#mean girls musical coming up at my school. i almost had a fucking panic attack when i auditioned

[borealhauntings]

im going to krill myself. Right now /j

[lokisivy]

This Is why we can't have nice things - Eddie Munson

part 5

NOTE I am adding a new character his name is Alex and he is on the basketball team i imagine him as Conrad Fisher

It's been 3 weeks since I got kicked out of Hellfire, Cheerleading was going good I had the attention I wanted. Eddie had to deal with the Basketball team giving him shit in class and at lunchtime he got into 5 fights this week alone Im surprised he hasn't been suspended yet.

Jason was throwing a party today after his basketball game I was obviously invited knowing Eddie this will be a good opportunity to sell drugs. He will be there.

I was in the locker room changing from my cheer uniform to the dress I got for the party today it was a satin dress that hugged every curve in my body.

"Are you gonna wear that for the party?" Robin asked I was nervous it showed a lot more skin than I would have liked.

"Yes, is it bad should I go home and change it?" I said panic attacking my expression

"girl if I was straight I'd be gay for you in that dress." she joked knowing I knew she was gay.

"Really thank god," I sigh in relief. "Eddie will go crazy for it" she smirked "ROBIN" I smack her shoulder playfully "What don't tell me you are not wearing it for Alex," she said in defence.

yes, I wore it to make his blood boil I mean he is a man after all. It wasn't the fact that Eddie kicked me out of hell fire that enraged me is how he acted after we fucked this is why we can have nice things.

"How are things with Vickie," I asked trying to change the subject.

"I think she likes me Im not sure it's just the looks she gives me is so weird I don't want to fuck up what we have over me kissing her or telling her how I feel I'm trying my best to keep my chill." Robin yaps

"Relax take a breath just look out for hints and ask questions that might lead you somewhere. "

"I saw you with Alex the other day after chemistry." She said closing her locker she wore baggy jeans with a cute top.

"I was helping him with some homework" I giggled following her out to the school parking lot "was that homework included kissing him?"

"I didn't kiss him he kissed me" I clarified Alex was sweet and kind he wasn't like the other guys on the team he is cute but I don't know he might just pity me. The rumours started after hellfire that I was a victim of Eddie's cult or that I was groomed but Eddie was Almost 4 years older than me so our age gap wasn't a big one I turn 18 next week.

"So take your chance he is hot you are hot and clearly isn't as complicated as Eddie." She said opening the passenger side of my car.

"if he asks me out I won't say no. " I turned on the engine.

"Good!" she exclaimed.

...

The party was big everyone in school was there i lost Robin 10 minutes into the party. It wasn't long till Alex found me and got me a drink.

"Can we go somewhere quiet?" he yelled through the music I nodded in response he took me to the backyard of the house it was much quieter there.

"I want to ask you something," he said to me his eye focused on mine it was enchanting. the realisation hit me he was gonna ask me to be his girlfriend I saw that coming from a mile away we had been spending so much time after class for the past 3 weeks he was handsome and kind but I didn't want to shut him down I think might develop feelings for him the only thing was stopping me was me being hung up on Eddie speaking of which my glanced at him in the corner of my eyes he was making out with a blond girl I couldn't place who she was but he was looking at me and Alex focused on us more than the girl with him.

"Sure ask away" I chuckled nervously my heart was beating faster by the minute. "I really Like you Y/N" he stated "I like you too Alex" I sheepishly answered he was nervous. " I want to ask you if you want to be my girlfriend" his voice deepened. Eddie was still looking at us raining on my parade

"I would love to be your girlfriend." I smiled he kissed me Alex kissed me it was soft and gentle like he was afraid to break me.

his hand slid on my cheeks deepening the kiss it was passionate not hungry and urgent, it was nice.

we went back to the rest of the party Alex yelled something through music to his friends I gathered that he was telling them that he asked me out and I said yes The next thing I knew I was crowd surfing.

god, this isn't how I pictured it going.

"Toast, toast, toast!" they cheered at me one of them giving me a drink and Alex carrying me on his shoulders

"Here is a toast to my real friends they don't care about the He said She said!" the crowd roared "And here is to my baby he doesn't care about what they are calling me lately." I scanned the room my eyes falling on Eddie the crowd going silent knowing where eyes looked "And here is to you because forgiveness is a nice thing to do" the crowd started murmuring Alex looked up at me confused until I started laughing so hard I if it wasn't for Alex holding me tight I would fell "I can't even say it with a straight face" they all started laughing cheering and drinking all the drinks in their hands. Alex dropped me down on my legs giving me a kiss

I took a glimpse at Eddie where I could swear I saw steam coming out of his ears. This is why we can't have nice things

[vivaamor]

steve notices your social anxiety

warnings: anxiety, swearing

relationships: steve harrington/ female reader

summary: steve helps you deal with your social anxiety

the chatter of young adults, the loud music erupting from the speakers, the splashing of drinks. those were the three noises that paraded your ears that night. your boyfriend steve had begged you to come along, knowing very well you had no intent on going to chrissy cunningham's twenty-second birthday party. you knew chrissy, liked her enough, but you hadn't been feeling it.

your new anxiety prescription hadn't been taking to an effect. you expected it since you were still trying to find the right prescription for you. you only began hiking on this journey of pharmacy for about three months, since your anxiety had grown tenfold and nancy's relentless nagging finally got you to see a doctor about it.

you went to parties in high school. you had fun back then. but the past year had been one full of crippling anxiety and panic attacks, and you hadn't been up for going anywhere packed full of people recently.

"come on, babe, we didn't go to eddie's birthday party, so i promised the gang we'd make it to chrissy's!" he frowned, puling at your hand, a pout on display. "you never go with me... pretty please?"

steve had always been the sweetest when it came to staying home. you always had some excuse like i'm not really feeling it tonight, or i have things to do. he always understood, but you knew it disappointed him to go to hangouts by himself, without his favorite girl. so you agreed. you got all dressed up-- hair, makeup, dress, and all. you felt good, you liked looking in the mirror when you looked like this. and you decided-- tonight is going to be a good night.

that didn't last long.

once you were surrounded in a crowd of people, you could feel that familiar feeling in your stomach and your chest, your brain running on overdrive. it was like a ticking time bomb located in your chest.

you hadn't been out in a while and everyone missed as they tried to all have the chance to catch up with you. you appreciated it but it was too much for you to handle. your hands grew clammy as you sipped from the beer robin grabbed you, knowing you needed it.

"y/n!" chrissy grabbed your arm and you jumped, turning to face the birthday girl. "you made it!" she smiled, pulling you in for a hug. she pulled away, eyeing your drink of choice. "let's get you a real drink, come on."

you shook your head quickly, "no, no, i'm fine, really." you assured her by taking another drink from the bottle.

"come on, it's my birthday! turn off your brain and let's get fucked up." you knew she didn't mean to guilt you, she only missed you and wanted to party.

you wave your hand in front of her, "i don't know, i-"

"y/n! hey bud." eddie exclaimed, waving to you from across the room as he crept through the crowd of young adults. "what do you say to-" the rest of his sentence isn't registered by you, the sound of heart thumping a hundred miles an hour being your main focus.

steve was watching you from across the house as he spoke to jonathan, a red solo cup in hand. he watched your faux smile, how your hands shakily fidgeted with the material of your dress, and how you continued to take deep breaths, you smile slowly fading until it was almost absent. "hold that thought." he apologized to jonathan, putting his cup down on the coffee table and hurriedly making his way to you. he wraps his arms around your waist, whispering, "hey, sweetheart," into your ear when you tense. your clammy hand rests over his arm, trying to relax into him.

"harrington!" eddie yells, noticing your boyfriend stood behind you. "i was just telling y/n that you guys should come by wheeler's house tomorrow night, promised dustin i'd hang with 'em."

steve chuckles and nods, he knew that if the two of you showed up, you'd immediately be invited to other social gatherings. he rubbed along your waist, replying, "i'll have to let you know, munson. but for now, mind if i steal my girl from you crows?" eddie laughs, shooing you away.

steve grasps your hand in his and you can't help but feel extremely guilty. he could read you so well and you hated it. he knew when you were excited, angry, sad, delighted, and most unfortunately, anxious. he leads you outside, where it's quieter except for the light tune of the music traveling outside of the cunningham house. "steve-" you whined, following him into the yard.

he sits on the lawn, legs spread, pulling you along with him until your situated between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. he holds both your hands in his, squeezing them lightly, his chin leaned on your shoulder. "breathe, baby." he takes a deep breath, urging you to follow him suit.

you inhale deeply and hold it for a few seconds, before exhaling, the heavy weight on your slowly becoming lighter. "five things you can see, name them."

you look around, "your hands," he squeezes them again. you tilt your chin up, "the sky," you look to your right, "jason passed out," he chuckles, his chest vibrating against your back. "chrissy's house," he nods, pressing a kiss to your temple. "and that bird." you nudge to the bird that's inhabiting a nearby tree.

"good girl, good job." he praises, pressing another kiss behind your ear. "do you feel any better?" he asks, moving his arms back around your waist so you feel secure.

you nod your head, leaning back into him, letting him support your weight. "i'm sorry."

"what for?" he knits his eyebrows together, thinking to himself, what would this girl do that she would ever have to apologize for?

you shrug your shoulders, turning your body so your legs rest over his and you're able to turn your head to look at him. "i ruined your night."

"oh, sweetheart," he cups your cheeks, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, grinning when you finally smile. "tell me, what am i doing right now?"

"dealing with your psychotic girlfriend."

he shakes his head, "holding my beautiful girlfriend. couldn't get any better that this." he tells your, brushing a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "i do have one request, though." you look up at him. "tell me when it gets bad. don't put yourself through something even when you're miserable. talk to me."

you take another deep breath, "okay, promise." you hold your pinky out and he can't help the shit eating grin on his face as he loops his pinky with yours.

"you want to go home?" he asks, smoothing his hands down your shoulders. "okay, let's go home, yeah?" he stands, helping you up.

you stand to your feet, smoothing out your dress with your hands. "thank you."

"don't thank me. it's what you do when you're in love with someone. i don't care what we do, i just want to be with you."

you pout your bottom lip out, looking up at him while you stand between his legs. "you're in love with me?"

"sweetheart, i tell you i love you all the time."

"yeah, i know, but that doesn't mean you're in love with me. it just means you love me. there's a difference, stevie."

he dips his head, his face a mere few inches from yours. "well, whatever the difference, i know i'm in love with you. is that okay?"

"i'm in love with you, too." you lean on your toes, pressing a soft and gentle kiss to his lips. he smiles against you, rubbing your lower back with his hand.

he pulls away before pecking your lips one more time. "now let's go home." he takes your hand, leading you to his car he parked on the side of the street. your heart eyes never leave from watching your intertwined hands, thinking to yourself...

he's the one.

[chanluster]

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

back to masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea. 

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS: 

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”

A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”

Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”

He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”

This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?” 

“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”

“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.” 

Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.

Were you really just friends? 

You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again. 

But...to be more?

Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.

“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.” 

Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms. 

You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual. 

But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.

Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.

“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?” 

He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”

“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”

“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”

You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.

Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.

“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you. 

Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”

Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”

That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand. 

You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”

Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?” 

“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”

“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”

“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”

“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”

“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”

You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”

Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.” 

His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare. 

“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”

A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.

Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!” 

The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!

“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”

“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!

“I like you!”

“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!” 

The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you. 

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him. 

Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin. 

Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?” 

God, you were such a bitch.

Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.

Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.

His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear. 

Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor. 

In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face. 

“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed. 

The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!” 

You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal. 

Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”

Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud. 

You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day. 

“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”

Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his. 

When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.

You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing. 

Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.

“Cum for me, baby.”

That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability. 

However, even with all of that, you still wanted more. 

And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire. 

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut. 

Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago. 

Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy. 

Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem. 

“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.

You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.

You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”

It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets. 

That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it. 

“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”

He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this. 

Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers. 

“Please, Chan. Please.”

Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight. 

The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world. 

“Donghyuck!”

The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you. 

“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely. 

You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.

As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.

But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer. 

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.

You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.

“Cum for me, ____.”

The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets. 

A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.

For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again? 

Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness. 

“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers. 

You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”

Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration. 

“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.

Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.

“Chan!”

You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.

The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”

“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”

“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”

You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.

“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”

Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah?”

When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.

“Chan?”

“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”

You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”

“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”

“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.

Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.

He parted his mouth. 

“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You blinked. 

Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”

For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”

You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!” 

Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”

You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.

And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.

So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.

“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”

Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips. 

When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.

“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”

[k3lynn]

mine — katsuki bakugou

yandere! katsuki bakugou x reader

cw: yandere au, 3rd year bakugou, violence, reader got female genitalia, anger, off-“screen” murder, mention of (minor) character death, blood, lucidness, possessiveness, degradation, manipulation, stalking, threats, masturbation, implication of sex, swearing, assault, narcissism, horror, slightly delusional katsuki, panic attack, non con, mention of suicide

- I do not condone any of the behavior here, nor do I try to romanticize it. (definition: make it seem like a good thing) any future/current dark fics are purely for entertainment purposes. Also, I don’t think bakugou would EVER do this- I’m just using some dark traits he used to have and twisting them to fit this situation. Not completely proof read and edited, I am exhausted right now I’m sorry. I say some mean things about some characters but I don’t mean it 💗

words: 1.8k

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME.

Poor little Y/N. You’ve caught the Big Bad Wolf’s attention. Ready to snatch you up and drag you into the deepest parts of the forest where no one will ever find you.

You’ll be all mine, and I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever have to see again.

You’ve been in the same class for 3 years now- and all he had to show for it is an occasional wave, and a shy little “Hi Bakugou” every morning that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Enough for most, but not for him.

In turn, he would tsk. Facing away and setting his head down on the desk- attempting to hide the roaring blush adorning his cheeks and the subtle shuffling in his pants- the way your voice alone could make his balls tighten in need.

Still- you give him merely a glance. He is always around you, but your attention is given to someone else.

Any extra would overlook his grumbling for typical-Katsuki doing his own thing. In reality, he’s holding himself back from snapping and taking you by force.

He wants you to come to him.

You have no reason not to. He’s perfect. Probably the best student to ever enter U.A. High, and on path to become the best pro hero to ever graduate from it.

Coming first in both the Entrance Exams AND the sports festival- a victory he still denies, holding some of the highest grades in class- 3rd only to some geek girl he could easily out-rank in combat and that shitty half n’ half. Even perceptiveness, intellect, and determination that can rival dumb Deku.

He even possesses great skills in cooking and music- Katsuki is a natural-born genius. Anybody who isn’t conscious towards his incredible talents might as well be living under a rock-

Unbeknownst to you, he’s giving you the generous chance to decide when you’ll be his. But his patience wears thinner every day.

It would have only taken a second to turn around in your seat and notice his piercing red eyes glaring at the back of your head.

So why don’t you notice me.

-

He doesn’t understand why it’s you he obsesses about. He can’t even remember when this whole mess started.

He tried denying his feelings. But quickly- they built up and festered inside him, begging to come out. Love, possessiveness, same thing.

Whether it be watching your twist and turn in the obstacle course- then running to the nearest bathroom to furiously grip his cock.

Snatching your chapstick when you’re not looking and rubbing it all around his own lips- imagining that’s what your lips would taste like if you just kissed him-

Restraining you during combat training by wrapping his arms around you- squeezing your breast a little more than necessary. Pinning you to the floor until you admit defeat.

Or even sneaking into your dorm while you’re in the shower to grab a new pair of panties from your dirty laundry, adding it to the stash he keeps hidden under his bed.

Stalking you. Keeping you close at all times without you even knowing it.

Indeed, he knows he’s a sick and twisted human being.

But by now he hardly cares- he’s worked too hard to ever even imagine of changing his perfect target. Nobody is more deserving of you than him.

So if he has to confront, threaten, and beat every single person in this stupid school to monopolize you for himself- he gladly will. Anyone who goes againts that is challenging him.

He scoffs anytime a boy approaches you- it’s well known around school that anyone who attempts to buddy up with you mysteriously ends up in a hospital room with no recollection of what happened. People even started seeing you as a sign of bad luck.

He’s nice enough to allow you some friends though. But only ones who will guarantee you’ll be around him as much as possible.

So you sit with him, Kirishima, racoon eyes, dunce face, and tape boy in lunch. No one else. Right in front of him.

You’re chatting away with Mina, but unusually, something special came up in conversation.

He always stays focused on his lunch- switching between listening in and day dreaming about bending you over the lunch table and grinding on your ass-

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened- what did Mina just say?

There’s a boy in the management department, a quirkless 2nd year nobody smart enough to somehow get into U.A.

And he asked you out on a date after school.

Shit.

No.

No no no no-

No- this isn’t how it’s supposed to-

My throat burns.

When did he- when did you-

You’re going to say no, right?

I cant breathe.

You don’t like anyone- I know this

I know everything about you- I-

My chest hurts-

You’re mine.

And if he thinks I’ll share then I’ll-

“Mina stop being so loud please...” your delicate little voice whispered.

The rest of the table already took notice of what was going on- bombarding you with questions that made you flustered.

“Woah woah- Y/n, what’s your answer?” dunce face peeps out, Bakugou swore he could smack that grin off his face right then and there.

Katsuki turns to look at you again- a chill traveling down his spine once he made eye contact, but your stare quickly fell to the floor.

“I’m not sure yet- probably not.. ha.” You shrugged- a light pink dusting over your cheeks. The others, satisfied, dismiss the topic.

Had it have been anybody else observing, they wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Katsuki knows you like the back of his hand. Successfully deceiving him would be harder than taking down All For One.

You’re lying... aren’t you? In front of him too- All because of this quirkless fucking loser-

Katsuki hates lies.

.

.

.

I’m going to kill him.

-

The walk back to your dorm was disappointing to say the least. But you can’t expect someone to be in the best of moods when they’ve been stood up.

You almost couldn’t believe it either- he had seemed so kind and genuine that you stood there for an extra 2 hours. But that’s your luck with boys-

‘I hope you got a good laugh out of it, jerk.’ You huffed before inserting the key into your rooms lock.

Turning on the lights, you allow your eyes to adjust for a moment before stepping inside and walking to your desk.

“You were waiting for that jackass for so long I almost started thinking you would never come back...”

You let out a startled cry before dropping your keys and whirling around in a flash- recognizing Katsuki’s back as he slowly closes the door.

“Bakugou? Why are you-“

“was he really that special.”

“What do you mean was....“ It’s then you noticed the blood dripping down his arms and hands- your door decorated with the same shade of crimson.

“oh my god.. Bakugou,”

That’s why the poor boy never showed up.

You knew about Katsuki’s “little” crush on you for a while now. His stares weren’t exactly the most subtle after all-

You found his uncertainty adorable, heck, a part of you was waiting for him to confess. But you would have never imagined his infatuation went this far.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll never love you as much as I do.”

He lifts his head, and your eyes meet his. Bloodshot- as if he’d been crying, but the evident smirk on his face showed nothing but pure malice.

“Not that he’ll ever get the chance to anyways”

He’s too fast, too close to the door, he has all the advantage in this situation. But you have to try. You have to leave this room at this very moment or you may never make it out alive. There’s no reasoning with him.

You clutch your heart. He steps forward, and you instinctively bolt to the door.

A few easy moves and he has you pinned by the neck on the ground, legs bent and used to hold your arms from jerking too much. His free hand is outstretched, creating small explosions that made you automatically stiffen your movement.

“Bakugou please- I won’t ever tell anyone, we can forget about this and I’ll pretend it neve-“

“I don’t need you to be quiet. I’m the boy who rejected a direct offer from the League of Villains, one of the best students in U.A. high- even if you do rat me out, they’ll never believe you...”

His grip on your neck tightened- nails cutting through skin and little droplets of blood start showing up. His hand starts heating up and a panic courses through your veins.

“I’ll kill you before they even begin to suspect me.”

Choked sobs escape your lips from the pain and fear surging through your body- “I- I thought you said you lo-loved me.”

“I do... that’s why you’ll be mine forever.”

He leaned down, low enough for you to feel his warm breath- then used his tongue to sadistically lick off the tears running down your cheek, a salty but satisfying flavor entering his mouth.

“In this life, and the next. It’s up to you when we see the later.”

You nod, hoping he relaxes the pressure on your neck. His face softens, something you swore you would never see in Bakugou. He releases his hold.

“You made me mess up your neck, next time don’t be so mean.”

He tilted your chin up, observing the scratches and bruises littered all around it. As soon as he determines there’s no serious injury, he picks you up to lay you on your bed. Climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Couples cuddle like this all the time don’t they.”

You gave him silence, although he didn’t mind. With one glare he had you shuffling to move closer to his chest.

“they also kiss.”

You know that right now, there’s no point in fighting. So you give in to what he wants in hopes that one day, you’ll break free from the hold he secretly had on you for so long. You’ll play along. You’ll survive.

You shudder as his hands reach to cradle your cheek, wiping the blood of the boy all over it. He loved it. It proved he won. He gave a light kiss to your lips before attacking your neck, set on putting a new type of bruise on you.

“You should start calling me Katsuki.”

“Ka- Katsuki.” You barely managed to whimper out.

He caresses your hair, cooing soft whispers into your ear in an attempt to calm your sniffling. An action you would have seen as sweet if it weren’t for the constant threat of death over your shoulder.

Your breath hitches in horror as you feel his warm hands trail down your body, gripping your smooth inner thigh before delicately starting to drag his fingers up.

“You know...

You silently beg for him to stop.

“There’s one more thing couples do.”

-if anyone is interested- should I make a part 2? (Future edit, I’m not satisfied with this, I might end up rewriting in the future)

© 2021 k3lynn, do not modify or repost without permission

[bangchanstudio]

Never Have I Ever | Changbin (3/?)

pairing: seo changbin x reader (fem)

genre: university au, awkward friends to ? something more? smut, house party

tw: sex, attempted date rape (spiked drink), mild panic attack, unprotected sex, penetration, cursing, praising, mild dom!changbin kink, oral sex (fem;receiving), fighting?

word count: 6.8k

ch.one | ch.two

synopsis: you’re forced to face Changbin after ghosting him for weeks, and things happen.

note: I suffered A LOT writing this so please SUFFER WITH ME. Shout out to sera aka @seraplantery​ for thirsting over changbin with me and his new fresh undercut as i wrote this 🥺 you the real one✨ again, i would love it if you let me know what you thought about this etc. i would love to interact more with those you read my fics!! 🥰 feel free to drop ideas or suggestions/requests in my inbox~ ps. if you would like to be added to the tag list for ✨NHIE✨ please let me know via inbox/message ❤️

taglist: @seraplantery​ @chang-binnie @synnocence @lordseochangbin​

“Spill it, sister.” The way Hyunjin crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently reminded you of your mother when you were in high school, waiting for a confession after sneaking out to a party the night before with the guys.

Suddenly, the ramen hanging out of your mouth that linked to your chopsticks seemed one hundred times more interesting than looking at Jinnie. He was good at seeing through your lies but mostly because you were such a bad liar.

When your only response was a shrug, he let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve been acting sus for days now.”

“How?” You asked, still avoiding his gaze, sipping on your straw.

“Well, for starters, you’ve stopped pestering us about what happened at the party.” He eyed you up and down. “Did you remember?”

“Just that we watched a hot ass morning sex video.” You said wiggling your eyebrows. “Really, there’s nothing going on.”

That was a lie.

The only thing that was running through your mind most of the time these days was Changbin. Since that night you went to see him you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch. His skin. His lips. The way he tasted. Changbin got your number from Chan, but you were avoiding him. He wasn’t one to chase or push either, so when you didn’t reply to his first message he didn’t send another.

Chan already interrogated you about the night he walked in on you blowing Changbin, and asked why you haven’t talked to him. You could only assume Changbin told Chan you were ghosting him, and Chan knowing you like the back of his hand decided to mediate. You were grateful, because he never judged you for being an asshole or ghosting people. You were always like this and you had been told by many people that you were “too much”, but not Chan. That’s what made you love him and run to him. Even when you didn’t run to him because you were too self-conscious and didn’t want to annoy him, he’d go to you. Talking with Chan helped you realize you didn’t know anything at all and that it would all be okay regardless.

“You know what your problem is, (Y/N)?” Chan started two weeks after you went to see Changbin at his apartment.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You were laying upside down on your couch, feet hanging over the backrest next to Chan who was sitting upright typing away on his laptop.

“You avoid thinking about your feelings. Instead of trying to face them head on and figure them out, you just run away.”

Ouch. The truth of his words stung.

“Just slap me next time will ya?” He rolled his eyes at your remark.

“I’m serious.” He closed his laptop placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention taking your hand in his as if you were a child. “Look, you know I love you. I care about you and I want to see you happy. That’s why we need to figure this out together. Tell me, when you look at Changbin, what do you feel?”

That was a tough question to answer. “Do I really have to think about that?” You whined.

“Yes.” He said sternly in his dad voice. “We’re going to figure this out together because if not you’re just going to continue this vicious cycle forever and I won’t stand by it.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes trying to find something, anything that you could put into words.

The image of seeing Changbin for the first in over a year at Seungmin’s house party at the start of summer came rushing back. You were sitting at the bar table in the wide living room of Seungmin’s mansion in a champagne slip dress and red lips talking your half tipsy ass off with your girl friend when she gasped at a hot guy who walked in. The place was overflowing with bodies, the heat made your skin slightly damp and the music was loud. There was a mixture of cigarette smoke and the smell of booze flowing in the air, basically it smelled like a good time.

“Who’s that hottie coming in with Felix?” She had asked shouting over the DJ and pointing at the door with her free hand, drink in the other.

Your heart had stopped and the smile you had plastered on your face slowly faded as you saw Changbin walk in, leather jacket, hood up, hat covering his features, but you knew it was him. He was scanning the crowed, high-fiving and bro hugging Seungmin and Minho as they found him. Minho had turned to find you amongst the crowd and nodded your way, Changbin found you but turned away. He never went up to you that night and you didn’t either.

“I feel sad.” You admitted, voice only slightly above a whisper.

“That’s good, (Y/N). That’s a good place to start.”

[three days later]

“Another party?”

Everyone was gathered around in your apartment eating your food and playing video games.

“Yeah, my parents are going overseas again so it’s the perfect time. I think we all could use a good old fashion house party.” Seungmin, respectable Virgo though he may be, was notorious for his house parties. He always had the best DJ’s, the best drinks and most importantly a big house.

“God knows we need to let loose, especially (Y/N).” Felix smirked over at you wiggling his eyebrows, blocking the pillow you threw at him.

“Besides, it’ll be funner this time since Changbin is back and we’ve been hanging out.” The room went quiet at Jeongin’s comment, just the video game sounding in the background “Oh… was I not suppose to say that?”

“Just focus on your game the grown ups are talking.” Hyunjin hushed the younger boy. “Everything is set to go we just need to go shopping.”

“We?” Everything sounded amazing except parties meant socializing, dressing up and being in public. You had a love hate relationship with parties, about as much as you had a love hate relationship with everything else in life.

[]

The weekend came faster than you could have hoped for and that mean the party did too. All you could think about was how you planned to avoid Changbin, though it shouldn’t be too hard in a house that big. You did it once before. The truth was, maybe you were scared to genuinely fall for him, just as he had said he was afraid of falling of falling for you. The only thing you knew how to do when you were unsure of anything was to run away.

Chan was right and you knew it. Your flight instinct was all you were good at but even you knew it would be your downfall eventually.

“Wear this. From your bestest friend in the whole wide world – Jinnie”

Hyunjin stopped by while you were in the shower and shouted a quick goodbye, reminding you to not be “late” to the party before rushing back out in less than a minute. You pulled your towel closer to your cold body before opening the top of the box and pulling out a really short, strappy, silk red slip dress.

“Does he want me to die of hypothermia?” you mumbled to yourself before doing your hair and make up. All the while constantly checking your phone to keep tabs on Chan’s eta. The best you could do was curl your hair and do some basic face makeup since you loved striking more with red lips rather than heavy eyes. Since the party had a rave vibe you opted for a way heavier highlight than normal and sprinkled a bit of body glitter along your collarbones and shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m here !” Chan’s voice rang out as you heard him shuffling from the entrance to your room.

“Are you rea– damn girl, who are you?” He stopped dead in his tracks taking you in from head to toe.

“Fuck, this is too slutty right?” You turned from your long mirror to face Chan.The dress fit you well enough, but it was so short and low cut you thought your boobs would fall out at one wrong move, not that you had much to begin with, but this dress sure made it seem like you had a decent amount of cleavage. “Shit, I need to find something else to wear. I swear Hyunjin just wants to make me look like–”

“No! Don’t you dare, you look amazing, you are totally wearing that tonight. Just take a good coat so you don’t get sick.” Just like Chan to nag, you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment.

By the time you both made it to the party it was close to 10pm, definitely late. The taxi left you at the gate at the bottom of a small hill. Making your way up you were grateful you opted for a pair of black boots instead of heels. There were a lot of people making their way up to the house and people spilling out of the house as you got closer. The bass could be heard since you stepped out of the taxi and the closer you got the sounds of chatter, heavy laughter and shouting got louder. Crowds made you nervous but holding on to Chan’s arm made you feel better. After a few drinks you wouldn’t be as nervous or anxious. Alcohol had a way of numbing just about anything.

Stepping into the house the heat of bodies welcomed you, almost immediately encouraging you to take off your coat before handing it to Chan who in turn put it, along with his in the hallway closet. You were familiar enough with Seungmin’s house to be able to use certain areas of his place that would otherwise be deemed unappropriated for others.

“Welcome, welcome friends.” Seungmin said greeting you and Chan with a hug. Hyunjin and Felix followed close behind.

“Wow, (Y/N) that dress looks so much better than I imagined!” Hyunjin didn’t trust your sense of taste when it came to party or club attire so he had the habit of picking things up for you ever since you all started partying and clubbing together junior and senior year of high school.

Felix handed you a drink with a sympathetic look, maybe your nervous were louder on your face than you realized. You looked around the crowd trying to see if you could spot Changbin’s figure but by the looks of it he wasn’t here. Even though you were avoiding him, your heart still sank a little.

Get it together, you scolded yourself.

Before you knew it you found yourself on the dance floor passing between Hyunjin, Felix and a couple of strangers. Drinks and shots started to blur as your nervous melted and you started to feel slightly dizzy at the heat and bass filling your chest. The black lights made everything neon and colorful, there were even bubble machines that left residue of shimmer on everyone’s hair, face and body as they burst.

“Whoa– whoa!” Hyunjin shouted as you grinded your ass on a guy, making you laugh and push the stranger away before turning back to Hyunjin, throwing your arms around his neck and his hanging lazily on your hips. Felix had gone off somewhere, probably the bathroom. “Do you think Changbin will show up?”

You shrugged, not wanting to ruin the fun you were having. “Who knows.”

Eventually, you found yourself alone on the dance floor still as Hyunjin went to look for Felix, probably to do other things with him.

The vibrations of the song were filling you when you felt a pair of hands grab your waist letting you know someone was there, but you couldn’t see who since they were behind you. You let your body lean back into the stranger swaying to the song coming out of the loud speakers. He felt strong and warm though he reeked of weed which immediately turned you off, but you didn’t leave him enjoying his body instead.

“Let’s grab a drink.” The stranger said, grabbing your wrist and leading you off the dance floor, weaving you through the crowd. He wasn’t half bad looking, though, the thought came to you like second nature... but he wasn’t Changbin.

You leaned against the bar, letting the coolness of the marble run up the length of your arms, without thinking you placed your forehead down the bar top to cool off a bit. It felt good against your hot skin and the heat of the room.

“Here you go.” The stranger said handing you the drink with a cocky smile.

You thanked him raising the drink to your lips. He had a dark glint in his eyes that made you hesitate. “Fuck!” You shouted as someone grabbed the wrist you were holding your drink with, jerking it away.

“What the fuck did you put in this?” It was Changbin. You froze as he grabbed the glass out of your hand, still holding onto you. He shoved the glass in the guys face, “Drink it.”

“No way, I got that for her.” He said disgust in his voice, knocking the glass out of Changbin’s hand. It shattered on the floor, but you hardly heard a thing over the loud music that was playing. “What? Is she your bitch?”

“She’s not a bitch and what she is to me is none of your fucking business.” Changbin got between you and the guy, shoving his chest.

Fuck, this was not good. You desperately looked around for Chan or Jisung, anyone that could stop Changbin better than you could. You’d seen him in enough fights to know this wouldn’t end well. Of all the good qualities Changbin had, holding back was not one of them.

“What the fuck man, I was just trying to have a little fun.” The guy shoved Changbin back, though it didn’t have much effect since Changbin had a pretty solid build.

“’A little fun’ by what? By spiking a girls drink? You must be one desperate piece of shit if you can’t get a single girl to sleep with you of their own free will.” Changbin’s words made you go cold.

Did he spike your drink when you weren’t looking?

“No, it’s just funner when their helpless.” The guy retorted.

You could feel the rage boil up in Changbin and spill over seconds before he threw his fist connecting it with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling into a crowd. The guy couldn’t recover before Changbin grabbed him by the collar throwing him on the ground and shoving a knee into his chest hitting him again and again.

“You low life piece of shit, I hope you rot in hell.” He said between every punch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck where the hell was everyone when you needed them?! You desperately wanted Changbin to stop fighting. The fact that they had garnered a crowd of on lookers but no one was stepping in annoyed you.

“Changbin, stop!” You pleaded but when he didn’t respond you grabbed his arm just as he was bracing to throw it again, “Please, stop!”

Changbin tensed as he turned to face you, his eyes were scary.. on fire with rage. Your eyes must have been desperate because you could feel his anger slowly start to dissipate. For a moment it was as if everything went quiet and all you could hear was your breathing and heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The stranger seized the moment and opening to escape from under Changbin’s hold and book it into the crowd shoving a few people out of the way.

“Fuck.” Changbin mumbled watching the guy run off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He helped you to your feet before taking you by the hand and leading you around the bar and up the grand stairwell. His pace was a little faster than what you normally walked and with the alcohol running rampant in your veins you stumbled and struggled to keep up with him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was gripping your hand so tight you knew even if you tripped enough to fall, he would catch you.

The hallway lead off to various rooms and people were piling around room entrances and playing various games from drinking games to board games. The bass still sounded throughout the house, but you could hear a little more clearly from up here.

“Get the fuck out,” Changbin pulled you into Seungmin’s room where two people were making out on his couch. “Now.” He ordered.

The couple glanced at each other but did as they were told, which was good on their part. Changbin was scary when he was mad. You were dreading whatever was about to happen because he pulled you away from the crowd probably to scold you for almost getting yourself drugged.

The couple left closing the door behind them leaving you in a dim lit room with Changbin angrily pacing back and forth.

“You are so reckless!” Changbin’s voice made you flinch. You know he didn’t mean to, but he still needed to learn how to control his anger. “Why would you take a drink from someone you don’t know?”

All you could do was wrap your arms around yourself and avoid Changbin’s eyes. You felt like you could melt under his gaze, or burn.

“There are bad guys out there, (Y/N), just waiting for you to let your guard down enough so they can take advantage of you.” He was saying it with good intentions but that still didn’t make you any less angry about it.

“So, what the hell am I suppose to do then? Just not go out? Not drink or have any fun?” Your argument was weak but you hated being pushed around. Especially by Seo Changbin.

“That’s not the point, (Y/N) and you know it.” He stopped pacing taking an abrupt step towards you, your back hit the wall. He took another step cornering you in.

From this close you could smell his cologne, warm and musky. His chest was rising higher than normal, his anger still evident in his eyes and the way he set his jaw. Damn he looks so hot... wait shut up this is not the right time, you tried shaking the thought away but Changbin hit the wall next to your head making you jump.

“Look at me.” His voice was strained.

“Make me.” You challenged, the words leaving your lips before you could filter them out as this is a really bad idea, don’t say that.

He grabbed your jaw fingers digging into your cheeks forcing you to meet his gaze. It annoyed you how much that turned you on, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to control your lust.

“Do you like it when I get rough with you, is that it?” Changbin squeezed a little tighter until you opened your eyes meeting his. Fuck, was all you could think.

“Maybe.” You replied raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I just want to see you go insane.” 

His dark laugh made you tremble.

“You know what drives me insane?” He sneered, “The fact that we had one decent, open conversation and then you ghost me like a fucking stranger you met off Tinder.”

To be fair, you knew it was coming. You shoved him off, crossing the room before slumping down on the couch, kicking your boots off and crossing one leg over the other so you wouldn’t flash him by accident.

He watched you from across the room as you noticeably gathered your thoughts before starting, “I.. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Changbin threw his head back in disbelief laughing before angrily asking if you were serious. You didn’t reply which seemed to only set him off even more. He crossed the large room in three strides before sitting down on the coffee table right in front of you leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face resting in his hands; but you didn’t flinch or shrink away this time.

“Then why did you do that to me?” His voice was lower now, his eyes were closed as if he was struggling just to say those words. As if he was trying to hid the hurt that was laced in that question.

“Because I wanted you to feel the same hurt that I felt when you abandoned me.” The words stumbled out of your mouth again before you could stop them.

You both froze.

It’s not something you consciously had thought out, but as soon as you said it you realized that was it. That was the real reason you were avoiding him, you wanted to get back at him. You wanted him to feel the same pain and loneliness you did when he left. Of what could have been but wasn’t.

“That’s fair.” Changbin concluded before straightening his back. “I don’t blame you.”

You sized him up trying to find any trace that he was lying, but he seemed a little more relaxed now. His shoulders were slack, his breathing was normal, eyes serious.

“Really?”

He nodded. “There is one thing though.” He said placing his hand on your knee before pushing it off your other leg. “I haven’t repaid you for that one time at the apartment.”

Your eyes widened as he pushed your legs apart. “Wh–what are you doing?”

He smirked at your sudden shyness. “I told you. Paying you back.”

“No, no it’s okay, I swear, just don’t mention it.” You clumsily shot up before stepping a safe distance away suddenly cursing yourself for being barefoot.

He laughed with his whole chest before standing up straight. “Come on, you were not this shy sucking me off.”

Your cheeks were burning, you were positive your face was the same color as your dress. Changbin made his way over to you, pushing your hair back behind your shoulder. The closeness of his body, the way his eyes made trails down your neck and collarbones made you tremble again, you tried crossing your arms to keep yourself still.

He noticed you shaking.

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s really okay if you don’t want to. I would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with.” His voice was soft, worried.

“It’s not that,” You trailed off averting your gaze. “It’s just I’ve never been... You know.”

“Never what?” He raised his eyebrow in that way that said, I don’t believe you,”I know you’re not a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Of course not, I mean the,” You flailed with your hand trying to get the point across without explicitly saying it, “I’ve never.. you know.”

Realization dawned on his features, “Oh... you’ve never been eaten out?”

“Fuck, yes, Changbin. That. God.” The fact that he said it out loud made you even more shy.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” He said before pinching your cheek and biting his lip.

“This room’s taken.” Changbin called as a couple walked in barely keeping each other on their feet. He shoved them out before closing and locking the door behind them.

“Changbin!” You squeaked as he rushed back over to you, picking you up off the ground and carrying you to the bed before tossing you easily on it. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Who let you wear this dress?” He asked pulling at it teasingly; undressing you with his eyes.

“Jinnie bought it for me.” You replied. He took off his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt were cut off revealing his biceps. “Been working out?” You asked not hiding your want anymore.

“Like what you see?” Changbin asked before pulling your legs towards him so your bum was at the end of the mattress.

You nodded, biting the tip of your finger as you gazed up at him. He ran his hands up your calves and thighs before tugging you a little closer to the edge.

“When did you get so buff?” You asked half teasing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know just looking out for my health.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes laughing.

There was silence as Changbin took you in again, staring down at you, his face unreadable as always. “Would it be okay if we forgot everything for a little while?”

His words made you catch your breath in your chest. Your fingertips grazed his hands on your thighs, slowly back and forth before nodding hesitantly, “That sounds fun” You breathed.

Changbin smiled before slipping his hands under your dress and slowly pulled down your lacy black panties. He got on his knees and spread your legs open, the motion made you squeeze your eyes shut squeaking in the process, covering your face with your hands.

“Ah, what? Don’t tell me you’re still shy.” Changbin laughed before placing small kisses on the inside of your thighs, switching between the two. There was a soft romantic song playing in the distance, so you tried to focus on it to calm your increasing heartbeat as Changbin kissed and sucked small spots on your sensitive skin.

His breath was warm as were his lips and his hands felt like they were burning on your thighs. It wasn’t long until you felt your body longing for more of him. He noticed the way your breathing started to come slightly quicker, the way your legs started to unconsciously shake with want and desire. He saw the way you bit your lip trying to keep yourself from making any sound, and the way you covered your eyes with your arm, hand clenched into a fist.

He smirked wanting to make you break.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed as you felt his tongue trace along your folds. You trembled at his warm touch. He liked the way you looked from this point of view and the way you tasted on his tongue.

His mouth found your clit and you let out a “Fuck,” as he drew circles with his tongue, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that you had never felt before. It was so much better than touching yourself. He went between licking you up and circling your clit occasionally sucking on it making you whimper.

“That feels so so good,” Your hands found their way into his hair pushing it out of his eyes, he looked sexy from here.

“I’m glad you like it,” He hummed still at your core, the vibrations of his voice against your clit making you shake.

You could feel the heat starting to rise, the way that familiar knot was forming in your core. 

But suddenly, you remembered the guy on the dance floor. The way he smelled of weed, the way he pushed his body against your back. The way he lead you off the dance floor and handed you the drink. The drink you almost drank, the one he drugged to... 

The sensation hit you like a truck after a few minutes and you could feel the pleasure start to change into something else, your breathing was coming out faster and heavier. The walls of the room started to close in and you felt like you might pass out. Your thighs were trembling and Changbin had to hold them open to keep you from trying to close them.

“Changbin I– I– fuck, I–,” you couldn’t form a coherent sentence and panic started to rise in your chest. There were black dots starting to dance across your vision, you felt claustrophobic, “Shit, it’s really heavy. Changbin, please,”

 “Please what?” He asked, noticing panic in your voice. But you couldn’t speak all you could do was clench his hair making him stop.

“I– I need to catch my breath.” Fuck why were you panicking now. You sat up clenching your chest trying to focus your breathing. Changbin was sitting back on his knees, he grabbed your face between his hands trying to get you to focus on him.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay just look at me. Focus on me.” His eyes and voice were calm but you felt a small part of you unraveling. Your chest hurt from how hard you were trying to breath, you tried closing your eyes but Changbin got your attention again, “No, (Y/N) look at me, keep focusing on me. I’m here. I’m real.”

Your eyes desperately searched his face trying to center yourself.

“The guy fro–from be–before, I– I’m having a p–anic attack,” You chocked out trying to at least tell him what was happening. It wasn’t the first time he saw you panic, but it had been a very long time.

“Okay, baby, don’t worry I’m right here. Just breathe. Can you tell me five things you can see? Come on, just five little things.” You could only see a small glint of desperation in his eyes.

“H–hair,” You chocked out looking at his dark hair, “Eyes,” His eyes that felt like home...

“That’s great, baby, really great. Three more. Just tell me three more little things you see.” Changbin encouraged, hands warm against your cheeks.

“Nose” that you loved to pinch when you would tease him in high school, “Cheeks,” they were flushed, “Lips,” they were soft and still wet from eating you out, your eyes stayed there.

“Great. Now four things you can touch.”

Your breathing was still heavy but you were a tiny bit calmer. You touched the bed for a few seconds, your dress, his hair and his hands on your face.

“Three things you can hear.” He continued calmly, voice like honey.

You concentrated, “rain, piano, your breathing.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“Beer and... your cologne.” Your eyes were closed but you were almost in complete control again.

“That’s amazing baby, now tell me one thing you can taste,”

“Dos XX.” You opened your eyes, he was smiling softly. “Damn it, Changbin I’m so sorry.”

You felt so guilty for freaking out like that. It was something that was out of your control but you still felt guilty and week for letting it overtake you like that. Especially now of all moments.

Changbin stayed on his knees looking up at you. You felt so embarrassed. Why did that have to happen now, you cursed yourself again. It had been months since your last panic attack but something about the way that guy tried to drug you made you lose your mind.

You pulled Changbin’s arm tugging him to join you on the bed. “Can you hug me for a bit, please?”

He chuckled before kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed. He pulled your body back with him as he sat up right against the headboard. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as you settled between his legs. He rested his chin on your shoulder half mumbling half singing the lyrics to I will follow you into the dark and swaying you gently. You closed your eyes relaxing against his chest, feeling the vibrations as he sang the sweet words into your ear. You felt at home in his arms, they were strong and safe. Like a fortress.

After a while of being like this you shifted in his embrace enough to where you could look up at him.

“What?” He asked half worried half smiling.

“Thank you for saving me. Or well, not saving me but you know... saving me. I didn’t realize the guy was a total scumbag. I should have been more careful.” You looked down fiddling with your fingers.

Changbin was quiet for a long time before responding. “If you let me be near you again, I promise I will always keep you safe.”

You met his gaze again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, yes, I like you. A lot, actually. But I understand if you don’t want to be with me in that way or at least not right now, but it would be really great if we could try being friends again.. like before.”

Like before.

That’s all you had ever wanted. Was to go back to how things had been before, but you weren’t sure if that was even possible anymore. So much at had changed, everything was different. You were different.

“Can we go back to forgetting everything... Just for a little while longer?” You asked placing your hand on his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. You felt tired from the panic attack, but you need to feel something. Something that would replace the fear.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Changbin asked, he was hesitating against your lips.

You nodded pulling him into a kiss, your hands getting lost in his hair. Everything seemed to rush, the way your teeth teased his lips and his yours. The way you shifted yourself to lay down on your back pulling Changbin on top of you as you did. The way his hands slipped under your dress feeling your cold skin, and yours tugging his shirt desperately. You pulled the shirt over his head tossing it to the side before he went back to your lips shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself on his tongue and you blushed.

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Changbin chocked at your comment before laughing, “Damn, you can be really bold sometimes. I like it.”

He wasted no time unbuckling his belt buck, he looked so sexy doing it biting his lip, he knew what he could do to you. Changbin discarded the rest of his clothes and pulled your dress off surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra.

“What?” You teased.

“Nothing, you’re just really hot.” His lips were hot on your chest, trailing down your stomach and back up again. His hands massaging your boobs before taking one in his mouth, he nibbling on your nipple the sensation making you whimper.

You pulled him by his hair back up to your lips, your legs wrapping around his bare waist pulling his naked body to yours.

“If you make me wait any longer I’m going to go crazy,” You whined pouting at Changbin making him laugh. “Oh, fuck,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t have a condom, I forgot my wallet at home...” At this point you were so turned on you just wanted to hit him, but you needed him so desperately. 

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill. Either way, I trust you.” You looked at him as you consented, before pulling his body closer to yours. The tip of his throbbing cock was teasing your entrance and you whined pushing your hips to get closer to him.

Changbin tsked, “You’re so impatient baby girl.”

“I need you, I don’t want to feel afraid anymore.” You didn’t care that the words sounded dumb or selfish, it was the truth.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me around.” He hummed into your neck brushing his head against your cheek, his hair was soft and smelled of mint. “I’ll keep you safe.” his words gave you chills.

“I know that, Changbin.” You didn’t, but you wanted to.

He slowly pushed his tip into your entrance making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Changbin said grabbing your jaw in the way that was starting to feel familiar. “I want you to know that it’s me, that it’s me and no one else.”

You picked up on what he was hinting at, because there were things he noticed that you didn’t. Like what may or may not trigger another panic attack. He was right, so you kept your eyes open, watching as his face scrunched up as he pushed himself into your pussy stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck that’s tight.” He groaned, voice raspy and deep. “Fuck.”

He waited for you to adjust before continuing to move slowly in and out. You were still slick from before, so even though he filled you up it felt so good. The way he kissed your neck, and left love marks made you whine and tell him how much you had always wanted to do this.

“How many times have you thought about fucking me?” He asked, sitting back on his knees and pulling your waist higher to fuck you at a better angle. These types of positions always made you a little self conscious since he had a full frontal view, but you felt safe under his gaze.

“Too many to count.” You admitted laughing before moaning as he picked up the pace in time to the song that was playing downstairs. The friction felt like heaven and you felt the butterflies in your stomach start to turn into little knots. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

“Since the day I met you,” Changbin confessed between moans. “Fuck (Y/N) you feel so fucking good.”

“Changbin,” You moaned his name, eyes rolling back shut. You arched your back slightly as he pounded into you, the increased pace was making you feel hotter. “Fuck, if I would have known you were this good I would have asked you to fuck me sooner.”

He laughed at your vulgar comment, “Where? Like at the hide out?” He slammed into you again making you curse, your walls starting to clench around his cock.

“Yeah, that would have been really fun.” You found his hand and squeezed it. “Shit, I’m getting really close.” “Don’t worry baby you can cum whenever you want.” His words made you go crazy, and he praised you telling you how well you were doing. He pulled your legs up over his shoulder and bottoming you out with each and every thrust.

“Changbin, don’t stop.” You moaned as the sound of his skin slapping yours echoed louder and louder, Changbin’s breathing was hitching and you knew he was about to cum too. “Fuck,” The knots in your stomach turned into heatwaves as you released onto Changbin, he slammed into you harder and faster the friction making you see stars.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Changbin moaned your name as he came in you, his hot white liquid filling you up and you loved the way it felt. “Shit.”

He fell on your chest letting your legs rest on either side of him, you both struggled to catch your breath but the sound was sweet in your ears. Changbin kept telling you how beautiful you looked in this mess and how amazing you felt. You ran your fingers through his wet hair, admiring his beautiful features as he rested on your chest.

“Hands down,” Changbin breathed, swallowing his spit to hydrate his dry throat, “My favorite.”

You waited for him to finish his thought but he didn’t.

“Your favorite what?” You probed, putting your arm on your forehead still coming down from your high.

“Oh, my favorite sex round.” He said still breathing heavy, laughing. The sound echoing in your chest.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing.” You agreed. Changbin pulled himself out of you slowly before settling next to you pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat return to normal, the sound bringing you peace.

His hand traced the curve of your waist, and he did that for long time.

Eventually you both fell asleep and sometime through the night, decided to just keep sleeping getting comfortable under the covers and Changbin’s skin pressed against yours.

It was the first night in a long time where you felt like you actually rested well. The morning light woke you and for a few seconds you started to panic, until you saw Changbin’s sleeping face next to yours. Then you remembered the night before, and the amazing things you felt. You calmed your heart and snuggled back into his chest.

“Mm?” he mused lightly.

“Shh, sorry for waking you.” You whispered wrapping your arms around him tightly. He chuckled and fell back asleep in seconds.

That was until Seungmin walked through the door and started yelling every curse word in the book, “What the fuck do you guys think you’re doing in my bed. Wait, fuck, what the hell did you guys do in my bed? Don’t tell me you fucking had sex in my bed that is so fucking gross. Ew! I hate you guys, we’re not friends anymore, get the hell out of my house and wash the damn sheets before you leave I’m telling Chan on you guys..” Seungmin stormed out of the room continuing his rant.

You and Changbin exchanged looks before bursting out laughing.

“I really hope this doesn’t turn into an everyday thing when we have sex.” Changbin said whipping a tear from his eye from laughing so hard. First Chan and now Seungmin.

You prayed to the gods the same thing.

[hetacon]

Prom Queen: Chapter 4

First || Previous || Next

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Word Count: 1,800

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, small food mention, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

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Summary: “Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

(Make sure to read all the way to the end if you want my thoughts so far! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, my art, or writing! Enjoy the chapter!)

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Virgil started to spend more time with the popular kids after they got back to school, something he never thought would be happening. They were gossipy and didn’t really appeal to Virgil as overall people but Roman was their friend so he started to get to know them for the sake of his best friend. He didn’t even really know them honestly, they almost never talked about themselves or their interests or anything in terms of personal information, the conversations almost consistently focused on the drama going around the school that day. There was something new every time they went over. For a solid month, he and Roman would go chat for a minute or two before going off to find Patton and Logan.

That was actually what they were just doing that day when one of Roman’s friends got Virgil’s attention.

“Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

Virgil looked over to Madison if he remembered correctly, trying to hide most of his shock at the fact that she even addressed him. Not many of Roman’s friends acknowledged him much when they would go over but Virgil guessed they’d taken some interest in him. He had been coming over with Roman for quite a good while now, it figures they’d notice his presence at some point. He had to respond quick though, this chance couldn’t go to waste. “Uh, ok, what do you want to know?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Well, an odd question to start off with.

Virgil shrugged a bit. “Eh, just what everyone else listens to, you know? Not really anything in particular. It’s not like I really look for songs to listen to by anyone specific.”

Roman nudged him with a snort. “Since when has this ever been the case? If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re emo through and through,” he said, a certain fondness to his look. Virgil bumped his shoulder with a laugh back, fixing him with a playful glare.

“And what if I can like things that you don’t expect of me, huh?” Virgil asked with a slight tease. Roman simply raised an eyebrow but shrugged, letting the argument go without much more of a struggle. Roman wasn’t wrong though, he still listened to everything that he had before, none of it had changed despite what he said. Definitely none of what people usually listened to. He was never one to follow trends with music or otherwise and Roman unfortunately knew that.

“Do you do anything interesting?” one of the people joining the conversation asked.

“Things here and there, not exactly much. School is a drag, takes up way too much of my time to actually let me focus on anything even remotely interesting,” Virgil said calmly, trying to look casual. He hoped it was working, he felt like a nervous wreck. With a few laughs and a “Fuck yeah it is!” he mustered up the courage to add in, “I draw if that counts for anything.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if we take a look?”

Virgil nodded and rummaged through his bag, finding a leather bound book. This one happened to be his more serious one, he had another that was far more personal stashed away. Only Roman, Patton, and Logan ever saw that one, and not even in its full entirety. The personal one had gotten a lot more use than the one currently in his hands. Virgil slid the book over the table and he watched as it was opened to a page of really messy scribbles in the shape of a distraught person’s face. He’d remembered drawing that one, he was in the middle of history sophomore year having a panic attack but was too nervous to ask to step outside.

“Woah, this is cool man,” Tyler said as he looked over it, others nodding in agreement. They proceeded to flip through the pages for a bit while they took turns asking him more questions.

With so much talk, Virgil noticed Roman jump up suddenly, tugging at Virgil’s sleeve frantically. “Pat and Specs!” he explained before packing up his things frantically. “So sorry guys, I need to talk to them before we have to go to class! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!” he shouted out as he started speed walking, Virgil in tow. Virgil barely managed to collect up his stuff before he was at Roman’s side, seeing the slightest crease between Roman’s eyebrows. As relieved as Virgil was to be away from all of the questions and potential judgement, he noticed Roman was in a big rush. He couldn’t really place why.

“Hey, you uh.. You ok? What’s up?” Virgil asked, relieved as Roman slowed down a little as they turned a corner.

“I just want to get to Pat and Specs, they’re our friends you know?” Roman asked with a bit of an edge before sighing. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to uh.. Hit it off so much with them, I usually just say a quick hello really,” he explained.

“Really? You think so?” Virgil really hoped he was impressing the popular kids, they were Roman’s friends after all. If he was having luck with them, he wasn’t going to lose Roman that easily. He couldn’t possibly do that, not when he’d already put so much at risk.

“Yeah but anyone who doesn’t like you how you are is insane,” Roman said lowly. Virgil thought he saw Roman’s jaw clench for a second but he quickly looked ahead of them as Roman glanced over.

Virgil was tackled in a hug by Patton, causing him to smile as he hugged back. He didn’t smile for long though as the bell rang, causing Roman to sigh. He looked over, laughing a little awkwardly. “Ha, sorry Ro, didn’t mean to make us so late.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s ok, just means we’ll have to get here as soon as possible tomorrow!” With that, he and Logan started to talk as they headed to class together.

Virgil watched as Roman walked away from him and Patton and he frowned slightly before Patton was nudging his shoulder and nodding his head to the direction of their classes.

Virgil nodded back and started walking, burying his hands deep into his pockets. He really wished he had his usual hoodie to pull over his head and hide from the world. His bangs would have to do, giving him a good look at the sickeningly sweet pink he’d decided on a month prior. Who let him do that again?

“Hey, you ok?” Patton asked, silently offering Virgil a cookie. Snickerdoodle today, Virgil would’ve usually loved it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil told him. “I’m not hungry, thanks though.”

Patton looked at him with a worried look for a second before sighing, taking a bite of the cookie himself. “Alright Virge, if you say so. Who knows, maybe some rest is all you need, make sure you go easy on yourself!”

Virgil agreed, looking ahead of them.

He went home that day and went through the motions in a haze, glad when he finally got out of his disgustingly bright outfit. He stared blankly at the wall when he got a text from Roman.

“Hey, sorry I was so tense where we left things off.. I promise you didn’t do anything, that was all me.”

“What was up with that?” Virgil texted back.

Roman’s response took a minute before it popped up on Virgil’s screen. “I don’t know, I just didn’t expect them to really take such an interest in you. They can be a bit... Stuffy. Like, all the time, I much prefer hanging out with you, Pat, and Specs.”

“I mean, they’re your friends right? They asked me questions, I answered.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Some of your answers surprised me though lol, you are truly a dark and stormy knight after all!”

“Hey, I’m allowed to expand my tastes, aren’t I? You got me into some of your dumb musicals after all.”

“They are not dumb, take that back you jerk!”

Virgil snorted, hugging his pillow to his chest as he typed out another message. “Oh yeah? Make me, you pompous thespian drama queen.”

“I just might!”

Before Virgil could respond, Roman shot him a quick text reading “Shit, GTG, I need to run a few scenes before I sleep! Until tomorrow~!”

“Go chase your dreams of ‘professional make believe’ as Logan would say, night.”

As an afterthought, Virgil tacked on a red heart before blushing harshly, cursing into his hands. He really did that, no taking that one back now was there?

Either way, check in time. Roman was still his friend, they just had a normal conversation like two human beings ought to be able to have. While he seemed a little off-put by some of the changes Virgil was talking about, he didn’t seem to take it as a serious offense so a plus there. The clothes were horrible, Virgil still hated his hair, but he was doing this for Roman so he’d suck it up. Roman’s friends were starting to like him, they liked his art so that was good. Luckily they latched on to something he couldn’t lie about.

Just as Virgil was about to go to bed, another notification popped up on his phone, this time from an unknown number. Virgil stared at it for moment, his brow furrowed. He opened it though and read it.

“Hey Virgil, this is Madison! Got ur number from Roman’s phone lol, hope u don’t mind sweetie!”

Well, he kind of did mind but putting that aside-

“Hi, did you need anything?”

“Not rn but I might! Just wanted to have ur number just in case. Anyways, I’m going to bed, see u tomorrow!”

Virgil nodded to himself before he got one more text.

“BTW loveeeee ur artwork, keep up the good work bby!”

This was certainly... Bizarre. He didn’t expect to ever have the number of a popular girl in his phone but he never knew high school would be this insane. He’d survive this though, for Roman if nothing else. And if not, he just might lose Roman forever and never be able to forget about it for as long as he lives! Ok, breathe Virgil, breathe...

Things would work out, Virgil was going to make sure they did or die trying. Nobody, Roman included, could think to stop him now.

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More Prom Queen content huh? Anyways hey hey hey guys! How’d you like the newest chapter?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to feel about this one. I feel like all of my writings sound like they’re in an echo chamber. Like as if the events are completely isolated and don’t fit into an expansive narrative and existence. I have no idea if that makes a bit of sense, it might just be my depression tbh? It’s been kicking my butt more than usual.

But Virgil is finally getting noticed by the popular kids, woohoo! This obviously can’t go wrong! We shall see what Virgil will be getting up to with time!

As always, feel free to leave comments or send me asks and whatnot if you want to talk with me about the story! I’d love to hear from you guys!

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Taglist: @artissijules, @virgils-paranoia, @its-the-cat-queen, @myyoutubecorner, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars, @falsemood, @katlikethesword

[itsyounggaga]

Gaga was interviewd by HX Magazine in 8th August, 2008. The magazine is based in NY.

Photoshoot by Pieter Henket.

“Just Dance” singer Lady Gaga gives back to the gays

By Brandon Voss Not quite sure what to make of electro-pop diva Lady Gaga’s theatrical fashion-forward fierceness? Follow the advice of her international hit single: “Just dance. It’ll be okay.” Still hot off a history-making performance on the Miss Universe Pageant in Vietnam and with her glittery debut album The Fame out in October, the 22-year-old NYC native discusses booze, bisexuality and even Britney before she makes all the boys gag at Daniel Nardicio’s birthday celebration on Friday, August 8, at The Ice Palace in Cherry Grove. HX: Did you always know that the gays were going to go gaga over your music? Lady Gaga: I have a lot of gay friends, so it was more like, I wonder if my friends will like it. I’m a dancer and grew up in a theater community in New York, so I feel like my music is a product of that environment. I find something really beautiful about the spirit of the gay community. I feel a part of it. I was the girl in high school who never really had a lot of popular friends, so I found my place with my gay friends in acting school and dance class. It’s a really inspiring community, and I feel very privileged to be around it. Who’s your best gay friend? I couldn’t say—I have too many! I would upset a lot of people. You surely earned even more gay fans with the recent announcement that you wrote a track for Britney’s upcoming album. Was that a dream come true? Yeah. I was working with Rodney Jerkins on Pussycat Dolls, and we wrote this song—I almost slipped and told you the name. Thank God I caught myself; I respect her a lot, so I was to give her control over that. When we were done with the song, I was like, “Oh, I want to sing it,” but my album was already closed. It never even crossed my mind that she was doing a new record. Then Rodney played it for [Britney’s manager] Larry Rudolph, who was in the studio. Rodney called me later and was like, “Britney’s people are freaking out about this song.” Ultimately, she makes the decisions, so when I found out that she loved it and was going to record it, it was amazing. I actually heard it yesterday with her on it for the first time, and I really had chills. Shouldn’t you start being more selfish with hits that you write? My record is really great, and it has a lot of hits on there that I can run with for a while. I’m not an egomaniac; I don’t need to sing every great song that I write. If anything, it’s more of an achievement for me as a writer to get to write for a superstar. You did a mini-promo tour of the NYC gay club scene a couple of months ago. What was that experience like? It was awesome, and it made me want to work harder. When I was at Splash, I was mad that I was performing, because I wanted to be on E, sweating my pants off in the crowd. When I play at gay clubs, it’s like playing for my friends: They get it and understand what I’m trying to say, and they have a very open mind about art, pop and commercial music. When I did Miss Universe, all of the gays on my site were like, “Man, you looked so cool. We loved your outfit.” But every now and then you’ll see a comment that’s like, “I love her, but she’s a little weird.” I’m always thinking to myself, Oh, they just don’t know fashion. [Laughs] Performing for years in downtown clubs, your life could’ve taken a darker turn. How’d you avoid temptation? Well, I really didn’t for a little while. I was for sure not focused, but I was making great work. I don’t want to encourage people to do drugs for music or anything, but I did it because I wanted to understand what inspired the artistic life of the ’70s and how Andy Warhol functioned. It was sort of a creative journey for myself, and at some point it just got out of hand. I was having trouble sleeping, and I would have a panic attack after one glass of wine just because my body was so afraid of substance. I was too afraid to lose everything. Was there a night in particular that inspired “Just Dance”? Yeah, for sure. If you’ve ever been so high that it’s, like, scary, the only way you can deal with it is not deal with it, so you just kind of dance through the intoxication. I wrote the song the day after I had just flew in from New York to L.A., so I was taken very quickly out of my party lifestyle. I wrote it instantly—like it flew out of my body. I’d been working on this album for two-and-a-half years, and I was at a crossroads with my songwriting. I was trying to be so cool with my own music, but I would get better responses when I would write for other artists because I was not trying to be cool. So when I did “Just Dance,” that was my way of being like, “just fuckin’ write a good song. Stop worrying about what’s going to fly in the underground. Worry about writing a great record.” Actually, that record ended up being more powerful than any of the songs that I racked my brain writing, and after that, it was an influx of record after record. It was almost like a switch went off in my brain, and I figured out how to write a good pop song. Are you really as boy-crazy as your lyrics suggest? Yeah. Well, I’m girl-crazy too. I really depends on where I am. I love men, I love women and I love sex, but I’m actually pretty introverted right now because I’m so enveloped in my work, and it’s hard to let anybody near that. People fuck with your energy, and it’s very hard to find people that are supportive of your art and don’t want to take time away from it. A lot of times, boyfriends and girlfriends get jealous and want all your attention, and I really don’t have time for that. Do you consider yourself bisexual? Sure. I mean, I don’t really consider sexual orientation in general. It’s like, people are born the way they are. If a drag queen wanted to do Lady Gaga, what would be your best advice? If you’re wearing a blonde wig or extensions, you have to wash it with purple shampoo. Because I don’t have any yellow in my hair and I’m very insane about that. What’s been your most mind-blowing appearance thus far?Probably Gay Pride in San Francisco. To be asked to play the main stage and close the whole weekend was—I don’t know. I got very choked up on stage. Right before I did “Just Dance,” I said, “I just want to tell all of you that being here makes me so fucking proud.” Everybody looked very emotional. It was kind of this beautiful moment, because I can put out a lot of records, write for other people, sell and get famous, but it’s not the same as really connecting with and inspiring a community of people. If I can be that for anyone, especially the gay community, that’s incredible.

Source: https://ladygaga.fandom.com/wiki/HX_(magazine)

[91percentpynch]

Jean‘s first Winter Barquet without the Ravens

look i have this in my head for a while now, so i thought i might as well share it with you guys!! i have absolutely no idea where this is going, guess will find out:) jerejan isn‘t a thing yet in this headcanon, but please keep in mind that they ARE in love,,, we will see where they‘re going,,, also please keep in mind that i never took french so if the french terms are wrong i‘m sorry <33

jean only owns the suits he was forced to wear with the ravens. obviously he had no time to take it with him and no one would bother to give him the few things he actually owned back, so he has nothing to wear

as he has a mental breakdown because the thought of meeting his ex-teammates alone gives him anxiety jeremy walks in, smiling softly as he asks „so i guess we should get you a nice suit for tonight. are you bringing someone by the way?“

the moment he sees jean on the floor he goes over to him and sits down next to him on the floor

„is there something that would make you feel better?“ jeremy asks quietly. „need a hug? or something else?“

jean just holds out his hand, a silent question jer quickly answers by taking his hand and softly squeezing it

„we got this dude, don‘t worry i‘ll keep you safe“ jeremy whispers as jean is trying to stop his sobs

„how exactly do you plan to stop them?“ jean asks, with a thick french accent he gets when his panic attacks are especially bad

„oh, a man never tells his secrets. you will see when we need to find out“, jeremy laughs.

they stay in that position for a while before slowly getting up to go to the mall to get jean a suit

when they sit in the car and jeremy‘s about to start his car he asks jean if it‘s okay to listen to music, or if he‘d rather have it quiet

„music, because quiet reminds me of them“, jean whispers, ashamed that he would allow to show weakness to his captain

„music it is my dude“, jeremy says and puts on his french playlist. „thought you might like that“, he looks flashing a grin at jean

jer obviously knew jean liked it, jean told jer about his love to music/ french music when they started talking, he told him it calms him down

jean just puts his head against the window, looking at nothing in peticular

at the mall they go into the first store who sells suits (because they‘re slightly stressed to make it back in time, they‘re both masters in procastination)

„okay so i thought of something, cause shopping for clothes is always super boring. so we both choose something for the other person and try it on together. you don‘t have to take my choice but you have to at least try it on“

„but you have terrible taste, jeremy. terrible“

„well than you can only improve the way i look, can‘t you?“, jer replies with a wink, „and my taste is perfectly fine“

jean doesn‘t reply to that, as the only thought in his head „everything is perfect about you, everything but the way you dress“, but he will not say such things to his captain

jeremy takes his lack of an answer as a yes and disappears to look for suits

sharing a dom for a few months and the fact that jer leaves his stuff lying around jean knows jer‘s size

not that he would be interested in jeremy, not that he would spend hours on end thinking about his captain

jean picks out a navy blue suit and a light grey bow tie which happens to have the exact same color as his eyes

slowly he goes looking for jeremy, who waits for him in front of the dressing rooms with his characteristic toothy grin

„okay show me what you got“, jer says when jean is within earshot

jean hands his finding over without a word - blushing a bit

jer takes it, hands jean a suit and diappears in the changinng room

jean slowly goes in the one next to jer and changes in the suit jer gave him

once he‘s done he looks at himself in the mirror

jeremy chose a light grey suit with a navy blue suit

they unintentionally match

when jean leaves the changin room, jer is already waiting, happily chatting with an employee about the exy season

he stands there awkwardly looking at jeremy, not saying a thing, until jeremey turns around and notices him

jeremy gives him a once over and nods satisfied with himself

„we‘re matching, i like that“, he says softly, blushing

„i have to admit, this is not as terrible as i thought it would end up to be. you look faboulous, no wonder when i pick out your outfit“

„well, you look rad as fuck my dude. you‘re definetly buying that, well not you but coach. coach told me to get us some nice suits, apparently the one i own is - i quote - ‚a unnecessary threat to society‘“

„he isn‘t wrong though“, jean says, a small smile on his lips.

„holy shit you‘re smiling, i either said something unbelieveable stupid or funny. i thought i had to talk french again to make you feel better“

jeremy took french as soon as he knew jean would come to the trojans so he could talk to jean in private, if needed to

„please don‘t. your french is terrible“, jean replies, his smile only getting bigger at the thought of jer‘s terrible pronounciation

„hey“, jer says jokingly offended

they change back in their regular clothes, pay the suits and head back to their dorm

„you wanna listen to that french music while we pack for tonight?“, jeremy asks quitely when they close their dorm door behind them

jean can only nod, his panic slowly growing

on the way to palmetto state - where the winter barquet will take place this year - jeremy sits next to jean

when jer notices jean getting nervouse/ anxiouse he offers him his hand

„my mom used to hold my hand when i was anxious, said she‘d keep me safe. thought it might help you as well“, jer is blushing again, avoiding jean‘s eyes

jean takes jer‘s hand without comment, thinking how soft they are over and over and over again

„why didn‘t you bring a date? i bet the ladies would kill someone to go on an event like that with a guy like you?“, jean asks jeremy in a sorry try to distract himself from the ever rising anxiety

„i‘m not into girls, first of all. and secondly i might like someone who would not be ready to with me there and i will not force them to do anything when they are clearly not ready“

jean pretty much stopped paying attention when jeremey said he was into guys

„what do you mean by ‚a guy like me‘?“, jer asks winking

„oh you know, unbelieveably annoying, decent looking, kind. isn‘t that what girls are into these days? i wouldn‘t know, all we got to be interested in was exy, exy, exy“, jean whispered, blushing

„annoying, huh?“, jer laughed.

jean didn‘t know what to reply so he decieded to stare out the window - definetly NOT thinking about how beautiful jeremy‘s eyes look in the stupid light of the bus

„hey wanna listen to the french music again? someone told me lately that my pronunciation is shit, so i need to listen to it anyways as this french guy won‘t help me out. we can share my headphones if you want?“

jean had never seen jeremy so shy, and he had to admit jer is even more adorable and attractive that way

not that jean would pay that much attention to jeremy knox

jean just nods unable to form a word, yet a sentence

when he put the headphone in his ear, he leans his head against the window and shortly after that falls asleep

when they arrived at palmetto state, jer wakes jean up softly

jean didn‘t let go of jer‘s hand - his grip only tightening- until they reached the home locker room where they would put their stuff and get changed for the barquet

„don‘t worry, i will keep you safe. i will punch anyone who looks at you funny“, jeremy whispers to jean when jean struggled to close the buttons of his shirt

jean‘s hand wouldn‘t stop shaking so jeremy closed the buttons of jean‘s shirt for him

jean suddenly gets very inappropriate thoughts while silently watching jer buttoning his shirt

„ready.“ jean answers, taking jer‘s hand

„ready?“ jer asks, holding out his hand, when they are changed

as soon as they entered the court jean looks for renee, in order to Not Look at the raven‘s table

obviously renee would spot him immediatly and drag her girlfriend alison with her to greet him

renee hugs him tightly completly ignoring jeremy

„i missed you, skyping just isn‘t enough j. you gotta visit me sometime. anyways i asked wymack to sit the foxes and the trojans together, so you can sit with me and tell me everything“, she said softly against his chest with a grin on her face.

jean isn‘t used to people being happy to see him so he is lowkey overwhelemed

„o- okay, but you gotta let me go first“

renee lets go almost immediatly, taking his other hand

it‘s only then that she notices jeremy

„oh god you two are matching, alison look they are matching“, she says excitedly

but alison only has eyes for her gorgeous girlfriend

jeremy laughs quietly while renee drags them to their seats

jean takes the place next to renee, jeremey sits next him, across from jean sits matt boyd, to matt‘s left kevin day and to matt‘s righ is dan

jean only focuses on renee though

they talk about school, their free time activities, the exy season, renee‘s plans for when she‘s done with college

jean does not let go of jeremy‘s hand until dinner arrives

they eat in silence, everyone‘s too busy with the delicous food

after everyone‘s done with dinner the tables are getting moved to the sides of the court, christmas music starts to play, someone brings the punch in and everyone starts to socialise

people are bringing their dates on the dance floor to slow dance under the mistletoes

„do you, uhm, do you maybe wanna dance with me?“, jer asks aggressivly blushing

„you wanna dance with me? what would the person you talked about on the bus would say to that?“, jean answers, having had a punch or two too much to calm his nerves

„that‘s what i‘m trying to find out right now actually“, jeremy replies shyly

„wait i‘m the mysterious guy you like? why?“, jean is suddenly not so drunk at all, rather confused than anything else

„dude have you looked in a mirror lately? i‘ve had a crush on you since i first saw you on court. started out as a stupid little crush, but then you started to live with me, play exy with me and i got to know you. you are so strong, so funny if you let yourself be, you are talented and so much more. i would add ‚good dancer‘ to that list, but you‘d have to dance with me for that“, jer says still blushing, avoiding his eyes

„okay, then let‘s show these losers how to dance“, jean replies, a small smile on his lips

jeremy knox liked him the way he liked him jeremy knox liked him the way he liked him jeremy knox liked him the way he liked him

so they ended up slow dancing at the edge of the dance floor

laila and renee saw them and took a quick picture of them before leaving them be

eventually it was only jean and jeremy, no ravens, no teams, no exy court

„i wanna see the stars“, jean says, suddenly having the urge to see the bright spots against the dark sky. needing to show jeremy, to make him understand

„i think it‘s okay when we disappear for a second“, jeremy says against his chest, as he still leans against jean from the slow dancing

so jean leads them out and as soon as they are outside he searches the night sky for the stars

when he found them jean points at them and says „look at the stars. you are the stars. you are bright and people look for you, people love you, people want to be with you. me? i‘m the night sky. i‘m dark, people are afraid of me. i am nothing worth looking at“

„jean, you are none of the things you said right now. if no one else i would always come looking at you. you are not dark. you surrived darkness and you came out of it. you surrived. you made it. and i am so unbelieveably proud of you. you are so strong and beautiful and if no one else, i want to be with you“

jean never cried, not when his parents sold him and homesickness almost killed him, not when riko tortured him, not when kevin left him alone in that hellhole, but this? silent tears are running down his cheeks

jer‘s hand is reaching up to his face to put them away, but he stops a few inches away, asking „may i?“

jean only asks

jeremy softly puts jean‘s tears away with his thumb

„i really wanna kiss you, can i kiss you?“, jeremy asks softly.

jean is unable to say a single word so he just nods and leans in to jer

and that‘s the story of their first ever kiss

it‘s also the story why jean calls jer „mon étoile“

[megalony]

Teacher’s Pet- Part 10

This is the next part of my dad! Ben Hardy series which has gotten some lovely feedback, I’m so happy you all seem to be enjoying it. I hope you will like this part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog​ @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @gwilymleeisbae​ @k-k0129​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @glittrixvibe​

Series masterlist

Summary: Gwilym sets Ben up on a date with (Y/n) who teaches at the school Ben’s kids go to. But Ben is hesitant in the relationship, desperate not to make the same mistakes and needing to put his kids first.

Enjoy.

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"Can you play football?"

(Y/n) turned her head to look over at James who was sitting next to her with wide eyes full of curiosity. James was sitting packed rather tightly between Finn in his car seat and (Y/n) on his left but he wasn't complaining one bit. He seemed to like sitting next to (Y/n) because he could chat to her and she didn't get bored or annoyed with him.

"I'm not the best but I can play if you want."

"Buddy, we're going for a walk, we'll play football next time." Ben took a quick look in the rear view mirror to check on James who nodded, thankfully not angry or mad that they weren't going to play football like all the boys loved to when Ben had a day off.

Ben knew it wasn't the best solution to have (Y/n) sitting in the back with the boys but it was how it had to be right now. Ben had a silent rule not to have the boys all in the back together unless it was a last resort or if all the boys had been exceptionally calm. If they all sat together and Carter lashed out or James got annoyed or both started to fight it would send Finn into a panic attack and Ben couldn't have Carter lashing out at the boys.

It wasn't normally an option to have Carter sitting in the front either in case he got distressed or had a tantrum. But James wanted to sit and talk to (Y/n), Finn had to be in the back and it felt better to have Carter and James sitting separate.

"You okay honey?" (Y/n) looked over at Finn, smiling at the three year old who wasn't speaking except for mumbling the lyrics to the song playing on the CD. He managed a small smile in response but held his toy tighter to his chest, talking to (Y/n) was getting easier for him but it wasn't something he was amazingly comfortable with.

"Dad the CDs playing up." Carter folded his arms over his chest as he turned his head to the right to look over at Ben. Having the music on in the car made Carter feel better, he loved to sing along to the songs and he liked having a CD much better than the radio. He could flick through the songs he didn't like and didn't have to listen to the ones he didn't like or the people or adverts on the radio.

"I know, I have to get it fixed buddy but it's fine it still works." Ben tried skipping to the next song to see if it would play properly. Something was up with the player, it was catching the CDs and making the songs scratch and repeat or not work and when it buffered like this it grated on Carter's nerves. Ben didn't like it either but it didn't bother him like it did Carter, for the eldest boy it almost hurt when he tried to sing and the song played up or he couldn't listen to it properly.

Carter nodded and slouched down in the front seat but he shivered when the song paused for two seconds before catching between seconds and playing the same word over and over.

"Dad fix it!" Carter roughly pressed the button to skip to another song before he folded his arms over his chest and waited for it to play up.

"Carter I'm driving and I'm not a technician I'll get it sorted soon I promise-"

"It won't work!" With a growl Carter bashed his hand into the buttons as he felt like crying when his favourite song came on and it already started scratching. He didn't like it, this was his favourite CD and it wasn't playing right and if something didn't go right Carter didn't like when he or someone else couldn't fix it.

"Why don't you put the radio on?" (Y/n) leaned forward to try and look at Carter who was sitting in the seat in front of her. She rested her hand on his shoulder but he shrugged her off and shook his head. Ben and (Y/n) were beginning to notice that whenever Carter was getting mardy or having a tantrum, he did try and stop or be quiet if (Y/n) was around because he didn't like getting mardy around her. It was a very good thing in Ben's eyes because it meant (Y/n) was helping to calm Carter down and curb his attitude just by being around.

"He doesn't like the radio on, neither does Finn. You either have to suck it up or turn it off."

Ben almost jumped in his seat and his hands tightened around the steering wheel when Carter growled before he sank in his seat and kicked his feet against the dashboard in front of him the moment his favourite part of the song buffered.

"Make it play properly- this is my song! Daddy fix it." Carter almost screamed as he continued to kick his legs on the dashboard and buried his face in his hands. His fingers curled into his hair as he felt like he was going to combust. He wanted the song to play right, it had to stop buffering like this because it sounded awful and he just wanted it to play properly.

"Carter stop it or I'll have to pull over- no Carter don't you fucking dare!" Ben turned off the CD player before moving to change gear which he had to do quickly when Carter tried to grab his hand. He wasn't trying to mess around he just wanted Ben to fix the CD but he couldn't grab him when he was driving like that.

"Okay Carter, honey look out the window for me. Look out the window and tell me five things you can see."

Sitting as far forward in her seat as she could, (Y/n) took hold of Carter's hands and pulled his arms until they were held to his chest. She kept hold of him until he whined and slouched to the left so he could look out of the window.

(Y/n) knew from experience that a lot of kids benefited from trying to focus and ground themselves when something was wrong like this. The usual pattern was to find five things you could see, four things you could hear, three you could touch, two could could smell and something you could taste. It was a good way to ground back to reality and helped with panic attacks. But for now if Carter could focus on just finding five things he could see then he might be able to calm himself down and focus on that rather than the fact that he couldn't listen to his music.

(Y/n) stayed sitting close to Carter's seat, watching as he turned so he could look at her before he quietly whispered a list of things he could see. He still looked agitated but he wasn't lashing out anymore and he was much calmer which was good.

The moment Ben pulled up into a space, he rubbed his face with his hands before turning to look at Carter.

"Buddy I know the CD needs to be on for you but if you try and grab me when I'm driving like that you can't sit in the front, it's dangerous."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know, please just try not to do that again. Come on, let's go for this walk." Ben got out the car and turned to get Finn out, noticing he didn't look too panicked which made Ben feel relieved. Finn wasn't always comfortable on trips out, he liked going out with Ben and his brothers because they all made him feel safe. But when he went out where other people were around it made him very socially aware and anxious and he was still trying to adjust to (Y/n).

It had already been discussed between (Y/n) and Ben that they would have to sit Finn down and have a talk with him. They needed to make sure he was comfortable around (Y/n) and try to get him to open up a bit more because Ben couldn't be the only person Finn talked to or wanted to be around. If Ben couldn't take Finn to school or pick him up or take him out and (Y/n) did that instead then Finn had to be comfortable around (Y/n).

"Okay buddy, you ready?" Ben took Finn's hand when he got him out the car and smiled when Finn seemed rather calm.

The five of them started walking into the park with Carter speeding ahead of them, James stood holding (Y/n)'s hand and Finn stood between Ben and (Y/n) holding Ben's hand.

"Can I go off with Carter?" James looked between (Y/n) and Ben when he saw Carter drifting over onto the grass. Going to the park was always an activity Ben decided to do with the boys because Carter could burn off his energy, James enjoyed a walk and time outside was good for Finn and calmed him down. It was easy too because Carter didn't usually have any tantrums or meltdowns when he was happy running around like this and Finn rarely got panicked as long as he was calm with Ben and didn't drift far away.

"Course, just don't wind him up."

(Y/n) watched the two boys run over onto the newly cut grass for a few moments before her eyes suddenly darted to look down to her right. Her heart jumped up into her throat and the lack of breath made her feel lightheaded when she looked at Finn. The youngest boy was looking up at her with very cautious, wide eyes as he reached out and took her hand in his free one.

The small gesture was a very big step forward for Finn and when Ben realised what he'd done he didn't know what to say or do. Touch was something Finn was very uneasy about with everyone except for Ben.

Being around (Y/n) was never going to be an easy thing for Finn because his experience with his own mother was one he didn't understand. He was too young to know what exactly had happened but it made him not want to be near (Y/n) in the beginning because his mother had been cruel and if she was cruel then he didn't know if (Y/n) would be too. But to take her hand like this and not panic about being so close to her or having her around or in his home was progress that made Ben relieved beyond words.

Ben had to try and balance making Finn calm and getting him back into the world. He tried to do things that calmed Finn down like being on time and going everywhere with him or letting him stay in his bed when he had a nightmare. But Ben also had to try and get Finn to be ready for the world, if he got too attached or too anxious when he wasn't around Ben then when he grew up his anxiety would only get worse.

"Carter said your his mummy now... are you my mummy?"

"Not if you don't want me to be. If you want me to be your step-mum or just your dad's friend that's okay." (Y/n) wasn't so sure Finn would want her to be his mum, he had seemed hell-bent on not having a mum the first time she met him and that was only to be expected after what he had gone through.

Finn didn't answer, he simply nodded his head as they kept walking but it wasn't a bad sign. He didn't want to say anything because he didn't know what he wanted to think but he was processing this and he wasn't shutting down or going into a panic attack so Ben would say this was a winning situation.

"I was wondering... why don't I go ahead with Carter for a bit?"

"What, you mean you want some time alone with him?" 

"He loves having you to himself and I think one to one time might keep him calm and make him happy." (Y/n) knew that one to one time helped Carter, he could talk and feel understood and not feel like he had to share the attention like he did with James and Finn around. Carter understood he couldn't always have the attention but he had to share Ben with two brothers who needed his attention too.

"Yeah, yeah okay that might do him good. I'd never mind you wanting to do that with him just as long as he hasn't had a tantrum- and you're not alone in the car with him. He normally can't sit in the front and he won't sit in the back on his own with you in the front."

Ben knew having time alone with Carter was a good thing and it meant a lot to Carter but Ben didn't always have the time to do that between work and James and Finn. With (Y/n) willing and able to give that time to Carter it might just help to keep him more settled and Carter loved to be around (Y/n) which was a bonus. The only thing Ben didn't want to happen was (Y/n) taking Carter out for a drive on their own like she did with James last week to get ice cream. If Carter had a meltdown in the front of the car (Y/n) might not be able to handle him and he wouldn't sit in the back because he felt awkward and pushed out sitting in the back if only (Y/n) was in the car too.

"Thank you."

(Y/n) squeezed Finn's hand and gave him a gentle smile and moved to kissed Ben before she pulled back to go over to Carter. Ben didn't really know why she was thanking him when he should be thanking her for putting in the effort with all the boys.

The way (Y/n) was with the boys only made Ben love her more.

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A smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips as she held her hand out towards Finn who was less reluctant to take her hand than he normally was. He wrapped his fingers around her palm before reaching over to take James' hand too for the extra sense of comfort and security.

Finn knew well enough to know that if he tried to take Carter's hand his eldest brother would just let go and move away. Carter didn't like when Finn clung to him, he didn't like anyone clinging to him. But with James, he didn't mind when Finn took his hand, he knew his little brother sometimes needed to feel safe and Ben told him it helped his brother so James didn't question it.

Carter on the other hand stood close to (Y/n)'s other side, his eyes scanning around since it was weird to see the school with very few children and parents around. They were twenty minutes earlier than normal because (Y/n) had to get to her class and prepare everything before the class arrived. Ben was at work this morning and (Y/n) didn't see why he should try and rush getting the boys here and then speed off to work when all the boys could just come down with her. None of the other teachers minded any kids coming early and the boys didn't mind either.

"Are you excited about your birthday next week?" (Y/n) smoothed her thumb over the back of Finn's hand as she looked down at him. (Y/n) had never seen Finn at a party or a big gathering and she didn't know how he would be at a party. With how anxious he got around new people, being in a crowd of people he did know still might not be something he felt comfortable with. But she knew Ben was talking about having a small party for him with family coming over to see him. The interaction would hopefully do him some good and make him feel more at ease around everyone and used to being around people.

"Daddy said we can go to the cinema." Finn seemed to nod to himself as a smile formed on his lips. Watching movies was something he really enjoyed and going to the cinema was a favourite activity for him. (Y/n) didn't think a three year old would be so content sitting for two hours in a cinema but Finn say perfectly still and watched the movies intently with some popcorn.

"Four's a big number... whose birthday's after yours then?"

"Mine! I'll be eleven, I'll get to go to big school in September." There was a small spring in Carter's step as he moved a few paces ahead of them but turned so he could look back at (Y/n) like he was waiting for her reaction or some kind of look of approval.

(Y/n) already knew Carter was excited about going to secondary school, it would be different for him and the thought made him feel grown up. But Ben still had to look through the schools and find one that would work with Carter's needs. (Y/n) had already said that she would help Ben find one for Carter because it was rather clear that they needed a special needs school. This primary school all the boys were currently at wasn't a special needs school but they did cater to Carter's needs very well but secondary school would be different.

It would be more intense for Carter, he was going to learn different things and have more lessons and if he got angry there was no telling if any of the teachers would be able to cope with him or help him. A school where the teachers knew how to cope with his anger and his learning disabilities was what they needed to better help him and keep his attitude in check.

Ben was desperately hoping that Finn's anxiety would die down over the next few years or else he would have to think about other schools for him as well. Finn wasn't talking very much in class at all and he didn't like interacting with the other kids, it had taken two months for him to be able to talk to the teacher. When Finn started proper lessons in primary school rather than his pre-school at this rate he wouldn't be able to be picked by the teacher to answer questions because he was too scared and anxious for that.

But there was seven years yet until Ben had to think about Finn's secondary school and it would be a while yet until he even went to primary school so hopefully in the next few years Finn's anxiety would be curbed and dwindled down and he could be helped to feel more comfortable.

"Eleven? No, I don't believe you."

"I am!" Carter smiled and tilted his chin up like he was trying to make himself taller when he was actually rather tall for his age which he got from Ben.

"Alright, you're dad will still be at work this afternoon so I'm gonna take you all home, okay?" (Y/n) bent down so she could look at Finn better, he was the one who she wanted to feel comfortable about this because Carter and James never minded her picking them up from school or an activity. But Finn was always anxious for Ben to be the one to come and get him and to be on time.

"Okay." Finn nodded with a small spark of anxiety in his eyes but the way he really tried to smile at (Y/n) showed he wasn't too overwhelmed by this and he was trying his best. He knew (Y/n) was on time, whenever she said she would come over at five or one in the afternoon she was always early or exactly on time. So Finn knew she wouldn't be late picking him up just like Ben always did his best never to be late.

"See you later honey." (Y/n) ruffled Finn's hair and kissed James' temple before she looked over at Carter and held her hand out towards him since they had to head back to the other part of the school.

"Mum, can I sit with you at lunch?"

(Y/n) felt like a spark had been rushed through her heart the moment Carter called her mum. Kids had always been something (Y/n) wanted in her life and teaching kids was the only job she ever wanted. When she thought of children (Y/n) always thought of a family like the one she grew up in, she had three older siblings and a younger sister and her mum and dad were still together now. Being with someone who already had three kids of his own was never something that crossed (Y/n)'s mind, but it was a better family than she could ever have conjured up in her daydreams.

And nothing could compare to Carter calling her mum and actually wanting her to be his mum. When she and Ben decided to get together (Y/n) automatically thought she would be a step-mum to the kids if their relationship progressed. She thought she would be a close friend to the boys at best, she never imagined they would want and need a mother figure in their lives as badly as all three of them did and they were so attached to her already. It was better than anything she could have imagined.

"Course you can, but don't you want to play on the field?" (Y/n) knew Carter sometimes ran around and played tag or football on the field with a few friends at lunch. But she had noticed a lot of the time he was sat in Gwilym's class eating lunch and reading a book or sitting in the peace and quiet with Gwilym rather than going out with friends for his break.

"No... I like sitting in class without everyone else, the field's too loud."

Carter sometimes didn't mind playing out with his friends but it got too rowdy and loud out in the playground and that made him frustrated when he could hear everyone else and they were running and getting in his way. Sitting in the classroom was much calmer because it was only Carter and Gwilym or Carter and (Y/n). No one was there to pester him or annoy him and he got attention if he wanted to talk and if he wanted to sit sit and calm down in silence he got that too. Sometimes Gwilym put on music in the background so Carter could calm down and relax before the next lesson.

"Alright honey, you can come sit with me whenever you like. Are you going to go play now, I think Leo is looking for you."

Carter's eyes danced from (Y/n) over to his friend who was stood over to the side of the fence with a shy smile, looking like he wanted to talk or play with Carter. He still had just over twenty minutes if he wanted to play before he had to go into class.

"Yeah, thanks mum." He let go of (Y/n)'s hand so he could wrap his arms around her and reel her in for a quick hug before he darted off quicker than lightning to go and see his friend.

(Y/n) smiled at the two before they disappeared around the side of the building to go to the playing field. When they were both out of sight (Y/n) made her way into the side entrance and headed down the small corridor until she made it to Gwilym's classroom. Leaning against the door, (Y/n) gently tapped her knuckles against it to let him know she was there.

He almost seemed surprised to see her as if he forgot for a moment that (Y/n) worked here too. His eyes widened behind his circular glasses but he smiled broadly and beckoned her to come inside and sit with him. He was sat at his desk with a pile of dark leaf green books on one side and a sheet of what looked like quiz answers on his right. He put down the pen in his hand and turned his chair to face her when she sat down next to him.

"Is it true?"

For a brief moment (Y/n) was alarmed by Gwilym's words but the smile on his face and the way his pupils seemed to dance made her nerves calm down a little.

"Is what true?"

"Carter's been telling me he has a mum now, he seems really happy and he's a bit calmer in class at the moment too." Gwilym leaned back in his seat but the wide smile on his face made (Y/n) blush. She didn't even consider Carter telling Gwilym or anyone else that he was thinking and classing (Y/n) as his mother now but to know he was truly happy about it made her giddy.

It also meant that she was right in the assumption that he just needed another figure in his life to calm him down, especially a mother figure. He had to fight for Ben's attention because Ben struggled with all three boys on his own but with (Y/n) around she gave him the attention he needed and gave him stability at home. Things not going his way or his home life being unsettled made him uneasy when he was at school so being comfortable at home was making it easier for him at school.

"He needs another figure in his life to calm him down and he said he wants me to be his mum... so I said it was okay." (Y/n) bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling too widely.

She had yet to even tell her family that she was so close to all the boys, if they ever saw her parents and Carter suddenly called her mum it would be a bit of a shock to her family if she didn't explain things first. But (Y/n) was so happy things had turned out like this rather than how she feared none of the boys would take to her. She thought both Carter and James would be hung up on the fact that they already had their mothers and wanted them not (Y/n) and Finn didn't seem to want a mother in the beginning either.

"Well I think it's great for all of you and James loves you already, and you seem on good terms with Finn despite everything. See, I'm a matchmaker."

"You are a matchmaker, the best one I know... do you think you could help me with something?" The sudden change in tone made Gwilym sit up a bit straighter in his chair and his eyes narrowed when he noticed (Y/n) suddenly looked overly nervous rather than blushing and excited.

"Sure, what's up?" Gwilym scooted his chair a bit closer to (Y/n) and tried to smile calmly, he didn't want her to sit and panic when this could be something rather simple and easy that she was overthinking. He had dealt with Ben when he was in a state after fighting with Carter or when things had gone bad between him and Lucy so for Gwilym this was a walk in the park compared to those type of situations.

(Y/n) entwined her hands together and looked down at her lap for a moment as she held her breath to try and ensure that she didn't start to panic. This wasn't something she wanted or should be panicking about, at least it wasn't something she thought she should be panicking about. But she couldn't help it because she knew how this would go down with everyone else and that made her stomach churn and her chest tighten.

"(Y/n), what is it?" Gwilym reached across and placed his hand over hers when she didn't say anything because she was starting to worry him now.

"I... I don't know what to do because I don't think Ben's reaction will be pleasant." (Y/n) knew Ben well enough by now to be able to assume that his reaction to what was wrong wouldn't be pleasant, it wouldn't be good or happy and (Y/n) knew that. But his reaction was exactly what she was worried about.

"Why not?"

"Because I think I might be pregnant."

[sunsetcurbed]

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie  Words: 6,242  Rating: T  Chapter Warnings: panic attack, later on a character expresses past worries about being followed Chapter: 7/11  read on AO3 

Chapter Summary:  The stares don't start until a couple hours in the next day. Everyone is too tired in the morning to be paying attention in the hallways. On the way to econ though, after meeting up with Luke and Flynn, he can see people stop and double take when he walks past, he can feel the eyes on him, hear the whispers.

(*) 

The stares don't start until a couple hours in the next day. Everyone is too tired in the morning to be paying attention in the hallways. On the way to econ though, after meeting up with Luke and Flynn, he can see people stop and double take when he walks past, he can feel the eyes on him, hear the whispers. A pressure starts building in the middle of his forehead and there's acid in his throat. Luke and Flynn notice when he starts to lag behind them, his eyes focused on the floor, even though they're not really focused on the floor because everything is kind of… blurred and hazy. He thinks he's stopped walking by this point. He can still feel the eyes on him.

"Heeey," Luke's voice sings, coming up on Alex's right. "Hey, buddy, I'm gonna grab your arm so I can take you over to the wall, okay?" Alex thinks he nods. He still feels the eyes on him. Luke gets him to the wall and presses his back against it and tells him to sit down. Alex slides down until his butt hits the ground then closes his eyes. He draws his knees up to his chest and even though he can't feel the eyes anymore, he can remember the whispers over the rushing of the blood in his head. His throat burns. "Hey, Alex," Luke says, close to Alex's ear. "I'm gonna count for you, and I need you to breathe with the numbers, okay?" He then starts in on one of Alex's breathing exercises, and Alex goes with it, even if he can't quite make it to eight on the exhale because he doesn't have enough breath and his chest burns with the lack of air. Oh, god. He doesn't have enough breath. He draws in a deep, gasping breath to fill his lungs but it doesn't feel like enough. He can't get enough—it's not enough—there's not enough—

He doesn't remember going under water, but he's drowning now. He doesn't know when he got here. He doesn't know how he got here. He doesn't know where the surface is and how to swim up to it. He feels weighted down. His limbs are heavy and—and he can't even feel his fingers. Oh, god. He can't feel his fingers. He tries wiggling them but nothing happens—nothing except an increase of noise under the water. He vaguely registers his heart beating in overtime, trying to keep up with his body. His body is trembling, of that much he's sure, but it's not disturbing the water around him, because there are no ripples, there are no waves. He's shaking but everything around him is calm.

"Alex, can you hear me?" Alex lifts his head and opens his eyes—the water got into his eyes. Either that or he's crying—to see two people in front of him. One is crouching beside him and one is standing in front of him and holding her backpack on the side that the other isn't on, blocking him from sight of anyone who might pass. Alex draws in another breath, filling his lungs as full as they'll go. "Can you hear me, Alex?" Alex looks at him. Luke. He looks up at the girl. Flynn. He nods. "Sweet. Can you tell me five things you can see?" Backpack, board, locker, garbage, orange. "Orange? Wh—oh, my hoodie, yeah. All right, four things you can feel?" Dirt on floor, wall against back, rings on fingers—didn't he not have fingers?—, shoes against toes. "Three things you can hear?" Luke's voice, desks moving around, and the front office phones ringing. "Two things you can smell?" The chemicals from the bathroom right behind them, his Old Spice deodorant. "And what about taste?"

Alex sits up straighter. "I'm good now," he says.

"Uh-uh," Luke shakes his head. "You've got one more. You're finishing this, come on. Please."

"Mint, from my gum earlier."

"Good, buddy," Luke praises. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," he admits.

"Do you want to go to the nurse?" Flynn asks.

"No. No. He can't do anything. All he ever does is has me sit there for a few minutes and then sends me back to class anyways."

"We could go to the front office instead then," she tries. "They could call your mom or dad—"

"No," Alex shakes his head. "I don't—I don't. I don't want to bother them. I'll be fine."

"They're your parents," Flynn frowns. "You wouldn't be bothering them."

"We can just skip econ," Luke says. "Go hang out in the music room, Mrs. Harrison would let us. We've already missed the first fifteen minutes. And Mrs. Lewis would understand why we skipped too, she's chill."

"I… I couldn't…"

"Yes you could," Flynn says, "and you are. You need a break, Alex. If you won't go to the nurse and won't go to the front office, then we're doing this."

Flynn and Luke drag him across the school to the music room where Mrs. Harrison is setting up for the lesson. When Flynn explains what happened, Mrs. Harrison offers to email Mrs. Lewis and explain the situation, so Alex relaxes. She gives the three of them free reign and Alex makes his way immediately to the drums. He's exhausted, but the drums are his happy place. The drums will rejuvenate him. He starts out with a steady beat, trying to give his heart something to follow, and then starts to add on to it. Luke joins in on the guitar and then Flynn on the trumpet, and they have a small jam session, just the three of them. It almost makes him completely forget that he'd just been drowning for the better part of fifteen minutes.

He manages to make it the rest of the day without another panic attack despite all the eyes on him. His friends all walk him to class, even though he doesn't have public speaking or biology with any of them, and he's grateful for that. But by the time he makes it to the consulate that afternoon, he's still mentally and physically exhausted. It's Tuesday, so his first thing to do is therapy, and he's… not exactly looking forward to that. He is planning to ask about how to overcome his anxiety so he has a chance at being prince if he decides, but after today, he's not sure if that's even possible. But, according to his therapist it is.

"Right, we'll get to that, but you told me the other day that you think your friend Julie had a good point about your social anxiety, can you remind me what that was?" his therapist, Tessa, asks.

"Uh—she thinks, when people are looking at me with the band, or with other people, I don't get anxious, or as anxious, because I think people are perceiving me in relation to the people I'm with, and I think they're seeing me as I see the people I'm with. But when people are looking at me as me, they're looking at me how I look at myself."

"And how do you look at yourself?"

Alex snorts. "Badly?"

"What do you mean by 'badly'?"

"Just… I'm anxious, I worry about things that normal people don't worry about and I have fears that normal people don't fear and I'm wired really tight. And I'm boring—I feel like I'm not interesting and all I talk about is music, and now Beasiga, and sometimes school, and the books I'm reading which are someone else's thoughts, not mine. I have weird thoughts, like those weird fears I mentioned and just… weird things running through my head that I wouldn't want to tell other people and I constantly worry that I'm accidentally going to say one of those weird things but I also feel like people somehow know what I'm thinking anyways like they can read my mind? And then I can be mean to good people, like when I met my grandma I just… I ran out on her and I didn't even give her a chance, y'know? And I make snarky comments at my friends sometimes that sometimes can cross a line and I don't mean to, I just… I don't have as much patience as I feel like everyone else has? And I'm gay, which isn't… that's not bad but some people think it is so sometimes I hate that I am, especially because my parents aren't okay with it. I say things that sometimes make me sound stupid or just… absolutely wild, and I always feel out of place, like everyone else belongs and I just don't have a reason to be there. … And my friends are such better people than me that I'm not sure how I ended up being friends with them," he says, the words tumbling from his mouth with barely any thought.

Tessa nods, and Alex wants to laugh. Anyone else that he unloaded that on would have stared at him with concern and maybe asked if he was okay, but she just. She just nods. "So you value your friends very much?"

"Very much."

"And their opinions?"

"Yes."

"And yet you question their choice to have you as a friend?"

Alex frowns. "Not… not exactly? I just… More like I don't know how I got so lucky."

"But you value their opinions."

"Yes," he says, cautious now.

"So if your friends have chosen to be friends with you, they must see something in you, much like you see something in them, meaning they think very highly of you as well. And if you value their opinion, then… perhaps you should ask their opinion on you, and put some stock in that," she suggests. "Perhaps start viewing yourself as they see you instead of… badly."

Alex frowns. All the negative thoughts about his friendships creep into his brain at her suggestion: what if they're just friends with him because they don't know how to break it off? What if they lie to him? What if they're only friends with him to use him for the band? What if they're just genuinely too nice of people that they let him stick around?

He shakes his head.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that his friends love him. For fuck's sake, Willie and him just started dating, and Willie easily could have just turned him down or walked away instead of kissing Alex. It's cruel of Alex to think so negatively of his friends, and his stomach twists with the thought of them ever finding out. They'd be hurt at his lack of trust, which is that last thing he wants.

"And what, it's that simple?" Alex asks her. "I ask my friends how they see me and then I stop having panic attacks when people look at me?"

"No, not even close," Tessa says. "That's just a starting point. No, you have to learn to recognize what's happening, realize why it's happening, and then find the coping mechanisms to reevaluate the situation in real time." Alex stares at her and tilts his head. "Take today for example," she says. "If you had these skills you would have been able to recognize you were panicking because of the staring and whispering, realize it was because you thought people were looking at you critically, and then reevaluate—tell yourself that people were looking at you because of the news articles and their stares were out of curiosity rather than judgment."

"That… makes sense," Alex says.

"Another skill would be exposure therapy, which I think you're going to be getting whether you like it or not, even if it's not exactly… monitored or traditional. But a lot of eyes are going to be on you, and while it's going to die off soon enough—they're high schoolers, they lose interest quick—, use it to your advantage. When you start to feel overwhelmed, recognize what is going on, realize why, and reevaluate the situation that you're in. And don't get frustrated if it doesn't work the first time, or even the first few times. It's a learning process, and it will take time."

He surprises himself the next day when he stops a panic attack in its tracks, needing no help from his friends. His anxiety is still there, but even when he sees a girl point and her three friends turn around and look at him, it remains only anxiety. Once that anxiety does happen to pass, it leaves him on a high, so high that he looks at Willie at lunch and asks, "you're out to the entire school, right?" and when Willie says yes, Alex kisses him. When he pulls away, Willie is absolutely fucking beaming. They kiss a few more times throughout lunch, and then in the hallway after lunch, and people are staring at Alex again but Alex thinks: people aren't staring at him to judge him, they're staring at him because he kissed Willie. And isn't that awesome? He'd stare at whoever was kissing Willie, too.

The next two school days pass uneventfully, despite all the eyes on him. He has a few close calls with anxiety attacks, but no panic attacks, and either his friends or his new coping methods are always there to keep him breathing steady. The only other noteworthy thing that happens is that his dad has actually starts speaking to him again by Thursday—no mention of Alex's coming out on Monday, though. Alex thinks he expected this, to be honest. See, his mom thinks that because she's not calling him every slur in the book or kicking him out that she's not being homophobic. She thinks that she's being supportive. She had said the other day "just because I support you doesn't mean I have to be okay with your choice" even though she… clearly did not support him. Still, she still loved him even if she didn't support him, and that's more than a lot of kids who came out to their parents got, so Alex… he dealt with it. But… his dad.

Alex knows Mike, and he knows that he's going to ignore it, and then maybe find a girl to set Alex up with. The subtle 'I'm telling myself I've forgotten about this but I haven't actually at all, I'm just pretending it never happened' classic Mike move. He's done it before, and Alex knew he'd try it in this case if given the chance, so he is hoping to get the chance to introduce him to Willie sooner rather than later. Chances are he'll stop talking to Alex again, but at least Alex will be able to be with his boyfriend without the looming threat of being set up with a girl. (He's not sure when he stopped caring about having the man he viewed as his dad in his life, but he's pretty sure it probably started the night he walked away from Alex's coming out without a word.)

When seven pm comes around Friday night and it's time for Alex and Willie's date, their first date where Alex will actually be able to kiss Willie, Alex is all too eager to hurry out the consulate's front door to Willie's Honda as it pulls up and jump in the front seat. Just—he's a little confused this time, because as he puts his bag at his feet, he notices Willie turning the keys and pulling them out of the ignition. Alex looks over at Willie.

Willie sighs. "Can we go talk to your grandma?"

Alex doesn't know how to reply, so he's left stammering out, "uh, y-yeah. Yeah! C'mon."

They both get out of the car and Alex leads him to the door. Alex watches as Willie gets patted down by security and waved through, and then grabs his hand to take him back to the library where he had just been with his grandmother. He hopes she's still there.

Thankfully, she is, and when they reach the library, she looks up from her book. Her eyes widen. "Alexander! I thought you'd left. And who is this?"

"I'm Willie, ma'am—er, Your Majesty," Willie greets, stepping forward without thought. Only Alex's hold on his hand keeps Willie from going any further ahead.

His grandmother gets up and walks over to them. "Oh, you're Alexander's friend—" she dips her eyes down to their hands "—boyfriend?" Willie nods. "No need for the formalities, dear. Louisa is fine. William, you said your name was?"

"Uh, Willie."

"Willie," she repeats back. "I'm thankful to meet you."

"Me too," Willie nods. "But there's, uh, there's actually a reason?" Alex tightens his grip on Willie's hand. Willie squeeze's back and Alex isn't sure if it's reassurance or if it's grounding Willie.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Willie nods. "I wanted to talk to you and Alex both at the same time. I might have just had Alex tell you about it, but I wanted your opinion too, so, I just—I'm sorry, can we sit?"

"Of course," she says, and motions over to the couches in the corner. "Sit wherever you'd like." The three of them migrate over and take their seats, and then his grandmother returns her attention to Willie. "You were saying?"

"I was in Hollywood this afternoon running an errand for my mom and a man approached me. He didn't approach me like a stranger though, he knew my name. Or, he said, 'Willie, right?' I didn't know him. I still don't, but—I didn't really know how to get away. I couldn't just tell him to uh… uh… go away. I didn't want to be rude. And we were in public, so I wasn't in danger," Willie says this with a squeeze of his hand, and Alex knows it's for him. The more Willie has been talking about the situation, the more anxious Alex has been getting. Willie clears his throat and continues. "But he started asking me some stuff about Alex, like personal stuff about who he was as a person and his family life… And then some stuff about Alex and Beasiga. He started getting… really specific about Beasiga too—like stuff that I only know because Alex has told me. I was as vague as I could be, I didn't even answer most of them, I promise. But, he was really pushy. He wanted to know, really bad, to the point where he was nearly bribing me? Something about skating the streets of Hollywood? Which, yeah he might have just said because I was literally skating the streets of Hollywood, but… It… I know there are obsessive people out there, I do, but what I don't know is how to handle them. Especially not when it comes to someone else. I know because I'm connected to Alex the things I do could be connected back to him, so I can't just… be rude to people. I mean, not that I would want to be. But, I don't know what to do in these situations."

"I'm so sorry," Alex murmurs, turning to face Willie and putting his free hand on Willie's knee.

Willie turns to look at him. "No—don't be. It's not your fault, okay?"

"Yes it is—"

Willie lifts his hand to Alex's face and brushes his thumb along his cheekbone. "No. It's not. Now be quiet. I'm here to speak with Louisa." He drops his hand and turns back to Alex's grandmother. "Do you have any… advice? on how to deal with this in the future?"

"Yes, I do," she says, "but first, was the man who approached you in a suit?"

Willie nods. "Yeah."

"Did he have a rather extravagant jacket? With crystals embedded in it?"

Again, Willie nods, this time with narrowed eyes. "Yes…"

"That was Mr. Covington, I'm afraid." Alex feels his hand clench reflexively around Willie's. Willie whips his head around to look at Alex, but Alex is focused on his grandmother. His grandmother stands up and walks over to a shelf on the far side of the library. She pulls a book off the shelf and makes her way back. "Alexander, we haven't covered the Covingtons yet, but they're a grand family, and an important family in our country's history. Beyond the Mercers, the Covingtons are one of the most respected families in Beasigan history. Thomas Covington was the main author of our Constitution."

"My mom mentioned Covington," Alex says.

His grandmother sighs. "I supposed she might."

Willie looks between them. "Okay, his family is important, but who is he?"

"Caleb Covington is next in line for the Beasigan throne should Alexander decline," his grandmother says.

"W-wait. That guy?" Willie asks. "That guy will be running the country if Alex chooses not to?"

"And he wants to," Alex mutters.

"Oh, he really wants to," his grandmother huffs, pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table. Alex would drop his jaw, but he thinks he's too shocked to even move the muscles to do that. He's never seen his grandmother lose her composure, has never even dreamed of it happening. "He wouldn't stop pestering me for weeks about it. He threatened me that he was going to contact you if I didn't do it myself. It was either force a sixteen year old boy into a role that he didn't want to be ready for, or end up having that sixteen year old boy hate me for the rest of my life because a loathsome man told him about me and didn't give me a chance to explain myself." She stops her pacing and puts her hands to her forehead. She shakes her head. She looks up at Willie through her hands. "I'm truly sorry he approached you Willia—Willie. Clearly, not only does the man lack manners, but also discretion."

"Don't be sorry," Willie says. "It's not your fault."

"Nevertheless," she sighs. She looks at Alex. "I doubt he would dare to think to approach you, but I'll gather a picture of him and have John send it to you so you can be aware of who he is. You can also send it to your other friends so they can seek to avoid him as well. Do warn them not to let him know they know who he is, though. You either, Willie. If he knows you know, he won't have any reason to refrain himself from pressing even further. That being said, you don't have anything to fear from him other than persistence. He'd never risk his standing in Beasiga—he still holds a high title even if he does not become king and he will not readily give that up. He may crave power but he already holds power and he's not a stupid man."

"You… really don't like this guy," Alex says.

His grandmother looks at him and laughs a small laugh. "Was I being obvious?"

"A bit," he smiles. "But it was good for me. Really humanized you."

"Was I not human before?"

"No, not really," he admits. "You're like, perfect."

"Oh, Alexander, I'm far from perfect," she shakes her head. "Remind me to tell you some stories about my early days of royalty with my husband sometime. Those will humanize me."

He grins. "Looking forward to it."

"Well," she says, clasping her hands together, "I don't want to keep you two here all night. Unless… is there anything else you need or want to discuss, Willie?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you so much for listening and figuring that out. It was really freaking me out, so…"

"But of course," she says, waving him off. "It's no worry at all. I'm only sorry you had to go through that. And I do hope I'll see you around more? Please feel free to stop by to say hello, or even join some of Alexander's lessons if you have the time and feel like it."

"I'll take you up on that offer, definitely," Willie says, standing from the couch. Alex gets up as well. "It was really, really nice to meet you, Louisa. Again, thank you, so much. We'll leave you to your reading now though. We'll see you around."

"Bye, Grandma," Alex says, and then tugs Willie out from the space between the couch and the coffee table. His grandmother calls out a goodbye after them and they send waves over their backs.

They're quiet on their walk through the consulate and out to the car. It still remains silent as Willie turns on the car and they get strapped in and Willie puts the car in drive, but as soon as he goes to pull into the street, Alex feels himself break.

"Why didn't you call me?" he demands.

"I knew you'd freak out," Willie says, shooting him an apologetic look. "Besides, I called my mom after, so I could talk to someone because I thought—kidnappers don't take people on phones, right?"

"You were worried about being kidnapped?!"

"Not—not really?" he shrugs. "I was more worried he was going to stalk me to get to you. So I've been pretty hyper vigilant all day. I drove twenty extra minutes before I came to pick you up today just to make sure no one was following me. No one even was following me. But… just in case."

Alex blinks. On one hand, after Willie's experience today, that's a completely understandable reaction. On the other… "I think, like, by dating me, you're getting some of my anxiety." Willie leans his head back and laughs. "No, I think it's a thing. Like, every time we kiss, a little bit of anxiety leaves me and goes into you. It's why I've been doing better lately."

Willie reaches over and puts his hand on Alex's thigh. "You've been doing better lately because you're doing better. Not because of some magic kisses."

"You saying our kisses aren't magic?"

Willie squeezes Alex's thigh, hard, and when Alex looks over, he can see Willie's cheeks darkening a shade. "I'm—I'm saying, I'm proud of you, you know that, right?"

"Oh." Alex blinks. "Hang on, how did we go from you worrying you were going to get kidnapped to you being proud of me? How is that a logical progression?"

Willie laughs again, and Alex falls back into his seat, helpless.

They end up at Chipotle, sitting in a back corner booth on the same side of the table, thighs pressed flush together, shoulders brushing as they eat their bowls and watch YouTube videos on Willie's phone. They overstay their welcome, but no one kicks them out. It's just… they're just not sure where else to go. With Alex's lessons not ending until seven and the sun setting far before then, there's not too much to do on their Fridays besides sit and talk and goof around somewhere. But then Willie has an idea and pulls Alex out to his car.

"I don't know why I'm only thinking of this now," he says as he's driving down a residential street. "It feels like the obvious answer for a Friday night hang out," he says, right as he turns into a driveway. Willie shuts off the engine and gets out of the car and Alex follows, slower.

He's never been here before, but he's pretty sure this is Willie's house. If he's right, and he realizes he is as Willie unlocks the door, then that means Willie's family is inside, or at least some of them… probably. Alex has met Willie's older sister Taylor, since she was a senior when Alex was a freshman in high school. She had driven Willie home the day they had met at the beach. After that, sometimes at lunch she'd come bug her little brother and steal a chip from him and give him trouble and she always said hello to Alex and the others. But Taylor was off at NYU now. Willie's little sister Jamie doesn't go to Los Feliz High School since she isn't in performing arts but Alex has met her in passing. Willie would drive her places when he was meeting the group, and then she'd go her own way, and they'd go theirs. But Willie's parents? Alex has never met them, not once. And now, with no preparation, he thinks he's about to.

He follows Willie inside and looks around. It's definitely Willie's house—there are pictures of him and Taylor and Jamie dotted all around what Alex assumes to be the living room. He tries not to let his eyes linger on any of them too long, not wanting to intrude on any of their family memories (though, he supposes they're displayed for a reason). Willie slips his shoes off so Alex does too, and he follows him through the house.

They slow down when they pass an archway, and Alex looks in to see a sewing machine set up, fabric flowing out of it as it hums violently. There's a woman sitting behind it, staring down at what she's working on with intense concentration. On the other side of the room is a man sat behind a computer with a gaming headset on, leaning into the computer with focus.

"Hey," Willie says casually, and the noise of the sewing machine stops. Both the man and the woman look over and smile.

"Hey," the woman greets. "You're home early. How was your day?"

"Good. Alex and I ran out of places to go, so I brought him back with me," Willie explains, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to point at Alex. The woman's eyes flick to Alex. "We're gonna go watch a movie or something."

"All right," she says. "Let us know if you need anything. Alex, it's nice to meet you."

"Uh, it's nice to meet you too," he says. And, well. Huh. That wasn't bad at all. What was scary about that?

He follows Willie again until they're into what Alex assumes is Willie's room. As soon as Alex closes the door behind him, before he even has the chance to look around, Willie is dropping his backpack on the floor and walking towards Alex. "Hey," he says, putting his hands on Alex's hips and walking Alex back until Alex's hips and back are pressed against the door.

"Hey," Alex says back. He's surprised at how cool his voice sounds when in reality his heart is trembling.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"… not really."

"Huh," Willie huffs. He leans forward, resting all of his weight on Alex. Alex's heart isn't just trembling anymore—his insides are completely rattled. "Well what are we supposed to do, then?"

"I dunno," Alex mumbles. This time there's a waver in his voice, but his tone is still strong, his voice is still confident. He traces a hand up Willie's side and around his back. His hand comes to fall on Willie's shoulder blade, his fingers reaching to brush the area in the middle of his back. His eyes flick from Willie's eyes to his lips and then back again. "Guess we'll have to figure it out, huh?"

"I think I have monopoly around here somewhere," Willie suggests, bringing his hand up to curl around Alex's neck. Alex feels a shock go through his body. The hand slips around so Willie's got a hold on the back of Alex's neck rather than the side of it, and Willie's eyes turn dark. He uses his hand to bring Alex forward a bit, but because of their position—Willie's body pressing his to the door—it ends up just tilting Alex's head back. Willie nudges Alex's chin with his nose and grins.

"Too boring with two players," Alex says, straightening his head again and tilting it down so the few inches he has on Willie stop feeling like a barrier. It's just… he doesn't lose himself with Willie, he just… feels vulnerable, feels like he's being taken apart piece by piece only to be put back together in an even more beautiful, sensible way. He shifts his weight on his feet, moving their entire position against the door, and then slips his hand that's still by his side beneath Willie's shirt and strokes his side. He feels Willie shiver lightly beneath his fingers. "What about scrabble?"

"You're much better with words than I am, not a fair game," Willie hums, and grabs Alex's wrist to stop him from caressing his side. Alex pushes down a feeling of smug satisfaction of finally getting through to his boyfriend. Willie presses Alex's wrist against the door and pushes their foreheads together, shutting his eyes as he does so. Alex lets his fall shut as well. "How about… tic-tac-toe?"

"Hmm… no, too predictable. What about hangman?" he asks, then, limited in his options with one hand pinned to the door, curls the fingers he has resting on Willie's upper back, digging his fingers in as deeply as he can. He's not expecting that to be what makes Willie break, but it does. As soon as his fingers press into Willie's back, the other boy is diving into Alex, connecting their mouths for a frantic kiss. Alex isn't prepared for it, had been expecting Willie to come back with another suggestion, so he gasps into the kiss. Willie mimics him, parting his lips as well, and then Alex can feel Willie, taste Willie. Alex's heart pounds in his chest and his blood rushes through his veins and the symptoms of… this are so similar to the start of a panic attack but during a panic attack Alex feels like he's drowning and now… now he feels like he's flying.

Willie uses the hand behind Alex's neck to pull him away from the door as he steps backwards, knowing the layout of his room so well that even while his attention is focused entirely on Alex, he can lead Alex slowly while walking backwards until they reach the bed. At that point, Willie breaks the kiss and hops on to the bed, looking at Alex with a clear invitation, but there's also uncertainty, as if moving to a bed is somehow a huge step. And Alex supposes in a way it is. They've only ever managed kissing in a vertical position and in public, which in turn, has kept all of their kissing more… tame. Simple. Mellow. They've never gotten to be a teenage couple and just… make out. Still, it's cute that Willie has had this pause, is so obviously waiting for Alex to make the next move. So Alex does.

He climbs on the side of the bed, staring at Willie, and knee walks over to him until he has one knee on either side of Willie's hips so he's straddling him. Willie stares up at him, hair fanned along his pillows, and his face is several shades darker than usual. Alex bites his lip to stop himself from grinning, and instead leans down to bump their noses together, careful to keep their lips separated even as Willie tries to kiss him. "I like your room."

"You haven't even seen my room," Willie says, eyes flickering between Alex's eyes and his lips.

"Sure I have." He flicks his eyes to the side. "You've got blue bedding. And monopoly, somewhere."

Willie groans, scrunching his nose. "Are we really doing this again?"

"I don't know," Alex hums. "I like affecting you."

"You always do," Willie tells him. He slips a hand up and cups Alex's jaw. "Always have."

"I like being able to see it," Alex admits. "I feel like I'm always the one giving in to you. Half the time you kiss me out of nowhere and I just—I don't know how to react after. You make me stupid."

Willie grins and huffs out a laugh. Alex is so close he can feel Willie's breath wash over his face. "Half the time I kiss you out of nowhere because I'm gone on you, dude. Most of the time, me kissing you is me being affected. You probably just did something hella cute."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Willie says. "Like, god, like right fucking now. 'Oh,'" he repeats with a roll of his eyes, and then surges up, locking their lips together. This time, Alex is at least a bit more prepared. He kisses back immediately and tries to take control this time. It takes Willie a minute to notice Alex's goal, so there's a bit of a battle between them—Willie leading subconsciously and Alex trying to sway it into his favor, until suddenly Willie realizes and backs down without any more of a fight. Willie relaxes back into his pillow, his hand drifts from Alex's jaw to his hip, and he brings his other hand up to slide beneath Alex's shirt to just rest on his stomach. Meanwhile Alex cards his fingers through Willie's hair, using his hold to gently guide Willie's head to where he wants it to be. He's propped up by his elbow on one side of Willie's head, so he uses that hand to play with strands of Willie's hair mindlessly. And slowly, his lips work against Willie's, and Alex wants this moment to last forever, wants to live in this feeling of being loved, being wanted, being held, being desired, being Willie's. Realistically he knows it won't last forever.

For right now, tonight's enough.

[rayne-storm]

AUgust 14 - Chefs

Title: WENN LIEBE IN DIR IST… UND GUTES ESSEN

Fandom: Tanz Der Vampyr

Alfred/Herbert, Graf/Sarah

This is my favourite musical. Straight up. You cannot get better than this. Maybe "Master and Margarita" but I haven't found a good bootleg of it.

I really hope you guys like this one!!!

Oh, there they were again. That damned truck with it's bombastic orchestral music, the catchy paintings, and the obnoxious sign boy. Alfred knew they were doing this on purpose, parking there because they knew how much it pissed off the staff of his own restaurant. Sure, it wasn't really "his" restaurant. It really belonged to Abronsius, the eclectic perfectionist who taught him everything.

And there the sign boy went, platinum hair flowing ever so delicately on the wind. He chatted up anyone that came by, and of course the mesh shirt mixed with the weird cape thing only made the spectacle that much more intriguing.

Alfred must have been glaring for too long because the blond eventually turned and winked straight at him through the window.

Damnit!

His face must have turned red because Abronsius asked him what was wrong, and he quickly made up some excuse about the heat before going back into the kitchen.

"You know," Sarah - the newest pastry chef - whispered, "their food's really good, and the sign dancer guy is single~" she teased.

Alfred felt his face pucker like he'd eaten a lemon.

Yes, the man was attractive, but from what Abronsius had said, they were all bad sorts there. But… well… whatever. Whatever. He had soups to make.

---

Three nights later. They were back. He had the evening off. Fuck. He was pissed. Abronsius had denied him a raise again. He shouldn't have been surprised, but if always stung when he was educated on exactly why he wasn't worth an extra two dollars an hour.

He knew he was young, sure, but he wasn't stupid or incompetent, he didn't have wrong priorities. He wasn't any of the things that stodgy old bastard said. And all he had wanted was two (2) more dollars. It wouldn't have even made him the highest paid (even discounting the profits he knew the old asshole was keeping).

So he wanted to make the man upset. As the sounds of Tchaikovsky drifted towards him, he couldn't help smirking. He hoped Abronsius was watching. Hoped Abronsius saw him ordering off the competition's menu, and he fully planned on eating right outside the restaurant, in full view from the large glass windows.

"Well hello there, finally come to see what all the fuss is about?"

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard anyone approaching, but there he was: the sign guy. Blond haired, pale skinned, and just, umf, fucking beautiful.

Alfred felt his heart rate increase just from the sheer proximity.

"I-I-I, uhm, yeah. Uh, m-mostly, well, I, uh, wanted to p-piss off my boss."

Real smooth, dipshit!

Sarah was right. He was hopeless.

The guy grinned and, of all things, kissed his hand.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I thought I might have to venture into that tacky place to properly say hello."

Alfred honestly didn't disagree. The restaurant was called Knoblauch, which just meant "garlic" and the interior was kind of gaudy. Not that he would have ever dared say so.

"I, uh- wait. You wanted to see me?"

"Every day since I first spotted your adorable pout, yes."

It was effortless the way this guy flirted and Alfred was just getting more and more shy.

"I'm… um… that's sweet. Thanks."

"So did Sarah get you to take a look? She's been very chatty about you, you know."

Ah fuck.

"I, uh, I mean, maybe I guess, but, uh-"

"She says you're a single hopeless romantic, and I really hope she's right," the man interrupted, and whoops, there went Alfred's ability to speak anything but flustered gibberish entirely.

The man leaned down and grinned.

"My name's Herbert von Krolock. What's yours?"

Oh, Alfred knew this man knew, but he couldn't help answering anyway, stuttering it out.

Herbert grinned. "You're so cute! Do you wanna have dinner with me? Now?"

"U-u-uh, um, I mean, uh, I…. Yes…?"

Herbert took his hands (both of them, like this was some kinda romcom), and led him over to the side of the food truck, music playing louder there, and the magnificent frescoes truly visible. They were gothic scenes, dark balls. Alfred couldn't help liking them, for whatever reason.

Then another beautiful man appeared, pale and salt-and-pepper tied in a neat bun.

"Oh, the boy finally came. What shall we have tonight?"

Herbert smiled and nudged Alfred, who realized in a panic he had no idea what kind of food they even sold. The man seemed to take pity on him, luckily.

"Let's start you with a sampler, then. I know it's a wide variety… I'm glad you stopped by. Sarah speaks highly of you," he added with a small smile.

If he survived this Sarah was getting the bougiest fucking brunch ever.

Hebert led him to a small table over to the side to wait.

"You know, Graf is head over heels for her, but he's afraid his age will put her off," the blond murmured conspiratorially.

Alfred couldn't help snorting softly.

"She has a thing for older guys, actually. He should go for it."

Herbert grinned brightly. "I'll try to let him know that…"

Alfred couldn't help smiling. Was it something in the air? Who knew? He just… was having the best night he'd had in a long time.

The food was ready and Herbert got it, stopping only briefly to greet visitors. Alfred was a little surprised, since he always seemed so sociable before, inviting people in.

"What's the look for, hmm?"

Alfred was startled again by the quietness of Herbert's steps.

"O-oh! Nothing, really. Just… you always seem so chatty when…"

"When you spy on me from your little restaurant? I am. But tonight I'm on a date with a very cute guy, and he gets all my attention."

Alfred once again lost all coherence, nibbling at a strawberry to hide his sheepishness.

Herbert just chuckled, and began telling him about the food truck.

Graf (the owner, Mr. Sexy Older Guy) had taught himself to cook after dealing with a very hard childhood, and one day he decided he would take his knowledge out and feed others. He quickly became popular as a caterer at parties, the rich-people kind, like masquerade balls and that kinda thing.

He still did them sometimes. But his true love lay in cooking for the masses, it seemed, out on the street, in parks, at games. He decided to take the Balls and Parties with him.

"That's… really cool," Alfred admitted.

"Yeah? I think so. But we might have to give it up… he's thinking of doing a world tour in his golden years," Herbert began with a wry smirk, "as though he ever plans on retiring… but he wants an apprentice. I'm no good at anything except cold foods and people-pleasing…"

Alfred sighed and shook his head. Just his luck. He found a new favourite place and they were closing.

"I mean, you seem pretty good at what you do…" Herbert added suggestively.

"Wait, wait, what? Me?"

"Yeah. You. You're not the only one that spies from time to time. You seem really passionate about food. And fast. And competent in general."

Everything that Abronsius berated him for not being.

"I… is this all just a ploy? To poach from the competition?" He asked, stiffening. It was one thing to be all flirty and friendly, an entirely other thing to-

"What? No. Of course not! I'm not so shallow I'd do that."

Herbert looked genuinely hurt and offended. Fuck.

"I… I… I'm sorry it's just… I'm pretty often reminded that I'm a young, stupid know-nothing that'll never make it on my own and all…" Alfred muttered bitterly.

"That old hack doesn't know what he's talking about."

Graf's voice came from nowhere, and you know what? Alfred could live in a state of permanent heart-attacks. That was fine.

"What? You know him?"

"That pompous blowhard is the reason I never went to culinary school. Way back when, he made everyone's life hell because it had to be his way or nothing, because he knew how to cook 'properly' and we knew nothing."

"....so I take it he hasn't changed much."

"Nope. Almost ruined food for me. I decided I'd never go through anything that would turn me into a rude monster like that."

"Well, I'm quitting tomorrow, so I don't blame you."

Graf chuckled. "Why bother with that courtesy? Just come work for me. Rub it in his face. Bring the girl too. Take his two best kids from him."

Yeah. That… that sounded good.

"You know what? I think I will. If you'll excuse me, I have a call to make."

He walked over to the other side of the truck, a little ways away, where he could look in and see the kitchen. And there was Sarah, flinching at something the old bastard was saying.

He called her number.

He almost couldn't believe it when she picked up.

"Look outside," he directed. She did, and gave him a wave and a bright smile.

"How do you like it?!”

"So much I'm gonna work here. I quit. You should too. They asked for you by name."

"Say no more."

She hung up, and without further ado completely stripped off her uniform, leaving her in a sports bra and leggings (cause let's be real it got fucking hot in that kitchen sometimes), and she just sauntered on out.

Herbert started laughing, and Alfred turned just in time to see the look on Graf's face as his dulcet darling was strutting over.

"So, you want to give a recently unemployed girl a job?" She asked with a bright smile.

Alfred was glad he wasn't the only one who sometimes forgot how to speak.

Herbert took over, and the pair quickly bantered a deal, and Alfred just took a minute to watch.

They looked good, all together like that. Almost like a family.

Of course, then Herbert glanced up at him, and gave him another of those heart-stopping winks.

Well.

Carpe noctem and all that.

[captaindaddykru]

☆for emily☆

today it’s @keiraknighted‘s birthday. i wanted to finish this before today, but everything is flaming garbage, so a preview will have to do. no, i will no be giving out more details. happy birthday to my musical soulmate, the kinkiest queen of them all, em. my ol’ cobber. my favorite drongo. quite the spunk you are. you’re a classic. and you live in the worst possible timezone imaginable. here’s some best friends, pining, sexy, below <10k hopefully. also, sorry for the ugly temporary moodboard???? i was getting desperate at this point and am no grapic designer. i just needed something to distract from what you’re about to read. cheers!

So, by the time their holiday break rolls around, Clarke isn’t only sexually frustrated, she’s also kind of desperate. Which only intensifies when a few days before they’re all flying back to their hometown, Wells casually lets it drop he’s now in a relationship with a girl from his old chess club and things are ‘heating up fast’, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. She’s just more aware than ever she’s running out of time. 

Clarke doesn’t even know why it’s such a big deal to her. Maybe it’s her competitive streak coming into play, or the fact she really just wants to get the whole awkward virginity thing over with, maybe it’s the dark inexplicable pang in the middle of her chest whenever she sees the constant rotation of girls on Bellamy’s Instagram and Snapchat. She figures it’s a healthy amount of jealousy, courtesy of their very codependent ways, sharing everything with each other since childhood. They’re all apart for the first time in a decade, going their own ways, perhaps even growing apart. 

She doesn’t think about why Wells’ honest to God girlfriend doesn’t bother her as much when in reality that should make her feel even worse. A girlfriend could screw with their dynamic, a bunch of one night stands rationally speaking won’t. It could be that she knows Wells too well to know there’s still a very big chance he won’t go through with it, that he’ll let the girl down easy before Christmas even rolls around. 

But. Then she finds herself thinking of his jacket covering her shivering body, drenched from the rain, her left arm throbbing with pain, his hand wrapped around hers as he told her it was all going to be okay. She thinks of that time he left Gina’s birthday party early to come pick her up at a friend’s house after almost having a panic attack, the nights he spent sleeping in her bed after her father died, how he never once complained about getting her coffee from the drive through that was more than his hard limit of three dollars, and that one throw-away moment at the end of summer. That goodbye hug that lasted just a little too long, his arms tight around her waist, the intense look mirrored in both of their eyes as they pulled apart, the way she was afraid to say anything in case her voice gave out, before she got into her mom’s car and watched him and Wells disappear in the rearview mirror. 

It’s hard to explain, even to herself. It’s why she never thinks about it for too long. 

Which all brings her to tonight. A new year’s party at the house of someone who went to the same high school as them, that has all the charms of a bad hang-over in the making — terrible beer, music that’s mostly EDM and completely shit-faced people plastered across every surface.

She hasn’t seen Wells since his father’s Christmas party. Clarke finally met Luna there in person. She’s beautiful, easily talked to her about the non-profit she’s interning at for half an hour and had nothing but love in her eyes whenever she looked at Wells. He’s with her at her parents’ ski cabin right now, and from the way Bellamy was clapping his shoulder before he left early in the morning, Clarke figures he’s probably losing his v-card to her there which means that she’ll be the only one out of the three of them not to complete the pact. There’s no way she’s finding someone before midnight that she’d both feel comfortable with taking hers, and is even willing to do so in the first place. 

To make matters worse, Bellamy has totally ditched her to play beer pong with Bree, which she isn’t even sure isn’t code for hooking up in the coat closet. He knows she hates parties, especially when she doesn’t know anyone else there, and that she’s horrific at first impressions. She’s forced to make small-talk with Murphy, the loser who still hangs around their high school parking lot and she used to share one Culinary Arts class with before he got suspended. 

All of it combined has put her in a sour mood. And a drinking mood, but since all there is fucking shitty beer that might as well be toilet water she can’t even get drunk, so that just makes her even more unreasonably upset at nothing in particular. Maybe at the fact she’s so high strung and obsessed with controlling every little detail, that she didn’t just get it over with back on campus with some frat boy she never had to see again after, or that Wells and Bellamy managed to make it happen without even trying. It’s probably because she’s trying way too hard, people can probably tell.

It’s not fair that both of them beat her to it. Clarke wants to just be done with already, too. She wants to get it over with so she can get to the good, non first time stuff like them. She wants to be flirting with boys and girls at parties, or ask for someone’s number at a coffee shop without having to worry about having to explain it’s her first time doing any of it when they eventually invite her over to their room. She wants to be free and nonchalant and spontaneous, not constantly weighed down by the fact that she’s a virgin. It’s not like she’s asking for much. 

Half an hour to midnight, she pushes her way outside to the porch for some fresh air. It’s there where Bellamy finally bothers to leave Bree and her attention-seeking ways behind and come find her. 

“What’s up with you?” He asks, half a chuckle in his voice as he leans his forearms on the railing, mirroring her. 

Clarke grits her teeth together, then slowly exhales through her nose. She keeps her eyes on the tree swing in the distance, swaying softly because of the wind. “Nothing.”

He elbows her playfully, although his tone is serious. Of course he sees right through her. “Come on. Don’t give me that.”

She just grumbles something indecipherable, pushing back her hair from her face with one hand. She still doesn’t look at him, scared she might give anything more away. From inside, there’s the muffled beat of a hiphop song playing joined by the distanced tumult of college kids getting drunk and having fun. Except for the couple making out on the other end of the porch and one stoner sprawled over the grass smoking and staring at the sky, they’re alone. 

“I’m sorry about leaving you for Bree—” Bellamy starts, straightening back to his full height, and before she knows it, a flare of anger rises within her, burning white hot. She doesn’t recognize the feeling, but gets too lost in it to analyze it for very long.

Her head snaps to the side to glare at him, fingers tightening around the railing until her knuckles turn a pale white. “It’s not about Bree and her pathetic fuck-me eyes.”

“Okay,” he replies, sounding a bit too amused for her liking. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes his biceps bulge in a way that’s completely unfair when she’s been perpetually turned on since Halloween, and it sends a surge of want pulsing from her core. “Then what’s it about, princess?”

Has his voice always been so deep? She hesitates, not sure she even wants to share this with him. He might be her best friend, but it’s embarrassing on a level she can’t even try and start to describe. “I’m annoyed, okay?” She bites, heated, which immediately makes her feel guilty. It’s not his fault nobody wants her. “I expected that I’d at least beat Wells to it. And since it’s all I can think about all the time now, I’m constantly horny.” A blush forms on her cheeks, down her neck and all over her collarbone, but she refuses to let that or the way his eyes widen slightly stop her. It’s only awkward if she lets it be. “I just feel so stupid. I mean, I had five months to get it over with like both of you, and here we are. What the hell is wrong with me?”

A tense silence wraps around them for a moment, Clarke’s heart pounding loudly in her chest as panic claws up her throat. She’s such a fucking idiot. She shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. She’s sure neither of them would’ve actually held it against her if she didn’t lose her virginity before new year’s, they’re better than that. She knows they are. Clarke is just so — frustrated.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and she finds herself entranced with the movement. “I didn’t know you were so upset about it,” he starts, tentatively. Her blue eyes snap up to meet his, a smirk breaking across his face. He’s teasing her, the asshole, when he says, “I mean, if you’re that desperate, I’ll do it.”

Her eyes narrow, finally pushing off the railing. A gust of wind greets her body, bristling her hair and making tiny goosebumps appear over her arms. She’s seconds away from angry tears, she can tell. “Don’t make it sound like it’s such a fucking chore.”

Bellamy just kind of stares at her dumbly, his whole body grown tense, making her even more furious. Did he lose his tongue all of a sudden? He’s never had a problem sharing his opinions on her, no matter how negative, before. “What?” She snaps, roughly brushing  a strand of hair behind her ear before tucking her hands back underneath her opposite armpits.  

“It wouldn’t be a chore, Clarke,” he corrects her, his eyes still slightly widened as if alarmed by the sound of himself speaking. He swallows visibly, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down in the low glow of the Christmas lights draped across the ceiling of the porch. Bellamy lifts one of his shoulders, casual, even if the movement is stiffer than it usually would be. “I just — I didn’t realize I was an option.”

Her heart trips over itself as silence stretches between them for a moment. She wants to ask him a million questions, but the best thing she can come up with is, “So you were serious?” Clarke raises her eyebrows, trying to figure out if he was just being nice, taking pity on her or if it was something much more dangerous than that. “You’ll do it?”

His jaw clenches briefly, his nostrils flaring. Another second, and he asks, rough, “Do you want me to do it?”

She considers it. This is Bellamy, her best friend. He can always make her laugh, and there’s no one else she feels as much at ease with, and he’s definitely attractive, even she has noticed as much. She likes his stubborn curls, his smile when someone catches him off guard, the sharp line of his jaw. And at the very least he would know what he’s doing. She trusts him. “Yes.”

Now that she’s aware it’s a possibility, she refuses to want anything else. It’d be kind of perfect, actually.

He clears his throat, blinking hard as he tears his eyes off her for a second, scrubbing his face with one of his hands. It’s very big, and Clarke finds herself wondering for the first time if it means the rest of him is big as well. Bellamy sniffs when his dark eyes land back on her. “Have you been drinking?”

“Just half a beer,” she answers, maybe a bit too eager, her hands dropping at her sides after smoothing down the bottom of her glittery top. She doesn’t want to give him enough time to talk himself out of it. “And I think someone diluted it with water so it barely counts.”

He nods, once, then nudges his head to the side. “Want to get out of here?”

Taking one more look around the porch, Clarke worries her bottom lip pensively, shooting him an apologetic look. “My parents are having friends over, so my house is definitely not an option.” 

Besides, she doesn’t want to risk them finding out and making it weird. Especially not if the consequence is going to be an open door policy whenever he or Wells are over. Nothing has to change after tonight.

“Thelonious is out,” he offers, then flinches when he seems to remember something else. “But Octavia might show up with her friends.”

Clarke nods, giving him another long searching look before she makes up her mind. It’ll be fine. This is Bellamy. She’s a pro at compartmentalizing and he’s sleeping with a different girl like every other night. It can just be sex. “Upstairs then?”

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

"Don't Look at Me, I'm Sick!"

Author's Note:

So, I know no one will believe me but I've been working at this for a month 😂 I swear my intention was not at all COVID-19 related, but rather from a random prompt I found online somewhere! The prompt is bolded. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: Y/N has the flu, and who better to save her than a friendly, neighborhood Spiderman?

Warnings: None? I guess descriptions of the flu if that counts!

Word Count: 4,068, because I have no self-control 😂

A painful, chest heaving cough racked through my body, leaving my stomach muscles feeling sore and my chest burning. I flopped back into my cocoon of pillows and blankets with a sigh. Nothing like a bad case of the flu to remind me of just how hopelessly inadequate my non-existent abs were. 

What had started as a small tickle in the back of my throat yesterday had mutated into a full-blown flu. Not just any flu either. No, this was the 'every symptom you could possibly think of, oh my god am I dying?' kind of flu. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck, and if my mom was any indication, it was a safe bet I looked it too. She’d poked her head in my doorway for a solid 10 seconds before dialing the school attendance line and informing them that I wouldn’t be there. She left for work not long after, shouting at me to keep drinking fluids and to take some Tylenol. Since then I’d been drifting in and out of consciousness all morning, waking only long enough to either cough or sneeze my guts out. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear I had the actual plague. 

My phone had been buzzing on and off all morning, but in my fever-riddled, sleep deprived state, I elected to ignore it in favor of more sleep. The buzzing reached a fever pitch sometime in the mid-morning before it mercifully stopped. I sighed again, flopping over to my stomach and snuggling my sweaty head deeper into my pillow. I huddled the overwhelming number of blankets around my shivering form like a safety net as I idly wondered how far away the medicine cabinet could possibly be. Realistically, it was all of 6 feet away, but just the suggestion of having to move my body was enough to make my muscles feel like mush. I groaned, flopping uselessly around my bed as I internally weighed the pros and cons of getting up to grab some Tylenol. 

I was so wrapped up in my mental battle that I didn't hear the distinct 'thwip!' coming from the fire escape outside my bedroom window. Normally I'd hear the sound no matter how loud the music was in my headphones or how fast asleep I was. I guess it was more of a feeling I got, a low hum of excitement deep in my belly that alerted me than a sound really, but regardless I was completely oblivious at the moment. I also missed the practiced, rhythmic taps on my window due to the sneezing fit that overtook me and the subsequent rush to rummage around my sheets for any non-crumpled tissues. 

"Y/N?!" 

A slightly panicked voice was the sound that finally broke me out of my illness induced haze. I yelped loudly and, reacting out of pure instinct, flung the first thing within reach at the intruder. Unfortunately for me the closest thing to me was a near-empty box of tissues, and based on the lack of thump that followed I don't think it even hit my intended target. It was hard to say for sure though because immediately after my feeble attack I dove deeper into my cocoon, covering myself completely with the mountain of blankets. 

“What the FUCK!” I exclaimed. Though I wish that my voice sounded strong and threatening, the shock rippling through me coupled with the way my nasal passages were currently blocked and the muffling effect of the blankets covering my face made my fierce roar sound more like a surprised squeak. 

"Whoa whoa whoa!" the voice placated quickly. "Y/N, it's just me!"

The familiar tenor tones of my intruder began to seep into my sick brain like a cloud of smoke. I frowned unconsciously as my mind worked in overtime to try and place the voice with a face. I winced for a moment, the sudden onset of thought enough to send a stabbing pain shooting behind my eyes and leave a throbbing, dull ache in its wake. My brain whirred on for an embarrassing amount of time before the recognition hit me like a truck. 

"Peter?" I questioned humbly, peeking my eyes out from the blankets just enough to see. I blinked quickly and fought against the dizzying pain that overtook my brain against the onslaught of light. 

Standing over near my opened bedroom window was my adorable, if sheepish looking, boyfriend. His face was wrought with a look of pure anxiety --  big brown eyes practically swimming with worry and normally sweet features all contorted downward. The messy brown curls I loved were stuck tight to his sweaty forehead, and he clutched his Spidey mask tightly in his right fist. He wasn't wearing his suit, so he must've thrown on only the mask before making his way over. Even in my post-panic/flu-induced fog I felt a touch of irritation at his recklessness. 

"It's just me, sorry," he apologized breathlessly with one hand still outstretched appeasingly towards me. "I just...you weren't at school and you weren't answering your phone and I got worried."

Guilt flooded my already-churning stomach at his gentle admission. That explained the incessant buzzing of my phone this morning. Of course Peter was worried, the boy literally could not stop worrying over everything. And to be fair, he had much more reason to than most. I silently cursed myself for forgetting to text him and tell him I wouldn’t be at school. I opened my mouth to apologize just as another realization filtered into my brain. 

I screeched. 

Not a normal screech either. This was a gross, nasal-sounding cry of sheer terror that I could tell made Peter flinch from all the way across the room. I dove even more quickly into the mountain of blankets and pillows than I had back when I was pretty sure I was going to be murdered. 

“What?! Y/N what’s wrong?” Peter exclaimed, clearly still a bit panicked over everything. I couldn’t hear him walking over, but I felt my bed dip under his weight as he near-instantly was at the edge of the mattress. The blankets shifted and I could tell he was attempting to pull back one of the many covers that I’d engulfed myself in. I huffed, twisting my body deeper into the tangle of sheets and rolled so away from my poor boyfriend that I almost fell off the bed entirely. 

“Y/N?” Peter questioned, tone laced with concern and confusion. 

“Don’t look at me!” I shouted. Or as close to shouting as I could muster through the scratchy, dry rasp that was my voice currently. “I'm sick!" 

There was a long pause before Peter's sweet chuckle sounded outside the confines of my cocoon. 

"Yeah I kinda figured that out," he laughed. I couldn't see his face, for obvious reasons, but I even so I could tell it held his wide, genuine smile. As if to punctuate my point further, another dizzying coughing spell came over me and bent over as I proceeded to cough all but my actual guts out. 

"Oh, Y/N/N," Peter murmured sympathetically. I felt his hands rest on the blanket again as if he were going to pull it away and I jerked away from the contact once again. "Hey? Why are you hiding?"

"Because I'm sick," I grumbled defensively. "I don't want you to see me like this!"

Peter clicked his tongue in disbelief. 

"Come on," he whined. "You know I couldn't care less about that!"

He could try all he wanted, but there was no way I was going to face him at the moment. I hadn't taken a good look at myself yet today, but I was certain I looked like a half-dead pile of garbage. I could feel the way my hair was matted and knotted from all the tossing and turning, my nose felt like it was on fire from all the snot pouring out of it, there was a dry spot on my chin that I was certain was leftover drool, and to top it all off I could practically feel the crushing weight of the bags from under my eyes. I crossed my arms petulantly from the confines of my blankets, not caring that he couldn't see my small act of stubbornness. 

I heard Peter sigh from his place beside me, and the weight on the bed shifted until I could feel him sitting right next to me. 

"Y/N, you know that I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever met, right?" he questioned softly from beside me. My face flushed wildly at the implication, although I don't think he would've been able to tell even if he could see my face due to the raging fever I was sure to have. Butterflies silently began to flutter in my tummy. I hummed in nonchalant agreement, unable to trust my voice at the moment. 

"Well you are. You're the prettiest, funniest, smartest, cutest, and most stubborn girl I know", he replied firmly, putting unnecessary emphasis on the last bit. "And seeing you when you're sick isn't going to change any of that."

I grumbled lowly, silently feeling my resolve weaken but unwilling to concede just yet. Peter evidently took my silence to mean he was getting through to me and began talking once more. 

"I was really worried you know?" he continued casually. "When you weren't at school today, I mean. I thought something bad might've happened..."

The same feeling of guilt from earlier came crawling back to me and began to weigh heavily within my already sore chest at his admission. His voice sounded like he was desperately trying to sound unaffected, but I could hear the remnants of the fear and panic he'd felt this morning. The guilt intensified and ran it's way up my body and rested into my eyes and throat, burning them with unshed tears begging to be let out. 

I cautiously peeked out from the blankets, still covering everything but my eyes from Peter's vision. He smiled at the small victory -- that perfectly crooked and adorable smile that never failed to make my heart melt and my knees feel weak. I smiled back, although it quickly drooped into a frown when I realized he couldn't see it. 

"I won't stay if you don't want me to," he stated plainly while looking down at his lap. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I want nothing more than to be here with you and take care of you -- actually that's not true I just want you to feel better, regardless-- but what I mean is I won't if you don't want me to."

I giggled lightly at his near-incoherent babbling, causing his eyes to snap back up to my blanket-covered face and his face to break out into another one of those smiles I loved so much. I sighed indecisively. 

"You're sure you're not going to, like, freak out, right?" I questioned cautiously. Peter shook his head quickly, brown curls flying wildly around his face. 

"Positive." he affirmed. 

"And you swear that you aren't going to, like, take off running? Or, more likely, swinging?" I clarified. I was being purposely exaggerative, but underneath my sarcastic facade there was a part of me that was very much scared. Scared that Peter, the absolute best guy I knew and the person I relied most heavily on, would be disgusted with my illness-riddled self. Peter frowned, a look of genuine distress overtaking his features. 

"I would never." he vowed incredulously. I searched his handsome face silently as I contemplated. 

Finally, after several long moments of deliberation, I sighed in defeat and slowly pulled the blankets away from the rest of my face. Peter just looked on encouragingly as my dramatic ass took its time, a tiny proud smile playing on his lips. 

"There's my pretty girl," he cooed soothingly as I finally detangled my upper body out of the mass of bedding. I shot him a look of pure annoyance which only seemed to fuel his glee further. He chuckled lightly, pulling my overheated and yet somehow still shivering form to his chest. I willingly allowed him to pull me into the comfort of his embrace, suddenly feeling too tired and weak to protest further. 

Peter's arms were my favorite place to be. Hands down. I'd discovered long ago that his chest provided the perfect pillow: it was soft, yet firm, warm, but not too hot, and smelled like the perfect mixture of his body wash, laundry detergent, and his natural scent. Also not to be taken for granted was the way his strong arms instantly wound around me whenever we cuddled. Being in his arms never failed to make me feel safe and protected. I sighed contently, rubbing my tired and throbbing head deeper into his embrace. He rubbed small circles into my aching back, voice crooning in my ears with unintelligible words of affection. 

"Still the prettiest girl I know," he declared fondly. I lifted my head just enough to look at his face, a display of near-herculean effort on my part, and shot him the most incredulous look I could muster. 

"You're a dork," I grumbled lightly, tucking my fever-and-blush tinged red cheeks back into the comfort of his chest. I felt my makeshift pillow vibrate as a chuckle followed. 

"Yeah. But I'm your dork," he replied cheekily. I hummed in agreement, too tired to argue back.

 I dropped my head further into my own chest as I was unexpectedly hit with another wave of uncontrolled hacking. I could feel Peter's arms rubbing against my back as I did, and after all was said and done I winced at the rush of pain through my head, throat, and lungs. He tsked sympathetically before asking when the last time I took any pain meds was. Unable to find my voice I simply shook my head stubbornly. 

I grumbled incoherently as Peter gently removed me from his arms, unhappy at the loss of contact. He chuckled once more before promising to return quickly as he strode out of my bedroom door. I groaned childishly before my body decided that now would be an awesome time to make me sneeze any and all phlegm that had built up in my nasal passageways. 

I sneezed violently for what felt like hours -- by the end tears were streaming down my face and there weren't enough balled up tissues in my vicinity to stop the flow of snot running from my poor, sore nose. I plopped back onto the pillows, completely worn out and miserable. 

Almost like he could sense my discomfort (and I'm sure if anyone could, it was him) Peter rushed back into my room, arms full. He placed a litany of items unceremoniously onto my comforter before silently handing me a glass of water and a few pills. 

I gratefully accepted, sitting up slightly to take them. The cool water against my burning, scratchy throat felt simultaneously painful and relieving at once. Peter smiled encouragingly, taking the half empty glass back and placing it on my nightstand. Next he pulled out a damp washcloth and motioned for me to lean back once more. Curiosity overtaking me, I complied. 

Ever the sweetest boy I knew, Peter began lightly wiping my overheated face with the cool cloth. I let out a moan of appreciation that I was certain was going to embarrass me later if Peter's reddened cheeks were any indication. Currently, however, I couldn't have cared less if I tried. The cooling feeling spreading across my sweaty, fever ravaged skin was almost hypnotic. I closed my eyes and leaned into the cloth as he methodically maneuvered it around my face.

"S-sorry if it's too cold," Peter's nervous voice interrupted my near-trance. I opened my eyes to see his adorable face very close to mine, expression full of concern. "I can stop now,"

"Why though?" I whined. "I was enjoying that!"

Peter's face turned bright red once more, face turning downwards briefly to hide his wide smile. 

"I'm glad," he replied bashfully. "But you're kind of starting to really shiver, so I think we should stop for now,"

He tossed the rag expertly across the room, landing it neatly on the back of my chair without even really looking. I rolled my eyes. 

"Show-off."  

He just grinned. 

“Okay, I also brought you more tissues, some cough drops, some cold medicine, your laptop, some new blankets...”. 

Peter’s voice changed completely, dropping down to a more serious tone as he waved his hands over each item as he explained. I felt tears start to collect in my eyes, wholly touched at the sheer sweetness of his thoughtfulness. I was trying to come up with a response as the tears began to drop down my face in big, fat droplets when Peter took note of my emotional state. His eyes went wide with worry -- he instantly shuffled closer to me and wrapped scooped me up, blankets and all. His arms wound around my body tightly as he placed me on his lap and his cheek rested lightly against the crown of my head.

"Hey, hey," he soothed quietly. "You're okay, I'm here. What hurts sweet girl?"

I chuckled breathlessly at his response, thoroughly enamored with his protective concern for my well-being. 

"I'm okay Petey, nothing hurts," I mumbled quickly. The throbbing of my head and ache in my chest immediately flared at my words, clearly enraged to have been downplayed like that. I grimaced. 

"Okay that's a lie -- everything hurts," I amended begrudgingly. "But that's not why I'm crying."

He pulled his head back just enough to look me in the eyes, expression riddled with confusion. 

“I just -- you’re so --,” I struggled to put the way I was feeling into words. Peter waited patiently, concern-filled eyes never leaving my face. 

“I just love you,” I murmured finally, looking deeply into Peter’s eyes. “Like, a lot.” 

His face softened immediately and his cheeks filled with the gorgeous pink blush that I adored as he gazed lovingly down at me. I felt time stop, the way it always seemed to when he looked at me like that. I held my breath, captivated by the proximity of my very handsome boyfriend and the feeling of his arms wound so tightly around me. 

“I love you too,” he whispered softly, face bowing down towards my own until I could feel his breath fanning against my lips. I felt my brain short-circuit for the millionth time this morning, though this time it wasn’t fever-related. Peter’s face drifted closer and closer to my lips at what seemed like a glacial pace. Just as our lips were about to connect, a thought ran through my mind, clear as a bell, and I jerked backwards so suddenly I fell off Peter’s lap and into a heap on the floor. 

“Oh my god! Y/N, are you okay?!”

Peter hurriedly picked me up and placed me gingerly back on my bed. I chuckled breathlessly, still a little dazed from the close encounter. 

“What the hell was that?” he questioned incredulously. 

“You can’t kiss me! You’ll get sick!”

Peter looked stunned. 

“You -- you’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, body flopping backwards onto my bed momentarily before he sat back up and looked me straight in the face. “You’re joking, right?”

I crossed my arms stubbornly against my chest and stared defiently at him. He studied my expression for a beat before he sighed and flopped onto his back once more. I giggled at his frustration, and he sat up once more to shoot me an exasperated look. Then, his eyes lit up with a mischievous look and he grinned at me. 

“You know, I haven’t been sick once since I got bit,” he mentioned nonchalantly. I raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. “I don’t even think I can get sick anymore honestly.”

“Nice try Spiderling,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not chancing it. Queens needs you.”

“Yeah but I need you,” he whined. “I can’t go a whole day without affection, I’ll die!”

I snorted. 

“Nice try Tinkerbell,” I chuckled. Peter’s pout deepened. “Aww, don’t do that. You know it’s for your own good!” 

Peter stuck out his bottom lip childishly. 

“Alright, alright, you win,” he grumbled. “But cuddles are non-negotiable! I will literally die without them.”

I smiled widely at his response, scooching up to the head of the bed with him and allowing him to pull me into his chest once more. He fiddled with my laptop for a few moments and not long after I was drifting off on his shoulder as our favorite movie played. One of his hands was splayed across my back, trapping me against him (as if I’d ever want to move) and the other was tangled in the messy hair against my head. I was fading, falling into sleep steadily. 

“Mmmmm Petey,” I breathed softly. “Love you.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I felt him smile against my hair. 

“I love you too sweet girl,” he whispered. I raised my head tentatively, eyes closed and lips searching his cheeks for their favorite spot. I felt Peter’s breath hitch, and his face dip down towards mine just slightly. “Thought you were worried about getting me sick.”

I set my mouth in a pout. 

“But you said you can’t get sick, right?” I mumbled hopefully. Peter chuckled, the vibrations from his chest tickling my cheek.

"Thought you weren't gonna chance it?" he questioned breathlessly. "Q-queens needs me."

"I need you," I whined. He chuckled again, the deep timbre sending shivers down my spine. 

"Well, I can't let you down now can I?" he whispered playfully before finally connecting his thin lips to mine. 

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

The rest of my illness went by like an insane fever dream. Peter stuck by my side like glue the entire time, taking care of me like the sweet boy he is and spending the majority of the time entangled with me on my bed as we watched wayyy too much Netflix. The times he left were brief -- just long enough to convince my mom and his aunt that he was still sleeping back at his apartment. 

I was finally back in school, feeling refreshed and eager to be out in the world once more. I walked over to Peter's locker, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek and waving hello to MJ and Ned. His ears and cheeks flushed pink at the display and I grinned with pride. Ned just smiled while MJ rolled her eyes fondly. 

"Someone's glad to be back," she quipped dryly. I laughed, carding my fingers through Peter's as we all began to walk down the hall. 

"I actually am," I replied cheerily. "I'm as surprised as you are."

As we walked Ned began filling me in on everything I'd missed while I was out. I listened to him chat excitedly about Flash's new car and the change in the Decathalon team's lineup with amusement, wholly happy to be back to my normal routine. My mood was broken suddenly as I felt the fine hairs on the back of Peter's arm stand straight up from the spot where our arms brushed together. I looked up at him anxiously, wondering what could be lurking in our midst that sent his senses off.

Peter looked as baffled as I did. His eyes scanned the halls furiously, searching for the source of the danger. The two of us slowed to a complete stop in the middle of the hall. 

Ever perceptive, MJ eyed Peter and I suspiciously before bluntly asking what was wrong. Ned turned and looked on curiously after he finally noticed that no one was following him anymore. I glanced at Peter, unsure of what to say. He cleared his throat nervously.

"I dunno, I just got this really weird--"

He started to explain, but part way in he paused and let out the biggest sneeze I'd ever heard. And that's coming from a girl that just spent the last 4 days coughing and sneezing like it was her job. MJ and Ned chuckled knowingly as Peter just stared at me, utterly bewildered. I couldn't help but giggle at the incredulous look on his face before smiling sheepishly at my poor boyfriend.

"I did warn you!"

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Heathers | Sweet Pea

A/N: Last part! I hope you guys enjoyed this and that it’s all you hoped for. I think Riverdale ruined the musical for a lot of people. I mean, I didn’t even know about Heathers until the episode of Riverdale and back then I was like ‘WTF is this???’ but then I started watching Carrie Hope Fletcher’s vlogs about her being Veronica in Heathers and I decided to give the album a listen and it’s SO GOOD? Like I’m offically obsessed with it. I’m just sad you can’t watch a good quality video of either the off-Broadway version or the West End version. Not gonna lie, I did watch part of the shitty quality bootleg on YouTube, but it’s just not quite the same is it?  Anyway, hope you enjoy this last part!  Also, GIF has nothing to do with this part, I just love Christian Slater as JD and this is one of my fav quotes for some reason, along with “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling”. 

Act one - Act two - Act three - Act four - Act five - Act six

Words: 4002

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Warnings: panic attack, cursing, sexually tinted scenes 

Act six: Seventeen 

I was right not entirely trusting ‘Stoner chick’ and ‘Preppy kid’. The next day, I get a text from Margot, telling me to meet them at Pop’s before school. I’m not entirely sure what to think of it until I enter the diner and find Margot and Ella in a booth with Sweet Pea. A bunch of nerves sets in my stomach. I feel like I’m going to hurl. So, before they can even see me, I run into the restrooms. There, I try to calm myself down. My hands grip at the cold sink until my knuckles turn white. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I’d never seen my eyes as dark as they are now. “You can do this,” I tell myself, “You’re Veronica Sawyer for Christ’s sake.” One talk with a boy will not change anything. I’ve been able to have a steamy scene with him and kiss him multiple times on stage, why can’t I just do this one thing? This doesn’t make any sense. I’m not making any sense. After heaving in a deep breath, I gather all my courage and walk back into the diner. “Hey, guys,” I greet, trying to play off the fact that I’d just had a mental breakdown in the restroom. All three of them look up at me. My friends get this wide, bright smile on their faces while Sweet Pea’s lips curl up into a more tender smile. A very cute smile, I might add. “Hey, Y/N!” Ella exclaims overexcitedly. “Join us!” She points at the seat next to Sweet Pea, and without asking anything else, I slide in next to him. Then Margot claps in her hands while Ella places hers on the table as if she’s getting up. “We’ve got to motor though. So…” Margot trails off suggestively. “Have fun!” and without getting another word in, both my friends have dashed off and out of the diner. I stare at their empty seats for a moment before turning to the tall guy next to me. “What a terrible set-up,” I say to him, chuckling. Then my eyes widen when I realize how bad that sounds. “Not that the company’s terrible, just the way they did it was terrible. You’re cool,” I ramble, then sigh when I finally shut up. Sweet Pea sniggers beside me, and when I look up at him, he has that same adorable smile on his face he had when I walked in. “I went ahead and ordered you a vanilla milkshake,” he slides the glass of white goodness towards me. “Margot did drink from it already though; hope you don’t mind.” I roll my eyes. Typical Margot. “Nah, it’s fine. We share lots of things,” mental face palm, “Wait, that sounds so wrong.” “Calm down, Y/N,” Sweet Pea says, grabbing my hands, “Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? You’re never this nervous in rehearsals?” A lump forms in my throat and I really have to try hard to swallow it. “Are you okay?” I look into his eyes to try and find calmness again. Then, I heave in another deep breath and begin my ramble. “IjustlikeyoualotSweetPea, but I’m scared it’s going to change the musical completely somehow or you don’t like me back or you think I’m weird or you’re going to distract me from going to drama school or you’re going to break my heart or Reggie’s going to break your face or… Something like that…” I look up again to find him staring intensely at me. “You don’t like me, let’s go for that.” I nod my head and prepare to get up, but Sweet Pea grabs me by my arm and pulls me back down. “I do like you back, Y/N. But you might be right about it changing the musical. And besides, you don’t want to be with me. Being a gang is a dangerous lifestyle and I don’t want to drag you into that.” A relief washes over me. It’s not exactly what I’d hoped for. But at least I know he likes me back. “So, we agree that this just isn’t the right time for us to start something?” I ask, just to be sure. “Yeah, I guess so… Maybe in a few months or years when we bump into one another in a bar in New York or something,” he smiles a happy smile. “You really think I’ll get to New York?” He nods in response, and from there, my complete outburst has been long forgotten and we’re chatting about the future. About my future in Musical Theatre and Sweet Pea’s possible appliance to some community colleges. It’s a relief nothing really changes between us. We’re on the same page about us being a thing. It’s just the wrong place, wrong time. But still, I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kiss him. Thank heavens I get to tomorrow night on stage without any strings attached.  

“Are you ready for the show?” Sweet Pea’s voice makes me jump as he’d walked into the dressing room I shared with the Heathers. The girls had already left, and I was alone until a few seconds ago. Since I got dressed and ready, I started stress-reading and stress-singing all of my lines whilst pacing the room, just to make sure all of the lines were still in my head. Playing Veronica Sawyer was a dream, but there’s so much I need to remember and so much I could possibly forget. “No, I don’t think I know any of my lines, my dress is starting to itch, I’m not sure where I left my diary or the pen or the note I have to give to miss Fleming at the start. When do I go on again? And what are we going to do about Dead Girl Walking because I kind of liked our choreography more than Kevin’s and I—” Before I can even finish the last sentence, I’m shut up by his soft lips pressed to mine. I’m startled at first, but once I realize what happens, I relax a little more. My rapidly beating heart slows down again and air is pushed back into my lungs. “You need to calm down, Y/N. Dress rehearsal last night was more than amazing. You know the script by heart, you are Veronica Sawyer. And if you want, we could still do Dead Girl Walking the way we did it the first time. Fuck Kevin’s comments,” he smiles a little as he holds onto my cheeks to force me to look into his eyes. It only relaxes me more, thankfully. “You’re Veronica Sawyer,” he repeats. “Yeah, it’s going to be fine,” I sigh, nodding my head in agreement. “We start in two minutes!” Kevin’s voice sounds from the hallway. Sweet Pea reaches his hand out for me and I take it. He leads me towards the door and then we go to the wings where all of our other co-stars are. Ella and Margot give me a little smile, knowing how nervous I was, and when they see my hand in Sweet Pea’s, their smile turns into a smirk. So, I let go of his hand and walk up to them to talk a bit before we have to get on. “Break a leg,” Sweet Pea tells me before I have to go on for Beautiful. And then, before I know it, we’re already on Dead Girl Walking. To say I’m nervous about what Sweet Pea’s going to do is an understatement. I sing every line, hit the high notes and belts perfectly, and then I’m already in JD’s room. The nerves are building in the pit of my stomach. But then Sweet Pea’s voice calms me down. “Veronica? What are you doing in my room?” I shush him exaggeratingly. “Sorry but I really had to wake you See, I decided I must ride you 'til I break you 'Cause Heather says I gots to go You're my last meal on death row Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys! Come on!” I strip myself of the blue blazer before continuing to sing. Everything is a complete blur until I’m straddling him and we’re full-on making out. I’m so lost in the kiss that I almost forget I need to sing more. “YEAH! Full steam ahead Take this dead girl walking!” "How'd you find my address?" “Let's break the bed! Rock this dead girl walking!” "I think you tore my mattress!" “No sleep tonight for you Better chug that Mountain Dew!” "Okay, okay" “Get your ass in gear Make this whole town disappear” "Okay, okay!" “Slap me, pull my hair Touch me There and there and there And no more talking!” We do exactly how we did it the first time in rehearsals. The second Sweet Pea tugs at my top to open it, there’s loud uproar in the audience and cheers coming from the wings too. It only charges my confidence to nail those last high notes and belts. “Whoa! Love this dead girl walking!” For the rest of the first half of the show, I don’t trip over any lines and don’t forget any. Having Sweet Pea by my side almost constantly calms my nerves down. And the extreme uproar my top coming undone caused powered my confidence for the rest of the show. The only disadvantage to all of this, is that I realize I want to be with Sweet Pea all the time. And be with him. As in be his, kiss him without it being a scene, hold his hand, hug him. I want to be able to kiss him like he kissed me in the dressing room just moments before the show started. “You did great, Y/N!” Sweet Pea tells me at the start of the interval. “I can’t do this, Noah. Either we have to be together or I don’t want to see you anymore after tonight,” I tell him, and look in his eyes to find an answer. I only see confusion and sadness. Nothing that even indicates he wants the same. “Just, don’t make it harder than it already is,” I say before turning around and getting to my dressing room. “Are you okay?” Betty asks when she sees the tears running down my cheeks. All three of the girls rush towards me when her question just makes me break down more, and they embrace me as if they’re protecting me from something. “He doesn’t want to be with me,” I sob out. One of the girls rubs my back soothingly. “What makes you think that?” Cheryl asks, knowing exactly who I’m talking about. I think everyone knows who I’m talking about. It was probably very obvious what was happening. They probably knew before I did. “That boy is crazy about you.” “I told him I either want to be with him or I don’t ever want to see him again after tonight, and he just stood there with that sheepish smile as if he felt sorry for me,” I manage to bring out between ugly sobs. The girls only wrap their arms tighter around me. “Did he actually say that he felt sorry for you or that he didn’t want to be with you?” Veronica asks me, her voice soft and soothing. “No…” I trail off, “But I mean… It was pretty much written all over his face.” I wipe at my tears, knowing all too well I’ll have to redo my makeup after I’ve stopped sobbing. “I think you ought to talk to him,” Betty says, “Like Cheryl said, the boy’s crazy about you. It would surprise me he’d say something like that.” The blonde girl then cups my cheeks and tilts my head, so I’m looking directly at her. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you’re going to rock the second half of this show as Veronica Sawyer because, girl, there’s no one else who could play her better than you. Then after the show, you go talk to Sweet Pea and become the happy couple you’re supposed to be.” “But he told me before right now is bad timing. We agreed not to date since it was bad timing,” I explain, remembering our conversation at Pop’s. “But you changed your mind, didn’t you?” Cheryl asks, her eyebrows raised in hopes I would catch on. “So, maybe he changed his mind too?” The realization begins to sink in that I might have been a little rash into deciding he doesn’t want the same as me. I should’ve let him talk instead of trying to find the answer in his eyes. “You might be right,” I say and wipe the last tears away, “I’ll talk to him after the show.” I nod my head determinedly and the girls let go of me. “Yeah, you better blow him up first before talking to him,” Veronica jokes, making all of us chuckle a little. This musical is crazy. I knew it was when I saw it off-Broadway and when I saw the 80’s movie a few years ago. But I love it, nonetheless. “Let’s fix this make-up first,” Betty then suggests. Cheryl guides me to the chair in front of my mirror and they begin redoing my make-up for me. We chat about how great the first half of the show was and how much they loved that Sweet Pea and I did what we did in rehearsals during Dead Girl Walking. I bet them and Margot, Ella and Jodi were the ones cheering in the wings. Maybe all of them did, I’m not entirely sure. “Break a leg!” Betty says to me when we’re back in the wings after the interval. Then, Kevin gives us our cue to go on. It’s just me and Sweet Pea now, just before Ram and Kurt’s funeral. “There’s been a lack of girls climbing through my bedroom window lately,” Sweet Pea says after I’d sung a different version of Seventeen, which is a song we still have to sing and to say I’m nervous about it is, yet again, an understatement. “Take a hint,” I reply, clearly upset about the fact we killed Heather Chandler and the two jocks now. “Okay, you’re mad, I get it.” He walks closer to me until he’s in the spot that’s focused on me, mostly. “No, I don’t think you do. “Ich luge” bullets? You lied to me.” “You were lying to yourself, you wanted them dead too.” “Did not!” “Did too!” “Did not!” We’re arguing like little children until Sweet Pea raises his hands in defense. “Hey! Did they make you cry?” he then asks when he’s mere inches away from me. “Yes,” I respond, furrowing my eyebrows. “Can they make you cry now?” he gives me a suggestive look like JD would’ve done. “No, but you can,” and you did – but that has nothing to do with this musical. “Just wait until you see the good that comes of this.” I turn to face the audience, looking over each of the attendants’ heads as to not get distracted by my parents sitting there or the other jocks or anyone else. “No, nothing good could possibly come of this,” I tell him, wagging my finger without looking at him. “Call me an optimist,” he raises his arms sideways. And then I get to say one of my favorite lines from the movie, “Dear diary; my teen-angst bullshit has a body count.” The audience laughs as church music is played through the speakers. Sweet Pea grabs my hand and leads me towards the benches that were placed while the others come onto the stage too for the funeral scene. During this scene, I only have to sing back-up vocals for Dead Gay Son, and it gives me the time to think of some other stuff. Like the lines I’ll have to say after this or what I’m going to say to Sweet Pea when all this is over. Before I know it, the funeral scene is over and it’s Sweet Pea and me all alone again. For a while I go on automatic pilot with my lines until the volume of his voice grows and startles me. “Evil fucks that make life so unbearable that you can’t even stand to live in the world anymore?!” “JD?” He looks at me, and I pause for a moment to think or to pretend to think because I know my line. “How did your mother die?” I then ask. Sweet Pea stares at me for a second, then, in frustration, rubs hand over his chin. “You really want to know?” “Yeah,” I reply because I have to. “My dad said it was an accident. But she knew what she was doing,” he steps forward, “She stepped into that building two minutes before dad blew it up. She waved at me out the window and then…” he imitates an explosion with his hands whilst saying, “Ka-boom…” I heave in a deep breath and then sniffle as if I’m crying. “I’m so sorry. I—” but he interrupts me with his next line. “It’s okay. The pain gives me clarity,” then his voice grows louder again, “You and I are special, we have a lot of work to do.” “What work?” I ask, my voice breaking. “Making the world decent for people who are decent!” he shouts again, making me flinch slightly. “When does it end?” I ask as I walk up to him, but then he leans forward and his voice is so loud that it even scares me a little, even though I know this is supposed to happen. “When every asshole is dead!” he screams it right in my face. I flinch a little, but then push him away in pure frustration and anger. The music for Seventeen starting makes it even more dramatic. “Fine, we're damaged Really damaged But that does not make us wise We're not special, we're not different We don't choose who lives or dies” My voice sounds angry and a little gravely, but it makes the song even better somehow. For the next verse, I sing a little softer, making my voice sound more tender. “Let's be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch tv We'll bake brownies or go bowling Don't you want a life with me?” Sweet Pea still doesn’t look at me. He just stands on the other side of the stage, staring into the audience angrily with the most intimidating scowl on his face I have ever seen. “Can’t we be seventeen? That's all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you” “People hurt us” “Or they vanish,” Sweet Pea sings. “And you're right that really blows But we let go,” then Sweet Pea adds, “take a deep breath” “Then go buy some summer clothes We'll go camping” “Play some poker” I chuckle a little when he finally looks at me. “And we'll eat some chilli fries Maybe prom night” “Maybe dancing” “Don’t stop looking in my eyes” “Your eyes,” Sweet Pea echoes. The scowl on his face has been exchanged for a sad puppy face that nearly makes me cry. I reach my hand out for him to coax him to come closer to me as we sing the chorus together, our voices blending perfectly. “Can we be seventeen Is that so hard to do?” He carefully inches closer and closer. “If you could let me in I could be good with you” He finally takes my hand in his and pulls me a little closer, taking my other hand too. “Let us be seventeen If we still got the right” I let go of one hand and cup his cheek with his as I sing the next line. “So what's it gonna be I wanna be with you” “Wanna be with you” he echoes, and I almost believe him singing it to me instead of JD to Veronica. “I wanna be with you tonight” We belt out the note together, and then he pulls me in for the scripted kiss whilst the music still blares. I pull away from him – even though I don’t want to – when it’s my cue to sing. “Yeah we're damaged,” “Badly damaged” “But your love's too good to lose” our voices blend together again. I then step closer, wrapping my arms around his bicep, pressing my cheek against his shoulder while facing the audience. “Hold me tighter” “Even closer” he wraps his other arm around me. It feels so good and so natural to do this. “I'll stay if I'm what you choose” We then alternate between lines. Our voices soft and vulnerable.   “Can we be seventeen?” “If I am what you choose” “If we still got the right” “’cause you're the one I choose” I get out of his grip and turn back to the spot I was in before, facing him. Now, I can look in his eyes properly. They’re finally telling me the truth. Sweet Pea’s truth, not JD’s. Sweet Pea’s. He means the words as Sweet Pea to me.  Not as JD to Veronica. “You're the one I choose” “You're the one I choose,” we sing the last line together. His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips, and even though I know we have to kiss according to the script, I feel like he actually can’t wait to kiss me. And then he does. His lips curl up into a tender smile first before he places them on mine, gently. I almost forget the show must go on and the next scene is one we’re in too. I mean, we’re Veronica and JD, we’re in pretty much every scene. The end of the show comes sooner than I think. We’re already on the reprisal of Seventeen. It’s a bit bittersweet. I loved doing this musical and playing this part more than anything, but I’ll also be glad it’s over because then I can finally talk to Sweet Pea. “I meant every word I sang during Seventeen, Y/N. I want to be with you,” he tells me in a rush when I run into the wings after the last song. But now, we all still have to go on for the bows. “I want to be with you too,” I tell him with a little smile tugging at my lips. He then leans down and plants his lips on mine. It still feels the same it did when he kissed me in the dressing room or when we kissed on stage. That was never a stage kiss. “As much as I love this, guys,” Evelyn’s voice makes us break up, “You’re almost up for the bows!” I peck Sweet Pea’s lips quickly before running to the other side of the stage where I need to run up for my bows. First it’s Sweet Pea, and I watch him as he waves and then takes his bow. He begins clapping as I run up, a proud smile on his face. I bow and wave at the crowd before Sweet Pea grabs my hand and we bow together once. We then join the others and bow together twice until the music speeds up again and all of us begin dancing like crazy. Veronica and Betty run up to me and hug me sideways, each of them flanking me. I wrap my arms around them too and kiss Betty on the head. They then let go as we lapse into a chorus of “Beautiful” as it’s kind of part of the reprisal of Seventeen still. When the music dies down and all that’s heard is the audience’s applause, Sweet Pea grabs my hand and pulls me towards him, dipping me down to kiss me passionately. I faintly hear cheers, but I can’t focus much on that. All I’m focusing on is Sweet Pea and his tender, warm lips on mine. It is a beautiful freakin’ day.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #430

“when the girl in the corner is everyone’s woman, she could kill you with a wink of her eye”

What kind of dog do you find most ugly? What a mean question. ;-; I don't think they're ugly, but I probably find chihuahuas to be the least visually appealing. Do you like wood floors or carpet better? Wood. Do you think the USA bullies other countries? Quite frankly, yes. Are you currently in love right now? No. Favorite fast food joint? Sonic. What would you do if your ex contacted you? THE ex, have a panic attack. Cry. Be wordlessly ecstatic. Be scared and confused. Do you still have feelings for your ex? Two, yes, but one is unrealistic considering I have no idea who he is anymore. It's been way too long for me to possibly, accurately like him. Ever tasted a flavored condom? No. Do you know CPR? No. How much do you care about your best friend? I'd die for her. Do you watch Dr. Phil? No. What age would you like to have a child? I don't want kids ever. Are your parents wealthy? Mom, absolutely not. Dad seems to be financially stable, but not wealthy or anything. Pick one state you’d love to live in? Alaska. How many pets do you want? And of what? Man, I want a LOT. I know I want more ball python morphs, a plains hognose, a woma python, numerous tarantulas, a fat-tailed gecko, a boa, orchid mantises, a sphynx, a tegu would be super cool... I'd love to have like an empire of pets one day, aha, but only so long as I could maintain them all and adequately provide for them. Have you ever asked someone out? Yes. When do you want to get married? I mean, I don't have a set age in mind. I want to get married when I'm ready. Can you play a musical instrument? I played the flute for yeeeaaaars in middle and high school, but I remember almost nothing by now. What if you stopped orgasming for the rest of your life? Idc, honestly. Does money make you happy? Money probably makes me happier than it should, but I'm not like madly in love with it or anything. Happens when you're poor your whole life. Your favorite breakfast food? Ugh, cinnamon rolls are a godsend. When was the last time you went to a funeral? I actually don't think I've ever been to one... only wakes. I really, really wish I could have gone to Jason's mom's, though... There was just no fucking way that I was going to risk upsetting Jason on THAT day of all days by popping up. Have you ever stolen someone’s boyfriend/girlfriend? Well, we never actually dated, but you could say that... Tell me the date of your first kiss. I don't know the exact date, but it was March 2012. Are your legs long or short? Normal, I guess? How many phobias do you have? Man, a lot. Is there a bookshelf in your room? No. Do you use the Facebook chat often? Barely at all. I only really use it to chat with Girt on the rare occasion we talk. Who got you hooked on the addiction you're addicted to (If you have one)? I discovered Mark on my own; I needed help in an Amnesia: The Dark Descent custom story, so I found his playthrough and watched it. Got a few laughs, subscribed. It was Jason who introduced me to Amnesia, though, so I can indirectly thank him, I guess? haha Are you currently worried about your parents finding out about something? No. Have you ever lived with a friend? Yeah, for a couple months. Have you ever only liked someone because you found out they liked you? No. Ever been on a real diet, or did you just stop eating? I've tried multiple diets. Have you ever known a white supremacist? I know multiple. Welcome to the South. Do you like the smell of a barbecue? Yesss. It's funny because I hate the food itself. Have you ever gone out in public in your pajamas? Yeah. It's not rare, if I'm being honest. How many times have you been to the ER? Too many times because of being suicidal. How many people are you currently texting? None. Anything exciting coming up? My nephew's birthday is in a few days! Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? Money, so I can use it for anything. Do you have Instagram? I have three, ha ha. One for my basic photography, another for my morbid photos, and I went through a very short phase of having an Instagram for my pets. It still exists, but I don't really use it. Have you ever spoken to a detective before? No. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes. Do ladders scare you? Yes. Hot dogs or hamburgers? Cheeseburgers may possibly be my favorite food. Do you have any tattoos on your arms? I do. Have you ever owned or known someone who owned a black cat? I've owned plenty of black cats. What album is the last song you listened to from? It's from Disguise. What’s the last funny movie you watched? Probably Elf. Can you remember your parents’ birthdays? Mom's, yes. I only remember the month of my dad's. If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you pick? I think I want to get my tribute to Teddy next. How do you feel about band tattoos? Hey, go for it. I see nothing wrong with it. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? Probably snakebites. Lip piercings in general are hot lmao. Are you any good at applying make up? Noooo, my hands are so shaky. How old were the last 3 people you kissed? Sara's 23; idr the exact ages of Girt and Tyler. I think Tyler was a year younger than me, and Girt is at the bare minimum three years older than me. If you found out you got someone pregnant, what would you do? Well, I'm a cisgender female, so... Do you ever wonder what your ex is up to? Very frequently. Do you like your cell phone? I mean it's fine, but I'd like a new one. Is rap your favorite genre of music? No, it's actually my least favorite. Have you ever thrown up on anybody? Oh god, no. Do people think you’re happy? I think it's safe to say most people who know me know I'm clinically depressed. Or you know... maybe not. Quite a few people have been surprised to learn that about me because I can put on a good facade. What band would you stand in line for 24 hours to see? None, honestly. That's way too long. What was your worst childhood experience? I guess my dad's alcoholism. As a child, I thought it was a normal thing, but I do wonder if my fear of men has anything to do with how volatile drinking had a 50/50 chance of making him. He never hurt anyone, but he was just so mad and hateful towards the world sometimes. You can trade another person’s emotions for your own. Whose do you take? I have no idea. What was/is going to be your first waltz at your wedding? That'll depend on my partner and what song means the most to us/fits us best. "When It's Love" by Van Halen has been a consideration for forever, though. When it’s not summer, what do you miss most about it? I hate summer. I miss nothing about it. Do you consider yourself patriotic? No. What is the one thing that you need to do to die happy? Feel like I accomplished something notable. Do you consider yourself mainstream? No. What’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done? Overdosing on cold medicine. What is life’s greatest mystery? Probably from whence we came. Humanity has fished for a definite answer forever. What was your favourite make-believe game as a kid? Pretending I was a meerkat hiding in a "burrow" that was a blanket fort, ha ha. Do you try your best at everything? Honestly, no. Who is your shoulder to cry on? My mom, without fail. What’s your standard excuse for not doing something? I dunno... it depends on the topic. Name the most beautiful person you know. As far as physical appearance goes, my friend Alon. Have you ever been to jail? No. What is one moment you wish you could have taken a picture of? Sara's face when I surprised her at her house for her birthday. It was absolutely fucking priceless. What place holds the most memories for you? Jason's house. Who was your first date? My puppy dog-love middle school bf Aaron. We went with a group of friends to a skating rink. My first one-on-one date was Jason. What’s the best trip you’ve ever been on? The zoo in 5th grade. It's the one and only time I've seen meerkats. For some weird reason, our zoo moved the meerkats not long after that visit. I THINK they said the environment just wasn't suitable for them, which I never really got... I think they mentioned the cold, but like, you have heating for them, and also, have you ever experienced a desert night? You consider all the other areas that have meerkats in their zoos and it's like... why, man. Bring my meerkats back. ;_; What do you think the earth will look like in 1,000 years? Oh dear God, I do NOT want to visualize that. My gut tells me it'll be a wasteland, probably without humans or most forms of life we have now. We have to get our shit straight, so very badly. I could rant for hours about how horribly and ungratefully we abuse our planet. Who makes you happy to be around? Sara! I feel like I can be my 100% authentic self, and we just vibe really well together. Like every time I've been there and she here, our friendship felt so natural and chill. I really, really need to save up for another trip up there. What secret have you tried to hide but it got out anyway? I kept the Joel situation to myself from pretty much everyone, but it eventually came out in front of Mom and Jason. It was actually the night of the breakup; I don't remember how it was relevant at all to mention, but I did in some form. Mom wisely never asked about it, and Jason obviously didn't. I was a stupid 12-year-old anyway, it's whatever now. Who/what is your everything? I will never. Ever. In five billion millennia. Let anyone be that again. How many people have you turned down when they asked you out? Ummm three? I think that's it. How many exes do you have? If I include everyone who ever had a title of "boyfriend/girlfriend," I have six. Who was your worst relationship with? Tyler. It was just pointless and the result of nothing but loneliness. What’s your ‘label’? (ex. punk, prep) I really, really don't care. Do you swear? How much? Like a sailor. I swore some beforehand, but I got really bad when Jason and I started dating. He swore a lot, and his mother did even more. I was around them as much as possible, so it rubbed off on me. What is the one thing that would make everything in your life fall apart? Losing my family, like being disowned or something like that. Especially when it comes to Mom. I rely on her so heavily, as much as I hate that. :/ What takes your breath away? Nature is very capable of that. Something like seeing big waterfalls in the mountains or something would marvel me. Are you patient? No, honestly. Are you a good dancer? No. Even when I took dance, I don't think I was great; however, I do think I was pretty skilled at clogging. Who would you call first in a life-threatening situation (not 911)? My mom. Who do you miss? Jason and his family, Megan, Alex, Hannia, Emily, Journee... a lot of people. Do you like snakes? I adore snakes.