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coffeecatsandcandles · 3 years ago

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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈- 𝐔𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | widow!dad!teacher!Bucky x f!teacher!Reader (ft. Rebecca Barnes and other friends)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.3k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mention of death, gossip, rumors, therapy.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

Monday was an entirely new monster. On Friday, gossip had flown around the school about how you’d scolded James for yelling at one of your students. Now, completely new rumors were flying around the school. Turns out, Kate did talk. And she talked a lot. Before second period, there was already talk about your “date” with Mr. Barnes on Friday night at Cesario’s, in which Kate was your server. In third period, a brave student asked if you and Mr. Barnes were dating. You simply ignored the question, getting him to go back to his work. During fourth period, you received an e-mail from the principal for a brief meeting during your planning period.

Oh god.

You tried not to drag your feet as you made your way to your boss’s office, and you caught sight of James also making his way there. Your heart was racing now- she knew about your dinner with James, and she was going to ask questions. Lots of questions.

Carol Danvers was a former Air Force pilot- after getting hurt on the job she retired early to pursue an education career, working her way up to be principal after many years teaching astronomy, biology, and even physical education for a while. She seemed to have a soft spot with you as she did most of the feminine teachers, but you knew you couldn’t sweet-talk your way out of this. She didn’t have any favorites- she was stern and unapologetic.

Taking a seat next to James in Carol’s office, you looked to the blonde woman across the desk for any sign that you weren’t in trouble.

“Okay, let’s just cut to the chase, you both know why you’re here.” She said bluntly. You and James nodded in response. It wasn’t like you were scared of Carol- or at least, you weren’t- but you valued your job. “There’s too much talk going around and I’m getting lots of e-mails from teachers because the kids won’t shut up about whether you two are dating or not.”

Both you and James started to respond at the same time, cutting each other off before even speaking. James backed away, letting you speak, but you wanted him to go first. It was overly polite, and it was clear there was something there. You couldn’t help but notice the way Carol was looking at both of you, like she was analyzing everything and making her own judgements. By the looks of it, you and James could both deny forever, but she wouldn’t believe a single word. Carol was spectacular at reading people, and the most obvious thing between the two of you to her were your embarrassingly obvious crushes on each other.

“We- I made a mistake on Friday,” you started, “I scolded him in the hallway, I was rude and I wanted to make up for what I did.”

“I’d hardly call it that,” James interjected, “just so you know, Carol, I deserved every word that came my way from her.”

“Okay,” Carol said, “so are you dating or not?”

“No,” you and James said at the same time. Thank god, at least you were both on the same page.

“Alright then,” she said, “I guess we’re done here.” She stood to open the door for you and James, noticing the confusion on both of your faces. “Look, it’s not a big deal if you are. There’s just some paperwork- and as much as I know these kids like to lie, I have to take every accusation and rumor seriously. Neither of you are in trouble.”

You tried not to make your sigh of relief obvious as you said your goodbyes to Carol. Even when you were in school, it was unlike you to have to make a trip to the principal’s office. The only time you did was if you were being picked up early by a parent. It wasn’t like you to get in trouble, and today was the closest you ever wanted to get.

“Can you believe her?” James scoffed as you walked together to your classrooms. You remembered his was on a completely different hallway, but he stayed with you, as if he felt the need to walk you to your classroom after that fiasco.

“I know,” you scoffed back, “Us? Dating? Yeah, right.”

“I’m glad you agree.” He said. You found yourself standing outside of your classroom with James towering over you. You liked how tall he was compared to you, how his head almost reached the top of the doorframe. “All the kids are starting to sound like Becca.”

“Is she still on the whole ‘I wish she were my mommy’ thing? I hate to bring it up again, but I really think you should-“

“I scheduled an appointment with a therapist for her.” He interrupted your train of thought, and it struck you how he’d actually listened to you. “I’m sure it’s not just you, one of these days she’ll probably come home calling Mrs. Parker her mom. She just doesn’t have a lot of women in her life. It’s always kinda been just me or Steve.”

“I’m sorry, James. I really am.”

James gave a sad smile, avoiding the sentiment completely. “Do you want to get some coffee after school? I can bring Becca along. There’s this place we go to all the time, Luce Café. It’s not far from here.”

“Do any students work there?” you joked.

James smiled, “Not a single one. Becca and I are regulars.”

“Then that sounds perfect.” You said, smiling back. Though your moment was cut short by the sound of footsteps approaching your classroom. Checking your phone, you noticed that your planning period wouldn’t be over for another ten minutes. You turned and were greeted by your waitress from Friday night and one of James’s students, Kate.

Kate had a plan, and she was going to go through with it no matter how ridiculous it sounded. “Hi. So, I have a pretty random question for you.” She was looking directly at you when she said it, and it struck you as odd. Kate wasn’t your student- you didn’t teach many seniors.

“Of course, Kate.”

“I’m sort of struggling to find a topic for my senior project- I know I want to do something on archery, and I was thinking of doing all the math that’s involved in it or maybe the history behind it?” she looked at James for the latter part, “but then I figured, it’s my project and I can do whatever the hell I want- oh, sorry.” She corrected her little slip up, though you didn’t care enough to scold her for it.

“I think that sounds like two great topics,” James said, sort of catching on to what Kate was trying to do, “But if you want to learn more about archery, isn’t that more of a topic for Coach Barton? Neither of us are as skilled in it as him.”

“Sure, he’s good at archery,” Kate reasoned, “but it takes someone like you two to really know and have an unbiased opinion on the sport. Maybe we can all learn a thing or two!”

James was sure he could tell what Kate was doing. According to James, Kate was trying to test if you and James would even want to be in the same room together after Friday, or how quickly you would agree or deny mentoring her together. What if you agreed, and Kate just gave the school more information on this relationship between the two of you? If you denied, would it only fuel the fire too?

“I guess I don’t see a problem with it,” you started, James shooting daggers with his eyes at you.

Before he could object, Kate excitedly continued. “Perfect! Are Mondays after school alright? I know you two aren’t in charge of any clubs or anything.”

You looked to James. He seemed stressed, and you could understand why. Now every Monday, he would either have to show up late to every meeting to pick up Rebecca, or ask Steve to go out of his way to bring her to the high school. He could hire a sitter, but there wasn’t a person he trusted as much as Steve to have Rebecca in their care, plus the hassle of going through the interview and screening process which called for time he didn’t have. He knew Steve wouldn’t have a problem with it always basically dropped everything to care for her, but James also knew Steve had a life. He dated, he had a job, he had hobbies. He wasn’t a parent, he didn’t need to be one half the time for him.

But for some reason, despite all the stressors, James really wanted to do it. Not for Kate- it’d been a long time since he cared this deeply about a student. Sure, he wanted all his students to succeed (though it may not have shown), but Kate could’ve done this without him, or even with another history teacher like Mr. Lang.

James promised himself that this would be the last time he would take advantage of Steve’s flexible schedule. He’d ask him to do pick her up and stay with her for no more than two hours after school, and he’d be there to take her from him and take her home. He hated asking Steve to do this, no matter how often Steve told him that he didn't mind; that Rebecca's cuteness alone was a great way to pick up women when he took her grocery shopping. It made James feel less than, like he wasn’t capable of doing one simple thing that every other parent made time in their schedule to do. But he couldn’t help that the elementary school dismissed their kids almost an hour before the high school did, and James couldn’t ask them to change their entire schedule just for him.

“Sure. I guess it’s fine with me too.” He finally said.

Kate smiled, “Awesome! We can start next week! I’ll let Ms. V know I picked you two as my mentors.” She referred to Ms. Van Dyne, the English teacher who was also in charge of the annual senior projects. Every senior had to do one, on some topic they were either passionate about or planned on pursuing as a career. Kate walked away, presumably back to class.

“Look at that, a first-year already mentoring a senior? You don’t see that often here.”

“It’s not like I’ve never taught before,” you playfully scolded, “I take it you’ve done about a thousand, right?”

James looked at the ground, “Actually, no. In all my years here I’ve only done two and it was-“ he internally cringed at the memory. It was before Rebecca was born, before his wife had died, before he became a complete grump. “-a long time ago. Kids hardly pursue history and if they do, they usually ask Scott to be their mentor. He’s a lot cooler than me.”

You were about to object when the bell rang, meaning students would start piling into your classroom any minute. “I’ll see you later.” James said, backing away and soon getting lost in the sea of high schoolers leaving their classes to go to their next ones.

Wait, did that mean Kate wanted to meet today?

Before you could chase her down, you already had a few freshmen piling into your classroom, some of them stuck on a project that’d been due in their previous class. If you left them alone, they’d probably wreak havoc on your classroom and turn it into a custodian’s worst nightmare.

Meanwhile, James started to wonder the same thing. He’d have Kate in his next and final class of the day- but now he took this time to relax. It was now his planning period, and he usually kept everything up to date. He didn’t have any extra lesson plans to make, any papers to grade, or any extra worksheets to print. He was completely free for the next hour.

Knowing Becca was out of school and Steve had picked her up, James decided to take out his phone to give his daughter a quick video call. He hated that it’d just become a habit for him to be a grump- he didn’t want his daughter to ever feel like she wasn’t good enough for him. She was perfect no matter what she did- it was him who needed the attitude change.

“Hey,” Steve said, clearly in the car.

“Hey… let me say hi to my daughter before you get in a wreck.” James joked.

Steve lightly laughed, handing his phone to Rebecca in the backseat. Her face lit up James’s screen; her unmistakable smile- wiggly bottom tooth and all- got even bigger the second she saw her dad on Steve’s screen. “Hi Daddy!”

“Hey sweet girl. How was school?”

“Good. Mrs. Parker is showing us cursive.”

Already? James felt his heart strings tug a little. It felt like just yesterday Rebecca couldn’t even spell her own name. She’d often spell it with one C instead of two.

Rebecca noticed the silence and spoke again. “Are you okay, Daddy?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, James answered hesitantly. “Yea.. yea I’m okay. I just miss you, Bec.”

“You’ll see me later!” Rebecca laughed. It occurred to James that maybe he was being a little clingy. Becca let out a tiny gasp, remembering what she made at school. Apparently, it could not wait another couple of hours. “Wait, Daddy look!” she pulled out a drawing from her notebook. It was of a butterfly- big pink wings with green and purple polka dots. On the righthand corner in blue crayon, the drawing was signed “Rebecca B.” in a handwriting James once knew to be big and sloppy, but had now gotten slightly smaller and neater. When had she learned to fix that? How much had he been missing?

“That’s so pretty, love.”

“Can you give it to Mommy?”

It was a strange request, but upon a few conversations with Becca’s soon-to-be therapist, James learned that it would help Becca in her grieving process for him to let her draw pictures, write letters, and look at pictures of her mother. James was accumulating little things around the house of his wife’s and putting it on the mantle in their home so Becca could see it whenever she wanted. “Sure, we can put it on top of the fireplace.”

“No.. not Mommy… Mommy!”

It took him a second to figure out what the hell his daughter was saying. Then it all connected. The butterfly drawing, the insistence and way she couldn’t distinguish the difference between the two women anymore. She wanted you to have the drawing, not her actual mother.

“Bec, she’s not your mom. She’s just someone I work with.”

“But she’s nice to me and she loves me. She’s kind of like my mommy.”

It was times like this where Steve wanted to interject, but he knew he wasn’t his place. He was a babysitter, not Becca’s dad. But he knew what he saw when he first met you. He saw a woman James was falling in love with, and someone that Becca already loved immensely, whether James wanted to admit it or not.

Resist, James told himself. She’s just young and confused. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. He couldn’t be upset with her anymore. He was doing that too much recently- Steve was starting to look like the superior guardian, he could tell.

“Hey, do you wanna go to Luce’s later?” James asked, completely changing the subject. His daughter’s face lit up at the idea of downing a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, a very obvious but silent yes from his child.

He said his goodbyes and promises to see her later, catching the kisses Rebecca sent his way and hanging up.

His planning ended before he knew it; he was too busy stressing over seeing you again because he now had the image of you as a mother in his head. If only, he’d think. Coming home with you, you resting your head on his shoulder as you all watched a movie in the living room, feeling his hands run through your hair as he kissed you…

No, there had to be some sort of biological or psychological explanation for this. You were attractive, young, motherly towards his daughter, and his friend. That didn’t mean he liked you like that, right?

Snapping himself out of his own daydream, his brain started working ahead of him the second he heard the bell ring for the final class of the day and shortly after, saw Kate walk into his class along with a few other seniors for U.S. History. “Kate… your project. Are we meeting today?” He sounded rough. Like he’d just been harshly woken up out of a beautiful dream.

“No… I haven’t prepared anything yet. Next week.” The teenager promised, sitting in her desk. A few of her friends eyed her weirdly and one even snickered. James ignored it, not wanting to call attention to how unusual it sounded for Kate’s mentor for her archery project to be a history teacher, nonetheless him.

Why was James relieved? He still promised to see you after school today. Maybe now the two of you would get the chance to talk about whatever the hell this project was going to be about. Or maybe James could make a move. He moved it to the back of his mind for now, focusing only on his lecture- where a record five students started to doze off. Normally, he’d wake them up and give them detention, but today, he urged himself to think how you think.

It’s the last class of the day, and if he remembered correctly, at least one of those kids had gym class the period before. They were still kids. Worn out by the day, exhausted and trying to cram so much knowledge from one day in their heads.

He had to admit, your way of thinking did save him a lot of stress. He’d talk to them after class- make sure they’re okay.

James taught U.S. History to his seniors as you taught Geometry to your sophomores, and soon enough the dismissal bell rang and every student in Westview High School left their classrooms and made their way to the front of the school to be picked up by parents, the side of the school to be picked up by the bus, the student parking lot to go to their cars, or leaving through the back of the school because their house was close enough to walk. Some left in groups, others waited for their siblings, some left alone. But within thirty minutes, the school was practically empty.

You never stayed after school for longer than an hour most days, and you didn’t plan on changing it. You knew one day there’d be a meeting, workload, or classroom decorating session that would keep you longer, but for now, you enjoyed being off at a relatively early time, especially since there were some teachers who stayed for hours after without getting paid. Mr. Laufeyson, the theatre teacher, was a prime example. He’d stay for hours in rehearsal with the drama kids working on the school play they’d take to competition. You noticed a few of your students in the cast, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to go see it.

There was a light tapping at your door. You looked up to see James, sheepishly waiting for you. He looked small, as if he was burdening you wish the reminder that you promised to go out for coffee with him and Rebecca.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” he said, a small, crooked smile making its way onto his face. One he just couldn’t hide anymore- not when he was around you.

“I’m almost done. I’ll be one second.” You said, returning the smile, “Is Steve meeting us there?”

“Sort of,” James said, “He’s dropping off Becca and then heading to a meeting.”

“What exactly does Steve do for a living?” You didn’t want to intrude on Steve’s personal life, as you hardly knew him, but you found yourself wondering that a lot. Steve spent a lot of his time with Rebecca and seemed to have the perfect stay-at-home dad schedule.

“Real estate,” James said, eyeing how shocked you looked when he said it. He liked how your eyebrows furrowed and your head tilted. He thought it was cute. “Half the homes in town exist because of him. He’s busy sometimes but not too much.”

“Oh,” was all you could mutter. Finishing up your planning for the next day, you logged out of your computer and grabbed your coat.

“What about you?” James asked suddenly.

“What about me?”

“What’s your life like outside of here?”

It was a loaded question. For as long as you could remember, your life surrounded every single student you had. In every grade. Even the more troubled ones, you still managed to show a genuine interest in them and make it to games and competitions their extra curriculars had. When you taught elementary, you talked with their parents about the big, bright futures they had ahead of them, and you meant it every single time. There wasn’t a moment where you weren’t thinking about ways to make your classroom fun or let parents know that their children were exceptional. In all honesty, it felt like you didn’t have a life outside of teaching.

“I get it, don’t worry,” James said, noticing you were lost for words, “the burnout is… intense. If it weren’t for Becca I probably wouldn’t do much outside of here either. When you have a kid, they take up your entire schedule. Outside of here I have sleepover duty, soccer practice, and now therapy. On top of trying to learn how to keep up with all the new things she likes.”

“She’s playing soccer now?” you smiled.

“Yeah. Started about two weeks ago.”

“She didn’t mention that at dinner on Friday.”

“She was just so excited to see you I guess she forgot. And it took a while for her to warm up to it- she wanted to take swimming classes but they were full.” There was a stillness in the conversation before James spoke again, clearly apologetic. “I’m sorry, I feel like every time we talk it’s about me. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care what’s going on in your life.”

You laughed as you made your way to your car. “No, it’s not an issue. Really. I like it.”

“And besides Steve- who knows all my drama- I don’t really have anyone to talk to.”

“Me too,” you said, “I guess that’s why I didn’t really know how to answer your question. My life is centered around my students, coffee, wine, and whatever the most popular TV show is. It’s not much, but nobody’s ever really asked me about that stuff. The stuff no one really cares about.”

Your backside was pressed against the driver’s door as you leaned against your car. James kept his distance, but was still relatively close. It was weirdly intimate, like you were just on a date.

“I care about that stuff.” James said, “And I’m not just saying that.”

Before you could craft a witty response, James pressed his lips against yours in a quick kiss. It caught you off guard and was something you didn’t expect- at least not today- and James mistook the shock on your face as disgust. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that-“ he started rambling, trying to save himself and your friendship by backtracking and trying to forget the last five seconds of your lives.

“Hey, James. It’s okay.” You said, cupping his face in your hands and looking at him. Your eyes, the softness of your palms- it all calmed James down so much. “I promise. It’s okay.” You hoped you were sending the right message.

You hadn’t meant it’s okay as ‘I forgive you because I know it won’t happen again.’ You wanted to make it clear that you wanted it to happen again. And again, and again, and again. Just the half-second of his lips on yours wasn’t enough. You wanted more.

Slowly, you leaned in again for a deeper, intentional kiss. The kind of kiss that put every romance novel you’d read and every movie you’d seen to shame. The kind of kiss that said finally… this is what I’ve been waiting for.

It was okay. Everything he felt, every time his heart fluttered when he saw you, every time he made himself better because he heard your voice in the back of his head. It was okay. It was more than okay.

“I’ll see you at Luce’s.” you said, unlocking your car and failing to hide a big, cheesy grin on your face.

“Yeah. I’ll see you.” He closed the door for you when you got in, dumbfounded at how he just stood in his tracks, watching you drive away. In awe at your beauty, in awe that he got to share his first kiss in seven years with someone as perfect as you.

The phantom pains James felt where his arm used to be hadn’t occurred since you started working at Westview High. You were finally starting to feel like your life was going somewhere, regardless if he had a child or not. And you loved her- you loved Rebecca so much, it just seemed too perfect to be real.

As you made your way to Luce’s, you couldn’t shake the smile. This would lead to a long, adult conversation about relationships in the workplace, not to mention the fact that he had a daughter, which came with a whole new, even bigger set of responsibilities for you to take on- but you were ready for everything this would throw at you.

Because James Barnes was worth it. You knew that for a fact.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #dad!bucky

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chanluster · 4 years ago

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart.

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening.

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?”

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked.

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea.

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.”

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful

“This asshole,” you muttered.

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS:

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing.

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?”

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take.

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here?

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes.

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time.

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

Were you really just friends?

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings.

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend.

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first.

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth.

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

You blinked.

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused.

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids dark hours #bang chan dark hours #bang chan hard hours #stray kids hard hours

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monpalace · 3 years ago

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okay, but what if the teacher's had apprentices??? like a random thought but what if there was one student that's a lot like let's say cruella de vil and they got sorted to be with yuu in ramshackle because they are nothing like the students in the rest of the dorms. then crewel takes them under his wing and then boom apprentice. and he pretty much becomes their new parent omg wtf this is longer than i thought itd be (U#$#(r@#)*

hmmmmmmm,, definitely a good question,, why did this turn out so long oh my god

pay would definitely come out the the teacher's pocket/paycheck since crowley doesn't have the fund to take on teacher assistants/apprentices

there would definitely be obvious favoritism depending on the teacher!!

vargas doesn't really count depending on your interests because i just KNOW he would make you do a hundred more laps than everyone else. but since the character would also be based off gaston i can see the two of them frequently having dumb challenges

trein would treat you like every other student, but he'd definitely be more fair with grading you + lucius would definitely go with you whenever during the school day. since the the character and him are similar, maybe on particularly stressful they go out and just have a walk? if they have one, lucius and their cat would most certainly trail behind them at a reasonable pace and just talk shit about the people they've seen throughout their nine lives

crewel would call you petnames that aren't dog related. maybe like mini me or fashionista or something?? whenever an event like a fashion show comes up, he takes you regardless of if you have school that day or not. he tells you how to make clothes that really POP out at people in hopes that you take his advice and use it to fix whatever ragtag outfits the ramshackle students have

literally everything i say about sam is a headcanon so idk if this'll be good,, but everything you get from the store is free. since voodoo (?) is a religious practice, i can't see him getting you into it unless you showed interest or were really interested in what he did. he tries embarrassing you in front of your friends i just know it. depending on how you act around him, it can mold your relationships. a lot of people tag him as a uncle/older brother, but he can be your dad if you want! ultimately, he wants you to always be safe, so it's not uncommon for you to see his shadow or a spirit out of the corner of your eye stalking you throughout the day

crowley,, he doesn't take you on those "work trips" the most he'll do is facetime you so you can feel the experience for yourself. you probably get a better allowance than yuu, but not by a lot 🗿 maybe like two dollars and a coupon to some hat store on sage island. while you wouldn't technically be a glorified assistant when he takes you under your wing, you still do some of his work load so you can get used to things like paperwork and making sure things run smoothly. during summer breaks he MIGHT take you on his vacation if you do something embarrassingly cute and let him record it

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song vi (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; basically a montage of the sex they’ve been having during the rest of the summer lol, they can’t keep their hands off one another, seokjin’s mouth gets progressively dirtier as time goes on, he also gets strategic with condom storage, smut includes; 69, face riding, condomless sex, creampie, biting, (light) spanking, there’s cute things too, like arin’s birthday party and oc meeting his parents words; 12,064

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You spent the whole of Sunday in bed – which you thought was Seokjin’s plan all along, only finding your way downstairs to eat, and even then he couldn’t keep his hands off you for long enough. (Not that you minded.) He was making the most of it, he told you, before he had to leave you for work. That, and he was waving goodbye to his celibacy the right way… Despite your snort, you understood what he meant. You had fun familiarising yourself with the wonders of sex again… Miraculously blessed with an abundance of energy. Although, when it came to Seokjin, how could you even think about resisting him?! You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. And neither could he…

“Mmm. What time is it?” You asked Monday morning, voice heavy with sleep, eyes still closed as you heard Seokjin’s alarm go off. He stirred beside you, sitting up to knock the device off before burrowing back under the covers to wrap his arms around your naked body.

“Half 6,” he grumbled, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. “I don’t want to work.” With one squeeze to his chest, you felt that very obvious erection of his pressed against your ass. “Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day? Inside you…”

You giggled, attempting to roll over and face him. A hand cupped your cheek instantly, puffy lips finding yours. Morning Seokjin wasn’t good for your heart. His messy hair flopping over his eyes, pillow marks marring his skin, the slight stubble beginning to grow along his top lip… It was all just so… sexy, and now you were wide awake. Still, some teasing couldn’t be helped.

“We literally spent yesterday all day in bed…”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he declared. “I’d do it all again today.”

You raised an eyebrow, a palm holding him steady at the waist. “All again? You do realise we still have all week to go, right? I wouldn’t want you to fail on me so soon…”

He huffed out a laugh, fingertips ever so cheekily grazing the underside of your right breast. “You underestimate me…” His voice was still gruff from sleep, it made his words ripple through your body, settling between your legs. “I still have 95% of the condoms to use. So,” he grinned, dipping his head to capture your mouth. “You,” – he rolled you onto your back expertly – “better,” – he kissed your throat – “keep,” – then your cleavage – “ up.” His tongue around your nipple had you gasping out immediately, back arching, wanting more.

Spreading your legs, he nestled in between them easily, the muscles of his meaty thighs protruding as he kneeled up slightly. You gripped them urgently, needing to anchor yourself somehow, knowing what was about to come.

His teeth grazed your nipple as he dragged away, lifting his head up to smirk. “What do you say, baby, one for the road?”

Baby. Yesterday he’d become quite partial to that word, learning quite quickly what it did to you, what effect it had on you. (Yes, a curse word – or two, or more – may have slipped out of you yesterday… He’d won, embarrassingly soon.)

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but still told him to shut up. Two minutes later he was buried inside you making you moan out his name.

It wasn’t even 7am.

When Seokjin finally got off to work (after about a bajillion kisses…), you slipped into the shower, attempting to work it without breaking it. With that successful, you wondered downstairs to make some breakfast. It was strange being inside his house alone. You’d arrived to meet him for lunch early a couple of times, yes, but Misook and Arin had always been there ready to greet you. Today it was just you, playing music as loud as you could just to drown out the deafening silence as pottered about in the kitchen. After eating, you washed the dishes (most leftover from yesterday) in the sink, unsure how to set the dishwasher correctly, and wondered to yourself how Seokjin had managed to cope living here alone before Arin moved in…

You busied yourself with unpacking your case, not having a chance to do it yesterday – too preoccupied – while watching the clock. You had a lunch date with Soojung at half 11. You’d managed to text her a brief reply yesterday but other than that you’d been AWOL. You knew it must’ve been killing her. By the time you met up at the food court, she was frothing at the mouth, desperate for all the details, which you gave to her in hushed whispers over a shared thin crust margherita. You didn’t divulge all though, just enough to keep her nosey butt satisfied.

“This is not fair at all,” she whined. “You were getting dilfed the hell down and I was getting farted on by Tae.”

You laughed, wholly impressed. “You’ve turned it into a verb now? Very creative. I’m so glad to have you as a best friend.”

Although, she wasn’t so happy to have you as one when you confessed to telling Seokjin about his plethora of nicknames…

Seokjin came home a little earlier than you’d expected. After lunch with Soo, you’d popped to the local grocery store, picking up a few things for dinner and then you’d sat in front of the television for the afternoon. It wasn’t the most productive day you’d had by any means, but you felt contented, excited to greet Seokjin after his long day at work. You were in the kitchen, beginning to prepare dinner when you heard his voice.

“Honey?” Before you had time to reply, he was calling your name, closer down the hallway. “Y/N? Where are you?”

“Kitchen,” you called back.

You weren’t looking when he entered, back to him, so suddenly you were engulfed in his arms from behind. He held your back to his chest tightly. “Hey,” he murmured, nestling into your neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you said with a smile, holding his hands that were around your stomach.

He shook his head, pressing his crotch to your ass. “No, I really missed you.”

“Seokjin,” you hissed in surprise, feeling his erection instantly. You were getting déjà vu. Laughing, you wriggled around, facing him. He already had his tie loosened around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt free. “Control yourself. You’ve literally just gotten through the door.”

His facial expression looked immediately agonised. “I can’t. You’ve awakened the beast.”

“The beast?” You snorted.

He stared you down. “Yes.” And then he was on you, no time to return his kiss with just as much enthusiasm before he was at your neck, growling playfully. You fell into a fit of giggles, held prisoner by his hands pinned to your hips. “I was – distracted – all – day.” He informed you between tugs of your skin, tongue dutifully swiping where he’d bitten. He repeated. “Couldn’t stop thinking – about you naked – and moaning my – name – while I ate your–”

“Seokjin!” you roared, heat instantly travelling up your face. You swore his mouth was getting dirtier by the hour. It made sense. He was teasing in nature… you just needed some time to get used to it. You would not let him finish that sentence for fear your legs would collapse beneath you.

He broke away and leaned back, pupils so dark you could just about make out the brown of his irises. He panted slightly, lips wet. “Do you want to?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Right here?” It didn’t practically look like he was about to sweep you up in his arms and dash you up to the bedroom if the urgent grinding of his crotch was anything to go by…

He grinned wolfishly, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“It’s not very sanitary.” You glanced to your left as you spoke, eyeing up the two bell peppers you’d placed on the counter five minutes before Seokjin and his penis had shown up…

You watched in pure disbelief as Seokjin eased back and pulled a square foil packet out of his inner breast pocket. “Why? I have protection.”

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “Why do you have a condom with you?” He’d gone to work with that in his pocket? Attended meetings? Was he crazy?

“It’s not what it looks like.” He chuckled, looking momentarily bashful. “I just thought… easy access. We never know when we’ll need one.”

Folding your arms, you stared at him. Frustratingly you were unable to keep the corners of your lips from quirking up. “We’ll need one at your office?”

He shrugged casually, a smug smirk on his face. “Who knows. I’m a man of very many fantasies…”

Oh, my god. Unbelievable. But you couldn’t pretend that his words weren’t having an effect on you, nor that the office fantasy didn’t sound hot… You stepped forward, hooking your fingers between his belt and slacks, pulling him forward – which was easy because he was caught off guard. “Enough small talk. Are you going to fuck me in your CEO suit, or what?”

He composed himself expertly, hands reaching for your waist as he leaned in. “First of all, hearing you curse will never not completely obliterate me, and second of all…” He paused to grin, so full of himself it was unbelievable. “You want me to fuck you in my suit?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, tugging on his tie.

And fuck you in his suit he did, spread on the counter, your tank top yanked down so he could watch your breasts bounce as he pounded into you…

You spent the Tuesday in his home office, making the most out of idle time to lesson plan for your new class come September. You facetimed Soojung (who tried her best to get you to give her a house tour) and then ended up sunbathing with a book for an hour or so outside. After Seokjin came home he called Arin, asking her what she’d been up to so far and if she was having fun. Despite how much he was enjoying your company you could tell he was missing his daughter, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you with words. You sympathised with him, it must have been weird not having her around.

Unsure what to do for dinner, Seokjin suggested making a last minute dinner reservation. That sounded fine by you, too lazy to think of preparing something tonight, so off you went upstairs to get ready, but of course, Seokjin found ways of distracting you… (You were thirty minutes late for dinner.)

The days were passing by quickly, and you could quite honestly say the week with Seokjin was bliss – and not just because of all of the sex. Although, it did play a very big role… It was the little things that meant the most, such as grocery shopping on the Wednesday afternoon. Generously, Seokjin had used two of his vacation days for the end of the week, saving the others he was due in the summer to spend with Arin for her birthday at the end of next month. He’d arrived home early on the Wednesday afternoon, informing you he would be making dinner tonight and as silly as it sounded, walking around the store while Seokjin pushed the cart was one of the sweetest activities you’d shared together. The domesticity of it made your whole day, but the pasta dish he prepared later that night almost ruined it. His seasoning quantities were a little off, shall we say, all those years out of practice, so it turned out he was a danger with those chilli flakes. However, the coughing fit you both had after the first bite made for great entertainment… You didn’t know whether you were crying with laughter or because your throat was on fire…

The next day, as great as staying in bed and having sex all day sounded, Seokjin wanted to take you out and spend some time together as a couple. You were left to decide what you wanted to do, and of course you chose shopping. A new mall had recently opened up about an hour away and because you were so nervy on highways, you hadn’t had a chance to go yet. Seokjin was more than happy to take you, and kindly enough he did spoil you a bit that day. Usually you wouldn’t allow it (he’d tried it in the past), but there was no harm with once in a blue moon, was there? Besides, he got great use out of a few of the gifts too… One being the black skimpy laced lingerie he’d picked out… (The panties had an open crotch…) That evening you shared a bath and a bottle of champagne before you’d given him a very indulgent fashion show…

On Friday, you prepared a picnic and went hiking, which left Seokjin with an incredibly (and comically) red nose even though he’d applied sunscreen. You spent the afternoon cuddling in front of the television, making the most out of your last day alone together. Truthfully, you felt a little sad at the prospect of tomorrow. You missed Arin too and couldn’t wait to see her but spending your days so intimately and lovingly with Seokjin had been amazing. You told him just as much gone midnight, wrapped up in his arms and bedsheets, head pressed against his sheened chest as you listened to his heartbeat slowly even out. This week had made you fall for him harder – if possible – and you were sad it was ending, but just so excited this was only the beginning… He kissed you long and hard, agreeing wholeheartedly, words unneeded.

Arin was due back early afternoon, so you and Seokjin shared breakfast together before you packed up your things. He clung to you the entire time, sighing every time you folded up an item of clothing and placed it in your case.

“How will I function without having sex with you every morning?” He bemoaned after one particularly loud unhappy exhale.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” you laughed. He was unbelievable. And whiney. But then again, so were you…

Stood beside your car an hour later, saying your goodbyes, you hugged him tight. “I’m going to miss youuu.” How were you expected to sleep alone tonight?! It wasn’t fair.

It was now Seokjin’s turn to chuckle at your ridiculousness. “I’m not going anywhere.” He assured, cupping the back of your head as you pulled back to look at him. His expression softened instantly. “But I feel the same.” Kissing your nose, he smiled. “You know that you can spend the night here anytime you want though, right?”

You held out until Monday. You wanted to give Arin some time alone with Seokjin after her week away, you bet she’d missed her father like crazy, but apparently she’d missed you too… Seokjin called you while he was at work – his second call of the day. (His first had been at six o’clock this morning, waking you up to let you know he (and his dick) missed you.) Arin had asked him to ask you if you wanted to come over tonight for an impromptu movie night. You were touched to say the least. You let Seokjin know you��d be there 6pm on the dot with snacks at hand. He told you to bring an overnight bag…

Having sex with Arin under the same roof took some time to get used to. The first time was so hilarious looking back. It was 1am, time was ticking on and Seokjin had to be awake in under six hours, Arin was long asleep – and across the hall! Yet still you were both anxious fools, listening out for the slightest of noises just in case the unthinkable happened. Not that it would have, Seokjin knew Arin was a heavy sleeper so there was little chance of her barging in… but it still didn’t stop him from whispering “What was that?” every five minutes, eyes pulled wide like a deer caught in headlights.

It definitely got easier though, and soon movie nights became a regular thing as the last weeks of summer rolled by. You had a routine; one movie of Arin’s choice and then it was her bedtime, and then if Seokjin and you felt like it, you’d choose a movie yourselves to watch. Tonight was a Saturday, so after Enchanted had finished and Seokjin put Arin to bed, you decided to watch something too seeing as he didn’t have work the next morning.

Halfway in, however, you were getting distracted… Your hand sneaking inside the blanket you had wrapped around the both of you to run up and down Seokjin’s thigh. This week had been an odd one. Your boyfriend had been super busy with work and you’d missed him – obviously. You’d done well to keep your hands off him for this long, now you were finally caving…

“I guess this movie is boring?” Seokjin whispered into the darkness, face lit up with a blue glow. His eyes sparkled as your gazes met, your palm hovering over his crotch. He lifted his hips a touch, brushing against you.

“No,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re just more interesting…”

He chuckled against your lips. “I definitely agree with that.”

Groaning, you went to lift your hand away but he snatched it back, pressing you into him, encouraging you to rub. With your tongues entwined, you soon felt his erection stirring, cock stiffening under his sweats.

It was a wonder you both heard the creak of the wooden floorboards in the hallway – but thankfully you did. Movements stilling, you pulled back. Eyes wide in question, you mouthed, “What was that?”

You both listened out for another noise, hearing the tell-tale sound of footsteps walking towards the movie room. “Arin,” Seokjin breathed, and just like that the moment was over. You broke apart, Seokjin rearranging his junk expertly (a round of applause) before he stood up.

On cue, a tiny voice sounded from behind the door. “Daddy?”

“Arin, sweetie, what is it?” He asked, walking over to pull it open.

Arin was stood there, looking perfectly wide awake hugging her rabbit plush. “I can’t get to sleep.”

“And why’s that?” Seokjin asked.

She ignored him completely, walking into the room. “What are you watching?”

“A grown-ups movie,” he replied, sounding amused. “Come on, let me take you back upstairs. Say goodnight to Y/N again.”

Arin whined loudly, turning to her dad. “But I can’t sleeeep!”

“Maybe she can stay up for a little while?” You suggested, looking over at Seokjin before you turned your attention to Arin. “Until you’re tired, hm, Arin?”

Her face lit up immediately. “I think that’s a great idea, Y/N.”

You laughed and Seokjin wasn’t close behind, bending down to squeeze Arin’s sides, playfully causing her to squeal. “Do you, little miss?” You met Seokjin’s gaze, both of you coming to terms with the fact your moment had been well and truly ruined. It was fine… You had later on tonight…

“It’s the weekend, she can stay up a little later than normal, no?” You asked with a smile.

“Fine,” he mock sighed, pretending to only give in right now.

Arin cheered in victory, rushing over to sit next to you on the sofa, cuddling in immediately. She had gotten what she’d came downstairs for. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, an action that had become more than normal these past couple of weeks. The more time you spent here, the closer you had become. You were no longer the teacher who had started dating her father. You were now his girlfriend, someone she saw regularly, someone she could laugh and joke around with. Someone she felt comfortable around, and vice versa. You were Y/N. Just as your relationship with Seokjin was growing and developing on the daily, so was your relationship with Arin. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Arin looked up at her father and grinned. “Can we watch another Disney movie, Daddy?”

As it happened, Arin didn’t last an hour before she was fast asleep between you both, softly snoring, her bunny fallen forgotten to her side. Deciding to head upstairs too, you followed Seokjin as he carried her to her room, stopping by the entrance to watch him lay her down and place a soft kiss to her forehead. You smiled to yourself, warmth flooding your chest at the touching scene in front of you before you both headed off for Seokjin’s room and began getting ready for bed.

Seokjin was lying on top of the mattress when you exited the bathroom, knowing you’d left your pyjamas in the closet somewhere. Only, the sight of him sprawled out in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, so casually sexy, had you suddenly distracted. In just your underwear, you viewed him from the end of the bedframe. “Where were we earlier?”

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know, I think I’m in a Disney Princess coma.”

Chuckling, you placed a knee on the bed. “You enjoyed yourself really.” Then your hands. Then your other knee. Slowly crawling towards him. “Do you want to enjoy yourself now?”

He immediately sat up, back against the headboard, his eyes falling to your cleavage. He smirked softly. “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

Ten minutes later you had him in your mouth, knelt to his side, ass facing him as he rubbed and massaged the flesh to his heart’s content. “You’re so good at this,” he praised, his fingers slipping into the side of your underwear teasingly. You sucked him deeper. “Fuck. So good. Baby, let me make you feel good too.” He removed his fingers and ran them along your ass, stopping at your entrance to rub. You were soaked through, could feel it yourself. He moaned. Either because of your tongue or because of what he felt. Maybe both. “So wet and you’re only sucking my cock.”

You slid your mouth off of him, running your fist up and down the solid and slippery length instead. He jerked his hips into your touch, chasing the pleasure. “Quit inflating your ego,” you quipped.

He chuckled, turning to his side as his fingers moved up to the waistband of your underwear. “Mm. Like this?”

You got the message loud and clear, letting him slide the fabric down your ass before settling down on your side too. You ran your fist over the tip of him as he rid you of your underwear altogether, wrapping his arms around your hips to angle your heat towards his mouth. You wriggled as you felt the first press of his tongue, earning you a quick, playful smack to the ass and after that you let him hold you tight, the tip of his tongue digging between your folds to flick against your clit.

You leaned forward, wanting to return the favour, and sucked him back into your mouth, the angle now making it easier to slip him deeper. You’d never done something like this together before, which was surprising in itself considering the sheer amount of times you’d been unable to keep your hands off each other these past three weeks. It was so erotic hearing him groan against you as he continued to pleasure you, your own moans vibrating down his cock as you both grew more eager, lost in the feeling.

He came first. It probably had something to do with the way you massaged his balls, concentrating on sucking the tip of him as his hips grew impatient and he began rocking into you. He moaned your name, mouth faltering, and all he could do was grip your ass tight as he felt his orgasm take over, grunting as you swallowed each drop.

“I win,” you gleed softly, pulling away from him to kiss down his softening length.

“Of course you do,” he murmured, sounding fucked out. “Fuck, I needed that.” Rolling onto his back, he ran his hands down your thighs. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

Moving to straddle him, you leaned in and kissed him hungrily, still very much horny, and tasting yourself on his lips didn’t help matters. His hands cupped your bare ass, spreading it slightly so he could run his fingers along your lips, so wet he was sinking in before he could realise.

You moaned, rocking into him and he cursed softly, pushing his head back into the pillows. He tugged you forward. “This way,” he got out, panting slightly, out of breath from the way you’d kissed him. You understood from the way he was lifting you up where this was going…

Moving up his body, your thighs were soon either side of his head. He wasted no time in lunging forward, mouth picking up where he left off. You held on to the headboard, careful not to press your entire body weight into him for fear of suffocating him. Not that he would mind, you thought… He was all over you, licking and kissing wherever he could reach, hellbent on tasting every inch of you, humming in enjoyment the entire time as you panted.

You kept your eyes on him, one of your hands moving to caress his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, his forehead on show as well as those deadly eyebrows of his, currently furrowed in determination. When his dark eyes flickered up to your face, you shuddered, moaning loudly. He loved it. It set him off.

“I love the way you taste so much,” he praised, pulling back to rub his thumb over your clit. You bucked into him, fluttering when he kissed the spot lovingly. “That right then,” he almost rasped. “It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while.”

In other circumstances you’d 100% shoot a witty comeback his way, but not now – definitely not now. Not when he was slipping two fingers inside of you right this instant. You were soon rubbing your hips into his face like a woman possessed, needing to feel his tongue again as you choked out a few extra moans.

“Honey, that’s it,” he encouraged with a long groan. “Ride me a little. You have no idea how much this turns me on. I could get hard all over again.”

Moaning, turned on by his words, you listened, relief flooding you when you felt the warmth of his tongue against your clit. You moved like you usually did when he had you spread on your back, grinding against his tongue, only this time you had a lot more control – and he seemed to love it, free hand digging into the side of your ass, the other dragging against your walls, making you tremble. With one hand clutching the headboard, the other in his hair you used the leverage to rock against him, the squelchy wet noises fuelling you further, until you were panting and out of breath, unable to take much more.

You lifted your hips a little, feeling your legs tremble like jello, and let Seokjin kiss the inside of your thighs, his fingers now shallowly fucking you as you attempted to catch your breath. “I love how wet and warm and soft you are,” he groaned. His lips brushed past your clit, breath fanning over you. “You really have the most amazing pussy.”

“Seokjinn,” you moaned, unable to stop from jerking against his face again. His mouth would be the death of you. He latched his lips against your clit, sucking the bud gently into his mouth over and over again. You were done for, sighs of pleasure rolling out of you as you stared down at him.

“Mmm, baby? You gonna cum?” He asked, stroking your walls deeper, pressing and curling as he went. You nodded, incoherent noises all you could manage as your thighs tightened. “All over my face?” He prompted.

You didn’t need much encouraging.

It was inevitable the need for condoms would become unnecessary soon enough. Which was a shame really, given Seokjin’s bargain hunting, but it wasn’t long before they became a bind – inconvenient, more so. That, and you wanted nothing more than to feel Seokjin bare inside of you, to be as close as physically possible, and nothing could be as close to feeling him come inside you. It had been a while since you’d been on birth control, years obviously, but highly organised and a bit of a control freak, you’d be damned if you ever forgot to pop that pill every goddam day.

The first time without a condom had been mind-blowing. You were under the impression sex with Seokjin couldn’t get better than it already was, but you were wrong – very wrong. You were home alone, Arin staying with her mom for the night and you were taking full advantage of the opportunity. Who needed dinner at a time like this? But Seokjin (who had now become reacquainted with his culinary skills) insisted on preparing a candlelit meal. It was almost reminiscent of your first time together entirely, Seokjin keen and eager to pull out all the stops, and you teased him to no end. Was coming inside you for the first time really that big of an occasion? His reply: Yes. Very much so yes.

Not an hour later, half your plates still full and too excited for no more than ten minutes of foreplay, you were both naked, sweaty and way beyond control. The bedsheets were rumpled, barely hanging onto the bed as you rolled around, the pungent smell of sex in the air, and in hindsight, you should’ve knocked the aircon on…

Not that you had time to think right now. You’d successfully gotten him onto his back, riding him into submission until all he could do was hold onto your breasts and meet each bounce with a roll of his hips. You clutched him to you, hands over his own as you concentrated on the burning pleasure travelling up your body. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time you’d been able to fuck with such abandon. Arin was obviously home 90% of the time and on the odd occasional Seokjin spent the night at your place, Soojung was there (maybe even Tae too), her bedroom right next to yours.

Seokjin’s hands soon found their way clamped to your hips, pushing you back a little so he could see himself as he thrust up into you. You cried out, the sound of his skin thudding against yours telling you just how hard and fast he was pounding into you. His eyes were glued to where your bodies met and he could see perfectly just how well you were soaking his dick, just how good you were taking it, stretching over his girth.

“I’m close,” he panted, hips stuttering. He slowed his pace, but kept the pressure, his cock getting deeper. You held on tightly to his thighs, anchoring yourself, your walls clamping down around him. He groaned, feeling every minute sensation without the latex barrier. “I’m so fucking close. Can’t wait to cum inside you.”

You moaned in response, holding eye contact with him, your face contorted with pleasure, and that seemed to set him off, your pants and sighs of pleasure happening in unison as he sped up one last time, ready to fill you with his cum. The veins in his neck burst as he grunted and his cock twitched, flesh scorching. He fucked you through each wave of his orgasm, holding you still, your body jerking with the force. In the back of your mind you realised come tomorrow morning you’d be sore as hell, but honestly, who cared?

Carried away, no longer able to think straight, his cock fell out of you with one awry thrust. He was growing flaccid anyway, sensitive, so it was impossible trying to push back inside of you. Which was sad because you were still a mess, warm with his cum and desperate for more relief. You plopped down on his thighs, your breasts rising up and down with each laboured breath and then Seokjin’s eyes caught something. Something seeping out of your body…

“Fuck.” He half moaned in amazement. “It’s dripping out.”

After that you didn’t have a moment to think. You were flat on your back before you could truly process his words, his fingertips circling your swollen entrance, smearing his cum in the process. You pulsed in anticipation, body greedy, and he gave it to you swiftly, plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned on impact, feet planted to the mattress as he started snapping his wrist, pushing his cum back into you.

“Baby, you drive me crazy.” He husked, sounding positively tormented. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you.” All you could do was moan in reply, walls squeezing around his digits as he coaxed you to orgasm. “I can feel it,” he grunted, pressing his body into yours, his mouth chasing for a kiss. Your tongues meshed together urgently, kiss sloppy, done in haste.

“Seokjinn…” Your voice was a whine and you clutched at his shoulders, closing your eyes when you felt his lips trail down your chin, moving southward, towards the valley of your breasts.

He growled as your body jerked, his tongue swirling around one of your hard nipples. “You’ve started something now. I’m gonna have to cum in you every single day.”

You were on fire. His words affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. “Don’t s-stop,” you implored, although if anything, he was snapping his wrist even faster now, fingers curved, hitting right where you needed. You moaned loudly. “You always make me feel so good. Mm. I’m-I’m… Fuck.”

Grunting, your curse ruining him, he made his way back to your mouth. You held him tightly, back stuck to the bed with sweat. “Cum, baby.” He told you. “Please.”

That sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rocking your body and he swallowed each one of your moans greedily, his fingers gradually slowing, easing you through your orgasm until he slid out. He pulled back with a drunken grin. “You’re so sexy.” Then he looked down your naked body, sighing in wonder. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Quit it!” You exclaimed with a laugh, whacking his shoulder. Still very much out of breath.

Summer continued to fly by, not long left now until you were back at school. As much as the prospect excited you, you couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. Having so much time off had worked out perfectly for your relationship with Seokjin, because even though he was still very much busy with work, you had all the free time in the world to match his schedule. It made you sad to realise there would be no more lunch dates. No more impromptu midweek movie nights. Actually, thinking about it, staying over during the weekday would probably be pretty impossible too – with all the lessons you’d have to plan and the work you’d need to score. In fact, you were about to be a hell of a lot busier from September onwards.

Seokjin reassured you as best he could. You’d fall into routine soon enough and things would work out. You could still meet up for lunch – he’d drive over and you’d eat in his car if needed, and you could still spend the night on a weekday. He’d wait patiently while you finished up work, make you dinner and then make sure you were asleep by 10pm. You appreciated the sentiment, he always did know how to cheer you up. Although his “Think of it this way, you left school single and now you’re going back with an incredibly kind and insanely sexy boyfriend. I’d call yourself lucky, if I was you.” wasn’t as treasured… He thought he was funny, but he wasn’t at all…

Still, you had two weeks left to go, there was no point being miserable over the inevitable. You’d had the best summer of your life, you were lucky. (Just not in the way Seokjin had implied…)

“I can’t wait to take this off you tonight,” Seokjin murmured against your ear as he zipped the back of your dress up, insinuation deep in his tone.

Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. “We can always skip tonight and go straight to the sex.”

Laughing heartily, he tapped your ass. “Nice try. There’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?” He ignored your grumbling and stepped away, reaching for his cufflinks on the bedside table. “It’s just a dinner, honey.”

“With a bunch of the country’s richest people,” you exclaimed, feeling sick all over again. Every few months or so Seokjin had dinner with a few of his colleagues. They brought their partners along, and this time Seokjin was ecstatic you would be joining him. You on the other hand were this close to hyperventilating.

“That’s a small exaggeration,” Seokjin scoffed, cufflinks now attached as he made his way back to you. He cupped your waist, tilting his head to the side with a smile. “Besides, your boyfriend is included in that bunch. Are you nervous around me to?”

“Shut it,” you muttered, reaching to straighten his bow tie. He looked amazing in his suit tonight, hair parted to the side. Skipping dinner seemed like an excellent idea… But when he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, you knew you couldn’t. Seokjin was looking forward to “showing you off.” (His exact words.) I’m not a trophy, you’d shot back, but of course you knew he hadn’t meant it like that. It was sweet actually. He was proud. And happy. And cute.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you hugged him close. He nosed your neck, humming happily before nipping a patch of skin with his teeth, growling playfully. “Seriously, I can’t wait to rip this dress off you.”

You squealed as he began to tickle your sides, trying to push him away. “Stop, you’ll crease it.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, easing up to gaze at you. “You’ll still look stunning. Always do.” The black floor-length dress you were in was nothing you were used to, and maybe that’s why your nerves were worse than what they should be but knowing Seokjin liked what he saw helped ease your reservations. How could it not? He always made you feel like a million dollars.

He was looking forward to tonight, so you should try to as well… You had nothing to worry about.

You really didn’t.

The night was a success. Despite your lives being vastly different, you got along with Seokjin’s colleagues well. They seemed like lovely people, especially the wife of Seokjin’s CFO. She was around your age, a couple of years older maybe, and you bonded over your favourite book series like a pair of nerds. You both left with a recommended reading list saved into your phones, numbers exchanged with plans of encouraging one another to read more. Seokjin was delighted you’d enjoyed yourself so much and you spent the chauffeured car journey to your place talking about the night.

Although, as soon as you got inside was an entirely different story altogether. It had already been pre-decided that Seokjin would spend the night with you, Misook babysitting Arin at his home, and you soon realised that he had not been messing around when he’d informed you he was going to rip the dress off you. You weren’t even up the stairs before he was attempting to unzip you, bumping his crotch into your ass with every step as he kissed your neck, blowing raspberries as he went.

“Shhh. Shush,” you giggled, trying your best to whisper successfully. “They may be still awake.” You knew Taehyung was staying over tonight too, he’d been here spread out on the couch before you’d left for Seokjin’s place this afternoon.

“Better get you to your room quickly then.” He said confidently, pouncing on you at the top step as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

You bit back a squeal, shoving your foot into his shin. “Seokjin!”

In the privacy of your bedroom, you shut the door tight, turning back to see your boyfriend already stripping out of his tux jacket. He didn’t have shoes on either and as you looked around for them, spotting nothing, you realised he must have kicked them off back downstairs. When?! He reached for you, running his hands down your curves before they settled on your ass. He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you. Your stomach stirred, only now realising exactly where tonight was heading. He really hadn’t been bluffing…

“Did I tell you how stunning you looked tonight?” He asked, popping his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt halfway. His collarbones sharp enough to cut, the outline of his chest clear enough to make you dribble.

You chuckled, although you could hear the aroused tremble so obviously. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He smiled your way, although it was more like a smirk, and stalked towards you. “Turn around.”

You obeyed in an instant. His fingers reaching for the zip of your dress. It was already halfway down – something you hadn’t realised. (He was obviously somewhat success back in the hallway.) As he revealed the expanse of your back he kissed the nape of your neck, gently pushing the straps over your shoulders to let the fabric slide down. With an expert snap he had your bra loose, removing that too, and it fell to the floor in front of you, hands reaching forward to cup your breasts, fingertips pinching your nipples. You moaned, disappointed when he moved, but then he started mouthing down your spine as he helped the dress along, surprising you when he crouched down, and then inevitably got on his knees, pushing the garment past your hips. He groaned when he saw your thong, lips parting to caress you with his tongue.

“You have the most perfect ass,” he gruffed against the skin, giving you a squeeze. “Have I ever told you that? Could worship it all night.”

Please, you wanted to murmur, but you held back, biting down on your lip as you felt him sink his teeth into one of your ass cheeks. What was with him tonight? You could already feel your arousal collecting between the small band of your panties. It wasn’t going to hold for long.

“Let’s get you out of this dress.” Despite his casual tone, he tugged the garment harshly, causing you to stumble at the sudden movement.

“Seokjin!” You chided lightly, clutching onto one of his hands now at your hip. “I still have my heels on, could’ve broken my ankle.”

“I was here to keep you safe,” he assured you with a chuckle, and then as an afterthought, “Maybe you could keep them on while we…”

You bumped your butt into his face, silently telling him to shut it, and kicked the footwear off, now able to remove your dress easily. Seokjin stood, spinning you to face him, mouth pressing into yours with haste. He kissed you passionately, wrapping his arms around you, holding you to him, your breasts pushed up against his chest. He was still clothed, but you could feel his erection pressing into your stomach. You wanted to touch it, but your hands were too busy caught up in his hair.

“Bed,” he panted up against your mouth, practically lifting you up to push you down on the mattress. You settled on your elbows, watching him as he tore open the rest of his shirt buttons, throwing the item to the floor, his well-defined torso now on full display.

He pounced on you, kissing you hungrily once more, so hungrily in fact, you needed to pull away to catch your breath. He moved to your cheek, wet kisses finding their way to your ear. Sensitive, you had to push him away with a hand to the chest. “Sorry, am I being too much?” He murmured, lips sticky.

You shook your head with a shaky giggle. “I just can’t keep up.”

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby.” His tone was reassuring, encouraging, and insanely sexy. He lifted your hips, scooting you up the bed to rest your head on the pillows. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” You watched him raise up on his knees, the clank of his belt making you pulse down below as he undid it. He unzipped his pants but made no effort to take them off, running his palm once along the curve of his length before he crawled over you. He placed a sweet kiss to your mouth, smiling as he pulled away. “Did you notice I didn’t go for dessert tonight?” Puzzled, you stayed silent waiting for him to explain. His smile widened, more of a grin now – a very amused one at that. “I was saving myself for something tastier.”

You scoffed. He was unbelievable, but it was easy to let him get away with such corny lines. Especially when he had you spread out near naked on your own bed. “Lame!” You exclaimed, immediately clamping your hand across your mouth. You needed to remember to keep quiet, Soojung and Taehyung were asleep next door, but you were feeling uncharacteristically unbothered tonight, too eager and excited.

He chuckled at your silliness. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard them have sex before. Think of it as payback.”

His nonchalance was pretty attractive so you let his words ease your mind. Although maybe it had more to do with the way he was trailing kisses down your stomach… He leaned back to spread your legs, already bent at the knee. You were pretty sure your thong was doing nothing to protect your modesty anymore.

He confirmed your assumption with a sharp intake of breath. “Honey, you’re soaking. I haven’t even done anything yet.” You braced yourself, waiting to feel the brush of his finger, but instead it was the softness of his tongue. He licked a strip up your clothed mound, a noise of delight rumbling from him. You pulsed uncontrollably, eager for more.

He gave it to you. Lips wrapping around your hidden clit, tongue laving, soaking the delicate material even more. Your legs instantly squeezed around his head, unsure what to do with the sudden influx of pleasure before you moaned, rocking your hips into him gently.

He eased away slightly, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing skilled circles that caused you to squelch. “Love your pussy so much,” he murmured, going back for more hastily.

You moaned again at his words, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you, but it wasn’t long before he was kissing back up your stomach, mouth now attaching itself to one your nipples. Your hands flew to the back of his head, looking down at him as he flicked the bud with his tongue, moaning as he did so. It was such an erotic sight you felt speechless, and when his chocolatey brown eyes met yours, pooling with desire, you felt beside yourself.

“Turn around.” He whispered, roughly. “On your knees for me?”

You had never listened so fast in all your life, scrabbling on your hands and knees in record time. You waited as patiently as you could, ass in the air, anticipating his next move. You startled when you felt a puff of air against your entrance, the sound of Seokjin’s sticky lips loud in your ears. “You look so good in this thong,” he praised, snapping the thin line of fabric between your ass.

Pushing into him, you smirked. “I wore it just for you.”

He hummed – in contemplation almost – before he pulled your panties to the side and dove straight in with his mouth. You yelped, ducking your head at your volume. You’d been expecting him to go straight to the sex, not continue to eat you out. He’d never done it in this position before – it felt amazing. A noise dragged from his throat as he pulled away, fingers dipping under the sides of your panties to drag them over your ass impatiently. As he did so, he bit into your ass, his hands now spreading your thighs, exposing you more so he could bury his face between your legs.

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue but nothing could prepare you for the pleasure he was about to inflict on you. He flicked his tongue out against your clit, nose and mouth pressed flush against your heat, hands rooted to your ass and you moaned right away, bucking into him instinctively. Unable to hit your clit as well as he usually could he slid his mouth along your slit, tongue beginning to lick at your entrance, sucking your inner lips gently into his mouth as he did so. You were soaking, could feel yourself starting to drip down the inside of your thighs, but Seokjin didn’t seem to have a care in the world, lapping you up as if he was a man dying of thirst, rough moans letting you know just how much he was enjoying himself – enjoying you.

When you felt his tongue push inside you, you jolted, sensation instantly making your thighs squeeze together. Not that they could with Seokjin hunched between them. He began to experimentally push in and out of you, noticing the way you tensed around him and hearing the way your breathing got shallower. Wordlessly, his hand reached forward, around your thigh to hook between your legs and start rubbing your clit with his fingers. With his other hand he gently (but firmly) pushed down at the small of your back, your ass rising higher, giving him better access to keep fucking you with his tongue. With the added stimulus you could feel yourself breaking, knees trembling, pushed hard against the mattress. He felt so warm, and wet, and just incredible. Your moans got more frequent, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“That feels so good.” You managed to choke out, your orgasm so close you could taste it. That’s usually when you gabbled. “Right there. Don’t stop!” He listened, speeding up his movements, the squelch getting louder as he grunted in exertion. He sounded so hot it just turned you on even more, and you lifted your ass higher, pushing into each thrust of his tongue. He rubbed your clit desperately, determined to push you ever the edge.

You gasped, unsure how else to stay quiet as more words rushed out of you. “Seokjin–! I’m going to– Oh, my god, I’m coming!” Burying your face into the pillows your moans turned muffled as you came, white hot pleasure bursting through your veins. So sated, you couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed with how loud he’d just made you orgasm.

His finger moved away first, clit pulsing against nothing as he massaged the round of your ass instead, coating you in your own arousal, before his tongue eased off, placing a delicate kiss to your entrance as a goodbye.

The mattress shifted under his weight as he moved back a couple of inches and you heard him slide his belt out of the trouser loops, the sound flying straight to your core. He stripped behind you quickly, you couldn’t even bring yourself to take a peek, too dazed, yet your imagination worked quite well. Instead, you kept kneeling for him, waiting for his return.

He wasn’t even a minute. You felt the warmth of his dick press against the small of your back as he made his way closer once again.

“Are you ready for me?” Despite the deepness of his voice – how obviously he was affected – you could hear the care in his tone as he checked in on you.

“So ready,” you insisted, jutting into his thighs.

He chuckled, pushing his dick between your legs now, sliding it across your slit. You were still sensitive, squirming against him, but you were also still so greedy, so you let him do what he wanted, soaking his cock along your wetness unhurriedly. You were so distracted by his movements, the smack he suddenly landed on your ass had you yelping more so from shock than sting. If you weren’t so drunk with pleasure right now you’d chew him out for being so loud.

“Did that hurt?” He asked curiously, voice dripping danger. You felt your gut squeeze. That was new. He’d slapped your ass before but never with that much intent. The sting melted into your skin as he massaged the spot. “Mm, baby?” He pressed, voice now dripping honey. “Do you like pain?” He spanked you again but this time you were ready, biting down on your lip. “Like it when I’m mean to you?”

You nodded, some type of agreeing noise leaving your throat which seemed to appease him. He rubbed your ass soothingly, the head of his cock now dragging across your entrance. How he had this much patience was beyond you. You could not relate.

“Quit teasing.” You whined. Put it in me.”

“Don’t be a brat, honey.” He chuckled, but he pushed ever so slightly into you. He let out a sharp exhale, starting to fuck you shallowly with the tip, hands at his sides. You squeezed around nothing, flinging your head back frustratingly. “Seokjin!” You wanted him to fuck you. And touch you.

Chuckling again, throatily, he pushed an inch deeper. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you. “I want to antagonise myself. Shush.” But he gripped your ass, pulling you apart slightly to slowly push inside of you all the way. You both groaned with the drag, taking a breather as you squeezed around him, getting used to the feeling. You always felt so full in this position, trembling around his crazy big dick.

Soon he began to move, sliding in and out of you with intense concentration. You couldn’t see him but you knew his gaze was welded to where your bodies met, watching himself disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re the tease, Y/N,” he murmured, picking up the pace. You could hear yourself squelching around his girth. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He felt you pulse and his breath hitched.

Bunching the meat of your ass in his fists, he pounded into you for a few moments, holding you still, making you take it. You whimpered, trying your best to stay quiet. “Always take my cock so well. Don’t you, baby?”

“Ye-ess.” Your voice broke, a moan tearing through you as he rammed himself deep inside , stopping dead. “Fuck, Seokjin.” You were burning up. You needed him to move before you sobbed.

With precision, he started fucking you slowly, bottoming out each time, revelling in your warmth, your wetness. It was so intense your eyes started to water, trying your best to stay as silent as possible but each breath was sounding more and more like a moan. You could hear yourself squelching around him every time he moved. So could he.

“I love that,” he said, voice tight, as if he was trying his best to keep calm. “I’m gonna cum so deep in you tonight. Fill you up good.”

You moaned loudly this time. It was always hot to hear your well-spoken boyfriend fall off into the deep end, articulation deteriorating with each thrust. It turned you on like no tomorrow. “Please do,” you urged, walls clamping around him at the very thought.

He lost it at that, begging with your words and your body, and it wasn’t long before his movements were speeding up, his hips snapping against your ass as he held it tight. “Can you cum again?” He sounded frantic.

“M-maybe – oh.” You jolted, feeling Seokjin’s fingers at your clit.

“I really want you to cum again for me.” His fingers became persistent, rubbing circles against your sensitivity.

Holding your breath, you concentrated. On each thrust, how good his dick was, how the motions on your clit felt. Everything… You willed your second orgasm, feeling it start to be pulled out of you. You started to meet each of his thrusts, skin slapping as your sweaty bodies worked together. “Yes, yes, yes, yes–!” You urged with each thud, so close you were trembling. Your voice broke as the sensation took over, moan turning into a squeak as you tried to shut up.

This time your orgasm was shorter, but it didn’t make it any less intense. In fact, it immediately exhausted you. “Shit. Fuck.” You mumbled, pretty much collapsing into the bed, Seokjin wedged deep inside you.

“You feel different.” He groaned. You felt him twitch. “Love that feeling.” Ever so carefully, he drew back, hands gliding along your back. “I’m okay to finish?”

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to press your cheek to the pillow. You jutted your ass out, feeling him slide back in almost involuntarily, your tightness calling him back. “Be quick though.” You were tired – and sensitive. Still horny though…

He found that amusing, chuckling throatily. “I promise you I will. I’m so fucking close.” He pulled back again, grunting. He was taking his time, easing you into it. “Ngh. I’m almost too big for you now. You’re squeezing so much.”

You moaned in reply, loving the way he held your hips firm and rolled into you, slowly fucking you into the mattress.

“Tell me how much you’re loving it,” he pretty much pleaded, ever so slightly speeding up.

“I love it so much.” You professed. “You have n-no idea.” You jerked forward as he hit deep, crying out. “Seokjinn! Please. Go a little faster.”

He grunted, sounding smug. “You want my cum.” You moaned in reply. “Say it for me.” He demanded. “Please, baby, say it for me.”

“I want your cum,” you moaned.

And that was enough. With a strangled cry he began to snap his hips faster and faster, fucking you hard, chasing his end. It didn’t take long. A minute later he rammed himself deep, stiffening as he came inside you, groan of relief loud as all the tension left his body. “Shit.” He muttered, collapsing on top of you, careful not to press his full body weight into you.

He held your shoulders, nuzzling into you as he slid to your side. You used what was left of your energy to turn around, letting him smother you with kisses. “That was… I don’t know what came over me.” He exclaimed.

“It was amazing,” you gushed, running a hand down his sticky chest. You could spot your arousal, now dried to his face, his hairline damp with perspiration. You leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when he began to laugh. You looked at him puzzled.

“You want my cum,” he gleed.

“Get lost!” You groaned, pushing him away. He rolled onto his back, his chest still rising visibly as he caught his breath.

“I need the bathroom,” he announced, standing and looking around. “My bag? I thought Misook said she dropped it off for me?”

Sitting up, you glanced around. “Maybe Soo left it downstairs.” She’d probably thought you’d spot it by the door when you arrived home. You’d been too distracted… “Wear my robe.” You suggested.

“That?” Seokjin questioned, looking sceptically at the pink fluffy nightgown hooked onto your closet door.

“Why not? You’ll look cute.”

“True,” he agreed, turning to reach for it.

“Nice ass.” You had a great view from here.

“Hey,” he whined, throwing the robe on quickly to hide his modesty.

“What, you have a really nice ass for a forty year old!” You insisted.

He clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just rude.”

You giggled as he left, calling out a not very believable sorry after him. A few minutes later you heard Soojung’s door open, footsteps in the hallway and then, voices. Taehyung and Seokjin’s. They’d bumped into each other. You laughed to yourself, imagining how awkward it must be for them right now. Amazing. Twenty seconds later Seokjin and your fluffy robe were shooting through the door.

“Oh, my god.” Seokjin grimaced. “That was so awkward. Taehyung wanted the bathroom as I was leaving.”

“I heard,” you chuckled, amused by your boyfriend’s unnecessary mortification.

He laid on the bed, groaning. “We had to small talk. He was in his boxers… I think he knew we’d just had sex.”

“Yeah, he probably heard us too…”

Seokjin made a noise of discomfort. He wasn’t so sure of himself now, was he? You rolled your eyes and reached for him, gathering the collar of your gown in your hands to kiss him. You grinned. “You look really sexy in my pink fluffy gown.”

He hummed against your mouth, “I know, right?” He didn’t need persuading when you pulled him over you, untying the middle of the robe before pushing the fluffy garment over his broad shoulders. His dick was soft, but he was eager if the way he kissed you was anything to go by. It made you feel guilty when you inevitably pushed him away, robe victoriously clutched in your arms.

“Where are you going?” He whined, watching you stand.

You slipped into the nightgown, smiling cutely. “I need to pee.”

When you woke up the next morning there was a text waiting for you from your beloved best friend…

Soojung (08:12am) Tae just told me he woke up and heard you guys having s e x last night Then he bumped into Seokjin who was wearing ur robe I’m glad I’m a heavy sleeper But he said it sounded like you were having a GREAT time 😏 Dilf got movesss 😳

The embarrassment!

Today was a very important day, according to one little person. Arin’s seventh birthday. She’d mentioned it almost every single day since August had arrived. Seokjin had worked really hard organising her a garden party, inviting all their family and friends, including a couple of her friends from school. You were a bit nervous about that, knowing you’d be met with a few curious questions but there were more pressing issues at hand... You were about to meet Seokjin’s parents for the first time. (As well as numerous other members of his family, but a girl could only worry about so many things at once.)

He’d already met your family a couple of weeks previous – joining you for lunch with your mom one afternoon and then accompanying you for dinner at your father’s house a few days later. Seokjin had taken it in his stride, so even if he was a little nervous he never once showed it. He was good at that, you admired him for that. You on the other hand were this close to breaking out into a nervous sweat.

You were thankful Arin had you preoccupied all morning, insisting on helping Misook and you put up the decorations for her own birthday party. Helpful as always, although be it a little buzzed. Scrap that, a lot buzzed. She was still on a high from celebrating her birthday with her mom for a couple of days. She’s only gotten back yesterday afternoon, and that’s when Seokjin had surprised her with two pet rabbits – one snowy white, the other midnight black. Her excitement levels were through the roof today. Seokjin had called you this morning informing you he’d been woken up at 5am and he needed your assistance ASAP because he couldn’t handle a hyperactive birthday girl all on his own the entirety of the morning…

By 1pm some of the guest had already started arriving; Seokjin’s brother and his wife, along with their two twin boys who were a couple of years younger than Arin. Aunts and uncles, and a few cousins, Seokjin’s friend Namjoon, who had two children; a 9 year-old daughter and a four year-old son, and then a few of Arin’s friends, some from various clubs she attended and two you recognised from school. They recognised you too of course, and you overheard Arin adorably telling them that you were her “daddy’s girlfriend.” No matter how much time past, and no matter how natural this all felt now, you were still so happy that Arin was on board with all this. It was the best feeling.

Seokjin’s parents were the last to show up seeing as they lived quite far away, and you waited nervously to meet them as your boyfriend took their luggage upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Meeting his brother and his friend and the rest of his family hadn’t been bad at all, so you were feeling very optimistic by now. Still, you could hear your heart beating frantically when you saw Seokjin leading them into the kitchen where you were blowing some last minute balloons.

“You must be Y/N,” his mom greeted with a smile, arms wide as she walked towards. With a quick embrace she kissed you on the cheek. Seokjin had warned you about that.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you,” you smiled back, relaxing slightly down to her warm attitude. (It also helped Seokjin had taken place by your side, arm brushing against yours.) You glanced towards his father, greeting him with the same smile and he gave you a nod, a friendly “Likewise,” leaving his lips. Seokjin had also let you know that his father was the silent, polite type. Seokjin was similar. They even looked quite alike. His mom was slim and elegant, and incredibly beautiful.

“You’re even prettier than your pictures,” she informed you, taking your hands in hers.

“Pictures?” You chuckled nervously, glancing up at Seokjin.

He groaned quietly. “I may have sent her a couple of us together. My mom’s very nosey. Dad not so much.”

“Oh,” you blurted, hearing his father laugh. You smiled coyly back at Mrs. Kim. “Thank you.”

“Nonsense. I’m not nosey,” she insisted, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Curious, I’d call it.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Of course, mom – Oh!” Something caught his attention out of the window and he rushed off, opening the sliding glass door to stick his head out. “Arin, your grandparents have arrived. Come say hi.”

Mrs. Kim let go of your hands as Arin came dashing in like a hyper puppy. “Grandma! Grandpa!” She squealed, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms. “It’s my birthday!”

“Is it?” He asked, playing clueless, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. “Of course it is!” He kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.”

“Happy birthday, Arin. Are you having fun so far?” Her grandma asked, fluffing her hair. Arin went to hug her next. “What gifts did you get? We have yours in the car, but you have to wait until later, okay?”

Arin nodded, before proceeding to talk all about her day. She didn’t come up for air, which was highly amusing for all four of you. However, inevitably, she got bored, her hand slipping into yours, tugging it gently for your attention. “Y/N, can we go and see if the buffet is ready now?”

“Of course we can.” You glanced at your watch, then up at Seokjin who was doing the same. It was half past two, you’d agreed to start eating at 3pm. Arin’s senses were perfect.

“No sneaking anything off the table, young lady.” Seokjin told her. “Especially not cake. You won’t have to wait long.”

Arin couldn’t help but giggle at that, already beginning to drag you off.

You were on your way back from the lower floor bathroom when you bumped into Seokjin’s mother again. She was stood by the dining room entrance, rooting around in her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “Oh, Y/N, dear, I was just getting my phone so I could take a few pictures of Arin. I need to show them to my mother. She’s a bit too old to make the journey down here.”

“Awh, that’s a shame,” you replied, coming to a halt politely.

With a nod, she changed the subject. “I’m so glad the weather is hot for her birthday.”

“I know. She’s been so excited, hasn’t been able to stop talking about it for the past month,” you laughed. The party had been a success, the food and games going down a treat. It had been a long time since you’d attended a child’s birthday party – your siblings were long past that age, and you’d forgotten how fun they could be, even if you were much older now.

Being surrounded by Seokjin’s family wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d initially thought. They were all so lovely – not that you didn’t expect anything less, of course, you were just thankful you could hold a natural conversation with his mom.

“She really likes you. I can tell.” Mrs. Kim said out of the blue, surprising you, but you tried to hide it well.

Smiling softly, you replied, “I’m fond of her too.”

“I heard you were her teacher?”

“For a short while.” You nodded. “That’s how Seokjin and I met.” But you guessed she already knew that, you know, mother’s curiosity and all.

Her mouth quirked up and then she snorted. “My son definitely knows how to make an impression. I heard he hit your car?”

Laughing, you’d been correct. He had told her how you’d met. “Yeah, but I try not to tease him too much about that anymore.”

“It sounds like fate, no?” She smiled, before shaking her head and raising a hand. “Sorry, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The first time my husband and I set eyes on one another it was love at first… You probably don’t want to hear about that,” she chuckled. You opened your mouth, ready to disagree, but she spoke again. “I just… I haven’t seen Seokjin this happy in a very long time. Not since Arin was born.”

Speechless, you tried to think of something to say. Just what? “Oh, I –”

“What are you two conspiring about in here?”

You heard Seokjin’s voice from behind you and turned to see him walking towards you both with a grin on his face. When he reached you he cupped your waist, kissing you on the cheek. His mom watched on fondly.

“Nothing… much,” she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. It caught his attention. “I was just telling Y/N that I haven’t see you this happy in years.”

“Mo-mm,” he whined, immediately growing red.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth, Seokjin,” she laughed and looked in your direction. “He gets embarrassed so easily. Have you noticed?”

“I have,” you laughed along.

Smiling tenderly at him, she stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’ve loved hearing my son laugh all afternoon.” Seokjin dropped his head, even more embarrassed now. He was cute. “Okay.” She clapped her hands, taking pity on him. “That’s enough from me. I’ll leave. Your father’s probably on his third slice of cake by now…” Kissing Seokjin’s cheek softly, she began to walk off. “You love me really.”

“Of course,” Seokjin called, turning to you once she’d left, heading back in the direction of the garden. “Sorry about that.”

You chuckled. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were just talking.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him. “You’re cute.”

“You’re never too old to be embarrassed by your mom,” he muttered, kissing the top of your head. Snorting, you leaned back, but he held you tight, gazing into your eyes. “You look really pretty today.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your lips, stopping any clever remark you may have had dead.

Instead, as he pulled away, you brought your hands up to his chest, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Let’s get back outside. I’m enjoying myself.”

“I’m glad.” Seokjin beamed, eyes twinkling.

At that moment, it hit you how happy he looked… You’d not really noticed it prior, but now his mom had pointed it out it was so obvious.

You hoped he could tell just how happy you were too… It was all down to him, after all.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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saintshigaraki · 4 years ago

Text

won’t you give me your cruelest smile

↳ DARK ACADEMIA TSUKISHIMA KEI

pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k

excerpt:

He makes no move to get up as he watches you pack. “You really don’t like me, do you?” He sounds far too pleased for your liking.

“No one likes you,” you snap back, stuffing the last heavy tome in your bag and shouldering it. “You’re an ass.”

a/n: @yamagucji said dark academia tsukki and my brain quite literally short circuited

tags: enemies-ish to lovers (more like academic rivals to lovers), tsukki being an annoyingly smart condescending history major, reader goes through the five stages of grief when they realize they might actually li- 🤢 like him, a reference to the classic ‘ooooh you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid’

If there is a single, minuscule, barely visible silver lining in having Tsukishima as a partner for your quarter project it is that, without a doubt, he is smart.

You have to admit, begrudgingly, that his intellect borders on genius-level which is something you use as silent proof to attest to your working theory that there is in fact, no god, or at the very least not a kind one, because if there was they wouldn’t be blessing gremlins like the one sitting across from you with a gift like that.

He’s quiet now (after about an hour of telling you all the ways your interpretation was oh so very wrong) and content to stare at you lazily, his eyes half-lidded and filled with his specific brand of cruel amusement that leaves you wanting to do nothing more than smack his black-rimmed glasses right off his smug face.

You take a deep breath and try desperately to quell the utterly unique type of rage he elicits in you, although as always, nothing you do ever quite manages to bring your boiling blood to a simmer.

He’s twirling his expensive black pen between his stupidly long fingers. Every once in a while the light catches on the onyx stone of his pinky ring which somehow manages to flash directly in your eyes every time. He notices, of course. He notices everything. Which makes you think he’s doing it on purpose just to be an ass.

Which, admittedly, is perfectly in line with everything else he does so, you come to the frustrating conclusion that he most definitely is doing it on purpose.

“You’re embarrassingly easy to rile up,” he says, interrupting your silent seething, his voice deep and smooth and absolutely dripping with condescending satisfaction.

Your eyes flash up from the book you’d been only barely processing just to be met with his own golden-brown ones. He’s smirking down at you, of course. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear any other sort of expression.

You want nothing more than to glare at him but that would just be proving his point so instead, you snap your book shut. It rings out loudly in the empty library.

“It’s late. Let’s start this backup tomorrow.”

He makes no move to get up as he watches you pack. “You really don’t like me, do you?” he sounds far too pleased for your liking.

“No one likes you,” you snap back, stuffing the last heavy tome in your bag and shouldering it. “You’re an ass.”

He tilts his head back, exposing his long neck, and laughs. It’s so deep you feel it in your own chest. You just barely manage to suppress a shiver, which thank fuck, because he would’ve most definitely noticed it and you don’t think you’d be able to live that down.

You make your way towards the front doors but not before he manages to slip on his wool coat and catch up to you, with ease of course, his long legs have become your number one enemy over the quarter because he always, always, catches up with you when you try to speed walk away from him.

The autumn chill immediately settles into your bones, your skin prickles unpleasantly. You can see your breath in the night air. A shitty end to a shit day.

You both head down the cobbled street in strangely comfortable silence. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat he radiates and you’re silently thankful for it.

You get to the fork in the path where he takes his way back to his dorm and you take yours but instead of peeling off left like he usually does he sticks to your side.

You stop immediately and eye him up warily. “What are you doing?”

He rolls his eyes. “Asking idiotic questions doesn’t really suit you, you know.”

You say nothing, content to narrow your eyes.

He rolls his eyes again and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m walking you home, try not to be a brat about it.”

“You never walk me home,” you point out, suspiciously.

“You are rather good at pointing out the very obvious, aren’t you?” and before you can respond he already had turned on his heels and started walking. You have to half jog to catch up.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye with the intent of trying to read his motive but you get stuck on the fact that his cheeks are flushed rather prettily from the cold.

“You sure do love to stare, don’t you?” he asks rather conversationally.

You’ve never wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole more in your entire life. Your cheeks burn hot even in the frigid cold.

He notices. Of course he does. What does Tsukishima Kei not notice?

“No need to be embarrassed,” he needles cruelly. “Denial can be a brutal beast.”

You only barely manage to stop yourself from asking what exactly he means by that, what exactly he thinks you’re in denial about.

But you know he wants nothing more than for you to ask so you take a sweet sort of satisfaction in not questioning him further, at least on that front.

The rest of the walk back to your dorm is spent in less comfortable silence than before. There’s an odd sort of tension in the air, like a rope pulled so tight you can physically feel it starting to fray, getting ready to snap.

It comes to a head when, after getting to your building, instead of immediately going inside you find yourself looking down and shuffling your feet.

You know you should thank him, even if you didn’t ask him to walk you home. You guys never worked this late, you’d lost track of time (it’s scarily easy to lose track of time when arguing with Tsukishima) and you know it was nice of him to walk you home when he’d have to double back another 15 minutes in the freezing cold to get to his place.

You know you should thank him. It’s the reasonable, polite thing to do. But it’s just so fucking hard to be reasonable and polite when Tsukishima Kei and his galaxy-sized ego are involved. No one in your entire life has been able to get under your skin as he has. It’s like he was perfectly crafted to be your own personal headache.

You brave a glance up at him and find that he’s standing very, very close and staring, rather intensely, at you. A curiously amused gleam in his eye.

Your mind stutters and then stops completely, going painfully blank.

He’s so stupidly pretty.

His skin is flawless, you’ve never once seen him with even a single pimple, his hair is the nicest pale-blond you’ve ever seen and it falls in perfect tufts against his forehead, but it’s his eyes that always make you shift from foot to foot. They’re such a unique shade of golden-brown, and now, shrouded in the dark and mere inches away from your own face, you’d swear on your life they were practically glowing.

“You’ve got something on your mind?” he asks, his tone anything but sweet. He’s so close you can smell the warm spice of his cologne and the ever-clinging scent of ancient books that seems to follow him wherever he goes.

“I-” but you can’t seem to put together a coherent sentence. You don’t think you’ve ever hated someone so much in your life.

Somehow, he’s managed to push in even closer. “You know what I think?”

No, you want to say, and I don’t want to know. Your heart is beating far too fast and you can’t explain why.

(You know exactly why)

“I think you want to kiss me.”

And just like that the rope snaps and you’re viciously tugging him down by the collar of his too-nice coat so you can smash your lips against his.

The kiss is brutal. Far too mean with too much teeth. At one point you taste the sting of iron and you can’t tell if the blood is his or yours.

He backs you up against a wall without breaking the kiss. When he bites at your lip, no doubt cutting it open, you grab a fist full of his hair and tug cruelly and his responding groan tastes so sweet on your tongue.

He doesn’t pull away until your lungs are screaming for air.

He’s inches away from you, pupils blown wide, lips swollen (and a little bloody), and his hair is a mess. It’s the most out of sorts you’ve ever seen him.

If you thought he was pretty before, he’s absolutely beautiful now.

His smirk widens into a full blown smile and you understand now why he doesn’t show it often. It shows too many teeth, it’s downright wolfish. Predatory, even.

You don’t really have time to think on it though before he pulls you into another bruising kiss.

have some dark academia tsukishima headcanons while you’re here

he is without a doubt the most pretentious asshole you will ever meet and and you will HATE yourself for eventually finding him weirdly charming in any capacity

he is, of course, a history major which. if you have ever met pretentious male history majors you will know that this means he is a literal walking, talking, annoyingly tall headache

interrupts professors constantly. does it like he’s getting paid. will argue and argue and argue with them without that dumb condescending smirk ever, ever managing to slip off his face

(the worst part is, he’s honestly probably making a good point most of the time. but you’d quite literally rather die than admit that to him)

he is always walking around campus lazily flipping through leather bound books so old they’re cracked precariously at their spines, all on different ancient civilizations. you’d think that’d mean he’d be running into people but the student body collectively parts like the red sea for him which sets your teeth on edge.

he’s unbelievably arrogant and the worst part is its not baseless like you find yourself so desperately wishing it was

he IS smart, wickedly so. disgustingly, cruelly intelligent and he will use it to pick you apart piece by piece while that stupid fucking smirk stays glued on his face.

(you start to seriously question whether or not he’s even human because how can anyone keep the same, perfectly calculated expression for that long?)

always looks like he stepped straight out of some dark alternate universe vogue photoshoot with his constant rotation of black turtlenecks, long coats, and oxford loafers all tied together by the same 5 rings he’s never seen without, two of which are set with hefty onyx stones

you will be unlucky enough to be paired up with him for a project that will take all quarter long and multiple meet ups a week. when your professor announced your partner, you genuinely consider dropping the class and when you find out you wouldn’t be able to drop the class without switching majors, you genuinely consider switching majors

you don’t. and by the end of the quarter you’re really starting to question whether that was a good thing or not

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq!!#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #hq #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #tsukishima scenarios #you think thats enough tags lmaoooo #vicwrites #vicwriteshq

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jaeminzie · 4 years ago

Text

lion boy | l.mh

↳ mark lee x fem!reader

synopsis: you would never ruin your slytherin image by exposing your crush on the gryffindor head boy. but for mark lee, you’d put it into consideration.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,074

a/n: a new series hehe, i’ve been procrastinating on this but i’m rlly proud with how it turned out ! mark lee best boy sigh ( also happy holidays :] )

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

“can you quit your act already?” your best friend pulled you through the hallways so powerfully causing both of your green robes to flap everywhere, gaining some raised eyebrows from the paintings surrounding your moving bodies. you continued to wince as her grip on your wrist became tighter and her strides became faster, you swear her heavy foot stomps could be heard throughout the castle.

you huffed in annoyance. your best friend has been side eyeing and sighing throughout the entirety of herbology whenever you spoke, but now she decides to speak to you. “what are you on about?” you let out a deep breath once she lets go off your wrist when you reached the restroom. thankfully, it was empty so no one can see you absolutely destroy your friend after she just destroyed your bones from dragging you too hard. “no need to drain all our energies, y/f/n, just talk to me.” you snapped but added a tad bit of sincerity, while dusting your robe.

she stood there, arms crossed and tapping her foot on the tile while watching you with grimace in her eyes. “infuriating, you are.”

“i’m quite aware, thank you very much.” you clicked your tongue and turned to the sink next to you to wash your sweaty hands, not sparing a glance at your friend stood in front of you.

the clicking sound on the tiles stopped and you could see her arms dropping by her sides in the corner of your eye. “you know i love you, right?” despite the wholesome meaning of her words, the way it sounded off her tongue seemed a different story.

breathlessly chucking at your friend, “you have an absurd way of showing it, but yes. i’m also aware of that.” you sighed, wiping your hands on your robe which made your friend cringe as she saw the water streaks appear on the ‘special’ robe.

“you’re the one to talk.” her arms made their way back up against her chest all crossed.

you furrowed your eyebrows so much that you could feel a headache coming. “okay now, what are you talking about?”

“always so oblivious, y/n.” she brought up her hand to tuck in a piece of your hair behind your ear, making you slap her hand away. “get out of my face before i hex you, mark lee.” she mimicked your voice and giggle using an obnoxiously high pitched tone. “you really need to work your on flirting skills.”

your face softened at the mention of his name, and began to heat up once your friend noticed the change in emotion in your eyes. you quickly replied before she could further taunt you, “saying that i want to hex someone means that i’m flirting with them? make it make sense.” you paused to roll your eyes. “and i don’t giggle.” you scoffed, trying your hardest to stop yourself from blushing.

“if you really do despise that boy like how you claim you do, you would’ve done it by now.” she poked your cheek with the tip of her wooden wand. “but you haven’t.” she smirked at you, waiting for the response she wanted but she was not going to get it out of you. at least, not that easily. after a good portion of silence, she dropped her smirk and waved her arms up in the air. “oh my god, just say you like him!”

“i am not saying i like a-“ you whisper, “-a gryffindor.” your friend rolled her eyes at your immaturity. “but is it really that obvious? do you think he’s noticed?”

and her smirk that you wanted to slap away made another appearance. “god no, lee has got to be the biggest dimwit of the school. i can’t believe he’s head-boy of gryffindor.”

you glared at her. “please, he’s not the biggest dimwit if you’re around.” you smiled at the satisfying reaction she gave. “it’s all out of love, babe.” you caressed her hair and reassured her since you were slightly fearing your life after the look she flashed you.

you began to walk out with your friend stomping behind you, clearing still frustrated as her plan didn’t go her way. though she wasn’t about to give up that easily, she needed both you and mark to stop rejecting your obvious feelings toward each other.

though, what both of you failed to hear were the giggles echoing in the bathroom. it seems like your best friend doesn’t have to work so hard for her plan to work.

—

it was a tiresome day and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your common room and relax with your peers. the whole day you’ve gotten weird looks and quick glances from people who you didn’t know even existed. you weren’t phased by it. as a slytherin, it wasn’t uncommon to get odd looks from the new students since they don’t know any better and stereotype. though, it seemed like everyone was looking.

a free period is all you needed, and that is what you had at the moment. using the precious time wisely, you chose the middle courtyard to spend time by yourself in. you walked your way to the area humming your favorite tune since you can finally get a break, then making yourself comfortable on the grass. sighing contently, you took in the fresh air and admired the greenery surrounding you before pulling out your potions book to study before attending after your free period.

being so focused on the words on the book that you barely understood, you didn’t notice the sudden shade casted upon you before hearing someone clear their throat from above you. you turned your head up to that someone — mark lee.

“uh hi,” he croaked. “free period?”

you laughed at the boy, making sure it sounded more like a scoff rather than a giggle. “yes.” you went back to reading the book laid on your lap, ignoring the boy dressed in red. you could honestly barf at how dashing he manages to look in that horrid color.

you could slightly see him fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to say some words, making your heart flutter. “oh same.” you made sure your hair covers majority of your face before smiling at his dry response. he was trying so hard but to him, it wasn’t enough. to you, it was enough to make you feel nauseous over how adorable he was being. god, your best friend would pay to see this moment. you rolled your eyes when you realized that you’d have to share what’s currently happening to your friend later. then she’d finally brag over how she was right all along, never ceasing a moment to use the fact that you’re head over heels over a lion boy against you. but there was nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to mark lee.

“what do you need?” you continued to flip the pages of the damaged book because you couldn’t show your tomato face just yet.

“okay uh-“ he cleared his throat. “i just wanted to inform you that there are rumors going around.”

“about?” you sounded completely uninterested in the topic which surprised mark. you became disappointed since you had hoped that he came to talk to you because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated to. you guess that’s what happens when you aren’t the sweetest to the boy you’ve liked for years.

“apparently, moaning myrtle heard your conversation with y/f/n earlier today and she’s been telling every girl who enters the loo.” he spoke cautiously, trying not to press the wrong buttons of yours.

you felt your heart race. though, you weren’t sure if it was out of nervousness or excitement. maybe both? yes both. you could feel the beating of your heart throughout your whole body and you hoped that mark couldn’t hear how embarrassingly loud it was. you stayed silent until you managed to piece yourself together enough to look at him. “and you’re telling me this because....?”

his voice cracked. “i don’t know. maybe because...” and he cleared his throat once again. “i like you too.” he shoved his hands in his pockets and made direct eye contact with you. you mentally applaud him for the courage, perfectly exhibiting his house’s prominent trait. but the long silence and you not attempting to create a response made his eyes look at everything besides you who calmly sat legs crossed on the grass. he failed to see the adoration that you have for him in your eyes as he was too busy worrying that he had made you ‘despise’ him even more.

mark, undeniably the most popular student in hogwarts, was the one standing above you and looking down at you, but it was obvious that you are the one whose got him wrapped around your finger.

you smirked slightly once you realized that you can have some fun in this. “you think that i’d have even the slightest interest on the muggle born, lion boy that you are?” you teased, quirking your eyebrows.

the overly nervous boy obviously didn’t catch the joking tone laced in your voice but being the gryffindor head-boy he is, mark puffed up his chest and spoke with full confidence. “yeah i do think that.” after getting no response from you, his chest fell down and his back began to hunch. replying with a soft tone that almost made your lip quiver, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have even believed in the rumors in the first place. i’ll tell everyone to st-“

the guilt became bigger and bigger the more he talked, and you just couldn’t take the image of him standing there not knowing what to do with his hands anymore. “well you’re right.”

mark’s eyes were popping out of his head with his mouth wide open. “seriously?”

“i mean, wasn’t i obvious?” you stood up and wiped your robe during the process.

he raised his eyebrow and refrained himself form laughing. “you truly have a special way of showing it then.” despite the lighthearted tone in his voice, he still couldn’t look at you.

“so i’ve been told.” you giggled, slightly covering your mouth with your fingers. giggled. mark thought. he immediately looked at you at the sound of your giggling since he’s never made you do that before, and it made his pride swell seeing your eyes crinkle and face glow red by his words.

mark was so entranced by your appearance, he’s never seen you like this before and he could definitely get used to it. so entranced that his body began moving for him, leaning closer and closer with his hands reaching for your waist.

before he was close enough to get a taste of your chapstick, you separated your lips with your index finger. you tutted, “not yet.”

“yet?”

you hummed at his question. “if you work hard enough.” you bend down to gather your books from the ground and mark followed your actions, handing your books.

“of course i will, you know me.” he teased while standing back up with you and flashed a side smile that caused the release of the butterflies caged in the pit of your stomach.

the bell rang, indicating the end of class which meant that everyone should be coming out now. you looked at mark once more, “fortunately.”

his smile grew but disappointment took over his face when he saw you barely stepping back from him.

before turning your back, you poked his chest with your pointer finger — getting surprised at how muscular he felt. wanting to have more fun, you leaned close to his ear and whispered, “i’m counting on you.”

the feeling of your lips brushing against his ear made mark’s face heat up and focus unclear. he only managed to see you strut into the hallways, leaving him flustered and shaking his head at your antics that he found so endearing.

mark continued to watch your figure become smaller and smaller the further you walked away, only getting pulled out of the trance once his friends called out his name. he looked back at you and was met with a genuine smile that you gave him, which made him stumble as he was trying to make his way to his fellow gryffindors. you’re going to make me lose my mind. mark thought. and you made sure to prove him right.

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dioko · 4 years ago

Text

NOT JUST ANYONE.

izuku midoriya x gn! reader

Word Count -> ~ 1810

Genre -> oneshot, fluff

Content -> mildly suggestive (spice rating is 1.5/5), drunk reader, swearing, college au! characters, older reader and younger deku | please lemme know if i missed anything!

Summary -> You really did believe a certain Izuku Midoriya had his nose buried in his textbooks 24/7. Your first impression of him had led you to pin him as a downright nerd - boring and young and nowhere near your type.

a/n -> 1. idk about the cover page i jus thought deku looked cool there and the oneshot title is eh 2. this was in my drafts for a long, LONG time and today i finally got it to the point where i didn't hate it. enjoyy <333

Once, you really did believe a certain Izuku Midoriya had his nose buried in his textbooks 24/7. Your first impression of him had led you to pin him down as a nerd - boring, and young and nowhere near your type.

Boy, were you wrong.

The first time you’d met him, he’d smiled at you with such bright, green eyes, it was almost impossible not to smile back.

“Hello, l/n y/n, s’nice to finally meet you! I’m Midoriya Izuku!” He'd very obviously sunken his voice an octave lower, and whether that was on purpose or not, it was still cute. Still innocent, still pure.

Not attractive, whatsoever.

“Yeah,” you'd turned your attention back to your work,“it’s nice to meet you too.”

After that, your ever-so-impatient brother had rushed him into his room, and Midoriya had obliged - not before shooting you one last glance. In hindsight, there might’ve been something just a teeny bit darker that had resided in Midoriya's lively eyes.

Then, weeks passed.

Was it just you, or did college students grow really, really fast?

As he left your brother's work room for the millionth time that month, you found yourself noticing how different he looked compared to when you’d first met him. Now, when Izuku waved a (large, my god) hand at you, he looked taller, broader… older.

“See you," he chirped to his friend, bringing you back to the reality where he was most definitely not older than you.

Wake up, you're practically a senior citizen, you’d chided yourself, there’s no way he’s mature enough for you. Then, another side of you, presumably the devil that sat on your shoulder, tried to argue. You’re not much older, it said, he’s practically the same age as you.

“Oh wait- there was something I had to ask you, l/n-”

“S’fine, you can call me y/n, ‘Zuku.” you didn’t intend to call him something so intimate, the words just.... absent-mindedly slipped out your mouth.

Oopsies daisies!

“Oh! I - I can? Um… ah,” you watched, mildly entertained by the way he tripped up his words, all from a nickname, “we’re all going out tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come-”

“Who’s we?”

“Er- me, and… and your brother! And a few others!”

“Oh?” You couldn’t let yourself smile, not yet.

“It’ll be fun!” He sputtered, “a lot of um, a lot of… um, drinking?” It sounded more like a question than a persuasive statement.

You blinked. “Yeah sure, that sound’s good. I didn’t take you for someone who drank.”

“I don’t?”

“Then why are you going?”

“I thought it would be a good way to spend time with y- my friends.”

“Ah, your friends.”

“Yup,” he squeaked.

“Okay then!” You smacked him playfully on his arm - his large, extremely toned, t-shirt-stretching arm - and jolted him out of his fear, “I’ll see you then, ‘Zuku!”

Izuku Midoriya had a surprising number of friends.

He had, in a gentlemanly fashion, offered to walk with you to the bar (though your brother was there too) and when you stepped in, you were taken aback by the several people at your table.

Your guts told you to sit beside the angry one - he looked… fun.

“Who the fuck is this?” The blond talked like you weren’t there.

“Kacchan,” another blond - with a black streak in his hair - chided, “be nice to the pretty birdie!” Was he drunk already?

“Yeah, Kacchan,” you smirked, “respect your elders.”

The first blond just about exploded on the spot.

“Watch your mouth,” he seethed at you.

“Hot,” you muttered, unaware of evergreen eyes that couldn’t seem to peel themselves off your lips; your soft, pink, kissable lips.

“What the fuck?” Kacchan flinched back.

“Sorry,” you grinned, “I meant ‘little snot’.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you little sn-”

Four flirtatious advances from three of Izuku’s friends, two hours and 1 mental breakdown later, you were finally ready to go home - everyone was, really - but where was your brother?”

“Deku,” he’d hissed at the greenette, “I’m not going back to the apartment today, can you take-” he gestured towards you, slumped over a pile of food, “- that thing back to the apartment?”

Izuku opened his mouth, about to ask why he couldn’t but immediately shut up again when he realized it was more time he had to spend with you. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Don’t try anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” Awkwardly, Izuku scooched his way past Sero and Uraraka, trying to find a place to put his hands so he could lift you off the table. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Ah, ‘Zuku!” You gave him a cheeky grin, “you’re friends are so…” you watched Bakugou, “... cute. Have a drink!” It was almost laughable how quickly you changed from topic to topic. Almost. The only non-laughable part was that Bakugou seemed to be a recurring theme.

Izuku pursed his lips, “no, you’re drunk. One of us has to be clear-minded enough to take you home.”

“You’re so smart! Good boy,” you ruffled his hair with a sticky hand, and your rapid strokes fell to a halt when you realized how soft his green hair was. “Wow,” you whispered, “I love your hair. Lemme smell it-”

“NO, no. We’re going home.”

“We?” A smirk played on your lips.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you frowned when he didn’t stutter - he didn’t even go red. Izuku’s entire demeanor had changed; there was no nervous little college guy right now trying to talk to you, there was a friend (haha) genuinely trying to get you home safely. “Now c’mon, can you walk?”

You stood up and skipped a few steps. “Yup.”

“So, Izuku,” you didn’t bother to hide the fact that you were (very greedily) squeezing his biceps, “gotta girlfriend?”

“N-no.”

“... a boyfriend?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, and pulled you onto the wall-side of the sidewalk when a car drove by.

“Any significant other...ss?” You added the plural, just in case.

“No,” he smiled slyly at you, “why? Are you interested?”

You’d known him for months, but this was the first time he’d said something so forward, enough to make your cheeks flare so hot they felt cold.

“No way,” you spoke like it was obvious, and then quickly checked to make sure he didn’t look hurt. “Hey! Why do you look so amused?”

“M’not,” he turned his head, so you couldn’t see the smile.

“You are. Why?”

“Ah, I can’t say. We’re here,” he punched in the apartment code. “You should get ready for bed.”

There was a small, comfortable pause before drunk-you decided to ignore his advice and speak again. “So, do ya like anyone?”

“I like a lot of people,” Izuku smirked.

Smirked.

“N-no,” you played with the hem of your sweater, “I meant, do you like-like anyone?”

“Hm,” he thought for a second, “that’s a secret.”

“C’mon ‘Zuku! You can trust me!”

“I know that - gimme your coat,” he set it onto a nearby couch and began to flick on random lights, “I still can’t say it, though.”

“Why not?”

“Y/n,” you froze. He’d called you by your first name before, why did it feel so weird now?

“Yes?”

“I’m taking you to your bedroom.”

“You… you are?”

“You’ve got to sleep.”

Oh. Boringggg.

“I don’t wanna,” you hissed, flopping onto your bed anyways. He took a seat at the foot of it.

“Do you… do you ever remember anything once you're sober again?”

“Nope!” You knew you should’ve lied, but you didn’t, “m’friends say I don’t remember a single thing the next morning.”

He chuckled a little bit, almost in disbelief at you. “That’s not something you can just tell anyone.”

“I know, but you’re not just ‘anyone’.”

“I feel like I’m talking to a child.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “it’s kinda hot.”

“What?” Did you mishear? “How do you know what hot means?”

“Y/n! I’m not that young!” He laughed, “sheesh, that hurts.”

“Hurts?”

“Yeah,” he smiled coolly. After all, you weren’t going to remember this conversation.

“”Why does it hurt?”

“... No reason, don’t worry,” he laughs again, for the third time in a row, but it feels dry to you, and empty, too.

“So who do you like?” You chirped again, completely disregarding his ‘I’m pretty sure I just got brother-zoned’ ideology.

“I told you, that’s a secret…” then, he bit his lip, “... but you won’t remember anyways, right?”

“Yep!”

“Then... I like you.”

“Who?” You smiled.

“You.”

“Oh, I like you, too.”

“I like-like you.”

“I like-like you, too.”

“You’re drunk,” he smiled sadly, “sleep.”

“I want fruit.”

“Now? You want me to go get you fruit?”

“Please?”

You inhaled the bucket of raspberries, “anyways, I really do like you. You’re so small and cute.”

“I’m small?”

“No, you’re built like a tank,” you giggled. Sober-you would have called drunk-you an airhead, “I think you’re sexy as hell.”

“Yeah?”

You leaned closer to him. You were sure he could smell alcohol and sugar on your breath, but you didn’t care. “Yeah.”

“Then can I tell you something else?”

“Sure!”

“Kacchan annoys me so much,” he wiped off the juice that dribbled down your chin with his thumb, and you made the mistake of leaning into his touch, “especially when he flirts with you.”

“When’s he ever flirted with me?”

“Tonight,” Izuku pulled back, and you (embarrassingly) fell forward. “I didn’t like it.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Yes,” he admitted, and quite shamelessly - but only because you weren’t sober.

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” you cooed at him, and then randomly, “you remind me of bunnies!”

“That’s cute,” his voice was hoarse, “then, can you promise me something, bunny?”

You flushed hot. “That - that’s not what I meant, I meant you’re my bunny.”

“Sure,” he nodded along.

You shuffled yourself a little closer to him. This wasn’t the Midoriya Izuku you’d come to know, who was he? Why was he so different from the twitchy student who cared so much about his grades?

“What did you want me to promise?” It was a good idea to change the topic, you thought, for his sake, not your own. Definitely.

“Promise me you won’t let Kacchan get so close to you anymore,” he played with your fingers, “you can do that, right? You... can be a good bunny for me?”

“Mhm,” you couldn't refuse when he put it like that.

“Go to bed now, it’s late.”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss me.”

Izuku paused. His eyes were on your lips, that was for sure, but he showed no sign of moving closer. “M’not gonna do that when you're drunk.”

You frowned.

“I’ll sit with you ‘till you're asleep. I’m not… touching you, though.”

“Manly,” you murmured.

“Human decency,” he corrected.

The greenette pulled your covers above your waist and moved to the desk chair in your room, “good night, y/n.”

It was a shame this would all be forgotten, and the two of you would be back to square one by morning.

a/n -> yes the nickname has everything to do with my URL and so what

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barry-j-blupjeans · 3 years ago

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ohhh how about 43 (Slipping on the ice despite wearing textured snow boots) and Barry?

43. Slipping on the ice despite wearing textured snow boots.

((winter prompts here))

Barry was... embarrassingly bad at navigating icy weather. To the point where he didn't feel comfortable driving himself to get groceries, so he had called an Uber instead and tried not to panic as they slid just a bit on the icy roads. His driver had dropped him off on the wrong side of the parking lot, meaning Barry had to cross the road to get inside the store, and he was not looking forward to it. He had snowshoes on. He was padded up with the thickest jacket he owned and his sturdiest pair of blue jeans. He was ready for this.

He was decidedly not ready for this.

In the twenty feet space between him and the door, he had slipped not once, not twice, but three times. And the last one fucking hurt, so instead of getting up, he just sort of... crawled his way across the street. Thank god it was so early, or he probably would have been run over. Maybe he did get run over because as he finally got to the sidewalk, there was a pair of boots in front of him.

Attached to those boots was the most beautiful fucking person Barry had ever seen. She held out a hand to him.

"Thank you," Barry said genuinely, taking it. She helped him to his feet and if she was laughing, he really didn't mind. Honestly, that display deserved to be laughed at. How Barry was still alive, he had no fucking clue.

"No problem, bluejeans," she said, dusting off his shoulders. He didn't even mind the nickname. "You, uh- you new around here?"

"Is it that obvious?" Barry said, flushing. "I- I moved in at the start of the semester, uh- Neverwinter University h-"

"Oh, sick!" she said. "What're you studying?"

"Teaching, actually," Barry admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, theoretical necromancy and a- a few classes on different, like, practical magical uses."

"Oh, you're the corpse guy!" she said, snapping her fingers and Barry blinked, suddenly a little mortified. He- he wasn't-

"The corpse guy?" he squeaked.

"Yeah!" she said. "So many of my students are, like, fuckin' obsessed with your little reanimated skeleton helpers? I've been dying to see the raccoon myself, but-"

"You work at the university?" Barry said, suddenly more than a little mortified. "I- I didn't, uh-"

"I'm Lup," she said, holding out her hand. "Practical and theoretical evocation. It's nice to meet you, Professor Bluejeans."

"It's- it's Hallwinter actually-" Barry said, flushing impossibly deeper. "It's nice to meet you too! Uhm, please don't- don't tell anyone about my, uh-" he glanced towards the road. His body was still aching. "My inexperience with weather like this."

"You're secret's safe with me," Lup said, winking. And while Barry got the distinct impression the secret wasn't safe with her, he couldn't find it in him to care.

#blupjeans #lup #barry bluejeans #mine #ise cube writing #asks #iwilltranscend

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starsdies · 2 years ago

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i see you’re a literature major and wanted to ask what your favorite books are? i will use them as recs lowkey

what a nice question! thanks for asking i’d love to talk about my fave books. i will list some gen ones and then talk about my favorites!

i enjoy: wuthering heights, the bell jar, tender is the flesh, the vampire academy series is a guilty pleasure shhh, never let me go, karen miller’s sw books, persuasion, dorian gray, if we were villains, lolita, confessions of a mask, kim jiyoung born 1982, the thirst series (another guilty pleasure), norwegian wood, cursed bunny, milk teeth, klara and the sun.

my ultimate favorites however … have to be

“what’s left of me is yours” by stephanie scott. i believe it’s her debut novel and it’s so beautiful. the descriptions of japan and the immersive dialogue. fascinating family dynamics. it follows the store of a daughter looking back at her mother’s murder and basically we know on page one that her lover killed her. this lover was hired by the husband (in japanese: a wakaresaseya - literally “professional breaker upper”) to infiltrate their marriage, seduce the wife/mother and get caught. that way, the husband gets leverage in a divorce. but things go south when the wakaresaseya falls in LOVE with this woman and it results in her death. it tells you she’s dead and then works backwards, it’s fun, it’s stunning. please read it!!

“the song of achilles” by madeline miller. i think this one is obvious as an obikin and patrochilles truther AND classics student so i won’t say much more. just beautiful writing and really hits it out of the ballpark with the tragedy aspects.

“the forest of hands and teeth” series by carrie ryan. this entire series is just so lovely. each book has a new protag but it’s kind of a family line thing. in the first book we follow mary who lives in a very religious village in the middle of a forest, surrounded by a gate and zombies. everything about this is just beautiful and i cried so hard i snotted, so. a love triangle (with mary and two brothers) done well imo, religious guilt, obsession, zombies and tragedy!! i cant remember the second book very well bcos it’s my least fave but the third book is also KEKCLOCCL. it follows mary’s adoptive daughter in a new setting (i won’t spoil) and introduces a new set of characters, including my fave, “catcher,” who we discover is immune. it’s also super grimy, has twins and devastated cities, good romance and another like … love square … but it works out and is very good read. i love this series a lot and it’s been a fave since i was like 17. my fave topic ever is zombies and this was such a fun take on it. very introspective as well!!

and finally my fave book of all time “the secret history” by donna tartt. again… embarrassingly on point for my specific interests. but i love academic settings, dubious morals and pretentious idiots. i love mystery and guilt (or lack of), murder and undertones of queerness. this book is one i just finished rereading a few days ago actually. it’s annotated to Shit. as someone learning greek it also just pleases me. this aesthetic tartt flawlessly knows how to compose is just !!!! and i want to thank her for giving me the most god awful character known to man and still letting me enjoy him: bunny corcoran. who is fruity gay for henry no i do NOT accept criticism!!

#book talk #please continue asking me about books #i love it thank you

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ifeveristoday · 4 years ago

Text

I got out my DVDs for this rewatch (that’s not actually a big deal. I only have season 3 on DVD. 😂) so let’s get to it.

I forgot they did a cold open for this episode!

I know it’s for ambiance but man does Angel have a lot of candles displayed. Probably too ‘mainstream’ for his taste but the thought of Angel furtively going to a Bath and Bodyworks in the mall during their semi-annual sale and just buying out their whole candle selection gives me the purest joy. Let’s be real though, Angel would shop at some boutique/hole in the wall owned by a wizened old character with a twinkle in their eye and everything marked up 20%. Or it would be a steel and glass monstrosity with a collection labeled Candles for Men. That’s the range.

Back to the enormous fire hazard that this scene is -

Wait. Does fire burn on stone?

Shout out to the stunt doubles.

I think that Angel getting food for Buffy for a sort of alfresco picnic while training is really sweet, actually. Also, can't miss the opportunity for both carbs and phallic symbolism ala bread.

Everyone is so embarrassingly horny in this moment. I'd say get a room except they're in a whole giant mansion.

Always remember the bread! What did Angel do with the food after Buffy fled? Fed the no-doubt cursed pigeons that live in Sunnydale.

Thanks for the workout (insert stereotypical dirty laugh).

Oh yes, the awkward 'let's talk about your birthday without mentioning the last birthday you had at all because it's horrifying' chitchat. God, the anxiety Angel is radiating here and Buffy trying to smooth it over. You can't unfrost that trauma cake!

Angel, you utter dork. You're lucky Buffy finds you pretty. Very powerful himbo energy here. And it's nice to see some light-hearted flirting/banter between them.

How do you know when someone's aura's dirty? Buffy is only asking the reasonable questions everyone has.

Do you hear yourself, Giles. "I'm aware of your distaste in studying vibratory stones..." I can't imagine what that section of the Slayer handbook looks like. Are there pull-out charts?

Faith being conveniently gone for this episode. Boo, hiss.

That workout really did a number on Buffy. I see what you're doing with those crystals.

One of the sad parts of rewatching Buffy is that you just don't have the first time discovery feels of watching it - that magic is gone, but even though I know why Buffy's wobbling in her fight, the reveal is still upsetting. Thinking about how in Season 5, when she does get staked, just as she's questioning her powers - and here, where she's losing them.

Also, obvious observation is obvious - the sexual violence imagery is really, really blatant here - with the vampire crouched over her with the stake aimed toward her heart, just as she playfully staked Angel earlier in a more romantically set scene.

AND THEN THE THEME KICKS IN. Like, damn! Three minutes and you can pretty much tell what the plot is going to be - Buffy and Angel's UST is getting out of hand, Buffy's lone Rangering it, and something is wrong with her. And it's her birthday.

And Buffy's resourcefulness saves the day.

Perhaps you shouldn't be throwing knives in the library, Buffy.

Did they do a geography lesson on Cuernavaca? It's also just fun to say. Like La Cienega. Brief moment to ponder yet again about a show set in Southern California, actually shot in Southern California, with the huge Latine population we have and the Spanish-influenced names and culture and - getting sidetracked by all this casual 90s racism.

"We do it every year for my birthday," except your seventeenth, presumably because of the murderous ex-boyfriend stalking the town you live in and all your loved ones. [Or, he did take her and it was not shown on screen!] Sometimes I wonder if the continuity editors just go, you know, I'm going to let this one go for the 'emotion' and not just so years later, a Virgo with a deep-seated need to obsess over throwaway details will go into a thought spiral to make it make sense.

I think this is also the last time Hank Summers was spoken of with any real affection because then he was Deadbeat Dad for the remainder of the show. Oh, look. The Scoobies are surprised about the traditional birthday ice show that I'm going to nitpick about forever.

Oz is so supportive, and then the clunker of a 'deep' line of ice being cool because it's water then it's not. I do like the Whedonesque school of dialogue, but sometimes you gotta reel it back. I remember the dialogue on Dawson's Creek was getting pinged for the teenagers talking like grad students.

Quiet reflection. Oh you poor girl, you have no idea.

Quarterly projections - is a convincing filler phrase for when you don't need to know what the job is, because it's boring but sounds vaguely official. What does Hank actually do? Who cares! He's an asshole.

Sunnydale Arms, because of course, Sunnydale has a broken down abandoned murder hotel.

Quentin Travers. Boo. Hiss.

The scary music is very scary. Also one of the Council flunkies looks like a very young Vincent D'Onofrio.

This scene with them in the library is so bittersweet because Buffy is fishing for Giles's attention as a father figure substitute ("very sophisticated people go!" breaks my heart) and he pointedly is rejecting this for training talk.

Look for the flaw at its center. THE FLAW IS YOU GILES. YOU YOU YOU.

it's just so terrible, this scene because of how methodical and clinical it plays out. And Buffy is just not there, and then Giles smiles like nothing has happened.

Buffy makes it through another night - next day (another reason why this trial is so horrifying is that it takes place over several days - it's not on Buffy's birthday but leading up to it, so the idea of her getting weaker and weaker and unable to fight to make it to 18 in the first place) and it's time for the Cordelia has had enough of toxic masculinity scene!

Also, Willow blithely ignoring a person's feelings and treating Amy as just a rat is played for laughs and cuteness, but yeah...you can't treat people like puppets or rats [law and order sound]

I love Cordelia's coat. And also, while it does suck that she stood him up, he's not entitled to her time or attention and certainly not to threaten her. Go, Cordy! Fight like a girl! Yes! Pummel him into the hallway.

I also love Willow's outfit here because I think the colors are so complementary and warm and it's a cute outfit. Okay, the knit wooly hat is a bit too Blossom-esque, but whatever.

Buffy is tiny, we all know this, but I do think they purposefully dressed her in larger than her size coats in this episode to make her look even more tiny and vulnerable.

Giles is TOO BLASE for this scene also shut your mouth about throwing knives like a girl

"It's an archaic exercise in cruelty." SO WHY DID YOU GO ALONG WITH IT, BRAIN TRUST. (I am going to be very mean to Giles this whole rewatch, deal with it.)

"But I'm the one in the thick of it." No, you're not. You are going to be adjacent to it, at best.

Hey it's that guy!

Okay, in better lighting, flunkie does not look like Vincent D'Onofrio.

It's impossible to pin down one type of Vampire in the Whedonverse, except for the delineation between Grunt Bait Vampires, and Special Guest Star/Master vampires, but Kralik is the only other example of a vampire with mental illness besides Drusilla, yet he's medicated. Makes me wonder how exactly they got Kralik...he was a monster before he was a vampire, but who vamped him? I don't put it past the Watchers to have vampires created for this purpose.

Curse against lawyers!

Xander and Oz bonding over comic books is so fun. I regret they didn't really get closer until after Xander and Willow cheated because Oz was the one male friend Xander had.

They mentioned her birthday! Thinking about Buffy's love of poetry later on, this is a nice little detail, and it *is* a thoughtful, sweet gift. Also those poems: horny. Oh yes, maybe in a restrained way, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew what was up.

The Buffy and Angel relationship in season three is full of these starts and stops that I can see why and agree with others about how it's frustrating on a number of levels. They know why they can't be together, but they still try to find a common ground because they want to need the other one. They still have their identities to figure out - Buffy as the slayer and a young adult, Angel as a person, separate from Buffy and being Buffy's ex sort of maybe.

But this conversation in Helpless is genuinely sweet and a glimpse at what a normal couple at the crossroads would talk about - I think I'm also being soft on this because the other Important Male Figure in Buffy's life in this episode lets her down so spectacularly bad, that Angel being supportive and kind in his awkward way is a nice respite. It's good to be away from the angst and the horror that their relationship has had.

And the self-aware puncturing of the Moment between them is something Buffy does very well. "Taken literally, incredibly gross - I was just thinking that too". Look, it's cute and soft and I will allow it.

The horror of this episode (and there are so many) is that we have to watch Buffy become the helpless blonde in a slasher flick who is being chased by the monsters and she can't do anything about it - that she has to be rescued or die. That the real world with men catcalling and bystanders who ignore women's cries of distress is far scarier than the literal demons that inhabit the town - and Buffy brokenly saying she can't just be a person, she can't be helpless like that [like women are, still, today] is a gut punch. It's uncomfortable and unhappy because Buffy is supposed to be the hero, the [sigh] strong female lead who can kick ass and take names, and this episode is all about finding who Buffy is, separate from her super powers. Also an exercise in emotional torture, but must be Tuesday.

The physicality - the weakness that both Buffy and Giles display in this scene is so, so good. The way Buffy's hand trembles toward the needle in the case and the dawning realization of what Giles has done, has chosen to do - and he bloodlessly tells her what the Cruciamentum is.

Her tiny little "Liar."

GOD WHY DIDN'T SHE GET AN EMMY (rhetorical we all know genre tv only matters if it was Game of Rapey Thrones)

"You will be safe now, I promise you." LIAR.

Another puncturing a heavy moment - Cordelia as cavalry - I love it. Cordelia taking the most obvious approach to the situation - 'oh Buffy might have lost her memory, well he's Giles,'

I can't believe they robbed us of a conversation in the car scene with Cordy and Buffy.

Kralik had to have found a polaroid camera and a metallic sharpie for this whole scenario -- OH I KNOW WHO HE REMINDS ME OF. The Night Stalker and any number of serial killers that terrorized SoCal. Is the show being self-aware of the problem with mothers and parents in general?

Probably a glib accident.

I don't have much to say about the part where Buffy hunts Kralik because it's so masterfully done with the atmosphere and music.

Nice of Giles's backbone to enter the chat now.

This is not business. Ooo.

Buffy's "I thought I killed a man" emo overalls!

Like it's shadowy, but there's still enough light to see facial expressions. Lighting guy, I salute you.

Little red riding hood metaphor. Oh, that's so her stunt double.

CREEPY SEXUAL VIOLENCE REARS ITS DEFORMED HEAD AGAIN

Jump stair scare. I remember the first time I saw it, I jolted in the living room.

Serial Killer Shit. Why are vampires such drama queens?

THAT'S RIGHT, BUFFY DID THAT

The ending scene in the library is cathartic in that Buffy gets to stand up for herself finally, and recognizes what Giles gives up by helping her, delayed as it was, also there's the feeling of hate punching Quentin Travers via your eyes.

Still don't think she should have forgiven Giles so easily, but we don't get to see a lot of aftercare for Buffy when she gets hurt, and it is a very tender scene.

The Scoobies are being way too upbeat if they knew about the fact that Giles poisoned Buffy, which is why I'm assuming she told a very abbreviated version of events ending with Buffy killed the bad guy and Giles got fired, oops.

Xander's big strong man comment and then looking immediately to Willow to open the jar and not Oz...

I could watch this episode again with episode commentary from David Fury, but another day.

#a bit later #but here it is #saff rewatches buffy

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theshrubbery · 4 years ago

Text

Can I Be Close To You - snowbaz fake dating au ch1

I post this on ao3 but I fancied posting on here too ‘cause I really wanna start taking snowbaz writing requests and stuff but for that I figured I should post stuff first haha

SIMON

Baz is plotting something. I just know he is. I don’t care what Penny says, Baz is always plotting something and no one can persuade me otherwise. Understandably, after the last few times I’ve been sure that Baz was plotting against me and nothing actually happened, Penny has long since lost her faith in my judgement of him. Not that Penny really likes him all that much herself either anyways.

Baz is my roommate here at Watford, and he’s the poshest shitbag I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Though meeting really is putting it lightly, really we were forced together back in our first year, forced to become roommates for the rest of our careers at Watford. Fan-fucking-tastic that was, best bloody day of my life, as if I hadn’t already felt like I’d been thrown in somewhere I didn’t belong, I just had to be shoved into an eight-year rooming contract with the richest twat in the entire school.

Watford is a pretty elite school, I think it’s militant at times but Penny drools over the place, thinks it’s the bread and butter of the entire academic world. I only got in through a scholarship I didn’t even want. The headmaster of the school scouted me from care when I was eleven after news got around about my successive high marks in all my schoolwork. The headmaster all but adopted me then took me in as his young prodigy with promises of a better life and the expectation that I was probably going to grow up to cure cancer, or something like that.

This entire school is entirely out of my league, full of rich, elitist people from rich, elitist families, who’d all likely burst an artery if they knew I was here—the headmaster had kept it under wraps, had secretly enrolled me a few days before term started and sent me on my merry way to the Hell that is sharing a room with Tyrannus Basilton Grim-Pitch. Yes. That is his real name. What a git.

Back to my point, though, I am actually, genuinely, positive that Baz is plotting something this time. He’s always watched me when he thinks I’m not looking (seriously, who does he think I am to leave my guard down around him, my sworn enemy, of course I notice him staring at me) but now it feels like he’s watching me with a purpose. His face twists up as though he has something to say but he just can’t get it out. It looks painful enough that I almost want to snap around and face him when he looks at me like that, I want to demand to know what he’s thinking if only to put him out of that misery. Or something like that, I guess.

“Baz isn’t plotting anything, Simon,” Penny says as we sit down at a table in the cafeteria for breakfast. I roll my eyes and pick up a small roll of bread, biting a chunk out of it with my teeth and replying with my mouth still full of food. No matter how many times Penny tells me off for this, I just can’t seem to break the habit. Although that seems to imply that I try—which I don’t.

“You don’t see the way he looks at me, Pen.” I swallow my mouthful of bread and lather a thick chunk of butter across the remains in my hands, then I eat that, too. “We’ve only been back a couple weeks but I can already feel the murderous intent. I keep catching him staring at me like he’s just waiting for the right moment to take me down.”

“Simon, are you sure Baz sees you as his enemy?” Penny asks me, raising her eyebrow skeptically as I reach for another bread roll and begin to slather it in butter. I’m ravenous.

“Of course,” I say, probably a little too loudly. “Literally, Pen, how many times has he tried to take me down? Remember when he pushed me down that flight of stairs?”

“I mean, that was kind of both your faults, really, Simon.” Penny gives me a pointed look and flips her thick hair over her shoulder. “I literally don’t know what you were expecting, fighting at the top of the stairs like that.”

“I mean the fight started in our room,” I tell her. I can’t understand how Penny doesn’t realise how blatantly obvious it is that Baz is out for my blood. “He’s the one that pushed me through our door and onto the landing. I bet that was his plan all along! To get me to the edge of the stairs and then punch me so I fell down!”

“Yeah. Or, he just got in a lucky punch. You didn’t see how sick he looked after he realised what he’d done.”

“Probably thinking about the court charges and prison sentences when he realised he actually almost killed me.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Simon.” Penny pats my arm across the table from where she sits opposite me almost sarcastically. “I’m sure he has better people to kill than you.”

“I don’t understand him at all,” I huff, reaching to pull a plate of bacon sandwiches towards me. I’m halfway through my second one when I see Baz enter the cafeteria through the heavy-set wooden doors at the far end of the room over Penny’s shoulder and I almost choke at the surprise, coughing embarrassingly loudly. My eyes burn and water as Penny runs around my side of the table and begins thumping me, way too hard I shall add, on the back in an attempt to get me to breathe again. The chunk of sandwich that was lodged in my throat flies back up into my mouth and I take a deep, heaving breath as I chew and swallow it down properly. Penny looks at me with the most hilariously disgusted face I think I have ever seen.

“You are actually disgusting, Simon Snow,” she says as she sits back down. I give her a smile in apology but Baz catches my attention.

Baz looks at me and snickers, quite clearly, at my reaction to his entering the room, though when he realises I’m watching, he immediately tampers down and pretends he’s simply amused at something one of his minions said (because I highly doubt a guy like Baz has anything other than minions, forget friends). For a moment I think Baz is going to ignore me after that initial surprise of seeing me staring straight back at him, but instead he chooses to sit the table behind ours, facing me, clearly in my line of vision. It’s as though he wants me to see him, or he wants to see me. For more of his fucking creepy stalking, I presume.

It’s a nightmare to go to class after that, knowing full well that Baz was going to be there and knowing full well I’d be sat right next to him at my desk. I suppose it’s better than it used to be in the younger years, when the tables were pushed together to form groups of six students at each. Now we’re older, they’re arranged in straight lines down the room, so rather than bashing elbows with Baz we now have an arms-length between us.

Not that it was my choice to sit here, stupid schools and their stupid seating plans, it’s a wonder I ever survived English with Baz breathing right next to me the entire time, writing in his posh, cursive handwriting and making my scrawl look illegibly pathetic.

Now, as I enter the class, Baz is already there, sitting straight at his desk and managing to look somehow both attentive and bored. He notices me as I enter, I see one of his crossed legs twitch beneath the table and his jaw suddenly clench. I see it from the other side of the room when he swallows and looks pointedly away from me.

I don’t know whether he’s humiliated at me having caught him laughing at me, or whether he’s finally got tired of trying to plot against me but whatever it is, I feel oddly lost without it. Having an enemy like Baz, someone always a step ahead, gives me a reason to get up in the morning. Because if I don’t get up I’m almost positive Baz would smother me with a pillow and my death would be pathetic rather than heroic. And although I don’t really think that Baz would murder me, I don’t like to take chances like that where I can help it.

The lesson passes the same as usual, in a hazy blur. I take notes but only because if I don’t keep my grades up I’ll lose my scholarship and be sent back to a god-awful care home, but I barely take any of the information in, I’m far too conscious of Baz today, even-more-so than usual. Something just seems off with him, though I don’t have the slightest idea what. He keeps glancing over at me, fidgeting, writing out notes only to stop mid-sentence and push his pen hard into the paper of his glaringly empty page.

Baz keeps running a hand through his hair, too, and I can’t help the swirling of anger in my gut when I think he must be copying me. I’ve known Baz for eight years, lived with him for nine months of the year each time, but I’ve never known him to be the type to fidget and muss his hair up. The great Basilton Pitch was always exceptionally put-together, if only to lord it over the rest of us peasants, always neat and tidy and always making out like nothing was wrong, even when I hear him sobbing in our en-suite shower at the end of the day when he thinks I’m not in the room.

At the end of the lesson he’d looked over at me like he’d forgotten I had eyes and could look right back. His face had coloured, a deep red against the bronze of his skin (Baz had inherited his looks off his mother, apparently, and she was Egyptian), and he’d gathered his things, stuffing them in his leather satchel, and left the room in a hurry.

I don’t see Baz for the rest of the day until last lesson, history, though he doesn’t sit anywhere near me, thank God. Despite this though, I still can’t concentrate, not with the knowledge that Baz is in the room. It doesn’t matter how many other people fill up the room, Baz is pompous enough to make me feel like it’s just the two of us. Everyone else feels like an extra in our on-going battle. I make as many notes as I can, fill out the worksheets the teacher hands out to the best of my ability despite the churning in my stomach that tells me something is wrong, probably warning me that Baz is going to have me as soon as we’re out of lesson, he’s probably itching to fight me like we haven’t in years. We’re long overdue, really. But instead, rather than a fight, Baz volunteers to collect the worksheets for the teacher, and he leaves me until last.

My heart thrums as he gets nearer, the adrenaline beginning to surge through my veins at the prospect of another fight with him. Baz stands there, in front of my desk, the stack of stapled worksheets cradled in the crook of his arm and balanced on his hip as he looks uncomfortably down at me. Baz is taller than me, by at least three inches, so he loves to remind me, and to meet my eyes he has to lower that smug chin.

“Snow,” Baz says, pursing his lips. I panic and try to come up with something clever.

“Actually it’s raining,” I stupidly say instead. Baz huffs at me, shifts where he stands, and sucks his lips into his mouth as he looks out the window to confirm, letting the lower one slip through his teeth as he releases them. He looks back to me.

“Astute observation, Snow, you complete bloody moron.” Baz’s voice is flat and biting and it makes me want to punch him.

“What do you want, Baz?” I ask him, leaning forwards in my chair.

“Your worksheets,” answers Baz, holding out a well-cared-for hand. I make to give him my sheets but then yank them back at the last second, enjoying the grimace Baz gives me. I’m pretty sure I almost hear him growl.

“No,” I smirk. “What do you actually want?” Baz looks almost dumbfounded for a moment, like I’d asked him to reveal all his deepest darkest secrets, like I’d found something out he didn’t want me to know. Then his features settle again and he snatches the paper out my hand.

“Just meet me back in our room after lesson, I need to talk to you about something.”

“What do you mean? You’re not meant to tell your enemy your plans for murder, that just takes all the fun out of it.”

“Fuck—Snow, just—” Baz shakes his head and slams my paper down into the pile at his hip, already turning to storm away as he composes himself. “Just be there, okay? This is important.”

Baz doesn’t catch me giving him the middle finger as he walks away, but the teacher does, which is really just my luck, and I’m glad that Penny isn’t in this class with me to laugh at my misfortune.

“You want me to what?” I shout, incredulous. Did I actually just hear what I thought I heard with my very own two ears? I know that I’m prone to idiocy, I zone out a lot, mishear, all of that, but seriously. If I thought being caught giving Baz the finger was misfortune, I must have been stupid. This right here is misfortune.

“You heard me,” Baz says, leaning back against the door with his arms crossed as though he expects me to try and break free, escape, run and never come back. Honestly, I really am fucking considering it.

“I swear to God,” I say with a humourless laugh, running a hand down my face, the other propping me up on the bed. “I knew you were plotting something, Baz, but this? This just takes the fucking cake. Are you serious?”

“Yes, Snow, I am serious, and I’d appreciate it if you’d start treating it as such.”

“You told your dad. You have a boyfriend. To get under his skin. And it completely backfired?”

“Correct.” It looks like it pains Baz to admit it. Good.

“And now you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend over half term at your house?”

“I always thought you were ignorant but I guess your ears do work after all, very well done, Snow,” Baz says patronisingly. The sound of his voice irks me and I all I want to do is refuse. But… there’s something in Baz’s face that tells me there’s more to this than meets the eye. I hate Baz, really I do, but I can’t stand to see him looking so vulnerable. I still don’t know how to answer him though, and the silence in the room is making the atmosphere heavy.

“You’re gay?” I ask instead of replying. I never considered that Baz could be gay, he always has girls fawning over him. My own girlfriend, Agatha, left me for a shot at Baz last year though that wound is long closed, I’m not sure me and Agatha were ever meant to be together in the first place. Still, though, having her leave me to throw herself at the enemy was a kick to the balls. I never understood why Baz had always turned all these girls down, he could probably have his pick of any of the girls in our year if he so wanted to (except Penny, because Penny both hates Baz and already has a boyfriend, Micah, who lives in America) so this really would explain it.

“Entirely,” Baz confirms with a nod. “Absolutely, one-hundred percent. You?”

“I…” I’ve never actually thought about it, and I can’t think of the right answer to say before Baz interrupts me.

“If you do this I promise I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“Like you’d kill me anyways, it would be too much paperwork and shame to your family name.”

“Simon,” Baz says, and I can’t help but give him my full attention at that. “Please. Just do me this one favour. I’ll do whatever you want after the week is up, I’ll leave you alone or whatever the fuck it is you want from me. Just do me this one favour and don’t make me a fool before my father.”

“You’re a fool anyways,” I murmur under my breath, unable to help myself. I look up at Baz, really taking him in, and I realise just how serious this is to him, it feels like unnecessary cruelty to say no. Who knows what he might do to me if I refuse to help him. And besides… how bad could it really be? Jesus Christ I can’t believe I’m even thinking of doing this in the first place, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“I’ll do it,” I say, and Baz’s head snaps up so fast he hits it against the door. He looks at me, wide-eyed, like he’d already been planning his escape from his family and which country to start his new life in. I don’t know why this is such a big deal to Baz, but I suppose I’ll find out. At least I’ll get to see if he lives in a stupid mansion like I’ve always pictured he does.

BAZ

My stomach bottoms out when Snow agrees. I’d never actually expected him too. Christ above, I’m fake-dating Simon bloody Snow. I almost feel guilty that he doesn’t know how badly I want him, that he’s giving me everything I’ve ever craved in the cruellest way possible. It’s selfish, really, that I’m taking him for granted like this, but there’s no-one else I can trust enough. Maybe that’s because I’ve been hopelessly in love with Snow for years, but it doesn’t matter. At least for a week, I’ll have a taste of what could be, in a different life, I can look into those blue eyes and stroke that golden hair under the guise of fake-love, and when the week is up, I can come back to Watford and die of heartache over what could have been.

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mor-beck-more-problems · 5 years ago

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A Brainful Process || Morgan &Rio

@3starsquinn

Cemetery field trip!

(Contains: zombie and animal gore)

Cemeteries were safer to visit in Morgan’s idle house than the woods. In cemeteries, most of the company was resting six feet under, and those that weren’t had a tendency to wave at Morgan as she walked by, content to leave her alone, one still soul to another. Some even warned her when it was better to turn back home. There’s a girl with the stake that comes by around now, a ghost might say. Or, we don’t like you that much. Cemeteries were safer, yes, and yet somehow tonight Morgan still found herself tackled to the ground, wrestling with a one legged zombie who, for all her wild hunger, really knew how to use her strength to her advantage. “Uh--a little help, maybe?” She called, appealing to one of the spirits nearby. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” the old man said, and drifted off to watch her struggle somewhere else. “Okay, okay, ok--ow!” The zombie woman bit into her shoulder, moaning with hunger. Morgan kicked, trying to knock her off balance enough to shift the weight between them like Mina had taught her, but it was a lot harder when the opponent didn’t have much of a mind for sensing pain. Morgan set her jaw and lashed out to struggle with the zombie woman again. “We got this,” she grunted. “You’re gonna be fine, you just gotta stop trying to eat me!”

Cemeteries had scared Orion far before he knew ghosts and spirits existed. He supposed he always knew they were real. Growing up learning about werewolves and Fae made pretty much anything believable. If his parents had bothered telling him about Santa, Rio might still think he was real. But he had always thought of ghosts in the more creepypasta YouTube sense. That they haunted others. They were crazy stories that made things colder and flipped on lights. Not the kind that possessed other humans and drained their life force. But ever since Rio had learned about the Dybbuks and other evil spirits, Rio hadn’t been able to get them off his mind. Rio began pulling books about ghosts and spirits. The more he read, the more intrigued he became with some of the accounts of sightings. Winston and Ricky must have really gotten to Rio. Without even realizing it, on his way home that night he was taking a detour and heading towards the cemetery. For no other reason than pure stupidity, if Rio had to guess. Once he was within range however, he started hearing voices. The hairs on his arms stood straight up and he immediately began shaking. At least, until he realized that the voices weren’t ghosts or spirits but a person. A person that sounded like they were in danger. Rio picked up his pace, beginning to job before breaking into a sprint towards the cemetery, stopping only when he finally spotted the source of the voice, a woman being attacked by another. “Hey!” Rio yelled, trying to sound more dangerous than he actually was, “Let her go!” Rio began moving towards the two slowly, freezing when he finally realized who the victim of the evening was, “Professor?”

The sound of another voice made Morgan’s dead body go stiff. Fuck. The last thing she needed was human company, or some hunter about to stumble upon a two-for-one deal. “W-we’re fine!” She grunted, finally grappling the zombie woman to the ground and pinning her down. “She’s--she’s just---uh--” Morgan struggled for a good lie. The woman was in literal pieces, her skin sagging off her bones and pockets of bare muscle spreading bursts of dark, grotesque color. And the person was coming closer. “Having an attack! Nothing to see here--Rio?”

Morgan saw him through the edge of her vision and didn’t know whether to be relieved or agitated. She hadn’t told Rio the ‘sudden loss in her family’ that explained away two weeks worth of missed classes had been her own. She hadn’t told any of her students. Funny enough, that still wasn’t a conversation she felt like having. But there wasn’t going to be any fooling him. He was too much of a supernatural scholar to not see the obvious, at least when it came to the woman thrashing and groaning under her. “Hey!” She said brightly, panic tight in her smile. “How weird and amazing to run into you here! I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re both fine right now, completely. But you should really stay back and um, maybe grab some rope? And some fresh brains?” She was convinced, maybe falsely, that she had enough confidence to sell everything she was saying without the need for questions. Then the zombie woman rocked against her weight and threw her off, driven by the pull of fresh meat.

For a long moment, Orion just stood from a distance and stared at Morgan and the woman clawing at her. This didn’t make any sense. Why was Morgan being so casual right now? Was this some sort of fever dream brought on by the lack of sleep? “Uh” Rio hummed, drawing it out for far longer than any of them needed. “Both fine. Right.” He realized, maybe many beats too late, that he had still not moved from his spot. Until now, he had stared at the sight as if it was a horror scene in a movie. “Brains?” Rio asked, touching at his head instinctively before realizing that Morgan probably had a rope and brains here. Because this was a zombie. A zombie. A ZOMBIE? It took this long for the fear to finally rush into Rio’s body and he immediately started fidgeting, the usual skin crawling feeling worming its way through his body. “Oh my god. A zombie! I’ve never met a zombie! I’m going to do something now.” Rio spoke aloud, as if that was going to finally motivate his body to follow the commands. Apparently it worked, his feet finally inching across the grass and towards the two. “What do you want me to do with these things once I have them?”

Morgan’s thin smile fractured with dismay. As much as she was relieved Rio wasn’t some guns a blazing hunter trying to get more goo for their collection. But she didn’t know if this was really the time for scholarly curiosity either. Maybe more like run and take action time. Move faster NOW time. Morgan dove for the zombie again, tackling her to the ground and pressing down with all her weight. She looked up at Rio, pleading for his help. She could keep the zombie pinned down for now, but she wouldn’t be able to help the dead woman with just her hands alone. And, shit--of course Rio wouldn’t have anything on him. He wasn’t Kaden, for crying out loud. Morgan looked around them, mind racing to keep up, to stay ahead of any panic. Maybe this was the time for scholarly curiosity. “The plan!” She said, forcing as much confidence into her bright voice as possible. “The plan is you...find something that will do instead of rope. Um...your belt! And uuh…” She looked around her with dismay. “My belt!” It was a lot daintier, meant for her small waist as decoration rather than supporting any weight. “And we are going to bind the zombie as tightly as we can. Because, fun fact: zombies have a much higher pain threshold than humans! Whatever would hurt for you won’t hurt for them, so that’s not something to worry about when they’re...like this.” She swallowed thickly and forced another smile as the zombie rocked and struggled under her. “When her limbes are secure, we’ll get her some of the food from my bag--” what was supposed to have been her lunch, “--and give her some of that. And then...more, probaby. From...somewhere else. I’m not...actually sure from where yet, but--fun zombie fact 2: decomposition and ‘rabid’ behavior is a symptom of starvation and not, necessarily, the zombie’s natural state! With sustainable access to food, your average zombie isn’t much different than a human, by outward appearances anyway.” Now if they could work on this together without Rio wondering too hard about how she knew all this, it might actually be easy. Or at least, not hard.

Okay, obviously it was clear that Morgan was preoccupied right now. Trying to hold back the woman- er uh the zombie from munching on either of them. Ignoring the swelling excitement as well as the far more palpable fear that was building inside of him, Orion tried to put aside any jitters and listen to Morgan’s instructions. He was lucky he had worn jeans today instead of the usual joggers or track pants, and that he was embarrassingly skinny for his age and height, so any pair of jeans that he wore usually required a belt. He pulled the belt free, hooking his pinky around a belt loop to avoid his jeans dropping. God, that would be embarrassing. “Okay uh- my belt is good. And your belt is uh- still attached to you.” Rio called, still standing a few feet back. He was not incredibly comfortable with the idea of undoing his teacher’s belt, but he supposed there were… strange circumstances.

“This is great!” Rio tried remaining positive, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Although Rio greatly appreciated the information on Zombies, a species he had not done much study on. He was familiar with a couple of culture’s depiction of zombies in their own lore, but from what Morgan was describing, they differed quite a bit. “I am very happy to help and I am totally going to keep my cool during this time.” Rio said aloud, probably trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Morgan. He slowly inched towards them, holding his arms out with his belt gripped tightly in both hands. “Do uh- you want me to do this? Or you? Is the whole thing about a zombie bite still true?”

Jeepers, this was going to be tricky. The zombie woman was beginning to thrash, dragging her and Morgan across the ground inch by inch. The closer Rio got, the more she wriggled her head, gnashing her rotting teeth. Morgan shifted position, pressing her knee down into the woman’s back. This was really not very seemly, but she couldn’t think of another way that would keep the zombie from hurting anyone long enough to feed properly. “We got this, we got this,” she murmured, still racing for ideas. “We got this!” She declared. “You are doing a great job, Rio! Just grab her legs and I’ll get the arms, and we’ll bind them up together. No worries!” She grabbed one of the zombie’s arms, then the other, wrestling against the woman’s frustration. “But, uh, yeah, about the bite. Fun fact, that’s--fuck!” The zombie woman’s teeth bit into her hand, grazing the cuff she used to hide her real scar. Morgan finished wrangling the arms with a grimace and whipped off her belt to fasten her arms together so the wrists would come more easily. “The bite thing is real,” she said, looking down at the wound in her hand. “But don’t freak out, Rio, okay? It doesn’t matter if she bites me, it’s you I’m worried about. Uh, get her wrists and ankles together?”

Orion could do this. He could totally do this. He did not love the idea of grabbing onto this woman, zombie or no. But Morgan seemed convinced that she would not feel the pain and that they were not going to harm her. That was what Rio wanted right? What was some tying and gagging if it meant helping her and others not get hurt? That was totally something that Rio could get behind. Grabbing onto her legs was surprisingly easy. Hunter strength and all made wrangling the woman’s legs surprisingly easy. At least, until the zombie bit Morgan. Rio dropped the legs immediately and began screaming his head off. At that moment, he wasn’t sure what was happening. Would Morgan turn into a zombie? How fast was the process? Was there something he could do to stop it? Rio had seen some zombie shows. How they amputated the body part that had been bitten to stop the spread. Even the idea made Rio light headed. He definitely couldn’t do that. Finally, Rio contained himself again, grappling the legs again and holding them. What the heck did Morgan mean that she wasn’t worried about herself? Was she immune to the bite somehow? “I- I don’t- uhhhhh” Rio’s brain broke for a moment, but he forced himself out of the slump. Grabbing onto the woman’s wrists and easily pulling them back to meet the ankles and wrapping his belt around them. “Oh god- Oh god. I hate this. I’m really bad at this. I think I’m going to puke. Are you okay???”

“Rio! You cannot puke on this woman!” Morgan shrieked. Oh dear. This wasn’t calm. This was the opposite of calm. Could she breathe? Was that ever going to work again? She missed the time when all she had to do was tell herself to breathe and her body would start to right itself back into something right and normal. But the quiet was too great and there was too much happening at once. “I’m fine! I’m not even bleeding!” Mostly because she didn’t have any circulation. “Just--just hold her steady and don’t turn into a zombie!” She scrambled over to her bag and prised open a tupperware full of brains, a blend, as it happened, but even a smidgen of person in there probably wasn’t going to get this woman back to normal. They’d have to take her somewhere better, or get better to her. Morgan stuck the tupperware under the woman’s nose and watched, grimacing, as she moaned and wrangled herself closer to fit as much of it in her mouth as possible. Morgan sat back and deflated. That would keep her busy for, what, five minutes? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I am fine though. I’m…” Morgan shook her head and sid off the cuff, showing Rio her old scar, a perfect oval in the shape of Remmy’s mouth. “I’m already bitten and dead, Rio. Say, you didn’t happen to bring a car here, did you?”

“I’m not going to puke on her!” Orion yelled back, unsure why he was even still yelling. Stress. He totally blamed stress. He needed to calm down. Take a chill pill or something. That was all thrown out the window when Morgan tried to reassure him by letting him know that she wasn’t bleeding. “How are you not bleeding?” Rio was right back to freaking out now. But Morgan seemed more together than Rio was. She was in the right state of mind to fish out something from her bag and give it to the tied up woman. “Is that… brains?” Rio asked, the most calm he had been since showing up here. He examined the mush curiously. Everything seemingly clicked into place when Morgan showed off what looked like an old, already healed scar. She was dead? “You’re… a zombie?” Rio muttered aloud, needing to hear the words to actually begin processing it. A moment of fear passed through him as he considered that Rio had just willingly walked into being part of their midnight snack. But he pushed the thought away quickly. That couldn’t be. This was his professor. They had talked about books and the supernatural together. “Woah. You’re nothing like the old Haitian story of zombies.” His head tilted curiously as he examined his teacher to try to pick out any defining details. By all accounts, she looked human to him. “Hmm… interesting.” Rio nodded, and then grimaced at the next question, “About that… I don’t really have a car right now. It belongs to my parents and I’m not really talking to them right now and- y’know what? It’s a whole thing. Clearly we have other things going on right now. Maybe I can call my friend Blanche. Or one of my roommates! Maybe they can help us? Or uh… Where are we taking her anyways?”

“Wow, kid, that’s really one heck of a compliment,” Morgan deadpanned. “But...yes. I got hurt really bad and I died. Two months ago now. That’s why I missed so much school towards the end of the semester. I died, Rio.” She looked down at the woman gnashing her teeth at the brain bits in the tupperware. “But I have people who help take care of me. I can stay fed easily. I have a home. I have a girlfriend that loves me. I even have magic pills for my new zombie physiology that help manage all the depression I’ve got over dying. I don’t know which of those this woman is missing, but whatever it is, she’s still a person. She’s as much of a person as I am. Does that make sense?” She looked at him earnestly. Rio was a good kid. Rio didn’t believe in hurting people. He had to get it. Maybe it was hard to see the woman in her own right. Even Morgan couldn’t do that. She didn’t know her name or if she was happy before she died or how long she had been dragging herself out of bed. She could only see her pain. She had to be in so much pain to have sunk this far. The days of starving had to have been excruciating. With this kind of decay, maybe it was even weeks. “I was thinking of getting her to the butcher’s, but I don’t know if their stock will be enough for her. It’s worth a shot, if we can keep her from getting noticed. “Unless you wanna do a run? You got venmo, Rio?” She asked. The brains were almost gone, and of the two of them, Rio was the one most in danger. And this wasn’t his problem, now that she was mostly subdued. “You don’t have to, you know. I can take this from here.”

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say at this moment. Clearly, Orion had no idea what he was doing. He had grown up knowing about the supernatural. He loved learning about them and yet despite this he still had just barely scratched the surface. He knew nothing about Zombies, or real zombies at least. “Wow. I’m uh- sorry? That doesn’t sound like a good thing. But you don’t look dead.” Rio tried, he didn’t think that helped redeem him. “Okay that was probably a bad thing to say too. But despite all that… I’m really glad that you have a good support system, y’know? That must have been a really difficult thing to go through and… well I’m really glad things seem okay now. At least, hopefully everything’s okay.” And Morgan seemed dead set on helping this woman right now. And though the woman tied up seemed a little… murdery right now, Rio believed that with some help she could end up like Morgan seemed now. Completely put together. “I believe you. And I’m in. Let’s help her. Uh- I can run somewhere and get stuff… I don’t know what to get. But tell me and I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, you can tell that to my necrosis whenever I wait too long to eat my wheaties.” Morgan mumbled. You can test my pulse too, if you want.” She held out her hand, the bite standing out as a heavy shadow on her pale skin. “And no, you don’t need to be sorry--” But Rio was. He was just a kid doing his best with problems way bigger than himself. “But thank you. I know you mean it well.” She stared at the woman writhing in front of them again. She could see, too clearly now, what hunters did. A raving thing, a disaster they needed to triage before it got out of hand, a monster… “I can venmo you. A hundred dollars so should be able to buy out the brains at the butcher shop, whatever other weird organs they’ve got. That’s a start.” And while he was out she could maybe scrounge up a deer. They wandered through near dusk in little clusters, and it was the time of year when fauns were left to hide in the tall grass while mothers hunted. If she was quick and lucky, she’d be able to nab one for this woman to have. And maybe then, maybe if they were lucky, she could be okay. Morgan wrenched a hand through her hair and took out her phone to send the money over.

Orion laughed, happy that despite the horrible events that had clearly befallen his teacher without him even knowing about it, she could maintain some level of humor. “Don’t worry. I believe you. It’s uh- definitely not my first rodeo with the supernatural.” Even if he didn’t quite understand, he did believe. “Um right. I got it. Give me…” Rio paused, checking his phone for the time, “Twenty minutes. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

One of the good things about being a hunter? Superhuman endurance. Rio was definitely not in shape, but he could run for a while without having to stop. From here, he was pretty sure that it would be more efficient to get a car. If he could run home and borrow Ricky’s truck then he could get to the butcher shop and back without too much trouble. So he ran towards their house as fast as he possibly could, not letting anything distract him.

It worried Morgan how much animals still trusted her. The faun was too scared of the moaning woman six yards ahead to move. Morgan was able to settle down near it, still as death, and when it came over to sniff her out of curiosity, she took its neck and snapped it. The head dangled limp from the body like a toy that had lost all its stuffing. She carried it back to the woman and did not have to wait for her to wriggle and strain against her bonds trying to eat it. Morgan took out a knife and sliced the creature open neatly so she didn’t have to fight. Then she walked away enough yards so the smell of it wouldn’t compel her to steal a starving woman’s meal and licked blood and skin from her hands.

When Rio finally returned, Morgan was perched atop a large cross marker, stained with blood for all that she’d tried to keep herself clean. “Just unwrap everything for her and drop it where she can reach,” she called. “And then, you know, come over here so you don’t get bitten.”

Buying brains from a butcher was perhaps the most uncomfortable Orion had ever been. Despite this incredibly odd request, the butcher didn’t seem to think much of it at all. Which could only mean that this was not an uncommon request that he received. Which probably implied that Morgan and this woman were not the only zombies in town. It hadn’t occurred until now that Morgan could have been the one that turned this woman. But no. His Professor wouldn’t do that. Not unless she had to for some reason. Right?

Rio drove back to Morgan mostly in silence. He hated driving the truck. He didn’t trust himself with a big car. Plus he could barely see while driving the thing and hated ruining Ricky’s seat and mirror placement. But desperate times. Rio parked and hopped out, extending his arm so he could hold the brains at a distance from himself. “I’m here!” Rio yelled out, stopping when he noticed that Morgan had blood all over her shirt. Oh no. “What happened? Are you okay?” Rio asked. Despite this, maybe because he was too trusting just as Athena had always insulted him with, he followed Morgan’s instructions. Unwrapping the brains and tossing it to the tied up woman before hopping away and standing close to his professor. He could smell the blood that stained her. It was fresh.

“It’s okay, Rio,” Morgan said. “What do you think I’m gonna do, die again?” She smirked. A beat later, maybe too late, she wondered if that was maybe a bad joke. Rio knew about the supernatural, but maybe not about death. He hadn’t studied zombies before in his big secret library. He barely seemed comfortable with hauling brains and organs over from the butcher. Morgan sighed with a grimace and tried again. “I killed a faun for her. I didn’t think that was something you needed to be around to see. Brains sustain zombies best, but freshly dead meat is…” Her stomach grumbled, twisting. “Like candy on Halloween. You can’t not have any.” She looked down at him, still clinging to her perch. Her fingers had worn notches into the rock, worrying at the grain to keep from breaking off Bambi’s leg and going to town herself. “It’s just how we’re made,” she said quietly. “When the mother comes back to see if her faun is still around, I’ll try to get her too, if our friend isn’t back to herself yet.” She hesitated a moment, wondering if they had crossed into over sharing territory, if this was already too much for one troubled kid to bear in one night. “You don’t have to watch, or be around for any of that,” she said. “This is just another Tuesday for me, but it was a lot to get used to. It still is. You’ve been a big help, though. If all this turns out okay, it’s gonna be because of you. Because you cared.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You uh...you can ask me questions, if you have any. I know all this is...strange. And lived experience can tell you certain things a book can’t.” She offered him a smile, her fear weighing on her softness. Please don’t think less of me for this.

Orion laughed nervously. Was that Morgan being offended? Or Morgan making a joke. A few seconds later and Morgan smirked at Rio, hopefully confirming that it had been a joke instead. “A faun.” Rio repeated, mostly to himself. He was still processing. Rio appreciated the information. He was taking mental notes, making sure to remember all of the information that he was learning about zombies. Maybe he would head back to the building tomorrow, start digging through his books for some information on the undead. The whole thing seemed like Alain’s side, but Rio knew better than to trust a hunter’s point of view when it came to the supernatural. Rio knew from personal experience that those teachings were biased. “I don’t- I usually don’t do that well around blood. But uh- I don’t want to make you do this stuff by yourself.” Morgan opened the board for questions. And boy, did Rio have questions. Way more questions than he possibly knew how to order and ask. “I- I have questions. But right now seems like the wrong time, y’know? With her… in the state she is in.” He sighed. Just another person in this town that has been through some awful experience that Rio wasn’t able to help prevent.

Morgan nodded and watched the woman eat. It might’ve been faster to let her have her hands back, but Morgan remembered the complete haze around her mind when she woke into her feeding frenzy. She hadn’t even known her own name, much less ‘eating people bad.’ If the wrong person had been in the room, she probably would’ve done everything she could to tear them to bits. “Anyone tell you lately what a good kid you are?” She asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she hoped nonetheless that someone was encouraging his generosity. Even if he could probably stand to get less squeamish. In time, the groans of the woman changed. Morgan gestured for Rio to stay back and made her way slowly over.

There was hardly anything left of the faun, but just enough that Morgan couldn’t stop herself from reaching into its ruined skull and scooping out its small black eyes and the thin tissue of its cheek muscle to munch on. She knelt down near the woman, still working the flesh in her mouth. “Hey,” she said, gently as she could with her mouth half full. “Can you talk? Are you good now?” The woman groaned and dashed herself into the red stained grass, angling her mouth for the rest of the faun. “Okay! Not feeling the impulse control. That’s okay! But I’m gonna need like...one intelligible word before you get this carcass.”

“Mmmhh. Aaarr...oh..k-kay.”

Blessed universe she was okay.

Morgan went around and loosened her bonds enough for her to wriggle free and stepped back as she held the faun and the scraps of flesh she hadn’t devoured yet as if they were all the treasure in the world. “You...shouldn’t...have done this,” she panted.

“I don’t see why not, Morgan replied. “What’s your name?”

The woman sucked the last remnants of life from the faun’s ribs and reached for a scattering of brain bits to shove into her mouth. “Ashley,” she said at last. “I didn’t--” She paused to swallow. As she wiped the mess from her chin she caught sight of the blood and mess on her hands, matching Morgan’s and then some. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not any of this, you idiots.” And then she was sprinting downhill, stumbling and falling over her own feet but never stopping, the dead animal still tucked in her arms. Morgan reached for her, but caught only the edge of her torn hiking vest. It fell right off, like it had been waiting to all along.

“It hurts sometimes, being like this, Rio,” she said, hanging her head as Ashley disappeared from sight. “Even when you have everything you need, it can still hurt.” There wasn’t any point in tracking her down again, not when Rio could get hurt, and he had done so much already. She willed herself to look up and gave him the saddest apologetic smile. “Sorry you got sucked into this. What were you up to before anyway?”

Orion felt the heat burning his cheeks as the blush came on. Good kid. They weren’t unfamiliar words, not anymore. But they still warmed him each time he heard them. He supposed being starved for acceptance and praise did that to a kid. “Uh- I get told that more so recently than ever before. But uh- Thank you.” Whether or not she was expecting an answer, Rio thought it would be rude to just not thank her for the compliment.

Over time, Rio witnessed first hand how the almost primal hunger seemed to die down from the woman. Slowly, her eating became less frantic and more of that of a human that had not eaten in days. Morgan was fearless, strolling right up to her. Though he supposed death probably helped to quell many of the fears that Rio felt right now.

The zombie- Ashley- seemed confused. Scared, even. And despite what the two had done to help her, Ashley took off the moment she was comprehensive and scurried off down the hill, leaving Rio and Morgan by themselves. And all of that fear and anguish that Rio could see in Ashley’s face, must have been similar to what Morgan had been through. Her words were raw, her smile doing nothing to mask the sadness or pain present in her voice. This was her life now. Something she was forced to deal with in order to stay alive. Or re-alive, which wasn’t actually a word but would have to apply for this situation. “You helped her. Even though she couldn’t see it right now… you just protected people from potentially getting hurt. And you protected her from making a terrible mistake. That’s… incredible.” Rio breathed, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath the entire time. “I was just at the old Scribe building, heading home for the night when I heard the noises outside the cemetery.”

“Stars, I hope so,” Morgan sighed. She didn’t feel like she had done much. She had hoped to at least talk to someone else like her for a little longer, to ask what she really needed to get by for longer than a day or two. Who did she have? How had she starved so badly? All she had to go on was one torn up hiking vest and a name. She pushed the thought of Ashley to the back of her mind. Maybe she could put out a call online or ask the ghosts in the cemetery to keep an eye out, just in case she turned up here again or...something. But for now she was as good as lost.

Morgan exhaled. Without the need for air, her body retained most of its tension from the past hour until she worked consciously at it, slumping and rolling her neck and shoulders and arms. “You helped too, Rio. I wouldn’t have been able to manage her by myself. Come on,” she urged gently. She held out an arm, beckoning him close, imagining a one armed hug to calm his nerves. Then she saw the blood on her hands and thought better on it. She let it fall limp at her side and wiped it down on her skirt. “I appreciate that you tried. That counts for something. Let’s get you home, okay?”

#brainful process #wr rio #wr chatzy #wr rio chatzy #wr

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