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i-love-ptv · 1 month ago

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Busted and Blue ｡𖦹 ⋆｡

Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader

It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..

Wc: 3,727

Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz

An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚

Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)

Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33

“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.

Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”

You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.

Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.

“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.

But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.

“Wait!”

“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.

Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.

You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”

You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.

“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”

You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.

“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”

Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.

He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.

And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.

Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.

But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.

Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.

Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.

With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.

You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.

But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.

Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.

And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!

You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.

You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.

“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.

You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.

Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.

“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”

He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.

After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.

You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.

You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.

Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.

“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”

They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.

Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.

“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.

“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.

“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.

You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.

You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.

There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.

“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.

After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.

You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.

There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.

He wants to protect you, he needs to.

It’s his job as your boyfriend.

Your future husband.

Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.

But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.

“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”

Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.

He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.

He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.

…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.

That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.

The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.

But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.

Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.

They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.

He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.

It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.

“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.

Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.

And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.

Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.

Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.

“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.

Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”

“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”

“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.

But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.

When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.

It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.

“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.

“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.

Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.

Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.

So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.

“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.

You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.

You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.

“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”

You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.

“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.

You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.

“Dollie? You up here babe?”

You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.

….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.

“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“

The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.

You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.

Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.

“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.

Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.

“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”

When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.

You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.

Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.

He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.

“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”

Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.

“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”

Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.

“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”

There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.

It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.

“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.

“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.

His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.

Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.

He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.

Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.

“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”

Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.

“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.

And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.

Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”

Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”

Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.

But he hesitates to knock.

He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:

First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.

Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.

Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.

Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.

You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.

Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.

His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.

He knocks at the door.

•······················•

There’s a knock at the door.

A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.

You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.

You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.

“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.

“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.

“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.

You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.

You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.

You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.

“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”

Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.

Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.

The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.

The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.

He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.

Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.

You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.

This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.

Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.

It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.

“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.

“..Do what?”

“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.

Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back

There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.

You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.

Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.

You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.

You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.

While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.

“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.

Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”

You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”

“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.

After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.

While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.

Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.

He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.

Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.

That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.

- -

“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”

“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”

Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.

Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”

- -

If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.

As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.

Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.

Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.

If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.

Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.

He can’t help it. You make him whole.

He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.

Because you’re his love; his life.

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#Spotify #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx x reader #obx x you

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empire-of-the-words · 3 months ago

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AU where Bruce and Talia get married and Ra'd just... hangs around

He finds Wayne Manor’s version of the mother-in-law suite and refuses to leave

He had LoA meetings there for a while, but Bruce kept spying on them ("It’s my house!") so confidential information isn't discussed there, but everything else is fair game

Alfred's cookies means the League book club is suddenly very popular

None of the kids can bring friends home without having to explain "Yeah that's my (step)grandpa wearing the dramatic robes cursing my dad for stopping him from killing the mayor. Yeah the ninjas are his too. Same with the endangered animals wandering around the house. No it's actually pretty calm today"

Alfred starts cooking larger amounts of food because there’s always a ninja or two (or ten) hanging around, and he’s determined to be a good host ("Why is there a cake tonight?" "It’s Bob's birthday, Master Bruce " "Ninja Bob? Damn I forgot to get him a gift.")

Ra's always spoils his grandkids rotten, of course, but in the weirdest ways possible. Mainly pets. Bruce does not appreciate this.

When Cass shows up, she and Ra's have a staring contest for an hour straight. No one's quite sure what happened, and no one really wants to know

And his shenanigans aren't confined to private either! If there's a gala, he's there, and he does not care about social etiquette. That man makes headlines way more often than not ("'Wayne FIL Has Bodyguards Attack Socialite For Wearing Fur'." "That fur comes from an endangered fox; how else was I supposed to react?")

Ra's likes to match gala outfits with Talia, Talia likes to match with Bruce and Damian (and whatever kids consider her their mom), and the other kids like to join in on the joke, meaning the entire family is matching except for Dick, who refuses out of spite (a picture of them all together quickly becomes a meme format)

The Halloween gala is filled with people in ninja "costumes"

The Court of Owls tries to assassinate Ra's once, not because of the League of Assassins thing, just because he got on the nerves of one too many members. Taking them down is one of the few times Ra's and Dick get along, and it freaks everyone out so much they're determined to never let it happen again

The family is divided on whether they find him and his shenanigans amusing or not. Talia, Jason and Duke do. Bruce and Dick don't. No one's quite sure about Cass, and Damian won't say either way. Tim starts a mini war with Ra's, with the casualties ending up as 2 chandeliers, 5 computers, 4 antique vases, at least 7 League plots, the microwave and Tim’s spleen

He does manage to find the Lazarus Pit infecting Gotham’s water supply and isolate it. So. That's nice.

#ra's al ghul #batman #batfam #al ghul family #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #talia al ghul #cassandra cain #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #duke thomas #tim drake #as in every au tim finds a way to lose his spleen #league of assassins #brutalia #(minor)#ras al ghul

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earlysunshines · 1 month ago

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love at your door

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

synopsis: you wake up on the couch to find out that it’s actually not your couch and oh my god why is your hot neighbor sitting across from you watching tv???

warnings: sana is a FLIRT ; reader is a loser ; sana is a losersexual ; pacing is iffy but it’s bc i wanted it to be short ; alcohol ; anything else i didn’t mention ; not proofread so prob spelling errors idk i wrote most on my phone

a/n: based off the time i got drunk and fell asleep in the wrong room… anyways my love for sana will NEVER DIE guess who’s BACK.

you wake up with a groan, face smushed against a cushion that's definitely not yours, and the first thing that hits you—aside from the dull pounding in your head—is the faint sound of a tv playing in the background.

slowly, you crack your eyes open, blinking against the morning light. you finally realize you’re not in your room, and the couch you're sprawled out on… also not yours.

you sit up too quickly and regret it immediately, head spinning, the room around you momentarily blurred. but then it sharpens, and your heart nearly stops when you spot her. sana, your neighbor—your gorgeous, gorgeous neighbor that you’ve been eyeing since you moved in—sitting across from you on her armchair, completely unbothered with her legs tucked underneath her, eyes fixed on the tv but clearly aware you’re awake now.

she’s holding a ceramic mug in one hand, and for some reason, that little detail makes everything so much worse.

because—how did you end up here?

you glance down at yourself and, of course, you’re still in your luigi costume from last night. the tight green tank top clings to you under the denim overalls (one strap purposely loose and falling off your shoulder because you’re desperate for attention in these trying times) which you had decided to wear in some ill-fated attempt to look “hot” while still committing to the theme. you had succeeded, at least you think, judging from the compliments you vaguely remember through the drunken haze of the halloween party. but now, under sana’s gaze, you suddenly feel a lot less confident about it.

“jesus christ,” you mutter, rubbing your temples, trying to piece together what happened. “what—”

“morning sleepy,” sana says, finally looking over at you, lips curling into a small, amused smile. “you came stumbling in after the party. i figured it was safer to let you crash here than send you back to your place like that.”

this has to be a nightmare.

her voice is casual, like this isn’t completely mortifying for you. like this isn’t the exact scenario your sleep-deprived, engineering-major brain has dreamed up in countless fleeting moments when you’ve caught glimpses of her in the hallways (well, you figured you’d be in a less embarassing scene) but now it’s real, and your heart is thudding painfully loud in your chest, and you can’t decide if you want to disappear or if you never want to leave.

(the first option might be the smartest)

you clear your throat, pushing down the urge to bury your face in your hands. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t—i didn’t mean to crash here like that. i must’ve been drunk out of my mind i— fuck, nayeon, that bitch… im sorry my friends they’re—“

“don’t worry about it,” she waves off your apology, taking a sip from her mug, her gaze briefly dipping down to your outfit before flicking back to your face. “i never knew luigi could look this good.” she adds, a smirk playing on her face that renders you weak.

you feel heat rise to your face instantly, and you’re pretty sure it’s not just the aftermath of all the alcohol you consumed last night. her words hang in the air, teasing, but there’s something else in her tone that sends a jolt through you. something that makes you suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you feel, the snug fit of the tank top and the way her eyes had lingered on your exposed skin just for a second.

“uh—” you start, but your voice comes out strained, so you clear your throat again, scrambling for a response. “thank you…?”

she grins at your awkwardness, a soft, almost mischievous smile that only adds to the rising tension in the room. “you’re welcome.”

you force a laugh, trying to ignore the way her gaze makes your skin tingle. “right, well… thanks for, uh, taking care of me. and not letting me do something even more embarrassing.”

“more embarrassing than this?” sana raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your discomfort. she gestures toward your outfit with a nod, and you can’t help but huff a laugh this time, the tension breaking just a little.

“point taken,” you mutter, swinging your legs off the couch to stand, only for a wave of dizziness to hit. sana’s on her feet in a second, steadying you with a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but firm.

“easy,” she murmurs, and you freeze, suddenly way too aware of how close she is. her hand lingers just a second too long, and when she finally lets go, you feel like you can breathe again—but it doesn’t stop your pulse from racing.

her eyes dart down to the base of your neck and the intensity of her gaze is amplified.

“quite a hickey, huh?”

“what?” you had to be drunk drunk. you can’t recall anything about kissing girls, you’re not the type to be like that when under the influence. “that’s— i can’t even remember.”

“had fun, didn’t you?” sana looks back into your eyes, making you shrink despite her smaller frame. you feel sorry, you want to apologize for something you can’t even remember—you have no clue why. she’s just your neighbor. she’s the neighbor down the hall that greeted you kindly when you had moved in to town. the same neighbor that you had to blink multiple times at before realizing she’s not a fairytale princess that’s creeped out of the books.

you glance at the door, needing an escape, even though a very large part of you doesn’t want to leave just yet. but standing in her living room in yesterday’s clothes with your head still buzzing is doing nothing for your nerves.

“i should, uh, probably go,” you say, pointing vaguely toward the door.

sana steps back, giving you space, but her expression shifts into something playful as she watches you. “right. but hey—if you ever need a place to crash again, my couch is always open.”

you blink, not sure if she’s joking or if there’s more to that offer. but before you can overthink it, you nod, mumbling a quick, “thanks, i’ll keep that in mind,” before heading for the door.

and just as you’re about to step out, sana calls after you, her voice teasing, warm. “hey, luigi.”

you pause, turning to look at her.

she leans casually against the doorframe, eyes glinting with that same playfulness, and she gives you a slow, once-over before her lips curve into a smirk. “seriously. never knew luigi could be this hot.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and all you can do is laugh, a nervous, breathless sound, before quickly slipping out the door, your mind buzzing as you head back to your place.

sana always caught your eye, but now… now you’re pretty sure you’re never going to stop thinking about her.

—

the whole day you’re quite literally losing your mind. as soon as you crash onto your bed when you get back home, you cringe at how much of an idiot you are, and at the fact that you accepted every single drink handed to you by nayeon.

and then the next day, you’re still replaying the entire morning in your head—how sana’s words lingered, the way her eyes had flickered over you with that teasing smile. it’s been driving you to distraction all day. you couldn’t focus during class, barely heard a word your professor said, and by the time your last lecture ends, you’ve come to a decision.

you’re going to do something about it.

(you’re undeniably an idiot, but everyone in your circle knows that anyway.)

so after class, you stop by the small flower shop near campus. it’s not something you’d typically do—flowers and chocolate, that’s so cliché, right? but somehow it feels like the right move. sana had caught you completely off guard yesterday, and maybe it’s time you do the same.

you have a small conversation with the florist, who recommends her favorite assortment of tulips. you don’t want to do too much, so you settle with yellow tulips, their petals delicate and bright. simple, but thoughtful (you hope).

next, you pick out a small box of chocolates, nothing fancy but enough to show you’ve put some real thought into this. because somehow, leaving things the way they were feels unfinished.

you can’t possibly just leave it like that, you can’t have the only real memory and meaningful interaction between you and sana consist of you flat out drunk and at a loss for words.

you’re already a loser as it is, and especially when sana is around—whether that’s when you two both end up at the mailbox together, with you losing the ability to speak when she simply smiles and compliments you; and also the simple greetings when you two arrive at around the same time on wednesday’s and thursdays (not that you take note of it—you definitely do).

when you get home, you scribble out a short note on a small card:

hi sana,

thanks for letting me crash on your couch yesterday. i’m really, really sorry.

here’s a little something as a thank you. hope you like tulips.

and chocolate.

– luigi

you read it over twice, fighting the nervous energy bubbling up inside you. it’s playful, casual, but maybe—hopefully—it’ll make her smile. you take the flowers, chocolates, and the note, placing everything neatly in a small brown paper bag before heading down the hall.

when you reach her doorstep, your heart is pounding. you place the bag gently on the ground, adjusting the flowers one last time so they look perfect. then, you take a deep breath and knock, firm but quick, before spinning on your heel and rushing back to your own place.

you barely make it through the door before the nerves fully hit. your heart races, and you lean back against the door, letting out a heavy breath. what if she doesn’t like it? what if it’s too much?

but before your thoughts spiral too far, you hear the faint sound of her door opening down the hall, followed by the quiet shuffle of her picking up the bag.

there’s silence for a bit before you hear the door close again, earning a sigh of relief.

if your friends were to find out literally everything that had happened in the span of less than forty-eight hours, they’d tease you until you had to move out again.

—

the next night, you’re at your desk, buried in the engineering assignment youve been given that same day. something about fluid dynamics, a dense problem set that has you scribbling equations and checking graphs on your laptop. it’s not exactly easy to focus—your mind keeps wandering back to sana, the flowers, the chocolates, and really just everything about her. every time you think about her, a small smile tugs at your lips, despite the headache that’s building from the workload.

then, out of nowhere, you hear a knock at the door.

you blink, glancing at the clock. you’re not expecting anyone, and for a second, you wonder if you imagined it. but when the knock repeats, you push your chair back, setting aside your notes. still a little distracted by the assignment, you take your time getting up, stretching briefly before finally heading to the door.

when you open it, there’s no one there. just silence, the hallway empty. but as you glance down, you spot something on the floor—a folded piece of paper. your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but grin as you bend down to pick it up, already knowing who it’s from.

you unfold the note, and sana’s handwriting greets you:

so, you’re kinda cute even in that luigi costume—i couldn’t stop thinking about you

(i think you’re cute in uniform and not)

though i have to ask—what’s with the hickey? did luigi have a little too much fun? ;)

anyway, i liked the flowers. i liked the chocolates too.

but i think i like the person giving them more.

you should come over in five minutes if you’re not too shy. i mean, you weren’t that shy the other night ;)

– sana <3

your face heats up instantly as you read the hickey line, hand instinctively reaching to touch your neck. there’s no way, right? you don’t remember—

then it hits you. fuck. it wasn’t a hickey. nayeon had bullied you about how you ran into something that night at her party, some broom? wall? maybe momo elbowed you? or something. you’re not the type to just fuck random girls, not when you’re loyal to your neighbor that you utter maybe three sentences a week to if you’re lucky. but the thought of what had happened that night isn’t even important because now your mind’s racing, thinking about how sana’s teasing you. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you all giddy and nervous.

you reread the note, feeling that familiar nervous excitement grow. come over in five minutes if you’re not too shy. your pulse picks up. there’s no way you’re saying no to that.

without bothering to change out of your hoodie and sweats, you grab your keys, locking the door behind you as you head down the hall. your heart’s still racing, and your mind’s swirling with a mix of nerves and anticipation as you stop in front of sana’s door.

when she opens it, she’s standing there with that same playful smirk—sultry, seductive, and somehow so cute at the same time. her eyes gleam like she already knows exactly what’s going through your mind.

"took you long enough," she says, stepping aside to let you in, her voice warm, teasing. "for a second, i thought you’d be too shy to show up."

you huff a laugh, shaking your head as you walk inside, glancing around her apartment again. “i’m– i’m not.” it sounds unconvincing, but the woman in front of you thinks it’s adorable.

she quirks a brow, then smiles at that, closing the door behind you. "good to know." she says, handing you a small glass of wine and suddenly everything is a little bit too intimate.

the two of you end up sitting on her couch, the tv still softly playing in the background like it had been the other morning. the conversation flows easily—there’s that natural comfort between you now, even with the teasing tension that lingers under the surface.

she talks about herself and you talk about yourself too, piquing both your interests. small talk grows into something bigger and you two enjoy the newfound information you’re both learning about each other. you’re breaking the ice, maybe easing into the cold waters in comparison to splashing into it.

“so, about that hickey,” she says, leaning back into the couch, her grin widening as she glances pointedly at your neck. her leg crosses over the other and she holds the glass in her hand near her lips, a small smirk tugging at one corner. “i’m just saying, it looks a little suspicious.”

you roll your eyes, your face heating up again. “it’s not a hickey. i swear.”

“uh-huh,” she teases, clearly not letting it go. “sure it’s not.”

“apparently i hit a broom or wall—something like that.” you shake your head, laughing lightly, but there’s an undeniable pull between you two.

the way she looks at you, the way her smile lingers a little too long, and the way her knee brushes against yours every now and then—you have to hold yourself back from saying and doing a lot of things. it’s in the way her voice lowers when she speaks, soft and reeling.

you spend the next hour just talking, laughing, sharing random stories about classes, her teasing you about your engineering homework, and you teasing her back about her terrible taste in tv shows. every time she smiles or laughs, it feels like a small victory, something you want to keep chasing. and every time you speak her eyes are in deep contact with yours, spiking your heartrate without fail.

eventually, the conversation lulls, and there’s a moment of quiet where she looks at you, her eyes softening just slightly. “you know,” she murmurs, “i’m really glad you came over. this… was nice.”

“yeah,” you say, smiling back, your heart racing in your chest. “it was.”

“i always thought you were really cute,” she says before sipping on her white wine, “but i’m not a chaser.”

“is that right?”

“unless you count me responding to your apology, then yes.”

you laugh, setting the empty glass down.

“well,” you begin, biting your lip. “i like to pursue.”

“quite forward isn’t it?”

“you invited me over for wine, it doesn’t get more forward than what you’ve brought to the table.”

“is that so?” sana hums, tilting her head. she bites the inside of her lip, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “i think it can get more forward.”

your breath hitches in the slightest and you can tell sana’s noticed when she lets out that signature chuckle.

“well, i think it’s time to end the night. you were working on assignments prior, no?” you frown at the suggestion.

“i— yeah, you’re right.”

there’s a knowing smile on her lips, but you ignore it and stand up with her as she walks you to her door.

“i had a great time pretty girl,” she puts her hand on your forearm while saying it, her touch burning your skin. “hopefully we can be much more forward next time.”

you laugh. “i like the sound of that.”

“mhm, goodnight.” she says, grinning at you before meekly closing her door.

you purse your lips before walking down the hall and reaching your door. your hand lingers on the doorknob before you turn it and head in, feeling a sense of regret.

…

sana hears a knock at her door ten minutes later, turning off the sink and drying her hands before walking over to see what’s up.

the moment the door opens and sana sees you standing there, the look on her face is priceless.

“what—” she starts, raising an eyebrow, clearly confused, but before she can finish, you step forward, your hand reaching out to grab her forearm gently. you pull her just a little closer, your heart pounding as you look at her.

“i want to be more forward,” you admit, voice low, the question hanging in the space between you.

for a second, she just stares at you, wide-eyed, before a soft laugh escapes her. she gets it now. “oh, we’re moving pretty fast, aren’t we?” she teases, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “take me out to dinner.”

you grin, and she hesitates for a beat, but then she nods, and it’s enough—enough to send your pulse racing, enough for you to lean in. before you can close the distance, though, her hand comes up, fingers lightly brushing the base of your neck, and you feel her shiver as she touches you.

“you say that like,” you pause, observing the surprise and allure in her features. “like you didn’t eye-fuck me the other night.”

her cheeks flush as her fingers linger on your skin, and you catch the way she bites her lip, trying to hide her own smile. you don’t wait any longer.

you lean in and meet her lips with yours, melting into it just as she does.

it starts soft, just a gentle press of your lips against hers, but it quickly deepens as sana lets out a quiet, surprised sound that turns into something more—something she’s clearly enjoying a little too much. her hand moves to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, and the way she kisses you back sends a thrill through you.

before you know it, she’s dragging you inside, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other guiding you back toward the couch. the door closes behind you, but you barely notice, too focused on the way her lips move against yours.

when you finally pull back for air, she’s breathless, grinning like she’s just won something. “you should’ve been this forward earlier,” she teases, her thumb brushing against the side of your neck.

“yeah?” you ask, a little breathless yourself, but you can’t stop smiling.

“yeah,” she murmurs, eyes flickering down to your lips before she leans in again, kissing you slower this time, savoring it. sana is a great kisser, the type of kisser that leaves you wanting more and more. after a moment, she pulls back, just enough to whisper, “maybe you should stay a little longer.”

you can’t help but laugh softly. “you sure you can handle that?”

“please,” she says, eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous look. “you weren’t that shy the other night.”

“well i was drunk and—“

before you can even finish your response, she’s kissing you again, and this time, you’re more than happy to let her pull you even closer.

#kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader

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illusioninfnty · 28 days ago

Text

Fight, Flight, Fuck!

જ⁀➴ Fuck or Die : Day 21

feat. Josh Washington ᯓ★ A scary man corners you alone, hopeless in only a mere towel. Your first reaction? Plead that you'll do anything to stay alive.

warnings! : NSFW 18+, lowkey bisexual reader if you squint, josh in psycho costume, dub-con bc reader doesn't know it's him, breast play, no prep, fingering, degradation, one (1) pussy slap, unprotected sex, creampie, use of chloroform (not during sex)

ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You sink down deeper into the hot water that fills the large bathtub, closing your eyes in relaxation. At the other end of the tub lies Sam, classical music blasting through her earbuds. It wasn’t your initial intention to be sharing a bath with her, but there was only enough hot water for one bath, and neither of you were going to give it up.

And to be completely honest, you really didn’t mind it much.

You don’t realize that you were drifting off until you hear the slam of the bathroom door. You jolt, some of the wash around you splashing outside of the tub. Sam hears it too, with the way she pulls her earbuds out of her ears and looks around.

“What was that?” she asks, voice low with caution.

Your eyes narrow. “I’m not sure.” You pull yourself out of the tub, grabbing a white towel to dry yourself off with. When you go to reach for your clothes that you left on the ground, they’re nowhere to be seen. You look around the room, trying to see if you maybe forgot where you placed them, but to no avail your clothes have seemingly disappeared.

“Hey Sam?”

She hums in response.

“Where are our clothes?”

“Shit,” she hisses, looking around frantically. “Ugh, those jerks. Seriously guys? Not cool!” she yells out, in the direction of the door.

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll go find them.” You secure your towel to yourself, adjusting it so all of your more private areas are covered.

“You sure you don’t need any back up?”

“Don’t worry. I can handle these pricks.”

She laughs, placing her headphones back in her ears and resting her head against the edge of the tub.

With that you head outside, shutting the bathroom door behind you and leaving Sam to her peaceful bath.

As you walk through the lodge and down the stairs, you’re unsettled by how dark and quiet it seems, much more than it should be with some or your friends still roaming around.

“Guys?” You’re only met with the eerie silence, your voice the only thing echoing back to you in the spacious lodge.

“Alright, you got us. It’s not funny anymore, give our clothes back!” you shout out, hoping someone, anyone, will take pity on you and relent.

You try again as you walk through the lodge. “Josh? Chris? Ash? Where the fuck are you?”

No answer. You sigh, frustrated, and make your way to the cinema room, hoping you can find them in there.

When you arrive and begin to search the area, a deep, scratchy voice intervenes. “Looking for me? I don’t think you’ll have much luck by looking, poor little thing.”

Your blood runs cold at the unfamiliar voice that rings out throughout the lodge. You turn to run out the room, but you gasp as a figure emerges in the entryway.

He is large and imposing, at least a head taller than you. His dark blue overalls look to be stained with a dark liquid, and you aren’t sure you want to find out what it is. The scariest of all though, is the mask that he wears. It’s white, caked in dirt and grime, reminiscent of a skull. The ugly teeth of the mask protrude out, and the black of the eye holes has it so you can’t make out the man’s actual eyes.

You go to scream and run away, but the man swiftly picks you up with ease, clasping a hand over your mouth and shushing you.

“Don’t make a sound if you want to live.” He whispers it into your ear, his voice deep and guttural, as if he’s purposely lowering his voice to sound scarier.

Whatever he's trying to do though, it’s working. You feel your legs tremble beneath you, and you know you’d collapse onto the floor if he wasn’t holding you up.

“P-please,” you whimper when he finally takes his gloved hand off of your mouth, “I’ll do anything. Just let me go.”

He chuckles. “Anything?”

Fuck. You two sound like you just came straight out of a shitty porno. But maybe those girls had the right idea though. If this was going to be your one-way pass out of death, so be it.

“Y-yeah.” You nod. “Whatever you want.”

Your front sides are pressed against each other, and through it you can feel the stir of his cock as it hardens. One of his hands raises as it tears your towel from you in one fell swoop.

You gasp in surprise, standing naked in his grasp as he starts to fondle your breasts, tweaking at your nipples that harden from the exposure to the cool air of the cinema room.

A strangled noise leaves your lips as his hands continue to paw at your breasts, the pleasure reaching down to your pussy. Embarrassingly, you can feel yourself grow wet down there. Your cheeks heat up at the thought. In your defense, it had been a while since you’d had sex. Even any sort of over-the-clothes touching wasn’t something that you’d experienced since a couple of months ago, at this point.

Sensing your increased arousal, one of the man’s hands leaves your breast and travels down to your pussy. His fingers flit around your thighs, until he finally lands on your wet slit.

“Such a slut.” He hisses out. You bite your lip as his fingers begin to tease at your wet folds. “How many of your friends have touched you like this?”

“N-none,” you reply—truthfully. Your hips buck against his hands, desperate for some relief from his taunting.

“How many do you want to touch you like this?” he fires back.

Your silence seems to be louder than words could ever be. He chuckles darkly, and then brings his hand back to slap your pussy. You cry out, throwing your head back at the pain.

“Fucking dirty girl. What would they say if they saw you like this, acting like a slut for my cock? What would Josh say?”

“How the fuck do you know—mmph!” You're interrupted by him shoving two of his fingers up your pussy. You’re startled by the sudden intrusion, and silently thank whoever’s listening for making sure that you’re wet as he does so.

His fingers piston in and out of you relentlessly; all you can do is moan in response, helpless against his body.

The intrusion doesn’t distract you from the dread that pools in your stomach by this psycho knowing Josh’s name. You desperately hope that he’s safe right now. All you can do in the moment is let yourself indulge in the temporary pleasure, and then escape so that you can find your friends, warn them, and make sure that everyone’s okay.

Sensing your thoughts drifting off, the man removes his fingers from you. You whine at the loss, but your walls tighten around emptiness as you hear a zipper and his cock springs out, pressing against your backside.

“Gonna shove this all inside of you, and you’re going to enjoy it real good, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes!” you cry out wantonly, hoping to please him with your eagerness. But at the same time, you were a bit startled by just how much you wanted this, too.

Without another word he shoves his cock into you, and you melt as his thickness stretches you out so nicely. He begins thrusting at a steady rhythming, gripping your hips so tight you’re positive they’ll be bruised later today.

You’re helpless at this point, at the mercy of this man and his incessant rutting inside of you. The cinema room is filled with the sounds of his low grunts, your unintelligible mewls, and the sounds of skin-to-skin contact as his hips meet your ass with his hard thrusts.

You grab blindly behind you, clasping your hands onto him for some stability, the denim of his overalls scratching at your skin. You whimper as he bends you over some more, the new angle having his cock reach deeper inside you. Your moan is stretched out as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One hand comes down to reach for your clit, and you know you’re done for. As he begins to rub at the nub, your hips thrash widely. The combination of his cock hitting places inside of you that haven’t ever been touched and the sensations coming through from your sensitive clit have you cumming. You lurch forward as your breath comes out in broken gasps, falling apart on his cock.

The man isn’t too far behind you, as his hips begin to stutter and his grunts come out at a faster pace, in a more breathier tone. He whispers something too softly for your ears to recognize, and then he slams his hips against you one last time as he cums, the hot liquid filling you up all over.

His grasp on you loosens slightly, and you feel yourself shake as you attempt to recover from your orgasm, feeling his cum spill out of you and down your thighs. From behind you, the man rummages around, and you turn to see what he’s doing.

Before you can figure out what’s going on, a cloth comes up to your face, pressing tightly against your nose and mouth. You start to panic but soon feel dizzy, recognizing the sweet aroma coming from it to be chloroform. The world starts spinning around you, and you collapse in the man’s arms as his voice is that last thing you hear before you lose consciousness.

“Nighty, night, little kitten. I’ll get you all cleaned up.”

#josh washington x reader #josh washington x reader smut #until dawn x reader #until dawn smut #until dawn fanfiction #josh washington #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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bitchlessdino · 21 days ago

Text

mind your business (m)

Pairing: Frenemy!fem!reader x minder reader!chan

Genre: supernatural comedy, smut

Word count: 12.4k

tags: mean!reader, mean!chan, mentions needing to puke or die (both overdramtic af), implied consent (mind reading about desire and wants without audible consent), names (good girl or dirty girl), claustrophilia, stocking ripping, fingering, cunniligus, rough sex, brief spanking, unprotected sex.

Summary: If Chan had to read anyone’s mind, it had to be yours—the one person who seemed to loathe him with every ounce of your being. But before Halloween day, when that wish is suddenly granted, he begins to realize he’s opened a can of worms far bigger than he ever imagined—one that can’t be sealed shut again.

author note: hello, this bitch late but at least she's here thank you for @diamonddaze01 and @haologram for betareading for me i love yall and eveyone else enjoy!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys

“I don’t know what to be for Halloween.”

“Well, right now what you’re wearing is pretty scary.”

Lee Chan had never met anyone he couldn’t knock down a peg—not that he ever had to try. Everyone adored him, from classmates to coworkers, even Seungkwan, who followed his playful jabs with free lunches instead of a comeback. He was easygoing, always getting along with everyone. That is until you infiltrated his friend group. You weren’t like the others, and for the first time, Chan wasn’t sure if his effortless charm would be enough to dissolve your natural snark.

Chan shot you an unamused smile, his eyes narrowing as you answered his question. The two costumes he held drooped at his sides, a patient frustration written all over his features. “What are you even doing here if you won’t help me?”

You lifted your half-filled glass, the chill of the drink seeping through your fingers. “The free drinks, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, maybe leave the opinions to those who actually care, like Soonyoung here?”

Soonyoung beamed up at Chan, his excitement bubbling over as he playfully tugged at his friend’s hand like an overly enthusiastic toddler. “Aww, always here for you, buddy!”

You couldn’t resist a jab. “Well, if you did something interesting for once in your life, maybe I wouldn’t have to entertain myself.”

Chan groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Never mind. I’m just going to pick something else. Make yourself useful and try to stay quiet, okay?”

You scoffed, getting up from the sofa seat. “Whatever. I’m gonna find something to eat.”

Chan tried his best to stay positive around you, but it was difficult when every social encounter turned into a game of mental chess. But instead of being an actual opponent, you acted like the master, playing with his temperament as if he were merely a pawn. It was exhausting—trying to keep things cordial while knowing you were always pushing his buttons, testing tolerance, and working against him as if your sarcastic replies and eyerolls carried a vindictive purpose.

Chan collapsed onto his bed the moment you left the room, feeling completely defeated. Now, it was just him and Soonyoung left to figure out what he should wear for Halloween, mere days away from now.

“Why is she always like that?” he muttered, focused on the wrong thing,

Soonyoung shrugged, scooting beside you with his legs crossed on the bed. “I’m sure she means well; she just has…her own way of showing it.”

Chan sat up, looking at him in disbelief. “She’s hated me since the moment we met at the New Year’s party, and I still don’t get why.”

“That’s not true.” Soonyoung reassured, gently patting his friend on the head. “Maybe your personalities just clash a bit. She gets along with everyone else in the building.”

“Yeah, but why?” Chan sighed. “What did I even do?”

Soonyoung gave him a reassuring pat. “Chan, it’s not your fault. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.”

The more people like Soonyoung, or Seokmin, or Jeonghan reassured him that you’d come around, the less Chan believed it. It seemed like there would be nothing that could change your mind about him. Yet he couldn’t just accept that you disliked him for no reason. There had to be something behind the mean exterior, the jabs directed at either his character or even looks. Like he’s some kind of pushover. He would spend entire days wracking his brain, trying to understand why, and nothing would make sense.

What made it worse was how much it bothered him—maybe because you saw each other almost daily, living in the same neighborhood. You’d grown close to everyone else like you were a permanent fixture here, but when it came to him, it felt like you went out of your way to get under his skin. Your cold glances, your sharp remarks, all seemed to gnaw at him, twisting him up inside like a steel knife in an already gashing wound (okay, maybe he was being dramatic). He just couldn’t stand it.

If he could, he’d look right into your mind, figure out what you were thinking, make sense of your actions, and—just maybe—finally understand why you behave the way you do.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on it; there was a Halloween party to plan. Every year, the local gaming café downstairs—where he’d ironically ended up working at—hosted a Halloween bash with exclusive promotions. And every year, it was followed by a more exclusive all-out rager at his apartment, which he shared with a bunch of his friends above the cafe. It was something nearly everyone on the block looked forward to each year, and this time, Chan was in charge of the activities. The activities coordinator, Seungcheol had proclaimed.

That’s why Chan has been asking for all kinds of opinions lately, even yours. Being the natural people-pleaser he is, he felt as if he’d been running around everywhere to get everyone’s stamp of approval. He would go up and down, left and right, and even hold surveys at the cash register for strangers' opinions. He had a habit of making things perfect, and he wasn’t going to let your cynicism ruin it for him.

“Come on, help me figure out what to wear, bro. My night depends on it.”

Soonyoung had been helpful—thank goodness for that—and now that was one less problem to worry about, Chan felt a bit of relief. If he could just get through his shift at the cafe without losing his mind and manage to sneak in some few minutes of party planning, he would have a good day.

“You figure out what costume makes you look less of a loser, yet? Trick question, it really doesn’t matter what you pick. You’ll still look like a loser.”

Chan tilted his head, unfazed by your rude comments as he poured his tenth cup of ramen for the night—three of them for the same customer. “Why do you care? Don’t you have some puppies to kick?”

Your smile remained unfaltering, conniving as ever. “I cleared my schedule to help Seokmin and Soonyoung rank up. Wonwoo is playing with them this round. Just here to grab some Kickstart.”

“Ah, so another puppy is safe for a day from the wicked Witch of the West. Congratulations on your fleeting moment of decency.” He turned, striding over to the customers waiting for their ramen, while you annoyingly trailed closely behind. You grabbed your favorite blackberry Kickstart from the fridge, the bright can a stark contrast to the dim lighting of the café, and tossed a couple of crumpled bills in the direction of the cash register as if you’d done it before.

“You’re helping plan the Halloween party, right? Seungcheol mentioned it when I asked what I should bring,” you said, your tone almost too casual, as if you were friends.

Chan scoffed, carefully setting the steaming bowls of ramen down in front of the waiting customers before heading back to his station. “You, being courteous? That’s new. What do you want?”

With a sly smile, you leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I just wanted to let you know that if you really want to make the party fun, you can ask me. My ideas will probably be better than whatever you come up with.” The confidence in your voice made it clear you expected him to take you seriously, but how could he when every little word you managed to muster was belittling?

Chan grit his teeth, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He unscrewed the cap of a water bottle from the fridge and downed it in one swift gulp, the cool liquid barely offering any relief from his irritation. As he crushed the empty bottle in his hands, he aimed for the trash can but missed, the bottle clattering to the floor with a dull thud. Sounding exasperated, he bent down to pick it up, tossing it into the can with a bit more force than necessary.

Straightening up, he shot you a sharp glare. “I can handle it myself, thanks,” he muttered, his voice tight with annoyance.

“Really? Because I’m offering my help here,” you replied, your tone dripping with an offensive amount of condescending sincerity. “I’m being generous with my time and giving you the chance to create something…well, palatable from this party.” You exaggeratedly pretended to choose your words carefully, a teasing smile playing on your lips, poking at his alleged incompetence.

“You want to help?” Chan challenged, his tone cutting. “How about just enjoying the party instead of making it all about yourself? Some of us actually have work to do.”

He fixed you with a glare that held the slightest hint of malice before finally turning away and returning to his tasks.

“Defensive much?” you shot back, a glimpse of interest on your face as you raised an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied, his voice firm. “Just self-respecting.”

“Fine,” you said, turning back to your friends as you walked away. “Just don’t come begging for my help when your party goes to shit.”

Chan found himself screaming into his pillows that night, the fabric muffling his frustrated cries as he banged his head against them in sheer exasperation.

“What the heck is her deal?” he murmured to himself, his voice muffled and thick with irritation. He buried his face deeper into the pillows, desperate to escape the relentless thoughts fogging in his mind. The familiar scent of cotton and fabric softener offered very little comfort as he replayed the interaction over and over, making him as puzzled as ever.

He hadn’t experienced bullying like this since high school, a time when everyone was preoccupied with either being popular or getting into the best colleges. He was neither; instead, he was a secret third option: just trying to survive.

“Always making fun of me. Always belittling me. Always making me feel like crap.” He pulled the covers over his eyes, seeking refuge from his loud thoughts. “Why can’t she just tell me what I did to make her hate me? I’m not a mind reader.”

Unable to sleep, Chan gazed up at the night sky through his bedroom window, seeing it enveloped in the vast pitch-blackness pressing down like a weight. He took a steadying breath, hoping to clear his mind. Not a single star graced him with its presence—only the lone moon, barely there but still noticeable—how relatable—hanging in the sky like a quiet witness to his restless thoughts.

“I’m going insane here, so if there’s a god out there, could he—or she—make my life easier for the next few days? Just a little?” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for superpowers like telepathy or anything. Just…let me pull off a party that everyone actually enjoys. Even her. Maybe then she won’t be so…her all the time.”

It was wishful thinking, but worth a shot, and if Chan was known for anything, it was taking chances—no matter how slim the odds.

Chan was somehow able to sleep that night finally, hair straying all over his face, until he sat up at the realization of a lack of a blaring alarm, “Oh, shit.”

His phone battery had died, and his charger defective and rendered useless. He scrambled to Seungcheol’s room next door, avoiding the obstacles of his shirts strewn across the floor, and plugged the bead phone to his housemate’s charger, impatiently tapping until the phone lit up to greet him.

9:48. Just about 18 minutes before his morning shift starts and almost no time to get ready. “Shit, shit.”

‘What’s that noise?’

Chan glanced over at Seungcheol, who was sprawled out across his bed, a half-conscious casualty of the previous night’s escapades. It seemed he’d had company, judging by the tangled mess of clothes scattered on the floor, and apparently, they'd had more than just a “decent” time.

“Sorry, Cheol. Gotta borrow your charger. I’ll bring it back later.”

Seungcheol’s response was a muffled groan, his arm barely twitching in acknowledgment. Within the incoherent noise, Chan could just make out the unspoken message: ‘Just go away.’

“Got it, see you at work, buddy,” Chan muttered, plugging in his phone with a quick tap to check the time before heading for the door.

Another groan drifted from the bed, thick with irritation. ‘So loud.’

Chan got himself ready in a hurry, forgoing a shower and compensating with an extra-long brush of his teeth and a thick layer of deodorant. Fresh breath and a quick spritz of cologne would have to do for today. The cafe would be filled with people who wouldn’t care anyway.

He rushed downstairs to clock in, throwing on an apron over his lackluster clothes and prepping the makeshift kitchen in the back.

‘Ugh, my back is killing me.’

Chan turned at the faint sound of a familiar voice, spotting Minghao slouched in one of the worn chairs in the employees-only room, head leaned back, eyes half-closed in what looked like exhaustion.

“Hey, Hao. You okay?”

Minghao glanced up, his face breaking into a grin that seemed a bit forced, but reassuring nonetheless. “Morning, Chan. Yeah, I’m good. What’s up?”

“Just checking in—I thought I heard you say something about your back?”

Minghao’s grin faded into a puzzled expression, brow furrowing as if he were rewinding through his own memory. “Hmm? I didn’t say anything. But… Now that you mention it, my back has been sore lately. All the competitions piling up, you know? Guess martial arts are starting to weigh down on this old, elderly body of mine.” He chuckled at his own self-deprecating joke.

Chan gave a sympathetic nod. “Well, if you need a break, just take one, alright? I’m sure Seungcheol or Jeonghan wouldn’t mind.”

Minghao’s smile softened. “Thanks, little buddy. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Chan smiled back. “Anytime.”

As Chan turned to leave, he heard a voice, faint but unmistakable, despite the owner of the voice being in the same room: ‘Chan’s a good kid.’

He paused mid-step, his eyes widening as he processed the thought, lingering in the air like a distant echo. He looked back at Minghao, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Did…did you just say something?”

Minghao chuckled, giving him a casual wave as if everything were normal. “No? I’ll be out in a sec. How about you go warm up the coffee pot for me, hmm?”

“Got it…” Chan said, hesitating as he walked out, still glancing over his shoulder, his mind racing with questions. Had he really heard that voice? Or was exhaustion playing tricks on him?

He flipped the cash register on, the familiar hum filling the quiet of the early morning. Chan meticulously counted the bills, making sure he had the right amount of change and neatly stacked cash, each dollar lined up perfectly. Once satisfied, he moved to the glass door, flicking the open sign to life with a soft click. The neon light flickered, casting a bright and loud, welcoming invitation to anyone passing by. Chan took a deep breath, feeling the calm before the inevitable rush.

‘I hope they have the good ramen and not that crappy store brand shit. You can totally tell the difference.’

The voice drifted into Chan’s mind, oddly clear and distinct as if someone were speaking right beside him—except no one was there. The words had a casual, almost lazy tone, echoing in his head like the distant buzz of a radio left on in another room. His gaze darted around the empty shop, his pulse quickening as he scanned the quiet space, lit only by the harsh glow of the neon open sign.

He shook his head, trying to dismiss it, but the words still lingered, as if they were waiting for him to acknowledge them. This voice, like Minghao’s earlier, felt close yet completely detached, belonging to someone…elsewhere.

The chimes on the door jingled, pulling Chan from his thoughts as he glanced up to see a familiar figure. Finally, he could match the voice he’d been hearing to a face.

“Hey, Chan. The usual, please,” Beomgyu greeted, his tone dry, with the same dark circles under his eyes from late-night gaming marathons.

‘Is it me, or does he look shittier than usual?’ The words echoed in Chan’s mind, clear as if spoken aloud, though Beomgyu’s lips never moved. Chan froze, the unexpected comment hitting him square in the chest—both offending and unnerving him.

“Excuse me?” Chan retorted, defensively narrowing his eyes.

Beomgyu blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Uh… the usual? Kimchi ramen with cheese and a Cherry slush?”

‘Man, hasn’t he worked here for, like, a year? Doesn’t he have this down by now?’

“What? Of course, I do!” Chan shot back, his voice sharp with irritation.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, now clearly baffled. “Dude, what are you talking about? Just give me my stuff.”

Chan swallowed, feeling a strange tension creeping over him. He forced himself to look down, suddenly unsure whether he was hearing Beomgyu–or actually going insane.

“Right. Sorry. It'll be out in a second,” Chan mumbled, suddenly sheepish as he accepted the cash, his usual confidence thrown off-kilter.

Beomgyu gave him a lingering, puzzled look before shrugging it off and drifting over to his usual seat in the corner. As he walked away, Chan felt an odd prickling sensation in the back of his mind—the familiar voice filtering through, more unsettling this time.

‘Has he gone psycho or something?’

Chan’s heart skipped, his eyes widening slightly as he processed the words that had somehow entered his mind, clear as day, despite Beomgyu’s silent, closed lips. His fingers clenched the counter as he steadied himself, wondering if he was finally cracking under the stress or if something far stranger was at play.

‘Another day, another W!’

Another voice then grew louder, closer, and was growing more anxious, sweat beading down his forehead out of bewilderment. What in the fuck was happening?

Seokmin emerged from the doors, seeing Chan with a bright smile as he leaned up against the counter. “Hi Chan, a couple of sprites and two orders of rose spicy rice cakes please.”

‘I’ma burn through iron into silver today. I just know it!’

Chan’s hands hovered over the register, a sense of déjà vu creeping over him as he felt the words echo in his mind. His fingers shook slightly as he pressed the buttons. “Y-you trying to rank up in Overwatch again today?” he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

Seokmin laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah! Wonwoo and Jeonghan are coming by to play on their day off.”

‘Ooh, I should check if they have that series in stock again. I missed it last time.’

“What series were you looking for again?” Chan asked, trying to keep his tone casual as he glanced up from the register.

Seokmin blinked, a little startled, clearly wondering how Chan had guessed. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about it. What was it called again?” ‘Kindergarden wars–’

“Kindergarten Wars, right? The Kindergarten Cop of Manga? That one?” Chan asked, his voice coming out a bit too smooth for his own comfort.

Seokmin’s eyes widened in surprise, a laugh escaping him. “Whoa, I just barely remembered the title! You’re on a roll, buddy. But yeah, that’s the one! Do you have it in stock?”

“Yeah, we should have a few copies in. I’ll grab one for you when your order’s ready,” Chan replied, managing a grin, though stark comparison to the panic festering in his body.

"Aw, you’re the best, Chan. Thanks!” Seokmin flashed a wide grin as he swiped his card, practically bouncing toward his usual corner. He arranged a couple of chairs, setting up a cozy little space for his friends, buzzing around like a busy bee as he prepped the area, clearly itching to dive into his day.

Meanwhile, Chan’s nerves were going through it. He kept glancing at the entrance, anxiety creeping up his spine as he wondered if the next person through the door would, once again, broadcast their every thought straight into his head. Just thinking about it made him want to puke, the effects of the bizarre events not dissipating in the slightest.

The rest of Chan’s day became a relentless cascade of intrusive thoughts, each one amplifying the disquiet simmering inside him. Every new customer brought a fresh wave of private musings, some harmless, others startlingly personal, or worse yet, straight creepy. The sheer volume of it all began to blur together into an overwhelming hum.

‘Fuck not again.’

‘Hell yeah, a new skin!’

‘He’s so annoying I wish he would just die already.’

‘I swear, they said ‘one more game’ like an hour ago.’

‘They’re all trash. Worthless. I’m surrounded by idiots who can’t play for shit.’

‘They won’t last. She’ll cheat on him, or he’ll leave her. It’s inevitable.’

The familiar buzz of the cafe felt unusually oppressive, almost suffocating, as Chan struggled to tune out the voices around him. He found himself straining to differentiate between what was actually spoken and what slipped uninvited into his mind, the line between reality and thought as thin as it was maddening.

"Hey, Hao, I’m gonna take five."

Chan didn’t wait for a reply. He bolted out of the business and up the narrow staircase to his residence, his pulse hammering in his ears. The familiar murmur of echoing voices trailed him, each step feeling heavier than the last, the whispers chasing him even as he tried to leave them behind. It wasn't until he closed the door with a soft but resolute click that they faded, now hushed but still there. Haunting him.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the echo of voices still faintly buzzing in his mind. His hands tightened in his hair, fingers digging in as if grounding himself might silence the flood.

He shut his eyes, breathing in uneven breaths as he clamped his hands over his ears and somehow soothing the thoughts determined to run rampant. But every time he let his guard down, snippets of thought would slip through—fragmented phrases, stray judgments, random anxieties—taking up headspace like ghosts he couldn’t shake.

‘Why does he get everything? It should be me.’

‘The world would be better off without most of them, if not all.’

‘Where the hell is my ramen?’

‘I hope I didn’t get stood up. I sent her Uber money.’

Nothing about this made sense. It was impossible—just yesterday, his life had been normal, and now he was hearing voices that sounded exactly like his friends’ private thoughts, whether he wanted to or not. This wasn’t some supernatural CW drama, no Halloween special with a secret message all along for the protagonist. This was real life, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he was somehow…reading minds.

The thought sparked a fresh jolt of panic, twisting his insides into knots. It was a fear he hadn’t known lurked within him, clawing its way to the surface and leaving his stomach churning. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force it away, to dismiss it as some ridiculous, passing delusion. But the voices only grew louder, like an insistent, rising tide that wouldn’t let him brush this off as a mere joke or a temporary glitch in the simulation. No, they clung to him, refusing to fade—unyielding, pressing against his mind as if daring him to question his own sanity.

Then there was a knock. Soft at first, followed by the hesitant creak of the door easing open. Chan barely registered it, too consumed by the relentless flood of thoughts racing through his head, repeating to himself, “You’re not real, you’re not real…”

“Chan?”

His eyes flew open, finally taking in the figure silhouetted in the doorway—you. Your expression was a blend of concern and hesitation as you stepped cautiously into his room. A pang of surprise coursed through him, igniting a spark of defensiveness that flared to life within him, seeing you making the weight on his head worse. He forced himself to hold your gaze, feeling exposed under the weight of your possible scrutiny. “W-what do you want?” he stammered, the words escaping him in apprehension.

You raised an eyebrow, though your usual edge seemed softened. “Minghao asked me to come get you. He’s worried. Looks like he was right—finally lost your mind, or something?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he hissed, barely keeping his voice steady.

You raised an eyebrow. “Chan—”

“Save it.” He cut you off, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing as he took a half-step back, almost as if he expected you to throw something back his way. Just as you always have. “I’m not gonna take whatever crap you’re planning, so if that’s your game, just forget it.”

You blinked, caught off guard, a flash of irritation tightening your expression. “Wow,” you muttered, crossing your arms with a look that was half offense, half amusement. “Who the hell pissed in your cereal?”

“I’m not feeling well, alright? And you don’t make it any easier. If you think I’m going to keep letting you walk all over me, forget it. Go pick on someone else.”

“Wow, look at you finally picking up your backbone from the floor,” you taunted, slowly closing the distance between you. Your voice dripped with mockery as you studied him, taking in the tense lines of his posture and the way his jaw clenched in irritation. “If this is about the party, the offer still stands. I know what I said, but—”

“But nothing. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now. Just piss off.” His voice cut through the air, sharp and defensive, as if he was trying to shield himself from your probing.

“Ooh, look at you using big words,” you snickered tilting your head as you leaned in slightly, your eyes narrowing in challenge. “Is all the stress of pleasing everyone finally catching up to you? Or are you just realizing you’re not capable of doing something that requires responsibility?”

Chan stepped closer, piercing through you with a sharp glare as your smile broadened, infused with a stubborn determination that only irritated him further. No matter what he said, you remained resolute, and he could sense his resolve beginning to crack under the weight of your taunts, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Or,” he began, feeling the voice in his head finally recede as a surge of courage washed over him. “I have so much of my own shit going on. Ever thought about that? Now, why don't you turn around and mind your goddamn business before I should teach you how to shut up while I’m at it.” The dominance in his tone surprised even him, and for the first time, he felt like he was finally in control of himself and his newfound ability.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes, the way it deepened the timbre of his voice, radiating uncontainable energy you’d never seen from Chan before. The confidence that once danced in your gaze faltered, giving way to a glint of surprise as you struggled to hold onto your composure. Your lips parted slightly, words caught in your throat as you processed his unexpected boldness—and the effect it was having on you.

‘Holy shit.’

Your voice echoed in his mind, sending a thrill through him as his lips stretched from ear to ear menacingly. Finally—finally—he was the one with the upper hand.

“What? Nothing to say now?” he challenged, relishing the moment.

‘Holy shit, he’s so hot when he’s mad.’

Confusion softened his features for a brief moment, and he couldn’t help but let out a, “What?”

“I…I didn’t say anything.”

‘Oh god, am I sweating? Can he smell me? Holy shit, he’s so close to me right now.’

Chan wasn’t sure what he was hearing right now. Especially whatever this was. His mind was already spinning from the obnoxiously loud and relentless voices echoing in his head from earlier—this was something else. The anxiety of your voice in his head, laced with something vulnerable he’s never seen in you before, threw him off-kilter. He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he processed the stray thoughts that weren’t his own, thoughts that broke through the background noise with an unexpected force.

He drew in a breath, barely steady, as he took in every flicker of your expression—the way your lips quivered as if on the edge of saying something, then closed again, and how your gaze dropped just briefly, as if to gather strength, before lifting to meet his, defiant but with a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. That simmering frustration from earlier dissolved, replaced by a charged curiosity that spread through him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, letting his words roll out slowly, teasingly, testing the waters of this sudden change in power.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly as if caught off guard, your shoulders tensing as though bracing against an invisible force. He could practically feel the hurried, jumbled thoughts in your head racing, flickering across your face—hesitation, curiosity, that rare glint of resolve that never seemed to completely fade. It was almost…endearing.

The moment felt charged, like standing on the brink of something electrifying and forbidden. Chan found himself leaning into it, savoring the way his voice dropped, roughened, responding instinctively to this unguarded version of you.

“What?” he murmured, his smile laced with challenge. “Cat got your tongue?”

You drew in a slow breath, fingers clutching the doorframe behind you as if anchoring yourself, your gaze flickering from his face to his hands and then back again, as though the very air around you had thinned.

"Just…” Your voice faltered, lingering in the air, yet you held his gaze, a reluctant tension in your eyes, as if resisting an urge falling deep down a pit you’ve already managed to avoid for so long.

“Just what?” he pressed, amusement saturating his tone, relishing in your timid silence.

You hesitated, pressing your lips together before looking away. “Just… get back to work,” you muttered, fingers clenching the door frame for a moment before finally releasing it as you turned to go.

‘That…was crazy.’

Chan watched you leave, barely holding back a grin as a strange, exhilarating sense of control lingered. For the first time, he felt like he had turned the tables. This bizarre predicament suddenly had its perks.

As the thought settled, another realization dawned: maybe these powers—or whatever they were—could be harnessed. And you, of all people, might just be the key. Finally, it seemed you had some use after all.

The rest of the day passed with surprising ease, a sense of control settling over Chan as he slowly came to terms with this new ability. Whatever this was, if it meant you kept your distance and stayed in check, now it was about time you tasted a bit of your own medicine.

Meanwhile, you kept to the far side of the room, throwing him occasional glances that were equal parts wary and curious, as if still processing the shift that had unfolded between you. The quiet in your demeanor was foreign—almost like a subtle retreat—but Chan could still hear every single thought racing through your mind, echoing around him, feeding his ego.

‘Fuck, why is he looking at me like that?’

The echo of your uncertainties only made Chan’s grin widen. Each new thought layered itself over the rest, but somehow, yours always came through with striking clarity, as if your mind was the loudest voice in the room. He wasn’t sure if he was honing in on it by instinct or if his newfound ability had a mind of its own, drawn to you by sheer force of will—or intrigue.

‘It’s like he’s seeing right through me…oh my god, can you see my underwear or something? I’m gonna kill myself.’

You visibly clenched your thighs, turning away from Chan to avoid his gaze but he was the only thing on his mind. You couldn’t even enjoy the game you were playing anymore.

‘God, he looks really good…makes me wanna take him in the back and tie my hair up–shit, how long is gonna stare at me?’

As each thought drifted by, Chan skillfully sifted through the chaos, honing in on the captivating essence of your unguarded musings. A swell of pride blossomed within him as he recognized that this ability to read minds might not be a curse after all; it was a remarkable gift, one potent enough to give him control over someone as difficult as you

"Leaving so soon, dearest customer?” Chan drawled, leaning against the wall by the exit, his eyes tracking every movement as you gathered your things, your grip tightening around the strap of your backpack.

‘Was he…waiting for me?’

He scoffed, removing his name tag as he did at the end of every shift, a knowing glint in his eyes as he held your gaze, refusing to look away. “You just seem…distant. Thought I’d check in.”

‘He was thinking about me?’ The thought sparked something in you, and you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Maybe you should focus on yourself for once, and I don’t mean…” Your gaze flickered downward before snapping back up, warmth spreading up your neck.

‘Not that I’d be entirely against it,’ you thought with a quiet chuckle.

With a step forward, his confidence seemed to fill the space between you, his eyes sweeping over you with a boldness that made you catch your breath. He regarded you with a half-lidded gaze, as though he could see through you, a look that sent a prickle of goosebumps over your skin. “Only you would make my concern for you about my genitals,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “Think about them often, do you?”

You nearly stumbled, his words unraveling your composure as he turned your teasing back on you with a mastery that left you momentarily speechless. “You…”

“Was I on the money? It’s showing on your face.”

You shook your head lightly, brushing past him without a word, pretending the encounter hadn’t rattled you. But as you moved, he followed, a faint smirk lingering as he kept pace just behind you, relishing in the control he held. Chan tuned into the steady stream of thoughts he could almost feel buzzing around your mind—every second of fluster, every trace of hesitation.

With each step, he could sense your resolve slipping, see the barely concealed tension in your hurried stride as you exited the café, almost like you were running but with no clear destination in mind. And he kept watching, unhurried, savoring every moment as he let his presence linger just enough to keep himself quietly literally in the back of your mind, conflicted with the current predicament.

“Where are you going? You never did answer my question,” he called after you, his tone deceptively casual.

You scoffed, refusing to let your stride falter. “You’re being weird today.”

‘Need to stop myself from jumping him with the way he’s looking at me,’ your thoughts betrayed you, louder than you’d like.

He raised an eyebrow, matching your pace with ease. “Speak for yourself. It’s like you can’t help but avoid me. Almost like you’re hiding something.”

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, though the effort was as shaky as it was bold. “Wow, nosy much? If I didn’t know better, Chan, I’d think you’re obsessed with me or something.” ‘If that’s the case, God smite me right now.’

“Sounds like you’re projecting.” Chan closed the gap between you, stepping so close only a half-arm’s length separated you. His eyes swept over you, catching the subtle quiver you tried to hide. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your obsession is the reason you can barely look me in the eyes right now. Or maybe you’re undressing me with them. Is that it?”

‘Please, for Christ’s sake, I am two seconds away from tearing the clothes off your back and making you shut up with my mouth,’ the thought flashed hot and unfiltered, betraying you in every glance.

Chan’s grin widened, reveling in the crackling tension radiating from you. "Careful with where your eyes are going," he murmured, voice low and teasing. “You don’t know what I might have to do about it if you don’t.”

With that, he turned on his heel and strode off, leaving you rooted in place, your final unguarded thoughts echoing in his head as he went back home.

‘Maybe that's all I want to do now.’

In the days leading up to Halloween, you’d been keeping your distance, and Chan’s telepathic abilities showed no signs of fading. Every day, you kept to the same routine—avoiding his gaze, interacting with your shared friends, and hiding those unspeakably dirty thoughts behind a prissy, composed facade. At first, Chan found it amusing, this secret insight into your mind, but as the days wore on, he became more curious, more intrigued. How much of what you showed the world actually aligned with those hidden, guilty desires?

His gaze drifted to the costume hanging in his closet like an eyesore—a dinosaur suit that, though comical, would probably have him sweating profusely all night. Then there was Soonyoung’s “thirst trap” suggestion, an outfit that showed way more skin, something Chan had immediately rejected and returned but still left in the back of his mind. However, an idea began to take shape, a clever compromise that might just keep your attention exactly where he wanted it. For experimental reasons, of course.

You didn’t come into work that day, likely dodging him on purpose, which only left Chan to navigate the usual mundane thoughts of the café’s patrons—mostly comments about costumes or Halloween plans. Without your thoughts slipping into his mind, the day seemed flat, dull even.

“Hey, Chan.” ‘Hello body-ody-ody.’

Chan caught Jeonghan’s stare as he stood there in a rabbit costume, the moment stretching out just a beat too long. Chan’s confidence wavered just a bit, a warm flush creeping up his neck as he glanced down, lightly fiddling with the arms of his dinosaur onesie, which were tied loosely around his waist. He was half-bare beneath the café lights, with only a simple chain dangling around his neck, and suddenly the whole look felt a little bolder than he’d intended.

He let out a nervous chuckle, his voice softening as he managed, “Uh…am I doing too much?” He could feel his cheeks warm as he looked up again, almost as if he expected Jeonghan to burst out laughing any second. But instead, Jeonghan’s expression softened, a crooked smile forming, clearly more amused than anything.

“...Huh? Oh, sorry, I was looking at your body.”

Chan’s cheeks flushed as he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. “Bro,” he muttered, clearly flustered.

“Chan, you’re fine. It’s Halloween, dressing like a slut is normal in this time of year.” Jeonghan clapped him on the shoulder.

“Jeonghan…”Chan murmured, half-scolding but feeling even more self-conscious under Jeonghan’s praise.

“In fact, I’m happy you’re finally putting yourself out here. I would think the eye candy I hired would sell himself off a little more,” Jeonghan chuckled to himself, thinking, ‘And man, did I nail that hire.’

Chan blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”

‘I’m not,’ Jeonghan thought proudly, then said aloud, “I’m not.” Jeonghan’s devilish smile widened as he subtly nodded toward the crowd filling the café. Among the usual patrons were a few fresh faces, particularly a growing group of college-aged girls who seemed unable to keep their eyes off Chan.

Chan’s thoughts drifted back to that morning. He’d been in the stockroom, reorganizing supplies while Minghao ran the front, completely unaware of the number of glances that had slipped through the cracked door, trailing over him as he worked. Now, seeing the lingering stares, he realized his costume had sparked more than just Halloween spirit—it had created quite a stir, evening out it’s usually male dominated atmosphere.

Now he was starting to wonder if he’d been filtering out the roaming thoughts a little too well, considering what he’d missed:

‘What is that costume even…? Actually, I don’t even care. He’s so yummy…’

‘I’m literally drooling. Oh my god, he just looked at me—I’m shaking.’

‘Did guys this hot always work here? Guess I’ll have to come by more often now.’

‘I kind of want to get his number…maybe then he’d let me ride his—’

Chan's eyes widened as the wave of unabashed admiration washed over him. He hadn’t expected this much attention, and a shy grin crept onto his face. “I-I get it now. Um… wow.”

He threw a timid glance toward their corner, and the response was immediate: the girls erupted in muffled squeals, giggling and whispering as if sharing secrets too wild to be spoken aloud. Their eyes gleamed with a mix of awe and infatuation, lingering on him even as they leaned into each other, cheeks flushed, exchanging looks that made Chan feel both flattered and exposed.

“See? You’re a staple here, and you’re doing great,” Jeonghan said with a grin. “Rack up those tips, and when you clock out, fill me in on any last-minute details about the party tonight. Just in case I missed anything.”

“Sure, Jeonghan.”

Now that Chan had come to terms with the fact that his costume was effective for a similar demographic, a swell of confidence bubbled within him that you would react the same. All he needed now was a chance to show it off to the right person. But as he glanced around the café, scanning for you amidst the crowd, a tinge of disappointment set in. Despite the lively atmosphere filled with laughter and chatter of the spooky festivities, you were nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that maybe he was the reason.

As the hour drew nearer, Chan felt a growing sense of frustration. Maybe he had been misreading your thoughts all along, or perhaps his powers were glitching today. The very idea of having such abilities was absurd, yet here he was, confused as to why he couldn’t detect your voice. He needed to make sense of it all. How could you swing from hating him one moment to lusting after him the next, only to ghost him entirely? Each possibility twisted in his mind, leaving him feeling more lost than ever. The anticipation that had once excited him now felt heavy with uncertainty, gnawing at his confidence just as he was getting used to it.

Seungcheol’s voice rang out with a mix of authority and enthusiasm, echoing through the bustling café. His energy was infectious, as he gestured animatedly, urging everyone to transition from the work grind to the festive spirit. With his usual flair, he rallied the team, his eyes sparkling with excitement for whatever chaos awaited them upstairs. The air buzzed with anticipation as he clapped his hands together, urging the staff to shake off the day’s fatigue and dive into the night’s festivities.

Meanwhile, Chan busied himself with the final preparations for the party, glancing at the door every few moments, hoping to see you walk through it finally. He didn’t have much of a plan but he had the spirit of one, bouncing off in the corners of his mind like the vibrant colors of the haunted jungle punch sloshing around in his red Solo cup. The punch was fruity and something strong, but it did little to calm his growing anticipation.

Despite the cheerful atmosphere around him, he fought to maintain a carefree demeanor, all while tuning out the cacophony of voices in his head. Racy thoughts and flirtations from other partygoers echoed through his mind, but none of it held the same thrill as the prospect of hearing your voice. Each thought was a distraction, a reminder of the palpable heat that he felt on his skin when he heard your thoughts for the first time and how it made his heart clench for a reason other than annoyance.

He could almost visualize the energy you brought with you, the way your laughter lit up the room, and how your teasing remarks made his pulse pick up pace. Chan found himself nursing the drink, hoping the sugar and alcohol would somehow bridge the gap between him and you not being here like he hoped you’d be. The raucous fun around him only intensified his longing, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wouldn’t be complete without you by his side.

‘Oh, fuck.’

It hit him like the chime of a clock striking the hour, electrifying and undeniable. Your voice echoed in his mind, pulling his attention as if drawn by an invisible force. He turned to see you entering through the doors, your presence instantly commanding the room.

Your gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. You were enveloped in a dress of the deepest black, hugging your form from chest to waist before flaring out dramatically and hitting just above your knees. Sheer green tights adorned your legs, glimmering under the soft lights, and a pointed hat crowned your head. You were a vision of the Wicked Witch of the West and Chan could see that never had he thought that vision could be so alluring.

In that moment, everything around him dissolved—the laughter, the music, the chatter of partygoers—as his entire focus narrowed in on you. You were breathtaking, igniting something primal within him that he thought he could shut off. But—

‘I could eat you up, Lee Chan.’

A smile tugged at his lips as he followed after you, sharing the same sentiment as your unspoken hunger. “Took you long enough.”

‘Mmh, so he was waiting for me. Again.’

“Didn’t realize you were waiting for me.” Your chuckle was laced with arrogance. ‘Where the hell is his shirt? And why couldn’t he have given me the pleasure of taking it off?’

“You’ve been avoiding me, which is unusual for you,” Chan remarked sarcastically, watching intently as you poured yourself a drink, bending his arm in a way that not-so-effortlessly flexed his upper arms. “And you didn’t come by the café at all today.” He leaned in slightly, narrowing his gaze. “I thought it might have something to do with me.”

“You?” Your incredulity echoed in your mind. ‘Lee Chan? You were worried about me?’

You stepped closer, invading his space with a confidence that sent a thrill through him. Your gaze traced a deliberate path from his eyes, down the strong line of his jaw, pausing to appreciate the way the light danced across his bare skin. It dipped lower, gliding over the defined contours of his chest, each muscle accentuated by the flickering glow of the party lights. You lingered at his waistband, taking in the way the fabric clung to him seductively.

As your eyes returned to his, there was a spark of mischief in them that didn’t need mind reading to understand, leaving the recipient breathless. The air between you seemed to thrum with unspoken words but clear dialogue, thick with a tension that wrapped around you both. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, drawing him closer to you. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in this charged moment, as if the very atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

“Yeah. Me.” Chan confirmed, his grin widening.

“Well, look who took the time to finally make it.” You both felt a weight on your shoulders as someone drove in between you both, becoming the deli meat in this strange sandwich.

Soonyoung hugged his cheeks between your faces and grinned, oblivious as always to his surroundings. “Hey, guys.”

‘Good, I stopped the fight before they decked it out in front of everyone.’

“Hey, Soonyoung,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist and forcing a smile. “I see you’re recycling your costume from last year.”

“Uh, it’s not a reuse! This is clearly a brand-new bodysuit, complete with paws!” He lifted his tiger mitts dramatically, waving them in front of your face as if trying to convince you of their novelty. “Very new and totally fierce!”

“Oh, of course, you look good.” You chuckled, genuinely appreciating his energy.

Soonyoung then turned his attention to Chan, eyes wide with excitement. “Whoa, Chan! Look at you, buddy! I told you showing off a little skin would do you good, and wow, look at all this!”

He let out an exaggerated whistle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our sexy little dinosaur! You’re making all the other costumes look bad!”

“Okay, okay, thanks, Soon.” Chan let out a hearty laugh, a flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks as he playfully patted his friend’s shoulder. He quickly shrugged him off, attempting to create a buffer to ward off Soonyoung’s inevitable groping.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re supposed to be,” You teased, “Couldn’t tell from the lack of clothes.”

Chan snorted, his amusement bubbling to the surface. “I’m clearly showcasing my costume from the waist down—tail included,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “But just remember, even if my costume is down there…” He raised his fingers and motioned to his eyes, an impish glint in his gaze “…my eyes are definitely up here.”

‘What if I want to look at what’s underneath the costume?’

‘What’s going on here...?”

Chan can’t help but grin at the challenge in your eyes while blatantly ignoring the confusion in Soonyoung’s.

“Showing off the merchandise but not letting people browse? You’re not exactly running a lucrative business here, Lee Chan.”

“Who says I’m running a business?” Chan shot back with a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I’m simply looking for..exclusive clientele.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, an invitation wrapped in flirtation.

‘I might have to sample a bit of that to see if it’s to my taste, which I’m sure it will be,’ you thought, wishing you could say it out loud. Instead, a soft giggle escaped your lips, though Chan caught the thought loud and clear. A playful grin spread across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he leaned in just a little closer, seeing the playfulness dance in your eyes.

“You guys are speaking weird,” Soonyoung chimed in, his words slightly slurred as the effects of the alcohol began to show. He swayed a little, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

Chan patted his striped friend on the back with a friendly nudge. “Why don’t you check if Jihoon needs help with the music, buddy? You’d be a real asset.”

“Oh, I would be so good at that!” Soonyoung declared, practically bouncing on his heels before darting off with uncontainable enthusiasm.

Chan turned back to you, arching an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye, eager to stretch out the moment. “So, did you bring anything special to offer?”

“Just some wine that Minghao practically wrestled away from me when I walked through the front door,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a feigned exasperation. “Have you sorted out those party games you were so excited about?”

“Should be starting in a couple of minutes,” he assured, his gaze flicking around the party setup, but the warmth of his attention remained fixed on you. “In the meantime, feel free to indulge in the snacks or candy. They’re just as sweet as you.”

‘Oh?’

“How thoughtful of you,” you compliment, pleasantly surprised.

“Forgot to mention the warheads, but still considerably sweet.”

The night unfolded like a game of push and pull, with Chan pulling you in more than he ever had before. The playful tension crackled between you, and he could tell that the idea of playing hard to get was on your mind tonight. Even with all the distractions around you, your thoughts were surprisingly coherent—you wanted Chan, and he knew it. Yet you refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. That was when he realized that the party games he had planned would serve as the perfect tool to tilt the odds in his favor.

“Alright, everyone, gather around! On behalf of our activities coordinator, Chan, I’ll be hosting the game he selected for us tonight. Why don’t you tell us what it is, Chan?” Seungcheol announced, his tone playful as he gestured for Chan to take the spotlight.

Chan stepped forward, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Tonight, we’ll be playing manhunt—a twist on hide and seek with major stakes. The last person standing will win a grand prize, and the seeker who finds the most players will earn a reward just as significant. There will be three seekers.” He paused for effect, relishing the eager anticipation in the room. “The rules are simple: (1) no running, (2) you must reveal yourself once your name is called, and (3) most importantly, have fun. The prizes will be unveiled after the game ends.”

Vernon raised his hand eagerly. “Is the prize money?”

“Vernon, what did I just say?” Chan replied, suppressing a grin as he earned a solemn nod in response.

“Is there a time limit?” Mingyu chimed in, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

“Forty minutes.”

Wonwoo started to raise his hand. “What about—”

“Enough questions!” Seungcheol interrupted, chuckling as he saw the anticipation on everyone’s faces. “Chan, pick your seekers.”

Chan rubbed his hands together, a cocky smile spreading across his face as he surveyed the crowd, already knowing who he wanted. “I choose Joshua, Seokmin, and myself. While Seungcheol counts to twenty, the rest of you will scatter and hide.” His grin widened, mischief dancing in his eyes. “And remember, don’t get caught. Losers will face punishment, too,” he added, eliciting a collective groan from the group.

Seungcheol stood in the middle of the room, gesturing for the helpers to shut off all the lights, leaving the entire floor of the building pitch black and ready for the taking. “Starting now. Twenty… nineteen… eighteen…”

The harmonious sound of footsteps retreated from the room, the darkness perfectly concealing any shadows that might betray anyone’s position. Chan needed no light to do what he had to do but turned on his phone camera the moment the counting ended. He met the eyes of his fellow seekers, barely visible in the glow of their phone lights, anticipation clear on their faces. “We’ll cover our own ground until we run out of places to search, then it’s a free-for-all,” Joshua suggested.

“Got it. I’ll head out first,” Chan insisted, earning a collective nod and finding his own path.

He navigated through the stream of thoughts, weaving between them like a radio dial tuning into a specific frequency, determined to hone a singular voice.

‘Ugh, why did I have to choose this one to hide in? This is such a bad idea.’

Chan smiled recognizing the familiar pitch, beelining straight for the sound, passing the other voices that may interrupt his route.

In a singular room, his in particular, you were the only one loud enough to break through.

‘Oh, shit, someone’s here. Please go away, please go away.’

No matter how carefully you tried to muffle your presence, it radiated from the closet, an open invitation to Chan’s mind-reading senses. He crept closer, footsteps soft as whispers, his hand hovering over the knob. With a slow, deliberate movement, he eased it open, revealing your figure barely concealed behind the racks of his half-filled closet. Your eyes darted to his, and a quiet “Fuck…” slipped out as he stepped inside, claiming the cramped space beside you.

The closet was shadowed in near-darkness, the room's lights off, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating through the slits of the closet in faint, wispy beams. As your eyes adjusted, you could just make out the silhouette of Chan, his figure close, a playfully smug smile catching the dim light as he settled in front of you.

‘What is he–’

Chan lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for silence before you could utter a protest. His eyes held yours with an intensity that had your pulse racing, each beat a rapid tattoo under the thin skin of your neck. Footsteps echoed faintly from the hallway outside, the other seekers passing by Chan’s room without a second thought, oblivious to the two of you hidden mere inches apart.

‘He’s so close. He smells so good,’ you thought, the hint of his cologne making your breath hitch. Chan couldn’t help the tiny grin tugging at his lips—props to him for choosing the good cologne today.

‘He’s practically pressed against me. Is this what dying and going to heaven feels like?’

Chan stifled a laugh, stepping even closer, until the heat radiating from his skin was undeniable. In a whisper, he teased, “Try not to get caught.”

“But you—” you started, barely finding your voice to remind him that he was in fact one of the people you’re not supposed to get caught from, only to have it die on your lips as his hand pressed lightly on the wall beside you, leaving little room to breathe, let alone escape.

“Shh,” he murmured, eyes glinting as he held you captive against the panel, a hair’s breadth away.

“Chan…” you murmured, half-breathless, gazing up at him with a mixture of confusion and exhilaration as the closeness left you dizzy, the space between you charged and impossibly small.

His eyes drifted down, seeing your lips pursed slightly in direction, calling to his attention, begging to be claimed.

‘He’s staring again.’ your thighs clenched against each other, hiding the pool of your heat as you could feel it seep through your panties. ‘He looks at me like this any longer I might just fuck him right here.’

Chan shifted closer, his nose grazing yours, so close he could catch the faint sweetness lingering on your breath. "You have to be quiet…real quiet," he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“W-why?” you stammered, the question coming out in a whisper as his hands found your hips, drawing you against him with a gentle but possessive pull.

He paused, his eyes flicking between yours, a soft smile teasing at the corner of his lips. “Because,” he breathed, his voice sending a delicious warmth down your spine, before he leaned in, closing the miniscule gap and bridging you together in the sweetest of symphonies.

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god–’

His hand clasped against your cheek, hips digging against yours and pinning you to the wall as his tongue traced in the inside of your mouth, exploring you until he could familiarize himself. He felt bound to you, having taste what’s been distant thought now a full blown movie, a movie that he'd rewatch until the day he dies.

Your hand caressed the back of his neck, tenderly kneading his skin and pushing yourself closer to his body. The hands that ached to touch him found their peace, gliding on his skin and feeling the outline of his body, through every contour and crevice, so hot it’s sweltering, simply melting underneath him.

‘This is so awesome…don’t ever make this stop…’

He held you by your thigh, brought it to his exposed side, and lifted you from the ground, crushing his weight against you to keep you in place. His eagerness poked against your stomach, taunting you with its size, and parting your mind for thoughts of its sensation plunging inside you, wrecking havoc.

‘Oh god, I’m gonna cum thinking about want I’d do when I fuck him.’

Chan softly chuckled, pulling away and looking at the glisten in your eyes, feeling your skin flushed against him, hearing how your mind screamed for him in ache. “Are you—“

“Yes,” you gingerly nodded, not giving him a second to finish his sentence, “Whatever it is. Yes. Or no. Or whatever.”

‘Good god, get a grip. Desperate much?’

Chan’s hand crept under the fabric of your skirt, sliding down beneath the layer of green pantyhose and underwear, your vicious slickness immediately coating his fingers. “I like you a little desperate,” he confessed in staggered whispers before slotting his lips between yours again.

Your throbbing cunt thrummed beneath his digits, pulsing around him as he pushed on inside, already coating his knuckles. You seized around him, clenching your stomach, as a clear moan escaped you.

‘What was that?’ Chan sensed Seokmin’s thoughts a mere meters away, franticness in his eyes and the voice of his fellow seeker followed after. “Hello?”

“Hey Seok, Just me!” Chan covered for you, fingers thrusting as they curled up inside you. “I hit my foot on something, so I’m taking a minute breather in my room. No one's here!”

“Mmh, okay, Buddy. Be more careful!”

As soon as the coast was clear, his attention averted back to you. “I said be quiet, didn’t I?”

His hand clamped over your mouth and blocking sounds from leaving as he entered another finger, feeling your muffles hummed satisfyingly against his palm. His smile stretched to the corner of his face. “I told you I’d make you shut up wouldn’t I?”

You rocked into the merciless paces of Chan’s fingers, feeling them massage you in and out, as his palm ground itself against your clit. You head knocked back against the wall behind you, joined by Chan at your hip, letting his fingerss fuck you the way you wish his cock finally would. ‘Oh Lee Chan, Lee Chan, Lee Chan…’

You steadied your arms around his shoulders, eyes fluttering in and out of focus, while your hips snapped back him. It was second nature at this point, responding to him with nothing but open arms.

‘His fingers…my god, his fucking fingers…’

“Faster? Deeper?” Chan offered, sweat dampening tendrils hitting at his eyes.

You nodded, giving no coherent answer as he took away your ability to breathe. ‘Yes, both, please.’

He’d give it to you, watching as tears swelled up in eyes from ecstasy, ramming his digits until he didn’t care who could hear the delicious squelching, the manhunt game so far back in subconscious, it was practically nonexistent.

‘Needed him so bad, need him to fuck me so stupid I could feel him in my throat…Lee Chan…’

Even without mind reading, the look in your eyes told him everything. Your gaze was intense, charged with an incredible sense of longing, as if it held secrets that could start wars or shatter worlds. There was something almost dangerous in it, introducing him to a hunger he couldn’t ignore. How had he never noticed this before? It practically screamed at him to cross these invisible lines. And for a heartbeat, the world felt as if it teetered on the edge, making him realize his touch unleashed something neither of you could hold back from.

When you contracted around his fingers, there was no better word than heaven, the thick release in his enveloping grasp, collecting at the cup of his hands.

Chan showed a hint of mercy, letting your feet settle back on the ground. You pried your tired eyes open, letting the faint moonlight help you take in the dreamy sight before you as you slowly recovered from the waves of your climax. Chan, clearly intrigued by the quiet of your mind, ran his tongue along the underside of his palm, jolting you back to life as you watched, breath hitching at the sight.

‘Oh my…’

Chan grinned, his tongue dragging against every curve, every wrinkle, following even the drip running down his forearm, his eyes not breaking a beat from you as he ate your cum off his fingers. He pressed against you, sweaty and flushed, ensuring every bit of you laid flat on his tongue, swallowing every sweet drop of that golden nectar, softly moaning about its flavor. “Better than my favorite candy.”

‘Oh, this man needs to get me pregnant.’

“A couple more to go! Watch out!” Joshua shouted from down the hall.

There was a brief moment of trepidation Chan felt, cursing his friend mentally for getting their tasks done so quickly, stunned that you and him were able to keep hidden for so long. Chan knew he had to make a move, and quickly.

Shoving up the skirt of your dress, he tore the delicate seams of your green stockings, and a gasp escaped your lips before you had the chance to hush yourself. As soon as you were exposed, Chan sank to his knees, wasting no time. He gripped the ruched hem of your dress, gathering the fabric in his hands in rushed anticipation, pushing aside your panties with his teeth and burying his face inside your warm pussy.

‘This little whore, oh my..’

His tongue pushed flat against you, taking you in at long stripes as his eyes bordered on impatience and deliberate, savoring at how you squirmed against him when his pink muscle curled and licked circles at your entrance. You pushed your weight on him, cried at the thought of him eating you alive when any moment you could get caught.

‘He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. Fuck, those pretty eyes looking back at me. He looks so good eating me out. God, fuck.’

He took your free hand, guiding it to the back of his head, gesturing you to hold on, and like magic, the lower half of his face vanished between your wet folds.

“Oh gah–” You’re the one to shut yourself off this time with the sharp bite of your lip, focused on the passionate exploration of Chan’s tongue–fucking you with intent, and you fought off the urge to scream. He held you up by your thighs, the darkness in his eyes zoning in on you, drunk in thought of witnessing another orgasm, and amplified your senses with the presence of his fingers. You gripped his hair for dear life–further encouraging him to go deeper–worshiping how the soft strands felt against the pads of your fingers as Chan worshipped every inch inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to whisper, combing through his hair. “Hmm, that’s so nice…god, you’re so hot eating me out like that…”

Chan was starting to confuse your words for thoughts, or maybe was it your thought for words, whatever it was, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear them, your delightful praises directed towards him, or see that beautiful face contort with pleasure.

Your hips began to do that familiar jerk, your pelvis hitting his nose as you sensed something explosive near. Your sounds of ache muffled under your hands, and you twisted your hips, gasp breaking out of you helplessly, and Chan got that familiar fresh flavor of you on his tongue as it dripped out of you.

He helped himself up to pin you back on the wall, the taste of yourself in his mouth, startling addictive, and you reciprocated, getting everything that he’s worked for.

As he pulled away, staring back at you with an unspoken intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you going.”

Chan led you out of the closet, cum still dripping down your legs, joining the rest of the group to announce your victory: a month-long coupon for free snacks at the gaming café. The triumphant smile on your face as you timidly crossed your legs, only hinting at the far more thrilling victory you’d just shared in Chan’s closet.

The other seekers playfully elbowed him, teasing him for being a terrible seeker. "I’m shocked you found anyone with how long you took!" they laughed. But the mischievous glint in his eyes was hidden under a veil of innocuous feigned confusion. “Guess, I really suck at this,” he shrugged, “Glad you guys had fun.”

And everyone did have fun—so much so that nearly the whole crowd insisted on another round. A round that you and Chan would find just as—if not even more—entertaining than the first.

As soon as Chan locked the door for the PC Cafe, he reclaimed your lips, feeling for your heat underneath your dress and its familiar throb. “Finally, some privacy.”

As fellow hiders this round, you slipped away to a more secluded spot, somewhere private enough to pick up right where you’d left off. Here, with no one else to interrupt, the two of you could finally delve into that spark that you both have only begun starting to understand, the excitement between you simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be explored in the quiet privacy you’d carved out.

‘Lee Chan, the man you are.’

He slipped you out of your dress and let it hit the ground, leading you to behind the counter and pressing you against it. You looped your arms around him, tugging his dinosaur onesie off with your foot and kicking it to the ground along with your dress, caressing his cock protected under a layer of his briefs. “Chan, please I want you.”

‘More than you’d ever know.’

“I know,” He chuckled, tearing off the final obstacle of your underwear. And stuffing it in the abandoned skin of his Halloween costume. “And I’ll show just the kind of treatment you get when you ask nicely.”

He flipped you around, tearing your pantyhose higher on your ass, and bent you over in front of him. He slowly, and deliberately, fished out his cock, letting it slap against the curve of your ass, hearing the pleads inside your head.

‘God, he so knows what he’s doing. What a tease.’

His lips connected to the back of your neck, with a free hand squeezed around the flesh of your breast. “Say it.”

“Chan…” you whined. ‘Don’t make me beg.’

“I want to hear how much you want me inside of you. I need some transparency from you.”

“Of course, I want it, Chan.” You back yourself against him, leading the head of his cock towards your puffy slit. “Please.”

“Use your words, dirty girl,” He harshly whispered, invoking a feeling not only rare but foreign inside of you as you clenched around nothing.

“I-I want you inside me, Chan.”

“Doing what?”

You whined, “Fucking me.” ‘Using me.’

He scoffed, brimming with pride, readjusting your position as he saw fit, and slowly pushed himself inside you. When you adjust to his size, you had only begun to realize the impact it’s have on you, how it’s be hard to forget such a sensation, until he’s dragging his cock in and out of you. You clawed on wooden counter, bracing yourself, and echoing a low, long groan as he covered every inch of him in your slick walls.

The first thrust was methodical, calculated, determined to show you the whole range of what he’d give you and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated, but as he found his pace, you began to find your balance. “Oh, fuck…”

You were glued to him, his hips pounding himself against you as his hands collected your breasts in his hands, lips kissing up your neck and behind your ear. “Gonna make you fucking wish your only regret was not fucking me sooner.”

How he easily found your spot was mystery – one that you didn’t think too long and hard on – until he just kept doing it, pulling you back against him as he released his inhibitions. Your sweat pilled against each other, unsure where yours started and where his ends, your bodies intertwined into one sickening display of what almost a year of unspoken lust looked like.

‘Oh, I could get used to this. If he fucked me like this everyday, I wouldn’t complain for a single second.’

And Chan was almost counting on that.

He turned you around again, missing your face and admiring how your disheveled hair only framed its intoxicating aura as he lifted you against the counter and pushed his cock inside you as he towered over you.

The single chain around his neck brushed against your face repeatedly, and calling to your attention loud enough for only Chan to hear.

‘Omg his chain…this is like one of those Twitter memes where fanatics dream of their faves’ chain hanging above their face during sex…and it’s actually happening to me with Chan.’

Suddenly, he had an idea. “Bite on it.”

You blinked at him, registering his words as he suddenly stopped his thrusts. “…What?”

“Bite on my chain while I fuck the living shit out of you.”

You took your time processing the thought, before slowly leaning in, the chain barely meeting your lips before you took it between your teeth and pulled him down with you.

Chan’s once kind smile warped into something more sinister, more primal, and he granted you what he had promised.

His cock slammed against you, reverberating your walls, and you clung on the counter under you, while your vision flickered to the back of your skull. Gritting against the chain on your enamel, your head could not form words clear in any sense, just the echo of yours skin clashing and Chan reveled in that. “Good fucking girl.”

He hand struck your side, squishing you against the counter, feeding you his raw power course through you until he’s fill you up, over and over again. You feed his ego in a way he never expected from someone and wasn’t sure he’d be willing to let it go with whatever happened next, so he was gonna savor the moment he had.

As his arousal coursed through him, squeezed every ounce of energy out of you, ensuring he’d hear his name on your brain and out your lips. He held your tired body, stroking your sides, panting against your skin, and felt the final release ebb out of him like a stream, coating you in perfect white before settling down a stool nearby, sitting you on his lap as you rested against the security of his strong, broad frame.

Wherever this left the two of you, Chan just knew he needed to have you. And considering the emptiness in his head, he needed you for more than he realized.

#thediamondlifenetwork #svthub #dino smut #seventeen smut #dino #lee Chan #seventeen #lee chan smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #dino x reader #dino x you #dino x y/n #seventeen fanfic #seventeen dino #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n

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kismetlotts · 2 months ago

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Kinktober 🎃 day three: Age Gap!

cw: age gap (that is legal), dads best friend trope, virgin reader, pervy John Price, oral sex, mentions of oral sex on John, mentions of bondage, ‘good girl’, degrading names mentioned, mentions of manipulation, riding, creampie, facial

Dad’s best friend John who is always staring at you, eyes lost and almost dizzy looking- like he’s stuck in a trance or deep in thought. Dad’s best friend John who will smile at you, patting your shoulder as he greats you, his hand slipping slightly just skimming over your delicate breasts. Dad’s best friend John who is way too fucking old for you: i mean way too old.

You sat on the guys knee before you could even remember, he helped raise you, taking you to places- picking you up, teasing you like a normal man to his best friend’s daughter would. Not some sick and twisted pervert thats mind has been taken up with thoughts ever since you’d became legal. Naughty fucking thoughts.

He’d wonder what colour panties you were wearing as you pranced around the house, a small smile on your face and you greet him nervously. Maybe they were frilly and pink, so sweet and adorable just like you were- just like you’d taste. God he wanted you on his tongue- riding his face softly as you cry and wail for him to not tell your dad.

And of course he wouldn’t darling, he couldn’t risk his sweet little thing to be taken away from him. He knew it was sick, and for a while he’d tried to silence his thoughts, put a nail in his disgusting sexual fantasies, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t take one look at you without wondering if you were as wet and turned on as his cock was, but hey, he wasn’t going to fuck you. It wasn’t bad to think of them thoughts if he’d promised to himself to keep his hands to himself- he can look but not touch. Not until tonight at least.

Your dad was out of town, thanks to him- leaving you home alone this halloween. You’d be sat by the door, bowl of candy in your hand and you gave children handfuls with your soft innocent smile, soft innocent smile he’d ruin later.

Your movements were so youthful- looked angelic. He’d wait in the shadows, eyes locked onto the outside of your abode, waiting for the heard of family’s in costume to leave before quickly climbing the steps of your porch and giving your door a loud knock.

It was silly really, fucking ridiculous taking into account all he could lose. He could probably lose his job- as he and your father worked together, could lose his long friendship with your dad definitely and most importantly, he could lose you. If you were to reject him- he wouldn’t know what to do with himself- luckily enough he wasn’t counting on that happening. He’d feel your folds against his dick even if he has to tie you down to do it.

Through the blurred glass of the door he watched you hurriedly pace over, stalking you like prey as your hands gripped the halloween bowl full of vibrant little candy bars, opening the door with a smile before blinking in suprise.

“John?” You spoke, voice almost cracking from the surprise because you weren’t expecting him to arrive. Not today when your dad was away at least.

“Trick or treat.” He teased, pushing past you as he waltzed his way to the kitchen: no invitation needed. Waiting for you by the expensive marble island your dad had recently installed, back perched and arms crossed. Price hated the modern look people gave their homes nowadays, he liked the simple- warm cozy atmosphere over the bland and boring ‘expensive’ type.

You could see the muscles beneath his simple black t-shirt and despite his age he sure did look good. Subconsciously finding your lip caught between your two teeth. What was happening to you tonight? You’d been alone with John before so why did it now feel so.. different?

“My dad’s not here this weekend unfortunately..” You spoke, planting the bowl down on the island, hands placed on the top of the surface and he couldn’t help but watch as your tits buldged so shamelessly, like you were just asking for him to touch, showing off to get a reaction. The sexual atmosphere was enough to send Price over the edge but he clicked his jaw, taking a deep breath and began the conversation.

“I know he isn’t. I gave him the job to do.” It came out sharply and more truthful than he wished it to, taking into account the little eye twitch you did as your store into his. His cock slapping the material of his underwear, leaking more precum than he had ever. The way you were looking at him was pornographic, dirty: you fucking knew what he was here for and you wanted to give it to him.

He didn’t want to waste anytime, instantly walking over towards you, tucking hair behind your ear as he breathed in your scent, grunting in response. He looked down at you, so small and so obedient below him, a good girl. His tongue met your neck and he licked a warm hot line up to your jaw, groaning slowly as he whispered inside your ear.

“Tell me, darling. You a virgin?” Your face heated pathetically as you nodded and heard his chuckle, he was so desperate to get inside you now. Knowing how tight and wet you were bound to be, knowing that he could fuck and fuck all the innocence out of you until you became his personal little cum whore- he could keep you as his if you let him inside. Having leverage and something to hang over your head when you are misbehaving or forgetting who owns you. ‘Oh you don’t want to get on all fours and beg for my dick? That’s fine, I’ll just call your daddy and let him know how bad you wanted it inside you not long ago.’

His hands fell from your face and ear, down to your hips. Falling to one knee as he looked up at you from the floor. Fingers tugging down your bottoms and panties showing your cute little pussy.

“I’ll be gentle okay- it might feel a little strange at first but then you’ll love it.” He whispered, his breath hitting your clit and sending aches of need and desire around your body. You nodded hesitantly because you shouldn’t be doing this- your dad would go fucking insane. His tongue hit your clit, flicking up then down slowly as he sucked- beard rubbing against your thighs. Smirking as you wail in pleasure, fisting his hair quickly and trying to grind your pussy against his tongue. You needed more, god you wanted him to make you feel so good.

He ate you messily, hungry and wanting to drown inside your flavour. It was fucking delicious, his nose and chin dripping with your juices, his mouth busy before he pulled away from your pussy. Grabbing your side and bringing you down to the floor with him, fishing his leaking length out his jeans and and forcing you to ride him.

He was bouncing you up and down, guiding you through it, forcing you to take him despite the tears trickling down your face. He was thick and fucking long, and he hurt like a bitch. The door knocked and rang loudly a few times as you whimpered, trying to standup but he pinned you down, getting on top of you. Fucking you while looking at your face.

“They can get their treat after I get mine.” As he fucked you faster, all the doubts and worries he had vanishing. John just wanted to cum, he was like a dog in heat, pounding his gorgeous little sweetheart on her dad’s kitchen floor. His dick twitched as your hole tightened around him, sucking him inside again before he felt himself undo. Already shooting out his warm cum as he pulled out coating you in his white semen. Your tits shone in the light as beads of white hit your skin, your face and hair dripping with it and he couldn’t have seen a better sight. He could barley look away, his poor little virgin girl infront of him, defiled and fucked out- covered in his cum as your chest heaved for more air. Panting and probably throbbing from the pain.

He stood up shakily, pulling up his underwear before heading back for the door, taking one last look at the mess he’d made before slipping out. He’d have to come back again because one little fuck wasn’t enough. He was addicted to you now and there was no going back.

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kizzer55555 · 6 months ago

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Core Gems

So when a ghost becomes injured, they have a last ditch defense where they retreat into their core. And I mean, injured badly where their body is rip apart to the point they can’t hold a solid form anymore. And they basically go into a hibernation state until they are strong enough to form again.

Ellie, Danny, and Dan are all injured in a final battle against the GIW. The organization was destroyed and the ghosts were safe but the halfas ended up being so injured that they reverted to core form and then went to sleep for a bit. When they woke up, they were still weak but at least recovered enough to gain consciousness. And realize…they are in some kind of auction…in the middle of a heist. It appeared that two furries (one in a bat costume and one in a cat costume) were ducking it out. And they…they were a necklace. All three of them had been turned into a necklace with their cores as gems accompanied by sapphires, pearls, and opals. And frankly gorgeous craftsmanship as the metal was crafted around their cores as if to cradle them and the other gems.

Unfortunately, they were too weak to take a form properly, they could still feel the strain on their bodies. But at least they could still communicate through their auras. Then the cat lady punched a hole in the glass container surrounding them and grabbed their necklace.

However, the bat grabbed the other end and it resulted in a sort of tug-a-war. Meanwhile, Danny, Ellie, and Dan were having a back and form commentary on the situation and what they should do. Completely unheard by the other party.

In the corner of their eye, the three halfas finally noticed a third contender. Some kind of clown who was…hold on…holding a gun?! And it was pointed straight at the two fighting furies who had yet to notice him. The ghosts’ protective instincts went into overdrive and they frantically tried to shout, yell, move. Just do something to warn the two but their cries fell on deaf ears. All they succeeded in doing was faintly glow which immediatly caught the attention of the fighting duo. The two turned to look at the strange necklace but right at that moment, the clown fired and a gunshot rang throughout the auction room. Having no other options, Danny and the others poured every ounce of ectoplasm they had to try and phaseshift, making the two furries intangible as the bullets passed right through them, but in their shock, the two jumped away in opposite directions and accidentally ripped the necklace apart. Gems and pearls went flying and the three cores bounced along the ground.

Luckily, the two finally noticed the clown and went to deal with him and his minions who had appeared. Seemingly putting their fight on hold and forming a temporary truce. The three halfas could only watch as the battle finally wound down, ending with the cops barging into the place and arresting the clown and his grunts, the cat managing to escape with half the scattered gems and pearls from the broken necklace along with a few other jewelry pieces (none of their cores though) and the bat leaving through a skylight.

The auction continued and in the end, despite being broken, their necklace seemed to have caught someone’s interest. A man named Bruce Wayne bought up every piece of the shattered jewelry wear. The auctioneers appeared relived that the item managed to sell in the end and gratefully gave it to him.

Bruce had no idea what happened at the auction, but he could have sworn that some of the gems faintly glowed right before he and Selina were shot. If the necklace was some sort of magical item, then he needed to understand exactly what has been brought to Gotham. It was unfortunate that Selena had taken some parts of the necklace but he utilized his vast wealth to make sure all the other parts ended in his possession. Now he would take them back to the mansion for examination.

#Dpxdc #dcxdp #kizzer55555 ideas #Bruce thinks the necklace is magical. He’s technically not wrong.#When he gets home he immediately puts each gem in a glass container to examine them. For the longest time though nothing happens.#They all look like normal gems except for the main three of the piece. He can’t identify what kind of gem they are.#The gems are perfect spheres with various shades of blue (with hints of green and white) swirling around.#The colors almost look like they are moving in slow motion. Still. Nothing happens as he examines them and no strange events happen.#That is until one day he decided to take the gems to be examined by a professional and a villain attacked.#A piece of building was about to crush him when a wall of ice appeared as a shield over him. After that he took them back to the cave.#Bruce looks up thousands of documents about enchanted necklaces and artifacts but finds nothing. He even calls in favors from JLD.#Zatanna doesn’t recognize them but feels some kind of power coming off the gems however it doesn’t feel malevolent (at least for 2 of them)#(The last gem is neutral.) Also Constantine was unavailable (*cough* hiding from responsibilities *cough*)#The other bats get interested in the gems. Tim has a theory that they are some kind of protective charms. Damian agrees.#(Everyone is shocked Tim and Damian agree on something). So while Bruce is continuing his investigation the other bats decide to do some #‘Field testing’ and take the gems out. Consequently the gems end up saving their lives and they discover a few things they can do like make #The wearer invisible. Intangible. Create green barriers/constructs. Create ice. Vibrate when an enemy is coming. And much more.#The bats fashion them into new individual bracelets/necklaces and think they are the coolest thing. They have powered up protective charms!#The halfas just wish these kids would STOP PUTTING THEIR LIVES IN DANGER! What are they MORONS?!#Most of the ectoplasms they recover is used to protect the bats and nearby civilians.#(Dan also trolls people and is mostly protective his siblings though)#People notice the new power ups. A rougue gets his hands on a gem and tries to use it ONCE to attack something but the gems didn’t respond.#Then it froze the rough’s legs to the ground.#Much time later the gems are swapped between the bats and alternated and have just become a new item in their belt #(batman was not pleased but eventually got used to it and begrudgingly accepted that they were useful. Especially when they save his kids)#They come to a Justice league meeting and Constantine finally sees them.#His mouth drops in shock and he frantically asks where they got GHOST CORES?! And this is when the bats finally realise what they have.#And are horrified to realize EXACTLY what they are holding and that these ‘gems’ were technically ALIVE.#Meanwhile the three Halfas have been kinda chilling but also working their butts off to keep this family alive. It was a fulltime job.

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months ago

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🪱🧠 Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

It's Wednesday, peeps! Post a brainworm, tag some friends!

Today, I'm thinking about ...

... Eddie playing guitar in the band on a luxury cruise ship. Sure, the passengers are a bunch of snobby assholes with an abominable taste in music, but Wayne was so eager for him to fill in when his coworker's son broke that arm, and the pay is decent. Almost worth putting on the straightjacket of a suit and the bowtie that makes him feel like a clown.

At least he isn't stuck doing the entertainment programme for the passengers’ spoiled little brats. He's seen the stupid, cheap costumes in the staff garderobe. The seams on that Peter Pan costume are frayed and coming apart, and whatever poor girl has to play Tinkerbell will barely be able to cover her ass in that flimsy dress.

Except the person who shows up to collect the brats on the first day, clad in sheer tights and the skimpy green atrocity, glittery tulle wings strapped to their back, isn't a girl. Eddie’s fingers fumble on the guitar strings - not that he can be blamed, he thinks - and Tinkerdude turns and fucking winks at him. He herds the brats out and into the waiting arms of his partner, a lanky, freckled chick wearing what looks like … yup, the Peter Pan costume. Then he's gone, leaving Eddie marveling at the vision he just beheld.

He meets Tinkerdude in the garderobe later that night (and absolutely doesn't almost swallow his own tongue, thank you very much), and the next night, and the night after that. Over the course of the cruise, Eddie finds out more and more about him.

His name is Steve. He's set to study business economics. He'd rather do something with kids, but his dad insisted he take over the family business. Right now, he's doing a gap year, getting to know different jobs on the cruise line. He wears the skimpy fairy costume so that his partner Robin won't have to. He likes sports and 80s pop music, he has a heart of gold and a delightfully bitchy sense of humor, and he makes the sweetest little noises when Eddie fucks him against the wall of the staff garderobe on the last night of the cruise.

And if Eddie gets a call a few weeks later, asking him to play guitar on another ship because the son of the cruise line's owner specifically requested him? Well, he's about to find out one more thing about Steve.

Edit: The incredible @arelliann drew Steve and Robin in their costumes!!! 💚

Some no-pressure tags: @eyesofshinigami @a-little-unsteddie @steddie-island @vegasol @medusapelagia

@sunflowerharrington @matchingbatbites @devondespresso @tangerinesteve

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #wiggly wednesday #hype's wiggly Wednesday #hype's brainworms

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cjsoleil · 1 month ago

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You’re My Angel Baby (Mingi x Reader)

Summary: Y/N goes to a Halloween party and ends up taking care of a cute, drunk cowboy outlaw. Mingi wakes up in the morning with a vague memory of a girl dressed as an angel, and decides he has to meet her.

Halloween night, and somehow Y/N got swindled into joining her best friend, Seonghwa and his boyfriend, Hongjoong, to some party one of their friends planned. It took a lot of convincing, and even more bribery, but she did agree to go. She's dressed in a all white, a flowey long in the back short in the front dress with pure white boots. She put a silver, sparkly and floral headpiece in her hair and beside her sits a pair of fake white angel wings that she’ll put on when she gets out of the car. A cliche yes, but it was a little last minute. She borrowed the wings from a friend.

“Again with the pirate costume Hongjoong?” Y/N teases from the backseat. Hongjoong is wearing a bandana, white jeans, white shirt that is kinda like a blouse and a jacket. Clearly a pirate, “Is that three years in a row now?”

“Shut up.” Hongjoong snaps his usual comeback.

“You should appreciate me more Joongie.” Seonghwa pats the hand resting on his thigh, “I’ve been adapting my costumes to fit yours for years.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want couples costumes!” That’s true, Seonghwa dressed up as a pirate too a few years back, then a parrot, now the mermaid, well, more like siren. He did his make up to suit his look, wearing a sparkly dress with baggy pants and he painted little scales around his ears, neck, and hands. It’s very much a DIY costume, but still very pretty. He’s going to run out of ideas soon. Y/N zones back in to see the car stopped at a red light and the two boys smiling at each other all cute. She groans and wonders how she’s ended up being these two perminate third wheel.

“Do I really have to come?”

“Sorry dear.” Seonghwa coos and looks back at his friend, “But we need a sober driver.”

“Besides. Your a nursing student, you can stop people from dying from alcohol poisoning.” Hongjoong adds.

“I cannot. You better not bring some shit faced frat boy to me and expect me to take care of him. Or her. Anyone. It’s not my job to take care of people outside my placement.” Because Y/N is not interested in dealing with whatever asshole drank too much. If they get alcohol poisoning from being stupid, it’s not anyone’s problem but their own.

“Whatever you say ratchet.”

“I’ll show you ratchet, Hongjoong.”

“Be nice you two.”

At the party, Y/N makes sure to stay close to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, and she smiles pleasantly at the people they talk to. Luckily it’s not all bad, Jongho and Yeosang are there too, so at least there’s some people she knows. She watches over her friends while they drink, making sure they don’t do anything very stupid. She can condone a little stupidity. It’s all very boring. She doesn’t have a lot of people that she can talk to, and she doesn’t have anything to really do. There’s some people dancing on the open floor, but she’d honestly rather die than become involved with that. On the bright side, someone had the decency to provide food. So after telling her friends, she wanders into the kitchen area and looks at what they have. There’s candy in a big bowl on the counter, and obviously a shit ton of alcohol she’s not able to drink, nothing great. She wishes they had cinnamon doughnuts or something, when a plate on the counter further away catches her eye.

“What the hell!” She whispers shouts, going over and grabbing an candy apple. There very clearly bought by an actual place that knows how to make them based off how well made they are. So she eats one. Or four. Who knows. Fuck she wishes they had a caramel apple too. Those are the best fall treats.

Someone else wanders into the kitchen, Y/N ignores him. Then the sound of glass breaking catches her attention. She turns her head to see a boy dressed as a cowboy staring at the broken cup on the floor, the cupboard at his head is open. He’s wearing a hat and a mask that covers the bottom half of his face, a leather jacket and tight pants. Despite not seeing much of his face, the boy is clearly drunk based off his heavy movements and pink ears. He’s also, Y/N must admit, very attractive. Maybe it’s the effect of the mask, but she just knows a pretty face hides under the mask. She watches as he kneels down, about to pick up the glass.

“Stop.” The boy looks up at her, stopping his movement, “Stay still. You're going to hurt yourself.” After making sure the boy is actually listening to her, Y/N looks around the kitchen for a broom or something. She doesn’t end up finding one, but she does find a rag, so she goes back to the boy, rag in hand just to see him with large pieces of glass in his hand.

“What did I just say?” Y/N sighs and cleans up the glass around the man and taking the piece from his hand, throwing it all out. She goes back to the still kneeling cowboy and crouches next to him, seeing his hand is bleeding. She cringes, not because of the blood, she’s used to that, but just because she imagines it hurts.

“Look at this. You should have listened to me.” She scolds, and the boy has enough sense to be ashamed, looking down.

“Sorry Angel.” He says, speech a little slurred and she can tell he’s pouting behind the mask, “Help me? Please?” Y/N sighs, looks like she’s playing caretaker tonight after all. At least he seems to be nice. She helps him stand up, which is a little hard because he’s much bigger than her.

“What’s your name?”

“Mingi.” She introduces herself as well.

“Well Mingi, let’s get to a bathroom so you can stop bleeding all over the place.” Y/N walks with Mingi, keeping a hand on his back and stabilizing him when he stumbles. Mingi cups his good hand under the bleeding one, but a few drops still get on the floor. She just ignores it, not her problem.

Y/N notices that people are watching her and Mingi, but she just gives them a dirty look when they catch her eye.

“People need to mind their business.” She mumbles, looking around for wherever the bathroom could be. She doesn’t just want to open random doors. More out of fear of being traumatized than out of respect for the homeowners privacy. She doesn’t even know whose party this is, it wouldn’t matter if she chose to snoop a little. Well, that’s a little hypocritical considering what she just said.

“There.” Mingi points to a closed door and Y/N opens it to see a bathroom.

“Okay, wash your hand and go sit on the toilet while I look for a bandage.” Mingi obeys and Y/N rifles through the medicine cabinet. She grabs bandages and isopropyl, as well as a cotton ball.

“Hold out your hand cowboy.”

“Outlaw.” She hears him mumble as she dips some of the isopropyl onto the cotton ball.

“Hm?”

“Outlaw, not cowboy.” Y/N smiles, and gently grabs Mingi’s hand.

“Outlaw, this may sting a bit.” She plays into his words, because what is the harm? While she doesn’t know the difference between an outlaw and a cowboy, she’s not about to start an argument over it. Mingi only cringes a little when he feels the disinfectant. Then Y/N grabs the roll of bandages, wrapping his hand. Mingi stares at her as she works.

“Pretty Angel.” He mumbles out, and Y/N just barely catches it.

“What a charmer.” She laughs, not taking the words of a drunk man seriously. After a few more moments, she’s done with the bandage.

“There.” She pats his hand a few times, “Now there won’t be blood all over the place. Well, anymore blood. I feel bad for whoever has to clean that up.” She laughs and he looks up at her, staring with wide eyes. He keeps his hand held out to her, “What is it?”

“Kiss it better.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss it better please?” Now, anyone else and she would’ve said no instantly and walk away. But Mingi seems so genuine. And he’s so cute and sweet. So Y/N gives a quick kiss to the palm of his bandaged hand.

“Better?” Mingi nods excitedly. He’s still wearing his mask. He should probably take that off, what if he throws up?

“Mingi. Take off your mask please.” Mingi nods and lifts his good hand to his face, tugging at the fabric. But he doesn’t actually do anything efficient. Just how much did he drink? Finding this a little pathetic, Y/N decides doing it herself would be better.

“Mingi, how about I help you?”

“Sure.” She gets the mask off quickly, fingers just grazing against Mingi’s hot ears.

I was right she thinks when she sees Mingi’s face fully, he is hot. Okay, the stares make more sense now. She puts the mask on the sink.

“Thank you Angel.” He says, smiling at the girl.

“You do know that’s not my name right?” Based off Mingi’s confused look, it’s clear he does not understand that.

“Whatever. Do you have a friend to watch over you?”

“Yunho.” Mingi answers, a name Y/N is somewhat familiar with, “but he left. Don’t know where he is.” Y/N is irritated hearing that. Mingi’s friend just abandoned him while he’s clearly not in his right mind, what if someone took advantage of him? Or if he drank more and got alcohol poisoning, or made the stupid decision to drive? When this Yunho comes back, she’s going to give him a strong lecture on how to treat your intoxicated friends.

“We can hang out until he gets here then.” Mingi looks happy hearing that, smiling brightly.

“Thank you Angel.”

“You are so polite.” Y/N comments, and gives into her urge to pat his cheek gently. Then she helps him stand up again, but when he’s standing, Y/N notices that he looks a little off. She’s about to ask about it, but then she hears Mingi make a gagging sound.

“Shit!” She lifts the toilet seat and pushes Mingi to sit, just in time. Mingi throws up in the toilet, and Y/N rubs his back sympathetically. She takes off his hat and holds it in her other hand.

Once the sickness passes, Mingi leans back and is panting and sweating a little.

“Poor guy.” Y/N puts the hat on his lap before opening the drawer under the sink, grabbing a rag. She runs it over cold water and rings it out, before going back over to Mingi. She holds his chin and wipes his face gently. He hums in content.

“Feels good.” He hums again, Y/N compares him to a happy cat. When she’s done, she wets another rag and lays it over the back of his neck. She lets him be for a while, wanting the nausea to pass before even trying to move him again.

“Hey Mingi.” He looks over to her, blinking tiredly, “I’m gonna go do something real quick-“

“Noo.” Hands grab her wings, tugging at the fake feathers, “Don’t go.”

“It will only be for a minute.”

“Angel, stay with me please.” Y/N is left standing still. The sentiment means a lot more than it should, coming from a drunk man. She sighs, wondering whatever made her so soft hearted. Seonghwa and Hongjoong will just have to wonder where she is for a while. So she grabs the mouthwash from under the sink and fills the cap half way, giving it as well as a small cup she found for Mingi to spit in. When he does so, she cleans out the cup in the sink. Curse her for being so nice. And curse Mingi for being so cute. If he wasn’t, she probably would’ve just cleaned up his cut and let him be.

Okay, maybe she isn't really nice.

“Okay cowboy- sorry, outlaw.” She then clicks her tongue with though, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Want to go to my room.”

“Your room? Do you live here?” Mingi nods, stretching his neck.

“Yeah. With my roommates.” Well this makes things a little easier. She will simply bring Mingi to his bedroom so he can sleep this off, and he’ll wake up in the morning without any recollection of her, or anything else that happened tonight. As well as a massive hangover. He’ll probably have to skip class tomorrow, if he has any.

“Wait, do you know where you got those candy apples- actually don’t answer that. Are you feeling better?” Mingi nods, and Y/N squints her eyes at him, “Are you sure? Is your head dizzy, stomach hurting?”

“M’okay.” Well, he is definitely looking more alive than before, so Y/N choses to believe him.

“Up we go then.” She holds out her hands and Mingi grabs them, allowing her to hoist him up until he’s standing. Honestly, she’s pretty proud of herself for being strong enough to do that. When he’s stable, Y/N walks him down the hall until he points to a door, and tells her it’s his bedroom. She opens the door, and quickly ushers him to sit on his double bed that takes up most of the room. She understands the need though, he would never fit in a twin bed like her own.

“Tired Mingi?” The boy yawns in response, making her laugh. She helps Mingi with taking off his shoes and jacket, and Mingi takes off his own shirt.

Oh my god. Y/N has to stop himself from saying the words out loud. She can’t help it, he’s just so so hot. Like seriously, his face was beautiful enough as it is and his body- nope she can’t even think about it without feeling like a pervert. So she quickly pulls back the covers of the bed and gestures for Mingi to lay down there. Then she pulls the blankets over him. She stays standing beside the bed.

“There’s a place downtown that makes them.” Mingi says into the blankets.

“Makes what?”

“The apples. I don’t like sweet stuff very much, but I thought they’d be nice.” He yawns, “Expensive though.”

“I thought so.” Y/N laughs, before whispering playfully, “I’m pretty sure I ate like, half of them though. Sorry about that.”

“Did you like them?”

“Very much.”

“Then it was worth it.” Mingi smiles up at the girl, before patting the side of his bed. Y/N takes the invitation and sits.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Ruining your night.” Y/N smiles, and pets Mingi’s dark hair. She had already put his hat on his nightstand.

“Believe me or not, but this was the best part of my night Mingi.” And really, it was. She’s not into parties, nothing about them is appealing to her. As much as she complained about it to her friends earlier, this was a much more pleasant experience.

“Angel.”

“Yes?”

“You’re so beautiful. And kind.” Mingi lifts a hand, grabbing her arm and really underestimated his strength, pulling the girl on top of him. Letting out a yelp, Y/N plants her hands on the sides of Mingi’s head on the pillow. This leaves their faces only inches apart, and Y/N can smell the alcohol on Mingi. That makes her break eye contact with him and start to push her arms upwards. Before she can get far, Mingi cups her face with one hand, thumb under her chin and fingers splayed out on her cheek. The action puts her in such a state of shock, she doesn’t react in time to move away from him as he lifts his head up, pressing his lips to hers.

Her eyes widen and she quickly pulls away before the kiss can be considered anything more than a peck. Mingi whines when she pulls away.

“Mingi, no.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” She parrots, frowning a little, “You don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re my Angel baby.” He grins, lets out a little laugh before surging forward, kissing her again. Her mouth opens a little in surprise at being kissed again, giving Mingi the chance to push his tongue into her mouth, the taste of cheep beer still present. And Y/N is just disillusioned enough to lean in for a moment, and she probably would have actually reciprocated if her mind was any more fogged up from a simple kiss. But she’s not about to kiss someone who can’t possibly understand what they’re doing. Maybe kiss someone more would be more accurate.

So she pulls away again, this time pushing a hand on Mingi’s chest to keep him laying down flat on the bed. Mingi groans a little, a complaint, but doesn’t say much more. Until out of nowhere, he mutters.

“We should go out tomorrow.” Only a little fazed, Y/N shakes her head at the question.

“Honey, you’re probably not going to be able to stand properly tomorrow. Just go to sleep.” She continues to pet Mingi’s head, until she’s sure that he’s asleep. Standing up, she grabs the trash can in the corner of the room and puts it next to the bed. Then she grabs a sticky note from his desk and a pen. She writes a quick note, puts it on the nightstand before leaving the room, making sure to close the door as gently as he can.

The party is dwindling down, Y/N notes. So she easily finds Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

“Where were you?” Seonghwa asks when he sees her, “I was worried sick!”

“Sorry Hwa.”

“What were you doing?” Hongjoong questions.

“Playing nurse. Are you ready to go?”

“What happened to ‘I’m not taking care of some drunk loser’?”

“I guess he changed my mind.”

“He?” Seonghwa grins, making Y/N get this sudden feeling of dread, “Who was it? Was he hot? Was he nice to you? Of course he was, you would’ve kicked him to the curb if he was mean-“ Seonghwa trips over nothing, Hongjoong just catches him.

“Careful baby.”

“Thanks Joongie.” Seonghwa leans over and kisses the younger boy. Y/N pretends to gag.

“Wait, why is your face so red?”

“Let’s just go! Please.”

“Fine. You have to tell us all about this guy though!”

“Yeah yeah.”

When Mingi wakes up, he instantly wishes to be asleep again. His head hurts, and he feels so sick he can barely move. God, he shouldn’t have drank so much last night. He sits up, only to be hit with a wave of nausea that has him nearly doubled over.

“Fuck…” he takes a few deep breaths before standing up, groaning as he does so. He notices the trash can by his bed, and wonders how he had enough sense to grab that. Yunho must have moved it for him. His jacket, shoes and shirt are off, as well as his hat. Yunho must have done that too. He takes off his shirt and puts on a pair of sweatpants before heading to the bathroom.

When he comes out, he goes to the living room where Yunho greets him.

“Hey man-“

“Shhh.” Mingi holds his head in his hands as he sits on the couch, “Too loud.” Yunho’s voice was really just barely above a whisper.

“How much did I drink yesterday?”

“I stopped counting after the second beer and the third shot.”

“I swear Yunho, I’m never getting drunk again.” He looks down at his bandaged hand, and tries to recall exactly what he did to hurt himself.

“What happened to my hand?”

“How would I know?”

“Weren’t you the one that wrapped it?” Yunho stares at him with a surprised face.

“Damn, do you really not remember anything from last night?” Mingi shrugs.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I left around half way through with a few others to grab some beer and you insisted that you stay here. You kept on saying ‘I’m feeling great’ so I just told you to be careful and left. By the time I came back, you were tucked into bed and sleeping like the dead.” Mingi nods along, realizing he can’t rely on Yunho to fill in the blanks of his memory.

“Wait actually, I saw a note on your nightstand.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. Didn’t read it though.”

“Okay. Can you get me some painkillers or something?”

“Sure.” Mingi goes to his bedroom and there on the nightstand, is a bright pink sticky note. He grabs it and reads the words in black ink.

Hey Mingi,

I can imagine you have quite the hangover today, you were pretty drunk last night. Make sure to clean that cut of yours and wrap it up again, though it will probably be all healed in a few days (The power of a little kiss). Maybe I’ll see you around. Anyways, take care outlaw.

Yours, Angel.

Angel. Images of a woman with no clear face fills his mind. White feathers, the feeling of warm lips on his palm and a hand running through his hair.

Mingi comes out of his room, still holding the note.

“Yunho, did you see anyone dressed as an angel yesterday?”

“It was Halloween. Many people were. Why?”

“The girl that took care of me dressed as one. But I can’t remember her name.”

“What did she look like?”

“Uhh..” Mingi sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “She was pretty? Look, I’ll know her when I see her.”

“Does that really matter?” Yunho asks, tilting his head, “I mean, yeah, I get that she took care of you. That was very nice of her, but do you have to meet her?”

“Of course I do.” Mingi lays back down on rhe couch, closing his eyes.

“Oh my god you have a thing for her. You have a thing for a girl who’s name you do not know, you don’t know what she looks like and know nothing about her as a person.”

“Not true.” Mingi objects, “I know she’s sweet, pretty, angelic.” Mingi snorts, “Oh, and that she likes candy apples.”

“Whoa Mingi, sounds like it’s time to pop the question to Miss Angel.”

“I wish she would’ve left her number.” Mingi complains, placing a pillow over his face.

“Well, I’ll ask around if anyone knows her, but it’s gonna be hard without knowing anything about her.”

“Thanks Yunho.”

“I’m heading to class, you staying in?” Mingi nods slightly, “Thought so. Painkillers are in the kitchen.”

“Thanks Yunho. See ya.”

“Later.”

The next day, Mingi actually does go to school. He was hoping that miraculously, Angel would be in one of his classes. Unfortunately, this was not the case for him. Yunho, like he said, mentioned her to some people but at last, no luck. Really though, he didn’t expect more. At the moment, he’s at a cafe near campus with Hongjoong and San, doing a little group review.

“Where’s your other half?” San questions Hongjoong, wondering where the older boy is.

“He’s in the library.”

“And you left him alone?” Hongjoong rolls his eyes.

“I would’ve followed, but Seonghwa said that I couldn’t since he and ratchet were studying for biology I think.”

“Ratchet?” Mingi questions.

“Y/N. Seonghwa’s nursing friend.”

“That is so mean of you.” San says, shaking his head at Hongjoong nicknaming this poor girl after a crazy murderous nurse. Mingi finds the name a little familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it, so he doesn’t question it.

“You weren’t in class yesterday.” San states.

“Yeah, i had this massive hangover. Felt dead.”

“What happened with your hand?”

“I don’t remember, but I think I cut it on a piece of glass or something.”

“Damn, you really were wasted.” Mingi can only agree.

“Please please please please-“

“Seonghwa.”

“Y/N please just tell me about this guy.” Seonghwa begs, shaking Y/N’s shoulders. She was supposed to tell him on the way home from the party, but he fell asleep right away. And yesterday they were too busy, “You don’t even need to tell me who it was.”

“Fine.” Y/N relents, shutting her text book, “He was tall, handsome and sweet.”

“Oh!” Seonghwa puts his hands over his heart, “All one could want in a man.”

“You only have two of the three.” Seonghwa kicks her but is still laughing.

“He asked if he could go out with me?”

“What? You said yes right?” Y/N shrugs.

“I didn’t say anything. It was just talk anyways. He was drunk.”

“Either way, you should have left your number with him.”

“No point, he didn’t even know my name. Just called me Angel the whole night.”

“That is so cute but unhelpful.” Seonghwa sighs, “What did you guys even do?” She tells her friend about the boy cutting himself by accident and having to clean up his cut, and tuck him into bed.

“So cute.” He analyzes his friend for another moment, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. I can tell. What’s up?” Y/N dramatically groans and puts her heads in her hands, mumbling her words, “Excuse me?”

“We may have… kissed.”

“You kissed!” Seonghwa exclaims, Y/N is quick to shush him.

“Shut up!”

“Sorry this is just crazy to me.”

“What is? That guys only want to kiss me when they’re drunk?”

“Ha. Who initiated it?”

“Him obviously.”

“Come on! Give me the details.” Y/N can’t refuse.

“He kissed me, I said that was irresponsible, he kissed me again and fell asleep like five minutes after.” Seonghwa aw’s as Y/N dramatically rests her head on her arms.

“Wait, is this not cute? Were you not okay with it? If not, I’ll find him and beat him up.” Y/N looks up at him, “Fine, Hongjoong will beat him up.” A long pause, “Jongho will beat him up.”

“There you go. But no, it was… fine? Really, If he was sober, I probably would have actually kissed him back.” Though if he was sober, she’s sure neither of them would have paid the other any mind whatsoever.

“You know if you tell me his name I could probably find him and you set you guys up.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Noo.” Seonghwa pulls the girl into a hug, “We love you.”

“If you do, can we stop talking about this and study.”

“Fine. I have to go soon though, I said I’d meet up with Hongjoong later. Would you like to accompany us?”

“Ew.”

“You won’t be saying that when you and mystery boy get together. We can go on a double date!”

“Stop pushing your couple agenda on me.”

After a few hours of studying at the café, the two boys start to back up their bags to leave. San has already left. They hear the bell at the door ring, and Mingi’s sees Seonghwa make his way towards the table.

“Hey Joongie.” Seonghwa greets Hongjoong, leaning down to kiss his cheek before saying hi to Mingi.

“How are you guys?” He asks while sitting down.

“Good.” “Slightly hungover.” Seonghwa snorts at Mingi’s comment. But his laughter stops when he sees the bandage on Mingi’s hand.

“Hey, what happened with your hand?” Mingi looks down at his hand.

“I think I cut it on something, but I don’t really remember.”

“Huh.” Seonghwa hums for a moment before his eyes lighten up.

“Mingi, do you remember anything from your party?”

“A little bit yeah, why?”

“Did you spend anytime with a girl there? She-“

“Angel?” Mingi asks, wide eyed. He was planning to ask Hongjoong about her before they left.

“She was dressed as an Angel yes!” Seonghwa claps his hands in joy, “I’m so smart, I thought this would take longer to figure out.”

“Ohh.” Hongjoong says, just clueing in, “Mingi was the guy Y/N watched over at the party? Man, you didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t know who she was! I was gonna ask you if you knew a girl dressed as an angel.”

“Small world.” Seonghwa smiles, “She said you asked her out, is that true?”

“I really don’t know, sorry Hwa.” Mingi runs a hand through his hair, “But I’d love to actually meet her, thank her in person at least. Could you give me her number?” Seonghwa shakes his head.

“No, she’d be upset if I did that.” Patting the table, Seonghwa thinks, “but… if you did happen to run into her outside class, well that would be fate.”

“Would you?”

“I’ll text you her next class right now.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You’d be good together.”

“What?”

“Let’s go Hwa, bye Mingi.” Hongjoong and Seonghwa leave, and Mingi choses to ignore Seonghwa’s comment.

He leaves the café and starts walking back to his place. The street he’s on has a ton of little shops and bakeries, so he window shops a little as he makes his way. The a sight makes him stop. There in the window, is a display case of different candy apples. A picture plays in his mind, of a pretty girl in an Angel costume eating the candied fruit in his kitchen. His phone buzzes from his pocket, and he pulls it out and sees a text from Seonghwa. He texted the younger the building, classroom number, as well as the start and end times.

Are you sure she won’t mind?

It’s fine! Tell her I sent you

I’m glad I can blame you

Great. Have fun ;)

Mingi looks at the display case again, before stepping inside.

I hate kinesiology Y/N thinks as she steps out of her classroom. She makes her way out of the building, weaving through the crowd of people. When she’s outside, just a few meters away from the building door, she feels someone tap her shoulder. Turning around, she sees a sight she wasn’t expecting to see so soon.

“Mingi?”

“Hi Angel.” Mingi grins with a small blush on his face, one hand held behind his back.

“Isn’t this a surprise.” Y/N can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, um, I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of me the other night. You didn’t have to.” Y/N shakes her head, waving a hand in the air.

“No problem. I’m surprised you remember me.” Mingi blushes more, and shifts his feet.

“Well, I kinda didn’t. But I saw your note and remembered a girl dressed as an angel, but not what you looked like.”

“Hm.” Y/N hums, and crosses her arms, shifting her weight to her right leg, “Disappointed?”

“God no.” Mingi answers immediately, “You’re pretty.”

“You said that.”

“Did I?”

“Multiple times. Thank you. How do you know who I am though? If you didn’t know what I looked like.” Mingi looks a little flustered and avoids eye contact.

“I ran into Seonghwa and he figured that you were the one who took care of me because of, well, this.” He lifts his own bandaged hand, “He told me your name and that you were here and that your class would be ending around this time so I came by to see if I could catch you. And I knew I would recognize you once I saw you. Even without the wings.” He spoke so fast, Y/N barely caught all of his words.

“I see. How’s the hand?”

“Good, uh, I was wondering what you meant, by your note?”

“The kiss comment?” Y/N laughs uncomfortably, pulling at the ends of her hair, “Well, um, you did ask me to kiss your hand better…”

“And?”

“You- don’t be upset please- you did kiss me. Twice.” Mingi looks ready to combust from the embarrassment he’s feeling.

“I did? Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You were-“

“Please don’t say I was drunk. That’s no fucking excuse.” Y/N smiles softly.

“Fine. I forgive you.” Mingi laughs.

“You shouldn’t give in so easily. Here.” He pulls the box from behind his back and presents the caramel apple to her.

“For you.” He tells her, watching as the girl gives him an expression of pure joy.

“You-“ Y/N starts, taking the boxed caramel apple from Mingi’s hand, “Are the sweetest.” It seems that Mingi remembered a little more than she thought.

“Seonghwa said that I apparently asked you out.” Y/N nods in agreement, Mingi takes a deep breath, “I wanted to let you know that the question is still open, I’d love to go out with you.” Silence is all he gets in response. He feels a sense of dread in his stomach, but that soon leaves when he actually looks at the girl to see that she looks… flustered?

“Really? Um, yeah that- that would be nice.”

“And…” Mingi takes a breath, stepping closer to the girl. He slowly lifts his hand and rests it in the nape of her neck.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could I get a little reminder of what I forgot?” Blood rushes to Y/N’s ears and her heart beats faster. She brings her hands to his shoulders, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt.

“I suppose I can.” Mingi leans down and brings his face close to the girl. Before his lips can meet hers though, Y/N covers his mouth with her hand, “Not now.” Mingi grabs her wrist and kisses the palm of her hand.

“After an actual date.” Where I don’t witness you throw up. She doesn’t say that know. She doesn’t want to embarrass him too much just yet. With a quick motion of his wrist, Mingi links their hands and brings them down.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“On a date. Duh.” Y/N grins.

“Aw, our first, completely sober date!”

“I’m never drinking that much again.”

When Halloween rolled around the next year, Mingi did, in fact, drink that much again. It’s okay though, he still had an angel to take care of him.

214 notes · View notes

hxltic · 7 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓… 𝑴𝑰𝒀𝑨 𝑨𝑻𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑼

Genre: smut

Warning: car sex, mild alcohol mention, fem reader, degradation + praise, pet names: sugar, sweetheart, etc, creampie, birth control

Synopsis: You have been on Atsumu’s ass about he and his brother’s country accent for the longest, so when it comes back around to bite you back on Halloween, you are not ready for it.

A Halloween party!! You’re not sure how it came up in conversation when picking couples’ costumes: police, a Princess and Prince, a scary movie duo; all you know is that ��Tsumu roared his engine from outside to inform you of his presence while you were rushingly retrieving your perfume.

You had an idea of what he was wearing since you two were supposed to be matching, but he bought you a (super cute) pair of embroidered boots and guided your outfit from afar. Like a personal designer. The shoes with a slight heel on them clacked down your front door steps in the cold night, the brisk air bit at your skin, your breasts rebounded in the low-buttoned flannel, and a holster connected to your ripped jean shorts. The only correct way to style your hair was braided pigtails (even though you are positive this isn’t how someone who actually handles animals would dress) and owning a huge belt to compliment your gorgeous figure even more.

Once you reach the car, ‘Tsumu came around from his side to open your door for you.

Your jaw went slack.

The blonde’s own button down was opened almost farther than yours to reveal his carved chest but a thick belt cut it off. A brown coat to match was being removed from the outfit, one that paired with the folded hat atop his head that left some of his hair to peek out. The dark jeans heavily covered his boots—with an exception for the ends— and were even slightly tainted. The shoes look worn. Has he always had this? Was your boyfriend a country American hottie with an accent and you had no idea? After pulling his long arms out of the garment, he slung it over your shoulders.

“Pick yer jaw up ‘n keep those pretty feet movin’ sweetheart, I know it’s cold.”

He patted your ass twice as if you were a fucking horse instructed to trot, and the worst part was, you obliged and sat in the car with no complaint.

Your eyes trailed his body and face the whole ride. The battery on your phone was slowly rising with it being on the charger, so with nothing to do, it was easy to adore the man to your side before a large, gentle hand was placed on your thigh.

He keeps his eyes on the road before speaking, “There somethin’ on my face?”

You shook your head, “No,” and gazed outside the window until your destination was reached. The last thing you’d do is fuel his ego.

————•————

The liquor in your hand led you around the party, half conscious. You knew it was dangerous—not only drinking—but splitting with Tsumu to get it. Though, you wouldn’t quite say you were in danger, you knew everyone here at least a little bit and was able to pinpoint who was who; but there was a specifically familiar face that caught your attention.

Osamu curled around a stumbling woman once he caught your eye and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the other hand occupied by a drink as well.

“There y’are, what’s the famous _____ up to? Where’s ma brother?”

You took a sip as he mindlessly walked you around to catch up; you hadn’t been doing anything much, and you had no idea where your boyfriend was.

Speak of the devil, the two of you hit a corner and Tsumu was atop the marble kitchen counter conversing with Sakusa. He reverted his gaze to you, to Osamu, back to you, and cringed a little. It was like a face of disgust with a fake laugh at the end. You were sober enough to see it, but drunk enough for it to piss you off for the rest of the night.

————•————

You turn the knob to the radio up. Whether you were trying to distract yourself from the irritation bubbling in your throat or just ease your mind in general, Atsumu picked up on it. “Fake it till you make it” they’d say, except that you could only hide your emotions to an extent that the liquor would allow.

Having not payed attention to your surroundings, when Atsumu pulled into a scarce parking lot it caught you off guard. His large hand rotated along the leather until he shifted the stick to park, and with a click he locks the doors. If it wasn’t him you’d have assumed you were being kidnapped.

He twists to you, “Kay, what’s the problem?”

“Nuthin partner,” you exclaim with sarcasm dripping off your words. Even if it was a minor look that shouldn’t have bothered you, it did because of the alcohol. And him asking that (with no type of attitude or invalidating tone as if he had no idea) irritated you even more.

His gaze slides back to the windshield while he attempts to hide a growing smirk. It darts back to you in amusement.

“Ya wanna play that way? Alright sweetness.”

He presses down on a glowing button connected to his door that reclines his seat. You only look at him intently as he mimics you with crossed arms, shuffling a bit to flaunt himself getting comfortable before his eyes close.

You stare angrily at him. As angry as you could get when he rests the large cowboy hat over his face. Fuck, he was hot with the thick belt on display and the manspread he boasted.

“What the hell are you doing?” You deadpan anyway.

“Waitin ‘till ya decide to drop the attitude ‘n tell me what’s the matter,” he sighs back.

“Fine, whatever.”

You fall back harshly to the seat and revert your attention to nothing in the windshield. Out of pure spite you’d sit here and count the blades of grass. Which this Atsumu knew, but he’d rather have this than drive you home angry at him.

About five minutes of your hiatus pass. You’ve calmed a bit but not by much, and one of you has to give in. You turn to Atsumu’s resting figure and take a deep breath, asking, “Why did you look at me like that?” You were unsure if he was asleep or not.

“Like what? When?” He inquires. His voice is slightly muffled by the hat atop his face.

“I don’t know. You like, cringed at me or something.” Your shoulders hunched up in emphasis, “At the party when I walked in.”

It was silence, then he removed the hat from his face to reposition it on his head and sit upright. He turns to you over the console.

“You know I’d never look at ya like that.”

You just gazed at him incredulously. He came in closer. “If anything, you looked too damn good for ma brother’s grubby hands all on ya.”

Ohhh.

You were too stricken to realize how his arm being thrown over you looked having just split apart at the party. Or a slightly tipsy Osamu leading you around, the twin of your boyfriend.

“That’s what it was? You were jealous?” You quipped. This caught his attention.

His jaw ticked, and even though he knows the answer to the question, he’ll refuse to admit it. He hates that word.

Jealous. Jealous of what? He’s the recognized setter. He’s the one with fans in his dm’s (because Osamu ignores his). And he’s the one with you. “What is there to be jealous of?” he’d question himself and his sanity all the time. Hell, he was even born first.

And he wishes to believe that all the time, except that only one of the twins has dyed blonde hair. It sells him out. The urge to be separated— different, is a drive he’s had since he was a child.

Seeing someone with such importance to him in too close of presence to that one person he wanted to be different from fucked him up.

“Sure, but I wouldn’t say jealous.”

You nibbled the inside of your lip and raised a brow, “What would you say?”

“Hmm… irritated, maybe? I know how ya feel about me. It’s sure as hell not how you feel about him.”

“Do you really?” You teased him. “Do you know how I really feel about him?”

“Do I?” He parrots as a grunt. The atmosphere switches to sexual tension in the second it takes for his big brown eyes to scan you as if he was searching for any hint of truth in your words, eventually not finding any but the thought alone shoving him over the edge.

You’re not sure if you were feeling it before, or if it’s the liquor, but that’s how you climbed over the console and into his seat.

His hands were large enough to cover the span of your bottom, large enough to cup whatever he saw fit in those embedded bootcut jeans you’d been wearing all night, and strong enough to guide your hips onto him roughly.

He couldn’t even take his eyes from them. It was so bad that he felt like a 13 year-old again. But he couldn’t help it; not when you filled out the jeans better than the lady on the website and your ass practically waved goodbye at him each time you would turn. A deep groan falls from him at the memory.

His pinkish lips attach to the supple skin at your neck and redden until he sees fit. You tilt as he kisses the spot like he was relaxing it, then more wet ones trail downwards to the swell of your breasts. You arch upwards and away from him.

Your soft moans mixed with his deep ones cloud your vision. He admires you, copying your movements and leaning back to slowly grind you against himself. There was a tent growing in his jeans at the slot located beneath you.

The loud sound of a honk causes you to physically jolt on top of him and his eyes to find yours. Your back was pressed against the wheel.

It didn’t deter the rush of adrenaline flowing through your bloodstream, so you throw the hand that isn’t pressed against the cool window to your chest in shock.

“Holy shit,” you breathe— half a moan and half surprise. He just chuckles. No slick comment, no anything. You were going to say something else comedic about what happened and how badly of timing it was, but that darkness was already in his eyes and it seemed that he’d forgotten about the situation completely. Or if he hadn’t, he had priorities.

You come forward onto him and rotate your hips along the erection below you to the rhythm he set. You catch the sound that falls from his lips and notice the way his eyebrows deepen and eyes close.

Skipping the softness and diving into territory you knew like the back of your hand, it was so passionate, and everything was so sultry. You could feel the moment heating when you begin to feel his tongue on yours, his head leaning to accommodate for the space lost in your mouth, and his position shifting with you on top because it was more than he could handle to have you sitting directly on top of his strained length.

You pull off, mainly for air, but also to taunt him: “Sometimes, I imagine you with a different hair color. A warm grey, maybe?”

Instead of what you thought he’d say, something about how your anger earlier stemmed from sexual frustration, or an insult about how wet your pussy was for him instead of his brother, his eyes don’t even open. The only confirmation that he heard it was the furrow of his brows and the deep groan. He leans in again immediately to feel you on him and it seems he has dismissed the comment completely.

His breathlessness shows itself to you, asking for you to give him strength, oxygen, or whatever else it was that he needed to live. His lips are puffy and his eyelashes are long.

You intake his bottom lip between your teeth while your fingertips graze his fallen hair, and you cherish the sound he makes when it plops back into place. Your hands rotate to his jaw so your head can turn comfortably into his mouth.

You feel yourself slowly falling forward, but it’s just Atsumu descending to lay flat on his back. The hat ultimately proves this difficult so you take it upon yourself to remove it and rest it on the console.

Then you crawl off him, turn to face the steering wheel, and begin to unbuckle the large accessory and shimmy your small shorts down. The tight space complicates things, but Tsumu doesn’t mind.

When you attempt to twist back to your lover, he grabs your hips firmly, forcing you to stay with your back to him. You glance over your shoulder confused.

He stares back with a smug expression, eyes low and amused at what he’s about to say next.

“Don’t think I’ll forget about yer little comment.”

You think for a moment to pinpoint which one. “Keep yer back to me so you can imagine him all ya want. Maybe you’d prefer it if you were bouncing on his cock instead.”

Your eyes blow wide.

Never in a million years did he think he would become comfortable enough with the topic of jealousy to use it against you like this. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to your senses and beg for who’s right in front of (behind) you. There’s no way to lose here, considering he’s 100% secure with your love for him.

“Tsumu you know I didn’t-”

“Ah ah, you’ve made yer choice.”

As punishment, he crosses his arms, making it clear he wouldn’t be touching you. He was essentially allowing you to use him to imagine your supposed attraction to someone else. His twin.

Slowly, you reach behind yourself and feel around for the zipper of his jeans. The cool metal reaches your fingers.

He does lift his hips to push the jeans to his mid-thigh once you get it down, efficaciously leaving his length thick and tall between your fingers. The pads of your fingertips soothe up and down his skin when you begin to stroke him.

He makes it a point to ensure his sounds of pleasure are low. Since you teased him about Osamu, you can’t back out now, and it’s his job to make sure it never happens again.

If you were imagining anything, it was Atsumu’s twisted up face of pleasure. So, instead of going through the trouble of completely removing them, you push your panties to the side and hover above his red tip. And then you’re sinking, sucking him in, bringing him to lean on his elbows for support so he can see. You manage, “that feels good, Tsumu.”

“Osamu,” he rectifies sternly.

He knows what you’re doing. You can’t butter him up. With nothing but your own wetness, it is a long journey to reach the bottom; once you are, despite being filled all the same, the emotions aren’t right.

The words should have never left your mouth in the first place. Little did you know, his twin brother’s name grinded through Atsumu’s teeth when even he himself said it, triggering a train reaction that tightens his fists at his sides. There’s a distant frown on his face, a far contrast to what you’re imagining it is.

Hopefully helping to reverse your damage, your palms stretch around his knees, aiding to push you to drag your walls all the way up until your thighs clench. It erupts a curse out of him, but that’s all you get.

“Please touch me, Tsumu,” and your hands go back to search for his, and you find them, to place around your hips. You’re slightly breathless. “I was just messing around.”

The muscles tense before retracting back to where they were previously, earning a grunt from you. The newfound irritation drops you back down thigh-to-thigh. There was a slight burn, but nothing you couldn’t handle and nothing compared to the one in your chest.

“You know it’s always been you—” back up you go, “—There hasn’t been a situation where I even, fuck, accidentally picked him.” And down again. The slap of skin only gets louder and louder each time. He’s listening, you think.

“Please, I miss f-feeling you. You’re the only one I want.” Your ass jiggles with impact now that you’ve set a pace for yourself. But even then he ignores you and just watches the scene unfolding in front of him, calculating when you’d get tired.

He knows you’ll go until you can’t move and he doesn’t think you’ve ever gone this consistent pace before. You’ll run out of gas in due time.

Meanwhile, it takes a lot to maintain his composure when you’re bouncing in front of him. The pigtails practically ask for his hands to be wrapped around the ends, the length of your back is on display, and your thighs are more defined with your “exercise.” There’s a line of translucent white that connects you and thickens every time you come down. He can only imagine your tits if they were let from the confines of your top.

He’s trying to get you to crack, and you’re trying him, but only one can come out victorious. He concludes it’s him when a long grunt carries in the car and you start to slow right as the heat gathers in your tummy.

“Ugh, Atsumu…” you halt momentarily to correct your hands on his knees, “P-Please, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” And he can hear the pout in your voice. He doesn’t even want to think about your upturned eyebrows. Frankly, if he does, he may explode on the spot.

“Are ya really?” He tests. You’re happy just to hear his response.

“Yes.”

You drop your head forward, catching your breath and resulting to gyrating your hips along his waist. None of it matters in the end because you finally feel him rip your pigtail back.

In no more than a few seconds you’re bouncing again, both of his hands around your waist to help navigate your vertical movements. A fresh circuit brings power to your legs especially now that you’re doing less than half the work.

The moans and grunts are music to his ears. He can feel the car shift below him even more when he slams you down onto his thighs creating a red tint to the skin there, and it worsens when he gets to thrusting upwards, cutting you off halfway and finding deeper. His tip prods at your g-spot, right up against your front walls.

You don’t get to tell him. Releasing an animalistic noise and tightening up in the span of a second, the suddenness hits you hard. You squeeze his shaft as if milking him dry and your skin glistens with sweat. He loves watching you chase your high like he isn’t even there, but not more than when he drills into your cunt until you can’t take it. Maybe he should turn the air on in here.

When you’re done and come back to earth, you see a mix of your wetness dribbling down the side of him as your breaths feel like ten pound weights. You try again to turn around. He lets you, guiding the shift of your spin around on his tip and the process of finding somewhere to put your feet. You straddle him completely with them to the side of his hips.

You’re shocked when he kisses you, not gently but not as rough, bringing a hard hand down to your ass. Like he forgave you, but not quite.

“Think you can ride one more out f’me?” He caresses your legs.

You think about it. Honestly, your first reply is no, but there’s no better feeling than watching his facial expressions as you do it, and you didn’t get that luxury the last time. Your body may begin to run on its lactic acid because your legs are still trembling from the last orgasm; however, if it meant the sight, then you’d go until you collapsed. “Yes,” you breathe out.

And then you rise up to your toes with the little space you have, determined. With a slow drop and the slide back up, you moan together. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He sends another harsh slap to your cheek just to soothe it out when he’s done.

You watch his eyes flicker closed. His face is red with arousal and his chest was trying to contain the air about to pop out of his lungs. He was cursing under his breath some more.

You keep bouncing and lean forward over him, placing both hands on his cheeks while trying to keep your balance. At the feeling of your soft touch, his eyes blink open, eyebrows still sunken and the darkness clouding his vision.

“Look at me,” you command, hitting his balls every time you come down.

And he does just that, searching either eye above him, a toothy smile spreading across his face with his tired eyes. He laughs almost like it hurts (it does. One wrong move and there’ll be white painting your insides).

You laugh breathlessly too when his hand starts to move. Shifting your focus and following it, he grasps the folded top of the discarded cowboy hat to reach it up over your head. He presses down so it fits snugly.

Over the slapping, you hear him grunt: “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy. Now yer my real cowgirl, yeah?”

Your head drops into his neck, as far as the hat would let you go. “You’re so annoying.” And despite the seemingly cruel words, you suddenly feel the twist in your tummy, tightening around him from trying to stop it coming so fast. A non-convincing, pathetic whimper falls from your lips.

“Yer still fuckin’ yerself on my cock though, aren’t you sugar?”

It may sound strained, but it’s still the aggravating, cocky Atsumu you knew underneath. “Sit up,” he demands.

You do, feeling no self-consciousness as your entire body and spread legs are on display for him with the exception of your chest. On that note, he undoes the buttons faster than you’ve ever seen. Your hands propel you since being placed on your knees when the flannel falls past your shoulders, leaving the regular black bra underneath for him to push past.

He loved it. You’re like a painting, ruined for him, but that’s what makes it art right? The emotion behind it?

“Tsumu, ’m g-gonna come.”

There’s a million things going through his head: that he’s about to as well; that when you get home, he’s coming in right behind you; that your breasts look so pretty bouncing in front of him like the rest of you; but in your head, there’s one thing only. The pressure built that is almost at its peak. “Ya think Osamu knows how to play witcha like this? How to fuck ya like this?”

You shake your head no. He looks so determined watching you, it doesn’t shock you when he hastily raises upright and wraps a hand around your breast. His thumb continuously rolls over your nipple. “My name is the only one you’ll scream, ever. Ain’t that right?”

You don’t see the other that has crept up between your open legs, now pinching and prodding at your clit. Weakly, you nod yes.

“What was that?”

“Yes! F-Fuck yes.”

He looks up at you in your eyes, like he’s trying to reach the deepest part of you with his next words. “Let me see you.”

Your hands relocate to his neck desperately. One thing you can say about Atsumu during sex, he’s extremely vocal. And isn’t afraid to say anything. “I’m—”

“—Come all over me, baby, ya earned it. I’ll fuck this pretty pussy just how ya like when we get home.”

The crazy part is, it wasn’t even the encouragement that sent you over the edge. No, it was when both his hands locked around your hips, dragged you all the way down until you were against his pelvis, then rocked you back and forth, rubbing right into your sensitive nerves with the depth you couldn’t reach before and right along your clit. You threw your head back, crying his name.

It’s a chain reaction because all of his muscles tighten simultaneously, as well as his balls, and his cock twitches strong inside of you. You moan again at the feeling of his cum spreading through you. “Fuck.”

He’s still in a state of bliss when you sink into him, spurting out more than you think he ever has. It fills you up full, but you don’t move. You both stay there for a moment, catching your breaths.

The window is fully fogged over so you draw a little heart.

“Don’t move,” he pleads. “It’s worse fer you than it is fer me.”

You wiggle a bit, feeling everything else move inside. You see what he means. “We have to get up set some point before we fall asleep,” you return. There’s just a groan back.

Reaching over into the glove department, you retrieve some takeout napkins that have piled up over the months. You mentally prepare yourself to move.

It’s not enough because you both moan loudly when you raise up, only waiting a moment before white comes falling out of you in heaps onto his angry red, engorged cock. “Shit,” he grins tiredly. “That’s a lot.”

You only look at him. “You’re gonna override my birth control, dipshit.”

He adds languidly, “Oh well. Take 2 to cancel it out this time? Maybe?”

That’s not how it works.

©️ hxltic