#the smiling friend design was just on a whim I didn’t really think about it I thought it was just so silly omg 😭✨✨

[jaxieus]

More Johan prompts!

Dead 😾😾

As The Joker

Smiling friend (non request)

Johan things from twitter

Punk/emo Johan and eating a burger

Johan playing the ps2

[wakeup01]

A Matching Pair

Goddammit. Why does he always have to argue about it. Can’t he ever put himself in my shoes and try and be more understanding.” I mumble to myself as my boyfriend fades out of sight down the empty train car. I sigh and stare out the window of the train, listening to the world outside shudder past.

“This space free?” Comes an excited voice, I look up to see a fit young guy casually drop onto the seat opposite me. He looked no older than 22 and was outfitted for some kind of sports game, with a designer tracksuit sagging off his hips, a red jersey that pressed against his lean stomach and a glossy puffer jacket.

“Uhhh…not really.” I remark, side-eying his trendy permed hair, perfectly styled and faded. I had never really understood the appeal of…‘fuckboys’; rich but devoid of personality - aside from the prepackaged one they adopt. In this case even I had to admit that he was rather attractive, in a blunt, dumb ‘grammer is for losers’ sort of way. There was a casual air of confidence in the way he carried himself, narcissistic? Sure, but maybe a little ego didn’t hurt, especially in the bedroom.

Shame he obviously wouldn’t be a sub - he’d look nice around my cock, although I can picture my boyfriend tripping over himself to placate his every whim. The perks of this ‘open relationship’ we had seemed increasingly one sided. Ugh. I’m quickly reminded of our argument, and my indignation wins out over my misguided lust.

“Mate, you look proper mad.” He chuckles, kicking off his trainers. He stretches out his legs and rests them on the seat next to mine.

“Name’s Dominic and I’m not….mad.” My voice trails off.

“Uh oh. Who is she then blud?” He gestures at me with his hands, rattling the horde of bracelets that buried his wrists.

“He.”

“Pftt. I should ‘av guessed. It’s all the same to me. I’m Trev ‘btw’. You off to the gay convention?” There’s a wry smile that is hard to be angry at, in fact I feel strangely comfortable with him. He seemed like a good listener.

“Funny, but yes. Meeting our friend Nate there.” I cross my arms in a futile attempt to appear more dominant.

“Wait, they have those now?” My eyes squint at him. “Just fucking with you. I got a game the next town over. I’m a player.”

“Wow, you don’t say.”

“Maybe you’ve seen me play on the tele eh?” He puts on a face and flashes his shiny white teeth proudly.

“Sure…” He was in a professional team? Like I’d know.

“So spill, what’s the issue with yuh ‘boy’? His ‘bussy’ too small?” My mouth begins to move before I really get the chance to think about what I’m saying, or why I’m telling him at all.

“Ugh. He just never tries to see things from my perspective, he always expects me to play the ‘top’. About everything. And I don’t share his weird kinks.”

“TMI. Oh. You’re the top? And your name is Dom? ‘Lolz’. Is your boy called SUBastian?” He laughs mischievously. His brazen use of text speech was strangely endearing, something I thought impossible.

“Dominic. And no, his name’s Addy.” I correct, flatly.

“Uh huh. Yeah, and have you tried the same? See things from Addy’s point of view. Find equal ground right. Maybe I can help. It’s like when there’s a disagreement in our footy team.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same thing…”

“Should give it a try Dom, see how it feels to be the sub. It can be fun to let someone else take charge. Easy too when you don’t overthink it. Go on, just lay back and relax.” Yes, I’m sure this will solve all our problems. I humour him anyway, resting my back against the seat’s cushion. Ten seconds pass in silence, just the hum of the train carriage throbbing rhythmically.

“This is stupid-“

“Shush.” Trev stares at me intently, trapping my eyes into his own. I don’t think to look away, why would I. He continues talking, I hear the words floating past me but don’t register what they are. It feels like minutes until his fingers snap in front of his face, and the spell is broken. He just smiles and waits expectantly for me to reply. His legs move from the seat next to me and I follow their movement.

“I—I guess.” I stutter, unsure of what I’m replying to, feeling slightly dizzy, like waking from a dream. For some reason my eyes seem drawn to his feet, now resting on the edge of my own seat, fidgeting between my thighs. I didn’t notice that they were sockless before… or that they were so big.

“Deeper.” He snaps his fingers again. My eyes are feeling so heavy, it’s becoming harder to keep them open. “Picture your boy sitting in your place. See it in your head.” I think about him, see his dreamy smile, like the one growing on my face. “So easy.” Trev repeats, my head nodding absently to his words. He adjusts and pushes his feet against my groin. Hmmf. I should tell him to stop. To stop…

“Uhh.” The dull sound leaves my lips instead of the words I wanted, the rubbing sensation fraying the edges of my thoughts.

Trev’s fingers fiddle at his pockets. He pulls out a vape stick and blows a huge bubblegum flavoured cloud of smoke into my face. The fumes flow through my open mouth and circle my head. His hands appear to be moving in slow motion, like everything was suddenly at half speed.

“Being in charge is exhausting huh. Much better to just relax and follow along, like your boyfriend would.” Yeah, he would probably do whatever this guy asked him to.

“I bet he’d rub my feet If I told him to.”

“Yeah.” I agree, wrapping my hands around Trev’s chunky feet - he definitely would. I run my fingers up and down his sole, picturing my boyfriend in this situation.

“Eyes up here fam.”

*snap*

I look back up at him, falling into his stare once more, entranced. My hands continue to massage him, passing over the curves and arches of his large feet. The shame of doing this in a public place completely lost on me. “Good foot boy.” I fail to hold back a moan at the validation. Is this what it feels like? It feels…nice, good.

I sense my body start to slowly lean forward of its own volition. Trev loudly exhales, his lips pursing. Another dose of bubblegum mist fogs my view. “What else would your boy do?”

“Don’t know…”

“Bet he’d love to sniff my lush feet hm?”

Probably, I think. He was way more kinky than me about such things. This guy’s feet were quite ripe after all, maybe if I got a bit closer…no—no what am I doing? I begin to pull back when his intense eyes narrow at me.

“It’s okay. I can see you want to take a whiff too. Boy.” His inflection changed on the last word. There was something about the way he said it. Powerful.

“My—my boyfriend will be-“ My voice cracks.

“Put your fucking nose here. And sniff my cheesy feet.” He orders, accentuating each word, dropping all pretence - his finger snapping and pointing down.

It’s like a switch being pressed in my head. The words cut like a knife right through any lingering hesitation. My face lowers and inhales deeply, sucking up his harsh scent.

“Yeah.” I mumble from behind his feet in a daze.

“Yeah what?”

*snap snap*

“Yes sir.” I don’t know why I said it, it just slipped from my lips and then it was too late to take it back. Too late to stop, as my face leans down to his foot like a magnet. Too late to pretend I didn’t want a sniff, my nostrils breathing the thick musky air.

“A good start boy.” I tentatively take a couple more whiffs, a part of me still attempting to hold back, feeling self aware. He rolls his eyes and shoves his feet forcefully into my face, my nose pushed snugly between his big toe. His stench shrouds my head like a cloud. The concept of ��disgusting’ faded to nothingness.

“Salt and vinegar flavour, your fav.” Trev asserts. It became true the moment the words left his lips. Salty and eye watering. My favourite. My cock liked it too apparently.

“You look so much better under me, worshiping me - where you belong. Keep going.” And I did. Breathing deeply, in and out. In and out. The heat from his foot radiates outwards, travelling down my body, seeping into my skin. “Wouldn’t your boy agree to be at my feet at all times If that’s what I wanted?” He—I would. I want nothing else.

“Of course sir.” I say, unaware that the words would seal my fate.

Something is changing. A shift in weight. My whole body starts to feel lighter, filling with air. My skin itches, a rash forming across it’s surface - bleaching every inch an even, clean white. The rash crawls down my chest, flattening my modest set of abs, leaving everything it touches incredibly soft, absorbent and flexible. Tiny strands of fuzzy cotton fabric poke out from each pore; the changes showed no sign of stopping.

Everything is happening all at once, alarms try and go off in my brain but it’s preoccupied swimming in a musky drunken stupor. My feet seem to leave the floor as my form inexplicably shrinks, the length of my arms folding inwards as my body simplifies.

“Look at you bruv. You were easy as fuck.” I gaze up at him, his smug face towering over me, looking so far away. A puff of vape smoke floats down towards me, particles dissolving on my cushioned skin. The sweet aroma mixes with the smell of his sour feet. “Just one look into my eyes and you were done. Get socked bro.”

Trev started to appear bigger and bigger, his feet dwarfing my new size, now taking up my whole view. It was like my essence was being pulled around his foot. My mouth opens and his toes slip effortlessly inside, stretching me out and making themselves at home. The rest of his foot follows, his ankle resting at my opening. It sets off my gag reflex momentarily, before feeling perfectly natural, like I was tailor made for his foot.

“Sorry bud, they’re a size 13.”

The taste of his potent sole explodes into me. I’m violently shaken out of my trance-like haze, the world around me speeds up. I try and desperately pull away, lucidity returning like a slap to the face. Why am I on the floor? Why is his foot in my mouth?! Oh shit oh shit!

“Get socked!” Trev yells enthusiastically. “Get fucking socked!”

Control is slipping away. My skin pulls taut around his foot, the fabric digging between his toes. It feels as though every part of me is pressed against him, his warmth surrounding me. My new shape settles into place, defined by his smooth curves.

I can’t move my ‘body’ at all, but all my senses still persist…somehow. My blurry vision clears, a sudden shift in view makes me disoriented. It’s as if I have a pov of the room from the bottom of Trev’s foot, he lowers it to the floor and my worldview erratically drops to carpet level before going dark. The material of the carpet brushes against me, the strange sensation is embarrassingly pleasing; bringing attention to the absence of my cock. Relief now seemed impossible.

“Socked. Man, I love that initial freshness. Tbh, it makes the inevitable even more fun.”

He pushes the weight of his foot into me, his sweaty soles sticking to my tight fabric body. It feels humiliating to be literally stuck on the ground. His stench clings to me, soaking me in his foot musk. The imprint of his toes yellowing my surface. It’s like having his foot down my throat, perpetually swallowing his mind numbing sweat.

“Mmm that’s good, you hang so tightly. A perfect fit. Hope you like sucking on my rank fucking toes. Cuz now you’re just my stinky ripe sock. Fucking idiot. Can’t wait to get you worn in.”

That’s not possible, I can’t be a sock…it defies logic. This is a nightmare I’m about to wake up from, any second now…any second…

He pulls at me and stretches my ribbed opening up and over his tracksuit, stuffing the silky material into me.

“So much more… pliable.” Trev wiggles his toes and my body conforms to it’s every movement, lodging in between each one. I try and desperately struggle, do something. I manage to achieve a light wriggle that only helps pull myself tighter against his skin.

Trev lifts his foot and points it towards the window, the dark night air rushing past outside. A clear reflection echoes back. I stare at it in disbelief, wanting to blink the reality from my eyes. A caricature of my shocked face is crudely printed on the underside of the sock - trapped frozen in time, with the word ‘SNIFF’ sewn into the fabric. The material was already beginning to discolour. Logic or not, That’s all I am now - a cheap white sock. His sock. An object.

“Basic as fuck boy makes basic as fuck sock. Lit.” He points out, smirking in the reflection while he checks out his new kit. Trev puts his feet back up on the seat, letting me watch the empty space where I had been sitting - back when I was more than just his property.

“Enjoy the view, while you can cheesy. You’re going to spend most of your time staring at the floor, or the inside of my fumigated sneaker.” What joy. I hadn’t even thought about that, about what comes next. Surely he didn’t plan to keep me like this? “Hmm. I think the name Dominic is a bit too fancy for you now, how about…sock. Simple, to the point.” Trev steps me back against the ground, his heel slightly raised. “Suits you, don’t you think sock?”

Light footsteps thud from down the carriage, getting closer and closer. “Hey babe. I wanted to apologise, Nate thinks—who are you? Umm where’s my boyfriend?” Addy had returned, this was my chance.

I wanted to shout and cry out to him, to get his attention anyway possible. I conjured a barely audible rustle and then nothing. All it did was reinforce how small and subservient I now felt, forced to listen to my owner in silence.

“Oh he’s not gone far, cutie. Sit.”

I hear my boyfriend stammer from above. All it took was one compliment and he turned to putty. In most cases it was endearing, but right now I needed him to be anything but agreeable.

I feel the weight on me shift. I glide through the air again, Addy’s expression coming into view across from me, from us.

“He’s…” Addy looks me over curiously.

“Yep. He got socked.”

“Gosh. That’s…hot.” His cheeks blush.

WHAAT! You’ve got to be kidding me! Damn, why did he have to be so kinky when I need him to rescue me. I can recognise his horny face a mile away.

“Now it’s your turn. Look at my eyes.” Trev’s voice taking on a more serious tone. Addy’s eyes dart up, quickly becoming ensnared by Trev’s hypnotic gaze. No, please snap out of it. “Good, keep looking. Relax. Let me give you the deets. In a few minutes you’re gonna have the privilege of having my foot up your arse, sucking up my sweat as a thin piece of fabric like your bf. You’ll be my sock puppet, controlled completely by my foot. You can already feel my toes pushing at your mind. You want it. Say it.” Trev waves me back and forth, hypnotically.

“But…mmm,”

“Say it.”

*snap*

“I — I want to be your smelly sock puppet. Pleaseee Master.” He moans in a trance.

“Course you do.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Addy’s shorts were noticeably tenting, a wet spot forming at the tip. He was getting off on the idea! “Sock puppet. Look at your boy, read the word sewn into him. You know what to do.”

Addy’s head leans towards me, eclipsing my vision. His huge nose presses up against me, his eyes dilating. I can feel his wavering breath brush at my cotton skin. He did exactly what the sock - me, said to and sniffed. The hesitant whiffs quickly devolve into enthusiastic huffing.

“Babeee. Hmmf. You smell so niceee. Mmmm.”

“That’s an obedient sock sniffing sock puppet.” Trev assured him. ”Now onto the other one.” Addy moves away from my view, I can only see him shuffling at the edge of my narrow locked vision. “Ready to join him?”

“Yes masterrrr.” Addy’s voice slurs monotonously. “Enter me and take control. We’re both yours.” Like hell we are!

“I want you to lick this foot clean like a dirty dog before it becomes your new home.” I hear him start to slobber all over Trev. “Good puppet. Get socked.”

The sound of my boyfriend licking and moaning in heat continued for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing I could do but be suspended in the air like my owner deemed appropriate.

“It’s time to become a puppet. Turn around and spread that cute bubble butt. There we go, feel my foot enter your rear, filling you up, fucking your tiny brain. Ufff. Tight. Fuck. Let’s stretch you out, nice and wide. Ahh that’s better. Your hole clamping around my ankle. Yeah. Becoming soft and flexible. A sock puppet. A sweat guzzling, empty-headed, dirty filthy sock puppet.” I can just about see Addy’s head, craning back in pleasure as he’s foot fucked.

“Butt feels…Hnng my—my body…” Addy pants desperately.

“Now belongs to my fat fucking foot. SOCK. PUPPET.

“Pu—puppet.” Addy’s bobbing head pulls out of sight, compressing around the invader inside him.

“Sock puppet. Surrendered all free will. Sock puppet. Commanded by feet. What are you?”

“I’m a sock… a sock puppet. Mmmmf…I’m a soooommfff.”

His voice goes silent. I can only assume he’s turning into a perfect match for Trev’s other foot. The thought horrifies me, but also gets me a little excited. I glimpse a pristine white shape shudder next to me. Trev sits up and places both feet flat on the ground, in order to admire his new additions to the collection.

“Hell yeah. You two make the cutest pair. Glad I could help bring you ‘together’. And no more worries about disagreements ‘lmao’. Go on, kiss and make up.”

Trev bends his legs and points me at Addy’s new form, his lustful face captured on the socks sole; the word ‘LICK’ was immortalised above. I was for sniffing and he for licking, it made a bizarre kind of sense to my addled brain. He brings his feet together and rubs us both against each other, our ‘faces’ pressed closely. My mind blurs, the friction bringing searing white hot bliss. God it’s amazing. He was so soft! Please more. More! Babe. Don’t stop. Get socked!

Trev eventually pulls us apart, I watch the folds of Addy’s loose fabric pull taut, finalising his transformation. He made a cute sock, just like me. We were now on equal footing. Wait, what am I thinking? This is insane, I don’t want this! Was I stuck like this? Would it be really so bad? No, stop.

I realised that the smell was permeating my thoughts, twisting them. Knowing that didn’t change how good it felt, how good his touch felt, his musk.

“Don’t worry, when I go to replace you I’ll be sure to sell you on as a pair to one of my foot sluts. Let’s be honest, as socks go, you’re kinda ‘mid’ at best.” The comment did nothing to reassure me about turning back to human. “Man you gay nerds are so dumb, none of you can resist my scent. It’s like you want to be part of my fit. Even my sneaks gave more of a struggle than you two lovebirds. All I need now is some new undies to stretch over my ass and hug my fat dong and balls. Know anyone?” Trev pauses and then laughs to himself.

As each minute passed my mind became more subdued, it was relaxing, becoming content. The part that was angry, defiant, was shrinking. A bubbling happiness was slowly expanding within me. I did my best to push it back but with my senses overwhelmed, it was a seemingly losing battle. Addy was probably already loving every second of it.

“Let’s have some fun. Which one of you will make a good cum sock? Who am I kidding, you’ll both be great. But for now…”

He peels me free from his foot, holding me limply in the air. For a moment I feel incredibly empty, already missing his warmth. The disappointment is short lived; I’m quickly filled out as he pulls me over a stiff pole. His cock. His glorious thick shaft. I’m forced to swallow it whole, it’s tip poking at my edges.

With his hand around me he wanks me furiously, using me as sleeve. ‘Don’t enjoy it’, I shout internally. This sucks. This sucks! It’s hard to ignore the pleasure it brings the both of us. Oh god I’m being stretched out by him completely. It sucks. Sucks… this…mmm. Faster. Go faster! Fill me! Cum inside me, mark me as yours!

My sexy owners pumping reaches a crescendo, now with both hands thrusting me up and down. One final tug. A grunt. A twitch. Thick copious splooge unloads right into me, flooding my interior. His fuckboy seed is absorbed into me, my cotton body sucking up every drop. A dark patch spreads across me and crusts over as it dries. The bitter taste lingers, like the cum was sat on my tongue.

“Fuck me, that was sweet. But enough fun.” Trev pulls me off his dick and janks me back over his foot, his toes push against my cum stained dark spot, still damp.

Trev’s phone starts to ring with some loud trap song. “Trev. Yeah. Yeah mate. Course, you fucka. Be arriving soon. Mint, I got me some new gear too. Ace. Uh huh…K, chat tomorrow.”

What would have normally been inane babble to me made a concerning amount of sense, like his identity was somehow rubbing off on me.

He stands up, dragging something over to him with his other foot. I’m lifted high into the air, tauntingly hovering over his beat up shoe. I can’t help but look down at my future smelly prison. I don’t think my mind can take any more…

It didn’t help knowing that the sneaker was once a guy, now heavily used. It was like seeing a glimpse of my own fate. Mmmm.

“Let’s get you acquainted.”

I see the trainer hurtle towards me as I’m lowered to the floor. My edges slide effortlessly into the pungent confines of his sneaker, the thick stale air engulfing me. I’m pressed against the stained sole and squelch against it’s moist surface; the outline of his foot clearly indented into the material. My vision goes pitch black.

The stench is blasted at me from all sides. Fuck me. I don’t stand a chance against it, my mind is drowned beneath its waves. Sinking below as new, more simple desires emerge.

There’s a muffled sound of an announcement playing overhead. “Guess this is where we get off lads. I should probably warn you, me mates and I have a footie match tomorrow. And I don’t plan on removing you, after that I expect you won’t even want to be turned back. Not that I ever planned to. I’m sure you stinkheads don’t object? Sorted.”

I didn’t object, in fact, I— I think I was looking forward to it. My printed face would probably be completely yellow by the end of it, as it should. Mmm.

The weight of his foot lifts as I feel myself rise from the floor and then just as quickly I’m pushed back down to the ground. My boyfriend being subject to the same in tandem. A second later and it happens again and then again, each step the strength of his body squishes me against the shoes insole, which sticks to my surface. And each time, my brain is submerged in a pleasant sweaty haze, scattering whatever dim thoughts I had left. The weight flattening my mind to sodden mush. Rewarding me for fulfilling my role as his smelly, mindless sock, us both huffing at our owners beautiful addictive feet. Together.

“Maybe we should stop off at that gay convention first, see how many noses we can get pressed against you two while you get sucked dry. Plus, we could find that friend of yours to get wrapped around my big sweaty butt.”

Yeahhh…I bet Nate would make a perfect pair of fucking briefs.

[milfgyuu]

What’s My Age Again? Pairing: Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader Tags: 8.9k, F2L, Fluff, Crack, Humor, Smut 18+ Summary: Wen Junhui is sort of a dumbass but he’s your dumbass and you’ve come to realize that you like him just the way he is.

A/N: this was 100% inspired by me obliterating my vocal chords in the car to “What’s My Age Again?” by Blink182 - also, apologies in advance my friends....Jun was perfect for this story and i lowkey have temporary romantic feelings for him. shhhh. temporary.

Warnings: [Sexually Explicit Content 18+, MINORS DNI] the mc/reader is bisexual! language, adult themes throughout, protected sex (mxf), oral (f/m), face sitting (f), sixty-nine (spongebob voice), lots of gentle bullying between friends, threatening someone with peanuts. 

The light tapping of your finger nails almost matches time perfectly with the clock on the wall.

You’re on your regular night shift which could be worse, but as it stands, it’s just a whole lot of standing around and doing nothing. Yo-Nuts - as ridiculously stupid as the name sounded, was actually pretty popular…during daylight hours. 

A combination frozen yogurt and donut joint that stood alone on a quiet corner didn’t really attract much attention at night but the owner was one of those generational money kids who built the place on a whim after a night of the munchies for two very specific things that weren’t typically available at night.

Frozen yogurt and donuts. Yo-Nuts. Points for originality.

You also can’t complain because you’re working with your designated himbo, per usual. Jun is one of those really tall, really good looking nice boys who are especially…dumb but in a likeable sort of way. He’s goofy and a little immature but you enjoy his company. The long quiet nights are filled with laughter, conversation, and a lot of shit you probably shouldn’t be doing while getting paid - most of which Jun instigates.

“Hey,” you hear from somewhere behind you, “Psssssssst!”

You put your phone down and look over your shoulder to see Jun across the store holding a glazed donut up to his mouth, flicking his tongue through the middle suggestively, like an idiot.

You snort but pretend to be unimpressed and he, very briefly considers putting the donut back before tossing it in the trash. The boss let’s them eat whatever they want anyway so it’s not like anyone is truly caring for the inventory numbers. He comes up to the counter where you’re sort of monitoring the floor and leans down to whisper, “When do you think that guy will leave?”

“He’s gonna ask for more gummy bears, bet.”

Jun holds out his hand immediately. “If he leaves without asking, you have to lick my armpit.”

You give a look of thinly veiled disgust, “You’re so weird,” and then slap your hand into his, “If he does, I’m giving you a wedgie.”

Jun’s nose crinkles as he thinks about the last time he lost a bet with those odds. His ass crack was scarred for life, but Jun also had a plan this time around, “Deal.”

His efforts were amusing to say the least.

It was mostly just him sitting behind the counter trying to make direct eye contact with this poor man sitting alone in the shop, trying to enjoy his fro-yo in peace. Every time he looked up, Jun was somehow in his line of vision. Cleaning a table, examining a sprinkle, spritzing a window, hovering around floor like an absolute creeper. He got distracted though.

He’d found a dollar bill on the floor under a table and the guy got up and beelined it toward the counter. You painted on the friendliest smile when he asked for extra gummy bears and wished him well on his way out the door. For some reason he thought his treat was better tasting at home. Probably because he wasn’t being stalked while he ate it.

Jun caught the interaction just as the customer was leaving and he sulked across the entire empty shop, heavy feet stomping each step of the way. “How come you always win?”

Laughing, you circle the counter and Jun takes a careful step backwards. “Have mercy on my cheeks,” he begs, “I wouldn’t actually make you lick my pit had I won!”

“Yes, you would have,” you step closer and jump at him, making him squeal a bit, “Don’t drag out the torture. Bring that ass here boy.”

“What if I'm not wearing underwear?” He giggles, backing into a table and jumping out of the way, “Didja ever think about that?”

You back off and smirk, walking back toward the counter, “It’s fine…I don’t mind waiting and catching you off guard. Let you slip into a false sense of security before I destroy your ass.”

His face drops and he automatically clenches out of fear. “Ohhh,” he blows out with narrowed eyes, “You’re pure evil.”

You smile angelically and then tilt your neck sharply like a broken doll, and Jun shudders, very slowly and wearily joining you back behind the counter you’ve perched on. He offers a very tiny smile like a white flag and you grin, keeping him on his toes.

“Soooooooo,” he drawls out, “Pretty sure Rin is never calling me back…”

Rin is the super hot girl Jun’s been talking to lately and she is so far out of his league it’s insane. She drives a brand new Audi and owns her own clothing line but apparently she likes funny guys and there is anyone doofier than Wen Junhui. Again, dumb but objectively attractive. The thing is, she is just way too mature for him. She’s running a high-end business and he works in a fro-yo shop and thinks butt jokes are still funny.

It’s too bad Rin’s not into girls.

You sigh, unsurprised. “What did you do?”

Jun’s face falls and he purses his lips, “Why do you always assume I did something?”

You merely blink back and him and he deflates. “I think she wanted to have sex with me and I screwed things up.”

You automatically laugh and he whines at your reaction, crying about you never taking him seriously. You choke down the laughter but can’t dim the smirk upon your lips, “I’m intrigued, please,” you gesture to the empty space between you, “Paint me a picture.”

Jun leans against the opposite counter, sighing as he recounts the details. “I took her out last Friday and we had dinner and then she said she wanted to come hang out at my place so we went home and we were watching a new movie,” he gets distracted and then really excited, “You know that Blissful Revenge movie I wanted to see, right?”

You nod amusedly, of course. He’s talked about it for weeks.

“So, we were watching it and she kept getting closer which is like cool, I like to snuggle, and then she started kissing my neck and you know how ticklish I am so I kept laughing and she stopped. Then she climbed on my lap and blocked the whole tv and we started making out but I think she saw that I kept trying to look around her to watch the movie and she got pissed and left,” he grimaces awkwardly, “I asked if I could walk her to her car and she said no. So, I stayed inside and watched the rest of the movie by myself.”

Riveting. “Was the movie good?”

His face lights up, “Dude, yes it was amazing! The graphics were so much better than the last movie and it was like a hundred times more gory,” he spreads he hands out and smiles serenely, “Blood and guts, everywhere.”

“Hey,” you look at him curiously, waving your hand, “Come here for a sec…”

Jun looks worried and touches his face then his hair and moves slowly towards you, ‘What-”

“Hold still,” You caution him and as soon as he’s close enough, you reach around and smack him in the back of the head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You ask incredulously, “You have hot and horny girl in your lap and you’re too busy watching tv?! You’ve fumbled the bag, severely. Idiot.”

Jun winces and rubs his head, mussing his hair. “I just don’t get why we couldn’t do it after the movie was over…”

You roll your eyes skyward, begging aloud for Rin to just give you one chance. One chance is all you need to treat her right unlike this towering doofus in front of you.

“Jun,” you say with an incredible amount of patience, “Are you a virgin?”

He narrows his eyes and scoffs, “No.”

No elaboration, interesting.

“Do you like having sex with hot girls?”

He snorts, “Uh, obviously? Don’t you?”

You jut out your chin sarcastically, “Obviously,” you roll your eyes, “And I’m way better at it than you apparently. Do you, like, not know how to tell if a girl is horny? Or into you, in general?”

Jun says nothing but he opens and closes his mouth a few times, scoffing and walking in circles with his hands on his hips, occasionally bringing one up in the air like he’s about to make a point and then lowering it again without a word.

“Dude, you don’t know how to read women at all, do you?”

He finally sighs and dejectedly slumps against the counter next to you. “Women are so beautiful and so mysterious,” he groans, “They don’t talk with their words. How am I supposed to guess what they want?”

Another incredulous look crosses your face. “Her kissing your neck, climbing into your lap, and initiating a make-out session was not clear enough body language for you?”

“We were watching a movie!” he shouts word for word.

“No,” you loudly correct him, “You were watching a movie. She was trying to fuck you! If there is one thing women hate most, it’s being ignored. Especially when they’re trying to initiate intimacy. If she walked out, I can almost guarantee this has happened before with you.”

He seems contemplative but then a couple walk in and you paste on your customer service face and greet them, taking their order. You and Jun work in relative silence, passing things back and forth to each other then to the customers and they leave, emptying out the place once again.

“So, that one time I asked her to watch me play video games and she kept trying to take off my pants…”

He ducks as you throw a handful of m&ms at his head and shouts, “WHY?”

You glare at him and point at the floor, whispering threateningly, “Pick those up,” before he’s running for a broom and dust pan.

He sulks around the shop while you hide in the office, choosing to kick your feet up on the desk and watch an episode on Netflix. Jun is made to watch the floor as punishment for being a dumbass. He has to reflect on the consequences of his actions.

It’s not long before he’s poking his head into the office, a pout plastered on his useless lips. “Whadda you want, virgin?” you ask without looking up.

His forces a teeny, feeble voice and bows his head, “Teach me your ways, sensei.”

You pause your show and look up with a flat face. “I’m not taking on new students.”

He drops to his knees and you both grimace at the crunchy sound they make. “I am begging you,” he shakes his hands, pleading, “I will do the floors and bathrooms myself for a month!”

You narrow you eyes and he folds, “FOR ETERNITY!”

Sighing long and hard you set your phone down and adjust the computer monitor so you can see the front doors should someone come in. “Listen and listen well, young grasshopper. Today is lesson one in ‘How not to be a clueless, immature loser’, ok?”

“You’re a goddess,” he sags in relief, snickering when you sharply tell him to shut up.

And this is how you spend your shifts for the next few weeks, with Jun following you around asking questions and giving hypothetical scenarios. He attempted to rekindle things with Rin, but she’d long since moved on to a much older man with a private yacht and fat 401k. Poor kid hadn’t stood a chance. 

He hadn’t really made an effort to see anyone else either, which you pointed out one day.

“You know,” you twirl a strawberry glazed donut around your finger before taking another bite, “You ought to be putting my incredibly wise and carefully taught methods into practice. What’s the point if you stop talking to girls all together?”

Jun scoffs and spreads his arms, balancing half his weight on the broomstick in his hand. “I have been trying,” he complains, “I hooked up with this girl I met at the club and when I texted her the next day, like you said, she ghosted me.”

You hold your eyes shut for a very long time and poke your tongue in your cheek. “Ok,” you blink, “Walk me through it.”

“We danced-”

“Skip ahead, Jun,” you huff in frustration, “Your place or hers?”

“Mine.”

“I offered her a drink and asked if she wanted to play video games.”

“Christ…okay. Then what?”

“We played Mario Kart and she sucked,” Jun answers with a frown before perking up like he’s about to deliver the good news, “Then she asked if she could blow me and I said yes!”

“Thrilling,” you sip from your near empty drink and gesture for him to continue, “And did you pay attention to her?”

His smile falters and he chuckles awkwardly, “She wasn’t very good at it and seemed kinda irritated that I didn’t have a better reaction but like, isn’t it rude to fake it?”

“Did you attempt to help her in anyway? Remember the whole communication thing?”

“I was going to but then she gave up and it was kind of awkward so I suggested we go to my room to bang.”

“Verbatim?” you nearly choke on your donut, “You- nevermind,” you hold your hand up, “How was the sex?”

Jun shrugs, “Fine?”

“Fine?” you repeat, “What does ‘fine’ mean?”

He scrunches up his face. “She was so boring. Dead silent, missionary, lights off.”

You frown in thought, “That is boring,” you shake you empty cup and Jun takes it from you to refill it, “This one sounds like it’s not one-hundred percent your fault.”

“I didn’t even finish,” he laughs, handing the cup back to you, “I asked if she wanted to stay and chill but she said she didn’t think we really had anything in common so she just kinda left.”

“Why did you ask her to stay if you guys didn’t hit it off?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, “It felt yucky asking her to leave after we hooked up.”

“Oh, Jun,” you pout your lip out sincerely, “You’re many things, most of them being dumb, but you really are a sweetheart. I’m beginning to think half your problem is that you’re going for the wrong type.”

He accidentally bumps the register and the cash drawer comes flying out, the corner of it nailing him in the hip. He bows over and you scramble off the counter. “Shit, are you okay? I told Jim to fix the fucking drawer!”

You tug his shirt up and sure enough there is a small cut, purple and angry. “Ouch,” he says dumbly but you’re already dragging him to the back office by the arm, grumbling about giving your manager an earful when you spoke to him next. Jun patiently waits as you slam drawers and cabinets until you find a first aid kit and start grabbing things out of it.

“What do you mean I’m going for the wrong type?” he asks, wincing when you dab his cut with alcohol as gently as you can.

“Well, I don’t think you’re shallow or anything but you like pretty girls and most of time, the ones you pick, have nothing in common with you, interests or personality wise.”

“Soooo I have to find a girl who likes all the things I like?”

You snort. That’s a unicorn of a woman. “No, just find a girl who likes you for you, stupid. Someone who cares enough about you to be interested in your hobbies just because they make you happy and understands the way your tiny brain works.”

Jun hums in thought as you smooth a Band-Aid over his cut with your thumb softly. He glances down at the crown of your head and his eyes widen in shock and sudden realization .

“Like you…”

You pick your head up. “What?”

“You like me for me-”

You stand up and put your hands out about to cut him off but he advances on you, thoughts spewing from his lips in a mad dash to spell out the connection.

“You like me even though you think I'm dumb and immature. You always laugh at my jokes and listen to me talk about all the stuff I like and we play games together and you like the same kind of movies! Plus, you’re the only girl who didn’t think my collectables were weird! We have so much in common!”

“Yeah!” You shout back in a panic, “We both like girls!”

“I know! We’re perfect for each other! Wait- I thought you were bi…”

What the fuck is happening?

“I am but I haven’t been with a guy in…years,” you let out a breath as Jun takes a step back, “I’ve had like a handful of experiences with men and they’ve all been super disappointing. I haven’t even been interested in a guy because wait-”

You point your finger at him accusingly, “Are you my designated golden retriever boy?!”

Jun points to himself questioningly, “Is that a thing? I’m more of a cat gu-”

“No, no,” you push past him and start your closing duties, rushing to be finished and get out of the shop, “We’re not even entertaining this train of thought. Go do the floors.”

He purses his lips and swallows at your frantic movements deciding it’s probably in his best interest to just do as he’s told…and quickly.

He rushes around speed cleaning the floors and taking the trash out while you shut everything else down, which is relatively easy. You do get stuck counting the cash deposit four times though. Too easily distracted by your errant and wholly ridiculous thoughts. Twenty minutes later, you're locking the doors while Jun rocks on his heels, hands dug in his pockets.

“I’m sorry for making things weird,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfy.”

You drop your head, still facing the door before forcing yourself to turn and look at him, “I’m not upset with you, noodle head.”

“Promise?”

He sticks out a pinky and wiggles it.

You snort and then link your own. “Promise.”

Jun grins and bounces on his feet, “Cool. Wanna come over and watch scary movies?”

It’s one o’clock in the morning but you’re not tired and Jun is actually your favorite movie buddy because you both can talk through it without missing anything and critique the plot the whole time. Plus, he has comfy clothes and good snacks.

“I get your Karasuno hoodie.”

“Deal.”

“Dude,” you snort, biting off another piece of your sour gummy worm and twirling it around, “Can you believe they cut her out of the last film?”

Jun tosses his head back, “Right?! She was one of the best characters and her arc was trash. It was such a waste.”

He attempts to reach for the bag but keeps missing so you grab a hand full and shove it in his mouth, both your eyes still glued to the screen. It’s pitch black in the room aside from the tv and you’re both huddled up on Jun’s couch bundled in his hoodies, pajama pants, and blankets. Plus the Snorlax plushie you stole off his bed. It’s so stupid soft and squishy.

The table is littered with snacks, candy, empty noodle cups, and your bra which you carelessly ditched early on. Comfort was key on movie nights and Jun never once made it a big deal.

When the credits finally roll Jun claps like a buffoon and laughing, you stretch our your limbs, your tendency to sit like a pretzel making your joints stiff. He turns and holds up the remote. “One more?” he asks hopefully.

You hum, indecision splitting your mind. You do want to watch another but you know you’ll be too tired to drive home afterward. It would have to wait for another night and you explain as much. Jun pouts for half a second, but he never makes you feel bad when you decide to go. He grabs the things from the table and carries them all back to the kitchen while you stuff your bra and uniform into your bag. You’d bring his clothes back another time.

When Jun returns, he meets you at the door and prepares to walk down to the parking lot with you, an oddly endearing habit of his you’ve always liked. You go to grab the door handle but something makes you turn around and look at him.

He smiles back at you even though he’s not sure why you’re looking at him in the first place and a sudden curiosity overcomes you.

“Can I try something?”

“Uh,” he tilts his head in confusion, “Yeah?”

You slip your hand up to the back of his head and pull him in, pressing your lips against his...just trying it out. Jun’s hands come up in surprise but he just holds them over your hips, not quite touching you. When you pull back you just look at him, your eyes flitting from his deep brown eyes to the little mole near his lip.

“Was that weird for you?”

“No,” he shakes his head slowly.

“Ok…coo-”

Jun presses you up against the door, kissing you harder while his hands slip beneath the hoodie you’re wearing, stroking your bare skin. Your bag falls to the floor and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, sighing into his mouth just as his tongue prods along your bottom lip. He folds over you, caging you in and gripping your hips, growing more enthused with each swipe of your talented tongue against his own.

“Bedroom?” you ask between kisses and he doesn’t even answer. He simply picks you up like a cardboard standee and carries you the short distance to his room, not bothering to close the door. Instead of setting you down, like a normal person, he shifts your weight to one arm while clearing space on his bed with the other before dropping you onto the mattress with a little bounce.

“I thought you didn’t like boys,” he smirks, tearing his hoodie off and throwing it to the floor while you do the same and Jun doesn’t even pretend to look anywhere other than your bare chest.

“I don’t,” you maneuver out of your pants just barely fast enough before Jun is on the bed, hovering over you with a grin.

“Just to be clear,” he wiggles his pelvis against yours, “I have a dick.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” You snort, knocking him off of you just so you can swing a leg over his hips and smirk down at him, “Big dick and no brain cells.”

You slip your fingers beneath his waistband and run them back and forth, tickling his skin and making him giggle. Your nose twitches, smiling hard at his stupidly endearing reactions. You were so hard pressed to just admit that all the immature, boyish characteristics that made Jun who he was were some of your favorite things about him. 

This...whatever it was...is physically driven but the rest would certainly cloud the forefront of your mind come tomorrow morning.

Jun startles you out of thought suddenly, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you down until your chests are pressed together, faces mere inches apart. His thumb strokes over your cheek and you peer back curiously. “I wanna kiss you again,” he whispers.

The admittance is so soft and genuine you can’t help but ask why.

He blushes and teases his tongue at the corner of his mouth, “It’s exciting,” he breathes, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting, “Honestly, I’ve thought about kissing you before but I was afraid you’d punch me or something.”

“Wait,” you push yourself up onto your elbows, “You’ve wanted to kiss me? When?”

He hums in thought for a minute. “Uh, anytime you’ve ever laughed at my dumb jokes, rolled your eyes at me, or called me an idiot.”

“I do those things all the time.”

“Yep.”

“So…you…?”

He nods resolutely, “Yep.”

Jun groans at the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest, your hands in his hair, your tongue dipping past his lips and he wraps his arms around you, blunt nails scratching at your sides. He sucks down air when you pull back, eyes unfocused from your sudden, overwhelming kiss and you flick him in the forehead, sighing down at him. “How dare you make me feel feelings for a man,” you chuckle, kissing the same spot, “You big dummy.”

He laughs in response and you release a strangled shout, holding on for dear life as he flips you over with a devilish grin and wastes not a second before he’s kissing and giggling his way down the length of your body. He reaches the front of your panties and looks up, tilting his head.

“I will crush your head between my thighs right this second, Junhui. Try me.”

“I’m just taking a moment to appreciate,” he marvels, running one finger down the imprint of your folds through the soft material, “Also, don’t threaten me with a good time. I love your thighs and would gladly beg for death right this second if I wasn’t about to suffocate myself in your pussy.”

Not a single woman you’d ever been with paused to say such ridiculous shit nor has any other man bothered to sound so enthused about giving head and it just another box only Jun could check for you apparently. You sigh as he crudely pushes your panties to the side but not a moment later he’s looking at you again, eager hands stretching the material unforgivingly.

“Sit on my face.”

Your neck cracks as you look down at him incredulously, “Sorry, what?”

He grins curiously, “Sit on my face, please.”

“I-” he begins putting everything in motion, tearing off your panties, “I wasn’t looking for the magic word! You…Wait-” he keeps you moving, manhandling you into a sitting position despite your babbling, “You told me you’ve never done this-”

“I haven’t,” he confirms, shimmying further down the bed to work you up and over his shoulders.

“J-Jun!” you shriek as he lifts his head and kisses your bare pussy, “I’ve only done this once with an ex-boyfriend and it did not go well!” your voice catches when he kisses you again, humming happily between your trembling thighs, “Thick girls are not made for face-sitting!”

At that, Jun stops what he’s doing and glares up at you with contempt for whichever sad bastard put that idea in your head. “And I’m the stupid one?” he mumbles under his breath before softening his face, “Do you trust me?”

Your nails dig into his hands at your hips. “With most things, no.”

He rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up,” and then he’s squeezing the junction between your hips and thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth - his hot lips kissing a sucking every ounce of hesitance away until your melting against him, struggling to hold your own weight up.

“Oh, fuck…you,” you groan when he flattens his tongue against you, eyes soft and hazy as he savors and worships his mouthful.

How Jun has ever managed to turn a girl off with this sort of talent is shocking but perhaps that’s why they stuck around as long as they did. They were more interested in his bedroom ability then any of the silly things that came out of his mouth. It makes you sort of sad and then Jun’s rolling his tongue against your clit and dragging you back and forth over his face like a deviant and you can’t seem to focus on how much of an L these girls took anymore.

The sensation has you squeezing your thighs unintentionally, squishing Jun’s cheeks between them and he groans, hands kneading your soft legs and hips. “How…are…you even…still b-breathing?”

Making him laugh is a mistake, kind of, because the vibration it causes sends a tingle up your spine and a hearty moan spills from your lips and that’s just when you give up. You give up trying to carefully hover over him. You give up clinging to some semblance of dignity. You give up the charade of acting like you don’t want to ride his face because you do and all the little poisonous bubbles of self consciousness floating around in your head begin to pop and disappear, and when you slip your fingers into his hair, he moans against you.

Jun gives immaculate head. You’re more than qualified to judge that.

Speaking of…

“Jun,” you attempt to get him to open his eyes but he’s too engrossed in making out with your pussy like it’s prom night until you pull his hair a little harder than intended and he blinks up at you. It’s almost embarrassing how messy and wet his face is when you pull off of him and he starts to complain but you carefully spin around, placing your knees on either side of his head so you can lay your body along the length of his and push down his boxers.

“Sixty-Nine,” Jun chuckles, grabbing a pillow to prop his head closer and then he’s reaching for your hips again, “Cool.”

You blink eight more times than necessary and swallow the laugh building in your chest to instead take him in your hand. It almost feels foreign, having been so long since you’ve actually let anyone with a cock near you but Jun’s is not half bad. More than decent length, a little bit of girth, hint of a curve - if anything your just intrigued by the fact that you had actually wanted to see it, touch it, put it in your mouth and see what sort of reaction Jun had when you teased it.

His tongue playfully pokes at your clit the same time you lean down and circle yours around the tip of his cock and he sighs against you, warm breath making you roll your hips back against him in time with the way you take him in your mouth, experimenting to figure out what makes him happiest. Judging by the hands on your ass that squeeze and flex when you take him as far as you can and come back up to suckle on the head, that’s probably his favorite.

It gets harder and harder to maintain a pace the more enthused Jun becomes, especially when he pushes two long fingers into your cunt, lapping at your throbbing clit over and over. No doubt, on the list of reasons why Jun’s relationships never worked out - giving out orgasms was not in the top ten because when your legs begin shaking around him and his cock pops out from between your lips on a long moan he flattens his tongue and drags it back and forth messily until you’re cumming hard and collapsing on top of him, head rested against his thigh.

“I can’t see,” you murmur as Jun gently rolls you over, giggling at the empty, fucked out expression on your face, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Mmm,” He hums with a goofy flat smile, “A bit dramatic but I’m flattered…so, uh, do you wanna just like wait here while I,” he points toward the bathroom and you furrow your brows, “And then we can watch youtube or something?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and give him a funny look, “Are you going to jack off in the bathroom? Alone?”

Jun opens and then closes his mouth and then opens it again, ”Well…I, yeah I’m mean unless you wanted to like…should I not?”

“You’re the eighth wonder of the world,” you shake your head, chuckling in disbelief, “Do you not want to have sex with me?”

Jun’s eyes widen, “What kind of question is that?”

“So, you’re not having sex with me right now because…..?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” he answers right away and you have the sudden urge to both smack him upside the head and kiss the living daylights out of him.

The latter wins out and you press your lips to his sweetly, your hand gently cradling the side of his head and you pull back to meet his eyes. “It seems as though we still have a few lessons to go on ‘how to read women’. Letting a girl ride your face for twenty minutes while she sucks your dick is pretty indicative that she’s into you and also in the mood to have sex. If you still can’t tell…it’s okay to ask.”

“Should we start over?” He asks already reaching for your body and you laugh swatting at his chest, “I’m kidding!” he grins and then his voice is so quiet and sincere, “Are you really sure? We don’t have to-”

“Jun,” you stop him with another kiss, “I’m sure. Do you have condoms?”

He scoffs, “Of course I do,” and then he’s getting up out of bed and opening the first drawer of his dresser, pulling something from the back corner.

“....Is that a poke ball? You keep your condoms…in a poke ball?!”

The red, white, and black ball is all too familiar and Jun turns toward you, splitting the ball open and flashing a gold wrapper in your direction. “Uh, yeah,” he whispers, “Gotta catch em all.”

Laughter spills from your lips freely and Jun grins so hard his cheeks hurt because you actually appreciate his juvenile sense of humor unlike every other girl he’s ever dated. Maybe you were right and he’s been going after the wrong type all along and maybe he’ll be lucky enough to be given a chance to prove how perfectly suited the two of you were for each other.

He realizes it’s something he really wants to put effort into and something clicks in his brain. A memory of the two of you at Yo-Nuts, talking while you tossed gummy bears at Jun one at a time for him to catch like a seal, most of which bounced off his face. You had told him that if he really wanted something, if he truly desired to pursue a real relationship, then he had to put forth the effort. 

Pay attention to her, really listen when she speaks, let her know you’re there for her, lift her up, make her laugh, make her feel appreciated and understood.

It had sometimes felt like a chore and one mostly unreciprocated.

Except when it came to you. It was so easy and he realized that not only did he freely do these things for you without even knowing but you did the same for him. The teasing and name-calling was all surface level and never intended to be hurtful but beneath all that, Jun knew how much you cared about him. He just never considered there could be a different side to this relationship and now that he sees the potential…

“Jun,” your voice suddenly pierces through his hurricane of thoughts and feelings and he blinks rapidly as you look up at him in concern, “I lost you for like a solid two minutes. Are you okay?”

He shakes his head and laughs it off, “I’m good, sorry. I was just- nevermind…conversation for a different day I think. Did my zombie trance kill the mood?”

Your tongue pokes between your lips in amusement and you slowly shake your head, “No, but it wouldn’t hurt if you hurried the fuck up and played with my tits while you’re at it.”

If his dick wasn’t rock solid already, it is impossibly so right now.

He fumbles with the wrapper, pulling out the condom and rolling it over himself with record speed and then he’s pressed against you, pushing your thigh up, fingers imprinting your skin. The weight of his cock between your folds makes you swallow hard and he uses his free hand to squeeze and knead your breasts, rolling his thumb over your nipples as he coats himself in your wetness, tip poking at your hole.

You accidentally hold your breath when he breaches you slowly, trying to ease his way between your tight walls without hurting you or going cross-eyed at the pressure himself. “Are you okay?” he asks about half-way in, pausing to let you take a deep breath, “Not that I think I have like the most massive dick on the planet bu-”

“It’s f-fine, I know what you mean,” you let out a strained huff of amusement, “It’s still a big dick and the only one that isn’t made of silicone or attached to a body in some fashion that I’ve had in a long time. I’m appreciative but I’m okay - this is okay, Jun.”

The reassurance comforts him and he carefully pushes forward until he’s bottomed out but he doesn’t sit still, instead he starts a slow, shallow sort of rhythm, watching your face with each stroke, still massaging your breasts in one large hard while the other remains firmly attached to your plush thigh. He watches, waiting for that little bit of tension to melt from your features and when it does, he doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, drawing his hips back further and driving them home deeper.

Jun can’t get enough between the soft faces and pretty sounds you make, and the way your tender flesh feels beneath his fingers, taking handfuls and drowning in just how much he wants to touch you and please you. Never has he been so utterly enthralled in a partner and maybe that’s because there is so much more than sex involved in your relationship. 

He knows he’s slipping right back into dangerous territory but he can’t help it.

Especially not when you reach down to play with your own clit, big doe eyes trained on his, long delicate lashes drawing his attention to your flushed face.

Jun is pretty sure he has never been so excited to cum in his life though he wouldn’t dare voice that, lest you mock him for eternity. He doesn’t really mind though. He sometimes thinks he has some masochistic kink considering the amount of times he’s popped a boner over your smart mouthed, half-hearted insults.

“I think I'm in love with you,” he breathes out accidentally, brain too full of lust and hot air to filter what comes out of his mouth.

“I think you’re thinking with your dick,” you all but moan back to him, cutting your breath short when he pushes both of your legs forward, pressing down on your thighs to angle your hips up.

  Jun smirks which is a stupidly hot look on him. “Ah, but my dick and my heart are very closely connected.”

“Guess that makes sense since you have no brain.”

“Shut up.”

You do the opposite, however, no real words come out. Only incoherent strings of encouragement or flat out begging that you will refuse to acknowledge and deny until the end of days pours from your open lips with a clear end in sight. All it takes is a few more rough strokes and he’s pushing so deeply inside that your body gives up and orgasms so abruptly that Jun jerks forward, emptying himself into the condom almost violently as he shakes and groans.

There are several long extended moments of silence as you both attempt to catch your breath and figure out what to say to one another. He attempted to pull out at one point but even that brief bit of movement sent a shockwave through your body and you tugged him down to lay on top of you, forbidding him to move with a barrage of intricate threats.

The problem is that five minutes later, Jun is now too comfortable and half asleep and you’re smooshed under his long, lanky frame.

“Jun,” you mumble against his throat, making him wiggle, “Jun, you need to move.”

He giggles but it’s more so a physical reaction than anything else because his neck is so ticklish and he whispers back, “Noooo~ stay…”

“I’m not leaving dummy,” you roll him onto his back, shuddering at the sudden empty feeling, “We both need to get cleaned up.”

He hums, eyes still firmly shut and you roll your own toward the ceiling. “If you sleep with a condom on your dick will lose circulation and fall off in the middle of the night.”

He springs out of bed so quickly he nearly knocks you over but he grabs the blankets and folds them over you so you don’t fall off the edge as he trips and nearly eats the ground. Finally steadied, he grins down at you and offers a hand up, “I would feel like a loser if it was anyone other than you who witnessed that.”

“You are a loser,” you smirk, “Kind of a hot loser though.”

Jun tilts his chin up confidently, “She loves me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“She does,” he sings, pulling you toward his bathroom, “Do you wanna have a sleepover?”

“No.”

“Ok, perfect! I like to cuddle!”

And then fifteen minutes later you’re both passed out in Jun’s bed - snoring and all. You’re not the prettiest sleeper and neither is he and you’re definitely both waking up a little sweaty because Jun sleeps like an octopus, clinging to you with long limbs no matter how many times you accidentally elbow him in the gut. It’s comfortable though, too comfortable, and that’s something you’ll be thinking of for the days and weeks to come.

“Smash or Pass,” Jun tosses his wet rag in the sink, just having finished cleaning the toppings counter during your usual night shift a few weeks later, “Edward or Jacob?”

You scoff, keeping your voice down considering there were actually a few customers that had rolled in. “Pass on both,” you wipe around the register, throwing your rag in the sink next to his, “The correct answer is Jasper and all other options…other than Alice…are invalid.”

Jun nods slowly, “Smashhhhh...you’re right,” agreeing with your answer and then he shrugs, “Jacob was hotter than Edward - kinda creepy though like no means no….and don’t get me started on the whole renaissance thing.”

You snort, loudly, he avoids saying the kid’s actual name at all costs and the replacements are always top tier. “Wait - who is the ultimate twilight smash? 3-2-1…”

“Charlie,” you both say at the same time, grinning at your cultured tastes.

“Ultimate smash number 2?” he asks and you both respond, “Sam,” within a matter of seconds.

Jun laughs, a hand on his hip, “I don’t know what it is but you just get me.”

You chuckle, turning away from the counter but it ends in a frown when you dip your finger beneath the material of your shirt and find a fro-yo stain at the bottom. “Junhuiii~” you sigh without looking, “I’ll brb, gotta go see if I can rinse this stain out.”

Jun nods and busies himself organizing the donut display though there isn’t much to organize. The pace at night is either steady or so quiet there isn’t much to maintain unlike the day-time rush. The two of you have things pretty spotless by the time you leave each night. 

The door chimes and Jun looks up with a big smile on his face that drops into an awkward tight grimace.

“Oh, hey, Rin,” he greets as his ex-something, they had never actual had a label, approaches the register “N-need a donut?”

Rin smiles and leans on the counter, “Long time no see, Wen Junhui. You haven’t returned my call.”

Jun looks out into the dining room as if some random patron can save him from the awkward situation but alas, none jump to their feet. “You didn’t leave me a message…”

He chuckles nervously and presses his finger to the counter, “You know…beeeeeep.”

She blinks long and hard, attempting to squash her temper. “I see you’ve grown so much,” she sighs to herself and then schools a smile onto her pretty face, “Anyway, we should go out, catch up over dinner…how’s tomorrow for you?”

“Uhhh, don’t you have like a guy, like a boy-,” he’s kind of old, “Man, uh, friend?”

Rin shifts uncomfortably, “David isn’t the jealous type and besides,” she leans in further and reaches for Jun’s arm, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hey, did you call for me?” you say suddenly and Jun turns to find you coming up to his side, pulling his arm out of reach with wide eyes and a sigh of relief. Rin retracts her hand and glances down at your fingers ghosting over Jun’s, narrowing her eyes.

She points her manicured finger in accusation. “Are you two together or something?”

“Yes,” you say before Jun has a chance to answer and his eyes grow wider if possible, not leaving your face for one second as you glare at Rin across the counter.

Rin laughs and you smile. “Jun, go check on the security cameras in the office.”

He stares at the space above your head for a moment then looks back down with furrowed brows, “Wait, those don’t wo-”

“Right, they don’t work,” you drawl in a flat tone, still staring at Rin who seems to be losing a bit of steam, “Must have forgot. Go sweep.”

“But-”

“Junhui,” You look at him with a tight smile, “Go sweep.”

He wearily shuffles away and you set your eyes back on Rin. “What are you doing here?”

“Look,” she flips her long hair over her shoulder condescendingly, as if she’s about to impart you with real-world wisdom, “Girl to girl, he’s hot and a great lay, but save yourself the trouble. He’s a man child who cares more about his little dolls and made up characters than he ever will about you.”

“Oh? Is that why you were here trying to ask him out again?”

Rin’s mouth falls open slightly and she goes to speak but you beat her to it.

“Because your super mature, rich, sugar daddy boyfriend is what? Incredibly sad in the sack?” you grit your teeth, frowning in faux-sympathy, “Probably only talks about golf and sailing and 401ks, huh? Lasts like 10 minutes and grunts a lot, hmm? You must be so bored.”

Rin gets angry but she doesn’t yell, too aware of the other people within earshot if she were to raise her voice. “At least he pays attention to me and cares about things other than movies and video games! Dating Jun was like babysitting an overgrown teenager!”

You place both hands on either side of the register, “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re a boring, vapid bitch and you have nothing in common with Jun - who is incredibly thoughtful and intuitive with me by the way,” you narrow your eyes and whisper, “Sounds like that was a you problem - and now you’re here thinking you can walk right in and have him back? As if what? He was just waiting for you to call him back to your side? Like a dog?”

She opens her mouth to argue and you hold up a hand, “Listen, Rin, you’re a smart girl, so I know you’ll understand when I tell you that if you attempt to disrespect Jun like this, ever again, I will shove a fistful of crushed peanuts so far down your throat that pretty face will swell up before you reach the door.”

Rin gasps in horror and you tilt your head, “What? You thought Jun wasn’t listening when you mentioned your deathly serious allergy the first time you met? Ah, it seems he does pay attention - not that you cared enough to notice even though he refused peanut butter everything, which he loves, from the moment he met you, always asked if things were made with peanut oil, etcetera, god forbid he hurt you in some way for being exposed himself.”

She stutters, “I…I d-didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t,” you come around the counter and Rin backs toward the door the closer you get, “Now get the fuck out of my building before I-”

The words fall out in a shriek of surprise as Jun runs up behind you, loops an arm around your middle and picks you up, quickly carrying you back behind the counter, “Bye Rin!” he says hastily, “You probably shouldn’t come back…like ever!”

A few customers stare at Rin who quickly disappears through the doors and to you being physically escorted around the counter and out of sight before they go back to their treats. It’s too late for them to make it their business it seems. 

Jun doesn’t put you down until you’re in the tiny back office and once he does you cross your arms, “What was that for?! I was handling it.”

He flashes a smile and then rushes forward to kiss you, clumsily running your back into an old filing cabinet but his arms are there to cushion the blow and you’re too busy thinking about how soft his lips are to complain about anything at the moment anyhow. Eventually one hand cradles the back of your head and he eases back, giggling at your closed lids. “Thank you for sticking up for me,” he says quietly and you pop your eyes open, looking back at him.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper, eyes caught on the sincere smile he offers.

Jun lets out a little puff of amusement. “So, we’re together?”

You groan, pushing him back though he clings onto you, unwillingly to let you get away so easily, “I was just saying that to make her leave you alone. I told you we’re not dating.”

He furrows his brows teasingly, “Seriously? I put on the sexy maid costume for you and we had an hour long discussion about pegging. We’re totally dating.”

Laughter knots your stomach and you try to wiggle out of his long arms, “You liked it more than I did, rat boy! Let me go!”

“No!” he struggles to hold his grip on your squirming and twisting, “You’re so cute and I wanna hold you!”

“We’re working!” you hiccup after giggling so hard, “Unhand me you cheeseball!”

Jun suddenly lets you go but catches your hand, grinning like a fool. “Say ‘Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with’ and I’ll let you go.”

You mumble a bunch of words under your breath and tug your arm to no avail, “Wen Junhui, loser extraordinaire, is sort of good looking-”

“And?” Jun raises his chin, eyes peering down patiently.

“- And maybe, is my friend boy, that I l-”

“Love,” he fills in, nodding as he feeds you words.

You fake gag, “Love…in a totally platonic way-”

Jun gasps and your eyes light up, “Liar!” he laughs, “Say it!”

You’re such a liar and you both know it. It’s been weeks now that you’ve practically been attached at the hip - going out, staying in, watching movies, playing games, talking and laughing all the time. Not to mention you’re in his apartment in a t-shirt and underwear more often than you’re in your own these days.

“Having a boyfriend is really going to kill my game with the ladies but I guess if I have to have one, you’re the best option and maybe I do love you just a little. Like the smallest amount. A crumb from the world’s tiniest cookie. Microscopic. I barely like you.”

Jun beams, “Good enough for me,” he loosens his grip and you walk back up the the front to check on things. You’ve both been gone a little too long.

“Since you’re my girlfriend can I call you cute names? Baby, sweetheart, honey, angel,” he offers and you look over your shoulder with a grimace, “Lover, goddess, beloved mistress of the night…”

“Jun…those are terrible and I'm going to drown you in strawberry fro-yo if you do not shut up or if anyone on this god forsaken earth ever hears you call me those things out loud.”

“Yes, my beautiful rat queen. Whatever you wish,” he bows comically and you flap your hand loose from his grip, running back up to the register but Jun is never more than three feet behind you. “Hey, you’re still coming home with me right?”

You ignore him, aimlessly poking at the screen and he leans beside you, still whispering discreetly, “Mingyu finally let me borrow his guitar hero because I told him it’s your favorite…and it’s the original…”

You finally look up at him and he grins, knowing he’s got you.

“Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with,” you murmur and then you look out into the dining room finding only one customer left in the building, pointing him out to Jun, “The sooner he leaves the sooner we get to go play. You know what to do.”

Jun stretches and cracks his knuckles, “I’m about to make this man so uncomfortable.”

“I have faith in you,” you pat his shoulder, chuckling, “Make me proud, dummy.”

He tries kissing you before he walks away but his lips meet the palm of your hand.

“Sorry, I only kiss rat boys who can beat me in guitar hero, you’ll have to wait.”

He walks and then stops, looking very serious and contemplative, “Ok but you can’t play it with Mingyu or Woozi then because they’re like really good and you can only kiss me.”

“I’m not kissing anyone unless you get us out of here.”

“Right,” he focuses his gaze on the poor soul in the corner of the dining room and grins, “Be ready to leave in ten minutes,” and then he’s moving and you’re left giggling behind the counter.

Yeah, he’s still kind of a loser but he’s your loser now and that somehow just feels right. 

You know what else feels right?

Giving Jun that overdue wedgie the second you clock out and listening to him complain all the way home that you’re an actual super villain for waiting months for him to let his guard down just to turn around and desecrate his honor in the Yo-Nuts parking lot. All while holding your hand in the car.

Jun is probably right. You two are perfect for each other. 

Thanks for reading! 

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[chanluster]

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea. 

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS: 

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

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

Were you really just friends? 

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth. 

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

You blinked. 

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette glanced up from the couch as she heard a knock at her door, then beamed when she recognized the familiar rhythm of the knocks that followed.

"Luka!" she called, knowing from experience that her voice was loud enough. "Come in!"

There was a pause, then a click as the door was unlocked. Luka entered with a smile, stashing his key to her house in his pocket.

She giggled. "You don't have to knock, you know. That's what the key is for."

"I know," he replied with a shrug, "but I still want you to know it's me."

She blushed, unsure of how to tell him that he was the only person she'd ever given a key to. Besides, if she told him, she might miss his knocks.

But that's how it always was with Luka; he never assumed or thought he might be special to her, which had always been such an insult because she'd been crushing on him for years. They were best friends, certainly, but she'd happily be his girlfriend and best friend if that's what he wanted.

She supposed she was greedy that way, but who could blame her? Luka was sweet, attractive, and had that sort of effect on her where she found it easy to relax with him. He was also insanely supportive, as she'd learned whenever she did basically anything.

As Luka approached, her eyes flickered briefly to his arms - specifically to the tattoo sleeves she'd made for him - though she was careful not to stare too long, knowing that she'd start blushing and Luka would tease her about "the amazing person" who created said sleeves.

She'd made them on a whim, after Luka had expressed interest in getting tattoos but was nervous at the idea of actually getting them. It then proved to be a mistake, because he wore the tattoo sleeves everywhere and bragged about them at every opportunity. It was extremely blush-inducing as well as flattering, so she didn't really have a right to complain exactly, but he was already overwhelming enough without the sleeves and constant praises!

"Do you have any plans for us today?" Luka asked, pulling his guitar case off and sitting down next to her.

"Hm, I was thinking we could just have a creative session?" she suggested, gesturing at her sketchpad and pencil on the table. "Maybe with some drinks and snacks."

"That sounds amazing," he said, as if it really was some incredible experience for him. Shifting his guitar case so he could easily open it, he added, "Just give me a minute to see how it sounds. It's been a long time since I've used this one."

"Ohh, which one is it? Which one did you bring?" Marinette wondered, perhaps a little too eager about the whole thing but being genuinely curious. She even slid closer to him, her hand almost unconsciously resting on his arm as she leaned close to the case.

Then, she realized a few seconds later that what she was touching didn't feel like fabric at all. It felt like skin. She jerked up in surprise, thinking that she'd somehow touched his side instead or was going crazy, yet her hand was firmly on his arm. She even raised her hand up for a moment, settling it back on his arm again as if that would suddenly change things, but nothing did.

She was so distracted with it that she didn't notice Luka's smirk.

"...Wait." She blinked, unable to process it, then ran her hand up and down his arm. "No, this—?"

She stood up, ignoring Luka's chuckle as she grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up. He put his guitar case aside and let her, standing there as she circled him in complete and utter confusion.

She felt his other arm, running her hand up and down what felt so clearly like skin despite bearing her designs and patterns. Still somehow unconvinced, she slid one of her hands upwards, pushing back the slight sleeve of his shirt that was supposed to hide where the tattoo sleeve cut off.

Yet, all she saw was the tattoos blatantly blending into his skin.

She swallowed, then finally looked up at Luka's face in shock. Seeing the amusement in his face, it hit her that she'd been feeling all over his arms and recoiled, throwing her hands up like she thought she'd done something bad.

"I—I'm so sorry! Just—you—" She gestured wildly. "—your arms!"

He hummed, blatantly playing coy with her. "What about my arms?"

"T-tattoos!"

"But I've always had these," he argued, glancing down at her designs with his usual adoring smile.

"N-not on your arms!" she pointed out. "I mean—yes—on your arms—because they were sleeves—but now they're not sleeves!"

Luka's smile only widened, the back of his hand coming up while he suppressed a chuckle.

Reality slowly sunk in for Marinette.

"Luka... you got actual tattoos? But—but I thought—" She shook her head in disbelief. "The needles... you said—?"

She had to wait for him to compose himself before he responded, as he hadn't stopped giggling at her.

"...Yeah, I did say that, and I know you designed these for me because I couldn't go through with it for real," he began, his smile shifting from an amused one to fond, "but... the more I wore them, the harder it became to part with your design, so..."

"Wait—" She pointed. "—that's why you did it?"

He nodded, sounding almost absurdly proud as he replied, "Your work is part of me now, Marinette."

She felt the heat from her cheeks spreading to her face, even to her ears and neck. She was certain that she couldn't get any redder even if she tried.

"P-part of you?"

"That's right." He grinned, absolutely pleased with himself. "I haven't regretted it and I never will."

She had no idea how to react. Loving and wearing her work on his body was one thing, but to love it so much that he got it permanently put onto his skin? She thought she couldn't love him anymore and yet here she was, feeling vaguely like crying with all the emotions she was feeling.

"B-but that's... that's not fair?" she whined weakly in protest.

He snorted. "Why not?"

"Because—!" She threw her arms out, the words building up in her throat before she finally said with her whole chest, "Because I can't be a part of you and I'm jealous!"

Just like that, the smile vanished from Luka's face, his lips parting in shock. She swallowed - okay, maybe she could turn more red after all - but couldn't bring herself to take her words back, her gaze dropping to the floor in embarrassment.

From her perspective, it looked like he was completely frozen in place, but then his feet shifted so he was facing her. His hands came forward, touching hers experimentally and then holding them properly.

"Y...you can be, if that's what you want."

Her head darted back up, her eyes meeting his again. "Huh?"

"Marinette," he began, taking a slow breath, "there was more than one reason why I wanted your design on me."

"I thought you did it because you liked it?"

"Yeah, but—" He tilted his head to the side, his fond smile returning. "I like the artist more."

"You..." The mental gears slowly turned. "really?"

"Yeah, really." He pulled her hands up to his arms to settle them on his tattoos again. "I wanted these not just because they were yours, but I wanted you to always have a place on my body, just like you always have a place in my heart."

She let out a breath, her gaze shifting all around his arms while she slowly traced some of the patterns. "There's... still more room in there? Even with all the love you've already given me."

"It's reserved for you, Marinette," he whispered, his voice doing dangerous things to her heart. "You've had a VIP pass since the day we met."

"Oh." And that was all she could say for a long moment, everything still catching up to her as she gripped his arms for stability, feeling almost like she'd wake up or fall over at any moment. She swallowed, working herself up and sliding her hands up his arms until she could wrap her own arms around his neck, pulling him down while she simultaneously rose up on her tiptoes.

"I...I'd like to use it now then."

He paused, then positively beamed at her. His arms went around her as well, no more words exchanged as they leaned in for a single kiss.

Only, a single kiss proved to not be enough. They went in for a second, then a third, and Marinette had lost count by the time she realized that Luka was just as needy as she was. How long had they both been stupidly pining for each other then?

One thing was for certain at least: they'd just have to make up for lost time.

After a multitude of more kisses, they pulled back to take an actual, proper breath, their hesitance to part clear in how they pressed their foreheads together.

"I-if I'd known that you'd be doing... that," she began in a whisper, half-afraid of ruining the moment, "I would've included my signature, you know?"

"Really?"

"Mhm." She blushed. "N-not as in—my name—but..."

"Wait," he said suddenly, "I think there's—"

He released her and pulled away so quickly that she let out an involuntary whine, pouting at the sudden lack of his warmth. Still, she watched as he twisted his right arm around like he was looking for something.

Finally, he extended his arm to her, pointing so it couldn't be missed. "There."

She looked. Right there on his forearm. There was an empty space that she didn't remember from her original design.

"I asked them to leave this spot free," he explained, his voice quiet and bordering on shy, "because I was hoping to get a last addition from the artist herself."

She gaped at him. "Y-you mean—?"

"Your flower, yeah," he confirmed.

Her mind went wild with the mere imagery of her flower there, tattoo'd on his arm and kept there for the rest of their lives. She even touched the spot, a shiver going up her spine at the raw emotion coursing through her.

Meeting his gaze, she reached out with her other arm and held his shoulder, whispering greedily, "Later."

He smiled in agreement, replicating the gesture by holding her shoulder as well. "Later."

They pulled each other in and kissed again, their "creative session" long forgotten while neither of them minded.

[allegra-writes]

"On the balcony"

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex.

"You're perfect, and everything in between

Keep moaning, 'cause we're making a scene

Keep going, until they tell us to leave"

Notice me - Role Model

"Oh, god…"

"Shhh" His hot breath on the back of your thighs sent shivers down your spine, "You have to be very quiet, princess. Can you do that for daddy?" 

You nodded your head, not realizing he wouldn't be able to see it. You were too far gone to use words anyway, too drunk on the heady cocktail of adrenaline and desire, too drunk on him.

On his big, calloused hands trailing caresses up and down your naked legs, slipping under your dress, pushing it up and up, over your ass, bunching it at your waist. On his lips, his teeth, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at the pliant flesh of your cheeks. 

On his wicked tongue, wet and hot even through the lace of your gossamer-thin underwear, that you had picked out just for him, and now he was taking great pleasure in ruining.

"Tom…"

Your soft sigh was almost imperceptible, you couldn't even hear it over the pounding of your own heart inside your chest. But of course he heard it. His tongue left you, but you didn't have time to complain before one of his long, dexterous fingers tugged your underwear to the side, toying briefly with your clit only to ghost over your entrance a second later, teasing you but never penetrating you. 

He felt your sharp inhale, no doubt about to whine or complain, but you caught yourself in time. It was worth it, if only to feel his lips trail kisses up your naked back as he stood up to tower over you. 

"Very good, baby" He breathed, husky, against your ear as you managed to keep perfectly still while he buried two fingers as far as they would go into your soft, velvety heat. "Just like that… nice and quiet. Prove to me that you can be a good girl taking my fingers in silent, and maybe… maybe I'll let you have my cock" 

It was an empty threat, you knew that by now. If you were to break and moan, whine, or even cry out, he would just slap his hand over your lips, muffling the sounds as he bent you over the railing, fucking you hard and fast in punishment. Good girl or not, there was no way you were leaving that balcony without christening it the same way you had done every other room, piece of furniture or surface, horizontal or otherwise, in that, your new house. Your safe haven. Your sanctuary. The little piece of paradise he had built just for the two of you. 

No, you knew he would never follow through, but that wasn't the point. The point was that you liked the praise. You liked being his princess, his angel, his good girl, as he did bad bad things to you. And Tom was quite aware of that. He loved seeing you bending over backwards to please him, to cater to his every whim, to obey his every arbitrary rule as he made it increasingly impossible for you. 

It was absolutely perfect, you were absolutely perfect. 

"Yeah… Just like that… such an obedient little thing…" Tom savored the effect his words had on you, your walls delicate squeezing his big fingers, the new wave of wetness falling on his palm like sweet ambrosia, like candy; you tasted just as sweet. A part of him wanted to keep playing with you, to drive you crazy, torture you until you begged for him to take you, debase you in the filthiest, lowest of ways you could think of.

But another, more powerful part, hungered for you, needed you even more than you wanted him. It had for the whole night, ever since you stepped into the garden in that shimmery, backless blue dress, designed with the sole purpose of testing his sanity. 

So far, it was a losing battle. 

The cacophony of music and party sounds downstairs drowned the sound of his zipper and belt buckle being undone, so you didn't realize what was happening until he was sliding his thick cock inside you in one long, slow and controlled stroke. 

"Fuck," your boyfriend broke his own rule, cursing out loud as he bottomed out, "you feel so good… being inside you is pure heaven" 

Understatement of the decade. There was a hunger, an ache in him whenever he was as much as six feet away from him. A heartbreaking longing that could only be fixed by having you like that, in his arms and all around him.

"You feel-ah… You feel amazing too" 

You could practically hear the smile in his voice as he started moving, unhurriedly but harsh. Deep and measured.

"Really now?" 

A sigh was the only reply you could munster, eyelids falling shut by their own accord, head falling back in pleasure.

"No no." He tsked, "Don't close your eyes… look at them" 

You did as he said, trying your best to focus on the housewarming party still going strong in the garden. On your family and friends, blissfully ignorant of what was going on above their heads. 

"All it would take is for just one of them to look up…"

There was no disguising the shiver that shook your body from head to toe at his words. You felt his dark chuckle against your back,

"Oh, but you would like that, wouldn't you? Them seeing us… I would like too," he confessed, "you look positively stunning when I fuck you"

He licked your ear, from lobe to top, and you swore you tasted blood, from how hard you were biting your lip.

"And no one… absolutely not anyone, can fuck you like I do, can they?" 

You shook your head. But he wanted more.

"Use your words, angel"

It was a trap. Of course it was, cause as soon as you opened your mouth, you felt his fingers dig into your hips for leverage, as he started thrusting brutally, his cock splitting you open in the best of ways. Your lips parted in a silent scream.

"I asked you… a question… princess" Tom demanded, punctuating every word with a hard, almost cruel stroke.

"Ah… yes…" you gasped, "yes, daddy. No one… never…" 

"Look at you, so obedient" He praised, "I think you deserve a reward… you deserve daddy's come"

"Oh god, yes" You almost came right there and then, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around his thick shaft, almost driving him to a climax of his own. 

"Ask me nicely, then" he commanded, his movements becoming erratic, "ask daddy nicely to fill you with his come…"

"Please, daddy, fill me with your come" You half murmured, half whined, not even concerned about the volume of your voice anymore. You needed it, you were so close, you could almost taste your release. And you wanted him to come undone with you.

"Take my come, princess… and come with me" 

You did, burying your screams against his palm, just as he buried his against your shoulder, no doubt leaving a mark. 

Tom pulled out of you, fixing your dress before taking into his arms, stepping inside the room, so you both could collapse on the king size bed.

"That was…"

"Absolutely amazing" he finished, once he could catch enough breath to talk again, "just like you, my angel" he brought your hand to his lips, placing sweet, reverent kisses on each of your knuckles.

"No. Just like you… Tom, you're a dream come true"

His replying simile was nothing short of breathtaking. It never failed to marvel him, the fact that you loved him back. The fact that you were his, such a wild and free creature surely ought to be elusive. But you had willingly let yourself be caught by him, and far from feeling trapped, you had actually liberated him. It wasn't the first time you had done something like that: You had let him fuck you on the back of a limousine, finger you under the table at the Met gala, sneaked your hand down his pants on the dancefloor… The list went on and on. 

He felt even more free with you than when he was a bachelor. 

For so long he had run away from commitment, from love. Now all he wanted was everybody to know he was yours and yours alone. 

Just like you were his.

"We should probably get back to the party before they start wondering where we disappeared to…" 

This time, he was the one letting out a bratty whine,

"I know… I don't want to, but I know"

"Do you think anyone saw us?"

Your boyfriend shook his head,

"The balcony is too dark, and the music is too loud, so I honestly doubt it" 

You breathed out in relief.

"Ok. Let me just grab a jacket and we'll go downstairs"

Tom frowned,

"Why? It's a very hot night… are you feeling alright?"

"I am, don't worry" his concern made you smile, "It's just someone left a hickey on my shoulder…" 

Far from looking guilty, a mischievous glint illuminated Tom's icy blues.

"Don't cover it" It wasn't a request. You were ashamed at the weakness of your knees in response to his dominant tone: he had just fucked you, you couldn't possibly be horny again. He was turning you into a nymphomaniac.

"No?"

"No" He confirmed. They might not have seen him taking you, right there under (or above) their very noses…

But they sure as hell would know what you just did. 

[luimagines]

Date Night with The Chain Part 2!

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Four, Wild and Time!

Content under the cut!

Four

A sigh leaves your lips as you finally sit down after a long day.

There was a large stone jutting off of the side of a cliff where your group had decided to camp for the night. It had a high vantage point and the entrance was hidden by the surrounding foliage, making it a cozy secluded resting spot for ten weary travelers.

Your feet sighed with relief with the weight off of the them and you began to kick them back and forth. After some moment to yourself you pull your legs in and take off your shoes. 

You resume kicking your feet into the wind, more relieved than you were before without shame.

“Rupee for your thoughts, my darling?” You hear him come up from behind.

“No thoughts, head empty.” You snort and glance over your shoulder. “Join me?”

Four has his hands on his hips as he stands there, watching you with a calm smile and hearts in his eyes. “If you’d have me.”

“As if I could ever turn you away.” You look back out into the distance, pointedly ignoring the commotion of Legend tackling Warrior in the background.

Four doesn’t even try to hide his laughter when he sees what’s happened but comes to sit by your side regardless of what is happening with the others.

You watch him as he lowers himself down and are only marginally confused when he shifts to sit on his hip instead- oh no wait- Four leans over after shifting his body around to place his head directly into your lap.

You grin and waste no time in running your fingers through his hair, taking his hairband out and letting it all fall across your legs. “Comfortable?”

“Best spot, hands down.” Four snuggles a little close and turns his head to look beyond what the rock has to offer.

The sun has begun to set and even if your friends are busy losing their minds in the background it surprisingly easy to tune them out with Four by your side. As the sky turns from blue to orange and reds with the feint outline of purple at the top, you and Four watch the day end with gentle smiles on your faces.

On a whim you begin to braid his hair, letting them collect in number even if it’s messy and unorganized. 

“Having fun?” Four sighs and pokes your knee a little.

“Yes.”

“Good... Feels nice.”

You can’t help but grin to yourself and wait a minute before undoing it all and starting over with more purpose in mind. “I wish I had flowers or feathers or something... Maybe some ribbon... Make it look pretty and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“And stuff.”

“Why not use my head band?”

“It’s too big and if I’m going to use ribbon it should be made out of silk or satin, only the highest quality of materials for my love.” You say and lean over to give him a kiss on his forehead.

“I don’t think it’s necessary.” Four raises an eyebrow and you can see that he’s on the cusp of falling asleep.

Everyone is tired.

“Maybe not but I say you deserve it, so it must be so.”

“I love you.” Four mumbles sleepily and you know that a this point if someone were to wake him up he’d be grumpy until the next morning.

“I love you too.” You smile and let him sleep against you.

The sun sets and it’s nice.

Wild

“Do you need any help?” You walk up to Wild as he’s beginning to take out whatever ingredients needed to get dinner started.

You stand a little ways behind him and wait for him to turn around. He pauses from arranging the vegetables and glances over his shoulder to look at you.

You smile as pleasantly as you can and laced your fingers together behind your back, trying to look at innocent as possible, trying to visually butter him up to let you help him.

Wild knows what you’re doing. You do this every time.

And every time he melts a little on the inside at your genuine joy and want to help him out. Not to mention that he thinks it’s cute and would give you his everything in a heartbeat before you could even ask.

“Of course you can help.” He grins and stands up. “I have to check the fire but do you think you can peel the potatoes and carrots for me please.”

“Sure!” You skip ahead and take his spot, picking up the peeler he left out and begin to get to work. 

“Thank you.” Wild smiles as he turns away again, picking the fire and checking the temperature. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“If you could cut them too, that would be nice.” 

“Are you asking me to?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

Wild smiles to himself at the exchange. The others are minding their own business, tending to their weapons or licking their wounds from the day and just simply hanging out with people who know what it’s like to be the hero more than any one in the history of Hyrule.

It’s nice.

Domestic even.

You start to hum a little tune that must be from your home because it seems like no one else can recognize it. It’s light and a little sappy if the way you’re swaying your head has anything to say about it.

Wild feels himself fall a little more in love with you, even if you’re not looking at him.

He’s been done with checking the fire for five minutes, but he doesn’t want you to stop for the sake of answering him again.

But he should probably start cooking the meat while the vegetables are being prepared.  

Wild slides over to your side and picks up the Shekah Slate from where he left it. He chances a glance at you and thinks... it’ll be a last minute change to the meal he’s prepared in his head, but maybe he’ll cook your favorite tonight instead.

You deserve it.

“Ok, what else Master Chef?” You look his way and blink, instantly going a little red in the face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just love you is all.” Wild leans in and kisses your forehead, snagging the cutting board from under you and spinning around to throw them into the pot.

“Hey...” You pout, trying to save face and failing. “That’s... not fair...”

“How is it not fair?” He laughs. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I... refuse to let you win.”

“Win what? What are you talking about?”

You step over and kiss his cheek. “You’re too good to me. And the carrots are going to burn.”

“Wha- Hey!” Wild spins back to attention and tries to save the carrots from the hot metal. “Ok- I- Hold up!”

“Do you want me to start cutting up the green beans too?” You smirk.

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes or no?”

“...”

“...”

“..Yes please.”

Time 

“Ok, I know you said we were going somewhere tonight but why are we sneaking out of the inn like teenagers?” You say as Time looks around the corner.

“Shh...” Time puts a finger to hip lips as he looks back at you. “Do you really think the boys wouldn’t try to follow us if they knew?”

“Is it that important for them to not come?” You tilt your head. Sure, they were a bit rambunctious at times and a bit more rowdy than you knew what to do with but they were good kids and you loved them all- so the secrecy was a little lost on you.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend an evening alone with the one I love?” Time turns to you and takes your hands in his, lifting them to kiss your knuckles. “Just for tonight?”

The thought of being alone together hadn’t even occurred to you and it’s embarrassing to have Time basically spell it out for you. A blush blooms across your face and you bite your lip with a quick glance to your toes. It has nothing to do with the kiss, you’re sure.

“Ok.” You whisper. “Ok, I’ll be quiet. Is the coast clear?”

Time smirks when he sees your reaction, more than pleased with himself before he turns around and checks around the corner one last time.

He grins and gives you his hand, holding you gently as you creep through the hallways together. After a few twists and turns and near trips from walking on your tip toes, you make it out of inn.

You ignore the weird looks from the inn keeper as you leave. They don’t understand the length the boys would go through to spy and/or ruin this for you two intentionally or otherwise.

Time looks up to the window of one of the room you’ve rented before pushing you quickly out of its line of sight.

You follow him wordlessly and look back just in time to see Warrior lean up against the window. He’s not looking out, merely resting where the people below can see him but the thrill of not being caught shoots through you and you force yourself to act natural and look away from the inn entirely.

“What the plan, beloved?” You shoot a grin his way and skip to match his pace.

“I don’t have one. I wasn’t entirely sure we’d get this far.” Time admits and lets his child like glee show on his face. 

Your heart swells when you see it. It’s not often you get to see this side of him and you’re happy to indulge him in these moments when he has them.

“We could just walk around?” You pull yourself closer to him and lean against his side. “Sight see? Shopping?”

Time lets go of your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist and pulls you even closer so that you’re flush against him. “I’m not sure... I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Wine tasting?” You try again, pointing to the sign outside of a small hole in the wall shop.

Time actually stops in his tracks and glances at the shop in front of you. “A brilliant idea darling. Shall we go have a look?”

“We shall.” 

Together you walk into the shop despite the later hour and see couples with the similar idea and calmly sharing drinks with one another. Time breaks off from you as you wander further into the space. You glance around the sparely decorated room and glance at the various signs and bottles to see their designs. You pick up a bottle and swirl around the liquid inside, watching it rise and fall against the green colored glass.

Time comes back in seconds, glaring at one of the other persons without your knowledge when they try to make a move closer to you. 

“Here.” He takes a calmly breath and hands you a glass. It’s halfway filled with a warm colored amber liquid and it piques your interest instantly.

“Thank you.” You take it and take a sip. It’s as warm as it looks and strangely smells like strawberries.

Time finally looks at you again when the person leaves and takes a sip from his own glass. It’s more crimson than you’d imagine possible and you have to wonder how it would taste. “Can I try?”

“Hm?” Time looks at the glass and back to you, handing it to you with out much thought.

He tries to it with your own but you’re faster than he is. You lean into his space on your tip toes and place a bold kiss on his lips.

They’re soft and laced with the tangy wine from his previous sip.

“Yum.” You wink and take another sip from your own wine.

Time stands there stunned before he smirks and takes you hand with the glass away before leaning down to kiss you properly. He takes it slow and holds you there for a moment despite the fact that you’re in a public space.

He pulls back just as slowly and finishes with a final kiss to your forehead.

“Can’t do that with the boys around.” He mutters to himself.

“Nope.“ You giggle and go back to sipping your wine. “But I’m not complaining.”

Part 3

[robininthelabyrinth]

"The Untamed", but Jiggy has a white cat whom he tells everything.- May or may not be sentient or 'spiritual' like Fairy in the book. (From an idea I've thrown around with my friend @yraelviii)

ao3

He found the cat in Qinghe.

“What are you doing here?” Meng Yao said, crouching down to try to scoop out the little handful of white fluff underneath his cabinet only for it to bare its infantile fangs and him and hiss, moving its butt around as if it thought his fingers ought to be running in fear from its fearsome pounce. “How did you even get in here?”

The cat – a kitten, really, small and scrawny, dirty and covered in ashes as if it had just run out of a forge, but no less passionate for it – squirmed in his hand as he picked it up.

“Who owns you?” Meng Yao asked, and the cat hissed viciously as if to shout no one owns me!

Something about that echoed in Meng Yao’s heart – no one owns me, he thought – and so he fished up some extra meat from his plate, filled a small platter with water, and used the sleeve of an old outfit that needed to be taken to be laundered anyway to wipe the grey ash off of the cat’s white fur while it was distracted by sniffing suspiciously at the food and water that it ultimately declined to consume.

“Just this once,” he told it.

-

Doing good work will often only bring you more work, Meng Yao reflected, and so it was with the cat as much as with anything else. He still didn’t know how the cat managed to get into his rooms, and he sometimes dwelled on paranoid suspicions that there were hiding-holes in his chambers designed to allow others to spy on him, just as there had been in certain rooms in the brothel – though even at his worst moment of uncertainty and doubt he didn’t really think so. He knew that it wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s style even if Meng Yao had been someone important enough to care about, and anyway he didn’t question his own ability to discovery such a thing if it had really existed. He’d checked.

At any rate, however it kept getting into his rooms, the cat was now a regular presence there, lurking around.

It didn’t want to be petted and greeted all attempts to feed it with utter disdain, but despite its general standoffishness it seemed to like being in the same vicinity as Meng Yao, enjoying nothing more than to settle haughtily by the window in his room and watch over Meng Yao as if it thought he might get lost without its supervision.

Meng Yao thought it was probably someone’s pet gotten lost, or maybe even just a feral cat from outside (Qinghe had a fair number of them) that had figured out that it could access the good life by going inside, but it was very hard to sincerely worry over the ill-intentions of a cat, and he was already very busy.

If he didn’t need to care for it, then it wasn’t adding to his troubles. Let the cat sit where it liked!

Meng Yao had found that life in Qinghe was both different and similar to life in Yunping, the only life he had to compare it to, and it amused him to think of the great and righteous Nie sect as an overly large brothel, with the main difference being that they sold their strength where women sold their bodies. In both places there needed to be order, someone to sort things out and tell people where to put things and what to do; in both places Meng Yao, with his quick mind and excellent memory, his sense of understanding people and anticipating their needs, was utterly invaluable in arranging such things.

He had, admittedly, expected it to take a little more time to climb up to the top – the only person he couldn’t understand in this place was Nie Mingjue, who was far too easy to deceive and smiled at him like he really thought they were friends instead of just being master and servant, who appreciated his talents and told him so, who shrugged off his mistakes and had faith that he would do better, who ignored his status instead of lording it over him the way Meng Yao had expected him to. Even when he was angry, when he shouted and slammed his hands against things, Nie Mingjue never once mentioned Meng Yao’s background, and the only things he seemed to hold against him were his own mistakes.

Meng Yao still didn’t know why Nie Mingjue would act so rashly as to promote someone he had just met to a position as high as viceroy, much less actually trust him, but it didn’t really matter. However quixotic his method of reaching a place of power, he was here and his next task was to keep his place until he’d made a reputation for himself.

Part of that he did through his work, good critical work that people needed and which had always won him gratitude even if not respect, but the other part of it was in cultivation. That was the way in which the Nie sect was not like a brothel: you couldn’t just be clever, you couldn’t even just be beautiful - to be respected, you had to cultivate.

Not that wanting to cultivate was a problem for Meng Yao.

He’d always had a memory like a sponge and a body that obeyed his every wish, his childhood of mimicking the beautiful dances of his mother and her ‘sisters’ serving him well in transitioning to learning the sword even if he was years behind everyone else; his mother had bought a thousand fake cultivation manuals for him and he’d learned them all, each one of them more useless than the next, and now that he was here in the cultivation world at long last, he was finally, finally, finally able to cultivate for real.

Using Nie sect methods, of course, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.  

He’d started as soon as he could when he arrived, endlessly grateful that the Nie sect provided training sabers without cost, and he’d snuck one away back to his room so that he could practice on his own time, knowing it would take a long time to form his golden core. He’d debated with himself for a long time as to whether or not it was worth it to invest in a real one – if the training sabers were free, then real proper Nie sabers were somehow three times as expensive as the swords you could buy in the marketplace, and you could only put in a deposit without any notion of when you’d actually get the saber, apparently subject to the contrary dispositions of the spiritual weaponsmiths that made them.

In the end he decided to go for it more or less on a whim, emptying out his hard-built savings to place the order, even though he knew he would one day need to discard whatever they made for him in favor of a sword.

The Jin sect would accept him one day. He would make them.

(If the Nie sect cultivation style was good for one thing, he thought as he went through endless drills of slashing and thrusting, it was that you could work out your anger while you were doing it. There was nothing quite like imagining the face of someone you hated and then bringing down the practice saber in a vicious slash, and oh, but Meng Yao hated so very many people.)

The cat liked watching him train most of all, although Meng Yao suspected it was because seeing him jump around panting was funnier than watching him sit at his desk and gracefully write out letters. It would occasionally start purring, a sound a little like a crackling fire, and eventually Meng Yao got into the habit of going to run his fingers through its fur as a reward for himself when he successfully completed a training sequence.

After a while, he started talking to it, too.

“That commander,” Meng Yao said as he brought the training saber down. His real saber was still on the order, probably stalled purposefully; the smith assigned the task was probably one of the people that thought they were too good to deal with him because of who his mother was, and it’d all been a waste of money in the end. Completely a waste, even if Nie Mingjue had smiled so happily at him when he’d heard about Meng Yao placing the order, his eyes warm and soft and how had that man survived so long in this wretched world of politics and pain, didn’t he know he would always be deceived and betrayed?

Why should he be the exception to the rule, when everyone else had to suffer?

Meng Yao threw away the unhelpful thoughts and thrust the saber forward, as if piercing his invisible opponent straight through the chest.

“That commander.” He minutely corrected his form and stabbed again, this time as if piercing through the belly: a gut wound, a slow and awful way to die. “He’ll regret what he said to me.”

The cat’s purring intensified.

Meng Yao briefly had the wild thought that it approved.

“I just –” Another thrust. “– need to figure out –” An overhead slash. “– how.”

-

Meng Yao ended up taking the cat with him when he left Qinghe.

It probably was someone’s pet and he was opening himself up to a charge of stealing, a charge he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against now that he no longer had Nie Mingjue’s protection –

(Nie Mingjue who had wept tears and blood at what Meng Yao had done, betrayed at last after having finally encountered a deception he could not swallow, who had banished him from the Unclean Realm even after everything Meng Yao had done for him – who had, despite it all, still hidden an entire bag of gold and Meng Yao’s favorite Qinghe snacks in Meng Yao’s things with a short note claiming that it was for unpaid wages. As if Meng Yao had ever let a single pay period go by without claiming exactly what he was due. As if Nie Mingjue still cared despite throwing him out, as if he worried about how Meng Yao might live, as if he hadn’t given up the privilege of caring about things like that – )

He didn’t really care.

He wanted the cat, so he took it. It was the least Qinghe could do for him.

The cat spent all its time in his new rooms in the hotels he stayed out as he traveled: in his bedroom and study, the little gardens that, when available, he liked to use to train in the mornings and evenings. It would even follow him when he took a bath (although that was with great reluctance on the part of the cat, and only if Meng Yao were taking an especially long time in the bath and the cat was worried he’d drowned, yowling angrily as if it could revive him through the power of its voice). If it had once belonged to someone else, it now belonged to Meng Yao, and Meng Yao didn’t give away anything that was his.

“I’ve made worse mistakes,” he said defiantly to the cat, which blinked at him from its side of the carriage he’d used some of the gold to rent. “It’s only that I don’t want to review them in order to think of which ones those might be.”

The cat got up, stretched its back, and walked over to butt its head against Meng Yao’s hand before turning and going back to its spot by the window.

Meng Yao wasn’t sure if that was a sign of agreement or if the cat just thought there was a treat in his hand. Not that the cat had ever accepted treats from his hand.

He still wasn’t sure what the cat ate, actually, but he was sure the cat would make its feelings known now that they weren’t somewhere with a dependable kitchen, though he supposed there was always the possibility that it would start picking up hunting.

“Wen Chao said that they’d aimed at the Cloud Recesses,” Meng Yao said, deciding not to dwell on the things of the past. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about Nie Mingjue’s betrayed eyes or the snacks he hadn’t even known Nie Mingjue had known he’d liked, about the hand-me-down guans and trinkets that Nie Huaisang had insisted were part of his wardrobe when he’d helped him pack even though he knew Nie Huaisang still wore them sometimes, about the fact that he should have been ordered to take the Nie sect’s braids out of his hair when he passed by the gates for the final time since he didn’t deserve them anymore but the two disciples there had just nodded at him and let him pass without a word – nothing to do about the saber he’d ordered, still on the list to be made, and maybe if he made something of himself out in the world alone he would one day come back to claim it at last. “That’s where we’re going now. Lan Xichen might be in danger. I have to help him.”

The cat made a sound like it was considering hacking up a hairball.

“He was kind to me,” Meng Yao said, feeling defensive. “The only one who never judged me –”

Since he’d decided to forget about Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, wiping it out of his mind as if it had never been, that was even true.

“– and he’s a proper gentleman, a good man. I’ll help him.”

That Lan Xichen was also a powerful man was something he wished he didn’t think of, but he couldn’t help the way he was.

“After I help him, I’ll figure out what to do next,” Meng Yao said, like a liar, and the cat looked at him like he was stupid – which he was being, because of course he’d already planned out what to do next, figured out his next move, and there was no point in lying to a cat about it. Meng Yao had skills that were only useful in management, not labor, and the only thing he left to sell was information about the sect from which he’d just been ejected. “No one owns me, right? Let it be the Wen sect.”

The cat did not purr, but it didn’t condemn him, either.

That would have to do.

-

It was a good thing that Meng Yao’s cat was self-sufficient, he thought, because he had neither the time nor the stomach to feed it during his time at the Wen sect.

If he had thought he had worked hard at the Nie sect, he now knew differently: at least there the worst he had faced from his colleagues had been disdain and not outright murder attempts, back-stabbing and undercutting to try to show off to Wen Ruohan, and all the while the man himself demanded more and more from him without the slightest care for his own well-being. He was grist to the mill for Wen Ruohan, no matter how much the Chief Cultivator enjoyed having another man’s prized deputy as his own – Wen Ruohan might had been very nearly driven insane by the Yin Metal, but he still remembered old grudges – and it was night and day away from Nie Mingjue’s reliance on him that was based on trust, rather than reluctantly satisfied suspicion and paranoia.

Meng Yao had hidden the cat as best as he could from the start, thinking rightfully that people would try to use it against him, and to his relief it seemed that no one else had yet laid eyes on it and identified it as his own, despite its white fur standing out like a beacon to his sight. Unfortunately there were some people that had managed to figure out that he had a cat, even if they didn’t lay eyes on it themselves, and he’d had more than a few incidents in which someone had left poisoned meat out on the floor by his room in order to catch it.

The cat seemed as unimpressed with that as anything else.

Instead, the cat seemed to have taken up hunting as its pastime. It brought back the corpses of small birds, the Yin Metal-infused little spies, full of resentful energy, that Wen Ruohan had developed for his sons to use. At first Meng Yao worried about the cat getting somehow poisoned by them, but time went on and it seemed to be fine, even thriving. It had grown into a proper cat now, no longer a kitten, and it enjoyed licking its white and shining fur until it was gleaming.

It didn’t like Meng Yao’s training sessions as much – he trained with a sword now, two-faced just like him, and in a dozen different styles, Wen and Jiang and Jin, always Jin – so sometimes Meng Yao would go back to doing the old Nie sect style again, knowing the cat would recognize the familiar movements, and it was a surefire way to get the cat to purr.

The Nie sect style was also still the best for getting out anger, all aggression and sharp movements, and Meng Yao still had a lot of anger inside of him. He was starting to think he always would.

At least here in the Nightless City he could kill the people he hated, as long as he did so in low and dirty ways that didn’t trouble Wen Ruohan or interfere with his plans, and yet every time he did it, he felt no relief, only a vile and wretched stickiness that came, perhaps, from that awful Yin Metal that he had schemed over yet couldn’t seem to escape.

The cat didn’t like the Yin Metal one bit. It hissed and scratched, and in one notable incident seemed like it was going to pounce on it directly if Meng Yao hadn’t caught it mid-leap and shoved it into his sleeve before anyone had noticed it.

“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Meng Yao told the cat next time he trained, using the soft sword he’d hidden away for a time of need to hack and slash in the Nie way, which didn’t work with a soft sword at all but which made him feel strangely better. He was currently imagining Wen Ruohan’s head underneath a saber, his head and the heads of all those corpse puppets he’d created. “I will cut you loose if you do that.”

The cat rolled onto its back and showed its soft and fluffy belly, which only the truly unwise would seek to lay a hand on – Meng Yao still had scars – and Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “No one owns you, not even me. But do me a favor and don’t screw this up for me. Not when I’m so close.”

Lan Xichen had been accepting his letters and feeding them to Nie Mingjue, who trusted as blindly as he ever did. Meng Yao wished sometimes that he didn’t, that he would learn, that he would put some defenses up on that stupid reckless heart of his, but on the other hand it suited his plans very well that he didn’t.

Soon, he thought. Soon.

Soon he’d know what he needed to do.

-

“Now he chooses not to trust people,” Meng Yao complained to his cat. “Now. Now!”

The cat purred.

It wasn’t that Meng Yao (damnit, Jin Guangyao, he had a new name, he was Jin Guangyao now) couldn’t understand Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to trust him – fool me once, fool me twice, but three times seemed to be the other man’s breaking point – and in some ways he understood it more than ever now that he had been accepted back by the Jin sect, clothed in the gold he’d always deserved to wear.

Jin Guangshan hadn’t lost much in the war, not like the other sects, and the second it was over he was already scheming. Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was pulled right into the thick of it at once, less for his spying capability than for his sheer disposability, the fact that Jin Guangshan wasn’t willing to burden his pure and righteous heir with black matters that he was more than happy to taint the son of his whore with. With Nie Mingjue, general and hero of the Sunshot Campaign, representing the only real threat to the Jin sect’s domination, even if he didn’t want to be, Jin Guangyao was bound to be in opposition to him.

It made sense for Nie Mingjue not to trust him.

It irritated him regardless.

Still, lack of trust or no, Nie Mingjue had succumbed to Lan Xichen’s impassioned arguments and had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, even if Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue’s primary motivation was to keep a better eye on him and scold him the way he did Nie Huaisang. It would be politically beneficial to Jin Guangyao to be tied in such a way to Nie Mingjue – it would suit his own desires as well, though that was less important – and so he had of course agreed as well, and he was planning on going to their oath ceremony in the outfit he had chosen for himself, gold from neck to foot, a sword he’d taken from the treasury since no one would order him one of his own, and a hat on his head like the ones his mother so admired to make up for his lack of height and to hide the Nie sect braids he still habitually wore underneath.

An old habit, and one he really ought to break, really. Ideally before Nie Mingjue figured it out and told him to cut it out.

There was a knock on the door, a familiar pounding, and the cat looked up, intrigued, even as Jin Guangyao sighed voicelessly to himself. Perhaps he had waited too long.

Perhaps it would be better to make a clean cut in this way, too.

He opened the door.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he greeted, thinking to himself that it would only be a few more hours before he was entitled to call the man da-ge as if they were nearly equals and how strange that would be. “Can this humble one help you?”

“Can I come in?” Nie Mingjue asked gruffly, his eyes lingering on Jin Guangyao’s uncovered and Nie-braided hair, just as he might have expected. Had expected.

Jin Guangyao nodded and stepped back, allowing him in, and closed the door behind him. “Could I get the sect leader some refreshments?” he asked politely, but Nie Mingjue seemed to have come to a stop right in the entranceway, surprise written all over his features. “Sect Leader Nie?”

Nie Mingjue was staring at Jin Guangyao’s cat.

“…Sect Leader Nie?”

Did Nie Mingjue not like cats? There were an endless number of feral cats in Qinghe, so it seemed implausible, and yet, here Nie Mingjue was, looking at the cat like he’d never seen such a thing before in its life.

Of course, at that exact moment, Jin Guangyao’s cat, the traitor, hopped off its pillow and went straight to rub itself against Nie Mingjue’s leg, purring like a little maniac.

Jin Guangyao stared at it, feeling thoroughly betrayed by what he would have previously said was his thoroughly unsociable cat, who had taken years to warm up to him enough to give him half the attention it was now bestowing freely on Nie Mingjue. Was this the heavens deciding to mock him for his earlier betrayals?

Alternatively, Nie Mingjue might just be very good with cats, which Jin Guangyao could believe. Perhaps he even carried in his pockets some of the Qinghe vine that cats were said to be so enamored of, although certainly Meng Yao’s cat had never once before shown an interest in such things before.

“…what’s its name?” Nie Mingjue croaked, voice hoarse. He was still staring fixedly at the cat, looking as though his entire world had shattered around him. He hadn’t even looked so unsettled when Jin Guangyao had so viciously mocked him at the Nightless City, and at the time he’d thought he was going to die and be turned into a corpse puppet to murder all his loved ones.

Jin Guangyao was tempted to say something rude or facetious, something like ‘I just call it Cat, why, do you name random cats?’, but the cat had been a good companion of his for a long time now and he couldn’t do that to it, even if he was currently planning on taking an extra long bath to force the cat to miserably linger by the door to the bathing room, screeching in unhappiness at the wet, but bravely (if grumpily) supervising him to make sure he didn’t drown.

“Hensheng,” he said, because that was in fact what he’d named it – it meant hatred for life, which was not exactly an auspicious name but which had stuck from the very moment he had thought it up – and waited to hear Nie Mingjue’s judgment. “It’s not normally quite so sticky,” he added in an attempt to save some face. “With most people.”

“Well, it’s me, that’s different,” Nie Mingjue said, and maybe the man really was just the human incarnation of the plant cats liked so much. Meng Yao really wouldn’t put it past him. “You...you cultivate in the Nie sect style? Still?”

Jin Guangyao blinked, surprised by the change in subject.

“Yes,” he said, a little hesitantly. He cultivated many styles now, although it was always the Jin sect style when he was in public. But he still had all the anger in his belly to vent – even more so now than before, anger at his father, anger at Madame Jin, anger at his brother born to a blessed life, anger at all those disciples that sneered at him even after he’d been legitimized, anger, anger, anger – and the Nie sect style had always been the best for that.

And anyway, it made the cat purr.

“Is that a problem, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said, and when he turned to look at him his eyes were warm and soft the way they’d been all the way before the fiasco with Xue Yang, shimmering with tears of joy and a smile that seemed to come straight from his heart, the foolish easily deceived man. It was so unexpected that Jin Guangyao actually took a full two steps back, his jaw dropping a little. “I’m happy for you. Very happy.”

He actually wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, dashing away the tears.

“You should come back to the Unclean Realm to pick it up when the brotherhood ceremony is done,” he added nonsensically. “I can’t imagine how long it’s been waiting for you.”

“…what?” Jin Guangyao said. “Pick up what?”

“Hensheng,” Nie Mingjue said, which – what? “Your saber. Hensheng.”

His saber?

The saber he’d never gotten, having been banished from the Unclean Realm before the order was finished, the one he’d spent all his savings on just in putting in the deposit, the one he’d never actually finished paying off? He remembered it, of course, and sometimes it still itched under his skin that he’d never gotten what he was owed because everything that was owed to him he deserved to get in the end. But…

“Hensheng is my cat,” he said.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “That’s not a cat,” he said. “That’s a saber spirit.”

Jin Guangyao’s gaze dropped down to the cat.

The cat that never seemed to eat anything or drink anything, that never once fell for the poisoned meat or accepted his offers of treats, that no one in the Nightless City had ever seen with their own eyes; the cat that could consistently get into his rooms despite there being no holes for it to enter, as if it had simply passed through the walls like a ghost.

Like a spirit.

The cat, which purred whenever Jin Guangyao practiced the Nie sect forms, swinging a saber with rage in his heart.

The cat to which he had confessed all his anger, all his frustration, all his rage, all the feelings he never gave to any human being around him – the sabers of the Nie sect thrived on such emotions, those feelings that encouraged them and strengthened them, developing the saber spirits that made each one of them a spiritual weapon unlike any other, with power and rage infused into the very blade.

Saber spirits, which only those born into the Nie sect or adopted early, raised in their ways, one of them, could form.

“A saber spirit?” Jin Guangyao said weakly, and his knees suddenly didn’t seem strong enough to hold him; he swayed and Nie Mingjue stepped forward quickly, catching him by the shoulders to steady him. “I cultivated a saber spirit?”

“The saber is back in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Mingjue said, not without kindness. “It was only ever waiting for you to pick it up once you developed the spirit, so that you could introduce the two.”

“It hasn’t been – I would have thought it would have been thrown away, or repurposed –”

“It’s a Nie saber, Meng Yao. It won’t obey anyone else ever again, not in this life; it is yours, yours alone. When one day you die, it will be buried with honor in our saber halls, just like all the others.”

The cat looked up at him and purred.

No one owns me, Jin Guangyao thought – the first thing the cat had said to him, and he’d always had a good understanding of what the cat wanted from the very first. No one had owned that wild spirit then, but it had stayed by his side, at first from curiosity and later from habit, and it was his now.

His, and no one else’s.

“Will you come pick it up?” Nie Mingjue asked, hope in his eyes. “Will you come home, if only for a little while?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said. “Yes, I will.”

-

Later, Jin Guangshan told his son to kill Nie Mingjue, that fool who trusted too much and didn’t know when he was being deceived, finding him in his rigidity and righteousness too much of a burden on the power he planned to wield.

Jin Guangyao bowed as deep as he could, a smile on his lips, saying nothing, and the next day, when Jin Guangshan went to the brothel as he always did, drinking tea served by his son the way he always did, he never did figure out why his heart had stopped.

(The saber Jin Guangyao began to wear openly after the funeral – a gift from his sworn brother, he said with a smile, in remembrance of his time at the Nie sect – purred in pure satisfaction.)

[ghirahimbo]

beginnings

a non-specific take on how the Link and Ghirahim master/sword AU might come about. I probably won't post this one to ao3 yet in case I decide to use it in a story someday, but I liked it enough to put it here, at least :)

--

In the Sealed Grounds where the demon hordes had trampled the earth so recently in their violent rampage, the transition to silence was complete. The whistling chirp of birds, the buzz of insects… even the wind through the trees had gone deathly still, all caught up in breathless waiting. Only the pool of inky darkness at the center of Demise's broken prison seemed to breathe, pulsing slowly in and out with uneasy life. Small though it was compared to the spiraling pit containing it, the darkness pulled at the cloud-covered twilight as if its strength alone might dim it. Consume it.

At last, the dark pool recoiled in agitation, and from its churning depths emerged a boy in a green knight’s tunic that had certainly known more pristine days. Bloodied and bruised, yet swaying triumphantly as if standing itself was a triumph, Link stumbled out of the pit’s embrace, adjusting his wet hat to fit more firmly over the mess of hair still dripping from his watery battlefield. The sky above seemed to captivate him, and he craned his head back to stare at the darkened clouds, half in wonder, half in disbelief. Then the hilt of his sword flashed, and a shimmering blue woman emerged to float in front of him.

“Master,” she said, catching his attention. “With the defeat of the demon king Demise, there is a 95% chance that your friend Zelda has already regained consciousness.” Her voice softened almost imperceptibly. “I believe I can say with 100% certainty that she would like to know you are well.”

Link stared at her for another moment, scrubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Of course,” he murmured, and for the first time, he grinned. “Let’s go.”

Strengthened by his anticipation, Link broke into a limping run, eager to put the forsaken pit behind him—but before he could take more than a few steps, a new voice froze him in his tracks.

“Wait.”

Heart sinking like a rock, Link whirled around, one hand hovering warily over the hilt of his sword as a new figure emerged from the retreating darkness. Ghirahim’s skin glimmered like polished obsidian in the fading light, smooth and unmarred except for where fiery cracks split his chest, and a glowing diamond at its center pulsed an erratic, angry red. Cradled against his shattered core was an enormous black sword, its sharp edge not even scratching the skin where it rested against Ghirahim’s hardened arms.

Milky white eyes met tired blue in a silent clash, as if neither had the strength necessary to put words to their feud. Then, without warning, Ghirahim hefted his sword, driving it point first into the softened earth and falling to one knee before it.

“Take it.”

Link blinked, and took a wary step back.

“…What?”

“Take it.” Despite his clear exhaustion, Ghirahim’s voice had that same teasing bite to it as always, coupled now with impatience as he gestured towards the sword. “You defeated my old master Demise, which means his sword is yours to claim. Take it.”

Link stared at him, dumbfounded, and a slow smile curved across Ghirahim’s thin dark lips.

“Let me put it this way,” he said pleasantly. “This sword belongs to you whether you wish it so or not, but things will go much more… smoothly… if you take it now.”

Link shook his head as if to dismiss the notion, fixing Ghirahim with a glare.

“I already have a sword,” he said coldly, starting to turn aside, but this time a light chime from Fi made him stop.

“Master Link,” she said, her cool voice strangely gentle. “I’m afraid that I was not created to remain by your side forever. The demon king’s remaining essence is now sealed within my sword, to be carefully guarded until it is eradicated. The time of our parting will be soon.” She hesitated, and added, “Very soon.”

The first drops of rain began to fall, scattered and sparse. Link stared at Fi incredulously.

“You’re not saying I should trust him,” he said, not really a question, and Fi shook her head.

“Such judgments are not mine to make. I can only report that I sense no immediate intent to do harm from Lord Ghirahim, though whether he hopes to deceive you is less clear. Any further statements would be mere conjecture on my part.”

“Would you mind conjecting then?” Link asked, pursing his lips. After a moment, Fi nodded.

“Master Link…” Her words came with slow reluctance now. “Despite the foreordination of our partnership, I was still given the privilege of choosing you as my master. If what Ghirahim says is true and his sword has passed ownership from the demon king to you, I must surmise that he was not granted that same privilege of choosing Demise.”

“If what he says is true,” Link repeated, sparing another glare for the still-kneeling demon lord. Ghirahim had so far watched their exchange in enigmatic silence, not quite smiling, though he half raised an eyebrow at Link’s scowl. The steadily increasing rain slithered unnoticed in rivulets down his face, striking against his arms with short, metallic plinks.

“I stated that I could not discern whether he hopes to deceive you in some way, and this is true. However…” She paused in consideration. “I do sense a newfound connection between you and that sword, as well as between you and Lord Ghirahim himself. My opinion is that he is telling the truth, in this regard, at least.”

Link stared at her in dismay, and Ghirahim laughed softly.

“Your robotic guide is right, I’m afraid," he murmured. "I’ll have you know that you were not my first choice either, but I think we both know better than most how little control we have over the whims of destiny. Never in this sword’s history has it passed to a human, but it appears our thread of fate has some twists that even I could not predict.”

“There is no thread—“ Link started to say hotly, but let it go with a sigh. Even he could see how pointless finishing that sentence would be. “I suppose you come with the sword, then?”

“I am the sword,” Ghirahim said, his pale eyes glittering. Link paused only a second before nodding. After bearing Fi for so long, he understood how that worked, at least.

“If…” Link took a deep breath, glancing again at Fi. “If I take you with me… what’s to stop you from trying to kill me still?”

“I am physically incapable now of even harming you,” he said, and Link’s eyebrows shot up. A possibility much easier to disprove than prove, but…

“What about Zelda?” he demanded, and Ghirahim’s grin widened.

“On your orders, I would go so far as to guard her from harm, and catch her each time she stumbles,” he said smoothly. Link’s face darkened.

“What about—“

“Master, must we really go through every order that I will or will not obey?” Ghirahim cut him off irritably. “I will obey them all, insofar as I am able. Was it not the same with…?”

He gestured vaguely towards Fi, who looked at him.

“Fi is the designation I was given,” she said, prompting a tight grin.

“Wonderful! I didn’t need or desire to know that.”

“Wait,” Link interjected, his mind spinning slightly. “...You called me master.”

“Is he this slow all the time?” Ghirahim asked Fi incredulously. “How do you put up with it?”

Link let the insult slide, still reeling as he tried to gather his thoughts. Would Ghirahim really debase himself so far just for a chance at revenge? There were other, easier ways to go about it if that was his aim, ways involving less personal humiliation. Fi thought he was telling the truth—about some things, at least—which maybe meant…

“What am I supposed to do with that sword, anyway?” Link said abruptly. “It’s too big for me to even…”

The protest died in Link’s throat as for the first time he really looked at the sword, and licked his lips. Without his noticing, the sword had shrunk in size, though it managed to appear no less menacing despite that. If Link were to hold up his Master Sword in comparison, he doubted that there would be a hair’s difference in length.

“I told you,” Ghirahim said, and Link had to fight down a shiver that he told himself was from the rain. “My sword belongs to you now, Link. Take it.”

Once more he looked at Fi, silently questioning, but if she had an opinion on the matter her blank face gave no voice to it.

“Zelda is waiting for you,” was all she said… and somehow, that was enough.

“Fine,” Link sighed reluctantly. He didn't want to find out at that moment how Ghirahim might try to force him if he refused, and Fi was right. It was time to go. “I accept your sword.”

Trudging forward, Link grabbed it by the hilt, thinking that if worse came to worst, he could still throw it off a cliff somewhere—and felt a terribly familiar warmth surge through his palms as he pulled it free, traveling up his arms to settle somewhere in his chest. A tightness fell from Ghirahim’s face that Link hadn’t noticed until that moment, and he bowed his head forward, pressing a hand delicately against his mangled chest.

“The bonding process is now complete, master,” he said, and despite the formality of his words he had a mocking twist to his lips. “Link… my master.”

Thunder boomed overhead as lightning forked viciously across the sky, the rain falling down in sheets. Link, staring at his own black sword, noticed none of it.

[unmaskedagain]

I’m Just your problem (But please tell me i’m a winner)

Okay so in my defense of this story, you didn’t actually say who you wanted to be the center of the story. And I kind of got inspired the second I heard the song and just ran with it. It’s a one shot about and staring Lila. So... yeah. Hope you enjoy it though. @abrx2002

I’m the winner!

Lila knew it didn’t have to be like this. It never had to be like this. She didn’t want to bury Marinette in the ground but little Miss Goodie Goodie just couldn’t leave well enough alone. So now Lila had to bury her with just a few words.

           She couldn’t been Marinette’s friend. She wanted to be Marinette’s friend. Before even meeting the girl, the entire class had spun a tale of just how fabulous Marinette was. Lila had looked forward to meeting her, becoming her friend, and using her power to rule the class and school together. They could’ve both won. It would’ve been easy.

           Too easy apparently.

Because never, not even, once did Marinette want to be her friend. She never even gave Lila a chance. Lila the villain in Marinette’s story as far as the other girl was concerned.

Nice guys finish last.

That’s why I win.

I’m the winner.

           The Little princess in pink swore she just didn’t like liars. But everyone told lies, even the perfect Marinette. (Especially Marinette) It was a fact. So why was Lila the one she called out? What was so wrong with Lila that Marinette couldn’t just leave well enough alone.

“Marinette didn’t like liars,” Lila scoffed. “Or maybe she just doesn’t like me!”

           Which was a blow to the Italian girl’s pride. Because Marinette liked everyone. She gave everyone chances. Even Chloe! The girl who bullied Marinette and everyone else in class far worse than Lila could’ve considering doing herself.  If a spoiled rotten girl like Chloe deserved another chance (and another and another and another) but Lila didn’t get one, how rotten did Marinette think Lila was?

           Maybe the lies weren’t the problem like Lila suspected. Maybe the issue was that she didn’t bow and cater to Marinette’s everywhere like the rest of the class seemed to do. They treated her like some goddess.

Is that what Marinette wanted? Did she wanted Lila to worship at her feet? Treat her like she’s perfect like her stupid little friends did? Loyal little lackeys that they are.

Were, Lila thought viciously. A few grand tales, some golden promises and they were at my beck and call. I won.

           How’s that for friendship, Maribrat? How does it feel to know the friends you cared so much about turned on you with just a few words. Does it hurt? Does it sting?

Will you finally admit I’m better?

I’m worthy?

That I won?

Am I worthy of your friendship now?

           Lila thought Marinette would stop then. After she turned everyone in class against her. Used the faculty’s foolishness to get the Marinette expelled. (Though it was reversed). The girl had lost everything. What was hers was Lila’s now. From bestie Alya, to meek pushover Adrien, to her place at center of class’s love and affection. It was Lila’s now. Because Lila won.

           And the Italian girl thought it was a matter of time before Marinette came crawling back. A bit of time before she stopped calling out Lila for lying and just went with it. If she did, then Lila would be benevolent enough to stop accusing her of being a bully, coach the class into re-friending the poor sorry Marinette.

           It never happened. Instead of begging and pleading to be Lila’s friend like Lila expected.

Wanted.

Needed.

Admit defeat.

Admit I beat you.

Admit that I won.

           Marinette stopped looking hurt at all the nasty words her friends (Ex-friends, Lila thought viciously) were spitting at her, the girl started smiling at her phone, texting, giggling. She hardly ever batted an eye anymore. The only times she called Lila out on her lies was when Lila said anything directly involving Marinette.

           She seemed to wash her hands of her classmates. Lila could only watch as she befriended other students from other classes.  Classes where Lila had no influence. Friends that didn’t fall easily to little small fibs.

Friends that were smarter that her last ones.

More loyal.

Better.

           While the class rightfully worshiped at Lila’s feet now, Marinette moved on to bigger and better things. She played a new game; one that Lila couldn’t win.

It wasn’t fair!

I already won!

Me! I did.

I won!

Student council. Fashion Club. Powered, a club for future female CEOs. She started her own design website. She went on amazing trips and met people Lila could only dreaming of meeting and constantly lied about. Marinette slowly but surely became one of the most popular girls in school.

While I dwindled in mediocrity.

Forced to deal with her stupid ex-friends.

Forced to only lie about things I’ve done.

Forced to watch you do them.

Forced to watch you rise like a star.

Forced to watch you WIN.

           Marinette would have rather befriend the entire school, everyone and their entire mother, than to debase herself by admitting defeat and bending to Lila’s whims, getting her friends back in the process. Nope. She rather waste her befriending insignificant morons than be Lila’s friend. It was proof alone how much she hated Lila.

           She just used the lies as excuse to cover up the thousands of reason she must’ve hated Lila. Marinette didn’t want Lila to apologize for lying.

She wants me to apologize for not being like her!

Sweet. Perfect. Angelic.

           Sorry, that Lila wasn’t made of sugar, spice, and everything. Sorry that’s the stupid reason for anyone to not like someone. To go out of their way to avoid them.

           Anyone else would crumble at what Lila threw at them.

They had.

Three. Four. Five. Girls

All were left nothing more than a puddle of tears after I was done with them.

I beat them all!

I won.

           But Marinette had gone from those, precious hurt and betrayed faces, to looking at everyone in class like they were just an inconvenience. Like Lila was a minor inconvenience to her day.

But I had won!

I know it!

She can’t just play a new game.

I won.

           Every day, she looked through Lila like people look at extra credit math problems in a class your already Acing. She could solve it, put in some minor effort, and fix it but what was the point?  Marinette clearly had better things to do than to worry about her ex-friends, her ex-crush, about Lila; minor little problems in her otherwise PERFECT little life.

           Lila was just a problem to Marinette. Not a friend, not an enemy anymore, just a stupid little problem. Not even a real person. Just a problem, she couldn’t even be bothered with anymore.

No! Marinette was too busy being elected Spring Queen at the Sweethearts dance.

Too busy on Claude, the star football play, the future Oscar-winning film maker, the most popular guy in school’s arm. The king to her Queen.

           And to think Lila had be waiting, patiently, so very patiently, to see the devastated look on Maribrat’s face when she got to the dance and saw…

           Adrien and Lila were at the dance, together, as dates; the perfect couple. Marinette was suipossed to be so, SO, heartbroken.

She never batted an eye.

She even told Lila how nice she looked.

           And then went on her way. Because Lila wasn’t worth anymore of her time or energy. Like Lila hadn’t taken everything from her.

Like I hadn’t won.

Like I hadn’t beat her.

I did. I know I did.

I beat everyone.

I win at everything.

Marinette just wasn’t playing right.

It was the last time Marinette looked her way the entire night. She was too busy with her perfect friend, her perfect boyfriend, living her stupid perfect life. Being crowned Queen. Lila had broken every mirror and reflect surface in her room. If Marinette didn’t want to look at her problem than neither did Lila.

This wasn’t how winners acted…

           After the dance, Lila had tried to get closer to the other kids in school, Marinette’s friends. But they didn’t bat at an eye at her. Had only given the barest looks of amusement, and pity, at her attempts.

           It got so bad that Lila almost believed the lie she told the class about Marinette turning the school against her.

           Truthfully she knew that Marinette couldn’t have been bothered to. She was too busy. Too busy to worry about the drama in their stupid little class.

Stupid busy for me!

           No, she went on her day like Lila didn’t exist.

I exist, damn you.

I’m here.

And I beat you.

I won!

           The more she ignored Lila the worst Lila got the class to treat her. Exile her. Got them to get Bustier to get kick Marinette off the school field trips.

           Not that it bother Marinette. She just stopped helping fund raise. Went on jaw-dropping trips with her new friends. Ignored the sneers and glares from her ex-friends. Like nothing bother her. None of them matter.

           None of them were important enough to matter to her! Lila wasn’t important enough to matter to the great Marinette.

Is this how you treat people who beat you, huh, Maribrat?

You ignore them?

Pretend they’re not there.

SO you can pretend I didn’t win!

           Lila wasn’t going to apologize for beating her fair and square.  She wasn’t going to stop lying, tell the truth, and beg for Marinette’s friendship. Because what would that really do?

It would be a forfeit.

It would mean I didn’t win.

           And really it wasn’t like she did anything wrong, right? If anything Marinette should be thanking Lila for revealing the true colors of her so-called friends, of her crush. Not that Lila was trying to justify anything. Because she didn’t have to.

I won, after all.

           Lila won so Marinette shouldn’t be ignoring her in class, right? She shouldn’t act like nothing Lila did phased her. Like Lila didn’t exist. Lila shouldn’t have to be the one to make amends, right?

History is written by the victors.

And I won!

           It wouldn’t matter even if she did. Marinette had always hated her, had always been out to get her, had disliked her the moment she laid eyes on Lila just like Ladybug.

           Lila had always been on Marinette’s blacklist. And she had done so many things, she couldn’t even remember what landed her there in the first place. It was something stupid, probably. Something so minor, some little lie that Marinette was to uppity to forgive, to let go of.

It was her problem, not mine.

           It was all Marinette’s fault, right? It was all her fault! So NO! Lila wouldn’t admit defeat. She wouldn’t stop lying. So why do I want to…

           Lila would rub everything she took from Marinette into the other girl’s face. Maribrat would break eventually. They always do. They have to, right? No one could deal with losing so much in such a short while. She’ll admit she was wrong, right? That She should’ve bowed down and accepted Lila as her friend, as the class’s new sweetheart. She’d admit Lila won then, right? Lila beat her. Lila was and is and always will be the winner.

I won!

I beat her.

           So there! Lila won, that was it. That was how the game ended and how the story would too. She’d marry Adrien, make Alya her maid of honor just to rub it in Marinette’s face that Lila had everything she ever dreamed of.

           Then she’d admit Lila’s won. Because Lila always wins! She already won, after all. Marinette just refused to be a good little loser and admit it…

           Lila won.

I’m the winner, right?

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga We’re Going Down

part 12

masterlist

Hello, my darlings! I have an update for you!  Please enjoy the drama that will be unfolding in this chapter as well as the chapters to come.--- chaotic puff

Y/N was grateful for the extra money her new job brought in, but it didn’t make the new found separation with her son any easier.  At least once a weekend she was called away, and it was usually overnight. It was hard on both of them. Eun Jae didn’t understand why his mother was away so much, and she hated seeing him upset. It was why she was taking the time to take him to the park. 

She should have been working on some project or another, but she was much happier watching her son run around the playground with a wide smile on his face. He loved the park, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she didn’t get to take him there more often. Today was a perfect day for it though. It was unseasonably warm, and Eun Jae could run around in a lighter jacket instead of his heavier winter coat which gave the little boy more ease of movement as he dashed around the playground. 

Y/N was lost in her thoughts watching her favorite little guy when she noticed the other moms beginning to whisper amongst themselves. She didn’t pay it much mind though as she assumed it was just the latest neighborhood gossip. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been whispered about before either. She was an unwed mother. It got her plenty of ridicule from the other moms. What was odd was how they had started to gather around, moving closer to where she was. She knew well enough that they weren’t going to suddenly welcome her into the fold, so why were they getting closer? 

“Y/N?” 

She froze knowing who she would see if she turned around and hoping against hope that he would just disappear. He didn’t. 

“What are you doing here?” she hissed running to face him. 

“I just want to see him. Is that so bad?” he asked pasting on the most contrite pair of puppy dog eyes he could manage. 

“Yes!” she cast a quick glance over her shoulder making sure that Eun Jae hadn’t noticed anything yet. He hadn’t. He was blissfully unaware and running around the playground with the other toddlers. “You can’t be here.” 

“I just want to see him. He’s my son.” 

“Kim Taehyung.” she snapped, shooting him a withering glare. “He is not your son, and you need to go.” 

“He’s my kid.” he pleaded, peering around her trying to catch sight of the little boy. “I just want to meet him.” 

“That’s not your decision to make.” she squared her shoulders and did her best to make the same stoic, terrifying face her grandmother made when she was displeased. “You should leave.” 

Taehyung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared her down. Neither of them was willing to budge, but unlike Taehyung, she had paternal rights. “You can’t make me go.” 

“I can call the cops and say that there’s a strange man harassing me and my child.” her head tilted to the side sassily as she waited for him to back down. 

“Like the cops would believe that the heir to Singularity Enterprises was harassing you. I can promise you they won’t.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt him.” 

“Take a look around, Taehyung. You really think you belong here?” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips casting her gaze around her neighborhood. It wasn’t a bad area per say, but it certainly wasn’t what Taehyung was used to, and he stood out like a sore thumb in his designer clothes. They were already attracting the gazes of the other moms. “Eun Jae certainly doesn’t need another parental figure to dip in and out of his life like the utter failure they are. So you want to meet him now? What’s going to happen in a month when you get bored of playing house?” Taehyung stared at her in shock. People didn’t talk to him like this. “Do us all a favor and go.” 

“I’m not going to abandon him.” he protested, recovering himself. “He’s my kid.” 

“Great! Where were you the past three years?” 

“I wasn’t allow…” 

“Don’t.” she scoffed. “You’re a grown man. You could have been here if you wanted to.” 

“I’m here now. I want to meet him.” 

“How is that fair to us?” 

“How is it fair that I don’t get to be a part of his life?” he countered. 

“You signed away your rights before he was even born. He doesn’t know you, and he doesn’t need you.” 

“Every kid needs a father.” 

She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose as she did her best not to yell at the man. “He’s a kid, Taehyung, a baby. He doesn’t need anymore disappointing parental figures. You want to be here now, but what happens when you get a family of your own? Eun Jae is always going to be your teenage indiscretion, but he’s my whole world.” 

“He’s not…” 

Before either of them could continue, a little body smashed into her legs wrapping little arms tightly around them. 

“Swings, eomma!” he demanded staring up at her with a bright smile. 

Both adults were frozen staring down at the little boy. Taehyung was the first to recover, kneeling down to the toddler's height with a bright, boxy grin. 

“Hey, buddy.” he greeted not even phased as Eun Jae retreated hiding behind his mother’s legs as he stared at the stranger with wide eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.” the little boy said nothing, choosing instead to cling to his mother’s legs even tighter than before. “I’m Taehyung.” 

Eun Jae ignored him, pulling on her tunic-like shirt instead. “Swings?” he asked again, staring up at his mother with big pleading eyes. 

“Okay, baby.” she hummed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Let’s go to the swings.” 

The toddler nodded furiously reaching up to grab her hand, tugging her towards the playground. “Swings, eomma, swings!” 

She followed behind her child praying that Taehyung would get the hint and leave. Eun Jae had in typical fashion for the toddler, rejected the stranger preferring the company of his mother, but Taehyung didn’t seem to care as he followed behind them a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Eomma.” Eun Jae tugged on her hand again. “Who’s the weird man?” 

Y/N did her best to suppress the laugh that bubbled up, but she didn’t quite succeed. Instead a choked chuckle like snort erupted. “He’s just a weird man, baby.” 

“I’m a friend of your eomma’s.” Taehyung interrupted catching up to them and addressing the toddler with a smile that just didn’t seem to get any less bright no matter how many times they both rejected him. 

“No you’re not.” he frowned, glaring up at the adult. “Auntie Nina is eomma’s friend.” he explained, his brows scrunched up in confusion. 

“Eomma can have more than one friend.” The look on the kid’s face told them both that he didn’t think so. It was a blank expression that looked far too similar to Taehyung’s for her comfort, and it didn’t escape Taehyung’s notice either. “He kinda looks like me doesn’t he?” He smirked, staring down at the child proudly. 

“No.” Eun Jae frowned. “I look like Eomma. Halmeoni said so. You’re a weird man.” he pouted, once more clinging to his mother’s legs. 

“You can look like more than one person.” Taehyung explained even though Eun Jae only buried his face into her leg. 

“I don’t want swings.” He whined reaching his arms up in a silent plea to be held, and Y/N complied, swinging the toddler up onto her hip where he promptly buried his face in her neck. “I don’t like him. Wanna go home.” 

Y/N gently bounced him on her hip, hushing him as his little fingers clenched her shirt. “You wanna go home, Jae Jae?” She cooed, rubbing his back with her free hand as he nodded into her neck. “Okay, baby. Let’s go home.” 

“Y/N.” Taehyung called out, reaching for her as she began to walk away.

“I think you’ve done enough for one day.” She hissed, tightening her grip on her child. “Don’t you?” 

She strode away, hyper aware of the stares of both Taehyung and the other mothers as she did. This was going to be the talk of the playground for at least a week or two, and Y/N wasn’t looking forward to the invasive questions she would get asked the next time she and Eun Jae went there. 

Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but she moved more quickly than she would have normally as she took her son home. She was rattled. As much as she hated to admit it, she was rattled. She didn’t like Taehyung showing up in her neighborhood, at her park. She didn’t like the fact that he ignored her wishes and met Eun Jae. 

If she had wanted them to meet, she would have prepared. She would have explained things to the toddler. She would have arranged things so that they were in a safe and comfortable place for both her and Eun Jae. She certainly wouldn’t have suggested he ambush them at the park. 

The fact of the matter was that she  was Eun Jae’s mother, and she was the only one that had parental rights. Ha Jin didn’t, and Taehyung certainly didn’t. He didn’t get to decide what was best for Eun Jae. He didn’t get to show up on a whim. He didn’t get to uproot their lives because he suddenly decided he wanted to be part of the life of a child he couldn’t have given a shit about until he ran into her the week before. 

“Eomma?” Eun Jae asked as she unlocked the door to her apartment. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Pororo?” 

“Sure, buddy.” She agreed, kicking off her shoes and shutting the door behind them, before taking off Eu Jae’s shoes as well. 

The toddler was quick to run into the apartment and settle himself in front of her small television as she put on the cartoon for him. It was one of his favorites, and she couldn’t blame him. The penguin was pretty cute. 

“Eomma?” he called as she went to the kitchen to get a snack for him. 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“Cuddles?” he pleaded, staring at her with big puppy dog eyes. 

She smiled, handing him a little bowl of dried mango slices. “Sure, buddy. Eomma just has to make a quick phone call first. Okay?” 

He nodded, flopping back down with his snack as he turned his attention to the cartoon penguin and his dinosaur friend. 

Y/N moved back to the kitchen pulling out her phone as she considered what she was going to tell Yoongi. She was meant to go to his concert, but she didn’t feel right leaving Eun Jae, not after what had happened at the park. Part of her was terrified that Taehyung was going to show up while she was gone and take him away. 

“Angel?” Yoongi’s raspy voice asked from the other end of the line.

“Hi.” She sighed out shakily. Yoongi was quick to pick up on it. Nothing ever seemed to slip past him.

“Is everything alright?” Concern colored his tone, and she could hear people moving around in the background. 

Part of her felt bad for calling when she knew he was busy preparing for his concert, but Eun Jae had to come first. He always had to come first. “I’m so sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it to the concert.” 

There was a drawn out pause, and she could practically see the scowl on his face. 

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, voice lowering into a growl. “Are you alright? I can send Jackson…” 

“No!” she was quick to stop him. “No. I’m just not feeling well. I just need to stay home and rest.” 

It was a lie, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Are you alright? Do you have a fever? Do you need to go to the doctor?” he demanded, and she was half convinced he was going to come to see her himself if she didn’t cut him off soon. “I’ll send Jackson over to take you to the doctor. I’ll set up an appointment…”

“That’s really not necessary. I just need to rest. I’ll be fine in a day or two.” she promised, knowing full well she was perfectly fine now. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. I’m sorry for missing your concert.” 

“Just get better.” he sighed heavily. “You can come to the next one.” 

“Thank you.” 

“If you need anything, call.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

She hung up shortly after not knowing the mayhem she had caused for Yoongi’s staff. The mixture of her cancellation and worry for her health had put the rapper into a horrible mood. A worried Yoongi wasn’t a pleasant Yoongi.

part 13

[filterjeons]

only you | kth

✦ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

✦ summary: you didn’t like getting jealous but it was hard not to, especially since taehyung is the man of every girl’s dreams. luckily, he convinces you that he has his eyes for only you

✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors

✦ genre: smut

✦ word count: 10.4k

✦ warnings: hard dom!tae, dirty talk, rough sex, degradation, spanking w paddle, orgasm denial, usage of toys (vibrator and anal beads), oral (m and f receiving), handcuffs, daddy kink, sadism/masochism, cumplay??, hand kink, aftercare 🥰, poor y/n acting bratty 😔, slight slight angst (nearly non-existent), yeri and joy being my spirit animals, and cute ending <3 (tf was that warnings list….n e ways)

You scoff at your boyfriend talking excitedly with your co-worker Irene about an art museum that opened up downtown. As you swirl your straw into the whipped cream of your strawberry milkshake, you mentally kick yourself at your look for a hang-out with your friends. The light blue dress was no match for Irene’s more mature pantsuit which suited her body well. What’s worse was you wore your iconic pigtails, instantly making you look like a child compared to everyone else’s more sophisticated clothes. Even Taehyung, who was just wearing a black T-shirt that fits his form well and beige pants, looked ten times better than you. 

You typically have a lot of self-confidence because after years of being bullied for looking like an elementary schooler, you didn’t have time to mope about yourself and you slowly started to not care anymore but today you feel it all goes down the drain.

“I think Van Gogh’s art is one of my favorites because…” you drown out their conversation and place your head on your hands with annoyance etched all over your face.

“What’s wrong, Y/N~?” Yeri teases, shaking you affectionately. You only grunt in response, which made your close friend giggle. “Is it that time of the month again?” You nod (although it was a lie) as you keep staring at Taehyung and Irene, feeling your stomach do somersaults whenever you see them laugh. Although Taehyung had an intimidating demeanor, he was very sweet and made friends easily. Good for him, since he could make friends with the entire town if he tried. Unfortunately for you, he was prone to many girls being drawn to him like a moth to light and constantly asking for his number, only to give you looks of disgust once they found out that you were his girlfriend. 

Why is he dating some girl who looks like a high school freshman?

Are you sure she’s 20? She looks like a 14 year old!

You absolutely hated that you were treated as a child. The looks you received whenever you walked down the street with Tae already made you feel uncomfortable. You knew you were never good enough and you were terrified that he’ll leave you for someone else, causing your jealous tendencies to kick in. There were plenty of fish in the sea and yet he chose you. You were surprised that he hasn’t broken up with you for your much hotter senior Irene.

Irene and you just strictly had a professional relationship, especially since she was above you in the workplace, and the only person she had a crush on is Kang Seulgi, the founder of a local dance studio near the building where you work. After your work shifts, you would sometimes stop by and watch kids train to be artists, reminding you of the dreams you once had when you were young.

Although you would give anything to be on a stage performing for millions of fans, you were content with your job as a fashion designer and be with your boyfriend who’s such a big flirt. 

“Did anyone tell you that you look like a 6th grader because you’re short and have no boobs?” your other friend Joy cackles, finding your annoyed reactions a source of comedy. Yeri chimes in with the harassment as they continuously made fun of your stature. You immediately throw French fries from Taehyung’s plate at them, embarrassment and anger bubbling inside you from the all-too-familiar teasing. It was different because you were close to Joy and Yeri but it still hurts as they were much more beautiful than you. You couldn’t compare to any of the sexier and mature girls and you didn’t like that way. 

“Aww, don’t say that! She’s still very gorgeous to me and trust me, her boobs are nice,” Taehyung smiled, placing your head on your shoulder. You relished in his praise before realizing that you were mad at him as you immediately pull your head up and look away from him. He looks back at you with confusion on why you were acting that way. Maybe something happened at work or you’re just having a bad day, but he wants to help you in the best way that he can. 

“TMI, man!” Yeri gagged dramatically, Joy following suit as they started to goof around. You would join them but you were still upset. Irene liked girls and Taehyung only had eyes for you so why were you so jealous? Despite your constant second-guessing, your heart was set that you were mad at him, even though the reason was extremely childish. Irene softly chuckled at you three before turning Taehyung’s attention back on her. 

“So, would you like to go to the museum with me sometime?” Irene asked calmly, somehow acting like nothing’s going on. Your insides were fuming, knowing that he’ll say yes because of how sweet he was. You grip Taehyung’s hand, trying to signal him to refuse but when his head bobbed up and down, you knew it was no use. 

“Yeah sure, let me know what time you’d like to go!” he smiled politely to which Irene returned the same

Oh no he didn’t. Not only will the town gossip think that your boyfriend dumped you for Irene but what if he starts to have feelings for her and throw you away? If there was one thing you loved the most in the world, it was Taehyung and you just weren’t ready to let him go.

You’re acting so stupid. It’s just a normal friendly hangout- Despite your head’s protest, you got up dramatically and glared at the two of them.

“Uh y’know what, I’m going to go home now. Irene, I’ll email you the designs for the future lineup and Taehyung, I hope you have fun hanging out at the museum or whatever. If you ever need me, I’ll be in my room by myself and I don’t want you near me,” you spat, immediately getting up and storming out of the diner. You knew you were acting extremely immature and some part of you regret it but how come he doesn’t like it when you interact with your guy friends but it doesn’t work the other way around? 

“Y/N sweetie-” he tried to go after you but you were already out of the door. He sighed with frustration, annoyed that he didn’t get to explain his side. 

“I think we should cancel since your girlfriend’s upset. I’m sorry, it was wrong for me to ask you to hang out and I know that we see each other as friends only. I just wanted to ask you because I was thinking about taking Seulgi there and she really likes art plus I figured Y/N would enjoy that kind of date,” Irene sighed, regret forming in her eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’ll talk to her, she’ll understand once she hears the full story.” Taehyung bids the girls farewell and runs after you. Irene gives him a nod as Joy and Yeri sit uncomfortably. 

“Well, who’s gonna pay the bill?” Yeri shrugged and all eyes were immediately on Irene, who only replied with an eye roll. 

You refused to come out of your room for the rest of the day, still holding onto that grudge. Taehyung was getting annoyed at your lack of communication, he initially tried to get in by baking your favorite cookies but you didn't budge. You didn’t like ignoring Taehyung as well and you would rather be in his arms instead of sewing dresses for work but your petty heart didn’t want to let go.

You tried reasoning with yourself but once you’re set on something, you can’t get yourself to go the other way. As you stitch pieces of fabric together, the temptation grows even more.

Eventually, you couldn’t be cooped up in your room forever so as you sneakily made your way down to your kitchen to get some of Taehyung’s cookies (although he didn’t know how to put on an apron, he was an amazing baker), you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and his body behind yours. You gasped at the shock as his low chuckle vibrated against your back.

“Got you baby!” he grinned, hugging you tightly. You wanted to melt yourself into his embrace and beg for his forgiveness but a part of you wanted to prolong the chase and continue to be a brat because inside that sweetheart is a scary hard dom, and you wanted to see him turn aggressive. His duality always kills you and as much as you love being sweet and soft with him, his dominant aura is always your favorite. 

“Leave me alone,” you grumbled, trying to push him off but he still kept on, even when you’re trying to go back to your room. 

“I’m not going to let you go~,” he said in a sing-song voice, clinging onto your back like a koala. You debated to yourself if you wanted to do this and on a whim, you did what would be one of the scariest things in your life.

“Leave me the fuck alone! Go away, I-” you growled, using your force to push him out and that’s when you immediately knew you fucked up. 

“Go on, repeat those fucking words,” Taehyung’s voice suddenly dropped extremely low, thanks to him being a baritone as he turned your shoulders around to face him. His eyes were now filled with anger and lust and you felt sweat dripping down your back, you knew you were in trouble. 

“I-I-” you couldn’t find the courage to talk, your heart was pounding against your chest and you knew that you can’t make a comeback so you immediately got into your submissive position on your knees, fear evident in your face. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy! I-I didn’t mean it-” you blubbered, knowing that he’s not going to go easy on you tonight and you were terrified of what was to come. 

Taehyung only scoffed and pulled you up, dragging you into your shared bedroom by your hair and manhandling you onto your bed on all fours. You felt your heartbeat a billion times faster and you tried sticking your ass out to feel him but to your dismay, there wasn’t his familiar warmth. He was on the other side of the room, going through the black box in his closet that kept all of your toys. You tried decorating it to at least make the outside look cute but it still looks intimidating inside and out. 

“You’ve been such a brat today and it made Daddy so fucking angry. Now tell me baby girl, why am I mad at you?” 

“U-um, I was jealous towards Irene, I was overreacting, I didn’t talk to you about it, and I was a meanie bitch and ignoring you.” “Do you wanna know why Irene asked me out that time? She wanted to go because she was thinking about taking Seulgi on her first date there and she asked me to visit it with her to see if you might be interested in going with me sometime. I assume you already know that Irene liked girls but you were jealous for what? Do you not believe me when I say I love you everyday?” You felt your heart drop to your chest as you started to cry with embarrassment and shame on how you acted. You definitely shouldn’t have stormed out without an explanation and here you are paying the price for it. 

“I-I’m sor-” “I’m not accepting any apology from you tonight because it’s my turn to be mad. Don’t think you’re getting a break tonight because the only way to make up for what you did today is to take everything that I give you. Are you going to obey or be the naughty slut that you’re always are?” he suddenly appeared next to you and growled deep into your ear, nibbling your earlobe. You nodded quickly, your panties slowly becoming wet as butterflies started to fill your stomach. 

He felt your panties underneath your dress and scoffed at the slick coming out. “Stupid fuckslut likes that? Of course she does because she’ll do anything just to get a cock stuffed inside her. What a shame, I thought you were a good girl but I guess I was wrong. You’re just a dumb little baby.” You mewled quietly at his degradation, his voice was cold and cruel but it was such a turn on. 

“What’s the safe word, honey?” “S-star-” “Alright then, fifty slaps with no exceptions. Don’t think you can bargain with me baby because I’m not going any lower,” he snarled, tearing your flimsy panties off and massaging your ass cheeks to prepare you for what’s going to come, a small act of kindness in comparison to his terrifying aura. “Count bitch.” 

You braced yourself for the sharp hit but instead of his familiar calloused hand, your ass was met with a harder sting that immediately turned your flesh red. You widen your eyes as you piece together what’s happening. Although Taehyung bought a paddle long ago, he never had any reason to use it but today was the day because of your bratty behavior. 

After that slap, it was hard for you to talk due to how sudden the hit was. Tears were threatening to fall down your face as you tried to take in the spank. 

“Did I fucking stutter? I said count,” he said sternly, hitting you again and snapping you out of your daze. 

“O-oh, one!” you cried, your ass hurting from the force of the paddle. What’s worse is that it’s a wooden one, leaving your marks and bruises for the next day. Although it’s the weekend, you were sure that you’re not going to sit properly for a whole week. Then again, have you ever sat normally whenever Taehyung fucks you? Meanwhile, Taehyung is completely enjoying the red and purple bruises that are forming in your skin as he hits all of his frustration at your behavior to your ass. It sounds completely wrong but the way your body reacts to the paddle and your choked moans and whimpers of pain is just a turn on to him. He never knew he liked having you act like this until he put you in this position, giving him all of the control. His pants started to tighten as he thinks about you attempting to walk or sit down after he’s done with you. 

You stifle in sobs as you called out numbers following the hits you received. Despite the absolute pain you felt, you could feel even more slick coming down your thighs as he continues to smack the back of your thighs and your ass. Even though a part of you is chiding you for finding some pleasure in being hurt like this, you liked the pain nonetheless. 

Apparently, your arousal couldn’t be more obvious because as he reached the halfway point of his 50 spanks, he started to notice how wet your pussy was.

“Wow, you fucking slut, you seem to be enjoying this huh? Does it turn you on? Does being in pain get you off?” he mocked, your heart taking his words sensitively. You let out a shaky moan, nodding with pleasure flowing through your body. 

“Well lucky for you because I like this as well. Honestly, I like it too much if I’m being completely honest.” You were shocked at his confession, trying to consume the fact that your sweetheart boyfriend actually liked hurting you. It was definitely a surprise but for some sick reason, it was such a turn on. Hey, maybe you two were truly meant for each other because you liked the pain that he gave you. However, that statement was a distraction from your current situation at hand. He started to slam the paddle faster, the pain hurting 10 times more and you swore that there will be splinters by tomorrow. You let out screams and higher-pitched moans from the impact, covering your face with your pillow to somehow relieve you from his actions. 

“Did you want to piss me off? Were you that much of a horny bitch that you’ll do anything to have my big cock stuffed inside you? No, I don’t have to ask that because I know you do. You’re aching in that tight little pussy from my words, huh? Even though you’re lowkey scared of it, you’re getting wet from the spanking. Stupid little cockwhore.” You could nearly cum from his cruel words, his deep and raspy voice talking to you as if you’re inferior to him. You could barely form words now as you just drooled and babbled on the pillow. 

He landed the last two hits on the back of your thighs and the top of your ass respectively. Just for the fun and pleasure for him, he gave you an additional slap with his hand and giggled at your sobs from the surprise. 

“Jesus, that was so hot. I nearly jizzed in my pants thanks to you. Seeing you in pain is such a turn on,” Taehyung muttered, sitting next to you on the bed and facing you towards him. He mockingly pouted at your sniffling face, wiping away the tears that were splattered around your cheeks.

“Are you okay? Did I go too hard?” he asked with concern, a complete 180 from what he was before as he gave you small kisses on your face. You found it so sweet how as much as he likes punishing you, he still cares so much about your safety because he is your boyfriend after all. Although the spanking was intense, you weren’t in danger and everything was consented. 

“Daddy...I’m okay,” you croaked, trying to nuzzle your face in the crook of your neck and although his eyes showed some warmth, his face turned expressionless after a minute of checking up on you.

“Did you learn your lesson yet?” 

You knew that this was like child’s play to him and he can go longer. Even though you were kind of nervous, you wanted him to snap and show his scarier side. You shook your head in response to his question, starting to revert back to your bratty self. “Well, that was nothing. I don’t know if you can handle me but it didn’t work.” Taehyung obviously didn't believe you, judging from the look in your eyes and your quick movements that you were clearly affected by the spanking. He also knew that you were lying right out of your teeth and you want him to put you in your place. Obviously, it’s what he’s going to do. He’s going to make you learn your lesson no matter how much you’re going to act up because a fact that Kim Taehyung knows is that there’s no better brat-tamer than him. 

“Hmm, I don’t think I can forgive you yet because you’re still lying like dumb little girls do when they want something. How sad, I guess you’re going to need more punishments until I get that attitude out of you,” he says, feigning disappointment in his tone. 

You felt your heart dance at his words before realizing that he has more in mind than the spanking. You whimper at his words and he rolled his eyes at you, knowing how much you’re enjoying this. 

All of a sudden, he ripped off your dress like it was nothing, the now ruined fabric fluttering lifelessly towards the ground. How was he able to tear it apart like that? Has he been working out?, you thought, especially since you swore that the dress was hard to tear. You whined at what he did, especially since it was a staple part of your wardrobe and one of your favorites. However, he didn’t care about your reactions as he easily snapped your bra into two pieces, throwing the destroyed material in some corner of the room. 

A wave of embarrassment ran through your body at the fact that you were completely bare and he was still clothed. You tried to cover your chest but it was no use as he forcefully pulled your arms away, exposing your breasts to him. 

“Your body is so beautiful, don’t be shy,” he crooned, playing with your nipples and flicking the sensitive bud. Taehyung’s face went up to your neck, kissing your sensitive spots and sucking on it to make hickeys. “But they’d look more gorgeous with my marks, huh?” You let out a shaky moan, already turned on by his ministrations and the ache between your legs growing worse but to your dismay, he ended there and got off of the bed. Disappointed at his sudden stop, you started to whine and thrash among the sheets but a sharp glare from him had you obey instantly. 

“Stay there baby girl, you’re definitely not off the hook,” he sighed, walking back to the black box to retrieve some of the toys. You inhaled a shaky breath, nervous on what’s going to happen. You tried to peer behind his broad back to see what he picked up but you could only hear his sinister chuckle instead. 

“D-daddy, what are we gonna be using?” you squeaked, hating the obvious fear in your voice because he knows that you’re nervous about what he’s going to do and use it to your advantage. Your boyfriend comes back and throws a bunch of toys on the bed, each one somehow being more intense than the previous. The handcuffs and vibrator were easily familiar to you as you’ve used them before but the last toy was what caught your attention the most. 

Anal beads?! He’s absolutely insane!, you internally screamed, staring at him with wide eyes while he brought a bottle of strawberry lube on the nightstand. It wasn’t like you were scared of it or anything, it was just so surprising that he’s going to use it on you now. You’ve heard about them from Joy who said that although the feeling was strange at first, it felt good later on and you took her word in mind. Now that the toy was out in the open, it reminded you of when you saw it in the box while you were searching for your sewing kit and talked to Taehyung about it. While you both decided that you’ll wait a bit until there was a time where it’ll be used, you never thought it would happen now (but you sort of understand as you are getting punished now).

“Are you ready honey? Is this okay?” he asked gently, rubbing your back to calm you down. You nodded, slowly feeling your nerves go away after some reassurance. 

“What about you? Do you think you’re ready?” you sassed back, the all-too familiar bratty attitude showing. “Oh, you wanna play that game? I’m just worried because you can barely take my dick but since you’ve been too naughty, you’re gonna take it like a good girl,” he teased, a blush forming in your cheeks as he settled you down on all fours. Compared to your height and Taehyung’s, he was obviously huge under his pants and although you liked getting dicked down until the next day, the aftermath is definitely not that pleasurable. 

You instructed yourself to take deep breaths, bracing yourself for the toy. 

“You ready, kitten?” he called out from behind and you nodded rapidly, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. All of a sudden you felt the first bead ram inside you, making you feel sparks of pleasure. “That’s my good girl.”

Luckily, there were a total of three beads for a start since it was your first time but the first one already felt huge. Maybe it’s due to your inability to take big stuff well but you were terrified on the other two that are twice as big.

“O-oh my god...I-“ you gasped out, trying to accommodate the small sphere into your hole. 

“Why are you acting like it’s too much for you? Come on, I know you can take more than that,” he chided playfully, lubing the second bead to insert it inside you.

“I-I- don’t know if I can!”

“Shh, you want Daddy to forgive you right? You’re my big girl, it’ll be alright.”

You let out a whine as the second was inserted, making you feel full already. Taehyung thumbs at your hole soothingly to try to make you less worried and to make the bead more comfortable in you.

He observes your state right now: your face red from the stimulation and smothered on the plush pillows, your body was bent to display your gaping hole, and your walls fluttering around the pink bead to accommodate the intrusion. Your position was just enough to make his pants feel increasingly tight and uncomfortable.

“Damn, you look so sexy,” he murmured, his praise making you feel good and embarrassed at the same time.

“One more sweetie, one more.” That was the sentence that had you in fear. Surely two beads was enough for you, it’s gonna be hard for you to take the full thing!

“Daddy, i-it’s too much! I don’t think I can handle it!” you cried but the pillow muffled your words.

“You got this, you’ve been a good girl so far,” Taehyung coos, tapping the end of the bead that was currently in you to tease you. With his praise in mind, you decided to go through it as you tried to spread your legs and push your ass out even more to make the last bead more comfortable in you.

Luckily, he was kind enough to add a large amount of lube to make it less painful while toying with the end of the previous one inside you. 

You focused on relaxing yourself so that you’re not tense and reveled in his gentle motions against you. After one more, it’ll all be over, right?

“Good girl, you’ve been such a good girl for me. One more, okay?” 

He slowly inserted the last bead, watching your hole attempt to expand and take it in. You let out a squeal, trying to fit it inside. Your boyfriend watches your fluttering walls straining around the pink toy as it stretches to fit it in alongside the other beads. Eventually, you made it fit with the aftermath of being completely plugged up in your behind.

“Hah~ oh, s-so big,” you moaned, trying so hard to fit the beads inside you. Your nerves were on fire, the toy giving you new sensations you never knew you could feel. It didn’t hurt but you felt full despite only being three spheres.

“That’s my good girl,” Taehyung sighed with content, tapping the end of the last bead to slowly push it inside you by centimeter.

“Daddy, it’s too much! I-I-I don’t think I can do it, it’s too big-“

With one quick motion, Taehyung flipped you on your back and you felt the beads push deeper in your hole, hitting your spots.

“Aww, my little slut can’t take it? Is she too sensitive? Such a little baby, you look so cute in this position, especially since you’re so sensitive!” Taehyung cooed as you let out broken moans due to the overwhelming pleasure. “You’re lucky that I’m not that mad as I was before. Keep those beads in you until I decide when I want to take them out.”

You nodded blankly, his words barely registering in your hazy mind. You didn’t know how much longer you can to, especially since Taehyung sounds like he wants to fuck you stupid. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, waving a hand over your face. Quickly snapping out of your daze, you nodded and tried to snuggle up towards him. He laughed at the cute action, playing along with the simple moment until he brought out a pair of handcuffs in front of your face. Yup, you’re still in trouble, you sighed to yourself, forgetting about why he’s acting that way.

“It’s not the furry ones?” you pouted, blatantly swallowing at the hard metal.

“You’ve done too much to even think about getting the soft ones. It’s okay, you won’t feel the pain once I make you feel good.” Obediently, you brought out your wrists without him asking and he attached the cuffs within a second. Surprisingly, he gave you a kiss on the cheek and patted your head affectionately, your all-too familiar kind boyfriend emerging for a split-second.

“You’ve been a good girl so far, keep it up and maybe your punishment will end quickly,” he murmured, massaging your sides and spreading your legs apart. You felt him kiss the inside of your thighs and kitty-licking your slit, the teasing immediately turning you on even more.

“T-tae,” Although he was barely doing anything, you already felt even more sensitive especially with the anal beads inside you. You wanted to tug on his dark black locks, at least clutching onto a part of his body, but the handcuffs made it impossible to. It wasn’t even chained to the bed but it was no use fighting against it.

Taehyung could sense how impatient you were, your hips thrusting up uncontrollably to try to at least have some more movement inside your aching pussy. He chuckled to himself at how he made you instantly want him but since he’s in charge, he gets to decide whether or not to pleasure you.

“Shh, only patient little girls get what they want. What’s the magic word?”

Is he seriously doing this right now?, you thought but you immediately answered the question, desperate to at least have something. It must’ve been obvious how needy you’ve gotten because Taehyung’s long slender fingers were inserted in you with no warning.

You let out a shaky moan, your cunt immediately clenching around his fingers as he pushed them in and out at a quick pace. Your brain was completely fried as you couldn’t think or say anything except the feeling of euphoria you were in. Despite having his fingers inside you before, it felt more sensitive and pleasurable this time and you were ready to cum.

Unfortunately for you, he pulled his hand away from your needy pussy despite your attempts to trap it with your thighs. You started to whine and kick from the denial, upset that you didn’t get to finish.

“Calm down, we haven’t gotten to the real fun yet. You’ll be my good girl, right?” he said calmly, reaching over for the vibrator and inserting the batteries in. Normally, the pink toy didn’t have an effect on you because you used it numerous times while Tae was gone but for some reason, you felt nervous as if it was your first time using toys. You absolutely knew he was going to edge the hell out of you and although it was not that pleasurable for you, the build-up to your orgasm only for it to be cut away is a source of entertainment for him. 

But since you’ve been consistently good ever since he put in the anal beads, you were hoping that he’d let you come this time. 

You felt the head of the vibrator rub against your folds, the moisture slowly gathering onto the tip and the sheets. It was currently at the lowest speed and you were aching for it to be filled inside you. The buzzing of the toy was the only sound that rang out in the room and Taehyung didn’t say a word but his expression told you about what he’s going to do. 

All of a sudden, he suddenly inserted the vibrator inside you, the sudden intrusion igniting a small fire inside your body as it tries to take in the sensation. Even though the feeling shouldn’t be completely new to you, you felt overly sensitive like it was your first time. 

“T-tae, oh my god. I-i, oh...” you moaned lightly, wanting to feel a part of him but he prevented that from happening. Knowing the effect that he had on you, Taehyung slowly started to peel off his shirt due to the increasing temperature in the bedroom. With his tanned skin and toned stomach on display, the temptation of wanting to break free from the handcuffs was just too much. 

“Da..daddy...please…” 

“Yeah? Does it feel good? Are you glad you finally had something in that slutty cunt?” he taunted, turning the vibration up to the highest. The switch in level made you clench around the toy tightly, slick coming out of your system rapidly. He aimed the head to your clit, making the sensation feeling even better and getting you near your orgasm. 

Your body felt like it was on fire as you didn’t know where to focus yourself on. Since Taehyung restricted you from grabbing onto something to settle yourself, it just felt like you were in a different headspace. The amount of pullings you did onto the handcuffs are going to leave marks on your wrists but honestly, it was the least of your concerns at this point. 

He suddenly removes the wand from your clenching pussy, hovering it around your folds as you leave more slick from the slight movement the vibrator had on you despite not completely being inside you. Your juices were drenching onto the bedsheets and his hand and a part of you felt embarrassed but if Taehyung had no shame, neither then you. 

“Do you want something inside you? Does your cute little pussy want to be filled up?” he said darkly, waving his long and slender fingers in front of your face. He absolutely knows how much you love his fingers, at least 3 of them filling you up well. 

“Y-yes daddy, mmph, p-please fill me up with your long, oh god, fingers…” you purred, your eyes drooping from how much pleasure you’re receiving. 

“Keep your eyes up babygirl, I want you to stare at me while I make you feel good.” Taehyung aligns the head against your clit again as he inserted one of his fingers inside. The action caused you to let out a small scream, your body starting to shake on how much he’s doing to you. 

“T-Taehyung-” “Is that my name?” “I’m sorry, D-daddy! I-i-it’s so much, I don’t know if I can take it!” you whimpered, your juices coming out of you at an increasingly fast rate and your hands pathetically thrashing onto the restrains. 

“Yeah? My little baby can take it, this is nothing isn’t it?” he smirks, adding two more fingers to completely stretch your walls out. You felt yourself jolt from the increased action, tears starting to form at the corner of your eyes. 

“Da..daddy, shit, shit, oh, it’s so much, I, I,” you mewled, your body in cloud nine as you try to form sentences in your brain. Although you didn’t talk much, your moans and whimpers were music to his ears as Taehyung was satisfied with himself that he got you in this way. 

“Aww, it’s too much? Too bad, you know you want more than a vibrator. I know you’re dying for me to pound this tiny little pussy with my big fat cock. You want to feel my dick deep inside your stomach and try to keep my cum inside you, huh? Do you want that, you little fucktoy?” 

You didn’t know how he could read you like a book but it was what you wanted nonetheless. A flash of pink flew across the room before hitting against the wall, the identity being the vibrator that Taehyung was using on you a few minutes ago. Although you could still feel his fingers pump inside you, your clit was instead covered by his mouth. 

“Ahh! Oh my god, oh my god! Daddy!” you shrieked, your attention being directed on him. He swirls the bud with the flat of his tongue and occasionally flicked it to help send you off. Surprisingly, his fingers were still moving as well and you felt them hit the spongy texture of your g-spot, your body reacting to the sensation sensitively. 

You felt the all-too familiar knot in your stomach, signalling your orgasm. With the insane amount of pleasure, he would be too cruel to deny it. With your mind becoming absolutely hazy, the last thought you had was to finally release. 

Unfortunately, your thoughts weren’t answered because after a few more pumps, he immediately pulled his fingers out and his mouth was nowhere to be found on your clit. 

“Do you think I’m gonna let you cum? I don’t think so,” he mocked, sucking off the liquids and watching your body thrash against the bed from the denial. 

“Wh-what? Why? Why?” you whined loudly, the build-up fading away and your mind was back to the present. Of course he wasn’t going to let you cum right away despite how good you were because it was still a punishment. 

“Because I said so,” he stated in a matter-of-fact way, mesmerized at your body’s reactions. 

“But I’ve been good! I obeyed when you put in the anal beads-” “That’s not enough though.” 

“What the actual hell? You’re such a dick!” you muttered angrily, trying to catch yourself from the denial. Although it was pretty quiet, Taehyung’s ears picked it up and he was definitely not happy with what you said. 

“What the fuck did you say?” he growled, placing himself next to you and choking your throat with just enough force that was typical whenever you were acting up. You gasped at the lack of oxygen as you tried to form an excuse. 

“I-I’m sorry-” “Shut up. I thought I fucked the attitude out of you but I guess you still need to be taught a lesson. You’ve been using your bratty mouth too much, perhaps you’ll learn how to silence yourself with my cock inside it,” he snarled, standing up to remove his pants and boxers, the outline of his dick already making you hot and bothered. 

Although you’ve been living with your boyfriend for a long time now, his dick size never fails to impress you. Unfortunately, it means that he’s not going to have mercy on you, especially since you pissed him off. 

“I thought you were going to be a good girl but you just love acting up, do you? Do you like being a stupid slut? Did my little girl grow up to be a dumb brat?” he scoffed, pulling down his undergarments to reveal his huge cock, the tip hitting his belly button area before standing up proudly. You felt your mouth water at his size, wanting to take the whole thing inside you. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Are you going to obey like a good baby or are you going to keep on talking with that bratty little voice?” he snapped, taking you out of your gazing. You nodded obediently, not saying a word otherwise you would get in even more trouble. Taehyung stroked his cock for a bit, the pre-cum acting as lube to make it easier for you to swallow. 

Once his tip was placed in front of your lips, you immediately opened and took his length inside you, trying to fit as much as you can. Normally, you could suck a good half but since you’re on thin ice from your behavior, he’s definitely going to make you take the whole thing. Hearing his low husky moans made you feel better, knowing that you’re at least doing it right. 

You could feel him inch deeper inside you until you were nose deep between his balls. Taehyung’s head was thrown back and sweat was dripping down his face as his tip went past your gag reflex, the warm and wet sensation making the feeling extremely sensational. 

“D-addy, do you want me to-” you garbled, trying to form words but they came out as mostly gibberish due to the amount in your throat. 

“Choke on it, slut.” He starts to thrust forwards and backwards at a fast pace, one that you’re not accustomed to. Due to his length being too much for you to handle, you felt a long stream of tears flow down your cheeks as you try to hollow your throat to accommodate him.

“God, that feels so good. Finally my little baby is using her mouth for something good,” he grunts, placing his hands on your shoulders to thrust quicker. The low moans and growls he makes while you suck his dick turns you on, the all-too familiar ache between your legs building up again. “Do you like gagging on my cock baby girl?” You let out a nod which only made your breathing harder so you instructed yourself to breathe through your nose. Taehyung wasn’t looking empathetic for now as he smiled sadistically while chasing his own high. 

With your face being near the base of his cock and your jaw slacked to attempt to take him and make it easier for you, you truly thought he was cruel for making you take him whole. Hearing your little gags and garbles starts to make him go faster as he thrusts in and out of your mouth at an inhuman-like pace while you try to suck on him better to get more of his reactions. 

“God, you look so fucking hot like this. Your mouth feels so so good, I’m gonna cum,” he gasps, your little whimpers vibrating against the underside of his shaft. You felt a line of saliva flow down the corner of your mouth as your throat starts to close around his dick. 

“Gonna cum, yeah fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” he chants, his thrusts slowing down and after a loud moan of your name, his hot and sticky liquid spurted down your throat. You decided to take it down your throat, slowly sucking on it to clean his seed from his dick as he gently took it out from your mouth. With the length removed, you let out a deep gasp of breath as you struggled to breathe properly. 

“Whoa, baby, are you okay?” he asked, patting your back gently in an attempt to help you breathe. After a few minutes of clearing your throat, you nodded while wincing from the ache from the back of your throat. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be okay,” you gasped, slowly breathing in and out. 

“Good,” he beamed before turning back into his dominant self. However, instead of the coldness that he showed you before, his eyes are more playful and loving. “Did you learn your lesson?” You nodded weakly, cuddling your face against his chest. “I did, I’m extremely sorry Daddy! I didn’t mean to say that.” He pretended to think deeply as if he wanted to accept your apology or not. You prayed that he does because you’ve already been punished enough. 

“It’s okay baby, I forgive you,” he smiled, his iconic box smile popping up on his sunshine-like face. “But know that I’ll always be yours, no matter what and I hope the same for you.” “Duh, now shut up and kiss me,” you snarked and although he rolled his eyes at your abrasive personality, he complied anyways.

“Hold on, let me take your toys off,” he sighed, unlocking the handcuffs and bending you over to remove the anal beads. You moan from the movement as you’ve gotten accustomed to the toy inside you. You watch intently as he carefully places them on the nightstand to disinfect later and carries you to the bed. “You ready for my dick, baby girl?” His tip was placed against your folds, teasing you slowly. You let out a shaky moan, wanting this just as much as he does. Taehyung took it as a yes as he slowly entered inside you, grunting from the inclusion. “Damn, you’ve gotten so much tighter, huh?” You just let out shaky moans and whimpers in response as you feel him completely enter you and fill you up. Your walls were fluttering around his length as you tried to take as much as him in, causing him to let out a low groan. 

“Jesus fuck…” he grunted, as he immediately took his cock out, hovered it above your cunt, and slammed it inside you with such force. You let out a scream from the action, catching you off guard as you try to match up with his quick pace. 

Like it was nothing, Taehyung snapped his hips quickly like it was child’s play as he fucks you deeper and harder, more intense than all of your previous rounds. He touches his bulge that’s deep inside your stomach, causing you to let out a whimper from his smirking face upon you. 

“Yeah, does my little baby like being filled up and having my cock be deep inside her?” he asks while fucking you like no tomorrow. 

“O-oh my god, yea, yes Daddy,” you purred, your half-droopy eyes interlocking with his, a simple but cherished action he likes during sex. It can be intense and a bit awkward at times, especially since he has a look that could make anyone fall on their knees on a normal day, but his dark starry eyes were to die for. After a minute, you look away with embarrassment but Taehyung cups your cheek and continues to stare for a moment longer. 

“Don’t look away from me baby, I wish you can see how much your cute face looks while you’re getting your pussy pounded.” You were getting close to your orgasm again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around his dick. He could sense it too as he starts to pick up the pace and hit against your g-spot more often. “Shit, kitten, are you going to cum now? F-fuck yeah, cum for me now. I wanna see your cute face while you cream around my big dick.” His words were like the tipping point for you to orgasm as the knot that was building up finally lets out. You let out a scream as you felt your liquids gush around him, your mind having no thoughts in the world other than the feeling you have right now and your body is shaking violently from the pleasure. But instead of your usual intensity of an orgasm, you felt yourself squirt everywhere. Not only were your juices splattered onto your boyfriend’s cock but you felt the area around you feel drenched and some of them got onto Taehyung’s stomach and arms. 

He stared at you with wide eyes and an open mouth as he started to thrust sloppily, chasing after his high as well due to the sight. “Fucking shit, you squirted all over me baby. Damn that was so hot.” You whimpered from the sensitivity as he continued, his grunts and moans increasing in volume. “Jesus fuck, holy shit, the things you do to me baby girl.” After letting out a guttural grunt, his dick started to inflate and shoot out thick loads of his seed into your battered cunt. Taehyung slowly exited himself out of you and flopped down on the bed next to you while pushing his long fingers inside to keep his cum in there. You let out a squeal from the intrusion as he slowly brought some of his load in front of your face and tapped on your lips, slightly coating them.

“Can I have them Daddy?” you whispered and he gave you a nod in response. Like there was no tomorrow, you immediately inserted his fingers into your mouth and wantonly sucked on them, savoring the salty taste of his cum. He raised an eyebrow at your behavior and pushed them deeper, the flat of his fingers feeling the back of your mouth. This caused you to gag, the action reminding you when you were sucking on his dick a while ago. 

“O-okay baby that’s enough unless you want to go for another round, but I assume you’re too tired from that,” Taehyung laughed softly, slowly pulling them out to which you whined from the loss. “Are you okay, did I go too far? You did so well.” “Y-yeah, I’m okay,” you mumbled but he still wasn’t completely convinced. His duality always kills you but you were here for it anyways. 

“No, I must’ve gone too far. At any moment, did you feel like you wanted to use the safe word? Remember that if-” “Taehyungie, you were okay! I’m okay and I didn’t want to use it. Besides, you were really hot dominating me like that,” you tried to assure him, rubbing his arms (which have gotten buffer) gently. “You took care of me well too.” “I’m glad to hear that! Hold on babe, I’m going to clean you up and get you some clothes.” He already left to go to the bathroom and during that, it gave you some time to think over your thoughts. Taehyung was truly a marvelous person: his looks were to die for, his personality was sweeter than honey but he can truly dominate someone the next second. You truly were thankful that he appeared in your life but a part of you didn’t understand why. 

He comes out dressed in his old vintage T-shirts and shorts with another oversized T-shirt and a damp towel in his hands. 

“Alright honey, can you lay down on your back for me? I must’ve made a mess.” “Dude, I literally squirted on not only you but the bed as well,” you dead-panned, causing him to laugh. He gently wiped the excess seed that laid on your inner thighs and the top of your private area before slipping a pair of your comfortable panties onto you. You quickly pulled on the shirt, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs and shyly gave him a hug (which was considerably rare for you to start them but with Taehyung, you would do it no matter what). He returned the hug back and laid you down on the bed with him cuddling you, being the big spoon within your relationship. 

You like how his bigger body can easily make you feel warm and you could hear the sound of his heartbeat, the soft feeling making you drowsy. 

“Do you want to sleep now, baby?” he rasps, rubbing the back of your neck and finding the particular spot where it was relieving for you. You nodded back in return as you turned over to face him, completely relishing his warm embrace. 

“Can I ask you something, Y/N? I hope you don’t feel uncomfortable,” he asked slowly, breaking the silence that lingered around the room. 

You nodded, slowly breaking out of his cuddle to face him with wide eyes. Although he didn’t want to break the hug either, he sat up to look at you as well. 

“Y/N, you know that I’m dating you and when I date someone, my attention is on them and because I’m with you, I only see you. My eyes will always be looking at you, I breathe and bathe in your presence daily, and I’ll even shout out to the world that I love you if you ever asked me. I’m completely yours honey and I’m curious on why do you get so jealous whenever a woman talks to me? It might sound insensitive but today you acted different when I talked to Irene. Why is that?” You let out a ragged sigh, unsure if you truly want to tell Taehyung. Of course you knew that Taehyung loved you until the end of time and you obviously feel the same way, but that was the problem. You would completely drop everything just to be with him forever but is it possible for a man like him to agree to that? Taehyung was an obvious romantic and if he had to choose between the world and you, he would choose you but why? Why were you so special that he’s dating you? There were plenty of other fish in the sea but his eyes were set on you. 

You were just another girl who’s trying to survive in the cutthroat fashion world, constantly thinking to yourself on how much of a disappointment you were. Being an idol was a dream you were dead-set on ever since you were a child but you were too chicken to go to an actual audition and spent the early stages of your adult life fighting with your mom to go on a fashion major: a second choice you didn’t really care for but it was a second choice nonetheless. 

Taehyung was a successful photographer with many deals and collaborations from multiple people, some even for famous magazines. His visuals were good enough to even be a Gucci model! He’s good with children and elderly people, he’s an amazing baker, he can play the saxophone, and he could even sing! He shouldn’t be dating some girl who acts like a little kid and has a personality that is absolutely intolerable to most people. 

“Taehyung, why are you dating me? If Irene asked you out on a date, would you go on it while you’re in a relationship with me?” “Of course not, I only have-” “But Irene’s ten times more gorgeous than me, it’s like comparing a swan to a baby duck! What kind of man would turn down a sexier woman for a toddler look alike?” you cried, your emotions showing out as you sobbed onto the comforter. He looked at you with sad eyes, rubbing your arms in an attempt to soothe you but your tears didn’t stop running. 

“Taehyung, you’re literally every girl’s dream boyfriend! Yet you chose me out of all of those girls who I can’t compare to! Why?! I’m literally nothing compared to them; all of my life I’ve been bullied by my stature, my dreams didn’t come true, everyone thinks I’m annoying, and it fucking hurts to hear gossip from the people in this town on why I’m dating you! I’m just not good enough and I’ll never be-” Your ranting was stopped by a kiss, a romantic and passionate one. You started to whimper inside his mouth as he didn’t break away. His lips were quickly detached from yours to kiss away the tears that were slowly dripping down your face. 

“Don’t say another word. I don’t understand why you don’t see yourself the same way I see you,” he said sternly, cupping your face gently. 

“Wh-what? I’m not-” “Never say you’re not something because you’re such a beautiful, smart, funny, creative, and witty person. I know it’s hard to not compare yourself to other women but out of all of them, I only see you. Even though you hate that you’re short and you look young, I promise you it’s one of the things I love the most about you. You’re so cute and it makes me so happy whenever I’m cuddling you and I love taking care of you. And it’s okay if your dreams didn’t come true, everything happens for a reason and if you were an idol, would you’ve met me?” “Not really-” “Exactly, it’s like fate did something and we were always meant to be with each other! Besides, I have some friends who are idols and they absolutely hate it.” “Wow, Taehyung, way to make me feel better,” you said sarcastically, a low chuckle vibrating against you. 

“Plus, I don’t find your personality annoying. It highlights you really well and I think it’s okay to have that kind of humor but if you act too bratty, I’m always there to punish you-” “God, you’re so perverted and this was supposed to be wholesome!” you barked, pushing him off while watching him with disgust as he tries to catch his breath from laughing too hard. 

“Sorry, sorry, the main point is that I love you no matter what and I’ll always think, dream, and bathe in you. You’re my girl and it’s always going to be that way,” he said, giving you another kiss before pulling you back down on the bed and cuddling you again. 

“Th-thank you Taehyung,” you said softly, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling yourself closer to his chest. It’s so warm and familiar, just the way you like it. You shift around until you’re more comfortable as you melt yourself into him. It was hard to not feel jealous of other girls but you felt better after talking it out and hearing his words. 

“I love you,” he mumbled softly, slowly starting to fall asleep. 

“I love you too.” You moved around for a bit but a sudden pain in your lower area stopped you from wiggling too much. Of course you forgot that you were getting railed a while ago and it’s now the aftermath. 

“Yo Taehyung, why the fuck did you go hard on me? Now it hurts and I don’t think I can walk normally. Hell, I don’t think I can sit down because you spanked me as well!” you snapped, the all too familiar tsundere personality coming out. 

He only had a smirk etched out on his face, pulling you close to stuff your face within his chest. “Sorry, I guess,” he replied sarcastically, chuckling on how you grumbled and complained in response. 

“What does that mean, ‘I guess’? It’s always the doms with the biggest dicks.”

Your ringtone blasted across the room, waking you up from your comfortable and warm sleep with Taehyung. You grumbled to yourself as you groggily stared at the caller ID. Sure enough, it was Irene. Your heart dropped to your stomach as there was no other reason why she was calling you unless to fire you for your behavior at the diner yesterday. 

“Hello?” you answer timidly, praying that you won’t get kicked out today. 

“Hello, Y/N. I hope you’re having a lovely morning today.” “You too. Listen Irene, I’m really sorry on how I acted during the diner that time. It was extremely immature of me to have that attitude and not listen to your side of the story, I guess jealousy got the better of me. I-I promise there won’t be any more instances like this and I’m sorry for causing such inconvenience,” you rambled, sweat dripping down your back as your fate was determined on the other line. 

Silence filled the room and you waited impatiently, tapping your fingers along the headboard of your bed. Suddenly, laughter rang out from Irene’s side and you sighed in a breath of relief that you’re off the hook. 

“It’s okay, I completely understand why you acted that way and I apologize if it may seem like I’m making moves on your boyfriend. Although I would like it if you listened to my side, I’m hoping he did at least.” You stared at his sleeping figure and softly rubbed his bread-like cheeks with affection. “Y-yeah, he did. So, what did you want to call me about?” “Oh, do you know the dress designs that you submitted to me a few months ago?” Your mind went back to you staying overnight at the studio, scrapping pages and pages of different designs to find the perfect one to turn in. Although you were extremely proud, at that time Irene didn’t spend a second to even look at them which lowered your spirits. 

“Yeah, what about them? Did I do something wrong?” “No, you didn’t. In fact they were really lovely and I’m sorry it took me a long time to review them. Actually, I really liked it so much that I turned it into some big name fashion companies and they are deciding to feature them in their latest runway for a fashion week.” Your eyes widened, shock filling your brain as you tried to comprehend what was going on. There was no way, the design that you spent hours perfecting was able to go on the runway?! You let out a high-pitched shriek, instantly waking up Taehyung as he slowly opened his eyes. 

“Oh my god, thank you thank you thank you! I-I can’t believe this is happening!” you squealed, your excitement radiating the room like sunshine on a bright morning. 

“You’re welcome honey, I hope you’re coming up with more designs to possibly submit in the future.” “Of course! Thank you so much, have a great day!” you grinned as the call ended. You started babbling to yourself while Taehyung watched you with admiration surrounding his face. 

“Congratulations baby,” he grinned, giving you a kiss on your lips. 

“Hey, how did you know?” “I heard you screaming ever since the phone rang.” “I mean, I guess you would’ve found out that way. Anyways I’m so excited and happy since this is such a huge opportunity for me! Also, thank you for the support and love you gave me last night,” you said, pecking his cheeks. 

“Anytime baby girl. How about I make some of those fluffy pancakes you like for celebration,” he smiled, walking out of the bed and into the brown slippers you got him for his birthday once. 

“Alright, I’ll be-” Unfortunately for you, your legs stopped working and you tumbled out of the bed. Taehyung only laughed at your fall before carrying you bridal style, much to your embarrassment. 

“Thanks a lot Tae, you really ruined me last night,” you pouted as you made yourself comfortable in his arms. 

“You know you love me right,” he cooed, flicking your cheeks which turned into an embarrassingly bright red. As much as you don’t show it that much, you’re definitely in love with him no matter what. 

Just as Taehyung was about to head off for his photoshoot consisting of a beauty model, he slipped his hand underneath his drawer and beneath the ties hides a velvet red box. And inside the box was a wedding ring that was passed onto from generations of his family. 

You have been dating him for a few years now and although you never admitted it, you were hoping that one day he’ll propose to you. 

Taehyung smiled at the box before closing the drawer to head out his way. There was a legend throughout the Kim family that the ring fits the person who's the perfect wife for the son. The ring was quite small which meant most girls couldn’t fit it but since you have small hands, he checked the size of your fingers and it fit perfectly. 

Many people would ask him why he would choose a short abrasive girl like you as his girlfriend and some may judge but frankly, he didn’t care about what everyone else thought. 

Because he was lucky that destiny allowed him to be with you and the person that he set his mind and future on was only you. 

a/n: this was initially a drabble but i liked the idea sm that i decided to write a whole ff on it lol. thanks for reading, i hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! <3

taglist: @cherrykocho​, @knjkitten​

[whump-a-la-mode]

Magician’s Assistant - Trance

I heard you liked cliffhangers so here’s a cliffhanger for your cliffhanger. Much thanks to @nightfrostshadow for requesting another piece of this, you’re really a cheerleader for this series!

The rest of Magician’s Assistant can be found linked to in my info post, pinned at the top of my blog. I hope you enjoy!

CW//Some dehumanizing language, food

Villain was scared.

Of course, Friend had expected that. Anticipated it, almost taken a moment to imagine just how it would appear, nerves twisted upon such a feeble countenance. Civilian had warned them as such over the phone, warned them to be gentle, to go slow, to avoid any sudden movements-- as though they were talking about something dangerous, something feral.

In a way, they were.

But, now, as their new charge stood before them, there was something almost unbelievable about the sheer depths of their terror, and the way they presented it.

Villain was small, short in stature and so awfully thin that a stiff gust of wind could more than likely shatter their twig-like bones to shards. They looked upwards like a scared puppy dog, bag held in front of them with both hands like a shield, as though, if they simply kept it there, they would be safe, forever and ever.

And, hopefully, they would be. It was perhaps only a minute or so ago that Civilian had coaxed them through the door, shoving a handful of messily written instructions into Friend’s hands with a hurried ‘thank you.’ That meant that they had a week. A week to keep this- this thing calm, comfortable, and, more importantly than any of that, under control.

They could balance the most complex of equations, withdraw patients from near-death, turn caustic chemicals to life-saving medicines. But taking care of someone so anxious? And without...

No. They didn’t back down from a challenge.

“Hey, bud.” They tried to smile, trying so desperately not to terrify their charge. Not yet. They gestured with a hand to the bag they held, knuckles clenched so tightly as to turn a pale hue. “What’s in there?”

It felt stupid, but at the very least, their ward seemed to respond.

“Um...” Villain glanced downwards, to their burden. Their voice was almost inaudible, whimpering in form. “It’s- Spouse gave it to me. To help.”

To help.

“Can I see?”

They held it close to their chest, shivering turning to all-out shaking. Based upon the look in their eyes, if they ever lost their grip on the thing, they would simply perish.

“No.”

“Okay.” Friend sighed, biting their lower lip. There went that avenue of conversation. They supposed that making conversation with a failed attempt was somewhat of a lost cause in the first place. They needed to stay calm, not necessarily entertained. “Well... How about I show you to your room?”

“M-My room?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Villain dipped their head. It was a display of respect, even as fear made them defy everything, up until the very concept of staying still. Gently, their caretaker reached forward, hand looping about their wrist with an ever so ghostly touch. They shivered, but abided.

“Let’s go then, okay?”

“Okay.”

They had set up the room quite some time ago, as soon as they had gotten Civilian’s call. As soon as they learned what they needed to do, to keep the world ticking over as it was supposed to be. The guidelines had been as simple as they were detailed, leaving nothing to chance, to whim.

Moving to the hall and creeping open the proper door, Friend found themself nodding to themself in satisfaction. They’d checked so many times, verified it all, but knowing that it was still arranged properly was an awfully grand relief.

Dim and cozy, Civilian had said. “They don’t like windows, be sure to cover them. They’re used to the kennel. Anything too big will scare them. Give them a bed, but know that they’re going to end up sleeping under it, assuming they don’t wind up in the corner. Other than the bed, the room should be empty. They can’t read, and they’re afraid of books. That includes any signage or decorations. Think of it like a kennel-- anything unnecessary is an unnecessary risk.”

And, it was so that friend had designed their ward’s living space. A small thing, perhaps ten feet by fifteen, with grey-painted walls and a bed with beige comforter. The singular window was covered in its entirety with an off-white curtain, allowing only enough light to seep through as to allow the room to not be entirely dark. And, that was it. Just like a kennel.

“Do you want to hang out in here for a little while?”

The question seemed to bring Villain quite an extreme relief, as they nodded frantically. They crossed the threshold into the space, nearly disappearing within the dim shroud.

Friend almost left, before remembering a piece of their instruction that Civilian had insisted on being terribly vital: The cuffs.

“Do you want your mitts on, buddy?”

A nod. And so it was done.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“They’re pretty good about eating, nowadays. They can eat the same food as the rest of us. My partner says they like chili, and things that look more like what they’re used to eating. But, more or less, it’s fine, so long as they eat.”

Civilian’s instructions regarding their ward’s mealtimes had been far less specific than those for their habitat. Anything that normal people ate, but specifically chili. It was certainly an odd favorite food to have, given what their diet had once been, but it was something.

Thus, with a quick mix, Friend’s kitchen had quite quickly been filled with an overwhelming aroma-- beans and spices, seasoned meat and the mixings to go along with it. Villain was still scared, even a slightly above average monkey would have been able to see that.

The whole quest, the whole effort, was a farce. They knew that. But, at the very least, perhaps they could make their charge somewhat less frightened for the time which they had them. It would be better to see them smiling, after all, instead of screaming. They’d spent too much time, listening to Villain screaming. It really did get grating, after a while.

When the hot dish upon their oven as last appeared to be finished, they picked it up by the pot’s handle, swirling it around for a moment before reaching a point of satisfaction. A few moments of pouring, and two bowls were equally filled with heaping helpings of meat and beans.

Eating the same thing as a failed attempted. That was a thought.

Friend placed the dishes upon their dining table, on opposite ends, and finished the assortment with a small variety of other offerings-- baby carrots for vegetables, and dinner rolls to nibble upon. The kitchen filled with scents and steam, they turned.

Villain was still in their room, they assumed. Civilian had mentioned that they were quite reclusive, which made sense. They would have plenty to entertain themself.

With jostling steps, they made their way up the stairs, feeling as the aroma of herbs practically followed them up. The room in which their ward was housed was just at the top of the staircase.

The room that-

The room that’s door was opened.

With a raised brow, Friend peered inside. Certainly, Villain was absent, nowhere to be seen. Not in the corner, not upon the bed, nor under it-- they checked. Yet, the bag had been left behind, stim toys and plushies placed neatly and piled to categories.

Perhaps they had only been looking for the bathroom? With a more cautious air about them, they moved forward, along the hall. The corridor existed in an L shape, its shorter side at the top of the stairs, and its longer side around a sharp bend.

The bathroom stood at the end of the hallway’s shorter piece. The empty bathroom.

A bated breath.

Friend turned the corner.

Civilian certainly hadn’t warned them about this.

The longer end of the L-shape was definitively emptier than the other, edges lined not with doors, but with sparse decorations, bookshelves and meaningless paintings. It was all a vessel, a vehicle, for the door at the end.

The door before which Villain stood. There was an odd stiffness to their legs, their whole body. Not a muscle of them moved, not even their eyes, so it seemed as they stared. Stared at nothing.

A closed door, from which creeped the barest scent of antiseptic.

Villain most certainly was not allowed in Friend’s lab.

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

Never gonna happen

(Looking at the art deity @cacodaemonia​ ‘s work for inspiration to help me through the next chapter of Time To Say Goodbye and I couldn’t stop giggling at this one. And suddenly this one-shot was written. Poor Mose xD )

-

The bar is crowded with souls from every corner of the Galaxy and none which one should be turning one’s back on. In the corner of the room, Mose tips the food on his plate into his big mouth while Zev’sonya leans back in her chair and takes a big swallow from her glass of hard liquor.

They are between work, and also between crews as the previous one made the mistake of heavily hinting to her how many credits they could get by visiting one of the blood farms with Mose.

So, yeah, Zev’sonya is in a foul mood and of course that means some moron has to appear and try his luck charming her.

Her initial reaction and instinct is to tell the idiot to go away before she cuts him, but one glance at his face makes her change her mind. Instead of scowling, she puts on a smile. Instead of threats, Zev’sonya nods for him to take the seat next to her.

Mose chews and watches them with a slight frown.

The idiot introduces himself as Dannian or something. He offers to buy her a drink while he does a poor job at trying to map her body with his eyes and hating her layers of clothing for making it difficult. Zev’sonya keeps her smile on and pretends not to notice.

And soon she accepts the offer from this Durian-guy to travel back to his planet with him as his guest, on the one condition that her friend got to come along as well.

While Durian-guy tries to act like he’s perfectly fine with having a Hutt join them, Zev’sonya gives her sweet smile to Mose, who returns it with a faint narrowing of his eyes in a silent question.

Zev’sonya takes the hand Durian-guy offers her and lets him help her to her feet before looking back at Mose again, still smiling. “You coming?”

Sighing, Mose puts his plate down. “Yeah, yeah…”

She knew he would. He always does. He’s the one soul she can trust.

On the ship, Mose stays in the back, in the shadows, while Zev’sonya allows the Durian-guy to cozy up to her. She giggles at the lame jokes he delivers and swoons at the lies he serves her.

The planet they land on is quite beautiful with sleek, golden buildings and a warm, red sky. The air smells like sugar. They walk to an impossibly tall tower where servants scramble to obey Durian-guy’s every whim, just like he said they would and Zev’sonya knew they would.

Mose keeps quiet and remains in the background, but he follows. 

Though, unease flutters across his face later, when Zev’sonya appears in a slinky dress that had been brought to her room for her to wear to tonight’s big dinner in the tower. He’s clearly worried she’s lost her mind.

Zev’sona gives Mose another sweet smile and lets Durian-guy place his hand on her bare back as he guides her over to the seat next to him. Mose shakes his head and eats.

It’s in the middle of the night when the door to Mose’s room slides open and Zev’sonya sneaks inside. “Mose…” She whispers.

Mose frowns without opening his eyes or getting up from where he’s sleeping on the floor. “What?”

“We have to leave.” Zev’sonya continues, keeping her voice down so no one else will hear her. “Now.”

Mose opens his eyes and stares directly at her. “What did you do?” His voice is an odd mix of resignation and wariness, but he doesn’t sound surprised. At all. Like he was expecting this.

Zev’sonya can’t help it, she grins, too pleased with herself not to. “Relax. He’s fine. I didn’t put a finger on him.”

“What,” Mose gets up and sighs, “did you do, Lorda?”

“You didn’t recognize him, huh?” Zev’sonya says as they leave the room. “Well, I did. I saw that guy’s face on a propaganda bulletin thing last month. Durian is a prince on this planet and a huge player in the slave trade.”

They pause in the shadows as two guards walk by before Zev’sonya gestures for Mose to follow, which he does, and they actually manage to sneak out of the building undetected.

“I just thought him having so many credits from his business deals, he wouldn’t mind sharing them with us.” Zev’sonya states gleefully, feeling the weight of all the jewellery and other valuables in her countless pockets. “He was only too happy to show me where he kept all his treasures. Not exactly humble or smart.”

“A prince, Lorda.” Mose growls. “You decided to rob a prince. On his home planet. Without an escape ship or a back-up crew.”

Zev’sonya makes a face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“We talked about this.” Mose sighs, shuffling along after her as she scouts for a ship to steal.

“You need to learn to get a little more fun out of life, pateesa.” Zev’sonya grins, then lights up as she sees a small and fast ship that is perfect for them. “Ah hah. That one.”

“What I need is to sleep through a night without having to flee for my life…” Mose mutters.

Snorting a laugh, Zev’sonya slices the computer lock on the ship’s door and it slides open to let them in. “You want a straw? I mean, since you’re set on sucking the fun out of things?”

“No, I just want to get off this planet before they start shooting at us.”

Zev’sonya gets into the pilot seat and starts awakening the ship from its slumber. It’s fairly easy and soon they are heading towards the safety of space. She glances back into the passenger seating area outside the cockpit door and grins at Mose. “See? You worry too much.”

Mose huffs, unimpressed, and merely tries to get his big bulk comfortable between the narrow path between the row of seats at opposite sides of him. Few ships are designed for a Hutt body and this small craft is clearly not.

Zev’sonya is about to reassure him that they’ll land and sell the ship and get a better one as soon as possible when a beeping sound draws her attention. She turns forward again and the smile on her face fades when she sees the multiple dots on the radar following them. “Oh.”

Mose stops fidgeting and stares at her. “What?”

Zev’sonya clears her throat. “I think he found out.”

“Here we go…” Mose sighs. “Are we in trouble?”

Frowning, Zev’sonya flips some switches and pushes some buttons, pushing the engine to the limit to reach top speed. It helps, but not for long. The dots on the radars increase their speed as well and soon they even start catching up. “I wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘trouble’…”

“What word would you use?” Mose demands.

“Uhm…” Zev’sonya glances to the left when a warning shot is fired by the ship. “That things might get a little… interesting?”

Mose mutters something rude in Huttese.

A second shot comes dangerously close to the ship and Zev’sonya snarls angrily. They want to punish her for stealing stuff Durian-guy can afford losing three times over? Fine. But they do NOT get to shoot down Mose for her idiocy. She gets up and runs out of the cockpit, running across the seats to get by Mose to reach the narrow, circular opening in the floor that will lead her to the ship’s weapons. “Take over the controls. Keep up the speed and be ready to dodge. I’ll get on our guns.”

“What do you-No, wait, get back here! I can’t…” Mose blurts out as she goes by, but then the ship shakes as a third shot clearly comes too close for comfort.

“Do it!” Zev’sonya shouts as she climbs down the ladder and then rushes over to activate the weapons.

There are about seven or eight ships pursuing them and it is quite satisfying seeing them scatter like startled birds when she starts firing at them.

Mose is a skilled pilot, just rarely fits into a cockpit, so he keeps them going while Zev’sonya convinces the ones following them it would be wise to simply let them go. It takes quite a bit of persuading, whatever Durian-guy is paying them must be a lot, but eventually they decide they’ve chased them far enough and the risk isn’t worth it, so they turn and head back to the planet far away in the distance.

Cackling satisfied, Zev’sonya climbs back up the ladder. “We’re good.”

“You’re sure?” Mose asks, his upper torso in the cockpit as he has his hands on the controls while the rest of him is still in the passenger area.

“I’m sure.” Zev’sonya says, hopping up on the chairs to make her way towards the cockpit without stepping on his tail. “We’re good.”

“Good.” Mose replies, then sighs and slumps a little. “Because I’m stuck.”

“Really?” Zev’sonya blinks, surprised, then steps off the chairs and on to his back, ignoring his soft grunt of annoyance, gingerly walking up to where she crouches down and can see the door frame is digging into his sides.

“Really.” Mose grumbles.

Caught between feeling guilty and the urge to laugh, Zev’sonya clears her throat and heads back into the ship again. “I’ll go see if we got some grease.”

She finds some by a panel where somebody had been doing repairs or maintenance.

It takes a bit of time and effort, plus all of her might pulling on his arm, but finally Mose, after one careful inch after another, finally slides free with a loud schlurp. He exhales with relief and lets go of Zev’sonya’s hand so she falls on her back with a startled squawk.

Laughing up at the ceiling, not begrudging him a little payback, Zev’sonya revels in her smugness at their success. “I told you; you worry too much.”

Watching her, Mose shakes his head a little. “I feel so bad for the one who ends up marrying you, Lorda.”

Sitting up with a heartfelt scoff, Zev’sonya speaks with utter certainty: “That, pateesa, is never going to happen.”

There is absolutely zero chance of her agreeing to something so stupid. That kind of love isn’t real, the only one she will ever trust is Mose and marriage is for naive idiots.

Not going to happen.

Never.

[hopekiedokie]

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬ ＭＥＮ ＤＯ ＩＳ ＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

Oh

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.  

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.  

Thank god you're sitting right now.  

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.  

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.  

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.  

No one can change your mind on that.  

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”  

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.  

"Well, they better hurry!"  

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.  

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.  

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING  

It’s just...  

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.  

Uh hello???  

HE’S HOT  

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…  

Do you even think he’s hot???  

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.  

Damn bro  

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…  

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!  

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  

"WE'RE HERE!"  

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.  

Come on!  

THREE 👏  MORE 👏  HOT 👏 GUYS  👏

???  

This can't be real.  

This is literal heaven!  

Gasp!  

Are.  

You.  

DEAD?!  

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.  

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says. 

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.  

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.  

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.  

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.  

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.  

Awww he’s extra cute.  

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.  

“So what are we doing here?”  

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”  

“Yo, who is she?”  

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.  

Ugh you need a massage.  

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.  

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.   

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?  

You scoff hard and loud.  

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.  

Oh honey, you are wrong.  

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”  

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.  

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.  

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.  

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.  

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.  

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.  

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.  

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.  

AND I MEAN A LOT.  

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…  

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.  

…..  

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.  

If ever you were thinking...  

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.  

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.  

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.  

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.  

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.  

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.  

Tae rolls his eyes.  

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?"  

"Actually, yes. It is."  

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.  

“Yoongi hyung!”  

Oh great! Another one.  

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.  

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??  

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.  

No no no no no.  

No way!  

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.  

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.  

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?  

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??  

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no   

It's like Oprah!  

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!  

OR MAYBE  

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????  

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???   

ARE YOU KIDDING?  

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?  

Thanos? lol.  

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.  

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you   

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.  

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”  

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”  

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”  

Well, can’t argue with that logic.  

The mall is practically your second home at this point.  

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”  

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement... 

Are you missing something here?  

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”  

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.  

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.  

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”  

Yes, again.  

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.  

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.  

But he doesn’t question it.  

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.  

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?  

A CRAP TON.  

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.  

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.  

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.  

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"   

Wow.  

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.  

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.  

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"  

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.  

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".  

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.  

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came. 

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.  

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"  

Jeez FINALLY.  

Something you can talk about that involves you.  

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.  

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.  

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.  

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.  

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞  ]  

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.  

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?) 

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.  

Welp.  

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?   

No???  

Okay fine.  

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.  

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.  

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"  

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."  

ʰᵉʰ  

Ok  

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…  

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."  

"Yeah, it is actually."  

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.  

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.  

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.  

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.  

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.  

God, can someone get you away from this guy?  

What's his problem?  

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.  

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.  

Seokjin snorts loudly.  

Eww.  

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.  

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."  

Everyone laughs to that and again,  

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?  

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"  

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.  

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"  

Ohhh….  

So,  

Does he constantly get fired from a job?  

Well, that's just sad.  

Hopefully you don't end up like him.  

😳  

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"  

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.  

"Uh, what reputation?"  

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.  

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.  

So you were right.  

That's kind of impressive though…  

But a huge waste.  

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"  

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."  

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.  

What's that about?  

It almost looks as if he…  

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"  

"Oh you bet I did."  

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.  

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"  

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.  

Can't he say anything nice?  

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."  

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.  

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."  

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."    

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.  

"I want to hear what he has to say."  

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.  

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.  

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.    

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice  

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.  

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.  

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.  

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him  

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”  

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.  

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”  

"I don't."  

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"  

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."  

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"  

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"  

Huh  

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.  

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.  

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"  

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง  

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.  

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."  

"All of us except Jungkook though."  

Who?  

Oh that extra cute shy boy.  

You forgot he's here.  

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.  

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"   

"That would be so cool!"  

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"  

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"  

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.  

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.  

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)  

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)  

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)  

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )  

In the end, they are all like 

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)  

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  

What the heck is going on?  

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.  

Gasp!  

He can talk???  

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.  

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"  

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"  

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.  

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.  

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.  

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?  

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???  

Oh, you don't like that.  

Seokjin was the first one to react.  

"Dude?? What the hell?!"  

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.  

Makes sense.  

Yeah, sure.  

Why not?  

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???  

…  

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.  

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks   

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.  

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.  

"Yeah. What else?"  

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"  

"Yeah. Why?"  

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.  

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.  

You and Tae look at each other.  

What an epiphany.  

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.  

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"  

They all nod.  

Ughhhhhhh  

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.  

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.  

Could things get any worse?  

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"  

Ha ha 

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"  

Namjoon stands and walks away.  

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.  

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!  

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?  

Code something something.  

Oh whatever!  

Anyways,  

So to summarize things  

You might end up working at an awful low end store.  

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.  

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.  

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.   

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.  

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.   

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!  

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.  

Good luck to you, indeed.