#there’s not enough words to describe how much I love these two hoes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chanluster · 4 years ago

Text

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart.

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening.

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?”

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked.

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea.

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.”

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful

“This asshole,” you muttered.

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS:

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing.

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?”

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take.

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here?

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes.

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time.

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

Were you really just friends?

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings.

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend.

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first.

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth.

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

You blinked.

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused.

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing xiv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 690

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello!!!! we’re here at fourteen chapters omg ✨✨when i first started this series it was mostly self-indulgent and now there are people who actually enjoy reading it??🥺 it almost doesn’t seem real T.T

thank you so much for the love and support!!! just so I don't give too much spoilers for this chap - I apologise to my fellow geminis for the potential slander 🤣 this is more of a self-drag lmaooo

anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap!!!

“Ah. I’m getting allergies.” Yena sniffs, scrunching her nose.

You furrow your brows in concern, “Are you okay? Do you need any medicine?”

“It’s just the seasonal changes,” She brushes you off.

You nod in understanding, “I get it. My mom has horrible reactions towards pollen so—”

“I’m not allergic to flowers.” She blinks.

“Then what—?”

“It’s Gemini season. It’s like—literally the worst time of the year.” She blinks.

You gawk at her, taking a whole ten seconds to process her serious tone when she doesn’t waver under your scrutiny.

“I’m a Gemini,” You inform her slowly.

“I mean …” She shrugs all as you scowl at her, opting to throw the closest object you had, which was your favourite pen so you decide against it; simply shooting her the meanest glare you could possibly muster.

“Look, it’s not you,” She sighs, and you’re half-expecting her to finish with an it’s me to make you scoff, “It’s me.” And there you go. “I mean, it’s Gemini’s in general because they’re two-faced bitches who have the worst emotional attachment issues. Like they’re literally what the opposite of glue is. And they’re so over-analytical. How is it like psychoanalysing every person you meet only to hurt your own feelings and sulk about it?”

You blink.

“I mean it’s not you but if the shoe fits.” She says casually, plopping a grape into her mouth that you’re tempted to slap away.

“You’re so mean!” You pout indignantly.

She cackles, throwing her head back as you continue to sulk. You weren’t that bad. You just … you were risk-averse! You liked having the freedom to observe everyone and anyone and package them into tiny compartments in your head so you could understand them better. You weren’t … that Gemini.

“You’re so cute,” She coos pinching your cheeks. “No wonder Beef One and Beef Two like you so much.” She teases.

Your first reaction is to blush because you know who exactly she’s talking about, but you have more pressing matters, like—

“You have nicknames for them?” You ask, baffled.

“Hey, I wasn’t friends with many girls in high school. Don’t girls usually have nicknames for their crushes?” She says through a pout.

You stay expressionless as you try to gauge the level of seriousness you can extract from her tone.

You realise she’s dead serious.

“Yeah, but we’re in college,” You argue, scrunching your nose, “And sides’, it’s not like they’re strangers. We know them.”

She rolls her eyes, waving you off like you were the inconvenience here. Then she leans forward, her eyes twinkling as she takes a complete one-eighty that you try to adjust to.

“So … you Gemini hoe, what’s your plans?” She nudges you.

You raise a brow, “Did you just call me a—?”

“Plans, ___. Stay on track.” She scolds.

You sigh, still fond but you pretend to be annoyed. You really couldn’t get annoyed with Yena. After all, the more time you spend with her the more you realise how much life sucked before you had her in your life. You spent each moment learning more about her quirks and habits, her choice of words that made you giggle or laugh until you were crying.

And you realise that this is how she loves, a little rough but welcomed nonetheless.

“If you’re talking about my birthday then … not much. I’m probably stuck doing admin work for the college’s charity programme.” You shrug, stabbing a fork into your soiled salad.

Yena gapes at you, “Not much—excuse me? It’s your birthday! You’re turning twenty-five!”

You look at her dryly, “I’ve been twenty-five since the year—”

She groans, “That’s not the same! You’re like—officially twenty-five. You’re literally hitting the mark for a quarter-life crisis. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Me going through an existential crisis at the end of my degree is not how I want to celebrate my birthday but okay,” You blink.

She rolls her eyes at your realism.

“That’s not the point. Point is, this is our first birthday together and I want it to be special.” She points out.

You snort, “What? Are we doubling my birthday as our monthsary or something?”

She shoves you with a brute force that has you snickering but she continues to pester you anyway.

“You’re so dumb. So smart, but so dumb,” She shakes her head, “You’re always studying or doing some form of work that requires the use of more than one brain cell. You deserve a break. Besides, you have two dudes to pick from on how you’d like to be wined and dined and—”

“Yena!” You whine.

“—it’ll be like an episode of the Bachelorette! But just with a super cool and smart best friend that’ll make the decision for you. It’s not your birthday. It’s ours.” She emphasises towards the end.

You stare at her for a long second, before the two of you are bursting into laughter at the absurdity of her statement.

It was nice, just to laugh about things without having your heart feel so heavy. Even if it was a mild distraction, it was still wholly pleasant to be able to just talk about mindless things that didn’t require much mental gymnastics to navigate the conversation with.

“What are the two of you laughing about?” Taehyung and Jimin arrive at impeccable timing, sliding into the booth with their own packaged food. It’s very college-student-esque, a cute paper (because no plastic) container filled with an array of assortments.

“None of your XY chromosomes business.” Yena retorts.

Jimin blinks, “You are literally so hostile.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to be.” She sticks her tongue out petulantly.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder, “Be nice.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but manages to keep a civil smile on his face. Always the more rational one between the two.

“Anyway, Yena definitely isn’t going to answer me so, what’s up?” He turns to look at you.

You roll your eyes but it’s half-hearted, “She wants to celebrate my birthday like we’re on the Bachelorette.”

“Like you’re on the Bachelorette.” She corrects.

“Oh my God, our baby’s turning twenty-five!” Jimin coos at the reminder, pinching your cheeks as he coddles you. You scowl and weakly shove him away, even if you preen under the attention.

“I’m literally older than the both of you.” You huff.

Yena blinks, “There’s no way I’m the oldest person at this table.”

Taehyung furrows his brows, “Wait—how old are you?”

She sends him a scathing glare that has his arms raised up in defence.

“Jeez, okay. Don’t answer.”

“I’m going to answer because you told me not to.” She clips. “I’m twenty-seven.”

Jimin blinks, “No wonder you and Yoongi hyung are so alike.”

You almost miss it, but as Yena so eloquently pointed out, you were a sucker for psychoanalysing people (even if you didn’t want to admit it yet) that you notice the way she flushes ever so slightly as she scoffs.

“Him? How dare you compare me to that sorry excuse of a—!”

“Okay, everyone is beneath you. I’m sorry your highness.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

You make a note to ask her about it because you know for a fact that Yoongi ‘complains’ about Yena every hour he can. It’s almost as if he can’t go long enough without mentioning her.

You smile to yourself as you duck your head.

“Exactly,” She flips her hair over her shoulders before turning to face you. “Anyway, back to you—our baby.”

Taehyung nods, “Exactly, the baby.”

You scrunch your nose, “Don’t coddle me.”

He pats your head before cooing at you like he would to an actual baby, “But you’re just so cute. You’re too good for this shitty world. Too good for the likes of mere mortals like us.”

“Not me.” Yena blinks before gesturing to their bodies, “You.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out in retaliation as you sigh at their never-ending bickering.

Somehow … it felt right. You think it most of the times but you don’t know any other way to describe how it feels to be back with your friends, laughing, bickering and just appreciating their presence.

When you and Jungkook had your issues, it was like you made the conscious choice to avoid everyone and anyone as much as you could, and any interaction you had during that period was purely out of coincidences and not the intention. You remember actively avoiding Jimin and Taehyung because it felt too draining to pretend like you didn’t have a battle in your head. Even studying or spending time with Namjoon made you feel guilty, the thought of Jungkook lingering in your mind. Yena was there through it all, but even then you saw her as much as you did with any of your classmates you so happened to share a class with.

In fact, if it weren’t for Yena you’d probably have zero social interactions as a whole because she just knew. She somehow picked up on your internal conflicts but never outwardly shamed you or confronted you about it. All she did was be there for you, offering you her presence and you were grateful.

So, yeah. Things were better, but your heart was still at its core—confused. Your feelings for Jungkook didn’t disappear overnight and you knew that you were the one that asked for space.

You forgave him … you did, honestly. But there are things you can’t forget, and those are the things that you wished you could. The words he said in principle, was outright shitty. But the fact that it came from him only poked at every single one of your insecurities that you developed over the years.

You knew it wasn’t healthy to compare yourself to other women when they were living vastly different lives than you were, but it’s proven difficult when you’re forced to see these type of women every day, at college, in your community work or on the media.

Believing Jungkook’s apparent feelings for you was harder because, well. Jungkook was Jungkook. He wasn’t just another guy, and despite his shortcomings, he had more merits than he’d let on and you knew that people saw that. It was also the fact that Jungkook had a charm that drew all types of people in. He was soft-spoken but passionate, and people loved a quiet achiever.

You … knew about the women. Way before Jennie and way before the thing between the two of you happened. Jimin and Taehyung would always update you about the new fling or girl he had tied to his hip just as he was in his final year in high school. You had to force a smile every single time they’d snicker and joke about how your Jungkook suddenly became a man overnight.

And you noticed the trend with the women he liked. They were … captivating. Beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe them because they looked like they could carry the world on their shoulders and spark immense change with just the movement of their lips. They were confident and charismatic, outgoing and just the right amount of flirty. You were anything but.

It sucked, majorly, because you spent years agonising over the fact that you were already coined with the older sister title in the group because of the way you acted—just a little more uptight than the average woman your age. You were quiet but loud in the right company; you didn’t like crowds, socialising or mingling around with people you didn’t know and based on your observations it seemed like that was the only thing that Jungkook’s been doing ever since he made it to senior year in high school, and even in the first years of college.

You don’t resent him, you think. You couldn’t blame him because you weren’t honest either. You consented, to all of the kisses and touches even if he hadn’t officially had sex with you. You wanted to, but you were terrified. Not at the prospect of penetration but at the prospect of not being enough and the fact that Jungkook was the only person you wanted to have sex with while he had options that were far more attractive and experienced than you were.

That’s why you needed time because at least you could get your shit together even if it was an uphill battle.

“Earth to ____?” Taehyung waves a hand in front of your face with a concerned expression.

You blink, snapping out of your daze as you offer a meek smile and an apology.

“We just asked you if you wanted a small get together at Tae’s and I’s place for your birthday?” Jimin asks.

“Really?” You beam. That was exactly what you preferred.

“Yeah, we know you don’t like clubs and stuff. Just a small and intimate gathering with all your best buds.” He grins.

You nod your head, but Yena beats you to a response.

“By best buds you mean the three friends she has, which is us and the two meatheads duelling for her affection.” She snorts.

You flush, “Y-Yena!”

Taehyung snickers at your embarrassment.

“It doesn’t help that both of them are literally the biggest dudes on the football team. It’s literally like watching King Kong and Godzilla getting into a fight for world domination.”

Jimin throws his back in laughter as you fold your arms across your chest at post at the way your friends are practically crying in laughter at the image. Jimin was clutching onto Taehyung for his dear life because if he didn’t then he’d fall off the chair.

“Stop,” You whine, “you guys are being mean.”

“Oh my God, you’re literally the only person on this earth that would take two people fighting for your attention as an offence.” Taehyung groans.

“I-It’s not that!” You deny exasperatedly, “I-It’s just … awkward …”

Jimin sighs with a small smile, patting your head.

“If it’s any consolation I think it’s offensive that Jungkook thinks he even has the right to breathe in—”

“Jimin!”

“Wow. It really is like King Kong and Godzilla.” Jimin whistles lowly, eyeing the scene before him with amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Do you think they’re gonna start slamming their chests soon or …?” Taehyung trails off in a whisper, leaning into Jimin so that the two other men wouldn’t notice.

“I can literally hear you.” You say dryly.

Jimin offers you a plastic smile, “You’re meant to hear us, babe. How about you try to tame them like Jane did with Tarzan?”

Jimin nearly shrieks when you shove him so fiercely that he topples over into Taehyung’s grasp as the second part of the duo only catches him in the process.

You sigh, completely ignoring the way that Jimin’s muttering curses that were directed to you under his breath. Instead, you were transfixed on the scene before you—which specifically is Jungkook and Namjoon staring each other down through the mirror of the gym. You were lucky that it was just the five of you since Namjoon was able to use his captain privileges to book the gym because you had no idea how to explain the fact that two big-sized men were attempting to outdo each other in their circuit reps as if they were on a suicide mission.

“Listen, when I agreed to help you out with your sets I thought I was meant to help log it in for a report.” You exasperate, but the two men continue their manly lift-off as they huff and puff their exertion away.

“Trust me, you are helping. Being the motivation is more than—”

This time it’s Taehyung who faces your wrath as you thwack him upside the head.

From where Jungkook and Namjoon were, Jungkook can only deliver death stares into the direction of his captain who returns it tenfold. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this but something a flicked definitely switched in Jungkook when Namjoon (purposefully) revealed that you were helping out with something. At the gym. Supposedly alone.

Jungkook’s primitive side came out because the next thing Namjoon knew was that Jungkook managed to drag himself, and Jimin and Taehyung as a diversion. He still feels his chest swell with pride when recalling the scowl on Namjoon’s face when he entered the gym, all fake smiles and a pep in his step.

“____, could you help me spot?” Namjoon breathes, sitting up from whatever the hell he was doing with the barbell. You weren’t fixated with gym language and you weren’t even sure why he was asking you when there was an entire Jimin and Taehyung right next to you.

“Uh, okay sure—“

“Noona,” Jungkook calls.

You freeze.

“Jungkook … I thought we established that you don’t need to call me that anymore.” You raise an eyebrow.

You miss the obvious glare that Namjoon shoots his bitchass friend, as well as the snorts that leave Jimin and Taehyung’s mouth.

“Pay attention to me,” Jungkook pouts. Like, actually pouts. You somehow flush because he seemed so much like the younger version of Jungkook who used to always coddle you for attention.

“Okay but after I help—”

“Yeah. After she helps me.” Namjoon interjects, and you nearly jump at the way he’s suddenly behind you, more so—pressed against your back with his hands on your hips as he moves you aside to get to another piece of equipment.

Your breath hitches because while you weren’t exactly invested in Namjoon in the romantic sense, he was undeniably attractive and … big. You could salivate in private.

“Oh my God, do you see that?” Taehyung hisses in a hushed whisper.

“Hyung is petty,” Jimin gawks.

“This is Namjoon we’re talking about. Didn’t he steal all the umbrellas from your dorm because you ratted him out to the librarian when he broke a bookshelf?” Taehyung recalls.

Jimin pauses to retract his mind to that moment.

“He’s so petty and I’m living for it. Look at Kook’s face,” He snickers, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder.

Jungkook only can clench his jaw in return because he knew that you wouldn’t be a fan of him reaching out to strangle the shit out of Namjoon. But the older boy seems fine, if not pleased with how Jungkook’s fuming in his own spot.

“Let me just …” You cock a thumb to Namjoon, before releasing a breath of your own and going to help him with whatever he needed in the first place.

“Jimin can help him. I have a more pressing problem.” He complains.

You stop in your tracks before turning around, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who finally sits up, still staring at you like you held all the solutions in the world.

“Literally wait for your turn,” Namjoon scowls.

“My arm hurts,” Jungkook says, raising his arm to show you.

“I don’t … see anything?” You furrow your brows.

“Because my muscles hurt, Noona,” Jungkook emphasises with a flex of his bicep and you can feel yourself get hot in the way your eyes can’t stray away.

You’re momentarily distracted by the blatant display of muscle by Jungkook that you completely miss the way that Jimin and Taehyung are struggling to breathe because of how hard they’re stifling their laughter or the way that Namjoon is contemplating on throwing the nearest dumbbell into Jungkook’s direction.

You flush, “Okay, you know what? Wait here. Let me get the first aid kit.” You mumble, quickly scampering off to alleviate yourself from the situation.

The moment you leave the room, Namjoon takes two long strides until he reaches where Jungkook’s sat, before wrapping a hand around the arm that was supposedly hurt—and squeezes.

“Ow! What the fuck hyung?!” Jungkook shrieks.

“Don’t hyung me, you brat.” Namjoon seethes, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook gapes, while Jimin and Taehyung watch in amusement.

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?” Jungkook retorts, equally as agitated, “Oh, _____, help spot me! Woe is me! Like she wouldn’t get crushed under you, you meathead!”

“Like you’re any better,” Namjoon snaps, “Oh, Noona, pay attention to me. My arm hurts. You might as well have asked her to change your fucking diapers at the rate you’re acting like a damn child.”

“You’re the one that started all of this!” Jungkook exasperates, “With all due respect hyung, I love you and you’re my captain but I really feel like smashing your head into the wall right now.”

“That’s it?” Namjoon scoffs, “Well I’ll do you one better and let you know that every time you breathe in my direction I feel like—”

“Oh my God will you two idiots shut the fuck up?” Taehyung interjects, snapping at the two boys who pause, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Even Jimin is surprised at Taehyung’s intervention, purely because he was the type that usually let shit slide or let other people put problematic individuals into place. He was the mediator, the diplomat—not usually the aggressor.

“Wha—”

“Another peep and I’m going to smother your body under the dumbbells and leave you here to rot and die.” Taehyung seethes, staring straight into Jungkook’s soul.

That shuts him up.

“Both of you are acting like goddamn children, and for what? To battle out your masculinity to see who gets ____’s attention first?” Taehyung exasperates.

Namjoon clears his throat, “We were just—”

“—acting like a bunch of barbarians who’s never seen civilisation?” Taehyung retorts dryly, “Yeah. Because that’s exactly what this looks like. The two of you are so petty and for what? You two are literally rubbing the last remaining brain cells you have with each other but nothing is coming out from it. Like—nothing. Do you think she’d give a shit which one of you can lift more reps? That means absolutely nothing! She’s already freaked the fuck out at the prospect of her childhood best friend being in love with her and now we have Big Tit Number One and Two battling it out like you’re in the Greek Olympics.”

Jungkook blinks, and Jimin is mildly impressed.

“So before she comes back and tends to Jungkook’s hurt muscle,” Taehyung sneers, eyes narrowing at a guilty-looking Jungkook, “Both of you better sort your shit out.”

Namjoon flushes, embarrassed at the prospect of being called out, all while Jungkook is avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh my God, do you have a crush on each other or something? Apologise!” Taehyung gestures towards the two boys who awkwardly blink at each other, feeling much like reprimanded children.

It’s Namjoon who breaks the silence first, clearly the more mature one in the situation.

“Look … Jungkook,” He sighs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … drag it out like this. I don’t mean it maliciously and you’re my friend and teammate, so I’d really hate if a girl got in the way.”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips, eyebrows still scrunched; and the irrational part of him tells him to ignore the apology. But with the way that Taehyung is glaring him down, with Jimin’s expectant gaze, he knows that he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“I’m sorry … too,” he winces at his own voice, “But just to let you know … I really …” He shuts his eyes, feeling his chest tighten when he tries to force the words out, “She isn’t just … a girl to me, hyung. I really, really like her. And—I know you like her too but … I fucked up and I really want to make things right and seeing you—”

Jungkook is flushing while he rambles on, fully aware that the rest of his friends are listening intently to him speaking his heart. But a hand rests itself on his shoulder, and when Jungkook opens his eyes he sees Namjoon offering him a gentle smile.

“I know,” He says, “I know I said I wouldn’t back off …” He trails off and Jungkook recalls the conversation he had with him in the very same gym just a few weeks back, “But I don’t think I can compete with a decade long love story.”

Jungkook scoffs, though his ears are flushed.

“It’s really not—”

Namjoon waves him off, clasping a tight hand onto his back that tells him it’s okay, and whatever that was going on would get better. And Jungkook feels marginally better and allows himself to let out a sigh of release.

“So are the two of you gonna kiss or what?” Jimin asks in the midst of the silence.

Namjoon glares at the boy, “Don’t make me give you an extra ten laps.”

He backs down immediately, raising his hands up in defence. And at that moment, you return, all smiles and with a pant as you raise the first aid kit up.

“Your arm?” You smile sweetly, and Jungkook can only offer a weak on in return.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends. Will I have to run from the government if I answer you honestly?” Yena ponders out loud.

You roll your eyes but shake your head anyway. The two of you were meant to be cooking dinner but you’ve surrendered yourself to Netflix and Yena’s witty live commentary on horrible films you were scrolling through an hour earlier. Though, your head wasn’t quite in it, to begin with; your thoughts drifting to other aspects, ones that you thought too hard for and didn’t necessarily know the answer to.

It was frustrating, the way that you wanted to have a solution for everything but overthought every single case that happens to pass by your mind.

“No one’s hunting anyone down, your anarchist,” You say, “This is a little … personal.”

You didn’t have any girl friends prior to Yena, and that was your first mistake. You weren’t the person that actively avoided having girl friends because you thought they were dramatic or overly emotional but purely because you never knew how to befriend women. It was weird—being a woman yet being muddled with your own sense of femininity that suppressed your ability to form meaningful friendships with your women peers.

Throughout most of your childhood and teenaged life, you only had Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. While they were more than enough to keep your memories cheerful and filled with laughter, there were more personal things that you couldn’t quite approach them with. They had each other to confide in their ‘manly’ discussions, small talk that you’d often flush at—but you couldn’t ask them the same things you wanted to.

You knew, that on a fundamental level that your personal things were just … things. It wasn’t that deep, nor did it require a PhD in Gender Studies to fully understand the nuance of periods or apparent ‘girl’ problems; you just needed to listen. But you were timid, and you got embarrassed super easily—so that never boded well whenever you’d want to approach them with a question of your own.

But now, you had Yena—debatably the most open and understanding person you’ve met in your life; and you owed it to yourself, and her—to be honest, to live yourself vicariously in your girl best friends eyes—and ask:

“How do you have sex?”

Granted, there was definitely a smoother way of peeling off the bandaid, but you supposed if you were going to be discussing this one way or another, you’d go big or go home.

“I’m sorry,” She coughs, “What?”

You blink.

“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you were a virgin first …” You mumble.

Yena stares at you with a stupefied expression as she gapes at you.

“Hey, repeat after me: candy, tree and cat.” She grabs you by your shoulders.

“I’m not cerebrally compromised, Yena,” you say dryly.

“Repeat,” She glares.

You huff, shoving her hand off your shoulder.

“Candy, tree and cat. There, happy?” You huff.

She eyes you weirdly as you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes!” You exasperate, “So like … how? Do you just? Penetrate?”

Yena blinks one more time, her eyes trailing to the ceiling as she asks for a higher being to give her strength before she returns her gaze onto your figure.

“Babe, that is literally the unsexiest way to approach sex.”

“Penetration?” You furrow your brows.

She scrunches her brows, “No.” She gestures to you, “That.”

You scowl.

“I don’t know how to approach sex! That’s why I’m asking you. I literally don’t know who else to approach. If I went to Jimin or Taehyung I’m pretty sure they’d just stare at me and cry. Namjoon is out of the picture because he’d likely approach sex textbook style and I don’t need that level of detail right now. I definitely can’t ask Jungkook because he’s the guy I wanna have sex with. So yeah. I’m here because you’re a woman and the only person I can have a full conversation with without losing my will to live.”

Yena gawks at you, jaw slack as you finish your ramble; ears flushed.

“… you …” She begins, wracking her brain for the words that seem to fail her, “… okay. You know what, the fact that you’re here and putting your big girl pants on and asking me this is a feat in itself so I’m going to just ignore the fact that you said you wanted to have sex with Jungkook.”

You flush, “I was word vomiting—”

“Ah,” She holds her hands up, levelling you with a knowing glare, “If you want honest, you be honest too.”

You slump in your seat, sighing as you nod your head defeatedly.

“Firstly, I’m not a virgin. I could never be a virgin.” Yena declares, “Granted, I’ve slept with three people and two of them were women. But the idiot I lost my virginity to was, unfortunately, of XY chromosomes so … I guess I can answer your questions.”

“I mean … I know how sex works but … approaching it …” You mutter.

“And sex isn’t this groundbreaking act that requires Einstein’s IQ to partake in. It’s both intimate and not, and that’s definitely a personal preference. You can know the semantics of how people have sex, for hets in this case, which is just the classic ol’ penetration method where the penis enters the—”

“Your point?” You exasperate.

“—okay, I got a little carried away. But really, sex isn’t … difficult. It’s scary, I’ll give you that. But you don’t go into your first time thinking you’ll be great at it. Hell, you won’t even like sex that much your first few times unless your partner is a sex demon or something.”

“I mean when Jungkook …” You shudder, “When he … I … you know, did things … it felt …” You fiddle with your fingers. Your ears were undoubtedly on fire, and you were so embarrassed saying these things out loud because it was just so awkward!

“Good? You know I’m not going to judge you for it,” she says pointedly, “That’s what friends are for, right?”

You flush, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew that Yena would never judge you for something as trivial and as unimportant as your sexual endeavours, but this was still a road you’ve yet to properly navigate yourself.

“I … came,” you wince at your breathy voice, “It felt good. And … he’s experienced, you know? I just don’t want to …”

Yena looks at you inquisitively.

“You don’t want to …?”

You sigh deeply, considering your next words with a soft murmur, “I don’t want to not live up to his expectations, you know?”

She frowns at you, “Jungkook’s made some mistakes but you said it yourself. He’s in love with you,” she says softly, “There’s no pressure to have sex with him just because it’s out in the open now, you know?”

You nibble on your lips.

“It’s … more than just that,” you tell her, “I told him I needed time, and really, I do. But it isn’t because I’m confused. I mean, kind of—but really it’s because I don’t want to walk into something and disappoint him … I’m just … scared.”

Yena holds your hand in hers while offering you a gentle smile.

“It’s valid that you’re scared. But there really isn’t anything that can come out of being scared right now. The two of you worked through an obstacle, and here you are creating another one that doesn’t quite exist yet. Trust me, when the time feels right, it does. And you’ll feel ready. Will you still be scared? Maybe. But it’ll feel like it’s meant to fit within your timeline.”

You nibble on your lips, “Is it bad that I’m overthinking this?” You wince.

Yena shrugs her shoulders, “Like everything else in your life?” She teases.

You whine, shoving at her shoulder playfully where all Yena does is snicker in response. You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting out of the conversation, even if it was vaguely about the ins and outs of sexual exploration. And she was right, you’ll always be afraid of something, whether it’ll benefit you or harm you because that’s what change does. It shifts your comfort zone into a space that may be unfamiliar but necessary.

You lean into Yena’s shoulder, and a wave of overwhelming emotion washes upon you when you look at her. You really didn’t know how you survived a time without Yena in your life. And as if she’s noticed your glassy gaze, she raises an eyebrow at you.

“What are you looking at?”

You grin at her, all teeth and gums on display as you hug onto her arm like a koala.

“I’m just really happy you’re in my life.” You sigh wistfully.

She pauses for one whole second before she snorts.

“Wow, talk about sex once and suddenly you’re in love with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, “Tell Jeon and Kim that you’re mine now.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes.

“They’re not even competing in the same league as you are,” you assure her.

She smiles.

“So … does that mean I don’t need to get you a birthday gift?”

That earns a thwack on her shoulder.

551 notes · View notes

saturnsstufff · 3 years ago

Text

The Blade and The Crow

warnings: mentions of death

Immortals are painted so delicately high in stories. Each brush stroke gently and precisely placed, placed without flaw. Immortal's either see Mortal's as a soft malleable child, open and willing to learn, yet desperately in need of guidance. Or they see them as fools, not cautious enough with their limited time.

When the Angel Of Death saw Mortal's he saw them as pure Fools. Too stupid and naïve in the understanding of God's, and Immortals. What made him turn his nose up the most however was their lacking in interest. They didn't want to learn, or understand the unnatural order. Mortals shunned the forbidden knowledge, to Phil- someone who loved to learn, someone who soaked information up seamlessly, he couldn't understand their uninterest.

Philza was young however, he was still new to this... power. No matter how long Immortals live their is always a beginning. A start to their story, a single hushed word, maybe written, thought, or spoken, sometimes even screamed, whether gloriously or in sin. sometimes their beginnings aren't wrote or even spoke of, sometimes they are painted, mostly because words cannot begin to explain.

When Phil started becoming Devine, he honestly didn't think much about it, frankly he didn't even understand it was happening. He was a teen, young, a bit of a lady killer if you asked around, but entirely he was kind and quite generous. His parents focused on raising a kind son, the type any girl could bring hoe to her parents and be proud of. Truthfully, between his never ending manners and his strive for hard work, it was hard to not be proud of him, or at least acknowledge he was striving for the stars.

Phil's story started Hushed, soft, gentle even. Like a slow morning. The sun slowly leaving it's hidden spot. Shining and blossoming out to something much larger, sometimes more threatening. Just like that Sunrise, no matter how small and frail he was, by the end of eons Phil would become something more threatening, and terrifying. Some wouldn't even know he was born a child, for every story and legend taken down described him as a immortal elder who flew trough eons as a blood thirsty, torn man.

However, about his teens he started to notice his aging slowing down dramatically. His mother would always play it off as having a young baby face. The common thing any mother would tell her child. “Oh it’s just your youth showing, no need to worry”, “It’s just a baby face, your father had it too” all things he was told. He believed it too, after all, was he supposed to look into it?

Sadly this odd aging became more apparent with every new year. By Nineteen he roughly looked about fifteen, when he turned twenty, he similarly looked the same. Because of this oddity he found himself staying home, or keeping away from the public more and more, not wishing to be ridiculed or looked at as a medical mystery.

He tried to grow close to some at least, some girls still lingered to his kindness. That was until they looked like a older woman carrying a child around on her arm. After being left so many times, Phil couldn't help but draw back, and subconsciously shut himself down on seeking out a possible partner. After all, who wanted to bee seen with a child?

When he matured into his thirties, he moved into a cottage by himself. He lied to his mother about the reasoning, telling her he wanted to explore the world more, grow up and experience it all. He knew his father wouldn't need help around the house anymore so it was perfect timing for the excuse. However, deep down he knew he was only leaving because he didn't want the village people to see a thirty-year old looking like a nineteen year old.

After his departure he only came back for two things. His Father’s and his Mother’s Funeral. He would always kick himself in the future when he looked back on his mothers death. He couldn't stay through her whole service, not because of the tears he shed, but because of the lingering comments the villagers made. They didn't recognize Phil, thus they assumed he never showed. So instead of whispering saddened through's about her missing child, they down talked him. They cursed his “absence”, they wished Ill on him, they hoped he suffered for it.

When Phil thinks back on this, he always remembers this as the first time he felt something deep within him stir.

For every word, every curse... Every ill will...

He wished it back tenfold.

“Shame their boy didn't show, I thought he was so kind”

‘Shame you don't open your eyes’

“Don't you think he would at least show? I mean its a funeral, its not like he had anyone else.”

‘I don't see anyone at your funeral, not with how you keep both faces upturned’

“I hope he remembers missing his mothers death, I hope it stays with him forever”

‘rot in hell’

He knew most of his anger was from grief, he knew he shouldn't take it out on the others, it wasn't the right thing to do.

But that didn't stop him from doing it anyway.

He should have been about a hundred now. he was easily old, yet he looked no older than twenty. He couldn't explain it, but that didn't stop him from living, he still kept going day to day.

After a few more he left the pew, no longer waiting to hear what else they had to say about his absence.

After he hit three digit numbers, he started to change drastically...

He met a woman on his One hundred, and fiftieth birthday, and Oh would he always remember her. She never gave her name, yet Phil trusted her with his whole heart.

She came to him when he was out late hunting. The night was cold, the first snowfall hadn't been long ago, so as Phil prowled the woods his breath came out in puff’s, the cloud showing his shaky breath. At first he thought he was seeing things, shadows moving too swiftly for a pure animal. He would see one on his left, then swiftly from behind him, then to his right. it was enough to drive anyone insane at the thought.

Pushing aside his fear, he drew the sting of his bow back, assuming a black bear had taken interest into his loneliness, prowling alongside him, waiting to send him back to his mothers grave in bits. Phil was wise enough to know the situation of “You or Me, we both cant leave” So before the bear could strike he pulled the arrow back, tucking the nock against the corner of his lip, the fletching brushing his cheek in the process, giving contrast to the cold night. With the arrow ready, he waited for the sound of movement.

When he herd the wind pass by his ear in a swift breeze, he released a breath and turned, releasing the arrow from his grip, letting the arrow pierce the air, waiting for the sound of a hit.

But it didn't come.

Instead, when he turned to see his kill, he saw a kind woman looking down at him. She was tall, yet beautiful in every point, wings of gold glittered under the moonlight, acting like a natural halo behind her. Her face was hidden by her black veil, black curls kissing her cheeks as they fell over her shoulder. Not only was Phil stunned, but he was left speechless when he saw her holding his arrow, the arrow he shot in hopes to end animal.

“Well hello there little one”

#philza fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction #technoblade #Philza #TBaTC

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lil-pine-mha-drabbles · 4 years ago

Note

Can u please write a Shoto fanfic (or could be for multiple characters) inspired by Murders by Miracle Musical? 😭😭😭 The line "all for nothing at all" hits very VERY hard for me. Can u make it as angst as possible too?

Todoroki Shoto x Murderer Reader

I listened to that song a bunch and still my brain didn’t process all of the story in that song, I hope that you will still enjoy this. I did work hard and I think I did ok, but I put my own spin on it.

TW: A LOT of blood, a few swear words, and heavy(ish) angst.

I got too into the storyline I forgot all the actual angst I was supposed to put in.

Here are some people that inspire me, @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 2567 words to read below the line!

————————————

Were the woods always this scary?

The leaves rustled and the wind whistled as it sifted through the dark branches. It would have been a peaceful day if it weren’t for the darkness that had been put over the woods. You looked up through the cracks in the leaves to see that the sky was beginning to darken as well. You picked up your axe and wiped of the blood of the animal laying dead on the ground, the blood pooling around your feet. The smell was enticingly sweet, the scent of blood always fascinated you. As you grew older you figured out your favorite type of blood was human, there was something about the fact that there was no fur to get matted when the liquid gushed out leaving you in excitement to see the beautiful color on the white or chocolate skin.

You may be a murderer but you didn’t discriminate. You hoped desperately to find another human in these woods to harvest but you would wait and kill others patiently. The hunt is what you enjoyed; the feeling of raw adrenaline as you ran after your prey.

You had a quirk, and that quirk was a shifting quirk. You could change into any animal; real or fantasy that you could think of, but... whatever you choose you keep the appetite and diet of that chosen creature for a week.

If say, you wanted to be a horse, you would eat grass for a week, even after shifting back, if you wanted to be a dragon, you would be eating meat and spewing fire all week.

But, if you shifted into a herbivore then into a carnivore, you would not only be eating meat AND plants, you would have double the hunger for blood. To most people that would horrify them, but since you drank blood like apple juice, you had no problem going on a killing spree to sedate your desire.

You picked up the blood in the buckets you brought and rang out the already mangled body over the container. Finally you grabbed your shovel and dug by a dried tree. Soil that has a calcium deficiency ate up bodies quickly. If you buried and animal under a tree, the roots would wrap around the white bones in haste to receive their needed vitamin.

After the burial was complete you picked up the two buckets and walked to your cabin.

Now, these woods were special. There was a fountain of mirrors which showed your true inner self but only few have seen it. Those who have are trapped in the woods forever to guard the fountain from others who wish to see themselves.

You sniffed the air and quietly put down your buckets when you smelled it. Fresh prey.

Someone was in the woods whether they’re lost or they’re looking for the fountain, you don’t care, you’ll drink them up either way and leave their bones to the trees of the forest.

You turned into a bunny and jumped over boulders and bushes to reach the heavenly smell. It was sweeter then any human you have ever smelled, but it was surrounded by two other people. Well, you could eat two and save the sweetest for later, like a dessert.

There was a girl and two boys walking with picnic baskets through your woods. The girl was wearing bright pink, easy to spot. One boy had green hair that just made you want to rip out and watch the blood fall from the open scalp.

The last was the sweetest one. His hair was red and white, he would be easy to track down. If he ran you could sniff him out, or look through the darkness for his bright self.

The girl would be easiest to lure, you thought. She would like to chase the cute little bunny, but would ultimately get eaten by the big bad wolf.

You hopped out in front of the girl and her eyes went wide as she squealed to the boys next her how cute you were.

“Hoe, I am gorgeous, not cute.” You thought to yourself bitterly.

You hopped a little father away and the white and red haired boy tried to stop her.

“Uraraka, it’s dangerous in these woods, I wouldn’t recommend chasing the bunny.” He looked through you like he knew everything about you and you shook with anticipation.

Oh, this would be fun.

“Look, it’s cold. It’s shaking so much... please, I gotta help it.” You rolled your eyes and hopped away looking like you were limping. Your sweetest prey just sighed and waved her off like he knew she would be killed by you. The girl smiled and ran after you while the boys waited on the path for her.

When you lead her far enough that the boys wouldn’t see your smallest dragon form, you changed rapidly, stretching over her, your head curled around to the other side so she couldn’t run. You let her scream and then bit.

The blood squelched in your mouth as the neck snapped and your eyes rolled back at how good the flavor was. You sucked and sucked until she was nothing but a dried carcass on the floor.

You flew to the trees in your terrifying black creature form. “The Black Chaos.” The only way to describe this form is it looks like the chupacabra. Black fur that looked like porcupine quills, tail covered in spikes, claws as thin and as sharp as the sharpest knife, and wings that could cut through the thickest tree trunks in your way.

The two boys ran as fast as they could to where they heard the scream only for the green one to start bawling about his love, and your sweet, sweet prey looked around to assess the situation. He looked at all the trees till he locked eyes with you. His left side covered it self in flames and his right put a field of ice around his now screaming friend. You smiled at him, teeth glistening with the blood of the girl. Your eyes stayed on him as you flew up and over the trees.

He breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking you had left until he heard his ice shatter and you fly out, holding his last friend’s neck between your teeth. He was paralyzed with fear while sucked all of the blood from his friend while you locked eyes.

He couldn’t maintain eye contact much longer and turned to the side to throw up. You changed your form into your human body and watched from a distance curiously. Why did he feel sick? You were only eating a meal. Did he dislike you?

You had never felt this feeling before. It was one of dread and confusion, maybe, guilt. You watched him spill his guts for a bit more before he wiped his mouth and looked at you sitting on the ground, legs crossed, head tilted like a confused child.

“Why do you come to my woods, red one?” You asked.

“Why did you eat my friends?!”

“I was just having dinner, what’s the big deal? I’d rather have meals then friends.” You stated to him plainly.

He looked at you funny.

“I’m not afraid of death. When will you kill me?”

“Rather bold of you to think I was going to eat my dessert on a full stomach.” You looked at your black claw-like nails in thought.

“Dessert?”

“Dessert, your starting to get on my nerves. I might just keep you as punishment.”

“Is this some kind of sick twisted flirting?!” Tears streamed down his face, his eyes puffy red, and the darkness around him made you almost purr he looked so gorgeous.

“Is it working?” This time you did purr, your words surprised the boy as he flopped down onto the floor in defeat. “Well?” You asked again.

“Maybe you should have come up like a normal person and asked me on a date instead of EATING MY FRIENDS!?”

“I can see why you’re mad, but what is ‘date’?”

“A date, like where you take someone you might want to marry out to dinner or something.”

“Like a courtship then?”

“How old are you?” He asked curiosity lacing his voice as you purred because of the lovely sound.

“I was born in 1823. Lovely time I must admit, until they tried to burn me at the stake because I was the only person with a quirk.” You rolled your eyes then smile suddenly at the boy in front of you.

“How,” he coughed, “how old were you when you were killed?”

“Oh dear me, no, I wasn’t killed! I escaped into these woods, of course!!” Your smile must’ve grown larger because he looked like he became more uncomfortable. “Sorry, I smile too much.”

“No, you don’t smile too much, I just became uncomfortable because I’m sitting right next to my best friends’ corpses. No biggie.” He said with what you believed was sarcasm.

“I remember the first time I sat next to my best friend’s dead corpse, my father killed her when he found us kissing behind the barn! He wasn’t pleased that his daughter was becoming a ‘whore’. But! I showed him, after years of abuse from that bastard, I sucked his brains right out of his empty eye sockets! Good times, good times!” You laughed bitterly. “You probably think I’m some freak right? A girl can’t like girls and guys, it’s immoral.”

“Well, that’s not why I find you a freak, but you’re fine. It’s called being a bisexual. It’s not super new but it’s definitely more widely excepted now days.” He smiled at you slightly which made you smile a bit.

You two talked through the night like that. He explained that his father was emotionally and physically abusing him, and he had problems with showing emotion because of it. He wasn’t exactly “okay” with you killing his friends but he seemed more excepting then anyone you could think of.

You’d been with Shoto for months now. He was forever forced to stay in the woods. (With you not letting him leave only to go back to his father, it could be quite difficult.)

You talked about everything and anything, he taught you how to cook meat and how to prepare a meal without drinking blood. You stayed in your human form for the rest of the time he was with you and the only animals you were ever allowed to transform into were herbivores, which made sense. You hadn’t eaten raw meat in months and you thought you were doing better.

You thought.

You warned him. “Full moon is coming, stay in the cabin when I’m out, don’t leave. I won’t be able to control myself.” You told him, over, and over, and OVER. He didn’t LISTEN.

You were out in your most dangerous form, the Black Chaos. Wings spread out you hunted without being able to stop yourself. This was the only time of year you physically couldn’t restrain yourself from hurting others, and killing, and hunting.

Over the past hundreds of years that you’ve roamed these woods, this was the only time you were scared of yourself. You hated the way you couldn’t control yourself when you smell the slightest bit of sweet blood.

You had hunted ninety-nine beasts in the forest, bears, wolves, bunnies, foxes, dogs, dear, frogs, if they had meat on them, they were dead. Every time you hunt like this you count how many you kill.

It’s always a hundred. Exactly.

The moon was falling fast and you felt yourself slowly come back but something wasn’t right, you had seen a few animals pass you but you had no intention of killing them, yet you only had ninety-nine.

What was your body waiting for?

You looked out towards where the sun was rising and felt yourself stay on edge. Whatever was happening, Black Chaos still held the rains of your body.

That’s when it hit. The sweetest scent, Shoto.

He must’ve left the cabin looking for you now that the sun had risen, you wanted to call out to him, scream, “run!!! Stay away!!” But no words left your mouth as your body surged forward, bounding on all fours, not even utilizing your wings.

You saw the head of red and white hair in the distance and you finally let out and agonizing scream. “RUN!!!” That was all you could say before your eyes turned red and he turned and ran.

The chase was on.

You could hear his breathy huffs as he ran you could hear the leaves crunch under his feet, his sobs that wracked his body as his tears fell. He was terrified, of YOU.

You were screaming and crying and trying to stop this mess but the thing inside you wouldn’t stop seeking blood, his blood.

Finally after twenty minutes of running and crying on both parts, he tripped and you loomed over him, your long black tongue lolled out and touched his face, caressing it sweetly, wiping his tears as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Not only from all of the running, but also the fear of you.

He always said he wasn’t afraid of death but after looking into your eyes, your eyes that held death, he realized something. He was afraid, but he was in love with death. He loved you. YOU. The one who comforted him and joked with him and learned how to be human from him.

“I love you!” He yelled out as your long tentacle tongue wrapped around his neck, your teeth inches away from biting down.

“I love you so much it aches! I want to live with you forever! I want to teach you to be human and hug you when you’re sad!” He cried and cried and watched as your own tears fell for your eyes.

Then you bit down.

You screamed in agonizing pain as your only love was ripped from you by yourself. You did this. Your human form came back to you and you slammed you fists on Shoto’s chest.

“I love you so fucking much!”

“I’m so sorry!!! I’m so sorry!! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry... I’m so—“ your laid your head on his chest and cried and cried and cried.

Shoto’s hands moved to your face and wiped your tears.

“I love you too. You’re wonderful.”

You hugged him tightly crying harder in relief. How was he alive?

“It’s cliché to say that your love woke me up, but look at where we are.”

You look around and a smile made it’s way to your face. You were in the Fountain of Mirrors. The water had already healed Shoto’s neck.

He had tripped into the shallow pool when you were chasing him and you were too worried about him to see that you were surrounded by the water.

“You’re a guardian now. Of the woods, I mean.” You laughed threw your sobs.

“I know. And I will be forever.”

And so, you and Shoto live in the forest of Murder for the rest of the days of the earth. You looked into the mirror to see yourself a beautiful swan, you were no longer Black Chaos, you were White Savior, helping all people away from the fountain instead of gobbling them up.

The End.

#anime #mha drabbles #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x you #angst #murder #mha fanfiction #monster reader #witch reader #mha todoroki x reader #mha todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki

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miyaniacs · 4 years ago

Text

Mafia AU - Bokuto x fem!reader

A/n: uhmmm sorry for not updating ... i haven’t been motivated to continue this and then i did and forgot that i had this update lol... so here you are. The beginning of the downfall is here. Sooo Tbh it will Kinda depend on your responds to this chapter if it will take months for me to continue it - or days 🙇🏼‍♀️

Chapter 12 - A decision is made

Index ; masterlist ; Chapter 11 - The encounter

Warnings: uhhh... violence? Mentions of guns

Bokutos POV

Monday 12 am

I want to punish him. I want to hurt him the way he hurt her, by messing up her life.

He looks at Ushijima with hate filled eyes, his whole aura shifts when he sees his arrogant smirk.

Why is he so sure of himself?

Does he really think that he, Bokuto, wouldn’t beat the shit out of him, right here in his office?

“Oh and Bokuto - hope you have fun with that hoe.” Ushijima smirks and now Bokuto fully breaks.

“Call her a hoe one more time.” Bokuto hisses. Furious wasn’t enough to describe what he was feeling right now. He was boiling with pure hate, his fist was ready to collide with this arrogant face of the male in front of him. He was ready to sent him straight into the hospital, hell he was even ready to kill him right here.

The one thing that was holding him back was the fact that such a quick death would be way too ‘nice’. He needs to suffer, he wants to break him, makes him feel all the pain in the world. Slowly peeling the skin off his body, until he begs him to finally kill him.

“And what are you doing then? Huh? I’m just telling the truth. She would have went to bed with you straight away the first time you saw her, just to get close to you and get informations.” Ushijimas face is now almost touching his, sparks flying, both ready to beat each other up. “That’s only because you’d force her to do so.”

He laughs again. What is so funny, was it all a joke to Ushijima? A joke that he ruined your life, forcing you to throw yourself at random man, just to get information out of them? And for what? A small amount of money, comparing to what Ushijima probably owns? Oh he has to deal with the consequences at some point, he has to ... feel the consequences.

He can already see him hanging on a wall, blood dripping off the several cuts on bis body, his arrogance long gone as he looks up at him with eyes, showing that Bokuto did it, that he broke him.

Suddenly he feels someone tugging on his arm and he spins around, taking a few seconds to understand that he is still im the office. The fire in his eyes burning up again as he sees the fearful look on your face. He wants to comfort you and ask what happened, but then the shook took over him. You’re afraid of him.

He takes a few steps back, giving you some room to breath.

He couldn’t talk to you, the knot in his throat hindering him from telling you how sorry he is. Bokuto is lost in his thoughts the whole way back to the car and during the drive.

He is filled with guilt.

He hates himself for showing you this side of him.

All he ever wanted was to be a save space for you, to make you feel home and at peace.

He never wanted you to feel fear when being with him.

He has to do something and he knows exactly what.

“Go inside, I have to discuss something with the boss.” He says without looking at you his eyes still fixed on the street.

“Kou… let me explain… please.”

His heart breaks, you really feel the need to explain? To apologize? When he is the one that hurt you?

“Later.” He says way to cold for his own liking, but he couldn’t start crying now, even though he feels like it. He swallows the emotions that start to well up inside of him “I promise we talk later.” Placing his hands on your face he softens. You’re so beautiful.

He frowns when he sees small tears rolling down your cheeks.

No, why are you crying? He slightly starts panicking inside but tries to not show it. “Don’t cry my love.”

“I’m sorry.” Here you go, apologizing for nothing, at last he doesn’t see a reason why your should apologize to him.

“No, don’t apologise. Non of this is your fault. I should have known better. You already told me how you’ve met Ushijima. It was my fault.”

Regret fills him up again.

Why was he so stupid?

He walked right into Ushijimas trap.

And now you were afraid of him.

He wasn’t good for you.

He wasn’t the right one for you.

The life he lives wasn’t one for you.

He had to get you out of this whole mess, you deserve so much better than this.

Even if that means, for him to leave your life completely.

He leans in for one last kiss.

“No. Don’t say anything. I promise you, you will never see me like this again. I can’t bear knowing that you’re afraid of me, even if it’s only a tiny little bit of you fearing me.” He mumbles before kissing you again. “Now please, get inside. And I hope to find you in one of my sweatshirts when I get back home.”

He hated lying to you.

But he had to.

“Okay, I can’t promise not to take your Vetements one tough.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Whatever I own is yours.”

My heart, my home, my car, my everything, he’ll make sure that you are save when he wasn’t with you anymore.

His cheerful smile dropped the second you were out of sight, he speeds through the city, not caring about the red lights or the other cars.

Monday 3 pm

“Sorry the Boss isn’t here right now.” One for the guards says.

Bokuto rolls his eyes and walks around in the empty office.

“What are you-“ the guard begins, “ I write him a note.” Bokuto huffs and scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Make sure to keep Y/n save.”

He storms out of the building.

The Adlers really think they could simply tick him and the others? By putting Y/n in his life to spy on them? Are they really that desperate to involve such an innocent and pure soul as you into all of this?

The hate he felt for them just increased the more time he got to spent with you. Your pure soul lightens up his day, he smiles whenever he looks at you, his heart warms whenever he sees your smile, when he hears your laugh it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard. All those days he got to spent with you for now, have been the best days of his life.

And how can such a beautiful person like you, work in such a dark world.

This isn’t a world that’s meant for you.

Sure he knows that you’re strong... but he isn’t stupid.

He can see that all of this is just a mask, you got used to this life, but it is not the life you wanted to be involved in. All your sarcasm, the cold look in your eyes, the raised eyebrow with that light smirk playing on you lips, whenever someone is saying something that could definitely get them into jail.

It is all an act.

And he knows that you know that he can see right through it.

Those nights he spent awake next to you, making sure to reassuring you that everything is alright and that he is right next to you, trying to keep all those nightmares away from you. He sees how you turn in your sleep, how your face frowns, he hears all those small no’s. And it breaks his heart whenever he feels your hands grabbing his shirt, clinging on him, burring your face in his chest while you whimper something only you can understand, your whole body shaking out of fear of whatever hunts you in your dreams.

Sure, you play tough, but he knows that deep inside your heart you want to leave all of this behind.

Enough was enough and he certainly had enough.

He takes his phone and type three small words before getting out of his car.

Opening up the trunk he pulled off the flooring revealing countless of guns and knifes.

It was a true old fashioned kamikaze mission, but he didn’t care.

Putting two of the small guns in the back of his pants, he grabs the loaded submachine gun in one hand, takes a deep breath and opens the door.

I’ll get you out of all of this, you’ll be able to live a normal life again, with or without me.

And he pulls the trigger, shooting the first guard.

Your POV

You stand in front of the big window, looking down at the passing people and cars, always looking out for one specific black one, but you couldn’t spot it. The longer you wait, the more restless you get, Bokuto was away for way too long now, he would have told you if it would take longer right?

So why haven’t he come back home now.

Your phone vibrates, before you could check it, you hear the door burst open.

“BOKUTO?!” You can hear Atsumu call out.

“Atsumu?” You walk over to him.

“Where is he?” The person next to him, Sakura asks.

“I was about to ask you the same thing, he dropped me off and told me he has something to do... but that was hours ago...” you mumble the next part, “ You... you don’t know where he is?”

“Does it look like we do?! The Boss is sending all of us out to find him!” Atsumu growls.

“Tell us everything that happened today.” Sakusa demands and you begin talking, describing the whole situation that happened with Ushijima and how Bokuto behaved slightly strange the way back to his.

The three of you stare at each other after you’ve finished and your attentions shifts to the TV.

“BREAKING NEWS - Countless of shots have been heard from the Casino, related to the infamous Adlers, we’re live - Cassie, what do you know?

‘ We all know nothing, civilians could all leave, all of them are talking about only one men, entering the building. The police is still clueless, but a few minutes ago, the shooting stopped and -“

“FUCK!” Atsumu screams and he and Sakusa run out of the door, “YOU STAY HERE!” He shouts before pulling out his phone already calling someone.

No. No. No no no. This can’t be real.

Your mind is racing while you collect your things and rush out of the apartment.

If there is one small chance that Bokuto is still alive, you have to take it, you had to save him at all costs. Even if it means breaking his heart and revealing everything... you just have to everything you can.

Looking down at your phone, you remember the message you got.

From: Bokuto

Please remember that I will always love you.

@tendouthighs , @lilacshouko@softhourswithseb @theperksofcoffee @cuddlesslut @shhhlikeme, @kynyta @yammmers @asahi-is-jesus-periodt @hxnni-bxnni @theduvetpirate @chromaticstudio@gywjd0131 @haikyuusimp91 @kara-grayson04 @saucysamu @brokeyiam

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshot #bokuto x yn #bokuto x reader #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu hc

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moon-nymphet · 4 years ago

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Hcs or scenario (whatever you like!) *warning extreme angst* oikawa, kuroo and osamu with a crush. They mutually like each other but never made a move to progress anything. One day another girl comes along and the boys move onto them instead. Crush is upset but accepts it and backs off. A bit later the boys realise the new girl they’re with was just something fresh and new and they don’t actually like them. They want to go back to oh crush but they already have no feelings for them anymore 😢😢

i swear i cried real tears while writing this, i love destroying my own mental health (∪ ◡ ∪) and ahhh this took me so long to write bc i’m so freaking insecure about the quality of my writing, i’m sorry this is so bad but there u gooo ♡

♡ we could have been something ;; haikyuu

warnings: angst, rough language

kuroo

you know this type of friendship where the limits are so difuse that the rest of people beggins noticing you had a thing for each other ? that’s what kuroo and you have had for the longest time

kuroo and you spent most of your time hanging out together, you went to see him training and he always called you his girlfriend in front of his teammates just because he loved to see you all flustered, you worried so much about each other almost like a couple, and you were even starting to get along with kenma, so you knew for a fact that you were into each other, or at least that’s what you thought ??

as you two were pretty childish you used to bicker all the time, nothing serious most of the times because none of you could get away more than a day without talking to each other, and when you had this little arguments it was about silly things that didn’t matter

that continued being like that until this day kuroo started reproaching you that he was so tired of trying without a result — “you seem to fucking ignore the obvious signals i’m sending you y/n, are you playing the dumb role ??? i can’t continue like this anymore, i’m sorry but i met this girl and she showed me clearly that she wants to be with me as more than a friend” — and leaving you completely broken, he suddenly walked away from your life without a previous warning

at first you felt so guilty, it was true, you were a bit shy and insecure, but you thought he liked you just the way you were ? but then you understood well how things were in reality, your silly ass thought you two had something meaningful

sure it hurted to see him walking hand in hand with the stereotypical mean girl from highschool movies, but you know the worst part of this ?? it wasn’t her fault, it was his and only his. and that’s what broke you the most

things continued being the same for a while, and to be honest, it was a bit hard at the beggining, but when you finally realized you were just his toy, his distraction, you felt nothing but repulsion towards him

and that’s on why you rejected him so coldly when he left the girl that he “truly loved” to come back to you; yeah he did. and you knew he was regretting so hard leaving you, but you simply couldn’t trust his feelings for you anymore

“please y/n ... i acted like a horny teenager, i just knew things were gonna be easier with her and i was starting to lose hope in having something more with you, but it’s you, it’s always been you” kuroo kneeled in front of you, holding your hand to prevent you from leaving. but you couldn’t do other than looking at him with eyes full of pity, knowing from the beggining what you would say to him

“i’m sorry. i can’t. i don’t trust you anymore kuroo. it was so hard for me, you know ?? you abandoned me without a fucking sign of considerateness” as you abrutly let go of his hand and turned away, leaving him there, tears started falling from the corner of your eye, but no. you weren’t going to turn back to him, you wouldn’t do such harm to yourself

oikawa

were you aware of his reputation ?? the answer is yes, but you felt so happy when you were around him that you didn’t care in the least. “people talk when they have nothing important to do, this boy is such a sweetheart” is what you thought when tooru oikawa started paying you more attention than he did with other girls

he is every girl’s dream, a cute boy who treats you like an absolute princess. toruu took you on inifinity of dates, and you always had such a good time with him, time went by so fast when it was spent with oikawa. you saw life in pink when he picked you up with his car and stared at you, just to let out a “you look so fucking stunning today my little cutie”

at that time you didn’t really understand why you didn’t formalize things once and for all; he looked interested in you and you tried your best to let him know that you were into him too, the intimacy between you two was beggining to grow, you started doing more and more things together, everything was so idyllic it was hard to believe it was all real

but soon you saw the true colors of things, it didn’t take you that much time to learn that oikawa didn’t want to confess he really liked you because he didn’t want to lose all his fangirls.

it was such an ego-booster for tooru to know he had plenty of girls willing to do everything just for a night with him, that he had a big catalogue of girls to choose which one he wanted to have fun with

it’s not that he didn’t like you, it’s just that he wasn’t confident enough for you, and it showed when you saw him flirting with another girl in front of the high school entrance, his lips so close to hers they weren’t touching for a milimeter, leaving you in a big shock. that situation made you feel the dumbest shit ever, you knew who you were dealing with but you thought he was going to be different this time

yeah, you were the dumbest shit ever for believing that

although you waited anxiously for him to call, toruu never called you again from that day, and you couldn’t help but feel so ashamed of yourself. you knew you were fucked when you started feeling sorry for yourself, being such a desperate and ridiculous ass for some fuckboy that didn’t gave a shit about you

a good two weeks had to pass for you to start feeling better, because even if you knew you weren’t his girlfriend, you still felt betrayed. it hurt to see how you were nothing special for him, so replaceable it was even impressive

and talking about impressive, that’s how i’d call the fact that tooru had the audacity to text you after some time like nothing hapenned. “are you angry with me ???” — and the truth is that you weren’t angry, you were never angry with him, your feelings were deeply hurt but that’s all

“tooru ?? what does this means ?” after hesitating for a while if you should text him back and trying to resist the temptation, you ended up doing it

“it means please open the door my little cutie, i’m outside your house ” you couldn’t believe your eyes to what you were reading, but you went and opened the door for him to find out what all of this was about

“can i... ??” the tall setter grabbed your chin with his long and fine fingers, bringing your face closer to his. you didn’t even have time to react, oikawa didn’t finish his sentence but instead he pressed his lips against yours. you were absolutely freaking out, that leading you to break the kiss when you realized what was happening

“the fuck you think you are doing tooru oikawa ? you think you can come here after a whole ass month and act as if nothing happened ??”

“please listen to me y/n, it wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings, i’m sorry if you felt that way. i realized i truly want to be with you” he intensely stared into your eyes with that look of his. it was so alluring you almost gave in, but that wasn’t happening

“i’m not one of that hoes you can fuck one time and never call me back, i’m not that type. you keep saying you’re sorry about me feeling that way, not about what you fucking did. i don’t like you anymore oikawa and i regret so much that i did like you some time ago. and please now i’ll have to ask you to dissapear from my life”

he looked at you for some seconds with watery eyes before leaving without saying a word, and you genuinely weren’t able to tell if he was feeling that way or he was faking it. but that’s it, your story with oikawa tooru, your first and last kiss with him

osamu

your relationship with osamu was so difficult to describe, like, really difficult. you met him some years ago when you started going to inarizaki high and you didn’t really click with each other, but you soon became a great friend of atsumu

and that obviously carries seeing osamu frequently as he’s atsumu’s twin brother and they had quite a good relationship. don’t be mistaken, it’s not that you suddenly clicked and everything was amazing between you two, no

everything remained the same, and i could even say that the tension between osamu and you grew bigger because you simply couldn’t be around the other without bickering and disagreeing on the littlest of the things, that leading to atsumu having to stop you from fighting

but who says that tension wasn’t sexual at all ?? — because if you say so you’re completely wrong. it was so luring for you when he was just as sarcastic as you were with him, or when you said you were fucking tired of his shit and he came up with a defiantly “and what are you gonna do about it, huh ???”

it could be said that you were never attracted to easy things, and that included persons. it was easy to see you hated each other in such a lustful way it could turn into love without none of you noticing

and i’m not gonna lie, that’s what happened, but maybe you weren’t confident enough to confess when you noticed the feeling that started invading your heart. it was difficult to believe it could be reciprocate, but the same thing happened to osamu

none of you gave in to the feeling and things just happened to grow more tense as stupid as it may sound, leading you both to a cloud of confusion about what you should do. sadly, things don’t go always the way we want them to go

that’s what you learned when you were hanging out at atsumu’s and jealousy suddenly consumed you on the spot. osamu nonchalantly entered the house with a girl you didn’t knew, and went all the way to his room with her without even saying his usual “hello you dumbfuck” to you, closing the door behind his back

you couldn’t help it, and you stormed out of the house without even giving atsumu an explanation, you needed to be left alone with your thoughts

for the next days you couldn’t bring the face of that random girl out of your mind for a second, she looked like she knew what she was going to do when she entered osamu’s room, and you wished so bad you were her

but that’s what you got for not confessing on time

even though it was difficult, you had to get used to seeing the boy you like with other girl, and with the pass of time, it became easier and easier. maybe it was because you were starting to feel nothing for him but rage, rage because he didn’t notice you were so into him, or maybe he just didn’t care because he didn’t feel the same

sometimes you would think rationally and in a lucid moment, you realized it was your fault for being a coward ass and not confessing, but that didn’t matter at all because now you were over the romantic feeling, it was just regret what was left, maybe something beautiful could have happened

after some time, atsumu asked you what was going on that day, and now that you weren’t sensitive about that topic anymore you decided to be honest with him and tell him the truth. you could see the anguish in his face and you couldn’t tell why, but you understood it all some days after when osamu came to your house with a nervous aura and you felt even more dumb if it could happen

“i think i like you quite a lot... you dumbfuck” (yeah as you can see you had a beautiful nickname) he let those words out with an annoyed expression in his face

“oh no this can’t be happening now” you thought to yourself. “...samu ??... and what about... her ??”

“i left her y/n. i don’t wanna be with her if i can be with you, she was just the band-aid for my wound... you.” osamu directed his grey gaze to the floor, his expression softened as he confessed this to you. you couldn’t help but break down into tears, this couldn’t be happening to you. “hey... why are you crying y/n? are you okay?” concern showing in his voice

“it’s just that i feel like a true dumbfuck samu.” you tried to smile through your tears and downplay the matter but it was impossible at that point. the boy looked at you with a confused guise, tilting his head to one side and furrowing his brows. “i’m sorry love... i don’t feel like that”

“but tsumu said...” — his words were interrupted by you placing your index finger against his lips as you directed your teary gaze to him.

“not anymore samu... it was a while ago. i’m deeply sorry, you can’t even imagine how much and i hope you can forgive me for being such a dumbass” you tried to say it in the softest way you could because you truly were feeling like that

“hey y/n. don’t worry. it’s not your fault. i get it, come here” you felt osamu’s arms taking you in a tight embrace, giving an end to a beautiful story that didn’t even got time to start

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luffysbasement · 3 years ago

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didn't realize my last one was that long. Geez (this one is also fucking long, bare with me)

I feel like ever since elementary, all our teachers liked to talk about how the opposite of love isn't hate (there was even a text during 6th? grade about this whole thing.)

Tbh I haven't looked much into lore so I only know the gist of it(I'm such shit, but I know I will have literally no time to study if I get invested in the dsmp) so there may be wild guesses here and there down below.

The way Quackity's expressions ranged from stoic to a weirdly kind smile to aggressively scary and ruthless, it's all just so.. *gestures wildly with hands because I have no words* ..angsty. The grip on Dream's hair like he wants him to listen carefully but he is losing all patience and sanity and sympathy for Dream. The crazed look from Quackity(his last block) is just so cold and bitter and kind of filled with self-pity, like he's been there before (I actually don't know if that's the case lmao) it's the look from textbook villians(I know he's not one) when they become insane and starts spilling all that they know in the most poisonous way possible.

Also, again, last block giving me chills. Sapnap's glare and George just walking away with absolutely no care and no desire to turn around sums it up beautifully. Good work, really really beautiful.

-✗

putting this on read more bc i will be ranting LMAO. buckle in, this will be long.

thank you!! :] i absolutely love seeing people see how i organized the colors and panels to be the way they are. and the expressions as well, i had fun making those!

i really like this one bc its short but it goes pretty deep into the lore. i had to think about the flow of the panels and the colors and poses of the comic since its only 3 pages and i dont have much to tell the message aside from those things asgssdfgh

i originally saw the concept (opposite of love isnt hate) from a tiktok HAHAH i dont think weve ever tackled that in literature or anywhere at school unfortunately :(( im a big fan of metaphorical/poetic statements too. tho its technically logical, but weve been so used to hate being described as the opposite of love that its just mind-boggling for me to hear that lol

i actually understand you lol im currently done with school at the present moment but a few months ago i barely even posted, even more drawn anything bc i was so busy with school. since youre still not done, good luck with that!!

but oh lord am i a hoe (a WH**E) for lore.

ive thought of this for a long time now but i just had to urge to get to drawing it when my twt tl starting going deep into c!dream's lore.

i just ABSOLUTELY love lore revolving around the dt. (maybe because im more attached to them whoops)

its just so fascinating to think about. (everything onwards is /rp and /character) also, you said youre not that caught up with lore so if you dont get these things or dont wanna bother/get spoiled, you can just ignore it lol i just really needed to rant about his character thats all, needed to get it off my chest phew

dream from the start had a plan: make everyone on the server hate him and build a prison for someone so strong it'll be needed. for me there is no way he was talking about tommy or techno then. no way.

he definitely had a fall to corruption. what he did with tommy during exile, that one is inexcusable ofc but the other things??? destroying the community house, siding with techno during his arrest, even destroying a whole ass country (this one might just be him reaching his limit against lmanberg, being the first and basically only country to defy him sm and stuff)

its weird and interesting in a way. what he did, the destruction, telling everyone he has no more attachments, not even sapnap and george, putting george on the throne then dethroning him not long after-- all these things just seems like it's part of his plan you know???

but like, what for? why? what does he want? earlier in the smp, he just wanted to build a home for them, one that will grow and be beautiful (theres a certain tiktok edit of this one, i am going to cry) he was such a good guy in the earlier days, he just wanted to take care of the server and take on the responsibilities expected of him but it just all... fell?

but even then, from the start, i cant help but think that he was already alone. sure, he had sapnap and george and the others but after everything: after sapnap was so quick to jump on tommy's side after ONE thing that dream said in the heat of the moment to threaten tommy (the 'i dont care about anything' bit), not trying to clear it up with dream and with george being so quick to side with other people's statement (dream dethroned him bc he hates him, etc) than dream's own (to protect george), its just so sad. not to mention even before everything, those two formed new nations without dream before; while dream was fighting for his own alone, they didn't really care enough. they did this again, with kinoko kingdom but tbf, the destruction of the community house felt like the end of the greater dream smp.

its just... sad and tragic, his whole character. his life is like the joker, baby. BAHAHAHA

anywaaaays

sorry about that, the c!dream apologist in me needed to breathe

glad you think its beautiful hehe <3

#asks #dreblr #imagine fighting for a country you built with your friends for you guys to call home #by yourself #with no one else to care #then falling to madness and corruption #getting painted the villain by everyone #even by your best friends to the point that one of them always assumes if its something destroyed youre to blame #then tortured #for 6 months #then getting told by said best friend that if you escape prison escape torture #he'll kill you #man #also imagine your boyfriend never fucking visits AAHAHAHAHAH #then your semi rival semi colleague is the only one left who views you as a person #IM CRYING SKJFABWKFJBKWEBF FUCK

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liquorisce · 3 years ago

Text

High School Years, Ch 3: aftermath.

pairing: eren x mikasa (SnK)

rating: M. (nsfw)

Summary: for eren and mikasa, love was easy; they'd loved each other forever. but physical attraction? that's a whole other story.

read on ao3 | chap 2 | chap 1

The morning after the… “confrontation”, when they walk to school, they hold hands. It's a new dimension of their ‘relationship’, and the thought of calling it that, of calling Eren her ‘boyfriend,’ is something that makes her feel so many things.

“So um,” she begins, squeezing his hand a little bit, soft pink dusting her cheeks, as he turns to look at her questioningly. “... Are we going to tell the gang?”

For the briefest moment he looks confused, but when he sees her shy expression, not spelling it out because she doesn’t know how to say it yet, his eyes widen in understanding. “Ah that you and I...,” he colours, just a little bit, because it wasn’t until the words were literally at the tip of his tongue, that he realizes he doesn’t know how to say it either.

She’d said it last night, called him her boyfriend, and it did things to him, making his heart constrict with a nervous kind of excitement. Because he was Mikasa’s boyfriend, and that was something of an honour.

But another part of him, the part that recognizes what it means for a high school kid, just finds it completely lacking, he doesn’t want to announce that he’s ‘dating’ Mikasa Ackerman, the word simply does not do it justice. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to hear her name in the gossip rings, from the mouths of shallow, boring girls who have little better to do than keep track of their high school reality show or from the dirty whispers of teenage boys who can’t control their hormones (if Eren is one of them, he doesn’t acknowledge it).

“... Maybe we could just keep it quiet? Just for a little while…” He watches her expressions searchingly, and she does that thing that she does, hides into her bangs when she doesn’t want him to see what she’s thinking and he panics, just a little.

“Hey, listen,” he stops her by the wrist, before they round the corner onto the street of their school. “... It’s not that I want to hide it,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers, because god forbid she thinks he’s embarrassed or ashamed or anything short of absolutely ecstatic, “You know that, right?”

She closes her eyes and she lets the waves of insecurity pass her by. Surely, there was nothing more to worry about. He’d made no secret of the depth of his feelings last night. “Mm-hmm.” She feels his minty breath cool on her lower lip and she reaches up to press her mouth against his. It’s tentative, the way she does it, reserved and shy but completely incomparable. It’s like everything she does, he thinks breathlessly, as he deepens the kiss. There’s no one like her.

She threads her hands into his already messed up hair, breathing harshly as she breaks away from his kiss. “I don’t mind,” she agrees, “... I think I’d like it to be just between us for a while…”

And because he’s so grateful that he’s in love with his best damn friend, who knows him and understands him like nobody else, he kisses her again… just because he can.

…

They know. He doesn’t know how they know, but they fucking know, and he mutters unhappily under his breath, “... fucking vultures, the whole lot of them.”

Armin smirks, not unsympathetically. They’d mutually decided to tell him (rather, he spotted them holding hands, and he’d almost cried in happiness), even though Eren had been somewhat sour about it, sulking when Mikasa had pointed out that they obviously needed to tell Armin. Eren was a brat, and a jealous one, especially where Mikasa was concerned, so despite having ample proof by now that the kiss between Armin and her had meant nothing, it remained a sore topic for him.

“Isn’t it easier this way? At least now you won’t have to stare down all the boys queuing up to ask for her number in the cafeteria.”

“... That’s not the point,” Eren sulks, even though he knows Armin has a point (he always does), the phenomenon he’d described was a canonical and frequent event that he actively loathes, because Mikasa was quite free with her personal details that way.

( It’s high school, Eren , she’d told him exasperatedly one day when he’d actually brought it up to her, if I don’t give them my number they’ll get it from someone else anyway. Besides, the block functionality is quite useful .)

Somehow Eren is fairly certain that knowing she was in a relationship wouldn’t be enough to deter potential suitors (/ fanboys) and as they walk towards their class, he spots the best example of this crass behaviour in none other than his horse faced friend chatting up his girlfriend, who seemed to be fairly liberal with her smiles.

Armin watches the scene from right next to him and snorts, barely able to contain his laughter. “... You’re so transparent, Eren.”

“Clearly the news hasn’t reached everyone,” he clears his throat, tearing his gaze away from the beauty and the beast, trying his best to remain civil and not scare his girlfriend away in less than 24 hours of them being, you know, together .

“This is what you wanted,” Armin reminds him, clapping his shoulder sportingly, barely able to contain his grin.

…

She tugs nervously at her hair, feeling ridiculously exposed despite the fluffy maroon scarf around her neck. She hadn’t been prepared for the events of yesterday, be it the emotional confession, or the heated kisses, or the possessive nips at her neck.

She certainly wasn’t prepared for the self consciousness that came with the marks he left on her, and had absolutely no knowledge of the make up skills required to cover it. (It hadn’t helped that it had taken Armin less than two minutes to spot the hickeys.)

But what she was least prepared for, is how almost everyone seemed to know, without her even having to open her mouth, and how they all seemed to have an opinion.

… Aw, but I was really counting on him getting back together with Krista… they were so cute…

… I wonder how long he’ll stay with this one…

… wait, Mikasa Ackerman? Aren’t they like practically siblings or something? Ewwww~

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to gag, or if she wanted to hide… or both.

She doesn’t hide. Because Mikasa Ackerman is a class act and despite feeling completely torn up listening to bitchy people talk about her like she does not possess hearing, she goes through the day looking outwardly untouchable.

But after trudging through the entire day of listening to absolute bullshit rumours and whispering, she’s pretty sure she feels a migraine incoming. Groaning to herself, as she takes out her notebook from her locker, she finds herself face to face with a chirpy voice that she once hated.

“... Hey,” Krista says, with a small smile. “... rough day, huh.”

Mikasa nods, it’s not that she dislikes the cute blonde in front of her (not too much, anyway), it’s just that today was not the day she wants to be visually reminded of her existence. Because watching her, in her white miniskirt and pink sweater, perfect blonde hair and her perfect smile, is reminiscent of all the days she hid in her room with only her insecurity for company.

“So um,” Krista begins, because Mikasa can be comfortable in her silence, just looking at Krista questioningly. “... Everyone’s talking about it, basically,” she blurts out, unable to help herself.

“And if you want to know whom to smack, it’s Hitch, because she says she saw you guys holding hands outside school and making out, and she snapchatted it to the whole world, because that’s what she does and,” - Mikasa’s eyes narrow and Krista takes a deep breath.

“Look, I just wanted to reach out, and you know,” she clears her throat, like it was obvious what she was doing here. Mikasa just looks blank, feels blank. “... Like, I don’t want it to be awkward or anything, between us,” Mikasa is genuinely confused at this point, because there didn’t have to be an us, between her and Krista, their social circles were comfortably distant enough to have as minimal interaction as possible. “... You seem like a great person, and honestly, I’m not even surprised you guys ended up together. It was just a matter of time, I guess.”

She smiles earnestly as she says this, and Mikasa finds herself liking the short blonde despite herself, and offers a smile back. “... Thanks, that’s sweet of you.”

“And um,” Krista offers, completely casually, “... I could lend you some concealer if you wanna… you know, cover that up.”

…

“Snapchat!” Sasha wails theatrically, “... I can’t believe this is what our friendship has boiled down to.”

Mikasa has the grace to look guilty. “Explain to me, bestie ,” Sasha can be quite scary when she has her manic face on, “why, I had to receive a snap from the school’s number one hoe, informing me of the fact that my best friend had finally hooked up with her absolute thirst trap of a roommate.”

She doesn’t have much to say to defend herself, she simply slinks lower into her seat. “... I’ll buy you lunch for a week,” Mikasa whispers, defeated.

“Oh you better,” Sasha declares, still fuming. “... Snapchat, are you fucking kidding me…” She turns around once more, sizing Mikasa up deliberately. “... What about that time I walked in on you guys, in the kitchen, and he didn’t have a shirt on?” Sasha narrows her eyes accusingly. “... Were you two already…? Did you lie to me back then?”

“No! God, no,” Mikasa vaguely wonders why she sounds so defensive and apologetic about her own love life, but she remembers that Sasha is upset and for what it’s worth, she loves her like a sister, so she says, “... I swear, there was nothing between us then. It only happened, like… last night.”

Mikasa blushes as she says it, and the twinkle returns to Sasha’s brown eyes. “You must tell me everything,” she commands, and despite her sighing and blushing and giggling, Mikasa does exactly that.

...

He waits for her as they walk back from school. This is new too. Well not entirely, they’d walk back together, the three of them, Him, Mikasa and Armin, everyday in middle school, but high school had brought them different routines, and a distance that he was happy to get rid of.

“So…” he says as he slips his fingers between hers. “So much for our plan to keep it quiet.”

She burrows her head into his arm, “... everyone knew. Literally everyone.” After a minute, she adds reproachfully, “The hickeys you left on my neck didn’t help, either.”

He grins despite the glare she gives him. Embarrassing or not, he didn’t regret it one bit, not the moments that led up to those anyway... the way she’d found herself on his lap, fitting so perfectly in his arms, and against his mouth. The way she’d gasped when he’d let himself explore the sensitive skin on her neck.

He understands her situation, but god, there was no way he’d apologize for the sheer sensation he’d felt in that moment.

Tugging at her scarf to see his own handiwork, he can’t help his disappointment when he sees only a faint outline of them on her pretty skin. “... I see you’ve covered them up.”

“Ah,” Mikasa grins, “... that was your ex, actually.”

She feels him still, letting go of her hand for a brief moment. “... What?” Eren blinks nervously. They don’t really talk about his ex, not much more than they did yesterday anyway, and he wishes they’d never have to, not now that he knows perfectly well how much it had hurt Mikasa.

“You… um, spoke to her today?”

Mikasa nods, “... She came by to say hello, yeah.” And because Eren looks extremely uncomfortable at the thought, she giggles and tells him, “She says she didn’t want things to be awkward between us.”

Eren groans, “... this sounds like the teaser to every high school drama ever.” But despite his sarcasm, he was worried because despite Mikasa’s unassuming popularity in school, she lived her life outside of the cliques, the gossip rings, the drama… and Krista, sweet that she was, was somehow always in the thick of it.

“Don’t worry,” Mikasa says sweetly, “... if you want me to tell you that we had a catfight over you, prepare for disappointment.”

He grins in relief and asks, “... Is it so wrong to indulge in the fantasy of you fighting with another girl over me?” And because he can’t help himself, he adds, “You’d win for sure, Mikasa.”

…

As long as she can remember, Mikasa had been in love with Eren. It wasn’t complicated, or confusing for her, she’d loved him and she’d always known it.

When she was younger she had less trouble expressing it, they played together all the time, and she shared her toys with him, her sweets, and promised his mom she would take care of him when he got into trouble.

During her darkest days (after losing her parents), he would look after her, keep an eye out for her, tuck her in sometimes and sleep by her side when she had nightmares. Back then it was easier to ask for his attention - Eren could you stay with me, she remembers her 12 year old self asking, sniffling in the night, with no inhibitions, just a young girl asking for comfort from the boy she shared everything with.

(He’d given her everything she asked for graciously, fussing over her in his own way, watching over her even when she didn’t notice.)

It’s the ‘how’ that increased in complexity, the way she wanted more and more as the years went by, until the point where her love for him was a complete stranger. It was frustrating when she first realized it, when she realized she looked at him more often than usual… when she realized she wanted him to look at her too.

Growing up they’d watch movies together, and she’d often wonder about the way the hero kissed the heroine at the end of the movie, and wondered if someday Eren would kiss her like that. Most of all she wondered if Eren thought about it too.

When he started dating, that became amply clear to her - he thought of kissing, and to her unfortunate attention, it became clear that he thought of much more too. Those months were incredibly difficult for Mikasa because not only did she have to go through life like nothing had changed - ostensibly nothing had, not between them - but she had to police every indiscrete thought when he walked around after his shower without a shirt on, she had to control her gaze every time it fell on his beautiful mouth, wondering exactly what it would feel like against hers.

And for the first time in the longest time, Mikasa could no longer love Eren the way she always had, openly and without shame, she could no longer ask of him his care and attention.

But it feels like overnight so much has changed, she can barely comprehend it. Eren is so generous with his attention (his love), she wonders if the last couple of years of distance was the doing of her own imagination.

He is so free with his touches, sometimes gentle on her waist, sometimes tender on her face, sometimes rough in her hair (this excites her most of all). She no longer has to wonder if he’d ever kiss her like in the movies, he kisses whenever he damn pleases, and it always, always takes her by surprise. And it is so much better than she has ever imagined.

…

He saunters in as she prepares the tofu carefully, and because Mikasa is a perfectionist in everything she does, she’s concentrating completely on flipping each piece at the perfect moment when they turn golden brown.

But because Eren finds literally everything she does impossibly cute, he wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her gleefully on the cheek. It has the desired effect, she gasps, dropping her fork, and he catches her in an open mouthed kiss.

He manages to distract her for a good couple of minutes until she smells the tofu becoming decidedly darker than golden brown. “Erennn,” she whines, “... my tofu is ruined!”

“I’m sure it’ll taste wonderful,” he says because she’s an excellent cook, but also because he’s slightly affronted that by the way she pulls away in complaint.

“Please. Go sit,” she swats him away, making him pout adorably. He does as he is told and waits till she plates the food minutes later, and he’s pleased to say that he was absolutely right, it did taste wonderful.

But he’s more eager to eat up as soon as possible and finish what he tried to start a few moments ago.

“What are you going to do after dinner?” The answer he wants to hear is I’d like to make out with my boyfriend , but just as he expected, Mikasa’s mind is on a slightly different wavelength.

“... Hmm,” she eyes him suspiciously, “... I guess I’ll finish cleaning up and read the latest chapter in English Lit before bed, and just drift off to sleep. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he states innocently. “... I’ll help you clean up.”

He changes the topic before they have a chance to linger, and does good on his promise to clean up as fast as he can. It’s ridiculous the way he’s acting, and he doesn’t understand it himself, but he can’t seem to help himself. He can’t seem to stop looking at her, can’t seem to stop craving her, whether it’s the closeness of her body or the taste of her lips, and he’s pretty certain the way he’s acting right now is downright embarrassing, but somehow since its with Mikasa, he feels emboldened.

Or at least that’s how he’d felt until recently. Of late there’s been just the slightest amount of doubt that’s crept in. He finds himself wondering if it’s just him who feels this way, this inexplicable urge, and he wishes that she’d be the one reaching for him more often.

“Thanks, Eren,” she murmurs, breaking him out of his intense internal monologue, when she reaches over and brushes a chaste kiss on his cheek. It warms him instantly, immediately making him want more.

He dries up and follows her out of the kitchen, and as she turns into her room, he grabs her wrist and says, “... Mikasa, wait,” and when she flips her head to look at him, he nestles her against the wall and whispers, “... I just wanted to say goodnight,” before kissing her full on the mouth.

For all that he internally complains about her not initiating their kisses enough, she responds beautifully to him, opening her mouth to him, and slipping her tongue inside, gasping when his fingers slip under her shirt, brushing softly above her ribcage. She slides one hand around his neck and the other clutches his shirt, pulling him so close to her, he revels in the feeling of her body pressed against hers.

He doesn’t even know how, or why, because he isn’t thinking when he’s kissing Mikasa, just going with it, running on the sheer feeling of it all, because he just gives into her - but she’s got both arms around his neck and he’s pressing her so firmly against the wall, tongue shameless in its exploration of her mouth, he slips one of his legs between hers.

She likes it, likes the pressure between her legs and she finds herself moving against him, grinding almost, embarrassingly, and she doesn’t even register consciously, until she feels him hard and pressed up against her thigh. She makes an embarrassing noise, something between a gasp and a moan, and suddenly his eyes snap open, all too conscious of their position.

She feels him twitch against her, and she can barely breathe with the excitement of it all, the newness… the feeling. He looks at her like a different person, green eyes heady and searching, holding her in a heated gaze. But in the most crushingly confusing move, he steps back and whispers “good night,” before turning towards his own room.

Quite frankly, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Any more of that and she would’ve melted into jelly all over the leg that was between her thighs. And instead of pursuing that intense, boneless feeling, she finds herself catching her breath alone in the hallway with a confoundingly novel ache between her legs.

…

He watches her at the tennis court the next day; he drags Armin with him.

He’s never cared much for the game itself, only knows the basic rules because Mikasa’s been playing for years. She has a practice match today, against Jean, and he’d claimed he’d only wanted to see ‘his girl’ crush that horse face to the ground.

But the more he sits next to Eren, the more Armin feels decidedly uncomfortable. “Oi, Eren,” he says, when he’s fairly certain he’s had enough. Eren looks at him annoyed for being distracted from the game. “... What?”

Armin pinches the bridge of his nose before speaking, because how does he say this politely? “... You’re staring.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t huh me! You’re literally ogling her,” he hisses under his breath, “... it’s embarrassing, so please stop.”

He feels his face burn as he splutters, “I, I’m just watching the-,” he’s quite literally red by this point, “... Armin, what the fuck?” He just wants to hide, and so he hides his face in his hands.

He was right, he was staring, and he knew this because his mind had memorized the way she looked in that outfit, white tank top low cut and body hugging and giving him an excellent view as she moved. And he didn’t even want to comment on the way those shorts hugged her curves and how it flowed perfectly into her long, glorious legs.

If he could kick himself he would.

“What’s going on with you?” Armin asks, after he gives Eren a moment to recover from absolute mortification. Hesitating, he says, “... This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you staring at her like this recently.”

He looks at Armin helplessly, because he doesn’t know how to put it into words. “You can talk to me,” Armin coaxes him, “... you do embarrassing shit in front of me all the time anyway,” he supplies helpfully.

There’s conflict in his green eyes as he considers just how to say it, if he wants to at all. He’s still not a hundred per cent over the fact that Armin was Mikasa’s first kiss and if anyone could hold a (pointless) grudge it was Eren.

“However if you still choose to not talk to me about Mikasa because you are hung up over a stupid drunk kiss, then that’s completely fine with me too,” Armin says, reading Eren’s mind cheerfully.

“... You didn’t have to bring it up,” he says sullenly. Armin rolls his eyes. “... You’re thinking about it anyway, so I might as well talk about it.” He’s known him far too long to not understand the very simplistic nature of Eren’s thought processes.

“... I can’t stop looking at her,” he confesses, deciding to gloss over the discomfort of their kiss and focus on the main problem instead. “I hadn’t noticed,” Armin quips dryly, and Eren glares at him - so much for ‘ You can talk to me, Eren.’

“I’m losing my mind here, Armin,” trust Eren to always be dramatic, without fail, “... You can make fun of me all you want, but everytime I look at her, I,” he inhales sharply. “... God, I feel disgusting. It’s Mikasa for fuck’s sake.”

And It’s Mikasa whom his friend had always been slightly unhinged for, but Armin thinks better of saying this.

“... I feel like I just don't know how to look at her respectfully anymore,” and he says

this almost choked, so distressed, that Armin tries very very hard to suppress a laugh.

…

She wishes she hadn’t done it.

In a rare moment of weakness that she now regrets, she had given into Sasha’s ever curious inquisitions into her love life. And by love life here, Sasha was explicitly digging for the good stuff.

“Eh?!?”

Mikasa waits patiently for Sasha to return from her high pitched look of disbelief.

“... What do you mean you haven’t slept together yet?” Sasha asks, a bit calmer this time, but still urgently distressed about the matter.

“We just… haven’t,” Mikasa explains rather unsatisfyingly.

“So… do you like, want to wait or something? I thought you’ve been in love with him since forever…”

No matter how much she’s accepted that fact herself, it still makes her blush when she hears it out loud. “... It’s not like, I want to, um, wait or anything,” she confesses. Because she’s found herself thinking of the same thing every night since the time Eren had her against the wall, pinned against him and his hardness. It’s almost like it created a monster out of her, a monstrous desire that has her eyeing him out the corner of her eye whenever she gets the chance. It makes her seek him out more often, seek him out after his workout, after his shower, innocently, by accident of course, and she’s ashamed of herself.

“... You just need to jump him,” Sasha says, with the utmost seriousness. Like she knew anything at all on this subject. “And boy have I got the perfect thing to help you.”

…

Mikasa Ackerman is a huge fan of Marie Kondo. It was one of the curiously annoying yet cute things about her that Eren has an impressively large list of.

She’s watched the Netflix show more times than he can count, follows her on Youtube, and once he’d seen her pray to her room or some shit before she started cleaning. It mystifies him, and he doesn’t care enough to understand more so he just goes along with it.

Today she’s decided she has way too many clothes and she will only keep what “sparks joy” in her, so she’s strewn out her entire closet and demanded in the sweetest way that he helps her with her mission.

(She throws in the offer of trying out all her outfits before she throws them out, and Eren is horny for a fashion show or the moments in between so he readily agrees)

“... I’m not sure about this one,” she says, eyeing herself in the green dress critically.

Eren’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “... You’re kidding, you look like a fucking goddess, Mikasa.”

She blushes happily with the compliment, but Eren isn’t exaggerating. It’s a slinky strapless number which was incredibly short. And it had a slit. According to Eren, the slit could not be emphasized enough.

“... Your legs look incredible,” he says, providing her the only decent compliment he can muster. The rest he does his best to convey with eyes.

“... It just doesn’t feel like something I wear usually, you know… so I don’t know if it sparks joy...”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, “Well, you should wear it. C’mere let me help you spark some joy,” he says, playfully pulling her down into the pile of clothes that made a poofy bed on the floor.

She giggles, settling over him happily, and for a moment his sappy little heart feels like it’s going to explode. He’s pretty sure her giggle is his most favourite sound in the whole world.

“... You’re insane,” he breathes, relishing in the way she feels on top of him, his hands sliding up her legs and resting just beneath the hem of her dress (just beneath her ass). She kisses him sweetly, tongue flicking gently on his lip and making him groan softly. His hands brush past her ass, caressing ever so softly as they come to rest on the small of her back.

She deepens the kiss, and he grabs her hips roughly, angling her mouth onto his in a way that suits him, gives him access and he sighs into her mouth. The view of her on top of him, is unparalleled, her thighs around his hips and her chest heaving temptingly with her harsh breathing. He closes his eyes and captures her mouth again before he makes a fool of himself in front of her again.

But she has her hands in his hair, and she’s pressing down, grinding down against his crotch, and he can feel himself pulse at every brush of contact, and he groans knowing fully well that there’s no way she can’t feel his length brush against her legs.

He doesn’t want to stop, or run away, because he’s ridiculously turned on at this point, and unwilling to let go of her, so he simply turns her around and pins her beneath him, taking advantage of the way she squeals, to slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her.

It’s so tempting having her beneath him like this, so he gives in and slips his leg between hers again, eager to have her rub against him like she did that day, with the faintest hint of a moan, like he hasn’t been able to forget.

His fingers entwine with hers and he stretches them above her head, wanting so much to just kiss her senseless, but they collide with a cardboard box and he spares a glance at it, in annoyance.

Until he squints and actually sees what it is. The label alone makes him blush, not to mention the contents that he could clearly see under the transparent plastic covering.

Mikasa looks up, dazed and a little bit disoriented from what was possibly the most intense make out session she had ever experienced. “... Eren?”

“Babe,” he rasps, choked, “... are you trying to tell me something?”

She follows his line of sight, and wants to hide, wants to die, wants to erase this moment from her very existence.

Her Sensual Pleasure kit, he reads, his mind effectively going numb as he comprehends the contents: a vibrator, a blindfold, some pink fuzzy handcuffs and what looks like a generous bottle of lube.

Somehow even though she forgot about this ridiculous thing, having stuffed it into her closet to forget all about the ridiculousness on her friend’s face when she gave it to her, it seems to have stumbled out into the light of day at the worst possible moment.

If she could murder Sasha and get away with it, she would.

“... I-It’s not what you think, Eren,” she mumbles, cheeks red and panicking, even though she has absolutely no idea what she wants him to think.

“I assure you,” he manages, “... I’m not really thinking right now, Mikasa.” Sure enough his mind had somewhat short circuited, barely able to handle the pressure of having his extremely sexy girlfriend beneath him and somehow simultaneously having discovered what appeared to be her sextoys .

Gingerly, he reaches for it, and he almost gasps, because the box had been opened and fiddled with. “Did you actually…”

He looks at her face, and it’s the colour of a tomato by this point, teeth biting her lower lip nervously, and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or if he is even more turned on.

“The vibrator, Mikasa, did you…?” His voice is so hoarse just imagining, it superseded any fantasies he’s had up until this point. “... Eren,” she whines, embarrassed, hiding her face in her hands.

“Please for the love of god, Mikasa, please just tell me, baby,” he’s pleading because he really needs to know at this point. He needs to know if he’s been going to bed in the room besides her without the potent knowledge that she’s been using this to relieve herself at night.

When she nods, just ever so imperceptibly, he’s pretty sure he’s going to combust. “... What did you think of when you were using it?” His voice sounds like a stranger’s.

She looks conflicted, looks unbelievably embarrassed, but he’s pretty sure he isn’t imagining it when he hears the faintest whisper from her saying, “... you.”

But that isn’t going to cut it, because he’s spent countless nights with a raging boner and raging guilt, as he jerked off to the most tantalizing moments he’s had with her… and he barely ever manages to look her in the eye the next morning. So he has to, no, he needs to know that he hasn’t been the only one in this absolutely ridiculous situation.

He kisses her hard, teeth grazing hers, mouth eager and greedy, and she responds to him with equal fervour. His head drops to her shoulder as he kisses her bare collarbone. “... If you knew how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you, you wouldn’t be able to look at me the same again.”

His words are a deep, throaty confession that he whispers on her skin, and it brings a tingle down to her spine and all the way to her toes. She thrusts her chest upwards against him subconsciously.

“... I think of you too, you know… all the time,” she confesses, forgetting the very meaning of inhibition. It’s hard to remember it when he looks at her that way, heat burning from his verdant eyes, his grip firm against her hips. She doesn’t want to; doesn’t need it, if it means she can be this close to him.

“... Do you think you can show me?” he whispers, barely thinking through his requests through his lust-filled haze.

He sees her hesitating, contemplating, and he finds himself praying as his fingers inch up the dress and dig into the curves of her ass, lips delicate against the tops of her breasts.

“Only if you show me how you touch yourself,” she murmurs, and he can feel himself twitch in excitement.

She backs up against her bedpost and slips out of her panties, and Eren is absolutely, positively certain, he has never seen anything more appealing than when she slowly, deliberately, hikes up that beautiful green dress and spreads her legs.

He’s so lost in the sight before him, he forgets what he’s promised until she says, steel eyes determined, challenging him almost, “... your turn, Eren.”

He shucks his pants off gracelessly, he couldn’t make it look as artful as she does even if he tried, but he’s happy to be free of the restrictive material as he springs heavy and erect at the sight of her. “... Could you um, pass me the lube,” he asks, and she does, but not before squeezing some onto her own hand.

It’s hypnotic how she rubs it into herself, wet, and pretty and pink, and he jerks into his hand, slick and wanting, as he whispers, “... God, you’re beautiful.”

His words only serve to enhance the needy pressure between her legs, the tingling feeling that her slow circular motions were only making worse. She picks up the vibrator and turns it on, pressing it to her nub, the way she’s done a few lonely nights by herself, wishing it was him against her skin.

It’s different this time, because even though it’s her and the silicone toy, Eren’s gaze is like liquid fire on her skin, dark and licentious, and almost greedy. She throws her head back, shivering with pleasure and gasping.

“... What did you think of when you played with yourself?” He asks again, and this time she knows he wants a more specific answer.

“Your fingers,” she mumbles, and she finds the pleasure makes her startlingly more honest. He could ask anything of her, and she would tell him.

The idea, the thought of it, makes him twitch happily in his hand, and he jerks erratically, feeling an unbelievable urge come over him. “... Did you get wet thinking of my fingers on you, Mikasa?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, blushing prettily, high off the vibrating sensations. Without planning to, he crawls over between her legs and kisses her deeply, murmuring on her lips, “... then let me touch you, baby.”

It was her who was being stimulated, but he nearly groans into her hair at the feeling of her soft wetness, the way it feels against his fingers, the way her arousal coats him so eagerly.

“... I’ve wanted to touch you for so long,” he murmurs hoarsely, rubbing delicate circles across her nub, diligently favouring the area she had favoured mere moments ago. “Then why didn’t you,” she gasps at the last syllable, at the sudden intrusion of his long finger having slid deep inside her.

“... Sorry,” he says, sounding far too turned on to be sorry, “... you’re so wet, Mikasa.” He’s in awe, almost reverent of how warm she is, how easy.

She hangs on to his neck now, teeth grazing his neck, whispering, “... I want you, Eren.” Her breath is warm and damp and he’s unmistakably certain of what she asks.

“... Are you sure?” He asks, panting, hoping to god she’s sure, because he’s so ready, he’s been ready for a long time now, and he can barely control himself from leaking onto his own hand, when she says, “Yes.”

He makes sure she’s comfortable, or as comfortable as she can be on top of her clothes, and he commits everything to memory, the way she looks beneath him, the way her breasts heave when he pulls off the entirety of that dress, the way her nipples stiffen against his warm kisses. “... Please,” she whimpers, when he takes his time with her, taking the peaks of her breasts into her mouth and teasing ever so slightly with his teeth.

“... I can’t help it,” he rasps, “I want to touch you everywhere, you’re so pretty, babe, I,” -

He chokes, cut off, by the feeling of her delicate hands circling around him, pumping slowly as she guides him to her entrance. “Shit, Mikasa,” he curses, closing his eyes as he feels the sensation of her warmth against his tip.

It’s not his first time, but he feels like a stumbling virgin, murmuring desperate things as he feels her sheathe him completely, pausing only to pay attention to her comfort. Barely coherent, he asks, “... you okay?” She nods quietly, and his eyebrows furrow, looking at her questioningly. “Feels… so full,” she manages, with a feeble groan, and he can’t help but grin at how irresistible she is.

“... That’s because I’m supposed to fill you up, babe,” he whispers, not caring how far gone he is, because he slides out just a little only to spread her legs for him again, and slide back in. He tests the rhythm carefully, watching her expressions for any sign of discomfort, but the way she squeezes her eyes, the way she throws her head back with a gasp, just makes him lose whatever little control he had.

“Please tell me if I need to go slower,” he tells her, but judging from her reaction, from her moans, she only seemed to be egging him on.

It’s too much, he thinks, too much for him to possibly handle, not with the way she bucks her hips, and definitely not with the way she clenches needily around him.

And in a moment that he’ll probably never live down, he groans, “Fuck, babe, I’m going to,” - barely realizing with some consciousness to pull out of her tight, wet, core, and spills onto her stomach.

Mikasa’s never seen him make a face like that.

When he opens his eyes, she’s looking at him in wonder. And he’s looking at the mess he’s made on her stomach, and even though a small part of him only feels arousal at the sight of that, today he just feels like a massive asshole. “Shit,” he curses, not happy with how this played out at all. He reaches for the panties she’d so easily discarded and mops up his sticky release, mumbling, “... God, I’m so sorry, Mikasa. This was your first time, I can’t even believe,” -

“Eren,” she interrupts, because she doesn’t have time for this, his self-derision can come later. “... I, um…,” she clenches her thighs together, and he suddenly realizes that he hadn’t yet completely fucked shit up, he could still make her feel good, and that’s all he wanted.

He settles himself between her legs and spreads her folds open for him, feeling a familiar twitch at the pretty sigh in front of him. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers earnestly, before she feels his mouth on her folds. He kisses her like how he kisses her lips, like he wants to consume her, and if she thought it felt good against her own mouth, it felt only a million times better down there. He’s generous with his tongue, probing circling, sending her into a frenzy that only he could have managed.

She threads her fingers into his hair, gasping his name, prettily, holding on to him as she rides wave after wave of pleasure against his tongue.

When he lifts himself up and looks at her, he grins, his mouth shining because of her juices, and she closes her eyes swearing to herself that she will never forget that sight.

He collapses next to her, this time of a happier countenance because somewhere in his mind he’s judged this to be a fair exchange, and because Mikasa knows him so well, she can’t help but giggle.

“I’m not usually like this,” he asserts, once he’s caught his breath, and she’s barely managed to catch hers. She raises an eyebrow at him, amused. Trust Eren to be bothered about the unnecessary mechanics of his ego, barely minutes after their first time. “... I swear, next time I’m not going to let you go unless you have at least three orgasms. Minimum.”

“I guess I’ll have to hold you to it, Eren,” she murmurs, chuckling. “And before you freak out about the other thing; I’m on birth control, so don’t worry.” There’s silence, remarkably guilty silence, because he hadn’t thought about it, and that’s ridiculous because he’d never done it without a condom before, and if he ever feels like the biggest idiot on the planet, it’s at this moment.

“... I fucking love you, Mikasa,” he says sincerely, thanking the gods and this insane goddess right beside him, and this time she can’t help but laugh out loud.

a/n: edit: two whole weeks after posting ao3, i finally got around to putting this on tumblr.

to all those who have been on this journey with me, thank you so much. it's been so fun with these guys in the hsy verse.

i can't believe the story is over; i'm not ready to let go. going forward i may or may not right 3 more chapters each focusing on armin, historia, and jean respectively. i'm still mulling over it :)

i've recently been made aware that some people who read my stories are minors and i should be more mindful. so the note below -

i'd just like to clarify that it's fairly normal to be 18 yo in senior year of high school (at least where i'm from), which is when this last chapter takes place, so i did not feel the need to write age anywhere. i just want to clarify this; im no one to lecture any body on the appropriate age to be sexually active - as long as the person who you're with treats you respectfully and honours your consent. and respect your own limits and body.

HOWEVER I WILL ABSOLUTELY TAKE THIS MOMENT TO LECTURE YOU ON THE USE OF BIRTH CONTROL - PLEASE USE CONDOMS. please discuss birth control or std prevention with a sexual partner. DO NOT BE LIKE EREN AND FORGET JEEZUS. i'm 27 when i'm writing this so the last scene was just meant to be funny, especially his unbelievable sigh of relief when he finds out she had the foresight to be careful.

anyway, see ya and if it might interest you pls check out my mikasa stripper au ;) i'm very excited about it.

#eremika #liquorisce fanfiction #eremika smut #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #high school years

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angelthebedsheet · 4 years ago

Text

a/n: @tom-hlover i hope this was to your liking! it was a lil hard but i do love tom holland’s spidey so here it is! i just assumed that it was a romantic relationship too !!

lets get it!

——————————————————————————-

okay so first things first?

yall are ATTACHED at the hip

ned and mj clown peter for this all the fucking TIME

like he always walks you to class and sits next to you in class

peter we get it you want this melanin dial it back

and you are a superhero FIEND

anyone who knows you knows you go feral for superheroes and spiderman specifically

mj knows this, ned knows this, peter definitely knows this

mj always just gotta give peter a look like

whenever you start gushing about whatever spidey did that night

“peter did you see him last night?! he looked so amazing!”

“ah yeah n/n i saw!”

internal SCREAMING

like his beautiful amazing talented spectacular crush and best friend is fawning over him ???

mind boggling brothers

i mean your lockscreen is one of those press hold ones that move? so at first it’s a group picture of you, peter, mj and ned then you hold and boom its spidey swinging

peter found this out by accident and simply lost his mind in his room

you would do ANYTHING to see spidey in action and anYTHING TO HELP

bbg just wanna be a hero too 🤪

this day peter couldn’t come over to your house this time bc of his internship and had to leave early

aka code word for spidey shit to do lmao

and you’re a lil bummed

“but petey it’s wednesday and we were supposed watch mean girls and legally blonde.”

“i-i know i’m sorry n/n i’ll make it up to you”

mj and ned heard that and LOST IT

you frowned watching peter book it outta there like the lights were out

i mean my mans usain bolted it

mj and ned couldnt go home with you either so that sucked

you didnt usually walk home by yourself and honestly you really didn’t want to

it mf queens man. it’s not the safest place in the world

you started walking home and decided to buy some snacks n shit bc you saw them glazed donuts lookin real SCRUMPTIOUS AND FRESH in that packet

now you got the snacks secured in your bag and ready to go

you’re walking down the sidewalk when you hear some grunts and scrapping sounds?

you look down the alleyway and literally see your idol spiderman cornered

nuh uh not on your watch

you dropped your bookbag and tied ya braids/locks/afro back and took a running start

just as spidey was about to get punched you KICKED that mf straight in the cheek

spidey is like ????

“get got bitch!”

y/n???? awSHIT

its YOU

on one hand that was badass and two WHY ARE YOU HERE AND NOT HOME???

you grabbed a random pipe laying around and went ham on that bitch

peter is like confused and panicking as he stands up

you are handling your shit you aint need no mf powers

you got the black nasties on that was powerful enough

you are deadass yelling BITCH each time you hit them

peter snaps outta it and pulls you back

bc damn they knocked out alr you were bashing that hoe IN

you drop the pipe and turn to spidey with that big ol smile

peter felt his knees buckle

“you okay spidey? you looked like you needed some help?”

holy shit?

“u-uh t-thank you y–miss”

he had to speak from the belly with that

(i can hear my chorus teacher going SING FROM YOUR DIAPHRAGM)

while yall chatting it up another villain swooped in and threw some shit at yall?

idk how to describe it but it damn near almost impaled you but thankfully peter’s spidey sense kicked in and he pulled you out of the way

even though now you’re in fucking DANGER you’re losing your mind bc you are pressed up against peter’s chest

like damn spidey you really built like that?

peter on the other hand is like shit

cant let the loml aka crush slash bestfriend get hurt but i gotta fight these mfs....

he’s like fuck it man we gon dip just this once and picks you up

“hold onto me real quick?”

“o-oh okay????”

you’re living the fuckin DREAM and wrap your arms around his neck

peter’s trying to stay professional but ... girl you smell good asf and you basically intoxicating babyboy

then he just tHWIPS it outta there and hooks his foot onto your bookbag

shit was sexc even tho that didnt make much sense

yall SWINGING thru the streets with a lil funk and soul

you’re fully living the dream now baby!

he kinda just kicks his foot up and you catch your bookbag before wrapping your arms around his neck again

he swings yall onto a building roof top and you’re in awe

you’ve never seen queens like this before

he lets you go

“woah....”

“beautiful right? one of the benefits of being able to swing around”

“i know thats right...”

he’s just admiring you now

lil did we know tony stark PEEPED that shit thaNKS KAREN

you noticed spidey just staring at you and you lwk feel your cheeks heat up (bc black people don’t blush ❤️)

spidey you deadass left two CRIMINALS out in the open like hurry up

“h-hey can we take a picture together? i wanna show my petey that i met you!”

MY PETEY?????

“o-oh uh sure? also who’s.... who’s petey?”

“oh he’s my best friend! technically his name is peter but i love giving him nicknames.”

bitch oh???

you turned on your phone and show him your lockscreen pointing at peter

“isnt he just adorable?”

palms are sweaty knees weak arms are heavy

“ah. do you. do you like him?”

you kinda just unlock your phone while looking away

“y-yeah i mean who wouldn’t? he’s perfect... 👉🏽👈🏽”

PETER INTERNALLY WENT

bro HE’S ASCENDING

YOU LIKE HIM????

PETER PARKER???

HIMS???

THIS WHITE BOY FROM QUEENS?????

“you like peter?”

“yes.”

“peter parker?”

“yes?”

“oh thank god”

“i beg your pardon?”

PETER....

“oh i um i said that b-because i know him and im pretty sure he likes you back”

“oh???”

“y-yeah. he talks alot about you”

my mans are you really... snitching on yourself?

he really being his own wingman...

“really?”

“yup. i get it too. you’re. you’re beautiful.”

you went

😳

🕶🤏🏾

are my eyes deceiving me or is spiderman calling me BEAUTIFUL???

now yall both flustered

you’re thankful for your beautiful melaninated skin

peter’s thankful for that mf mask

“t-the picture”

“o-oh right”

cue tony PLOTTING like a mf

yall take two cute lil selfies together before spidey realizes he on the fuckin JOB

“ah i have to go let me take you home. where do you live?”

and you tell him your address even tho he already had it memorized by heart

he swang you to your doorstep and waved you goodnight before going back to handle those criminals

after that peter’s finally on his way home when tony pipes up

“was that the girl you always talk about”

“m-mr. stark??? you saw that??”

“all of it. she’s badass i want her on our team.”

“?!”

that night you got an email from tony stark and you RANG UP PETER SO QUICKLY TO LOSE YOUR SHIT ABT NOT ONLY TONY BUT SPIDEY TOO

“PETER OMFG BRO LOOOKKKKK I GOT AN EMAIL FROM TONY AND I ALSO MET SPIDERMAN TODAY. HAVE THE GODS FINALLY CHOSEN ME AS THEIR FAVORITE FOR TODAY????? JAJDJSJDNSKDNXN”

“t-that’s amazing n/n!”

the next day at school you absolutely GLOMPED him and mj

you are BUZZING with energy

mj’s kinda like?? did peter dick you down or some shit why you this hyped in the morning???

peter alr knows and is internally screaming into the void bc you like him back????

you’re already showing mj the pictures like “BRO LOOK HE EVEN HELD MY WAIST YESTERDAY!!”

ned is like 😏

mj is like 😌

they giving peter the LOOK

bc bro.... cmon now peter.

mj and ned dip leaving you to gush to peter alone

“do you think i can really be a hero petey?”

“d-definitely n/n i mean you did save spiderman yesterday”

“you’re right!”

peter has lost his shit too many times

“also petey. i like you alot.”

cheek kiss and dip

petey boy is stunned standing there in the halls like 😳

then he revives himself like ik this pretty bitch didnt just kiss and dip me like that

now he chasing you

alls good

mj and ned got blackmail too

#spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x black!reader #spiderman x black!reader #tom holland #tom holland’s spiderman #ned leeds #mj watson #x black reader #x female reader #spiderman headcanon

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

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JIKOOK DYNAMICS: JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

PREFACE

In my previous post, I shared my thoughts on what I think is Jikook's love language, specifically Jungkook's; and how in my estimation Jimin is the only member within BTS that speaks it, comes close to speaking it and most importantly makes the effort to speak it.

In this post, I attempt to outline what I think is Jimin's love language and show the various ways I feel JK speaks it or comes close to speaking it more so than the others in BTS.

Now I have to state for the record that I do not know or purport to know Jimin or Jungkook or any of these members herein mentioned in any way special and personal other than through the content we all consume on them.

Nor do I intend to be malicious or disrespectful towards them with this post, to intend to strip away their individuality for the sake of shipping symmetry.

Thus, I reiterate, everything I express in here is my thoughts, my observations and my opinion and I pray you treat it as such.

Let the records show, also that, I will bug spray any fake woke wannabe edgy shipper with a Tuktukker complex that takes my words out of context, misconstrue it to suit their own agenda and then turn around to call me out for it. In the name of Jesus, I will avada kedabra your ass. Seriously.

JIMIN

I've always been fascinated by Jimin. By the person he is. And although I do not have a comprehensive understanding of this man's inner workings, he's got to be the most complex and frankly interesting character I've come across in all my shipping years.

His duality is confusing and coupled with his Libra energy, his character and personality can be and is quite often misconstrued and misinterpreted within the shipping community.

He is friendly, cute, funny, beautiful and ship compatible with anyone.

Very often, I find, most people cannot tell his personality from his idol self slash persona or even his love language from his affectionate nature; thus resulting in these bizzare fallacies and ridiculous assumptions about him such as: he is a flirt, hoe, clingy, homewrecker, attention seeker and a plethora of slurs and sobriquet that's defamatory and slanderous at best- its ridiculous.

I get that not everyone likes him and as such wouldn't hesitate to filter his words and actions through arbitrary metrics to arrive at conclusions that profits them and does nothing but help them make sense of their hate- Y'all don't love yourselves enough.

Not to say he is my bias therefore he is perfect. That would be a blunder. He has his shortcomings, he is human after all. What I'm saying is most people don't get him and as such read him wrong?

What's more discombobulating, is the stan who swears up and down they know Jimin well enough but don't see him treating JK any different from the rest of the boys in BTS therefore Jikook isn't real- insert shook pikachu face.

Then there are those stans with genuine shipping concerns about the love dynamics between the two:

Those that feel JM gives more to JK than he receives back. That he is more supportive of JK than JK is of him. Very often, these people would bring up the issue of JK not promoting Promise when it first came out as evidence of this- it's been years let it go.

JK not being as vocal and open about his feelings and interest in JM the way Jimin is and has been about JK is also another area of concern for these stans. If you try to explain to them its because JK is/was shy they will kick- your- ass. Hell, I will kick your ass too. I'll explain later.

Some people also- I know I have at one point- have described JK's interest in and descriptions of JM as a bit shallow and vain compared to how the other members speak of Jimin.

To them, the other members usually talk about how smart and intelligent JM is, how kind and nurturing he is. How much of himself he gives to them. That the way the members talk about Jimin often helps give us a glimpse into the real Park Jimin as distinct from the persona we see on the screens.

But then there is JK: JM hyung is sexy. He has pretty eyes. 'I want you.' Then he proceeds to drool over the Jibooty, squeeze them legs shut tight while struggling to sit through a Jimin solo dance without popping boners left right left around Jimin- Bless him.

I mean, dude nearly snapped his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the Ji-abs in the middle of a performance? Damn.

To be fair, the other members don't talk like this about Jimin and sexualise Jimin as often as JK does because, they don't want to screw Jimin's brains out? Cough, cough. Hashtag save Jimin from JK. Lol

If JK is sexually attracted to Jimin, how else do you expect him to express that? Never mind that he's done some of these things subconsciously at times. You know what...

Y'all need to give this man a break!

[RANT]

He was a hormonal teen- he is still relatively pretty young. It's ridiculous to expect and demand such high level of maturity from a 16/17 year old experiencing a nonplatonic love for the first time in his life and more so in an unforgiving and invasive environment such as that in which he found himself.

Jk and Jimin found each other before they found themselves and it's unreasonable to think that that didn't have a toll on their relationship dynamics. They are human.

They are each growing and maturing at different paces. Their relationship has suffered through its growing pains; Certainly, one person is going to appear lacking in one or two areas in one way shape or form and at any given point in their love journey. That doesn't make them less real.

Again, their careers and the pursuit of it haven't exactly given them the space, time or normalcy to explore what they are and who they are in a functional way, in my opinion.

Everything is moving fast in their world, everything is highly exaggerated and highly scrutinized. Kpop is not exactly a healthy space to foster a healthy relationship and it would be a miracle if any of them should come out unscathed.

Neither one of them went searching for this love thingy nor were they even experienced enough to look at their relationship beyond the convenience of it and the excitement of it- The orgasms were enough reason for them, I think.

I get uncomfortable when some Jikookers, out of good intentions, claim Jikook knew what they were doing, should have known therefore could have known the consequences of them coupling up in a group like BTS before entering into their relationship- let me stop you right there!

While this assumption may seem like a compliment to them it also perpetuates the adultification of early days Jikook which I find disturbing.

They were teens not grown adults when they fell in love. We can't expect and demand such level of maturity from them at that age as cool as that would have made them.

They don't need to be cool to be real. They don't need to be mature to be real.

Jikook is real regardless of whether they were thoughtful or not thoughtful about the consequences of them choosing to date in a group setting, or a homophobic society at the onset of their relationship.

It's ridiculous to dismiss what they are now on the grounds that S.K is a homophobic society or that dating a coworker is not inconsequential.

People date their coworkers all the time and there are gay couples in S.K.

Jikook were too young to comprehend the consequences of dating because which teen worries about all of that before popping one off for the lord? On which planet, sir/ma'am??Were they thinking with their 'ducks?' I believe so. But again, that doesn't make them any less real.

From what I can tell anyway, 2018 was the year Jikook had anything resembling a serious thoughtful contemplation of the status of their relationship- Well, 2018 and this later half of 2020 as some of you might have already noticed. More on this later.

But yes, this adultification of early days Jikook is absurd and needs to stop. And what's equally disturbing is the infantilization of the adult day Jikook- you can't expect Jikook dynamics to remain the same throughout the years. That's bizzare.

Don't expect them to be their same jeonlous, Jimlous, possessive selves. They are growing. They are evolving as individuals and as a pair.

I side eye the fuck out of these fake woke shippers and 'grown ups' who filter Jikook interactions through adult lens and tag moments like Jimlous and Jeonlous as toxic and unhealthy without taking into context where they were at in their love journey or even their age. What y'all think this is? Fiction? Get the fuck outta here.

Jikook have had to learn and grow on the Job and around their job and learn to love eachother under the scrutiny of severe cameras and weird Ahjummas. Leave them the fuck alone or I swear I will petrify your ass for an entire comeback season. Lol

[Rant over]

All that being said, I get it. The way JK talks about Jimin isn't exactly special or unique from the way the other's speak about Jimin. But it isn't exactly superficial either...

And yes, it's quite unsettling that he doesn't describe Jimin in a way that gives meaningful insight into Jimin's personality as distinct from the others', given as he has exclusive access to Jimin more so than any of the members- we have a lot to unpack today, don't we?

Then on the other hand, there are those who think the exact opposite and see JK as the one who gives more to their relationship. That JK takes their relationship more seriously than Jimin does. They see Jimin as a bit wishy-washy when it comes to his commitment to their relationship- this breaks my heart.

Often, such people will cite Jimin's flirty nature, his lack of boundaries with others amongst other things, to prove their point...

Grab a seat, this discussion is going to be a long one. Smiley face.

JIMIN'S LOVE LANGUAGE

Jimin first got on my alt-ship radar in Rookie King when he was given an opportunity to air any and all of his grievances accumulated over the years against any member or staff of BigHit but instead chose to use that opportunity to talk about JK and how JK's actions had been hurting him.

Prior to this, he was just my bias and I would casually ship him with Suga, V, RM and basically all the members- except JK. I just couldn't ship JK with anyone.

Back then, I had a vague sense of JM's personality but felt I knew enough about him to theorize on his love language and JK was the last person I thought of as capable of meeting those emotional needs of Jimin's.

Rookie King changed my mind.

Jimin wasn't just trying to squash his differences with JK, he was trying to get closer to him. To get emotionally intimate with him- this is one of the things that sparked my interest in their dynamics.

Because it wasn't as if they weren't close. They were. They had a skinship between them. Skinship, or lack of physical boundaries as I like to call it, is one of the means through which BTS achieve intimacy amongst them.

Jikook had that between them at the time, they went everywhere together, woke each other up- they were close.

Yet Jimin felt they weren't close enough. That there was a wall between them. Now, I see a lot of people misinterpret this period in the Jikook timeline as that Jimin was crushing hard on JK. He wasn't. In my opinion.

You see, Jimin was the last person to Join the band. This was bound to have an effect on his relationship dynamics with the rest of the members as he had missed out on two years worth of emotional connection and camaraderie with them.

He had had only one year to bond and get to know the others away from the cameras and in a way that could help him develop a sense of belongingness within the group.

Within this one year, he had school, voice training, and other activities that possibly got in the way of him truly building an intimate connection with the others.

He is the only member out of the seven whose intimacy journey got captured on camera. He had to foster a connection with the others with the cameras around.

But building a connection with people even in a platonic sense is quite an intimate and private process. It takes vulnerability, honesty, a willingness to submit and subject oneself to varying degrees of humiliation, a sacrifice of the self, ego and pride in a way that just strips you naked- metaphorically speaking.

And in Jimin's case, he had to go through this stage and process openly and with the cameras around- the second hand embarrassment I get from watching early days Park Jimin!

He literally had to be the clown of the group, the hufflepuff, the clingy one, the flirty one, the one with the abs, the loud and chatty one as well as all the tasteless epithets people now weaponize against him.

I believe, all he was trying to do at this stage was breach the barriers he felt existed between him and the others as the newcomer of the group so he didn't feel like an outsider.

That is his first love language- the need to belong. He has a strong desire to feel connected with people. He cares about people and connection. He's reiterated this throughout the years and even more loudly in the recent Japan interviews.

He wanted to be part of BTS both physically and emotionally. He wanted to fit in, to belong with them, to be accepted and viewed as one of the boys- BTS.

You could see this in the way he had adopted the mannerisms of the group- the skinship, the love language of the group if you will.

It is why when Suga complained about him not liking him as much, Jimin immediately drew closer to him and wrapped his hands around him, initiating skinship between them to show he liked him.

Jimin tried to speak the groups love language so he could bond with them but he also began to infuse his own love language.

If you've seen his relationship with his father you'd understand that Jimin expresses his love through giving, nurturing etc. It is how his primary care givers showed him love and so how he also shows and conveys his love.

The members have talked about how he would encourage them to talk, to open up, how he would listen to them, be there for them and give them gifts- the birthday gift exchange culture in BTS didn't exist until Jimin arrived in BTS.

What I'm trying to say is, Jimin has a distinct way of showing love that is unique from how everyone else in the group expresses their love. That, there is also an established love parlance within BTS that everyone speaks and that is skinship.

So when Jimin does skinship with any member he is not acting 'clingy' he is just speaking the love language that the group understands. But when Jimin nurtures and acts supportive and what not, he is speaking his own unique love language.

Now I have talked extensively about how Jimin expresses his in my last post so I will be focusing mainly on how he receives loves or what gestures he interprets as love.

And since there is a general consensus that VMin have an emotional connection, I will be referencing their relationship a lot for comparisons sake.

Tae is the only member Jimin got to spend the most time with around predebut without the intrusion of the cameras. This i feel allowed Tae room to strip back and be fully vulnerable with Jimin without reservation as is required of intimacy- which was not the case for Jikook hence JK shying away from interacting with JM in front of the cameras.

Jikook wasn't accorded the luxury of privacy VMin had to build their bond. Jikook had to build their bond with the camera's trailing them. How many times have we seen JK give death stares to the camera people for invading his me time with Jimin?

Not to be psychoanalytic but I feel, this is what induced the exhibitionist tendencies we see in them- or perhaps I'm wrong and this is just them being extra. Bless them.

Within the one year JM was trying to connect with JK through skinship, JK was also only coming around to understanding what skinship meant to him. They were evolving at different paces.

JK has the most walls in BTS. He wasn't just physically closed off to skinship in the early days forcing Tae to strip him naked in the bathroom, he was emotionally closed off too.

He is still pretty much emotionally closed off- he likes to put up walls. He had his own room at the dorm, does his own laundry, barely keeps in touch with the others or pick up the damn phone when they call etc.

Jk barely partakes in the group's established way of life except for perhaps the skinship. In my opinion.

It took JK a while to understand this culture of skinship though. And the members, all of them, had to push his boundaries further back in order to connect with him.

For instance, Jin pinching his nipples to wake him up, Tae doing- well, all of it. Go watch Taekook sexual tension edits, I dare you. You'll understand.

These members had three years off camera with JK to build a connection with him and even they were met with some resistance from JK.

All Jimin had was a year with JK. I feel Jimin lowkey coveted what the others had with JK and perhaps wanted to have that with him too. Why? Because of his need to belong and connect with people. Watching JK's dynamics with the others probably made him feel left out.

I also understand how this could have been overwhelming for young JK who was having both his physical boundaries and emotional boundaries breached at the same time by this person whom he he'd known for only a year.

That's just one of the major differences between Jikook and Taekook: while Tae was busy breaching the physical walls between him and JK, Jimin was attempting emotional heist on him. Bravo Jimin, Bravo.

So do I think at this point in 2013 that Jikook were falling in love or had fallen in love? NO. But what I took from that moment was that Jimin wanted and needed to feel a sense of belongingness with JK.

Mind you I said he wanted to belong, not owned. Freedom is a component of Jimin's love language. In as much as he wants to be kept he wants to be set free- To be be given the room and freedom to explore options and take risks without judgement and without sanctions.

This need is often misconstrued as him being noncommittal.

His need for freedom, I believe, stems from his being raised in a conservative home with parents that directed and dictated every facet of his life and wouldn't even allow him to pursue his passions until later. It took a while for his father to give him the go ahead to pursue his dream- which is performing on stage.

This is why I said in my last post that Jimin has a need to be in control of the decision making in a relationship. Being able to do as he pleases is important to him. Being able to control his own narrative is important to him. And the only person in BTS that permits him to have such authority over him is JK.

Now, I know you are going to say 'but JK is a bit possessive yadda yadda yadda'.

Listen, Jimin's need for freedom is inextricably linked with his fear of judgment and repercussion. What this means is, although he wants his freedom he is often afraid of what will happen if he should go for it.

As such, very often he wouldn't do anything without permission. Especially if he feels it's going to land him in trouble.

I fist noticed this in the 2014 Jikook bangtan bomb when he said he was starting to take a liking to JK but then right after he asked if JK was ok with that. Suga have also said, Jimin doesn't go out of his way to do things that makes people hate him- See this is why he needs JK. He could use some rebellion in his life.

However, this fear of sanctions often makes him complacent to and an accomplice in toxic behavioural patterns.

For instance, until recently, he would enable JK and encourage his acts of jealousy and possessiveness and even incite them at times. He would hold on to the thorns if it means keeping the rose.

But I see him asserting himself and demanding space within their relationship at times but when he does and JK withdraws he would act clingy around JK.

It is what Manila was about, what August 2019 was about and what April/May 2020 was about. I know some of y'all don't agree with my analysis on these moments, but I'm gonna have to stand by it.

Jimin is all about the balance of scales. The balance of needs and wants. The balance of fears and desires. It's just the Libra in him. Give him too much freedom and he will feel unwanted, hold on too tight and he would feel suffocated.

'I value my relationship. Spending time with my friends is gold' remember this shade?

Jimin's fear of Judgment comes from being a perfectionist and also being raised in a conservative home with a lot of expectations of him to be the model son as the elder male.

Thus, he instinctively gravitates towards people who are less judgy or have too much expectations of him.

Also, because he believes he has to work hard to achieve the things he wwants he wants to be loved, it would mean a lot to him if he didn't have to work hard to have someone love him.

It makes sense then that he would gravitate towards JK.

Jk embodies all of Jimin's wildest desires. I call this the allure of the Golden Maknae. Jk doesn't conform. He doesn't care about people's opinions of him and lives his life on his own terms- something Jimin is striving for.

No member in BTS is as free spirited, or as rebellious as JK is. When Suga told him not to get a tattoo because the fans would hate it- he's gotten it anyway hasn't he?

The best part, JK fell all on his own. And you damn right. he fell hard.

Still on the subject of fears, another fear I feel Jimin has that speaks to his love language is the fear of being a burden.

It is why he gives and gives and keeps giving. He'd rather give than receive. Which by the way, JK is the only member I have seen Jimin demand back what he gives him. Emotionally speaking.

Because he gives a lot of himself, he burns out quickly and feels emotionally drained quite often.

He has admitted himself that he used to drink by himself in his room whenever he felt drained. I assume he drank by himself because he didn't want to be a burden to others. Aka JK.

You see, JK is an empath. He feels people's pain as if they were his own. You just have to see him tear up while watching JM cry to understand what I mean by this. Jimin is a nurturer, he knows what it feels like to listen to someone's pain.

And if Tae is the one he goes to when it becomes overbearing then what does he need JK for? Glad you asked!

What JK offers Jimin is nourishment. A safe space for him to heal and reboot. JK replenishes Jimin. It is why he constantly wants to be around him.

Jk has been a canvas in their love dynamics from day one. They've both had to negotiate their needs and wants to make their relationship work. Which is something I find unique about their dynamics and why I believe they are real.

JK's lack of experience in dating, meant he had gone into their relationship without any preconceived notions of love. He's had to learn to love Jimin the way Jimin wants to be loved.

Coming from the background he's coming from, and having been denied his ambitions for such a long time, I see why Jimin would be drawn to people that are quite ambitious.

And even though, JK wasn't this person at first, Jimin has had to hype him up to the task. He pushes JK to be more ambitious.

When it comes to JK, I feel it's more about his potential to be everything Jimin wants in a partner and JK seems more than happy to comply with this.

Because of Jimin's duality and as a natural nurturer, I feel Jimin would also be attracted to someone emotionally open to recieving his love but not too emotionally dependent on him- the balance of scales I mentioned earlier.

It is why VMin wouldn't work, in my opinion. Tae is too emotionally dependent on Jimin. He ends up taking too much than he gives. On the other hand, Suga isn't emotionally dependent enough.

Again, for a man who's battled insecurity for years, it's safe to assume security, certainty and stability are an intricate part of his love language.

He seeks validation of these needs through the most random of things. In my opinion. He wants to be the one that knows JK the best. It matters to him if their clothes match, if their hair colors match, if JK meets his eyes in the middle of a serious comeback interview, if he checks all of JK's answers- hell, dude be whispering sweet empty nothings in JK's ears most times, talking about they are destined to be together and shit. You are me, I am you. Shit.

As annoying as some of these behaviors may be, JK is very considerate and tolerant of them and consideration is another one of Jimin's love language. This goes back to having been denied his dreams by his father. That denial flowed from a lack of consideration of his needs.

And as much as emotionally connected he is with Tae, Tae barely takes his feelings into consideration. And you see this in the letter Tae's written to Jimin. Or even in the dumpling incident where Tae put his want above Jimin's.

Not to mention the moments, JM have had to walk out of rooms because- Tae won't stop playing with JK's dam hair! Lol. They are cute.

People take from Jimin without reservation. But Jk is considerate as Jimin is of JK's needs.

Jk wasn't the 'exhibitionist' in that pair. He's a very private individual from what I can tell.

That PDA, that exhibitionism we see in them, that's all Park Jimin. He kinky. Dude freaky as fuck- we ain't mad at that. Bless him.

He enjoys public displays of affection. It's how he receives love. But PDA is not JK's love language, in my opinion. Yet he goes out of his way to show his affections for JM openly.

The best example I can give of this is Rosebowl.

JK understands that in order to be intimate with JM he has to allow himself to be influenced by him.

And Jimin understands that, as much as he wants to be close to JK that he doesn't have to rush him or force him into giving him the things he need from their relationship.

They are both very considerate of each other's needs, as random and ridiculous as those needs may be and cater to them in a way that is uniquely them.

Take the New Jersey live 2019 for example. Jimin seemed exhausted. Didn't want to be on another Live that night but JK clearly wanted to be seen on a Live together with him so he was there.

Another instance is the rock bison incident, where JM exchanged his toy for JK's just to make JK happy.

CONCLUSION

Listen, Jimin is in love with Jk no matter how imperfect you think he is.

No matter how much you think JK sucks at expressing his feelings for JM, Jimin loves him. No matter how close JM is with the other members, aka VMin, Yoonmin, Minimoni and the others; no matter the lack of emotional and physical boundaries between him and the others he will always fall back on Jk because none of those relationships fulfill him as much as JK does.

Jimin's constant need to be around JK could only mean there is some he gets from JK, a sense of fulfillment he gets that he doesn't get from any other member.

Keep supporting Jikook.

Signed,

GOLDY

#jikooktheories #kookmin analysis #jikook analysis #kookmin theories #jikook #jikook is real #jikook scenarios #nightswithkookmin #goldy #Jimin's love language

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karezzasstuff · 3 years ago

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SPIRITUAL Buddha

INFORMATION ABOUT LIFE AND THAT THINGS A PEOPLE NEEDS SOMETIMES

HOW TANTRA BRINGS YOUR INTENSE TOGETHER

"Cumshot is not important, but the contact with each other": how tantra gives you a more intense sex life

“In tantra sex, we slow down, feel and enjoy everything that happens in the body and learn to surf the waves of ecstasy that trigger all those feelings all over your body.” The lockdown forced us to slow down, with more time for ourselves and each other. And that makes tantra more relevant than ever. The Eastern attitude to life ensures a better connection with yourself and a more intense sex life. Expert Inge Leemans explains how this works and how you can use it yourself in bed, together or alone. “You create a deeper desire and a fuller orgasm.

”When you hear the word 'tantra', you may think of a couple in bed who - with or without the guidance of a dubious guru - do their best to slow down the orgasm before the explosion. Duh, you think. Why should I inflict such harm on myself? Expert Inge Leemans of Rising Heart (Inge gives tantric workshops and initiation lessons to both singles and couples, ed.) immediately dismisses this assumption as a misunderstanding.

“Tantra is about much more than sex. It is an Eastern way of life over a thousand years old that contains 112 meditation techniques, only four of which deal with sexuality. You can use tantra to breathe more consciously, walk, eat and drink ... In the West, the sexual aspect of tantra does play a greater role, that's right. But even then it is not necessarily about delaying an orgasm.”

Tantra is used therapeutically: think of couples with an unsatisfactory sex life, but also of people who suffer from stress.Inge Leemans, Rising Heart

“Tantra offers you possibilities to create an expansion of consciousness through sexuality. Tantra is a loving life path that does not focus on 'must' but on 'may'. And that has benefits that extend far beyond the bedroom. A tantric attitude to life ensures that you become more aware of what is happening inside and outside your body, so that you channel energy more easily to what really matters and thus more easily let go of what is not important. This way you get closer to your unique self. And don't we all want that?”

Greater meaning

Inge Leemans: “On the one hand, Tantra is used therapeutically when a specific problem arises: for example, couples with an unsatisfactory sex life, but also for people who suffer from stress. On the other hand, there are also many people who seek meaning. In that case Tantra can provide a deeper fulfillment of life, for a greater spiritual connection.”

“People are increasingly searching. While in the past we were mainly concerned with survival – our grandparents had to put bread on the table – today we live in a society in which our basic needs are met and we can afford to go in search of greater consciousness. That also explains the success of tantra and other forms of meditation.”

slow sex

Let's talk about sex. The promise of tantra sex means that we feel more like making love and experience more intense orgasms. And leave those two things high on many a female wish list.

Inge Leemans: “Most people experience sex from a state of tension and excitement, with the aim of discharging. People prefer to make love when they are in love and when there is sexual attraction. In this way, dopamine (happiness hormone) is released, something to which we become addicted. That can be a pitfall. In any relationship, the strong attraction wears off after a while and then many couples turn to attributes or other partners—quick fixes—to recreate that same feeling.”

With tantra sex we slow down, feel and enjoy everything that happens in the body.Inge Leemans, Rising Heart

“Tantrace sex works more on oxytocin (love hormone). You achieve this by caressing, cuddling, looking each other in the eye. Tantra sex therefore does not necessarily start from tension and sexual drive, but from relaxation and love. It's not about cumming, it's about the contact itself. When you make love – with yourself or with someone else – from a feeling of relaxation and not under the pressure of the tension you feel in your pelvis, oxygen and blood will spread better throughout your body and not just centralize in that pelvis. .”

“With tantra sex we slow down, feel and enjoy everything that happens in the body (all emotions are welcome) and we learn to surf the waves of ecstasy that trigger all those feelings all over your body. This way you will feel a greater connection with the world around you, create a deeper desire and experience a fuller orgasm.”

Tantra @ home

Would you like to start it yourself? Inge Leemans developed some simple exercises for singles and couples. They improve your mental well-being and your sexual appetite.

ONLY1. meditate. Sit down and focus your attention on the inside of your body: What is bubbling in your stomach? How is your breathing? Do you feel strong? … Let all the feelings come in. That seems simple, but it isn't. Our head is alert to external stimuli and our mind is constantly wandering. It is important to be aware of this and to return to your body every time. Try to meditate for ten minutes a day.

2. Love yourself. Self-love is not the same as masturbation, where we try to reach arousal and climax as quickly as possible. Self-love is about love for your body without a goal, it's about contact with your body itself. Instead of taking a quick shower to get clean, feel intensely lathering yourself and then rinsing. And instead of masturbating to cum, caress yourself and discover how those touches feel on your skin. Do not touch yourself directly on the erogenous zones, but invite other sensations by touching your body lovingly in other places. Take breaks when the excitement gets too great. At some point, your body takes over and you create so-called valley orgasms, where you feel contractions and ecstasy all over your body and not just in your vagina.

TOGETHER1. Embrace each other. A hug in rest mode, five minutes a day. You are not comforting or coveting, but just embracing, both of you breathing calmly. This exercise is important for your bond of love. Release the oxytocin.

2. Look into each other's eyes. Sit opposite each other in silence and stare into each other's eyes for five minutes. Try to bring some of your attention into your body (what am I feeling?) and some of the attention into the contact (I see you). For some couples it feels familiar, for others it is very uncomfortable. Then share your feelings: Did you feel your heart opening? Did you find it boring? Did you feel relaxed? Did you miss connection?

3. Link! When exercise 2 feels comfortable, you can move on to the next step. When you link or communicate in a connecting way, you each take turns describing what you perceive while looking at the other. Not: 'Your hair looks good today'. Well: 'Looking at you makes me happy' or 'I feel a certain distance between us'. Always from yourself and from the question: 'What does this do to me?'

4. The meditative touch. With a tantra touch you again put half of the attention in your own body, and that turns out to be a major shift for many. Usually people are purposeful in their touches. We touch someone in the hope that they will like it, or get excited. This time you touch someone solely for the sake of the contact itself. Instead of thinking 'What does that touch do to the other person?', you feel what that touch does to you.

5. Predict. Touch each other sensually and carefully, but avoid the erogenous zones or you will quickly relapse into a pattern of rapid arousal. This works wonders especially for the female body. Do this for at least 20 minutes.

6. Tantra sex. When you feel a lot of excitement, it is advisable to take enough breaks so that you are always in the moment. This also applies if you are already entwined. While making love, make eye contact, breathe together and take the time to go back into your body and feel the waves. Try to hold that awareness of your body for longer and longer. Remember: practice makes perfect and with an open mind you will achieve more. If your urge for sensation is too great or if you have little feeling for spirituality, then tantra is not obvious. Tantra is the turning from sensation to the sensitive. Those who can make the sensory switch will after a while feel ecstasy throughout the body and enjoy a deeply fulfilling feeling.'

SOURCE: https://www.hln.be/seks-en- Relaties/maken-is-niet-belangrijk-wel-het-contact-met-elkaar-hoe-tantra-je-een-intenser-seksleven-bezorgt~ ad288dce/

I can write endlessly about tantra. Because as I always start who hears tantra thinks of the word sex. No folks it's much more than that. Is more than those minutes when you cum. Tantra is enjoying body and mind. Is conveying feelings to each other. Touch plays an important role here. But also looking and your breathing. Looking and touching is feeling. Your breathing is calming your body. This way you bring each other to a different level to experience something. It is sharing with each other and this with an open feeling. It is therefore important that you start with yourself and your own body. Only if you know that, then you can also pass this on. Tantra is not focused on cumming but on enjoying each other. Intense enjoyment out of full love. When people feel the need for sex it comes down to one thing. cumming and who often cums the man. The woman is sometimes left with a lot of unanswered feeling. That is why I think it is good that such a text is sometimes published in booklets. And then one can only hope those who read it read it in a different way. The way of feeling and feeling.

Here's a site where the best books can be found; https://hetnlpcollege.nl/beste-tantra-boeken/

I have a few of these on my bookshelf myself.

People know that tantra is more than sex.

Know that you are working with your whole body.

Know that it has to do with your senses and those of the other.

Know that you must first know your own body.

And can you share that.

That Tantra is spiritual practice to increase your consciousness and to bring the masculine and feminine energies together. Tantra is the key to sexual pleasure and mental strength, obtained through rituals.

AUM NAMASTE BUDDHA BRUNO

Om Shanthi,

one must be able to connect spiritual and earthly

AUM MANI PADME HUM

#yabyum #joy #karezza #nirvana #yoga #love #meditation #unconditionallove #tantra #maithuna

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fellulahh · 4 years ago

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Lucifer x MC x Satan Fic - Part 6/???

Read Parts 1-5 here!

“They went on a date too?!” He asked mesmerised, “why did nobody tell me this?! First I see MC emerge from Satan’s room this morning, then I see you two having a tender moment and now I find out they went on a date?!”

“If you don’t mind Asmodeus, I am trying to prepare lunch. Please refrain from playing Cupid.” Lucifer muttered annoyed.

Smiling to himself as he entered his room, Satan let out a deep breath. His head was in the clouds as he walked toward his bed and flopped down on the mattress; his mind kept replaying the moment he saw MC smile as they had their drinks. He felt a sense of pride in his heart; he made MC smile despite her situation she was in.

Words couldn’t describe the feeling he had inside him. Every second he spent with the human was one that he treasured. MC’s heart may belong to Lucifer but that didn’t stop Satan from pining over her.

Gazing at the ceiling, he didn’t have a single worry in his mind as he reminisced over their morning together. It was a bittersweet memory that had already plagued his mind; perhaps MC would agree to go out with him more often?

“She merely went and had a drink with you, I’d hardly call the wedding bells yet.” He tutted to himself, realising he was daydreaming. While he made the effort to try and stop thinking about MC, it was hopeless.

Satan let out a loud sigh as he rested in his bed, giving in to his wandering mind. It wasn’t until there was a knock at the door that he was interrupted.

“Come in.” He spoke up, surprisingly gentle.

Creeping into the bedroom with a wide grin on his face appeared Asmo. Satan arched an eyebrow after seeing the cheeky expression he had on.

“What’s with you?” He asked confused as Asmo continued to simper.

“It just seems that love is in the air!” The fourth eldest giggled.

Almost immediately, Satan was intrigued. Was he referring to him and MC? “What are you talking about?” He questioned.

“Lucifer and MC!” He gushed.

Satan’s heart immediately sank. Just hearing those two names together in the same sentence made him internally sigh. “What about them?” He asked quietly, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer or not.

“Oh you should have seen them, Satan!” Asmo fantasised as he threw himself onto the bed, “I heard everything. He was telling MC hoe much he cared for her - I couldn’t see anything but I could just feel the intimacy between them you know?”

Satan’s body stiffened. “Is that so?” He mumbled as he turned away from his brother. Deep down he knew he shouldn’t have gotten excited about the morning he’d had with MC. He also knew he shouldn’t have let his heart get its hopes up after their one drink together.

“Who would have thought Lucifer could have a gentle heart.” Asmo giggled before leaning on his elbow, “HOWEVER, while we’re on the topic of intimacy...” he grinned, “what was MC doing coming out of your room this morning wearing your shirt?”

A small blush crept onto Satan’s cheeks.

“I mean I can’t keep up! First seeing you two together, then hearing Lucifer confess his admiration for MC and THEN hearing you two went on a date with each other—“

“It was hardly a date.” Satan insisted, trying to hide his sheepish smile, “I just took MC out for coffee, what’s so bad about that?”

“Perhaps the fact that you did it after she stayed in your room last night!” Asmo waved his hands, unable to handle the gossip. “Honestly I can’t keep up.”

“MC and I didn’t sleep together, Asmo.” Satan tried to explain, “she was just upset so I let her stay in my bed - I wasn’t even anywhere near her, I slept on the chair over there.” He pointed across the room.

“Fine there may not be anything going on between you two but I know lust when I hear it! What I just witnessed downstairs between Lucifer and MC was not platonic.” Asmo insisted.

Once again, Satan’s smile fell. “Perhaps you misheard them.” He spoke quietly.

“Sweetie do you know who you’re talking to?” Asmo giggled, “I could smell their lust from the next roo—“

“Listen that’s enough, okay?” Satan interrupted, not wanting to hear anymore, “just...just leave me alone - I’ve got books that I want to read.”

Asmo stared at his brother momentarily, observing his knitted eyebrows and poised lips. “Okay...” he spoke slowly, standing up, “as you wish.”

Walking away from the bed, Asmo’s mind went crazy. ‘Oh he is SO in love with MC.’ He thought to himself as he left.

Meanwhile, Satan once again flopped back onto his bed. This time when he glared at the ceiling, his heart wasn’t thumping. He didn’t want to move from his position as his troubled mind began tormenting him. He’d always lived in the shadow of Lucifer and it’d seem that wasn’t about to change; even with MC.

When there was a second knock at the door, he didn’t answer. All he wanted was to be left alone to his self pity.

“Satan?” An angelic voice called.

Turning his head, he was surprised to hear MC outside his room. Swinging his legs over his bed, he made his way to the door; opening it as soon as he came into contact.

His expression softened after seeing her stood on the other side. She looked unusually happy as she grinned at him. “Is everything okay?” He ask quietly, studying her new cheery persona.

“Yeah.” She smiled sweetly, “I’m feeling a lot better.”

‘No doubt because of Lucifer’

“Well that’s good to hear.” He faked a happy expression.

“I just wanted to come here and thank you again for this morning.” She spoke with a hint of pink on her cheeks.

“You needed cheering up, it’s the least I could do.” He nodded, avoiding her gaze.

Without any warning, MC threw her arms around him; engulfing Satan in a hug. He was taken aback by her gesture but immediately held her body in his arms as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Pulling out of the hug, MC flashed him one last toothy grin before slipping off his shirt. “I should probably give this back to you.” She spoke quietly as she removed it from her body, leaving her stood in her strappy, black top. “It’s a rather nice shirt actually, I might have to steal it again from you some time.” She joked.

“Well it looks better on you anyway.” Satan smiled genuinely.

Chuckling at his words, MC turned around and began making her way down the hallway. Satan leant against the doorframe watching her leave, noticing the new spring in her step.

Oh how he wished he was the one that caused it.

#obey me #obey me shall we date

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sope-and-shine · 4 years ago

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When World’s Collide: Pt. 1

-> Pairing: Moon God!Taehyung x Fate!Reader -> SFW // fluff, angst, humor // enemies to lovers!au, soulmate!au -> Word Count: 17.7k -> Summary: Taehyung has spent most of his life ignored by his peers and alone on his barren planet. So when a lonely King reaches out to him in hopes to bring his love to him, how could he ignore his plea? However, it’s not good to mess with fate, and it’s even worse to make the same mistake twice. -> Warnings: mild language, the reader is a bad bitch, minor character death, minor innuendos, Jimin is a hoe

a/n: THIS STORY IS DIRECTLY CONNECTED TO THE RIGHT OF A KING! YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ IT FIRST, BUT IT WOULD MAKE A LOT MORE SENSE IF YOU DO

Part 1 // Part 2 // Masterlist

At the beginning of the universe there was a big bang that created the planets and stars as we know it, and with the spread of these divine creations came the deities that would oversee them. Each being crafted from the magic that created the rest of their home in the cosmos, they take care of their planets and the other magical wonders that make up their home.

Taeyang - the Sun God - a jovial and bright spirit. He keeps the planets aligned and in motion when the Universe tips off balance. He holds each of the 9 planets accountable and they trust him to lead the way, as do the higher deities. Universe, Cosmos, Galaxy, Life, Death, and Fate - the 6 high deities that make up the universe. Without one, then the home that they share would not function as easily as it does. They trust the other deities to do their jobs no matter how big or small, and it’s that trust that makes their home run so smoothly.

Taehyung has always understood this. From the day he first opened his eyes, he’s always known where his place has been within the hierarchy of the solar system. He’s a lonely planet in the shadow of the Earth, left to hear the calls of the humans for their home planet but never for him. To those that stare up at him, he is but a night light in the vast expanse of space.

When you’re a low tier deity - much like those of the dwarf planets - you’re not as needed as others. Earth is always busy with his humans, and to find him when the deities meet is a truly rare occurrence - to find any high deity other than the Sun, Universe, Galaxy, and Fate was a true miracle. They all have important jobs that keep life on Earth flourishing and the planets orbiting around the Sun and stars lit in the sky, and he’s just there as an afterthought.

No one asks for Taehyung the Moon God. No one knows about him. No one needs him. He rests on a single rock in the sky with no one to talk to and no one to help.

He just exists.

There are some days where he’ll sit on the dark side of his planet and sit in the silence. He’ll create his own world and pretend that he is a great and powerful being with many friends and a bounty of people to look up to him. He’ll stay in that dream for days and weeks on end, and his only wish is to remain there.

On days where he’ll roam the other half of his home, he’ll sit and listen close to the tiny voices calling from Earth. He’ll listen in on their conversations and talk back as if they were talking to him for once.

“Yes, you may have a dog very soon.”

“Your brother is sick? Give him two days and he’ll be all better!”

“You wish to meet? I wish we could, but I am just a deity and you are a human.”

Hours he’d spend talking to himself and pretending that he was helping others. For that short period of time that he amused himself, he always felt lighter and like he was more than just the Moon.

It was one day talking to himself that he finally heard it. The plea was loud and bold - almost as if the person was sitting right next to him - and it had him scrambling to his feet faster than he could leave for another planet.

“Moon Goddess, please hear my prayer. I need your help,” An unfamiliar male voice pleads. Taehyung looks around, but there’s no sign of life anywhere around him. The voice continues, “Please...I no longer wish to be alone.”

It feels like a punch to the gut to have someone begging him - for him of all people - to help them feel less lonely. How could he help if he couldn’t even make real friends of his own. What was he supposed to do for him that he couldn’t do himself?

“Please...I do so much for my people and I love them with everything I am, but I can’t do this alone anymore!” The pain in the human’s voice hits Taehyung deep, deeper than anything he’s heard before. Perhaps it’s because for once, he’s the one being called upon instead, “I know this is too much to ask, but I beg of you. Just a lover or even a friend would do. But I can’t be lonely like this anymore.”

Had he said anything else then maybe Taehyung would have ignored him.

Had it not been so long that he himself had been alone, he wouldn’t have answered.

But Taehyung finds himself on Earth without a second thought, hiding behind a tree in what he can only describe as a human village. Men and women walk along a dirt path lined with miniature buildings, each one containing what looks to be food or crafts. Children run wildly between the legs of adults, and each person - young or old - that he sees wears beautiful clothing much different from his.

“Strange...” The god muses to himself.His peers were no stranger to beautiful clothing, but theirs were far from what these humans wear. Colorful silks layered over each other, simple yet beautiful. Taehyung finds himself completely entranced.

Instead of jumping out into the open, the god sticks to the shadows. He tiptoes behind stalls, peeking around the corner to watch the crowd as they pass by. He observes the way they walk and the way they interact with each other, wanting nothing more than to place himself in their conversations. But no one but Namjoon could talk to him.

If he were to bring too much attention to himself, then the other deities would figure him out before he could help Namjoon. To complete his mission, he would have no choice but to remain a secret to only the king and those within his home. No one could know about him.

It takes him a while to get through town, but Taehyung finally stumbles upon the royal castle. “Is this really a human home?” He asks himself.

The long, fenced path that leads him to the gated palace is beautiful. It’s decorated with flower bushes and lanterns every few feet. The palace itself stands tall above the gate it’s encased in. It’s much more extravagant than what he’d imagined of a human, “It’s much larger than the ones on the way here.”

A woman comes around the side of the gate wearing beautiful garments of white and pink, a basket in her hands filled with fruits. Her clothes are gorgeous, and compared to Taehyung’s own clothing, she fits in better among the people he’s seen.

“Her clothes are so beautiful.” He says aloud, admiring the swish of the fabric as she enters the grounds past the guards. Looking down at his own clothes, Taehyung pouts, “I guess I don’t fit in…” Taehyung thinks back to the beautiful pieces he’s seen in such a short time already. He’d need something just as beautiful and as comfortable as theirs.

Without much of a second thought, Taehyung uses what magical prowess he has to make himself his own white and baby blue attire to help himself blend in. His hair he decides to let down, layered on his shoulders. His new attire makes him feel somehow more powerful, and he can’t stop the proud smile that spreads on his face, “Much better.”

Taehyung makes his approach to the gate where he saw his inspiration enter, smiling brightly at the stone-faced guards that eye him wearily. The guard to the left of the doors puts a hand out in front of him, “Stop! What business do you have here?”

“What business?” Taehyung stops to think. He hadn’t thought much about human society or their culture. His plan was to show up and talk to the King, he didn’t expect to be put at a standstill so close to his destination. Without thinking much of it, he turns his nose up, “I’m here on the King’s business.”

The guard on the right takes a step forward, “The King didn’t send for anyone.”

“He called for me.” Taehyung assures them, not letting the inconvenience stop him. No matter what, he had to find a way in to see the King. Even if he had to lie his way through. “He sent me a letter himself.”

The left guard holds out his hand, “I want the letter.”

The God’s stomach drops, “I don’t have it anymore, he-...” He pauses for just a moment, “-he told me to get rid of it!”

The guard holding out his hand pulls it back and shrugs, “If it’s gone then we can’t let you in.”

The guard to his right moves forward to lead him away, but Taehyung is quick to protest, “Wait! Can’t you just take a message to him from me so he knows that I’m here? I’ll wait.”

“This is ridiculous.” The guard trying to corral him scoffs. He tries to grab him again, but Taehyung moves away once more.

“The King said it was urgent that I get here!” Taehyung insists. He tries to think of any excuse that could help him, any lie that would get him past these guards.

And then it hits him.

Pulling himself together, Taehyung stands with a certain air of false confidence, “It would be a shame if you not letting me in upsets him.”

Both guards tense at the mention of their King upset, the both of them having witnessed his temper before. Neither wanted to see their King angry again, and it showed on their faces. Taehyung considers it a win when the guard in front of him backs away with a narrowed gaze, “What’s your message?”

Taehyung is careful with his wording. He can’t outright say he is the Moon God, too many people would find out and then he’d have to deal with the higher deities coming after him. “Tell him that I read his prayer and I’m here to help. I’ll solve all of his problems just as he asked when the moon was full.”

This excuse is just enough.

The guard in front of him scoffs, “This sounds like nothing of importance.”

“Then your King won’t take long to turn me away.” He glares at Taehyung, but he enters the gates to deliver his message anyways. His companion steps in front of the two doors as they close, staring down at the God.

It only takes what feels like a few moments - for Taehyung - before the Guard returns. He looks angry, but he sighs when he meets Taehyung’s gaze, “He’ll see you.”

The god walks with a bounce in his step as he follows after the disgruntled guard. He pays no mind to the man's emotions, his only focus on the palace around him. Many women and children walk the grounds in groups, somewhere the number of children overpower the adults. More guards walk at ease around them and more at ease than the one that guides him. None of them seem to even realize just how beautiful their home really is, but Taehyung is completely in awe of its beauty.

They come to a stop in front of a closed set of doors, the guard turning around to face Taehyung before he pushes one side open for the god to enter before him. The room is large, a high ceiling being held by long red pillars that line both sides of the room. The floor is covered in tile instead of wood like the hallway, the center tiles a different color and creates a path to the large throne that sits at the other end of the room.

On top of this throne sits a man wearing deep red silks embroidered with gold. His dark hair sits in a bun on the top of his head with a gold piece holding it in place. On his lap is a closed book, resting between hands that tremble as they hold to his robes. With such beautiful silks and the elegance that radiates off his aura, this man is in no doubt the King that called to him.

When he notices Taehyung’s arrival, he stands from his throne, “Welcome-!” His book falls to his feet and the King scrambles to pick it up and place it on his throne. He clears his throat and fixes his posture, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The guard next to Taehyung bows and he follows suit, careful not to step on his new clothes. When he stands tall again, Taehyung smiles, “I apologize for taking so long.”

“That’s quite alright.” The King assures him. He turns his attention to the guard at Taehyung’s side, “You may leave us.” The man bows his head and leaves, closing the door behind him and leaving the god and the King alone.

When Taehyung is sure no one else will hear them, he smiles, “I have to say, I’m very impressed with the way you humans have made your homes.” He looks around the walls of the room and the lanterns that bring light to it, “I have to admit, there’s much more light than I’m used to.”

Namjoon sighs in relief and places a hand over his heart, “So you really are the Moon Goddess-“ The title throws the god off guard. “-I was hoping I hadn’t misread the situation.”

“Uh...yes. I am the deity of the Moon.” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly, “I think there’s actually been a-”

“When I prayed the other night begging for your help, I thought I had finally gone crazy!” Namjoon makes slow steps off of his throne and to the brunette. He stops in front of him, standing just a few inches taller with a look of pure wonder and merriment, “But you’re here. You’re right here.” He reaches out to touch his shoulders but he stops himself, not wanting to offend the deity in front of him in any way, “Do Gods and Goddesses wear hanboks as well?”

“Not quite. We wear robes of silk in whatever form is most comfortable. I made this myself.” Taehyung turns from side to side, adding in a slow turn for the king to see the extent of his handiwork.

“Remarkable~”

“Yes, I suppose it is. Now, about me being the Goddess-”

“Yes! Moon Goddess. I’m still letting it all sink in.” The king places a hand to his temple - almost as if scolding himself for possibly forgetting. He shakes his head with a pleased smile and returns his attention to the god, “You really shouldn’t have bothered with the guards.”

“Right, well, I didn’t have your exact location to find you. My magic really onl-”

“Magic?!” Namjoon repeats. The mention of magic seems to startle him more than the man being a god - or goddess in his own words, “Of course you would use magic. How else would you be able to come here to me? How does it work?”

“Oh...well, I- uh…” In the eons that Taehyung has existed, he’s never once thought about his powers as anything but just that. He’s never questioned having magic, he just knows that he can use it, he knows how he can use it, and that it can be finicky even for him. Not once has he ever considered there was more to it than that. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”

Namjoon nods, “That’s fair. I suppose it would be hard to explain something you’re born with.”

“Speaking of things that we’re born with-”

“So, what’s your plan?” Namjoon asks, unintentionally interrupting the god before he does something to expose himself.

“My plan?” Taehyung repeats.

Namjoon nods, “You said you’d take care of all of my problems. I assume you have a plan.”

“Yes...A plan!” Taehyung tries to let the reminder of his words sink in, but off the top of his head, he can’t remember creating a real plan. “I do have a plan.”

On his trip down, he never considered that he’d need a real plan. He only planned to help him out and leave. It didn’t cross his mind that he should probably make a plan before meeting with a human king.

Something for him to remember in the future.

Taehyung thinks for a moment. He ignores the impatient stare that Namjoon gives him, and racks his brain for anything that could possibly help him obtain what he wants.

And then it hits him.

“A necklace!” He announces, “I’ll make one to attract your soulmate.”

“My soulmate?” Namjoon repeats with furrowed brows, “I don’t understand.”

“When the universe was born and all of the planets came along with it, the humans of Earth were created as well.” Taehyung gestures for the king to follow him to the back of his throne room where the large window resides, “The Earth God once told me that his humans were more focused on survival and protecting the other half born to them than worshiping him. He got so angry with them that he took it upon himself to split them apart.”

Outside Namjoon’s window, he can see into the garden of his palace. There are a few stragglers that still bring in baskets of goods, and some who walk slow to enjoy the fresh air, “He forced them to live their lives searching for their other half and worshiping him and the gifts he gave them.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Yeah, he made Fate angry that day.” Taehyung can still hear Fate’s cries of rage and anguish she threw at his friend that day. If she weren’t a peaceful entity, then she probably would have knocked him around too, “She nearly stripped him of his power against the higher council, but they gave him another chance.”

Namjoon nods, taking in the information the god has given him with practiced poise. He takes a look into his own garden and thinks about all of his friends and his people that spend their days working and looking for love, “Why would he do that?”

“I think - because he’s so lively and outgoing, and he has such a huge responsibility - that he doesn’t understand his humans as much as he likes to think he does.” Taehyung can’t help but think of where his friend could be at this very moment. ‘They’re just humans, Taehyung, if one dies then Life brings me another.’ His friend once told him with a shrug, as if his humans weren’t the most interesting and complicated creatures he was tasked to take care of, “To him, he has so many of you to choose from. So, he just does whatever he wants.”

“But you’ll bring mine to me?”

“I will.”

“When do we get started?”

Namjoon’s question takes a minute for Taehyung to answer. Given the circumstances he won’t know any different what he says, but even so, this process is one the god has never tried before, “I can start as soon as tomorrow.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Food, water, ingredients?”

“No, food and water are trivial for me.” Taehyung waves the offer away. Food and water were human resources, things he could have but didn’t truly need. His biggest problem would be to stay in hiding, “However, you shouldn’t tell anyone else about who I really am.”

“No?”

“Gods and Goddesses only visit humans so often when called. Others will get jealous and take it out on you. I don’t want that to happen.” Not a lie, but not the truth. It’s better that way anyways.

“I can say you’re a new advisor. An excuse to stay within my palace and be near me.” Namjoon offers, earning an appreciative nod from the god, “Do you have a name? What should I call you?”

“Call me...Jihye.” Taehyung smiles. His new female persona will work nice while he stays with the humans, “Jihye will do just fine.”

---

For two weeks, Taehyung has spent everyday using as much magic as he can to create the necklace he promised Namjoon. At first, he wasn’t sure exactly how he would complete it. To attract a soulmate you have to have a piece of them. With no clue where Namjoon’s soulmate was, or even a way to find them, he had to think of anything that would help him.

And then he had a thought.

Two halves of the same soul. Namjoon still has a connection with his soulmate even if they were separated from him. The smallest drop of his blood on a rock from his home would help the God to attract the other half ten-fold. Namjoon was more than willing to provide anything that would help him. Now, with glittering pink gems created from Namjoon’s blood as his soulmate’s heart, Taehyung just has to wait for the effects to take place.

“Lady Jihye?” A servant calls from the hall. Taehyung calls out for her to come in and she enters, “You have a visitor.”

He smiles, “You can let them in, thank you.” She nods her head and backs out of his room.

Against his better judgement, Taehyung allowed himself to take on this Jihye persona. It wouldn’t look right if he only spoke to the King and snuck around to speak to him. As long as no one knows he’s the Moon God - or Goddess as Namjoon knows him as - then he’d be alright.

Another knock is placed on the door before it opens up to reveal the same servant, “This way, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung freezes.

It’s been so long since he’d last been to a council meeting, but he’d never forget the sound of your voice. You were always present and always checking in. He should have never doubted your ability to find people.

When you step past the servant in your own hanbok similar to his - this one purple and pink with white accents - you’re sure to meet his eye with a stare that could make Death weep. In the centuries it had been since he'd seen you, you had let your hair grow longer. It pulled your outfit together in a nice updo he had seen the other woman wearing around the palace. It would seem you had done your research before you came to see him.

When his door closes and it’s just the two of you, he sends you a nervous smile, “(Y/n)!” He spreads his arms for a hug, but your expression remains unimpressed.

“Taehyung.”

He puts his arms down when he realizes you aren’t going to greet him, “What are you doing here?”

“The real question is what are you doing here, Taehyung?” You ask.

“Uh…” He takes a moment, “Sight-seeing?”

You don't acknowledge his obvious lie, “Really? Then tell me why two strings have converged.”

“Uh...fate?” You give him a look, almost as if daring to even try and explain that one. His shoulders drop, “You’re not buying it.”

“No, I’m not.” You say, “What do you think you’re doing, Taehyung?”

“I’m trying out this wonderful women’s hanbok. They’re actually very comfortable, I don’t see why the men don’t wear them instead-” He attempts to turn and spin for you to show off the fabric that lays against his skin, but you interrupt him.

“Taehyung! I don’t care about the clothing!” You yell. You take a moment to calm yourself, moving forward and keeping your voice down for any listening ears, “I want to know what you think you’re doing messing around with Fate’s work! My work!”

“What I can!” He says, “Namjoon is just lonely and he wants the comfort of his soulmate.”

“Soulmates are not for you to mess with! Did you learn nothing when I raked Jimin across the coals?” You ask, reminding him of the selfish deity with only himself in mind, “I took responsibility over his humans for a reason!”

“I didn’t assign him a new one!” Taehyung explains, trying his best to defend himself and his decisions.

“But you’re messing with their timeline! It is not time for them to meet yet, and you-” You reach over to his dresser where the shining jewels rest hidden underneath it’s cloth. He hid them there from anyone that may enter his room, but none of their eyes see as much as yours. You pluck one from the pile and shove it in his face, “creating these demon jewels will only cause trouble!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I see it all!” You remind him. You put the jewel back where it belongs and resort to pressing your finger into his chest, “These humans are mine to deal with, Taehyung. I won’t stand for you interfering with my responsibility.”

Taehyung hangs his head. He doesn’t understand why you won’t just let him do this one thing. It’s only two humans, there’s no need for everyone to make such a fuss over it. When he brings Namjoon and his soulmate together, then they’ll all see just how important this necklace really is.

When you remove your finger from his chest, he looks up, “Why can’t they just be happy sooner?”

You know better than anyone what it’s like when others mess with fate. You remember how bad Jimin messed up like it was yesterday, and it’s made your job as a deity that much harder to deal with. The other’s just don’t understand what your job entails, and it seems there’s only one way they’ll all learn.

You meet Taehyung’s eyes, “You really want to know why?” You ask

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You put your hands up in surrender and take a step back, “I’ll let you play your little matchmaking game, but don’t come crying to me when you realize what you’ve done.” You walk all the way back to the door you had come through. Before you leave, you look to Taehyung one last time, “Do you understand?”

With all the power in him, Taehyung nods, “Trust me, I won’t.”

As you leave, Taehyung is unsure if he’s really making the right decision, but he has no time to second guess himself. The only thing he can do now is wait for the gems to finish and complete the necklace before Namjoon’s soulmate would become fully attracted to it.

---

“So, this is it?” Namjoon asks.

In his hands he holds the delicate pink jewels and silver stones strung together with gold. Taehyung had finished it that morning and waited all day for Namjoon to finish with his official business before he showed it to the King. The both of them have been so excited for this day, and now it was here.

“This is it.” Taehyung unwraps the cloth from around his creation and presents it to the king, “This necklace will attract your soulmate and bring them to you.”

“Wonderful.”Namjoon takes the necklace in his hands, holding the object as gingerly as he can. His eyes take in every last detail, and he seems very pleased with the god’s work.

“Can I ask you a question, Jihye?”

“Ask away.”

“Why are you helping me?” Namjoon meets his eye, but it doesn’t ease the god’s confusion, “You said Gods and Goddess’ very rarely help humans when they ask for it. So why help me?”

“I guess I felt a lot like you.” Taehyung admits. He’d felt so lonely and like his purpose was wasteful sitting up on his planet, wasting his days daydreaming in silence. “When you’re the deity of something as insignificant as the moon, you grow lonely. Being here to help you through this makes me feel important.”

Namjoon places a reassuring hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, “Moon Goddess or no Moon Goddess, you’re pretty important to me.” The king’s smile is bright and comforting. It’s one of his more refining qualities as a king, and it’s something he’s noticed throughout his time in the palace. “It may seem silly, but I’d like to believe we’ve become friends.”

“Friends?” Taehyung repeats. Namjoon nods and Taehyung smiles, “I like that. Friends are unbreakable.”

“Oh! Speaking of breakables, what if someone breaks the necklace before my soulmate finds me?” The King asks.

“Impossible. The only way this necklace will break is if you and your loved one agree to break the bond.” Taehyung assures him. He had made sure to include that back door in his planning process. He couldn’t let anyone tear his project apart, and that included one singular half of the pair, “You’re stuck with them for eternity.”

“Just like friends.” Namjoon says, casually throwing in the similarity with a fond smile, “It sounds amazing.”

“It will be.”

It should have been.

A few days after Taehyung had finished the necklace, Namjoon fell ill. At first, it seemed like a simple cold, but the King only seemed to grow weaker as days continued to pass. There were times where in the morning he’d be able to walk around the palace garden, and by the afternoon he was bed ridden until lunch the next day. Some days, nobody would see his majesty at all.

The King’s practitioner’s tried their best to keep him fed and hydrated, but no medicine they had was able to do the trick. They could only give him remedies to take away the pain until whatever it was passed or the King went with it peacefully.

Knowing that Namjoon - someone he had become so close to - was on the brink of meeting a friend of his, Taehyung couldn’t sit himself still. When no one was watching, he ran off to the far edge of the palace hunting grounds. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him until he reached the stream Namjoon had shown him.

“(Y/n)!” He yells, crying into the wind, “(Y/n), I know you can hear me!”

“What?” You told him not to come crying to you, yet here he was interrupting your duties. He acts as though you aren’t busy with problems of your own. Yet against your own judgement, you appear behind him with a fixed appearance.

“What’s happening to him? Why is Namjoon sick?” He asks, turning to you filled with fury and sadness. He takes notice of the clothing you changed into, “Why are you wearing men’s clothing?”

You look down to the blue and white hanbok you had seen some of the palace guards wearing and shrug, “Oh, so you can walk around in women’s clothing but I can’t appreciate the design of men’s?”

The god shakes his head, “Nevermind. Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

“He’s sick.”

“I know he’s sick. Why is he sick? Why is he so weak and losing his hair?!” He demands.

You cross your arms over your chest, “I told you what would happen if you mess with fate.”

“No. You only said not to come crying to you.”

“Yet here you are.” Taehyung’s face contorts from anger to hurt and you look away from him to the trees that surround you. You sigh, “Look, I see the future and hold it in my hands-” To prove your point you hold out your hands to show the miniature galaxy that forms between your palms, an infinite number of strings tied to your fingers, “-and when you go around playing with something you shouldn’t then it plays back.”

“Then fix it!”

“I don’t think you get it, Taehyung. I. Can’t. Fix. This!” You let your mini-galaxy dissolve away and advance towards the quivering man before you. Even with his lesson being thrown right in his face, he still doesn’t understand. You use both hands to cup his cheeks, holding him there so he’s forced to look at you, “You’ve doomed their fate, and now they pay the price.”

The hurt that swims in his golden irises bubbles over in hot tears, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

He had tried so hard to make everything perfect. All he wanted to do was help humans and be important like other deities. Just like Namjoon, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore. But what is he supposed to do now that Namjoon is sick beyond repair?

“I tried to warn you.”

In your opinion, a God like Taehyung needs to be monitored more carefully. He - and other planets such as dwarves - would never be able to understand the responsibility that comes with the universe. They’re much too close to humans, far too close to temptation. They’ll learn to feel what the humans feel, and then they’re doomed to be just as destructive. That’s what happened to Jimin, and it’s already influencing him.

“Now you must learn your lesson.” You pull away from the brunette, ready to leave him there and return to your duties.

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” Taehyung asks, stopping you before you can even think of moving. With all of your knowledge, Taehyung knows there has to be other options, other paths he can choose before Namjoon’s downfall is the only one left. You just had to tell him. “What are there- maybe 12 outcomes?!”

Of course, you do know what’s to come. Two outcomes were likely about to happen in the coming weeks, and you have to prepare for them both before the time arrives. Either way, both will destroy Taehyung to a point that you don’t know if he’ll return. You can only guide him to the better of the two.

“Destroy the necklace or don’t let them meet until after he’s dead. Those are your options.” You turn your back to Taehyung, unable to meet his eye any longer. However, Taehyung isn’t finished with you.

“What do you mean ‘those are my options’?! Where are you going?!” He cries, still heartbroken and confused over the ultimatum you had given him.

The last thing you want to do is hurt Taehyung, but sometimes the harsh truth is what someone needs the most, “To do my job. Maybe you should learn to do yours.”

Taehyung didn’t take your words lightly. He did his job, but not the one he was born to do.

No.

He worked even harder to help Namjoon find his soulmate. He refused to destroy his hard work, and he definitely wasn’t going to let Namjoon die before he got the chance to see his true love.

Namjoon, however, wasn’t as sure as Taehyung that he would get to that point.

“I know you’re-” Namjoon lets out a wet cough, “-you’re working hard, Jihye. But I don’t think I’ll get there.”

Taehyung shakes his head, cutting through another piece of hair at the top on the king’s head, “You will. I know you will.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asks sleepily.

“I just have this feeling.”

“And if your feeling is wrong?”

Taehyung has been pushing the possibility of failure as far away as he possibly can. He didn’t want to ever consider his plan a lost cause. If he did that, then that would mean Namjoon is a lost cause, and Namjoon is anything but that.

“Then I’ll wait everyday for your soulmate to come to you.” Taehyung assures him.

“That won’t do me any good if I’m dead.” Namjoon reminds him. Taehyung pushes the remark aside and instead focuses on combing through the king’s hair, “They’d be talking to a skeleton.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’m sure I could figure something out.”

“You know...I read that the Egyptians would-” He coughs, “-mummify their dead.”

The suggestion makes the god stop. He had never considered that other humans may have ways to preserve their dead, “Do you really think that will work?”

“I don’t think we have anything to lose.”

At Namjoon’s request, Taehyung ordered palace guards to search for someone who could perform the procedure. He ordered them to move fast and to not waste anytime. The sooner they could find a doctor knowledgeable in the art, the sooner he’d be able to decide if turning his friend into a mummy was the way to go.

The last thing Taehyung expected was for Namjoon’s soulmate to show up as the doctor performing his procedure.

He didn’t notice the connection right away. She was quiet and straight to the point, she didn’t leave any room for Taehyung to notice anything right away. But when he brought her to the infirmary to familiarize herself with the room, is when he noticed the string that seemed to hang off of her hand. She herself hadn’t even noticed the string pulling at her smallest finger. It was as if the string was a ghost and only Taehyung had an interest in it.

By the time it came for her to meet the King himself, Taehyung had already come up with a plan to get her to touch the necklace. He didn’t care if you had told him not to do it until after. In his mind, the sooner Namjoon and his soulmate could be together the better.

If only he could’ve had her touch the necklace a moment sooner. In between the guards rushing her out of the room and Namjoon’s shallow breathing, Taehyung could see you outside of the room watching it all unfold from the corridor. You look content, far too content for someone that just witnessed true love slip away from one another. Your contempt made him angry, but he had to ignore you for Namjoon’s sake.

Unfortunately, Taehyung had needed a miracle.

Later that same night, Namjoon said his last parting words: “Watch over them for me.”

Unbeknownst to the King, he had already met his soulmate. She was just down the hall and under heavy guard. Even after his body and possessions were placed before her to begin the process, the King’s necklace was kept under close watch by his guard. Taehyung had tried so hard to remind the guard that Namjoon had wanted his necklace by his side at all times, but none of them would listen to him.

Because of that, Namjoon’s soulmate - Choi Eunha - left to return home. Namjoon himself was sealed inside of a tomb beneath his palace, and Taehyung was left to mourn the loss of friend.

It was raining the day you were sent to retrieve him. The King’s tomb had just been sealed and many palace servants had already dispersed to return to their own lives. The only person left was Taehyung, resting in a deep bow he had brought all the way to the ground. His forehead rests against the stone of the tomb, and it takes everything you have not to rip the god away from it.

You come to stand beside him, stopping just in front of the tomb's sealed entrance in the palace garden, “I tried to warn you.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “They were so close…”

“It wasn’t going to end how you had hoped.”

Taehyung’s head snaps from his mournful position to you, “You don’t know that!” He cries.

His eyes are red and puffy, and the streaks from the tears he shed paint his cheeks. His lip quivers in both anger and sadness, and you can only look at him in pity, “Taehyung, we’ve been over this.”

Taehyung turns himself around so his back rests against the king’s door. He hangs his head, “Just go away and leave me be. Haven’t you done enough?”

You feel a twinge of guilt, but you push it aside. You weren’t here to be his friend, you’re here to do a job, “I can’t. I’m supposed to bring you to the council.”

“Can’t this wait?”

You sigh, “Humans have made you soft, Taehyung.” You place a hand on his shoulder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him.

“The humans haven’t made me anything!” He protests, “It’s normal to feel sad over the loss of a friend.” Mourning is all he’d done since he last spoke to the king. Since he last saw him smile, close his eyes, take a single breath, all Taehyung has done is mourn the loss of one of the best friends he’s known.

But of course you wouldn’t understand. To you, humans are expendable beings incapable of doing anything beneficial for the universe. You were just as heartless as you’ve always been, and that’s something even Taehyung couldn’t fix, “Maybe more people would like you if you showed a little compassion.”

It shouldn’t hit you as hard as it does, but his words hurt more than you ever thought they would. Not only that, but they’re completely unnecessary. Here you are treating him with more kindness than you should be giving him, and he’s insulting you in return.

You pull your hand away, “I don’t have to be nice to you, Taehyung. I’m already giving you the option to move of your own free will.”

“Oh, wow, the bare minimum.” Taehyung says sarcastically. He flashes you a fake smile and from a flower that lays next to him, he creates a small pile of coins, “Do you want an award.”

“You want to be an ass? Fine. I can be one too.” You grab Taehyung by the front of his clothes and pull up. Together, you travel from Earth to Star 13, the meeting place of the deities.

A large opaque building held strong by blue, iridescent columns. Inside where you stand, is a singular room with large marble chairs placed in a circle. Each chair but 2 are filled, a very rare occurrence for a normal meeting. At the designated ‘front’ of the circle are the 6 chairs of the high ranking deities. Universe at the center, Life and Death on each shoulder, an empty chair and Cosmos beside them, and Galaxy and Sun on the remaining sides. These 6 make up the Higher Authority within the council.

You let go of Taehyung and allow him to fall to the floor on his own, the god only catching himself on his elbows. You cross your arms and nod to the council in front of you, “Council members (Y/n) and Moon God Taehyung.”

The members of the council nod their heads in acknowledgment, but only 1 speaks, “Welcome, we’ve been waiting for the two of you.” Universe - Hui - greets. His smile radiates calm, but his aura radiates anything but. He gestures to the empty chair next to Life, “(Y/n) please take your seat. Moon, please take the center of the circle.”

Taehyung nods and stands from his position on the floor, watching with distaste as you walk away from him to your own chair. He dusts himself off and tries to present himself better than his initial entrance, “Moon God Taehyung, reporting for council.”

“Council Member Juhyun.”

Juhyun - Deity of the galaxy stands from his chair, “We the council have been forced to acknowledge the destructive actions brought upon mere humans by Moon God Taehyung. It has come to our attention that you have not only abandoned your position for weeks, but you have tampered with soulmate strings of Fate. Is this information true?”

“Yes.”

Juhyun nods, “Would the council member please explain his reasoning for tampering with Fate’s strings?”

“Do I need any more reason besides love?” Taehyung asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. If there was one thing life on Earth had taught him, it was that love was the most powerful force. Love could make a tough man weak and weak man strong.

Bora - Goddess of the cosmos - scoffs, “Deities do not partake in love.”

“The council will need a better reason.” Juhyun says.

Taehyung looks to the council with a blank stare. In his mind, he tries to fathom how those with so much power can’t possibly see the benefits of love. He doesn’t understand how they can hear about 2 people in love who are connected by Fate and see an issue of pulling them together. Even Fate herself can’t see it!

Hoseok - Death himself tilts his head in confusion, “Nothing?”

“Maybe his own selfish desires…” Yoongi mumbles to himself, the bitterness of Life seeping through.

“If the council member Moon has no explanation then we will move forward.” Hui announces, silencing the background conversations. He turns to you, “(Y/n), any suggestions for punishment?”

You turn your attention to Hui and back to Taehyung. Discipline has been at the forefront of your mind since you first saw Taehyung’s own string of Fate cross and pull against those of humans. The anger you feel from him now is the anger you’ve felt for the past weeks that he’s been messing around. In your opinion, he has no right to be so upset with you for doing your job, but his opinion of you having no compassion is entirely inaccurate.

“I think council member Moon has had enough punishment.” You say, taking everyone by surprise. The last time someone messed with Fate’s strings, you were all but popping a blood vessel. Hoseok and Yoongi were both so worried, they thought they might have to assign a new deity.

Juhyun sits in his chair and leans over to speak with you, “Are you sure?” He asks

“Yeah, are you okay?” Yoongi adds in.

You nod, “I would like to suggest restricted access to humans and the destruction of the imposing necklace.” You turn to Hui, ignoring the hard glare being sent your way from the offending god, “I don’t want this to happen again, but from what I’ve seen, I believe he understands what he’s done was wrong.”

“Is there anyone within the council that disagrees?” Hui addresses the council, but no one argues. Whether it’s from shock that you weren’t harder on the Moon God or the fact that no one wanted to be there for very long, who knows. “Juhyun.”

Juhyun stands, “Based on the testimony of council member (Y/n) - Fate herself - he should not receive major punishment. He will, however, be sent back to Earth to destroy the necklace before it does any more damage. He will also no longer be allowed to roam Earth as he pleases, and Council Member Earth will inform the council if this punishment is not fulfilled. Is there any reason this punishment should not take place?”

No one argues and Hui continues, “Would Council Member Moon like to add anything before we make the final judgement?”

“Council Member Moon!” Taeyang shouts.

“No.”

“The Galactic Council has spoken. Meeting adjourned.”

The other members of council are quick to disappear, but Taehyung lingers. He’s never felt so numb, and he doesn’t understand why he feels this way. He suspects this is what loss feels like. Instead of a lonely sadness, it feels like a piece of himself has been ripped away and there’s nothing he can do to get it back except wait.

When he’s escorted to Earth to grab the necklace and destroy it, he can’t stop himself from hesitating. In front of him is the last piece of Namjoon he has left. If he destroys it, then the likelihood of him ever seeing Namjoon would fall away completely.

And then there’s Namjoon’s last words: “Watch over them for me.”

What kind of friend would he be to go back on his word? If friendships were for eternity, then how could he ever bring himself to stab his friend in the back even in the afterlife? The answer? He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He makes his decision as soon as Jimin calls out to check on him, “Taehyung, did you find it?”

“Yeah!” Instead of destroying the necklace he created, he pockets it. He takes another piece of jewelry from the altar and crushes it beneath his feet, breaking it just as they’d want him to break the necklace. That is what he hands to his friend on his way out, ignoring the sad smile he offers.

He didn’t need it.

He has the necklace.

As long as he keeps the necklace with him, then he’ll find Eunha again. He’ll find her and he’ll bring her and Namjoon together no matter what. Even if it takes centuries, he’ll wait as long as it takes to keep his promise to Namjoon.

Taehyung spent hundreds of years sitting alone on his space rock, holding close to him the only piece he had left of a friend and a responsibility he couldn’t fulfill. Every moment he spent alone he went over every detail that went wrong in his head. He tore himself apart over things that could have gone better and what he could’ve done differently. But in every single scenario, he refused to give up on Namjoon.

You had tried to come and see him every decade or so, just to make sure that he himself was doing okay, but Taehyung would always sneak away to the dark side of his planet. It seemed like your presence was more damaging to him than the silence. You knew he’d be upset, but you never expected it to be so severe. A part of you didn’t want him to be alone, even if it had been awhile since the incident. But there was nothing you could do if he didn’t want to see you.

It wasn’t like Taehyung wasn’t used to solitude. Even before his restrictions he was always lonely more often than not. For him, he’s just gone back to his normal life. He even went back to listening to the humans again.

It took him quite a few decades to even get used to hearing humans again, and then a few more to listen to what they were saying. Not many asked for him, though there were a handful more than he had ever received before. It made him feel better, and those few calls to him over Jimin really kept him a float during his wait.

And then he heard it.

It was quiet at first, but Taehyung was able to make out the sloppy conversation of a child.

“...4, 5, 6, 7…” There’s a slight pause to the voice, “What comes after 7?”

Taehyung stifles a laugh. He’s never had a child talk to him before. The last children he’d been able to talk to were the children at Namjoon’s palace, and they went to him in hopes that he would play.

“You have a lot of stars by you. Momma says the stars are angels. Momma also says you have a Goddess and a man living there. Is that true?” The little girl asks.

It would seem Namjoon’s influence wore off on everyone else. He’d forever be known as the Moon Goddess Taehyung and not the Moon God. And now there was a man on his planet as well? Probably a human tale or something along those lines.

“You’re quiet...” The girl says, coming to the conclusion herself, “Do you ever talk?”

He shouldn’t do it.

He shouldn’t give into the temptation again, but he doesn’t want to leave someone so cute waiting for him to answer.

With the confidence that he can stay hidden long enough, Taehyung appears for her. With a more practiced accuracy than with Namjoon’s, he lands in the little girls room on her bed, “Did you want me to talk?”

The small child turns fast away from her window, her pigtails swinging behind her, “Are you the man on the moon? Your clothes are old.”

“Do you like them?” He asks, looking down at the clothes he had modeled after the ones he had worn on Earth during his previous visit, “What’s your name?”

“Choi Eunha! I’m 5!” The little girl states proudly.

The sound of her name stops Taehyung in his tracks. On instinct, he grabs the necklace in his pocket and pulls it out to see the glowing gems. Unknowingly, he had found her again. He didn’t even have to try. As if by the will of Fate, she found him.

Taehyung puts his necklace away, “Really? 5?! You’re a big girl, aren’t you?” She nods happily and Taehyung smiles, “I think you and I are going to be best friends, Eunha.”

From the ages of 5 to 8, Taehyung spent his time as Eunha’s imaginary friend. He’d follow her to and from elementary school, he’d help her get snacks and teach her about the stars. When she grew away from imaginary friends, he settled for watching her from afar. In a way, he became her guardian, and he made sure she had everything she needed to remain happy and healthy.

When it came time for her to start high school, Taehyung realized that watching from the wings wouldn’t get anywhere. If he wanted to make sure Eunha and Namjoon would come to meet, he’d have to interfere. But this time, he won’t do it alone.

“So, what are we doing again?” Jeongguk asks.

The young dwarf planet’s god and Taehyung were both dressed up in more modern, human fashion, walking down a busy street packed with humans wearing little-to-no clothing. Taehyung had already explained to him before they left what they were doing, but Jeongguk just wasn’t picking up on it.

Something he should’ve considered before recruiting him, but it was far too late to send him back.

“We’re meeting Jimin, remember?” Taehyung asks.

That seems to jog his memory, “Oh yeah. Do you really think we’ll find him with all of these people?”

Taehyung nods, “I’m sure of it.”

Both men glide past the bouncer, using a bit of magic to slide through. In a setting like this, no one will notice the two of them appearing out of thin air. The only thing they had to worry about was pushing their way to Jimin.

“Jimin?” Jeongguk grabs someone passing by, turning them to see that they’re not Jimin at all. He pulls his hand back, “Sorry...Jimin?!” He yells again, finding another look-a-like.

Taehyung stops him before he goes chasing after every human he sees, “Jeongguk! Not everyone is going to be Jimin.”

“Well, how else do you expect to find him?”

Loud shrieks from various women burst from the crowd somewhere in front of them and Taehyung shakes his head, “Just follow the screaming.”

The younger god follows after Taehyung in confusion, allowing the eldest to lead him through the crowd. The two come to a stop on the sidelines of what looks like a small dance circle, a pink haired man clad in leather pressed up against a woman. His cheek is pressed against hers and his hands rest lightly on her waist.

“I don’t see Jimin.” The blue haired man scans the crowd around them, but he doesn’t see anything but women circling them. Taehyung sighs and grabs Jeongguk’s chin, guiding him back to the man in the middle. “Oh…”

The bubblegum pink dancer throws his head back with a smile and turns to look over the crowd. His eyes don’t take long to land on the two gods at the edge of the circle, and Jimin’s smile turns into a smirk.

When Jimin leaves his partner and walks towards them, Taehyung thinks he’s come to greet him so they can talk privately. What he doesn’t expect is for his friend to grab him by the waistline of his pants and pull him into the center of the crowd. The screams of the women around them nearly burst his eardrums - something he never thought possible. He looks back to check on Jeongguk, but the poor man is already surrounded and frozen in fear.

“You know-” Jimin pulls Taehyung’s hips against his, bringing the two of them closer. He leans in with a salacious smile, “-I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

Taehyung remains unfazed by Jimin’s actions, “That’s kinda my job. I’m supposed to stay by you.”

Jimin pats Taehyung’s cheek, “We both know exactly what I’m talking about.” He turns his back to the purple haired man and presses himself into him, throwing his head back, “So, what did you do with it?”

“The necklace?”

“No, your girl parts.” Jimin pats his thigh, “Of course I’m talking about the necklace.”

Tae leans down to Jimin’s ear, “Not until we finish talking, I’ll just let you know that I have it with me.”

“What? You think I’m going to run to the council?” The pink haired man intertwined his fingers with Taehyung’s, raising them in the air and sways his hips against him, “If I was going to do that, I would’ve told them the minute you decided not to destroy the necklace.”

Taehyung spins Jimin around to face him, their arms crossing over each other, “You knew this whole time?”

“Honey, I wrote the book.” Jimin pulls his hands from Taehyung’s grasp and gently places one on his hip, trailing the other up the man’s chest until it rests at the base of his throat, “I knew you got too close when we got to the tomb, but I wasn’t about to confront you.”

“Will you help me then?” Taehyung asks, completely unfazed.

Jimin lets his hand linger for a few moments longer before he pulls away with a sigh, “I love being raked across the coals by a strong woman just like any other man, but to cross (Y/n) is to dance with the devil.”

“Devil?”

“A human thing.”

Jimin turns himself back around to continue his dancing, circling his hips as he lowers himself to the floor in front of Taehyung. He watches him move down and up, but his focus isn’t on his body, “I just need you to keep an eye on Eunha.”

He stops in front of him and turns with a mischievous smile, “What does this entail~?”

“Becoming her friend and nothing but her friend.”

“You know every friend has done it once.” Jimin says with a wink.

“We haven’t.”

“We can change that.”

Taehyung places a hand on his friend’s arm, “Are you going to help or not?”

“Yeah, sure. What more could the council do to me?” The pink haired man shrugs. He seems to let his decision settle before his content smile turns into a wide grin, “Just one thing though.”

“What?”

Before he can do anything, Jimin grabs Taehyung by his collar and pulls him down for a sloppy kiss. He takes both Taehyung and the crowd by surprise. What he says when he pulls away only makes it worse, “I take card too.”

“We’ll talk later.”

With a blank expression, Taehyung turns around to leave. He spots Jeongguk right where he had left him, swarmed by women dancing up against him. His hands rest flat on his chest and his eyes are somehow even wider than they had been when he’d been pulled away.

Taehyung pushes his way through the women and grabs one of the younger god’s hands to pull him away, “C’mon Jeongguk.” The blue haired man silently follows after him, his movements stiff. The once hyper young man is now dragging his feet behind him.

Taehyung stops them by the bar, “Jeongguk? You okay?” He asks.

His wide doe-like eyes meet Taehyung’s, “I have seen the ways of God...”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

It’s late into the next afternoon before the two of them join Jimin in his apartment. Per the man’s request, they both waited long enough for any “guests” to leave before showing up. However, the woman that waves at them on their way out indicates that they didn’t wait long enough.

Jimin greets them at the door wearing a white robe and a chute of wine in his hand, “You’re early.”

Taehyung shakes his head and slides past him, “It’s 5 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Really?” Jimin lets Jeongguk pass him before closing his door. The two visiting stop to take off their shoes as Jimin slips past them and takes a swig, “I think I’m losing my game...”

“Game?” Jeongguk asks, one hand against the wall to hold him up as he takes off his shoes,

Jimin raises his glass to the air, “My game!”

“What kind of game are you play-ING!” Jeongguk slips, falling forward to his knees on the wood flooring of Jimin’s apartment.

“Can we just talk about the plan?” Taehyung begs.

Jimin sighs, “Look, I don’t know about the two of you, but I already have a secret identity. I’m not really looking to change that.” He walks to his kitchen and pulls out a bottle of wine to refill his empty glass.

Before he can pour himself a new glass, Taehyung grabs the bottle out of his hand, “You can’t live this lifestyle forever. You have to change it again at some point.”

“But now? Taehyung, do you know how great my life is right now?” Jimin gestures to the apartment around them, pointing out the view, the gorgeous furniture, and the great layout. It was a homeowners dream to have what Jimin has now, and Taehyung can see why he’d be reluctant to change it up and relocate.

Taehyung sighs, “I’m sure all the women you sleep with-”

“-And men!” Jeongguk adds firmly, standing next to the Moon God.

Taehyung looks at him and then Jimin, but the Earth God just shrugs and smirks, “...and men you sleep with are great and all, but you said it yourself. You’re losing your game.”

The neighboring planets stare at each other for a while until Jimin reluctantly agrees, “Fine.” He puts his hand out and motions towards his wine bottle, “Give me my wine.”

Taehyung hands it over and leans against the counter, “The question is, how do we create new identities?”

Jimin pours a steady stream into his glass, “You both literally can create whatever you want.”

“To an extent.”

“I’ll make and get you what you need.” He passes his filled chute to Jeongguk and takes a swig straight from the bottle, “The real question is how do we get close to Eunbi?”

“Eunha.”

“Whatever. How do we keep an eye on her?”

“In three years she’ll be going to college for Astronomy in Seoul. Now, she really enjoyed the museum downtown when she was little-” Jeongguk passes his empty chute to Jimin and he refills the glass for him, “Her parents brought her there every summer and with the observatory they have there, I think she’ll try and get a job there.”

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks, unimpressed with the current plan.

Jeongguk slides his empty glass to the middle of the counter again, “Yeah. How do you know she’ll even move to the city?”

“I know her.” Taehyung assures them with a proud smile, “Her dream school is up here, and she’ll need a job she can enjoy to go with it.”

Jimin takes another large swig of his wine before he chuckles, “We’re going to get in a lot of trouble if we get caught.”

“Like you said, what else could the council possibly do?”

“Make fun of us?” Jeongguks adds, his words slightly slurred from the 3 - more like 4 - glasses of wine.

The two look at each other and take a mirrored breath. This was going to be a long 3 years.

---

Jimin goes to great lengths to assimilate both unknowing gods to modern life on his planet. With the limited amount of time they have before Eunha graduates and goes to college, they spend most of their days reading up on the past 1000 years. Jimin makes suggestions on what they should read and things that are more important than others. However, his favorite topic to learn and teach about can’t be found in any book.

Social interactions are what Jimin enjoys the most. More than anything, Jimin wants to be out on the town and meeting new people. He wants to take in every human he meets and learn as much as he can about them in such a short amount of time. Their needs, wants, and thoughts are all so different and trivial, yet he can’t help himself by wanting to learn more. Jimin is more than happy to show his ways to his friends.

Taehyung is not as excited.

“Why are we here?” Taehyung asks, adjusting the unusually tight striped pants Jimin had forced him into. He’s thankful his friend was kind enough to give him a loose shirt and jacket, but he could really do without the fabric clinging to his skin.

“You’re going to learn how to interact with humans. Starting with not fixing yourself in public!” The pink haired casanova smacks Taehyung’s hand, not caring what he hits alongside it. Taehyung retracts back and Jimin sighs, “How did you ever manage to convince people you were a woman?”

“Because I already know how to interact with humans.”

“Not these humans.” The Earth deity slips his fingers under his suspenders, smoothing them out over his white button-down. He sticks his hands in the pockets of his red pants, “Humans have changed a lot since the last time you’ve been here, Taehyung. You may think you know about them, but you have no clue.”

“So why is Jeongguk here?” Taehyung points in the direction of the young deity behind them, still staring at the X’s on the back of his hand under the long sleeves of his red and black cardigan. A group of women pass in front of him, and both men watch as the young man’s eyes widen and he steps back.

Jimin slaps a hand against Taehyung’s back, “If you want Jeongguk to actually be able to help, then he needs to learn not to freeze every time a woman gets within 5 feet from him.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” Taehyung admits in defeat, “I just don’t see why you can’t tell us how.”

“Saying and doing are two very different things my friend.”

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” The two men turn around, knowing the sound of your voice all too well. Their eyes widen when they notice the outfit you chose. Tight fitted jeans with a dark green tank top tucked in and a black leather jacket, high heeled boots with a chunky heel, and short red hair in soft curls. Your outfit is much different from what you’re usually wearing, and your hair isn’t what they’d imagine you’d ever choose.

It didn’t take you long to find them, especially after Taehyung and Jeongguk’s first outing to meet up with Jimin. You had the smallest inkling of hope that Jimin would convince Taehyung his plan was pointless and not worth his time, but Jimin has never been anything but a brat when it comes to human lives and their emotions.

“Taehyung-“

“Nothing for me?” Jimin asks, sliding an arm over Taehyung’s shoulder, mirroring your current position with their third member.

You ignore the way he smiles at you, “Hi Jimin.”

“Hi, (Y/n)~” Jeongguk parrots.

You squeeze the bluenette’s shoulder and smile through your irritation, “Hello, Jeongguk…”

Taehyung smiles awkwardly, “What are you doing here?”

“Are you really going to try this again? Did you learn nothing in the centuries you’ve had to think?” You ask.

“No?”

“Oh my word…” Your eyes shut tight in disdain. The amount of ridiculousness that you’ve already let the god get away with is almost too much for you to count on one hand, and he doesn’t make it any easier by not trying, “I’m serious about this Taehyung! Do you not remember last time?” Both Jimin and Jeongguk take this as their cue to back out, leaving only you and Taehyung.

“I do! But this time will be different.”

“How so?”

“It just will be! I know it!” His determination is unlike any other, and it’s almost admirable. But his determination isn’t enough to deal with the game he’s playing.

“Taehyung, I’ve seen every outcome. Please, don’t do this again! Not to them and especially not to yourself.” His smile drops and it brings you back to the last time you had seen him, lazing around the dark side of his planet. You knew he was hurting then and he wouldn’t accept your condolence, now you just want to help him before he makes the wrong choices. “Just give me the necklace and we can get this over with.”

He shakes his head, “You can’t destroy it.”

“What do you mean I can’t destroy it?”

“It can only be broken by them.” He explains, “Look, I’ve thought long and hard about this, okay? But now I have Jimin and Jeongguk to help me out!” He points to the two men on the dance floor where Jimin tries to teach Jeongguk how to roll his body, but the younger resembles a fish flopping in the water.

“They’re your backup plan?”

Taehyung chooses to ignore your distaste, “Look, I’m going to do this whether you tell me to leave them alone or not! Now, are you going to yell at me or are you going to help me?”

“I’m not going to help you, Taehyung.” Your intention was never to help Taehyung bring his experiment together - he’s crazy for even asking, “You can play your game with these humans, but now you’re messing with Life and Death.”

Taehyung’s shoulders tense at the mention of the all powerful beings, “What do you mean Life and Death?”

“Look, I came down here to warn you.” You know the game he’s playing, and the millions of outcomes he has to choose from don’t do anything to ease your worry. All you can do is let him make his decision and hope that your warnings are enough to persuade him, “Yoongi heard about what’s going on.”

“What?”

“The whole council knows you’re down here and they - just like I am - are very pissed.”

Without thinking, Taehyung pulls you close and uses your body as a shield from the surrounding crowd. His nose rests just above your collarbone as he scans the crowd, “Yoongi’s not coming here, is he?”

“If you don’t destroy the necklace and return to your duties then he’s going to come down here and he’s going to bring Hoseok with him.” You explain, still trapped in his awkward embrace.

“Hoseok?!”

“Yes, Hoseok!” You push the god off of you and straighten out your jacket, “You guys need to give up on this let it be.”

He shakes his head, “I can’t do that.”

“Taehyung-”

“No!” He yells, catching the attention of a few people around you, “Why can’t they be happy together?! What is so wrong with that? Huh?! Why are you so adamant on keeping them apart?!”

You glance at the humans that watch you and Taehyung with caution, “There are aspects of my job that are much more complicated than you are ever going to understand, Taehyung. I’m sorry that things can’t work the way you want them to, but it is my job to see that everything within our home runs as it should.”

“Well, I can’t deal with that.” He’s come too far to just give up on everything. With Jimin and Jeongguk in his corner he could get this to work, but he won’t give in so easily, “I’m not giving up on them.”

“Then you’ll watch them fall.”

---

After their run-in with Fate a few years back, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jeongguk did their best to lay low. It wasn’t necessarily because they’re afraid of you - though there is some truth to that - but to be on Life and Death’s radar is to lay yourself out for a tiger.

Of the Deities, there are 4 over-ruling monarchs of the universe - including the God of the universe himself. Just below him are the Pillars of Balance: Life, Death, and Fate. Like face cards in a deck, the 3 work together to keep the Universe in balance.

Life: The White Knight of light. Seen among humans as a beacon of hope and balance. His creations are a work of necessity more than want.

Death: The Black Knight of destruction. What Life gives, he takes. When there is too much, he creates little. The other half.

Fate: The All-Knowing. She sees all and is the ultimate peacekeeper between the deities. Nothing gets past her. With far more secrets than should be held on one person, she is the Knight of Secrets and Serenity.

With the threat of not just one, but all three coming after them, the need to continue on a low profile is more than necessary. They’re only saving grace is your inability to see their fate.

Your All-Knowing power only coincides with living beings and the health of the universe itself, it does not extend to the deities that stem from the Universe. The only way you could know what they’re up to is if they interact with living beings. Of course, this meant no plants, no friends, and no pets, but they only have to push through until Eunha is old enough.

It was a long shot even hoping she’d get into her dream college and move to the city, but she did it just like Taehyung thought she would. She’s always been smart and determined, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to him at all - not the way it was to Jimin. Their next portion of the plan was securing a position at the museum.

“Do you have your resume?” Jimin asks.

“The paper thing?”

“Yes, the paper thing!” Jimin elbows Taehyung, “It’s the only way we’re getting through this thing without a hitch!”

Taehyung pushes him back and rubs his side, “It’s right here, calm down.” He pulls out the folder with his resume, “I’m sure if I didn’t have it I’d be able to talk my way through it anyway.”

Both men make it to the bottom of the museum steps and start their ascent to the main doors. Both bicker and remind each other of their new identities and plans. Jimin is an aspiring dance major looking for an easy job at a museum gift shop, and Taehyung has a bachelor’s in history and is looking to take the position of a museum curator. All they had to do was use a little bit of their charm to get the jobs and they would be fine.

They go through the museum doors and stop to take a look around. To their right is a window to buy tickets with a few kiosks for self service. Ahead of them is a circular desk with a few employees and a busy staircase behind it. The big room slims down to two hallways on each side and what looks to be a third and fourth behind the staircase.

Jimin nods as he takes it all in, “This place is pretty big.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Taehyung sighs, enjoying the familiarity the building offers.

“Okay, so they said our interviews would be in the office past the cafeteria, so-” Jimin takes a moment to look at the signs before he points down the left hall, “-that way?”

Taehyung shrugs, “Looks right to me.”

Both men start towards the cafeteria when they notice an employee walking backwards towards them. Taehyung rushes both him and Jimin forward, narrowly missing the man before he turns around with his coffee in hand, “I am so sorry, sir! I didn’t see you behind me.”

“Not a problem at all.” Taehyung assures him before they continue on their way.

They find their way to the interview spot and check in with the employee running it. Both men feel absolutely confident that they’ll impress whoever is hiring. Even as other candidates enter and leave the room looking very confident, they’re 100% that no matter how many people interview they’ll still get the job.

The man running the interviews steps out of the office again, “Park Jimin, the director will see you now.”

“Wish me luck!” Jimin hops up from his chair and adjusts his clothes before he walks into the interview room. He’s only in there for a total of 15 minutes before he walks back out. His expression reads calm, but Taehyung can feel the nervous energy radiating off of him. When he sits down next to Taehyung again, he taps his fingers against the arm of his chair. Without any explanation, he says, “Try not to cry.”

“Why would I cry?”

“Kim Taehyung. The Museum Director will see you now.” Jimin shrugs and sits back in his seat, not answering Taehyung’s question.

Despite the nerves that now want to hold him back, the blue haired god walks into his interview. He may have been expecting you to be behind the desk, but he definitely wasn’t expecting Mr. Life himself.

“Yoongi...” The honey blonde of his hair is much different from the natural dark locks he’s used to seeing from him, and the suit he wears isn’t anything close to the soft silk robes the grumpy deity usually wears.

“Sit down, Taehyung.” Taehyung wearily takes the seat across from him, eyeing the higher deity as the blonde stares at him, “Do you have your resume?”

“Right here.” Taehyung placed his folder on the desk and awkwardly slid it across the desk.

Yoongi picks up the folder and opens it in front of his face. Taehyung can’t see him, but he can hear the sigh, “I see a lack of coffee stains, I’m disappointed.”

“Coffee stains?” Taehyung asks.

He stands a little to try and peek above the folder, but he pops back down in his seat as soon as Yoongi sets the folder back down, “If you would have spilled the human’s coffee over yourself then I was supposed to turn you away, but I cannot.” Yoongi closes the folder and stamps it with an ‘approved’ stamp before doing the same to another folder that matches his. He pushes them both off to the side before he turns back to the man still terrified before him, “I can - however - ask you what the hell you think you’re doing?”

“Um...participating in the society humans have created for themselves?” The god tries to give his most award winning smile, but Yoongi’s blank stare is showing no sign of remorse, “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d buy that either.”

Yoongi tongues the side of his cheek, obviously holding back his anger. He leans forward and places his arms on the desk with his fingers intertwined, “I don’t think I have to tell you that I don’t approve of what you’re planning to do, right?”

“No.”

“Good, because I don’t want to talk to a dead horse.”

“A dead horse…?”

“Don’t worry about it. My point is I don’t want to go over this with you again.” The blonde deity stands from his chair and walks over to the side of his room where a window sits, “I already hear enough complaining from Fate, I don’t want to deal with your antics myself.”

Taehyung tilts his head in confusion, “Then why hire me?”

“It’s not up to me. It’s up to Fate.” Taehyung practically rolls his eyes when Yoongi says this, but the deity doesn’t pay him any mind. “You start Monday. You’ll meet with the Owner of the Museum and they will talk to you about the exhibits you’ll be in charge of.” Taehyung stands up but Yoongi flashes in front of him, “Do not bother me. Do not mess up my museum. Do I make myself clear?”

“Didn’t you just say-”

“Do I make myself clear?” Yoongi repeats.

Taehyung nods, “Yes sir.”

“Go on.” Yoongi waves him away and returns to his desk, not paying any mind to the god as he leaves.

As soon as Taehyung steps out of the interview, Jimin is in front of him looking for answers, “Did he hire you?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I guess we both got the job.” The orange haired man throws his arm over his friend’s shoulder and leads him away from the office, but Taehyung can only stare ahead blankly as they walk.

“This was not a part of the plan.”

“No, but we did accomplish part of the plan. Now we just have to complete the rest of it.” Jimin takes notice of Taehyung’s unusually grim face and stops walking, “What’s that face for?”

Taehyung furrows his brow in confusion, “What face?”

“That face!” Jimin argues. He cups Taehyung's face, “Don’t tell me you’re backing out.”

“I’m not.”

“You look like you are!” Jimin pats the sides of his face rapidly, “We’ve come too far for you to back out now.”

The blue haired man pushes Jimin away, “I won’t back out! I’m just worried.” His whole plan was centered around sneaking around and not getting caught. But with one of the Pillars of Balance on Earth keeping track of him, it’s only a matter of time before the other two join him. “Yoongi is here. On Earth. If he’s here then he brought Hoseok with him.”

“So they’re meddling too? Big deal. We can handle them.” Taehyung gives Jimin a look and he shrugs, “Okay, so we can work around them. The point is we have this.”

They did not have this.

Unlike the elder deities, Jeongguk wouldn’t be a part of the plan until much later. For now, he’d exist as a high schooler until Eunha secures a job at the museum. This left most of the plan up to Jimin and Taehyung to prepare for her arrival.

The plan was honestly very simple:

Get a job at the museum

Have Namjoon’s tomb opened

Bring Namjoon to the museum

Have Eunha touch the necklace

Namjoon comes back to life

They fall in love

The end

It’s a win-win situation for everyone.

However, Taehyung didn’t expect the worst bump in the road.

His first day meeting with the Museum owner, Taehyung had his whole speech planned. He would convince him that King Kim Namjoon was worth the money. He was going to express how significant his story is and how beneficial it will be to his museum. A story of love and compassion would warm the hearts of everyone from around the world, and they could have that in this very museum.

But beyond the door at the large desk mulling over papers was no old man wearing a cheesy tie. It was you, wearing a nice button down and a skirt. A blazer rests on the back of your chair and the papers on your desk make it look like a tornado had gone through. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, this was the biggest hole in his plan.

“Oh, you’re here. Good. I’ve been waiting for you. Please, have a seat.” You flash him a smile and point to the chair in front of you. Taehyung is very hesitant, but he takes the seat across from you anyway as you dig through a stack of folders to your right. You pull out three folders and set them on the desk between the two of you, “Alright, now, we have a few exhibit’s open for you to take over from the last curator that worked here. You can change it however you like, but I will need prior notice before I can take a look at our budget.”

You turn back to your computer to take a look at the current funds available, but Taehyung isn’t ready to move forward yet, “What is happening here?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. Of course you know what he’s talking about, but you’ve given up on entertaining Taehyung this time around.

“Why aren’t you yelling at me?” He asks.

You gesture to the computer in front of you, “Because I have a job to do?”

“Okay, but what about your real job?”

“Taehyung, I am perfectly capable of doing my day job and this job.” You hold out your palms for him to see the cosmos laid out on your palms with the strings that hang off of your fingers.

Taehyung nods and you put them away to return to your ‘day job’, “And...you’re okay with this?”

You sigh, “At this point, I can only wait for the strings to fall into place. My biggest concern is keeping you from doing something you shouldn’t be.” You click the print icon at the top of your screen and turn around to your printer to collect the forms, “I also need to make sure Jimin is behaving. He still hasn’t been forgiven by the council.”

Taehyung nods in understanding, “So, you’re just going to leave me be as long as I don’t do anything dangerous?”

“That is the plan.”

“So, if I were to want Namjoon to be brought here as an exhibit?”

“I would put in your request.” You turn back around to the god in front of you and slide the New Exhibit forms he’d be needing, “My job is Fate, Taehyung, but I have no control over how the strings align. My job is to watch them converge and keep them from being tampered with. My main concern is containing the balance of the universe.”

“So you will?”

“If that’s what you would like to do then I’ll need a formal request.” You pick up the folders on your desk and hand them over, “Look over your other exhibits as well.”

You turn back to your computer and Taehyung watches you. He sits there for a minute before he speaks up, “Is this it…?”

“That’s it.” You nod. Taehyung stands up to leave and you chime in again, “I have a meeting with the head of security, you can just leave the door open.”

“Sure thing.” Taehyung opens the door and walks out, leaving the door open just as you had asked. The whole situation felt weird for him, and part of him thinks you’re definitely lying to him.

Taehyung doesn’t even notice he’s stopped in the middle of the walkway until someone is trying to move around him, “Excuse me.”

Taehyung immediately looks up at the familiar voice, “Hoseok?” The brunette is wearing more modern, human clothes just like the other two. His hair is swept back and he has a large binder tucked under one arm with a coffee in his hand, “Hi.”

The higher deity waves as much as he can with full hands, “Hey, sorry, I’d love to chat but I have a meeting.”

Taehyung nods, but does a double take as soon as it hits him, “Wait, are you the head of security?”

“Yeah, is that a problem?” The brunettes smile is teasing, but there’s just a small lilt in the tone that has the hairs on the back of Taehyung’s neck standing up.

“No! Not at all.” He bows to the higher deity and waves, “Good to see you…”

It’s later at Jimin’s apartment with a can of beer in his hand that taehyung let’s his walls break, “We are so fucked.”

“We’re not fucked.” Jimin assures him, drinking from his own can.

“We are!”

“Question!” The two turn to Jeongguk who sits on the floor holding a pillow to his chest, “What does fuck mean?” Neither of the two make any move to answer him, and Jeongguk pulls the pillow closer to him, “Nevermind...”

Taehyung leans forward in his seat and rests his head in his hands, “Our plan keeps changing.”

“For the better!” Jimin throws an arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and pats his arm,“You have to trust the process, Taehyung.”

“The process didn’t include Yoongi, Hoseok, and (Y/n)!”

“It has always included them.” Jimin cups Taehyung’s cheek and turns his face so that he’s looking at him, “I know you’re not keen on the other deities, Taehyung, I get it. But don’t be naive. We can use this to our advantage.”

He was right, of course. After eons of council meetings and watching the 3 Pillars deal with Earth on their own, both Taehyung and Jimin have picked up on certain habits that each one is more comfortable with. Fate is easier to avoid - not in a way where she won’t come after them, but as long as they stay out of trouble then you’ll leave them be. Yoongi doesn’t involve any coaxing at all. He’ll definitely keep an eye on them, but he’s more of a silent watcher. Their biggest threat is Hoseok.

Though he is nice and surprisingly very down to Earth, Hoseok is not someone anyone can hide from. Within two days of first seeing him after the interview, Hoseok was already passing them on the streets at night and in the aisle at the grocery store. The brunette deity made sure they knew he wasn’t going away as easily as (Y/n) and Yoongi would. If he saw they were doing something he didn’t like, then he’d make it known. It wasn’t easy to stay off of his radar, but they did somehow manage to do it.

And that set them up for the beginning of their whole plan.

It’s early in the afternoon and Taehyung is talking to the archeologist who “discovered” Namjoon’s tomb. Truly, Taehyung had already opened the tomb himself, but no one needed to know that. What was important was that he impress the man enough for him to send Namjoon and all of his artifacts - including the necklace he snuck back into the crypt - to his exhibit.

“I truly believe that we can give King Namjoon a final resting place here with his tomb deteriorating at such a fast pace. I wouldn’t want to see anything damaged, especially the King’s notes on his experience with the Moon Goddess.”

“Ah, yes, the Moon Goddess~” The old man muses, “The old king was quite detailed in his recounts of her. The king dedicates almost a third of his journal to her.”

Taehyung smiles. Leave it to Namjoon to write a novel and dedicate it to him, “That’s very kind of him.”

“Indeed it was.” The older man stops and turns to the young curator, “You know, it has been very wonderful speaking with you today, Mr. Kim. I’ll talk with my colleagues, but I do hope to see you again.”

“Thank you. I hope to see you again as well.” Taehyung shakes the older gentleman’s hand, “Please have a safe trip home.”

The old man gives him a nod back and turns to leave. It’s just as he’s passing the information desk that Taehyung sees the young woman standing at the entrance - just as he had done with Jimin - looking around the large room in awe. He didn’t have to guess who she was, he just knew.

Eunha finally made it.

Taehyung takes long strides across the building's main floor to greet her, “Hi! Can I help you?”

The young soulmate offers him a relieved smile, “Yes. I’m here to apply for a security position.”

“Yes! Let me take you there.” Taehyung gestures for her to follow him. He turns in the direction of the cafeteria and then stops in his tracks before Seokjin runs into him. IN a flash he holds out his arm to stop Eunha before the blonde haired man can bump into her with his coffee, “Sorry about that, Seokjin’s coffee time is the most dangerous time of the day.”

Taehyung gives him a playful glare and the blonde just shrugs, “Okay, so maybe now I’ll start leaving it on my desk.”

Eunha chuckles to herself, and Taehyung feels his heart flutter. He hadn’t heard her laugh in so long, he forgot that he missed hearing it. He gestures for her to continue following him, and he leads her to Hoseok’s office where the brunette is collecting the mail from the box next to his door.

“Hoseok!-” The head of security jumps, turning around to see the other two. Taehyung tries not to laugh, “I have your interviewee for the security position.”

A light seems to go off in Hoseok’s head as the name rings a bell with him, “Ah! Choi Eunha, right?” Eunha nods and Hoseok offers her a hand, “Jung Hoseok. Please step into my office.”

“Good luck!” Eunha nods and thanks Taehyung for his help, the god waving back to her. He watches her enter the office and meets the eyes of Hoseok as he closes the door. He can tell the higher deity wants nothing more than for him to leave, but Taehyung isn’t as willing.

He waits across the hall in the employee lounge for about 20 minutes or so, anxiously eating a bag of chips he stole out of Jimin’s locker. He waits for the shadows to pass by the door before he attempts to peek his head out. Down the hall, he can see Eunha’s figure walking away towards the main room, a light bounce in her step. She looks excited, and Taehyung takes that as a good sign.

“Waiting for someone?”

“Hoseok!” Taehyung jumps, hitting his side against the doorknob. The god stumbles out of the doorway and turns himself around so he faces the higher deity. He leans one arm on the wall while the other wraps over his abdomen to cradle his side, his feet crossed over the other to appear ‘casual’. “Hey! Hi. How are you? Good interview?”

Hoseok chuckles, eyeing the god on another one of his shenanigans, “She got the job, Taehyung.”

“Yes!” Taehyung’s fist pumps the air, running in place in excitement.

Hoseok shakes his head, “I don’t know how you knew about Seokjin, but I guess I have to let you off the hook.”

Taehyung grabs Hoseok by the shoulders and pulls him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok awkwardly pats Taehyung’s back, “This wasn’t me. This was all up to Fate. (Y/n) just told me what sign to look for.”

The Moon God rolls his eyes and pulls back, “If you’re telling me to thank her, I won’t.”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m just telling you not to praise me for work I didn’t do.” Hoseok reiterates, “I just hope you can take whatever Fate throws at you.”

“Trust me. I can.”

Both Jimin and Taehyung made it their jobs to become Eunha’s friends as soon as she began working. They spent the first few years of her on the day shift security getting to know her and bringing her into their lives before they actually began to incorporate their plan.

If Taehyung were to ask anyone at the museum how to describe him, it would be a total fanboy. There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t mention Namjoon. Every conversation he has with anyone he tries to slip in one detail about his journey to obtain his dead king. Every small miniscule detail he gives is a segway to tell everything to Eunha.

He knows no one wants to hear him when he hops on his soapbox, but it’s what he has to do. Every move he makes is for the sake of Namjoon and Eunha to find the happiness he promised them. If he has to annoy every human he meets with his excitement, then so be it.

The day you told him his project was approved, was a day he won’t forget.

---

Taehyung knocks on the door to your office, “You wanted to see me?”

You look up from your paperwork, “Yes, please, have a seat.” You start to clear your desk and Taehyung takes the seat in front of you. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Taehyung thinks back to everything he’s done in the past week. He’s made a lot of decisions that could be considered questionable - a few that Jimin won’t even acknowledge, “Is this about the children’s exhibit? Because if it is, that was all Jeongguk’s fault, not mine.”

“No. I already know about that and I’ve chosen to ignore it as has Yoongi.” From somewhere in your overwhelming stack of papers, you pull out a blue folder and place it in front of the blonde, “This is about Namjoon.”

He takes a long look at your blank expression and the folder in front of him and bows his head, “They didn’t accept our offer...” He had thought he’d done everything he possibly could to convince the old man that his museum was the best museum. No other museum could compare! Only his would take the upmost care of Namjoon, but it he didn’t bite.

Taehyung sits up, “Can we at least talk about a temporary exhibit? Surely if we explain the situation to them, then they’ll let us have him for at least a month!”

“Taehyung….Do you really think that would be enough time? The results wouldn’t possibly change in that time.” You’re right, of course. Even if he tries to deny it, you’re always right, “What would you even tell them?”

Taehyung doesn’t even think, “That having this exhibit at our museum would be the most important decision of their lives.”

You shake your head, “No one would think that’s reason enough Taehyung.”

Taehyung can’t help but wonder why that’s always the answer anyone can ever give him. How could no one else understand the importance of love? No one seems to understand Eunha and Namjoon like he does, and this is just another wrench in his plan. How would he ever bring them together now?

“So-” You open the blue folder that sits between the two of you to reveal the form he had submitted months ago with an “approved” stamped at the bottom, “I guess it’s only for the best that they accepted our offer.”

“Are you serious?” Taehyung asks. You nod, but Taehyung still grabs the folder off the desk to see for himself. After years of begging and endless praise and admiratio towards the dead human king, Taehyung had finally gotten eactly what he wanted. His plan was actually falling into place in front of his very own eyes. “And him and Eunha?”

“Their fate is out of my hands, Taehyung.” You had hope he wouldn’t ask. The closer the two humans come together, the more complicated their fate becomes. Every step is another twist around the other string, another pin for you to deal with. You sigh, “Two converged strings brought together before their time won’t act the same way two strings slowly inching together will. Ties have been cut and burned and there's no telling how Fate will twist them even further.”

The blonde’s brow furrows in confusion, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“For all I know, their strings could knot together and the connection could never go any further.” It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen it happen. When Jimin had separated the humans from their soulmates, you’d come across many burned and knotted strings. Some were so stuck, there was no way for you to unravel them without creating a rift like the one Taehyung has made. “They would be stuck.”

“Would you be able to fix it?” He asks.

You shake your head, “Probably not in the way you want me to.”

Taehyung groans and slams his palm down against the top of your desk, startling you, “Why is Fate against them?!”

“If I knew the answer Taehyung, I would tell you.” It makes you sad to see him like this. With his own string caught in the middle of the two lovers, he’s only making himself miserable at every turn and every inconvenience. And with the outcomes that have made themselves known to you, there are countless terrible endings for the lovers. It’s like the two are world’s apart, with Taehyung hopping back and forth through hoop after hoop just to make them happy.

Without a second thought, you lean over your desk to place a hand over his, “We have the king. Accept that for now and worry about whatever plan you’ve concocted for when he gets here.”

---

Taehyung is pulled out of his memory when he sees two of the movers struggling to carry the sarcophagus he’d buried Namjoon in all those years ago, “Careful with him! I don’t want him damaged.”

“He’s fine, Taehyung.” Yoongi assures him, patting the lower god on the back, “That’s kinda why he has a box.”

Taehyung shakes his head in disapproval. He’s not surprised someone as bitter as Life doesn’t get it, “Okay, but the box is an important part of his history! It all has to be perfect.”

“Is his jewelry here yet?” The grumpy deity asks.

“You mean his lover’s necklace?” Yoongi nods, “No, they haven’t sent it yet.”

Hoseok pipes up from the loading doors, “That’s scheduled for next week, Eunha will be here for that one.”

“Eunha?” Taehyung asks. Hoseok nods and Taehyung smiles, the perfect plan forming in his mind, “Perfect.”

Hoseok warily eyes the smug expression on Taehyung’s face and chooses to ignore it, “Yeah...anyways, the necklace and a few more items will be here next week as well. That shipment won’t be as large.”

“What day is that again?”

“Tuesday.”

Yoongi groans, “A full moon…”

“What’s so bad about a full moon.” Johnny asks, unaware of the dilemma happening between the 3 deities.

“Things happen when the moon is full and I don't like it.” Yoongi says it so nonchalantly, but his glare directed at Taehyung shows how he truly feels. The Moon God is most powerful on the full Moon, and that can only spell trouble for everyone else. He sighs, “I guess I don’t have a choice, so I’ll be there.”

“Good, cause you’re my ride.” Hoseok reminds him.

“Of course I am.” Life sighs, “Just get to work in grabbing the things we have now so we can get the exhibit together for this Friday.”

The movers get to work on taking the lighter items, but Taehyung protests their movement, “But the main attraction isn’t here.”

Yoongi grabs the curator by the shoulders and turns him around, “The main attraction is the dead guy. Now get moving.”

Everyone but Taehyung continues to get back to work. The blonde takes his one chance to approach his long lost friend and gently place his hand on the top, “Don’t worry, my friend. I won’t let you down this time.”

---

The night that Taehyung intends to invoke his plan, he’s sitting in Namjoon’s exhibit on the bench in front of his sarcophagus. Every night since his arrival he’s done this, enjoying the comfort of being close to his friend. Even if the king can’t talk back, it feels familiar to be with him. Besides, Eunha will have to come and kick him out before she locks up the exhibit for the night. The perfect ruse to tell her more about her beloved soulmate.

But if Taehyung were to be honest with himself, he couldn’t be more nervous than he is right now. So many things could go wrong, and there was no telling if what he was planning to do would actually help Namjoon and Eunha. If he messed this up - if he makes everything worse - then there’s no telling what will happen to the two.

Behind him, Taehyung hears the clicking of heels against the floor of the exhibit. It’s definitely not Eunha - her shoes don’t make that sound - he only knows one person who wears heels and likes to sneak up on him, “Please tell me you’re not here to scold me again.”

“It won’t do me any good to scold you if you’re not going to listen.” You sit down next to him and rest your laptop case on the bench next to you, taking in the view of the exhibit in front of you. The king’s sarcophagus is lit by two spotlights hanging from the ceiling on either side, the jewels on the top glittering under the light.

Next to you, the blonde man sighs. He’s been acting weird all day and it’s been putting everyone on edge, “You’re worried. Is it about the necklace?”

“Do you know enough to answer my questions?” He asks.

“I do.”

“Will he wake up?”

“Yes.”

“And will she love him?” You hesitate, giving Taehyung the answer he was already worried about, “She’s not going to love him...”

You sigh, “She doesn’t remember him Taehyung.”

“He didn’t even meet her and he loved her!” He argues, standing from the bench.

“And that’s not my problem!” Taehyung never fails to forget that you can’t actually control Fate, you can only look over it and see the outcomes, “I can’t control how they love.”

“They’re soulmates, are they not?” He asks, “Tied together by Fate? Your strings?!”

You hold up a hand, “I only hold the cards, Taehyung. I play them when they’re needed.”

“That’s what you always say...” Taehyung mutters to himself, sitting back down on the bench and leaving a space in between.

You sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want them to be happy, Taehyung, but I have a job to do.”

“Your job should prioritize their happiness.”

“There are 7 trillion humans just like them, Taehyung. They can’t all be happy.” Taehyung doesn’t say anything in response and you take another deep breath to calm yourself. From down the hall, you can hear muted footsteps coming closer. With it being so close to closing time, there’s only so many people it can be. You stand and adjust your laptop case on your shoulder, “She’s coming. I’ll leave you here.”

Taehyung doesn’t bid you farewell, and you take that as your chance to slip away. As you walk past the cases parallel to the door, you see Eunha walking in to close up for the night. You see the face she makes when she sees Taehyung and you have to stifle a giggle.

“Have a good night, ma’am.” She says with a genuine smile.

You nod, “You too.”

Hopefully, of all the scenarios that could happen tonight before the morning, they all choose the best one.

~ Read Part 4 ~

41 notes · View notes

btsmutimagines · 4 years ago

Text

high stakes. (M)

Finally finished phew

Yes, I’m a hoe for blue haired Taehyung leave me alone

Word Count: 8.1k (oof)

Warnings: Light spanking? Oral (giving/recieving), dirty talk, Taehyung

The 22nd letter of the alphabet to some, to others he was a powerful man. A man who pulled the strings of his many associates that obeyed every command. He was a mysterious figure, a man whose face hasn’t been seen by many but very few described him.

Some say he’s a foreigner that settled in Seoul, on the run from the international authorities. Some say he was a tall muscular man who used to be a hitman before chasing his ventures. Some say V wasn’t even a man at all, but a woman.

You didn’t know the truth behind V either, opting out of the rumour mill that clouded the name. It wouldn’t help you anyhow as you were a mere gambler, spending parts of your paycheck on roulette and the occasional slot machine. You liked playing against dealers, calculating every move that you could make and the rush when you make a small payout from a simple game.

Gambling can be beautiful; the sweet taste of victory could overwhelm the senses and lead to people scrambling for any cash on them to keep playing. You could watch desperate men begging for a rematch, screaming that they had to be cheating because there was no way they could lose.

Of course, you knew they’re being outplayed by the dealer, but the addiction eroded their ability to see their reality.

You haven’t gone off the deep end yet but tonight, you were feeling lucky.

You walked over to a table, a game just about to start and took the empty seat in the middle. You made eye contact with the dealer, Hongjoong, he was rarely on shift here. Made you wonder what the occasion was.

“Count me in.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, you look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you. It’s been a while since I last saw you.” You rested your head on top of your hands as your elbows sat on the edge of the table.

“Been busy, you know how it is. How much?”

“I’m feeling 75 tonight.”

“Alright.” You placed your stack down, along with the others and watched the pit boss walk over and counts the cash. Your lovely stack of chips was placed in front of you as Hongjoong started dealing the cards.

You quietly watched, glancing at everyone’s cards and he finally dealt himself a card. 13, huh.

Hongjoong had a 10. The man to your right had an ace and a six, a hand you had to watch out for.

He started from the left, the first two chose to stand, you hit, Hongjoong dealt you a card, giving you a 7 and you stood. All you needed was the cards to fall as they may, you had the upper hand here.

You grinned to yourself as the other members of the table reluctantly pushed their stacks towards you.

“Another round, Miss?”

“I can’t see why not.” New faces joined, none that you bothered to concern yourself with. After all, all you had to do was win.

And win, you did.

With all the chips you had, you could build yourself a castle and no player around you were none the wiser.

“Count me in.” You heard, a man saying close to your ear as he took the empty seat next to you. He felt cold, the room dropping a few degrees as he spoke. Any weak-willed player would back out instantly, but you were more than that.

Besides, you could remember the last time you came close to a man as pretty as he was. Dare you to say, he might just be as pretty as you.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A man spoke, one that just lost a round to you. Sore loser.

“Anyone that plays a round with her loses.”

“I bet she’s cheating.” Tch. You shoot the man a glare, him retreating and you heard a chuckle.

“I don’t remember asking for advice, especially from a man who just lost.”

“Dealer, I’m betting double of what she’s got.”

“S-sir.”

“You hear me clearly, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Has Hongjoong ever stutter like that?

“And who might you be, Miss?” He took your hand, bringing it to his lips and you stared in shock. His pinstriped suit fit him perfectly, his dress shirt unbuttoned enough to give you a peek at his defined collarbones.

Taking in the image of him staring at you almost knocked you off your seat. Is it possible for a man to be this handsome or was it the trick of the light?

No, you mustn’t be swayed by his appearance. It was a ploy to play with your focus, all that matters is dealing a blow to his confidence. And that starts with your next words.

“The woman who is about to win.”

“Is that so? I like that response.”

“You want to lose?”

“I never lose.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Start the game, dealer.” The man said, not taking an eye off you and Hongjoong began to deal out cards.

You noted the cards of those around you, making sure to stand when you were sure that you had this in the bag. Despite the man sitting next to you, you still had no clue to what he could have.

You briefly glanced at him, meeting his ominous eyes for a moment and quickly looked away. It felt like he was reading you, opening up parts of you that you purposely kept hidden with the blink of his eye.

As if the more you walled off, the more he broke down with such ease.

It was unnerving, to say the least.

“Stand.”

“Stand.” He parroted, you scoffed. You placed your cards down, having yourself a lovely 19 and glanced around the table until your eyes landed on the cards of the man next to you.

A perfect 21.

“Would you look at that? A Blackjack.” You watched as the chips were pushed his way. His smirk at you mocked you as you received your wager.

“It was nice playing with you, Miss. Hope we meet again sometime.” He threw a wink at the end, taking his earnings with him and you only watched him walk away with the last word.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You stabbed your salad, taking a large bite and chewing to yourself. So maybe the thought of that man stewed in your mind longer than you thought. His domineering presence lingered around you like a cloud, making you wish for clear skies.

Those handsome features were distorted by his supercilious attitude, it was a shame.

“Uh oh, who’s next on your hit list? Is it Lisa again?”

“No, but she’s still on thin ice.”

“I hope you’re joking about that.” Your friend, Soyou laughed as she took the seat in front of you.

“And if I wasn’t?”

“Then, HR.”

“Those clowns? They would make me write an apology letter and call it a day.”

“Police?”

“It was a joke, So, I didn’t think you would turn on me like that.”

“So, now it’s a joke?” You took another bite of your salad, smiling at her and she rolled her eyes at you.

“So, what’s really on your mind?”

“There was a man…”

“Was he handsome?”

“Does it matter?”

“I mean hot guys can pretty much get away with anything.”

“You mean, hot, rich guys do. Wait, that’s not the point!”

“Hey, his hotness is a factor in this.”

“How so?”

“Since he’s stirring you up this much, he’s at least pretty.”

“It wasn’t that kind of encounter.”

“Then?”

“He beat me at Blackjack.”

“He’s a dealer?”

“No, he was a player at the table.”

“I thought blackjack was between you and the dealer?”

“It is but I’m usually the one to win my wager in my rounds and this man defied that.”

“And? Did you lose?”

“No.”

“So, why does it matter?”

“Because.”

“Y/N, you need to use your words, honey.”

“Because he smirked at me as he did. Like he knew that he would win his bet regardless of the outcome of me winning my wager or not.”

“Again, why does that matter?”

“I have a reputation to upkeep there, the Weeper they call me.”

“Weeper?”

“Because any man who plays in any game with me is bound to weep.”

“Makes you sound like a villain, you know. Some of these men are gambling their livelihoods.”

“Then, they’ve already lost.” Soyou opened her mouth to say something but closed it, resorting to eating her lunch as you finished yours.

You knew how cold you sounded but those words were a truth that not many wanted to admit.

You’ve seen it with your own eyes.

And who were you to do anything about it? You were a simple office worker who always had time to kill after work. Maybe you could be like others who drink with co-workers or spend night binging Netflix’s extensive catalogue but you like the thrill.

Watching on bated breath as you gambled, whether it was slots, roulette, poker. As long as Lady Luck was on your side, who could stop you?

So once again, you slipped into one of your nicer gowns, your fanciest heels and strutted into the casino.

The atmosphere was to your liking, fewer people than normal but the stacks seemed higher.

“Ah, why isn’t the young Miss from the other night?”

“Oh, it’s you.” As if he came to ruin your mood, the man appears. He wore a slick white suit this time, the flaps as black as the colour of his hair and you crossed your arms.

“Not quite the reaction I would have liked, to be truthful.”

“What makes you believe I would be happy to see you?”

“Why, I can tell you can’t get me out of your mind at least. Whether it’s out of hate or love doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a strange man.”

“Oh?”

“Why would you remember me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? After all, you’re the woman they call the Weeper. Is that not true?”

“Is that so?”

“Being coy, aren’t we? I thought it was because one look at your face would make a grown man cry.”

“Very funny.”

“But seeing how beautiful you are, it must be your skill.” He tilted your chin; you slapped his hand away and began walking past him.

“Don’t mock me.” You spat, him making no haste to catch up to you.

“I mean not to, Miss. I was merely intrigued by your reputation. The Weeper, enemy of men.”

“You make me sound like a villain.”

“Only repeating the rumours. And yet you were no match for me.”

“We weren’t competing.”

“Au contraire, bunny, I ruined your perfect streak, did I not? Any man who plays against you is bound to lose his wager. Yet I have not.”

“You’re just an irregularity. That’s all.”

“Sounds like you can’t accept your losses.”

“Now, you’re taunting me.”

“Does it sound like that?” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you against the side of a slot machine and you squirmed.

“Want to make a bet?” Those words, spoken as if they were a spell meant to enchant you led you to a roulette table. The dealer of the table looked nervous as the two of you had placed your bets and he smirked at you.

Gosh, how you’ve grown to hate that look in a short amount of time.

Best two out of three, you reminded yourself. If you won, it would mean his win was just an off round. If he wins, he wanted something from you. You tried to press him from more than ‘something’, but he wouldn’t budge beyond that.

Just two wins and you can watch his smirk be washed away.

Roulette was a game of luck and chance, still, you were up against the odds as you glanced at where you placed your chips.

“No more bets.” The dealer spun the wheel, dropping the ball as it joined the wheel in spinning before it landed in its spot.

“31, black.”

“That’s mine, isn’t it?”

“You sure do like to gloat.”

“Because it winds you up so perfectly, I can’t wait to unravel it all myself.”

“You talk as if something were going to happen between me and you.”

“I’m just going to have to get something will.” You regret agreeing to this stupid bet for a moment, it’s becoming clear to you that the game you were actually playing had nothing to do with the spinning roulette table.

“14, red.” You held back a grin, settling for giving him a look before turning your eyes back to the table.

If you could wish on all your lucky stars for this to land on any number you bet on, you did. After a silent prayer, you waited for the dealer’s words.

“21, red.”

“Oh, isn’t that ironic? Isn’t that where we first met?”

“Fuck you.”

“I wish you would, bunny.”

“Forget this.” You got up from the table, the man reaching for your wrist again and you cursed as he gripped hard. Would he just leave you alone?

“Now, bunny, you made a bet with me. Isn’t the honourable thing to do to fulfill your end of it?”

“Isn’t you winning enough for you? You have bragging rights now, just satisfy yourself with that.”

“No. I don’t need that.”

“Then, what is it? Spit it out.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You stuffed your head in a pillow as Soyou sat on the edge of your bed.

“He asked you out?”

“I don’t understand this man at all. One minute, he’s taunting me, the next he’s flirting with me. Is he a sadist?”

“Wouldn’t it make you a masochist for going out with him?”

“Who said I was going?”

“Weren’t you the one going on about reputations?”

“Well, that’s tainted now. So, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But, aren’t you at least curious about him?”

“And why would I be?”

“He’s hot from how you described him, he’s rich since he can gamble his life away so easily and he gambled like you, so there’s a shared interest between you two. Hey, if you snag him, you could just use him to gamble for you. It’ll be a definite win.”

“So, he’s probably toying with me-” You heard your phone vibrate next to you, raising it to wake and seeing a message.

Hey, bunny, dress casually and don’t be late. I don’t like waiting.

“He calls you a pet name already?”

“I don’t even know why he calls me that either. Makes me want to punch him square in the nose.”

“Well, don’t. It’ll ruin the atmosphere of the date.”

“I’m not going!”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You spoke too soon when you got to the address that he gave you, seeing it was a café. Soyou dragged you out of bed, essentially forcing you into going. She even dared to slip a condom in your purse as if you were going to use it. And with him, of all people.

“You came?”

“Expecting to get stood up?”

“I see you’re sharp as ever, bunny.”

“I have an actual name, you know.”

“Which you have yet to tell me if you haven’t noticed.”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Taehyung.”

“Hm, your name means ‘all wishes will come true’ huh? Explains your ridiculous luck.”

“Didn’t know you were into things like that.”

“No, I just need something to explain how I lost to you twice.”

“You should let that go, it’s not good for your health, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, opening the door to the café and seeing a rabbit hopping in front of you.

“Look, it’s your kind.”

“Very funny, Taehyung.”

“But it’s so cute.” He scooped one into his arms, petting it and you watched as it melted under his touch.

“Don’t worry, I can give you head pats too.” He petted your head, his large hand felt warm, but you were annoyed by the casual skinship.

“Ah, thank you customer for catching him! He managed to get out.” A staff member bowed to the two of you and took the rabbit from Taehyung.

“I felt a bond forming with him.”

“You can go out with him instead if you’d like?”

“And miss the chance to spend an afternoon with a beautiful woman? I think he can wait.”

“How many women have you fed that line to?”

“I never had a woman competing with a rabbit before so, none?”

“I’m not competing-”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m joking. Let’s order?” He asked, you walked up to the counter with him and ordering your lunch.

You glanced at the rabbits, making eye contact with a small brown rabbit. He hopped close to his gate, you crouched in front and paused. You weren’t quite sure how to approach a rabbit.

A staff member opened his gate for you, letting the little creature hop out and you stayed still.

“You have to show him your hand, bit off to the side so he can see it.” Taehyung was crouched next to you as you followed his instructions.

“Okay.” He began to sniff your hand, you allowed him until he got closer to you.

“I think he wants to go pet him. Go for the cheeks.” You nodded, stroking his cheek and he closed his eyes. It felt like he nuzzled into your touch as you continued to pet him, and you smiled.

“I had no idea you were well versed in rabbits.”

“My grandparents had a farm, they kept rabbits. I can still remember getting nipped by one of the dominant ones.”

“Did it hurt?”

“A bit, he had a nasty bite. But I learned.”

“What else did they have?”

“The usual, chickens and cows. Gramps grew apples and oranges too. When I was born, my grandparents planted an apple tree that day. Every summer, I would check on it and see it grew taller than me.”

“You were competing with a tree, Taehyung.”

“It’s silly but I hate to lose.”

“You were bound to.”

“Unfortunately.” You laughed, Taehyung giving you an incredulous look.

“I pour part of my life story to you and you laugh.”

“Because it’s hard to imagine you competing with nature of all things. Don’t tell me you marked it in your house too?”

“And what if I did?”

“Then, you’re stranger than I thought. Acting all seductive and dominant when you’re a big softie.”

“If I were that one dimensional, that would be boring as fuck. After all, being a one-trick pony wouldn’t let me win, would it?”

“Spoken like a true gambler.”

“Even now, I’m making a wager.”

“On what?”

“Well, it’s not fun if I tell you.”

“Couldn’t let go of the teasing, huh?”

“Of course not, bunny.” You rolled your eyes, getting up as your order was called. The two of you carried your food to an empty table, the meal you ordered was in the shape of a rabbit. A sandwich neatly cut into one with a side of fries.

“That’s oddly perfect.”

“I mean it is the Tokki café, Taehyung.”

“To get the ears so perfectly matched.”

“You’re oddly fascinated by this.”

“Are you not?”

“More curious about you.”

“I like the sound of t-” You stuffed a bite of your sandwich in his mouth, you watched him chewing said bite.

“I thought we start feeding each other on the fourth date at the earliest.”

“I guess we’re moving fast.”

“Mhm.” It was the only thing he mustered, beginning to eat his meal as you ate yours. You patted a napkin around your mouth, careful to not smudge your lipstick and Taehyung kept his eyes on you.

“If you have something to say, you can say it. I don’t think I have telepathy.”

“Just thinking about how I can make this day longer.”

“Did you read some pick-up artist books before coming here?”

“Tch, those books are just for desperate people who can’t flirt.”

“Who knows, maybe they’ll teach you about subtlety.”

“Subtlety? I know what I want and go after it, simple.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“I don’t give up if that’s what you’re asking.” Of course, a man like him would chase until the very end. You met him at a casino for goodness sake. A place where people can put up their homes, cars, livelihoods for a chance to win.

Why would he be any different?

“Unless I know for sure there’s no chance. I also don’t like wasting my time, Y/N.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” You jogged to catch up with him, stopping when he got in front of a rather expensive car.

“Ladies first.” He opened the passenger door, you hesitated before getting in and he got into the driver seat a few moments later.

“This isn’t where you drive me to some unknown fields and kill me or something.”

“We’re downtown, Y/N, also I’m not from here. So, if anything, we’re more likely to get lost in the city.”

“And you don’t have a GPS.”

“Got one in here.” He pointed to his head and you groaned. Is this a common trait amongst men? You still remember ending up three towns over from where you lived when your high school boyfriend wanted to take you to some cool restaurant. Your mother never let you hear the end of it, she still brings up when you called her now and then.

“Oh, great.” You remarked.

After dealing with some traffic, he parked in front of an arcade.

“A change of pace.”

“Right.” The two of you walked in together, him paying the entrance fee and you two entering the hall. The large room was filled with games, the place was mostly filled with teens and kids running around to different games.

“Come on.” He took your hand, pulling you into the direction of a racing game and taking a seat.

“At least you can’t crash this car.”

“Hey, I just like getting to places in the fastest time possible.”

“I felt like my face was going to fly off like it does in cartoons.”

“You should star in a soap opera, really good at being dramatic.”

“I’m just surprised you haven’t lost your licence.” You said as you took the seat next to his, gripping the steering wheel and entered the game.

“It helps with racing games.”

“Does it now?”

“Wanna test it?” You cocked an eyebrow, pressing start and began racing against Taehyung. The two of you were focused on beating the other that you hadn’t noticed the kids that just boosted his way to first place while you two got second and third respectively.

“How?”

“Tae, it’s okay to lose sometimes.”

“You’re only saying that because you got second, but me getting third?”

“Aw, sweetie, I can get you some ice cream to make you feel better.”

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

“Do you want the ice cream or not?”

“Yes.” The two of you ordered ice cream in a cup, you ordered chocolate chip cookie dough while Taehyung had rocky road.

“Let me have a bite.”

“Fine.” He stole your next bite, giving you a wink as he licked his lips.

“Taehyung.”

“It’s too sweet. Here.” He handed you another spoon, you gleefully took it and finished off your ice cream.

You played a few more games, most of them resulting in a tie or Taehyung winning. You didn’t mind much, having fun watching Taehyung’s competitive nature but making sure you were still enjoying yourself. He drove you home, you sat in the passenger seat with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I see you again?” You got out of the car, Taehyung opening the door for you and you leaned against the car door as he spoke.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take it. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Taehyung.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Soyou came over for a girl’s night, her letting herself feel at home while you gathered the snacks.

“What’s with all the flowers?”

“Oh, he sent them…” You felt your face grow hot; Taehyung has been sending them after every date since your first. They were always the prettiest bunch; no bouquet was the same as the other and the latest was a bouquet of red camellias.

“What are they?”

“Red Camellias.” You placed down the tray of snacks, taking a bite of a cookie after you replied.

“Do you know what that means?”

“That he has a romantic side to him.”

“Oh, sweet child, do you not know about floriography?”

“Do I know what?”

“The language of the flowers, Y/N. Red camellias mean ‘You’re the flame of my heart’.”

“Flowers have meanings? Can’t they just be pretty?”

“What, they can’t multi-task now? Has he sent you others?”

“Yellow tulips, some Primroses, Alyssum, red roses, of course, and I think red chrysanthemums.”

“And you thought nothing of it.”

“Well, not all of us think of flowers like you.”

“Blame my florist mother. Anyways, the tulips mean your smile is like sunshine, primroses, alyssum mean worth beyond beauty, red roses and red chrysanthemums mean I love you and primroses mean I can’t live without you.”

“W-what? Really?”

“Girl, your man is speaking sweet nothings to you with flowers and you’re questioning it?”

“I mean he could have just sent them because they’re pretty.”

“Or that he’s madly in love with you.”

“It’s only been a few dates. Besides we haven’t done anything.”

“Do you have a photo?”

“What?’

“I need a photo of him.” You looked through your photos, choosing a random one and Soyou snatched your phone.

“What is wrong with you, Y/N?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“You have the hottest man alive and you haven’t banged him at least once?” She shrieked; you covered your ears a bit at the increased pitch.

“I don’t just put out.”

“in any other situation, I would applaud you, but this guy could bag a whole nightclub, guys and girls included. You sure you want to keep him on his toes?”

“If he wanted sex, he can hire an escort.”

“I admire your strength, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, finishing off your cookie and scrolling through Netflix. You settled on a rom-com that Soyou raved about, staring to fall asleep partway through when the main characters had a stupid misunderstanding.

“Past bedtime, huh?”

“If I remember correctly,” a yawn escaping your lips mid-sentence before you continued, “you’re the older one here.”

“The movie wasn’t that boring.”

“I beg to differ. Will give a review in the morning, night.” Soyou rolled her eyes at you, got a tired laugh from you before the two of you went to bed in the living room.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You woke up, the sheets next to you empty and someone was knocking at your door. Rubbing the sleep of out of your eyes, you walked to the front door and was met with flowers in your face.

“Special delivery.”

“Tae?”

“Your one and only.” He lowered the flowers to reveal his smiling face, making you smile in return.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you until Friday.”

“I missed you, bunny.” He swiftly kissed your cheek as he stepped inside your apartment, the simple gesture making your heart skip a beat.

“Plus, I wanted to meet the famous Soyou.”

“I wonder where she went.”

“Her shoes are still here.” You checked the bathroom, seeing her not there either and going into your bedroom. On the side table was a note?

“Bunny?”

“In the bedroom.” You replied, Taehyung jogging in and peered over your shoulder.

“Someone took So, thinking it was me? Why would anyone do this?”

“It’s because of me.”

“Tae…?”

“I’m so sorry, bunny. But please leave this to me.” He started to rush out the room, you followed him until you got close enough to grab his arm.

“I’m going with you.”

“Y/N, you can’t.”

“She’s my best friend, Tae. I don’t want to lose you either, no matter how annoying you are sometimes.” He chortled at the last bit

“I’ll protect you both, I promise.” He sealed his words with a kiss to your forehead.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“Bunny, whatever you do, don’t leave the car.”

“Okay.” Yeah, right. Taehyung caressed your cheek before he left, taking the time between him entering the building before getting out yourself. You sneaked in, seeing Taehyung standing in front of a woman? Getting closer, you eavesdropped on their conversation.

“You really are a fool, V.”

V? He’s V?

“Am I? Coming to my territory, hiding in my turf and having the nerve to taking my woman? You should be thankful I came here and not my men. I’m afraid they aren’t as charitable as I am.” A cold chill ran down your spine as if someone slid an ice cube down your back. His voice was cold, calculated as if he was drained of any emotion besides silent rage.

“Where is she?”

“Aw, now you put away the venom. She really has you wrapped around her finger.” The woman came close to Taehyung, having the gull to touch his jaw with a wicked smile on her lips.

Is this the world Taehyung lives in?

“Beg. I want to hear the great V pathetically beg for his little girlfriend’s life.” You saw him get down on his knees, you could tell he was gritting his teeth as he spat his next words.

“Please. She’s innocent to the life I lead, someone I should have never tainted with my cursed soul. Let her go, I’m begging you. It’s me you wanted anyways.”

“Bring her out.” You watched as a man carried a passed out Soyou, her face covered in soot and her clothes tattered. What did they do to her?

“Looks like I clipped your little angel’s wings. But don’t worry, she’s still breathing.”

“I’m so sorry they did this to you. I-“

“Sorry to interrupt your little monologue but I’m here for a deal.”

“What?” He barked, the coldness was back.

“Oh, you can’t get all prickly with me. I kept her alive, didn’t I? Killing her would give me pleasure but I want more than that.”

“What is it?”

“I want the White Rabbit.” White Rabbit? What is that?

“You talk big, don’t you?”

“I’m a woman with ambitions, V. After all, is this woman not worth as much?”

“Let me think about it.” He crossed his finger behind his back, was that a signal to someone? To answer your question, you heard a volley of gunshots. You shut your eyes tight, covering your ears as the shots rang out and you tried to sneak back out the building. You hurriedly got in the car, your heart racing as you sat.

He had a shooter hidden in the building already? Was this common for him? You didn’t see him flinch as the shooting started, still as a statue.

“Miss Y/N?”

“Who are you?”

“A friend of V, miss. He has instructed that I take you home.”

“Where’s my friend? She was in there-”

“I know you’re scared but Mr. V will take care of it.”

“No-” You tried to open the door, the handle not budging as the man drove you off.

“What the fuck? You know kidnapping is a fucking crime, right?”

“I’ve done worse, Miss.” Your eyes widen at his statement, quickly giving up on resisting the man. He claims to be a friend of Taehyung who is also the infamous V. If the gunfire you heard was evidence of the people who were his friends, it would be wiser to cooperate.

He stopped in front of your building, you quickly got out and the man rolled down the window to leave with one thought.

“He always keeps his promise.”

Those words took root in your mind as you waited for a response from Soyou. It had been a week since you last saw her, trying to pretend that you weren’t desperately missing her. Just a simple phone is all you wished for.

You just remember seeing Taehyung take her phone before the two of you set out for her. If it didn’t work out, would he just make her disappear? The thought was disrupted by your phone loudly ringing and you answered without a second thought.

“Soyou? Are you alright?”

“Bunny. She’s at the Memorial Hospital, room 2305.” You heard his voice instead, your throat suddenly drying up and you just murmured an okay before hanging up.

You were running down the hall to the annoyance of a few nurses until you opened the door to her room.

“Soyou?”

“Y/N!”

“I was so worried.” You cried, tears already welling in your eyes before you could think and held her hand.

“Psh. I’m a lot tougher than I look, you know.”

“It didn’t hurt that I had a gorgeous man waiting on me hand and foot.” You looked back to where Soyou was staring, looking at Taehyung who shied away from eye contact. Has he been here the whole time?

“The nurses totally thought we were dating until I set them straight.”

“I’m too bad for you anyways.”

“Please, you carried up this huge teddy bear because I said Y/N liked them.”

“Soyou!” Taehyung snapped, Soyou giggling at his blushing face. You stayed silent, glancing at the bear that sat on the side table. The two of them bickered some more, you quietly excuse yourself to take a breather.

Wrapping your head around Taehyung being who he is. It was mind-numbing, to say the least, but seeing him acting so jovial, so carefree when he can speak so coldly, be so callous and stood still as he basically orders someone to kill.

His life was much more than yours was, a life where him getting close to someone meant they were dragged into it whether they know about it or not. That should have been you in that hospital gown, spending a week in a hospital because you fell for a man with secrets. Secrets that are enough to cost you your life.

It’s shameful how you managed to show your face to Soyou when it’s your fault she’s here in the first place. What a horrible friend you are.

“It’s not your fault.” You looked up to see Taehyung standing in front of you and you turned away from him.

“I know you saw, Kai told me you did.”

“If I knew who you were, I would have never… Soyou wouldn’t be like this.”

“I know. It’s my fault, this is just more sins I should atone for. Getting Soyou hurt, putting you in danger, hurting you in the process. I don’t think a universe filled with I’m sorry would be enough for everything I’ve done. But I am still sorry about it.”

“Taehyung. Please.”

“I made a promise to protect you. Even if it means we never meet again, I’m going to keep my word, bunny.”

“Listen, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry.” He bowed to you before walking off. You wanted to call out to him, give him a piece of your mind for not letting you speak and saying everything that you’ve been wanting to say since you last saw him but you could make two steps before he was out of your sight.

It’s always the last words with him, huh.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You helped Soyou get to her house, driving her house as she was discharged two weeks after your first visit. Taehyung vanished like a shadow, you never heard a word from him since. You kept it that way, putting your energy into rebuilding your life again.

“Did you and Tae have a fallout?”

“What?”

“Y/N, I can see that lovelorn kind of look on your face. It’s been like that for the past 2 weeks, it’s kind of sickening really.”

“Lovelorn, So? I’m not in love.”

“Please. Don’t try to fool me, I’ve watched too many romantic movies to know the situation we’re in. You blame yourself for what happened, and you don’t want Taehyung around because he’s a reminder of it.”

“Even if that’s true?”

“Then, you’re an idiot.”

“Gee, and I was trying to be a good best friend.”

“So am I. I’m not going to let my best friend miss her chance at happiness. You don’t have to punish yourself for me, I’ve forgiven you for worse things.”

“Like what?”

“Letting me wear white after Arbour day.” You looked at her for a minute, gauging how serious she was before bursting out into laughter.

“Seriously.” You said, Soyou laughing with you.

“But seriously, get your butt in gear. We have to transform you into a woman that Tae can’t keep his hands off of. A femme fatale, in simple words.”

“Soyou? What did you plan?”

“Just go with it.”

“Isn’t that what you said to me about Taehyung the first time?”

“Oh shut it, you’re in love with him now.”

“Am not.” You sassed, Soyou rolling her eyes as she pushed you into her bedroom.

“Let me work my magic.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Soyou led you out the door, you saw the man from that day bowing. His name was Kai, wasn’t it?

“Miss Y/N, Miss Soyou.”

“Is this part of your plan?”

“Of course. Plus seeing Kai in a suit is a little bonus for me.” You saw her wink at him to which he coughed to cover up the fact he was blushing.

“Do you realize what you’re getting into?”

“I don’t mind playing with little fire, Y/N.”

“Okay, I’m leaving before you start with bedroom eyes.” You got into the car, Kai hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss. V wants you to be blindfolded even.”

“Still wants to keep secrets, huh.”

“May I?”

“Go ahead.” The cotton scarf felt soft around your face as a knot was skillfully tied behind your head. You sat in anticipation, anxious about what this plan Soyou devised entails. The car finally stopped and you heard someone else open the door, you blindly taking their hand.

“I’ll lead the way.” You could only follow, holding onto an arm and walking up to what you believed was an elevator from the ding you heard. He led you in, the time you’re spending only making you more nervous.

“It’ll be alright, Miss.”

“I hope so.”

“Miss Soyou really cares about you as does V, even though he tries his best to hide it. I could dare say he loves you.” You thought you heard rustling but you dismissed as your nerves talking.

“But I can see that you both care for each other from how Miss Soyou describes you both.” Note to self: Give Soyou a piece of your mind next time.

“Ah, we’re here.” You followed, walking down a corridor and heard a door click.

“I can take it from here.” You pushed the blindfold up, seeing you holding onto Taehyung.

“You were there since I got out of the car, weren’t you?”

“You noticed.”

“For Kai to suddenly smell like your cologne was a dead giveaway, Taehyung.”

“I’m too good for the cheap one he buys.” You rolled your eyes, letting go of him and taking a few steps back.

You bit your lip, fighting the smile that threatened to show. Was it always this easy for him to toy with you like this?

“He was right, Kai I mean. About me loving you.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry. I know these aren’t the words you want to hear. Not from me, at least.” He’s still there. That goofball that stumbles on his words, teases you constantly and has more cheesy lines than a cheese factory.

“Are you willing to listen to what I have to say? Whatever it is.” He took a seat, you stayed standing.

“Yes.” You gave him a look, him nervously scratching his neck and you took a deep breath.

“I missed you. The part of you that you showed me, even when you rattled me up into some stupid bets. But when I saw you there, how emotionless you were, I was afraid. Afraid of V. Like everyone else was. Seeing you at the hospital confused me too because I thought it was all an act. That cold man is who you should be.” You looked him in the eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t say a word until he knew you were done.

“But I know it’s not. I feel it in my heart, that smile you give me, those flowers you sent me… It was all real. So I want to accept you, all of you.” You sat in his lap, cupping his cheek before pressing your lips against his.

You kept it brief, gently pulling away and resting your forehead on his.

“Give me everything, Taehyung.” You whispered, Taehyung taking his turn to kiss you. It was more passionate as if he were pouring his heart into every movement of his lips against yours.

Yet it was hot, his tongue playing with you smoothly as he kissed you deeply. His hands found your zipper, the dress giving him no resistance and it pooled in his lap.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured against your skin, pressing kisses along your neck. You made work of his shirt, revealing his chest as he played with your nipples through your bra.

You let out a moan to his pleasure, you began to ground your hips against him. A groan gave you the push to keep going, changing the rhythm your hips followed.

“Shit. Bunny.”

“Hm? What is it, Taehyung?”

“Don’t play coy, baby. I’m not afraid to punish you tonight.”

“Don’t act all tough with me, I know you’re wrapped around my finger.”

“Is that so?”

“Prove me wrong then.” A sardonic smile was on his face, knowing that he hated to lose. He took you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress hard while his hands rest on either side of your head.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He muttered against your lips, roughly taking your lips. His hands were more callous while touching you, ridding you of your underwear with one hand as if it were a simple task.

His hand dipped between your legs, crudely finding your clit and rubbing fast circles.

“No bite now, bunny? You’re wet enough to soak the sheets.”

“Rich coming from the man who’s hard as a rock.” You pressed your knee against his crotch, rubbing it through his dress pants.

“I’d be crazy if I wasn’t. Hearing you shamelessly moan my name while I pound you into the mattress, gripping the sheets hopelessly. Begging for more like the horny little bunny you are.”

“Don’t even bother to deny it, your pussy is soaking my fingers as we speak.”

“You’re a dirty man.”

“And you love it, Y/N.” He dipped down, moving his body down the bed and pushing your legs up and open for him.

You wouldn’t have the chance to speak, his tongue quickly pressed against your cunt. It took everything in you to stop salacious sounds from escaping your lips but a quick swirl of his tongue on your clit opened them like Pandora’s box.

The long strokes of his tongue alternated with short licks before you felt it enter you. Embarrassment flushed you as you heard wet sounds each time he dipped his tongue in. Soon his fingers would replace his tongue, two entering you without much.

“I want to hear more. Come on.” He smacked your thigh, eliciting a whimper from you. His thumb played with your clit as his fingers pumped fast and deep. You knew he had experience under his belt with looks like his but you were already a mess so early on.

“Show me more of that expression, bunny. I want to see how you look when you come.” He pressed on further, his fingers finding your g-shot and your clit beginning to feel overstimulated.

“Come for me.” You arched your back, toes curling and he pumped his finger while you rode out your high.

“Good girl.” You looked at him, licking his fingers clean and you sat up.

“Let me return the favour.” You said, reaching for his belt and he helped you reveal his dick. From grinding earlier, you figured he was above average but he was more than you imagined.

“You can’t intimidate my cock into getting harder by staring, you know.”

“Sorry. Just admiring.”

“Carry on.”

“Dick.”

“Funny.”

“Can be when I want to be.” You positioned him to lie down, gripping the shaft and begin slow twisting pumps, using your spit to lubricate before sinking your mouth around him.

“Oh, fuck.” You found a pace that made him twitch in your mouth, milking delicious grunts and growls from him in the process. His hands tangled in your hair as if he were controlling your pace but the loose grip let you know you were really in control.

“Shit, slow down.” You let him out of your mouth, still pumping him and licking your lip.

“Let me get a condom.” He looked through the drawer next to the bed, you took the chance to smack his ass to which he shot you a glance.

“What, you have nice cheeks.”

“So do you. Would look real nice with my handprints.”

“Want to test that?”

“Such a naughty bunny.” He retorted, flipping you on your stomach. His shins rested on the mattress on either side of your legs, one hand gripping his dick as the other held you still.

“Please, Tae. I want to feel you.” He plunged into you, the thick girth making you gasp as he slowly entered you.

“Are you okay, bunny? Does it hurt?” He pressed delicate kisses along your shoulder blades, trying to keep still until you spoke.

“I’m alright, Tae, you can move.” You breathed out.

Taehyung kept true to his word, only giving you a few slow strokes before he began his merciless thrusts. Your butt jiggled with each thrust, his hand periodically giving slaps to each cheek.

“Fuck, Taehyung.” You mewled out, unable to say more as he drilled into you. The delectable stretch you felt with each thrust numbed your mind as you felt your cunt set ablaze.

Your body grew hot, sweat forming all over your body and you could only vocalize sounds of pleasure. Taehyung’s grunts only made you wetter, allowing him to slide into your further and drive you even crazier.

“Love the way you clench -nng around me, bunny.”

“Gonna mould this pussy into the shape of my cock, do you want that, huh?”

“Fuck, please- ng. Hnng.” He slapped your ass in response, changing his pace and slid almost out of you before slamming himself back in.

“T-tae.” No words left his lips, only loud growls and grunts with the new rhythm he followed.

You cried out as one odd thrust made you come again and he kept going. Changing his pace again, his dick was perfectly angled to your g-spot and you whined from the overstimulation.

You were losing your mind, was sex always this good or was it because of Taehyung? Taehyung wouldn’t allow you to dwell on the question, pulling you back to edge of another orgasm with his touch on your clit.

“Fuck.”

“Clench around me, bunny.” You did as he asked, a low groan in your ear as a reward before he began to sloppily thrust in you. He stopped, cursing as he finally came.

“Are you alright, bunny?”He pulled out, removing the condom as you two regained your breaths. He went into the bathroom, getting something.

“Yeah.” You responded as he re-entered the room, him carefully wiping the sweat off of you.

“Good, it’s time for round two.”

“Taehyung, we don’t have to fuck like rabbits, you know.”He chuckled at your response, getting next to you and you shielded your self with your arms.

“I meant cuddles, bunny.”

“Now, come here. I don’t ever want to let you go again.”

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