#and that's prolly why we seem to make friends with each other/understand each other so easily

[astrunaria]

thinking about making a semi-autobiographical story based on the weird state my life is in rn like tatsuki fujimoto did with look back mostly because I kind of dislike how people seem to misjudge quiet kids like me a lot

[itsclydebitches]

i thank u once again for the food , your arguments make a lot of sense ! 🙏🙏 now im going crazier about this man and whatever the fuck he might got going on in his head, i swear he's such an interesting and/but, mysterious character , im not sure if i like that or not 😂 definitely frustrating tho bcz there's so many ways to interpret his actions and we cannot be 100% sure of anything until season 3 comes out aauuuugghhhh

and that part where u mention him shaking off gi-hun's hold , yeah, i was obliviously taking it as him just acting, as to seem like a "normal frustrated player who's scared they're gonna lose", but yeah idk lol ur explanation clicks way more with me now, bcz i dont think they would write in-ho in such a superficial way, specially bcz even tho he knew he wasn't going to get shot , he had the pressure of keeping up the ruse, as you said , so his reactions still makes a lot of sense !! ..thank u again for this insight its definitely pleasing my in-ho brainrot worms going around in my head lol

i have a question (u can ignore tho no pressure), bcz I've been thinking a lot of what might happen in S3, and specifically about what might happen to in-ho and if he's gonna end up alive or not, what do you think ? bcz i cant make up my mind on this , there's something in me that says that this show is definitely going into dat direction , i dont know exactly how to articulate the reasons why tho, i mostly feel like it's gonna be like his "punishment" ??? or like.. idk i just feel like they're gonna kill him off bcz of everything he's done , like "there's no other remedy".. maybe karma ? i dont know lol i suck at explaining myself (and specially in english 🫠) im so sorry but i hope it's at least half understandable what im trying to say lol and im not the best at interpretation and media analysis so that's why there's this other part of me that's not so convinced of this thought (and also prolly bcz i rlly dont want him to die lol).. so ! im curious bout ur thoughts !! ..once again 🤭

(As someone who is embarrassingly monolingual you are doing a GREAT job expressing yourself in English, my friend!)

Boy oh boy do I know the craziness that comes from being fascinated by a morally messed up blorbo lol. You’re in good company. I honestly love that In-ho’s actions are so ambiguous not just because it makes for great conversation between seasons, but because humans (and well-written characters) are complex and contradictory. Is he making these choices because he’s trying to maintain the ruse? Because he’s legitimately having flashbacks? Because he enjoys fucking with Gi-hun by pretending to be another (current) victim? It may be all three! I think we’ve gotten semi clear-cut moments throughout the season to support each motivation—In-ho protects the ruse by coming up with a decent excuse for why he knows Gi-hun’s name, he seems to display genuine emotion when they win, and he absolutely fucks with him at other times like his “Whoever picked umbrella must have bit the dust!” line—so they’re all viable and people, generally speaking, are capable of maintaining multiple motivations/emotions at once.

Oof, I’ve been thinking about Season Three too though. For me, it really comes down to what message the show wants to end on. So far we’ve seen both the hopelessness with which the games continue to perpetuate, as well as Gi-hun’s drive to enact change. On the one hand, I think it would be a more “realistic” ending for Gi-hun to fail in his goal of stopping the Games (as they're really a metaphor for a very complex social issue and societal change does not occur through a single individual, nor does it happen this quickly). Yet on the other hand I want the hopeful ending that shows how Gi-hun has made a difference, even if that’s just a small piece—the beginnings of a new momentum—of a much larger, society-wide problem. Sorry for the rambling, but all of the above dictates for me what would happen to In-ho. If Gi-hun fails then the Squid Games will perpetuate, likely with him still at the helm. However, if Gi-hun succeeds (in his own, small way) I think it would serve the narrative best for In-ho to be set free as well. Not necessarily redeemed in the eyes of Gi-hun (especially after murdering his best friend), but nevertheless allowed to start anew like he was initially promised by the same system. For me, the fact that he was a former player makes a pretty big difference. As said, it doesn’t excuse his actions, but it does provide a window into another way that victims of the games are manipulated and encouraged to take on the warped thinking that perpetuates them: maybe this is “better;” maybe this is a “mercy.” I believe In-ho deserves to get out of that spiral as much as the current players do (and yes, part of that is due to his humanization this season), but killing him wouldn’t achieve that. It would just send the message that being the “wrong” kind of victim is a death sentence. Part of dismantling the Games is undoing the propaganda In-ho has been fed and, potentially, allowing him to go back to his brother, like he should have done all those years ago.

I'm excited regardless though :D

[chanluster]

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea. 

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS: 

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

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

Were you really just friends? 

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth. 

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

You blinked. 

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cobertoravermelhado]

Every tbhk writer should know that the moment they see my pfp in their askbox the title boutta be something involving tsukasa

Anyhow HIII can i have a jealous tsukasa where reader talks about a guy they got a long with and Tsu is like "what no why who is he" and reader knows he prolly boutta terrorize the poor man so they refuse to answer and just ends up comforting him and smth aaaa

Also sorry if this is hard to read😭 i usually type normally with commas but I'm too excited-

I love Tsukasa so damn much-

Please make more requests about him! I absolutely adore him hehe!

Anywaysss!!! I hope you like it! And i’m sorry for the delay!

Warnings: Jealousy and possessiveness

-Today is being a great day for Tsukasa!

-Nothing very interesting actually happened

-He’s just so happy to se you!

-Well, you guys date and you see each other everyday, you just look happier than usual and that made him happy!!!

-He was quick to hug you when you entered the broadcast room

-He squeezed you tightly, starting to chatter about your morning with each other

-Everything was going normally! You and Tsukasa just having another nice morning

-Well...until you say something that caught his attention

“And I talked a lot with a classmate in my class! He's a fun guy, I'm getting along with him and I hope we can be friends!”

“...What?”

“Uhm? I said I’m getting along with a nice boy in my class.”

-You thought he didn't pay attention and that he just didn't hear you right

-But trust me, he heard you, he heard every word

-His smile soon faded from his face

-He hugged you tighter, in a possessive grip, which made you a little nervous

-He felt jealousy bubbling in his stomach, an irritating sensation

-His eyes turned completely dark

-If you weren't nervous before, now you should be..

“Y/N, who is this boy, mhm~?”

-He gave a strange smile while looking deep into your soul with those dark eyes

“It's just classmate I ended up getting along with, why?”

-Ahh...

-The more you talked about this idiot boy and how you got along with him, his jealousy only grew

-He didn’t liked it, he wanted it to stop

“I see, I see! So...what's his name? You didn't tell me!"

-He forced a smile for you

-Yeah you already understand that he is jealous-

-Super super jealous-

-But you needed time to think about what to do

-You can't tell who your classmate is, nuh-uh, no way

-You know that if Tsukasa finds out he will terrify the poor boy, who has done nothing wrong

-So you smiled kindly at Tsukasa as you tenderly stroked his hair

-Phew, that seemed to get his attention..

“Tsu, it's just a classmate, no need to be jealous~!”

-You squished his cheeks, he smiled droop

-Why, why didn't you want to tell him who this boy is?

-Do you like him??

-Will you leave him to be with him???

-Do you want to leave him..?

"Y/N, just tell me who he is and everything will be fine. He'll...he'll take you away from me, do you like him too?"

He asked. You could feel the jealousy and the hint of insecurity in his voice.

"No, of course not Tsukasa.."

You hugged Tsukasa more tightly and he hugged your waist, resting his head on your shoulder, wanting you to caress him more.

"I don't like him one bit. I just had a conversation with him. I love you Tsukasa, no one will be able to change that..”

-He sighed

-You didn't know if it was a sigh of relief or frustration

-But did you know he calmed down, your words made him feel better, so much better

-He still wants to know who the boy is...

-But he also wants to be like that with you, that's all that mattered

-He wants to be the one you love

[kingkatsuki]

Seeing all the discourse about tumblr algorithm n interactions n tingz

I still don’t get why people really struggle to just do the right thing. Like bro atp it’s easy as breathing.

I literally like and reblog just abt everything I interact with that I enjoy (on both my main and side). Majority of the time with at least a few comments in the tags if not on the reblog itself (tho that’s more on the writing side blog than the main for other random shit lmao).

‘S Kinda sad cus atp I think a part of me has accepted that aside from moots i’m prolly never gonna get the interaction I desire. Majority of all my notes on my writing blog? Just likes. I get reblogs here and there but most of the time that isn’t even on my actual content. Just other stuff I’ve reblogged.

Not to say I’ve never gotten reblogs on content I have created myself, but it’s a stark contrast to the amount of likes. And it’s is extremely rare that a non-moot will leave a comment or tags.

Idk. Just makes you feel lonely sometimes? Cus it’s not even really about trying to be famous or have a lot of followers anymore lmao. Just want people to talk to.

It’s understandable you may not want to reblog absolutely everything. Not even I always do it. But the vast majority of the time I am doing it. Because people deserve to know that something they created actually touched someone?

Screaming into the void is valid and what most blogs have to start out doing but that should not have to be something they have to deal with forever.

Cus at that point what even is the purpose of posting works to some website if you’re basically still just keeping it to yourself?

People have said it time and time again, but likes are worthless here.

Like if you equate it to instagram I guess (so maybe ppl will understand it better)

Tumblr likes = Instagram views

On instagram views are cool and all, but they’re faceless and don’t really do anything to promote a post and allow others to see it. Even if there are a lot of views, it isn’t extremely validating (high numbers or not). It’s the people in the comments saying stuff that matters, and likes that help the post. Like Instagram views, Tumblr likes do nothing and though there may be a lot they are not really validating or helping the post.

Tumblr reblogs = Instagram likes (+ shares)

Both of these functions on the respective websites help a post to get more seen. Instagram likes only function is to help promote posts. Tumblr’s reblogs are a little different in that you have to ability to say things while you help promote (in tags or on the post itself). Basically they’re like instagram likes and shares smooshed together. If you don’t want to do the extra work of using your words fine, but at least actually share the thing you are enjoying so others see it. Whether or not it matches your theme or not, do it. It’s your blog and if you like a post then yeet it on there. If your followers (if you have any) followed you for a specific type of content and your worried about them, fuck ‘em. Share what you want on your blog.

Tumblr comments = Instagram comments

This one is self explanatory they are the same ooga booga

N e ways that’s a lot of words I’ll get off my soapbox now.

Love u Jo 💋.

I was done talking about this but you put so much thought and effort into this Dere I think it deserves to be addressed.

Especially the point you made that it can be so lonely on here sometimes and I think it’s hard when everyone already seems like they’re in their own little friendship groups and stuff. But like some of my closest friends on here are my friends because we reblogged each other’s fics and screamed in the tags!!

I think people tell themselves “oh that person won’t care if I send them an ask/message.” But it’s like they would, everyone would🥺💕

[theglitterypages]

Beautiful Dream

Chapter 8

Prev - Next

As the players took a break, the managers are busy in attending to their needs while Kuro was busy looking around to get a glimpse of you and there, he saw you chatting with Yachi as you both gave snacks to your team, he smiled to himself, he still can't believe that you like him, he's much confident and relieved to know that he has a chance.

"You know you look kinda creepy smiling like that."

Kuro turned around and saw his best friend looking at where you are, Kenma looked at him then and the captain defended himself. "I'm just happy, don't be spoil it."

"So she's finally said it huh?"

Kenma is not a fool to not notice that you two has finally had something going on between you, he knows it just by watching those silent exchange of smiles and stares, Kuro is too obvious as well.

Kuro frowned and he realized that you have become much closer with his best friend too, did you mentioned something to Kenma? "What do you mean finally?" he asked, his arms crossed over his chest while Kuro just drank some water and left him with no word while he followed him like an idiot.

Kenma still didn't say anything, you trusted him about it and even if Kuro is his best friend, you've become his friend too so he's not gonna give him say anything and he won't even tell him that he sort of helped you realize what you feel for Kuro.

Flashback

While everyone was busy eating you and Kenma were at the corner talking to each other, he's actually the one to speak first that's why you were touched that he's warming up to you. "So you guys are still just friends?" He asked as his eyes are focused on the screen as you both sat beside each other, you shrugged and leaned your back in the wall, "Well, yeah. It's not like Tetsu is making a move but he asked me to come and watch you guys play." Kenma paused his game and looked over at you with a knowing smile, "You wouldn't consider that as a 'move'? He's technically saying that he wants to see you support him." he pointed out, Kenma saw you pout at that.

"Well I mean…it's not like I'm expecting it's just a crush after all right?"

Kenma secretly smiled at that, you're too bothered for a crush it seems. He half-heartedly nod his head and pretended to focus back to his game with a plan in his mind, you seem unsure of what you feel and he knows you're the only one who can figure it out but if he could help with this little plan in his mind he would be glad.

He's doing it for you and Kuro anyway.

"You should come and see us play, Y/N. We are planning on getting a lady manager, maybe you can help us pick? Most of the applicants are just coming to fangirl over our players."

You froze, it's not like Kenma mentioned Kuro specifically but you just knew that Kuro has fangirls, you see lots of them in his social media and they weren't just mere fangirls they're all stunning and you've seen some of them tag Kuro in pictures, he's that popular but what would you expect?

"Kuro is probably tired of taking care of the team alone he also needs someone to like assist us and stuffs like how you guys assist Karasuno. He's excited in picking, he's even doing the interviews online even if we're here." Kenma said it full of nonchalance that you didn't suspect that it was a plan.

When Kenma heard your silence, he knew he hit the right spot.

"T-That's great, I mean you guys prolly need it so bad if he's taking this seriously."

Kenma nodded and turned off the game before he looked at you just to see that troubled look on your face, he felt bad really but he knew you needed a little help in realizing things. "He's been looking for a manager for months you know…so yeah he's working hard to get a good one." you nodded your head and forced a smile.

You honestly don't know why there was a faint bitterness in you mouth when you stood up and pat Kenma's back, "I hope you guys get a good one, I'll go ahead." you told him before you walk away with lots of things on your mind.

You don't understand why you felt something like a burn on your chest when you realized that there are lots of girls around Kuro, you didn't like it.

You can't be jealous…right?

End of Flashback

You were busy washing the dishes when Kuro suddenly startled you from behind, he was lucky you didn't throw a glass at him but he earned a smack from you for doing that, "What are you doing here, cat?" you glared and he let out a low chuckle. Kuro likes teasing you, when you're annoyed he could notice the tip of your nose turning a little red with your cheeks.

It was endearing and if even if he's shy to admit it, he won't deny the fact that seeing you like this actually makes his heart race. "I'm inviting you, chibi-chan will be practicing with us tonight. You wanna watch?" when you were done in washing the dishes, Kuro gave you a dry cloth and helped you dry your hands before you both made your way back to the gym.

"That sounds fun, I'll watch." you told him as you both walked inside the gym, he gave you a slight tap on your back as he walked you back to where Karasuno was, "Just bringing back your manager, see ya later Y/N." he waved goodbye to the boys and you sat beside Nishinoya, the libero just smiled quietly before standing up to start stretching because they'll be playing next.

----

Just like what was planned you were dragged to watch Akaashi, Bokuto, Kuro, Lev, Tsukishima and Hinata play against each other, a 3v3 match. Kuro was sitting beside you as he watch Tsukishima and Lev tried blocking Bokuto, "Surround him! Make the block wider!" he instructed the two, Bokuto slightly hit the block for a rebound and when Akaashi set the ball for him he hit it nicely.

Kuro stood up to join the game and helped Tsukishima and Lev in blocking Hinata. You laughed a bit upon hearing Bokuto telling them that it's cruel to gang up on him like that but the small crow proved himself and made past the three blocker successfully.

The game ended and you enjoyed the match, Kuro kept on saying that he was impressed of Hinata's amazing wipe as he walk you back to where the managers are sleeping. "Thanks for helping them train, Tetsu. I know Kei could be a little cold and salty but he's a nice kid and Shoyo is the sweetest, I really hope I'll witness the battle of the garbage dumpster. Good luck to both our teams." you smiled as you stopped in front of the room where you guys are sleeping.

Kuro nods and slightly pinch your cheeks, "Hmm, we'll do our best to make it happen." he said with the sweetest smile, when he let go of your cheeks you bit your lower lip as you shifted your weight from foot to foot while silence ruled between the two of you.

Kuro decided to break the silence with a low chuckle, "I should go…" he whispered but you held his wrist and he looked at you, waiting for you to talk but you just smiled before you tip-toed and kissed his cheek.

"Goodnight Tetsu." you told him before you entered the room, silently waving goodbye while Kuro stood at the exact place obviously frozen.

(This will be written in Nishinoya's Point Of View, I've been waiting for this moment to write this and I think this is the right time.)

I honestly forgot when it started, perhaps it's been going on before I was even aware of what it was. All I know was that it's always been her.

Most of the people around me would often tell me how huge my presence is despite of my height, but I don't feel like that especially if there's obviously one person who couldn't see me despite of my "strong presence" all these years.

“Yuu! Are you paying attention to me?”

When I jerked out of my thoughts I realized that she was sitting across from me, and her brows were furrowed as she rant on how I was not listening to all the things she was saying, if she only knew.

All the words she says is etched on my mind and heart right away, that's how huge Y/N L/N's impact in my life. All my life I think I've known her, it's technically how it was, we've known each other for so long to the point that sometimes we knew each other more than we know ourselves.

As I take a look at her right now, all I could see was how the sunlight was emphasizing her beauty underneath its rays. She had a lot of guys crushing on him but none could make a move because of me.

They all thought we were dating, probably because sometimes that's how it looks like. We go to school together, with me carrying her bag, we'll be going to the club and at the end of the day we'll go home together as well.

I wish that was how we were.

Just as I was thinking of finally telling her what I feel, he came.

The moment I saw her watching Kuro Tetsuro of Nekoma closely, I knew that the years I had by her side wouldn't mean anything now that he's here. And I'm not a fool not to notice that he was into her as well.

I kept going and told myself that if it's for her happiness, I'll be fine, I thought that if I'll bury thesw feelings and prioritize her happiness over mine it won't hurt as much but I was so damn wrong.

That night where I saw them hugging each other as she admitted her feelings, I felt so small. A lot of questions formed inside of my head as they held each other while I watch in the sidelines.

If we hadn't met him, I wonder if she would have been mine, if I was fast enough to tell her what I feel where would it bring us?

I've been moving on and as much as it pains me to distance myself from her I ain't got a choice but when she cried when I wasn't talking to her I actually hoped that maybe I had a chance but just like before I was wrong.

It was crystal clear, she likes him so much. Her smiles when she's with him was way different when she's with me, she gets all flustered when Kuro is around and she's always searching for him around the court.

I love her more than she could ever imagine, I love her everyday, I love her even before I know what it means and I love everything about her.

I'm hiding in the dark as I watch her stand on her tiptoes just to kiss him on his cheek and that was the moment I knew that I had to let her go.

I knew I have to let go even if she is the most beautiful dream of mine.

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 6/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: won't say much but i will say that i love tits and cats but i love reblogs, screaming in the tags and asks a whole lot more babes. if u like this i would love any of the former, but mostly the latter xo hope u all enjoy this chapter!!! cw for smut fam (hwfg!!)

last chapter: February- Valentine's Day saw Tayce and A'whora's cover blown as they were interrupted by Ellie and Lawrence.

this chapter: April- a lot has happened since last month, and at Lawrence’s friend’s flat party A’whora struggles with her feelings for Tayce. The trouble is, neither of them have ever been any good at sticking to the rules.

***

In front of the wooden tenement door with the music and voices muffled behind it, A’whora watches as Ellie frowns, tugs at the hemline of her green snakeskin-patterned skirt.

“Is this too short?”

“ No , Ellie,” A’whora, Tayce and Tia all groan at her in sync before giggling at the absurdity of their unison. She catches Tayce’s eye for a second before smiling bashfully and looking at the floor, electing to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. She wordlessly orders her heart to calm down, to stop doing backflips the way it’s doing right now. A reaction like that is much too selfish, against everything they said they would be going forward.

“Ain’t short enough,” Bimini shrugs blithely, hitching the top of their own hotpants up as if to make a point but only succeeding to rip their fishnets on one of their chunky rings. “Shit.”

“Were they new?” Tayce asks.

“Yeah. A whole two quid out of Primark.”

“How is your bank account ever gonny recover?” Lawrence dramatises, clutching at her heart as Bimini sticks their tongue out at her good-humouredly. As the others snort at Lawrence’s joke, Lawrence herself turns to Ellie and pats her arm. “It’s not too anything, you look great.”

A’whora doesn’t miss the way Ellie flushes red as she thanks her friend, and in spite of herself she finds herself trying to hide a smile. If she can’t be happy, at least one of her friends looks like she’s on her way to figuring her own feelings out soon enough. A’whora just hopes it’ll all have a better ending than her own love story seems to have had.

“Have we definitely got the right flat, Lawrence? You’ve not just brought us to some randomer’s party by accident?” Tia agonises as she rubs her arms, self-conscious and cold. April’s blessed them with some sporadic day-long heatwaves but tonight hasn’t been as kind; the walk over to Lawrence’s friend’s flat party had been chilly, and they’d all needed their jackets.

A’whora supposes the temperature suits her situation.

Embittered by the cold and her self-pity, A’whora rolls her eyes. “It’s not 2010 anymore, Tia, nobody says randomers .”

“Well I do,” Tia shrugs lightly, and before A’whora can begin to bicker with her Lawrence huffs a sigh of exasperation.

“It’s the right flat, awrite?! I have been here before, you know. She’ll answer any second. Could yous all just stop the arguing and pretend to be normal human beings for once in your lives?”

A’whora raises her eyebrows pointedly. “A feat that’s going to be harder for some of us than others…”

As both Lawrence and Tia whip their heads round to scold her, the front door opens to reveal a tall girl with full lips, striking hazel eyes and a thick head of candyfloss pink hair that tumbles down over her shoulders and the straps of the tight black bodysuit she’s wearing. She’s gorgeous, and A’whora is immediately intimidated. Her eyes dart to Tayce in a small panic, trying to gauge her reaction, but she’s distracted by Lawrence’s “WAHEY!” and the girl’s excited squeal as they pull each other into a hug.

“Lads, this is Rosé, Rosé, lads!” Lawrence gestures at her flatmates flippantly, and A’whora waves a hand in an awkward hello much like the rest of the others. Lawrence turns her attention back to her friend with an apologetic grimace. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing them, babes. I know you said bring people if they’re cool, but I don’t actually know any cool people, so…”

A’whora holds back a snort as she watches Tayce’s face screw up in involuntary offence. Rosé, for her part, just laughs and ushers them all in warmly.

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s fine! Come in, baby, let’s get you and your friends sat down and you can introduce me properly, m’kay?”

Once they’ve hung up their jackets Rosé leads the six of them through a crowded hallway, forgoes the thump of the bass and the packed space of bodies all crammed together in the kitchen and instead chooses a quieter room. The multiple sofas, stained coffee table and mismatched chairs suggest it’s a living room of sorts. There’s already people on the couches but Rosé simply bats them away as if they’re flies, irritation on her face.

“Move, my friends are sitting here,” she says simply, before the others grunt and slink off like foxes, tails between their legs. Rosé pats the now-empty seats, pulling a face. “Sorry about them. They’re just girls we hung out with last year before we realised what they were actually like. Freshers friendships, y’know? Nobody really wants them to be here, but Jan insisted we had to invite them so things weren’t awkward.”

“Ever the diplomat, oor Janette,” Lawrence smiles with understanding, throwing herself down beside her friend comfortably. Ellie quickly sits beside her on the other spare space, prompting A’whora to take the other sofa that’s left.

(To her surprise, Tayce sits beside her. Not close, though. A’whora doesn’t know what she expected.)

It leaves Tia and Bimini to take the other smaller couch, and as they sit Rosé stays true to her word and introduces herself to everyone, making an effort to learn their names and appearing genuinely pleased to meet them all (although that could just be a result of the bottle she’s drinking from). When she gets to Ellie her face grows scheming, and A’whora doesn’t miss the way she digs Lawrence in the ribs.

“So you’re Ellie! I’ve heard so much about you from Lawrence,” Rosé purrs, earning a glare from her friend and a laugh from Ellie.

“Fuck’s sake, I bet you have. All horror stories, I’m sure.”

“Oh no, quite the opposite,” Rosé smiles smugly, then flinches suddenly with a hiss. It doesn’t take Poirot to figure out that Lawrence is the cause.

“SO, Rosé! Where the fuck is your girlfriend anyway? Don’t tell me she’s left you,” Lawrence says, too-quickly and too-loudly.

“Shut up. Last time I saw her she was in the kitchen talking to one of her graduate friends,” Rosé pouts faux-dejectedly. “Think it’s a girl who studied fashion design so they were in the same faculty and knew each other for a bit.”

A’whora perks up. “Oh, we’d get on then, I think. I’m studying fashion design too, and Ellie does costume.”

“I’ll get Jan to introduce you!” Rosé smiles enthusiastically, before continuing with the conversation. “Plus I totally didn’t realise she was flatmates with Nina, who was in the MT society with us last year! Small world, huh?”

“Oh my God! You guys did MT?” Tia squeals excitedly. A’whora presses her lips together to stop herself from saying anything; trust Tia to be completely unable to play things cool. “I’m in it this year! How come we haven’t met before?”

Rosé giggles, covers her mouth with her hand. “We didn’t audition this year. Not to be rude, but we wanted to give everyone else a fighting chance, you know? We’ve got a slot in the Jazz Bar with our friend every Tuesday now instead.”

Tia’s face drops like she’s been slapped, and A’whora can’t help the way her eyebrows fly up her forehead. As she looks to Tayce, though, she’s disheartened. Usually Tayce would chime in with a little whoop in response to the shady comment, throw herself right into the conversation, be the complete life and soul of the party. Instead she’s muted, quiet, practically a wallflower in comparison. A’whora knows this isn’t like her. The guilt eats her up as she knows it’s somehow her fault, but still she can’t work out exactly why.

“Kandace!” Rosé suddenly yells out into the hall, startling A’whora somewhat. “Where’s my girlfriend, mama?”

Just then a girl enters the room, her dark hair in thick braids which she flips over her shoulder dramatically. “Well damn, bitch, I never took her! Would know better than to do so, you would come at me with a big...pizza cutter or some shit. She prolly in the kitchen drinking all the punch.”

“There’s punch?” Ellie pipes up, Tia’s wide eyes and anticipative smile matching her excitement.

“Damn right there’s punch, what sort of party d’you think this is? Amateurs. C’mon, I’ll show you both. You can introduce yourselves on the way,” the girl shrugs with the efficient energy of an infant teacher.

“Oh, I like you already,” Ellie smiles as she springs up from the sofa, and A’whora doesn’t miss the crestfallen look that takes over Lawrence’s face in response to Ellie's departure.

“Rosé, if I find Jan I’ll send her through,” the girl yells from over her shoulder, as the three of them leave the room. Rosé immediately turns to Lawrence as Ellie leaves, whispers something like ‘ so when are you gonna tell her?’ before she’s hastily shushed by her friend.

A’whora always has to remind herself she’s not meant to know about Lawrence’s crush on Ellie. She only knows because Tayce told her. Tayce doesn’t really tell her things these days, not in the same way she used to. Their chats used to be deep and meaningful, shared over a glass of wine in a dimly-lit bar or in bed pressed close together and wrapped around each other like vines. Now it’s flippant inquiries into how each others’ day was that neither of them care about the answer to, the question only serving as a box-ticking exercise to maintain the illusion of friendship.

That’s what they said they’d be. So why does this friendship feel so different to the one they had before?

Well. A’whora knows why.

She’d thought this situation would be perfect- Lawrence had been invited to Rosé’s pre-exam-season flat party, and of course had in turn invited the whole flat too- and A’whora had assumed that it would be the perfect opportunity to get everything back on track with Tayce, a little bit of alcohol giving them the gentle nudge in the right direction that they needed to mend whatever had snapped between them. But as Tayce sips one of the cans of cider she’s brought with her, she only smiles at Rosé politely and laughs half-heartedly at Lawrence’s jokes.

It’s been weeks since that day in March and A’whora’s still trying to figure out what exactly happened. It’s strange for something to be over before it ever really had a chance to begin.

Her thoughts are ruptured by the arrival of two more people: a boy with black hair, an earring and a black denim jacket and a girl with tumbling straight blonde hair and warm brown eyes. She’s got a pink sash that’s squint and falling off her shoulder, and a huge pink birthday badge pinned to her purple dress. When she walks in, Rosé’s whole face lights up.

A’whora tries to remember if Tayce’s face ever did that when she came into a room.

“There’s my baby!” Rosé beams, holds out her arms for a hug. The girl instead elects to tumble down onto her lap, and the two of them giggle like Care Bears.

Fleetingly, A’whora hates them.

“Oh, fuck me, right?” the boy fakes offence, before Rosé rolls her eyes and pats the space beside her where Lawrence has scooted up.

“You know damn well I was referring to you,” she addresses him, before turning to her girlfriend once more. “Jan, Mik, these are Lawrence’s flatmates!”

“Oh my God, adorbs! Lil’ fresher babies,” the boy says, with a vocal fry to rival that of a Valley girl. A’whora knows he doesn’t mean to be patronising, but her back’s put up all the same.

She’s probably just in a bad mood over Tayce.

“I hope it’s okay I brought them,” Lawrence says, apologising for their very presence for the second time that evening.

“Hey, the more people here to get drunk and forget about the overwhelming stress of deadline season, the better,” the girl shrugs cheerfully, then waves to nobody in particular. “Nice to meet you all! I’m Jan, that’s Mik. Can I learn names? Pronouns if you want to as well?”

Lawrence slaps her thigh decisively. “Crackin’ idea, I’ll start. I’m Lawrence and my pronouns are she/her, or fat/bastard.”

The room is filled with hysterical laughter that immediately breaks any ice that had been present between the freshers and the second year students. As they all introduce themselves politely, A’whora doesn’t fail to notice the way Mik’s eyes light up when Bimini introduces themself.

“Hey, do you know if they’re single?” Mik asks Lawrence, tipsy and sloppy and in a whisper that isn’t really a whisper. A’whora can’t help but laugh as she watches Bimini blush from their position on the sofa and smile over at Mik, flattered.

“Sorry to disappoint, babes, but I’m taken.”

It’s with Bimini’s words that Lawrence gives a yell of surprise and A’whora’s jaw drops open in shock. She can’t help the way she immediately looks wide-eyed at Tayce, and her heart jumps a hurdle when she sees her looking in her direction with much the same expression. Tayce’s shock at the secret Bimini’s kept from them prompts her to lurch forward on the sofa and give a cry of surprise.

“Ex-squeeze me, Bimini Bon Boulash?! Since bloody when ?!”

Bimini shrugs, clearly bashful. “Made things official with Asttina late on last month. Ain’t a big deal.”

“And when were you going to tell us this exactly? Were you gonna leave it in your last will and testament or something?!” A’whora cries, heart jarring at the laugh her words earn from Tayce.

Bimini stretches in their own catlike way, unbothered and laid back to an almost horizontal extent. “Well, you never asked.”

“What the hell?! This is big. C’mon Rory,” Tayce suddenly turns to A’whora and clutches at her hand frantically, and in doing so sends a thousand sparks flying between them. As A’whora’s pulse leaps, Tayce does the same off the sofa. “We need to go find the others. You ain’t getting away with just the three of us on this interrogation squad, Mx Bimini!”

“Alright, Line of effin’ Duty,” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly, and A’whora allows Tayce to drag her up off the sofa and through to the hall.

Tayce is giggling as she’s weaving them both through the crowd, and for a moment it’s like nothing has ever changed between them. A’whora’s not been keeping track of how many cans Tayce has had so far but she herself has only had three (two at pres, one here so far), so she’s not attributing that to the sudden personality transplant. She’s trying not to overthink it too much but this is the most authentic interaction she’s had with Tayce for a while, and it’s silly, but it’s hard to believe it’s not too good to be true.

For a moment, she’s almost glad Bimini didn’t tell them about Asttina if it meant she and Tayce could bond like this.

“Can you bloody believe it?!” Tayce squeaks at her as they reach the kitchen and, in turn, the punch bowl. Tayce wrenches two red cups from the stack beside it and fills them up with the ambiguous orange liquid that’s inside, pouring it sloppily and messily from the ladle. “I mean they’re meant to be our bloody friend! And then they don’t even tell us about the breaking news in their own love life! What goes on!”

“To be fair…” A’whora begins without thinking, then snaps her mouth closed as her heart shudders in her chest. She’d been about to say we kept us a secret from them too but she can’t bring that up now, send them crashing back down to earth and into the broken, uncomfortable bed they’ve somehow made. So she smiles tightly at Tayce who’s looking at her expectantly, takes the cup she’s holding out to her as she finishes her sentence. “...Bim’s always been a pretty private person.”

Tayce shrugs and holds the cup to her lips before she raises her eyebrows, takes it away and holds it out in the middle between them. “Cheers, slag.”

Silly and overeager, A’whora crashes their cups together then takes a too-big swig. The punch fills her mouth like poison and she feels her eyes grow wide as she swallows and then gags, Tayce doubling over laughing at her reaction.

“What the fuck is in that?!” she cries with horror, looking at the cup with incredulity as Tayce continues to laugh at her expense.

“It’s called punch for a reason, girl! It ain’t some fruity dilutey Slug and Lettuce pornstar martini tree we’re talking about here!”

“Punch is right. Feel like I’ve been punched in the fucking stomach,” A’whora screws her face up. Tayce’s face lights up and her hand rests on A’whora’s arm as she launches into a story excitedly.

“Oh my God. D’you remember that time we made punch back near freshers week and Lawrence added that thing to it...fuck, what was it called?! She kept calling it ‘wreck the hoose juice’.”

“Buckfast!” A’whora remembers with glee, trying not to grow too animated because if she moves she might scare Tayce away like she’s some sort of rare bird. This is the closest she’s been to Tayce in every sense for quite a while, and the moment is so magical that she’s determined not to let it slip away.

“That was it! And then the next day we were all so ill we were like...convinced we’d been spiked! But it was just that bloody Buckfast!”

As the pair of them giggle, A’whora starts laughing harder as she remembers what Tayce had said.

“Sorry, but hearing the words ‘wreck the hoose juice’ in a Welsh accent is probably the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

Tayce removes her hand from her arm only to slap her on it. “Oh, because the same thing in a Worksop accent is so much better!”

“We should get Ellie to say it. She's Scottish, it'll sound the same as when Lawrence says it,” A’whora says, then scans her gaze around the room and narrows her eyes. “Where the hell is she, anyway? We still need to tell her and Tia about Bim.”

The roar of a countdown from ten down to one on the other side of the kitchen prompts both her and Tayce’s gazes to wrench in its direction, only for their eyes to fall on Tia glugging a horrific-looking brown concoction out of a pint glass and Ellie yelling descending numbers at her, along with Rosé’s flatmate they’d disappeared with and a crowd of strangers.

“Of course,” Tayce deadpans, earning a snort from A’whora. Just then, A'whora remembers some chat Ellie had told her while they were getting ready, and she turns to tell Tayce without thinking. It's just natural to tell Tayce these sorts of things by now, and she's missed doing so.

“You know Ellie told me earlier she’s gonna like...see what happens with Lawrence tonight?” A’whora relays to Tayce eagerly, before she forgets that Tayce had sworn her to secrecy about the whole thing and her mouth snaps shut. It’s too late though, because Tayce is fixing her with a single raised eyebrow and a smirk which shouldn’t make A’whora’s stomach flip over like it does.

Friends, friends, friends.

“God, wonder how come Ellie’s suddenly over Tia and open to Lawrence?” she teases her, and A’whora groans apologetically.

“Look, I know you said not to tell anyone but it was the day they had that row in the flat,” she explains, belatedly and awkwardly realising that it had been the same day that she and Tayce had had that conversation and everything had changed between them. A’whora tries to shake the feeling of regret as she carries on. “Ellie was saying how Lawrence didn’t care about her and all that and it...well, it just came out. I had to shut her up somehow.”

Tayce shakes her head and laughs, toeing the line between long-suffering and affectionate. When she takes A’whora’s hand and squeezes it the line is crossed, and a thousand fireworks go off in her bloodstream. Tayce's eyes are soft as she looks at her and it only makes A’whora’s heart hurt.

“My fault, really. Should’ve known you can’t keep a secret to save yourself.”

“Kept us a secret for long enough,” A’whora says before she can stop herself. She feels like slapping a hand over her mouth, a flimsy gesture illustrating her mistake, and from the way Tayce lets go of her hand and looks to the floor it seems she regrets it just as much as A’whora does.

Fuck.

When Tayce snaps her head back up there’s a smile on her face that A’whora knows is fake, and she sets her cup down on the counter as she looks back over at Ellie and Tia. “Right! You wait here and guard the punch. I’ll drag those two hounds over and we can give them the goss.”

A’whora nods as she takes her turn to look to the floor, and suddenly Tayce is off in the direction of their other flatmates and all she can do is sit and stew in her embarrassment and regret at having said the wrong thing yet-a-fucking-gain.

Ellie has told A’whora countless times to just talk to her! and that if you just sit and chat things through everything will be fixed! but it’s been things A’whora’s said that’s somehow got them into this mess, even though she still doesn’t really know what specifically it was that made Tayce make the decision to stop it all, to stop falling asleep together and waking up together and going on dates (because they were dates, and that’s the hill A’whora will die on) and talking to each other like they’d known each other for eight years and not eight months.

When she thinks about the ways she misses Tayce, the sex isn’t even the first thing that comes to mind. That’s how she knows she was in deep. Well, still is. But A’whora would be lying if she said she didn’t still think about Tayce when her hands are between her thighs, has to stop the memories that flood her head when she's in the shower, moans just that little bit too loudly when she uses her vibrator in the pathetic hope that Tayce will hear her through the wall.

She supposes there’s a ridiculous part of her that misses the intimacy and the closeness most of all.

“Aurora!”

A’whora’s dragged out of her thoughts and turns around to see Jan standing beside a tall blonde in a tight red dress. Even though her mind is still entirely preoccupied by Tayce, her mouth goes a little dry and her heart skips a beat because...well, she still knows an attractive girl when she sees one. She fixes the two girls with a polite smile as Jan gestures at the girl beside her.

“This is Brooke Lynn! She’s my friend from the design faculty that did fashion? Rosé was saying you wanted introduced.”

A’whora feels her cheeks flush red as Brooke cocks an eyebrow at her and smirks. “Truthfully, I’m flattered. Always happy to meet a fan.”

A’whora shakes her head and gives an embarrassed laugh. “That’s not...I mean-”

“I’m just fucking with you. Nice to meet you,” Brooke smiles lazily, leaning against the countertop as Jan slips away. “So Jan was saying you’re studying design too?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s hell on earth just now, especially with deadline season coming up. But I do actually really enjoy it most of the time,” A’whora replies politely.

Brooke laughs in fond recollection. “God, I don’t miss that. Portfolios were a bitch.”

“Right!” A’whora agrees enthusiastically. “It’s quite nice, though, because lots of my flatmates are at the art school as well, so we kind of all have that shared bond of going through the shit together. Lawrence does textiles, Ellie does costume and Tayce does fine art. In fact, that’s Ellie and Tayce over there.”

A’whora turns to point to where Tayce has found Ellie, although she’s perturbed to see the two of them already looking their way. Ellie’s eyes widen as she gives them an awkward wave and Tayce immediately looks elsewhere, her entire body language shifty as if she’s been caught out.

A’whora’s pulse starts to race all over again. Is she…? No.

But then she thinks about that night in December when they first kissed, how A’whora had been driven so crazy by Tayce talking to so many other girls that she was basically forced to show her hand and her feelings. She knows they said they’d be friends, but this situation is being handed to her on a plate and she’d be an idiot to turn it down.

So A’whora flips some of her hair over her shoulder and exposes her neck as she tilts her head with interest. “So, Rosé was saying you graduated last year?”

She and Brooke Lynn talk for a while; A’whora doesn’t know if it’s five minutes or twenty, but with every passing minute she steps up the flirting just a little tiny bit more, so that it’s nearly imperceptible to any onlookers. Tayce is different though, because she’s not just any onlooker. To anyone else it just looks like two strangers getting to know each other at a party, but A’whora knows Tayce sees every time she tucks her hair behind her ears, every time she giggles behind her hands, every time she nods eagerly at whatever Brooke is saying.

She can feel Tayce’s eyes on her, and A’whora would be lying if she said it didn’t make her stomach flip over all the more.

She’s not getting much from Brooke, though: not much of a reaction, not much reciprocation, not much anything. So the moment she steps things up a bit and touches her lightly on the arm as she laughs at a joke she’s made, A’whora’s sure it’ll get her somewhere. Only Brooke pulls a face, moves her arm away and apologises.

“God, I’m sorry...you’re sweet, but I’ve actually got a girlfriend,” she explains, and A’whora feels herself blush, embarrassed at having been spurned but also that it was all in full view of Tayce. It’s made even worse by the way Brooke’s face lights up as her eyes fall on someone over A’whora’s shoulder. “In fact, here she is now! Hey, baby.”

Another girl appears from behind her and moves to stand beside Brooke, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. She’s small and pretty and hostile, and A’whora is suddenly regretting the entire making-Tayce-jealous endeavour if she’s about to get grief from Brooke’s girlfriend.

“And who the fuck is this bitch?” the girl says by way of an introduction, not so much a question but a demand.

“Vanessa…” Brooke looks at her warningly, but the girl continues regardless.

“Nah, I just wanna know what business she thinks she has comin’ onto my girl like this?” she narrows her eyes at A’whora. A’whora, for her part, has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow her more.

This never happened to Tayce in December, that’s for fucking sure.

“Honestly, babes, we were just talking. She’s just told me she’s taken, I would never have tried anything if I’d known,” she tries to explain, but judging from how the girl reacts she’s only made the situation worse.

“Babes? I ain’t your babe, Milkybar-Kid-lookin’ ass!” she cries, and A’whora feels her eyes darting to the punch bowl beside her, suddenly terrified that the liquid inside it could be used as a potential weapon. “Bet your damn life she’s taken, bitch!”

A’whora’s weighing up the options of apologising more or escalating this into a full-scale brawl (because really, who the fuck does this girl think she’s talking to?) when she feels a hand slip into the crook of her elbow and tug her away from the kitchen, the pint-pot Conor McGregor still yelling at her as she leaves.

“Okay, home time,” Tayce’s voice says, amusement coating her words and only serving to make A’whora feel worse. As she turns to look at her she sees Ellie on her other side, who ducks into the living room as Tayce picks up their jackets from the hooks in the hall.

“Tia wants to stay and keep drinking, think she’s found some of her MT friends here,” Tayce explains, handing A’whora her coat with a little smile. “Ellie’s gone to get Lawrence and Bim. What the bloody hell was that, girl?”

A’whora rolls her eyes petulantly, annoyed that her plan hadn’t exactly been as successful as she’d hoped. “Well, you know what they say. The hot ones are always taken.”

“Not always,” Tayce shrugs at her, a little twinkle in her eye as Ellie reappears with Lawrence on her arm.

“Bim’s gonny stay and look after Tia. They’re staying at Asttina’s tonight, anyway, so they can drop Tia off at ours or Veronica's depending on what she wants to do,” Lawrence explains, only a little unsteady on her feet. “Anyway, what’s this I’m hearing about A’whora being a homewrecker?”

As they leave the party, A’whora reluctantly tells the story and the three of them all laugh and joke in response. If she’s being honest, Tayce finding the whole thing funny isn’t the worst thing to come out of the whole situation. She’s not annoyed or ignoring her, and at least that’s some form of progress, as ridiculous as it seems.

The four of them walk home full of tipsy, carefree joy, Lawrence’s voice bouncing off the buildings in the streets as she sings Rain On Me and the others all join in with Ariana’s whistle tones. They fill the air with their horrendous, off-key yelling and no doubt awaken everyone who’s unfortunate enough to own a flat on the main road, but none of them care.

Lawrence and Ellie’s arms are still linked, the pair of them leaning into each other as they walk, but Tayce hasn’t afforded A’whora the same affection. Which is fine. They’re not what they were now, whatever the hell they had been. They’re friends, but A’whora isn’t sure that label is meant to make it feel as if a broken shard of glass is getting jammed through her heart every time she uses it.

It’s fine.

Their hands still brush against each other every so often as they walk, though, ghosts of moments when they’d hold hands in bed and Tayce would trace around her fingers silently and intimately. The sporadic contact only seems to amplify the electricity that’s already so present in the atmosphere. A’whora thinks back to the party, talking in the kitchen with the girl who was Tayce’s opposite in every way. She doesn’t know if she’s being deluded when she thinks about Tayce being jealous. She hopes she was, though. Really it’s not like she has any right to be; A’whora can do what she wants with who she wants, and if Tayce wanted her to herself then she should have…

Well. A’whora knows what she should’ve done.

If it hadn’t been for Brooke’s tiny pitbull girlfriend coming in and yelling the place down, A’whora would’ve probably tried to kiss her. Not that she wanted to kiss her. Not that she was even really hugely attracted to her like she is to Tayce. But she’s intoxicated by the idea of Tayce watching her kiss someone else and burning up with regret and hurt, wishing it was her in Brooke’s place. But Tayce clearly hasn’t been bothered by the whole thing, A’whora thinks, as they laugh and quote lines from Tracey Beaker at each other while they walk. She’s not acting as if she’s annoyed at A’whora. She’s acting as if...well, as if they’re friends.

Which is what they agreed. A’whora doesn’t know why she expected anything different.

It takes the four of them five goes at inputting the code on the door to their block, yelling in delight when A’whora manages it and then frantically shushing each other as they ascend the echoey stairwell. It’s Tayce who unlocks the door to their flat and they all stumble in, still giggly and laughing.

“Kitchen afterparty?” Tayce suggests as soon as she’s over the threshold. A’whora’s ready to agree. Pathetically, after everything that’s happened, she’d still always agree to more time with Tayce.

Ellie shakes her head though, and as she pushes the door to her own bedroom open Lawrence moves to linger in its doorway too. “Nah. Too tired. You two have fun though.”

“Speaking of you two having fun,” A’whora jokes, pointing her finger at the two girls and wiggling her eyebrows. She dissolves into giggles as Ellie rolls her eyes and Lawrence’s face turns bright pink, happy she’s managed to get her own back for the endless teasing she and Tayce had to go through at the hands of their flatmates.

“Shut up. We’re gonna watch High School Musical 3, Lawrence hasn’t seen it,” Ellie explains, a look passing between the two girls that A’whora’s endlessly suspicious of.

“Oh, I haven’t seen that either! Can I join?” Tayce says lightly, A’whora smirking at her and seeing the twinkle in her eyes as she realises exactly what she’s trying to do. The question gets the desired reaction: Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and Lawrence’s jaw drops as she tries to think of an explanation as to why Tayce can’t join in their impromptu, cosy movie night.

Tayce puts them out of their misery a second later. “You know what actually, I think I’ll just head to bed too after all.”

The visible relief on the two girls’ faces makes A’whora stifle a laugh, and as they all say goodnight she catches sight of Ellie taking Lawrence’s hand as the door closes. A’whora’s eyes meet Tayce’s as they’re left on their own, both girls laughing softly at the situation.

“Cute. Good for them,” Tayce smiles gently, before looking at the floor bashfully. “You down, then? Kitchen afterparty?”

A’whora’s stomach twists awkwardly. As tempted as she is and as much as she wants to, she feels as if more alcohol would make the current situation worse, and if they’re going to try to be friends then they need to commit to it. So she shakes her head, watches as something shuts down behind Tayce’s eyes. “I’m gonna get some water and then head to bed. Sorry.”

“Water seems like a good idea,” Tayce shrugs, and as A’whora peels off down the corridor towards their kitchen Tayce follows behind her.

Neither of them bother to turn the light on when they get to the kitchen- filling up a glass and taking a few quick sips doesn’t take a long time- and the light from the hall paired with the glow through the window from the streetlamps outside is just enough to ensure A’whora can see what she’s doing as she takes a glass out of the cupboard overhead and fills it up, glugging at it quickly. She can feel Tayce waiting at the sink behind her, but doesn’t turn to make eye contact. The silence is tense and deafening and awkward. Friendship no longer suits them.

So when A’whora turns around from the sink and Tayce is closer to her than she thought with a sparkle in her eyes, she is immediately struck down with all the feelings she’s tried to suppress. Tayce boxes her in, one hand on the edge of the countertop at either side of her, and as she leans in she’s got a little smirk on her face.

“Tayce, wh-”

“Shhh,” Tayce whispers, before leaning in and kissing her, slow and gentle but with an underlying intensity that makes a heat pool in the pit of A’whora’s stomach. She becomes so caught up in the moment that she almost forgets about everything they’d said, everything they vowed they’d stop doing.

So A’whora pulls away, but the needy whine Tayce gives and the way she moves her hands to rest at her waist makes her have second thoughts. She smiles a little, cocks her head to mock her just a tiny bit. “We said we weren’t doing this again.”

Tayce gives another whine, pushes one of her hands a little higher to rest at A’whora’s ribcage. “I know, it’s a really bad idea.”

Tayce drops her head to rest on A’whora’s shoulder, presses light kisses to her neck that are too much and not enough all at once. A’whora hears herself gasp into the kitchen, already equal parts frustrated and desperate.

“You should probably stop kissing my neck, then,” she breathes out, hissing as Tayce’s lips hit a sensitive spot that doesn’t make the situation any better at all.

“You should probably stop acting like you like it so much,” Tayce smiles against her skin, punctuating her sentence with another kiss before adding, “Or else I wouldn’t do it.”

“Yeah, it’s all my fault, isn’t it?" A’whora giggles, looking to the ceiling in exasperation as she already knows how this is going to end.

It’s fun to let Tayce work for it a little, though.

“All your fault, you bad girl,” Tayce murmurs, pulling away from A’whora’s neck and instead keeping her eyes trained on her as she runs her hands up the sides of her thighs and under her skirt. If Tayce is looking for a reaction then she’s got one, because the feeling of Tayce’s fingers against her skin is filling A’whora’s head with all sorts of memories that’re making it even harder to stick to the rules they both set.

“You looked so good tonight,” Tayce murmurs, her eyes cast down to the floor. The praise makes A’whora’s heart race twenty times harder than it already is. She pouts, brings her own hands to rest at Tayce’s hips.

“I was so pretty, wasn’t I?" she teases, not missing the way Tayce’s eyes flutter closed at her words. She decides to twist the knife a little. “Bet you’re so gutted I wasn’t picking my whole outfit out thinking about you. You can’t stand to see me talking to other girls, that’s why you need to corner me in the kitchen to get a reaction, right?”

“Worked though, didn't it?” Tayce smirks, running one finger along the edge of her underwear and sending a shiver down A’whora’s spine. She’s so determined not to let Tayce win whatever game they’re playing though so she takes one hand off her waist, reaches behind her for the glass of water she’d poured that’s still half full.

“Hasn’t worked yet, we’re just talking,” A’whora smiles smugly, sipping from the glass whilst looking Tayce dead in the eye. She gets met with an equally challenging look, one that makes her squeeze her thighs together.

“Yeah, we didn’t make rules against talking,” Tayce says, bringing one of her hands up to brush a little piece of hair out of A’whora’s face and tuck it behind her ear. The contact makes A’whora’s whole body tingle as Tayce continues speaking. “Didn’t make rules against me telling you how much I want to fuck you against this counter and watch you have to try and be quiet.”

“Tayce!” A’whora laughs in shock, at once annoyed and turned on by the smirk that appears on Tayce’s face. She brings her arms up to circle around Tayce’s neck, pulls her a little closer so they’re pressed up against each other.

“Didn’t make rules against me telling you how all night I’ve been thinking about flipping that skirt up and touching you and feeling how wet you are,” Tayce mutters darkly, pushing her knee in between A’whora’s thighs as if to make her point. A’whora can only bite her lip to stop herself from giving a whimper of a response, because Tayce is busy reducing her to a puddle right in the middle of the kitchen and she can’t give her the satisfaction of appearing needier than she already is.

“Or how much I want to tell you exactly what a perfect angel you are while you’re riding my fingers and begging me for it-”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora sighs before Tayce’s lips cut her off and they’re kissing again, messy and hot and desperate and everything A’whora’s wanted for weeks. They can’t be friends when they’re so good like this, when they know just what the other likes and wants and needs, and A’whora needs Tayce so much.

Tayce pulls away only to murmur against A’whora’s lips. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

A’whora pulls back a little, taking a little breath of composure as she tries to form her words. “Want you to do all that. Everything you said.”

She can see she’s said the right thing from the way Tayce paws at her waist and slides a hand up the side of one of her thighs. She gives her a funny sort of smile. “Might need to beg me for it a little bit.”

A’whora pouts involuntarily at her words, moves a hand to cup Tayce’s jaw. “Shouldn’t have to beg when I know how much you want me.”

“Hmm. Sounds like something a spoiled brat would say,” Tayce smirks, leaning against her and pushing her thigh a little higher so that A’whora is pressed right up against it. When A’whora grinds down and Tayce’s eyes grow dark it sends a little thrill of delight down every single nerve ending in her body.

Tayce runs her tongue over her bottom lip before she whispers again. “If I didn’t want you like this so badly I’d take you over to those sofas and spank all this bad behaviour out of you.”

“Yeah, you want to watch me put my pretty little ass in the air for you, don’t you?” A’whora murmurs, squirming against Tayce’s thigh again. She can feel herself throb against her and it feels so good, fucking insanely good, but she hopes Tayce is going to give her what she wants sooner rather than later because she doesn’t want to end up coming just from this.

Tayce pulls her in for a kiss again, more frantic than the last, and as their lips crash together A’whora pushes her hands into Tayce’s hair, tugs on it in the hopes it’ll get a reaction out of her. Tayce gasps against her and it elicits a reaction in A’whora that’s so visceral that she bucks her hips again, the friction making her whine.

“Think you need to start begging or else you’re gonna come and I’m not even gonna get to touch you,” Tayce says as she pulls away, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows triumphantly when A’whora hisses out a fuck .

“Please, Tayce,” she swallows her pride and begs, her fingers playing lightly with the straps of Tayce’s top as she hears her hum in consideration.

“Not sure that’s quite enough begging for making me stand and watch you flirt with another girl at that party. Maybe I could just walk away and watch how you react to having nothing to fuck yourself against at all,” Tayce whispers as A’whora rides her thigh needily, but the tone to her voice tells A’whora she’s not anywhere near serious.

“You like watching me get all wound up way too much to do that.”

“I do,” Tayce leans in, rests her forehead against A’whora’s as she tugs her top up from where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt and skims her fingers against her bare skin. “I love watching you get exactly what you want, you look so pretty when you want to come. Hair all messed up and biting your lip like such a perfect little mess.”

A’whora feels her stomach flip over and the heat grow between her legs as she begins to get worn down. Her hands drop down to grab Tayce’s ass through her jeans, tries to pull her closer even though there's already hardly any distance between them. “Please, Tayce, want you so much.”

“Just wanna make my princess feel so good,” Tayce pouts mockingly, and it’s almost sinful enough to make A’whora disregard the “my” that Tayce drops in the middle of her sentence. It hurts A’whora’s feelings more than she’d care to admit, so as revenge she gives a self-indulgent shudder against Tayce’s thigh, lets out a moan that’s too loud and makes Tayce’s eyes grow wide.

“The girls are gonna hear,” Tayce warns her, leaning in for three short kisses which she clearly delights in pulling away from each time.

At this point A’whora thinks she’s being driven slowly insane and so she finally lets her pride crumble to the ground, well and truly demolished as she gives a desperate whine. “Fuck, please , baby, please, please, please, need you so much, please.”

Tayce smirks at her triumphantly and tilts her head. “There. That wasn't hard, was it?”

It’s then that A’whora breaks. As she loops her finger around the velvet choker Tayce is wearing and crashes their lips together again she only breaks the kiss to hop up onto the counter, spreading her legs wide and feeling a flutter of anticipation between them as Tayce immediately gets to work, gently trailing her fingers up the inside of her thighs and making A’whora’s mouth drop open. She tugs her lace underwear down so it’s sitting at her knees, rips her top and her bra off and brushes her fingers over her nipples, presses hot, wet open-mouthed kisses over what feels like every inch of bare skin. A’whora is such a panting, incoherent mess that she almost doesn’t notice that Tayce has stepped back a little. When she opens her eyes she can see her sweeping a long, slow glance down her body, her pupils blown and her jaw slack.

“You are a fucking miracle ,” she gasps in awe, and A’whora immediately feels herself growing shy, Tayce’s words making her feel more naked than the fact she’s sitting on their kitchen counter half-dressed. Tayce seems to grow a little reserved as well, maybe picking up on the reaction A’whora’s given her, and when she leans in to kiss her again it’s slow and languid in the same way that honey falls from a spoon.

There’s a pause in the kiss where Tayce hooks her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s underwear and pulls it off of her completely, leaving her free to trail her fingers up the soft skin on the inside of A’whora’s thigh and make her buck against thin air helplessly. Tayce fans her fingers against her thigh and lazily swipes a thumb over A’whora’s slit, the moan of relief A’whora lets out and the little gasp Tayce gives piercing through the quiet of the kitchen.

“So wet for me,” Tayce breathes out all at once, dropping her lips to her neck and kissing her. There’s a second where she bites and sucks at her skin, making A’whora gasp and giggle guiltily and squirm against her touch. Tayce’s lips are hot against her skin as she continues. “I would be on my fucking knees if I didn’t want to look at your gorgeous face the whole time.”

“Tayce, please,” A’whora begs, bouncing a little on the countertop as she desperately and wordlessly tries to get Tayce’s thumb to circle her clit. She suspects Tayce is being deliberate with the contact; she knows if she holds back then A’whora will just start begging her desperately like she did before.

The little smirk that appears on her face confirms her suspicions. “What is it, baby?”

A’whora grinds down but Tayce only flicks her thumb away, the frustration she feels and the way she’s practically aching in response turning Tayce’s little playful smile into a shit-eating grin. A’whora feels her bottom lip stick itself out and she whines needily. “You know what.”

“Aww. You not able to use your words any more, princess?” Tayce pouts mockingly back at her, and in response A’whora brings her hands up under the hem of Tayce’s top and skates her nails down her back. It seems to have the desired reaction as Tayce pulls her hand away for a second, A’whora subsequently drawing in a deep, shaky breath as she feels Tayce’s fingers slide deep inside her, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against her clit and leaving her feeling so overwhelmed that she tips her head forward to rest on Tayce’s shoulder.

“Fuck, so good,” she whispers, shuddery and breathy against Tayce's neck as she rides her fingers. Going from minimal teasing to having her every need met all at once is rendering her almost speechless but as she straightens up she finds she wants to keep talking if only to see the way Tayce blinks slowly and heavily as she collects herself, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she watches A’whora become more and more wound up. “So perfect, keep going...fuck…”

“God, I wish you could see what you look like right now,” Tayce hisses, curling her fingers and managing to hit a spot that makes A’whora squeeze her eyes shut and bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from squealing in ecstasy. She keeps her eyes closed as Tayce keeps talking to her, every word making her melt and only intensifying the waves of bliss that are racking her body. “You’re so beautiful, Aurora, oh my God, so, so, so gorgeous...perfect fucking angel…”

A’whora presses a frantic hand to Tayce’s jaw and pulls her in to kiss her again, but they’re unable to make it last all that long when they’re both breathing so heavily and A’whora is rocking so much against Tayce’s fingers it makes her momentarily wonder about how sturdy the countertops in their shithole of a flat actually are. It’s at the point now where A’whora is feeling so soaking wet and overstimulated that she can’t even form a single thought apart from just fuck , so how she manages to form a sentence Christ only knows.

“Missed getting me like this?”

“Like what, baby, a dripping wet desperate mess?” Tayce’s free hand grips her thigh just that little bit tighter in response. “Missed it so fucking much.”

Her words make A’whora shiver with lust, and something inside her curls like a tightly wound spring. She can feel her orgasm building with every passing second but there’s something different about how it usually feels; it’s all far more intense and all-consuming than normal as if every single one of her nerve endings are buzzing in anticipation. She’s completely incapable of speech now, only breathy little moans and needy whines as Tayce keeps whispering into her ear about how perfect she is, how pretty and gorgeous and beautiful, all the while fucking her gently and pulsing her fingers against that spot deep inside her and teasing her clit.

It’s because of her lack of words that A’whora can’t give Tayce much of a warning when suddenly her body seems to leap two levels at once and she’s so dangerously close that all she can do is urgently whisper Tayce’s name before her moans get increasingly louder and louder, her orgasm rips through her, and she swears she comes harder than she’s ever done before in her life. Everything is throbbing so violently that all A’whora can do is let out broken cries into the silent kitchen, completely unable to care about who could hear her. Her orgasm seems to last a few seconds longer than usual and it takes her by surprise, and her body is so racked from it that she needs a couple of seconds to compose herself. She breathes raggedly with her forehead against Tayce’s shoulder, and she can feel the other girl rubbing her back gently with her free hand.

It’s Tayce who speaks first, her voice humoured as she whispers quietly into the silence and slides her fingers out of her slowly and carefully. “Fuckin’ hell, girl. I could feel that.”

A’whora has to take two little breaths before she lifts her head off Tayce’s shoulder and replies with the only word she can form. “Shit.”

Tayce giggles, and it’s so endearing that A’whora feels her heart swell with affection and maybe a little something deeper. She’s barely got time to dwell on it before Tayce locks eyes with her, a little sparkle in them as she takes the same two fingers she’d fucked A’whora with seconds ago and wraps her lips around them, sucking them into her mouth before drawing them out and letting her eyes flutter closed. “You taste so good, fuck.”

At that point, A’whora could've just stayed silent. Or responded with something else. Or just pulled Tayce in for another kiss before returning the favour. But no- she has to ruin it by opening her mouth and saying the first thing that comes into her head, a stupid joke that’s only going to hurt her instead of make her laugh.

“I don’t think that’s something that friends do.”

Tayce’s expression falters and her palms come to rest on A’whora’s thighs. Her gaze is fixed on the floor and there's a small pause before she replies quietly. “Well maybe I don’t want to be friends.”

Every cell in A’whora’s body freezes up and she’s rendered almost motionless at Tayce’s response. She doesn’t even care about how desperate she comes across as she replies almost breathlessly. “What do you want, then?”

Tayce doesn’t meet her eyes. The seconds tick by. Her palms slip off A’whora’s thighs and come to rest at her sides.

“Tayce?”

Tayce takes a step back, casts her gaze to the ceiling this time. She seems to be looking everywhere but at her. A’whora watches her press her lips together, bring her arms up to wrap herself in a hug. The silence grows longer and more ominous, storm clouds hanging over the two of them that are heavy with rain.

And then it dawns on A’whora that what Tayce must be feeling is all-encompassing regret. She regrets it all. Everything she said, everything they just did. She’s dug herself into a hole that she can’t escape from.

So A’whora helps her out of it. The tears flood her eyes as she hops down from the kitchen counter, snatches up her clothes with her face burning from embarrassment, and her hot tears run down her face almost as fast as she dashes back to her room. She’s completely humiliated, and she’s not going to stick around to talk things out.

Tayce doesn’t yell after her, doesn’t come back down the corridor for her, doesn’t stand at her door and knock and ask to be let in. Instead there is only silence and darkness, and all A’whora can do is lie down on her bed and sob into her pillow, trying her hardest not to make a sound but wondering if she's failing even at that.

[aleksadnezz]

Sweet Night 3

Jae x Reader

I was sleeping peacefully when I heard a very loud knock on my door. I opened my lamp beside my bed and reached out my phone. It’s freaking 4am. I stood up and slipped on my slides. I heard another knock after another and another and another until I opened the door. I didn’t wait for my eyes to adjust because I already know who it is.

“What the fuck do you want?” I asked and rub my eyes.

“Good morning!”

"It’s fucking 4am.”

“That’s why I said good morning and not good afternoon.” I rolled my eyes. “You know it’s been a while..”

“Just say it.” I cut her off.

“Can you take care of my cat for a month?” She pointed the cage with a cat inside. I looked at her and she’s giving me a pleading eyes for me to say yes. Duh as if.

"Why"

“I have a business trip”

“When are you going to come back?” I asked. Her pout became a big smile.

“I don’t know yet, but it will be around July and august.”

“That sounds more than a month.” I put my other hand on my waist.

“Come on!! for me? For the nicest cousin you ever have.” She pouted again. This girl really think she’s cute when doing that.

“If it’s for your cat then I’ll be more than willing.” I smirked.

“Please.. for my cat.” I laughed. “Happy?” She asked and I nodded. Lucky her we’re allowed to have a pet inside our apartments cuz to sum it’s prohibited.

“Take care of my cat, okay? She eats 3 times a day, don’t missed one meal because I will definitely hire someone to pinch you.”

“You can hire someone to pinch me but can’t hire someone to take care of your cat?”

“Isn’t 4am? Where does all your sassy ass come from?” From you. My cousin Ashley is 3 years older than me but act as a 15-year-old school girl. I still have no idea why we’re the closest cousins. Prolly because we like to tease each other. I looked up to her and see her as a big sister even though she acts like that. She lives on the other city, close to mine and this girl don’t bother to see me. I mean I don’t bother to see her too so, I guess we’re even.

“Anyway, you can bath her twice a week or once a week, just make sure she’s clean. I have everything that she needs here in this bag.” She hands me a bag that looks like a bag for babies. This girl is so extra. I feel like I’m actually babysitting a kid.

“What if she ran out of cat food?” I asked her. I’m not going to buy a cat food using my money plus her cat might only eat those food in a can.

“Here.” She hand me a small envelope and it’s thick. Looks like her cat’s getting a one-year supply.

“Labor.” I transfer the envelope to my other hand and raised the other.

“It’s included already.” She slaps my hand down. “But if the money is not enough just call me.” I smile at her.

“I have to go, my flights at 6 and I still need to finish packing. Take care of my cat okay.” I nodded. “Anyway, I missed you.” She hugged me. She should have said that before I opened the door earlier. I hugged her back.

“I miss you too, you never visit me.”

“Sorry I got busy these days, but I will totally make it up after this trip.” She let go off me.

“Your treat?” I smiled and I saw her shakes her head. “Come on!”

“Fine.. so I have to go now, take care!” She walked away but then looked back just to send a flying kiss and I mouthed ‘Ew’ she laughed. I raised my hand and waved goodbye which she did the same.

I closed the door and locked it. I was standing for a minute trying to figure out what I’m missing. I feel like I forgot something. I heard a noise from outside my room. Shit. The cat. I left the cat outside. Damn I’m already failing as a catsitter. I quickly opened my door and before I even crouch down to pick up the cage the door in front of me suddenly opens

I saw him in come out his room while he rubs his eyes. He prolly woke up because of the whining of this cat.

“I’m sorry did you woke up because of?” I pointed the cat.

“A little.. you got a cat!?” His sleepy eyes became bigger. I think he’s now more awake.

“No, it’s my cousin’s, she asked me to take care of it.” I explained. He crouched down see the cat, he looked at it as if it’s his first time to saw a cat.

“So, you like cats?” I asked. He nodded not giving me a glance.

“Yeah. I think they’re so adorable.”

“Why don’t you get one?”

“I’d love to but sadly, I have allergies.”

“Omg I didn’t know. I’ll take her insider.” I grab the cage. He stood up. “Sorry.” I added.

“It’s okay. I’ve been exposed to cats before, nothing bad happened when I take antihistamine.”

“Do you have sum?” He nodded. “Take them right away. Okay? I’m sorry again if you woke up because of this.” This is all the cat’s fault; I’m not taking any responsibility if something happened to him. I mean the cat is cute, I’m not just a fan of animals but I don’t hate them either.

“I will. One last thing..” I looked at him waiting for him to continue. “Can I pet her?” I gave him a ‘are you serious?’ look.

“Promise I’ll take the med after this.” I put down the cage and took the cat out. Luckily, Ashley’s cat not that aggressive. I’ve seen this cat before in Ashley’s old apartment and she’s still this calm when the first time that I pet her. I hold the cat near to him but he never gets it in my hands, he only pets it while it’s in my hand. He strokes the fur repeatedly. Seems the cat liking it cuz she becoming heavier.

I was surprised when I felt a huge hand under my mine, trying to help me carry the weight of the cat. His hand feels warm and feels comforting too. Like when you held your hands, you’ll feel safe. Alright where does that come from.

“What’s her name?” I came back to my senses when he spoke.

“Uhh.. her name is Minnie.”

“Minnie.. that’s cute.”

“Yeah, I though so. My cousin liked to watch mickey mouse when we were kids and her cat is a female so..” Funny how Ashley named her cat to Minnie which is is a mouse and cat hate mouse. Very cute.

We both looked when we heard a sound of door opened. It was our neighbor that looks like she’s in her mid-40’s. I’ve seen her before but we never really talk, we just usually smile when we see each other. She looked at us and smiled.

“Early errands.” She spoke. We nodded. She looked down to the cat that we’re holding “You guys have a cat?”

“Ah- no. it’s not mine.” I said.

“Oh it’s your boyfriend’s? That’s so cute.” I mouth hangs open from what she said. Where does that comes from? We don’t even look like friends. I looked at our positions. Jae and I were like 8 inches away from each other, his right on the cat’s and his other hand on mine. Okay woman I understand you now but I need to clarify sumthin here.

"Actually he’s not m-“ She cut me off before I even explain.

“See you guys later. I have to go now.” She waved she hands and left.

Woah. She never let me explain. Also why am I the only one who was trying to defend my reputation here? I looked up to him and saw him trying to contain his laugh. This guy.

“Uh you didn’t even try to do sumthin.” I reminded him. He removed his hands from mine and let me hold the cat properly.

“I thought you can do it alone.”

“Well obviously she didn’t let me speak.” He laughed. I hold the cat to my arm and slapped his arms.

“It’s 4am, you laugh is so loud.” He stops but still trying to contain his laugh. His laugh is not even a laugh. It’s like ‘skhhhhskhshsshs’ instead of ‘hahahahahaha’ He’s a different breed.

“Sorry I just achoo-“ I quickly turned around. He just sneezed. A very loud one. And another one. And another one.

“Geeze, you really need to take a med sir.” I saw him rub his nose.

“This is your fault.” I looked at him raising my eyebrow. “For bringing such a cute cat.” I watched him walked to his door.

“You can have it.” I pretend to hand the cat to him and before he could aim to reach it from me, I shoved away his hand and he laughed.

“For real take your med.” I warned him. I’m not concerned, I just don’t want to him to be an addition to my responsibility. Okay maybe I’m concerned a little.

“Okay mam.” He raised both of his hands. I drag the cage inside my apartment.

“Sorry again, I guess see you around?” I mean he lived across so there’s possibilities that I will be seeing him again. Gosh why I sound so defensive.

“It’s okay. See you and I’ll see you too Minnie! Bye” He waved. I took Minnie’s paw make it waved to him back. He smiled widely that I can’t barely see his eyes. I smiled back and slowly closed the door.

1  2  3  4  5  

[iyatsumu]

ABYSS; SHOTO TODOROKI

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2.9K

Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood and abuse

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! It’s been so long since I last updated the blog but I’ve been so busy with classes and moving into a new house that I simply couldn’t squeeze this into the schedule. But I have a Shoto fic for you all. This is a repost because I realized there were too many confusions in the story. Also, in this story, Shigaraki will be a tad bit older prolly around his early 40s. Enjoy and please remember to take care of yourselves!

"When will you get it together Shoto? Stop making a fool out of me and my name!" You were all too familiar with the booming voice on the other side of the door. Knocking on the door, you pushed it slightly to reveal a man who was surrounded with flames of fire, his back facing you. In front of him was a boy with dual-colored hair. His head was hung low as his father whipped his head back to look at you. "I'm very sorry to interrupt, but Sir Aizawa is looking for Todoroki." You said, trying your best not to sound nervous. As much as you'd love to deny it, Endeavor's presence always seemed to shake you to your bones. Endeavor turned towards Todoroki once more and sent him one last glare before leaving the room. As soon as the door slammed shut, you looked at Shoto. He was frowning, rage was evident in his eyes as he stood up and glared at you. "What?" He asks, venom lacing in his voice. "Don't give me that attitude Todoroki. Your hatred is not towards me but instead to your father, and I didn't come here to save you from his stupid lecture. Sir Aizawa is requesting your presence in his office." You said and threw a shirt at him. 

You turned around and directed your attention at the burnt marks on his wall, probably caused by his outbursts whenever his father comes around to threaten him. Endeavor and his hunger for being the best always drags him into Todoroki's room to scold him whenever he loses to Bakugo or Midoriya. The rivalry between the three most powerful students in your grade started during the first year of high school. You had just transferred midway through the school year with a recommendation from a number of Pro Heroes whom your mother worked for. In the span of 6 months, you had managed to climb into the high ranks of the year level with your outstanding performance in academics. As for the field of physical traits and using your quirks, you tried to stay in the sidelines. Doing just the bare minimum in order to avoid getting in between the rivalry of the three boys. Despite trying to hide your quirk, the teachers and some students like your close friends such as Momo and Uraraka, admit that your quirk is very powerful, even on par with 75% of the Pro Heroes in the country. However, you never let it get to you and you had always tried your best to keep it down, afraid of exposing your true identity, and possibly putting your friends and other people at risk. "I'm done. What does Sir Aizawa need?" You turned to face Todoroki who was now fully changed into something more casual and cleaner. He stood up and both of you exited his dorm room. "Not sure, he simply told me to get you from your room and we had to head to his office." You said and walked alongside Todoroki in silence. --- "Ryota, Todoroki. Take a seat." Your teacher, Sir Aizawa instructed as he walked over to his table. You and Todoroki made yourself comfortable on the plush sofa of his office. "I called you both here because as your teacher, I thought the two of you would be best suited to represent our class in the upcoming competition to be held a few weeks from now. The event is for a pair, male and female, of each class per year level to compete with other pairs. The B class has decided on Itsuka Kendo and Neito Monoma. I understand that you might be confused as to why I have decided on both of you. I have no doubt that Midoriya and Bakugo have potentials to win, however it is dangerous to put Midoriya out for he still has no control over his power and Bakugo's competitiveness could harm other contestants and without a doubt, also his partner. Todoroki, I trust that you can control the limit of your quirk and Ryota, I want you to showcase your quirk." Shit. "Is there no one else that could substitute me as Todoroki's pair?" You asked and Aizawa stood from his seat. He knew how you felt about your quirk and he had expected you to decline the idea. However, majority of the teachers have seen only glimpses of your power and they asked Aizawa to let you on the field some time. "I would've paired Todoroki with Yaoyorozu. But she insisted that you would be far more suitable compared to her." He said, patting your back. "So, what do you say? Are you both okay with this?" "Yeah." Todoroki answered dryly. He had never seen a good glimpse of your quirk, and this was a good chance to understand it and see how powerful you really were. Todoroki always had a hunch that you were far more powerful than what you seem to be. He admired the control you had over your quirk, how you were able to manipulate it to hide its destructiveness. No ordinary person would get into UA with multiple recommendations from Pro Heroes. Aizawa turned to look at you, hoping for you to accept the idea. You sighed and stood up, "Fine, but I am not missing classes just to train." You spoke. "Both of you will have special schedules wherein you are excused from hero training, just for this competition." Aizawa said and with that you nodded. "Now, with that aside, make sure to train well and you may now leave." He said and ushered both you and Todoroki out of his office. You huffed the moment the door was closed, and turned to head into your dorm room. "Hey where are you going?" Todoroki asked, following behind you. "It's Saturday, I'm going to my room and sleeping. Good bye." You said and continued walking. "Sleeping? Aren't you going back home or doing anything else?" He asked, still set on following you. "My mom won't be home until Wednesday, so I have no reason to be home and no, I am taking this moment to isolate myself from Bakugo's booming voice and hopefully from you as well." You turned and smiled sarcastically at him. "Your mom is Maki Ryota, right? The well-known researcher who studies quirks and how to manipulate them." He asked and you stopped walking to face him. "Yes. Look Shoto, I really need to rest so if you would, please leave me alone." You said and left him standing at the hallway. --- "Todoroki, Ryota. Get changed into your training uniform and proceed to the training grounds." Aizawa's voice rang through the speakers inside the classroom. Bakugo's eyes widened and sat up straight on his seat, clearly curious as to why you and Todoroki had training. "Training? For what?" He asked, his gruff voice did nothing to hide the curiosity in his tone. "Shoto and Y/N will represent our class in the Year 2 Duo Competition." Momo said and Bakugo slammed his hands on his desk, igniting explosions from his palm and fingers. "Ha? Why Half n' Half and the brat?" He shouted, Todoroki shook his head and grabbed his uniform from his bag. "Your attitude towards this proves Sir Aizawa's point as to why you were not chosen." You said and was about to walk out when Bakugo shot out a blast of his quirk towards your way. Feeling the heat coming towards you, your hand extended out and opened up a black hole with purple linings that sucked in Bakugo's explosion and the hole dispersed into nothing once more. Everyone was shocked at the situation that unfolded in front of them. No one had been able to withstand Bakugo's explosions without stumbling back, and with such quick reflexes. "Holy shit. Who knew Y/N could be so manly?" Kirishima yelled in awe as he fisted his arms in the air. "Damn you, you brat!" Bakugo shouted and sent an even bigger blow towards you. Before you could react, a huge shard of ice appeared in front of you. You glared at the boy who was beside you, an annoyed look played on his face. "Enough of these childish games, let's go Y/N." He said and dragged you out of the classroom. "When you get back here, let's duel Y/N. Fucking brat!" Bakugo's voice echoed through the hallway as Todoroki kept his tight grip on your arm. "Hey let go, your fingers are cold, it's causing bruises on my skin!" You writhe and Todoroki finally let go. You rub the bruised arm and glare at him. "Why do you even try to fight with him?" He asked, and places his hand on your arm once again. He regulates the temperature of his finger, the heat kissing the pain away from your skin. "I don't. I was simply stating a fact and defended myself after he tried to blow me up." You answered as both of you entered the training ground. In the middle of the cemented ground was Aizawa and Present Mic. "Welcome youngsters into your first training, we will try our best to shape you into your best selves before your competition. Are you both ready?" Present Mic greets, using his quirk to enhance the volume of his voice. "We're supposed to do what exactly?" You asked and Present Mic laughs at your question. "We know both of you are more than ready, so you and Todoroki will try to defeat me and Aizawa." He said and you stare at Todoroki in shock. "Start!" You were startled when Present Mic announced and suddenly Aizawa's binding cloth unwrapped around him and made its way towards you. You jumped out of place and landed a few meters away from Todoroki who already set a barrier of ice which protected him from Present Mic's voice. "That won't do! Present Mic's quirk can shatter even your ice." You told Todoroki and pulled him out of the way. "How do we avoid Present Mic's quirk and be out of sight of Eraser Head?" He asked, trying his best to keep composure. You scratched your head and peeked out from another barrier Todoroki created. "This is going to take a toll on my body but fuck it." You said and grabbed his hand. You created a big hole that was enough for both of you to pass through and shoved Todoroki into the hole. "Where are we?" He asked and you raised your arm to feel the air. Both of you were in darkness, pure nothingness.   "Welcome to Abyss, this is my quirk." You said and pulled him along, continuing to walk around in the darkness. "Abyss? I thought your quirk was sucking up powers?" Todoroki asked. "No, my quirk is somewhat like a portal that leads you to a different dimension. I pushed us in here because this was the only way to escape Present Mic's quirk. In order to counter his voice, you must be layers apart. Now I need to locate Sir Aizawa and pull him down here." You said, feeling around the darkness. "What good will that do us if you pull him down here?" Todoroki asked stumbling on his feet. "In Abyss, your quirks are rendered unusable. Only I can use my quirk in Abyss." You explained and halted at a certain point. "Here, I can feel Sir Aizawa's presence just above this point." You said and concentrated in creating another hole underneath Aizawa's feet. "Wait, even if we pull him down here, he still has his binding cloth." Todoroki grabs your hand before you could fully create a hole. "Great fucking job Shoto Todoroki. Now Sir Aizawa is aware of the hole I created and is moving away." You huffed and wandered around again. "It's not my fault you are being reckless Y/N." He defends and follows behind you. "You may think that, but there's much more Abyss has to offer other than being a quirk nullifying dimension. Now stop fucking getting in the way and just trust me." You snapped and stopped midway. "I have no choice but to make the ground a huge hole." You said and sat down, concentrating on your plan. After a few seconds, Present Mic and Aizawa dropped into Abyss, clearly confused at the foreign place. Present Mic, being unable to use his quirk, could be heard calling out to Aizawa from the distance. A white cloth seemed to extend forward and wrapped around Todoroki's leg before getting dragged away. Before Todoroki could be within Aizawa's reach, a slash came and tore the binding cloth. "What the hell?!" Aizawa shouted in disbelief and tried to come forward again with another cloth. The slashing came one after another and soon enough, Aizawa was exhausted. "Let's get out of here Todoroki." You grabbed him and opened a hole that led back to the training grounds. "What about Eraser Head and Present Mic?" Todoroki asked the moment you both landed back on the training ground. You sat down and touched your hands on the ground. "What are you doing?" He asked. "What I meant by my previous statement, is that Abyss can be controlled by me. I can alter whatever happens inside the dimension, an example is sending troops from abyss to attack the people who are trapped in it. I could also blow the place up." And with that, Present Mic and Aizawa appeared back on the training grounds with burnt marks all over their bodies. You smiled and walked towards them. "Are we done now?" You asked and Aizawa groaned. "Well done students. You may now rest up and be back for your afternoon classes." Aizawa said and stood up to exit the training ground, his arm resting on his bruised stomach. --- "Another failure Shoto! How could you lose to a low-ranking Pro Hero? And a girl protected you? This is not how I raised you. I didn't raise a failure who relied on a girl for protection!" Once again, you could hear Endeavor scold Todoroki in the corner of a hallway, isolated from other students and teachers. You had just gotten out of the bathroom to wash your face after your training, and the rumors of your training with Todoroki spread across the school and Pro Heroes quickly. As soon as Endeavor heard that he was not able to do much against Present Mic and Eraser Head, he immediately made his way to UA and give his son another stupid lecture. You didn't want to get in the way of their conversation but you really had to get to class. Hanging your head low, you tried to walk past them, but oh was the world mad at you. "You're the girl who beat Eraser Head and Present Mic huh?" Endeavor says, his voice deep enough to drown you. You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him and nod. "You lost to this girl right here Shoto? What a disgrace!" He fisted his arm and tried to land a punch on Todoroki but your reflexes were far quicker and you caught his fist in your arm. "Oh, what is this? Look Shoto, a girl trying to defend you? Pathetic." He tried to apply more force into his fist but you didn't waver and gripped his fist. You could see the fabric of his gloves turning into ash. Endeavor thought that this was similar to someone's quirk. Tomura Shigaraki's Decay. "It seems that the rumors were true. You are the daughter of an abomination, Tomura Shigaraki's child. Y/N Shigaraki. Your mother fell in love with a damn villain and had you." You shook at his words and activated Abyss, his hand getting sucked into the dark dimension. You manipulated Decay on your foot and kicked Endeavor, causing him to stumble away and an evident bruise on his stomach. Your Decay was something a little different to your father's, whereas you could manipulate it to work on different parts of your body that could make contact with someone else. Grabbing Todoroki's arm, you pulled him out of the training grounds and away from his damn father. "I don't need your pity or your help." Todoroki said and pulled away from you. You stared at him in disbelief and scoffed. "My father was right. I am a failure for having someone like you protect me." He spat and you felt tears prick your eyes. This was the reason why you never wanted to show your quirks to anyone. Chances of them finding out that you were Tomura Shigaraki's daughter would stir trouble. No one would ever want to be friends with someone whose father was a murderer and villain. "And I was wrong to think that saving you from your father was a good idea. Both of you are alike, fucking jerks." You said and left him standing in the hallway. You walked quickly into your room, trying to ease the burned skin caused by Endeavor's fist surrounded with fire. A droplet of blood escaped your mouth as the after effects of Abyss chased after you. Todoroki was just like everyone else. He was a jerk whose pride was far more important than his emotions and friends. You were foolish to even think that you could be a good pair to represent the class in the competition. You hated him. Very much. As you bled out in your room, a certain someone was left motionless in the hallways. Tears stung his eyes as he realized his mistake. As you tried frantically to ease the burnt skin on your arm and wiping away the blood from your lips, Todoroki tried his best to compose himself and apologize. But he knew that by doing so, you still wouldn’t forgive him. May luck simply be on his side during the competition.

[amor-immortalem]

My Adoring Fan ch. 3

Chapter 2 chapter 4

“Damn it. I keep missin’ the door handle...” The half demon grumbled as she kept reaching for the knob. Eventually, it occurred to her that maybe she should use her right hand to feel around for it and open it that way. As she opened the door, she stuck her head in the door way, not wanting to invade her favorite human’s space fully.

“Maaaaaax, can I ask a favor of you?”

“I don’t know, can you?” Max teased before turning her attention to the cambion, “What do you need, Sunshine?”

As slight blush crossed her cheeks at the nickname, “I was, uh.... I was wondering... if you’d watch while I cook ta make sure I don’t hurt myself...” Azalea looked down, embarrassed. She had just been making a fuss about feeling like she was being babied and now here she was, asking for help when she could do it herself if she tried hard enough.

“Yeah sure. I thought it was your brother’s turn to cook tonight?” She sets the spell book she was studying down.

“He’s not doin’ too hot right now... So he asked if I would do it instead since Zulima’s not allowed anywhere near the kitchen when it comes to cooking dinner.”

“How about I cook tonight instead and you can help me?” The human offered. “I live here too so there’s no reason I can’t cook in place of one you two. By the way your cousins not that bad of a cook. I find it to be enjoyable actually.”

“Are... Are we eating the same cooking?”

“You two are just picky,” She stuck her tongue out at Azalea and Azalea repeated the action.

“C’mon then, let’s go before Hakan starts to destroy the house. Snacks will only satisfy the kid for so long.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Max rolled her eyes with a soft smile.

“That’s what she said,” The half-demon laughs at her own joke

“Azalea!”

“Bye!” The girl takes off, heading toward the kitchen.

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“Heya, weeb supreme, what’s got ya so bent out of shape?” Azalea asks as she ruffles Henry’s purple hair.

“My favorite idol is going on hiatus and she has no plans to come back yet” The boy’s eyes were wet with tears. “How could she do this to her fans.”

“Bruh... she’s a person too. Maybe she just wants a break, did ya ever think of that?”

“Yeah but she could have told us sooner instead of just dipping on us like that!” Henry puffs out his cheeks. "A normie like you wouldn’t understand what it feels like to just be abandoned like that.”

“What did you say?” She asks as a threatening aura emanating from her. “Pretty bold of ya considerin’ you’re scared of everything up to your own shadow.”

“N-Nothing,” He squeaks. “Sorry.”

“Thought so. Now off with ya. Go play some games or somethin’.”

Henry nodded and scrambled out of the kitchen as Max came in.

“What’s his deal?” She asks.

“Oh nothin’,” Azalea smiled. “Just angsty weeb things, nothin’ to worry ‘bout.

“Mhm, sure,” Max was doubtful. “Just get the good out alright?”

--------------------------------------

“Yo, ‘Relius, how ya feeling?” Azalea barged into her twin's room before promptly running into the side of his desk. “Oww,”

“You just do not learn, do you?” The younger twin chuckles at the ridiculous of the scene. “Why don’t you have that dumb stick the doctors gave you so you know what’s in front of you on that side?”

“’Cuz its stupid. I got one eye left so I don’t need it.” Azalea pouts as she rubs her hip where she bumped into the desk.”

“You very clearly do considering you misjudged where my desk was and the amount of lamp posts you ran into on our way to school last term.” Aurelius sighs, “If you go back home with any more bruises from running in to shit, you’re gonna give Dad a stroke.”

“Eh, I’ll figure it out eventually. He worries too much.”

“Whatever you say, ‘Zay, whatever you say. Anyway, I’m doing better, thanks for asking. Has Henry stopped fussing over that idol yet?”

“Prolly not. Who knows with him...” She shrugs. “So, about that letter...”

“You’re not fighting anybody.” Aurelius shuts her down quickly, “I don’t even know who sent it other than an initial.”

“Boo, you whore,” She made her way over to his bed and plopped down on it. “Anywho, peppers are in the oven. Max cut ‘em for me and I stuffed ‘em.”

“Thought you wanted to do everything by yourself? Or is it different with her?” He teased.

“Shaddup!” Azalea threw his pillow at him. “It ain’t like that okay?”

“Suuuuure,” He laughed as his sister’s face turned beet red. “We all know the truth, Simp.”

“Stoooop! She’s just my friend!”

“But you don’t want her to be~” he says in a loud sing-song voice, hoping Max might overhear them, “Admit it ‘Zalea. You’ve got a crush.”

“Lower your voice and stop teasing me!”

“Not until I hear you say it.” He smiles.

“You’re a sadist, ya know that? Why do you do this to your only sister?!”

“Because it’s fun for me. Now say it.”

“Fiiiiiiiine,” the older half-demon groans, “I've got a crush on my friend.” It's said in a mumble.

“Huh? Couldn’t hear you. Could you say that again?” Unknown to her, Aurelius had started recording her confession.

“I said I have a crush on Max! There I said it! Happy?” She practically yells as her face turns an even deeper shade of red.

“Oh, yes I am.” He chuckles as he stops recording and Azalea realizes the mistake she’s made.

“You delete that right now!”

“Come over here and make me.” He gets up and pockets his phone as she dives at him.

With a quick dodge to the right where she can’t see him, Aurelius books it down the hall and down the stairwell. Azalea gives chase but runs smack dab into a wall which buys the younger twin more time to get out of the house. As he passes the common room where everyone is hanging out waiting for dinner, he yells out,

“I’m going out. My sister’s going to kill me. Don’t wait up.” And with that he’s out the door and dashing down the sidewalk and into the night.

--------------------------------------

She was doing her last-minute shopping before the new school term started next week. As she shouldered her bags, the now on hiatus idol steps out of the shop when she gets nearly run over by Aurelius who was still trying to put as much distance between him and Azalea as possible.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” He says as he helps her up, he’s slightly out of breath. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

She’s a little starstruck as she stares up at him. She was hoping they would meet soon, she just never thought they would literally crash into each other. “I- Oh no, I’m alright. Don’t worry about it. What about you? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m alright,” he smiled. “Thanks for asking though.” Aurelius keeps looking behind him for any signs of his sister.

“Were you running from someone...” She pretends not to know his name. She needs a reason to introduce herself after all.

“Yeah, my sister. I have something she really doesn’t want anyone hearing.” He doesn’t introduce himself, assuming she already knew who he was which wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. “I assume you already know my name, but I’ve never seen you around town before... Are you new here?”

“No, I don’t. And yes, I’m transferring to RAD this term.” The succubus thinks she has a pretty good poker face but he gives her an odd look- like he’s surprised. “My name’s Persephone, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Persephone.” he thinks she lying but she has no tells that he can recognize. If she is, maybe she’s only lying so he doesn’t feel uncomfortable for nearly plowing over a fan of his.

“You really don’t know who I am? Do you read DevilStyle teen?” Persephone only shakes her head, another bald-faced lie. “Well, that’s refreshing. My name’s Aurelius.” he holds a hand out to her with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

The succubus takes his hand and shakes it with a smile on her face but internally she’s screaming.

“So which dorm are you in?”

“The House of Sorrow.” Her response makes him stop.

The House of Sorrow? And her name starts with a ‘P’... Oh.... Oh no. Okay, play this cool, man. Don’t act weird about this. She seems normal enough so maybe it’s not her. Ahh but it’s as Uncle Asmo always says: ‘Crazy hides well underneath normal’.

“AURELIUS! WHERE’D YOU GO, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“And that’s my cue. Sorry to cut this short but I have to get moving.” He says as he brings his demon form out. “Maybe we’ll have classes together at school. I’ll see you around, Persephone.” He hopes they don’t. In fact, if she is ‘P’, he hopes they never meet again but he’s trying to act personable. “Bye!” And as soon as he came, he was gone- soaring high into the sky. “By the way, you might want to take a few steps back! My sister’s about to come barreling through here in a matter of seconds!

The former idol can only nod as she thinks he looks even more beautiful in person.

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find more on my masterlist

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

Bro. I have dug myself such a terrible grave. Why me. Why meeeeeeeee. Why must I be stupid. Help. I have to climb into the grave tomorrow or just Wait Anxiously and I’m Not Having Fun. This is like a really terrible fake dating au hhhfhdhdhdhdh. So like. My zucchini beloved and I are obvs in a qpr. They’re allo and their feelings towards me are romo, and mine are platonic. I’ve never been one much for partnering but I love and trust them more than anything so it all seems p okay and coolio to me, yknow? And they know that, we’ve talked about it and all. Besides the point. So, shorthand is that we’re basically dating ig, as that’s what they say in order to not out me and give a vocabulary lesson every time we tell someone. The Bad part is No One Knows About Aro People And Qprs. HELP,,,, no one else in my life knows I’m aro besides my sister and I’m not ready to come out 😭😭😭 my zucchini’s mom is a bit Very Stressful (aka abusive but that is. Another story) and has always been strict on them. They told me that they wouldn’t say anything, but if they got directly asked, they wouldn’t be able to lie, and I can’t really blame them for that. Lying can be hard, esp about something meaningful, and towards your mom, and abuser. So I ain’t mad just slightly ahhHhHHh you feel me? Bcus their mom DID get sus and asked, so like they confirmed it, but didn’t say it was a qpr or that I was aro bcus No. so their mom knows, but the thing is, my mom doesn’t. She thinks my zucchini is my strictly best friend, and while they are that to me, since qpr fits best, we use that, and yknow, allos gonna be allos and will assume (amatonormative) things. But I’m not ready to come out to my mom. I’m not ready for her to know I’m aro. I’m not ready for anyone else to know I’m aro. It feels way too personal. I know they won’t understand qprs anyway, so I don’t know how I would even begin to try and make at least my mom treat it seriously. My romance repulsion will def be Really Bad if they think my feelings are romantic, but again, I don’t know how to tell them it isn’t. Ik allos can be in qprs, so I could just lie about that, but still. It’s like. Personal?? Ig?? It’s my life, and I’ve always been a private person, and I hate when people make assumptions about my relationships. And again. I don’t think my mom will understand qprs, or even be that open to the concept. I brought it up a bit once, saying something about like a platonic marriage and she went off about how that Wasn’t How That Worked and all, so I just. :(((( Thing is, I’ve dug my grave bcus my zucchini and I are both still minors that can’t drive and live with their parents, and also we live in different states. But I’m going to visit them tomorrow!! And it’ll be really nice!! I can sit through their family’s assumptions and teasing bcus they’ll be there and I won’t have to endure it all the time, nor will it hit as hard. So like. I’m more ready for that. But ofc if we ever have a sleepover, since ppl that date or whatever can’t sleep in the same room apparently even though we’re the same sex so what but I get it bcus yeah kids and Allos,,,, so their mom might mention the whole Dating Thing to mine, and she’ll be all “why didn’t u tell meee” and make everything romo-y. But idk how to tell her by myself without having a whole anxiety attack because I’d be presenting it as romantic. And I don’t wanna ruin seeing my zucchini for the first time in so long. Idk I’m just kinda stressed. I’ll prolly wait it out until I’m forced to say something and then decide what to do at the last minute, but yeah. Idk what this ask quite is but I just. Hndbdhdhhdhshdhhsh :(((

If you're comfortable with it, you could try something like saying the relationship doesn't currently have labels or it's currently undefined. Some allo people will understand that when they don't understand a QPR and it falls under being true.

This would be a bit more of a lie, but if you say something along the lines of you're still working it out and haven't decided at this time if the relationship is romantic or platonic she might accept that too.

You could even say your QPR feels more romantic and you feel more platonic and you're sorting it out and don't worry you've talked about it and are on the same page.

This is all language allo people will understand better. And it skirts on the truth of the actual relationship without you actually having to come out. Lots of alloromantic people have complicated relationships or feel differently about each other, so being clear that this is part of what's going on with you doesn't necessarily mean you're aro. It just means the current relationship you have with QPR is complicated.

This is actually honestly a shitty situation, and sometimes that happens and it's OK to recognize it as that. And sometimes there aren't really any great solutions, but hopefully between the above suggestions, coming out or pretending to be romo, you can at least pick the path you're the least uncomfortable with or think you can manage the most. Go with what feels right for you, and do your best.

And it's up to you if you want to deal with it head-on or wait for your mom to bring it up. But it will probably help whichever you choose to have at least a bit of a plan on how to handle it. And maybe talk to your QPR about it too in case you need them on the same page.

All the best, Anon! I really hope things work out.

[wxnderlustfandoms]

a mess [draco malfoy x reader x cedric diggory] pt 2.

[not my gifs]

pt 1 - pt 2

word count: 1005

pairings: cedric diggory x reader, draco malfoy x reader

warnings: love triangle, jealousy, prolly angst

a/n: this has been requested over and over so i assume i should prolly yanno actually give yall part two. this is a bit on the shorter side but i promise i’ll be quicker with part 3

You had skipped the quidditch game and burrowed yourself up in your room for another day, claiming to be sick when your roommates asked why you were skipping classes. They suggested you go to the infirmary but you said it wasn’t that bad. 

You heard a knock on the door and groaned, mumbling for whoever it was to come in. You knew it couldn’t be any of your roommates because they obviously didn’t knock on the door before entering. 

“Hey, [Y/n]. I heard you weren’t feeling okay and I know you haven’t been done to eat anything so I brought you some food,” You were surprised to hear Cedric’s voice. Although when you think about it, you weren’t that surprised. You’d been friends with him since you started going to Hogwarts so it made sense for him to check on you. 

“Thank you,” You said, sitting up. The mention of food made your stomach grumble. You looked over at what Cedric brought. You realized it was all of your favorite foods. You smiled a bit to yourself. However, the smile fell a bit as you looked up at Cedric. You didn’t understand the feeling you felt when you looked at him. You didn’t know if you had always felt this way or if you were just remembering how he kissed you. How his warm lips felt against yours. Even though it had only been for mere seconds, it had felt like hours. You played the situation back over and over again in your head, thinking about what he had said afterwards. He had confessed his feelings for you. Thinking back to Draco asking you on a date… he hadn’t confessed feelings for you but Cedric acted like he did. Draco only did it to mess with you and to have you pay him back for getting you out of detention, right?

“Hello, earth to [Y/n],” Cedric said, waving his hand in front of your face. 

“Oh, sorry. Just thinking,” You responded, moving to take the food. 

He handing it to you and helped you set it up in your bed. 

“About what?” He asked.

“Draco,” You answered. It was half of the truth but you kind of wanted to play with him a bit.

“What?! Why are you thinking about Malfoy!?” He immediately seized, responding aggressively. 

You just laughed and took a bite of your food. 

He paused for a minute, before looking up at you. 

“Are you actually going to go on that date with him tomorrow?” He asked you. 

“Well I kind of have to. He got me out of detention and I told him I would do anything to pay him back,” You answered.

Cedric scoffed at how Malfoy could have taken that offer in many other different ways. 

“Then I’m coming with you.” He stated. 

“What? But he said it would be a date?” You said, puzzled. 

“Yeah, but he didn’t say he had a crush on you or anything so it could be a friend date. He shouldn’t mind if I tag along.”

“I mean, I guess you’re right,” You responded, knowing that this would definitely cause some drama between the two during the date. 

“Then its settled. I look forward to our date,” Cedric smirked, walking out of your room.

This just keeps getting messier and messier. 

You met up with Draco at Hogsmeade, Cedric by your side. 

“What’s Diggory doing here?” Draco scoffed, gesturing roughly to the hufflepuff.

“I’m tagging along.” He responded bluntly.

“What? This is a date! You can’t tag along,” Draco disapproved. 

“But you two aren’t dating. And you have never said anything about having feelings for [Y/n], so you obviously meant a friend date. We’re all friends here, aren’t we, [Y/n]?” Cedric asked, turning to you. Draco also turned to you as if asking for an explanation from you. 

“I- um. I mean yeah, you’re both my friends and…” You trailed off at the end and looked down, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. 

“You’re obviously making her uncomfortable,” Draco pointed out, stepping towards Cedric in a sort of challenging way.

“I’ve been her friend for way longer than you, you idiot. I don’t make her uncomfortable,” Cedric defended himself.

“You seem to have a nasty habit of talking on behalf of [Y/n],” Draco pointed out. 

“I do not! [Y/n] doesn’t think so either, right [Y/n]?” Cedric turned to you. Draco looked at you too and yet again you were caught under their intense stares. 

“I mean… I don’t really enjoy when people talk for me,” You voiced, staring at the ground, your voice small and awkward. You hated this. You hated confrontation .

“See! She even admits you do!” Draco said. 

“As if you’re Mr. Perfect!” Cedric almost yelled, gathering the attention of a few nearby people. They seemed to notice that Draco and Cedric were fighting and started to form a circle around the three of you. 

“I’m definitely better than you!” Draco responded back .

“In what way?” Cedric laughed.

“In as many ways possible. Magic, looks, ladies, the list could go on!” Draco defended. 

“Prove it!” Cedric yelled. They both reached out and pulled out their wands. You noticed they ended up getting especially heated so you moved to intervene and pulled out your wand if you needed to use it when a teacher burst through the crowd. 

“What is going on here?” Mcgonagall asked. “Are you trying to use magic against each other?”

“Professor-” You started, but you were cut off.

“20 points from each of your houses and detention tomorrow in my classroom.” After she made sure you all put your wands away and made the crowd disperse, she walked away. 

You stared at the teacher as she walked away with a blank expression. 

“[Y/n]-” Cedric started, but you cut him off with a single bitter look. 

You turned and walked away from both of them, finding a group of friends to spend the rest of your time at Hogsmeade with instead. 

Tag List (open): 

No one has requested to be on the tag list, however, i’m going to tag a few people that I think would want to see that i’ve written part two

@iintoodeep​

@gyllenbaabe​

@that-boi-misfits​

@sopharris295​

@see-the-fandom-imagines​

@lanadecay​

@voidxholland​

@panic5secb4exam​

@minninugget​

[deepeststarfishsong]

Gentleman

Quarantine has my days all out of whack, so we're starting on week two!

Written for @helianthus21, @pray4jensen​, & @bend-me-shape-me‘s #SPNStayAtHomeChallenge 13/04 Monday 2. Gentleman.

Cross posted to Ao3. 

Thanks to @beccawoof, my love, for the beta and for having casual expertise in SNP canon compliance.  

Nothing about today was especially unique. They had, for all intents and purposes, wrapped up a typical job without any momentous happenings. They were hunting a wendigo just outside the Wheeler County line but they’d been able to stick to the game plan more or less and no one had been seriously injured. Dean appreciated jobs like these. They could mark one in the win column and skip town without any additional feelings of guilt; no one died on their watch and they walked away without additional scars.

Bartlett, Nebraska had been a good four hour drive each way but the warm August evenings and the rolling green farmland made for excellent driving. Dean had rolled his window down and settled into the seat, enjoying the easy pace and casual way Sam turned in the seat to discuss the case with Cas. An hour into the drive back to Sioux Falls, Dean flipped on his indicators and pulled off the 281 to fuel up the Impala and load up on coffee.

While Dean fussed with the premium handle, arguing with the machine and its failures to read his card, Cas and Sam wandered into the station still deep in conversation about the authenticity of internet accounts of wendigo psychosis. Nerds.

As he hung up the pump handle, Sam returned to the car, coffee in hand. “Dude, where’s mine?” Dean huffed.

“This is yours,” Sam smirked at him, handing him the polystyrene cup with ‘Thanks a Latte’ printed repeatedly in awful Old English type. “I’m going to make an attempt at sleep.” Sam gestured towards the backseat.

Dean thanked him by way of a nod, and slid back behind the wheel. “If you start drooling on my seats, I can’t be held responsible for punching you,” Dean teased. Sam grunted from the backseat, shedding his flannel and scrunching it up into some semblance of a pillow.

Dean looked up as Cas opened the passenger door. “Unless I am mistaken, this violates Rule Three, Subsection Three of the ‘Official Rules for Shotgun,’’ Cas mused as he got in. Dean had to laugh. They’d drilled Cas on the rules of shotgun for fifty miles on the trip out and damned if he didn’t remember each of them.

“Yeah, prolly, but the giraffe clause can be superseded by the long haul exemption,” Sam chimed in from the backseat.

“Yes, I can understand why,” Cas replied, more to his coffee than to either Dean or Sam.

After they pulled back out onto the highway, Dean stretched in place, settling into comfortable highway driving, and leaned on the gas enough to hear Baby rev ever so slightly. “Hey Cas, want to pick a tape so we can tune out Sleeping Beauty’s snoring?” Dean’s smile reached his eyes when he looked over and caught Cas’ gaze.

Nodding, Cas opened the glove box and began sorting through cassettes. Dean enjoyed the careful, methodical way that Cas went about mundane tasks; he picked up each tape delicately, holding it aloft to catch the handwritten title in the light of passing cars, returning it to a neat stack when he wasn’t satisfied with his option. It was a reminder of Cas’ ethereal origins, different somehow from the hurried, clumsy way Dean typically did things like this.

“This will do,” Cas said as he ejected Led Zeppelin II and replaced it with one of Dean’s old mix tapes.

Nothing about this day was out of the ordinary. It hadn’t been particularly mundane or chaotic or exciting, but Dean could feel a sense of nostalgia washing over him. It was often the little, seemingly inconsequential moments like these that became his most cherished memories. Sam was asleep in the backseat, the soft sounds of his breathing a reassuring presence. Cas was staring out the window at the ever-darkening horizon of green patchwork farmland, nodding along to Rush’s ‘Spirit of Radio.’ They were heading home whole and successful after a job.

And it was in that moment that Dean realized he was in love.

The words coursed through him, sending tingles through his limbs and his heart galloping around his chest. Love.

Dean didn’t often feel at peace; his life had made sure of that. The memories of Hell, of Purgatory, of the shit they’d seen and ganked chief among them were enough to keep even a jaded hardass like him awake at night. And then there had been the other stuff: Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Pam, even Benny. And so, Dean relished in the rare occasion that he felt at ease.

Dean flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, loosening the joints and jumpstarting the blood flow. A few months back, he’d been staking out a vamp nest for what seemed like forever. While he waited impatiently, he’d remembered that he’d lifted a few books from the Sonoma County Library. He’d pulled one from under the seat at random, more intent to have something to fiddle with than read, but he’d gotten sucked into ‘Invisible Monsters’ pretty quick. Even once he was back at the motel, he’d ended up staying awake until daylight reading. One line had stuck with him. “The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.” That sentiment struck a chord in the ever-present background noise of his self-loathing and he found himself reiterating it in his head from time to time.

In the privacy of his own thoughts, Dean had often wondered how this electric charge between him and Cas would resolve itself. Cas was his best friend, someone who he needed and trusted, and Dean had never been in a mindset to risk losing that for a ‘what if.’ All of the pieces that came with these feelings were messy. He’d practiced bits of these talks to himself. ‘Would you stay?’ ‘I’m bisexual, I guess.’ ‘Please don’t leave.’ ‘I need you.’ ‘Would it be okay if I loved you?’ Not that he’d had the nerve to risk saying them outloud.

And yet, there were these moments that fed the butterflies Dean was doomed to carry in his ribcage. They’d always shared knowing glances, it was fifty percent of their communication. They had always been tuned to one another in a fight, on a hunt. Dean had never been certain if it was just their ‘profound bond’ forged in Hell and acuminated in Purgatory or something more. Usually, he would diffuse the tension with inappropriate humor. It was always easier to say things half in jest, all in seriousness.

Dean glanced over at Cas again, who was still enthralled with the passing countryside. Before he could look away, Cas turned and caught his eye, a warm look of contentment written all over his face. Dean didn’t miss the whisper of a sigh or the careful uptick of Cas’ mouth when he smiled. Love.

When Dean reached over with his right hand, setting it firmly on Cas’ thigh just above his knee, he wasn’t plagued with indecision. He wasn’t cycling though self-loathing worst-case-scenarios. It just seemed like the right time. There was something simple about this moment, this day, that gave him confidence.

Cas let out a contented sigh, and overlaid Dean’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers. Dean gave him a little reassuring squeeze and Cas scooted a little closer to him on the bench seat, getting comfortable. It doesn’t have to be hard.

With his free hand, Cas fussed with the stereo, skipping the songs he clearly knew were next. Satisfied, Cas leaned back into the seat, ran his hand up the length of Dean’s arm a few times, then settled back into holding his hand against his leg while the Impala’s aging speakers played Bon Jovi and Cas hummed along. Wo-ah, we're halfway there, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer, Take my hand, we'll make it I swear, Wo-ah, livin' on a prayer.

At a rundown Flying J at the edge of Sioux Falls, Dean circled the Impala to hang up the pump when Cas walked up behind him, arms laiden with water bottles and cans of Red Bull. Dean sidestepped to open the passenger door for Cas who rewarded him with a blushing smile.

“You’re lucky to have such a gentleman,” mused an elderly woman at the next pump, giving Cas a huge grin.

“Thank you,” Cas returned her smile. “Yes, I agree. I am quite fortunate.”

From the backseat, Dean could see Sam barely suppressing an overjoyed smile. Smug bastard. “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” he murmured.

Sam gave up his self control, laughing audibly and gave Dean an encouraging smile. “You deserve this,” he said simply.

[aleksadnezz]

Sweet Night 2

Jae x Reader

 It is Saturday and I don't have errands today but I don't want to waste this day by just laying on my bed and watch sum tv shows because that's what I always do (after my shift or when I don't have work). I decided to take a shower and wear a white shirt, jeans and one out of my three pair of shoes cuz I’m broke af. I put sum random stuff into my tote bag just in case cuz I still have no idea where I wanted to go. I head out my room and locked it. I glance over to the room across mine, I wonder when he will return my charger.. I’m just kidding. I wonder if he’s alright, I mean if he seems okay living alone and streaming all day? or all night not leaving his apartment. I’m just a concern co-tenant that’s all.

 I walked and walked and walked until I reached to the bus station. I didn’t wait that long for the bus to arrive, I hopped in thankfully there’s not much people at this hour. It’s only 10AM and I still have lots of time to waste. Since this bus is heading to the center of the city, where most people go cuz there are a lot of shopping malls and attractions I’ll stay there and let where it will lead me.

 When we reached the bus station, I immediately got off the bus and casually walked on the street. There are lots of stores in the area that I’m in, there are sum bookstores, clothing stores and cafés. I don’t usually go outside like this but when I do, I only go to market to buy groceries so it feels new to me to go out alone in a different place. What I like about living here is that people don’t actually care about others, it doesn’t matter to them whatever you do in public as long as it’s not harmful.

 I entered to sum clothing stores just to checked their prices and left right away. Damn. Why does clothes have to be that expensive, I can already buy five thrift items for that price. I went to a bookstore and bought one book. It’s a self-help book, though I don’t actually read but I want to give it a shot, this might be a new hobby for me so. I also went to Daiso which I think is now my favorite place, they sell random stuff and cute stuff which I ended up buying more than 5 items.

 Going to stores surprisingly took me 3 hours it’s already lunch time so I went to a café that also sells meals. The ambiance of the place is so calm and expensive, and there’s not much people inside which what I like. I ordered iced matcha and sum carbonara. After I eat, I headed back home cuz I might end up spending all my recent salary in just one day cuz that’s possible to happen. Knowing myself I’m a big spender but try to manage that since I’m now earning and paying my own bills.

 On the way home I didn’t saw the strange old man, thankfully. I’m tired and can’t deal with him right now. I put down all my bags on the floor, got change and lay on my bed. I was busy scrolling through my phone when I heard a knocked on my door so I stood up and walked over my door. My eyes grew bigger when I saw who knocked. It was my neighbor, Jae. He’s wearing sum navy long sleeve button down polo and jeans, way different from what he always wears except only his slides.

 “Hi Jae.” I greeted.

 “Hello y/n. Do you have time?”

 “Yeah why?”

 “Um I know we don’t know each other that much but can you help me?”

 “Well, I guess what is it?” I honestly don’t have an idea what help he is asking. I don’t know he might ask me to help him move furnitures or carry huge boxes or even buy him food outside the building or sumthin.

 “I’m sorry if it’s so sudden, you’re the only person that can help me about this, can you do makeup on me?” Eh? that’s all? I really though he’ll make me carry boxes. When I looked at him, he’s scratching his forehead. I think he’s embarrassed. So cut-I don’t to make things complicated for him so I I’ll put my curiosity behind.

 “Yeah, of course.”

 “I already bought makeup earlier so you don’t have to worry.” I nodded and bite my lip. So, I have to go to his place? Omg

 “Uhh so where do you want us to do it?” Woah that sounds so wrong. I immediately covered my mouth that made him laugh. “I-I mean am I going to your place or?” I nervously laughed. Damn. What the fuck.

 “Anywhere you’re comfortable.”

 “Okay so.. my place?” I asked him and he nodded.

 “I’ll just get the stuff” he said and entered his apartment.

 I scanned my room making sure that my place is clean. All my dirty clothes are on my basket. I have no dishes in the kitchen. My bed is a mess so I quickly smoothen the crease I made on my bed earlier. I sat on my chair and suddenly felt my heart beats fast. I just realized that it is my first time inviting a guy that I barely know, in my apartment. Not that I trust easily, it just my gut feeling telling me that he’s a nice person.

 I heard a knocked so I stood up and opened the door.

 “Hello again” He smiled and extend his hand carrying a paper bag. I took it and oh boy it’s heavy.

“Have a seat.” I offered him to seat on my small dining table cuz I don’t have a couch in my apartment. I sat on the other chair across to him. I took out all the makeup inside the bag and lay it on the table. I think he bought every item that’s in the store, there are more than 10 products inside the bag.

 “Okay..” I looked at him and he fixed his posture and looked straight at my face. Woah. I never felt more shy in my life.

 “I already have moisturizer on.” He spoke. How come he can read my mind? Besides from being a streamer is he a mind reader too?

 “Do you think that’s enough cuz I don’t know what I bought.” He pointed the bag.

 “it’s.. a lot.”

 “I asked for assistance and the lady there suggested those.” I laughed. Poor boy.

 “I think she tricked you from buying everything.”  

 “Happy to help.” He said.

“Great. Okay I’ll put foundation on your face first.” I opened the bottle and put sum at the back of my hand. When I said that he bought every single item in the store, I mean it. He even has the complete set of brushes.

 I can see that he’s still staring at my face while I put foundation on his face. He’s prolly counting my acne and dark spots. I’m too shy to tell him not to look directly at me so I just asked him to unbox the products.

 “Can I ask?” I spoke.

 “Sure.” He answered while he’s busy unboxing each item.

 “Why am I the person you reached out for this?” I raised the foundation and brush, referring to the makeup.

 “Most of my friends are men I bet they don’t know anything about this and I think you’re the only woman that can help me plus you lived across  so..” I laughed when he said the last part.

 “What is this for? If you don’t mind me asking” There, I said it. I’m just curious why he wants me to his makeup at 3pm. Not sus at all.

 “A-ahh I have an event.. yeah an event I need to attend to”

 “Hmm. Is it like the streamercon thing?”

 “Y-yeah something like that.”

 “By the way what time is the event?”

 “Probably at 6 but I have to leave at 5.”

 “Alright I’ll just make it natural.” He nodded and stared at me again.

 “Do you play games?” He suddenly asked.

 “No and I will never.” He laughed.

 “Why?”

 “I don’t know, I just don’t like playing and It looks complicated”

 “Maybe at first but once you started playing, you’ll get used to it.”

 “Still not convince.”

 “How about hobbies? What do you do?” I stop what I’m doing and looked up as if that I’m thinking. He looked at me intently, waiting for me to answer.

 “Nothing.” I said and continue doing his face.

 “What? Really?” He said surprisingly.

 “Yeah, I don’t really have a hobby.”

 “How about that painting?” He pointed something on my back so I looked back to see. It was my painting on top of my drawer, I hid it behind my picture frame cuz I have a nowhere to hide it.

 “That was years ago. I don’t paint anymore.” No story behind it. I just stop doing it. Besides I got busy from working.

 “Why though? That honestly looks really cool.”

 “Really?”  He nodded. “Thank you.”

 “Alright.. down to the last part.” I finished doing his face and I didn’t put a lot of makeup since he already has great skin. I just put concealer under his eyes and brought colors back to his face. I grabbed the peach lipstick and twisted it open. Still laughing in my mind cuz the sale’s lady prolly made him buy 4 lipsticks.

 Now it’s my turn to look at him. I’ve been avoiding his gaze while we’re talking, trying to focus on what I’m doing. I don’t want to make it awkward for the both of us so I’ll just make it fast.

 “Just stay still okay.” He nodded while looking anywhere but me.

 I don’t know where to put my other hand so I let it rest on my lap while the other one is holding the lipstick. I raised my hand and before the tip of the lipstick even touch his lips, he grabs my wrist.

 “Why?”

 “Nervous.” He said, still not looking at me. I’ve seen guys afraid of having lipstick on them which I don’t understand why but I don’t question it either.

 “Is that necessary?” He added.

 “Not really but for you, yes. You’re quite pale, I don’t want you to look dead.” He slightly laughed and softly released my wrist from his hand.

 “Am I that pale?” I nodded.

 “Alright then.”

 “Do you want to?” Asking him is he wanted to put it on himself.

 “No, it’s my first time I might mess it up. I’ll just let you do it.” Woah.  I feel honored.

 “Okay hold still.” I leaned my hand on his face but I can see him leaning backwards.

 “Don’t lean!” He laughed.

 “Alright.. sorry.”

 I hold his shoulder using my other hand and raised the other to glide the tip of the lipstick on his soft lookin lips. I saw him shut his eyes and I find myself smiling cuz I think he looks like a cute little kid. I didn’t realize that the application was taking too long until he slowly opened his eyes. My smile slowly fades while my hands still attached to him, creating connection between us. Our eyes locked into each other for a solid 4 seconds until his eyes slowly landed on my lips-sxsnpRYrccxSWwhhelp

 “W-woah.. m-my makeup is a masterpiece.” I said and quickly moves away. I grab a palette with a compact mirror and hand it to him. He took it and scanned his face. I can feel my cheeks heating up.

 “Masterpiece…” He said and turned to me smiling.

 “Thank you so much y/n for helping me. I owe you.” Thankfully I’m not that dumb enough so I heard it right.

 “No worries Jae. Happy to help.” I said mocking him about the sale’s lady situation. He laughed.

 “No really. I can’t thank you enough.” His phone rings, he looked on it and put it in his pocket. “Also.. can you please keep the bag for me?” I nodded.  We stood up and walked over the door.

 “Sure.”

 “Thank you again y/n I’ll see you… sometime. I’ll definitely make it up to you.”

“Don’t bother. It’s alright.”

 “I insist.” He looked at me intently. It’s like there’s sum energy from his eyes or maybe it just him that made me agree to everything that he says. I think I need to go to hospital. There’s something wrong about here or there’s something wrong about me…

 “Alright. Alright.” I slightly raised both my hands, showing him that I surrender.

 “Good. See you then. Bye y/n” He smiled. What the fuck

 “Bye Jae.” I smiled back. I waited him to leave before I hardly shut my door. I leaned on the back of my door, thinking about what just happened today. There’s nothing wrong about me. It’s him. He’s the problem. The way he looked at me. The way he smiles. The way he laughs. Gosh.

 I’ve seen this in films before and I’m now living on it.

1   2   3    4   5 

[you-are-worth-the-wait]

This is going to be super crazy long I think. I tried to address all the things you talked about. This is prolly as serious as it gets. You don’t really have to respond to it or anything. It was just an explanation to hopefully clear things up and any questions asked are prolly rhetorical. I don’t need you to explain or justify anything. I was just hoping to clear things up in my own rambling muddled way.

You never did tell me what happened or what happened during your weekend/days off. I don’t know if you purposely avoided that or what not. I only ask because I know you do come to me when things got difficult or you need someone to talk to. I know you also have your therapist as an outlet for your feelings/emotions. It’s not that I want to take his place or am a therapist. I’m still someone that cares for you and wants you to still feel safe that you can confide in me not only as someone who loves you but genuinely cares for you. I know it’s difficult because of who I am and what I may represent in this situation but I still do love, respect, and care for you even though we may not be together and I’ll always want to make sure you are okay.

Ehhh...who knows if sushi was our thing. But truth is, I think “we” are our own thing. I think we’ve experienced so much and connected on a different level that it’s possible to say that our entire relationship and everything that we’ve experienced could be “our thing”. From something as complicated as planned trips, road trips, seeing musicals, spending nights/mornings together to the simple things such as driving to work together, holding each other’s hands, talking on the phone to and from work, watching terrace house, messaging each other. From the physical aspect of raw and uninhibited sex, to exploring and sharing our kinks, to intimacy of passionately kissing and just randomly fooling around and being able to laugh during the most intimate of moments and still find a way into each other’s heart. Even to something as weird as doing a taco taste off to making fun of the way I cook. It’s almost as if pretty much every moment/memory/experience that I’ve had in my life that was enhanced and/or made more memorable in one way or another because I was able to share it with you could/would be labeled as “our thing”.

I do feel sad for him too but at the same time it’s difficult for me to rationalize my empathy to others because of what he has and what I don’t have. I’m not a bad person and it’s not like I’m oblivious to the hurt he feels. It’s just hard to say to him that I’m sorry. To say I’m sorry that he feels that way and that I see him hurting the way he does. But who would ever believe me when deep down I do care and love you. Like, I can see myself saying those words and meaning it but at the same time I could have you standing right next to me, lean over and kiss you on the check, and be just as genuine in saying that I love you. How I could look him in the eyes and honestly say that I never meant to hurt him but in the same breath tell him that were the one who opened up the possibility to/for love and when I accepted it I knew that I would do anything I could to make you happy because I loved/love you too.

You also know I think about you daily. Simple things like whenever I flip through Netflix and see terrace house. Or Disney+ and I see Hamilton or the greatest showman. Hearing a Mraz song. Hearing a girl with a “unique” voice. Randomly doing clumsy things and wondering if that’s ever happened to you. Dropping food, spilling something, needing a napkin because I’ve made a mess. Seeing couples doing random, fun things. The way I use a knife to cut things. Putting my scrubs on inside out. Seeing your name on a chart or birth month and day. When I see “emergency contact” and I think of how we used each other. When someone asks if I’m attracted to or like someone. How I do see your name at random shops/stores. When I gravitate towards chopsticks instead of forks. And like I said, when I want to share an experience with someone and give them my take on it but it involved you and I’m so set on saying, “my girl and I...my friend and I...”Lily” and I...” and I have to cut myself short because I don’t necessarily want people to follow up my statement with “who is “Lily”...how is “Lily” and what not.

Not to say that we treated him or what we had as a “big game” but we both knew the risks with what we were doing. We both have each other outs and we discussed it at times. But each time we came to the same conclusion that the other person was worth the risk to have them in our lives. I don’t know if it’s fair to associate how we did things and compare it to how good you may be when it comes to playing games with strategy but there prolly is some element of truth to it. But I think the only reason why we could have been perceived as “good” as what we did was because I think we both wanted it/each other bad enough to make “us” work somehow, one way or another. Yes, when I admitted the snout of things we did, the places/trips we went to/on in state and abroad, the amount of hikes, over night vacays, and for however long/short amount of time, and to have done all that...you and I did a lot of sacrificing and compromising in able to do what we did. But we did it because the other person was worth it. Every time you ran late to something or chose to hang out wotn me instead of him/family. Coming over early and staying out later to be with me. Picking you up and dropping you off at work when I didn’t have work. Coming to get you from work when you weren’t well enough to drive home. Choosing to be with you instead of going to the gym or hanging out with my family because I wanted to spend that extra 5-10 minutes, 1-4 hours with you, because be it 5 minutes or 5 hours, it never seemed like it was enough time. I think we both figured out a way sacrifice things in/during our lives but it was for each other, and we did it in a heartbeat with no regrets in the moment because the other person was worth it. So I’m not saying that you/we both know how to play games. I’m saying that with the proper motivation of it being you and me, we did need to figure out how to “play” and sacrifice certain things but we both knew who/why/what we were doing it for and for you/that, I wouldn’t apologize or let someone hold it against me because if I had the chance, I wouldn’t change a single decision I made when it came to you and me. That’s just me and my honest opinion.

I guess it’s the way I word things or the timing of it all. I am genuinely concerned about you and I do want to know what is on your mind and what you are thinking. You and this entire situation is so hard to “read” though when all I’ve got to go through are “words on a screen” and unknown lengths of time/pauses in between, be it minutes, hours, or days. I learned and picked up a lot of what I could figure and learn to understand from your nonverbal cues, the inflection/tones of your voice, your eyes, your genuine and fake smiles, your silence, your kisses, the way you hug/hold/cling to me. It’s difficult for me to go from all of that and feeling that I was learning/getting to know you, and now I’m relegated to just words on a screen. So yeah, maybe I might jump the gun on asking certain things before you are ready or the way I type something out on here doesn’t necessarily reflect what I meant to say. It’s hard to go from you wondering at times how I could tell something is on your mind and figuring out how you felt based on a look or the energy you gave off to seeing us “fight/argue” more on here than we have face to face. To know that I’ve hurt you, angered you, made you question me, more on here than when we were together. How helpless I feel when you start to get get angry, sad, or feel you’ve said something wrong and pile on to your insecurities when I’ve never told you that you are ever a bother, that you are too much, that I can’t handle you, that you aren’t worth it, that you may not be good enough for me. I’ve never said or believed that about you. So yeah, it is difficult for me to gauge if what I’m asking is jumping the gun of what you are feeling or processing. From my side, all I know is I’m asking how you are feeling and trying to get a better understanding of where you are and what you may be thinking. Like you said, there are times when I ask/say things that maybe I’m lucky enough that you are in the moment of when those questions are asked at the moment you are receptive to it and are ready to think about it from that aspect. And then there are times where I ask the same questions for the same reason but you may be in that moment when you are figuring things out and my questions come across as being nosy, pushy, or as if I’m forcing you to think one way or another. I honestly don’t think I’ve asked how you’ve been and what you could be thinking about and inquiring further about things any more than I usually do. I guess it’s really hit or miss as the timing of when I ask them depending on what state and how receptive you are. I mean, there have been some times where you’ve kind of laughed off how ridiculous your situation is because of how absurd or nonsensical it was from your point of view.

But truth...yes. Sometimes I feel if I don’t ask, you may take it as me not caring or having moved on in some way. Like, if we talked for 6 months straight but not once do I ask how you are truly feeling, what’s on your mind, if I don’t say that I’m here for you, that you can talk to me if you need to. If all our conversations were just about random nothingness and never about what’s really on our minds or how we feel or if during a span of 6 months I never say that I miss you, not even once. Then yeah, I’m afraid that I may give you the impression that I don’t think about you, care about you, don’t miss you, or have moved on. It’s a subject matter that would be easier to confront and there are a lot of things that makes more sense to speak to each other face to face or even on the phone. But this is what we have at the moment. Although it’s helped us to stay in touch, given us a sense of comfort and hope, it has on more occasions than I’d like to count caused us grief, heartaches, and misunderstandings that could have totally been avoided.

Also, along your journey of whatever it is you are trying to discover about yourself, I feel that if we were together, you wouldn’t necessarily be doing it on your own the way you are trying to. If we were together, the journey you are taking, I feel, is something that you’d be talking to me about, bouncing off your thoughts and ideas, letting me know of your hopes and fears, what your reservations may be yet what you ultimately want for yourself. And the thing is that even though it’s a self discovery of who you are and what you want for yourself, if we were together, it’s a journey that you’d be talking and confiding in me about. At least that’s what I think it would be. Like, I have dreams for myself just as much as I have dreams for the both of us but just because it’s my own dreams, goals, and aspirations, it’s not like I’d hide it from you or not ask your opinion of it. Because yeah, ultimately it’s going to be me who figures and chooses the path I attempt to take in order to reach or discover things, but if we were together, I’d still ask you about your thoughts and opinions. It is a journey of self discovery but you play just as big a part of who I am so of course I’m going to want to include you and get your thoughts and opinions. I think maybe that’s what I’m trying to be for you or help you understand where I am coming from when I sometimes ask you things or may come across as intrusive or maybe I’m making you figure things out before you can figure it out yourself. And yes, I can see that you are still struggling to figure things out so I randomly say things here and there not so much to influence you or make you justify your thoughts or actions. It’s more so to help in any way I can or to maybe see things from a different perspective that you may not have seen or considered before. Like I said, I don’t know exactly what you are thinking or feeling but I sometimes do get the sense that it could be along the same lines of what I’m thinking when I mirror my thoughts and feelings but from your perspective. And again, only because I feel I’ve gotten to know you based on how we’ve connected. I’ve never said “this is how you feel...I’ll tell you what you are feeling/supposed to feel...this is what you should think...these are your thoughts”. The only time I venture into that realm is when you confirm what I thought of in the past or you admit/open up to me about certain things. Then do I say, “I thought you felt this way but now I know. I wondered what the reason was but now I understand.” And then I will go off on some random tangent as to why I thought those things in the first place. I don’t know if I had the reasons correct but you confirmed action/feeling.

I think I explained the reason why I thought about the ultimatum the way I did/do. Yes, the black and white of the ultimatum at the time ws difference of you being with me or him. Did I ever want to give you one, no. After he did it and that was the reason why you chose/had to be with him did I wish I had given you one, yes and no. The plain black and white explanation of that moment in retrospect was if I had given you the ultimatum, you prolly would have been with me. But the truth and grey of it all was/is that I knew back then and wat before then that I didn’t want you that way. It’s why I didn’t give you one, it’s why he gave you one before me, it’s why even when you were at a low point and wondered if maybe you needed an ultimatum to save you from yourself, I still asked and said the only way I’d do that is if you yourself gave me the okau to do so because at least then, it would have still been a mutual understanding and you were giving me permission to ask you to be with me and I would have done so because you couldn’t trust yourself anymore and you were willing to put your trust in me that I’d take care of you. Oddly enough, when he did give you the ultimatum, even though I didn’t realize you would have “obeyed/abided (I don’t know the proper term to use here)” by it, a part of me thought that that was the biggest mistake he could have ever made. Pretty much for all the same reasons he’s realizing now, I kinda knew back then which is why I didn’t give you one. The thing is, even though I didn’t give you and ultimatum, the fact of the matter was, just like you said, you’d be physically there. Here’s the difference in the grey vs the black and white of the ultimatum. His ultimatum is playing out the way it is now. After almost a year of “physically” being there, at this moment, this is what has happened since and what you have to show for “physically” being there. If it had been me who had done that, I would have possibly had the black and white of you being “physically there” with me. The grey of it all is the difference. In that same amount of time, at what point would you and I be in the relationship. Would we be better/worse. That’s the thing I can’t tell and that’s the grey of it all. And that’s the only reason why I mentioned the thought of me giving you an ultimatum. Not that I would have given you one. But if I did, maybe you would be with me now, which leads to wonder what I/we would have done/figured out in that time. Of course I’d be hopeful in thinking that yes, you still would have corn through a tough time and there would have been those moments of depression. But a part of me feels that together, maybe, you would have come out of it for the better in the long run. But again, that’s me and hopeful thinking. But that’s based on what I know about you and me and how we are when we are together. Alone, we are okay and prolly better than okay. Together, we are amazing. And if you were in the position you are now, trying to figure out/understand your life, you, how to process things. In the alternate universe where I gave the ultimatum and you were with me, you’d be asking my opinion when it comes to trying to figure out/understand yourself. That’s alternate universe with so many “ifs”. But to present reality, you are still trying to figure out/understand yourself and big picture. And I’m still here still trying to help you but not being physically with you. Gawd...does any of this make sense? You are gonna have to have another 4 day weekend to figure this all out.

Sooo...yeah...sorry. Crazy long. My bad. And same...you mean something to me as well. Even if I don’t say those words or as often as I could/should. I just wanted you to know that.

[mythykl]

**That’s right. It’s time for Kakashi x reader Bitches

“Kakashi? Kakashi??” You couldn't comprehend why Rin had locked you in a dark room with hIMmm, and you held his hand the whole time, cuz’ ya 13yo ass was scared af. Once you guys were let out, you saw Rin and Obito fist bumping each other. 

That's when obito blurts- "Being the ones to know how much you like Y/n, you should've seen this coming!" 

"Baka! Shut up Obito, y/n doesn’t kn-" rin whispered

lmao. You're ass went speechless. Kakashi's hold tightened and he dragged you outside the academy.

before dating, he was pretty much a jerk to you, but it was through rin that you both get to know each other more personally,,, and still,, he continued to act like a jerk

well. once he took you outside, he decided to confess. His voice seemed shaky and he didn’t- couldn’t really speak out exactly what he wants,, 

“Kakashi, quit beating round’ the bush.. And the way you’ve held my hand it’s hurt-”

In the mid sentence- he just,, pulled you into a hug,, and whispered how much he likes you and asked you out!

you guys ended up having a beautiful time on your trip/date, at naka river, and,, tho no one really mentions, you both start dating *an unspoken understandin i guess?* on ya second date you guys prolly went for treking! *well i’m imagining that you aren’t a ninja*

You were by far the only one to see his face w/o mask

By now you had gotten used to obito’s clingy ass. though kakashi rants too much about him, you know, he loves him. Rin helps you a lot with dating advices,, somehow

Minato sensei teased you kiddos,, a lot. “At your age, all i used to do was keep staring at kushina,” he joked once.

He was a huge chatter and a curious ass fella surprisingly, you’re boyfriend talked to you about most of the things he learnt in mission, every goddamn theory he had in his mind, his likings and dislikings, his interest in Dōjutsu etc. You could feel how lonely he used to be, cuz he felt no one would listen 

you’d join him during his training at times, well that time you got to know that throwing a kunai isn’t as easy at it looks, your wrist hurt af

once kakashi had called you princess after kissing you in front of your friends, this commenced to everyone calling you by that name. especially Gai and obito

After obioto and eventually, rin’s death *ofc* you guys drifted apart; drastically. You couldn’t understand or help him through his immense remorse and regret while he would just,, either had a huge tantrum or not say anything at all. He said things like-  it’s better to stay alone, and have no one to lose- while breaking up, which hurt you a lot. within a few months, you guys didn't even cross paths in konoha streets since he became heavily loaded with anbu missions

Now that it has been like,,, a really long time; one day you see the konoha’s infamous Naruto with his team at the door, with a huge flower bouquet.

“Please accept this!” The girl with pink hair squeals.

“It cost us our whole savings but Ino-kun did give us a good amount of discount after hearing these are for kakashi-sensei’s date dattebayo!” naruto,, practically screames.

“Hold your horses; that’s not how you greet people.” the,, uchiha? Yes. he concludes blandly.

Your heart skips a beat on hearing your long-time-no-see lover’s name. Knowing him, you highly doubt that he sent them but still you ask.

“No ma’am, but we-once- managed to sneak into his Icha Icha Paradise, he’d written your name.. In it.. So we found you. You are sensei’s date aren’t you!?” the girl with pink hair, yes sakura, almost whispers to you.

ah.

“Yeah. That was a hell of a long time ago,” you smile.

You let them in and offer some tea. You guys talk a lot and they were astonished?- yes, more than astonished that you’ve seen him w/o mask. Ah ok

Wow they had already done huge ass planning beforehand to make you both meet *not that you know*. As you take them downstairs to bid adieu, you see kakashi,, literally,, standing, in front of you’re door. Both of you equally shocked. 

Kakashi and you start talking to each other. You apologize for not sticking around since you didn’t know how to help him let go of his pain while he apologizes for bein a jerk-? Ok.

You guys plan to hangout-, which is the most difficult part! You had to work in the morning hours while he had to stick with team 7 for missions by afternoon

 you guys ended up deciding on crashing at each other’s places at night, and also,, sometimess early in the morning *???* it gets tougher for him with time to juggle from place to place, thus, getting late for his missions

You guys end up moving in together *it’s official* and he sleeps closest to the window. yes.

He’s very protective of you and kinda the jealous type, he’s afraid of losing you and is very open about expressing it. He doesn’t give you nicknames but often call you stuff as ‘my other half’ and refers you w -chan *just being sarcastic*

You are like a mum to team 7 and they love you, you get them lunch at times. Sakura often asks you for advice to get sasuke,, but udk what to say since sasuke.. Is just sasuke *he reminds you of 13yo kakashi*. But uk that there’s a special bond between them

kakashi doesn’t hate PDA, but he doesn’t like it either; you guys for long walks in the evenings, occasionally hold hands. Is it obvious to others? Don't know. Butt once you caught kurenai and asuma kissing.. Twas’ hella kyut

He would also rest his chin on you head a lot, and likes to intertwine his fingers with yours when you guys are alone

Hugs aren’t his thing but if you hug him, he’ll slowly hug you back and then all at once melt into you, Anddd he’s warm af

twice you caught him, just in underwear, slurping ramen in the middle of the night and you were like,, wait wut-

He loves ya massages and loves to cut vegetables,, for some reason,,

Big cuddle person in bed

You love trying different hairstyles on him anddd he looks dead ass hot in most of em. Let’s just agree,, he has a better taste in style than you tf

You guys usually opt for trips to neighbouring villages, hot spring trips, camping etc

Tho mysterious and sarcastic, he opens up to you whenever needed. Unlike in childhood, now you’re the one who talks a lot. He agrees to feel acknowledged for being himself whenever he’s with you and like a prodigy, sharingan bearing, functioning human, as people call him. His brain lets go of all his insecurities and PTSD for a while when he sees you happy because of him

He often loses track of time during his frequent visits to the memorial stone where Obito's name is engraved; you understand that he needs some alone time for this ritual and this, don’t tag along 

Well now, even you've started reading icha icha series cuz’ of ya moron boyfriend, and you are hooked to it *since I basically imagine it to be the fifty shades of grey in naruto universe lol* you guys freakin end up trying shit from the book

“Baby, let’s be sexy,, together” he said once as he leaned againt the kitchen counter in the most sexy way.

“Sure senpai, why the book’s tactics won’t work?” he just laughed hysterically at the comeback.. And,, umm.. You get what happens

He likes braiding your hair, especially before sleep, he finds it relaxing

Whenever his ass displays a bored and unenthusiastic expression, you say, “go bald kakashi.” right. What a mature insult 

He’s very calm and observant and knows what you are feeling- or even what you are thinking. I mean how-? 

He asks you to make miso soup, with eggplant, a lot!

Your parents aren’t really sure of your relationship. Since he wears wut? a maskkKkk. And once Kakashi, still being as apathetic as he was during his youth, spoke bluntly about sensitive topics with them during a discussion

gai gifted you both matching Yukata on ya bday. that’s indeed beautiful and thoughtful of him.

well Your boyfriend sucks at selecting gifts.. He gets you things that can’t be used or idk.. ButTttt this man is too good at remembering dates  

People wonder if he’s stern and serious, judging by his past and repo, but you tell them that he isn’t! Well, he has decided to move on, and now you know how to support him. He knows that you appreciate him for that, and this he listens to you.

you just found an engagement ring on you night stand with letter beside it. congrats hun *instant panic*

...

i hope you enjoyed ;))

i need to,,, stop imagining so much, it's a lot to type. i wish i had a gadget or something through which my imagination would get typed, systematically, on my pc. Btw i won’t be uploading much in September since i gotta study so. so don’t assume that i’m dead or don’t care anymore. 

this one was requested by two peps, since my ass is new on tumblr i kinda fucked up and thus, my inbox got cleared or something. i’m still learning k

ya that’s it.. imma go and read my icha icha now ah huh