#Chan can dj it

[godslino]

PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

so

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[daechwitatamic]

Vice;Grip || chapter 1 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.  A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!! //

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out. Section Specific Warnings: casual drinking, piv sex, , nip stim, reader on top, drunkenness to the point of blacking out, vomiting due to overdrinking (mentioned very briefly), dirty talk, implied drug use / vernon is high, heavy themes in regards to mental health - allusions to unspecified mental illnesses in the realm of depressive and anxiety disorders

wc: 5800

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

Now

You’ve been used to seeing his face only in puzzle pieces, triangular fragments of glass beside a fallen picture frame. Mostly in flashes of light that are gone too quickly to process the whole picture - as the car he drives passes under a streetlight, as the flashing lights from a dj booth sweep over you before moving on, as the moon crosses over the gap on your window’s blinds that your cat broke two years ago and you never replaced.

Despite this, you know everything about it: how he keeps it carefully flat, but when it breaks it’s always to jump to extremes. How he laughs so hard his features distort and shatter, how his eyebrows nearly meet when he’s breaking and pressing fingers to his eyes, how his eyes squeeze shut when he mouths your name against your neck and presses his fingertips tighter against your skin before letting go. You have it all memorized. You know it by heart, even in the dark. 

That was how you met - in the dark. You were dragged to a bar by your best friend Chan, determined to drink until you weren’t annoyed by the existence of everyone around you, until the music and lights seem to flow over and around you, like you’re experiencing them through a thick pane of glass. 

He’d been invited, too. He and Chan had friends in common. You’d noticed him early in the night, sometime before things got foggy. Of course you did - even in the dim lighting you could see how good-looking he was, all sharp points and edges. You made note of how he stayed quiet, a tiny smile on an otherwise unchanging face, but his eyes had darted around, following the conversation sharply. 

Sharp is your favorite word for him. It fits everything about him, top to toe, inside and out. 

Sharp, sharp, sharp. 

He looked how you feel inside, even now. 

You’d gone back to his place, that night. You still remember him leaning back against the wall of the bar, arms crossed against his chest, mostly in shadow until a pink light passed over you both before leaving you in shadow again. As your eyes adjusted again, pieced his face back together in the dark, one of those eyebrows had lifted in question. 

You were surprised at how clean his place was; he was surprised by how cluttered yours was, the next time you’d come together, maybe a week later. 

This was almost two years ago; you’d both gotten used to each other since then.

It wasn’t a surprise, each time, when he gasped and then whined when he came, when his grip tightened like he had to make sure you stay put until his heartbeat starts to slow again. Not a surprise when he’d pull his ripped jeans back on less than ten minutes later. Not a surprise when he’d reach out to wiggle your foot through the blankets to make sure you were awake to hear him mutter, “See you,” on his way out. Nothing surprising about how you’d go four days without talking and then send him a wyd?, nor about how he’d come to pick you up, his car idling outside your building within the half hour. 

You’d been doing things this way for ages. It was practically a routine. This was just what you two did, in the dark. 

You weren’t sure what he did during the day. You and him, you only existed when the sun went down. 

You didn’t know what he looked like in the golden hour, or at a restaurant table, or hurrying through a rainy afternoon. You didn’t mind; he belonged to you like this - only in the dark, only in pieces, only in too-quick flashes of light.

It was enough.

Or, you’d pretended it was, for as long as you could. 

1 yr 11 months ago

The first few times were simple. You both knew what you were there for. You’d text, he’d come get you. You’d watch his hand on the gear shift as he drove you back to his place. You’d undress each other across his living room, a breadcrumb trail to follow back out when it was over. He’d order you a ride when it was done, you’d get home and shower, sinking into your own bed just as the light started to shift outside, warning everyone that dawn was imminent once again.

Or, conversely, he’d text instead of you. Or he’d drive to your place and stay, pressing you against your entryway wall before even closing the door behind him, threatening all your neighbors with a show. He’d slip out, after, leaving the smell of his cologne on your skin, on your sheets, even - somehow - in your kitchen, where you’d gone for water while he got dressed. 

You both knew why you were there. You both knew what you needed out of it: just sex, just fun. You couldn’t even call it friends with benefits because you weren’t friends from dawn to dusk.

The just of it failed to last.

You know precisely the first time it was different, the first time you needed him. You needed the same things as always - his mouth hot on your skin, his hands alternating between sparks of pain and soothing caresses, the stretch of him emptying your mind and pushing every bad feeling out like there wasn’t room for them anymore. But for the first time, you didn’t want those things for enjoyment.

You wanted them as a salve.

Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose. 

You did ask him, in your own way. With your tongue, with your hands, with your hips. You didn’t know if he could tell that something was different, that you were using him to hide, that your urgency was because you wanted to feel something else. As you moved together under the fairy lights above your bed, the motions were the same as always. 

It was after, that was different. Before he got dressed, he’d rolled to face you across the few inches of dark. His statue-like face wasn’t blank, now. Instead, his brows knit just slightly, his lips frowning on the hint of a pout.

“You okay?” he’d asked.

You’d looked back at him, goosebumps rising up and down your arms as your skin cooled. Should you lie? That was the best way to keep him at arm’s length, the best way to make sure this didn’t get too deep, the best way to ensure you didn’t scare him away.

But something made you tell the truth.

“A little better, now,” you admitted, quiet, your voice creeping through the dark like it was avoiding landmines as it tiptoed over your mattress. 

He’d nodded, slipping back into the silence he wore best. Then he’d stayed just a few minutes, breathing quietly beside you, before getting up and sliding back into the routine. A few extra minutes of not being alone, like he knew you needed it even if you couldn’t ask for it. 

In the silence he left behind, the truth had ballooned into the empty room: something had shifted. Now, on the nights when you hurt, when you weren’t sure you wanted to keep clawing your way through, you had another vice to pick from for distraction. More or less destructive than your other, older vices? You weren’t sure.

Almost two years later, you’re still not sure. 

1 yr 10 months ago

The levels of separation were just enough that you didn’t cross paths at a lot of social events. But it was always a little thrilling when the circles did converge, when he appeared at the edge of the group, when the game became act normal in front of everybody. 

You like games.

Vernon does, too.

The first time he showed up unexpectedly at the bar, your stomach swooped, and you hid a sneaky smile by tipping back your glass, draining the rest in one go and announcing that you needed a refill. 

A game, knowing he’d watch you walk away. A game, knowing he’d have to look away again quickly, before anyone caught on. A game, pretending when you return to the group that you don’t remember his name. A game, knowing that at the end of the night, he’d come home with you and make sure you didn’t remember anything but. 

You had too much to drink, too caught up in the fun, in the promise of later, in the thrill of feeling like you were harboring a secret like a precious plant, cupped in loose soil between your muddy fingers. 

The alcohol made you lose track of your friends, of the time, of directional stability. You stumbled to the hallway you thought held the bathroom, one sweaty palm slapped against the wall to help you get there. 

You’d only been sleeping with him for two months, but his hands on your waist were familiar. So was his mouth, near your ear, asking a familiar question - “You okay?”

“Should probably go home,” you muttered, still present enough to know you were a mess. That others could see your mess. 

“Can you get yourself out front?” he asked, and there was something gentle in it. It made your stomach turn; or maybe that was the vodka. It made you want to run, to put distance between you, to remind him that you weren’t his to take care of. It made you want to hiss and spit to remind him that you’re an outdoor cat.

“Why?” you asked, turning in place to face him, something hard riding up in your chest. 

He shrugged one shoulder, like it didn’t matter to him if you listened or not. “If you go out now, I’ll order a ride. Then I’ll head out in a few, when the car is here. It’ll look like you left already when I go.”

You narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re being awfully strategic.”

He lifted that eyebrow again. “You want Chan to know we’re fucking?”

The word sizzled through you like an electric shock. But you took a breath and considered the question. “No,” you answered, once you muddled through your soupy brain enough to find the word. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay,” he said, as if that settled that. “I’ll order the ride. Your place okay?”

“Mhm,” you said, distracted, suddenly aware of your lack of equilibrium, nausea making its presence known. You might not have told him goodbye before pushing your way back into the crowded dance floor, weaving around people and squeezing through impossibly tight spaces until you find Chan again.

“My uber’s out front,” you said in greeting. 

“What?” he cried, looking betrayed. “It’s not even one-thirty!”

“If I stay,” you told him seriously, “I will hurl. Talk tomorrow?”

He pouted a little but nodded, waving goodbye as you turned and struggled towards the front door. 

Stepping from the loud, crowded bar into the quiet street was almost dizzying in itself; you struggled to adjust as you took a few steps away from the door. The lit-up signs from the nearby businesses swam around the edge of your vision, and you swallowed down a fresh wave of nausea. 

It seemed like only seconds later, though it must have been at least five minutes, when the car pulled up and Vernon appeared from out of nowhere to usher you into the backseat. 

You don’t remember the ride home. You don’t remember Vernon supporting you by your elbows to keep you from toppling sideways (or backwards) down the stairs. You don’t remember dropping your keys so many times that he’d taken them from you, let you both into the apartment. You don’t remember him helping you remove your heels, or placing a glass of water by your bed. 

You do remember waking up somewhere in the bright hours of early morning, still in your tight dress, head pounding and stomach rolling. 

Your apartment was empty; you hadn’t expected him to stay, but you’d checked the couch anyway, just to be sure. You drank the whole glass of water, sat on the floor of the shower and let the hot water punish you for your bad decisions, and then crawled back to bed. You texted Vernon - the first time either of you had texted while the sun was up - and apologized, thanked him for getting you home. 

You expected an answer as reserved as he normally plays things. You were surprised when, instead, he sent you back, “i think i’d be good at rodeo”, followed quickly by, “rodeoing???”

Frowning, you sent back a line of question marks.

His answer made you laugh through a groan, pressing your face into your pillows in embarrassment - “corralling you was NOT easy… but i did it 🤠”.

Face flushed with embarrassment, you sent another apology. 

You sank into quiet after that, unsure if you’d messed things up, made it too real, became a thing of responsibility instead of a thing of attraction. But he’d texted you the next weekend, those three little letters sending relief through your system: wyd? 

“Not drinking,” you said, and he wasted no time in sending back, “want to not drink at mine?”

1 yr 9 months ago

come over?

you come here?? ill order ur ride

ok 👍

“You seem weird.”

Vernon kept his expression even, though hearing the words made him want to grimace at being called out so immediately. He’d been spiraling for at least an hour; had at one point gotten so worked up that he’d slammed his laptop on the desk, causing it to show a shuddering blue screen before restarting on him.

If it hadn’t stumbled back to life, he honestly thought he would cry over it.

He might anyway. Fucking shit.

“I’m a weird guy,” he deadpanned instead.

“Weirder than normal,” you volleyed. “Everything okay?”

Vernon sent a dark look over his shoulder, where the textbook he’d been burying himself in still sat open on the page he’d been on when your text had rolled through.

But you weren’t here to help him study. You weren’t here to listen to him complain that he’d failed his last test, that his scholarship rode on this next one. You weren’t here to help him make flashcards, or even to rub his shoulders while he hunched over the textbook.

You were here so he could forget, for just a little while, that he was stressed in the first place. You were here to help him feel something besides the knots in his stomach, so he could hear a voice echoing in his head that wasn’t his own calling him stupid, stupid, stupid. You were here to melt the edges of his anxiety, the way he could have with a shot or a pill, if he were in a different mood.

He replaced the textbook on the flat surface of his desk with your bare ass, leaning over you to brace an arm next to his sleeping laptop. He let your soft cries take up space in his mind, crowding out his internal admonitions, his mind’s noisy cycling through the list of things he should be doing instead. His stomach muscles clenched because your fingertips trailed over them, not because he was imagining having to tell his parents he’d lost his scholarship. He groaned, long and guttural, because you felt like heaven clenching around him, hot and silky and perfect, not because he’d read the same paragraph three times and retained none of it. His fingers found the back of your neck and gripped you hard, holding you in place as his hips snapped into yours, instead of gripping the pen that refused to write answers that made any sense.

It worked; it helped. It was the first time in days that Vernon felt okay. He wished he could last forever - just so that he didn’t have to go back to reality, to life outside of this.

“Car’s on its way,” he told you, after you were cleaned up and dressed again.

You looked up at him from where you were perched on his desk, the same spot where he’d been drilling you only ten minutes ago.

“Thanks,” you said, then looked down at the textbook in your hand. You’d picked it up absently, but now you turned it over, reading the cover.

“This looks hard,” you observed. “Is this why you’re all…” You trailed off and made a face to indicate that Vernon was the human equivalent of a keysmash. You even mimed the keysmashing, in the air in front of you, with both hands.

The smile he gave you was probably sheepish. “Yeah. Test tomorrow. Flunked the last one.”

And he wasn’t sure why he was telling you, but you nodded slowly, eyes still on the cover of the book.

“Sucks,” you said sympathetically, and that was that. You didn’t make it a thing. You gave him a quick smile as you closed his door, and then you were gone.

Vernon took a shower, dissociated in the warm water until it ran cold. Then he heated up some instant noodles, and set everything back up on his desk to try again.

Maybe he should make fucking flashcards.

He was still at it around two in the morning, literally holding his eyelids up to stay awake, when his phone rattled on his keyboard.

good luck tmrw. hwaiting.

1 yr 8 months ago

“Go talk to him!”

“Chan, from the bottom of my heart, fuck off.”

Your best friend pouted at you over the top of his beer. “You haven’t dated in forever.”

You hadn’t needed to. You didn’t want domesticity, nor partnership. And the parts that were left, Vernon had been handling just fine.

But Chan didn’t know that.

“I don’t want to,” you snapped. “I don’t want to talk to that guy, and I don’t want to date someone. I want to drink with my idiot friend Chan. Is that a problem?”

His pout deepened. “No,” he sulked. “But I’m worried about you, noona.”

“Well, don’t be,” you said, softening. “I’m fine. I’m just not after… all that.”

Still looking a little bit like a kicked dog, Chan glanced down at his beer and then back up at you, timid. “Have you been… working on anything lately?”

You wanted to crawl out of your skin. You wanted to evaporate, slip towards the ceiling in tiny droplets of not-matter, vanish as you got too close to the sun.

“Nope,” you said, forcing a breezy tone.

His eyes on you were too knowing. Your clothes all itched, suddenly. “Nothing, since -?”

“Chan,” you said, not even trying to hide the desperation on your face, in your voice, in the way your hands reach out for his. “Please, can we not do the intervention thing right now? I really, really cannot.”

He went quiet. “Fine,” he said finally, and the timid-younger-brother thing was gone, replaced with something almost angry. Frustrated, at least. “Fine. You need a refill?” He downed the last of his beer and reached for your glass.

“No,” you said, pulling it further from his reach. “I need shots. Let’s go.”

The burn in your throat helped you move on, move away from the uncomfortable moment. You relished the slight sting, closed your eyes as you felt the heat make its way to your stomach. Kept them closed, felt everything tight inside you loosen by degrees, until you could breathe again.

You danced, you drank more. You did tequila shots, licking salt off the back of some girl’s hand, both of you giggling even though you never saw her before in your life and probably wouldn’t again once the shots were done.

At some point, you stilled, realizing you hadn’t seen Chan in a while. You rested your elbows against the bar for balance and pulled out your phone.

where are you? you sent.

His answer confused you. told you goodbye almost two hours ago, you fucking mess.

Then, another, do I need to come back and get you?

Shame engulfed you. You were a mess, always a mess. A fuck-up, a drop-out, a waste of potential. The idea of him having to come take care of you, come back to get you and babysit you, made you want to crawl under the sticky floorboards.

no, you sent back. i’m leaving now.

But the shame hovered over your shoulder. Its breath coated your neck in humid huffs, its claws pressed into the flesh of your arms hard enough to leave little crescents, its tail curled around your leg to hold you in place.

You ordered another shot.

The room was dark, and smelled stale, like a window hadn’t been opened in months.

The room was not the bar.

Your body flooded with adrenaline so fast that you had to close your eyes and force an inhale.

You didn’t remember leaving the bar. You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t know how you got here.

The shame was back, tail heavy over your abdomen, but the spikes of fear were worse. You felt around the darkness until you could find your phone. You used its light to look around - you seemed to be alone on someone’s couch. Hand shaking, it took you three tries to open your maps app. You couldn’t get the screen to focus, couldn’t read to see what neighborhood you were in.

The screen swam before you and you clicked it off, closing your eyes and trying to breathe, trying not to cry.

Who could you call?

Not Chan, the shame whispered to you, lifting its head from slumber and opening its beady eyes, yellow across the dark room.

You didn’t have many other choices. You'd found that a symptom of isolation is that fewer people stick around, waiting for you to come out of it, to be normal again. You'd known this, logically, for years. You still couldn't help it when the urge to hunker down and speak to no one but Chan and your mom took over; you couldn't help when your stupid, broken brain told you that you were bothering everyone but to believe it. Don’t call Chan. You closed one eye and turned your screen on again, determined to make it make sense.

It was almost three in the morning.

You knew one person who might still be up.

Vernon’s hello sounded awake, and that’s what made you crack, tears starting to slide down your cheeks without permission.

“I don’t know where I am,” you admitted. The shame gave a hearty huff and lowered its head again. “I can’t - I can’t get a car because - I can’t see the - the buttons aren’t working -”

“Put me on speaker,” he said calmly, and you clung to his voice like the rung of a pool ladder. You didn’t need to climb up, you just needed to hold on.

“Okay,” you said, when you’d managed it.

“Go to your messages,” he said next, and walked you through each step until you’d managed to drop him your location.

“Thank you,” you’d said, tears dry. Everything dry. Even the shame seemed a bit opaque, the numbness strong enough to push away even this least desirable companion as it came creeping in. “Thank you, I’m sorry, I -”

“Stay on the phone with me,” he instructed.

“Vernon, no,” you protested. “You should go to sleep.”

“Wasn’t sleeping anyway,” he said flatly, and there was no room to argue.

You stayed on the line in silence as you hunted around for your shoes, or a coat. You found neither, though somehow your purse was still strapped to you. You did manage to find a front door. You exited the house, closing the door quietly behind you. You still didn’t know whose fucking house it was.

You threw up next to the mailbox. You collapsed into the grass, wet with morning dew under your back. You shivered, coatless and barefoot. Your phone was somewhere in the yard behind you, the call still connected.

Above you, the shame swam between the stars, twisting and undulating amongst the constellations until it made you so dizzy that you rolled over to throw up again.

When you saw headlights, you pushed yourself to sit, trying to breathe. The driver wouldn’t let you in the car if they thought you might be a puke risk. You looked around the ground near where you were sitting, trying to find your phone, realizing belatedly that you were still on the call with Vernon.

“Sorry,” you said, bringing it to your ear again. “I dropped my phone in the yard. The car's here.”

“I know,” he said simply, which didn't make sense, but you were too gone to figure it out.

“I'm gonna hang up now,” you said quietly. “Thank you for helping me.”

He made a noncommittal noise and you ended the call as the car coasted to a stop. You started to rise, to make your way unsteadily to the back door. Instead, the driver’s door opened.

“Vernon,” you complained, horrified that he'd come out at three in the morning to get you. He was supposed to be home, in bed, while a stranger drove you home - a stranger who you paid in money, owed no emotional labor for this effort. A stranger who could see you like this - a wreck, makeup smudged, confused, lost in multiple ways - and never see you again.

Vernon looked you over, then shook his head. He walked around his car and opened the passenger door, looking at you silently, waiting.

Finally, you stalked over.

“Why are you out here with no shoes on?” he asked, voice lower than normal.

“Lost them,” you muttered, dropping into the passenger seat. Your stomach swam again, but it seemed to be empty enough now that all you got was the suffering.

He drove you in silence for a little. Then, at a red light, looked over at you, that expression as blank as ever.

You were starting to learn his tells, though. His fingers tapped on the gear between you.

You’d made him anxious.

“What happened?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Blacked out,” you said, looking at your knees. “Didn’t mean to. I think some girls invited me along to their place? And then I must have passed out.” The tequila shot girl’s face swam in your mind - this seemed correct.

“Girls?”

You looked at him, surprised. Pieces clicked together.

“You think I called you to get me from a hook-up’s house?” you asked, defensive. “I’m a disaster, but I’m not a bitch.”

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t say that.”

You were both quiet a little longer.

“I’m not… I don’t…” You weren’t sure how to say it. “I know you didn’t ask me not to - and I’m not asking anything from you - but - I don’t…”

“Okay,” he said, stopping your ramble. You looked at him, relieved, so glad he understood. That you didn’t have to say it. “Cool.”

Cool.

If you could without throwing up again, you’d shake your head. He was just so… Vernon.

You were hungover for two days; you even called out of work for one of them. When the headache finally subsided, you told the cat you were never drinking again.

The cat jumped off the bed and trotted away; it might as well have called you a liar.

When the weekend rolled around, you didn’t text Vernon. The shame lay its heavy, clawed foot on top of your phone, leveled you with an even look that said don’t even think about it.

How could you face him again, anyway? Why would he want to see you, after he’d seen the truth so clearly - that you were messy, a mistake, more trouble than any situationship was worth?

Friday night came and went in silence. You were right - he wanted out. You didn’t blame him at all.

Then, Saturday night, a text came through.

you coherent? 😏

You laughed, rolled your eyes, sent back, unfortunately. can we change that?

want to try a different poison tonight?

is that supposed to be flirty?

if you need me to do the hard sell, my offer won’t end you up at a strangers house at 3am

that’s a solid argument

i’ll come get you. need some time?

yeah, gimme 30 min?

cool.

You snorted again. Cool. He was such a dork.

“Thanks for getting me,” you said, when you slid into his passenger seat.

“Can’t let you entertain yourself,” he said, ticking his head to the side like he’d learned his lesson. “You end up without shoes.”

The callback to last weekend made your face heat, and you expected him to lecture you - to tell you to be more careful, that you shouldn’t put yourself in situations like that, that your liver will quit someday.

He didn’t - didn’t bring up anything that happened until -

“Only need me, huh?” he asked, later, pressing so deep into you that you squirm away, delighted when he pulls you back roughly, puts you right back where you’d both rather you be. “No one else does it this good, right?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, half-laughing. “God.” Then he shifted his angle and you repeated yourself, a broken record, god god god, for a whole new reason.

1 yr 7 months ago

Everything was slow and heavy. Vernon’s eyelids lowered and then slid open again, slow… slow. Air army-crawled on elbows and knees into his lungs, slipped out too easily. His blood in his veins trudged; his heartbeat couldn’t whip it into going faster. The ceiling fan above him circled, chasing its tail in an endless loop.

come over.

It must have taken him two hours to type the text. Two hours for it to fly through space - is that how texts send? through space? - to your phone. Two hours for you to get there, to let yourself into his unlocked apartment.

“Took you forever,” he muttered, still watching the ceiling fan.

He was a little out of it, a little bit on another plane. Your hands were cool against his cheeks, thumbs cool as they traced his jawline. For a minute, they felt like the only thing tethering him to earth, keeping him in this room, in this apartment.

“You in there?” Your voice came from far away.

“Yeah.”

He opened his eyes again, and found you hovering above him, light streaming from behind you.

You didn’t mention his red eyes, didn’t tease him for the way his words came out one phoneme at a time. You just pulled your shirt over your head - he may have groaned when the fabric passed your tits, fuck you for showing up without a bra on - and then reached for his hem. Then you lay tight up against him, one hand absently stroking over his chest.

You let him make every first move, let him decide when he’s in his own body again. He kissed you slow, licked into your mouth like it was viscous, marveled in how your skin felt when his hands skated over your back.

It must have been two hours that he kissed you, only that, before finally tugging you to straddle him.

He’d been fucked up when he texted you, but he was feeling clearer now. Clear enough to peel your leggings over your ass, to lift his hips when you tugged on his sweatpants. Clear enough to let out a breath that shuddered embarrassingly when you positioned him at your entrance and sank to the hilt, stilling and tilting to look him in the eyes.

Sometimes Vernon thinks about Giles Corey. He shouldn’t even know about this random piece of American history; he definitely didn’t learn it in school. But sometimes Vernon would procrastinate real work by going to random Wiki articles, and sometimes what he read would stick. 

He remembered this one. During the early Salem witch trials, Giles Corey was tried as a witch, but not hung. Instead, he’d been pressed to death - the stones added one by one to the board over his chest. He was supposed to confess. 

He’d died that way, had been literally crushed to death, one stone at a time.

His last words had been more weight.

That’s how Vernon felt, most days. One stone at a time, pressing on his ribcage. It was never enough to crush him, just enough to make him feel like he couldn’t take a breath, enough to make him feel like his bones might crack and cave and it’s scary - but they never did. Or, they hadn’t yet.

Every day, Vernon woke up, spit at the feet of whatever church was awaiting his confession, and demanded, more weight.

But the stones had felt heavier, today. Some days were like that. Some days felt like hardly any at all. He tried to remember that - the lighter days would come.

He didn’t feel them at all, now. The only weight on his chest was your hands as you leaned your body forward for leverage, riding him at the pace he set with his hands on your hips, guiding you up and back - slow, slow.

“Fuck,” you groaned, eyes squeezing shut and then opening again, blinking quickly. “It’s too - god, I can feel everything - I don’t know if I can - it’s too -”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, reaching up to pull you closer, to bring you chest to chest.

“I need you to move,” you whimpered, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Please, I need you to go faster.”

Vernon swore fiercely as his body obeyed without his permission, feet flattening against his mattress and arms crossing over your back to hold you in place against him. You both gasped, equally shocked at the sudden change.

“More,” you begged. “Please, Vernon.”

More weight, he thought, and then he wasn’t thinking anything because you were wailing, fingers twisting in the sheets next to his shoulders, pulsing around him in dizzying, soul-sucking waves.

Sometimes Vernon thinks being alone will be the stone that kills him.

He almost asked you to stay, after, just to keep it at bay. Almost.

He thought that you might be his new favorite vice.

1 yr, 6 months ago

wyd tonight?

uhhh awkward. i’m. on a date?

why awkward? you’re allowed.

thanks for the permission.

i’m generous, what can i say

dont worry though its nothing. we got set up. its… not going great lol

i understand. hes got tough competition.

Please. 🙄

have fun

im not going home with him. i promise.

prove it.

how?

come here after.

ykw?? i think i will. Next ->

my first svt fic ever!!! thank you so much for being here! i hope you continue to enjoy!

[husbandhoshi]

[5:00 PM]

lee chan never misses a beat.

one of your favorite things to do is watch him. the cocktail shaker turns to liquid gold in his hands, and no matter what terrible remix the dj decides to play for the night, you can never miss the hum of one of his perfect pours.

if you weren't competing for tips, you might say you had a bit of a thing for him.

but who doesn't? on weekends, the music is loud, and you think the easiest place to fall in love is here, at a college bar where vodka runs like water and you can't hear the sound of your own better judgment. truly, it's just a bonus that its star bartender wears the hell out of a button-up.

it's the slow hour, or, as mingyu likes to call it, free money, since all he does in the kitchen is throw shots while frying off the leftover mozzarella sticks before the friday night rush. the bar is empty, and the minutes pass like honey. usually, you prep your station and punt half-baked insults at chan, who isn't above returning the favor.

but today seems different. you watch him fumble with the strainer as he finishes up a mojito, seemingly in slow motion. he's already had to do a few remakes, and you can't remember the last time that's happened.

"think fast."

you toss chan an empty glass, which he nearly drops.

"sheesh," he grumbles. "trying to take my head off and it's not even 7 yet."

"sorry." you grin, and you watch him fight down his dimples as they fold up in return. "you were in a staring match with that poor girl's margarita."

"horrible week." he runs a hand through his hair. "i think i need a drink more than anyone else."

"boo hoo. wipe your tears with your tip money."

chan rolls his eyes at you, and you prepare to double down before it occurs to you that you couldn't keep teasing him even if you wanted to.

the only thing you know about him is, one, that he's old enough for this job, and, two, that he goes to your university. you've tried to guess what he's studying before, but nothing seems quite right—he's too practical for the humanities and not quite miserable enough to be in the sciences. last week, you saw him count a handful of change at least four times, so math was off the table.

regardless, it feels wrong to see chan, seemingly impenetrable to the perils of academia, winded by a bad week at school.

before you can say anything, the lone couple on chan's end of the bar flags him down and orders two off-menu cocktails with a million modifications. you watch the defeat write itself all over his face as he trudges over to you, and you decide it's time for an intervention.

"you," you say, pressing a finger to his chest. "sit. no questions."

chan frowns but acquiesces—he's learned the hard way not to cross you. instead, he takes a seat on the other side of the bartop and watches you make the drinks instead. you've run through these steps too many times to count; everything from the waxy twist of the orange peel to the bell-toll of the stirring spoon is second nature, except now it's also decidedly not. chan's gaze is surprisingly warm and it bothers you.

you slide the two drinks down and put a third in front of your weary coworker, who looks more and more confused by the second.

"drink," you tell him. it's a pint of beer, namely his favorite brand, although you'd rather die than reveal that it is not, in fact, a coincidence that you know this.

he first looks confused, then relieved. then he has the gall to smile at you, and you almost choke on your own heartbeat.

"are you trying to get me too drunk for my shift so you can poach my tips?" he raises an eyebrow before his expression disappears under the lip of the glass. "or is this a set-up? so you can report me for drinking on the job?"

"no and no, although those are good ideas." you bite the inside of your cheek as you piece together what you want to say—honestly, you didn't think you'd get this far. "what class?"

"what?"

you busy yourself with washing the two and a half glasses in the sink so that you don't have to maintain eye contact with him.

"you heard me."

"education studies," he sighs. "we had a three part midterm this week."

"education studies? you want to be a teacher?"

"is that a bad thing?"

no, it isn't. actually, it's the furthest thing from being bad—you picture chan in a too-big cardigan reading the very hungry caterpillar to a room of small children, and it genuinely makes you feel a little bit hungover.

"no, i just..." you search for your next jab at him, but it escapes you. "i didn't expect it, that's all. it...suits you."

"you're an art major, right?"

he says this as you're in the middle of rinsing the same glass for the third time, and you almost break it. "—how'd you know?"

"you always leave your sketchbook in the break room. you're really good, you know." then he holds up his hands like he's being mugged. "n-not that i snooped or anything. you just forget it sometimes, so i try to put it back in your bag after shift if i see it out."

suddenly things make a lot more sense. you've lost track of the times you've walked back to the bar after work thinking you forgot it, only to find it neatly tucked away in your backpack. the mental image of chan agonizing over whether or not to touch your stuff would make you laugh if it wasn't so endearing.

it makes you think about all the other small kindnesses you've allowed each other—the nights where he'd lend you his jacket if the air was cranked too high, or the times you'd cover for him when he'd show up late. or now, with this stupid pint glass you keep refilling and the floaty feeling in your head.

you look up from your nonexistent task to look at him, only to find that he's also looking at you, that he's been looking at you. something in your chest feels like it's being steamrolled, and if you weren't so concerned with swallowing down the heat in your cheeks, you'd notice that he was doing the same.

thankfully, mingyu emerges from the kitchen to ruin the moment. he has nachos in one hand and curly fries in the other, which is, in your opinion, the only acceptable way to do so.

"finally," he says, clapping chan on the back. "you guys have stopped ogling each other and started actually talking!"

your stomach drops, and you think you and chan actually gasp in unison, like you're in a cartoon. mingyu cackles. this is going to be a long night.

[ssinboo]

down bad.

summary: You and your long time bestfriend smoke together

or

in reply to this lovely ask!

pairing: DJ!Bad boy!Vernon x Fem!Reader

word count: 1.6k (8~ minute read)

warnings: drinking, partying, weed, very explicit making out, extremely inaccurate drug use (I have asthma, i have never come even close to a single weed)

a/n: Sooo incredibly thankful for the unending love on my previous fics! The past two months have been so hectic and all your comments gave me so much joy!! I apologise for being M.I.A, but I am working on the second part of As it was! as well as some very abandoned wips!

With a hypnotising smile, Vernon Chwe waltzed into your life like he belonged. A part-time DJ at the place you waited tables during your first semester, he was a womanising, chain smoking, asshole.

He was also your best – read: only, – friend.

You just got each other. his awkward, out of this world kind of humour was just up your alley. It wasn’t uncommon for you to burst out laughing at a stupid meme sent in your chat.

Tonight, he was DJing at a new club, a high-stakes sort of place downtown that had lines that wrapped around the block every Friday night.

This could very well be the moment he will make it to stardom.

Heading straight for the venue after your shift, you make quick work of wading through the crowd to find your bestie. And he’s talking to a guy, looking all important.

You blow him a kiss, which he makes a show out of catching and placing his palm over his lips.

The stubborn butterflies that find your stomach don’t go unnoticed.

You did have a teeny, tiny, itsy, bitsy, little crush on your best friend. Maybe it wasn’t so little, after all. Not when he plagued your mind 24/7 with flirty smirks and caring gestures.

Vernon was a touchy guy by nature, his hands always finding their way to your body; Which wasn’t an issue at first but quickly developed into a problem as you found yourself falling for him.

“Hey, handsome,” You greet him, immediately getting pulled into his arms.

“There’s my girl,” Not a cell in your body can resist his warm words, you were his girl and would always be. Vernon wraps his arm around your neck, kissing your cheek.

You’d picked out his fit for tonight, an all-black ensemble with a knitted black top and cross jewellery, your favourite. But it still messes with your heart to see the chain draped over his collarbones.

“Thought you weren’t comin’.”

“Oh, please, I couldn’t miss your biggest gig yet.”

He smiles, nuzzling against your temple.

“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” The guy he was previously talking to finally makes his presence known.

“Nah…” Vernon laughs, “Man, you know I don’t do relationships– This is my homegirl, my best friend. She’s my ride or die.”

There’s only so many times you can hear those words and still have a reaction.

You force a smile, telling the stranger your name.

He’s a little shorter than Vernon with a slender figure and a defined chest that is visible even through his shirt. Bleached blond hair that falls over his forehead flawlessly and bedroom eyes. God, hot people only hung out with hotter people.

“I’m Chan, nice to meet ya.”

“Chan’s a dancer, you have to see him, man. He’s fucking amazin’” Despite his arm not leaving your shoulders, Vernon emphasises his words with large gestures, sending your head crashing against his chest more than once.

You slap at his arm, smoothing down your hair before turning to acknowledge Chan.

“Well, I’ll keep my eye out for you.”

Chan smiles.

You hear Vernon’s name being called out.

“That’s my cue,” He kisses your hair, and reaches out his hand to fist bump Chan.

“Give em’ hell, pretty boy,” You cheer, watching him walk away.

Before you can even dread the awkwardness of losing your common friend, Chan is easing you into conversation.

“Come on, let me get you a drink? I’ll show you the best spot on the floor.”

He takes you to a corner close enough to the stage where you can see Vernon but not insanely close to the booming speakers. You’re more than happy to have room to breathe in the packed club.

Chan returns with your drinks; he brings you a fruity cocktail with pretty colours and an undertaste you can’t be bothered to figure out.

Vernon is a master at reading a crowd.

He can and will pick out the exact song to fit the mood, he knows by heart every timing to drop the beat and get the best reaction. You always find your body moving against your will when you watch him.

“Do you dance?” Chan leans over, having to scream in your ears over the music.

You shake your head vigorously, denying this mischievous look he bears.

“Come on?” He reaches for your hand and since your drinks have long been discarded, you don’t have an excuse.

Chan escorts you to the floor, where it is a lot more packed than your excluded corner. The blinking LEDs are almost blinding, especially when they follow the beat.

Once you stop caring about your own inability to dance, you realise how right Vernon was: Chan is a fucking dancing machine.

His body is moving in ways you could never imagine someone could, every turn of his hips dripping in precision. Now, with the alcohol simmering in your bloodstream and Chan’s contagious moves, you can’t help but find yourself swaying along with the pounding bass.

Two hours.

That’s how long you’re having fun on the dance floor with Chan to the sound of Vernon’s carefully curated playlist.

You were so enraptured by the ambience, you happened to miss the way Vernon’s eyes did not leave your figures once.

And you think you might have gotten yourself a new friend. The night was so much fun in his presence and as Vernon is walking toward you both, it can only get more fun, right?

You smile, jumping in your place with open arms to congratulate him.

“You killed it!” You exclaim, clinging to his arm.

Vernon is burying himself in your arms, nuzzling at your neck.

“Dude, you are the best DJ they’ve ever had,” Chan taps at his shoulder, joining in on your praise.

“Oh, I’m sure of that!”

“Seriously?” Vernon questions, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He can smell the lingering fruity scent of your drinks.

“Of course!” Chan agrees.

You nod.

“I’ll trust your judgement, then,” He chuckles. “Wanna get outta here?” Vernon turns to you before looking at Chan.

Shrugging, you both look at Chan – Who has the slyest smile ever.

“Oh, hell yeah, I got something for you.”

You weren’t a big smoker. Sure you ‘dabbled’ every now and then, mostly whenever Vernon had some and you were in the mood to relax. OKay, maybe every now and then means twice and the last time, you thought you were going to die because you stood up too fast and got dizzy.

But Vernon and Chan are so into it right now.

Vernon is splayed out on his beaten up couch, laying against you with his legs over the second-hand coffee table you had to gorilla glue back together after it broke during moving.

And Chan is spread over the armchair, blunt between his pointer and thumb as he talks about the artful choreography of Michael Jackson’s thriller – Though, you zoned out minutes ago.

It’s only when Vernon is nudging at your side, offering you the blunt when you wake up.

“I’m not sure…” You whisper quietly, “You remember last time, it was too much.”

Vernon licks at his chapped lips, leaning back straight. He glances at Chan for a second before he stares back at you. “ We can try something else, might be better than pullin’ straight from it.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you trust him.

So when against your better judgement, Vernon brings the burning bud to his lips, chest rising as he pulls, you’re surprised. But he doesn’t inhale or exhale, no.

He reaches for your cheeks, pulling your lips toward his. So close, untouching yet you can feel him so clearly.

The smoke tickles at your lips, stinging at your eyes until you say fuck it and inhale. You feel its warmth at first, following its path through your system, lazily pooling into your lungs with its languid daze.

And you think it’s all he will do, just so you will smoke and that was the plan. But when Vernon watched your eyelids droop above your adoring gaze, he couldn’t hold it anymore.

So he crashes his tongue into your parted mouth, devouring your taste with an unfound hunger; Specially when you’re humming so sweetly into his lips. It’s nothing near a chaste peck. Saliva drips from your connected lips, his grip on your neck tightens, bringing you further into him so he can ravish every bit of your eager tongue.

There’s a heat that burns in your chest, hotter than the blunt he holds between his pointer and thumb. And you melt into the shape of his body, dripping, seeping into every crevice, fingers reaching for his chest, curious touch mapping out every inch of his skin you can grasp.

You’re moaning against his lips, brain hazy under the intoxicating drug that he exudes. You wrap your arms around his neck, closing yourself off to the world and diving deeply into the perfect bubble he has created for you two and leans into you, chest rising and falling into yours.

And when the kiss ends, you’re panting, lips covered in a mixture of your saliva and his, reddened and swollen with his attention. Vernon smiles, running his tongue along your lips.

“Do you feel it?” He whispers, pressing kisses along your jaw.

“Huh?”

Oh, you feel nothing but the bubbling desire that pools along your stomach, burning through your veins with its lingering longing. By kissing you, Vernon has given you a taste of heaven, so how must you go on, knowing what his lips feel like?

You’re so busy with your thoughts of his kisses, you don’t notice the show Vernon makes of running his lips along your neck or the wink he sends Chan.

Vernon liked to say he wasn’t a possessive person, especially when it came to material assets, he wasn’t attached to his laptop or phone, and would happily lend his clothes to friends.

But when it came to you, there weren’t limits to his possessiveness, you were his from the moment you first smiled at him.

“…Fuck,” Chan grunts, looking down at his very obvious hard-on.

[sims4t2bb]

weekly update

Happy Sunday Monday! We hope you've had a great week and wish you only the best in the upcoming one. The update is, as always, under the cut:

— Base Game

Buy Mode - Deco

In our quest to finish listing all Base Game items we have once again reached the limit of how long a single page can be, but no worries - all Decorative items now have their own sub-page right over here. It is now more complete than ever - if we are still missing any items, do not hesitate to send them our way!

Debug

Rosie the Riveting conversion by @nuttydazesublime has been added.

Mounted Anglerfish, Mounted Batfish, Mounted "Captain Fishbones" Bonefish, and Mounted Piranha conversions by @cluedosims have been added.

Fishing Spot conversion by HafiseAzale has been added.

— Expansion Packs

Get to Work

Luxuriant Breeze Double Doors conversion by @earlypleasantview has been added.

Get Together

Low-Fi Mobile DJ Booth and "Turn-Table-Top Tote" DJ Booth conversions by ePSYlord have been added.

High School Years

The Big Picture Ultrawide Computer and Golden Ultrawide PRO Computer conversions by ePSYlord have been added.

Growing Together

Re-upload of @enjatoki's conversion of the Way-to-Play Playmat by @keoni-chan has been added, thanks!

— Game Packs

Vampires

Debug Mounted Vampire Squid by @cluedosims has been added.

[azukisoul]

Translation of HijiGin manga/dj: "We Got Married" by 新飯田 (pixiv) [non-h]

Domestic married shenanigans. Comedy. Like, comedy. I swear this artist is secretly Sorachi.

CLICK HERE FOR MANGA LINK | Out of courtesy to the artist I'm not reposting their art here, please visit the page, refer to the translation as you read along, and show the artist some love!

I do not mind uncredited text reposts but please DO NOT use my translation to scanlate/edit the manga and post the edits. Keep it text only and link to the source.

Downloadable translation on Google Docs

Translation

[page 1] H: Hey. Their first meeting was terrible.

[page 2] Whenever they see each other, they would always fight. But as time passed, they forged a strong bond. Their feelings towards each other started to change, and now, the two of them… …have gotten married. *DING DONG~* Don't think too much about it.

[page 3] (We Got Married)

[page 4] (Morning Routine) Zzz… Krrr…. Zzz… *tick* *Rrrring—* *SMASH* Zzz… zzz….

[page 5] *slides* S: Good morning… H: How many times have I told you!? Stop destroying our alarm clocks! G: Huh!? Like I care! Anyway, you're always so noisy every morning! S: Good morning, Kagura-chan. G: Don't use alarm clocks, then! Wake up on your own!! K: Yeah. Morning. H: Well, thanks to a certain someone's noisy ass snoring I keep not getting enough sleep!! G: What'd'ya say!? My snoring is not that loud! S: Good morning, Sadaharu. Sa: Woof. H: You snore so fucking loud, you know! Also I have sleep apnea! G: Wait, really!? S: Hijikata-san, time's running out. It's almost eight. H: Hey! Don't you have anything I can eat right away!? G: Shuddup! I'm making it right now!

[page 6] *clunk* G: Here.

H: …Hey… What is this… G: Huh? H: I told you before, I… G: What are you saying? Hurry up and eat. H: I told you I only eat rice for breakfast!! G: Huh? I didn't know that. H: Don't we have rice!? G: Stop nagging for rice. I forgot to cook some. G: Come on, just quickly eat that and go. Go eat rice or whatever you want with some girl who fell down from the sky. H: Don't justify this by saying it's fine because Ghi*li characters eat it!!

[page 7] *flip* H: Ah, dammit! There's no time left! *slides* G: Wait! You forgot something, hey!! H: Huh!? *grabs* *SMOOOOOOOOCH* G: Have a safe trip!!! H: See you when I get back!!! *rattles* *slam* S: When'll they stop doing this every morning? K: I know, uh-uh.

[page 8] (Husbands' Quarrel) G: I don't give a shit about you anymore! I'll be going back home!! H: Don't say anything and go then!! It's easier that way!! *SLAM* *SLIDES* G: This is my home though!! H: Oh!! You're right!!

[page 9] (Always Saying This or That) Y: Huff… huff… huff… *whoosh* *whoosh* Y: Huff… huff… huff… G: Are you always doing that? Y: Aaaahh! B-Boss!? Y: Why are you here!? G: I'm just delivering something, that's it. Y: Huh?

[page 10] G: Here. G: That damn Hijikata ran off without it this morning. Seems like it's something important? Y: This is… yeah, it's an important document! Y: But the vice chief is in a meeting right now… G: It's fine. Just pass it to him later. G: Gin-san went all this way to deliver it, so tell him he should be grateful. Y: Ah… Boss, hold on! Y: Wanna come with me for a bit?

[page 11] G: It's sho good!! Sho damn good!! *munch munch munch* Y: We got it as a gift and had leftovers… G: Sho good!!! Y: I'm glad you like it. G: Man, you guys sure have it good. Getting good food and high pay… Y: W-Well… It's really not as good as you think… Y: Our job is just that rough, so… G: Speaking of job, G: he's been coming home late recently, is he busy? Y: Huh? Ah… Vice chief duties have indeed been particularly busy lately. G: Hmmm… I see. *sips*

[page 12] Y: It's kind of… still a little bit hard to believe. G: What is? Y: Your marriage. Y: Never in my dreams had I thought that the vice chief and Yorozuya's boss would be bound together in that way… Y: Ah, but I don't think it's weird or anything! Y: I really sincerely wish you two the best… G: I get what you're trying to say. G: Well, I never thought things would turn out like this, either. Y: But, really. When you told us you were getting married, I was so surprised.

[page 13] H: We have… H: …decided to get married.

Y/K/O: HUHHHHHHHHHH!?

[page 14] Y: W-What do you mean!? K: Huh? What? Married…!? O: Are you saying this while understanding what's between both of your legs? H: I know what you're trying to say. H: It's true that we're both men. H: What I'm saying is, I want to be with him so much that stuff like that doesn't matter to me. K: To-Toshi… Are you serious…? H: Yeah. K: You're really getting married? H: Yeah. K: With the Yorozuya? H: Yeah. K: You're fine marrying him!? H: Yeah. K: Yorozuya… you're also fine with this? G: Sure, I'm fine, whatever. K: … *smack!*

[page 15] K: I understand. K: If you're saying this now, I'm sure you've properly given it a lot of thought and consideration. K: We're not in the place to tell you anything. K: Toshi… Be happy. H: Kondou-san…! H: Thank you… H: Thank you…! G: *yawns*

[page 16] Y: … Y: It's been half a year since then, huh… Y: Honestly, Boss, I thought that even though you married him, you don't really care for the vice chief that much, but… Y: That's actually not the case, huh? G: Huh!? G: I don't feel anything for him! I only think of him as my ATM, okay!? Y: Naaah, even if you're always saying this or that, Y: you're always concerned about him and worry about him, right? Y: I thought, I guess you really do love him. G: Lo-…!? G: It's not…

[page 17] G: It's nothing like that at all… H: Hrrrgghackh!? Ha: Vice chieeef!? What happened!? Ha: The vice chief suddenly coughed out blood!! H: Just now… I received signals of Gintoki's love… *faints* K: Toshiiiiiiiiii!!!! G: Sometimes I regret it, though. Y: … K: Pull yourself togetheeeer!!

[page 18] (Wedding Ring) Y: By the way, you two don't wear wedding rings? H: I bought a pair, but my job is like this, so. H: Better if I don't wear it. It'd be bad if I lose it. G: I-I also… put away mine… uh-uh… G: Somewhere. H: Hey, did you lose your ring!? H: No wait, it's you we're talking about. You pawned it off, didn't you!! G: I’m not that awful of a person, okay!! I can find it if I look!! Probably!!

[page 19] (Demon Wife) M: Alriiiight! I'm treating all of you today, M: so go ahead and order anything you want! ♀1: Ahh, Toshi-san, you haven't been coming here, so I've been missing you! ♀2: Me too! ♀2: Come on, drink up ♡ H: Nah… I'm good… O: Hijikata-san, what's wrong? You're sweating bullets. H: I mean, I should be sweating if I'm at a place like this. H: Even though I'm here because the old man forced me to, H: if he finds out, I'm screwed… O: Yeah… You're right.

[page 20] K: Tosshi is late tonight, uh-uh. S: He's probably busy working again. G: Yeah, probably. *chime* G: Who is it? (A phone Hijikata makes him carry ->) *flip*

[page 21] H: Nothing happened and I was there as a part of work, so I should just act like usual, right… H: I'm home… G: Welcome back! *peeks* *ah!* G: You're home late. H: A-Ah, it's because of work, y'know… G: Hmmm… I see. G: Hijikata-kun, you're tired from work, so… G: Do you want dinner? G: Or a bath? G: Or… G: A bloodshed?

[page 22] *step step step step* H: Heeeeyy!! What's this all of a sudden! Why are you so clearly trying to kill me!? *step step step step* G: It's no use playing dumb!! Okita-kun contacted me earlier…

[page 23] G: …and sent me this picture! *bam* (From: Okita. Subject: Having fun) H: Sougooooooooooo! G: How was it!? How was the alcohol poured by pretty ladies, hm!!? G: It definitely tasted good, huh!? Man, I'm so jealous, you bastard!! H: That's what you're jealous about!? H: The old man forced me to come with him! H: He's my superior, so I had no choice, okay!? G: Well, I guess there's no choice if it's a superior… G: Looking at it again, you clearly looked like you hated it anywa…

[page 24] G: You didn't hate it at aaaaaall!! *GRRAAAHHHH* H: It's not that! It's because I was drunk! H: I wasn't enjoying it at all! G: …Then… G: You should've at least contacted me beforehand!!! *whoop* *rattle* H: Alright, then I'm sorry for not contacting you!! H: My bad!! *clink* *clang*

[page 25] H: Ah!! H: Heey! Help me convince him!! *PUNCH* H: Why is no one in this house on my side!? S: That's not the case at all. *pat* H: Glasses…! S: As long as you keep putting your money into Yorozuya, I'll be on your side. G: Alright. Good job, you two. S: Um, Gin-san… To the point of telling us not to be on his side, isn't that too much… G: It's fine. He should have this much done to him.

[page 26] (Wife-Bragging) G: Here. H: Huh? H: …. G: Come on, hurry up and take it.

[page 27] H: Wait, wait, wait! H: What are you doing here!? G: What'd'ya mean, "what"? I'm making lunch. H: Lunch…? What happened to our usual lunch lady? G: Ah, about that… G: Seems like all the old ladies at the barracks had a cold all at once, so I was asked to make lunch G: by the gorilla. H: If that's the case, you should've told me that this morning… ♂: Boss! ♂1: The lunch was absolutely delicious! ♂2: Thanks for the meal! G: Sure. H: ….

[page 28] Ha: Yorozuya's boss is amazing, huh. Y: Why suddenly say that? Ha: I mean, not only that he can be said as the strongest when it comes to swordsmanship, Ha: but he's even also good at cooking. Ha: Isn't he perfect? Ha: To add to that… Ha: When you get a good look at him, he's also quite good looking, right? Ha: Although I don't swing that way. Y: I totally get that! Y: Ah, this miso soup is good. *sips* *SLAM*

[page 29] Ha/Y: Vice chieeeeef! *sits* Ha/Y: Shit, here comes the hassle-maker! H: Huh? This tastes different than how he usually makes it. Y: O-Oh, really… Ha/Y: He's trying to brag about how he eats his cooking all the time! H: Usually it goes down the throat easier. H: Today, it's like, thicker, or like, saltier… *CRASH* G: Don't eat it if you're going to complain about it!! Ha/Y: He has a point. Y: V-Vice chief, are you alright? H: No big deal. H: It's always like this, you see. It's his way of showing affection, you see. Ha/Y: He's still saying that.

[page 30] Ha: I guess the vice chief is the one being lead by the nose, huh? Y: He's walking all over the vice chief, huh? Y: Hm!? *hides* Ha: What's wrong? Y: It's the boss. Y: He's coming into the vice chief's room. Y: Is the boss going to yell at him again? Heh heh. H: Gintoki! G: Hey. ….

[page 31] H: ! H: What's wrong? G: …Something we don't usually do… H: Huh? G: Usually, there's Shinpachi and the others, or you'd be away at work, so… G: …I tried doing it. H: I see. H: You're right. Ha/Y: The ending is pretty wholesome, thoooough!!!!!? (end)

[page 32] I released this book in 2015, but I came up with this concept 8 years ago… (I drew it on my drawing blog) The wife who would become Shiroyasha in fights. Hijikata-kun, who in fact wasn't enjoying his time with the girls, but was actually bragging about his wife. H: My wife… H: Then, he's like… Thank you to everyone who has read this book!

[odue-sp]

Alban Knox... I saw a yandere clip of him... Forgive me.

Alban Knox x Mute Male Reader

Alban glared at the small group crossing his safe space. M/n was mute, something everyone knew and didn't bother to try and make him speak. Alban was greedy though, he would always corner the male alone, trying to get him to speak or laugh. Anything.

"Careful, senpai!" A muffle of a shout escaped the mutes mouth as he grabbed the shirt of a familiar blue haired dj who screamed at both thenshouting and the ball hitting his kouhai. "Eh! Sorry!" Another shouted before shock hit everyone at the situation.

Alban's eyes went dull as he watched everyone gush over hearing the voice for the first time. Alban was greedy. M/n was a diamond that was for everyone, a f/c gem that he wished could be locked away...

"Neko-chan?" Yugo asked confused as his genmate was suddenly by them, his glare shot through Yugo who shuddered at the coldness. "M/n, come with me. I need help!" He chirped happily. The two left behind the group who looked shocked and worried. They've never seen Alban like that before. "Uh... Did I do something wrong, Sonny?" He asked Sonny who only smiled teary eyed. "He's grown."

"Could you bring me that over there?" Alban asked acting troubled as he tried to pick up a few boxes. A small hum echoed before M/n took the boxes. Alban stared in fake shock before smiling innocently. "Woah! What a strong kouhai I have!"

You seem flustered. Alban smiled as he watched your back with a possessive look. "Otouto." Sonny leaned down ruffling his hair, a similar look. "Onii, can you help me," he pointed at M/n.

"I want him."

Sonny stared before giving a loving smile.

"Of course! Anything for you, Alban!”

Part two soon. Maybe.

[ultimateluckystudent-writes]

Your Face Is Red (It's Not the Sunburn)

Summary: It's Summer, and you know what that means! Wearing your swimsuits to the lake, road trips with your classmates, and being trapped on top of your mortified crush's hard-on. I hope you packed an outfit that says 'sorry for making you accidentally cum'!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags/Themes: , Nagito Komaeda/Reader, Extra Shy and Nervous Komaeda, Mega-Virgin Komaeda, Humiliation Kink, Sub!Nagito, Dom!Reader, Femdom, Reader's Kind of Mean but Girlboss, Slight Exhibitionism, Roadtrip!, Non-Despair!AU

Content Warnings: Accidental Orgasm/Sex, Female Anatomy on Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Public Sex, Under-Negotiated/Accidental Kink, Accidental Sex

A/N: I can't stop writing bitchy, femdom reader and horny, nervous Nagito it's an affliction. Also, I came up with this in one night, this was supposed to be a drabble and I lost control like Two Bros lol. Also, I love mom friend Mahiru and dad friend Hajime *mwah*

Also (last one I promise) here are some more titles I came up with. They get worse as they go on:

Road Trip Travails (and Other Reasons to Pack Sunblock/Thank God for Sunscreen),

You're Really Hot (It's 90, Lose the Jacket),

Forecast Calls for Sunny Skies (And Bumpy Roads)

Get Your White, Sticky Cream on Me (I Forgot My Sunblock)

READ ON AO3

Nobody else had even wanted to sit next to Komaeda, much less on top of him. Being in half-heartedly concealed swimsuits only made it worse. The luggage overflowed onto the seat next to it, all the way in the back, so it meant that someone had to draw sticks. Whoever got the shortest would have to sit in the back next to it all. Nagito drew it with a rueful smile. However, by the time all the supplies were in, you all realized that you were short one more seat.

“We can’t have any more people up front, that’s way too dangerous.” Mahiru frowned.

“We’ve already got four people in the middle seats.” Hajime sighed.

“The back seats are pretty spacious.” Kazuichi shrugged, and it seemed everyone seemed to know what that meant within the same split second. You all turned to look at Komaeda. He was already looking at the floor, picking at a loose thread on the sleeves of his jacket he insisted on taking despite the baking summer sun. It had begun to slip off of him, slumping around his elbows like his bare shoulders in his underconfident stance.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. Kazuichi scoffed audibly. You all knew he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t a sort of class trip, and you were urged by Chiaki. However, you were secretly grateful. You knew you’d be just as much of a pariah if you admitted the many friendly moments you had shared with him after classes and in empty hallways. Or how badly you were hoping he’d take off the shirt and let you rub sunscreen on him when you got there. You’d even caved and brought an extra bottle of the lotion kind with you. Just in case.

Around you, everyone had begun to squabble about who would be sitting in Komaeda’s lap. Hajime and Mahiru were already splitting the drive, Akane and Kazuichi were arguing about who between them was smaller (it was definitely Kazuichi), and Ibuki and Sonia weren’t much help. After a moment of this, you realized you were tired already, and the drive hadn’t even begun.

“Everybody shut the fuck up!” You shouted over them. “It’s fine, Komaeda can sit in my lap, can we just hurry up already!”

“Wh- wh- what?” Ibuki gasped, like some sort of DJ. “But Nagi-chan will totally crush you!”

“It’s true, you’re probably better off the other way around.” Hajime mused, clearly sizing you two up. You felt weirdly pleased about the admission.

“I know it must be disgusting to be so near me already,” Komaeda said. He couldn’t even meet your eye. You couldn’t tell if that pink flush on his face was from the sun, or the prospect of it all. ‘Mega-virg.’ You thought to yourself. “I wouldn’t want to be an encumbrance to top it off.”

“I literally don’t care! Just get in!” You groaned, shoving him towards the car. He gave a small yelp and clambered into the back ungracefully, your insistent hands forcing him forwards. He ended up wedged between the middle seats and luggage, stuck between them until you pulled him out with a massive sigh. You couldn’t have anyone think you were too eager for this, after all, least of all Komaeda. He was totally red by the time he was in, but now you knew it was from embarrassment. You slid in after him and sat down on his lap with no fanfare.

As you suspected, Komaeda’s legs were bony and slightly uncomfortable. You shifted, trying to find a spot where he didn’t dig into you, until you realized what you were doing.

“Sorry.” You shrugged, turning to glance back at him.

“It’s okay.” He mumbled. He managed to continue to avert his gaze, even this close to you. As everyone else got in and got settled, he began to tug the seatbelt down.

“Nuh-uh, no way.” You caught his wrist and stopped him in the air. ‘It’s… pretty small.’ You couldn’t help thinking. “We’re already crammed in back here, I’m not having this thing choke me on top of it.”

“I understand, but, ah- my luck-” He stammered. He didn’t even move to free his hand. You decided to take pity on him.

“Fine, whatever. But we gotta adjust so this thing isn’t bothering me the whole time.” You didn’t wait for a response before you were pulling the seatbelt on, and moving around on his lap trying to find a better spot. You ended up pressed front to back, his chin having to rest on your shoulder as you leaned against him. ‘At least this is comfy. I wonder if he’ll say anything? Pfft, yeah, right. Human doormat Komaeda Nagito complaining about getting cozy with an Ultimate. I’m surprised he hasn’t creamed his pants yet.’ “There, that’s better.” Sure enough, when you looked back up at him, his eyes were wide and nervous but he didn’t seem unhappy.

“I- um-”

“Alright, everybody ready to head out?” Mahiru asked from the front seat. Akane and Kazuichi cheered way too loud for such a confined space. “Cool, let’s hit the road then.” She nudged Hajime and he pulled out of the parking space.

In front of you, they rolled the windows down as they sang along to the radio, chatted, and laughed away. You and Komaeda, on the other hand, were quiet. He seemed content looking out the window and listening, though you supposed it wasn’t like he could do much else. You put in your earbuds and listen to your own music while you scrolled through your phone.

You didn’t notice the road becoming progressively bumpier until one jolt caused you to knock one of your earbuds out.

“What the fuck guys, where are we driving? Pre-civilization?” You groused.

“I told Hinata to take the regular road.” Mahiru half-sang. You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture the focused scowl on Hajime’s face everyone knew him by.

“This ways a short cut! I’ve taken it a million times! We’ll get there thirty minutes earlier-” Another bump cut him off.

“Woah!” Ibuiki giggled. “It’s like a roller-coaster!”

“It’s not that bad!” Hajime protested. The bumps eventually calmed down, but the road was still rough. As you drove along it, you could feel the way the uneven path jostled the car. Soon you had to put down your phone and quiet your earbuds so you wouldn’t get carsick.

Everyone else had similarly calmed down. While they still chatted within the rows, the whipping air and hum of the drive were too loud to hear much between them at all. You could barely make out the pop song from the speakers in the middle row. Only twenty minutes into the hour-long drive, but you resigned yourself to looking out the window as time passed.

It was at the next larger bump that you realized something was up with Komaeda.

As you bounced a bit on his lap, you could have sworn you heard the smallest whimper come from him, more a squeak than anything. It sounded pained, and you almost apologized, until a thought crossed your mind. You gave no hint you’d noticed anything as you stretched and shifted on his lap, scooting your hips closer to his-

It was just as you’d suspected. At some point, Komaeda had gotten completely hard.

You almost moaned out loud with the realization. The rush of arousal was so sudden it almost stunned you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you forced yourself not to move at all on top of it, no matter how badly you wanted to begin grinding against him. ‘Holy fuck, he’s hard, he’s hard, he’s hard. What do I do? Do I say something? Would that make it more awkward? What a pervert! Is he getting off on this?’ You looked at his expression out of the corner of your eye, expecting to find him looking down at you already, that filthy look he got on his face when he began to ramble or something similar. But he was staring quite hard out the window at nothing in particular. The muscles in his jaw were clenched. You finally noticed how rigid he was under you, and realized you hadn’t heard Komaeda be silent for this long ever. He almost looked like he was going to cry.

‘Aww, poor thing. He’s hoping I won’t notice. Too bad.’ With no further hesitation, you arched your hips back into him hard, leaning your torso onto the backs of the seats in front of you. You had positioned your pussy right against his dick, knowing he’d feel even more heat now through the thin layers of your swimsuits. Komaeda gasped, the pretty noise torn from his lips with the move. The car’s ride made the seat practically vibrate, and each second bounced you on his lap even as you sat completely still. You could feel his cock twitch and throb with the new feeling. You were glad nobody could see your face, because you worried you’d start drooling soon.

“You okay?” You asked casually, taking the opportunity to look directly at him. His hand was by his mouth. You were sure he’d begun to bite down on it.

“Mhm.” He managed a shaky smile despite his heavy breathing. He even gave a weak thumbs up. You noticed the bite marks in the flesh between his thumb and pointer finger at once. He was so preoccupied with hiding his… condition that he didn’t even seem to notice you’d already found out, or suspect your teasing at all.

“Mmkay. Let me know if anything gets uncomfy.” You turned back to the front and dropped the calm mask at once. The position had him grinding just as hard against your clit. You knew your bottoms were going to be soaked through. You continued in the same silence, though now you had something new to focus on: keeping your breath even as you noticed every move he made. His other hand was curled into a fist by his thigh so tight his knuckles had gone white. His foot was tapping rapidly against the floor. After just a couple more minutes, he had begun to let out a choked sort of sigh with every turn, shift, or movement. For all the hums and nonverbal noises he usually made, it was clear he was doing his best to be completely silent and not disturb you. The idea of him trying to be so good while he was hard and probably aching and humiliated under you almost made you give yourself up.

When your back got tired, you leaned back up against him. Your bodies were now flush with each other. You felt his heart hammering against his chest. Each labored breath of his was now right against your ear. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and watched his fingers sort of spasm. You had to give it to him, if you weren’t so busy thinking about each new dirty item that had replaced your previous mental vacation itinerary during the ride, you would have certainly given yourself away. If you had been distracted the whole time, or maybe didn’t know what a hard-on felt like, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the weird behavior.

“Ah- um- (F/N)?” His trembling hands tapped your thigh gently. ‘Look at how bad he’s forgotten himself! Addressing me by my first name- he’d never do that. How absolutely precious!’ “I- I- Could, um, could you-”

“Hmm? Oh, do you want me to-” You shifted on your seat once more. This time, you turned yourself to the side as much as you could, your knees pressed up against the luggage. His hard on pressed into your bare thigh. You could see his face like this, petrified and desperate. He’d begun to sweat just a bit. ‘He’s so gross.’ You thought lovingly, your eyes tracing a bead of it down his too-prominent Adam’s apple and past his sharp, pale collarbones. He held his hands up, as if terrified to touch you anymore. “It’s alright.” You lowered them for him, one onto the seat by his leg and your ass, the other on your leg. “There, that better?”

His expression made it clear that the answer was yes, and he wanted to die about it.

“Well, I, uh-” His nose scrunched with another bump. One hand was now pulling at your clothes, the other gripping your upper thigh. He didn’t even seem to notice anymore. You finally gave in. He looked like he was going to combust or faint. Your careful mask melted at once into a knowing smile as you shushed him softly. He seemed entranced as you straightened up to bring your mouth as close to his ear as you could get it.

“You don’t want them to know too, do you?” You murmured. A strangled moan caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” He mewled, giving up all pretenses at once. He squirmed under you, hips stuttering up as he ground against you in pathetic, jerky, inexperienced movements. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” His voice spilled from his swollen, bitten lips, and his eyes were shut tight. Even his torso curled into yours, his head bowed down by yours. There was no warning but a deep inhale before he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and his cock twitched against you in time with his hummingbird heartbeat as he spilled his orgasm into his shorts.

He shuddered as you began to play with the hair at the nape of his neck soothingly, cradling him against yourself. You wanted to shush his remaining noises, to tell him he did a good job, to call him yours and coo at how pretty he was, but the moment felt too delicate, too precarious-

The blaring sound of the horn made you both jump at once.

“CHIAKI-CHAN!” Mahiru shouted out the open window at the cabin you approached. “WE’RE HERE!”

Akane and Ibuki cheered. Kazuichi hopped over several laps in his rush to get out, holding his stomach like he was going to be sick. Sonia clapped and thanked Hajime like he was her personal driver before sliding out delicately. Hajime yawned and shook his head to clear his drowsiness as he got out. Mahiru folded up the map they hadn’t used and tucked it into the dashboard. Before you knew it, they had forgotten both the two of you and the luggage as they greeted everyone else there.

“They left the seats up.” You scowled out the window to no avail.

“Oh, I, uh, think I can do it from here!” Komaeda said, too eager to be of help. He unbuckled the seat belt and began to reach over you.

“Wait, no let me just-” You tried to get off of him the best you could to give him room to pull the latch that would lower the seats and let you out. 

“Sorry! I think I can-”

“It’s okay, but you-”

“Do you think you could-”

“Ow! Your jacket is caught-”

“Ah!”

“Fuck!”

In a tumble of limbs, the seats came down all at once and the two of you fell back onto them and into each other painfully. You had just opened your eyes again after the crash as the door opened, blinding you once more with the bright sun.

“Hey! What were you two doing back there?” Kazuichi squawked. When you could see again, you realized the position the two of you had landed in. One of Komaeda’s arms was trapped under your back, pressing your faces just inches away from each other’s, and your foot had gotten caught in the handle of a suitcase behind you, wrapping your leg around his waist. Komaeda was only holding himself up with the arm he’d caught himself with, the rest of him pressed up against you.

“I- It’s not-” You stammered as more and more eyes of your classmates had turned towards you at Kazuichi’s accusatory voice.

“How shameful my luck must be for you.” Komaeda sighed, already pulling himself up. “Don’t be silly, Soda-kun, nobody would allow me to disgrace them in such a way.” He chuckled and shook his head at the prospect as he got out. “I’m just too incompetent to even get us out of the car. Such a simple task, and yet-”

“Ugh, god, shut up! You’re right, I’d be an idiot to think anyone would do that sort of thing with you.” Kazuichi looked disgusted.

“Get your mind out of the gutter!” You snapped at him, grateful for the new target Komaeda had supplied you with. “You’re such a pervert, Soda!” You made sure to say it louder than necessary, making everyone’s gaze turn toward him instead.

“Eewww, Pervuichi’s at it again!” Hiyoko cried, always happy to pull out one of her nicknames. 

“They wouldn’t have been trapped like that if you’d remembered to let them out!” Mahiru scolded him. “You were in the middle, you should have been the last one out!”

“Huh? What? Wait!”

As squabbling picked up once more, reminding you of how you had entered the car, Komaeda extended his hand with a smile. His other hand held his jacket by his stomach, over his front. You felt much more grateful for the eyesore. Nobody noticed as you rummaged around for your backpack or when you finally tugged a surprised Komaeda away with a mischievous smile.

“C’mon, let’s head down to the lake already. We’re gonna need an excuse for being all wet already.” You laughed as he nodded quickly in response, until his face fell.

“We’ll have to be quick, unfortunately, my skin burns quite easily-”

“Whoo-hoo!” To his confusion, you gave a cheer at that. ‘Thank you Summer gods! Thank you SPF 100+!’ “Don’t even worry, you have no idea how prepared I am for this. Best vacation ever!”

[chanscase143]

just a little thought about our lovely Chan…

imagine you both just started dating a few weeks ago and he invites you to the Birthday of a family member… Boy would be so happy when you agree to be his plus one! He would hold your hand the whole time to make sure you feel comfortable. Would probably tell the DJ to play one of your favorite songs and dance with you to it. He would get clingy and giggly when he drank a little. and boy does it get cuddly when the party is over and you go home together. He is for sure not letting go of you. whines when you go get change in the bathroom and is the happiest when you cone back to bed and he can finally cuddle you again. Chan would be really happy that you are getting along so well with his family. And trust me… you‘ll wake up to Chans arms still having the tight grip around you.

[moonlit-stay]

Kinktober 2022: Day 6

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Pairing: Minho x Female Reader

Kink: Thigh Riding

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Soft!Dom Minho, Sub!Fem reader, established relationship, dirty talk, thigh riding

Please let me know if I missed anything

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Color(s) Of This Fic: Sky Blue and Light Green <3

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If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this fic. This fic contains inappropriate content and is strictly 18+ 

Everything in not only this event, but all of my work in general is consensual. Even if not stated within the work.

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Enjoy :)

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The sun shines bright and warm, accompanied by the cool, soothing breeze as you and Minho load everyone's personal bags into the back of the van.

After all the bags are loaded, you and Minho stand side by side, watching as each member quickly piles into the van. Chan being the designated driver, and Jeongin hurriedly calling shotgun, fighting with Seungmin before he swiftly jumps in the front seat, locking the door and sticking his tongue out at Seungmin through the window.

Minho walks toward the van, quickly scanning the inside before turning to you with a slight chuckle.

"What?" You ask, mirroring his smile as he approaches you.

"There's only one seat left. The one all the way in the back." He explains with a smirk, looking over your features to try and read how you feel about the situation.

"That's ok! We can share the seat if you're ok with it." You reply, looking up to meet his eyes.

"I mean, considering we're in a relationship, it makes more sense for us to share a seat then any of the other members." He reasons, watching as you nod in response.

With that, you both make your way into the van and all the way to the back. Minho sits down, making himself comfortable before pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your middle.

After everyone has found their seats for the trip, Chan begins the journey, quickly making Jeongin the DJ for the trip and asking him to play some music. Everyone cheers in excitement at his song choice before loudly singing along.

The next few hours were full of smiles and laughter, loud and sometimes obnoxious singing, the occasional voice cracks, and pictures being taken of one another.

The nine of you stop at a rest stop, yourself and Felix being the chosen two to run in and get snacks for the rest of the trip while everyone else walked around a bit to stretch their legs.

After buying snacks and stretching, everyone loads back into the van, you being the last to enter so you can hand out snacks to everyone else. The van fills with sounds of thanks for you and Felix for the snacks before the loud music resumes and the van continues on its route.

You sit back down on Minho's lap, handing him his snacks before ripping open the bag of your own. You happily munch on your snacks as you stare out the window, admiring the beautiful scenery.

"It's pretty here." You tell Minho, leaning back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

Minho hums in agreement, subtly shifting you to one of his legs as he slots his thigh between your own, his eyes never once leaving your form. His actions don't seem to faze you as you continue to explain to him the things you think are pretty from your view out of the window.

You move from your place on Minho's chest, leaning forward to grab for your snacks before shoving some into your mouth. Minho's hands rest at your waist holding you steady as he bounces his leg that you're sat on, watching as you nearly choke.

"You ok, baby?" He asks, a shit eating grin on his face as you glare back at him.

"Peachy." You reply, drinking some water and putting your snacks aside.

Minho bounces his leg again, feeling you tightly grab ahold of his thigh that you're not sat on before he drags you back against his thigh.

You let out a quiet gasp in response, your other hand reaching up to grip his forearm as he starts dragging your center back and forth against his thigh.

"Min, we can't do this here." You whisper back to him, the fear of being caught by one of the boys that were sitting just a few feet from the two of you clouding your thoughts.

"Sure we can, baby. You just have to be quiet." He explains with a smirk.

He resumes his movements, altering between slowly dragging you back and forth on his thigh, and holding you down against the muscle as he bounces his leg continuously.

You bite down on your bottom lip, holding back noises of pleasure that so desperately want to spill from your lips. Your eyes dart around the van, wanting to make sure no one had caught on to what you and your boyfriend were up to.

"Relax, baby. They can't see us that well back here. Especially now that the sun is setting." He gently soothes, noticing your slight panic every few minutes.

He feels you relax against him before he starts to drag you against his thigh with more force. He flexes the muscle of his thigh against you, feeling your grip on him tighten as you quickly clamp your hand over your mouth.

"Look at my baby. Getting off on my thigh while all of my members are sitting mere feet from us." He whispers to you, feeling you jolt against him when he starts to drag you against him just a little bit quicker.

Your breathing is heavy and you're doing everything in your power to hold back moans as your high approaches. You reach back, grabbing a fistful of Minho's shirt, gripping the fabric so tight your knuckles turn white as you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Min, c-close." You quietly warn, feeling your legs start to shake as the knot in your stomach comes dangerously close to unraveling.

"Come on, baby. it's ok, cum for me." He encourages, bouncing his leg while he continues to drag you against his thigh.

That's all it takes for the knot in your stomach to unravel as you cum on Minho's thigh with a muffled moan.

You lean back against him, desperately trying to catch your breath as you feel Minho press kisses along your neck.

"See? That wasn't so bad now, was it?" He asks against your skin.

"You sure they didn't see?" You ask, peering up at him through your lashes.

Minho looks past you to his members who are all still singing their hearts out and munching on their snacks. They laugh at Jisung who was putting on a showstopping performance as he sings his lungs away, Hyunjin occasionally joining him as they pour their all into their performance. Minho chuckles at the sight, you following suit before he peers down at you.

"You know? Something tells me we were just fine."

-

Main Masterlist

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

-

*·°Author's Note°·*

A lot of the details in this work are entirely inspired by the SKZful Days in Jeju [SKZ CODE] episodes.

Bless those videos for the inspiration <33

-

°·*Taglist*·°

@kpophubb @whatudowhennooneseesyou @skzgallll

Send me a DM or an ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

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·°*Other Tings*°·

©All rights reserved to Moonlit-Stay. Reposting, modification, translation, and plagiarism of any kind is NOT tolerated. Please notify me if you see any work similar to my own.

Released: October 6th, 2022

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Please reblog my works. Share your thoughts if you'd like, even if it's just a simple keyboard smash.

I read every caption, tag, reply, ask, and dm. Feedback is what motivates me to continue to create content <3

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

The drink is on me (I want your body on me too)

pairing: bartender!Chan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint hard enough

warnings: strangers to lovers(?), alcohol consumption (just for the fun, nobody is tipsy), implications of sexual activities

summary: you find yourself in a bar during New Year's Eve, single as fuck. But would you look at that, the hot bartender in front of you is single too.

Author's note: I don't know how this exactly manifested but here we are lmao. A big thank you to @flowerwonu and @bitchlessdino for giving me the necessary push to not drop this idea😩 with possibly a part two​

Your eyes scan the space around you, noticing the awkwardly hanging garlands, colorful lights and the semi-drunk people dancing around, mindlessly waiting for the countdown to begin.

And you're sitting on the barstool, your finger dancing around the edge of your glass, the blood moon cocktail resting in it.

Not a very slayful main protagonist moment of you, to be honest.

"Cheers to me, I guess", you sigh and raise your glass in the air, downing the alcoholic remnants in one go, setting the now empty glass down on the marble counter.

"For a New Year's eve party, you don't look very happy and jolly".

The source of the voice attracts your attention and you raise your head, your eyes widening at the very much pleasant sight in front of you.

You can only see the torso of the bartender, but the white collared shirt, along with the straps around his shoulders and the undone bowtie is enough to show that he's broad as fuck.

And don't even start about his face, God.

"Um, hello? Do I reach you?", he speaks again and you shake your head lightly, snapping yourself out of whatever trance you were put in.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good", you stutter, "Just...weird thoughts". "Weird thoughts or did the cocktail hit you right in the head?", he jokes, cleaning a glass with a towel. "There's two scenarios: One, that your cocktail isn't of good quality and two, that your bartending skills aren't the best", you retort and the man scoffs, letting out a low laugh.

"Or three, your alcohol tolerance is childishly low", he looks straight in your eyes, "But you don't seem to feel dizzy, so I guess it's not the case", he adds, setting the glass down and the towel, "So, what's the real reason?".

"I broke up two weeks ago", you start talking, "I had no intention of getting here today, some of my friends dragged me because according to them, I 'needed an outlet' after what happened", you keep talking, all while the bartender's hands are busy mixing another cocktail.

"Are you even listening to me?", you ask him, but he doesn't reply - he just puts another blood moon cocktail in front of you, a grin plastered on his face.

"Conversations like those need two things to continue: alcohol and a faithful listener", he leans over the counter, rolled up sleeves revealing his toned forearms, "and I can give you both", he grins, making your stern facade break into a grin as well.

You reach for your purse to fish out a couple of bucks to pay for the drink, but his hand softly rests on your wrist to stop you. "The drink is on me, beautiful", "Is that what you tell to all the single girls you're serving?", "Only the ones who look like they could murder people on the spot during a New Year's eve party", he adds and the both of you share a hearty laugh, lightening the atmosphere.

He pours himself a drink, carefully listening to your story, some details similar to his own case, although he has been single for a longer time than you. The moments pass in a blur, far more interesting and....fun than you thought they would be - maybe this party isn’t as terrible as you made it out in your head.

“The countdown is starting!”, you hear the dj yell through the microphone and people start swarming towards the deck, getting ready for the big moment, the end of the year and the beginning of the new one nearing close.

Ten.

“Aren’t you going to join them?”, he asks, “Nah, too many people gathered in one spot”, you laugh.

Nine.

“Besides....”

Eight.

“I’m having more fun here with you”.

Seven.

“Hmm, is that so”, he leans over the counter, eyes studying your face.

Six. Five. Four.

“Are you having second thoughts?”, you raise your eyebrow teasingly and he smirks.

Three. Two. One.

As soon as the crowd screams “Happy New Year!”, his lips are on yours, slowly moving against each other, his hand cupping your cheek. Your eyes shoot up in surprise, but the butterflies dancing in your stomach and the fast beating of your heart coax you into enjoying the moment, blocking out any other source of sound from your environment.

The bartender pulls away, taking into your flustered state as you sit frozen on the bar stool.

“You-”, “Too soon?”, “Y-You literally kissed a stranger”, you stutter. 

“Chan. My name is Chan”, the bartender finally introduces himself, “Your turn now”.

“I’m Y/N”, you reply, “Pretty name for a pretty girl”, he grins. “It’s not the only pretty thing about me”, you smirk and Chan raises his eyebrow playfully, his finger playing with his bottom lip.

“Is that an invitation?”, “Depends on whether you have to work all night”, “I get off in fifteen”, “Your house or mine?”, “I’d say the hotel across the street because both of us have had a drink”, “But I’m not drunk!”, “I don’t wanna risk it either way. Plus, they serve nice breakfast there”, “How would you know that, Chan?”, “A friend of mine works in the reception, he’ll give us a wonderful room”.

You take a few seconds to consider Chan’s proposal, but to be completely honest, you were sure about him since he bought you that second cocktail.

“Hope you’ll live up to your words, mister hot-shit bartender”.

[kousaka-ayumu]

Hokori Shroud/Cure Skull

Nicknames: Shroud-san(2nd years, 3rd years(Floyd, Rook and Idia)), Hokori-chan(Yuri, Mizuko, Sonomi, Fuyumi, Seiza), Hokori(1st years, Farah, Hoseki, Kiko, Idia), Nee-chan(Ortho), Child of Afterlife(Malleus), Princesse de la Résurrection(Rook), Clownfish(Floyd)

Age: 16

Height: 153cm

DOB: 6/13

Twisted from: Hercules/Heracles(Disney's Hercules), Maho(D4DJ), Airi(Project Sekai)

Species: Human

Homeland: Island of Woe

Family:

Unnamed parents

Idia Shroud(Older brother)

Ortho Shroud(Younger brother)

Class: 1-B(No.7)

Dorm: Ignihyde

Club: Gaming Club

Hobby: Gaming and DJ

Likes: Composing music, playing rhythm games, video games in general.

Dislikes: Losing full combo, Idia staying up all night.

Favorite food: Candy and anything sweet.

Least favorite food: Vegetables

Favorite drink: Chocolate milk

Pet peeve: getting competitive

"A first year of Ignihyde, Moonlight Bloom's residential DJ and Idia's younger sister, if you are planning a party and ended up having her as the DJ, she's here to light up the party!"

Appearance:

Unlike her brothers Hokori doesn't have fire hair, instead she has short blue hair that ties up in twintails with a strand of white streak and yellow eyes.

As Cure Skull her hair became white and is ties to a side ponytail and her eyes became pastel yellow.

Background:

She was raised on the Island of Woe alongside her older brother Idia and younger brother Ortho. From a young age she was considered a prodigy in gaming, rhythm games in general.

And out of all the Shrouds she's the only one who wasn't cursed meaning she doesn't have to close proximity to blot in order to survive.

She usually spent the whole time with her brothers. Influenced by the video games they would play, the 3 of them dreamed of becoming heroes and going on adventures together in the outside world.

One day an accident happened when the 3 of them attempted to escape the island by shutting down the security system, an unknown person launched an attack, causing a overblot phantom to attack the siblings with only Idia and Hokori surviving.

For the next 2 years she heard him working tirelessly to recreate Ortho in the form of a AI robot, but only that but she watches him shutting himself away from others.

Personality:

Hokori is a strong and opened-minded girl who is competitive with rhythm games, if you want to compete with her then you are asking for a death wish.

In general she is very worrying about her brother Idia, she usually brushing off her own problems by playing rhythm games and hanging out with the now AI robot Ortho.

Unique Magic: Rising The Dead!

It allows her to summons the people who died, the limit is that she can only summon it one time.

Trivia:

She had a stash of magical girl mangas, light novels and CDs in her room.

She started to learn to DJ after watching a music anime.

She never have a confront character before, but now she has one through a romance anime.

She has a staff with skull details as her signature weapon.

What do you guys think about her?

@zexal-club @yukii0nna @liviavanrouge @queen-of-twisted @yumeko2sevilla @writing-heiress @marrondrawsalot @childofwitches @achy-boo

[sanctum-of-ramshackle]

In The Dark

[TWST AU]: An MC/Yuu who fights like Xu Shang-Chi

[Synopsis]: In this timeline, MC/Yuu was transported to Twisted Wonderland and uses their knowledge of material arts to survive through chaotic adventures.

[Gender Neutral MC/Yuu]

[(A/N)]: I love Simu Liu and how he acted as Shang-Chi to show Asian representation in the Entertainment Industry.

The first time MC/Yuu came to Twisted Wonderland, they were in a middle of a battle against The Ten Rings clan.

MC/Yuu broke out of the coffin with their bare hands, shattering the lid into splinters and scaring poor Grim.

They were confused and still on defense mode then asked Grim who send him.

MC/Yuu: Who sent you? Wenwu?

Grim: Who-wu?

MC/Yuu: Never mind. *Sprints out of the room*

Grim: Hey! I need those clothes!

The chase still happens like in the canon storyline, but with some parkour stunts and losing Grim until later in the Library.

Crowley was almost knocked down while he came into scene, but you know you can’t sneak up on a former assassin.

MC/Yuu (plus Grim after he was captured by “The Whips of Love”) were dragged into the Dorm Sorting Ceremony and the same disaster happens.

MC/Yuu: *Witnessing a mess after under a minute* …This is crazier than seeing Morris the first time.

They brought Grim in as an emotional support buddy since their childhood wasn’t too good.

[Campus]

MC/Yuu: *Blocks an attack and knocks out the Savanaclaw student* I told you to stop, but you didn’t listen. I mean, what were you proving? Your large physique or that attitude?

Ace: Whoa! How did you do that?

MC/Yuu: I was trained to be an assassin in a clan called The Ten Rings. They’re not good people and last time I was with them, Wenwu was tracking down his son after he left.

[During Chapter 1]

Trey: Thanks for coming with me, MC/Yuu. I could use a set of hands.

MC/Yuu: No problem. If it saves Ace from being a “magicless student”, then he doesn’t have to complain about my living situation.

Trey: Yeah, it’s for the next Unbirthday Party. I just needs some over from that tree.

MC/Yuu: Okay. That sounds easy.

Trey: Careful, they have an outer shell covered in spikes. I provide some gloves-

MC/Yuu: *Kicks the tree which shook off some chestnuts* This enough for the tart?

Trey: *Surprised* Huh. They are enough.

[Back in the Heartslabyul kitchen]

MC/Yuu: Wenwu talked about some wannabe who was impersonating him as The Mandarin, the leader of the Ten Rings. Anyway, I found out he’s reintroduced to his career of becoming an actor.

Deuce: *Curious* When did that happened?

MC/Yuu: Oh, when Shang-Chi, Katy and I were looking for Xialing after she was imprisoned.

Deuce: Oh.

[During Chapter 2]

MC/Yuu: *Fighting against Overblot!Leona* Is this what you want?! *Pulls out replicates of the Ten Rings* You sore fighter!

Ace: Beat his ass, MC/Yuu!!!

Deuce: Careful, Prefect!

Jack: Don’t kill him!

MC/Yuu:

Overblot!Leona: *Falls back from the impact and spat out the Blot stone*

Everyone: OH!!!

Ruggie: Ya didn’t have to knock him unconscious!

MC/Yuu: I’m sorry! I’m still getting use to the rings.

[Karaoke Night at the Monstro Lounge]

MC/Yuu = Red Lyrics

Cater = Orange Lyrics

[Run It - DJ Snake (Ft. Rich Brian & Rick Ross)]

MC/Yuu: I picked a perfect song to start tonight.

Cater: Go for it, MC/Yuu-chan/kun!

[Song starts]

MC/Yuu: You can join in, too.

Cater: Alright! #KaraokeDuet

Uh, rollin' in impalas but you too tame

I ain't from the South, but I appreciate the wood grain

Neighbor callin' me about the noise it's only two, man

Now I'm in the same building but the floors and view changed

I ain't for the waitin' now

I bought a 'Rari and I did it just to hear the sound

Drive safe really 'boutta lose all it's meaning now

Guess you love to travel when I pull up man you're leaving town

Say you're married to the game, and I'm just here to burn the gown

I got a flight in the morning

I see what you been tryna do and I'ma mission abort it

You think I never pay attention in my mind I'm recording

I'm 'bout to win and ruin all your goals and dreams out of boredom

Ridin' around with homies like we run the city (done it)

Lookin' fresh and feelin' like a milli (money)

Move in silence, you can never hear me (comin')

If you got a problem when you see me (run it)

Run it

DJ Snake

Rozay, woah

Bang, tryna show you what we came to do (huh)

Boss, only talkin' makin' major moves

Rolls Royce, no top, me

No one will ever stop me

Me against the world, I got my back against the wall (woah)

Know I'm hell bound (woah)

But I'm well now (woah)

On the road to riches I could never lay around (woah)

Told her don't make a sound unless she make it loud (ah)

Everybody scream (everybody scream)

Everybody scream (everybody scream)

Everybody scream (everybody scream)

That's my only thing (yes)

I'm a born winner

A Jordan 23 (woo)

All my people G's until the party ceased

Ace: *In the audience* Do a flip!

MC/Yuu: *Performs the impressive stunt*

[Cater attempts to flip, but flops instead.]

Cater: *Falls on his back* Ow…

MC/Yuu: Oh shit. You okay?

Cater: *Looks up at MC/Yuu* Did you get that on MagiCam?

MC/Yuu: Oh my god.

Epel: You are so cool! How can I fight like you? Y’know, like the punching, kicking, and parkour stuff.

MC/Yuu: Uhh…it takes years to perform everything. But it’s not too late starting your journey.

Epel: What should we start with?

MC/Yuu: *Holds up a wooden board* Break it. Use whatever strength you possess and maybe we’ll start from there.

[Within a second, Epel breaks the board with his palm. Except he received 5 splinters.]

MC/Yuu: *Inhales with caution* Vil is gonna kill me.

✨[Reblogs helps creators and creates for more content]💫

[ipegchangbin]

— sub ! dj ! bang chan thoughts 💭

thinking about dj chan, the man who hypes up an entire club not only with his banger mixes but also with the fact that he’s mad fucking hot.

he’s often seen wearing sleeveless shirts and headphones, the forms of his arms and chest accentuated by semi loose clothes. some nights he’d have gigs in bars next to the beach and the cool evening breeze messes up his curly hair in the most attractive way possible.

what nobody knows is that behind his fun party persona is a good boy who goes on his knees in the stalls of the club bathrooms with the people he exchanges glances with. he has an ear for the music, sure, but he also has a mouth good for fucking.

it isn’t difficult at all to get him like this, either: all you had to do was look straight in his eyes and yell “you’re so good!” as he’s remixing your two favorite songs. he stared back at you, smiling with a quickly growing blush on his face. he ended up shyly muzzing until his turn ended just to hide the fact that being told he’s “good” turned him on so bad he was hoping nobody’s noticing the bulge on his pants.

so, as much as you can, tell him the same thing when he’s going down on you. he loves the praise.

[itstorimf]

risky, risky, risky - professor!dad!chan x female reader

chapter two: "HAHA! Pay up bitch!

word count: 2.1K

warnings: mentions of death (not any main characters, just in general) language, consumption or alcohol, not quite smut but definitely suggestive

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*written in Chris's pov*

     "Thank you again," I smiled as the babysitter I hired shut the door. It wasn't everyday that I had a night to myself, and honestly I felt a little guilty about leaving Leo with her. Leo and I were inseparable. Ever since his mother passed away, I had a hard time leaving him. However, tonight, my two best friends invited me for a night out. Jisung and Changbin were waiting for me outside of my apartment complex eager to begin our evening out. They both attended the same college and I was just lucky enough to have met them when I first moved into their town. Jisung and Changbin also happened to be friends with the owners of the club that we were going to. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix alongside my two friends were all in the same fraternity together. They invited us out to check out their club, and honestly, who were we to decline a free night of drinks? 

     Changbin sat in the driver's seat and would glance my way every so often. He could obviously tell that I felt uncomfortable I had left my son for the evening.

     "Dude. I promise Leo is going to be just fine," Changbin sighed as he made eye contact with me from the rearview mirror. 

     "I know, but what if the babysitter can't get him to fall asleep, or she doesn't close the baby gate and he falls down the stairs, or worse! What if he-?" I was cut off by Jisung in the passenger seat. 

     "Chris. I highly doubt that Lia would let any of that happen! Try to chill out. We're going out for fuck's sake! Drinks are free. Lix is dj-ing. Let yourself enjoy at least tonight," Jisung was right. After the year I had had with losing my wife and moving to a new city, I owed it to myself to live again. If not for myself, then for my son. Even though he was only two, I hated that Leo had to watch me go through the grief I did. If I could find it in myself to have fun again, maybe raising a child alone wouldn't be too hard.

     When we arrived at the boys' bar, the place was packed. Filled with people dancing and downing drinks. As weird as it sounds, it honestly felt kinda inviting. The atmosphere was freeing and exhilarating all at the same time. 

     "Gentlemen!" I heard a voice behind me say. It was Minho, one of the club owners. Hyunjin followed shortly behind him. "Let me show you to your table." Minho led us up a few steps to a table that was just slighted elevated from the dance floor. You could see what was going on in every corner of the club. "Drinks are on us, so get as crazy as you fuckin' want 'kay?" Hyunjin continued. We all laughed and decided to order a round of beers to start. After achieving the drinks, Changbin walkover to the DJ booth that Felix was setting up at. He had always had an interest in music production, so he would probably stay there for the rest of the night. The silence at our table was broken by Jisung.

     "Alright dude. We seriously gotta get you laid!" Jisung shouted. My head turned faster than my brain could comprehend what he had said and I shot him a look. I chuckled and shook my head in disapproval. "What?" he said in shock, "Dude! You're like a major dilf. Dilfs are all the rage these days!"

     "Right and how would I explain that to her? 'Oh sorry let me just move my son into the living room. Don't worry! Get comfortable, but if he wakes up I have to bring him back in here!' You're funny", I respond.

     "How about this? You meet a girl. It goes well. Say the word and you can go back to mine and Changbin's place! We'll take care of Leo while you-"

     "I got the point!" and honestly. It wasn't too bad of an idea. Ji and Changin took care of my son over night once while I was away for a conference and they did just fine. Maybe, just maybe, I would take them up on that offer. It was the idea of talking to a girl again that made me nervous. Changbin eventually joined us again at the table and we ordered a bottle of Hennessy for the three of us to share. My eyes scanned through the dance floor and they landed on woman dancing with a friend. She clearly had been drinking by the way she was dancing, but sober enough to look after her friend. Every so often her attention would go back to the intoxicated girl next to her, checking to make sure she was okay. Before I could realize that I had been staring, she looked up at me. A quick glance, before she averted her eyes to the ground. A little while later, a larger group of people joined them on the dance floor, and she broke away to sit by herself at a table in the corner. There was something about the way she held herself. An obvious wallflower, but judging by the way she danced, around just the right people, she was able to let herself go. I needed to know more about her. I downed what was the rest of my glass and stood up. "Alright gentlemen! Wish me luck..." I announced to them. 

     "No fucking way! Mr. Christoper Bang? You're gonna go talk to a girl?" Changbin asked.

     "Hey you guys were the ones that said I had to loosen up a bit. Here I go!" and with that I started walking in her direction. When I got to her table, she also stood, though she wasn't looking where she was going. She stumbled into my arms and held my arms out to catch her. Clearly embarrassed she looked up at me with blushed cheeks. 

     "I am so sorry!" this mystery girl said, quick to apologize for landing on me. "These shoes are death traps I swear." I chuckled. Do I flirt with her? It had been so long since I had even attempted to flirt. The alcohol was kicking in and I thought to myself, 'eh... fuck it! What do you have to lose?'

     "That's alright, but I'll only forgive you if you tell me your name," I said with a smirk.

     "HA! Smooth. I'm Y/N. I haven't seen you around here before uh..." she trailed off.

     "Chris." I responded. "Yeah. I'm pretty new to the area," small talk. I was never very good at small talk, but then she smiled at me. God. Her smile was infectious. 

     "Well Chris. What brings you to Venom?" Y/N asked. So she was as equally curious about me as I was about her. Good.

     "A couple of friends know the owners, so they dragged me out tonight. Technically, Hyunjin did say that drinks were on them, so can I get you a drink?" I asked. A cliché move, but in movies, they always seemed to work. 

     "Well before I stumbled onto you, I was supposed to be leaving..." she trailed off again. I expected her to say no, but instead she continued with, "but hey! If it's free then one more wouldn't hurt!" I guided her to the bar and learned that her drink of choice was vodka tonic. One drink turned into three and suddenly we were on the dance floor. The music had changed as the night progressed and the dancing turned into full on grinding. I looked over at Felix who was smiling at me. He gave me thumbs up and continued on playing the music. Her body was on mine. The mixture of the heavy bass and the alcohol made the situation all the more intoxicating. My hand snaked around her waist and she turned around to face me, her arms wrapping behind my neck. Do people kiss on the dance floor? Do people kiss a person the JUST MET on the dance floor? Before I could find out the answer, Y/N's friend pulled her attention away from me. "I will be right back!" she shouted over the music. 

     I looked over at Ji and Changbin sitting at the table. Minho had eventually joined them. They were all smiling at me. It then clicked that all of my friends, Felix, Minho, and Hyunjin included, all had the same intentions of getting me laid tonight. Jisung and Changbin allowing me to use their space should things go well. Minho giving us a table above everything, allowing us to people watch. Hyunjin giving us access to free drinks to fuel the rest of the evening. Felix purposefully changing the vibe from uptempo club music to filthy grinding music. I was almost certain that this was Jisung's doing, but honestly, I couldn't be too upset. They obviously found the situation comical considering my distain for wanting to come out tonight in the first place.  

     "So my friend called an Uber back to our apartment. I guess that means I have to go," Y/N said when she returned disappointedly. This was it. I had to make a choice between letting this bombshell of a person go and being a little bitch, or sucking it up and being bold for once. Before I had the opportunity to exercise my options, I was speaking faster than my brain could comprehend.

     "Or you could come back to mine?" BOLD CHRISTOPHER! BOLD. She smirked back at me and bit her lip. She said nothing else. Just nodded. I grabbed her hand and led her off of the dance floor. I got to the table and shot Changbin and Jisung a look. 

     "Mr. Bang? To what do we owe the pleasure?" Changbin asked with a smile on his face. He obviously knew what I was asking for seeing as he fished his hand in his pocket ready to give me the keys to his apartment. I looked at him and winked. Changbin took his car key off of its key ring and threw the remaining set of keys my way.

     "HAHA! Pay up bitch!" I heard Jisung yell, holding his hand out to collect the bet they had placed. Both Y/N and I chuckled. Hand in hand, we walked outside of the club and anxiously waited for a taxi.

     "I'm sorry. I don't think I heard this correctly," she said breaking the silence. "Is your last name really Bang? Like your name is Chris Bang?" she laughed. The tension in the air subsided and I winked at her.

     "Technically in Korea you'd call me Bang Chris. Well, my Korean name is Chan so you'd actually call me Bang Chan. Don't worry I've already heard all of the jokes you can make. My mates back in Australia were ruthless," I rambled on. We were finally able to hail a taxi and Y/N got in first. I gave the driver the boys' address and we were on our way.

     The tension in the taxi could be cut with a knife. My hand rested on her thigh and her's rested in the back of my neck, playing and tugging at my hair. I drew little circles on her thighs and watched as her eyes closed. The more I teased, the tighter her grip got on my hair. Y/N was clearly enjoying this. We arrived at the apartment and I practically threw the money at the taxi driver, way too eager to get inside. Inside of the apartment, I shut the door and pushed Y/N against it. Our lips connected and our hands explored each other's bodies. Not disconnecting from the kiss. I unbuttoned the rest of my buttons and she pulled the shirt off of me. I pulled the tight black dress she was wearing off of her body. One by one, articles of clothing went flying as we made our way to the room. 

     Did I feel guilty fucking in one of my best mate's room? Maybe a little, but all I wanted to was make Y/N feel good. I barely thought about it. 

     "Well Mr. Bang. I think I need to find out for myself if you name precedes you," she muttered with pure lust as I kissed down her neck. It was both the nerdiest and sexiest thing I had ever heard. 

     "Well gorgeous. I guess you'll have to tell me what you think when we're done..."     

[hydroyaksha]

Stray kids fic recs

A skz fic list for those who’re too lazy to actually search for them (you’re just like me!!)

If any of the authors on this list do not want me to put their work on this list, I will immediately remove it, please tell me if you don’t want it here!

Personal favorites - ❤️

Kim seungmin

Scaredy cat

Very short and sweet, my favorite line has to be “speed run this bitch”. I absolutely love haunted houses fics and both the MC and seungmin being scared just made this twice as funny!

The minstrel, Kim Seungmin

(Royal AU) fluff, slight angst (wandering bard! Seungmin x princess! Reader)

This was just soooo cute! Seungmin and the MC’s relationship was just so precious and it really encapsulates how you could fall in love in such a short time. Totally read this, 12/10!

Entangled

(Spider man AU) (spider man! Seungmin x dj! Reader) fluff, angst, more fluff

OHHHHHHHHH MY GOOOOOOOD!!!!!! YOUVE DONE IT AGAIN! HOW ON EARTH ARE YOU SO GOOD WITH WORDS? YOUVE GOT LIKE THE BEST AU’s AND STORIES IM CRYING??? I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCHHHHH

Seo changbin

Sun and moon

(soft! Girl x rough! Boy) fluff, angst(?)

This was a very sweet fic, changbin was always there for the reader when she needed it and it was just such a calming read. It was very cute how they went from a fake relationship to something genuine and it warmed my heart!

Outside my window

(Shapeshifter! Changbin x reader) angst, fluff

Had a great bittersweet ending and I loved the overall theme!

The prince, Seo Changbin

(Prince! Changbin x princess! Reader) Angst, Fluff

I should also probably mention that I absolutely love enemies to lovers, something about how opposites attract is just so pleasing to see so this fic was just a gift from heaven! Changbin’s promise to the reader at the end was just so sweet and warming, totally read it if you’re a enemies to lovers fan!

Sprouts and their Joy ❤️

(Brother figure! Changbin/ reader) fluff, angst

Changbin was so sweet in this fic, he was such a good older brother figure to the reader and was always there for them, when he finally said “I love you” I think I almost cried. This was such a touching read and I totally suggest reading it!

Don’t call me cupcake

Chapter one: Changbin

(Resident evil AU) (Agent! Changbin x agent! Reader) fluff, teeny bit of angst

Bang Chan

The unbounded knight, Bang Chan

(Unbounded knight! Chan x queen! Reader) angst, fluff fluff, a lil suggestive at the end

This might actually be my favorite of this short series, aside from Minho’s one. Chan just seemed like such a happy lil dude and the reader was just so sweet when she warmed up to him, their relationship was very very cute!

Cinderfella

(Cinderella AU) (noble!Chan x princess! Reader)

Ohhhh I loved the swapped roles in this, Chan was so mature for his situation and always upheld his manners, to top it off he has so much kindness in him too!

Can you lend me a crayon?

(Single father! bangchan x babysitter adult! Reader) fluff, smut, lil bit of angst so far

Gee wowza, I usually don’t read fics like this but whooey mama. 13/10 absolutely loved the first part and am looking forward to the rest! The wording and structure of the story is sooo addicting and the plot is to die for! Keep up the great work!!!

Butterfly wings ❤️

(Indian dancer! Reader x idol! Bangchan) fluff

I had to re-add this fic here because it’s absolutely everything I have ever wanted in a fic! As a kathak dancer myself, this fic was to die for and I felt like my culture was really being appreciated here! Bangchan really gave off the vibes of a fanboy and I found it sooo cute! 20/10 absolutely would read again and again!

Yang jeongin

Heroine addict

(Superhero! Reader x journalist student! Jeongin)

So so cute, Jeongin was such a determined student and all those things he did just to see the reader was so sweet, the last scene really touched my heart. I felt like Jeongin was such a careful boy when it came to interviewing the reader, he never asked her personal things! 20/10

Brown sugar

(Witch! Barista! Jeongin x reader) fluff fluff

Just started reading from this author and I’m absolutely in love this universe already, you’ve gotta check out their witch! Skz universe fics!

17.59

(Crown prince! Jeongin x assassin! Reader) fluff fluffy fluff

Blue and silver

(Silver fox! jeongin x human! Reader) flufffffff, lil bit of angst

24 to 25 ❤️

(Childhood friends! Jeongin x reader) fluff angst

Oh. My. God. The actual amount of investment I put into this fic was insane. I couldn’t stop reading it, both parts were immensely riveting and so much fun to read! The development across their ages was so well planned that it just had me wanting more and more. These two were the cutest ever 20/10!

Loving the monster

(Fae king! Jeongin x human! Reader) fluff, angst, there is some torture/ cruel pranks in this fic

Another monster fic that was so much fun to read! The betrayals the reader goes through and the trust she eventually puts into jeongin was so heartwarming to read, this fic was so enticing! 12/10

Speaking in tongues ❤️

(general! Jeongin x arabian dancer! Reader) fluff, angst, violence

This was an actual master piece??? It felt like an actual movie reading this story, I can’t wait to read the final part omg! The story building and the writing was to die for! I fell in love with all of the characters in this story as they had so much character to them! There was so much depth in this fic, I fell in love with the way this author writes. 20/10!

Han ji-sung

Anything but normal

(Spiderman! Han x friend! Reader) fluff, teensy suggestive at some points

This was so cute ahwbwnwakaoshwbwk, their relationship was very funny and the way their personalities were written was just perfect 12/10 totally recommend

Do you trust me?

(Nerve AU) ongoing, fluff, a lil suggestive (?), very little angst

Honestly I was so happy when I found this AU, I’m a sucker for AU’s and a nerve AU on top of it? Sign me up. It was cute to see how their relationship blooms from strangers to friends as they complete dares together!

The blacksmith, Han Jisung

(Blacksmith! Han x crown princess! Reader) fluff, lil bit of angst

Very very cute, this was like a one sided enemies to lovers thing but Han didn’t hate the reader??? Well- it doesn’t matter, the story was very cute and the ending was so satisfying. My fav line has to be the one where the reader talks about how she might as well become the first queen to rule alone!

Hear.t fm

(DJ! Han x best friend! Reader) fluff, very little angst

This was so refreshing to read, Han switching to DJ J.ONE and back was funny to read when the reader would tease him about having a crush on J.ONE, 13/10!

Young God ❤️

(Serial killer! Han x reader) fluff, angst angst, completed

Oh when I tell you this was good good, it was like a full 30/10 for me, Han’s character was written so beautifully and carefully it just squeezes my heart! He was always so sweet and careful around the reader, I really felt bad for him when his past came to light. Such a good read, I totally recommend this!

Utterly lovesick

(Bsf! Han x bsf! Reader) fluff, angst

Summary: out of the 6 times Han attempted to get a kiss from you, he only succeeded 1 time.

For my great friend, you ❤️

(Idol! Han x assassin! Reader) fluff fluff, angst to a whole new level

Oh my god this is a master piece, there is so much I want to say about this fic. When the reader started playing “M.I.A” in the fic, guess what happened to me? I was listening to the “this is stray kids” playlist on Spotify and it suddenly played M.I.A! This fic had me going through so many feelings! The ending was super bittersweet but with an extra dollop of sweet. This is a must read!

Love in cheese

Otherworldly

(Alien! Jisung x human! Reader) smut!, fluff fluff

10/10 read, but it is smut so if ur uncomfy with it pls don’t read!

Lee minho

The chancellor, Lee Minho

(Assassin! Minho x Queen! Reader) angst, fluff

Oh my god, this fic was too good, there aren’t many words I can use to describe this fic but it’s good, this is a must read! I loved how the author captured Minho’s love for the reader in such a beautiful way and it was so touching!

Metamorphosis

(Black cat! Minho x reader) angst, fluff

Cute and sweet, short but a good read!

A fairy tail that lasts

(Playboy! Minho x writer! Reader) fluff, angst

Oh my god this was just a bucket of sugar! Minho’s character was written with such love and I adored how he immediately dropped his past ways when he met the reader! This was such an amazing read, 30/10!

Green flames ❤️

(Slytherin! Minho x Gryffindor! Reader) fluff

Ok this was so cute and the TENSION between the two was so riveting! I loved this so much and would love to see a continuation! I re-added this fic here on the skz separate master list because I felt like it needed a whole other page of recognition! Def one of my fav reads thus far, 12/10!

Home

(Spider-Man! Minho x reader)

Soo cute, you could really feel the trust in their relationship!

Countless skies upon us

(swordsmaster! Minho x reader)

Absolutely loved how their relationship developed across the fic!

Hwang Hyunjin

In which Hyunjin must choose between you or dragonfruit

This was just a whole bunch of crack and humor, the short series was surprisingly funny to read (check out the Han one too!)

The thief, Hwang Hyunjin

(Thief! Hyunjin x princess! Reader) very little angst, fluff fluff fluff

Ohhh this might be my favorite in this AU and I just have to give it to the author, you really have a way with words, I always find a smile on my face when I reach the endings of your fics!

Sparks

(Assassin! Hyunjin x assassin! Reader) fluff (?), some suggestive stuff but never escalates

I’d love to see a part two! I liked the idea of the reader being a flirty jokester and hyunjin being a somewhat emotionless dude! 11/10

Guard dog

(Werewolf! Hyunjin x reader) fluff fluff

Summary: Hyunjin takes up a date from one of his friends and ends up in an adoption center for dogs. Everything seemed to bother him until he met you, the person in a wheelchair willing to adopt a huge “dog” like him.

Backseat driving

(Street racer! Hyunjin x reader) fluff, angst (not too much, a little suggestive but nothing too bad

I remember reading this fic a while back and it was just so good! 12/10 totally recommend

The duke and I

(Bridgerton AU) (duke! Hyunjin x author! Reader)

fluff, angst (?), smut (you can skip it tho, i did it and it still made sense without the scenes)

Oh my god this was super good, I love how Hyunjin was always supportive of the reader’s writing and how he encouraged her and was honest with critiques. 14/10 you have to read it!

Back in time

(Prince! Hyunjin x reader) fluff, angst

God the ending really touched my heart, I hope for a part two or something like a continuation of this. I love how open the reader is and how nonchalant she can be sometimes, it just made her so charming! She and Hyunjin made such a good pair in this story!

Forward in time

(King! Hyunjin x Reporter! Reader) fluff, angst (?)

THISSSS!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! So this was basically an alternate version of the last fic and I loved it so much!! Hyunjin was honestly so hilarious in this story, the hair scene was definitely my favorite!

Android! Hyunjin

(Android! Hyunjin x reader) fluff fluff, teeny bit of angst

A thump in the night

(Vampire bat AU) (bat! Hyunjin x reader) fluff fluff

You’re short and he loves it so much

(Short! Reader x hyunjin) fluff

Lee Felix

When a flower blooms

(Gu ardian fairy AU) fluff

This was short and sweet, very very cute 13/10 recommend it

The prince, Lee Felix

(prince! Felix x thief! Reader) angst, fluff

This one was a little more sad compared to the Seungmin one but was super good regardless! I feel like their relationship is still young and that they’d need some more time before they really can understand eachother but this was totally a good read!

Hero’s soup for the weak soul ❤️

(Superhero! Felix x best friend! Reader) fluff, teensy angst

Oh My GOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!!!!! This author is so talented I swear to god I’m going to fill this entire rec list with only their work at this point. This fic was so cute and funny, Felix is pretty lazy but super affectionate and the reader’s just a diligent school worker, the best type of pair!

Off the deep end

(Rebel! Felix x royal-ish! Reader) smut, angst, fluff

This is such a good series bro actually I would buy this if it was a physical book! 12/10 I absolutely love how the story is progressing and can’t wait to see the end! (It’s also enemies to lovers so 👀)

Ot8 (poly)

Autumn daze

(3racha x reader) fluff fluff fluff, humor

You find out that they’re a vampire

Ot8 (separate stories) x reader (fluff, angst, humor if you squint)

Skz as your brothers

seperate stories, fluff fluff fluff

Covering you when uncomfortable

Separate stories, cuuute

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Other:

Authors you just have to check out!:

@luvknow

They’ve got such a colorful selection of AU’s for straykids and I just had to mention them! Most of this list would’ve been filled with their works but I felt like it’d be best if you all follow them to get updates! You totally need to check them out!

@jeonginks

Oooh I really like this author, their oneshots are so long it honestly feels like I’m reading the script for a movie. Their fics always manage to pull on my heart strings with the way they write their fics with utmost care! They’ve got such a colorful masterlist that’s definitely worth checking out!

@straykidshoe

Ok so- this author is absolutely amazing! A lot of their straykids stories cater to Indian/desi people and it’s so heartwarming! Even for those who aren’t desi, these stories are so well written that it’s an absolute joy to read! Not only that- they’ve got multiple AU fics which are to die for! Make sure to check them out!