#but also it’s like. things will never b okay again i should just curl up and die. yknow

[merevide]

me trying to remind myself that my brain makes things worse than they actually are and things are actually never that serious

[yeetus-feetus]

Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused.

He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is ok.

The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"

One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.

Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too.

And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!

So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!

Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!

Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.

"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.

"I'm Robin."

"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.

Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.

Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.

Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.

"dick pick us up!"

"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"

"again!"

"again!"

It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.

Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.

But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.

"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.

Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."

Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.

It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".

"what are you reading?" Duke asks.

"Macbeth."

Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"

"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.

"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"

Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."

The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.

Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.

Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.

Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.

"gotta tell B"

"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.

"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.

"no way! Really? That's so cool, I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.

Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and awesome! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.

"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.

Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!

"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."

quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.

idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine

[glimmerlofsea]

Billy Hargrove x Ghost!Reader

MASTERLIST

PHANTOM LOVE

Warning : Angst¿ Since you're a ghost :(

WC; 3,5k

#TALKISSA; After Billy almost died at the Starcourt mall, he experienced a weird things, or you could say he saw a spirit walking through other people. He thinks he's insane, since they don't talk and only go through people, but not after you ask him to get to know each other.

Through cruel events a year ago, wild events occurred in Billy's life. He almost lost his mind when he was possessed by a demon or whatever the name of that monster. Max was there, but she didn't have much influence, Billy became quieter and just stayed in his room playing his music. He thought that the craziest incident in his life was over, but not when he walked out of the house and saw lots of people walking past other people. By 'through' we mean those that easily penetrate into another person's body without hitting them.

He really lost his mind, but seeing them not talking at all made Billy think it was just his imagination and everything would pass, but not when he accidentally collided with you.

"Sorry." He said in a hurry.

You widened your eyes and looked at him, following him like a pet,

He looked at you in surprise, looking at you alternately with the road in front of him, "I said I'm sorry."

You nod enthusiastically, "Yeah, I know! That's insane! I barely can't talk to anyone in here, and then you saw me! We even touched!" You exclaimed then touched his shoulder tracing it with your hand, making him shiver and throw your hand away gently.

"Okay, just tell me, how did you die? Or are you alive?!" Your emotions become more passionate when things are related to 'alive'.

Billy frowned, then he realized that many people were looking at him in surprise as if he was the center of attention because of something weird. Then he realized... He should have realized when you asked how he died.

"Don't talk to me. Again." Press him then speed up his steps to leave you.

You didn't give up and continued to follow him, "That's just amazing! You see me, you talk to me! Imagine if we were friends!"

"That would never happen." He replied without even looking at you.

You relax your facial muscles and curl your lips, but it's okay, maybe he's just hard to reach, but you know for sure deep down he has a soft side, he just doesn't know how to express it.

"You're a little... Stiff, I got it. Don't worry, we're the same age! I'll try to make friends—"

"—The problem is that I don't need friends!" He shouted, Billy realized that people were already looking at him, but he took his steps towards you, he couldn't stand it, he had been through something hard and had to go through this nonsense? What's the term? Seeing a ghost? Well, fuck that shit.

"Why don't you just go and bother other people? Besides, you're dead, we don't know each other, so go away. Stop bothering me, my life is already troublesome."

For the record, ghosts can feel too. They still have feelings, you still have feelings, your eyes are sore, you already feel two tears about to come out, but instead of showing it to that rude guy you choose to disappear. Using 'abilities' that only ghosts can use.

When you used your vanishing move, Billy cursed himself, at that time he was in a bad mood, he had been rejected for a job application for the umpteenth time because he had lots of scars all over his body. Number one looks when it comes to work, and how much he hates that terms. He also hated himself, he used to be very proud to show off his body to girls when he was still a lifeguard, but now? Even wearing half-buttoned clothes, he didn't dare. Too many scars made him feel... Insecure.

And the words he said to you? He knew it was cruel, and would make him heartless. He didn't care what others thought about him talking to himself, he was already considered 'different' anyway.

Max knows about Billy's ability to see ghosts. She thinks it's cool and thinks Billy might be able to become a psychic for his job but that idea only makes Billy's mood worse.

Meanwhile...

"Besides, you're dead," You imitate the way he speaks to you, you whine, let out a cry, "I know! I know I'm dead, I didn't ask God to end my life, I'm not even ready and don't want to die. I still have dreams."

You are literally in a very quiet alley and definitely the perfect place to hide and mourn your own life.

You just want to have a friend. You used to be a Hawkins student, excelled and admired by many boys, and it all ended in death when you came to a party and accidentally fell into the swimming pool. You can't swim, the students think it's a 'joke' so they just laugh and you just die. Stupid. Sometimes you just laugh at the way you died, but on the other hand you are also curious why you don't move on to the next world, you have accepted your death, what is holding you here?

"Do you have any new friends to talk to?" someone asked.

You wiped your tears and looked the other way, seeing Mary—a powerful ghost in the Hawkins area who was respected by other ghosts.

You stood up and approached her, "Yeah, but he doesn't want to talk to me. Hell, he doesn't even want to be friends with me."

Mary is the mother of the ghosts here. She is the one who usually explains the circumstances when a new ghost lands in this mystical world. And she is a good advice giver!

Mary chuckled, "Young girl, not everyone here can see us, rarely even them, the guy was just shocked and had a hard time accepting the fact that he could see us. Trust the process."

You sighed, "Why don't other ghosts want to socialize?"

Mary dropped her smile, "Most of them... Have you ever heard of energy absorption?" You shook your head, "That's when ghosts who have just died have their energy absorbed because at that time in their lives there was too much pressure, which pushed them to keep quiet."

You're still confused, "Does that even make sense?"

Mary put her arm around your shoulder and took you for a walk on the quiet street that night, "Yes, honey. There are also lots of ghosts who talk a lot here, it's just that they haven't had the chance to meet you."

"Can't you just bring them to me?"

Mary chuckled, “That's not how it works, Y/N, you know that.”

"I feel lonely. Like... I'm the only one left here, and seeing that guy, I had a glimmer of hope of having a friend."

Mary gently stroked your shoulder, "Maybe you want to fix something with him? He's over there."

Mary's words made you furrow your forehead and turn your head towards where she was directing her gaze,

You see the guy you met a few moments ago. He is throwing away his trash and notices your presence.

You turned to look at Mary but she was gone, you wanted to use your ability to disappeared but—

"Wait!"

You heard him scream, making you stop and freeze looking at him.

"Can we talk?"

"You realize people will only see you talking to the wind, right?" You asked raising your eyebrows.

"Just... Come into my house."

You squinted your eyes to figure out his plan.

"I owe you something."

Owe. Surely he owes you an apology, you walk towards him, and he starts leading you towards his house, before he opens the door you have already penetrated through the wall. The sensation when doing that is always hilarious, you feel a touch of electricity all over your body, but still, it's a cool thing about being a ghost!

You explored the house, penetrating every wall there was, "You live here alone?" You asked curiously.

"No. With my sister."

You nod in understanding.

"Do you want some..." Hearing his conversation made you look at him, curious about his next words. He scratched the nape of his neck, "Some tea?"

You stifled your laugh, "I can't barely feel anything in my body. And tea?" You let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, my bad, sorry."

"But it's worth a try. May I have some tea?" You asked while spinning your body to enjoy every corner of his house. Makes the white dress you wear expand by itself when it spins.

You died at the prom, wearing a beautiful, sparkling knee-length white dress.

"Sure. Wait here."

You sat on his soft sofa, trying to reach his television remote but couldn't. Carrying other objects for ghosts is a difficult test, you have to use 100% of your energy.

Billy put the tea he made on the table. You took a breath to take the cup of tea, when you could actually reach it, you let out a small chuckle and then sipped the tea. You feel... Nothing. Mary said that whatever taste a human feels will not be the same as what a ghost feels, the ghost will only feel bland.

You sighed, "I don't know if it's good or bad, I can't feel it."

Billy smiled, "But at least you can touch the cup."

You looked at him and smiled, "What was your intention in inviting me here?"

Billy cleared his throat, "I want to apologize for what I said earlier. It was heartless. I didn't know ghosts had feelings—"

"We have." You reply cutting him off.

He nodded slowly then continued speaking, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I was just in a bad mood and let them get to me."

"Apology accepted. Now, will you be my friend? You're the only one who can see me."

"And you're the only one I can talk to. Let's be friends." He replied with a smile.

You exclaim happily, "HOORAY!"

You approached yourself with him and took his hand to shake it with you, "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you! What's your name?"

He looked confused by your enthusiasm, you were supposed to be older than him but your attitude was far from representative of your age.

"Billy Hargrove, call me Billy."

That's when the history of your friendship begins. You started to get to know him closely, and started to get to know Max, even though it was difficult to communicate, you always found a way to communicate with her. Like she is talking and you will write something on paper with the pencil provided by her. It was hard but you had fun getting to know her.

Billy's house is like home to you too, you sometimes sleep in Billy's bed if he comes home late, usually he will move you to Max's room, but not this time.

You see the sight of his good looks awakened by the sunlight shining through the window.

You correct your position and look at him while admiring him, he is a good friend, sometimes he will take you to the edge of the lake, even though it is bad for your memory because you died because of the water but he is the one who helps you get rid of that fear by always being there. Beside you. But you're not sure you'll always be there for him.

Mary said, what keeps us here is the trauma that caused our death. If the ghosts' trauma is gone then they will also disappear along with their trauma which has finally been successfully treated. Therefore, if Billy invites you to the lake, you will often refuse him. You didn't want to be separated from Max, especially not Billy, you weren't ready.

You tucked his curly hair behind his ear, he had a scar near his ear, or more precisely on his cheek. Often you find him staring longer at the scars left all over his body, you can feel it, he is tense and feels insecure about the scars he has.

You entered his room, found him not wearing any clothes, just showing his whole body freely, that's where you saw the big scars on his back and stomach. There were scratches on his neck and chest.

Billy, who saw you, immediately raised his voice, "What are you doing here?! Get out!"

You knew he didn't mean to yell at you, it was hard to read the emotions he was feeling.

At that moment you communicated with Max, taking the pencil she usually provides for you when you want to communicate,

"Why does Billy get angry easily when it comes about his scars?"

Max pondered, taking a deep breath, "It was a bad memory for him, for me, and for us. He almost died from that scars. I don't know but maybe he was sensitive because he felt embarrassed? He was scared, Y/N. Afraid of himself and maybe that has the effect that other people will be afraid of him too. Sometimes he's not the Billy I know but I'm grateful, he's more sincere and loves me, and I love him."

With that, you immediately approached the front of Billy's room, peeked through the door hole and saw him curled up on the side of the bed. You walked in and heard his sobs, you landed yourself next to him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." You said.

Billy took a breath and looked at you with his puffy eyes,

You felt sorry for him and cupped his cheek with one hand to wipe his tears, "Why are you crying?"

"Every night, I see them, Y/N. Traces of that creature mumbling that it won't leave me for long and will return. It will come back to corrupt me and turn me into a monster again and hurt Maxine."

And... Billy wasn't wearing his clothes yet, allowing you to get a closer look at his scar.

"You're not a monster, you know that, Billy."

“Yeah, Y/N, I was scared it would happen again.”

You pulled him into your arms, trying to calm him down but apparently that would only make him cry, you didn't mind, after all your white dress was already dirty.

You gently stroked his back, tracing the scars and trying to comfort him, "It won't happen again, I'll make sure of that. It's okay, Billy. Everything will be fine. And I will stay by your side until everything is really okay."

A few moments later, when you felt Billy had calmed down a little, you sat on the edge of the bed. Just keep quiet,

"I hate crying in front of you, it makes me look like a coward."

You chuckled, "Why? Just because you're a guy?" Billy nods, you take his fingers and hold them, "If ghosts who aren't even alive are allowed to have feelings, why can't men? You're human, Billy, you have feelings. So, it's okay to cry. My shoulder is always willing to dry the air from your eyes."

Billy couldn't help but chuckle at your words, as did you, "How tacky."

You roll your eyes.

"Making you a friend is an opportunity I will never regret in my life, Y/N."

You smiled, "I'm happy to be your friend too."

"Can you stay by my side? Forever?"

You were a little hesitant, but didn't want to worry him, "To see you as just an old man?"

Billy chuckled, you let out a small laugh.

"But I was going to ask something." he said.

You cleared your throat, loosening your grip but he didn't want to let go.

"You're not afraid of me? Of this scars?"

You smiled sincerely and cupped his face with your other hand, "They're beautiful. I love them."

"Yeah?"

You nod, "A little cool too, I like them anyway."

Billy smiled slyly, "Do I need to always be shirtless so you always see them?"

You held back your laughter, "See if you can stand Max's screams."

He smiled one last time before asking the question you didn't see coming, "Can I kiss you?"

You dropped your smile, "What? You know I'm a ghost, right?"

"Ah-ha."

"Then you know we don't stand a chance, Billy."

"But if, if we had the chance would you do it with me?"

You held back your tears, "But I don't think we have a chance. I'm just a ghost, unable to do anything except penetrate, disappear, or—"

"But you have feelings, Y/N. Tell me how you feel about me."

You sighed, not wanting this to hurt, “Billy—”

"Please."

You looked into his eyes, "My heart does say I love you. More than a friend, always thought you wouldn't think the same of me because there are many other real human girls. Meanwhile me? For you maybe I can be felt and touched, but for them I'm just a passing wind that they don't even care about, Billy, they can't even look at it. We don't have a chance, don't make this hurt any more."

"Who cares what they say? Y/N, you're the safest place I have, the most comfortable place I have," He squeezed your fingers gently, "I love you too. God, I love you more than I thought."

"We can't."

"We can."

You sighed, and kissed Billy on the cheek, "Let's forget about this, okay? Get dressed, I'm going to get some fresh air." With that you disappeared somewhere, leaving Billy alone in his room. You assumed that your relationship wasn't working, but Billy still had hope.

"But... I don't want to forget about this."

Now you admire him in the light shining on his face, Billy opens his eyes, you smile and take your hand away from him, "Morning,"

He just cleared his throat.

"You didn't move me to Max's room, did you?"

"You look tired from whatever adventure you had yesterday."

You stifled a laugh, "Ghosts can't get tired."

"But they can snore? That's great."

You widened your eyes and got up from the bed, "I snore?!"

Billy woke up from the bed and sat up trying to collect himself, "Don't worry, I'm not bothered."

You covered your face with your hands, “Shit, I'm embarrassed.”

Billy chuckled as he pulled your hands covering your face, "Don't be, I'm really not bothered. Now accompany me in making breakfast, okay?"

You sighed but still kept your mouth in a curl, Billy ruffled your hair randomly before getting up from the bed. You were about to land yourself on the floor but suddenly something inside you made you hurt until you fell on the floor and you held your chest. Surprisingly, ghosts shouldn't be able to feel pain.

You groaned, making Billy lay in front of you and make sure you were okay, "What's wrong?!"

You took a breath, “I don't feel good.”

"Do you want me to call... Your friend, you know... What's her name? Fuck..."

"Mary."

"Yes, Mary! Wait here, I'll look for—"

You shook your head, you knew this day would come when you felt your body which was very tired from yesterday. Your trauma has disappeared, which means you will also disappear.

"There's something I want to tell you."

Billy cleared his throat, he pulled your body gently and laid you on the bed, while he knelt in front of you, "What's wrong, Princess? Please tell me."

"You know I died because of the water, right? That's stupid." Your words ended with a small laugh.

Billy nodded, still paying close attention to your words.

"And you're trying to fix what I'm afraid of. It's kind of bad, but I don't blame you, okay? Mark this words. I just remembered Mary said when the ghost's trauma goes away and so will they—"

"No." Billy chirped.

"No, Y/N. You can't just say that, it won't happen."

"Billy."

You see the twinkle that appears from your body, not to mention the sunlight shining on you makes it look clearer,

Billy grabbed your hand, “No, you're being mean, please, no, no. You promised me!”

You held back your tears and cupped his cheek, "It wasn't my will."

"You promised you wouldn't leave me."

“I know, I'm sorry. I am really, really sorry."

"And tell Max thank you for wanting to be my friend. And you Billy, you're the best gift I've ever got, the best ever, I will always love you. Don't think this is the end of everything, maybe you can still see them and can't see me again, but I'll still be by your side, whether in animal form, or whatever. I haunt you with love, Billy Hargrove."

You kissed him, giving him the chance he always longed for one last time. It goes beautifully but not when you actually turn into twinkle. Billy didn't feel anything anymore, he didn't feel your lips which were as soft as cotton candy anymore.

He cried uncontrollably, because he couldn't do anything about it, and he shouldn't do something he didn't know the consequences of. But at least you're in a better place, right?

He couldn't do anything, he could only cry.

A few weeks later he only felt lonely through silent ghosts, unlike you who really colored his days when everything became dark for him. In another life, he promised to really take care of you and not let anything happen to you. But the question is, can you even be together in another life?

You really haunt him with love as you promised, sometimes he walks on the street when you first meet and he sees a white butterfly stuck to the window of a clothes shop which shows a white dress too, just like your clothes, but the difference is that the dress has an inscription that says 'I love you from the other side.' Just looking at it made Billy cry, which was weird because he wasn't usually like this.

However, he will try to move on, even though he still hopes that the term 'reincarnation' or whatever it is really happens so that you can actually realize the real 'chance'.

Author Note : so..how was it?? I was just idly writing at 2 in the morning, and I can only revise it now, I hope you like it, if you think about it, this is the first time I've written a story that really angst because they can't be together... Do you want me to write more angst? ┬┬＿┬┬

[abyssal-ali]

Stars Around My Scars

Part 2 Cardigan AU Masterlist Part 1

Pairing: Jasonette

Rating: T

Word Count: ~6.2k

For @mochegato. I hope this is fluffy enough for you!

Thank you so much to my very helpful, supportive beta reader @sarcasticbambi 💜

Many thanks also to the inspiring @boldlyanxious, who gave me feedback on the making up scene💜

I Knew You'd Come Back To Me

Two nights after defeating the Untitled, Jason showed up in front of Marinette's door.

“Hi.” She poked her head through the doorway.

“Hey, Marinette. Can we talk?”

She considered his words momentarily, then opened the door wider in silent invitation. He followed her to her living room, where she curled up in the fluffy recliner and picked up her tea mug.

Jason sat nervously on her loveseat, noting her clear boundaries in the choice of seating.

“Would you believe me if I gave you a good reason for my odd actions?”

“I'll decide 'good reasons,'” she interjected. “Let's hear them.”

“I'm Red Hood. I was on Bat and Hood business when I left all those times. I would have told you sooner, but I saw how hurt you were after you told me about Multimouse and I knew I couldn't drag you into that again, so I just… kept quiet. I figured out you're Onyx from the things you said and I saw how capable you are and… I had to… At least tell you why I did those things. I know I broke your trust and I am very sorry for that. I was trying not to hurt you, but in doing so I still hurt you in a way I promised myself I never would, and I am so sorry for that.”

Marinette sat in silence and Jason focused on his breathing so he wouldn't panic while she considered his words.

“You're the Red Hood...and you know I'm Onyx,” she finally said slowly.

Jason nodded.

“Why tell me now? We broke up. We could've avoided each other. Do you feel guilty that you figured my identity out, so you're giving me equal footing?”

“Well, I do feel guilty, but mostly because I didn't trust you enough to tell you sooner and let you make your own decisions about it. I did know you kept in contact with your hero friends, and I should've given you the choice of what to do with my information, at least. That is what I feel guilty about.”

Marinette put her mug down on the coaster and leaned forwards a teeny bit. “So was anything else a lie?”

“No, I never lied to you about anything except my night job, I promise, Pi- Marinette.”

“I need time to think about this, Jay. I'll text you when I'm ready, okay?”

Jason nodded and left.

He wasn't happy, but he was relieved that she had listened and was thinking it over. She'd also addressed him as Jay, not Jason, so that was a good sign. At least she didn't seem to hate him completely.

He just hoped she knew how sorry he was, even if he never saw her again.

•○•○•○•

Marinette was back at school, but they avoided each other like the plague and barely saw even a glimpse of each other's hoodie when they weren't in the same classes.

Nine days later, Jason's phone buzzed with the specific tone he had set for Marinette's contact.

Pixie: Can we talk tonight?

Yes!

Me: Yours, mine, neutral ground?

Pixie: Mine is okay. Can you bring supper from your secret Chinese supplier?

Me: Absolutely. Usual order?

Pixie: Yes, please.

Pixie: Can you make it for 5:45?

Me: I'll be there.

The three dots of typing ceased and Jason flung his phone onto his couch and commenced panicking.

What was he going to face?

What should he wear? Dress up nicely to show her he was making an effort, or his usual tee and sweats or jeans to keep it casual?

What was he gonna say? He should definitely keep apologising, but he didn't want to sound like a broken record and seem like he was pressuring her into getting back together or forgiving him.

Oh, did his freezer have enough ice cream to last future-him's depression if she said she hated him and would never talk to him again?

Finally, he slapped himself out of the spiral of anxiety and made himself think logically.

She wanted to talk, and she wanted him to bring them both dinner, so clearly she wasn't going to yell and then kick him out. She didn't completely hate him, because she wanted food, and she still trusted him to bring their dinner. Plus, it was one of “their” things to go on dates or study dates and then come back and have Chinese at hers and watch a movie or hang out; so she still wanted their tradition.

So far, she was giving positive signs.

Okay. He could work with that.

•○•○•○•

At 5:45 on the dot he knocked on her door and was let in.

His brain short-circuited momentarily as Marinette appeared in his her Wonder Woman tee and jeans, and then nervous anxiety set in as she took the bag of food with a slight smile and headed to the kitchen to set it out. He'd finally decided on toeing the line between formal and casual, wearing jeans and a green button-down instead of his usual tee and/or hoodie, but it appeared Marinette went for straight casual.

What if she felt underdressed? He didn't want to make her feel even more uncomfortable (the tension in her body language was very obvious).

He finally got his feet to move and followed her to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves as he went. It was a little breezy outside, but rather warm in her apartment. No wonder she hauled out the tees, even though it was only March.

•○•○•○•

Marinette impatiently yanked the door open for Jason, unsurprised by his punctuality and waiting nervously.

While she'd stress-baked and stress-cleaned she'd tried to nail down the wording she wanted, but kept getting distracted and more stressed. Now, she hastily combed her memories for her explanation while she had a moment alone since Jason was staying in the foyer, for some reason.

Oh dear, had she made him feel unwelcome?

Was this a sign of his reluctance to associate with her anymore? What if he wanted to stay broken up? He deserved someone who wouldn't drag him down with their own traumas-

She heard him finally follow her and turned to smile welcomingly at him. He was focused on rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and oh, he knew what he was doing, maybe he did still want them to be together.

That was illegal, surely, or unethical at the very least, giving her health problems this early on in life.

Reminding herself to breathe, she got out two pairs of chopsticks (her own, not the small bamboo ones the restaurant provided) and tried to act unaffected by his blatant show of forearm.

“I thought we could talk in the living room and watch the sunset while we have supper,” she waved at the penthouse's wide scenic view of Gotham's Diamond District and the faint line of ocean blue on the horizon peeking through the skyscrapers.

•○•○•○•

“Sounds good.” He nervously flipped the knife in his pocket around his fingers.

Why was she still so tense? Maybe she was overthinking it too; that sounded like Marinette.

They settled by the window with their food, on opposite ends of the couch, and ate quietly for several minutes.

Finally, Marinette spoke up. “I have many conflicting feelings about everything, but I've simplified them and worked them out; the bottom line is, I forgive you. I know the struggle of wondering how much to say and worrying if those you care about will be in more danger if you tell them, so I know how hard that must have been.”

She sighed and chewed a piece of broccoli slowly. “It's not easy being a hero.”

A spring roll later, she continued, “I won't deny that I was hurt by your lack of trust, and I am still hurt, but I don't hold it against you. I considered telling you that I was the Guardian, myself, but decided against it. I do appreciate you attempting not to hurt me, even if it didn't work out.”

Marinette inhaled deeply and Jason almost fell off the couch in tense anticipation of her next utterance.

“If… You are still willing...I'd like to continue our relationship, but with mutual trust in each other this time.”

“You really want to? I know I really hurt you, Mari, I-”

“Yes, Jason. I've thought it over and weighed our relationship carefully, and I want to continue. No relationship is easy, and I must confess I was waiting for the other shoe to drop part of the time, even when I ignored the suspicion of your...activities. Now that we know where the other stands — we do know, right?” she looked at him suddenly, a little panicked.

"I think so, but we should go over them once you're done talking, just to make sure,” he replied. “We know where each other stands now, so...?”

“...we can have a more trusting relationship and we'll likely be a lot happier not hiding all the hero secrets?”

Jason smiled happily at her. “I'd like nothing better, Marinette.”

He was about to ask to clarify where each other stood when she burst out.

“Now that that's settled, will you please stop calling me Marinette?”

“...uh… What else am I supposed to call you?”

“You always call me Pixie or Pix, except when you're super serious, and I missed it,” She pouted.

“I thought you didn't like that I called you tiny?” He grinned.

“...I liked your nickname, though,” she mumbled.

“Okay, Pixie. Now, where do we stand with each other?”

“We have no more secrets to hide, right?”

“I don't think I've forgotten any...” he mused.

“Good. We know the other is a hero-slash-vigilante, we want to be together without any secrets, and if we need to go hero-ing, we'll let the other know first. Did I miss anything?”

“I don't think so. If we think of something, we can always bring it up at a later time.”

“That sounds fair,” she agreed. “Now that all the details are hashed out, can I have a hug? I missed you.”

Be still my heart.

“Of course, Pix, you don't need to ask.” He held his arms out in invitation.

She moved their dishes to the coffee table and scooched over to snuggle beside him, his arm wrapped around her.

“Cozy, Pixie?”

She nodded. “Quite. I'm so glad we worked that out, I missed you so much. Even when I didn't know you were a hero, I felt that you understood me better than most.”

“I'm sorry I never told you anything.”

She wiggled around to face him. “I forgive you, you can stop apologising now. We both kept secrets and that hurt us. We've learned from this, hopefully, and we're planning on doing better in the future. We don't need to keep rehashing an already finished subject...unless you think it's necessary?”

“No, I just...you're the best thing I have, right now, Pix, and I'm infinitely sorry that I hurt you. I guess I just need to forgive myself.”

“...If you're sure that's all, then. Try not to beat yourself up too much over it or I'll be sad, okay?”

“Whatever my Pixie commands,” he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

•○•○•○•

"Hey, Jay.”

Jason opened his eyes and looked at Marinette, curled up and leaning on his chest.

“Yeah?”

“I know it's a sensitive subject, but how's it going with your family?”

He sighed. “Not great. When we broke up I was really mad at B because I was always leaving you to help him and kinda blamed him for our breakup. I didn't tell him about you, because then he would've gotten all nosy and you don't deserve that, but I yelled at him for a lot of stuff. I probably set our progress back a few months.”

“I thought you were doing Bat or Hood business when you ran off?”

“...Wait, did I not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Uh, Batman is my dad...and the rest are my siblings.”

Marinette was quiet for a worryingly long time. “I should have put that together,” she said at last.

“Yeah, it's a...thing. It's not really broadcast, because Hood is still on iffy terms with the Bats and it would be suspicious if Red Hood suddenly reconciled with them at the same time Jason Todd's death was repealed. There are enough scarily accurate theories about the Waynes being the Bats, we don't need to give them more information to prove their hunch.”

“The Waynes — the Waynes are the Bats?!” Marinette yelped, sitting upright and muttering in French under her breath.

“I didn't tell you that either? I'm sorry, I thought you knew and were just being polite and ignoring the elephant in the room.”

“I ignore the news, especially about celebrities. It's usually gossip or dramatically inflated rumours, so I never take it as a reliable source on any of them if I do see 'reports'.”

“I wish everyone had your maturity,” he half-joked. “Yeah, the Waynes are the vigilante protectors of Gotham — the Batfamily, as they are called by some — confirmed. More with Red Hood at 9. I'm Vicki Vale, Gotham Gazette,” he mocked. “You got the first-hand report.”

“That makes a lot of sense actually...” Marinette mused. “So that's why you were so popular in the beginning of the school year?”

“Yep. It always pays to be in the Waynes’ favour, or at least not their disfavour. It's actually part of what made me notice you, how you ignored me and challenged me instead of trying to grovel or be friends. That and how quiet you were with everyone else. You were new, too, but you seemed happy that you weren't getting as much attention as me.”

“I just wanted a drama-free final year,” she mourned. “No boyfriend, no hero-ing, just school...look at me — a boyfriend, a breakup, defeating the Untitled after my Miraculous, being the translator for the Parisian class — what happened to my quiet year?”

“I'm sorry, Pix.”

“It's fine. I got one fewer enemy after me and I got a wonderful boyfriend out of it! It's not a bad trade-off, in my opinion.”

○○○○○○○

A Friend to All is a Friend to None A couple months later

“The Parisian class arrives today.” Marinette nervously picked at the hem of her skirt.

“It'll be fine, Pix, I promise. I'll be right here beside you all day. This is your turf and you're fighting for it, remember? And you have a Wayne backing you, so the school will definitely not hold back if anyone tries anything.”

“Thanks, mon chére, you're right; though I hope we won't need to use your father's name.”

“Don't worry about me, Pix. And you know what I think? You've told me so much about how selectively dumb they are, that they probably won't recognize you with your new style and last name.”

“You have a point. Honestly, they probably wouldn't notice me even if I only grew my hair out,” she rolled her eyes and pulled him into the school. “Let's get it over with.”

No one batted an eye at her blatant manhandling (emphasis on the man), since the past few weeks they'd acted much closer than before, likely from meeting to practise their French and go over the details of their volunteering. (Mrs. Perez's Marison-shipping-heart was well-fed lately, and she took credit for forcing them to work together in the first place months ago.)

“Channel your inner Ladybug and your outer Marinette Stone confidence, Pix. You got this!” Jason whispered as they walked over to Mr. Patel, who was preparing for the welcoming speech and reiterating the rules for the host and visiting classes.

Thankfully, the speech was fairly short and their introductions brief.

Principal Luther introduced Jason and Marinette as the class's hosts and translators, ‘Mr. Todd' and 'Ms. Stone’.

Then everyone was dismissed and Marinette and Jason decided how to divide the class.

Once everyone was seated and introduced to their temporary classmates, Marinette quickly ran through the introductory notes she'd prepared.

“Good morning, I am one of your temporary translators, Marinette Stone. My partner, Jason, and I have already completed the content you will be learning, so we can help explain as needed. If you need help, just raise your hand and we'll translate as you need. Please respect the fact that there are only two of us, so it may take a minute to reach you. Your teacher, Ms. Lee, also speaks some French, so she may be able to help as well. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

From the back of the room, Jason gave her a sneaky thumbs-up, telling her that his recording of her was complete. If her ex-classmates recognized her and tried something, he'd have video proof of everything.

She smirked back and headed to her seat beside him, which had a lovely vantage point of the whole classroom.

"So, you have Juleka, Chloe, Rose, Ivan, Mylene, Marc, and Alix?”

“Yep. I'm good with that, as long as you have Lila, Alya, Adrien, Kim, and Sabrina,” Marinette responded. “They'll be the ones asking for the most help.”

“Chloe and Juleka know who you are, right?” Jason whispered.

"Yeah. No one knows C and I made up because I left fairly soon after, and Jules and I made up when Uncle Jagged talked to her. They'll be fine."

•○•○•○•

For the next two weeks, the exchange program went fairly smoothly - Ms. Lee wouldn't buy Lila & Co™'s excuses/lies, Lila couldn't flirt with Jason too much because he loudly announced that he had a girlfriend and she was making him uncomfortable, and the class didn't visibly recognize Marinette with her new style and name change.

On the final day of the exchange, Jason and Marinette rode in on his motorcycle (that no one was allowed to touch).

The curious GA students were buzzing over the latest gossip — was this year's most popular ship actually coming true?!

Money was to be made on this, after all, many students had secret betting pools on what stage the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers arc was exactly at.

One of Marinette's kind-of friends bravely walked up was pushed forward by everyone else in the betting pool she was part of to ask about their relationship status.

Jason and Marinette laughed in their faces and said they'd been dating for months.

The news spread quickly among the gossip mills but was quickly silenced when over the intercom, their names were called and their presence requested at the front office.

The couple shrugged at each other and walked leisurely hand-in-hand to the office.

•○•○•○•

Caline Bustier, Lila Rossi, and Principal Luther were waiting.

Marinette sighed. “What?” she asked sharply.

“Mlle. Rossi here says you are a missing person from Paris and a con artist. You dated her boyfriend, M. Agreste, until his father's company went broke, and then came here to trick the Waynes, she claims. She also says you were unprofessional and ignored her all the time when she requested help in class.” Thankfully, Principal Luther looked sceptical of Lila's charges.

“Right. Well, Mlle. Rossi here also claims to have saved Uncle Jagged kitten from being run over by an aeroplane, and that she has tinnitus from that event, and later became Uncle Jagged's muse,” Marinette stated flatly.

Principal Luther looked like she was repressing a smile. "I see. But how is this pertinent to the allegations against you?”

“It's proof that she claims ridiculous things. You can call Uncle Jagged if — actually, his daughter, Juleka, is in Lila's class. You can confirm with her about Lila's stories, and prove that she is lying about them. I did date Adrien Agreste, but I broke up with him because he was cheating on me with Lila. It was just after we split that Gabriel went under, but that was because of his acts of terrorism. And I actually didn't know Jason was a Wayne until a few weeks ago when he told me. He goes by Jason Todd, and I don't pay attention to celebrity news, so I had no way of knowing he was a Wayne.

“Also, I came here because it's Uncle Jagged's hometown and he helped me escape Paris, which wasn't helping with my PTSD - which is also partly caused by Mlle. Rossi bullying me. I did not ignore her in class, Jason and I already agreed on how to divide our translating responsibilities. I did not purposely not help her. If you want proof, Jason and I have texts detailing our dividing.”

Principal Luther scrutinised Marinette and Lila, then turned to Jason. “Mr. Todd, any comments?”

“Marinette isn't a gold-digger. She didn't know I was a Wayne ‘til I told her, and my family ran a background check on her — she's clean. And Marinette isn't a missing person or a runaway — her godfather Jagged had her parent's blessing to help her move to Gotham, and her parents are working on closing their bakery and moving here to be with her. Her friends, Chloé Bourgeois, and Juleka and Luka Couffaine, knew she was here. Also, no missing person report was filed for her. I've been with Marinette for several months now, and I'm sure that she isn't faking the repercussions of her PTSD and Li- Mlle. Rossi's bullying."

“Juleka Couffaine to head office, please.”

Juleka arrived a minute later and confirmed Marinette's story. She also called Jagged and he immediately jumped to Marinette and Juleka's defence.

“Thank you, Mlle. Couffaine. Please return to class. Miss Stone and Mr. Todd, I think it's alright if I give you a pass. You can have the day off. Before you go, could I have a word with Miss Stone in my office?”

Marinette followed Principal Luther into her tiny, cramped office behind the larger antechamber where she'd been pleading her case.

“I'm sorry for the way they treated you, Miss Stone. If you knew it was your class, though, why didn't you turn down the volunteer role? I assure you we wouldn't have held it against you.”

“Um… I guess I was just used to my old school in Paris, and how they supported Lila, so it didn't really occur to me. And I thought I'd like to see my friends, at least. Jason dealt with the ones who were the meanest to me or needed the most help, so I didn't have to interact with them that much.....Plus, I was kind of planning my revenge. I wanted to get records of them to turn in to the proper authorities so they could be punished.”

Principal Luther sighed. “Marinette… alright. Is your mental health okay? Will you need another couple of days off?”

“No, I should be okay. Thank you, though. Jason has really helped me with my mental health, and I'm seeing a therapist.”

“Okay… Don't worry about translating at the goodbye party tonight. I'll find someone else to do it. Thank you for your help these past two weeks.”

“You're welcome! Have a good day. I don't envy you dealing with the class,” she sympathised.

She left the small office, completely ignoring Lila and Mme. Bustier's mean faces, striding quickly to the door, where Jason awaited.

“Hey, Pix. Are you good?”

“Yeah, she wanted to thank us for our work and apologise for making me translate. We don't have to translate tonight either.”

“Sweet! What do you want to do, then?”

“Go home and watch a movie?”

“Sure. Let's go.”

Jason took her hand and they escaped to his bike.

○○○○○○○

Giving me Your Weekends

The next morning Jason got Marinette to visit the Manor for Saturday brunch. They pulled up at ten to eight, and Jason warned Marinette once again of the craziness and suspicion that was sure to barrage her.

“Jay, I'll be fine. I'll take their suspicion as a sign that they care for you, because they want to make sure I'm not going to hurt you.”

He smiled at her. “You're so optimistic. But you're right, that's a good way to look at it. Thanks, Pix.”

He kissed her head and led her into the chaos.

Damian was chasing Tim downstairs with his katana. Dick was on the chandelier shouting for both of them to slow down with sharp objects and Steph was stealing a waffle from the stack Alfred had made, choking on its texture. Babs, Bruce, Cass, and Alfred were nowhere to be seen.

The chandelier spun as Dick wiggled on it and he caught sight of the newcomers. The shouting and chaos ceased immediately.

“Jay! You're here for breakfast!” Dick flipped off the chandelier. “And you brought a guest, welcome,” he smiled charmingly at Marinette, but she could see the cloud of questions in his eyes.

Alfred materialised and gave Damian the 'put-your-katana-away' stare.

“Master Jason, you came for brunch today? I'm so glad to see you, my boy. And who is this?” he smiled warmly at Marinette, who thrust a plate of homemade waffles at him.

“It's nice to meet you, Alfred! I'm Marinette. I made some waffles for breakfast, and couldn't just show up empty-handed. Hope that's okay!” her voice was higher-pitched in her anxiousness to have Alfred like her, but he just took the plate and handed it to Tim with a stern glance.

“It's wonderful to meet you, Marinette. Brunch is almost ready, and these look lovely. I'm afraid mine will never turn out as good, although I tried a new recipe today...” he saw Steph's frozen face of revolt and sighed.

“Ah. This didn't work either. I'm sure Stephanie would love to be your critic. Please sit down, everyone will be here momentarily.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at everyone, suddenly nervous, and Jason put his arm supportingly around her waist and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Ignore them, Pix, they'll warm up to you soon enough.”

The present Batfamily members sat down at the table somewhat robotically, sizing Marinette (and Jason) up.

"So, you're Marinette? I'm Dick Grayson, Jason's older brother. I assume you're his girlfriend?”

She smiled, “You are correct.”

“So… how'd you meet Jay?”

“Um, at school. A teacher paired us up on a project, and we got to know each other and liked what we saw.”

Bruce and Babs came in, discussing a new update to their filing system, and paused when they saw the visitors.

Jason stood up. “Cass, I know you're here somewhere, so since we're all here I'm only going to say this once: This is Marinette, my girlfriend. I expect nothing, but I hope you'll be polite since she's the reason we're even here in the first place.”

The family eyed Marinette after Jason's declaration until Steph broke the silence.

“These waffles are so good, Marinette! You said you made them yourself?”

“I did, Jason told me you all liked waffles. He helped, of course.”

“They're amazing. Do you bake a lot?”

“I stress bake, and I grew up in a bakery, so I know how to make a lot of baked goods.”

“Welcome, Marinette. I'm Jason's father, Bruce. It's nice to meet you,” Bruce smiled at her but she could see him calculating. “Do I detect a French accent?”

“It's a pleasure to meet you as well, monsieur. And yes, you do. I'm from Paris. I moved here last summer for my final school year.”

Switching the focus from her, she casually asked as she took a sausage from the plate Cass handed her, “Jay hasn't told me much about his family, beyond you being loud and crazy, so I'm looking forward to getting to know you all. What sort of hobbies do you have?”

Dick cleared his throat. “I'm an acrobat, and I teach gymnastics and aerial skills at a gym in Bludhaven some days. I also like solving puzzles, like most of the rest of us. Timmy is pretty good at computer games and stuff like that,” he nudged his brother jovially.

“Oh, do you know UMSIII?” Marinette leaned forwards eagerly to face Tim.

“Jay refuses to play with me anymore.”

“You don't even leave me a chance, Pix,” he grumbled under his breath and she smiled sweetly at him.

“I've heard of it,” Tim acknowledged. “I take it you play? We mostly have MarioKart marathons in this house.”

“Oh, nice!” Marinette turned to Alfred. “Your French Toast is delicious, Monsieur Alfred.”

“Thank you, Miss Marinette. Perhaps we could exchange some recipes later?”

“I'd love to!” she grinned at him and looked at Damian, who was clearly eyeing her for nefarious intentions. “And I don't believe we've been introduced yet, I'm Marinette.”

“Damian,” he grunted, sounding like a mini-Bruce. “Do you like animals?”

“I do! Unfortunately, I never got a pet because I lived above a bakery, so for health and hygiene reasons it wasn't feasible, but I love playing with them when I can."

“I will introduce you to Titus, Alfred the Cat, and Batcow after brunch if you desire,” he said stiffly.

“I'd love to meet your pets, thank you for offering!”

“So you attend GA with Jason?” Babs asked, finally speaking up now that most of the Bats had their mouths full of food.

“Yes. We were both the only new transfer students this year, so we had some camaraderie. We have most of the same classes together, which is nice.”

The inquisition calmed after that and normal conversation flowed, but all in all, it was the most subdued family meal the Wayne table had seen in a while.

After breakfast, Alfred requested Jason's help with the dishes, presumably to interrogate him, and Damian kidnapped Marinette to meet his pets.

Titus absolutely loved her and became her new best friend. Damian was surprised at his Great Dane's reaction since Titus was normally wary of strangers until he okayed them.

Even Alfred the Cat warmed up to her quickly, possibly smelling the Camembert on her from when she'd fed Plagg before coming for brunch.

“What are your intentions with my brother?” Damian inquired as he led Marinette to Batcow's stable out back.

She smiled slightly at his protectiveness and replied, “I have no intentions with him beyond making him happy. I hope that means we stay together for a very long time, maybe eventually marry, but if we agree that he's better off without me...then I'll go. I don't think that will happen, though."

“I approve of your commitment. Father also wants to talk with you, I believe. Once Batcow has sufficient pets, I shall escort you to Father’s office.”

“Thank you, Damian. Oh, hello, Batcow! Aren’t you gorgeous, petit vache,” she cooed.

•○•○•○•

Damian showed Marinette the way to Bruce’s office, and she stepped inside when he bid her enter.

“I must admit I was quite surprised when Jason showed up for family brunch this morning, and even brought a guest,” Bruce started as soon as she sat in the comfy leather chair before his desk.

“Jason hasn’t been…very active with our family, lately. I believe I have you to thank for encouraging his visit?”

“Yes, M. Wayne. He hasn’t spoken to me about much of you – I didn’t even know his family were the Waynes until a couple months ago–but I did want to meet all of you, since you are all important to him.”

“Thank you for the encouragement, Mlle. Stone. I had wondered if I had driven him away for good, after the last fight we had. Looking back on it now, I think it was because of you that he was so angry with me. He certainly acted more strangely than normal, like he was protecting someone or something, with all his warnings not to spy on him.”

“He told me he was quite angry with you for constantly calling him away on our dates, and he worried he’d set your progress back months. I do hope that’s not the case.”

Bruce noticed a cold edge to Marinette’s previously polite, warm tone.

“Of course not, I was merely confused at his sudden anger. I didn't know he was dating anyone. I can give you my word that it certainly wasn’t a targeted attack against him or your relationship.”

“Good. I think we should all get on well, then. Is there anything else you wanted to ask me?”

“...No. Thank you for your time, and for coming for brunch with Jason. I’m quite pleased to have met you.”

“You as well, M. Wayne.”

Marinette left the office and walked into an eavesdropping Jason.

“Hey, Jay. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just waiting for you. The others want to interrogate you now, but we don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to…” he nodded at Bruce’s now-closed office door.

"I’m fine, Bruce just wanted to thank me for coming and bringing you. I’ll go be questioned by the rest of your siblings now.”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the family sitting room,” he took her hand and they walked side-by-side, following the increasingly louder noises of all his siblings in one room.

“Dami didn’t scare you away?” asked Dick as soon as they entered the room.

Marinette shook her head. “He was quite polite, and I really enjoyed my time with him. So, what do you guys do for fun around here? All Jay has said is that it’s loud and chaotic and you take things to extremes.”

“Regular games are too boring, so we spice them up with house rules or dares, stuff like that,” said Tim, slurping something out of a 42-oz mug.

Steph grinned sharply. “How about some icebreakers? Truth or Dare, perhaps?”

“I’m in,” Marinette said immediately, to Jason’s horror but not his surprise.

She plopped on the couch between Babs and Cass and motioned for Jason to join, which he did reluctantly.

Babs was usually the mediator/emcee/referee, so she explained Bat-Truth or Dare* quickly and the game began.

They had cards specially made that said ‘truth’ or ‘dare’ on them, which removed any bias for one choice over the other. The second deck of cards, which were blank and only coloured in to match the ‘truth’ and ‘dare’ cards, were dealt as in Uno, though only 5 cards were dispersed, not seven; a separate, communal stack of the ‘truth’ and ‘dare’ cards was shuffled by Babs and placed in the middle of the table.

The first person to play a card of corresponding colour then won the right to give a dare or ask a question to the original card player.

Jason began and played a green ‘truth’ card.

Dick slapped the matching green card in his hand down and asked excitedly, “When did you first meet Marinette? Was it love at first sight?”

Jason groaned. “One question, Dick. This is all gonna be about our relationship, isn’t it?” he added to Marinette, who nodded sympathetically at him.

“I first saw her when we passed each other in the street. A couple days later, I officially met her at school, ‘cause we were both transfers and in the same class.”

It was Marinette’s turn and she picked up a pink dare card. Steph immediately played her matching card with a victorious crow and turned to her future sister-in-law.

“I dare you to let Tim post something on one of your social media accounts.”

Marinette made eye contact with Jason and they immediately knew what each other was thinking.

She handed her phone over to Tim, open to Janette@pothamcrack on Twitter.

He typed for a few moments, then tossed her phone back.

She caught it and read the tweet. “'I’m secretly a celebrity but I bet none of you will guess who',” she giggled. “Oh really? Jay, I’m famous, too!”

She turned from her boyfriend to his brother. “Which celebrity am I?”

“Wonder Woman, of course,” Jason interrupted. “Because you’re just that wonderful.”

Damian physically cringed at the cheesiness, though the rest of the players cheered at it, and Marinette blushed only a shade darker than Jason, who realised he just said that in front of his family.

“MOVING ON,” Marinette announced loudly, as Cass leaned forwards for her card.

The game went fairly smoothly after that, though as Jason predicted, they were mostly encouraged to spill things about their relationship.

“Okay, final round,” announced Babs, seeing Marinette pick up the final card, which was a truth.

Jason played his card and asked, “What’s one thing you haven’t told anyone before?”

“Uh…I hope next time we play this it’s as the Bats so we can do even more unhinged dares!"

With that shocking revelation, she grabbed Jason’s hand and they sprinted to his bike before they could be detained for even more questioning.

They sped out of the Manor property and headed to Marinette’s apartment, making sure to take detours to drop the trackers in random places and lose their tail.

Marinette unlocked her door and they entered her apartment, giggling at the hoax they’d successfully pulled off.

They kicked off their shoes and Marinette headed to the kitchen to wash her waffle-making dishes, which she’d left to soak while they had brunch, and froze.

“Hello, Jason,” said an unfamiliar voice from her living room, soft but deadly.

○○○○○○○

THE END

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Constructive criticism is accepted and any feedback welcome, but please be nice because I'm really proud of this AU.

Funfact: Although this half is almost 1k longer than the first half, both halves have almost the exact same amount of characters (letters, not people characters).

*Bat-Truth or Dare rules here (I literally made these up in 15 minutes yesterday, enjoy)!

My beta has assured me that I am evil for the ending, and I took the compliment.

Anyways, y'all don't have to worry too much, I'm already working on the extra scene that picks up where this ends. Feel free to guess who's in Marinette’s living room; I'd love to hear your thoughts!

If there's an extra scene you want to see, or a lyric from Cardigan you want used in thus AU, send it in and I'll see what I can do!

[11queensupreme11]

Should “Tsunami” be tagged as Dead Dove?

(I can’t create polls for some reason, so please just comment your answer on the post 🥲)

First off, sorry for the lack of updates for Tsunami but I really need help with this!

Okay, I’m kinda still new-ish when it comes to Ao3. I’ve been using it to read fics, but I’m dumb when it comes to writing on that website. One thing keeps bugging me and it’s the Dead Dove tag. 

I’ve read TONS of dead dove fics over the years so I’ve always equated it with extremely dark shit like graphic cannibalism (where it’s written IN DETAIL that a character is eating someone, and not just the author writing “and then Character B ate Character C”), graphic incest (again, written in detail and not just subtle or briefly mentioned), extreme gore, graphic mutilation, body disfigurement, etc etc etc. Just extremely fucked up shit that could make your stomach turn. 

I never equated yandere fics with the dead dove tag because most yandere fics I’ve read don’t include the super graphic stuff I’ve listed above. They’re always “ML goes crazy and obsessive over FL and he might noncon her” but that’s pretty much as far as they go.

But then I read some other dark fics tagged with dead dove that don’t actually have those super gruesome stuff I mentioned above. Like, they’re dark fics yes, but there’s no brutal violence, gore, cannibalism, or any of the super toe-curling gross stuff, it was all pretty mild yet they were still tagged as “dead dove” so I started to wonder “oh shit, did I misunderstand the dead dove tag then???”

I never actually googled what dead dove meant, I just read so many fucked up fics with the dead dove tag and guessed the meaning, so I actually looked it up for the first time ever and found this helpful post (which I also reblogged so it should be down below here). 

I’m still pretty lost though because YES, the post said dead dove should be for extremes, but like.... I’ve seen some dark fics that aren’t extreme yet still tagged dead dove, so I’m just going “fuck it, I’ll just ask my readers what they want” 

So here’s my question for you readers: SHOULD TSUNAMI BE TAGGED AS DEAD DOVE IN AO3?

There’s no extreme gore, cannibalism, and all that, but there is gonna be rape/noncon of my underage MC (which I properly tagged in ao3 at the beginning so dw), and it’ll be explicitly written just like all my other smut scenes. 

I’m also planning another fic (it’s a crossover of pjo and record of ragnarok with fem!Percy) which’ll have mild incest vibes??? Maybe, I’m debating leaving it up for interpretation, but yeah. It’ll be another dark yandere fic and it MIGHT be darker than Tsunami, so yeah. If you guys decide Tsunami should be a dead dove, then this new fic should probs be dead dove too lmao

[the0ldmann]

Shaun and MC get into a small argument over his newest project.

"Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack" is adult only media, and the associated fandom is an adult only space. Minors and ageless blogs are reminded to stay away or they will be blocked on sight.

Writing below the cut.

"You're going to do WHAT?!"

"Hey, hey, calm down. I know you don't like horror, but this is a little out of character don't you think? What's got you so worked up?"

Shaun was standing there confused while Ian was in the background holding a blue wig and looking as equally perplexed. It was clear by the expression on your face you were angry as hell, fists clenched at your side.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Why the hell should I calm down when you're defacing some poor man's legacy?!"

"It's not defacing a legacy it's- look. We were hired by the company to make a horror movie about a character they've had sitting in a vault. It's not like that character is modeled after anyone real!"

"Excuse me, but some guy trying to make sense of his life, takes on the role, gets killed in the role so it's all he was ever known for, and the company apparently erases any trace of him or the role if the fact internet searches turning up nothing means anything. You look at all of that and tell me that taking this story and turning it into some spooky mumbo-jumbo isn't defacing a legacy. Go on."

"When you put it like that, it certainly doesn't sound good. B-but it's just a character, and this is our breakout chance! It's not like you knew the man yourself or his family, so why the hell is this striking such a nerve?"

"You know what, I can't do this anymore right now." A proper response was not something you could think of without giving away Jack's precarious existence, so you turned around and stormed off with a huff. You slammed the door to your bedroom behind you. Leaning against it, you closed your eyes and slid down to the floor. Your breathing was ragged and you were shaking as you could feel gloved hands pick you up off the floor.

Gently Jack placed you on your bed and then swiftly went over to lock the door. You were already starting to curl up when he came over to lay down next to you.

"Hey, Sunshine, are you alright?" All you could do was shake your head as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close.

"No. I can't believe what they're doing. You're a person too, and I just-"

"Shhh," Jack was doing his best to calm you, "I know, and I appreciate you standing up for me. But you've got me more worried about you! I've never seen you this worked up before, and anyone being this worked up is liable to say things they regret or even hurt themselves on accident. You being hurt because of me is the last thing I want."

"I know, I know, I just..." You struggled to even your breathing. Jack held you close while you proceeded to silently cry into his chest. You were scared. People were assholes, and if this movie made it big like everyone- like the studio- wanted, then it was going to be impossible for Jack to avoid facing it. You knew he was set in the ways of this character, you knew and you've grown to accept it.

But had Jack come to fully accept it? How was this going to affect him? Was he going to break down at all in the barrage of what people were going to see him as? Especially if that something just wasn't him?

You didn't know how he'd handle it at all. If he broke down, if he disappeared and you lost him and were left all alone again...

"Hey," you could feel him rubbing circles into your back. "We're going to figure this out, okay? If they won't listen to reason, then there's got to be a way to stop the project."

meanwhile...

"Dude, what the fuck was that about?" Ian went back to trying to fluff and style the wig, though it was hard to focus after that outburst.

"You mean to tell me you don't have a clue what would have set them off, despite having known them the longest and having also dated them at one point? No wonder the two of you are ex's."

"Hey! That's uncalled for!"

"So was that outburst. Really don't have a clue what could have prompted that?"

"No, not a single one. You were right, that was extremely out of character for them."

Shaun sighed, throwing down some papers and leaning against the table. Ian only looked up briefly to see that he actually looked worried.

"What, you're not actually taking what they're saying to heart, are you?"

"They make a valid point but that's not what I'm concerned about."

"There's something else to be concerned about?"

"You might want to take a seat."

As confused by everything as Ian was, he was more curious as to what the hell Shaun was talking about. He put the wig up and walked over to the table, taking a seat. Shaun kept looking around, and it was about a solid minute before he was able to look at Ian.

"I've been doing digging- on the actors from the old show and I found... Well, there might be something that could throw a wrench into our plans. Rather unfortunately, it might have something to do with your dad..."

[pxppet]

Begin Teeth. Chp. 2

Prodrome. (Part 1)

Prodrome: a medical term for early signs or symptoms of an illness or health problem that appear before the major signs or symptoms start

CW: accidental homophobia, major distress, brief ableism, grief, major character death, anger/argument, flashback & panic, nightmares, sudden intensity & a lot of angst

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

Jackie is distressed. All of them can tell.

His hood is up, headphones on, and his skin is covered from skin-on-skin touch with light runner's gloves and some black socks. Everything about him closed off. Jackie is good with his sensory issues usually, and for Jameson it's something he's never seen outside of criminal-intended magicians. Propped up on the kitchen counter, Jameson observes, paranoid.

"Do you think it's the nightmares?"

Jameson startles and looks beside him, finding Chase, in what he thinks is a baseball cap. He points at himself in confusion. Chase laughs quietly.

"Yes you, dork."

"I don't know." Jameson feels tense. "Why is J-B having nightmares?"

"U-uh." Chase straightens his chest. "I-I don't- know, Jamie."

Jameson can hear his anxiety pick up very obviously. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing man, but a-als- also I need to go to work. M-maybe…" Chase's heart drums, he doesn't know what's okay to say. "May… be. Ask him, you should ask him." Not the right thing, shit! "I need to h-head out, but u-um. Just. Take care Jameson. Bye!"

Chase hurries away on guilty feet, and tries to not break down outside before work.

Jameson walks over to Jackie, curled on the sofa. Jackie looks at him, looking thoroughly miserable. "What's up J-B? What happened?"

-- It's the night before.

Jackie wakes from that same dream, but cut off just as Jack becomes Anti- He shoots up, panting and sweating. His phone is going off. At first he's annoyed, but then his chest twists as he realises it's the Nyan Cat tune- Marvin's ringtone.

"Marvin wh-!"

"Jackie, stop, stop."

Jackie does stop, because Marvin sounds like they're crying.

"Jackie, I can't come home. I can't look at that boy. I can't he's too miserable, it took me so, so long to get over Anti- Anti leaving us like that! Only-! Only to find out Jack fucking made someone in a coma and- and Anti just- took him and tortured him. For three years! Jackie I can't look at him I-… I'm not coming home. I'm staying with either Jace, or Marla from Ulula."

"Marv… what? I can't… I need… I need you to be with me. I can't do it alone, I'm-"

"Jackie, grow up!" Marvin suddenly snarls, sobs, voice popping in the microphone. "We're not newborn and I'm not your baby in a cat mask! I'm not a fucking sidekick and I don't owe you being beside you 24-fucking-7!"

"Don't be a dick to me just because you miss Jack! Stop it! Marvin please. I need y-!"

The phone disconnects. Jackie lets it drop to the floor. Slowly curls his legs to his chest and hides his face.

"No one wants you." It lives in his head. "Grow up," it now addendums. Jackie does not sleep the rest of the night.

--

"I'm okay Jamie," Jackie lies. "Just got in a small fight with Marvin."

"Who?"

Jackie balks. "Holy shit. We forgot to tell you about Marvin?!"

"Who?!" Jameson questions again.

"Um. My- Er. Jack's second born. They haven't been around. At they're boyfriends for- for probably a while."

"Jack can make girls?"

Jackie blinks and does a double take. "Um, no. Marvin isn't a girl."

"But M has a boyfriend."

"Yeah..? Jameson they're gay and nonbinary."

Jameson just stares across to him, lips parted and eyebrows drawn in confusion. But, after a moment, something changes in his eyes.

Back in town, a nurse startles at Jack's arm twitching.

"O-K," Jameson spells. "O-K." Something in his head is placing itself, becoming true, but he doesn't know the words.

There's a pause, silence, Jackie chewing the edge of his hood.

He stands suddenly, gloved hands grasping themselves. "Jameson. I need you to… see something. Can you handle a walk?"

--

Jameson, it turns out, cannot. He trips to the ground after about 5 minutes walking. Jackie picks him up from the dirt of the deer-path below, leading into the forest. He gives him a silent look that Jameson has learned means "Are you okay?" Jameson gives him a nod and smile that means "I'm okay." He's been nonverbally communicating with Jackie a lot since he's been at their house.

Jackie lifts Jameson up bridal-style. "We're almost there, I'm sorry. I can take you the rest." Jameson nods and settles against Jackie's chest as he walks. Jackie is always warm. He feels safe.

Jameson notices a orange glow and signs "Cheat," with a smile. Jackie smiles back, but it's… twisted. Sad. Not like him. Jameson lets his own fall away as he registers something.

The static is coming closer, and it has been this whole time.

Blood cools. No, not Jackie first. Anti can't take Jackie first.

"Jackie, put down. I can walk now."

"Oh, y'sure? Okay." Jackie sets him down.

Jameson sprints full force.

Jackie shouts after him, but Jameson doesn't listen, he has to get to master first so he can go home - so Anti won't take any of those bright and gentle souls to the dirt. He's lost Jackie, following the direction it's loudest, sprinting faster than his recovering body should. Master. Brother. Coming home. Goodbye to his friends, Anti is all there is. He stumbles into a clearing covered in yellow flowers. Anti is here, hidden. Jameson puts two fingers in his lips and whistles loudly, desperately, Anti needs to find him first so J-B can go be happy. Jameson rushes the edges, glances behind and up in trees for all he can see. Not the edge, fuck, fuck, did Anti learn invisibility spells just to get him? Anti? Master? Safe? He charges, literally blind, into the bedded flowers-

He trips over an upright stick, falling to his knees. His breaths heave so hard his chest aches. He can't see anything, the full wave of panic hitting him hard. The static has stopped, and he silently cries, on his knees in the fucking dirt.

Jackie shouts for him and, also panting, comes to stand beside him and freezes.

"I'm sorry, I-! Are you okay?!"

"The static!" Jameson sobs.

"Sta… static? Jamie what static?" Jackie squats beside him, gloved hand hovering above his back.

Jameson punches the dirt. "Anti's static is gone! I followed it but he left me!"

Jackie cringes. "Jameson… That's why we came here. To see… Anti. To see Anti."

Jameson's tearful face turns to him violently fast, neck popping. He sits up, looking at the flower beds, not wild but laid neatly. The stick. Not just a stick. A headstone. Jameson can't see, but Anti's name is on it, carved carefully by Jackie.

Jameson's face furrows up, emotion, no emotion. Nothing. Jackie calls him. Nothing. His limbs fall limp, his lips parted and face upward to the bright, bright sun…

And, completely stiffened in place, he has the first catatonic episode of his life.

[cycle-verse]

Killer seemed more than bewildered when Malevolence pulled his shirt up, knowing it wasn’t something Night would do, before sniffling a bit, "N-Night...?"

“Kills… Kills, Kills…” It was Night now. Malevolence never called Killer Kills, only Dear.

Killer pushed his shirt down and quickly moved to hold onto Nightmare, "N-Nighty..."

Nightmare pushed himself to his feet.

“He was tricking you and then I just… oh god you’re pregnant!” He sobbed against Killer

"I-I am... and..."

Killer basically broke down sobbing in Night's arms, upset that Malevolence now knew what was up.

Nightmare held him as close as he could.

“He… he’s still here but he’s not getting out… I won’t let him, not for as long as I can help it,” Nightmare whispered as he kissed Killer's head.  “I won’t let him do anything,”

Killer let out another sob, tightly holding onto Nightmare.

Nightmare clung to Killer as tight as he could. “I won’t let him hurt you or the soul. I swear,”

Killer nodded with another sob, burying his face in Night's chest.

Nightmare held him close and buried his face against Killer's shoulder, “He was so… proud… that you confused us… that he could trick you like that…”

"I'm s-sorry..."

“It’s not your fault… he tries to do it… trick you…”

"B-But I should b-be able t-to tell..."

“He mimics everything I do if he can… just thinks my nicknames for you are stupid so that’s the only thing he doesn’t do… he won’t call you Kills or Love…”

Killer nodded with a sob and a hiccup.

“I love you Kills,” Nightmare whispered as he kissed Killer before looking him up and down. “And I love this soul, no matter what…”

"I l-love you too... so much..."

“I don’t know how long I have… and I know I want to spend so much with you, but do you think I can go cook the boys breakfast? If I think I’m slipping at all, I’d tell you,”

"G-Go ahead..."

Nightmare kissed Killer again and went downstairs. A few minutes later Dust and Horror appeared outside Killer's door. “Is he really back?

Killer had curled up to keep crying, but he looked at them with a nod, "F-For a bit..."

“Oh good! Yes! Any time with him is better than none, and he’s making waffles!”

"Sounds g-good..."

“Are you okay?” Dust asked after Horror had run downstairs

"M-Malevolence knows..."

“Shit… is that why nights back?”

Killer nodded slowly.

“Okay… okay so we have night though and he’ll know what to do… right?”

"Hopefully... I d-don't know..."

Dust nodded and gulped. “Is it okay if we celebrate him being back? Even if it’s because Makevolence knows?”

"G-Go ahead..."

Dust nodded and ran downstairs to go get breakfast.

Killer let him but stayed in bed.

Nightmare came up a while later with some waffles for him.

Killer sat up when he came in, ready to eat, "Hi..."

“Hi love,” Night hummed, also subtly assuring Killer that it was still him. “So good news, I don’t think Malevolence is completely conscious like I am when he’s in control.”

"G-Good..."

Night nodded and offered Killer a plate, “Are you sure you don’t wanna go live with Ink and Error or something? It’ll be safer… even if Ink’s probably out of commission for a bit.”

"I'm sure, I a-always have been..."

Nightmare sighed and kissed Killer's head, “Okay… but please… if it gets too dangerous, run… at least just to give me the peace of mind that he can’t hurt you…”

Killer nodded, "I will..."

“Thank you… now let’s eat some waffles huh?” Night joked

Killer nodded, reaching for them, "Please..."

Nightmare sat down beside Killer and gave him his plate

Killer quietly started to eat, leaning against Night.

After he was done eating, Killer set his plate aside.

Nightmare took the plate, stacked his own on top of it, and moved to wrap his arms around Killer, “I’ve been thinking… Malevolence only came around what 16-17 years ago? I dealt with terrible negativity before… I’m trying to figure out how to get rid of him… for good,”

Killer nodded, "Maybe... I'm not sure if there is..."

“If he came out of nowhere… I can get rid of him… or I’ll figure out how to stop him for good…”

"Please do..."

“I won’t let him continue like this… not when other lives are involved… I can’t let this keep happening,”

Killer nodded, closing his eyes.

“I love you and… and whatever happens I always love you,”

"I love you too... always..."

[familyvideostevie]

Can you do a Steve Harrington imagine where Jason (or one of the other jocks) corners the reader at War Zone looking for Dustin (I'm impartial to the Henderson!reader trope but her notably being close to Dustin/the kids is up to you) and Steve backs her up/makes sure she is okay since she is relatively level-headed but also notably overprotective and therefore, likely to fight someone if they mess with the kids? I hope this made sense, kinda just like the idea of Steve loving a secret badass

thank you for this request! i went with being close to Dustin and the kiddos, i would do anything for them <3  | 1.2k, fem!reader, a bit of angst then fluff, jason being a little aggressive

The medical supplies section of War Zone is upsettingly small. You have to swallow a somewhat hysterical laugh of disbelief as you look at the two shelves of gauzes and tapes and sterilizing supplies. The warehouse is loud, people yelling and cart wheels squealing, and your head is still pounding with the fading adrenaline high you've been on for who knows how long. But Robin's hands are cut up, Eddie's got a split lip, Nancy is limping, and Steve... Well, Steve is still bleeding beneath his bandages and you are going to sedate him yourself if he doesn't find some shoes soon and let you patch him up.

You smell like the lake and the acrid dust of the Upside Down and you hate being in this store and you want this all to be over. You want everyone to be safe so you can crawl into bed with Steve and never let him out of your arms again.

Someone enters the aisle on your right and you know it's not your boyfriend by the way the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Whoever it is moves into your space too quickly and you tense to not flinch away, but you turn to look. Oh, Christ, you think. Anyone but him.

"Hey," the guy says, trying to sound friendly and failing. "I don't think we've met, but I'm Jason." You keep your torso facing the shelves, arms crossed, and ignore his outstretched hand. He looks absolutely terrible, almost worse than you, and a piece of you wants to feel sorry for him. But that piece disappears very quickly as you see how tense his jaw is when he drops his palm and curls it into a fist at his side. You don't introduce yourself.

Jason smiles at you, and it's a brittle, nasty thing. "I actually know who you are, I think." He puts his fists in the pocket of his letterman jacket and rocks back and forth on his heels, as if you were in a school hallway and he was just saying hi. "You're Harrington's girl."

You press your fingers into your own arms at the mention of Steve. You take a deep breath, and normally this is where you'd walk away, but you've just seen the boy you love more than anything almost die in front of you and your friends are all spooked and bruised and you're pretty sure you're bleeding under your jacket so you stay because you really want to yell at someone.

"And I know you're not involved in all this satanic stuff --" Jason has been talking but you didn't hear what he said -- "but I know that you know some of the kids who might be able to help us find this freak." He takes a step closer and you turn on your heel to face him at the mention of the kids, your blood starting to boil.

"Wheeler, maybe?" Jason taunts. "Or Sinclair? Either one." He's getting cocky now, pretending to have a sudden idea. "Wait, aren't you Dustin Henderson's neighbor? Do you know where he is?" You love all of those shitheads, but you've known Dustin for years. He's like your brother. Jason even saying his name makes you see red.

"And why do you want to know?" you sneer at him, taking a step into his space, hands dropping to your sides. He's a little shocked, taking a step back, but recovers quickly.

"Oh, I just think he might be able to help us out. Good kid like him should want to find that murdering son of a b--"

"It's insulting, Jason," you grind out.

"What is?" He looks alarmed you'd interrupt him.

"That you think I'm stupid. That you think I can't see through you."

His expression darkens, all facade disappearing. You see how deep the bags under his eyes are, how there's something off about him. "Listen to me," he says, reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder, "if you know anything--"

You grab his wrist in midair and squeeze it. "Don't fucking touch me," you hiss. "And don't fucking touch any of those kids, Carver." You dig your fingernails into his sleeve a little. His eyes are wide, like he can't believe this has turned against him.

"You think Chrissy would like you hunting children for her? We both know that's not true," you spit out. He's so angry and you should be scared, you would be normally, but how dare he come for Dustin, for the kids, for you in this store full of weapons and death. You figure you have about five seconds before your blood boils over and you try to punch him.

But then there's someone behind you and you know immediately that it's Steve -- and it sounds like he's found some shoes. You always know when he's in the room, your eyes open or closed. He's a sun you orbit around, like you're tied together by an invisible length of string. He puts a hand on the small of your back, eying the way you're holding Jason's wrist but doesn't step in, knowing you're handling it. But he's there, and that's all you need.

"Hey," he says loudly. "Everything okay?" His voice grounds you a little, slows your racing heart. As much as you want to punch Jason, you want to get back to your friends more.

"Yeah, Jason was just leaving." You let go of him and flash a razor sharp smile. Something in it plus Steve's looming presence sends Jason out of the aisle without another word. As soon as he's out of sight your shoulders drop and you turn back to the shelves, grabbing items blindly and shoving them into Steve's arms.

"So uh, what was that?" he asks you. Your gaze drifts to his neck and the wound there tightens the knots in your stomach. He must be in so much pain, but he's here, supporting you.

"He threatened the kids. Asked me about Dustin." His eyebrows furrow, mouth turning down at the edges.

"Motherfucker," he spits.

"This is such a disaster, Steve," you mumble, the energy draining out of you. "How are we going to keep them safe? How am I going to keep you safe?"

"Hey," he says. "I'd hold you, sweetheart, but I'm a shopping cart, apparantly." You chuckle, but it's weak. "We're going to keep each other safe. That's what we do. And now we have a plan so all we can do is try, okay? We'll try."

"I know." You take a few things from him, tucking boxes of gauze under your arms. "Let's go find Robin's cart and get out of here. I hate this place. Nice boots, though." Steve grins at you.

"Now, listen, I know this really isn't the time but that was kind of hot. The wrist thing and how scared you made Carver--"

"Steve!" You laugh for real this time. "Really? C'mon."

"Really, baby. You're a not so secret badass and I love it." You scoff at him and thunk your head on his shoulder, desperate to be close despite his full arms for just a moment.

"We really need to find the cart, I'm serious, I want to hug you so bad," Steve says. "I'm not above dropping all of this shit."

"Just gimme a sec." You breathe him in. He smells like you do, like dirty water and blood and the lingering cigarette smoke of Eddie's vest. But he's Steve. And as long as he's here, as long as you're together, you'll figure it out.

"Stevie, you smell. I love you."

He laughs and kisses your dirty hair. "I love you, too. Let's go."

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both! reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

[yeetus-feetus]

de-aging au

Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused. He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is

The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"

One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.

Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too. And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!

So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!

Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!

Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.

"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.

"I'm Robin."

"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.

Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.

Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.

Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.

"dick pick us up!"

"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"

"again!"

"again!"

It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.

Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.

But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.

"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.

Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."

Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.

It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".

"what are you reading?" Duke asks.

"Macbeth."

Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"

"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.

"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"

Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."

The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.

Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.

Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.

Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.

"gotta tell B"

"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.

"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.

"no way! Really? I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.

Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and cool! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.

"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.

Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!

"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."

quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.

idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine

[witch-hazels-musings]

Until you are safe

Warning: Vision Hunt Decree still in effect, kidnapped themes, reader grabbed by hair (Thoma), possessive themes (scara)

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

Includes: Albedo, Scara, Thoma, Zhongli

Albedo

The frosty chill of the mountain side was more than you could bear. Every time you thought you gained warmth it was ripped from your body by icy hands threatening to drive you insane. You shivered and wrapped your coat further around your body while you scowled against the frigid cold. 

Ahead of you stood Albedo who seemed indifferent to the temperature and while you were impressed that he knew how to handle this without any complaints, you were also irritated by the fact. He was barely wearing anything and here you were shivering under countless layers of cloth. 

He turned to tell you something but with the turbulent winds and nibbling frost against your ears, you didn’t understand a single word he said. Quickly, you forced your legs to move as you made your way to his side.

“W-w-what di-did you s-say?” Your chattering teeth made it hard, and painful, to speak but you did your best anyway. 

“We are nearly there, can you keep going?” He narrowed his eyes at you but you knew that was a common thing he did. It was unlikely to have any additional meaning behind it. 

“H-how f-f-f-ar?” 

“Just around the bend.” He rested the back of his hand against your cheek and somehow that made you shiver even more than the touch of frost. When you nodded and began to walk forward, he took up position behind you and directed you toward the camp. 

With the cave blocking out the wind, and several warming mechanisms already glowing, you stumbled your way in between them an the fire. Trembling hands extended toward the orange and yellow light while you watched the snow drip from your clothes. 

“I always h-hat-te this p-p-part.” You complained, shaking your head and shoulders to warm up the muscles. This wasn’t the first time you traveled to Dragonspine with Albedo, but each time you braved the conditions you recalled the promise you made yourself last time. Never again, well ... I guess that promise was made to be broken. 

“Here, this will help warm you.” He handed you a cup and immediately you caught the scent of fresh and soothing tea. The aroma itself perked you up and even though your fingers were still stiff, you graciously took the offering. Warmth seeped into your throat as the liquid carved a path down your esophagus and into the pit of your baron stomach. With a refreshing hum you smiled through the steam.  

“P-p-perfect. Thank-k y-you.” Another sip warmed your lips and tickled your nose but you didn’t dare stop. 

“This trip should be less strenuous than last time.” Albedo began, his back turned to you as he rummaged through the stacks of books. “Where did I place that ... perhaps it got caught in the wind, that would be unfortunate.” 

You giggled, eyes watching him meander and speak to himself all at the same time. He had a habit of doing it but it never bothered you, in fact it was comforting to hear his voice, stabilizing, grounding. 

“You ca-can head out. I’ll b-be fine here after I w-warm up-p.” The shivering had eased, but you still succumbed to the residual affects as your body began to shift from frozen to thawed. 

“No need, I can wait here for a while.” 

“Haha, that’s silly, g-go on ahead.” You took another sip of the cup and found yourself sad at the emptiness of it. That’s when a hand entered your field of vision and you watched Albedo walk toward a table, refill your drink, and return to your side. He offered it to you and when your fingers found the circumference his nestled against them.

“Until I know you are safe, I will be here.” His eyes held your own for a while as if waiting for your reaction, your response, and when you nodded he mimicked your action before slipping back toward the bookshelves and research table. 

You were glad he left you, because if he hadn’t you were sure the only way to cool down was to step beyond the barrier of the cave and into the never-ending snowstorm that protected Dragonspine. 

Scara

Being at the side of a Harbinger had it’s own trials. If it wasn’t the constant movement between assignments or the threats against your life, it was the loneliness which creeped in every single day. There were some Harbingers who left the life of love far outside of their reach: Signora, who vowed to never love again and instead put all her attention into fulfilling her duty, Childe, found love a difficult thing to ignore and did his best to keep what he cherished hidden behind closed doors. 

Scara, he never understood the meaning of the word until it crashed around him like a house crumbles into itself, and the way he kept his belongings safe was to have them near him at all times. It was far better to be under the watchful eyes of his competence than leave something so valuable in the hands of another. So, here you were, following him around and staying hidden until he called for you. 

-- 

The room was empty, absent of all the things you would have normally kept to make this place more homey. If you could get away with it, you’d have made some changes to the décor, but the problem with never settling in one place for long made this desire of yours difficult to accomplish. It wasn’t feasible, you thought to yourself  but that didn’t stop you from adding a bit of comfort when you could. 

The night came and went without issue and after you prepared yourself for bed you wondered where your lover was. Was he succeeding, was he accomplishing his goals, would he return to you tonight or would you wake up alone yet again. Luckily for you, you had learn to be patient. 

Your dreams kept you occupied but there seemed to be something about them that pulled you toward consciousness, a subtle wish drifting across your imagines to wake up. 

Something brushed across your cheek, but was it the dream or reality, you couldn’t tell. Gravity pulled you close to something sturdy, but was it a creation of your imagination or the real thing - why was this so challenging. When your eyes finally opened and adjusted to the light of the room, you realized what had been calling to you. 

“Scara?” You pulled your hand down from behind the pillow, the muscles tense from being locked into that position for so long. “What has-” 

“Go back to sleep.” He spoke and the sound of his voice pulled you closer to him. 

“Is everything okay?” You continued your question as if what he said was never uttered, your eyes trying to find the outline of his frame while your skin adjusted to his touch. 

“Nothing to concern yourself with, just sleep.” 

“But, why are you here?

“I don’t recall needing your permission to do anything.” His words may have been direct, but you could sense there was something else behind them. 

“... would you ... like to come to bed?” 

“I can’t.” He adjusted and you felt the warmth of the blankets cover more of your exposed skin. The chill of the evening became blocked by the sheets and you hummed in response. You were confused, but the feeling of his hand running along your neck, your jaw, and into your hair made all the questions you had disappear. Moments like these brought out something completely different in the Harbinger and you wondered why he treated you so differently. 

With a yawn, you turned into his touch, lips finding the palm of his hand easily and placing a tender kiss against his skin. “You don’t need to stay if you have work to do. I’ll be fine.” You hummed again as he thumb ran over your lips and the gentle pull of sleep began to find you. It was quiet for a while and you focused on the warmth, the closeness, the comfort he provided until you practically melted into the bed. 

“I can’t do that either.” Scara whispered, hand pressing into the mattress as he leaned closer to your face. “Not until you are safe,” He breathed in your scent, gazing down at your trusting form beneath him. “Even from me.” He spoke as his fingers curled into the sheets and before he lost himself in you, he slipped from your bedroom and made his way down the hall. 

Thoma

He ran so fast as soon as the news reached him. The weight of his feet as he dashed through the countryside grew with every passing second but there was nothing more painful than his clenching heart and anxious thoughts. 

What have they done, am I to late, please don’t be too late. He wracked his brain over and over again, blamed himself for the stupidity of leaving you. If he had been there would the outcome be different? If he had stayed, would he have been able to fend off their attack enough to get you to safety. How foolish of him for thinking they wouldn’t use dirty tricks like this to accomplish their goals. 

Rumors and intel began to swirl like wildfire and at this point he couldn’t differentiate the accuracy of it all. There was one thing he knew for certain, the vision hunters had you and he was going to get you back. 

-- 

Their campsite was simple and you wondered if they would really be able to escort all of these prisoners back to the city on their own. They were intimidating enough to keep most insurrection at bay, but you were not about to let them get away with this. After a quick analysis of your surroundings, you found a few potential options worth trying, now it was only a matter of timing. 

“You won’t get away with this!” Someone shouted next to you and you patiently waited for an opportunity. 

“Shut up.” A soldier barked, his dismissive attitude apparent from the lack of eye contact and the wave of his hand. 

“This is wrong and you know it! Do you think you’re immune to the decree, when the day come to hand over your vision will you?!” 

The soldier turned and made his way through the trembling captured, you used the scuffling of those trying to get out of his way as an excuse to move closer to your escape. The dirt scraped against your bound hands and pulled at your clothes, but you didn’t care because each inch you gained the closer you got to freedom. 

You watched the soldier lift the woman from the ground, his impressive height apparent as she dangled above the well worn soil. “I will do what is necessary for the Raiden Shogun. I am bound by honor, unlike the resistance.” 

“Honor! You know nothing of it. Put me down you brute.” She spat in his face and he reacted in kind. You hated the fact that you were using her as your distraction, but hopefully if this all worked out in the end freedom would be enough compensation for her bruised face. Your fingers brushed against a metal handle, the sword you were aiming for had been reached and you quickly worked to get yourself free from the bindings.

The loosening rope told you of your success but when your hand wrapped around the hilt of the weapon and you moved to stand, a sudden pain against your head made your vision go blurry. 

“What do you think you are doing?!” Shouted a voice near your ear. They were so loud that you shrunk away from it only to be yanked right back. “You think you could take on all of us? Are you stupid.” 

“I didn’t think so.” You wheezed, blinking harshly to try and bring your vision back to clarity. 

“Well let me help you understand.” He drug you away from the group but before you could take but a few steps, an intense groan blasted it’s way near you and the hand that held your hair fell away in an instant. 

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice asked, hands finding your waist to steady you. It was like your eyes snapped back on because as soon as you turned your head, you found Thoma standing their with an expression you’d never seen before: fury. 

“I’m - ouch - okay.” You whispered and then you realized the implications of him being there. Turning, you pressed your hands against his chest and pushed against him, your voice turned tense as you shouted. “Ge-get out of here! What if they catch you!?” 

“I’m not leaving.” 

“Thoma!” 

He looked down at you, his arm tightening around you and you swore the world shifted red and the screaming soldiers shouts became muffled. “Until I know you are safe, I’m not leaving.” He looked forward and the glint of his polearm caught your attention. “Now hold on, okay.” 

The dry landscape turned into a wildfire until only what Thoma wanted to remain, remained. 

Zhongli

“This is very kind of you, Zhongli. To walk me home.” You chuckled, gazing up at him as you made your way down the path and toward the city. It wasn’t uncommon for Zhongli to escort you from place to place, but tonight you would have assumed he would stay on the Pearl and continue his lively conversation. 

“It is no trouble at all, to allow you to walk by yourself would not sit well with me.” Zhongli commented matter-of-factly, his eyes closing as he nodded his head and gazed up toward the stars. 

“You were having such a nice time, know that I didn’t mean to bring that too a close.” You scratched your forehead and adjusted your clothes after climbing the stairs from the docks. It was a rather pleasant night, but it usually was in Liyue this time of year. 

“I would never insinuate you had ill intentions. I made this decision on my own, to escort you is no trouble at all.” 

“Yes, well, that’s very kind of you Zhongli.” The lights of the festival swayed in the wind. To you they looked like fireflies in the sky, but that was such a silly thought you kept it to yourself. “I think I can manage on my own, if you want to go back?” 

“Nonsense, I will stay until I know you are safe.” He glanced down at you and offered you a smile, one that spoke true and gave you the impression of ‘I will not be swayed.’ 

“Well, thank you.” You turned away from him in hopes that he wouldn’t notice the embarrassment you were sure shined in your eyes and flashed across your expression. How can someone so regal find your company enjoyable at all - but Zhongli was so kind to anyone you fought against your better judgement to believe this gesture was more than common courtesy of a gentleman.

“It is my pleasure. Did you have an enjoyable time?” He asked, head examining the city streets and decorations as you had earlier. 

“Oh yes! Thank you for inviting me, I’ve never attended something so high class.” You fussed at your outfit again, it was apparent you weren’t used to wearing something like this but you did your best to fit in and not insult the guest who invited you to join him. 

“I am delighted to hear. It is far better to enjoy ones time when in company you relish, don’t you agree?” 

“Absolutely!” For a while, the two of you discussed the highlights and lowlights of the gathering. The sound of your laughter and excitement caught the attention of late night patrons, but you didn’t mind because it also caught the attention of the one you wanted the most. 

It wasn’t until you neared your home that the conversation began to drift. Your heart was sad that the night was coming to a close but responsibilities held you to a tight schedule, even if you felt the itch to break them. 

“Thank you again, Zhongli. This night will be one I remember for a while.” Your nails had received a break all evening, but, now that you were about to be alone, they felt the dig of your nervous habits once again. 

“It was my pleasure, it is always a gift to spend the evening with you.” He bowed, his long hair slipping over his shoulder at the motion. 

“I tend to agree with you.” Chuckling, you moved to unlock your door and when you looked back to Zhongli, his face was illuminated by the sparkling lanterns and yellow glow of the city. No matter what he did he radiated colors you’d never fully understand. 

“Liyue has many festivals,” He began, his tone wistful, “though I must say the ones where lanterns adorn the city are my favorite. Do you not think they look like fireflies in the distance?” He asked, gazing up at a few that dangled across the bridges and walkways that lined the city. 

“Yeah, actually I do.” You whispered as your eyes fell onto the man you loved so much it hurt to look at him, but, if it meant you could capture even a hint of his existence in your memory, you would happily suffer this pain. 

[honeyabyss]

Phone calls after Mc returned to the human realm

Lucifer:

this man is stubborn, calling you would be like admitting he's gone soft and his pride does not allow that!

so he refuses to call for the first few weeks, keeping himself busy with work of which he has enough anyway

due to all his student council work, a few other tasks of Diavolo and on top of that the usual shenanigans of his brothers, he quickly becomes very stressed

he's at his breaking point and needs someone to talk to so he can release some of his stress before he takes it out on someone else

so he goes to your old room and starts talking as soon as he enters it, only to stop confused when he doesn't see you in the room, remembering only now you left for the human realm

disappointed he sits down onto the bed and curls the blanket around himself

"Their scent is almost gone...Soon it'll be as if they were never here"

he closes his eyes, sighs softly and makes his decision

"Mc? I hope I didn't wake you. I simply thought a conversation would be nice, it's been a while..."

Lucifer's call is pretty casual, he talks about his day, work and his troublemaker brothers, it almost feels like any other day before just this time it is over phone

he does not want to admit he misses you, a) because he'd seem weak and b) he fears what admitting it will do to him, he might just miss you even more

BUT while saying goodbye he accidentally lets a "I miss you" slip, his breathing stops shortly realizing his mistake, he is about to apologize when you say it back

he smiles softly, genuinely relieved about your shared sentiment and whispers "I'll call you again soon then" before hanging up

from then on he calls you every evening and you better jump right away and pick up at the first ringing, because this man is lonely without you

Mammon:

"Congratulations! You're one of our lucky winners of our monthly Devil-Lottery. We'll have to confirm your bank account number with the one given to us when you agreed to participating in the lottery. Would you be so kind to slowly repeat the number-"

this greedy demon will quite literally try to scam you, only to absolutely panic when you hang up on him

he will instantly call you back, constantly adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit he acquired over the years

"H-hey...Mc...uhm, it's me your favourite demon!"

he is relieved you picked up, as it means you didn't block him right away, he stumbles over his words trying to find an excuse why he just tried to scam you

"Ah you know I only did that to test you, you've passed nobody scams my human! You're my amazing human after all! That's why I love you...u-uh I-i mean...nothing...that was a static you must have misheard..."

when you tell him you knew it was him as you recognized his voice, he'll be outraged, screaming into his D.D.D (and probably later getting punched by Lucifer for being so loud)

"What do you mean you already knew?! You dared to hang up on The Great Mammon?

He gets a bit sulky by your reaction, so how about playing into his obvious lie of testing you to make him feel better again

besides trying to scam you Mammon also called to (not so sneakily) check on your wellbeing

now that you're gone he constantly worries about you and he can't do much to help, but if you were actually in need of help due to whatever, trust me he'd fight Lucifer himself for permission to go to you

he'll call you as often as he can, sometimes with a few days of a break in between, asking you about your life and also letting you in on his upcoming money making schemes...please don't tell Lucifer about them

Mammon has learned his lesson though, he'll never try to scam you again, he couldn't bare it if you were to block or ignore his calls

Leviathan:

phone calls? Why? You two can just talk about the in-game talk function of this new online game you play, but no real world talk while playing that ruins the immersion!

Levi will rarely call you as he just doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk with you about normie stuff for too long

he normally just spam writes you, ding, ding, ding, one message after another coming in without you being able to respond quick enough

so if gets too much and you decide to just call him so you can have an actual chance of responding, Levi just panics and almost drops his D.D.D

"Mc? D-did you accidentally hit the c-call button? N-no? I-i see no I love you too!!....AAAAAAAh I-i meant I l-l-love t-talking to you too...hehehe w-why would a yucky o-otaku like me say something like that"

poor boy is so nervous he'll say something stupid and will stutter a lot the first few times you call him, he is just not used to talking on the phone

he will laugh nervously over everything and sometimes there'll be a phase of awkward silence, but please don't point it out, Levi is already stressed enough as it is

once he gets used to calls, he'll surprisingly suggests to have a phone call while both of you are watching the new episode of an anime, so he'll be able to talk to you as if you're right next to him, which works out mediocre at first, you have to tell him to be a bit quieter a few times but besides that it's quiet nice

"Ooooooowhooooooah!!! Did you see that? That was amazing, I wish I had these superpowers, I'd save you of every danger like a real hero! W-what do you mean I'm already your hero?"

Yes, you saw and heard it, and your neighbours probably heard Levi...

on the rare occasions Levi calls you he'll often asks you for favours like to buy him this exclusively in the human realm sold limited edition game, of course he isn't like his scummy brother Mammon who'll constantly asks for things and he'll also make it up by sending you stuff you can only get on Akuzon

so calls don't happen very often, but neither if you really mind, you'll still be in contact through messages and games

Satan:

Satan will be very proper about calling you, he'll check through messages if you're fine with him calling you, so he can be sure you have time and he doesn't bother you

Satan never jumps into a conversation right away (unless he is angry), he makes sure to show interest in you and hold a bit small talk, asking about your day, how you're doing and so on

you talk about many different things with him mostly about your shared interests, but Satan is willing to listen to you ramble about hobbies he doesn't have as well

one thing you two quickly come to do was have book club sessions over phone

"I wish you were still here Mc. I miss my book discussion partner, nobody here has as interesting opinions and views as you..."

back in Devildom you two would both read a book and afterwards discuss your thoughts, and you found a way too keep doing just that

you both write about books, decide on one to read for the week and would than have a phone call where you just talk for hours about the piece of literature you've read

now that you're back in the human realm, the book choices are even bigger as you can read human books as well, you just have to send a copy to Satan, sometimes Barbatos will be nice and pick a book up and deliver it to Satan, or to you if it's the other way around with a demon book

"Oh? No, you're right. I haven't thought about it like that yet...your thoughts are so fascinating!"

Satan will shower you in praise for every little detail that you noticed yet he missed. he genuinely enjoys your phone calls, and though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes he anticipates your call more than the actual book

even though there now is a bigger distance between you two he still feels as close to you as before, not much has changed for him and he knows he'll be able to see you again soon, he'll just have to be patient

"Next week, same time? I'm looking forward to talking to you again. Take care until then!"

Asmodeus:

"Oh my Lord! You won't believe what just happened!!!"

no greeting or alike, just straight into the discussion

whenever something gossip worthy happens, Asmo is already dialling your number to spill the tea and keep you updated on any Devildom related gossip, even if it won't help you much, it's a nice thought of him keep you in the loop

those are only the spontaneous call though, obviously you can't take these all the time...you still have a life of your own...

you two actually call each other every day at the same time, plus/minus a couple minutes, the water in the tub has to be filled first...yeah Asmo likes to talk you while he is taking his afternoon bath

"Hahh it's so relaxing, warm water caressing my beautiful skin, and the bath bomb today smells so good! I wish you could smell it, or even better I wish we could bathe together!"

*water sloshing noises intensified*

Asmo...no....yes...maybe...just stop, you'll fluster Mc!

"No really! I miss having you here, I'll pamper you all day the next time I'll get to see you. You must already be starved of my beauty, but don't worry my dear, I'm just as starved of seeing your lovely face!"

what to talk about while he is bathing? Anything really if it's about your day, any complains or whatever, just expect a few innuendos of him...that's nothing new though

seriously though Asmo is the guy to talk to about any of your problems, he will listen and try to come up with a solution for you, even if he seems a bit narcissistic sometimes he really cares about you, so use your phone calls as therapy from time to time

"Oh darling, don't worry it'll be okay! I'm here to help...now tell me every detail so I can come up with a plan! I'll always be there for you, no matter what!"

Beelzebub:

"*munch munch* This one is really good! Mc you should try some...oh"

now that you're back in the human realm, Beels snack times are very lonely, he has just gotten so used to your presence, even sharing his food is normal by now

and let's be honest Beels snack time is 24/7 so he misses you a lot

he feels the urge to call you every five minutes and sometimes even forgets to eat while phone is ringing and he is waiting for you to pick up

but you can't constantly talk with him over phone so the calls often end up on your voicemail where Beel tells you about all the different kind of foods he ate that day

when Belphie catches wind of his twin constantly pestering you, he hides Beels D.D.D so he can't call you all the time

when you're actually able to pick up on his call, Beel will be so happy you can quite literally hear his huge grin while he's excitedly talking about his current snack

"Have you ever tried spicy bat-wings? There opened a new restaurant in town and it's really good!! Next time you're here I'll invite you there. Oh but what if it closes before you're back...ah you'll just have to visit soon!"

though Beel is often disappointed when you don't pick up, he would never hold it against you, he knows he calls quite a lot, but he just misses you and tipping a message while he eats is harder than putting his D.D.D on speaker and talking to you

of course he doesn't only talk about food, he also tells you about how his brothers are doing and how his workout was, or what things he has planned to do at the weekend, all in all Beel is just super happy to share everything of his life with you

on rare occasions he'll call you and be untypically quiet, that happens when he had a fight with his twin, it's not often but sometimes it happens and his first instinct is to call you, because he feels like he can tell you everything so he is very comfortable and trusting with you

"I miss you a lot, you know...but I also know that you think about me daily, every time your stomach rumbles you'll be reminded of me and that makes me happy, I also think about you every time I'm hungry! Hm? But I'm always hungry? That's right! You're always on my mind!"

Belphegor:

Listen, his sleeping schedule is very tight, you can't just expect him to call you!

he will call you so rarely and if you call him it might just happen that he is sleeping and has phone on silent...or he's just to lazy to walk to his phone, or he is just not in the mood to talk... he takes any excuse to not be on the phone

Belphie does like talking to you, but he is not the greatest at long conversations so he like messages more

sometimes when he can't seem to fall asleep, he will be the one to call you...in the middle of the night...and you better pick up or he gets annoyed

"What took you so long? I thought you wanted to talk more often and then you leave me hanging for a whole minute? Doesn't matter I would have waited longer with you...."

he is mostly silent through a phone call, his main reason to call you is because he like to listen to you talk, it's calming to him and if he calmer then he might be able to fall asleep again

so don't expect an amazingly deep conversation...

"Mhmmm...hm? Yeah I'm still there. I'm listening keep talking, I love your voice..."

he'll bring up a topic from time to time so you have an inspiration about what to talk about, but most of the times he just lazily hum or making acknowledging noises so you know he is still listening

"Zzz..."

he will to 100% fall asleep while being on the phone with you, that doesn't mean you're boring, but that he trusts you so much that he is comfortable enough to let his guard down

Diavolo:

"Good afternoon! How was the week of my favourite human?...ah don't tell Solomon I said that hahaha"

as the future king of hell, he is a busy man, but he still manages to give you a call once a week, to the same time you two would have normally had your weekly afternoon tea meeting in the castle

with the exchange year over there is not much about your classes to talk about left, but Dia is just as excited about any other topic you decide to talk about, be it the most mundane thing he loves it!

"Oh so you went grocery shopping? That must be fun! Barbatos does it all the time, though I suppose you buy less things...I'd like to see a human market at some point, I wonder if they're very different from ours...oh but I wouldn't really able to tell I suppose, Barbatos and you would need to point out the differences!"

this man can talk without taking a break for hours...you think Asmo is bad? Prepare for Diavolo...

but seriously it never gets boring with him, because he somehow finds good and fun stuff in every activity, I swear give him a vacuum and watch him clean you're whole flat with the enthusiasm of a child getting presents on Christmas

the work of a future king consists of so much paperwork, Dia will have only few events of his week to tell you about, if there is something to talk about there is a high chance it has to do with the brothers

so he'd much rather just sip his tea and listen to you, he'll ask you loads of questions though about anything he doesn't know

sometimes you two forget the time and Barb sadly has to remind you to come to a stop for now

"Mc? Did I wake you? If so I'm terribly sorry...would you be up to talk for a little bit more? I'm not feeling too tired yet"

surprise night time calls from Dia where you'll have to speak silently or Barbatos might reprimand Diavolo for staying up all night and being tired the next day, Dia doesn't regret it ever though, he likes to talk you a lot!

Barbatos:

Barbatos is always busy and his schedule can often suddenly change with a new whim of his master, so he can't exactly have a scheduled call with you

so you might not get to hear of him very often

BUT he made it a habit to call you when he is on duty to do the dishes, the chore is somewhat boring to him with no one to distract him

so he calls you and if you pick up, he'll put you on speaker and talk to you about whatever comes to mind while his hands wash one after another of the expensive porcelain of the royal household

"I've bought this new tea which is said to be really nice, it can even be enjoyed cold apparently. It seems to have to just the right amount of sweetness to not get bitter when drank cold...you can still add sugar for extra sweetness, though I believe you're already sweet enough as it is"

no matter what you decide to talk about Barbatos always has at least some knowledge about it, so it's beneficial for both of you, he can tell you the things he knows and you tell him your stuff

"I hope I'm not bothering you too much? There is quite a lot to do today... so it might take some more time..."

you will never get to know that Barb has actually already finished the dished a few minutes ago, but just isn't ready to say goodbye yet

the rest of the employees will be able handle the castle for a bit longer without him, meanwhile he can take a well deserved tea break and listen to you

he very much enjoys the fact he found a way to have some time with you while theoretically having to be at work, as long as he is able to finish all the tasks of his daily schedule, he doesn't feel too bad about his not so legal break

"I fear I'll have to get back to work now, but I loved talking to you today! I hope you enjoyed it as well. I'll talk to you again soon!"

Solomon:

Though Solomon returned to the human realm with you, you haven't heard much of him, being a wise old man sorcerer must be very time consuming

so calls of Solomon might be rare but that doesn't mean you don't write messages every now and then, when he calls you though it's always about something interesting or important to share, he talks about those things rather verbally, the best option for him would be in person, but that doesn't always work so a phone call is the second best option

"My lovely apprentice, how is your studying going? I've found the tome we were talking about last time you were interested in...it took some research to find which sorcerer had it but I brought it back for you. How about I'll drop by you next week? I can help you with your studying then, the tome is written in an older version of the language it might be easier if we do it together!"

Solomon can simply not sit still, so while you're on the phone, he is always tinkering at something and the background noises are sometimes quite peculiar...

Was that a pig squeaking? Are you sure you should be brewing a potion while being on the phone? Isn't it distracting?

Oh Lord was that an explosion?!

"Hmm? Oh yeah...I`m cooking dinner right now! It was just a small explosion though, you know the ones that are regularly happen in the kitchen. Why? Was my cute student worried about me?~ heheh alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you...for now!"

no matter how chaotic, teasing or busy Solomon is though, if you call him and are in need of help, he'll drop everything and run to you

he knows how hard it can be when studying magic, not to mention that the studies are difficult, the constant hiding of any magic in front of other humans is also very nerve wrecking, sometimes you feel like giving up and going back to your normal life, back to your non-magical very human friends that are blissfully unaware of everything happening around them, but you know you could never forget and act as if nothing happened, you'd also miss your new not so normal friends, so when times get hard Solomon will rush to you and comfort you in person or at least calm you down on phone until he is able to go to you

if that happens he is more likely to call you every two to three days just to check in on you

"Hey how is my strong and beautiful fellow human doing? Feeling better yet? Need a shoulder to lean on? I'm at your flat in 10 minutes..."

Simeon:

Simeon is a daily caller as well, he's gotten so used to seeing you every day that he feels quite restless if he doesn't get to hear your voice at least once a day

he asked you to recommend at what time he should call, he doesn't want to restrict you in your daily life, so you both came to the conclusion after dinner would be perfect, as both of you are free for the rest of the day then

He will often write a bit on his TSL scripts, just some notes and inspirations he comes up while talking to you

"How was your day my little lamb? You haven't overworked yourself right? Tell me if you ever need help!"

though Simeon would definitely have things to complain about with how Michael is working him to the bone, he'd rather not worry you so instead he tells you about how Luke is doing and evasively answers you questions about himself

"Oh me? Ah yes, I'm doing fine, just doing the usual archangel stuff you know...Ah please do not worry Mc, my dear! Nothing dangerous!"

over the time his TSL notes turn into random scribbles, rhymes and poems and every now and then something that looks suspiciously like your name

Sometimes Luke crashes the call and wants to speak with you as well so Simeon tries to put the phone on speaker only to end up ending the call and Luke getting frustrated with Simeon and doing it himself

then again Simeon also just accidentally hangs up on you mid conversation, because his fingers hit the button without him noticing, he'll get so confused when you cut off in the middle of your sentence and thinks something has happened to you, only to be relieved when you call back a few seconds later

Simeon is very interested in your day and how you doing, asking you many questions and encouraging you to keep talking

"Oh no please keep talking! You're not overwhelming me at all, in fact I like listening to your voice, it puts even the most melodic voice of an angel into the shadows...hahaha did I make you embarrassed? I apologize, I didn't mean to, I was only telling you my honest opinion!"

Simeon is quite the flatterer, but he often does not notice it, he simply tries to be nice, so a call with him leaves you flustered and stuttering ever now and then, but he is just as quick to blush at a honest and heartfelt compliment

Luke:

Luke might be an angel, but he is still low ranking and therefore has less assignments, besides studying to become a great angel and doing some minor tasks for Michael, he is relatively free

he often spends his free time in the kitchen constantly trying to improve his baking, now after the exchange year not only to impress Michael and Simeon but also Barbatos, maybe a bit Beel and definitely you!

but as Simeon is still working at these times, he gets somewhat lonely so he'll try calling you to keep him some company

Luke has this habit of speaking the recipes out loud to remember the steps better and be able to able to make them from memory, he got that tip from Barbatos, but he still has his moments where he gets stuck and forgets what to do next, you can notice that when he gets silent and concentrates on trying to remember

"Ah right that was it! I almost forgot about the eggs! Good thing you were here...or well on the phone hehe! You always remember this stuff, you're so amazing!"

when you tell him you simply looked it up in the internet for him, he'll get a bit sulky that he now basically cheated, but with your reassurance that he is already great and can remember so many other steps, he is quickly back to his happy little angel self

"Michael let me help with his conference today I was assistant record keeper today, one day I'll be able to do it alone, bit they're talking so much and so fast...I think I still need a couple centuries until I'm fully ready, but I'm working on improving! You should also try to improve your skills daily! Even a small bit of practice is good! Though I think you're perfect already!"

Luke most definitely learned his flattering from Simeon... he talks about many different things on the phone but repeating topic is Michael...just talking to you makes his day and later he'll tell everything Simeon and he smiles so brightly while he reports to him, please keep talking to him a lot!

[chanluster]

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

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

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

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

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

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

It was partly you as well.

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

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

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

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

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

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

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

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

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

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

Your mouth dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had all the time in the world for this.

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

You wanted this as much as he did. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like your best friend promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

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

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

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

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

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

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He read your every plea. 

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

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

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

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

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

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

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

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

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

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

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

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

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

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

“Oh my God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHRIS THE PISS: 

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

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

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

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

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

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

Again, the situation here was different.

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

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

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

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

“Now I know you’re lying!”

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

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

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

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

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

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

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

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

“Shut up, Chan.”

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

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

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

“A Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did change your life.

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

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

Hopefully tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung!”

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

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

“Boo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joy was not returned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

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

“Fuck.”

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

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

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

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

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

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

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

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

Then were you feeling miserable?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

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

“Oh my God!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

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

Were you really just friends? 

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

But...to be more?

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

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

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

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

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

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

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

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

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you!”

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

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

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

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

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

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

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

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

God, you were such a bitch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me, baby.”

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

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

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

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Chan. Please.”

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

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

“Donghyuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

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

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

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

“Cum for me, ____.”

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

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

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

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

“Chan?”

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

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

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

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

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

He parted his mouth. 

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

You blinked. 

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

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[idy-ll-ique]

Touch.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: age gap, mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of violence, death

Requested: nope

Summary: "touch her and I'll kill you" but Bucky is a man of his words.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay, so regarding the ending; there's two ways to look at it. 1) soft-dark!mob!bucky or 2) arranged marriage au with a twist. you can decide that for yourself. enjoy!

---

"Appreciate it, Marvin, but really, I'll be okay," Y/N assured her coworker, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. The single dad of 2 still looked unsure. "Y/N, it's very late, please…" She continued shaking her head. "Please. My house isn't that far," she tried and he gave up. "If you say so. Let me at least walk you to the gates." She allowed him to do that.

They chatted as they walked. "How are Eva and Evan?" she grinned at him. Marvin smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eva said her first word yesterday," Marvin admitted and Y/N squealed. "Ooh, what was it?!" she asked excitedly. "It was their nanny's name, actually." She smirked at the way he turned pink.

Y/N had met his kids' nanny once; she was a beautiful woman and Y/N knew Marvin had a crush on her. Her name was… Nicole, if she wasn't mistaken. "Really? That's another reason why you should ask that woman out." Marvin jokingly shoved Y/N and she laughed harder as they stood near the gates. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" Y/N waved and started walking down the dimly lit street, humming under her breath. Thinking back to her chat with Marvin, a smile bloomed on her face and she chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Oh, Marvin, you idiot," she snorted under her breath, freezing when she heard footsteps behind her. "Hi there." Slowly turning around, she saw a man.

Instinctively she took a step back; he was a bad man, he gave those vibes. "No," she said flatly and turned to leave, pausing out of fear when he harshly grabbed her arm. He spun her around and his eyes widened when they landed on her face. "Y/L/N's daughter, aren't ya, ya pretty thing," he hissed in her face and she winced.

"Let me go."

"Now that's one thing I can't do, my dear," he sighed dramatically and Y/N forced a glare on her face despite being shaken to the core. Truth was, her father ran a mob. They dealt with arms and weaponry and since Y/N had a soft soul, she had rejected her father's decision of her taking over the mob after him. He respected that, was relieved, even; he didn't want to put his daughter in danger.

Her father had a friend, young (and very good-looking, she had to admit). His name was Bucky Barnes, and he ran his own mob. His mob was bigger and more famous than her father's, he practically owned a sixth of the city. She had heard talks of her father handing his mob over to Bucky after his retirement a few years down the lane.

"Let me go," she repeated, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible as she blinked back tears. "Come on angel, I'll make it worth your time. It's been a long time since I've been with a pretty girl like you," he crooned and Y/N scrunched her nose, the action earning her a sharp slap on the cheek from the man. She cried out in pain.

Then she managed to wrench her arm away from his grip, moving to run away but this time he grabbed her waist, forcing her to elbow him in the gut. He pulled away again and she turned, placing a firm slap on his cheek as she seethed, daring him to put his hands on her again. He did, circling an arm around her shoulder as he pulled her in. She leaned forward and bit his arm. He hissed.

"You bitch!"

"Let go!" she screamed this time and he slapped her again, clamping a hand over her mouth. "I'm going to fuck the brat out of you," he whispered dangerously and Y/N's eyes watered as she tried to get away from him. A third slap, this time his ring cut her cheek. A drop of blood trickled down her soft skin and the man hummed appreciatively.

"Wh-What's your name?"

He stopped and considered her for a minute. "Rumlow," he answered simply and she started wiggling in his grip again. "Stop that!" he screamed and threw a punch at her face, hitting her square in the jaw. A fight broke out; Y/N hit him back by slapping him on the cheek again and Rumlow proceeded to choke her. Her vision going hazy she gasped and kicked him.

Straight in the crotch.

Rumlow's hands left her body as he bent forward, cupping his crotch in pain. Finding new strength, she pushed him and with nothing to ground him he fell, giving Y/N enough time to escape as she ran away, glad that she had decided to wear sneakers that day. There was only one thing on her mind; her home, which she shared with her parents.

I just want to sleep.

Coughing at times, she reached home 15 minutes later and opened the door, thinking that her parents would be asleep by then. Her watch said it was 12:30 am. Unfortunately, as she threw open the front door, she froze again for in the doorway stood her parents and in front of them, Bucky. He was holding his jacket, signalling that was about to leave.

He turned to look at her and his eyes immediately took in all the bruises that had formed on her face, as well as her clothes which were askew and the handprint of someone gripping her arm. "Y/N!" her mother exclaimed worriedly, almost fainting at the sight of her daughter looking so beaten up. Y/N's eyes snapped towards Bucky when he spoke.

"Come with me."

Without questioning his authority Y/N followed Bucky up the stairs and into the study. The moment the doors closed behind them he took her face in his hands, examining the bruises. The noise of her parents making their way upstairs stilled him for a moment but they simply walked past the study towards what he concluded was the master bedroom.

Bucky had also liked Y/N for a long time. Her parents had introduced her to him when she was 20; he was much older than her but towards the end of the day, when his friend had asked, "What do you think about my daughter?" he couldn't bring himself to lie. And surprisingly, her father was ecstatic at the idea of Bucky dating his daughter.

Well, at least he had her parents' approval.

The moment the door to the master bedroom closed, Bucky's hands resumed their motions. Y/N stood as still as possible despite being in a lot of pain, not wanting to ruin the sudden, personal moment that they were having. He had always been civil with her; never talking to her as more than a friend, never touching her for long but oh, today was much different.

Bucky carefully lifted her jaw, noticing the way she unintentionally flinched when his fingers came in contact with her chin. A broken jaw. She was also bleeding from the cheek and a trail of blood went down the corner of her lips. Barely being able to contain his anger he swiped the blood away, causing Y/N to shudder.

Tears pooled in her eyes as her skin started itching and aching. His hand left her face and gently curled around her arm, lifting it so he could get a better look at the handprint. Not one word was spoken during the entire exchange as Bucky took note of all her injuries. She suddenly lifted her hand to wipe her tears and tilted her head further up, exposing her neck.

Bucky took in a sharp intake of breath. Her neck was covered in deep purple, red and blue bruises. Someone tried to choke her. He wasn't able to contain his anger anymore but he tried his best as he finally looked Y/N in her eyes. She stared back at him, whimpering. "Who did this?" The words came out a hiss. "B-Buck…" she choked out.

"Y/N?" he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips. The intensity of the situation hit her then; Bucky liked her. Momentary happiness washed over her but there were more important things to care about. "Bucky," she breathed and leaned forward, pressing herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

One of his hands cradled her head, discreetly checking for injuries there as his other arm went around her waist. "I need a name, sweetheart," he hummed quietly, too quietly. "R-R—" she stammered but stopped as her wounds unknowingly caught on fire at the letter. "Rumlow?" Bucky blurted out.

He didn't think that was the name she'd take but Y/N pulled away from him with a look of disbelief on her face, causing his worst fears to come true. Rumlow got to you. Fuck, that bastard was dying today. "It was him?!" Bucky gasped and Y/N nodded. "How did you know?" she croaked out, wincing when pain shot through her throat.

"We— We've got a pretty famous rivalry going on, sweetheart, surprised you didn't know that."

"Sorry, don't keep up with mob news."

He chuckled for a moment before sobering up; straightening his shoulders as a dark look crossed his face. "I have to go now, you take care of yourself, okay?" He moved to leave when Y/N pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him. She leaned on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, the action causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

He gently turned her head and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I'll visit tomorrow," he whispered and she nodded, a smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that very much." With a smile of his own he kissed her forehead and they both left the study, making their way downstairs. Bucky left the house and Y/N turned to see her mother standing at the top of the stairs.

"Your daddy has called the doctor, dear, he'll be here in 15 minutes."

"Okay, ma."

---

"Rumlow, you motherfucker!" Bucky roared as he stormed into the bar where he was sure his rival was. Behind him walked in his right-hand men Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers, followed by 15 of his men. Rumlow looked up from his corner, his eyes going wide at the furious look on Bucky's face. While he had seen the look a thousand times, something was different tonight.

Bucky spotted him and strode forward, easily pushing aside the men who came to their boss' defence. Rumlow gasped when Bucky grabbed him by the throat and smashed his skull against the table, eliciting a hiss and a low groan from the man. "You fucking dare—" Bucky began as he lifted him up, only to punch him square in the jaw like he had Y/N.

"You fucking dare put your hands on her!" Bucky shouted but Rumlow's head was spinning after he'd hit the table. For the first time, he realized, he was afraid. Of Barnes. In the background, Bucky's men, outnumbering Rumlow's men, fought. "You hurt her and now you're going to pay!" Lifting an empty bottle of vodka off the table with his free hand, Bucky smashed it on Rumlow's head.

Pieces of it got stuck in his scalp as Rumlow fell unconscious. All Bucky saw was red. He couldn't physically bear the thought of someone hurting his girl and being true to his words… "I promised her father," Bucky breathed out as he threw more punches at Rumlow's dying body, "No one was going to hurt her."

Another punch to the face. "I told him, anybody who touches her dies," Bucky hissed, "And yet you dare— I'm a man true to my words," Bucky promised in a sinister tone, knowing that he was talking to himself since Rumlow was long gone. His hand closed around Rumlow's neck. "You touch her—" He squeezed, "You die."

And Rumlow's dead body slumped on the floor.

The fight around him stopped instantly.

"We're done here."

---

"Princess?" Groaning softly, Y/N turned away from the voice and pulled the covers tighter around herself. "Away," she mumbled and heard a soft feminine laugh as well as two manly chuckles behind her. "You've been asleep a long time, baby," a familiar voice whispered, placing a hand on her arm. Her eyes flew open and she looked up, straight at Bucky.

"Oh my God!" Jumping up, she threw her arms around the man and buried her face in the crook of his neck, causing him to laugh. Smiling at each other, her parents left the room, leaving the two lovebirds alone. They were sure Bucky could handle breaking the news to her by himself. "Good morning," he greeted as he sat down, pulling her on his lap.

"Do you really like me?" she whispered, realizing that they had not made it explicitly clear last night. "Of course I do, princess. You're mine," he spoke in a possessive tone. "I'm yours," she agreed as she burrowed closer to him. "And no one touches what's mine and gets out alive." Y/N took a few moments to register those words.

When she did, she pulled away from him, still straddling his lap as she stared at him, jaw dropped. "You…" He nodded and Y/N's eyes went wide. Though he was delivering the news of someone's death, Y/N couldn't bring herself to feel bad. He had attacked her, he got what he deserved. "I— I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to tell you what I did. We can talk about something else," he offered and a smile immediately bloomed on her face. "How long have you liked me?" He laughed before cupping her face, pulling her down to press his lips to hers. "Ever since I met you 5 years ago, doll, I was smitten." Y/N gasped against his lips.

"Ever since you met me?! Me too!"

"Really?" He grinned broadly at the look of excitement on her face. My sweet angel. "Really! I— I think I might… I think I might love you but it's too early on—" she stammered but Bucky took her hands, tears starting to glisten in his eyes at her words. She loves me. "Princess, I love you too," he admitted and she paused.

"Bucky, I love you!" she smiled hugely and hugged him tightly. Bucky quietly wiped his tears off, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. He could see the bruises fading away and that calmed his heart. She's safe with me. And I'm never letting her go. "So, there's some news…" he continued and she pulled away, a curious look on her face.

"What is that?"

"Your father is retiring. I'm gonna take over the mob now." Y/N squealed and clapped her hands; she knew her father made a great decision. Bucky was more than competent. "Congratulations!" she shouted and jumped out of his arms, running out of the room to wish her father the same. Bucky chuckled as he stayed there for a moment more, running his hand through his hair.

"Can't wait to make you my wife, baby."

---

A/N: Three Bucky fics in a row 👀 leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it (and thanks for 430 followers lol I love every single one of you)

[togetherweflyhigh]

It’s Okay (drabble)

Genre: Nonidol, a/b/o, a bit of angst from reader, fluff, established relationship

Pairings: Alpha!Seokjin x Omega!gender-neutral reader

Warnings: None

W/C: 1,285

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something small and sweet for a while now. Literally the summary popped in and said hello and demanded to be wrote. 

Summary: Seokjin comes home to you making a nest which is… unusual.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much encouraged! Thank you!!

"What are you doing?" The question comes as Seokjin takes in the atmosphere of the current state of the bedroom. 

Walking through the front door things were off. The usual sweet scent of lavender and rosemary were replaced with the scent of rotten oranges. Before reaching the bedroom, all the couch pillows were gone along with the few throw blankets that were laying around. Guest bedrooms were completely scavenged of blankets and pillows. 

You have never done this. Even though you’re an omega, you never have nested before or for as long as you two have been together and that’s been a while. 

You were stacking the last of the pillows onto the bed when caught. “I…” You had no idea what you were doing either but you did know nothing was organized in the way that you wanted it and that felt frustrating just looking at it. “I don’t know.” The sudden feeling of embarrassment overcomes you as you sit in the pile. Your parents were both alphas so when you came along it was shocking when you presented as an omega.

When an alpha and another alpha have a baby, it’s rare. It’s even rarer that the baby ends up being an omega. Nonetheless, they loved you but the mindset of growing up in the shadows of alphas never left you. In a way, you felt a bit broken. You weren’t like them but you also didn’t act like an omega. 

It was common for the omega to just stay home but you didn’t want that. No, you got a few jobs in the past and were currently somehow still working at a restaurant. It was hard to get work as an omega since no one wanted to grow out of old ways. 

Seokjin comes over to sit next to you on the messy bed. “What’s wrong, my love?” A gentle hand is placed on your knee. Your scent wasn’t getting any better so something was clearly up. “Did something happen at work?” Of course, it was something at work. It was the only time the two of you were away from each other except for when Seokjin had business trips to attend. 

You knew Seokjin didn’t mind you ranting out your feelings but sometimes, like now, you just wanted to curl up in bed. “Yeah..” You speak softly, hanging your head low. You were still reeling with embarrassment from being caught attempting to build a nest. There were a few times in the past where you had wanted to build one but it just never felt right. “I kind of messed up a lot today.” The tickling heat of tears can be felt building up around your eyes and nose as you recall the events. 

It started off like any other day. The normal morning rush and, of course, the usual lunch rush but today was the busiest workday you've ever experienced. Orders were getting mixed up causing everything to become slower as you tried fixing it, a tray of drinks slipping out of your hands destroying all the glassware, even the computer system went down for a few hours making a payment with a card impossible. By far the angriest customers in one day you have ever dealt with. Sure, making a few mistakes here and there was okay but for an entire day was just too much.

“It’s okay, let's not worry about it right now.” If you weren’t speaking now then it was clear to Seokjin that you weren’t up for a recap. Instead, he stands looking at the pile of blankets and pillows. “Do you want me to help you with this?” You looked surprised at him before turning your head to the bed.  “I don’t know. I think I should put everything back.” 

“You seemed like you were on a mission before I interrupted. Why not give it a try since everything is here?” Seokjin was being so gentle and encouraging. You ponder a moment before agreeing. There was still awkwardness lingering in you. Nesting was so commonly known to be done by omegas and yet here you are attempting your first. Even when you went through heats, you never made one but the temptation was always there. 

“Want me to leave?” You didn’t want to say yes to him as he literally just got home but you also didn’t want to say no. Seokjin reaches down, petting your head. “How about I make a snack run for us?” He was trying to give you some privacy seeing how uncomfortable you were with this new action. “Can we order takeout?” 

The two of you settled on tteok-bokki and kimchi fried rice, something familiar before Seokjin is headed to the store. 

You returned to the room now alone with the mess. Seokjin would be back within forty minutes or less. It felt odd. You didn’t know what to do but at the same time, you knew exactly what to do. With some minutes going by trying to decide rather put everything back or to make an attempt. You heard Seokjin’s ‘why not’ ring through your head and decided to take on the action once again.

The pillows were laid out like a barrier on the edges of the bed with a few of the lighter blankets covering them. The bigger blankets and some smaller pillows from the couch were inside. It made the bed look like an actual nest.

Crawling over into the nest for the first time ever was the most affirming thing you’d experience as an omega. What about it was suddenly making you feel so much better and just euphoric? It was so new to you still you couldn’t put a finger on it. Curling up in the blankets, you basked in the new warm and fuzzy feeling. This was definitely something you have been missing out on.

Time seemed to fly by because Seokjin was suddenly home again and the discomfiture was threatening to start welling up again. 

You only raised up enough to peek over the edge of the fluffy walls around you when you heard the rustling of plastic and feet walking into the room. It felt like there was a hand reaching into Seokjin’s chest and just squeezing his heart as tight as possible seeing his omega in their first nest. It was by far the most endearing thing he’d ever seen you do. 

“It looks nice, may I come in?” 

Seokjin didn’t know much about the nesting process, especially how it was with you. Even be possessive over their space. Earlier, he could sense there was uneasiness about it, thus the reason he thought to go out for a bit. He was glad he did because getting to witness you like this was going to be memorable for a long time. 

“Of course!” Your voice sounded tiny and as if you were starting to destress. It brought a sense of happiness and relief that you were. 

After very carefully climbing into the nest, making sure not to knock anything out of place, he planted a kiss on your forehead before going through the two bags of snacks with you. The only time you left the nest was to eat the takeout food in the kitchen as you feared it would get on something if eaten in the newly built nest. Though, you still ate snacks in it. That night when the two of you laid down finally, you told Seokjin about what happened at work. 

“It’s okay. Mistakes happen sometimes when we least expect them. I’m sure everything will be okay.” With reassuring words, your head calms for the moment as Seokjin holds you a little tighter for the night.

[zimmerman1]

@lazypastry I have slept and am now back on my onion horse you canNOT ESCAPE THIS!!!!!

For reference, look at this wonderful person's vampire 1010 au, you'll see what I'm referencing and also BOOST THEIR ART MORE IT'S GORGEOUS!!!!!

And @lesbiancyborg I MADE ANOTHER ONION-

Aside from that:

Cw/tw- there is blood involved, bite wound and also the drinking of blood

It's funny how no one ever tells you how dating a vampire has its own unique (and often amusing) grievances.

For instance, when they turn into a bat they do what most bats would do and shed their fur (due to temperature change or just because they wanted to be pet is another question entirely). Now, this normally would be fine, just a couple shirts might need to be sacrificed. But when you have a very VERY affectionate boyfriend with chocolate brown and startlingly white fur; no shirt Zuke owns is safe from such an attack.

Then there's the nocturnal nature vampire have. Zuke has lost count of how many hours of precious sleep (though even before those were few and far between) he has lost because Rin texted him in the middle of the night, wide awake and full of energy. Not that he can complain, having Rin turn up at midnight just to cuddle and talk to him till day break is something he would never change.

Another minor problem is how stealthy vampires are by nature. Time and time again he's almost had a heart attack because of his tall vampire boyfriend randomly making himself known throughout the night; though the biggest scare was one time when Rin was in bat mode, he had hidden himself under some blankets strewn over the couch and Zuke almost sat on him! Rin would have been flattened for crying out loud! And now Zuke has a chronic fear of sitting down on something covered without triple checking for a bat boyfriend, just in case.

But then there are some...more pressing issues. Rin had explained it all before, how vampires work that is, he wanted Zuke to know what he was getting into with dating a vampire. It was a nervous conversation (on Rins part) filled with questions and clarifications (by Zuke) but Rin had stated many times he wouldn't drink Zukes blood, even if the human thought that was a silly promise to make. But he let it go without even arguing, Rin was the vampire and Zuke just wanted his boyfriend to be comfortable.

So that lead to this moment, the night hadn't even started off weird either, everything was normal; atleast, as normal as dating a vampire gets. Rin had called at about 11 at night saying he found some old movies his dad owned and that the two of them could have a movie marathon till Rin needed to leave, Zuke agreed and about an hour later there was soft tapping at the sewer grate, signalling Rin was there. They put on the movies and situated themselves in their usual spots on the couch; Zuke laying across the whole thing with Rin resting above him, listening to the sound of his steady heart beat.

It was nice...it was familiar, a feeling that filled Zuke with so much warmth that he didn't even mind the slight chill to Rins body. It was all going well...until Rin suddenly curled up with a groan of pain. Worried, Zuke sat up and tried to gently take Rins hands, asking him what was wrong, but Rin recoiled like he'd been burned. Clutching at his stomach the vampire was rambling about how he was an idiot as he went to stand, saying how he should have fed before coming over and that he'd just have to bite himself and leave early.

That last part had Zuke give a gentle shove to his rising boyfriend to make him sit down again, sighing Zuke placed his hands on Rins shoulders and looked him in the eyes. There was a beat of silence before Zuke spoke, breaking the spell they were under.

"You and I both know that biting yourself is a temporary fix, we also both know that with how long it takes to get back to the Manor you're probably not gonna make it. So just...hear what I have to say...okay?"

It took a moment, probably Rin weighing up his options again before he nodded and mumbled softly, "I'm listening..."

Smiling softly Zuke carefully took his hands off Rins shoulders and moved so he was kneeling on the couch, facing Rin (who also moved to look at Zuke more easily). Taking a deep breath he thought for a moment before moving an arm up, holding it out for Rin he kept smiling as he softly spoke, "You can drink my blood."

Immediately Rin looked nervous but before he could say anything Zuke spoke again "Rin, you don't have any other options, I'm well aware of any risks and...well...I trust you." That seemed to stop Rin in his tracks, Zuke was willingly offering, he didn't have time to get home and Zuke trusted him to stop before too much was taken.

Yeah...this could work.

Taking a deep breath Rin gently held Zukes arm, leaning down and bringing it closer to him. His lips were about level with his wrist before he paused, glancing at Zuke and croaking out "Are...you sure...?" To which the human smiled and nodded, he was sure, all that was left was for Rin to take the plunge.

It took another moment for Rin to steady himself, this was kind of a big deal after all. Though it didn't take too long before he closed his eyes and sunk his fangs into Zukes wrist to drink. There was a flash of burning pain that caused Zukes breath to hitch and one of his eyes to close, though he tried to still watch Rin; maybe it was morbid curiosity or maybe it was the fact that it was in fact his blood dripping from his boyfriend maw, but he didn't wanna look away.

It felt like forever, listening to the sounds of his blood being gulped down and watching some of it ooze past Rins lips and drip onto his chin and the couch. The pain of fangs stabbed so deep into his wrist was probably the only thing that worried him a bit, he knew that he was still gonna feel that weeks down the line, but he could deal with it. He didn't know when his heart became so loud in his ears, probably an instinct about seeing his blood outside of him, but there was no fear. He wasn't panicked, he didn't wanna run or get Rin off of him, he was calm...it was...kinda nice he supposed, save for the pain that was probably making his face scrunch up a bit.

When Rin finally parted from Zuke he was panting a bit, his eyes until this point had remained closed but now they were lazily looking at the wound on his wrist. Blood had stained his usually pearly white teeth a reddish pink, and some blood had gotten onto his upper lip. His tongue sweeped over his top lip and fangs as he spoke in a deep, warm and slightly breathless tone, "Thank you, dear..."

Oh.

Oh that wasn't fair.

His whole body tensed at those words, his eyes were wide and his lips pressed into a thin line as he felt his whole face flush with warmth. He couldn't even say anything before Rin was on his feet saying something about a first aid kit. Or atleast it sounded like that, he wasn't sure over the sound of his heart trying to beat out of his chest.

Once Rin had left the room Zuke couldn't hold it in, a dumb grin spread across his face as he practically collapsed on the sofa, giggling to himself as he stared at the ceiling. He really had won the jackpot witb Rin, hadn't he.

When Rin came back in the room, Zuke looked normal save for a slight flush in his cheeks, the vampire had no idea what had happened not 30 seconds ago. Sitting with Zuke he gently took the injured arm and started to tend to the wound, dramatically exclaiming he was so sorry and that he didn't mean to forget to drink and so many other things while Zuke said it was fine. The only way the ramblings came to an end was after the wound had bee tended to, Zuke used that hand to gently cup Rins cheek, stalling his though process. He softly wiped away the tears threatening to spill down Rins cheek with his thumb and smiled softly, speaking gently, "I love you..."

That was the first time Zuke had said that. Rin always said things like "I love you, baby!" or "Loooooove yoooouuuu!" but Zuke never really said it back, not that Rin minded but now...those 3 words had him practically among the stars.

Launching himself at Zuke he attacked the human with a barrage of kisses and declarations of love as Zuke laughed and hugged his tall boyfriend close. Grinning like an idiot once again.

He wouldn't mind if Rin drank his blood again, so long as he gets his kisses after.