#really should put his other ear on before i lose it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 2 months

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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2

“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”

She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether.

The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious.

She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection.

“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it.

“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention.

“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction.

In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home.

Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.

And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive.

It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything.

He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.

“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”

Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious.

“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel.

The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”

“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”

She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”

“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”

No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that.

He swallows. “Maybe a few.”

No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends.

He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up.

Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked.

He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.

It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent.

They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug.

“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny.

They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”

A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”

She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”

Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”

Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”

“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.

Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away.

“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him.

“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically.

“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”

“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”

“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room.

Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him.

It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare.

There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes.

He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched.

Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?”

“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”

Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”

He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting.

Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side.

He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.

Dirty dog.

It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life.

His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything.

He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench.

When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes.

Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank.

He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word.

Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one.

Still he—

He lets it happen.

Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat.

“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.”

He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll.

Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building.

They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face.

The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in.

Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand.

Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet.

The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader

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rachalixie · 1 month

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can’t get you off my mind

all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 4k

it starts at a bar.

or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.

but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face.

“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways.

“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”

you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then.

“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”

“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later.

he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.

–

he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face.

a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you.

the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span.

your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it.

another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar.

“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”

“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?

“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”

the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention.

by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.

changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in.

“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat.

“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”

“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”

“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”

“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return.

“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”

“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”

“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”

the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work.

—

he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door.

god, is everything about this man endearing?

he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through.

he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console.

“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile.

“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time.

four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair.

“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”

“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him.

“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”

he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here?

it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing.

“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”

he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little.

“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide.

“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”

“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that.

“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground.

“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed.

“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”

you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night.

–

your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years.

you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it.

you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it.

you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him.

“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”

it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold

onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again.

“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand.

“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home.

“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce.

chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other.

“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”

“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck.

—

your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have.

chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”

“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?”

“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch.

“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?”

“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over.

“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”

you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind.

he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times.

as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one.

the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer.

you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday.

you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

—

your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible.

he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him.

he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at.

you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature.

he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you.

“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”

“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior.

“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”

he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues.

“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”

“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”

he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.

“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting.

“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader

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boyfhee · 2 months

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박성훈 、SECRET NEVER KEPT

sunghoon likes getting detentions.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader, highschool au

contents ⋆ kissing, suggestive i mean you can say this went out of hand a little...sunghoon is crazy guys don't try this at school ( 0.78k )

notes ⋆ another rich boy hoon bc it's always on my mind. they should cast him in a drama and make him third gen chaebol heir idk. btw this one is for @atrirose

sunghoon’s lips curl into a subtle smile when he heard footsteps coming towards the classroom. he knows it’s you, he knows your pace, way too familiar with you to not even recognise the faint humming echoing in the hallways.

he chuckles, his smile growing wider as he pushes one of the desks aside. he shakes his head at how easily you make him smile, and you aren’t even in the room. the melody you’re humming gets a bit clearer, and he turns towards the door as you slide it open.

“detention again?” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. it’s unfathomable how giddy he looks after getting detention. “it’s pleasing to watch the mayor’s son sweeping the tiles,”

“just a little charity work for school,” he hums jokingly with a shrug, and then he looks up at you, his eyes are soft and just a tad bit crinkled at the edges and his smile is sweet as if an invitation to come and kiss him.

not a whiff of what happens at school reaches his parents because he knows his dad will have anyone who dares point fingers at him lose their job. while his mother is more inclined towards him trying to lay low and mixing into the general public, sunghoon can’t help but stand out.

he likes attention.

he likes it when people talk about him when he walks down the hallways, or when you wink at him from across the room. he liked it when you visited him when he had gotten detention for the very first time, and it’s a routine now. you stay after school for extra lessons and he hates not being able to sneak in a few kisses with you in the storage after school ends. fortunately, detention gives him the perfect excuse to stay.

“charity is nice but this—” you say, pointing at the mop and bucket, walking towards him as he carefully holds your hand so that you don’t slip over the wet tiles. “— doesn’t suit your pretty face.”

and sunghoon laughs, sitting on one of the chairs around, pulling you on his lap. your arms wrap around his shoulders out of habit, and he can’t help but swoon at the way your gaze rests on his lips for a fraction of a second before going back to his eyes. “well you win some and you lose some,”

and he doesn’t really care, honestly. with hands that are made to caress your cheeks and hold you close, he doesn’t really mind if they’re occupied with mopping the floors. just the same way he doesn’t care if his father hears about you and him. with elections ‘round the corner, he will be furious to see his dear son dating the daughter of the opposition.

but when has sunghoon ever cared about what others have to say about you?

“you know, anyone could walk in right now,” you warn quietly, although your actions are contradicting your words as you tilt your head a little, giving him an easier access as he presses his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of slow kisses down and then to your jaw.

he pulls away slightly, taking in the fragrance of your perfume— it’s the one he had gifted you on your birthday, and he likes how irresistible it makes you, as if you aren’t already. “the whole building’s empty,”

“the guards take rounds after school,”

“well, no one will come. and if they do,” he gently tucks your hair behind your ear, fingers drawing random patterns on your thighs, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as he slides his hand a bit further up. “we can put on a little show for them,”

“hoon—” he doesn’t let you say much, simply cutting you off with a kiss. most of the time, it doesn’t fall upon him to be the responsible one in the relationship, but you’re not any better with the way you pull him closer, fingers lost in his locks. you huff and his arms move up to your waist, and you pull him closer, kissing him deeper— a clear confirmation that you’re into this just as much as him.

and it does end up this way, most of the time. you on his lap, his arms around your waist and yours around his neck, lips together, in the empty classrooms or storage, under the staircase— sunghoon doesn’t care if someone sees. it’s least of his concerns when you’re with him. sunghoon falls first, he falls hard. everyone knows it, it has never been a secret.

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lyneira · 1 year

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♡ when you try to flirt with them ♡

-> how the genshin men would react when you attempt to flirt with them

suggestive!

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

MEGA SIMP

Thoma, Kaveh, Gorou, Itto, Venti

You'll have them sweating bullets, at the edge of their seat, heart racing, and blushing furiously as they endure your flirting and teasing. Despite that, they are absolutely LIVING for your flirting. They're not gonna admit it aloud (not yet at least) but they want ALL of the affection, love, and teasing you're giving them.

In this state, you can ask him for anything and he'd obey. Heck, ask for the world and he'll give it to you because this guy is ENRAPTURED by you. Bro is just so excited and eager about the way you're treating him

Like lowkey, if you were to tell him the numerous things you'd do to tease him, get close to him, and ask, "Would you like all that, hm?~", he's going to take a sharp inhale and breathe out a soft, "yes please" before he combusts right then and there

Embarrassed

Xiao, Scaramouche, Diluc

Will probably hit you with a tsundere-ish, "What are you talking about baka...?!" in response to any smooth line you tell them, or a "Quit with that foolishness" when you try to flirtatiously put your hand on theirs.

Yes, he's going to tell you to stop, but it won't be very convincing with the shakiness in his voice and the vibrant blush that he's desperately trying to hide on his face. He's just feeling a mix of emotions right now, y’know? You're getting them all hot and bothered but they wouldn't dare admit that they're succumbing to your tactics.

They're playing hard to get because truly, you've easily got a hold of their heart and in actuality, it was him who wanted to be the one to catch yours first.

Cuts to the chase

Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Cyno

Like the previous dudes, they're also gonna ask you what you were doing, but would be serious about it instead. These guys don't like beating around the bush and your flirting is going nowhere, so he's going to interrupt you and make you cut to the chase. He'll do so by kabedon-ing you, slamming one hand against the wall which makes you yelp in surprise.

"If you want something, why not ask me directly?", he leans down, towering over your frame and lifts your chin gently with a finger, "I won't bite...unless you want me to"

Amused

Ayato, Baizhu, Kaeya, Childe, Heizou

As you flirt with them, they'll simply have a smile on their face, both pleased and amused that you have the guts to do so. Trying to seduce the flirt, eh? They find it all terribly cute. Yet, they won't say or initiate much up until they've seen you slowly lose your drive to continue flirting (due to their lack of response to your attempts)

"Is that all you've got, y/n? Don't get me wrong, all of this pleases me, but...", he places his hands on your hips and brings them closer to his own as he leans in close to your ear and huskily whispers, "...let me show you how it's really done" ;)

Would be a sweetheart

Zhongli, Kazuha, Tighnari, Albedo

Will look at you with such tenderness in his gaze, happy about your sentiments toward him. They'd also blush lightly at certain antics that you'd pull, but they overall have a better tolerance to your flirting in comparison to the mega simps and those who get embarrassed. They're too wrapped up in the thought that you admired him and held these feelings for them to get so flustered.

When you compliment him seductively, he'll chuckle softly and smile, "I'm fortunate that you think of me that way", he'll then caress your cheek with the knuckle of his index finger slowly and lightly before bringing it up to your lips and replacing it with the pad of his thumb, "I feel the same for you", he'd finish saying while rubbing small circles on your lower lip. Y'all should kiss already

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captain-joongz · 2 months

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Tits out

Pairing: best friend!Wooyoung x f!reader

Genre: bffs to ??, college au, pure smut, barely any plot, fluff, humour

Summary: When talking to your best friend about your nipple piercing during movie night backfires in the most spectacular way possible and Seonghwa's new couch gets caught in the crossfire

Word count: cca 7k

Warnings: reader is chubby, there's no discussion, they just jump into it, titty sucking, nipple and nipple piercing fixation, unprotected sex (this is pure fantasy, be careful in the real world), a little bit of body insecurity about body hair, fingering, doggy, squirting (let me know if i missed anything)

I had met Wooyoung back in the first year in uni and now four years later we were still going strong. The man that walked in confidently into a lecture hall, bee-lined straight for the empty space next to me and was sitting down before I even comprehended his question of “is this seat taken?”, who then proceeded to talk my ear off and invite himself for lunch with me, was quite easy to befriend, believe it or not. After sitting next to him a few times and going for lunch later, I’d managed to get out of my shell a little too and soon we were two merry extroverts steamrolling through university hip to hip. He’d become one of my best friends, one of my closest friends and a person that understood me almost perfectly. We knew we could count on each other completely and trusted each other blindly.

I was introduced into his friend group, and he was into mine and we often hung out together in huge groups of rowdy younglings, going dancing and spending weekends eating too much junk food and watching bad movies someone had put on, but no one really paid attention to besides the occasional joke about its stupidity. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve done something extremely stupid while hanging out with them and was heavily encouraged by both Wooyoung and San. It was the most fun I’ve had though, and that’s what really mattered.

Now I was already out of school, but Wooyoung and most of his friends were continuing with their studies. Due to this, we tried to hang out every Friday, but a lot of the time it ended up being just me and him or even just me sitting in their living room watching Netflix waiting who makes it home first. It was like my second home at this point, and no one was phased when I showed up out of the blue and sat on the couch like I owned it. Especially since Seonghwa bought the new one, that one was extremely comfortable.

Usually, Friday night was a hang out and movie night for me and Wooyoung anyway, but today I was a woman on a mission. A few months ago, I had gotten a nipple piercing. It wasn’t my first one (though it was definitely the most painful one) so I wasn’t extremely worried about it, but lately it has been acting up a little. It usually didn’t hurt but sometimes there would be this slight discomfort around it and I’ve even noticed some slight scabbing even months later. I knew realistically that it was most likely okay, but my anxious nervous little brain had managed to convince me that I’m going to lose my tit or something. That’s why I needed a second opinion. And that’s where Wooyoung came in.

Tonight, I was making my way towards their flat knowing I’m about to ask Wooyoung for the weirdest favour one ever could, but it should be okay, right? We were such close friends, it definitely wasn’t a big deal, right? You normally asked your friends to take a look at your tits and tell you whether there’s something weird about one of them, that was just a usual Friday, no?

I checked the group chat again and confirmed that it would be just me and Woo tonight and then made my way to their building’s door. They lived on the fourth floor without an elevator, which would normally be a minus, but since it was an old warehouse made into an apartment building, their flat was actually massive and housed all of them without a problem, so I graciously sacrificed myself and stomped up the stairs a few times a week to see their faces (and eat their food).

Upon arriving to the flat, I found Woo busy making something in the kitchen, humming lightly while whipping cream like a 50s housewife.

“What you up to?” I asked casually strolling into the room, making Wooyoung jump with shock. “Jesus fucking Christ, you sneak in all the time and yet I still get scared by you,” he said and put his hand over his heart. I slapped his shoulder and peeked at what he was making.

“You literally gave me the keys, Wooyoung, I’m hardly sneaking in,” I said and rolled my eyes at him. He just laughed and pushed me out of the kitchen. “Shut up and start choosing the movie or I know we’ll just end up scrolling through Netflix for hours like always,” he shouted over his shoulder and went back to whatever snack he was making.

As I sat on the couch, I was steeling myself for what I was about to ask him, trying to figure out how to bring it up. No time like the present, right. I mindlessly scrolled through the movies, but really I was waiting for Woo to join me in the living room. Then finally he came in through the door, a plate of little cheesy snacks in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in the other. I was just about to open my mouth, but he cheekily winked at me and made his way back to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding a little tray with two cups of hot chocolate, the coke and two glasses.

He finally joined me on the couch and for a while we both just sat there, arguing about whether we want to watch a comedy or a thriller, while I was thinking how to broach the subject. But in the end, I didn’t even need to do that. In the middle of my sentence about how I’m not watching another stupid horror movie about nothing, Wooyoung suddenly turned to me and just gave me this look. And I knew I was done playing around. I stopped in the middle of talking and stared at him. He grinned.

“Okay, just spill it,” he said when I stayed silent for too long.

“What do you mean?” I attempted to stray away from the topic until I was ready, but he’d already saw through me. “Really?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve known you for years, you think I don’t recognise when you want to talk about something? Just spill the beans already.” I heaved a deep sigh and then turned on the couch to face him. He was still grinning.

“Okay, this might be really weird, but just bear with me for a while, okay?” I started. While I was slightly worried about the piercing, I also couldn’t help but fear Woo’s reaction, after all this wasn’t exactly a normal thing to ask your friend. I knew worst case scenario he’ll just say no and laugh it off, but still. He looked a little more serious for a moment, but then I continued talking. “I need you to look at my tits, okay?”

Wooyoung looked at me shocked for a moment and then bursted out laughing. I just glared at him annoyed. “Hear me out-“ I started but he cut me off. “Is this about like being insecure about them? You want me to look at them and say they’re okay? Y/N, you know your tits are amazing-“ he was going on and on, but this time it was me who cut him off.

“God, no, nothing like that,” I shut him up embarrassed. While it was true that I was slightly insecure about my plump figure, I loved my boobs, I knew they looked great. They were simply just right, it was one of the things I loved about my body. Wooyoung sensed that it must be something more serious and gestured for me to continue.

“You know I got the piercing, but lately it started to act up a little and I’m getting nervous and I just need you to look and tell me it looks fine,” I got out in one breath and he just stared at me. “Okay…? Why don’t you look into the mirror?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I have, but since I’m getting so nervous about it, I need a second opinion,” I explained, “Come on Woo, I know it’s a super weird and gross request, but help me out here.” Wooyoung laughed again and smirked at me.

“Gross and weird?” he repeated, “Not only I’ll see a nipple and a piercing, but I’ll also see a boob and a nipple with a piercing, that’s like some of the best things in this world combined together.” I slapped his shoulder again, but we both laughed this time.

“You’re the worst, god,” I said laughing, “I’m surprised you haven’t died over being such a fucking horndog all the time yet.” He laughed too and then gestured to my top.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just shut up and pull your tits out,” he joked and made himself comfortable on one end of the couch. I wasn’t particularly shy about showing my body, so it wasn’t that hard to bare myself like this. Hell, me and Woo have probably seen each other naked a few times but just didn’t care enough.

I pulled the two straps of my top off my shoulders and bunched the fabric around my waist, then reached around to my back to take off my bra. When it hit the floor Wooyoung’s full attention was suddenly on my chest, and it flustered me a little. I fought the instinct to cover myself with my arms and instead just sat there, topless with my best friend intensely staring at my boobs.

“So?” I asked anxiously, “What do you think?” He suddenly straightened up and it brought us quite close to each other. “That you have really great tits,” he said absent-mindedly, his hands raising on instinct as if going to squish them. I flushed and swatted at them. “Yeah, I know,” I said annoyed, “that’s not what I asked though.” That seemed to break him out of it a little bit and he hunched down so his face was on level with my chest. I face-palmed and hoped no one would come home unannounced, cause this would be damn hard to explain.

“No, yeah I think it’s okay,” Woo said after a while, “I mean, the pierced one looks a little different, but that’s to be expected. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.” I relaxed at hearing him say so and felt the tension leave me at once. But I just needed a little more to feel completely at ease.

“Can you like… touch it to see if it’s weirdly warm or if there’s some weird texture or something?” I asked embarrassed and quickly looked to the side when Woo’s head whipped up to look at me. “You want me to what now?” he questioned me flabbergasted.

“I don’t know, dude! You’re the one that gets into contact with tits, you’ll know if there’s something wrong with it!” I started hurriedly explaining myself, growing more flustered by the minute. Wooyoung stayed quiet for a moment and then sighed. I thought this was finally the line that was too far for him, but then his hand suddenly flew up and stopped just millimetres from my nipple. We both just sat there, holding our breath, not knowing where to look, when he slowly brought his fingers in contact with my skin. I gasped quietly, but in the silence it was still audible. I flushed in embarrassment and refused to look anywhere else except for the wall by the TV.

Wooyoung’s fingers messed around a little, pressing down on the nipple and gently squeezing it, also lightly touching onto the piercing. Surprisingly enough, what I felt wasn’t pain like I feared. With every soft brush of his fingers over the sensitive skin, a little bolt of pleasure shot through me and I had to fight to keep myself from gasping more or arching into his touch. I felt the blush spreading over my face and completely mortified I noticed beginnings of a scorching wet heat between my legs.

Then suddenly his hand was gone and he was clearing his throat. The silence that set between us was broken and we both started shifting around, not knowing what to do with the situation we found ourselves in.

“I think it’s totally fine,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, but I was so embarrassed I barely even registered it.

“Oh thank god, I was really getting nervous,” I said and laughed a little awkwardly. Wooyoung wasn’t saying anything and just sat in front of me tensely, so I assumed it was good and he just needed a moment to shake off the sudden awkward atmosphere, and turned around to find my bra. That was a rookie mistake though. The moment my eyes left Wooyoung, he striked. As I was searching the floor with my eyes, suddenly what felt like a lightning strike went through my whole body. My back arched on instinct, and I toppled backwards onto the couch with a loud moan.

Wooyoung’s mouth has attached itself onto my pierced nipple and he sucked again, another shock pulsing through me and pleasure suddenly flooding my senses. My hands flew to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away I just pulled him closer. I myself wasn’t sure of what was happening or what we were doing, but it felt too good to dwell on it and I definitely didn’t hate it.

Wooyoung moved closer and made himself comfortable between my spread thighs, his mouth busy sucking and licking around my piercing. I was letting out tiny breathy moans, my legs instinctively pulling him closer to my core, hoping for a little friction.

“What… what are you doing?” I finally gathered my wits and asked breathlessly. I looked down to see the top of his head moving around. He peaked up to look at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’ve never been with a girl that has a nipple piercing, I couldn’t help myself,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“You damn horndog,” I muttered, but didn’t push him away or stop him. That gave him confidence to continue, and he smirked at me, as one of his hands brushed down my front until he was slightly pushing on my clit through my clothes and I arched again. He moved to the other nipple and played with it a little, while his unoccupied hand moved to my other breast, touching it teasingly, squeezing it slightly and thumbing the piercing.

“It’s so sensitive,” he murmured and watched his hand completely fascinated. I was about to retort something, but he chose that moment to bite at my breast and move up to leave wet hot kisses on my neck and a loud moan came out instead. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and I was starting to worry I might utterly embarrass myself. One of my hands sneaked down between our bodies, trying to encourage him to touch me properly instead of just gently pressing, but he caught it and pulled it up to my shoulder. Suddenly he was towering over me, smirking at me and just generally being a menace. I arched again, this time trying to push our lower halves together, but he avoided me with a laugh.

“God, please, Wooyoung just touch me,” I begged him as the desperation from the scorching heat cursing through my veins was taking over, throwing everything into the wind and fully committing to getting fucked by my best friend. He kept smirking and propped himself up over me on his elbow.

“Touch you, huh?” he said and suddenly his hand was back to teasing my clit, this time with more force. I keened and pushed up into him, suddenly embarrassedly realising just how wet I’d gotten from such small ministrations. He chuckled watching me, head diving to take my pierced nipple into his mouth again, gently playing with it with his tongue and scraping his teeth over it. I jerked and my hands flew into his hair, holding him in place so that he’d never stop, my mouth falling open on a silent moan, too overwhelmed by the sensation to properly function. He slowly moved up to my neck, peppering kisses and small bites along the way, while his fingers moved in little circles over my clothed clit.

I was so turned on I could die, I needed him to touch me properly – like stuff me full of his long beautiful fingers. And I told him as such. And he laughed at me.

“Aw, such a little desperate angel, aren’t you?” Wooyoung whispered into my skin. I whined his name, hoping it would speed him up. He scoffed at me playfully but moved away to pull my shorts off, grabbing them with one hand and pulling them down in one swoop; leaving me a little breathless and only in a bunched up top around my middle, while Wooyoung was still fully clothed. I started pulling his shirt off and he obliged, flinging it to the other side of the room eagerly.

Woo sat back on his heels between my spread thighs to take me in and I started to feel shy again, hands moving to grab onto him and pull him back onto me, but he pushed my arms back into the couch and held them there for a moment, before sitting back again.

“No, no, angel, I’m looking at your pretty pussy,” he teased me, hands grabbing at my full thighs to keep them spread wide. I looked down and suddenly an insecurity reared its head again. About two years ago I had stopped shaving in my intimate area, only trimming it a little, cause it irritated my skin too much and the last time I was about to get some, the guy called me disgusting. Wooyoung was currently watching me like a starved man in front of a feast, but still I nervously covered myself with my hands. His eyes flicked up to me, questioning, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry,” was all I said, mad at myself that I couldn’t even properly get out why I was suddenly so uncomfortable, and he looked at me all confused. “What are you sorry for?” he asked, but then realisation lit up his eyes and he moved to stand up from the couch, “Did you change your mind? You know it’s okay to tell me.” I looped my legs around his waist to pull him back to me and he fell forward with an “oof”. This pressed his erect cock to my core as he held himself up with his hands right by my head and we both moaned at the contact. My legs kept encouraging him to grind into me and for a moment we both just breathlessly moved against each other, Woo releasing little moans and sighs into the heated air between us, and I watched his half-lidded eyes slowly become hazy with pleasure, utterly fascinated.

“So I guess no changing of minds,” he chuckled on a small groan as his hips started thrusting a little harsher against me, losing all rationality and just chasing pleasure. “No, nothing like that,” I whispered back and pulled him for a kiss for the first. As soon as our lips touched, we started hungrily devouring each other, moaning into each other’s mouths and our hands grabbing onto each other desperately. I ended up helplessly grabbing onto his back and most probably leaving red scratches in my wake.

After a moment Woo pulled away, sat back on his heels again and I whined and tried to pull him back, leading him to laugh at me once more; but his fingers went straight for my pussy, spreading it open and sliding through the wetness there. As if placated, I immediately stopped whining and arched my back more, begging for his touch.

“What was that about before?” he asked slightly breathless and I could see he was being serious, even though his finger started slowly circling my clit and playing around. I could barely concentrate on explaining as I was too busy drowning in the liquid pleasure spreading through my entire body.

“Just a little… hng- a little insecure about- about my hair,” I answered while writhing around, simultaneously wanting more and hoping he’d stop so that I could explain properly. His eyes immediately flicked down between my legs just as his finger slid down and slowly slipped into me. I moaned loudly, hands grabbing and squeezing the couch. His gaze was trained on my hole as he pumped his finger in a few times and then quickly slid in a second one.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he whispered, still watching his fingers slowly fucking into me, his other hand going to squeeze his erection still tenting his sweats. My mouth was hanging open, eyes unfocused, noises just pouring out as I was finally feeling full for the first time. But then suddenly he pulled his fingers out and focused on me again. I actually sobbed out, trying to close my legs to keep his hand from leaving, but they were still kept spread by his hips.

“Why would you be insecure about it?” Wooyoung whispered and it took me a moment to remember what we were talking about before. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him, sitting between my spread legs with an obvious erection in sweats stained by my wetness from our grinding before. I flushed again and tore my eyes away from his cock, only to catch his smug smirk. I schooled my expression and said: “The last guy I was with called it disgusting. Said he’s not Columbus to be exploring the rainforest.” Wooyoung scoffed.

“What a fucking asshole, who even comes up with shit like that?” he asked incredulously, “Well, clearly he’s a fucking coward, but thankfully… I’ve always liked a little bit of adventure.” He said the last bit all flirty, winking like an absolute sleaze and I just knew something awful was coming. “Besides,” he said while pressing himself into me again, “the rainforest is the perfect place for my anaconda.” I groaned, but this time from pure embarrassment at his jokes while he cackled like a madman. I pushed him away and started to turn around so that I could stand up.

“God, I changed my mind, get off of me,” I said morosely, but he just grabbed my hips and used the momentum to turn me around and get me on all fours, then pressed us together. A bolt of arousal shot through me, and my arms buckled under my weight, my face pressing into the couch while my ass stayed propped up by Wooyoung, pressed into his hips.

“Actually, this is quite a good idea,” he said grinding into me, “I always knew you’d love to be fucked like this.” He bent over me, his chest pressing into my back as he whispered straight into my ear. “Pressed down like this, taken from behind quick, rough and dirty,” he murmured, “Put nicely in your place…” I moaned unabashed, hips pushing back onto his cock on their own and lust making itself painfully known again; in response I could feel Wooyoung’s hands tightening on my skin and suddenly he pulled back to hurriedly tug his sweats down. His hands made their home on my hips, squeezing and pulling, keeping me pressed into him, his cock slotting between my thighs and sliding along my wet pussy. I keened and attempted to grind back, but he held me as his hips pulled back.

“God, please,” I begged, “Please, Wooyoung, give it to me…” He held himself with one hand and I heard him chuckle. “You want it?” he teased. I felt the head of his cock gently teasing around my hole, slightly pushing in and pulling out again. I sobbed exasperated and nodded, face mushed into the couch and hands grabbing onto the throw pillows, my whole body just fucking screaming for his cock to spear me through and through, cunt spasming and tightening around nothing.

“Yes! Yes, please!” I cried and he finally slid inside in one slow thrust. I moaned with relief and sagged into the couch a little, finally getting what I’ve been wanting this whole time. Wooyoung groaned behind me and his hands dug into the skin of my hips, pushing us impossibly together. The feeling of fullness satisfied something wild and primal in me and I found myself struggling to close my mouth, too blissed out to do anything.

He stilled for a moment to get us both accustomed to the feeling, but clearly both of us were too horny to wait even a little longer, because the second I pushed my hips back into him, he started slowly grinding in small circles and it wasn’t long before it shifted into shallow thrusts punching out little gasps out of me.

I only had to whine out “please!” once to get Wooyoung to speed up and pound into me in a much faster pace, to both of our reliefs. Woo’s cool had quickly melted away into a desperate quick pace that had tiny whiny moans spilling out of him. I wasn’t fairing much better, the slide of his cock along my walls from this angle was absolutely heavenly and within few moments had me absolutely losing my already frayed mind. With my head turned away from the cushions I found myself unable to close my mouth, moans freely slipping out and bouncing off of the walls of the living room. Embarrassingly enough I could feel a string of drool coming out of the corner of my mouth onto the couch, but I couldn’t force myself to care when Wooyoung was fucking me so good.

It quickly became obvious we were both too horny and turned on to keep any kind of decorum, so we descended into a messy filthy fucking, Woo eventually bending over me and plastering his chest to my back, mouthing and biting at my neck in between grunts and groans. Just thinking about how deliciously I was filled with his cock had me moaning loudly, Wooyoung chuckling as if he wasn’t the same, losing his mind over the tight wet heat enveloping him in a torturous hug.

I found myself quickly spiralling, the molten pleasure pumping through my body at an alarming speed. I reached back and pulled at Wooyoung’s hips, forcing him to shift his leg a little closer and putting his hips a little higher over mine, giving him perfect access to that one spot deep inside of me with every thrust. I lost all control over my body then, taken over by the all-consuming pleasure, the moans coming out higher and louder with every thrust.

“God- ah aah-“ I panted out, hands digging into the pillows looking for any kind of purchase to withstand the onslaught of sensations, “I- I’m cumming so-soon.” Wooyoung giggled breathlessly into my shoulder and his hips suddenly gained back a little more direction, aiming to hit the spot with every slam into me, slowly speeding up until he was railing me like a madman, the wet squelch of my cunt and slapping of skin on skin accompanying the cacophony of our joined pleasure. I wailed, unable to keep up with the mounting climax, almost screaming on every thrust inlaid with little gasps, groans and cut off gibberish pouring out of my mouth. It felt as if my entire body lit up, the bliss becoming a little too much for me to properly register beyond “Oh god! Oh yes!” ringing through every inch of my very being.

Then Wooyoung’s hand moved to my tit again and squeezed and pinched the pierced nipple few times, even giving it some light slaps. My whole body seized up on a lightning strike of pleasure and the orgasm hit me like an actual truck, getting thrown over the edge so unexpectedly and with such force that I gave one last wheezing cry, mind blanking out and all I could register was the white ecstasy pouring through me, out of me, as if my entire body was made out of it, every nerve screaming with it.

Distantly I registered Wooyoung’s startled cries and moans, his hips jerking against mine quickly and erratically, his hands back on my hips tightening until I could feel his nails biting into my skin and was sure I’d have a nice set of imprints for at least the rest of the day. Then he stilled over me, cock pushed as deep inside as it could go, pulsing and throbbing as the cum poured out in thick spurts. His deep groan of satisfaction reverberated through my whole body since he was still pressed into my back tightly, letting me enjoy the moment with him.

As if invisible strings were cut, we both collapsed into the couch and hazily I realised I only stayed upright because Wooyoung was holding me so he could fuck me harder. After few minutes my mind slowly started coming back, body tiredly catching up, registering the pleasurable ordeal it just went through. I could feel my pussy throbbing, hot and wet from being thoroughly fucked and filled with Woo’s release, my hips hurting from the pounding. I was almost expecting to see bruises all over me.

For a few moments only laboured breathing was heard through the room as we both recovered, the haze gradually lifting, allowing us to come to terms with what had just happened between us. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward at all. It may have been because I was still lying boneless, unable to speak from the force of the orgasm with Wooyoung’s softening cock still wedged deep inside of my pussy, but I found myself quite comfortable squished into the couch, feeling his shallow breaths in the crook of my neck and his thumping heart against my back. I wondered if he could feel mine, as it was beating just as wildly.

But the comfy silence was broken by the man himself, when he whistled and said: “Wow, I had no idea you could do that.” There was a little teasing undertone to his statement, but mostly I could detect only giddy wonder and pride.

“Do what?” my words still a little slurred, because I was still recovering the functions of my brain and fighting sleep, so deeply sated I could barely hold a full thought.

“Squirt,” Woo stated matter-of-factly, his hands beginning to gently caress my sides to help me come down. “Huh?” I said eloquently and turned to look at him. He just gave me a soft grin, eyes squinting in joy as he took in my state. “I did what?” the question was more rhetorical and I wasn’t even really talking to Wooyoung, rather I started to squirm trying to look down as if my pussy held the answer. And in some way it did. When I managed to lift up my hips a little, my whole body protesting and Wooyoung behind me grunting at the jostling of his soft cock, hands digging into my hips to try and hold me still, I saw that the couch beneath us was absolutely soaked. Slight panic seized me, I didn’t even know why, it was just a natural reaction of my tired brain to the information that apparently Wooyoung, my best friend, had made me squirt for the first time in my life, all over Seonghwa’s lovely sofa. Well, at least it did explain why the orgasm had been so fucking intense, feeling as if the soul left my body and astral projected into a parallel universe.

The squirming dislodged Wooyoung from me and a splat of his cum joined the already huge stain on the furnishing. Now I winced, realising that there was no way either of us was surviving this. Unceremoniously I plopped back down into the mess and turned to Wooyoung, who was sweaty and rosy-cheeked, watching me with amusement.

“Seonghwa is going to fucking murder us,” I muttered tiredly, already back to fighting sleep off now that I was lying again. I let my eyes fall shut and only heard Wooyoung’s answering laugh, only felt him get up from the couch and gently roll me over on my back. There was shuffling, rustling of clothes and footsteps around the living room, but I couldn’t find the strength to look at what was Woo doing, letting myself drift on the high and the aftershocks that were still coursing through me.

Wooyoung was humming somewhere in the apartment and then there was a gentle touch on my hip. I whined but let him do what he needed. A warm wet towel was pressed onto my stomach lightly in lieu of warning and I slowly opened my legs again, feeling the strain and the burn that just hurt so good. Woo tenderly cleaned me up with soft unhurried strokes, then helped me sit up against the pillows to try and put some clothes back on me.

I blearily opened my eyes and blinked at him. Wooyoung was kneeling on the floor in front of me wearing only his sweats and holding his black tee. When he saw I was back in the land of living, he slowly pulled it over my head and helped my arms into the sleeves. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy from his sudden softness, thoroughly enjoying this after-care, suddenly found myself overtaken by the violent need to cuddle and sleep it off, so I was just about to suggest that, when he suddenly sprung to his feet and pulled me up with him. I let myself be man-handled with only a slight surprised yelp, but suddenly standing I realised my legs still weren’t in working order, if my shaking buckling knees were anything to go by, so I just grabbed onto his shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t let me fall.

He didn’t. Another nicely warm towel was now wiping my butt of anything I had been sitting in, his hand gently patting it before putting me back onto the couch in the area that was dry.

I wanted to sleep, but I was too amused by the picture of Wooyoung standing in front of the huge wet stain with a deep thinking expression on his face, wracking his brain for anything to do about it. When a giggle escaped me, suddenly his eyes were on me with a mischievous glint.

“You made the mess and now you laugh at me when I’m trying to save our lives?” he asked jokingly, amusement lacing his tone. I giggled again and curled around one of the pillows, fully committed to watching the comedy unfold. Wooyoung just sighed and looked at the couch as if it murdered his first-born.

“I gotta come up with something before-“ his voice was cut off by the door suddenly opening and a commotion coming in. There were three voices happily chattering something and I could recognise the guys from that. With terror I met Wooyoung’s eyes the moment we registered Seonghwa as one of the voices. Before any of us could even move a muscle, the three men walked into the room and promptly froze in their tracks.

“Holy shit!” It was San who shouted that, but we were focused on the cacophony of emotion going through Seonghwa’s face seconds before he cried out “MY COUCH!!” on the top of his lungs. There was genuine anguish and betrayal in his voice before his eyes redirected from the stain to us with pure fury.

“Okay! Time to take a shower!” Wooyoung shouted and pulled me up, but ended up supporting my entire body when my knees buckled and I was balancing on shaking legs like a new-born fawn. From this angle I could see the pure amusement and approval on San’s face right next to the disgusted traumatised Yeosang. I blushed furiously and let Wooyoung drag me off to a bathroom, where he sat me gently on the toilet.

“I’m going back out,” he whispered with determination as if he was about to walk into a battlefield, leaving his wounded comrade in the safety, knowing there was only death outside. I snickered at him and he theatrically waved at me from the door, before walking out and shutting it behind him.

I could still fairly clearly hear everything go down though, especially when only moments later Yeosang popped in to give me my clothes and stuff I left on the table and didn’t close the door fully after him. My phone was vibrating like crazy, which could only mean San was already blessing the group chat with all the piping hot tea. I unlocked it and clicked on the notifs.

Mountain man: lolol woo and y/n fucked on the couch and completely ruined it

Princess: ew fuck you wooyoung

Muscle baby: i’ll never fucking use the living room again

Brat: 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

The situation unfolding in chat was interrupted by the scene that was going on in the living room in the real time.

“Calm down, I’ll think of something,” Wooyoung’s voice carried through, trying to console Hwa only to be followed by another shriek of “BUT MY COUCH!!”.

“Wow Wooyoung, I really thought better of you,” Sannie teased, adding oil to fire and I could clearly hear his laughs. No signs of Yeosang, but he was probably just standing there watching it all go down.

“I spent months picking it out!” the level of hysteria was steadily rising in Hwa’s voice and I really slowly started fearing for Woo’s life. “I’m gonna have it dry cleaned or something,” the said man offered only to be met with more shrieking.

“You better fucking throw that thing out, there’s no way I’m sitting on it after this,” San added very unhelpfully to the conversation, “especially since I saw the state of it.” There was a beat of silence during which I imagined Wooyoung was throwing daggers at San with his gaze for stirring more shit into it.

“I’ll buy a new one,” was his final plea and while it was met with some more grumbling and fake-crying, I could hear the situation calming down.

Captain: what the fuck is happening there when i’m not home

Mountain man: fornication

Demon angel: disgusting

M o t h e r: MY COUCH

M o t h e r: my amazing couch in the perfect shade of blue that i was looking for

M o t h e r: DEAD AND DEFILED

Puppy: i’ll help you look for a new one, hyung

Mountain man: wooyoung already agreed to buy a new one since he was the cause of the *suspiciously* large stain

Captain: no details

Captain: never any details

Captain: first rule of fight club

xoxo from hell: 🤔🤔

xoxo from hell: i think

Princess: oooh she breaks her silence

xoxo from hell: that a certain man here in this chat should rather shut up considering last week i walked in on him fucking a girl on the kitchen table

Brat: oop-

Mountain man: Y/N

Mountain man: NO

Demon angel: 🤮

Muscle baby: RIGHT WHERE WE EAT???!!!

Puppy: eat pussy apparently

Princess: nice

Captain: don’t encourage him

“MY KITCHEN TABLE?!” Seonghwa’s scream sounded through the flat just as Wooyoung slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him with a wide grin. Distantly I could hear San’s pleading and general chaos as Hwa no doubt started raining fury upon him.

“Nice save,” Wooyoung smirked at me and started ridding us of clothes so we could finally take the shower we both desperately needed. The feeling of the hot water hitting my spent and pleasantly aching body relaxed me and I sighed with content. I was basically ready to melt into a puddle right there, sleep slowly rearing its head back up, so I just went with the motion and let Woo soap us both up and rinse us, I let him dry me and put a fresh tee on me that I didn’t even notice he brought with him. I was just watching him with eyes half closed and a doped out smile on my face.

“You’re so cute like this,” Woo muttered as he led me through the hall to his room, amusement and fondness filling his voice with uncharacteristic gentle sweetness. Upon entering his room I immediately beelined for the bed and burrowed myself between the blankets and pillows. Woo rummaged around in his closet for a moment, but it was the only sound I could hear as the apartment suddenly fell almost eerily quiet.

“If I’m so cute now,” I finally mumbled out from underneath the cozy pile, “maybe you should fuck me more often then.” That had Wooyoung turning around to face me with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to do that,” he said devilishly and jumped in with me. It took a bit of shuffling to get into a comfortable spooning position, but we were no strangers to cuddling each other, so it went rather smoothly.

Just as the sleep was claiming me and I felt myself getting pulled under, Woo suddenly perked up and said: “You don’t think the silence means hyung murdered San and now Yeosang’s helping him get rid of the body, right?” I snickered gently, but just swatted at him to lay back down.

“Well, he probably deserved it,” Woo muttered and snuggled in closer to me, letting the exhaustion finally lull us to sleep. And it was the most comfortable sleep I’ve had in a while, even if San potentially paid for it with his life.

Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics 💜

A/N: hope you enjoyed yourself, don't be shy I'm always open to comments and asks!!

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung fic #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 month

Text

Angst with a happy ending, older Eddie, reader acting like a brat. Arguments then fluff. 18+, mdni.

🎀✨💞

Sex. Just sex. That's all you were to Eddie. Knowing it and accepting it was hard for you. So much so that you were in one hell of a mood.

And acting like a major brat. At first Eddie took it in his stride, maybe you were getting sick or you didn't sleep that good.

He usually had endless patience when it came to you. You had him wrapped around your little finger yet you didn't even know it. Not that Eddie would admit it but it was true.

Despite that your attitude was beginning to grate on him and he had enough.

Eddie loses patience. "What the fuck is wrong with you today? why are you so bitchy?" He's put up with your sullenness and attitude all day and he's tired of it.

"I'm fine" you snap, there's no way you could tell him what was really wrong. That you were completely in love with him and he only saw you as a fuck buddy.

Then that would be the end of your relationship and you didn't want it to end. You had grown attached to Eddie so quickly, you'd be heartbroken if your relationship ended.

"Obviously you're not fine if you've been in a mood all day. What the hell is wrong? Clearly I spoil you too fucking much because you're acting like a spoiled brat" tears pool in your eyes and you will them away.

"So now I'm just an annoyance to you?" You question him and he shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.

"I give up. You're twisting my words" you look away feeling your heart sink at his words. Maybe you should just tell him? Rip off the band aid or so to speak.

Unfortunately your mouth runs away with you before you can think about it. "You're the one who called me a brat" he rolls his eyes, folds his arms across his chest and gives you a dark look.

"Because you are! From the moment you woke up to now, all I've had is you bitching in my ear even when I asked you what is wrong, you don't answer"

Anxiety claws in your veins and you don't know what to say to salvage the situation. You shouldn't have been so moody, you know that but the argument had pretty much spiralled out of control.

"Well why don't I just leave then if I'm annoying you so much?" you snap and gather your clothes. He shrugs and his body language turns cold, colder then you've ever seen.

"Maybe you should" the tears flow freely at his tone and you kick yourself as you rush downstairs. You may have just ruined everything.

You were so scared that admitting your feelings to Eddie would mean you would lose him, and it was killing you keeping your feelings a secret.

Turns out that maybe you had just lost him anyway.

...

After the argument with Eddie you feel even worse and plan to cuddle in bed and shut off from the world just for a little bit.

Eddie had other plans. It isn't long before he's at your house, quietly letting himself in and making his way upstairs. He hated seeing you cry, it was like a punch to the gut and he was anxious to make it up to you.

He was also very keen to get to the root of the problem and why you were acting out so much today. Something was bothering you for you to act this way. He wanted to find out what it was.

Your quiet sobs reach him and it tears at his heart as he enters your room and finds you curled up on the bed. Hiding away.

Tenderly Eddie stokes your hair and you turn to face him. He wipes your tears away and sighs.

"You didn't have to come over so late. I know you're working early tomorrow" you murmur and he softens as he lays beside you.

"I'm my own boss. I make my own start time sweetheart. I had to see you. Couldn't sleep without my princess beside me could I?" He settles beside you and you smile.

"I'm sorry, I was bitchy. I didn't mean to be" he kisses your hair and nods accepting the apology.

"I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled at you or called you a brat. Please tell me what's wrong? You're obviously anxious about something" you bite your lip and he waits for you to say.

"I'm scared" you whisper to him and he feels heartbroken at this. He never wants you to feel scared or that you can't talk to him, you can talk to him about anything.

"Princess, you can tell me anything. You never have to be scared of telling me anything" he holds you close and feels you relax. You still hide your face in his shoulder as you work up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm in love with you, I know you don't feel the same way but I just wanted you to know. It's killing me not saying anything"

Eddie is stunned. This is what got you so worked up, that you were in love with him? Did you think he'd reject you?

Jesus h Christ, did you not realise that he was so in love with you too? He'd never felt this way about anyone. It scared him how deep his feelings were but he has been planning to tell you for ages.

He just wanted it to be the right time and be romantic. Turns out he had waited too long and you were thinking he didn't love you.

That wouldn't do at all.

"I'm so in love with you. How can you not see that?" Eddie caresses your cheek and you feel all of your fears slip away. You snuggle into him and peer up with pure joy on your face.

"I love you too Eddie"

All of this angst and shit could have been avoided if you had both just spoken up sooner. Both of you make a vow that night to always communicate your feelings.

But first a lot of making up was required ;)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson

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godslino · 3 months

Text

GUTTER BALL | changbin first date series. one night stand to lovers.

pairing: changbin x fem!reader word count: 5.2k genre: non idol au, fluff warnings: implied sexual content, swearing, mentions of drinking summary: a one night stand with changbin ends in pancakes and the promise of a date. the rest is history.

a/n: finally! the changbin chapter! i just want to take a second to say THANK YOU for all the support you guys have given this series so far. reading everyone's comments is genuinely the highlight of my day and i'm so happy you're all enjoying it. please remember that both my taglist and my requests are open, so don't be shy. once again, any and all feedback is appreciated. you guys are awesome, happy reading <3

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that this is not your room.

Blackout curtains, a lamp on the bedside table painting the walls in a warm glow, navy blue sheets that are pulled over your bare chest and—oh.

Oh.

“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing your arm over your eyes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Everything comes flooding back in an instant: the bar, dark curly hair, one too many drinks, a voice low in your ear, stumbling through his apartment door, the most ripped arms you’ve ever seen, and that tongue—

The sound of a door unlocking shakes you from your thoughts, followed by shoes being kicked off as you scramble to sit up and hug the sheet tighter around your body.

What was his name—Changbin? Changbin. That sounds right. At least from the memories you have where it was coming out in strangled moans from your throat. Which is dry, by the way, undoubtedly from the amount of alcohol and the…strain it was put through.

You don’t really have time to unpack that particular part of last night’s events when there’s a knock at the door—funny, because this is his room.

Flattening your back against the headboard, you clear your throat as best you can, “Come in.”

When it opens, Changbin’s head pops through, tufts of his hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. “Hey,” he says softly before stepping all the way in. He takes one look at you, your hands holding the bedsheet in a death grip, and wordlessly walks over to his dresser.

“I bought food,” he says with his back turned, pulling out a sweatshirt. He pulls out a few sweatpants too, shuffles through them until he finds some with a drawstring, and then turns back around to face you with the clothes held in his hand.

He looks…apologetic? Nervous? Really, really cute? That’s not a question, actually. He is cute.

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re seeing him in better lighting for the first time, or maybe because you’re sober, or maybe because the only other image you have of him is when he’s hovering over your body and making you see stars, but you can’t help the little fluttering feeling that starts in your chest when he gives you a small smile.

“Your dress is kind of…I, uh…it’s ripped.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at the same time you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh,” is all you can say as you desperately try to remember that part of the night. Hands are all you see, big and strong, and you silently let your gaze fall to them as he moves forward to place the clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, “You can have these. They should fit you, and I don’t mind losing them. Consider it my reimbursement for ruining your dress.”

You lean forward slowly, still holding the blanket to your chest, and Changbin has to stop himself from staring at the exposed skin of your shoulder when your hair falls forward in the process. “These are—” your eyes go wide, “Balenciaga?!”

He blinks like you didn’t just name drop a brand that sells singular articles of clothing for double your paycheck. “Yeah?”

“I can’t take this.”

“Why not?”

“This costs more than me,” you say incredulously.

He moves to argue, but then a slow grin starts to spread across his face. He tones it down, minimizes it to a single upturn of the left side of his mouth. “I mean, you don’t have to wear anything. I don’t mind either way.” Changbin smirks, and you narrow your eyes.

“However,” he continues, “I would really, really like to see you in my clothes.”

🎳

“He gave you a what hoodie?” Felix’s voice is distant on the other end of the line. The clicking of his keyboard stops, there’s a rustle, and then suddenly his mouth is a lot closer to the speaker than it’d previously been.

Changbin’s en suite is huge, just like his bedroom. Once he slipped out to give you privacy, claiming he was going to set up the food, you’d allowed yourself to fully take in your surroundings. A california king sized bed, a walk in closet, an attached bathroom with a balcony.

You sigh, leaning back against the marble sink. Changbin’s sweats sit low on your hips, his hoodie all but swallowing your figure into the material.

“That’s not the point, Felix. Were you even listening to me? An entire five minute monologue about how I’m in his house and all you care about is the Balenciaga?”

“Does he have any, like, really hot friends?”

“Felix.”

“Wait. Is he really hot?”

“Felix!” you bring a hand to your forehead, using your thumb and middle finger to rub at the spots just above your eyebrows. “You’re not helping here.”

“Okay,” Felix says, his voice low, “It’s just that I’m having an issue seeing what the problem is.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to fight the oncoming headache as Felix rambles on.

“This guy brought you back to his place, rocked your world, and then what? Cuddled you? Bought you breakfast? Gave you his clothes that are worth more than my car and is now waiting for you to come out of his bathroom and enjoy a nice meal? And that’s bad because…?”

“You know what? I’m hanging up.”

“The hell you are! I left my fucking fortnite match for this! You’d better go out there and—” You slam your phone down on the bathroom counter, the sound echoing. If Felix wasn’t going to validate your very unnecessary nerves, then so be it.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unfamiliar with the person looking back. It’s a little jarring, the sight of you in someone else’s clothes. A man’s clothes, no less.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything close to this sort of…intimacy. Hookups are normal for you, sure. But the mornings after are usually never more than a hurried goodbye as you gather your things and haul ass out the door. Most of the time you don’t even stay, sobered up enough after your post-coital state to slip out into the night and call an uber.

Your memory had come back in full as you were slipping Changbin’s clothes on once he left the room. The sex was great—amazing even. But afterwards, when he turned over and slipped an arm around your waist and hooked his chin on your shoulder was what really scared you.

Okay, maybe scared is an exaggeration. You aren’t scared, it’s just been a while. So what if you don’t crave male validation? Sex is the fun part anyways. Dating doesn’t necessarily go well for you, and feelings are definitely off the table when it comes to hookups. Because that’s all it is: a hookup. Changbin is no different.

You give yourself a total of thirty more seconds before braving a step out into the hallway, sheepishly peeking around the corner.

The apartment is unsurprisingly huge as well: a high ceiling, intricate marble flooring, a chandelier hung in the center of the living room that reflects the sunlight coming in from the floor-to-wall windows on the opposite side.

“Woah,” you say to no one in particular, walking into the dining room area, “This place is intense.”

Changbin looks up from his phone. His hat is off now, a mop of curls sit messily on his head, thick-rimmed glasses are situated at the tip of his nose, his arms—straining against the fabric of his black t-shirt—rest heavily on the table. You watch as he lets his eyes travel the length of you, painfully slow, something unreadable behind them.

“Food’s ready,” is all he says with a smile.

You sit down across from him, eyes wide. It’s like he bought out the entirety of an IHOP while you were asleep. There’s pancakes and waffles, hash browns and toast, an assortment of fruit, two different omelets, two cups of coffee, and at least five different types of syrup options.

“Are we…” you trail off, meeting his expectant gaze, “…expecting other people?”

Changbin nervously scratches his chin. “No, uh, I just—I didn’t know what you liked. And you were sleeping, so…yeah. I tried to cover all the bases.”

When you don’t respond, your eyes transfixed on him, he clears his throat. “Please eat,” he says, extending a hand to gesture at the food, “Let me know if there’s anything else you want.”

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing a fork. Changbin waits until he’s certain you don’t immediately hate it and then starts to eat, too.

It’s quiet, comfortable, sounds of cutlery clinking against plates are the only thing filling the silence as the two of you try to soothe your hangovers with full stomachs. You steal glances at him throughout, watch the way his lips pout when he chews, and then shyly look back down at your plate when he catches you staring. It’s kind of sweet, the idea that he did all this despite only having met you twelve hours ago.

It should be more awkward, too. You’re going to have to talk at some point. There’s an elephant in the room that’s shaped a lot like post-nut clarity mixed with morning-after regret and neither of you are making a move to address it.

“So um, about last night…” Changbin starts a few minutes later. He looks nervous, like he doesn’t know how to vocalize what he plans on saying next.

You nod, putting your fork down. This was to be expected. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m done eating, don’t worry.” Changbin’s head snaps in your direction. “It was really nice of you to get food and stuff, so thank you. I can put my dress back on too so that way I don’t have to take—”

“What?” Changbin furrows his eyebrows, “No. Wait. I’m not kicking you out, Jesus.”

You blink. “You’re not?”

“Of course not.” He stills. “Is that how these things usually go for you?”

Well that isn’t exactly a question you planned on answering. What are you supposed to say? Yeah haha I actually just kind of leave before they have a chance to come back from the bathroom?

“I mean, is that not how it goes for you?”

The blush that spreads across Changbin’s cheeks is hard to ignore. “I don’t—uh…I don’t do this.”

“You don’t buy girls breakfast after you sleep with them?”

“No I don’t—I don’t bring girls home.” He admits.

Oh.

“So I’m…?” The first, you want to ask.

“Yeah.”

Oh.

You’ve never been in this situation before. Apparently that’s Changbin’s specialty: helping you experience things that you normally wouldn’t.

“Listen,” he starts again, licking his lips. His leg is bouncing nervously, visible through the glass table. “I didn’t intend to sleep with you last night. Not because I didn’t want to! Fuck, I—I wanted to. And it was…God, it was amazing. But I feel kind of bad, because everything is out of order and I don’t want it to seem like I’m only trying to ask you now just because I want to get in your pants again or something but like—”

“Changbin,” you cut him off, “Breathe. You don’t—whatever it is you want to say, you can say it.”

He visibly relaxes as soon as his name comes out of your mouth.

“Can I take you on a date?”

There’s a long silence that follows, one that makes you question whether or not he actually said what you think he did. It feels a little surreal, not just the situation but Changbin himself. You went into this blind, completely void of any expectations, but somehow came out of it with—

“A…date?” you ask hesitantly.

“A date.” He repeats, more confident this time. “A real one. Not just a hookup. I mean, I thought you were beautiful—still do! That’s why I approached you at first. I wasn’t expecting to come back here but we were both drinking and then one thing lead to another and your face was so close and I—”

“Okay.” You say, stabbing at a piece of pancake with your fork.

“Okay?” Changbin asks, blinking at you like he didn’t hear correctly.

“I mean,” you swallow your food, “Typically I’d say you’re just trying to sleep with me, because what guy does all of this for a girl he knows literally nothing about?” Changbin nods in understanding. “But we’re kind of past that, aren’t we? So clearly you don’t have any other motives.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. Nope. Definitely don’t.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, to which he visibly pales. “Wait, not like that. I just mean that I’m motivated by the fact that you’re beautiful and I want to get to know you not…anything else.”

When you laugh it’s soft, no more than a few heavy exhales out of your nose. Changbin wishes he could hear it more, could get you to open up to him. “I’m not too sure there’s much you’d want to know.” You admit.

“Well that’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

His tone is different now, much more confident. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s more at ease with the conversation, or maybe it’s because he wants to prove you wrong. Either way, it makes anticipation stir deep in your gut. Changbin is different, a good different.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“So it’s a date?” He picks up a piece of watermelon with his fork, holds it out to you in some sort of a toast.

“Depends,” you poke another piece of your pancakes and let it hover in front of your face, “Are you gonna buy more of these?”

“I could make that happen.” He smiles, and for the first time you let yourself get lost in it.

“Then yeah,” you push your hand forward, clinking the sides of your forks together, “It’s a date.”

🎳

changbin [8:30am]

for you 🥞

you [8:31am]

are you going to do this every day?

changbin [8:31am]

absolutely

what kind of a man would that make me if i didn’t deliver your pancakes in the morning?

you [8:34am]

a normal one

changbin [8:34am]

sounds boring

do you want syrup with those?

🎳

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Felix says, leaning against the doorframe. He watches as you adjust your hair in the mirror, a wary look on his face from where you can see his reflection over your shoulder.

It’s been two weeks since you and Changbin hooked up. You’ve texted nonstop since then, most of it just casual conversation. It’s kind of nice; you get to hear about his day, what songs he’s currently listening to, and find out that he’s one hundred percent committed to the pancake bit. You let him know more about yourself too: your job, your annoying coworkers, which one of your comfort shows you’re rewatching for the fourth time. Changbin makes it a point to text you every morning and every night. You open your eyes to a pancake delivery and then close them after answering the question of: What type of pancakes do you want tomorrow?

Today, it was blueberry. Because today is the day you’re finally going on your date—and because Changbin’s sheets (that you haven’t stopped thinking about for some reason) are blue.

“What’s there to not believe, Lix?” you ask, turning to face him.

“I’m just worried.” He says, walking forward to place both hands on your shoulders. His face is serious, eyebrows pulled together slightly in that concerned look you know too well. Felix has seen firsthand what your last relationship did to you, spent nights with you tucked under his arm as you cried it out and he shoveled ice cream into your mouth. So yeah, he has the room to be worried.

“What if you mess up and I lose my chance to be his friend so he can give me a Balenciaga hoodie?”

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Whatever the hell happens in the tv shows. You shove his arms away with a scoff, rolling your eyes when he stumbles to the side as he laughs.

“You are so annoying.”

“And you better not ruin my chances of getting with one of his producer friends!” Felix calls out as you walk towards the living room. “I saw a cute one on his instagram. Don’t know his name—there was no tag, but oh my God, I love his nose.”

“You went through his socials?” you ask in disbelief, staring at him as he bends down to rummage through the fridge.

“Uh, yeah? Had to make sure he wasn’t some sort of weirdo that could possibly turn out to be a serial killer. Please, I’m not that bad of a best friend.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” You smile, laughing at the pout he shoots your way.

Changbin’s got his hands in his pockets when you swing the door open. His hair is even fluffier than you remember, a white t-shirt hugging his chest perfectly beneath his jacket and—the glasses. The damn glasses. Your stomach starts churning at the sight, the smallest of cracks in your reserve starting to form.

“You’re early,” you say, giving him a questioning look.

Changbin shrugs. “I was excited.”

“Sweet talking to me isn't gonna work, you know?”

“I don’t have a reason to sweet talk, I’m just being honest.” Changbin’s teeth are white when he flashes them, bright and sincere. He makes talking so easy, like he’s practiced it a thousand times. You like that.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Changbin grins, grabbing your hand and leading you down towards his car.

🎳

Changbin, as you come to find out, is full of surprises.

First, he’s ridiculously good at driving. One hand on the wheel, the other mindlessly playing with yours where his hand rests on top of your thigh. The way he maneuvers the car is, well, it’s hot. It’s also really hard to focus your attention anywhere but his hands, especially when you know what they can do.

Second, he’s really, really silly. Most of the usual small talk made on a first date was done over text since it took so long to find a day that both of you were free, but that just made it so falling into step beside one another was that much easier.

Changbin isn’t afraid to sing along with whatever song is on the radio. In fact, he’s actually really good at singing. Well, when he’s not forcing the dramatics and belting at the top of his lungs while he pretends to romantically serenade you in the passenger’s seat. You can’t help but giggle, swatting his hand away when he makes exaggerated gestures in your direction during certain high notes.

Third, he makes your heart flutter. And not just the usual Oh you’re cute kind. No. Changbin makes your heart feel like it’s going to melt into the floor, all of your senses hyper aware of every part of him, wanting and craving more even when he’s right next to you.

He makes you laugh at unexpected times, encourages you to keep speaking if you ramble on for too long about something completely random, and his smile—oh man. Maybe Felix was right to be worried. Not about you messing up, but about you being absolutely head over heels for this guy.

By the time Changbin pulls into an empty parking spot, the two of you have settled into a natural back and forth that has your head reeling with how much fun it is.

“A bowling alley?” you ask, turning to him. Changbin turns the car off, stares at you in expectation. “You spent, like, five minutes telling me that you were taking me to the one place you feel most at home and it’s a bowling alley?”

“Woah, hold on. Are you mocking me?” Changbin smiles again, and suddenly nothing else matters.

“No I’m just—I feel bad.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Bad? Why?”

“I’m gonna, like, kick your ass at this. You know that right?” You say, chuckling.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, and then he’s laughing. A high pitched, steady trill of laughter that sends you into your own fit of giggles just from the residual joy that’s oozing out of him.

Once he’s composed himself enough, he points a finger in your direction, “Oh you are so on.”

The alley is pretty empty, the only other bowlers being at a far lane at the end of the building. Changbin takes the liberty of paying and grabbing both of your shoes, and you silently follow behind him as he leads you to your assigned lane.

“Weight?” he asks, tying his laces.

You glance up from your own shoes, watching as he shucks off his jacket. His arms flex nicely under the material of his shirt, straining against the fabric as he ties a knot.

“Huh?” you ask, not entirely present.

Changbin stands, smirks slightly. “What ball weight do you use?”

“Oh, uh, an eight please.”

He nods and disappears off towards the racks of balls, leaving you alone to scold yourself.

“Christ. Get a grip.” You mumble, smacking your forehead lightly with the palm of your hand.

It’s been a while since you bowled. When you were younger, your dad used to take you every once in a while and marvel at how good you were. That was a long time ago, when you had the time to enjoy things rather than work nonstop to keep yourself afloat. It’s kind of bittersweet being back in an alley, different circumstances but still the same familiarity.

Changbin comes back with two balls in his hands and places them on the ball rack. He glances over to where you’re keying in the names, smiling softly when he notices that you put him down as BIN.

“Ready to have all of your hopes and dreams crushed?” you ask, knocking your shoulder with his.

Changbin fakes a stumble, rubs his arm like you full on punched him. “Oh God, I don’t think I can play now.”

“Nice try sweetheart,” you scoff, picking up your ball just as the screen signals for the game to start, “Watch and learn.”

You move up to the beginning of the lane, trying to ignore the way Changbin whistles playfully when you do. The ball fits perfectly in your hand, round and smooth. One deep breath, you pull your arm back, slowly walk forward, and bend at just the right moment to send it off with a thud as it hits the lane. You watch with your breath held, hope that you’re able to prove you’re not all talk, and smile proudly when the ball goes crashing through the center pin, knocking them all out.

Changbin’s jaw is on the floor when you turn around. “Your turn, hot shot.” You say sweetly, patting his shoulder as you plop down in the seat next to him.

He clears his throat. “Alright.” He grunts, stretching his arms for dramatic effect. He lets out a loud yell, one of those Hoo! noises that people make before they’re about to do something crazy.

As he lines up to go, he turns, kisses his hand and blows it in your direction. “This one’s for you!” He shouts, winking when you hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

You watch as he rolls it forward, leans his body to the left when it curves way too far to the right, and then your hand is flying to your mouth to stifle your laughter when the neon pink ball goes straight into the gutter.

“Ah!” He screams, throwing his hands up and behind his head. He whirls around, points an accusatory finger in your direction, “You did this!”

“Me? What’d I do?”

“You distracted me!”

“I did not!

“How am I supposed to focus when the most beautiful girl in the world is watching me?”

“I—” you scoff, fighting the blush on your cheeks as Changbin walks toward you with a shit-eating grin, “Shut up. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He crouches in front of you, trying to catch your eyes when you avert his gaze.

“Stop sweet talking. That’s a violation of the game rules. Cheating. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Trying to distract you or trying to get you to fall head over heels for me?”

You blink, “You don’t have to try and do that.”

Changbin searches your eyes for a long while, like he’s trying to decipher whether or not you’re being sincere. It looks on his face is one of disbelief, like it’s hard for him to be convinced that you reciprocate any of what he feels.

“Now who’s sweet talking?” He laughs.

“I’m not sweet talking, I’m just being honest.”

“That’s my line!”

“Well,” you say, standing to take your turn, “I wasn’t gonna steal your bad bowling skills was I?”

The game continues on after that. Changbin somehow manages to score three more gutterballs until you decide to take pity on him.

“Here, like this,” you say, walking up behind him. Changbin freezes when you press yourself up against his back, your hand steady on his forearm as you adjust his positioning.

“This is a little—”

“What? Don’t like it?” You giggle.

He clears his throat, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

When he sends the ball straight into the middle of the pins, earning his first strike of the night, he can barely contain his excitement as he yells, picking you up and spinning you around while you laugh and throw your arms around his neck.

It feels like floating, being with Changbin. He’s goofy and sweet and he knows exactly how to push your buttons all while making you feel as though you’re the only girl in the world. His smile is as bright as the sun and the way his eyes lock on to yours at any given point in time have you wishing you could lose yourself in them forever.

🎳

In the end, you win. It’s not a surprise to either of you, but Changbin couldn’t be bothered to care less. It doesn’t matter to him, not when he feels like he’s won the lottery every time you smile in his direction. And if that wasn’t enough, when you silently slip your hand into his as the two of you walk back to the car, he swears that he’s the richest man alive.

The feeling is mutual for you, too. Changbin has a way of making you feel like nothing else exists, not when he’s grinning at you from ear to ear and making you laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He’s unprecedented, a stroke of good luck, someone who came into your life when you least expected it.

Changbin, to you, is uncharted territory. He laughs loud and smiles unabashedly. If there’s a lull in conversation he’s not afraid to fill it with one of his many noises or silly dances. He says what he thinks and doesn’t care if it’s too cheesy or makes your cheeks turn just a shade darker with embarrassment.

Changbin is consistent; the first guy that hasn’t thrown you for a loop when it comes to figuring out who he is and what he likes. Changbin is someone you could see yourself falling in love with, one terrible pick up line at a time.

“So…” he says as soon as he walks you to your front door, “I had fun.”

You laugh, glancing down at where he has your pinkies linked on both hands. He’s so cute, everything about him. Changbin, Changbin, Changbin.

“Mmhm, it was really fun teaching you how to bowl.”

Changbin groans, leans his head against your front door. “I was under pressure.”

“That’s okay, I thought it was cute.”

“Hm. Does that mean I didn’t ruin my chances at a second date?”

“Depends,” you say, moving your hands up to clasp behind his neck. Changbin’s immediately fall to your waist, almost like second nature. Right, right, right. Everything feels right. “You could come inside and show me if it’s worth it or not.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, “Don’t do that. You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

Changbin’s words are slow, each one more breathless than the last. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Maybe I want that.”

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours in silent question, “Because I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I first saw you.”

When his lips finally connect with yours, you’re thankful for the grip he has on your waist that prevents you from stumbling. Sweet like the syrup he bought for you that first morning, kissing Changbin is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not hurried or messy; it’s not done with the intent of something more to be given. It’s slow, purposeful, Changbin takes his time like he’s worried if he doesn’t you might break right beneath his fingertips.

He hums softly when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulls you closer until you’re flush against him. Chest to chest, heart to heart—Changbin holds you like he never wants to let go.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are glossy, shining with adoration. You could get used to that.

“So you don’t want to come inside?” You ask again, smiling when he bites his lip.

“Not tonight babe, it’s only the first date. I don’t put out like that.”

You scoff. “Yeah? Well you definitely put something somewhere when I was—”

Changbin cuts you off with a palm over your mouth. “What kind of pancakes do you want tomorrow?” He laughs.

“Mmrrnnf.” You say, muffled his hand. When he removes it, you push your lip out into a pout. “I don’t want pancakes—just want you.”

Changbin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then lets his forehead fall against yours. “You’re making it really, really hard to hold myself back right now.”

You giggle, jutting your lips forward to give him a quick kiss. “Good, it’s working.”

He sighs. “Second date, and then maybe we can talk about…other things. But right now, I just want you to enjoy this. Let yourself settle with the fact that I really, really like you. This wasn’t just a one night stand for me, nor did I ever want it to be.” He plants a kiss on your nose, “I’m kind of, like, crazy about you.”

“Me too,” you say quietly, “About all of it. I want to keep seeing you, Bin. I want to see where this goes.”

Changbin beams. “Good.” He leans down to kiss you one last time, nothing more than a press of his lips to yours, but it’s more full of emotion than the last.

When he pulls away and starts walking backwards to head back down to his car, he feels like he’s on top of the world.

“I’ll text you in the morning?”

You nod. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Good,” he says with a wink, “The pancakes are on me.”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words. It’s crazy how something so small, something so simple can make you feel so strongly for someone. But you guess that Changbin is just like that.

And when you open the door, Felix’s entire body falling over the threshold from where he was leaning against it, you can’t even be bothered to get mad.

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie @drhsthl @shays-library @giuliadesu @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @snowyquokka @caitxx1 @skzstarnet] **colored tags indicate my inability to link your account. this could be due to an error when you filled out the google form or you do not have tags on.

#changbin x reader #skzstarnet #changbin fluff #changbin smut #changbin angst #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin au #changbin one shot #changbin fanfic #changbin fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #skz x reader #first date series #first date series : gutter ball

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islandofsages · 4 months

Note

Hey ! I wanted to request a Ignihyde!Male!Reader that look like a little like Grim ? Like, they have the same ears and tail, the same fire (even if the reader controls his fire better than Grim) and people think they are from the same family/are connect ?

Just Grim and Reader looking at each other and asking to themselves if they have just meet their secret brother, and Ace, Deuce, Ortho, Idia and parental figure!Trein being confused to their friend (Grim for Adeuce, Reader for Ortho and Idia) having (a possible) brother.

(Ignore it if you don't want to write it)

Have a good day.

characters: ace, deuce, the shroud brothers and trein x male ignihyde reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines + scenario format; implication of yuu, mention of azul

warnings: nothing

author's notes: sorry this took a while! and that i strayed a bit again help. hope you like this <3

You’re one of the only beastmen in Ignihyde - and you’re okay with that. It gets a little lonely at times but that’s nothing new for an Ignihyde student. People mind their own business, you mind yours. And the only friends you have, in this case the Shroud brothers, basically forget that you’re different from the others. Days are hardly interesting, despite the college’s many atrocities - or maybe because, and now you’re desensitized.

Until one day, you spot a creature, all feline-like and sitting on someone’s shoulder. Okay, not the weirdest thing you’ve seen at NRC so far, so you’re about to shrug it off. Then you see it; a tail and a pair of ears that are eerily similar to your own. What’s next, it can manipulate fire as freely as you do?

“Hey guys, I’ve got a new trick up my sleeve. Watch this!”

One thing you didn’t expect for it to have something in common with you is that it can talk. Though maybe you should be less surprised, considering even the paintings on the walls can talk in this place. But still. You forget that you should be expecting something from the words it just spouted and are caught off guard when it starts spewing fire next. This creature is way too talented at throwing out stuff from its mouth, you think as you jump out of the way just in time to avoid being burnt to a crisp.

“Grim, you can’t just spit fire whenever you want to! We’ve been over this!”

A redheaded student in front of you starts to scold the creature whose name is Grim apparently. He looks familiar but you can’t quite put your finger on it-

“You’re just jealous, Ace.”

Oh, you feel like Idia’s talked about this Ace person before. He described him as “crafty” and seemed to think of him as some sneaky extrovert but you’ve learnt to not put much faith in Idia’s descriptions of other people. No offense to your friend but at least he’s somewhat self-aware of how anxious he gets around others.

“I definitely am not??? This is the same thing that almost got us expelled, you know!”

You feel like you may also have heard of a group of first years almost getting expelled until they somehow got their hands on a magestone the headmage told them to get, as if you can just swing by a store and buy one. You know how hopeless Headmage Crowley and dumping a lot of work on a bunch of freshmen is in character but you can't help but feel disappointed anyway.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree. You really have to learn how to keep your pride in check…”

Another student, blue-haired and you assume is Ace’s friend, chimes in on the scolding. The student whose shoulder Grim has made himself at home only shook their head, most likely accustomed to his behavior. You watch them bicker as you ruminate on the resemblance of that strange creature to you.

After a few minutes of thinking (and walking so that you don't lose them), you decide that the fact that you were almost a victim of Grim’s flames is strong enough of an excuse to allow you to approach the friend group.

“Hey. You four.”

They turn around to notice you finally (though you can hardly blame them – save for Idia and his glow-in-the-dark-esque hair, Ignihyde students are not noticed as much). It takes them a second to realize that you're no ordinary student. When they do, their jaws fall open, letting out a wild “Huh?!”.

Grim himself jumps off the quiet student's shoulder and stands on his two feet. The day is getting crazier and crazier the longer you entertain this coincidence. He then points at you and begins his bullshit-spewing again.

“W-Who are you?! And why do you look like me?!”

You should be asking the same questions right now but the lack of answers for them makes any word on the tip of your tongue die before they can escape. Plus, the way he's saying his words sound more accusatory than you’d like to admit.

“Don’t look at me! I'm just like this!”

Grim doesn't seem satisfied by your answer and honestly, you can't blame him. You both are quite confused by what's happening at the moment. You two resort to unconsciously recreating the two-Spidermen-pointing-at-each-other meme. The other three students also seem to be at a loss from what they're witnessing.

Ace Trappola

He would laugh at Grim and point out how he's not special anymore but he's too stunned to even say anything (at least for now)

He looks you up and down again then pinches himself to make sure he’s not hallucinating

He feels like he should be less surprised and that the uncanny resemblance could just be passed off as a coincidence but he has to admit, seeing you two as not brothers may prove to be a little difficult for him

He gets used to you two over time and stops questioning it altogether. Sometimes he even forgets

At times, he’d poke fun at Grim and say how you two are way too different personality-wise to even be correlated in some way

But deep down, he’s happy for Grim he found someone similar to him

He won’t say that aloud obviously.

Deuce Spade

His eyes dart from you to Grim then you again. This goes on for a minute

He almost asks you if you can also breathe fire so recklessly

He ends up interrogating you, like a parent doing a background check on the friend you just brought home

Sooner or later, he concludes that you two are “bros”, despite not having the same feline characteristics

He’s glad Grim found his long-lost brother (he gets a smack from Grim for this)

He would notice how Grim’s smiles oftentimes are wider when you’re around, probably feeling some kind of kinship with you

And he gets that - since you all are “bros” now, he’s more than willing to have your backs now

After sorting things out with the freshmen, you return to your cave like the nerd that you are, feeling more exhausted than usual. To your surprise, you also return to two nerds being in said cave. A Shroud brothers ambush is not something that happens too often.

“Hey (Y/N). We decided that your place needs trashing. Also Ortho wants to try out this new game he found but it needs at least three players.”

Sounds about right. The geeks are geeking out as usual, just at your place this time. But you need them to hear about how crazy today was. You open your mouth to say something-

“I tried to convince him to get Azul but you know how stubborn my brother is.”

Ortho cuts you off and you force a nervous chuckle as a response. You agree but you should really get this off your chest-

“Hm? Did you guys hear something~?”

Idia teases and it brings a genuine laugh out of you and Ortho. Then you take a deep breath and release it. Third time’s the charm, right? You try again.

“Listen, you two. You wouldn’t believe what happened today.”

They perk right up at the promise of gossip (specifically, gossip related to you). You jump a bit from the excitement, finally glad you got their attention. Your hands start to gesture while you tell today’s story.

“I found this… cat. His name is Grim? He has the exact same ears and tail that I do! And he can breathe fire too! Except he does it with no regards to his surroundings whatsoever. That’s kinda concerning.”

Idia Shroud

“You saw wittle Gwimmy??? Man, I’m so jealous… I’ve been in need of some cat therapy for a while now…”

By the sound of it, he already knows who he is. You gasp dramatically at this, feeling betrayed at the fact he never told you about him

He tells you to chill and simply excuse that he didn’t think it was that important or anything

Of course, at first he was shocked but then he pondered about the coincidence - concluded that weirder things have happened and can happen

You’re unamused by this but it is very Idia. You suppose if you have a curse where it burns blot in your body nothing can really be seen as weird

Still, he entertains the possibility of you having a non-human distant cousin

If he isn’t already so nerdy, it feels like he’s growing a second brain trying to theorize what your relation to Grim is…

Ortho Shroud

Also already knows who he is. This truly is a Shroud brothers ambush… of betrayal at that

Theatrics aside, you try to pry him for further information and maybe explain how you and Grim may be related

“Sorry (Y/N), I’d love to help but Grim has been avoiding both of us for a while now. Whether that’s intentional or not, I’m not sure, but I sure wish I was with you when you ran into him. I’m sure I could’ve gotten some valuable information from him!”

You have your doubts about that.

While you keep things to yourself, Ortho provides you with Grim’s surface level information - which is basically nothing

So you two vow to get closer to Grim; even with the ulterior motive, it doesn’t hurt to have more friends Idia would beg to differ

Grim-like traits aside, it’ll be eye-opening to him to see if you two are similar in any regard at all - whether it be from your healing presence to your dazzling smile.

The next morning, you walk to your first class of the day: History of Magic. A fairly interesting class regardless of your stance on the subject. Professor Trein goes on and on about something, you write things down in your notebook. Your eyes are on Lucius for half of the class too. Your mind is still stuck on the events of yesterday. You feel like you’d be reminded of Grim any time you lay your eyes on anything feline - including yourself.

At last, class is dismissed. As much as you enjoy the class and genuinely like Professor Trein, you can’t help but feel that classes are dragged out way too much in this college. You pack up your things and you leave around the same time the professor does. So when Grim comes running and tackles you to the hallway floor, he’s there to witness it all.

“Hey twin! Wanna have lunch with us later? You’ll be seating with us cool kids!”

As you try to regain your composure over being literally knocked over and the fact that Grim has already warmed up to you, Professor Trein attempts to comprehend the scene unfolding before him.

Mozus Trein

Yes, of course he needs to scold Grim over misbehaving for the umpteenth time that week, but he’s also in awe of how… similar you and Grim look.

If he’s seen either of you before, whether in vicinity of each other or not, he’s never noticed blame it on the old grandpa eyes

People (and creatures now too, accounting for Grim’s being here) of your traits and abilities are far and few between

As much as he’d like to inquire you two on your ancestries (and their possible connection), he does respect your privacy

He always liked having you in his class but now, he finds himself looking out for you more often, a way to put his energy from his curiosity about you into something else

He’d ask you about your day and jokingly ask how your relationship with your long-lost brother is doing as if he’s not acting like a dad himself

Needless to say, he’s definitely your favorite teacher now.

You accept Grim’s offer for whatever reason and have lunch with the “cool kids”. You feel a little out of place at first, hanging out with people who aren’t the Shrouds, but then you start having lunch with them every other day. Then you start visiting Ramshackle Dorm where Grim is staying and spend time with the others there. At some point, you brought the Shrouds along and they would bring their games.

Suddenly, you know a lot of people. You think to yourself how crazy friendships start. You go from not knowing their name to knowing what they named their pet rock when they were a child. And in Grim’s case, you went from pointing at each other confusingly to pointing at each other for stealing each other’s food.

For the record, he definitely stole your pudding first.

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