Chapter Text
I want to play a game.
Your ad was a simple one. In a haze of desperate times, desperate measures, at three in the morning when such decisions should not be made, you posted it. You read the ad through parted fingers. If your face got any hotter, you could cook an egg on it.
I am seeking a friend or friends with benefits, who would both enjoy ordinary friend-type things and exploring my kinks. Preferably an existing friends group who doesn’t mind sharing. If interested, send via email your favorite book. What follows will be a series of questions to determine compatibility. Good luck~!
You closed your fingers over your eyes, groaning into them. What the FUCK were you thinking?
Your email hadn’t stopped blowing up since you got up for the day. The responses ranged between a simple “Hey” and elaborate detailed descriptions of exactly what the man in question would do to you. A few had even followed the directions - surprise, surprise - giving you the titles of books as far-flung as the Bible (WTF) and Pride and Prejudice.
You left the ad up for now. The relays wouldn’t work if you deleted it. You debated whether to just ignore the responses, or to delete them. After all, a drunken ad at three in the morning was no basis for a friendship.
Then again… you glanced at your phone. Your best friend Ana had found her boyfriend online, on an adult sex website not much different from the wanted ad you’d posted. She was happy, about to get married after three years with him.
Before you did anything rash, you texted her, asking if you could talk. Her answer was calling you. She always did that any time you were particularly vague.
“I might have done something stupid,” you admitted, still covering your face with one hand. “How many drinks did I have last night?”
“I lost count at your twelfth shot,” she deadpanned. “What’d you do this time?”
You cringed. “I might have made a FWB post asking friend groups to play a dirty game with me.”
Her laughter was so loud you had to drag the phone from your face. Through it all, she found her voice, still trying not to giggle. “Y/N, I know you’re poly, but getting invited into an existing friends group like that isn’t likely.”
You groan. “I know. A girl can dream, though, can’t she?”
“Well, only one way to find out.” Ana’s voice was wicked over the phone. “See who answered the ad.”
You blushed, staring at the emails on the screen. “A lot, actually.”
“Who followed directions, though?” she asked. “Who actually gave you a book title that isn’t a fucking dirty ass joke?”
You scrolled through the emails. “Honestly, a fair number.”
“Get cracking, girl,” Ana cackled. “I wanna see how this ends.”
“Thanks,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your throat like honey.
“No, seriously. I do want to see if you caught anybody’s eye. Maybe you’ll find at least a fuck toy for a bit.”
“Ana!”
“What? It’s the truth.”
You grinned. “Fine. I’ll sift through what I’ve got.”
“Let me know. Also, screenshots. This oughta be good.”
You sighed. “All right, I’ll send anything that’s funny. Talk to you later.”
The line ended abruptly. Ana wasn’t one for long endings.
Turning to your computer, you started by first deleting any email that didn’t follow the simple direction, and then the ones who gave the Bible. The last thing you needed was a fuck boi like that. There was still about twenty or so responses.
You got to reading the responses. One in particular caught your eye.
I don’t have much time for leisure reading anymore, but I enjoyed telling my siblings stories about dragons as a kid. So likely The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings. Why are you playing this game? Couldn’t you just go to a bar and find someone to play with for a few hours?
You scowled. You’d made the game because in the wee hours of a drunken night, that was actually the last thing that you wanted. Yet another drunken one night stand, with zero emotional attachment.
You didn’t want one night stands. You wanted connections.
And you weren’t going to get it like Ana did. You’d learned that a long time ago.
You responded to the twenty or so emails that actually piqued your interest, leaving that one for last. For some reason, it had struck a chord within you, making you mad.
When you did reach that one, you paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Did you actually want to play the game or not? I’m not looking for one night stands, that’s why I emphasized the friends part. If you’re up for the game, here’s the next questions: What’s the one red flag you always skip?
Satisfied, you continued to answer more emails or delete ones who couldn’t follow directions. You had the day off with nothing ahead of you, not even needing to clean house. This little project of yours was perfect for the weekend ahead.
A few had actually responded back this time. You opened the first few. Catching feelings. You’re fat and ugly. You’re a dude pretending to be a woman. Stupid answers, ones that made you frown and consider stopping the game entirely.
And then you see the response from the one who talked about his siblings and dragons.
Yes, I think I will play your little game. My friends and I could use the distraction. Red flag? Jealousy. But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem with a girl who wants multiple men at the crook of her finger.
You smile to yourself. This might actually end up being fun.
Halfway across the city, still not quite believing what was happening, Christopher Bang Chan waited with bated breath for the responding email. He had forwarded the ad to Changbin, though the other man was still fast asleep, Chan was relatively sure that at minimum Changbin and Han would be up for it. Maybe the others.
When the response email came, his grin widened.
I don’t get jealous of men I can have. I won’t be a woman who breaks up friends, though, so you best be damned sure your friends are up for it. How many are we discussing? Third question: Who comes first, me or y’all?
Chan flexed his fingers into a stretch, a smirk crossing his lips. If this went anywhere, it’d be one hell of a ride. He was looking forward to the idea.