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lovestuckyhatemarvel · 9 months

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Okay so, here we are with season 4 episode 1 of Stranger Things. But before I get into the episode, I need to explain something: I’ve never actually watched this season before. I have, however, watched Steddie compilations on YouTube. Regardless, I’m labeling this as a ‘rewatch’ because it’ll keep the series consistent. And parts of it technically are a rewatch. Anyway, these are also going to be way longer than usual because a lot more is just Brand New™️ to me. Although some I haven’t seen but do know because of fanfiction.

1.) I literally can’t remember what made the Texas shooting something that would be necessary to be mentioned at the beginning when America has shootings all the time.

Edit: I have been reminded of the actual case it’s referencing. But I think Texas shooting is going to become less and less of an obvious connection as time goes on, especially for people who aren’t in America. I am in America, and there’s just…too many shootings to keep track of, tbh.

2.) I don’t know why I’m watching this recap. I literally watched season 3 last week or whatever but they really cut out the Russian interrogation/secret base locating stuff entirely from their recap.

3.) season 4 really starts out by being like, “Remember Brenner? Remember that douchebag? Well, guess what. He’s actually super boring in everyday life.”

4.) 010 come on down to get your psychic powers tested and your ability to interpret Brenner’s bad drawings tested. Oh nvm at least now they’re trying to locate people only to witness both Six and Dr. Ellis’ death.

5.) Wait why did Brenner survive this? How did Brenner survive this? Ten is dead. Also, since when does Brenner care about the kids? It’s not like he’s treated them well.

6.) El looking really crazy covered in blood and basically hyperventilating.

7.) El’s got her own room. Also, we’ve gone 185 days since season 3 and now El is painting little figures. And is giving a recap via letter. Joyce is a telemarketer, Will is gay pining, Jonathan has a broken car and is a stoner. Argyle has a pizza van and takes them to school. The bullies in school are cliches.

8.) Nancy drives Mike to school and Karen Wheeler looks great. Also they want Mike home by 9 pm because of his 6:30 flight.

9.) Suzie is editing a D- to an A for Dustin.

10.) I love this conversation about crushes between Robin and Steve. Boobies. Although I don’t like Robin’s hair as much this season.

11.) Max rides the bus and missed a Thursday meeting so needs to go after lunch.

12.) oh there’s Chrissy. And here’s the marching band with Robin playing the TRUMPET. Looks like Vickie’s a clarinet player. Jason and Lucas on the basketball team while Dustin and Mike argue about girlfriends in the crowd.

13.) I know it’s way too early since Jason hasn’t done anything yet, but I already hate him. He just has a punchable face. “Think about all these dead people DID THEY DIE FOR US TO LOSE AT BASKETBALL?” I would have keyed his car in high school. Like oh my god.

14.) Mike and Dustin are nerds and freaks and proud of it. To be fair, Lucas always has been cooler than them. But also Lucas should have gone to Eddie himself.

15.) PACKAGE. FROM. RUSSIA. Man, do not ever send anything delicate to Joyce, she fucking demolishes packages. Oh, that’s an ugly doll. I’ve read about the doll but didn’t know it was that ugly.

16.) El/Jane has to go after a blonde girl talking about Helen Keller for her presentation about Hopper? That’s rough, buddy. Angela is a bitch and I hate her Ariana Grande looking ass. Will is trying and I love that him and El are siblings but yeah, no, that presentation went badly.

17.) Max is doing her loner thing but does get to see Chrissy being upset in the hall as she heads away from the counselor.

18.) C in English and C- in Spanish. It’s not normal for Max but babe, C’s get degrees. You’ll be okay. Max’s mom is drinking, working two jobs, and stepdad is gone. Max is still my favorite even if she is a liar. Lucas’ advice about finding something she cares about is technically good but poor wording and timing. Max isn’t really open for help.

19.) Stranger Things really loves shots of people in bathrooms holding the sides of the sink. Also we get to hear Chrissy vomiting.

20.) Chrissy’s hallucinating. She has issues with her mom being awful about her weight and honestly, mood.

21.) Oh hi, Eddie. You’re a goofy guy. And now Eddie walks across the table. Also honestly, so far the bullying in Hawkins is like, minimal. All that happened in that scene is Eddie got called a freak. Dustin and Mike do try to get the game postponed. I still think Lucas should have asked. Eddie’s got to pass Mrs. O’Donnell’s class and that’s it to pass the class. Eddie really does yank both those dweebs out of their seats with barely any effort.

22.) Murray has karate from 1-3 on Fridays? Good for him. Oh and the doll from Russia has nipples. Teeny tiny nipples. And now needs to be smashed.

23.) Everyone thinks it’s weird that Nancy and Jonathan aren’t spending spring break together. I still think Nancy’s a comphet case. I love that Mike asks Nancy and Dustin asks Steve. Max is sarcastic to Dustin’s request which is very funny. Literally everyone shoots them down. Dustin comes up with an idea nad sprints off faster than I knew was possible.

24.) Oh it’s the picnic table behind the school scene. And we hear and see a clock chiming as she waits for Eddie. I’ve never actually seen the build up to the meeting with Eddie. Did not know the clock breaks and spills spiders.

25.) Eddie is tempted to leave ‘cause Chrissy is acting crazy. Eddie is very dramatic and they were in a talent show together. Eddie used to have buzzed hair and now plays at the Hideout on Tuesdays. I would have loved for Chrissy to live and for these two to be another Steve and Robin. Chrissy asks for something stronger.

26.) El failed a math test, I think? And if that’s the test she failed, it’s extra sad because that’s what she called herself good at in the opening letter. And then Angela tripped her? And her stupid friends stomp on her project. I wanna kick Angela’s ass. El forgets that she doesn’t have powers and it’s so embarrassing. El doesn’t snitch but a teacher takes Angela away anyway.

27.) Will feels so bad and is trying so hard to help.

28.) I feel like it wouldn’t require a paint can from a tree to break a porcelain doll. Oh, Murray thinks it might have an explosive. AND IT’S FILLED WITH A NOTE SAYING HOP IS ALIVE AND IT’S WRITTEN IN CUT OUT LETTERS LIKE IT’S FROM A SERIAL KILLER. WHY DID THEY DO THAT??? LMAO

29.) And now it’s the championship. I feel like fanfics stretch episode 1 into like, 3 chapters. Steve came with his date to see Lucas. And here’s Tammy Thompson. And she’s…bad. this bad performance is worth it for Steve’s sassy expressions.

30.) Oh, hey Erica Sinclair. LMAO WAIT, IS SHE WEARING AN AMERICAN FLAG? GOD, YOU DWEEB. I will say that the rest of hellfire that just kind of chortles in response to everything is so far just background noise that I do not care about. I do love that Erica is way better at insults than Eddie and he kind of adores her.

31.) I still hate Jason.

32.) Technically if we’re going with the lore of we thought Vecna was killed by Kas then technically El/Jane is this show’s Kas.

33.) Okay going back and forth is too hard when they’re going back this fast between basketball and Hellfire so I’ll just summarize at the end. Lucas going in and the gameplay mirror each other very obviously. It’s an old trope but a good one. Eddie’s unhinged.

34.) “There is no shame in running. Don’t be heroes.”

35.) Dustin misses and so does Jason. But Lucas and Erica both win. This slow mo is kind of excessive. Eddie’s fucking thrilled that Erica did a critical success. Although did they actually need a natural 20 to win? That doesn’t really make sense if the guy only has 15 HP left. Presumably they haven’t been critting to attack this fucking thing this entire session. So really it’s a matter of going above his AC. And technically you don’t need a nat 20 to do that, especially if you have enough bonuses. Although they are playing a different version of D&D than I’ve ever played so maybe I’m taking out of my ass.

36.) Aw, Max listened to the game’s result on the radio. I thought she went. Her mom is passed out on the couch. Max takes food to a dog. Eddie lives like, directly across from her. For some reason, from fanfics, I thought they were like, directly next to each other. Still, Max saw Chrissy go into his trailer.

37.) Wayne works nights. Eddie does not know where his ketamine is. Should keep track of that. That is a very cool guitar he has though. Chrissy’s hallucinations are very bad now and she’s no longer responsive. And now the lights are flickering. Vecna’s ugly as hell. There are so many spiders in this vision. Eddie really is trying to wake her up but I’m not sure how he thought I DON’T LIKE THIS, CHRISSY, WAKE UP would help.

38.) did not know we see Vecna in episode 1. “It’s time for your suffering to end.” Don’t be weird, dude. And now Chrissy is floating. Her death is like, both weirdly graphic and also sanitized. Like it looks cartoonish. I didn’t realize how cartoonish it looks. Bones don’t break through the skin. There’s barely any blood. Her skin moves like putty.

#stranger things #stranger things rewatch #season 4 episode 1 #s4e1 #stranger things s4e1 #only kind of a rewatch #I’ve seen steddie compilations and that’s it

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diovstheworld · 2 years

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Random La Squadra HCs (#1?)

just some things that come to mind about the guys that don’t fit into any other post 😭 sorry prosciutto and formaggio have so much more than the others omg. i would keep typing these but this has literally been in my drafts for months and i’m sick of looking at it 💀 i keep adding and if i don’t post now i never will (minor mentions of drugs and alcohol and slight swearing)

୨ ╭ ୨୧ ✦ ︶꒷꒦・⎯⎯・⎯⎯・₊ˎ✧๑

Risotto:

loves rain, specifically the sound of rain on the roof. he loves to just sit in silence (which is a rare occurrence) and listen to the sweet sounds of the rain pattering against the slate above

after a long day of hard work, risotto loves nothing more than relaxing with a cup of hot chocolate, headphones on, maybe even reading a book or the days newspaper

this guy has a shit ton of piercings and definitely has a few tattoos too

his guilty pleasure is watching soap operas. normally watches them with prosciutto while doing a face mask (prosciutto forced him into it but risotto loves it)

Ghiaccio:

loves nutella on his toast. literally the only thing he will have on his toast. he absolutely loves the stuff

honestly i think he actually would just have a really big sweet tooth

big fan of iced coffee. don’t know where this headcanon came from but it’s stuck in my brain now

massive gamer. also into comic books and figurines and stuff like I mentioned in a previous post

probably had braces when he was younger

if he does want a hot drink, he enjoys a nice cup of warm milk

Illuso:

huge astrology bitch. literally won’t shut up about it. i can definitely see him saying things like ‘that’s such a scorpio thing to do’, ‘you’re acting like such a virgo’, ‘let me guess, you’re a pisces?’. he will analyse the crap out of you once he learns your star sign etc.

loves crystals too. has a massive collection of them (i’ve kind of mentioned this headcanon before but i love it too much). often keeps a crystal in his pocket and it also often changes. normally brings a crystal that is good for luck and is 100% convinced this crystal is what makes him so good at what he does. he probably messed up once on a job when he didn’t have the crystal on him (which was totally just a coincidence) and now he doesn’t leave without one in his pocket.

also i think he deep down has a lot of insecurities and anxieties which he masks with the cocky attitude

loves cosy things like soft blankets and fluffy pyjamas <3

really good at drawing and painting

also really good at singing and playing guitar tbh

Prosciutto:

i think he would smoke (i’m a big fan of this headcanon honestly) but not just cigarettes. i could definitely see him smoking weed and having been a bit of a stoner kid back in his younger days.

mum friend of the group. honestly i think i didn’t have to say this one because i feel like a lot of people think this. constantly giving advice and pep talks even though no one asked for it lmao

favourite alcoholic drinks are red wine, espresso martinis and whiskey

favourite non-alcoholic drink is coffee for sure. the man is convinced he can’t function without a cigarette and a coffee in the morning

favourite fashion brands are gucci and prada! though he just is a big fan of fashion in general

i gave ghiaccio a breakfast preference and i have one for prosciutto too lmao. i think he would eat the thickest porridge. no one in the team can understand why he enjoys it this way and he never elaborates

i said this in a previous post but he’s definitely a big vinyl lover. loves the little crackling noise in between each track. it brings him a sense of comfort

a clean freak and a perfectionist. this applies to all parts of his life including his room and his looks

i think i’ve also said this but he definitely runs a fashion blog in his free time lmao

Formaggio:

another one who i definitely does drugs (definitely would do more than just weed in my opinion lmao)

i feel like he would be a pretty sporty guy and would like playing stuff like football and basketball (i’ve said this before whoops)

the joker of the group for sure. probably the kind of guy who can’t read the room and doesn’t know when a joke is appropriate or not

also the kind of guy who wishes he wasn’t always just seen as the silly goofy friend. my guy wants a break every now and then from the joker personality!

another guy who enjoys video games. and is actually very good at them

i know he shoved his cat in a bottle and all but i think he actually loves his cat a lot. probably prefers his cat over people half the time lmao

also, he would totally have freckles

this guy would do anything if you dare him to lmao

also loves telling dirty jokes

Melone:

the king of dirty jokes tbh. i feel like ghiaccio would get so annoyed lmao. but illuso and formaggio would crack up at them, they find them hilarious

a massive gamer! loves video games and loves playing them with ghiaccio

also a big movie enjoyer. invite him along to see any movie and he’ll be down!

and also a big fan of musicals. he loves to sing along to all the songs

speaking of which, he would also be a good singer just like illuso. and he would be the kind of person who knows the words to a song after listening to it once lmao

got the whole gang into ru paul’s drag race and they always watch it together. melone and illuso are normally critiquing all the contestants lmao

Pesci:

i think he would have quite a few food allergies (not dairy though, my boy loves his milk). but i think the other guys would be very considerate of this (probably because prosciutto warned them within an inch of their life to do so) and they always make food he can eat. on the odd occasion they don’t, they make sure there’s no cross contamination!

scared of thunderstorms. if there’s ever a thunderstorm, you better be protecting this boy. he hates the loud noises of the thunder so he’s normally seen wearing headphones or something to block out the noise

massive animal lover! big fan of formaggio’s cat, can normally be seen giving the cat some sneaky treats here and there

another warm milk enjoyer

slime videos are his guilty pleasure

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rattlerinthewheel · 3 years

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Fruit Bat: Scud/Reader

He should know better than to irritate the vampire that’s already pissed, wounded, and starving—so you teach him.

For the Kinky Things Happen bingo square: vampires and discipline, at @pandoratriestowritestuff’s request for some Scud. Credit to them and @phoenixblack89, who talked about Scud getting spanked and choking on a donut, for the respective scenes.

- - -

You’re still pissed at him.

But it’s hard to give him the silent treatment when you need to get at the junk around the tables. Move, pass me that wrench, throw me that wire, is dry and distant, work-related; but turn that shit down, quit spewing crumbs, stop grabbing me, and other growls that aren’t related to the tech you’re fiddling with get read as some sign—to keep doing those things, but that’s sure not what your glares should be saying.

Well, it isn’t a surprise that he’s being a dumbass about it. A moron about a lot of shit, lately, the bandage on your arm can vouch for that. And it was an accident, sure, you wouldn’t usually blame him for aiming that UV flashlight at anything that swarmed at him on a job; but he’d been high and you’d called out a warning, dammit, and he still got you with it. Burned like a motherfucker, like acid.

His apology was huffed, high-sluggish, and rank like the shitty weed he’d been toking.

Maybe he’s realizing you’re really pissed, content with just your hand as company for a few days, because you haven’t taken a break even once from this group project—a net of UV panels you can drape over the van; they stay off for now, obviously—to get your hands down his pants, or his down yours.

But Josh—Scud’s dumb, and it pisses him off to be called Josh, so of course that’s what you call him—is definitely high, not as sharp as he’d otherwise be, and his logic is coming from his dick today. His brain would be screaming at him to not agitate the vampire that’s wounded and pissed.

He’s prodded at you the whole damn night so far, brushing your groin to grab a tool there’s fifteen more of scattered around that he can get to, angling his head in a way that makes the churning veins under too damn tempting, flat-out groping your ass when his first two tactics don’t get him anything more than warning hisses.

Except when he decides he doesn’t like a particular hiss you give, too much teeth for his liking, because when his hand drops from where it’s gotten in a squeeze it claps right back down across the ass cheek it grabbed. Fucking hard, too; "make peace, not war" your ass.

You whirl where he’s scrambling back to his side of the room, giggling, hands raised with his palms out like he can call a truce. Like he hasn’t been doing this shit all night and your hisses and menaced fangs are supposed to be equals, or something.

Well, they aren’t. And you feel like cashing in some payback.

"C’mon, baby, lighten up!" trails his getaway while you give chase. You don’t run after him, but Josh stumbles and darts around like you are. It’s one of the oldest hunting tactics, just following, while the prey tires itself out trying to get away. Vampires don’t need to use it, you could just as easily catch up, even with a bandaged arm.

But Josh wants to goddamn play, so you’ll follow suit. For now.

Smoker’s lungs, stoner’s, don’t let him keep it up as long as a guy his age could. Josh staggers, stumbles a last time like his clothes weigh fifty pounds, and drops on the steps up to another part of the workshop. By his couch and TV, the little nest he’s made for himself, and you don’t think that’s accidental; but you don’t plan to move things to that shitty couch, not anytime soon.

You walk right up to him, and Josh goddamn grins, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs like he’s offering himself up like a damn meal. He’s still got one of those shitty donuts, and he takes a bite, still grinning, and flicks a crumb at your leg.

"You’re a child," you growl, getting a whiff of syrup lactic acids, probably burning his calves like battery; iron thumped in and out of his heart, jumping in his throat, flushing his face; that damn weed turning everything earthy, chalky like loam, but still good.

"I’m a delight," spews more crumbs with another giggle. "Besides, baby, you love it."

You do—when you aren’t pissed at him. "Love to kick your ass," you huff, toeing the step by his foot.

His hum makes you swallow. Fucking thirsty, you are, and that’s just the worst kind of trifecta for Josh to be near right now: starved, pissed, and wounded. Your nerves are shot, and his chase didn’t tire you, but it sure as shit reminded you of what hunts are supposed to take care of. And his hum, that sounds vaguely like a dying, helpless churr from a punctured throat...

Shit.

But the hum bubbles into a chuckle, as you’re stepping away to beat it and get back to work—so Blade doesn’t have you to stake and Josh to mend, or a drained corpse to bury—when you get a lazy kick to your calf and a teasing, "The little fruit bat running away? Afraid I’ll smack him again?"

You’re starving, agitated, and your arm throbs. It’s not a nickname you hate, but it sets off something.

You stop, turn back slowly, and flick your eyes to either side to make sure you won’t be skewered by stray junk out of place. All clear, so you skulk up, schooling your face into a careful, bland look that puts Josh on edge more than a scowl.

"Ain’t my ass about to get smacked, boy," is throttled with a snap of fangs and a low pounce, and Josh can only drop the fucking donut and yelp as you tackle him.

He gets a bit of ground, because his hand clamps right down on the bandages, making you bark at the bolt of pain. It’s been longer since your last drink than you admitted to Blade, before he left, and that doesn’t help. But Blade would’ve had you come with, otherwise, and you figured dealing with Josh was worth getting the panels for the van closer to field testing.

Because as much as you want to skitter up the wall and drop Josh from the rafters, most days, you don’t want to get back to the van and find a drained, stoner-sized juice box.

So it’s a little ironic that he’s sprawled over your legs, when the scuffle’s over. It’s not what you intended—to pin him to his stomach, straddle, and give a few smacks before letting him go—but you sort yourselves out. First Josh, and you wrap an arm over his waist to keep him down; then yourself, and you sit up properly so his ass is right where you want it.

These days, child rearing isn’t what you were accustomed to, and Josh doesn’t figure it out until he feels your hand settle across the seat of his cargo pants. "No fuckin’ way," is half telling, half laughing, and the weed probably has something to do with that second part.

Because the first part’s not amused, but just in case he doesn’t get it across that he’s not thrilled to be pinned this way, Josh starts trying to buck off your lap.

"Yes fucking way," you hiss, and your hand cracks down over his right cheek.

It’s loud, even for his human hearing, and goes off like a shotgun blast. Josh twists his head back, huffing. The scowl he tries to give doesn’t have the kind of impact he hopes for, when it twitches at the second swat you land, right over the same spot. Harder than the first, because you won’t have him scowling at you, goddamn brat.

"Hope you know how to sleep with one eye open," cracks when you get a handful of flesh, quieter when he hangs his head. The pants are thin, and you feel the warmth from the swats, hell, hear the blood fizz under the surface. "Get you back for this."

You frown, not at the threat, but another rush of blood you hear. Feel, even better, in your lap.

You growl and throw a withering look his way, because fucking seriously? "You gettin’ hardover this?"

You hear the bones grind, Josh gritting his teeth, when you give the spot you’ve hit twice now a slow rub. Christ, he is, and he’s halfway there by the time you’ve rubbed enough circles into the warmed skin that you have to strain to hear the fizzing blood. You should’ve guessed he was into this, not like he doesn’t rile you up to pin or chase him anyway, this even makes sense.

The swipe to his left thigh is sudden, vampire speed but not strength because you aren’t that cruel. Your ears perk at the sound it gets, when the crack settles again, but before you can ask if he’s fine you feel his thigh rise up into your hand. You can’t help but scoff, because Christ’s sake, you weren’t trying to get frisky with him—and that ship’s goddamn sailed, because you’re helping him get hard.

You’re getting hard, too, can’t be a hypocrite about that. Josh feels it, pushing up into his side, and when he twists his head back again he’s flushed and his mouth’s open. His eyes are glazed over, brow’s furrowed, you think, but it’s hard to tell with the mop of hair in the way. Dammit,and you get a handful of his shirt in your striking hand to keep him from toppling over, and unwrap the other to push the hair off his face.

You can hear his sigh just fine, but it thrums into your fingers where you keep them pushed into his scalp, warm, damp from work and running from you. "Done already, baby? Maybe we can switch," buzzes up your arm.

Shit. You aren’t excited for that, because if he’s going to get you back he’s damn well working for it. But you can feel him reacting to you, swamping your senses; a whine when your fingers curl in the bangs before combing out, his hips shimmying when your arm loops over again, the muscles of his hide clenching as you drag down his pants and boxers.

That last one gets a sharp breath that’s followed up with a sharper swat. You suck in a gasp yourself and tighten your arm, giving your hard-on friction to grind off of, as you run your fingertips over the barely-pink skin. Warm, hot, without the fabric, and it fizzles louder like damn fireworks, when you drop your palm over the left cheek.

"Baby? Not getting any, uh, urges? Know I look good ‘nough to eat normally, but—"

"Shut up," you snarl, and then you’re smacking him again.

It’s anger at this bullshit, your injury, your arm throbbing as Josh twitches against the hold you just double down on when you start laying down swats quick and hard. He could’ve killed you, and he was too damn high to realize it, to apologize, still hasn’t.

But it’s some twisted fascination, too, watching the barely-pink go hot pink, white in the beat after a blow before it blooms darker, then red. You hear the blood fizz, pop, and simmer with each shade the flesh darkens to. Ass goes slower than the thighs, more meat to them, and that reminds you that there’s something to grab so you do. Not after every swat, just to give you both a breather, and you groan when you peel your hand off each time and a five-fingered print flares white before reddening again.

"Hope you choke on those damn donuts," you groan, throaty, when you realize your aim goes off because Josh is rutting into your damn lap. "Quit moving, lemme."

He goes rigid when you grab a hot thigh and spread him open, shift him right so his cock isn’t snug against your leg, and start to stroke. Cruelly slow, but it’s not like he’s getting out of this without some discipline. But you wouldn’t exactly mind doing this again, either...

"No one’s dead, then?"

Josh yelps and finally does buck off your lap. You let him, falling in a heap with his pants still down to his knees, because you’re too busy cringing back from the circle of UV light pointed at the floor. On concrete, not too close to the steps, but you’ve had enough of that wicked light as it is.

Blade doesn’t look bothered by Josh’s undressed, red ass, or the wet spot he left on your jeans. Neither of you finished, just pre-cum, but you’re not keeping a nose or ear out to scent or hear if Josh does by accident in the scramble. You’ve got something else on your mind, that wicks away the lust and anger and drags hunger up your throat so fast you’re dizzy.

The IV bag’s tossed to you, torn into and drained in the time it takes Blade to fish out another from his bag. You hear the flashlight go off and pounce out onto concrete to burrow into the second one he gives over, then growl for the third you can smell when he doesn’t offer it.

"There a problem?"

Your growl sputters, and Josh must’ve gotten his pants back up because he draws attention to himself now. "All good, B. Just looking for some shit for the panels."

Blade doesn’t ask what shit required Josh’s nose being two inches from the lowest step, or being over your lap while he looked, but you go deaf to what they do talk about when the third bag’s thrown your way. By the time you finish, wiggling the puncture marks over your yawning mouth to get the last drop, Blade’s gone and Josh’s face wrinkles.

"Oh, now you don’t want to bother me?" you purr, all fangs, your arm hardly aching and your throat good and wet.

"Shit, dude, would table manners kill you?"

You purr louder, a chuckle, as Josh turns away and goes to hide on his couch with his TV. Close to dawn, anyway, and it’s better to have two pairs of hands for the panels. At least that’s what Josh will tell Blade, probably, if he asks why he isn’t working on it in the morning when you’re sleeping. You’re betting on Blade either calling him out, saying a sore ass doesn’t mean a day off, or just letting it slide. He’s not stranger to vampire strength, even if it’s never been applied to his ass.

Well, Josh can tell him all about it, and you wipe the blood off your face, purr throttling in a real laugh, as Josh decides to lay down on his stomach while he fumbles with the TV.

"Gonna get you back," he reminds you.

In the dim, barely-lit room, with just some cartoon to flick pale tones over the dark space, you lurk over and crawl up onto the back of the couch, balancing on your side, so you can lick your fingers clean and run them through his hair. You tune out the shitty TV to hone in on his blood, calming down, still sputtering around his warm ass. It’s white noise you lose yourself in, purring at his swears when he shifts and agitates the flesh.

#blade 2 #scud #scud x reader #male reader #vampire reader #prompt request #bingo fill

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years

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Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 12

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 8K

Idol Cameos: ATEEZ Wooyoung, NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin & Yeji.

Genre: Angst, Fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and alcohol consumption.

A full week of radio silence from your end had passed. No matter how many times Yeonjun called or texted, begging you to listen to him; you didn’t give in. In fact, you blocked his number, his Instagram…and his Snapchat.

Soobin had also been avoiding Yeonjun, though they lived together they hadn’t seen each other and Soobin made it no secret that he was actively avoiding any type of contact with Yeonjun, even though Yeonjun had tried to reach out several times.

“Yeonjun…don’t you think you’ve had enough.” Wooyoung says snatching the liquor bottle from a highly intoxicated Yeonjun.

He scoffed, snatching back the bottle of Jack from Wooyoung's grip, taking another sip. The burn of the liquid was nothing compared to the lingering burn of his broken heart, so he didn’t hold back.

“Don’t you think you should mind your own fucking business,” he counters unnecessarily rude as he slouches on Wooyoung’s couch.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes at his friend and he checks his phone, scrolling through his socials to distract himself from the feeling of wanting to punch Yeonjun in the face.

Wooyoung was giving Yeonjun the benefit of the doubt given the vaguely explained circumstances and was acting as his babysitter; even though it was usually the other way around in their friendship.

He was a few swipes in before his orbs landed on the Instagram story of Johnny Suh. His eyes enlarged when he saw you at his party, sitting comfortably on the couch with your legs draped over Johnny’s, looking as happy as ever. Wooyoung looked at Yeonjun through hooded lids as he followed Yeonjun's gaze into nothingness while he took another sip from the bottle.

“Oh…so you don’t want me to tell you where y/n is right now? Or more importantly…who she’s with.”

“What are you on about,” Yeonjun speaks sighing as he rubs his forehead in agony.

“See for yourself.” Wooyoung replies panning the phone to Yeonjun’s line of sight as he replays the video.

Yeonjun’s eyes popped out of his skull as he observed you cozying up to that motherfucker. He snatched the phone from Wooyoung, going back and forth in his stories to try and catch another glimpse of you.

“Oh hell no,” he huffed as he got up from the couch. “I’m going.”

“Where?”

“To Johnny’s, where the fuck else.”

‘Not alone you’re not.” Wooyoung says grabbing his car keys.

When Johnny invited you to one of his iconic parties, you didn’t have to think twice. The best way of getting over Yeonjun was by getting under someone else and that was exactly what you planned to do when you first got here….but god how things took a turn.

You drank…and drank…and drank…and then you might have just accidentally joined the stoners in the garden.

You were drunk, high and high again, and nothing was registering to you anymore other than the fact that you had the munchies, even though you wanted to throw up.

“First time?” Ryujin chuckled as she wrapped her blanket around you to share her warmth.

She took the blunt from you and patted your head in comfort as she passed it to some guy named Jungwoo. You didn’t know how you got so close to her in such a short amount of time, but not having Mia around to cling to made you socialize with people you normally wouldn’t hang with.

“No, but I’ve…never combined the two.”

“Yeah, rule number one, don’t do that unless you’re a veteran,” she states.

“I need to lie down otherwise I’ll hurl," you whine, and you weren't even kidding.

“Oh, shit y/n, let’s go somewhere quiet then, quick.” Ryujin got up and took your hand, leading you to the stairs as quickly as she could in hopes you would stay conscious throughout. Your legs were on automatic pilot, but you also knew it wasn’t going to take long before they would give out on you.

Johnny saw how Ryujin basically dragged you up the stairs and frowned, leaving in the middle of a heated Uno game to check on you. He sprinted up the stairs and hooked his arm around your waist as he put your arm around his neck for support, helping you up the remaining steps.

“Are we okay here?” he asked looking from you to Ryujin. “Uh, she mixed weed with alcohol and is having a bad reaction.” Ryujin snickered.

You couldn’t do anything other than look up at Johnny with googly eyes, giggling at him. Your cute action made him laugh in response and he leads both you and Ryujin to his bedroom without a word.

“She can sleep it off here.” Johnny says as he opens the door to his room, gently placing you on the bed.

Your limbs hit the off switch as your body made contact with the bed. Everything was spinning and all you could do was giggle to yourself, which made Johnny and Ryujin laugh at your antics once again.

Ryujin pulled the covers over you before she sat down on the foot end of Johnny’s bed, she watched him stare at you and sighed.

“Thanks for letting her stay here.”

“Mi casa is Suh casa” Johnny says giving Ryujin and yourself a wink and you scoff. “You didn’t just make that lame joke,” you judge him even in your state and he chuckled, crouching down before you to pet your head.

“How about you sleep off your attitude,” he says with a smirk, and you just stick your tongue out as you snuggle your cheek into the pillow; closing your eyes to doze off.

In the meantime, Yeonjun and Wooyoung had found their way to Johnny’s home. Yeonjun had been ringing the doorbell for the past minute and was slowly losing his sanity while Wooyoung waited patiently beside him.

“Just call someone you know in there. They probably can’t hear because of the music.” Wooyoung tries to explain, but Yeonjun didn’t listen and switched from ringing the doorbell to knocking on the door.

Wooyoung groaned at his stubbornness and just like that the door opened with a dramatic swing, and in the door opening was no one other than Hwang Yeji.

“I thought they came to collect the trash at noon,” she says deadpanning Yeonjun in the eye as soon as her gaze landed on him.

Yeonjun groaned in annoyance and held on to Wooyoung for life support. “Very fucking funny Yeji, your humor is just as dry as your p-…you can finish that sentence yourself. Would you tell me where my girlfriend is?”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened at his mean comment and covered Yeonjun’s mouth with his hand. “He had a lot to drink,” Wooyoung says as Yeonjun takes Woo’s hand from his mouth aggressively.

Yeji ignored Wooyoung’s attempt to salvage the damage and averted her attention back to Yeonjun.

“Girlfriend? Do you mean y/n? The fact that she decided to date you is sad.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’d be salty too if I were you. You don’t have to act as if you weren’t screaming my name a few months ago.”

“Ok, Yeonjun. Seriously, shut up.” Wooyoung pushes Yeonjun past Yeji through the door opening before Yeji would decide to swing at him, pulling him aside below the staircase.

“Dude what the fuck.” Wooyoung says under his breath. Yeonjun just shrugged, grabbing the first freshmen that passed by them by their collar, pulling the poor boy closer so he could ask him about your whereabouts.

“Hey, dwarf. Have you seen a girl with (a description of your physical appearance.) probably shitfaced drunk, possibly accompanied by Johnny Suh.”

The kid was baked as fuck, his eyes were red and hanging low. He just chuckled looking back and forth from Yeonjun to Wooyoung “Dude there was a girl just like that flashing her titties on the patio a minute ago. Maybe the show is still going man, hurry.”

“What now!?” Yeonjun let go of the younger boy and he just waddled off as if nothing happened, leaving him in a more distressed state than ever.

You wouldn’t do that? Right? “That can’t be y/n,” Wooyoung says scratching the back of his head. “Let’s just ask around some more.”

And so they did. They ended up in the garden where the smell of pot filled their nostrils after they skimmed every room on the ground floor, but it was to no avail. They decided to go up the stairs, something Yeonjun wished he didn’t have to do because if you were upstairs that could mean one of two not so great things.

They searched through the halls first and Wooyoung's eyes land on Johnny closing the door behind him in a room down the hall. Wooyoung grabbed Yeonjun by the shoulder, motioning him to look at what he was seeing.

When Yeonjun’s eyes landed on Johnny it took about 0,003 seconds for him to take long strides into his direction. Wooyoung did his best to keep up with Mr long legs, so he had to jog after Yeonjun to keep up as he felt the hairs in his neck rise in anticipation of the inevitable confrontation between two alpha males.

“Hey man, have you seen my girlfriend?” Yeonjun says as he approaches the senior.

“And who might that be?” Johnny says turning around. He wasn’t even a wee-bit surprised that Yeonjun showed up here. He was always wherever you were. Luckily for Johnny he wasn’t interested in having sex with you anymore. The two of you really hit it off as friends, and he didn’t wanna ruin it, but god…Yeonjun did get under his skin a little too much for his liking.

“Don’t act dumb, where’s y/n.”

Johnny sucks his teeth in annoyance and decided to taunt Yeonjun for challenging him like that. “She’s in my bed,” Johnny says as his lips curl up into a smile and before he knew it Yeonjun grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Let go.” Johnny threatens through his teeth, towering over Yeonjun with the few inches of height he had over Yeonjun, but he didn’t budge.

Wooyoung inhales sharply, him being an average of 10 centimeters shorter than the both of them didn’t help with intervening. So he bent his knees to wiggle between them from below, pulling them away from each other.

“Yeonjun’s drunk. Don’t mind him” Wooyoung chuckled nervously, fixing Johnny’s shirt.

Yeonjun was seething at this point. “If you would’ve just let me explain first…god you really need to work on your temper. y/n deserves better than a hothead like you.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Yeonjun replies under his breath as he points his finger in Johnny’s face.

Johnny rolled his eyes in response, stepping aside.

“She’s in there with Ryujin. She got drunk and smoked weed she’s not having the best reaction so she’s asleep right now. She’s fine. Go home.”

“I’m not going anywhere without her.” Yeonjun huffs.

“Well, then you can sleep on the floor cause you’re not taking her anywhere either.” Johnny took a step closer to Yeonjun again with Wooyoung still between them and at this point, Wooyoung didn’t know what else to do other than barge into Johnny’s room to cut the tension

Wooyoung had hoped that if Yeonjun saw you, his anger would subside; so he took the chance of getting punched in the face by Johnny for the greater good.

He barged through the door, startling Ryujin who was facetiming Beomgyu.

“Look she really is asleep, fully clothed. Now, can we leave dude? I think we’ve caused enough trouble.” Wooyoung says in a whisper pointing to your sleeping form.

Ryujin’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the three men in front of her. “Is that Yeonjun hyung?” Gyu’s voice sounded from the speaker and Ryujin quickly apologized to him, ending the phone call after promising to call back later.

Yeonjun softened immediately. He really didn’t know how he would feel when he saw you, but since the last time he saw you was in your apartment that day; he froze.

He couldn’t help but think that the reason you turned to drugs and alcohol to subside the pain was because of him, and suddenly sadness and guilt wash over him once again.

Johnny watched Yeonjun like a hawk, and noticed how his icy demeanor melted at the sight of you. He wasn’t just going to let Yeonjun take you home, you would need to consent to it, even in your state.

Yeonjun crouched down before you, moving a strand of your hair out of your face, completely entranced by you. He forgot the presence of the other people in the room and caressed your cheek with his thumb lightly.

He missed you.

“Y/n…” his voice was clear; he was calling out for you but you had no clue if It was a dream or real life.

You slowly found the strength to open your eyes. You blink a couple of times before your vision went from blurry to…somewhat less blurry, and in a split second, you recognize who’s in front of you by the shape of his lips alone.

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun asked sweetly.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but be dumbfounded at Yeonjun’s sudden change of heart. The stubborn, mean, and aggressive Yeonjun was completely replaced by a soft and loving one in the blink of an eye.

"Bipolar much." he whispered, making Johnny and Ryujin chuckle in response.

Wooyoung gave Johnny a look which he just shrugged at, and Ryujin basically melted thinking that Yeonjun came over to be your knight in shining armor, but you know, she didn’t know the full story.

You forgot you were mad at him because it truly felt like you were dreaming and when Yeonjun asked you if you wanted to go home, you just nodded as you dozed off again.

Well…There’s your consent.

Reluctantly, Johnny let Yeonjun take you with him. He understood he had no place in keeping you here if you really were Yeonjun’s girlfriend, so he complied. Keeping an eye on you as Yeonjun carried you to Wooyoung's car.

“Tell her to text me when she wakes up.” Johnny says with his arms crossed, watching as Yeonjun carefully places you in the backseat.

“Yeah, no.” Yeonjun says as he fastens your seatbelt for you.

Johnny shook his head and went back inside, even though Yeonjun was the biggest dick in Johnny’s eyes; it was evident that he cared about you and that thought alone was the only reason he let Yeonjun take you with him. He knew you'd be safe, and that's all that mattered to him.

Wooyoung got into the drivers’ seat, being the only sober one of the bunch, and waited for Yeonjun to take a seat too.

The drive was rather quiet. Yeonjun kept looking back at you to check if you were okay and Wooyoung noticed as he checked his mirrors.

“You really love her don’t you.” Wooyoung asks looking at his friend.

“I do.”

“I don’t know what you did, and I’m assuming you did something.” Wooyoung says clicking his tongue before he continues. “But fix it.”

“I’m trying.” Yeonjun sighs staring out the window.

“Trying how?” Wooyoung asks checking his mirrors. He noticed a black BMW trailing closely behind them with no one other car on the streets and frowned, but decided to keep his eyes on the road ahead of him.

“I went to therapy yesterday.”

“Therapy?”

“Yeah…”

“Well…seeing you tonight you clearly need some extra sessions.”

Yeonjun’s head snapped into Wooyoung direction but when he noticed the playful look in his eyes all he could do was laugh with him.

Wooyoung checked his mirrors after he took a left to your house and noticed how the black BMW was still trailing behind him. His smile faltered and he nudged Yeonjun.

“Dude…I think we’re being followed…” Wooyoung says nodding to his rear-view mirror.

“What?” Yeonjun asks as he looks in the mirror, followed by a look over his shoulder.

“Am I the drunk one, or are you?” Yeonjun chuckles relaxing in his seat.

Wooyoung shrugged, deciding to let it go, and just as he was about to turn the corner to your apartment building, the black BMW took the opposite turn, making Wooyoung relax in his seat again.

Yeonjun kept staring at you in the reflection of the window. He didn’t know how you would react the next morning so he decided he wouldn’t stick around to find out.

After he carried you inside of your apartment, he set you down on your bed with the help of Wooyoung opening every door for him. Being in here felt different than before. Your house was messier than usual, and it wasn't like he could just crawl in bed next to you to hold you as you slept off your intoxicated state.

He changed you into clean clothes and even got rid of your false eyelashes for you. You were still asleep but you did whine a few times before he was able to tuck you in. He sighed, kissing your forehead, and wrote you a small note. Leaving it on your bedside table before he went back to the living room, seeing Wooyoung patiently wait for him so the two of them could leave.

“Thanks for waiting and putting up with me all night.” Yeonjun smiled apologetically as he held out his hand.

Wooyoung took a hold of his hand as Yeonjun helped him get up from the couch, and he snickered.

“Ah don’t mention it. We’re even now.” Wooyoung says with a wink.

“For what?” Yeonjun asks raising his eyebrow.

“For kissing her, remember.” Wooyoung says as he made his way to your front door.

“Right. Let’s never speak of that again.” Yeonjun says clinging on to Wooyoung’s shoulder as they walk out of your apartment.

“Deal.”

Your alarm went off, waking you from your hibernation at 10 AM.

That’s strange? You didn’t set an alarm clock.

You keep your eyes closed, feeling around the bed for your phone to turn the obnoxious sound off when it suddenly hit you that you were in your own bed.

Your eyes shoot open out of shock and bits and pieces from last night are starting to come back to you.

You got drunk, you got absolutely baked and then you ended up in Johnny’s bed to sleep it off but how the fuck did you get home?

You jolt upwards, feeling a pounding headache come to the surface as you look around.

Everything looks normal. You were dressed in an oversized t-shirt; your clothes were neatly folded on your dresser and even your make-up was off.

There is no way in hell you did all that by yourself…

You get up slowly, trying not to lose your balance and right at the moment you stretched your body, your gaze falls on a note on your bedside table.

Your eyes widen when you recognize the cursive handwriting and you hold your breath as you read the note.

I hope you’re feeling better,

Drink lots of water and try to eat something more nutritious than instant noodles ok?

Yeonjun.

You keep reading the words over and over again but your mind couldn’t comprehend the fact that he was here, in your apartment, and helped you change out of your party wear.

Well, fuck.

You rake your hand through your hair and sigh not knowing what to do with this information.

How did he know where you were? And why did he come to get you?

A million questions ran through your mind but you weren’t exactly ready to talk to him about it so you dial the only reliable eye witness you remember being there, Ryujin.

[Y/N, 10.04 AM]: Please fill me in on the blocks of memory missing from my brain. Why the fuck did Yeonjun take me home. I’m so lost.

[Ryujin, 10:05 AM]: Good morning to you too lmaoo

[Ryujin, 10:05 AM]: Dude, it was like a kdrama.

[Y/N, 10.05 AM]: What now????

[Ryujin, 10:06 AM]: Idk how Yeonjun figured out that you were there but he basically made a big ass scene and argued with Johnny since he wouldn’t let Yeonjun in at first but then things got so soft and cute. Like he caressed your cheek and carried you to the car. You even told him it was ok for him to take you home.

[Y/N, 10.06 AM]: I did!?

[Y/N, 10.06 AM]: Omg…wtf…I’m speechless.

[Ryujin, 10:07 AM]: Is there a problem? Aren’t you two a thing?

Well shit, what do you reply to that?

You let Ryujin’s words and Yeonjun’s actions register to you a bit before you could even think of a response to send her.

The past week has been hell. You’ve been going to class with an empty mind and soul, basically living on automatic pilot. You didn’t allow yourself to feel cause if you did, you were sure you were going to have a meltdown.

You couldn’t handle losing Yeonjun and Mia in one day, so you kind of pretended it never happened.

You blocked both of them from your socials and hung out with different people. Even though Soobin checked in on you and you on him, you hadn’t seen him.

You guess that seeing each other would spark a conversation both of you weren’t ready to have; so, you actively avoided each other.

You both needed time, and you also had different ways of dealing with your feelings.

Whereas Soobin stayed home and hung out with the guys, you went out and got drunk on schooldays.

In the past week you had done a lot of thinking. You tried to justify both Mia and Yeonjun’s actions but no matter how hard you tried; you just couldn’t see it from their point of view. Though you do realize that they didn’t have malicious intent, you were more sad than angry.

Truth is you missed them, but you didn’t know how to move past this either, especially with Yeonjun.

Last night's events changed something for you though, and you needed to talk about it with someone who knew exactly what you were going through and the only person who fit that description was Soobin.

After replying to Ryujin with a short ‘I’ll talk to you about it later” you asked Soobin to meet you in a bakery near Campus for Brunch and he agreed.

You knew you could lure him to any spot that sold bread so here you were, 1,5 hours later. Sitting at a window seat table while you waited for Soobin to arrive.

You quickly checked your appearance in the front camera of your phone. You did your best to hide the bags under your eyes with some much-needed concealer and even used eye drops to subside the swelling and lingering redness.

If Soobin found out what you did last night, he’d kill you, and that’s an understatement.

As Soobin walked into the bakery, the door made a ringing sound and you immediately looked up. He was dressed in a white t-shirt paired with his favorite denim jacket. He looked tired, the dark bags under his eyes being a dead give-away to the lack of sleep he had gotten in the past week. It made your heart ache for him and suddenly you want to kick yourself for not making an effort to see him sooner.

His eyes found yours and he gave you a sweet smile as he was glad to see you after a week of separation. You got up to hug him without a word and the two of you just stand there for a while, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. The much-needed comfort made you close your eyes as your cheek rested on his chest and he sighed, patting your hair before he gave you a kiss on your forehead while letting go of you slowly.

You both sat down and stared at each other for a few seconds. He assessed your appearance and frowned.

“Did you lose weight?” he asks a little concerned.

You shrug, not wanting to tell him about your loss of appetite. “How are you?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“You first.”

“No, you first.” You insist this time, your eyes widening as a threat.

“Ugh fine.” He sighed, knowing that you could go at it for literal hours.

“I feel like shit. I miss Mia. I miss Yeonjun hyung, but I can’t forgive or forget about what happened.”

“Same.” You rest your elbow on the table so your hand could support your heavy head. You rubbed your forehead and bit your lip, contemplating if you should tell Soobin about what happened last night.

“I saw him last night," you confess.

“What? Where?” Soobin was surprised, to say the least. He didn’t think you’d be ready for that so soon.

“Well, technically he saw me, I didn’t see him,” you explain.

Soobin pouted to show his confusion and that’s when you start rambling. You told him everything you could recall but he stopped you midway.

“Why were you passed out?”

“Because I mixed,” you say avoiding eye contact as you sip on your iced coffee.

“Mixed what? Drinks?”

“No…I…accidentally…hypothetically…might have joined the crackheads.”

Soobin’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he raised his voice at you without second thought.

“You did WHAT!?”

People in the café were giving him looks and embarrassment flushed to his ears before he averted his attention back to you, speaking to you in a more hushed tone.

“Y/n what the fuck,” he whisper-screamed. “Why the fuck would you resort to drugs.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” You breathe. “I guess the whole situation of Yeonjun basically planning to abandon me before he returned, sparked some childhood trauma of my dad leaving for the army. It felt the same way and I never want to feel like that again so I just…got drunk and…stumbled into the garden and ended up with a blunt in my mouth before I could think about it.”

Saying it out loud was a big step, because you hadn’t gotten as far as making that connection yet, but you realize it could very much be right. You had a fear of abandonment, and Yeonjun basically confessing that he was planning to never return if it wasn’t for his housekeeper telling him that he should go back didn’t quite help with that hypothesis.

Soobin sighed, he felt bad for you but he still felt like it wasn’t a valid reason for you to turn to drugs, even if it was just weed. People with traumas are more susceptive to addiction and he didn’t want that for you, so he’d make sure you’d never go near it again.

“Just never do it again.” He says sternly, giving you his warning glare.

You make eye contact again and sigh in relief, nodding sheepishly as you chew on your straw.

“Y/n, I hope you realize that healthy relationships shouldn’t feel like what Yeonjun hyung has given you until now.”

Soobin’s words made you look up at him again. Ouch. That hurt. But he’s right.

The bad started to outweigh the good a long time ago and you knew it.

“It’s clear that he loves you, and he explained he wanted to stay away from you out of love and fear to drag you down with him but…the way he communicates. The way he thinks he resolves issues by lying about them. It’s not…it’s just not it. You can’t fix him y/n. He has to do that on his own.”

Soobin’s advice was never the type of advice that comforted you, because Soobin only told you the truth, and the truth hurt.

Because the truth is that even if you were to forgive Yeonjun for lying to you and manipulating you, how could you get through to him when he thinks his decisions are justified because they were made out of love for you?

He left you because he loved you.

He left you because you deserved better.

But he still left you while making you believe that he wouldn’t leave forever, and even though he did come back, the fact that he withheld that information from you for whatever reason he had; still broke your trust.

“I’m tired of giving him chances.”

“Then don’t give him any.”

“Yeah, that’s easier said than done Soobin. My feelings for him don’t just have an on and off switch. I love him but we’ve had a 10 years marriage worth of drama and we’ve only been seeing each other for 3 and a half months, and he was gone for most of it.”

“Yeah, that’s some shit.” Soobin says as he looks around the café to try and organize his thoughts.

His eye landed on the table next to him because he felt like he was being watched.

A man dressed in a black suit with a sharp jawline and slicked-back dark hair was typing throughout your whole conversation, but when both of you stopped talking, the man stopped typing.

He made eye contact with the middle-aged man for a split second and Soobin’s gaze stopped at the shiny silver pen in the front pocket of the man’s suit. It clearly read C.E Holdings Group.

You were staring out the window yourself, so nothing was registering to you, but when the mystery man’s phone lit up, Soobin’s eyes darted to the caller ID.

Again, with the C.E. Soobin’s blinked a couple of times and he quickly averted his attention back to you; trying not to be obvious.

C.E? Choi Enterprises? Could he be right or is he just being paranoid?

Suddenly Yeonjun’s monologue to you from that godforsaken dark day popped back into Soobin’s brain as he reminisced about what Yeonjun said to you in an attempt to make you understand why he lied to you about all of it.

“Y/n you’re not getting it…being in the know could get you hurt. If malicious people were after the company, or if my dad had enemies, I didn’t know about… I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”

“Soobin, are you okay? You look paler than usual,” you ask cocking your eyebrow at him.

Soobin broke out of his trance and nodded absentmindedly.

If you were being followed there was only one way to find out.

“Let’s get our food to go, the weather is still nice. We can eat it at the park,” he says getting up all of a sudden. He didn’t want to tell you yet because you’d freak out. So, this was the only way to get you to leave without noticing something was up.

“….Okay…..” he was acting weird, but you decided to comply with him given the circumstances. You got up, brushing past him to get your order to go.

“Weirdo,” you whisper under your breath.

Soobin’s change in attitude was odd.

The two of you walked around the park and he was super restless for some reason. He was constantly looking over his shoulder and you just about had enough.

“Let’s sit down somewhere already.” You complain and Soobin snapped out of his trance, nodding quietly before sitting down at a bench with a view over the lake.

“What is wrong with you? Is it because of Mia? Why won’t you talk to me about her? You keep avoiding the topic and preach about Yeonjun and me when you’re the one with a two-year-old relationship on the line.” You say as you hand him his croissant.

Your words might have come out a little harsh, but Soobin knew your intentions. He snapped out of his paranoia once again and looked at your concerned facial expression while he took the pastry from your hold.

You sat there and talked about everything. Soobin was able to relax a bit more given the fact that the guy from before was nowhere to be found, which made him re-think his theory of being followed.

During your talk it was clear that Soobin missed Mia, and that he regretted not communicating with her more before he broke things off with her. Despite it all, he wasn’t ready to look past the situation yet and you completely understood; because you felt the exact same way.

“She hasn’t reached out to me, and I haven’t seen her in class either," you say as you rest your head on his shoulder. Your hangover was still present, so you were getting tired, and Soobin was quick to notice.

“Maybe it’s time for me to talk to her…alone.”

“You’re ready for that?” you ask lifting your head off of his shoulder to look at him.

“I honestly just want to know if she’s okay…after all, it’s not like I stopped loving her.”

You nod understandingly. An involuntary yawn escapes your lips and you close your eyes, placing your head back on Soobin’s shoulder. You sat in the park for hours and hours on end and it was already past 5.

He looked down at you and chuckled, patting your head in comfort. “Let’s get you home.”

You were grateful for the ride home since you didn’t even have to ask for it. It’s the little things Soobin does that made you realize just how lucky you are to have him.

After all, the reason he broke things off with Mia was not so much about their issues, but about your issues with her and you knew that even though you didn’t know how, things were going to have to get back to normal with Mia and Soobin because you couldn’t stand to see him in pain like this.

Soobin pulled up to your apartment building shortly after, stopping as close to the entrance as possible.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You go in for a clumsy hug and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head before you open the car door to get out.

“No prob-” he stopped mid-sentence when his eye landed on a black BMW with tinted windows that he’s never seen before. The car was parked across the lot, and it wasn't exactly blending in with the cheaper cars around. When Soobin spotted the BMW, the window rolled up and he swore he saw the same slicked-back hairdo from the man he saw before in the café.

“U ok?” you ask as you hold the car door open, assessing a rather frazzled looking Soobin.

“Hey, should I come inside with you?” He suddenly asks, his face held an expression you couldn’t quite read so you gave him a look. “Eh, no. I think I’m just gonna sleep this headache off.”

“Oh…well…if anything happens you call me ok.”

“Why would anything hap-”

“Just call me, Ok.”

You frown at his once again, super odd behavior and nod. “Ok...I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you…” Soobin says absentmindedly. He eyed the car a little longer and it drove off, making him relax a little more in his seat.

You closed the door and walk into your apartment building and Soobin watched you as you did just in case.

He grabbed his phone, dialing the only number that made sense to him right now, and to his surprise, he picked up almost immediately.

“Yeonjun hyung are you home? We need to talk.”

“What do you mean followed?” Yeonjun asks immediately alerted by Soobin’s story.

“Do you happen to have one of those company pens around here?” Soobin says as he made his way to Yeonjun’s desk to skim the surface.

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows, getting up to retrieve the silver pen with black engraving from his drawer to hand to Soobin.

He assessed the tiny object and turned it to read the engraving. C.E Holdings Group. “Fuck, it’s the same.”

“And you LEFT her by herself!?” Yeonjun remarks as he rakes his hand through his hair in distress.

“I didn’t know for sure, I thought I was just being paranoid but when I saw the black car with those tinted windows outside of the building I freaked.”

He started pacing around his room with large eyes.

“Wait, a car?” Was it…”

“A black BMW” they both say in unison, and suddenly the air got thick.

“You’ve seen the car?”

“Yes, last night when Wooyoung and I drove y/n home, Wooyoung mentioned that he felt like we were being followed by a black BMW.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Soobin says throwing his head back in frustration.

“Why the fuck would they follow her? And who is he working for? What the fuck is going on. I knew I shouldn’t have come back, look at what’s happening.” Yeonjun was rambling, throwing all of his thoughts on the table. He sat down on his bed, burying his face in his hands as his pupils darted back and forth.

“Hyung…calm down.” Soobin tries to comfort Yeonjun by putting a hand on his shoulder but he should’ve known better.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” Yeonjun bites back. “I could have prevented this.”

Soobin sighed, hating to admit that if he was in Yeonjun’s shoes; he would’ve done the exact same things to protect Mia. Soobin didn’t realize the scale of it all. How much shit was on the line and how different Yeonjun’s world was from theirs, but this changed everything.

Like Yeonjun once said, it was a matter of billions and people would do crazy things to get to those billions; but what did you have to do with that? Did they want to get to Yeonjun through you? Blackmail him? Kill him? Kill you?

Soobin’s mind was basically reciting every K-drama he has ever seen and he was about to combust before Yeonjun snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You have to go back,” he states looking at Soobin. “She might not be safe; we have to tell her.”

“Oh yeah, let’s just tell her she’s being shadowed by some dude, that won’t freak her out.”

“It’s better than saying nothing. I will literally sleep in front of her door if I have to Soobin. We have to find out who he’s working for, and what he wants. She’s not safe, we’re not safe.”

“What the fuck did our lives turn into.” Soobin says letting out an exasperated sigh.

Yeonjun bit the inside of his cheek nervously as he kept thinking about what he possibly could have missed when he was investigating the situation back home. Was it his mother? Was he wrong about her? Or was it some random foe in the company that he didn’t know about?

Hearing the boys laugh in the living room made him snap out of his thoughts and he looked at the door of his bedroom, realizing how many people he cared for could be in potential danger.

“The boys can’t know.” Yeonjun says. “We protect them from this. We don’t need more targets on anyone's backs. We have to keep them as far away from this shit as possible.”

Soobin nodded, agreeing with Yeonjun. “Let’s go to y/n together alright. She won’t listen to me; you know how she is.” Soobin says as he looks at Yeonjun and he nodded, rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun was completely out of it. His mind was doing cartwheels as he freaked out on the inside.

“Hyung, it’s gonnabe ok. I’m with you on this.” Soobin says holding out his hand for Yeonjun.

Yeonjun looked up, somehow glad that Soobin and he were looking past their issues to solve this mystery, but he couldn’t be glad about anything right now, given the circumstances.

Yeonjun grabs Soobin’s hand and Soobin pulled him up from the bed, looking into Yeonjun’s equally dark and tired eyes. “Let’s go”

The sun had set for a while now.

It was past 8 and Mia was fidgeting with her sleeves, contemplating if she should ring your doorbell.

She came all the way to your house but somehow, she didn’t think things through fully.

What if you didn’t want to see her? What if you were just as mad as before?

She built up the courage to ring your doorbell and no later than 10 seconds you opened the door, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes before you realized who it was.

“Mia?” you say a little dumbfounded.

“C-can I come in?” she asked with sad eyes.

You bite your lip, and nod, stepping aside so she could walk into your apartment.

For some odd reason you had the feeling as if Mia’s eyes weren’t the only ones looking at you and as she steps inside of your apartment, you skim the hallways with your eyes, but there was no one in sight.

You stand there frozen for a second before you turn your attention to Mia, closing the door behind you.

The silence was awkward when you poured a cup of her favorite mandarin green tea for her as she was sitting on your couch, waiting for you to sit down with her so you could talk.

In the meantime, Soobin and Yeonjun had raced their way over to your house, and to their horror, the black BMW had returned.

Yeonjun was the first one to run out of Soobin's car to inspect the BMW, he had no idea what he was running towards, how dangerous It would be, and what could happen if he exposed whoever was in there but he didn’t care.

He hit the hood of the car and tried to look inside but the vehicle was empty.

Soobin jogged after Yeonjun after having parked his car on the sidewalk. “Empty?”

Yeonjun nodded, kicking a dent into the front car door out of frustration.

“He can’t be far.”

You sat down with Mia, handing her the cup and just as she was about to speak, a weird cracking noise at your front door alerted both of you.

“Is…someone trying to break your lock?” Mia says with wide eyes. You look at her in panic and put your finger over your mouth, telling her to stop talking.

You get up with the cup of boiling hot tea in your hand, and tiptoe your way to your front door to look through the peephole. Mia got up as well, watching you like a hawk as she trailed behind you.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you see an unknown man trying to force your lock open and you cover your mouth to suppress a gasp.

You don’t know what went through your mind but you didn’t have time to think.

You open your door with a fast swing, startling the unknown intruder in the process.

“Y/N!” Mia yelled trying to pull you back but you didn’t budge.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve something shiny, but before he could do anything, you throw the cup of hot water in his face, making him groan and drop his pockets’ contents on the floor.

He ran for it, and right that second the elevator doors open across the hall, and you see Yeonjun and Soobin with balled fists and alarmed facial expressions run over to you.

You made eye contact with both of them as adrenaline rushed through your veins, everything happened so damn fast that you couldn’t process how or why this was happening. And why Soobin and Yeonjun magically appeared at the right timing.

“Stay with them.” Yeonjun tells Soobin in panic as he ran after the perpetrator in the opposite direction without hesitation.

“YEONJUN NO!” You yell. You wanted to run after him as well, but Soobin stops you by blocking you with his body, shocked to see a frozen Mia behind you in the door way of your apartment.

Your neighbors came out of their apartments to see what the fuss was about, and suddenly you felt your head spinning. People were gathering outside of their homes in confusion as they talked amongst themselves, but nothing registered to you as adrenaline kept coursing through your veins.

“Let me go!” you protest, but Soobin doesn’t move. It didn’t take long for you to give up the fight and you look to the floor, seeing a cracked iPhone lying next to a knife and suddenly shivers ran down your spine at the thought of what he could have done to you with that weapon.

“S-Soobin what’s going on.” Mia says as her eyes found his.

Soobin sighed, turning around to talk to the crowd that had formed in the halls. “Nothing to see here people, please go back inside.”

“We need to call the cops” Mia says. “Was it a coincidence that you showed up here?”

Soobin shook his head, retrieving the phone from the floor as your neighbors went back inside with confused faces. A few of them lingered around and to your relief you see Yeonjun come back up the fire escape.

“I lost the motherfucker.” He shouts in anger walking into your apartment as he brushed passed you, exploring every room just to be sure. “He drove off so fast there was no way I could catch up.”

You were completely dazed and out of it, all you heard was white noise even though Soobin and Mia were talking to each other and when Yeonjun came back from inspecting your bedroom, he ran to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and trapping you into his embrace.

“Oh my god, thank god you’re okay,” he says obviously overcome with emotion as he held you close to his chest. His hand was on your head, trying to comfort you and it worked. The recent events finally got to you as you melt in his hold and you start to tremble as the shock in your body gets replaced by realization.

This could have ended a lot differently.

Soobin closes your front door and put his arm around Mia who was just as shocked by what happened. He held her hand, intertwining their fingers as he kissed her temple. “Are you ok?”

She nodded, sighing as she let go of Soobin, she wanted answers and fast.

“Is someone going to tell us what the fuck is going on?” She says looking from you to Yeonjun to Soobin and then back to you with worried eyes.

Yeonjun reluctantly let go of you. He didn’t know where to start because everything happened so fast. 30 minutes ago, he was in his room, not suspecting a thing before Soobin barged in with his crazy but justified assumptions.

“When we were in the bakery, I saw a man watching us. And when I dropped you off at home, I saw a car with someone inside that looked like him. That same car was following Yeonjun and Wooyoung last night as well.” Soobin explains as he made his way to you. He held you by your shoulders, inspecting you from head to toe.

“Did he touch you?”

You shake your head and sigh but Mia chimes in, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You guys should’ve seen her, she turned full G.I Joe on the man and threw her tea in his face.”

You manage to let out a chuckle and sit down on the armrest of your couch trying to wrap your mind around what Soobin just said.

Yeonjun couldn’t even think of cracking a smile. Too lost in thought to be fully present.

“What does he want? Who is he? This can’t be random?” You ask looking at Yeonjun with hopeful eyes. For once you wanted him to tell you the truth.

“No,” Yeonjun says. “Because it isn’t”

“Huh?” Mia says a little annoyed at their vagueness. “We should have called the cops.”

“No, it’s…” Soobin hesitated but continued after Yeonjun gave him a small nod. “I saw the Choi Enterprise's watermark on a pen in his suits’ front pocket at the bakery.”

Your eyes shoot to Soobin’s in shock. “That’s why you wanted to leave and why you were acting so weird?”

Soobin nodded guiltily and you scoff. “Why didn’t you tell me.”

“Because I wasn’t sure, but the pen, the phone it all….” Soobin stopped mid-sentence and all of you looked to him in confusion.

He retrieved something from his pocket and showed it to you. “He dropped his fucking phone.”

“Oh my god.” Yeonjun says walking up to Soobin to check out the device.

All of you walk over to your dinner table and sit down, trying different passcodes to unlock the phone but it was to no avail. After having blocked access for more than 15 minutes you give up until the phone started to buzz against the surface of your wooden table.

It was an anonymous caller ID this time, and all of you look to Yeonjun.

“Well…is anyone going to get that?” Mia says as she looked at the rest of you.

Soobin was nervously biting his nails while you just stared at the phone.

Yeonjun gulped before he took the phone from the table, sliding his finger over the screen to accept the call.

He put the phone on speaker and stayed silent.

“Status report?”

"...Hello?"

All of your eyes widened at the same time and Yeonjun ended the call immediately. Shivers ran down your spine and you swallow harshly as you fixate your gaze on Yeonjun.

That voice, you’ve heard it before, and you knew exactly who it belonged to.

“No…” he says as his heart drops. “This can’t be her.”

“Yeonjun…” you try to hold his hand but he pulls away, all eyes were on him as he got up, you were worried for him and uncertain of what to do.

He couldn’t take this, not after everything else that happened.

He looked completely lost as disbelief washed over him, he bit his lip; choking back tears that welled up in his eyes.

“It can’t be Lita.”

Chapter 13.

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ultraforgottenwords · 3 years

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stoner!mo & he tian part i

- Oh He Tian, he is a sight...when he’s high. (he was also a sight most of the time normally, but that was an admission that he might not be able to part with yet)

- The first time they get high together, Mo tries to tell him to take it easy, but he knew that his advice was jack shit when Tian defiantly took in too much of hit, letting it out in an impressive coughing fit. Mo could only chuckle and give him a smile in return.

- His limbs had started to feel heavy and relaxed, as he carefully takes the joint from Tian’s hand, pressing it softly against his lips and inhaling deep.

Mo chastises him as he takes another hit, “You don’t have much self-restraint do you? Idiot.”

“I wanted to make sure it would work, tastes fucking gross though.”

Mo tilts his head, “You smoke cigarettes, I don’t think it would be worse than that.”

It’s not hard to tell that the other is feeling the buzz, as he continued to talk nonsense, more relaxed than Mo had ever seen him.

“I mean sure, they don’t taste great, but they’re not terrible.”

Handing the joint back, he grins at the way He Tian says “oh!” and fumbles to take the significantly smaller toke in between his fingers. He’s not as composed like his usual self and Mo finds it...entertaining. Definitely something that he wouldn’t mind seeing again...

He Tian takes a smaller drag this time, only a small puff floating through the air as he passes it back.

“I think I’m good. You want a drink?”

Mo snorts, grin pulling at his lips at how the words sounded coming from He Tian’s mouth. More of a youwannadrink than anything decipherable. He finishes the joint and puts it out in the ashtray Tian had on the balcony.

“How about you have a seat and I’ll get you some water.”

He Tian’s quiet for a moment, staring out into the busy city streets.

“Hm?”

"C'mon you idiot," he says with a laugh, guiding the other inside with a hand at his back.

He Tian is surprising pliant, "This is nice you know? I don't know what I expected, but it's better than what I thought it was gonna be."

He seats Tian down on the couch, and makes his way to the kitchen. The atmosphere is strange, he's used to being high alone and having someone else around is a different experience.

tbc

part ii

#19 days #mo guan shan #he tian #tianshan #stoner!mo #boys getting high together #this is like my fav au #if it wasn't obvious #here we go here we go again

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woeismyhoe · 3 years

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Rachel Amber, The Broken Angel Who Demonized Herself

Fair warning, please bear with this probably incredibly **longass** (I’m not kidding it’s rlly long) analysis of one of the fandom’s most controversial disliked characters, Rachel Amber. This is just my attempt to analyze her character based on observation from BtS to LiS so by no means do you have to accept them. Productive discussions are obviously very welcomed :D

In LiS, when we asked about Rachel around campus, most of them had nothing but compliments and praises for the missing girl. She was essentially an honorary Vortex Club member who socialised with the snobs, yet she also hung out with the skater stoners and was friendly with those at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Then we see those graffiti around where it hints at Rachel’s promiscuity, debts and conflicts with other people. That’s the first sign we see that Rachel Amber isn’t as perfect as everyone was making her out to be. Afterwards we discover that Rachel was a stoner herself and into whatever drugs there were, partied harder than anyone else, promiscuous, entered a relationship with local drug dealer Frank Bowers while having a secret relationship with Psycho teacher Mark Jefferson— all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA in her studies and being considered perfect and adored by practically everyone in her school. The girl’s incredible, obviously, or maybe scary for someone to be so spread out in everything.

Rachel was a straight A student with a 4.0 GPA, an administrative assistant to the Principal, beloved by students and faculty alike, literal goddess beauty, had ambitions to be a model and study international law, daughter of the DA and was the closest to perfection anyone would ever be— so what went wrong? What made her romanticise the idea of running away from a town where everyone loves and adores her?

Because of the above.

Yes, it may sound whiny and dramatic to feel tired of being loved and being the center of attention all the time, but there’s no point to it if it’s not you who they adore, but the person you’re pretending to be— (“I was feeling angsty and reckless. Tired of living up to the perfect image everybody expects out of me.”) —especially when you have to do so much just to maintain the lie.

Throughout LiS and BtS, Rachel’s ability to get along with everyone was always mentioned. At face value she was akin to a social butterfly. She hung out with stoners regardless of their social status (skaters or the vortex club), was friendly with anyone regardless of their place in the social hierarchy (eg; Daniel/Evan/Steph/Drew/Nathan) or even to strangers others usually ignored (Samuel/Homeless lady). Like Evan said, Her friends were her friends. She wasn’t one to let peer pressure affect her relationships so she wasn’t afraid to make all those acquaintances.

However, for those who knew her closely (Chloe and Jefferson), she was referred to as a chameleon, someone who blended in with everyone and everywhere seamlessly. This was an important detail regarding who Rachel was and her intimacy with others. To be able to make that comparison, they would’ve needed to know who the person Rachel actually was underneath the masks she’d created over the years. Chloe was the first to truly see and accept her for who she was. Jefferson was the one who exploited her for it.

For most, being a social chameleon would count as a beneficial social skill if they’re subtle. So long as the person doesn’t lose themselves in the process and is able to separate their personas from their true self, it remains a skill and will be used as such.

The problem with Rachel was that it transcended beyond a skill. A social chameleon was *what* she became, and that led to losing her own sense of identity, to becoming a stranger in her own body.

We see her confiding to Chloe about this feeling in Brave New World: (“Do you think there’s a point when you’ve been acting so much that you don’t even have your own personality anymore? You’re just whatever you think other people want you to be?”) —to which Chloe tells her she does have a personality because she assumed Rachel was talking about herself. But Rachel apparently wasn’t and clarifies she was talking about her father. She then elaborates on how her father doesn’t really exist, that how he was in the principal’s office was a mere performance and then the actual truth— that she’s afraid she’ll end up like him.

No matter how you interpret that scene, the conclusion is that one of Rachel’s fears was becoming like James— someone who’s been so wrapped up in all the lies and manipulation that he no longer seemed recognisable to even his own daughter.

At that point her defence mechanism of deflection and avoidance came into play after Chloe got a little too close to home. We first see this on the train scene when they play Two Truths and a Lie. Rachel gave factual statements as opposed to Chloe who gave facts that elaborated into her personal life. At one point Chloe can ask how Rachel knew about having a distal radius fracture and It’s a very minor detail, but when she explains that it’s because she broke her wrist when she was 10, she says it extremely fast. When Chloe is about to press for more info about something personal no matter what option you choose, Rachel dismissively turns around the conversation from herself back to Chloe again.

The next time we see her deflecting is right after witnessing her father cheating. When Chloe asks about her, Rachel deflects and guilt trips her into somehow thinking she’s at fault for failing to get them wasted and then proceeds to drown her sorrows into alcohol instead of opening up. Afterwards when they find the junkyard, Rachel chooses to isolate herself from Chloe and withdraws to the corner, getting irritated if Chloe chooses to invade her space. When Chloe confronts her about her sudden moodiness, Rachel yet again deflects and shifts the attention to Chloe by essentially telling her she’s self-centred. This scene was classic Deflection 101 brought by Rachel’s defence mechanism to cope with her father’s betrayal.

Rachel uses deflection and avoidance as a defence mechanism, a habit which stems from the dynamics of the Amber family. When you have a Politician as a father whose life work is to manipulate and lie, and a Stepford Wife as a mother who wilfully acts like a servant to her husband out of sacrifice and duty— an environment of deceit and suppression of one’s feelings will be fostered. This is what shapes Rachel to be distrusting and unhealthily altruistic as we see in BtS.

And so Rachel’s deflection is driven by 2 things: mistrust (James) and her unhealthy altruism (Rose).

As a district attorney, James unfortunately carried his work persona into his personal life and can be presumed to lie to even his own family on a daily basis to the point that Rachel can tell when he’s lying: (“When your Dad is the District Attorney, I guess lying is...something you're used to.”) (Why can't you just tell me the fucking truth?! Stop lying! Stop being a politician for one fucking minute! Can’t you just be my Dad?”) What that tells us is that Rachel’s actually used to being lied at and treated with cynicism, so naturally that would make her guarded around others. Not to mention since James often exercised his professional prerogative (just recall how he spoke to Chloe and her comment about his micro-aggressions towards his own family), it’s most likely that he was also cynical towards people in general and carried that mindset forward at Rachel as well.

As for Rose, you have to really observe how she carried herself and her choice of words. A lot of people pointed out how robotic she sounded and blamed it on bad voice acting, but I think that was actually intentional. She was too mannered, too submissive and too robotic as a person. It’s not exactly a bad thing, but a lot of her personality seemed to be too... *political* for the sake of her husband’s political career. It was altruistic in the way that she sacrificed her own needs for her husband’s and was unfailingly supportive (eg; preparing dinner all by herself, *respectfully* asking James for his drink, even going so far as to excuse James for kissing Sera like wtf). Point is, Rose was the stereotypical political wife whose job was to shut up, look good and smile for her husband while he does the talking. At one point in the dinner scene when they start fighting, James even dared to say ‘Rose, let me handle this’ as if Rose’s voice was irrelevant and unimportant to the table (when he literally just got exposed for cheating lmao).

So what happens when your family environment consists of a father who actively lies and uses manipulation to twist facts, expects you to be compliant in exchange for rewards (birthday money), has the ability to read people, and a mother who does too much for someone who does the barest minimum for the family and represses herself for the sake of others? An environment of deceit and suppression will be fostered, and you develop all of their qualities, for better or worse. That’s difficult to change when your own family dynamics molded you to be that way and then reward you for it. If you recall, Rachel’s mannerisms changed completely when in front of her family and if Chloe complained about having to play the goody two shoes formal well-behaved humorless girl, Rachel would say: ‘try doing it your whole life’. So not only was she playing different roles in school but evidently at home as well.

But It’s not as if the Amber family was aware of the toxic environment they’d created. That’s just what their normal was: to be well-mannered, formal, professional, mature and well-articulated.

This is where Rachel’s social chameleon tendencies develops. Social chameleons usually have reasons for blending in when it comes to personal relationships:

1. Being liked is important for them (they value what people think of them).

2. They want to blend in so as to not stand out (they don’t like attention).

3. They’re doing it to make the other person comfortable (the needs of others come first before theirs).

Considering how Rachel was extremely popular, active in all sorts of school activities and enjoyed the attention of being the star, no. 2 is out. She confessed to wanting to stop being a social chameleon and didn’t seem to care much about Victoria’s dislike of her + she also did it to her family so no. 1 is out as well, which leaves us to no. 3— doing it for the comfort of others. In other words, because she *gave too much shit about other people all the time*.

What further supports the point of Rachel’s unhealthy altruism is what she says to Chloe at the junkyard— (“Maybe you should try giving a shit about other people for once.”) —which essentially tells us that she’s been doing exactly that to be able to lecture Chloe into following her own perspective. Another example would be what she tells Chloe during their therapy session: “—Because she was tired of having to give so many fucks all the time.”

One thing however that all *extreme* social chameleons share is the fact that they **loathe** themselves, or at the very least— dislike who they are. Why else would they go all the trouble of creating different personas for everyone to the point of forgetting their own, if they actually liked themselves?

One of the many things that Chloe and Rachel shared in common was their self-awareness in how undeniably shitty they can be, and that they hated who they were. Whereas Chloe embraced that whole part of her down her self destructive road, Rachel tried to cover hers up by playing other roles for people. Both girls played their sides to the ends of the spectrum; Chloe being selfish (causing problems for everyone in general unnecessarily) and Rachel being selfless (posing no problem for anyone in general even if there was a problem). They had no healthy balance and their unhealthy mindset ultimately drove them down a self destructive path.

Rachel knew she was selfish by nature, and that she’d take it out on Chloe in Ep 1. That’s why instead of talking about what was wrong, she chose to drown herself to alcohol and distance herself from Chloe. When Chloe confronts her about it, she either tells her that not everything revolves around her or that she should try giving a shit about people for once. In other words, ‘Other people have bigger problems than you so shut up and don’t make it worse for them.’ That was Rachel’s mentality and in that moment of poor lapse in judgment, she applied that logic to Chloe expecting her to think the way she does— to put others before yourself.

With Rachel, she always had her walls up and couldn’t help it even if she wanted to because it's practically second nature to have her guard up (“I never said how dearly I hold thee; my habit's been to keep my soul well-draped.“). It’s only in her lowest vulnerable moments is when she finally let her walls down because that’s when she’s too tired to keep them up.

Luckily (or unluckily) for Rachel, she recognized her problem. The only thing is that she didn’t know how to solve them. She confided to Chloe about feeling like she doesn’t exist, but then backtracked and clarified she was talking about her dad instead when Chloe got too close to home. Even IF she was genuinely talking about her father, it doesn’t erase the fact that she believed there was a possibility she was going to become like him— because she already saw the signs and made the comparison between them.

Remember her infamous outbursts in Awake? Unlike Chloe, she’s the type who keeps everything bottled in until it’s too much. Seeing her father kissing another woman was the breaking point and that’s why she reacted badly. And then when she kicked that bin, that was equivalent to Chloe smashing up the junkyard. And then that scream. That scream was the result of years bottling her pent up frustration, stress, anger at everyone including herself. Because she did everything to make her family proud, to please everyone to the point that she felt so empty and hollow, only to realize that it was all for nothing because her father was destroying her family. It wasn’t just a betrayal from her father but a betrayal to herself.

And then there’s Chloe Price. The girl who is the total opposite of her, yet who she can somehow still connect with at the same time. While she cared too much about what others thought, Chloe gave absolutely no fucks. That was her most attractive and admirable quality for Rachel. So what does she do? She latches onto Chloe to do exactly what she knows best. Become the ideal version of whoever wants her to be. In other words, the Rachel Amber who would finally give no fucks.

Rachel was the closest to her truest self when she was around Chloe. Just as she brought life and hope back into the girl’s life, so did Chloe for her. Chloe broke the walls she put up, and she’d seen her vulnerable enough times to let her mask slip. Chloe saw her at her lowest, ugliest self even when she wasn’t doing her usual thing of keeping everyone around her happy, yet she didn’t mock or leave her for it. For the first time, she was selfish, and *still* Chloe came back. That was a BIG reason to trust each other for the both of them. And that’s ultimately what bonded them for so long— the fact that they could be the shittiest people on earth, yet still see the best in each other even if they only see the worst in themselves.

Chloe was the first one to see through her social chameleon act because she slipped, and she continued to let her unmask who she was because that night Rachel just didn’t care enough to hold up the act any longer. This detail of Rachel’s chameleon act slipping *only* when something was wrong is a vital part in understanding the context around her. The first time was when she witnessed her whole world crash, the second was when she realized she was becoming like James, and the third was when she discovered what a monster James was. The fourth— when she asked that trucker for a drive out and didn’t bother to be her usual social chameleon self. We may never know what happened, but something wrong was going on in Rachel’s life that she didn’t want Chloe to be a part of— because why would she put the girl who stuck by her during her darkest hours through her bullshit again?

But at the end of the day, that wasn’t enough. Chloe wasn’t enough. And that’s understandable because a teenager truly can’t and shouldn’t have to be responsible for someone else’s happiness. No matter what choice Chloe makes at the end of BtS, the truth inevitably gets out and leads to Rachel having a fall out with her parents. When that happened, she lost a big pillar of her support system which only leaves her with Chloe who’s another emotionally damaged teen that’s on the road to self-destruction. Chloe can’t help others without helping herself first. But still, who else is there to make them feel a little less shitty except each other?

After her fall out with her parents and her father in particular, she seemed to have developed a taste for men twice her age: Frank Bowers (32) and Mark Jefferson (38). Whatever the reason her relationship with Frank was, she still wrote him those letters and seemed to have cared for him to some extent. Not only was he the source for drugs for her very much needed escape, but he was also the man who helped save her life in one of her most vulnerable moments, and a possible lead to find Sera. It’s not that surprising she’d seek comfort and safety in his arms when he already proved himself once. But clearly it wasn’t serious because she was fooling around with Jefferson at the same time (and Frank knew they wouldn’t have lasted anyway).

Now, Jefferson. The devs confirmed that Rachel was in love with Jefferson and honestly, that’s the least surprising thing ever considering how he basically had the female population of Blackwell head over heels for him. Even Rachel wasn’t immune to that psychopath’s charm. He was a well reputable photographer, had the connections to propel her modeling career, was attractive and mysterious and apparently a damaged soul. He was the perfect one way ticket out of Arcadia Bay. He was her photographer and she was his muse. He was basically the perfect solution to her problems.

The girl clearly had deep rooted daddy issues and was ashamed of it herself since she couldn’t even share her secret relationship to the one person she trusted the most despite sharing her other relationships with her (except Frank).

This is where the drugs and partying come in. They’re a way for her to escape the bullshit in her life for a few hours. Chloe was what made her feel real, but the drugs and partying was what made her forget— forget that her biological mother chose drugs and money over her (twice), forget that her own father was so despicable that he was planning to overdose Sera (this is what Chloe said in the silent dialogue), forget that her biological mother may just be dead somewhere because of James, forget that her own family was a lie, forget all the expectations placed upon her, forget that she herself was a lie, forget that she was so insecure that she had to seek warmth and safety in the arms of men twice her age, forget the guilt of knowing the girl who would die for her was still not enough, forget that at the end of the day all her problems is caused by her own mind and that her own fears had come to reality. And she hated herself for that.

But still, Rachel wasn’t a total junkie or outwardly self destructive to the point that she abandoned her studies like Chloe did. She didn’t let the drugs and partying dictate her life, hence the 4.0 GPA. After all, she still had a reputation to maintain. She was still the DA’s daughter, and getting into college was still a way to get out of Arcadia Bay.

BUT SEE, that was exactly Rachel’s problem. She could never choose which to be; The Problematic Junkie of a Disappointment (Sera), or the Golden Child (James & Rose) everyone expected her to be. She wanted to be as free as Chloe, but she also didn’t want to be a disappointment. She was tired of everything but couldn’t allow herself to fall because it was her nature to demand the best of herself for others as long as she could do it. But what happens when it’s your very own nature you’re going against? It gets really complicated. So instead of choosing, she doesn’t and becomes both. That was ultimately the worst decision she ever made.

Make no mistake, Rachel was an absolute idiot for being so indecisive. She could have easily solved her problems if she just finally gave no shit and did whatever she wanted to. But that’s the problem with people who’re labeled as perfect growing up. They eventually believe it and demand perfection of themselves. They care too much about everything because if they have the ability to be perfect, then why would you choose not to be? When someone is seen to be perfect, disappointment is 10x worse. Even Chloe was guilty of idealizing Rachel to be this perfect girl and was disappointed when she realized Rachel was just like everyone else who puts in hard work—(“Rachel's always made being an A student seem so easy. Almost sad to see all this... effort."), but it’s Chloe accepting Rachel for who she was despite no longer being the perfect girl she believed her to be that mattered.

With being seen as perfect usually comes with the assumption that your whole life is. Just as everyone invalidated her problems because she’s Little Miss Perfect with the perfect grades and the seemingly perfect family, so did she.

‘Cause hey, what does she have to be mad about when she’s a rich white girl who’s been given everything she’s ever wanted, right? (James basically said that). At that point the only problem Rachel had was that she was acting as the perfect daughter and perfect friend and perfect student at the expense of her own happiness, and then throw in the sudden slap in the face that it was all for nothing because her father was destroying the family she’d tried so hard to do proud.

But then again even if that wasn’t enough reason to spiral, it really would mess you up if your own father told you that your biological mother chose money and drugs over you, that everything you’ve done so far was all for a lie and worst of all, that your own father was going to kill your biological mother and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I mean really, I’m not a therapist or anything but I wouldn’t be surprised if Rachel’s mental health was suffering by that point.

I mean get this: she abused drugs and partied harder than anyone else and got wasted even though she knew they were wrong (Sera would’ve been a painful reminder), slept around with older men who undoubtedly took advantage and controlled her, continued to act like the perfect student and pretended to be someone she’s not just to keep everyone happy even though it was causing her to question her own existence— it’s almost as if she was punishing herself for continuing down that path.

Ultimately what Rachel was running away from was who she had become in Arcadia Bay. Once she’d be out, she wouldn’t be Little Miss Perfect anymore. She wouldn’t be the DA’s daughter. She wouldn’t have to keep lying. She would be able to start over. She would just be Rachel Amber, the nobody.

She cared too much in contrast to Chloe’s ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude, and that’s why she still managed to maintain her perfect image even when she was already so broken. Whereas Chloe’s first instinct was to blame others, Rachel’s was to blame herself. Both never had a healthy balance when it came to accepting responsibility and that’s what connected them so well together.

Call it selflessness or selfishness or stupidity or melodrama, but at the end of the day Rachel tried to keep everyone around her happy, just like Max tried to do with her powers except Rachel used lies to do it. She was greedy and selfish, no disagreement to that, but she also tried to be selfless for most of her life. She was her own enemy and she demonized herself for it. And that got her murdered, thrown and buried away like the used rag doll she treated herself to be.

She was Chloe’s angel and Chloe was hers, but she was also her own demon. And there’s only so much two broken angels can do against a demon.

**TL;DR:** Idealizing her to be the Perfect Girl was what made her want to run away. Her family was what broke her. Desperation for escape was what killed her. Her family just *really* suck.

Now, I’m not trying to justify Rachel’s actions but merely rationalizing her character. I acknowledge that she was capable of being a shitty person at times, but just as Chloe had her issues, so did she, and so I choose to see them both for what they tried to be. Good hearted people just trying to make their shitty life a little easier. At the end of the day, Rachel Amber was a deeply flawed, insecure and emotionally damaged girl that pretended like nothing was wrong to forget about her troubles for a little, and was just dealt a bad hand in life. Literally.

After writing all of this, I realize that holy shit this girl was fucking complicated and a single post doesn’t do her justice nor explains her character properly enough. I thought it’d be simple enough to word it out, but then again, someone who was basically a junkie yet still managed to maintain her perfect reputation amongst her peers and the faculty is bound to be this complexed. Also as you can see I got very lazy at the middle of the elaborations and repetition has probably made this unnecessarily long but thank you for reading and finishing this overall confusing and messy essay.

#life is strange #amberprice #chloeprice #rachelamber #analysis #meta #I posted this on Reddit n it got a nice reception #so here it is on tumblr #yk just to stay true to what this blog was supposed to b lmao

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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Hey y’all, here’s chapter 3 of my “Playlist” series (formerly untitled T’Challa fic). Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Make sure you read chapter two HERE first and check out my Masterlist. Word Count: 5916

CW: smut

“Let's go somewhere I don't have to work so hard to keep us from drowning, eh?”

“Where do you have in mind?” Ashanti asked him while peppering his jawline with kisses.

Ashanti’s mouth hung open as the lights came on around her. She couldn’t believe she was actually standing in the King of Wakanda’s royal quarters, and on their first date at that. His hands grabbed her waist and brought her from her stupor. He pulled her back into him and nuzzled into the crook of her neck before lightly kissing up to her ear.

“T’Challa, stop, it tickles,” she barely got out between giggles. His hands snaked around and gripped her fleshy stomach, tickling her more. “You put too much wine in me to be tickling me like this.”

T’Challa chuckled and let her out his grasp before pointing to a door on the far wall.

“Bathroom’s through there,” he kissed her cheek, then shook his head as he watched her ass shake while she walked away.

“Damn.”

Ashanti knew he was watching and sneakily smiled to herself before her expression dropped at the sight before her. She thought the king’s bedroom was nice, but it was nothing compared to the dream jungle spa bathroom she walked into. Tropical plants were scattered around the floor-to-ceiling bamboo room, all under a pyramid glass ceiling. The sunken jacuzzi in the middle of the room was obviously the main attraction, but her eyes were drawn to the rain shower and she forgot why she was even there.

She caught sight of a vanity and went over to set her purse down, checking out her reflection in the mirror.

“Thank Bast I kept the makeup simple.”

Meanwhile, T’Challa poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. He was fine until she went to the bathroom, but her absence smacked him back to his senses. He brought this woman he barely knows into the palace. Into his quarters. It wasn't an issue of security, he had already thoroughly vetted her, but his willingness to have her in his space shocked him. He never brought women back to the palace, not since Ramonda caught him sneaking two very tired-looking young ladies out one morning when he was home from college. Normally he would go to their place instead, enjoying the freedom to cut their time together short and leave whenever he wanted. But no, this time he brought his date home, and it baffled him.

The alcohol was doing absolutely nothing for him so he decided to roll up instead. He broke down the Snow Goddess OG and filled up his hemp wraps before licking it and rolling it tight. Right as he lit it, his ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening, which he could barely hear over the music he had started up.

Don't talk

Just listen

First of all

I have to be honest with you baby

I lied

When I told you I never wanted to see you again

Can you please stay

Just for tonight

And maybe we can do something

Like make love

Watch the sunrise

Or listen to jojo, k-ci, sing us a verse

Slide closer baby

Ha, that devante baby

Oh you feel so sexy, so good

“Come join me on the patio” he shouted to her from outside.

When Ashanti stepped out the patio doors she was shocked once more.

“This view is...,” she gasped, trying but failing to find the words. She could see all of Birnin Zana and even some of the Mining and River provinces, and of course the Jabari mountains in the distance. A tear came to her eye as she looked out over her beautiful home. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she felt T’Challa come up behind her. He leaned on the railing next to her, holding his expertly-rolled blunt.

“You should see it at sunrise and sunset, the most beautiful view in the world.”

“Is that an invitation, your highness?”

He playfully rolled his eyes at her platitude and lifted the blunt, offering it to her. She placed it between her lips and he lit the tip for her. She took a couple hits before passing it back to him.

“So you’re a chef and a stoner. What else don’t I know about you?”

T’Challa laughed and gave it some thought.

“Lets see...I’m an excellent dancer, my love language is touch, I strongly dislike musicals, I’m sure you can guess my favorite color-”

“It's yellow, right?” She said sarcastically, making him laugh more and cough a little from the smoke.

“You are so observant. You know, I like that about you.”

The two fell out laughing, and Ashanti was the first to regain composure.

“Wait what do you mean you hate musicals?”

“Just the serious ones. Drama and random singing don’t go together well in my book.”

He passed the blunt back to her and she took a long drag before letting the smoke migrate up to her nose. When she exhaled the smoke she caught him staring at her, and averted her eyes.

“There’s no reason to be shy, I only bite when you want me to.”

She felt a throbbing in her panties again, just like earlier at the lake. She knew why she came here, but now that she was in his room at the palace it seemed all that confidence from earlier at the lake had left her.

“Lets just enjoy each other’s company, no pressure. Would you like something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“...everything.”

“Oh right, it’s the palace, duh,” she chuckled nervously. “Mango juice?”

“Coming right up. Care to join me? I can give you a quick tour.” T’Challa said before he could catch himself.

“What the fuck am I doing?”, he thought to himself. Here he was, inviting this woman into his inner sanctum after one date and offering her a grand tour of the palace. The logical side of him knew it was too soon, but the emotional side of him couldn’t care less. He wanted this woman in his life. He wasn’t the only one surprised by his willingness to let her into his world.

“Do you do this for all your suitors?” she asked playfully as he opened the door for her and led her down the hallway to the same elevator bank they arrived in.

“No, actually. I do not,” T’Challa responded, prompting Ashanti to blush at his words and change the subject.

“So you have the whole floor?” They stepped in the elevator and went down several stories. “What about everyone else?”

“They have their own floors as well,” he leaned into her ear. “Mine’s just on top.”

They exited the elevator and once again Ashanti was floored by the sight in front of her. Not of the kitchen, but of the rest of the royal family in the living area.

T’Challa hadn’t expected anybody to be awake at this hour or he wouldn’t have suggested she come with him. Three sets of eyes turned and stared at the two of them, jaws dropped.

“Oooh someone’s in trouble,” Shuri said as N’Jadaka snickered.

“H-hello usapho,” T’Challa stuttered, making his sister and cousin laugh even more before Ramonda shot them a look to shut them up.

“T’Challa, your friend looks to be on the verge of a heart attack. Are you alright dear?” Ramonda asked.

“Y-yes Queen m-mother, your highness, um- ma’am” Ashanti quickly corrected her mistake and saluted the royals.

“There is no need for that. Come join us, we just started an American drama N’Jadaka suggested called- oh what is it again Daka?”

“Love Jones, auntie,” he said with the frustration of someone who had clearly answered the question more than once.

“Yes, that is it. There is space for you both over on the couch. Shuri, come join me over he-” she motioned for Ashanti to come join her on the couch and as she took a step forward, a strong arm lightly tugged her back.

“Mama, that is not necessary, we just came down to grab something to drink.”

“And you can still do that,” the Queen Mother snapped at her son. “Young lady what is your name?”

“Ashanti Mostafa, ma’am.”

“The jewelry artist?!” Ramonda said excitedly while Shuri tore her eyes away from the screen.

“I must say, your work is beautiful, dear. That necklace is one of my favorite gifts unyana wam ever gave me, your talent is astounding.” Ramonda showered Ashanti with praise and she almost couldn’t take it.

“I wore it yesterday and had several people asked about it, so you might be getting a few more customers soon!” Shuri chimed in.

“Wow, I-...thank you so much.” Ashanti wandered over to the couch and sat down, much to T’Challa’s dismay. He joined her, sliding his arm around the back of the couch.

“So, how was the date?” N’Jadaka pushed.

“Can you mind your business, please?” T’Challa said and shot him a glare, while Ashanti chuckled.

“Must have been good since you brought her back here,” Shuri whispered, leading Ramonda to pinch her arm.

“So what is the movie about?” Ashanti asked the prince, trying to change the subject. He caught on to her game, but let her off the hook for now.

“Love Jones, it’s a Black American classic. A romantic drama,” N’Jadaka wiggled his eyebrows at his cousin and winked at his date. Ashanti blushed and looked back to T’Challa who was leering at the cheeky prince. She placed her hand on his thigh and he looked at her, removing the scowl from his face. They shared a smile as the other royals tried not to notice the cute moment.

Ashanti and the royals watched the movie in relative silence with T’Challa’s arm steadily sinking lower and lower until it finally rested around her shoulders. Ashanti leaned into his side, and his free hand found hers and intertwined their fingers. Halfway through the movie, Ashanti was lightly snoring on the king’s shoulder, and Shuri and N’Jadaka were out, too.

“I like her,” Ramonda whispered across the room to her son, half sleep herself.

“I do too,” he whispered back before kissing her forehead.

“I can see that. Well I don't want to fall asleep out here like you young folks, so I will see you all in the morning.”

“Good night umama.”

“Good night, son. You be good to that one,” she lightly scolded her son as she woke up her daughter and nephew to usher them out the room.

“Yes ma’am.”

T’Challa spent the rest of the movie panicking about what to do next. Should he stay still and let her sleep uncomfortably on the couch, should he wake her up to go home, or should he carry her up to his bed like he had wanted to do all night and let her sleep there? He didn’t want to seem too forward and he wasn’t sure about how she would feel waking up in his bed, but he knew waking her from her sleep wasn’t an option. Just as the credits finished rolling and he had decided to stay in that position for as long as she did, Ashanti started to stir.

“What’d I miss?”

He loved how her voice sounded after just waking up, the raspiness tickling his ears. She untangled herself from him and stretched her arms wide.

“The rest of the movie,” T’Challa gestured to the screen and smirked at her.

“That was so rude of me in front of your family, I am so sor-”

“Ashanti, it's no big deal. Umama and I were the only ones who didn't pass out and she went to bed halfway through.”

Ashanti nodded and let out a yawn. Thankful for her lack of morning breath, she leaned in to lightly kiss his lips.

“Mm, what was that for?”

“For being so comfortable to sleep on. I mean, damn.”

The two started laughing before the king looked the artist right in the eyes and pulled her in for a deep, slow kiss. Ashanti’s hand trailed up from around his abdomen to cup his cheek and his hand came up to grip her thigh while his other arm pulled her into him. She was wrapping her leg around him when a cough interrupted them. T’Challa pulled away from the kiss, turning instead to glare at the third person in the room. Ashanti hid in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to be caught by whoever.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I came for my shoes. Auntie got us out of here so fast earlier I forgot to grab em.”

N’Jadaka quickly walked around the couch, found his shoes, and dipped. When he left, Ashanti lifted her head then her whole body from his lap. He looked like a sad puppy when she left his embrace, missing her warmth immediately.

“It’s late, I should g-”

“Stay, please. It is late and I have a whole ‘king size’ bed you can have to yourself.” T’Challa almost begged her. She pulled him up and off the couch, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his jaw. She could hear the song they were listening to before they left his quarters playing in her head.

Sorry I left you

Left you cryin

But since you've been gone

I've been all alone

'Cause all of my tears

You know they left me drownin

Please baby I'm beggin

For you to stay at home

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can be more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

“You don't have to give up your bed, that I’m sure is the most comfortable thing in all of Wakanda. ‘I only bite when you want me to’,” Ashanti teased, throwing his own words back at him.

“So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay. I’m too tired to go anywhere anyways, I can barely- T’Challa!” she squealed as he picked her up bridal style. She clung to his neck and laid her head on his chest, too tired to fight him on it. She nuzzled into his neck as they rode the elevator back up to the top floor.

She was so tired she almost fell asleep again on the ride up, but the automated voice letting them know they had arrived woke her from her half-slumber.

“This man is just too damn comfortable,” she thought to herself. “He smells good, he’s warm...”

Just as she was sinking back into her relaxed state he placed her down at the foot of the bed.

“All I have for you to sleep in are my clothes, if that’s alright with you.”

“It is.” she smiled wide then started to take off her jewelry.

The king watched her from above in his standing position and stopped her from reaching for her shoe buckle.

“Here, let me,” he said softly before sinking down to one knee and pulling her foot into his lap. He unbuckled her sandal and pulled it off before kissing her ankle, and he did the same on the other side. Her eyes hung low with lust and fatigue, but she was laser-focused on him, trying to figure out how he knew that was her spot.

“Um, T’Ch-Challa?”

“Hm?”

“We should, um-”

“Yes, I’ll be back,” he cleared his throat and stood before turning and disappearing into what Ashanti assumed was his closet when he emerged with an Oxford t-shirt. “I already had the staff bring you a toothbrush and toothpaste, a silk scarf, black soap, and shea butter for your beauty and hygeine needs. They’re, uh, on the sink in the bathroom there.”

“Thank you, T’Challa,” she said with a soft voice.

“Don’t say my name like that if you want to sleep tonight. You’ve been warned.”

She jumped up from the bed and scurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower. After she came out, he went in, taking a much quicker shower and emerging from the bathroom in nothing but a towel while Ashanti slid on her nightgown for the night. She didn't notice him at first, but he noticed her thick brown legs peeking out from his old college t-shirt and his towel jumped. By the time Ashanti realized he was even in the room, he had turned to go to his closet to pick out something to wear to bed. The king usually slept naked, but he had a couple of sleepwear options just in case. He slid on a pair of black silk pajama pants and padded back out to the bedroom.

Ashanti was climbing under the covers on his side of the bed, so he scooped her up and placed her gently on the left. He pulled back the covers for her and she slid under, then he climbed in bed on top of her and kissed her forehead before rolling off her to the other side of the bed. She couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

“Goodnight Ashanti.”

“Goodnight T’Challa,” she lightly pecked his lips then snuggled down into the covers. She was right about it being the most comfortable bed in the world, and she fell asleep almost instantly. T’Challa stayed up a short while watching her sleep before exhaustion overtook him as well.

Throughout the night Ashanti kept moving closer and closer to T’Challa until she ended up wrapped around him. Her leg was thrown over his side and his arm had come down to hold it in place while his other arm tucked around her midsection. When she eventually tried to roll away, his arms wouldn’t let go, but instead he rolled with her, spooning her from behind.

They spent the rest of the night connected, both physically and mentally, each dreaming of the other.

When morning came, T’Challa was the first to arise, in more ways than one. His dream had been salacious and his morning wood was something fierce. He tried his best to move his pelvis away from Ashanti, but she would move with him searching for his warmth. He eventually gave up and tried to focus on anything other than his erection, landing on her braids that were tied back yet still somehow sprawled out everywhere.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he mumbled, the rumble in his chest waking her from her resting state. Her hand came up and caressed the arm that held her tight around her midsection, intertwining their fingers and turning around to face him, placing his arm back around her.

“Good morning beautiful,” he said grinning from ear to ear. Ashanti nearly melted at his husky morning voice. She wanted to hear it more often.

“Good morning your highness,” she giggled as he growled and tickled her sides.

“What did I tell you about that?”

“N-nothing, my warning was about your name!” she got out between laughs. In all her struggling to get out of his grasp she somehow wiggle her way back on her other side to escape the bed, only to be pulled back into the grasp of the Black Panther. When he pulled her into him he had forgotten about his situation, but she quickly became aware of his hard dick.

“I am sorry-”

“Don’t be,” she said as she grinded her hips into his, his dick resting comfortably between her cheeks.

“Mmm, Ashanti you’re playing with fire.”

She turned back to look at him as her hips moved round and round.

“Burn me, then.” She reached out to pull his face into hers but he resisted.

“Do you have to work today?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then not today. I want to take my time with you, plus you’ll need more than a couple hours to walk again.”

His threat did nothing but rev her up more.

“It is good to know you like morning sex, though. I’ll keep that in mind,” he teased.

Ashanti rolled towards the edge of the bed and threw her legs over the side. He looked at her with concern, but when she looked back all he saw was lust.

“I can’t lay next to you then, it’s too tempting.”

“‘It’ as in…?” T’Challa pointed down his body.

“Yes! I saw that monster at the lake, keep it away from me unless you plan on doing something with it.”

T’Challa chuckled.

“I can respect that,” he got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it, tentatively, and followed him out to the patio. He pointed to her left at the rising sun and her mouth fell open when she turned around and took in the sight before her. The sunrise over Wakanda was even more beautiful from this height. She leaned into his shoulder and he kissed her forehead. The two of them stood like that for at least 15 minutes, just enjoying each other’s company.

_________________

Ashanti knew her roommates would give her shit for coming home at this hour wearing the same clothes she left in, but what she didn't expect was a damn welcome party.

“Oh my Bast, there she is. Tell us everything!” Binta screamed as Kwame rounded the table to attack her with a hug. He pulled back and took in her appearance.

“Why do you look so well-rested? You're supposed to be crawling right now,” he said, checking for bags under her eyes. “You're too put together. Spill!”

“Ok ok, damn. Can I get comfortable first before I tell you the story? Can I do that?”

“She’s too feisty, she didn't get any,” Binta whispered to her twin brother.

Ashanti shot them both a deadly glare on her way up the stairs to go change.

She made it to her room and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. That comfortable bed and that comfortable man really had her looking more rested than she had in months. She quickly changed into sweats and a tank top before heading back downstairs to face her roommates.

She jogged down the steps, remembering she missed her morning run, and found them still in the kitchen digging into breakfast. She watched as they piled their plates high, and sat down while they enjoyed their breakfast.

“Ok girl, so tell us about the date and why you didn't come home until 8am.”

“So…,” she started as the twins leaned in. “The date was a picnic at some private lake. It was beautiful, and he cooked u-”

“The king can cook?!” Binta gasped.

“That's what I said! But yeah girl, he cooked us a whole caribbean meal because he knows how much I love the Lost Tribe and their cultures- by the way, have you heard of Jodeci? Anyways, we can come back to that. So we’re talking and flirting and we combined our favorite songs into one playlist, and vibed out talking about the music...then we went for a swim-”

“A swim? You got naked in front of the king?” Kwame asked, staring at her with accusatory eyes.

“More importantly, did he get naked? Tell me about the strength of the Black Panther, honey.”

“Chiiiiiiile, that man was carved by Bast, straight out of Mount Bashenga itself.”

Kwame and Binta swooned, he was the first to get it together and get back to the conversation at hand.

“Alright, so what happened next? You fuck by the lake?”

“No we made out in the lake...then went back to the palace-”

“The palace?!”

“The palace?!” the twins said in total shock from the new bit of information.

“The palace, friends...and I ended up meeting the royal family on accident,” Ashanti watched her roommates’ eyes widen with every word, worried they’d pop out of their heads in a minute. “The Queen Mother and Princess Shuri complimented my designs, and we all fell asleep in the living room watching a Black American romance movie called ‘Love Jones’. Then when I woke up he asked me to stay…”

“Ok and you obviously did, so how many times did you get that back blown out?”

Ashanti chuckled at their impending let-down.

“Zero.”

“You expect us to believe- so you just slept there?”

“Mhm, in his bed...with him...all cuddled up. Then this morning we watched the sunrise over Wakanda and he made me breakfast. Woo, I almost fainted watching that man in the kitchen.”

They could catch flies, their mouths were open so wide.

“So let me get this straight...you had a romantic date with the king, made out naked in a private lake, he took you back to the palace to meet his fami-” Binta began.

“No, that was an accident. Carry on.”

“Ok whatever, so you run into his family, hang out with them, and then stay the night, had a romantic morning after, and at no time did you two get it in?! I don’t have your self control because, baby, I would’ve fucked that man in that lake.”

“I almost did, but my nerves kept getting in the way…”

“Oh honey, that’s ok. When’s the next date?” Kwame asked her.

A slow smile crept up Ashanti’s face and her eyes glazed over thinking about seeing T’Challa again.

“He has to go out of the country for the next week or so, but whenever he gets back I invited him over for me to return the favor and cook for him. You two need to make yourself scarce though.”

“That’s fine with me, I started seeing this hot mining tribe guy. Girl, he’s so strong from all that hard labor...woo,” Kwame fanned himself.

“And I have an open invitation to stay with Kiki, so I’ll go catch up with her while you catch that Black Panther dick.”

“Thanks,” Ashanti giggled out. Her friends were always so supportive of her, especially when dick was involved. They had been trying to get her back in the dating world for the last two years, but she had been so wrapped up in work that she barely had time for anything or anyone else. Her last relationship was short-lived and ended because her shop always came first. He was a good guy, but the sex was just alright. Before him was a manipulative piece of shit she stayed with for 3 years because she thought it was love, who cared more about his release than hers. Every man she’s ever dated left her either heartbroken or orgasm-less, and for years she wanted nothing more than to feel what she’s feeling for the king. Her friends knew she hadn't really had a proper dick-down and had made it their personal missions to get the cobwebs knocked off her pussy. The Black Panther seemed like the perfect candidate.

“So, wow...the king?” Binta was still processing the information.

“You had to kiss a lot of frogs, but look at you now!” Kwame chimed in.

__________

When Ashanti got to her shop, she was met with the sight of an enormous bouquet on her stoop. She immediately knew who it was from, and one look across the street at her parents outside their restaurant told her that they knew too.

“It was dropped off about an hour ago.” Chidi said loudly as he crossed the street towards his daughter to get a look at the flowers. It was a large bouquet of violets, her favorite.

“They’re beautiful,” Ashanti said with a goofy smile on her face. “Help me move this inside before they draw any more attention?” She and her dad brought the violets in and set them on her counter by the register. She stood back to admire them once more.

“So I take it the date went well?” Bisa asked her daughter, causing Chidi to roll his eyes and exit the shop while blowing his daughter a kiss.

“Mama, it was amazing! We already planned a second date for when he gets back in town.” Ashanti was giddy like a schoolgirl having her first crush as she told her mother the PG version of her date.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, baby!” Bisa pulled her in fora hug and kissed her forehead. “He sounds like a good man.”

“That he is.”

The two spoke for a little while longer before saying a quick goodbye and parting to tend to their respective businesses. When Ashanti was alone she let out a loud sigh, staring at the beautiful flowers from her suitor. She picked up the card and read his note.

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.

See you soon,

She held the note close to her chest and rocked on her heels, letting the feeling of a crush overcome her. She reached down and tweaked her beads, causing their playlist to pull up and shuffle. Of course this was one of those times when the shuffle feature seemed to read her mind, and what she referred to as ‘their song’ from here on out began to play. She swayed along, remembering the feel of his hands on her body. His warm, large, strong hands...

So here we are

Just me and you

We're thinkin of the things

That we used to do babe

Tonight is yours, lady

Yours and mine

Let's try again to put our trust on the line, yeah

Tonight

Let's start our love again

Tonight

We can more than just friends

Don't you know

The sun

Is going down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

Throughout the day her mind flashed back to the night before, missing the feel of his lips, the smell of his skin, and those deep dark eyes that became black holes when he was all worked up.

It was a busy day at the shop. A group of kids had come in for a pottery class in the back, and her jewelry was flying off the shelves. The art supply customers weren’t in short supply either, and she thought about finally hiring some help. Just as she finished dealing with a rush of customers and closed up the shop for her lunch break, her kimoyo beads dinged. She took a look and smiled at the name.

T: I miss you already.

She couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

A: I miss you too. How are the Avengers?

T: A pain, as usual. All they do is argue with each other, I could get most of this done by myself. How was the shop today?

A: The busiest I think it’s ever been! I’m pretty sure I have your sister to thank for that. I’ll have to hire employees if it continues on like this.

T: I can’t believe you’ve been doing all of that by yourself. Oh by the way did you get my gift?

She looked over at the violets on the counter and bit her lip.

A: I did! How did you know violets were my favorite?

T: I just took a wild guess.

A: Good guess…

T: I feel like I know you so well already after just the one date, tell me something I don't know about you.

A: I’ve never broken a bone before.

T: Really? I’ve broken bones more times than I can count. Thankfully with the heart shaped herb in my system, I can recover fairly quickly.

A: What was your most embarrassing moment?

The bubbles disappeared for a moment. She wasn't sure if he was thinking on it or if he had to go, but then they reappeared.

T: My sophomore year of college, I was home for winter break and my umama caught me sneaking two ladies out of the palace. She looked so disappointed in all three of us, and I felt like an antelope in headlights. Until last night that was the last time I brought anyone home, by the way.

A: Two, huh?

T: That’s what you got out of the story?

A: uh, yeah, duh.

The two went back and forth for the rest of the day before choosing to video chat that night. They laid up all night talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. There were long stretches of silence when one or the other focused on another task, but neither could bring themself to end the call. It wasn’t until Ashanti fell asleep that he even thought about hanging up, but he let the chat continue for a few more minutes while he watched her sleep peacefully.

Two weeks passed by with the king and the artist regularly texting and video chatting from across the world. They were both anxious to be back in the other’s arms, and couldn't wait for his mission with the Avengers to come to a close. It finally did, over a week past it’s supposed end date. When T’Challa broke the news to Ashanti, her face lit up like a fire. He was set to come back Tuesday night, so they planned their date for Wednesday over yet another kimoyo chat.

“So what are you making me?” T’Challa asked her in jest.

In all honesty, she hadn’t thought very much about the menu.

“It’s a surprise, mister.”

“Mister? There are so many better names you could call me-”

Sir? Daddy? Kumkani? Her mind raced through the possibilities, enjoying each one. In their kimoyo dates they both had a habit of getting frisky. Sometimes one or both of them would be naked or in some state of undress, and sometimes things escalated from simply hot to downright pornographic. Ashanti learned that the king was a dominant man with a filthy mouth who loves to watch her put on a show, with him as director of course. By day three he had Ashanti topless, sucking on her own nipples, and today she had her fingers deep in her pussy all up in the camera for him to see every drop. She wasn’t the only one on display, he had his vibranium-hard dick out in his hand, stroking from his balls to the tip of his dick, pulling back his foreskin on the way back down. When he came, she stared at the milky substance dripping over his fist and stuck out her tongue, wishing she could taste him,

“You know, if you were here I’d expect you to clean this mess up. Right, kitten?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh-uh, not sir. You know who I am, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes Kumkani.”

A wicked smile crossed his face and he chuckled lowly.

“Good girl. Are you tired already?”

“Baby I just drained myself on camera, be happy I can talk.”

“Mm, I like ‘baby’ too.”

Ashanti giggled at his one track mind, “Challa, let me get some sleep.”

“Alright, sithandwa. Sweet dreams,” he sighed then blew her a kiss. She blew one right back before cutting off the feed and laying her head down to rest, their song playing in her head.

Forget about yesterday

'Cause I want you so bad

Make love to me like you never had

My love

Is coming down

So baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Baby won't you just stay

For a little while

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa x oc #t'challa #black!oc

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btssmutficslovingfan01 · 3 years

Text

Friendly Encounters- Chapter One

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Fluff

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Domestic Yoonmin, fluff, Jimin is literally too good for this world, barista boys, swearing, mild language, lots of character development, realistic insecurities, Jungkook makes a bad decision.

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 6k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈): Jimin x Yoongi x Reader

Masterlist

Author Note: This story is available on my archiveofourown as well so go check it out!

⇤Prev | Next⇥

______________________________

“Do it.” Your friend pushes you towards the incredibly adorable busboy as he passes by your table.

“No, it’s stupid.”

“Y/N, I dared you. Now you have to do it.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s not even how dares work.” You lay back in your chair, eyes drifting over to the two handsome men who now stand talking at the cash register.

“Okay, fine, if you can’t have a conversation, at least get his number! I’ll go for that cute barista over there with the sleepy eyes.” How can eyes be sleepy? You shrug as she confidently strides to the counter to order another drink. Jasmine has always been the type of girl to tell people what she’s feeling in the heat of the moment. You had no idea where she got her confidence from, it just happened one fine summer day in sixth grade.

You’ve been best friends ever since you moved into the house across the street, along with Jaehyun and Jungkook. They are the non-identical twins that go to your school and the four of you were a group all through middle school. Things changed after highschool, Jae started hanging out with the wrong crowd and he moved out after saving up some drug money.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is still a sweetheart, protecting you and Jasmine as if you were his sisters. Sometimes you wonder how you even became friends with this meth-head of a girl, but then you realize you’re the same, you both are crackheads and that’s why you’re best friends. You sometimes doubt your friendship when she tries to push you out of your comfort zone. You hate opening up to people, and Jasmine knows it.

Yet, she still tries pushing you towards trying new things and being more extroverted. Your mind is already buzzing with a million different ways this can go wrong, but you’re surprised when the waiter approaches you with a smile on his face. I wonder if he’s truly happy or putting on a fake smile for the customers. You think to yourself. Sometimes you like to look at people and try putting together a life story for them. It helps your creative juices flow, as an amateur writer.

“Can I get you anything else?” He asks with a refreshingly soft voice for a man. You’re a bit taken aback by his melodic tone, and how freaking adorable he sounds with his Korean accent. You can’t tell what dialect it is, because his English flows very well.

“Actually…” You look over at Jasmine, who gives you a thumbs up as she sips her Pink Drink. “Can I have your number?” The man’s eyes widen momentarily and his gaze flickers up to the barista at the counter.

“Oh...Miss I’m very flattered but...see that man over there?” You turn around and face the barista who is busy on his phone at the moment.

“The sleepy-eyed one?” You ask, knowing full well where this is going.

“Yeah, him. Um, that’s my boyfriend.” Your smile falters for a moment but you feel a sudden sense of relief. You were afraid he would actually flirt back and possibly be a douchebag but he is exactly what you hoped he would be. A decent person who won’t cheat on his partner.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Your reaction makes him raise his eyebrows. Normally girls would sigh or be sad that he’s taken/gay, but you’re the first one who’s ever reacted like that. “I mean, sorry. My friend just forced me to ask for your number because she wants me to make friends and step out of my comfort zone, and now I’m...sorry just nevermind.” You trail off, cutting off your pointless rambling as the busboy wipes your table slightly.

“Hm, you’re interesting. You know what, just for that attempt, I am going to give you my number.” He winks at you, sliding you a piece of paper. Did he always have that paper with him? You laugh as he walks away and Jasmine bolts back to your table, excited to hear the juicy details.

“You did it!” She screeches, making half of the people whip their heads around to stare at you. You blush and sink in your seat when you see the adorable busboy speaking to his boyfriend. Just when you’re about to tell Jasmine what happened, you see the sleepy-eyed man look at you with a glare. You bite your teeth and suck in your cheeks as Jasmine starts talking about her encounter.

“Too bad, though. The sleepy dude just waved me away saying he already has a boyfriend.” She folds her arms. You stretch your legs, yawning a bit as you listen to your friend. “What? Am I boring you? Anyways, tell me what happened with the cute blue haired dude!” You giggle to yourself as your friend expected something more out of the interaction.

“Jasmine, he’s gay. And they’re-” You gesture to the two men talking behind the counter. “Together.” Jasmine sighs. You simply shake your head, flipping your hair to one side.

“Well, I guess my luck with men hasn’t changed. But at least they’re cute.” You giggle as your best friend sighs dramatically and then you move onto discussing other topics, like school.

Just as you’re about to exit the café, you realize that you didn’t ask the cute busboy for his name. During the whole five minutes that you talked to him, you didn’t even introduce yourself?! Great job, Y/N. You turn around, reaching for the piece of paper in your pocket to find that he indeed did write his name down for you. Jimin. What a beautiful name for a beautiful boy.

As you climb into the jeep that Jasmine’s parents bought for her 16th birthday, her phone rings, and she turns to you, puffing out her chest. You wiggle your eyebrows at her and then you both laugh after the awkward moment.

“It’s Jungkook.” She throws her phone at you, switching back to her “serious” persona.

“Whoa, what happened between you two for you to act this way?” You give Jasmine the stink eye as she caves under your pressure. She’s acting weird—weirder than usual.

“Nothing, just...ugh.” She clicks her seatbelt in and starts backing out of the parking lot.

“Jasmine, if you don’t tell me I’m gonna jump out the window. And we both know I’m not bluffing because I’m actually really short and this window is huge.” Her eyes widen in panic and her hands start shaking on the steering wheel.

“You see…..um ....Jungkook and I may or may not have gone all the way after a deep conversation about relationships.” I gawk at her, unable to process her words.

Sure JK is a flirt, but he never would’ve moved past touching, seeing how he’s practically scared of girls. There was even a point in your middle school lives where Jasmine believed he was gay and started calling him her “gbf.” Yeah, that wasn’t greatly received by your homophobic class of 2020.

“Bitch, you did not.” You slap the dashboard, shaking your head in disbelief. You can see guilt written all over her face but what’s worse is the fact that you had a crush on him for the longest time and she had no clue about it.

It’s not her fault, but sex can change a lot of things for different people. And you know despite whatever bullshit Jasmine tells you about it being a ‘one-time thing no feelings involved’ type deal, you know things are going to change between you, Jasmine, and Jungkook.

You don’t know how anyone will react, since you’ve never been in this situation before. You just know that your best friend, without even knowing it, broke your heart in two. Including Jungkook’s, who is probably crying by himself at the moment.

Your silence is enough to shut her up, as she stops talking mid-sentence and plays an EXO song on her phone, hooked up to the lavish quality stereo system which is connected to her fancy Jeep Wrangler, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine but you assume that’s from your gut, twisting in disgust planning for revenge with Jasmine. She has no regard for feelings when it comes to sex, and you’re more worried about your other best friend at the moment.

“Drop me off at JK’s place.” Your command makes her flinch, and then her eyes widen when she digests what you said.

“You aren’t going to tell him that I told you, are you?”

“Of course I’m gonna talk to him about it! While you’re over here thinking about how to end your friendship, that boy is probably breaking down in tears right now, or worse, binge eating and watching soapy K-dramas all alone!”

You slam her car door shut, stepping out with your red converse basking in the sunlight. It’s so bright out today, a little bit chilly but otherwise nice. Too bad Jungkook’s having a rainy day. You knock on his door, and his brother opens the door.

“Hey baby. Wanna join me and my buddie-”

“Yeah, nice to see you too Jaehyun, is Jungkook home?” You ask, pushing past him and his stoner pals on the couch.

“He’s upstairs.” There’s not much that needs to be said when you walk into his room.

As expected, he’s lying in his bed, blankets wrapped around his entire body, forming a cocoon of some sort as he distracts himself from the real world, again. It’s like every breakup ever, as you have seen him do all sorts of crazy shit while being heartbroken. He’s dated so many people, but none of them were his close friends. This time, it’s different, and you can tell he’s hurting more.

“Did you see Jasmine?” Is the first thing he asks when he sees you.

“I was with her earlier and she told me some stuff happened between you guys. And now I’m here for you. Tell me what you need.” Jungkook slowly rises, and you can see his hair standing straight up from the static, and his normally bright eyes are colored red from crying, his cheeks are red and puffy, and he looks exhausted. Drained, in fact.

“I made a mistake. I started kissing her first, it was like the time after my breakup with Madi-” He cuts himself off. You shiver, beginning to remember his touch. You hadn’t slept with him, not in a sexual context, anyway. He only kissed you, and his hands slid down the small of your back, tracing circles with his thumbs. You can feel the strange sensation creeping up on you, and then it hits you like a wave.

Jungkook is no longer the little boy that you once knew. He’s a grown man, and he can take care of you if you let him. But, you’re not that type of person. You would never take advantage of him, especially when he’s so vulnerable. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let it get in the way of our friendship, but after that night I knew we could never be just friends.” You take his clammy hands in your soft ones, kissing his fingers gently as tears threaten to spill from his eyes again.

“It’s okay, let it out.” You spend a good chunk of your time cuddling with him, and for a moment you imagine what life would be like if you actually started dating, but alas, he is too in love with your best friend. That’s how life is for you, you’ll always be a side character in a love story, and when it comes to love, guys always pick Jasmine. Guys talk to you because they see that you are friends with Jasmine. Girls invite you to sleepovers to ask you what you know about Jasmine, and worst of all, she stole multiple crushes from under your nose. But they were never truly yours to begin with.

After arriving at your house after a long day spent consoling Jungkook, youlop down on your bed, scrolling through some texts.

༻• The Next Day, at Your Local Highschool •༺

“Jungkookie, are you feeling any better?” You make your way to your best friend but then you overhear him speaking to some people.

“Oh yeah, she was the best in bed, don’t let her tough smart-girl act fool you, she was amazing, so submissive for me.” You hoped they were talking about someone else, but when you stick your head past the lockers, checking for a split second, you see that it was none other than your sensitive friend who was speaking to a group of younger males.

“Wow, you’re so cool, Hyung. I thought Y/N was the hardest girl to pin down.” Wait, what?! You resist the urge to storm out, eavesdropping a bit longer to see if you misheard things.

“Yeah boys, she came to me while I was playing Overwatch in my room and then she offered. Just straight up asked if I could fuck her.” You slam your fist against a locker and then you clench your teeth, about to confront him when the bell rings.

It’s 5th period. You don’t have a class because you have a release period. You instinctively check your phone, making sure you didn’t miss any important texts or calls before running out. You don’t know who to trust, or who to go to, as you lost your two best friends within the span of less than 24 hours. People suck.

Then you get a text, as you park your car in front of the coffee shop.

You don’t text back, hoping to surprise him. You forgot to ask him about his work hours but you assumed he worked part-time everyday or something. As you walk up to the counter, you see him standing there, with a bright smile on his lips and crescent-shaped eyes.

“Ah, what a surprise! Hello, valued customer.” His playful attitude is enough to light up your day.

“Hey Jimin. Sorry for dropping in but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, c-can we talk?” You stutter, not realizing you were slurring your words together. Jimin nods, obviously worried about his new friend.

“What happened yesterday?” He takes you to the back of the café, an area where there are less people and you have more privacy.

“You know the friend that was here with me yesterday?” He nods, allowing you to grip his hand and squeeze it for comfort. He’s a really kind person, letting you open up to him without judgement. “She slept with another good friend of mine and ghosted him. And yesterday I went to his house and we talked about it and he cried on my shoulder, but today…”

You feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “...He was talking about what a good lay I was, lying about sleeping with me to a group of underclassmen.”

Your breathing is uneven as Jimin stares directly at you, keeping his gaze strictly on you. You feel naked, exposed, and vulnerable. But his reassuring smile makes you feel a little bit better. Just a little bit.

“Hey, break’s over, get out there.” You see the same man from yesterday, the guy who Jimin claimed was his boyfriend. He looks like the polar opposite of your mellow friend, with a darker aura radiating from him.

You feel like a deer under a lion’s gaze, as he closes in on you, backing you into your corner, making you feel even more vulnerable than before.

You only hoped he wouldn’t try to chase you away, as yesterday he gave you a very uncouth glare, displaying his annoyance with your friendship with Jimin.

You hope with time he will be able to accept you and possibly become a friend of yours as well, but for now, you can only run with your tail tucked between your legs. Just as you’d been running away from your so-called best friends in school.

You were even considering running to Jaehyun and trying one of his edibles, since he had offered a generous amount of times; it would only be courteous of you to finally accept and try it, as you’d been hearing “don’t try it, don’t try it,” your whole life.

You don’t care anymore, and hopefully under Jimin’s wing you will be able to learn about true friendship.

“Aren’t you the girl who asked for Jimin’s number yesterday?” His surprisingly solemn tone catches you off guard, as his eyes tell another story. Maybe that’s just the way he is, physically a very intimidating person but on the inside he might be a fluffy kitten! Okay, maybe not a total kitten, but still squishy. Why else would Jimin date him? He has to be a decent person, unlike all the people you called your friends.

“I am, thanks for noticing. Is there anything you wanted to tell me?” You try to sound as non-threatening as possible, holding your breath, waiting for an answer. You hoped Yoongi didn’t see you as a boyfriend-stealer, nor a generally annoying person.

“No, just wanted to ask you if you need anything else, an iced coffee, some tea...pink lemonade?” His lame attempt at cheering you up makes you crack a smile after a while.

“Maybe some water? I’m a little bit thirsty.”

“Coming right up,” After filling up a glass with water, he slides into the seat across from you, whipping out his phone and humming a tune of a familiar song you recognized from the radio. “I’m on break. This time of the day, things get a bit slow.” You nod in understanding, respectfully keeping your legs crossed and your arms folded in your lap, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.

“What song are you listening to?” You ask, hoping to make some small talk.

“Uncomfortable by Chase Atlantic. It’s my go-to after a stressful day.” You shift in your seat when you hear that name. You absolutely adore that band, and the lead singer’s vocals are absolutely heavenly. You could go on for hours, but you don’t want him to know that yet.

“Oh, that’s...cool I guess.” You try not to jump

up and down in joy as that’s a lesser known band and not very many people know about them.

“Do you know this song?” He leans forward, sliding you his phone and showing you the cover of an old album, one you recognize to be “Don’t Try This,” and the song is GREENGREENGREEN. Their song titles are a bit questionable, but they are true works of art, so you can let it pass.

“I suppose I’ve heard it once or twice…” You trail off, watching how the curve of his smooth lips turn upwards, and carefully, you watch how he mouths the words.

“All I see is green yuh

Moving on your seat yuh yuh yuh

All I see is green, All I see is green, All I see is green.” You smirk, slowly singing the next part.

“It's green where the grass grows

Let the cash flow

You can keep your head high, keep that ass low,” You laugh, the man across from you grinning at how weirdly you sang the lyrics.

You and Yoongi continue listening to Chase Atlantic songs together late into the evening hours. It’s around seven in the evening and the air is cool and humid.

“You have amazing taste in music, I’ve never met anyone else who listens to Chase Atlantic with such passion! Jimin’s an Alec Benjamin person but I always tell him they have similar music styles…” He trails off suddenly, worrying you with the pace of his cutoff. “Listen, I had a lot of fun talking to you. And at first I really didn’t get why Jimin wanted to get to know you better but now I see what he saw. You’re cool, Y/N.” You’re more surprised he remembered your name.

“Thanks Yoongi.” You share a moment of silence, just smiling at each other as Jimin makes his way back to your table.

“It’s time for me to clock out, we’re closing soon.” He slides into the seat across from you, next to Yoongi, and you watch as Yoongi expertly sneaks his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder, and you feel small fireworks bursting in your heart. It’s not a weird feeling of jealousy, per say, but rather you feel mellow. You like seeing them together. You like this.

“Feels like just yesterday I walked in here and you gave me black coffee instead of an iced vanilla mocha because you were distracted by my sexiness.” Jimin girlishly flips his hair, and the three of you share a laugh before the lights start flickering.

“What’s going on?”

“Looks like there’s something wrong with the power. Jin!!! Did you mess with the electrical again?!” Yoongi runs back inside the kitchen, making sure everything is fine.

“We’re good, just a minor fix,” you hear the voice of another man from inside. You and Jimin exchange worried looks as the lights stay on for a total of 1.032342352 seconds and then they just turn off completely.

“Dammit, stupid thunderstorm outside caused a power outage through town.” You heard Yoongi cursing from the kitchen before he opened the door and stumbled outside back to you.

“Well, when are the lights gonna come back on?” You ask, clutching onto the table as you sink back on the wooden surface.

“News reports say power lines are under service and will be back in function in an hour.” Jimin shows you the article, making you shiver from the thought of spending the night at the café. You most probably won’t have to do that, since your car is right outside and you can just drive home. But do you really want to face your neighbors after a really tough day of school? No. Your bets are that they will probably try to infiltrate your home, failing are trying to “make it up to you.” You’ve lost any trust you had in them before, Jungkook and Jasmine really screwed up this time.

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jimin sounds steady, but you can faintly see the outline of his striped shirt and how his muscles contract as he shivers right in front of you. You admire him for putting up the dauntless act, but it doesn’t help as the sound of his teeth clashing give it all away.

“Here, take my jacket. I’m not that cold.” You offer him your coat and he hesitantly slips it over his shoulders. He doesn’t wear it, afraid of stretching out the expensive material and risking threat or wearing it out.

“Thanks.”

“Hey guys, can you come in here please? We need help with the door.” You and Jimin carefully make your way to the pantry, which is at a door at the end of the kitchen. You’d never been inside one in a restaurant, but you assumed it was the same as your school. The kitchen was the darkest room, but thanks to the dim lighting from Jimin’s phone, you safely arrived at the end of the path.

“What are you doing now?” You see a second man, taller than Yoongi and Jimin combined, holding a large box.

“We’re just taking this inside. This stuff is smelly, so we make sure they stay sealed in the pantry until we need them,” The older man has a charming smile, and you can already tell he is a gentleman. He looks a little bit older than you, but you can tell by his mannerisms that he’s a bit older. “And hi, I’m Jin.” He introduces himself, winking at you as he walks past, with Yoongi rolling his eyes at the lame flirting attempt. You thought it was cute.

“Coming through! Move over babe.” Yoongi warns Jimin, who holds the door open while you watch over his shoulder, making sure he doesn’t fall back. Not that you will be of any help.

“Oh crap, I think I forgot something in the kitchen!” You and Jimin make your way into the pantry, shrugging at the way Jin quickly left his post.

“So...what’s exactly in the box?” Your curiosity seems to know no limits as you keep asking questions, over and over again. Yoongi and Jimin, however, find it amusing.

“Vinaigrette. All the same type, same brand.” Yoongi dusts his hands and walks back to the closed door, wrapping his fingers around the cool metal knob before turning it….to find that it doesn’t open.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Jimin asks, wrapping your jacket around him more tightly. You sigh at his adorable pout. But of course, you try to ignore their moment, focusing on your phone instead. Your battery is at 8% already, and you need to save as much power as you can. However, you also need to distract yourself.

“It won’t open.” You stand up. You’ve hated small spaces since you were a little girl and you refuse to get stuck in a food pantry with two insanely attractive men. What if you run out of oxygen? It’s not them, it’s you.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Yoongi notices your mini panic attack, as you pant heavily, now looking for some sort of opening to crawl through. You need to escape.

“I need to get out!” You shudder as the dim lighting of your phone suddenly disappears. Your phone just died. What the fuck are you going to do now?!

“We’re fine, we just need to call Jin,” Yoongi knocks on the door, and you all stay quiet to hear any feedback. What you didn’t know was that Jin had gone out to run errands and he wouldn’t be back until much later.

“Let me text him.” Luckily, Jimin’s phone has enough power to send one text. Jin replies quickly, telling Jimin that he’ll be back in half an hour, maybe even later because of the horrible weather.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck here for awhile.” Yoongi sits down on the floor first, making himself comfortable between two flour bags. You and Jimin make yourselves comfortable on the floor, shrugging as you snuggle into some things but the lights are off so you have no idea where you’re sitting. Your eyes are adjusted to the darkness, so you can see the faint outlines in the pitch darkness.

Then you think of all the things that happened today. How you overheard Jungkook telling people lies, and how heartlessly Jasmine let go of him (even though he partially deserved it), and all of the lies and betrayal. Jasmine has cheated on a lot of her past boyfriends, but for some reason you thought she would treat Jungkook differently. And Jungkook just cares about fitting in. You wish you could forget it all and go back to being friends, but you are just so, so sad. They broke your heart. You don’t know if you can trust anyone else ever again. You silently sob, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

But your stupid sniffles give you away.

“Are you..crying?” Jimin asks after a long silence.

“No…” You wipe your tears and turn to his voice.

“Tell us what’s wrong.” Yoongi’s warmth creates an almost suffocating feeling in the air as your breathing falters and you feel very disconnected from your environment. You can’t even tell if your eyes are open or not because of how long you’ve been trapped. It’s driving you mad. The only thing keeping you sane are the two men sitting in front of you...or behind you. You can’t tell anymore.

“I just want my friends back. And I want to believe that everything will be alright but lately...everything’s been horrible! Life just keeps throwing one obstacle after another and I just want to believe that everything will be okay but it isn’t! My best friend slept with my other best friend and now everything’s weird between the three of us, and my other friend decided to tell everyone that we’re screwing. I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! Everything is spiraling out of control and I can’t do shit,” You breathe heavily and silence follows, as the boys allow you to catch your breath, not inputting anything just yet. “Thanks for letting me rant. I just needed to let that out, I guess.” You bite your bottom lip, and you can smell the anticipation in the air as the boys wait for their turn to speak.

Oh wow, now you’ve robbed them of their words. Aren’t you the best friend ever.

“Can I say something?” Jimin waits for a moment before dictating his thoughts, “It sounds like you were just thrown into a random mess that had nothing to do with you directly.” He says, earning a cough from Yoongi. Luckily, the sleepy-eyed man is kind enough to cough in his sleeve (ugh corona) and he says, “I agree with Jimin. And that guy sounds like a bitch boy. I’m pretty sure he’s one of those coconut headed e-boy wannabes. Or just a plain fuckboy.” You scrunch your nose. “Jungkook isn’t like that.”

“Oh, with a name like that he’s bound to have a talent. Maybe he dances really well? Lemme guess, he’s a really good singer but is as shy as a goat.” You didn’t know goats were shy. Yoongi seems knowledgeable, so you don’t question him.

“He’s a good singer, alright, but he wants to be a progamer when he graduates.” You reveal it to them, all of a sudden going off on a tangent about your childhood crush and best friend.

“It sounds like you guys are close,” Jimin whispers in a hushed voice, so quietly that you almost miss him. “And from what I can tell, he’s insecure and wants people to think he’s cool. So he used you, as stupid as it was, I think he’s worth fighting for.” You feel a sudden lightness in your chest, like you just confessed something you felt guilty about. It’s as if he’s in your head, and he understands exactly what you’re going through.

“Jimin and I actually got together because of a misunderstanding in the first place, if he hadn’t fought for us, who knows where he might’ve ended up?” You can’t see what Jimin does exactly, but you assume that his face is scrunched up into a cute cringe of sorts, anything that man does is adorable.

“My parents would’ve forced me to become a pastor. They aren’t exactly the most open-minded people...coming out to them was the hardest thing I ever did. And luckily, Yoongi was with me all through the process after they disowned me and threw me out of the house. I guess I lost my biological family but I ended up with something even better.” You feel your lips turn upward, the first feeling you’ve experienced since sadness. You feel hopeful, and happy that the two men can freely be together without judgement from those around them.

You feel slightly jealous as well, since their relationship worked out and yours with Jungkook are in shambles. Maybe it’s not too late to fix this, but seeing as he hadn’t even sent you as much as a “Good morning” text, you decided it was better to leave him alone for now. The darkness is not only making you blind; it’s making you unempathetic. You do feel a bit of fear though, as the sense of not knowing what else might be in here with you is overwhelming and you literally want to curl into a ball and cry. “Your breathing is heavy again...are you okay?” Yoongi’s voice soothes you as you slowly recover from the mini-panic attack. You don’t know if you can take it anymore.

“Sorry, I’m just a little claustrophobic.” You hear some shifting as Yoongi makes himself more comfortable.

“Oh shit, I forgot about Jin,” Jimin pulls out his phone, as it vibrates with a text. Your vision is blurry, but you can see his face with the help of the dim light from his device. “Jin said he’s running late in traffic. We might be stuck for a little longer.” You snap, reaching for the closest thing to you, standing up on your two wobbly legs.

“I can’t do this! I’m going crazy, I need to get out! Anything...away….can’t breathe!” You start taking deep breaths, slightly embarrassed at showing the two boys you barely know your weak side. Of course, they are absolute sweethearts about it.

“Honja jjujeo anja

Saenggag man keojyeoga

Eonjebuteo neon nal apeuge haessdeonga

Neo jochado moreujanha,” He slowly makes his way behind you, snaking his arms around your shoulders in a very intimate manner.

“Neodo apeujanha 'cause you’re mine

I just want to blow your mind

Ireohge neon tto meoleojyeo man ganeunde,” You close your eyes and sink into his embrace, swaying in a movement that could only be described as heaven. His voice is heaven.

“I want you to be your light, baby

You should be your light

Deoneun apeuji anhge

Nega useul su issge

I want you to be your night, baby

You could be your night

Ibami neoege soljighal su issge…” He trails off, leaving you feeling speechless from listening to his honey-like voice. The song is also new, something you’ve never heard. You clap, astounded by his vocals.

“That was amazing!!! Thank you so much for doing that.” You can almost picture the cute blush on his cheeks as you praise him, but you aren’t going to let him know that.

“No problem.” As you both share a moment, Yoongi finds a supposed way out.

“Look, there’s a duct back here. Should one of us go through and see if they can let the others out?” You and Jimin share a look of suspicion but you volunteer anyways.

“I guess I’ll do it. Seems logical.” You get to your hands and feet, and Jimin gives you his phone, tenderly. There’s a gentleness in his eyes and through the blinding light of the flashlight on his phone, you could see his pupils dilate slightly. For a moment, it’s just you and him, as the rest of the world fades to black. You snap out of your daze when Yoongi coughs into his arm again, and you prepare to crawl into a dusty duct that’s been closed for decades.

You eventually find an exit, and you’re surprised at how long Jimin’s battery life was. It was only at 49%, despite him using his phone for half the time you were together. He must’ve charged it to the full 100%. You find a screw loose on another duct, opening it with ease and slipping into the kitchen. And then when you shine your flashlight, you realize your location.

You quickly run to the locked door and find that opening it from the outside is a piece of cake. The two men are thankful, but they still complain about the power. Jimin texts Jin that all of you got out, and he just tells you to go home.

The time is about 9:41, 2 hours later than you’d hoped to go home. Nonetheless, you had fun spilling your heart to these two wonderful men. You’ve never felt so close with a pair of strangers, but you can tell these two will become an important part of your life very soon.

༻• At your House •༺

“Where were you?” Your mother yells as you walk through the door, and you put your bag on the floor, flopping face down on the couch.

“I was at a café but then there was a power outage and I got stuck in a food pantry.” You nonchalantly tilt your head upwards at your mom, as her look of anger changes into one of worry.

“How did you get out?” She asks, bringing you a cheese sandwich. You plug in your phone upside down, but it’s okay because you can see the logo pop up after a minute.

“I crawled through a duct. It was fun but dusty. Oh, sorry for not texting you. My phone died.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Y/N...is there something you’re not telling me?” You fold your arms, whining like a baby. “Was there someone else with you?” You nod, not wanting to tell your mom in detail. “Okay, I’m not gonna ask any more questions. But earlier Jungkook came by, he wanted to talk to you in person. After he left, Jasmine dropped by an hour ago, saying she wanted to see you too. Did something happen between the three of you?” You sigh, turning right-side up on the couch, resting your head on your mother’s shoulder.

“Mom, can I please just go to bed? I don’t feel so good.” Instead of pestering you to tell her, she complies with your wishes, leaving you alone to go into the kitchen.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I started renting the top floor of our house to two nice young men. They’ll stay with us, and we can get money.” You raise your eyebrows at her, not believing her fully. Your mom was never the type of person to do that. You had suggested it in the past, but she had never fully gone through with plans before. Especially big ones.

“And why did you agree to it?”

“Because they are so charming, Y/N, when I put the ad up, they immediately responded, saying that they’d do all the housework and help cook, and take care of the house as if it was theirs, even though they are paying to stay in one room.” You grab your backpack and make your way upstairs. After finishing your nighttime routine, you tuck yourself in and retire for the night.

You wake up with the sudden urge to pee. So, you run to the bathroom only to find a very unexpected sight. The same man with the crescent shaped eyes when he smiles is standing in your bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“J-Jimin?” He turns his head, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I live here!”

“Me too!” Dear God, what has your mother done?

#jimin #yoongi #jungkook #reader #cafeau #barista #bts #yoonmin #yoonmin x reader #Poly #fluff #cute #high school

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seancekitsch · 4 years

Text

Prize Buck

I’m out of my hiatus. I was asked for Klaus Headcanons, wrote a smut fic after work today instead whoops

A/N: drug use, addiction, oral(m/f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit folx), female or nb afab reader, thinking sad thoughts while doing sexy things, sorta sub!Klaus, mental health issues, roughness, unedited, i added a line that only makes sense if you read the comics

———————————————

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done this? You?” Klaus asks, bringing the bowl and the lighter closer to you. You hadn’t, in honesty. You were the worlds most casual of casual stoners. You’d roll a joint if the mood struck you; meticulously crafted and thin for the perfect little heady time. Or you’d take a hit from a bong at a friends house, only if they offered to smoke you out. Really though, weed wasn’t your thing, it just had to become a part of the routine now because there weren’t other options. You couldn’t get your normal poison, amphetamines, so feeling uncontrollably sluggish instead of uncontrollably wired was the new normal.

A non-committal head shake was all you could offer. He was right to be incredulous at that revelation. You had met in rehab, for god’s sake. Klaus had, no HAS, a lot of problems, some you watched him scream and sweat through during his first week in the room across the hall from you. You were the one that he woke up constantly, because your crash left you near coma and crying when you were conscious. Despite making your recovery hell, he was the only one you could talk to when the tears subsided. Before rehab, you were a a published scholar at the height of your career, working with a newly discovered artifact from an anthropology dig. You’d spent your career hopped up on all of the meds you could find, culminating this research, staying up for thirteen days before having a breakdown in which you break the artifact from shaking so hard and crash your car fleeing the research center with your writing.

Weed was new. It was never your thing. But Klaus was new too, and he was your thing. You’d become fast friends in group therapy sessions, and inseparable out of them. It was unorthodox and frowned upon, but you became roommates once you’d gotten out. Just a small studio above a shop. A couch and a mattress that you’d switch off sleeping on, or you’d just both crash on the flood a hairs breadth away from snuggling. But it was the option that worked. You’d both confided that true sobriety wasn’t an option. So instead of anything hard, it was weed and alcohol. This was something that wouldn’t kill you or get you sent back. Controllable. And maybe one day you’d be able to go into a different field. Get an apartment with an actual bedroom. Maybe he could be able to shut out some of his power. But for now, this is what would work. It was a transition that made sense to you.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never shotgunned a bowl. Don’t all the great writers have their little parties where they smoke each other out? Isn’t that how Mary and Percy had that orgy with Lord Byron?” You wanted to correct him that you were a disgraced anthropologist, not a writer, but his warm thigh nudging yours reminds you now isn’t really the time. You give a weak smile instead.

“I guess since you’re the only person I smoke with, you’d be the only person to shotgun me.” He scooches closer to you, earthy scent already working wonders to entrance you. You wonder if he knew he had this effect on your mind and body.

“So you’ll let me shoot you now?” He asks. You smile, a little anxious, a little toothy.

“Shoot me? What am I, a ten point buck?”

There’s going to be a great feat of self control to keep yourself from jumping the curly haired man next to you, and self control is not one of your strong suits. You were head over heels in lust with Klaus and you didn’t even know if he was into women.

He begins with an unceremonious prodding at the fresh ground bud in the glass bowl with his pinky. Then he flicks the gas station lighter once. Twice. A spark. The flame dips into the bowl and there’s a soft crackle that’s accompanied and fueled by Klaus’ plump lips wrapping around the head of the pipe. It’s almost obscene to look at and you find yourself shifting uncomfortably. Well, not uncomfortably, but not in a way that’s appropriate for this setting. There’s probably more than a slight chance Klaus knows you’re aroused, but he’s being polite about it. Even now, as his lungs are filling up with smoke, and he’s puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk, there’s this ebbing and throbbing between your legs.

And now, for the shotgun itself. You know he’s blowing all the smoke in his body into your mouth, but the last thing you expect is how it feels to actually have his lips on yours. At first he’s methodical, a slow diaphragm push of smoke into your mouth, your lips parted slightly and drinking in the smoke as it comes. But no, that’s not enough; not giving Klaus enough access to deliver the goods. He makes quick work of parting your lips further by a harsh squeeze to your jaw. The way the smoke and his tongue invade your mouth does nothing to help curb the lack of self control you possess as you moan wantonly into the kiss. The shotgun. You could be addicted to this alone.

By the time he pulls away, you feel like a balloon in that you’re floating, and the hand you have securely placed on your roommates thigh is the only thing keeping you from floating out the window and into some electrical wires or into a tree for birds to choke to death on. You start low, reddened eyes looking from your hand on his thigh, up to his chest. Klaus’ chest is almost always bare. His arms and the muscles of his abdomen were littered with the odd scar and tattoo here and there. He told you they’re from fighting in Vietnam in the 1960s and France in the 1400s. When he said it, he was so earnest you could do nothing but believe him. Then your eyes travel a little more north, to his lips. He needs a shave; his mustache and his chin getting a bit too scraggly, but they tickled when you came together for the smoke. And then you finally meet his eyes, unabashed that you just drank him in like lemonade. His pupils are blown wide when you finally look into them; not something weed would do to you. No, this was something else.

“Another?” He asks, voice trembling and breathy, not above a whisper.

“I- I want more.” Your voice coming out a tad huskier than you intended, not masking how his actions had an effect on you. Your skirt feels entirely too open right now. If you were wearing jeans, or tight pants like his, you’d feel some kind of restraint. Like a chastity belt, you think, some real medieval torture. But it would be all too easy to lift this skirt, or even to shift your hips and grind against something for even a tiny iota of relief.

You don’t even watch Klaus take the hit this time, only turning your head back to face him when you hear him stop sucking. This time, he sets the bowl down before leaning in. Your mouth is open and ready for him, already a quick learner from what just transpired. So Klaus doesn’t grab your jaw this time. Instead, he grabs the hand that’s still resting on his thigh.

And he shoves it towards the crotch of his pants.

Where your open palm lands clumsy and hard against the hardness straining at his pants.

He groans as contact is made and almost coughs the rest of the smoke into your mouth, but you’re there to suck it down in stride. There’s only a quick pause for you to exhale this now twice filtered smoke before your lips re-attach to his, the bowl and lighter now forgotten.

His hand drifts to your jaw a second time, before sliding down further to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, until it strains your back. He knows you fell asleep on the couch last night, so he knows how much this burns your taught muscles. All to his advantage it seems, as you shift your weight to your knee before turning and straddling him, all without breaking the kiss or your removing your hand from his clothed cock. Your skirt pools at where both of your hips meet, and he readjusts it -ever the gentleman- for you as you begin to knead and squeeze him beneath your hand.

Instead of smoke now, your mouths fill with the moans and sighs of each other, both refusing to end the kissing first and both running out of air. The onslaught of kissing continues through some under the shirt fondling, through Klaus less than gently pinching at your nipples, through you unbuttoning Klaus’ pants- now much too tight. He only breaks the kiss finally to beckon you,

“Stand up, I’ve got something else I want to show you”

Wobbly, you give his clothed cock one more squeeze before you rise to your feet.

While you move to reposition, standing over him now with your skirt bunched in one hand and your panties in another, he shimmies his pants down to his knees. All of your wondering if he was into more than just men is silenced when his tongue makes first contact with your clit. He takes the time to swirl his tongue tantalizingly slow, then quickly flicking his tongue upward, making your knees buckle until they land at the back of the couch just above his shoulders. You lean into it as he writes letters to you with his tongue, teasing the entrance to your cunt with his fingers and gathering the wetness until his fingers are slick.

You’re about to beg for it, cry for his fingers to penetrate you, but you don’t have to because he plunges in to the hilt. There is no easing into it, he thrusts his middle and ring finger at a break neck speed. Your skin feels white hot and the only purchase you can find is in squeezing the fabric balled in your palms and Klaus skewers you and torches every one of your nerve endings with his hot mouth and fingers.

Your high is coming to a head, literally and figuratively, when Klaus retracts all attention. You whine, pouting and pitiful, when he says something that surprises you:

“You’re gonna cum, right? Order me. Order me to make you cum. I’ll obey.”

So you do.

“Fuck— Klaus. Fuck! Make me cum. Make me cum on your face.”

When he returns to your cunt he’s unmerciful, working you back up to and through your high before you can even realize it’s happening. You barely savor it before you’re convulsing, sinking your knees further until they rest on his shoulders and he has to grab you by the ass to hold you up. You hadn’t been touched like this since before you had met Klaus, and you wanted more. Insatiable and prone, you make your next move untangling yourself from his grasp.

Sinking down, you feel the old wood creak beneath your stiff knees. This would hurt like a bitch, but when Klaus smiles down at you with his face covered in the wetness of your orgasm, you can’t find a reason to care. His smile is genuine, wide and splitting, the same look he gives you when you come home with pizza. Well, this was about to be better than pizza. The tip of your tongue touches the head of his cock first, a tiny testing lick earning a full body shudder from the man in front of you.

“Please don’t tease. Do a guy a favor. Please baby?”

You’re a sucker for his pleading, and just as he didn’t give you time to adjust, you don’t give him any warning before you sink your entire mouth down on him, only stopping to hollow out your cheeks when his tip hits the back of your throat. You hold it there for a moment, and then only gag as your lungs run out of oxygen. Klaus could be a substitute for oxygen, you’d gladly rather take him in than anything you would have tried before.

He whines, you notice. High pitched and needy. He would probably do anything I asked right now to cum, you think, but you quickly dismiss the thought. In a way you’re glad it’s you sucking his soul out through his cock and no one else, because he’s putting so much of himself into this. You wonder if he’s been taken advantage before. You hope not.

You banish the thought by moaning around the head of his cock. You revel in his reaction, to bury both of his hands in your hair as he all but sobs out “oh god please keep doing that” or something like that, you can’t really tell for sure over the rush his touch sends straight back down to your core.

As much as you want to worship his cock, your own tears from gagging on it start to sting your eyes. So you pull off him, just long enough to ask,

“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or another way?” Pausing to kiss the underside of his cock before adding, “You can have any part of me you want”

It’s like a flip switches, and he’s pulling you back up, pulling your skirt down and off of you in fluid motion, before you take your spot straddling him again. Impatient, he pushes you down onto him, thrusting away immediately finding a groove.

“Oh I’m gonna make you cum— gonna be real good for you. M-make you feel real good.” He’s a stuttering, groaning mess as he thrusts up into you.

“You feel amazing inside me. You’re doing so good, Klaus. Making me feel amazing,” you coo, doing everything to praise and encourage him. “I’m gonna cum, can you feel that? It’s all for you, do you want that— OH”

The thought caught mid air stopped short by a particularly accurate thrust right into a spot that makes you scream, your second orgasm of the afternoon now much closer than it had been. You feel your muscles clench as you bear down on him, trying to make Klaus hit that spot over and over. By the way his rhythm is almost non existent, you can tell he’s almost there too.

Something crosses your mind, and before you fully process the thought, one of your hands is wrapping around his throat, fingers and thumb squeezing deftly so that you don’t close the airway, but that he sees stars. That does it.

Klaus cumming is almost more beautiful than it feels. His cock twitches and paints your insides, and you cum from the sensation as well, but the blissed-out fucked-out face smiling up at you is to see heaven itself. His eyeliner is streaked with tears, his lips swollen and bruised, a smile splitting his face in two.

You move to get up, maybe clean yourself up, but at least put your panties back on. Klaus stops you though with his hands gently but firmly on your hips, holding you in place.

“Just stay. For a bit. I’m not one of those dames you can deflower and avoid their calling cards.”

A snort of laughter. A joke covering real insecurity; you can see right through it.

“Klaus, you were deflowered long before I ever got here, but I’m not gonna go anywhere. You shot me, I’m your prize buck.”

#my work #klaus x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves smut #smut #tw drugs #addiction tw #drugs cw #prize buck series

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ghostiewriter · 3 years

Note

20/57 for the best couple ever jj and kie

I apologise in advanced for this, I haven’t looked over or edited it but oh well🤡

Word Count: 2.4K

Prompts: “It’s just rain, you aren’t gonna melt!” // “We could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain.”

Whenever JJ thought of rain, he always thought of Kiara.

In a way, I guess you could say it was a force of habit of the universe to always put them together. It seemed like at every important point of their life, the rain was right there with them. JJ wasn’t even sure if he liked the rain because of Kiara or the other way around. They were so interchangeable because whenever he had a moment that mattered with her, the rain wasn’t far behind to make it just a little more memorable. Any significant memory JJ had of Kiara, there was always rain. Every single one.

Like, when they first met.

“I still don’t get.” The young boy huffed, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his two friends try and balance on one foot.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Jay? Girls like hopscotch. If we get good at hopscotch, we can impress them.” Little John B whined, arms flailing as he tried to maintain his balance before he grabbed onto Pope for support.

“That’s stupid. Girls are stupid.” The blond replied stubbornly. In the distance, a thunder clap echoed through the sky.

“Maybe we should head back inside,” Pope muttered as he narrowed his eyes at the grey sky. “Mrs Taylor said we shouldn’t be out here anyways—”

“We’re fine!” John B assured him. “Dad said the storm won’t roll in ‘til tomorrow night. And he is never wrong.” He puffed his chest as he spoke which didn’t do wonders for his balance.

“How reassuring.” JJ commented dryly. Even as an 8 year old, the boy had sass.

“My dad said that it will be here by four.” Another voice spoke up.

All three boys turned to see a girl standing there, almost like she appeared out of nowhere. She was around their age, JJ noted. And as he glanced over her appearance, that seemed to be where their similarities ended. He noticed how pristine and fancy her clothes looked. They didn’t have holes like his did, and her shoes seemed brand new and fitted to her feet, unlike the ragged ones that were handed down to him from some older kids at the dock. She was one of them, those rich folk he always heard his dad complaining about. Instantly, his face scrunched up in distaste.

“Well, your dad is wrong. Big John knows everything.” JJ retorted.

The girl’s eyebrows furrowed together. “That’s impossible. He can’t know everything.”

“He’s Big John, anything is possible for him.”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

The two of them continued to bicker back and forth, unaware of how consistent the thunder claps were becoming and how the sky looked much angrier than before. They were both wrong. The storm was coming now.

“Uh, guys—” Pope spoke up, alarmed.

Neither of them stopped.

“Guys!” John B tried this time.

He was unsuccessful.

Then suddenly rain started pouring. Heavily.

Shrieks escaped the young kids, both out of shock and laughter. Thunder clapped and the rain just kept getting heavier. He briefly heard John B yelling about heading back inside and Pope muttering how they were going to die.

“It’s just rain, you aren’t gonna melt!” The girl called out as Pope was running towards the entrance back into the school, a pouting John B following him. But JJ stood there, a massive grin on his face.

“What a bunch of wimps.” He scoffed and the girl laughed. JJ decided that maybe she wasn’t so bad. “I’m JJ, by the way.”

“Kiara.” She replied with a matching grin.

Rain just happened to be one of those things that become a comfort in their relationship over the years, one that become a comfort to them individually too. Kiara didn’t understand her fascination with rain for a very long time. At first, she assumed it was just the relaxation and serenity she got from listening to rain sounds. But every time a storm hit the island, Kiara found herself excited for the rain to come. She would find any excuse to be in it, to just let it pour down on her and engulf her whole. Kiara always assumed she liked the calmness that surrounded rain.

That was until she was fourteen and realised just why she liked the rain so much.

It was the summer before freshman year when they decided to have one last bang before school dragged them under again for the next few months. Kiara found herself in the Boneyard with a cup in her hand (it was full of a god awful beer but she had grown to tolerate the taste, plus it was cheap). She was standing off to the side, just watching the party go ahead, needing a break from being sandwiched between dancing bodies all night.

Her eyes searched for her boys in the crowd, noticing them all pretty quickly: John B was surrounded by a group of tourons as they played some shitty drinking game she couldn’t really identify from the distance, Pope was talking away to some stoners in the corner who seemed interested in whatever he was rambling about, and lastly, she noticed JJ surrounded by a group of people as they happily drank and danced their troubles away.

It was gradual at first. A little bit of spitting, barely noticeable to the ongoing party guests as they continued to smile and laugh and drink. Then it got a little heavier, but people just laughed and assured the tourons that it would eventually die down. And then suddenly, it was pouring down and people were screaming and cheering and laughing. Kiara found herself smiling at the scene in front of her.

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY FUCKING STARTED!”

Kiara laughed, cringing a little at the choice of words but it seemed to work on the rest of the party-goers because they didn’t stop. Music blasting, people singing along, everyone enjoying their last few moments of freedom before the summer ended.

That’s when Kiara’s eyes spotted him once again and she felt her stomach drop a little.

JJ. JJ with his arms wrapped around some random girl’s waist, face nuzzled against her neck as they laughed and danced and howled at the rain. The rain pouring down on them, making the shirt he was wearing stick uncomfortably against his body and it seemed he thought the same because soon her threw it off. Her eyes trailed down his torso, appreciating the abs that were beginning to form and the muscles he was building up.

But that wasn’t what got to her.

It was when the random girl had turned around to face him, her arms wrapping around his neck before she pulled his lips down on hers.

Kiara’s heart skipped a beat as she watched closely.

She then saw JJ’s hands hover for a few seconds before he situated them on her hips and tugged her closer, returning the kiss was the same fever the random girl was giving.

And then she felt her heart stop. Watching him, kissing another girl, the rain pouring down on him as he was left unbothered while she stood there completely shattered.

Kiara liked the rain because it had always been their thing.

And now it wasn’t.

She saw him pull away, saw the random girl lean up and whisper something in his ear and then suddenly they were walking away from the group. They were heading for the grove, the place where couples only escaped to for one reason.

She thought about her moments with JJ, the times their hands had brushed more times than could be coincidental, the lingering looks they sent each other, the small blush that would appear on his cheeks whenever she complimented him. She thought it meant something but it clearly didn’t. And the idea that she could’ve made a move, made a fool or herself and ruin her friendship with him because of her feelings scared Kiara.

The next day the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule was made.

But then the gold summer came crashing down on the happy group when they least expected it and they weren’t prepared. It caused a lot of problems for the pogues, changed things.

They always knew where each other were, no matter what. They made sure to check up on each other at least once a day. There were smaller rules within that, things they never really specified but just seemed to fit in—mostly the lack of complaining from their parental figures on how much they hung out, especially after that fateful night with The Phantom. There weren’t many of them left but they would be damned if they lost each other too.

One of the biggest changes that JJ found was his hatred towards storms. As a child he found them freeing and wild and fun. They were an escape from the usual (and unfortunately shit) Outer Banks he lived in. Storms and rain were something he loved. But after seeing his best friend go down in one, in the boat he had put him on, JJ couldn’t bring himself to see rain in the same way.

Until she changed that.

Kie knew about the storm approaching, and she knew it would be a bad one. Originally, the three of them were going to stay over at the Chateau, but then Pope was being dragged into storm protection duties with his father. So it was just her and JJ, not that she minded too much. Things had been a bit awkward after John B’s departure, Kie acting on her emotions and not thinking clearly. She made some mistakes, and those mistakes almost made her lose both of her best friends. She hadn’t risked anything since then and finally, they were in a place where thinks didn’t feel so forced.

Things felt normal. They felt normal.

The storm had been raging outside for a while now, Kie and JJ sprawled on the pull-out as they just enjoyed each other’s company. Kie was reading a book, JJ’s head on her lap as she gently ran her hands through his hair. JJ had dozed off at some point, but Kie didn’t have the heart to wake him up, not since she knew he had been struggling to get a wink of sleep lately.

It wasn’t until she realised she had left her bag in the car. Usually, it wouldn’t be an issue. She would just borrow some of JJ’s clothes without a second thought. But her toiletries were in that bag and she didn’t fancy sharing a toothbrush with JJ anytime soon.

As quietly as she could, she gently slipped off the pull-out and grabbed her keys. She wasted no time in sprinting towards the car, quickly unlocking the car to grab her bag before running back to the shelter of the Chateau. Except, it just so happened the door had locked behind her.

Cursing slightly, she found herself knocking frantically on the door until a slightly dazed JJ came shuffling from the living room, opening the door and glancing down at her soaked figure. His eyes then fell down to her bag and just simply nodded before he turned to grab a towel from the bathroom, knowing what she wanted before she could even say it.

However, JJ seemed to be taking him time in getting that towel. Kie found herself turning back the rain. She hadn’t really seen the rain as anything but a nuisance since John B and Sarah’s disappearance. She couldn’t bring herself to see it anything but that. But this storm felt different, she almost felt like she was in a trance as she walked back into the exposed storm.

Her eyes shut, arms limp on her side as she leaned her head back and just let herself enjoy the slight nipping feeling of the rain on her skin, embracing the cold wind that came with it.

“Kie? What the fuck are you doing?” She heard JJ call out from the doorway but she didn’t move. She stayed stuck in her spot, a feeling of euphoria washing over her the longer she stood there. It was cleansing, refreshing. It’s what she needed after the months of hell they had been through.

She opened her eyes when she felt JJ’s hands on her shoulders, trying to shake her out of whatever moment on insanity she was having.

“Kie, c’mon, let’s get back inside.” But she just shook her head.

“Can’t you feel it?” She asked him and he only gave her a bewildered glance in response.

“Feel what, my balls freezing off? Because the answer is yes. Now let’s go.” He tried to pull her back to the Chateau but she dug her heels into the ground, shaking her head. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders, grabbing them in her own and pulling him closer.

“Just give in, Jay. It’s okay, I promise.” She murmured, JJ’s eyes on her lips like he was mesmerised by the way they moved. And when JJ finally stopped trying to drag her back inside, he was able to finally appreciate what she meant.

For so long he had hated the rain. He hated the memories it gave him. But in that moment, chest pressed against Kie’s, as they both stood in the pouring rain, JJ felt that same love he felt for the rain when he was younger. And he felt the same love he had for the brunette in front of him he had when he was younger too.

His eyes fluttered open, glancing down at her only to find that she was staring back at him with those big doe eyes of her.

“Kie…” He trailed off but she lightly shook her head, lightly shushing him.

“I just need to know…even if it’s once.” She murmured before she raised herself up on her toes and quickly pressed her lips against his. In an instant, they had their arms wrapped around each other as they got lost each other and in the rain.

This is what they needed, what they always wanted. This is why this storm was different because it also knew. It knew that JJ and Kiara needed rain in their lives, that rain followed the big moments in their relationship.

And this time the rain showered down on the two friends that realised after all these years, their love was requited.

“We could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain.” JJ muttered against her lips once they pulled away a little to catch their breath.

“I didn’t see you complaining before,” She whispered back, a small smile tugging on her lips. “Plus, makes it more memorable.”

“You’re crazy.”

“But you love that about me.”

“I do.”

Now whenever JJ thought of rain, he thought of kissing the love of his life.

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jiara prompts #writing prompts #my writing

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jt-artsandfics · 3 years

Text

So I don't knwo if anyone will actually ever read this. Maybe if I post it one day but who knows. But hi.

I'm Julian. T in a 21 year old transgender aboriginal guy. from the small town of G.H.M Austraila. And this is my life story.

I was originally born Tareena with a different middle and last name. July is my birth month. And I was born in 2000. I was a very sick baby my mother was in labour for 36 hours with me. I am her first born.

I got really sick becuase I had fluid in my lungs, I was lucky that I survived, But I did. I don't remember much of my younger childhood other then my parents fighting. My father was my mother's drug dealer back in high school. And she was daughter of the local police chief.

I remember my first ever day at school. I was bawling my eyes out and I had the most horrendous shade of red lipstick smeared on my lips.

That was the year I met my best friend for life/my brother from another mother. His name is Ben. He was the only one I really liked at school most of the other kids didn't get along with me. But I had him.

He has been there for me thought everything. When I had just turned 7 my aunt and uncle got married. It was a beautiful wedding. But if only I knew what it entitled. That was the same year my parents broke up and more.

That was the year alot of stuff started. The sexual abuse and molesting from my uncle. I still remember it all very vividly to the point I can walk though one go the buildings today and point out exact spots where he would hide with use to touch us.

I was lucky, my cousin walked in on us when my uncle was going to go further then he normally did. If it was for him at that time I most likely would have been raped.

I didn't really understand but I knew something wasn't right. He use for make us watch porn with him and it still makes my skin crawl.

I like to think things work thought karma and luck. One day I stayed home from school becuase i wasn't well had. Avery bad fever. And mum had to work. (She worked 6 jobs to support three kids after her and my father divorced.) She had left the Tv on for me and I was skipping thought channels. A really pretty actress who I don't knwo the name of came onto a talk show, and I watched it. She takes about what had happened to her when she was 10 playing as a child star of a show.

She shared what had happened with her producer. How he black mailed her and sexually assaulted, abused and raped her over the years she was their. She talked about she wish she had the courage back them to tell someone. And that if she could be the courage for someone else suffering then it means what she went thought would mean something.

It hit me hard and I believe she gave me the courage to do what I did. It scared the shit out of me. But one day I was told by my mum I had to go and stay at my uncle's for the night and I was terrified. I tried talking my way out of it by asking to go to friends places but in the end I couldn't.

My mum asked me why I really didn't want to go and if something had happened. I told her not to be mad at me and told her what my uncle had been doign to us. I told her about how he's make us strip down and lay on a bed so he could look over us like we were fucking meat. And I let it all out to her.

She was horrified. Had to calm me down and ask me if what i was saying was true. I told her it was and front there alot of shit happened that day. My mother nearly killed 'Darren' she had to be locked with us at the police department while they talked with my sister and I.

But we were too young and didn't know how to explain everything. If their is one thing I can tell you is teach your children the real name a of their genitals otherwise police won't do anything.

It was a big battle trying to get him charged my mother wanted him locked away. But sadly nothing every came of it.

We got older and I ended up spending more time with my great grandparents. My great grandfather was my world we shared a birthday of a sort with his a few days before mine. I'd see him when ever we could.

School got harder after my nana passed away. And I took up Catholicism. (Not the best choice on my part) I was 12. I did my communion and such. But after that mygrandfather moved closer and I used to spend every school after noon with him watching old john Wayne and black and white movies.

He would tell me stories of his child hood and it some something I loved.

Once I got to high school my mental health and physical health deteriorated quite quickly. I had a really creepy boyfiend who was year 11 when I was year 8. After i broke up with him he started stalking me until my younger brother and mum got involved.

After that I cut ties with alot of my friends. I only had a small group. I picked up smoking with the stoners behind the science block and hall. They were chill and let me be me. But weed only helped so much. At first I thought I wa broken. All the other 'girls' were talking about how they were having sex, had boyfriends and such and I felt so out of place. At friend I thought it wa becuase of what 'Darren' did to me.

But then I met the coolest girl at school and my first girl crush. She had dark black hair cut almost buzzed she work rings and necklaces and didn't give a shit about the school code.

She was the one who taught me girl can like girls same as guys can like guys. I hung out with her all the time. And then one day she just stopped to school I felt like I didn't belong.

I got really depressed in my next few years. Alot more smoke. I lost 3 animals I had since childhood in 3 months. It messed me up bad and then we moved again.

I was still at the same school. And that we sheen I started my friendship up wirh a girl called 'Sam'. She was my best friend for long time. Becuase at that time Ben had gotten a girlfriend. One I didn't get along with at them time but it wa becuase I thought she was a popular kid and that she was going to take my best friends away from me.

I was very unstable. I just selfharmed but not in ways that people could tell. I used to smash rocks into my head and burn my hands and feet with lighters. It made me feel more alive at the time.

It got worse once I came home with my now cat. He was 3 weeks old and I was feeding him milk off my pinkie. My step dad at the time lost his hair and fucked my mental health up even worse. I told my mum to get rid of the Cat and that when she ended up finding other newer injuries on my. I.. I had tried to rip my arms open with the sharp end of a potato peeler. Not my best moments but I can look back on it husband laughs nd how stupid I was.

Alot of stuff went down from when I as 13 to 14 wobbly step dad. But mum loved him and he never raised a hand to hurt up just he would tell alot, drink and do lots of drugs.

When I was 14 I had my first kiss with a girl. My first girlfriend and it was the best thing ever. Until she broke up with me over text.

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fruityutas · 4 years

Text

smokey rooms

stoner!hendery x reader

lowercase intended

not proofread

!this is a work of fiction and does not portray the characters in real life!

genre: angst, smut, fluff

wc: 3.6k

summary: hendery and his friends were bad news, but you never actively avoided them. he comes up to you one day and since then you were inseparable. too bad he caught you up in his spiraling lifestyle, and in the end, caused you both to get lost in it.

warning: this relationship starts fine, but progresses into a toxic one that should never be tolerated. there is drug use and illegal actions in this writing that is not being encouraged. also unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE TAPPING IT BABES), the reader isn’t forced into sex, but is pressured into it, which is WRONG do not let people do that to you. cursing

this is my first attempt at something a little more suggestive than normal so hopefully, it isn’t that garbage but it probs is so bear with it.

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the bell awoke you from your uncomfortable slumber. you let everyone go before you as you packed your things. a body brushed past you roughly, knocking your binder off the desk. “what the fuck was that for?” you look up and meet eyes with hendery. he looks down at you and smiles.

“oh, im sorry. i should really watch where im going, huh?” you were confused, why was hendery being so… nice? he picks up your binder and hands it to you. “your name is y/n, right?” you hum in response. he picks up your backpack and starts walking out.

“uhh, what are you doing?” he turns and glances at you.

“oh, i forgot to ask. wanna join me and my friends for lunch? we don't sit in the lunchroom though.” you thought for a second before nodding and following him.

“hendery, why are you inviting me?” he lazily looks at you, his eyes clearly red. “are you high?” he laughs and nods.

“yeah. you don't care about my friends and i smoking right?” you sigh but respond with a no.

“i wish you wouldn’t do that at school. you could get in trouble.” his face remains in a permanent smile as he throws his arm over your shoulder.

“yeah but they don’t care as long as i make good grades.” you shake your head while slipping out of his hold.

“you never answered my question” his face gets red and he starts to fidget.

“i just think you’re cute and i wanted to ask you out, but like after we get to know each other, ya know?” you stand there speechless as your face heats up.

“o-oh. really?” he nods his head and scratches his neck.

“uh, yeah i’ve liked you for a while actually.” you blush again and walk closer to him. he leads you out a back door and around to a secluded area where six other boys are. there were clouds of smoke being exhaled every few moments. as you and hendery walked up, they all turned to look at you.

“hey man, what’s with her? she ain’t gonna snitch is she?” hendery walks forward and does what you assume is a handshake before denying that you’d sell them out.

“you can ask her, right y/n? you wouldn’t tell no one?” you shook your head before walking closer to where they were standing. hendery grabs your hand before introducing his friends. “these are my friends. yukhei, kun, sicheng, xiaojun, ten, and yangyang.” you recognized kun, ten, and sicheng as seniors. you knew xiaojun, yukhei, and hendery were juniors, while you and yangyang were sophomores.

“so what made you wanna hang out with hendery?” kun asks you. his eyes were intimidating and it felt as if they pierced your soul.

“oh, he actually asked me to join you guys today. i can leave though if you don’t want me to be here.” you started to grab your bag from hendery but he stopped you.

“no, it’s fine y/n. they’re just a bunch of hardasses when it comes to new people.” kun rolls his eyes at hendery’s statement but smiles at you.

“you want some?” kun holds out a blunt for you. you look at it and think about all the things that would happen if you did take it. hendery’s voice floated over to your ears,

“you don’t have to if you don’t want. we won’t force you.” you look over at him and meet his honey eyes. even with the discoloration from his high, they were still beautiful. you look back at the blunt kun was holding out before taking it slowly.

“um, how do you… smoke this?” yangyang and yukhei start to snigger while ten just straight up laughs at you. hendery scolds them, saying you obviously wouldn’t know how if you’ve never smoked before. kun rolls his eyes again before explaining it to you.

“i’ll light it for you and just suck in but not too hard, or you’ll end up coughing a lung out. like a cigarette, ya know?” you nod before taking it in your mouth and letting him light it. you inhale and the smoke floods your lungs, setting them ablaze. it felt like a hot itch and it made you cough immediately. kun took the blunt back while patting your back. “do you guys have water?” ten pulls a bottle of water out of his bag and hands it to you. you thank him the best you can before taking a large gulp. when your coughing fit finally resides, hendery is by your side offering you some food. you decline before turning to kun.

“let me try again if it’s ok.” the whole group looks surprised. your face turns red at their eyes being on you. kun hands you the blunt again and lights it again for you. this time, you inhale at a slower rate. the burn is less intense and you cough a lot less. you give what’s left of the blunt to kun and move closer to hendery. “that takes some getting used to.” he giggles like a little kid on a playground. as you converse with the group of boys, he plays with your hands. the effects of the weed were starting to take over, and having never felt it before, you freaked out a bit. the boys looked worried at this and hendery tried to calm you down.

“hey, y/n it’s ok. you’re fine nothing is wrong. hey, look at me, ok?” he turned your head to look at him and he gripped the sides of your face. he looked into your eyes and this calmed you. your breathing slowly returned to normal and you relaxed in his grip. “you better now?” you nodded. “probably not a good idea to smoke for the first time at school. do you want water?”

“yes please.” he hands you a bottle and you drink it carefully. the conversation goes back to normal after everyone makes sure you're ok. soon, the bell rings and you have to leave to go to class. hendery says goodbye to the group and walks you to your class. “are you not staying?”

“no, me and the boys are leaving today to go to ten’s house.” you chew your lip nervously before biting the bullet.

“can i… come with? if that’s ok?” he looks surprised for a second before smiling at you.

“lemme text them real quick but i'm sure they won’t mind.” he pulls out his phone and sends a text, the reply coming back only a few seconds after. “they said they’d like that. i’m glad they took a liking to you, i hope you stick around.” you smile to your self as the both of you walk out the school and towards the parking lot. some of the boys are already there when you get there, and they say hello to you. ten tells you to sit next to him upfront, much to the protest of yangyang, whom he shushes saying that you’re always aloud in the front if you ride along. you giggle and stick your tongue out while he climbs in the back with hendery and kun.

“so y/n, why the sudden rebellion? could it be because of our dear hendery?” you blush at ten’s remark and look at hendery through the mirror, who is also blushing.

“i mean, yeah i guess.” your voice comes out in an embarrassed mumble. ten and kun snicker and yangyang rolls his eyes, grumbling about how hendery is already whipped. the ride is filled with the chatter of the boys, and you stay quiet and listen to their conversations. when you pull into ten’s driveway, hendery jumps out of the car to open your door for you. “thank you. so like, are ten’s parents not home?”

“nah, they left this weekend so we have his house to ourselves.” you hum in response and lean into his as you walk up the sidewalk. ten lets everyone in and starts heading towards a basement. the basement is finished with couches and a gaming system set up, likely by his parents so he could have friends over. hendery sat beside you on the couch. you leaned on his shoulder while the rest of them started the smoke session. ten turns on the tv and asks if you want to play mario kart, to which you agree. he starts it up and gives you a controller. you both play for a while when hendery asks you to come with him. the boys pay you guys no mind as you leave the basement and go upstairs. hendery takes you to what looks like a spare bedroom and sits on the bed. you awkwardly stand in the doorway. “sit down, i wanna show you something.” you sit next to him on the bed. his fingers gently brush your chin and turn your head towards him. he flicks his eyes from your lips to your eyes before locking his lips with yours. the kiss startles you but he keeps on. you eventually melt into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. the kiss starts getting heated, and he starts to slip your shirt off you. you both took turns taking an article of clothing off until you're just in underwear. his slender fingers slip your panties off and he steps out of his boxers.

“wait, do we have a condom?”

“uhh, no” you bite your lip in hesitation. “I can pull out, don’t worry about it.” you still hesitate, but give him a nod. hendery comes up to kiss at your neck as he slides in. you wince at the sting, but the pleasure takes over soon after. he sets his pace fast and hard. the bed shakes with every thrust and your moans fill his ears. you feel hendery deep inside you, his tip hits your cervix every thrust. “ah, hendery please more” your whines are like honey to him. hendery speeds up and you writhe in pleasure. the force of him pounding into you is enough to make you see white. your orgasm washes over you as hendery grunts at you clenching around him. He slides in and out of you a few more times before he reaches his high. he stills inside you to catch his breath. the only sounds in the room are both of your heavy breathing. he slides out of you and you wince at the loss of being filled. “hendery, you said you’d pull out.”

“shit, my bad. do you need me to take you to get an after pill?” you get up and gather your clothes, putting them on.

“yes, i can’t take the chance.” he gets dressed before leaving the room with you and letting the boys know that you're both going to the store.

“you guys want anything?” the boy all scream different answers, all varying snacks. hendery rolls his eyes before grumbling about spending his money. he takes you to ten’s car and you head to the nearest store. the drive there was quiet and left you wondering if hendery actually liked you or wanted to have sex with you. you went in and grabbed what you needed while he looked for the boys’ snacks. he paid for it and you guys got back in the car. “i actually really like you, y/n. i hope you don’t think i only wanted to fuck you.” he glances at you. you nod and smile at him. the rest of the ride is silent. when you walk in the house, you can hear the rest of the boys in the basement. hendery tosses the bag of snacks to them and joins you on a separate couch. you fall asleep on his shoulder with the boys’ yelling in the background.

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you continued to hang out with the boys since that day. you and hendery started dating. almost everyday after school you would go over to one of their houses to smoke and hang out. your parents noticed that you weren’t coming home until late in the night and asked you about it. “i hang out with hendery and our friends.” your parents exchange a look.

“who is hendery? and who are your friends?” you roll your eyes.

“hendery is my boyfriend. and our friends are kun, sicheng, yukhei, xiaojun, ten, and yangyang.”

“so your hanging out with a bunch of boys?”

“i mean, yea but their girlfriends come too.” your parents give another look before sighing and letting it go. they tell you to just watch the time from now on. you agree and head to hendery’s house. it was going to be just the two of you tonight. on the way to his house, your mind is distracted by thoughts of him. he was so sweet to you but sometimes, his smoking habit got in the way your relationship. he had blown off a couple of dates in favor of staying with the boys to smoke. you never said anything, because you smoked just as much as they did now, but it left you feeling as if you weren’t enough. his driveway comes into your view, and you pull up. you get out and walk up to the door and knock. he opens it and greets you with a soft kiss. you set your shoes by the door and sit on the couch.

“are we watching a movie?” he smiles and nods.

“do you have one in mind baby?” you take the remote from him and choose a movie. you both get comfortable on the couch. you’re immersed in the movie, but hendery apparently has other plans. his hands rub your legs getting higher everytime. you only take small notice until his fingers start toying with your waistband. “Hendery, are you really horny right now? this movie is about murder.” you laugh at his eagerness. he pouts but continues is actions. you reposition yourself so he can better access inbetween your legs. his fingers make their way into your underwear. the pads of his fingers are rough, and they feel like heaven on your clit. you sigh in delight at the feeling. you grind your hips back into him, feeling his boner. he slips two fingers into you and you moan out at the feeling. you move to the rhythm of his fingers and you feel your climax approaching. he pulls his hand away and lifts your shirt over your head. you slide your pants off and he gets rid of his clothes. you go to lay on your back but he stops you.

“no, i wanna try the position we were laying in.” he sits down lengthways and you get on his lap facing away. hendery gives you no warning before shoving himself in you. you grip the back of the couch to steady yourself.

“fuck, hendery” your voice barely comes out. he keeps going deeper inside you before he bottoms out. he lets out a groan when you clench around him. he waits for you to move. you nod at him and he slides out halfway before pushing back into you. you squirm and beg for him to go faster. he scoffs, “be careful what you ask for, babygirl.” he pulls all the way out before thrusting back into you with force. he reaches around and rubs circles into your clit while pounding into you. your soft mewls fill the air in the room. your orgasm was creeping up on you, the built tension from earlier as a jumpstart. hendery somehow speeds up both his thrusts and hand. your orgasm washes over you like a wave. soft “fucks” and murmers of hendery spill from your mouth. he keeps thrusting into you, the overstimulation making you clench hard. His release follows shortly after, his seed spilling in you. you fall limp against him to catch your breath. he wriggles out from under you and heads upstairs. you call after him but he doesn’t answer. you sigh and put your clothes back on before going to find him. he was in the shower when you got upstairs. you knock on his bathroom door. he grunts in response.

“did i do something wrong? i don’t understand why you’re acting like this.” you walk into the bathroom and slip out of your clothes before joining him in the shower. he ignores your presence. “hendery, please tell me if i did something-” “can you shut up?” he startles you, his voice loud.

“what is the attitude about?” he scoffs before getting out and leaving you under the water.

“you always have to be up my ass, that’s what. i rarely spend time with the boys anymore, you always have to tag along.” now it’s your turn to scoff at him.

“oh, so you’re just going to forget the two dates you blew off to go smoke with them? what about then, hendery?”

“that isn’t even that deep. quit being a baby, y/n.” tears brim your eyes and you mumble for him to get out, to which he does. when you’re done, you stay in the bathroom for a while to calm down. fights like that had become more and more frequent between the two of you. just last week, he yelled at you infront of the others about something you couldn’t even control. someone had been flirting with you and you didn’t realize before hendery had. it really hurt your feelings and he never apoligized for it. when you step out of the bathroom, hendery is sitting on the bed smoking. you walk over to the bed and sit beside him.

“i’m sorry for calling you a baby.” he passes you the blunt and you take it between your lips. you take a couple hits before speaking to him.

“i think you need to lay off on the smoking, hendery. it makes you an asshole, but i still accept your apology. i’m sorry for all the times i’ve yelled at you.” he sighs.

“y/n, im not gonna stop smoking just because you think it makes me an asshole.” you shoot him an incredulous look.

“are you serious? because i think? no hendery, i know it makes you an asshole. you can ask anyone from our group and they’ll agree.” he rolls his eyes and finishes off the blunt before muttering about how you should get home. you scoff and storm out of his house.

the next morning, you wake up to 6 missed calls from kun and multiple texts and calls from hendery. you decide to call kun first. he picks up within the first ring.

“y/n, can you please tell hendery that your not mad at him?”

“i am, though.”

“why? can you guys at least make up or something, he won’t stop calling me.” you sigh and tell him you’ll call but no promises. you press hendery’s contact and wait for him to pick up.

“y/n, i’m sorry. i know you’re mad at me but i want to apoligize. i know i can be an asshole but i’m sorry.” you take a moment to process his quick speaking.

“hendery, no matter how much of an asshole you are, i’m still your girlfriend and i love you, so i forgive you.”

“thank god, i’ll try to be better. do you want to come over?” hendery’s lack of ‘i love you too’ took you off guard. maybe he didn't hear you.

“yea, that would be nice. are the boys going to be there?”

“yeah, they were whining about how they missed you.” you giggle and tell him you’ll be over there soon before hanging up. you get dressed before heading to hendery’s house. when you get there, you don’t even knock on the door. you know the boys are downstairs already, so you head down there. ten and kun were smoking in a corner, yangyang, hendery, and xiaojun were playing video games, and sicheng was playing on his phone. you decided to sit beside him.

“hey, y/n. we missed you.” sicheng gives you a side hug, squeezing you until you had to punch his arm. he snickered as he let go of you. “you guys made up i’m assuming?”

“yea, like we always do.” you sigh at the fact that you and hendery fight so much it’s normal. he was almost always high when they would happen. your mental strength was drained from always dealing with it. so you took to smoking even more than usual to numb the pain. at first it was fine, but now you relied on it. you couldn’t sleep, or even get hungry without being high. your grades were shitty now, too. trying to hide that from your parents backfired. at first they were mad at you, but somehow it turned into a fight between them, and that caused you to get stressed even more. all the things were building up and having the pot seemed to help only a little. you were spiraling down a hole to no return. hendery didn’t even seem to notice, only sicheng did. he was always there for you when you were ignoring hendery. the past four months had turned you into someone else. if you asked your past self what they would be doing now, it would not be close to this. hendery had a tight hold on your mind, and you couldn’t force him to let go. everytime you planned to break up with him, you changed your mind. it was an endless cycle. screaming and crying in the night couldn’t help you. your parents sending you to therapy couldn’t help you. the drugs and alcohol couldn’t help you. the only thing that could help you was the very thing that hurt you. hendery. he always fixes the problems he causes.

“like we always do.”

#nshitty-frathouse #unfortunatus: inferno #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #hendery #hendery x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #wayv smut #nct smut #wong kunhang

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the-six-fingered-villain · 3 years

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Addiction, man. I’m taking a couple days off of cannabis which, while not physically addictive, has certainly nestled itself in my mind and heart...

A couple thoughts...

I’m not going to self diagnose myself with anything (I like to maintain that I’m exceptionally normal, exceptionally average) but I do recall what a blessing cannabis was when I picked it up around age 30 (7-8 years ago).

I was never offered alcohol, cigarettes, or any sort of drug in my youth... maybe a drink in college... Maybe. What little drinking I’ve done since then Did Not Agree and thankfully I’ve no temptations there. Am happy that I’m a relatively latecomer to cannabis though because... yeah.

That blissful “stoner hangover” from early edibles remains a joy to reflect upon. I vividly recall that after I’d started consuming more reliably more reliable stuff that I felt a very strong mental shift: “You” became “I”.

Self criticism is important and I support such reflections- but when your brain hisses negative “you” statements it’s... nonsensical and bad. Who is making that analysis? It’s coming from me. Grappling with such thoughts- because moderation is the key to success- became much easier when framed as “I”. If “I” was stupid then “I” could do something about it. It made synthesizing the feedback easier and more actionable. Someone or something else leveling such complaints felt more like bullying, an outside judgement being passed that I was merely a victim of. I definitely feel something about cannabis fundamentally kicked off a restructuring for me that I appreciate.

Next came the quieting. I love love love confusion- self aware madness has always appealed. Once you feel like you know what’s going on, that you’ve a firm control of things- that’s the beginning of the end. Self assurance leads to a cessation of questioning which... is a path I don’t want to go down. One should always wonder and one should always pursue questions that catch one’s interest. Being stoned feels like pruning thoughts- sometimes controlled, sometimes uncontrolled- and allows for space for a single idea to grow (into a mess? into something beautiful? ymmv)

I’m a very active stoner- I make lists of activities to help me spend my time high well. Because when worry and anxiety and concern are stripped away (and what are they if not thoughts about the future or things I cannot control at the moment) then I’m mostly left with curiosity and pride. Curiosity drives the questions (what would happen if two books fucked? does the genre of the offspring blend its parents or would it select perhaps the narrative structure of one and the characters of another?) and pride assures me that whatever answer I come up with is worth pursuing. A “yes and” encouragement rather than a “but what about?” interjection or protest.

When I craft stoned, when I write stoned, when I draw stoned I’m giddy with delight that what I’m doing is good. Is it actually good? What is good? The opinion of my peers? The opinion of the masses? Outside thoughts and accurate modeling of things beyond me or my control-- boo to that! The stoned brain becomes a depth first search engine and I chase down the results of a single idea.... If I’m doing it right. Normally/sober, I’d say I run a more breadth first approach- trying to take everything into account and slowly refining it all at once (certainly how I think in a work environment). Too much room for doubt and self criticism and comparison to shimmy its way in and gum up the whole process of creativity and joy.

Anyway, everything has been fine except I’ve blown my tolerance during the pandemic. In Normal Times I’d have other activities or events that would prevent me from getting high every night. I don’t tend to enjoy being high around sober people and there’d be other things (gaming, driving, being Responsible) that I couldn’t/shouldn’t be high for. As work nibbles away on one half of my soul and my partner’s woe and problems drag down the other, my retreat into cannabis has become more desperate (so so very much I don’t want to think about) and the effect the drug has on my system weaker and weaker.

So here I sit, trying to enjoy the rain and knowing that I’d enjoy it more with a joint. I’ve a laptop open before me but rather than write fiction, I’m writing this. I’ve got too much crap just bouncing around in my head to focus and pursue my frivolous fun... It’s not that previous joys have been muted by embracing the drug, I just know now the sweet relief of an emptier head.

For the briefest flash yesterday I considered having a drink when partner made a joke about it. That never happens.

Anyway, I look forward to Monday night when I shall allow myself a joint.

#it's only my 5th day off #personal mutterings posted to exorcise them from my mind #addiction #six says things

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mccnyoongi · 5 years

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buttercup ⇢ pt one

⇢ pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut + slight angst

⇢ au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope

⇢ word count: 6k+

⇢ warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongi’s hands because who doesn’t, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.

⇢ synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely aren’t falling in love with him.

⇢ author’s note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and it’s definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx

If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, you’d find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair you’ve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate.

But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldn’t be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.

You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongi’s were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. He’s always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You aren’t, but you’re pretty good at pretending.

Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didn’t. You figured, hey, you’re young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor.

Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but he’s also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And you’re pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.

“I can’t believe you’ve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and haven’t divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-” Jimin’s voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.

“Keep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.”

“Don’t change the subject,” You can’t say you’re surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed ‘disaster bisexual,’ Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman.

He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and… most people you know. Even if they weren’t at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.

“We don’t keep anything from each other, Y/N,” He’s whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. “I even told you about that time I puked on Namjoon’s dick in our second year!”

“Mmm, and I wish you hadn’t told me, Minnie-” The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. “‘Sides, I didn’t figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-”

“His dick, you mean.”

“Because it’s not like we’re getting married,” You carefully ignore him, a useful habit you’ve picked up three years into being his friend. “Just sex, remember?”

“So fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeon’s cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-” You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no you’re an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention he’s got a giant mouth that couldn’t keep a secret even if it killed him.

“Jesus you could’ve picked any other example-” You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think you’d have learned by now. “I’m sorry, okay? You big baby.”

“Hey, you’re on thin ice,” He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when you’re only half a medium coffee in. “And how do you expect me to do that, Park.”

“Dick details, fucking obviously,” He says it like you’re a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. “Well details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if you’ve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.”

“I’m not giving you measurements, Jimin, I’ve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just ‘cause you do.”

“Okay, vanilla bitch. You’re lucky I already know he’s got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.”

“Then why’d you even ask?”

“To see if you’d tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.”

“I may be a college student but you’re gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,” You roll your eyes playfully- there’s no real threat in his words, there never is.

“You’re right, I’m sure you’d much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?”

..............................................................................

Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you weren’t so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But you’re stronger than that- except for when you’re not.

Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, you’re thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you can’t roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week you’ve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongi’s torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.

The weed would help, you’d told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated what’re u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you.

“Alright, dove,” He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names don’t tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know… gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive.

He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where he’s uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how you’re looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. He’s used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though it’s considerably less common for a sober you.

“Dove?” Nothing. “Y/N?” It’s the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention. You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know you’ve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. “You need to stop worrying so much, dove.”

“That’s what the weed is for, Yoongs.”

“The weed? You’re just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?” His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs “Fine. Just here to sesh. C’mere then.”

You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesn’t mean it to be. He’s almost always tantalizing to you.

“Don’t be grumpy. You invited me over,” Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.

“Well, technically,” He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. “I invited the best pussy on campus over.” You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.

“Yoongi-” You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. “Don’t be an asshole, you asshole.” He grins despite the insult like he’d expected it. Or he’s revelling in it.

“You know I’m just fucking around, angel,” His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. “Tryna chill you out. I can tell when you’re all strung out. I know how you,” He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. “Tick.”

He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When he’s not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.

He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful he’s too distracted to notice since he’d probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.

A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and you’re feeling substantially... floaty. You’ve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpart’s. What’s left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.

Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. You’ve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy.

Which is why you can’t help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones you’re so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Bet you’re extra sensitive right now, huh petal?” He doesn’t have to bet because he knows it’s true, knows how needy you get when you’ve smoked. And he loves it- it’s why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.

“Fuck off,” You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs.

“Be nice,” His words are still jovial, but there’s a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.

“I am nice, you’re just a dick,” You pout- childish, but you can’t quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided it’s enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. It’s certainly not the harshest hit you’ve received from him, it’s more playful than anything, but it’s enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.

His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high he’s in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that you’ve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.

“I told you, I know how you tick,” He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. “Which means I know you like it when I’m mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,” The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. “And- and I know you’re probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.”

It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties.

“Aren’t you?” His tone doesn’t leave room for playfulness anymore, and you’re nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to bask in the praise before he’s leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. He’s domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist.

Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.

He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that you’re properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, it’s with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. He’s still smirking.

“Gonna fuck you so good petal,” Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks.

Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didn’t fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess.

Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think you’d ever been. how you’d brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. He’d immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.

Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).

“Y-yoongi-” You’re trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast it’ll get him to fuck you faster. “C’mon, just fuck me already.”

“So demanding for such a needy bitch,” He has you squirming on his lap and you don’t know why you thought you had any power over him left. “Have you forgotten your place? Can’t think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?”

You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when you’re met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. “Yeah, yeah Yoongi ‘m sorry, just need it.”

“I know, baby, I know, you can’t even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,” You can’t decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way he’s got you another pair of panties.

“Need you to fix it, Yoongs,” All pride is out the window when he’s got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.

“I will,” He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. “Now fucking get up,” He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.

You’re in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isn’t far behind. Soon you’re clad only in your panties while he’s still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.

He doesn’t make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.

“God, you’re fucking dripping,” He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. “All this from almost nothing, huh? You’re such a fucking slut for me, shit.” He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you weren’t facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you weren’t distracted by the hand that isn’t on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.

He smirks when he notices what’s grabbed your attention, knowing you’re only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. “Is this what you want? Hm?”

“Ye-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,” Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.

“And you’ll fucking get it, dove,” The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting.

You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt.

“Yoongi-” You’re whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.

And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and you’re whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.

“Be fucking patient,” He hisses out, but at least he’s finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hold you down just like this so you can’t even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,” His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. “And then I’ll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so you’ll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.” At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“Shit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-” You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you don’t know why. “I’ll be good, okay? ‘M your good girl, I am, promise, I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume he’s happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit.

It’s too much, but it’s not nearly enough. It’s when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.

Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. “Yoongi- gonna come-” You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.

You know that he wouldn’t be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. “Yeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.”

When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you can’t help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbour’s delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongi’s name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him.

“Good fucking girl,” The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head weren’t a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but you’re too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.

Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. “Yoongi,” You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.

“Hm,” He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of what’s to come. “What, is my babygirl still needy?”

The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you don’t even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. “Such a greedy, desperate girl, won’t be happy ‘til you’re stuffed full of my fat cock,” His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you don’t have to look to know you’re leaving a stain on his favourite jeans. If you’re unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- he’ll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture.

But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he can’t wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor blades’ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.

Which is why you don’t doubt him for a second when he’s murmuring things about how he’s ‘gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,’ and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of ‘I knows’ and ‘pleases’ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. It’s wonderfully overwhelming and he’s not even fucking you yet.

You can’t even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. You’ve never been one to describe guys’ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, you’re not blind. But Yoongi’s dick is gorgeous. It’s not the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t have to be, not when it’s girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.

He’s pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and you’re back to straddling him, and you don’t complain because you know he’s tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.

“Need you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,” And you’d have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.

“Need it too, Yoongs,” You don’t know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. “Can’t think of anything else.”

“I know,” He’s rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands weren’t heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldn’t a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. “So pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet, huh?”

You nod frantically, and you can’t even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending ‘awe’ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. “Careful, slut, or you won’t be coming for the next week-”

“Please, Yoongi-” You don’t let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay just please-”

You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. “Shit, god, you’re always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.”

I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but you’re sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what you’re feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock you’ve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and it’s all Yoongi’s dick.

“Fucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,” He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And it’s with the satisfaction you get knowing he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.

With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm.

It’s not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. It’s intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.

All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe.

Yoongi’s words are swirling around in your head, though you’re not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’re a good girl and it’s all another instrument in your downfall. You’ve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and you’re just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.

“Tell me you’re fucking close, baby, c’mon,” This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but you’re still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. “Gonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.”

And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, you’re gone. It’s considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you don’t mind and you know Yoongi doesn’t. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.

And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. He’s grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how he’s filling you up, just like you’re meant to be that you can just barely hear.

Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you don’t know when you’ve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit you’ve ever taken off of one of his blunts.

“Shit, buttercup,” He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where you’ve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. “I don’t know how we’re gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.” Mood killer.

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.”

You pull back from the spot you wish he’d just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He can’t find the sight of you… adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable.

At that moment he’s glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.

You don’t know what time it is, just that it’s late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep you’ve given up in lieu of Yoongi’s pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you can’t miss, but that’s for future you to worry about. For now, it’s time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.

..............................................................................

Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because you’re sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and it’s all Yoongi’s fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a ‘little bitch boy’ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasn’t responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.

But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous ‘I got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didn’t so I’m better than you look.’ You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.

And now you’re in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didn’t have time to cover up.

When your phone pings you assume it’s Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But it’s not. It’s Yoongi- well, it’s what you have Yoongi’s number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over… You’re surprised he’s awake, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have shit to do until the afternoon.

You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah it’s a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and you’d previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year.

Yoongi isn’t a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, he’s the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. He’s the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what he’s gonna do next.

[9:23 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: you could have woken me you know dummy

[9:24 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: subways are gross in the morning

[9:25 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: i could have u know, driven u…

[9:26 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: cant really say no to u buttercup.

You don’t know why you’re heart’s beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.

#bts smut #btswritingcafe #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #buttercup #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts writing #def not my best work but u know JKFDHKJFHS

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