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pearbunny · 3 months ago

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first kiss // [an ot8 series]➥ HHJ

Hwang Hyunjin

part of the first kiss Masterlist, a simple unrelated drabble series of your first kiss genre: fluff! actor!hyunjin x actress!reader summary: Your director friend has someone in mind to play your romantic interesting in an upcoming movie: Hwang Hyunjin. word count: 3k warnings: Use of Y/N. Hongjoong appearance. Cursing. Writer has limited knowledge about audition processes lol not exactly proof read, hehe oops a/n: i'm struggling on these short drabbles, mostly because i feel compelled to overwrite to explain/build a backstory or connect. god idk how to feel about this one. ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY HWANG HYUNJIN!!!

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Hongjoong has been not only a close friend, but a trusted work partner since your second ever feature film. He’s only slightly older than you, but in a professional sense, he’s been directing since he was fifteen; back then it was music videos for friends who were aspiring musicians. He quickly adopted the starving artist attitude and worked on numerous projects– audition tapes, commercials, small inserts in shows or tv broadcasts, until finally he hit the jackpot with a very indie film that caught the attention of the masses. Since then, he’s found success after success, whether it be big or small.

So when Hongjoong said he found a fresh new face –Hwang Hyunjin– on stage while watching a local play that would be a perfect fit for the role opposite of yours in your upcoming movie, you were 80% on board. The other 20% was skeptical; Hyunjin had only been in three small plays. He worked his way up from a background actor, a supporting role, and most recently one of the leading actors.

“Y/N, trust me on this, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong?” Hoongjoong crosses his legs in his seat across from you and he lifts his cup full of espresso to his lips. He exudes confidence: perfectly tailored gingham printed trousers, a matching brown colored cardigan with a crisp white wide collar shirt underneath. He wears his glasses low on the bridge of his nose, eyes not even looking at you because he knows he’s right.

“No, you have not.” Your eyes scan over the text of the script, flipping through the pages as you speed read through it.

“And you know I’m right about these things,” Hongjoong clicks his tongue for emphasis. “I was right about you.”

You glance at him now, annoyed at how true that was. Your story was a little different from Hyunjin’s: a child actress that started out in commercials, roles on lesser known TV shows, a small role in a movie. Then your agent found the script to one of Hongjoong’s movies and since then, you’ve worked on a couple of projects with him. So while you had similarities, you’re a… more seasoned actress.

Hongjoong flashes his pearly whites, taking your silence as a win. “Anyway, I set up a meeting with you guys since he’ll be your romantic partner. You guys can rehearse your lines for a chemistry read.”

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You reread the text message from Hongjoong. He had given you the address of a cafe near his studio where Hyunin and you would meet. You look up at the large printed numbers above the entrance of each shops you pass by, trying to find the place. Soon, smell of coffee fills your nose and you know you’re closeby.

When you find the shop and open the door, a soft murmur of conversations float through the air, just over the clinking and clanking of espresso machines and blenders behind the counter. You fall in line, deciding to grab a coffee before looking around the place for Hyunjin. With your latte in hand, you set out to find your possible co-star.

You’re not sure what he looks like, really, but you’re looking at the tables, ruling out anyone that’s seated with someone already. The cafe looked like a good co-working space, with tons of outlets for laptop chargers, even a couple of work meetings happening, judging by fancy work jargon you weren’t familiar with; something about the measurements of last quarter’s KPI.

Finally, your eyes land on a man with black hair that barely touches his shoulders, half of it tied up in an effortless way, with bangs that frame his cheekbones. A pair of thin silver-framed glasses sits high on his nose bridge as his eyes peer down at his phone, a thick bundle of papers in front of him on the table. You confirm it's him when you read the title of the upcoming movie in plain text on the binded papers’ front page.

You pull the chair out from across from him, smiling once he takes notice of you. His eyes are a little wide, taken by surprise. “Hyunjin? Hi, I’m Y/N.Hoongjoong told me a little bit about you.”

Hyunjin’s dark brown eyes follow your form as you sit in your chair and place your coffee down in front of him. “Ah,” He scratches at the back of his head nervously and clears his throat. “Hi. Hongjoong didn’t…” He struggles for a little bit, wondering if he should say what he’s thinking. “Well, Hongjoong didn’t really have to tell me much about you.”

“Oh?” You sit your bag and coat on the empty chair next to you.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve definitely seen a couple of Hongjoong’s films before. So when he said that the script was going to you, I rewatched Loveless, and I ended up watching a drama you were in.” Hyunjin straightens his back and sits up straight in his chair.

You find him watching your past projects a little embarrassing. You’re nowhere near as known as Hongjoong himself is, you choose to do smaller films and short series on television; you aren’t sure you’re ready to do anything more than that. Loveless was the movie you had first done with Hongjoong. It was a romance movie about two star crossed lovers that ended on a bitter note. As for dramas, you have been in a few. “Which one if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My Secret Life.” Hyunjin’s smile stretches the corners of his lips to show a dimple and you find yourself smiling back at him, purely based on the energy his smile radiates.

“Oh no, that was a very… fluffy and cringy show!” You laugh off how self-conscious you feel all of a sudden.

“Oh yea, it definitely was.” Hyunjin takes a sip of his drink. It looks to be a strawberry-matcha-something-or-other if you were to go by the colors. “But you were really good in it! The fact that I felt second hand embarrassment in those scenes meant you were delivering your lines well.”

You give Hyunjin a lopsided smile, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling ear to ear. The praise he was giving you was enough to inflate your ego, but you quickly shook it away and nodded your head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Your eyes glance at the script in front of him. “Have you read it over?”

Hyunjin takes his phone off of the cover and slips it into his pocket. With one hand, he flips opens the script and flips through a couple of pages. “Yes and I have a couple of notes that I wanted to go through with you, if you didn’t mind?”

Your eyes light up, pleasantly surprised at how professional and prepared he came, despite this possibly being his first film. “Wow, yeah of course! We can go to hongjoong’s studio if you’d like. He’s got a conference room we could use.”

“Perfect.” Hyunjin stands up and grabs his script, tucking it under his arm while he grabs his drink. He comes around the table to your chair and while you move to stand up, he takes your coat and bag in one hand, offering it to you and scooting the chair back in behind you.

It's then you notice how tall he is, how his black knit sweater seems to just drape over his body. The slim silver chain around his neck dangles, elongating his tall frame even more. You almost struggle to keep up with his long strides.

The walk to Director Hongjoong’s studio was only a couple of blocks away, but it allowed you to get to know each other more.

Hyunjin walks next to you, letting you lead the way. When you pause at the crosswalk, you look both ways as you ask, “When was the first time you’ve ever acted?”

Hyunjin smiles as he reminisces. He remembers small Hyunjin, eight years old, way too excited for his one-line part in a school play. “Elementary school. I was Sheep Number 2’ during a manger scene during the Christmas play. ‘He’s here! He’s here!’ That is the only thing I said for the one and a half hour show.” He shakes his whole body, trying to get rid of the embarrassing memory.

You find it cute.

“What about you, what was your first acting experience?”

“A diaper commercial." You laugh, as you usually do, when you tell someone about how your dad signed you up for a diaper commercial, convinced you were the sweetest and most beautiful baby ever. "How'd your audition go with Hongjoong?"

"It went alright," Hyunjin shrugs, a little lacking in confidence. If Hongjoong picked him for the role, it went more than alright. You knew that Hongjoong did not settle for anything less than the vision in his mind. "I was a little surprised that he came up to me after that play to tell me to audition."

You give him a reassuring smile, "Well I'm excited to rehearse with you. Hongjoong doesn't pick just anyone."

Soon, you find yourselves in front of Hongjoong’s creative studio. Large windows to let in all the natural light, low couches in earth and jewel tones. A lot of the furniture was a mix-matched amalgamation of sorts, yet they all came together to form a cohesive vibe. Because of all the natural light, there were many plants around including tall monsteras, snake plants, vining and crawling ones, and a succulent wall piece.

Hyunjin’s mouth dropped as he gasped. The place was beautiful.

However, being friends with Hongjoong now for a couple of years, it was just how Hongjoong was. Not to discredit how beautiful the place was, but it just made sense for him.

“We can use the room at the end of the hall.”

Hyunjin nods and takes the initiative to lead the way, opening the door for you and closing it behind him, then taking a seat next to you.

No longer is he the wide-eyed boy with a sweet smile and dimples that you saw out in the lobby, his brows are straight with focus as he goes over the script, pencil in hand as you both takes notes straight on the script’s page.

You go back and forth over how you should deliver certain lines, seeking validation from each other and giving criticism and offering advice. In order to nail the chemistry read, the both of you had to really have a good grasp of the characters’ personality at that point in the script.

Hyunjin places his pencil on a specific line. “So, at this point, my character seems to be more himself. Like he doesn’t have to hold back.”

You nod, leaning over slightly to read his script for context since you were on another page. “Oh, m’hmm.” You hum. “I think that’s where my character kind of knows what she’s gotten herself into with him.” You bite the inside of your cheek and look back at your own script, turning it to the same page as Hyunjin’s. “I was thinking that she should be a little more bold and really just go for this kiss.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, mulling the choice over. “Do you think that would be a drastic change though? Like she just suddenly gets the confidence?”

Your brows scrunch together and you flip back through the pages, quickly reading over the lines to see your characters’ interactions with one another. At this particular point in the plot, your character has mostly shown characteristics of someone that was a little timid, a little cautious to go after something that isn’t considered a ‘safe’ choice. Hyunjin’s character is the type of guy that has fallen for your character who isn’t exactly his type, so he’s gentle around her, but this scene seems to be a small moment that leads into a later big moment.

Finally, you nod and make your own notes. “You’re right. I think this scene is supposed to be a bit more subtle. Like a small action that makes her realize there’s no going back.”

Hyunjin’s eyes beam as he nods. “Yes, exactly! She’s supposed to be this girl who’s typically very level-headed, a creature of habit, but here she sees the option of ‘Do I choose something I’m not used to or do I go back to something I know’.”

The excitement in Hyunjin’s voice and his animated gestures are infectious and now you are also excited about the direction of the scene. Obviously, Hongjoong would have the final say during filming, but it was always good to be on the same page, especially since this was for a chemistry read.

Hyunjin stretches his arms above his head, loosening his stiff back muscles from sitting at the table for so long. You two were working so hard to ensure the chemistry read would go well that you hadn’t even noticed how dark it was outside. “So, why don’t we rehearse a couple of times and then we’ll call it?”

You agreed, standing up from your chair and stretching, too. You had to admit to yourself that Hyunjin’s work ethic was admirable. You wonder if it was that young starving artist feeling that you seemed to have lost at some point; you hadn’t felt this optimistic about a script in awhile. Whatever it was, it motivated you to match his energy: exciting for the possibilities that the film could present. Though he worked hard, it wasn’t at all intimidating, especially since he shared his thoughts with you often. It helped you engage one another and it made you feel comfortable.

You both flip to the correct page of the scene you were to present to Hongjoong.

Hyunjin clears his throat and reads his lines one more time before placing himself at the edge of the table, leaning back on it casually. He takes his glasses off and folds them neatly, placing them on the desk. Finally, to put himself into character, he rolls his sleeves up, showing off his strong forearms. When he looks up at you, your met with slightly hooded eyes, sultry, like there was only one thing on his mind: You.

Your mouth goes dry under his gaze. You nearly have to remind yourself to get into character, that this was apart of a scene. You quickly pull yourself together and, similar to Hyunjin, you become your character: a little trepidatious, but intrigued. You don’t have to look at your lines, you’ve gone over them in your head multiple times already while jotting down notes.

“So, Mina was right?” You deliver the line in such a way that your voice toes the line between playful curiosity and accusatory.

Hyunjin acts on his notes on the script, crossing his arms over each other, a body language tick that shows he’s feeling cornered and withdrawing a little from the question. “It depends, what did she say?”

Your eyebrows knit a little and your lips twitch into a small smile, but it’s a sad one, as if you’re hoping it’s not true. “You don’t do relationships.”

Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, and pushes himself off the table. He grabs another chair and sits it across from you. His body is turned totally towards you while you are looking at him from the side, body turned 90 degrees away from him. “No. I don’t. They’re… “ He pauses, as if searching for the right words, despite knowing his next line. “Messy.” His voice is gentle despite how much they’re supposed to sting your character’s heart.

“Well, I mean, they don’t have to be?” Your voice poses it as a question, as if trying to persuade Hyunjin into giving a relationship a try.

“No, they don’t have to be,” Hyunjin pulls your seat closer to him, turning it around so you face him. His legs are spread apart, while yours together fit in the gap between them. “But why mess thing’s up?” Hyunjin reaches his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your face to get a better look of you. A small smirk dances on his lips as he leans forward. He allows a pause, space for your character to dismiss him, to back away, to shoot him down.

Instead, you lean into his touch and exhale deeply.

Hyunjin’s smirk turns into a smile and he leans in even more, his lips so close to yours. For a moment, it’s tense with him just hovering there.

“This is where we would kiss.”

Hyunjin swallows a lump in his throat, chuckling to himself awkward. “Yeah,” He doesn’t make a move to back away as his cheeks grow warm with clumsiness and embarrasment.

You quickly take a glimpse of him and notice that he’s staring, just staring, at your lips. Subconsciously you lick your lips, almost a plea for him to go for it.

“Ah, fuck it.”

You almost laugh, but before it can escape you, he’s crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is electric, it sends tingles down your spine, all the way to the tips of your toes. His long fingers and large palm cradles your face while you not only accept, but return the kiss. Your lips mold onto his, soft and pillowy. There’s a short fight for dominance until your whole body relaxes to his touch. When you pull away, you’re left breathless. You can’t even look him in the eyes, you’re embarrassed.

How could a novice actor rock you to your core like that?

Hyunjin clears his throat and nonchalantly backs his chair away from yours and turns his attention back to the table and his open script.

You finally catch your breath, running your hand through your hair to compose yourself. Your manicured fingers tug at the collar of your shirt before you roll your chair next to his, following his example. You take your pencil and gesture to jot down notes into the margin of your script, but all you’re doing is scribbling circles next to the line that state that the characters kiss and you can’t help but to feel like you’re drawing how your stomach feels, fluttery, jumbled up, nervous and excited.

You sneak a look at Hyunjin through the corner of your eyes, only to see that the blush has stayed on his cheeks. He is however writing down notes. You sit up in your chair a little straighter to give you a good look at his messy writing.

‘Confidently kiss her. Make sure it’s a kiss that leaves her wanting more.’

You’ll have to tell him another time that that is exactly what that kiss was giving.

Right now, you have to tell Hongjoong that there will be no need for a chemistry read. The chemistry was there, alright.

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an: thanks for reading! i appreciate you c:

#skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin #hyunjinf fluff #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines

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concreteangel92 · 2 months ago

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I'm so happy that your requests are open hehe🥹💕

I'd kill for some soft work of yours, like the whole day spent together with Noah doing something together. Going to the zoo or beach day or painting each other (the tiktok trend you know) and then finish it with some soft smut, Noah talking you through it, holding hands, soft touches and stuff🥹

Basically the softest version of Noah you can think of haha, please and thank you💕

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: soft smut, praise, PiV, just some overall cuteness basically haha

The painting trend is such a cute idea that I had to use that one for this request! I hope you enjoy ☺️

So this is soft, gentle!Noah….mean dom!Noah is next on my request list 👀

Permanent Taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bloody-spades @lacy1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls @fadingintothegrey @tosoundlessdarkistare @ichoosetenderomens @hurricanesfollowyou @concretejunglefm @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xmads-omensx @chey-h @xxkittenkissesxx @lyschko666 @rumoured-whispers @renegadebirch @floodflameschosen @ami--gami

Let me know if you wish to be added!

Masterlist

“So, what are we doing again?”

You rolled your eyes with a grin as Noah flopped into the chair across from you. “Painting each other.”

He raised an eyebrow, already smirking. “Like… one of your French girls?”

You reached over and gave his arm a playful slap, the both of you laughing. “Shut up, Noah! No. I saw this cute trend on TikTok and thought it would be fun.”

He leaned back with that cheeky smile, eyes lighting up with mischief. “You gonna post this on TikTok, babe?”

You giggled as you got comfortable in your chair. “That depends on how good they turn out.”

The next hour passed in a mix of giggles, paint smudges, and stolen glances. Every time you peeked up from your canvas, Noah was already looking at you, his gaze warm, soft and intense. It made your stomach flutter every time.

You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead to move some hair from your face, unknowingly streaking a bit of paint across your cheek. “Right… I think I’m done.”

You set your brush down and looked at your “masterpiece,” already cringing internally. You were no artist but you’d tried.

Noah, who had finished a few minutes before you, was watching you with a grin, clearly holding back laughter.

“Let me see, then,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“No, you first,” you said quickly, hiding your canvas from his gaze.

He shrugged and turned his around with a dramatic flourish.

You gasped. It was…actually good. Like, really good. Not perfect, but you could see yourself in it, the way your eyes squinted when you laughed, the curl of your smile. Your heart flipped a little.

“Okay wow…that’s actually really good” you admitted.

He looked pleased. “I used to draw a lot when I was younger. You make a good muse. Ok now yours”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly turned your canvas around.

Noah stared at it for a second, then burst into laughter, not cruel, just utterly amused. “What the hell is that?”

“Shut up!” you laughed, covering your face. “It’s….abstract!”

“It looks like a Picasso painting went through a blender!”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, it was genuinely bad. “In my defense, you wouldn’t sit still!”

Still chuckling, Noah stood up and came around the table. “Hold on, you’ve got something…”

He reached up and brushed a smudge of brown paint from your cheek with his thumb. His touch lingered longer than it needed to, fingers grazing your skin softly.

Your laughter faded with a smile as you looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close he was.

He leaned in, his voice softer now. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your breath caught just a little. “Even with paint all over me?”

“Especially then…I’ve loved painting with you today” he murmured.

You smiled, your voice low. “Yeah?”

“Mm. Especially when you’re so cute when you’re focused on creating your ‘masterpiece’”

You giggled and blushed as you looked at your painting again.

“Guess I wont be quitting my day job any time soon”

“Maybe not just yet babe” he whispered and then his lips met yours.

The kiss was warm, slow, and sweet, his hand gently cupping your jaw. You melted into it, fingers still streaked with paint curling into his shirt as he pulled you closer.

His mouth was soft, coaxing, and when his other hand slid around your waist, your body responded easily, pressing into him like you were always meant to fit there.

He pulled back just slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “You wanna…?”

You nodded before he could finish. “Yeah.”

Noah pulled you back into another kiss and you felt his hands wandering over your body as he lead you backwards towards the sofa, both of you removing different articles of clothing until you were both pressed against each other’s bare skin.

“You’re so fucking perfect”

He took his time, worshipping every inch of your skin with lips and fingertips, like he was still painting you, only now with devotion instead of a brush.

A choked gasp left your throat as you felt him slip inside, stretching you beautifully as he started a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts.

You both moaned into each other, your lips never leaving the other for long. You both took your time, feeling no need to rush, you were both completely lost in the moment.

“Noah…”

His name fell from your lips like a prayer. You could feel every inch of him, buried deep, the pressure building with every gentle but firm stroke. Sweat slicked your skin, making each brush of your bodies feel even more intense. You clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring you to the world, not wanting this moment, this connection, to ever end.

His hips never stopped, every thrust was sending a warm ache through you as you felt your stomach twisting beautifully. You moaned into his lips, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Noah…” you whispered, breath catching as he rolled his hips just right, hitting that spot that made your eyes fall shut and your head to fall back against the sofa.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple as one hand slipped between your bodies to touch you, coaxing another desperate whimper from your throat. “So good for me…you’re so fucking beautiful…”

You couldn’t hold back your cry as you fell apart underneath him, your body trembling in his arms as your nails dig into the skin on his back.

Noah’s hips stuttered once, twice, then he was spilling into you with a low, drawn out moan, clinging to you like he was falling apart too. His breath came in hot pants against your skin, his hands cradling your waist like he never wanted to let go.

You both relaxed into each other’s arms, your breathing laboured as you both came down from your highs.

Noah leant up and he brushed away some of your hair which was now damp against your face as he smiled down.

“I love you so much”

“And I love you Noah, I couldn’t imagine ever being apart”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noahsebastian #noah bad omens #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian drabble #noah sebastian fic #concreteangelasks #concreteangel92

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dallasgallant · 4 months ago

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Time period post- appliances and thrift

Originally was going to skip making this post, as I thought it’d be boring but I was informed (many times) how it was wanted. Going to combine appliances and some thrifting and shopping related things. As I think it would be beneficial, as the boys are poor/impoverished so we should look at some of that side of purchasing - as many of my general time period posts are very middle class to soc range (at least in the images of new cleaned and polished) Home related posts;

Here and here

Something to keep in mind is location and the community. Some places, especially smaller towns take a long time to change or update, a lot of “mainstreets” or “squares” in older parts of town have the same buildings or styles from maybe even when they were first built or at least updated in the 1960s and still look like it today. So imagine back then! Lol. Even if a community has a rich minority, like the socs- that’s no guarantee the area modernizes into something brand new over night.

Convenience, gadgets and built ins-

Truly the time to be a lover of the gadget or the trinket. The continuation of post war production boom and making products with the idea of convenience in mind. A lot of it was ridiculous but really there was some cool stuff. The big trend was : Automatic and electric.

Electricity and electric things had really started to take to the public in the 1880s and we never really stopped electrifying basic items. Notable cases here; Electric knife, electric beaters/mixers (still hand held but not done by hand), electric/motorized can openers.

Gadgets! Things that would’ve been done by the stove and the over now with dedicated little devices. Now toasters and waffle irons and grittles had already been around for some time but were booming. Meat grinders (electric ones anyway), roasters, blender, drip coffee maker, hot trays/warming trays.

Another reason for the rise in gadgets or specific tools like a warming pan would be just how popular hosting and throwing parties was. (Much more soc). At the same time as more specific gadgets were made there was also a trend of combining! As kitchens were small and again, connivence.

You’d also see radios or even later counter tvs (impossibly tiny) pop up in kitchens.

Laundry-

A lot of homes at the time would only have one bath, especially if older and it was likely added in (if very old), so forget a laundry room. However, they were slowly rising in popularity and bathroom numbers too in more modern homes. Laundry machines did exist for a while but it’s sort of like electricity and AC some people didn’t have them or are still getting around to getting them — and when they did it’d sometimes be on the porch or garage or where they’d fit.

Laundromats would populate towns, still do but in this case it was less common than today to have a full set and bonus gadgets in your home. (Though your iron etc at home) or maybe there’d be a woman who does it for the neighborhood or apartment complex etc (headcanon Steve’s mom as a washwoman. I know they still existed but all the info I get is 1700s Scottish women… I feel insane)

Not so fast -

The world wasn’t like it is with microtrends and using/wearing/having something for a week or a summer and then tossing it out. There were trends but far longer lasting, and if someone was to make a commitment to say doing their home in a design trend, once all that work is done they wouldn’t change it for years (some never do! Look at all the untouched houses on the market every so often)

Appliances were made to last and often came with a Warranty, either discounted or free replacement or repair for a certain period of time. If you’re lucky a lifetime warranty. This stuff was built to last a lifetime! Tough, dependable, durable. It’s why the “garage fridge” exists in so many middle class homes today, it’s out of style but it still works perfect so now we have a soda fridge or extra storage.

Honestly if you had to replace or update annually back then it’d probably be seen as a bad or cheap product!

This isn’t to say people never updated, or changed based around style. But you first have to have the money for it and two it’s a treat, not a regular occurrence. So maybe in 10 or 20 years if you need new kitchen appliances or would like to restyle you go for it.

Thrift and used-

Especially relevant to the guys. Think it’d be rare if they bought a single thing new - that wasn’t used or loaned etc

Thrift stores, surplus stores, charity’s, churches, there’s always been ways to get things at a much more affordable rate. Even thrift food stores in some circumstances (no it’s not pre used).

Used car lots were also incredibly common, honestly it’s how most kids got their first car. Most people really! Now if you didn’t get totally swindled.

Thrift isn’t just relegated to physical thrift stores either, a lot of local businesses (places that aren’t the department store or major chain) would often have a used section or “used store”. Appliances, records - just about anything.

Layaway! A store sets an item or a bunch of purchases aside and you make incremental payments until the purchase is paid off. Then it’s yours. (Began during the Great Depression)

Rental, and rent to pay started conceptually post ww2 but Rent-A-Center itself was founded in 1973 so I’m not completely set on renting.

Coupons! Another way to save money and be able to make purchases, given in newspapers, adds, by the stores themselves. Rewards programs really kicked off in the 60s, one of the most common being S&H Green Stamps. (Some hang on the builtin board in the museum.) these would be gotten at check out and some other businesses and collected by customers, to be redeemed for items from their catalogs. You could get everything from appliances to makeup from how you saved and spent.

While I’m not getting into it, I did include thrift and some other things that are more relevant to the boys -> 1964 Food Stamp Act that saw the Creation of SNAP (food stamps) would be huge. However programs stem all the way back to the depression once again, more here

They Would have way older appliances and machinery- 40s old sometimes. Boys specifically have a Dixie stove and this old washer is an assumption of mine (if they had one at all!!)

#the outsiders #outsiders #time period post #1960s #writing help #time period post : Appliances and thrift #home appliances #thrifting #writing reference #writing resources

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homestuckreplay · 4 months ago

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d&d robot wizard named Intellibeam Laserstation

(page 1555-1572)

It’s feeling so Act 2 up in here because we are seeing a couple of kids try to figure out Sburb mechanics while being equal parts competent and silly.

But first, a revelation that Jack Noir has ‘a policy of handing out a REGISWORD and a HITLIST to just about everyone who enters your office’ (p.1555). This is in my homestuck jokes hall of fame because it’s a sudden punch of absurdity that adds to the plot and characterization, instead of detracting from them. I think the jokes that don’t hit for me tend to be when a character uses a phrase format or SBAHJ reference that feels out of character for them to say, or when a joke replaces what could be a character moment (for example, p.444). This joke contributes to Jack’s amorality and clear-headedness while inciting disproportionate violence, and preserves PM’s character arc, since it’s significant if she’s the only recipient of this hitlist who actually carries it out.

It sucks that the Queen keeps Jack locked behind a desk watching other people when he has this much flair and style. He should be on the stage. Also I cannot imagine the damage PM would inflict upon Jack if she saw him open that package that isn’t addressed to him. That’s a MAIL CRIME and I for one am not even curious what’s inside until the package reaches its ADDRESSED recipient.

Dave and Jade are a fun combination of Sburb players, because Dave has no concerns with playing the game ‘correctly’ and is willing to go with whatever makes things easier, while Jade has the inventor’s curiosity and wants to exploit hacks and glitches to advance as fast as possible. And Dave may have made fun of Jade for her ‘goofy modusses’ (p.382) but he is definitely benefiting from them now. Jade doesn’t play many games (p.442, 1400) but has spent her whole life engaging with Skaian technology, which is essentially ‘tech that functions on video game logic’ [sidenote: this definition made me decide that the sylladex is also 100% Skaian tech] so I think this helps her intuit how Sburb works.

The ability to alchemize the alchemiter feels right and correct. Alchemiter upgrades and add-ons allow for more complexity in the mechanics without needing more machines than would be practical to work with, just like how Sburb’s Atheneum (p.620) can store previously carved totems so that it’s not necessary to retain the physical objects. It seems like if enough machines are combined into one, the physical steps (moving around, handling and carving cruxite and cards) will be eliminated and the whole process will be automated. On a story level, it allows for power scaling as an upgrade can be anything, and there’s less concern for the time and space that a task takes – small developments like this and the suggestion of transportalizers between planets (p.1531) are still expanding the scope of the story.

I think a portable alchemiter would be a great next step. Gotta have a punch card for a little backpack and then Dave can carry this around while exploring his planet and he won’t end up like John, in a land of copper giclopses far away from weapon upgrades.

But what I love about Sburb is that it doesn’t care if an update is helpful. It lets the players make bad and nonsensical decisions and incorporates them into its logic. It’s open world and if you want a blender or a GameBro bust on your alchemiter then you can. It’s the difference between a game that makes an error sound if your strength is too low to equip the Ultra Greatsword and a game that lets you equip it and then just be a shitty fighter.

Dave struggling for space on page 1563 made me wonder about the smallest space needed to play Sburb. Its name suggests a full house, but a large room, like a well kept studio apartment, might have room. But a dorm room or houseboat or RV or nursing home or hospital simply would not work without modifications, and the idea of playing Sburb in unconventional living spaces is really interesting to me. Maybe if I write fanfiction it will be about that since it seems outside the scope of the comic at this point.

There’s no WAY we find out what the intellibeam laserstation does any time soon – this reveal is definitely getting saved, which leaves room for speculation! ‘Intelli’ comes from intelligence or intelligible, ‘beam’ and ‘laser’ both suggest a highly precise and advanced ray of light, and ‘station’ is a designated place for an activity (or a regular stopping point, and now I am imagining a train station for lasers). So, this is intelligent light, light that can shape and direct itself according to what it’s needed for? Or it’s light that can itself be used as a resource or material, a place for creating light or building with it? Light is a theoretically infinite resource, so could tie into Skaia’s ‘unlimited creative potential’ (p.422). It could even be involved in creating constructs – things with an intelligence of their own – giving lategame players the ability to alchemize their own light kingdom agents to combat the dark.

#homestuck #reaction #SHORT POST !! for once #i was away from my current city for two months and in that time my favorite local pizza place has started making Butter Paneer Pizza #which is garlic butter base (no red sauce) paneer jalapenos fresh cilantro crispy onions mango chutney and cheese #it might be the best thing ive ever eaten but im FLAT broke and cant afford takeout ever again #but huge shout out to the genius behind this recipe all the same #chrono

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softquietsteadylove · 1 month ago

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Arranged marriage au. First kiss between them. It starts of sweet and gentle and then 5 mins later they are *heavily* making out. It doesn’t really go further for now, bc Thena is still working through her fear of men I think, but yeah. Please make this so fluffy that I could use it as a pillow. I hope you enjoy your day, you are a wonderful writer and I love reading your work ❤️

Thena liked coffee. Maybe he had always just assumed she preferred tea being a Brit and all. But Thena actually preferred to start her morning with a good amount of caffeine.

She did the whole thing, too--clasped the mug with both hands and sipped it gently still in her robe. It seemed to really bring her some peace to start the day that way. It was cute.

Gil lingered in the doorway leading out to the living room, which would put him in direct sight of the kitchen. He didn't want to disturb her morning routine yet. She didn't have any classes today, so she was probably enjoying the start to a day off for her. And she just looked so pretty, morning softness in her skin, bleary eyes, blonde hair all wavy around her shoulders.

"Hm," Thena sighed aloud after getting her first deep sip. She hadn't even emerged from her room for coffee in her first weeks living here. Either she had restrained herself or she secretly had a coffee maker in her room that he didn't know about. "Gil?"

Caught. He chuckled, coming out of his hiding place and ruffling his bed head. "Why do you look like that when you first wake up and I look like I just got out of the ring?"

Thena puffed through her nose at his joke. Even her sense of humour needed to be warmed up slowly, but she didn't tell him to shut up, either. "Sleep well?"

"Not bad," he acknowledged, although it wasn't a restful sleep and more sheer exhaustion. He looked down at his hands, making sure they weren't showing too much signs of use after his late work day yesterday. "You?"

"Hm," she purred, smiling into her coffee again. "Quite."

Gil accepted the brief answer. He moved around the kitchen island. "Any left for me?"

Thena moved out of the way of her precious coffee to allow him some.

"Thanks." He had been surprised initially, assuming she would prefer a coffee pod machine, maybe a fancy espresso machine that could make cappuccinos and lattes at home.

But Thena, being Thena, didn't know how to work them. She'd had a simple, old coffee maker at home, so that was all she wanted here, too. He at least sprang for the finest beans, but if it had more than four buttons, Thena would end up asking him how to use the damn thing anyway.

She still hadn't figured out the blender.

"Work?"

"Unfortunately," he chuckled as he poured and then immediately took a swig of the steaming hot liquid. "That an invitation to stay home?"

Thena feigned a shrug. "You do whatever you want, I'll be enjoying my day off. I would have thought as a crime boss if you wanted a day off you simply...could."

Unfortunately Gil thought of it as being the other way around. Crime waited for no man, and such. And most of all, half of what he really did was putting out fire after fire. Goons could handle administration, even turf wars. But the Boss handled emergencies.

"I wish, sweetheart," he sighed a little into his cup too. He looked over at her, leaning over the island, cradling her coffee like it was part of her dragon's hoard. "You enjoy--want me to bring back something for dinner?"

Thena visibly considered it. His eyes travelled down to her bare feet on the smooth tiles of the floor (with in-floor heating so she wouldn't get cold, of course). "That could be nice."

"Done," he nodded, finishing his cup. "Text me anything you're craving, or I'll just bring home something I know you like."

Thena said nothing, tilting her head at him with this funny grin on those lips of hers. She had no idea how alluring she looked as her hair slipping off her shoulder and swayed for a second. It found a home against the slope of her cleavage.

Gil looked down into his empty cup so as not to admire his wife's beauty a little too much.

"You like all this domesticity," Thena surmised, maybe even accused, grin and all. "Is that why you purchased a wife?"

He scowled; he didn't like it when she referred to their arrangement as a transaction. But she corrected, standing up to her full height and sliding closer to him against the edge of the counter.

"You know what I mean," she allowed.

But he had to admit, she had a point. He did like someone to come home to, and someone to see him off in the mornings like this was doubly nice. "I guess it's kind of nice to not just be me and the birds in the morning."

Thena laughed gently, but all he could see was the way her hair got a little caught against her earring. He reached out and she didn't move away, allowing him to loosen it for her. This particular lock joined its comrade resting against her shoulder.

He kissed her cheek first. It was affection she had been receptive to before, and he didn't want to push her too hard. But she turned her cheek toward him, maybe even leaned into it. Call him a romantic at heart, but there was something nice about kissing his wife in the morning.

"You'll-"

Thena turned her head as he leaned in again. He managed to avoid accidental contact, but they were completely nose to nose, eyes darting around each other's faces. Her lips were faintly pursed, held open mid-sentence.

Gil closed his eyes. Whatever was about to happen, it had to be up to Thena.

Mercifully, she leaned in first. Their lips pressed together in a brief and almost innocent way. It wasn't necessarily their first kiss, but it felt like it was. Gil moved his hands to her cheeks, tilting her head just so.

Thena moved closer to him, her hands finding a home on his chest. He slept in minimal clothing but he had mustered the effort to put a shirt on before coming downstairs. Her fingers pressed into the organic cotton fabric.

He pulled back, hovering closer to her lips. "Is this okay?"

He heard her swallow, and the idea of her having some butterflies charmed him. He peeked down between them, although her breasts obstructed some of the view. He saw her toes curl faintly and smiled.

"Hm."

Thena leaned in again. Their lips moved together more and more naturally, and she really wasn't a half bad kisser, all things considered. Their lips kept meeting like waves against a shore, and soon her hands were sliding up his shoulders to lock behind his neck.

His hands slid down to her waist, leaning forward. She was so soft, and she fit against him like he had sculpted her and wished her to life. And what a work of art she was.

Thena moaned.

It was soft and quiet, like the rest of their morning so far. But the cute, sexy little sound did something to him. It made him want more. He leaned in even more, pinning her between the counter and him. He put his hand against the edge so it wouldn't dig into her back, which arched naturally.

It brought her further away and yet she pulled him with her, just as eager to keep going. Their tongues met tentatively at first, but then more and more eagerly. Soon she was taking in breath sharply between each stroke of her tongue seeking his.

Gil groaned. It wasn't quite as melodic as hers. He sounded like a desperate man finally graced with the softness of touch, in his opinion. His brain shut out the rest of his day--and everything else around them for that matter. He was just a man trying to kiss his wife.

"Gil."

Fuck, if she knew what she did to him. Well, he didn't want her to know. But her breasts pushed against his chest, letting him feel how full and soft they were. Her knee bent against his and in reply his bent, landing between her legs until he realised it was the muscle of her inner thigh against it.

Thena pulled back, eyes wide. The softness of the slow morning had left her, her eyes sharp and her breathing heavy. Her skin had an enticing flush to it, even extending into her pillar of a neck. Her hands left him as if she had been too close to putting her hands on a hot pan. "S-Sorry... "

Gil swallowed down the desire raging inside of him. He moved carefully, extracting himself from her. This wasn't for the sake of a horned up old mob boss like him finally getting some ass. "No--no, don't be sorry. I'm sorry."

Thena's jaw bobbed but no sound came out. She was rooted to the spot, although something dawned on her and she darted her eyes away. Her robe had parted, but she tugged the hem of her nightdress down over those legs of hers.

Those legs of hers would be the death of him.

Gil pushed his mug away from the edge and turned. "I'll get ready for work. Think about what you want for dinner. Just text me if you wan anything."

He just barely peeked over his shoulder at her. She was still wrapping her head around what had just happened. He would find it cute if his brain weren't so aggressively consumed with what had just happened. He didn't want to be a man desperate and howling for his wife after one kiss, and yet here he was. But he was still looking forward to coming home to her later.

#Thenamesh Marriage Contract AU #thank you so much for the ask!!!!#I'm so glad you like this au #and also I am obsessed with the expression 'so fluffy I could use it as a pillow'#that is my specialty #it's what I wanna write it's what I wanna read #I hope you like it!#I like the bit you included about Thena's fear of men #because you're right she's been through a lot in her life and she's nowhere near ready for anything too heavy right now #she and Gil are still figuring out what they are #enemies to friends to lovers I'll die on that hill #kissing? check #making out? love it #Thena is there like holy shit when was the last time I kissed someone like that?#the answer is maybe never #she let instincts guide her #and then was mortified because in her mind #she's not supposed to develop feelings for Gil he's like...her boss or something #in Gil's mind he just doesn't want her to feel pressured to do anything #and also the man lives with an ethereal beauty he can only do so much #for the rest of the day he's spacing out at work thinking about making out like teenagers #and Thena never does text him because she's embarrassed #but he comes home with sushi and bibimbap and she falls further

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umathurwin · 2 days ago

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pogue chicken

john b routledge x kiara carrera; nsfw 18+ below the cut

Summary: Pogue chicken.

That’s the only way he could think to describe it. JJ and Pope played gay chicken for years until it started to get too serious and they couldn’t look each other in the eye for a day or two afterwards and John B wasn’t sure who exactly won or lost. But this time, instead of two friends who needed to fuck it out, it’s… wait.

***

Or, Kiara and John B decide to test the waters of what's considered 'macking'.

tags, warnings, and more on ao3!

Kiara held the lid tightly on top of the blender and hit pulse, making the ice and protein powder jump and spasm in the glass. When the contents became stuck, she shut it off and shook the entire unit on the counter with a clanging noise before turning the blades back on.

John B stumbled in, heel of his hand pressed against his eye socket. He marched over to the kitchen and yanked the cord to the blender out of the wall.

“Kiara, I’ll kill you,” he said, skipping over the question of why she was making a damn shake when the owner of said blender and the powder inside it was so hungover he could die.

“What?” she asked innocently, inspecting the now-dead blender to see if she could maybe choke down what she’d done so far. Nope. “I needed a pick-me-up after last night. I can give you whatever doesn’t fit in my cup. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Y’know what sounds nice? A McDouble. That’s got protein too,” he said, grabbing a to-go cup from the counter, dumping out the tequila mixture, and replacing it with sink water. After chugging most of it, he poured the rest directly over his head. “How are you not in fucking shambles this morning? You had, like, a fifth all to yourself and I nearly pulled trig for you.”

“I don’t get hungover,” she smugly announced, plugging the blender back in and giving him a warning look to step out onto the porch. “Alcohol and I just have… a synergy.”

“The frontman of Smash Mouth had a similar philosophy.”

Before he could reach the front door, she made eye contact with him and turned the blender back on. He winced and tried to open the door, but it was still locked from the night before. “Wait, wait!” he pleaded until she shut the machine off. “Is that… my shirt?”

Kiara looked down and nodded at the Tijuana Panthers shirt she’d stolen from his room last night, before accepting the half-made pullout. “Sure is,” she admitted smugly, twirling around in it and giving him confirmation that she only had on panties underneath. “It’ll make its way back to you, I promise.”

John B smirked, hand on the doorknob. “How about right now? Just go ahead and take it off—”

Kiara turned the blender back on once again. John B actually made a pained noise, and dipped out to the patio. “I am never drinking again!” she heard him shout from outside.

***

They threw a rager at the Chateau three days later.

It wasn’t even justifiable at this point, the amount they were partying, but JJ always seemed to wave it off with some variation of it’s summer! Why not? Not to mention he’d gotten a job recently at a liquor store and eagerly helped himself to a few items here and there that he marked as defective or damaged. Pope bets he’ll last six weeks before the owner catches him smuggling out a handle or keg. Cleo bet two.

Still, John B had thoroughly learned his lesson after the Memorial Day party last week, and monitored his own pouring. He even used a shot glass he nicked from the pub on the boardwalk to measure out the vodka, keeping him at a respectful buzz that JJ had surpassed at lunch.

Speaking of: his blonde liability was already starting to brag to partygoers about his famous trick— a back tuck off the roof, a stunt that last had him limping and swollen for three days—and John B knew it was time to collect him.

“Hey, brother!” he asked, throwing an arm around his neck and steering JJ away from the dubious audience he’d amassed, who were only slightly let down by the loss of their show. “Looks like you’re having a good time. You seen Pope lately?”

He scrunched his nose, thinking back to the six minutes of memory he was working with by now. “Nah.”

“Kie?”

He shook his head, waves bouncing around, and he grinned at the dizzy feeling he’d already given himself. JJ lit up. “Oh! I did see Cleo go into your room earlier.”

John B snorted, draining the rest of his metered dose and throwing the cup into the black garbage bag lazily hung open on the oven. “Yeah. Stoner central in there.”

“Aha, we got one down!” JJ excitedly announced, raising his hand up for a high five. John B rolled his eyes but still returned it. “Let’s celebrate.”

Before he could even spit out celebrate what, exactly, JJ had already pulled him further into the kitchen and grabbed two storebrand Solo cups. He poured a bit of jungle juice mixture into both, sloshing reddish liquid over the sides and staining the counter. JJ reached for bottles and dumped in amounts without looking, hands working faster than his mind, faster than John B could reach out and stop him—

With two full cups, JJ grabbed both and gave a half-assed swirl to combine the warm ingredients. He shoved one into his best friend’s hand and already began a toast.

“Jayj, I’m really not sure I should—”

“To lesbians and virgins—”

“—I’ve been trying to be careful tonight—”

“—thanks for nothing!”

“Oh, fuck it.”

It’s one drink, he thought to himself. What’s the worst it can do?

He let his throat open and poured the spiked juice (or really, juiced spirits) down, swallowing without thinking. Most of it slid right down without hardly touching any tastebuds, but the denser juice coated his mouth with a syrupy acid. He tried to ignore the gasoline burn over his tongue and teeth, singeing his esophagus, around the lining of his stomach, churning, roiling, desperate to see the light again—

Yeah. He’s done for.

He had to push JJ out of his way, who squeaked out a hey! at the shove. A countdown clock appeared over John B’s head, and it was only a matter of time before someone’s shoes took on a new tinge. And smell.

John B stumbled across the living room, bypassed his own bedroom where he could see people smoking a damn joint and nearly crashed into the shut door of his father’s room. His hands shot to the top of the door frame, fumbling around for the key until his fingers made purchase with cool metal. He was nauseous, not drunk, but it was still dicey fitting the key in and locking the door behind him once inside.

The key clattered to the floor as he rushed to the bathroom, throwing open the door and sinking to his knees. Vomit had already filled his mouth, so it was just about aiming into the toilet and not making a bigger mess than needed. Tears filled his eyes and his nose ran as bile scorched his soft palate and splashed into the porcelain. Drool hung from his lips in between retches, which he appreciated as a balm even if it stained his t-shirt.

His carefully crafted buzz all came back up, just because his peer pressured him to take an AMF shot. Bastard.

“Christ, are you okay?” he heard from behind him, scaring him enough to jump and smack his head into the lifted seat. It’s Kiara, he realized, as he coughed up once more and rubbed his crown.

“Yeah. ‘Cept for the concussion.” She entered the bathroom and grabbed a rag from the closet, then turned on the sink to warm up the water. John B continued panting into the bowl. “JJ is a persuasive man with a heavy pour.”

He struggled to his feet as she wet the rag and wrung out the excess. She handed it to him and he scrubbed his face roughly. “He’s great when you get to know him, I swear.”

John B rolled his eyes at her and threw the rag into the sink. “Why aren’t you out there? I thought you and alcohol had a synergy.”

“It’s called knowing when to stop, cowboy,” she explained, watching him flush the toilet and wash his hands up. Kiara leaned against the door frame with folded arms. “She said to stop. I took solace in here to avoid… well, to avoid JJ.”

He nodded understandingly, rinsing his mouth out with sink water. John B paused after turning the tap off, shaking his hands dry. “Wait. How did you get in here, anyways?”

Kie scoffed. “Top of the door frame. Yeah, I really had to answer your riddles three.”

John B sighed, not as annoyed at the invasion of his safe space as he should be. He dug his damp hands into his eyes and shrugged out his shoulders. “Wanna go back out there, Lancelot?”

They weren’t supposed to be in there. Away from the crowd, that is. He’s the host and she’s the lively free spirit of every party, each of them floating around the function looking for vibes to curate and moods to lift. Sure, everyone had to tap out eventually, but he almost felt a certain guilt finding comfort in the back room alone with her as opposed to the middle of the active throng.

Fortunately, she felt no such guilt. Kiara shook her head and stepped back to plop down on the bed, presumably where she’d been when he burst in and spilled his guts. “Wanna spoon instead?”

It was… a joke. Schrödinger’s flirting, where she meant it as much as he did. Good for her, John B is as playful as they come, and scrambled into the bed after her with a boyish smile.

A small part of her wanted to face him, to teasingly imply she’d be the big spoon, but a much stronger part of her had been eyeing his thick forearms and was itching to feel them wrapped around her. So she rolled away, and let her friend slide in place.

It was warm enough that neither felt the need to clamor under the sheets, and the heavy body tucked behind her was throwing off plenty of heat anyways. He’s clingy, too, burying his face into her curls, nestling each of his legs behind hers, pushing her top thigh forward until his pelvis slotted against her ass.

They were… awfully close.

Poguehood meant physical touch and sacrificing personal space, a lesson she learned before leaving the seventh grade. Pope plays that chopsticks game in his downtime and forces everyone to make personalized handshakes. John B won’t let anyone pass by him without dapping him up. JJ had koala DNA, the way he clings to his friends. Even Cleo, who had assimilated just within the last eighteen months, had taken to running her fingers through Kiara’s hair absentmindedly when they caught up on old episodes of ER. Having her platonic associates permanently in her breathing room was just part of the game.

Still…

“This doesn’t feel weird to you?” she mumbled, looking back gently until his nose brushed against her cheek. His soft breaths ghosted down her neck, never faltering.

John B threaded his hands around her waist and interlinked his fingers. “Mmm. No, actually, it feels pretty good. If you can believe it.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to him a little more. Even in the dark, she could see he needed to shave, a 10 o’clock shadow coming in along his strong, twitching jawline. “You’re a dumbass. I just meant, like, Pogue rules? Y’don’t think this is crossing a line?”

He shrugged, eyes fluttered shut. “We’re just lying down. I don’t think this is crossing any lines.” Big John had a wall clock, an old-style mahogany slab that ticked heavily in their shared pauses. They could just barely hear it over the thrum of people and music on the other side. “I can shove you off, if you want.”

Kiara giggled. “Please don’t. I’m very comfortable.”

And with the vaguest hint of a green light, he kissed her on the cheek and pulled her closer. Her stop in John B’s bedroom earlier had her floating off into her dreams, and the steady ride and fall of his chest didn’t hurt.

At some point in the night, after the music died down and their guests threaded out to walk (stagger) home, the temperature dropped. Once the sun set and winds from the northeast swept in along the marshes, it was typical of Nags Head evenings to lose their grip on the afternoon fervor. Kie had cracked a window before lying down, though, so the chill crept its way into Big John’s room.

She woke only once when the sky was black, and she lay on his chest with his arm tucking her against his furnace of a body. Something stirred in her, blearily thinking of how domestic and comfortable they were like this. She adjusted her position a bit and he squeezed her shoulder unconsciously. So friendly.

In the dawn, they’ve separated to the point that his leg half-hung off the mattress. She peeled herself off the barely-disturbed blanket and slipped her shoes on. The key he’d dropped on the floor the night before was returned to its rightful place.

Kiara made sure to grab her jacket on the way out.

***

“You seeing the waves today?” JJ’s voice scratched out through the speakerphone, and John B shook his head like he was actually in the room with him.

“Not right now, since I’m not at the beach. And neither are you, so how do you even know what you’re missing?”

“Watching Tik Tok lives. Lotta tourists are out there today, probably since it’s a lot calmer than yesterday.”

John B scrubbed at his face. “You’re gonna get fired, dude.”

“Pshh. Never. I always keep my head on a sw— Hey! —oh shit, I— how many times do I have to tell you-? —call you later, JB.” Beep beep beep.

“You totally fucking jinxed that,” Kiara announced, strolling into his living room from the patio and shaking her head.

“I know. I’m glad he doesn’t believe in that shit.”

She dropped her backpack on a chair and looked around. “Cleo here?”

“Just missed her,” he tutted, going into the kitchen. “She and Pope went to see a movie. Think it’s a Return of the Jedi airing, or something equally nerdy.”

Kiara nodded. She rolled her shoulder back and flinched. “Holy shit. Yesterday was a mistake.”

“Speak for yourself. I broke some personals.”

She ignored him. “I knew we should’ve left before the waves got too big. My body feels like a beaten rug.”

“You just need a little more muscle to handle the big waves. Go to the gym more. Maybe after you drink all my protein shakes?” John B suggested, rummaging through his pantry for the chocolate powder he loved so much— and so did Kie.

“You’re a jerk. I’m in pain, here,” she pouted, pulling off her t-shirt by the neck to reveal her bikini underneath. “Seriously, I was gonna go out again today, but I think I’ll legit injure myself.”

John B slammed the cabinet shut and came back to the living room. His lips tugged up a bit. “Well… I could help.”

“You finish working on that time machine?”

He furrowed his brows. “What, so you can not go out yesterday?”

“No. Avoid meeting you.”

John B clutched a hand to his chest, feigning deep offense. “Well, I was gonna give you a back rub, but never-fucking-mind.”

Her face lit up. “Wait, really? That would be so nice.”

“Lie down.”

Kiara carefully lowered herself onto the pullout bed of the couch, permanently extended due to John B’s rotating roster of crashed-out guests. It wasn’t the coziest place to spend the night, she knew firsthand, but infinitely better than any backseat or front yard that their drunk friends often found themselves in.

He followed suit, straddling her lower back and ass with his thighs and cracking his knuckles. “Let me know if i’m going too hard, yeah?”

“Right, like you could—”

With no barrier between his big hands and her back save for her string bikini, he pushed all of his upper body weight onto her back, forcing out several cracks from her tense spine. Kiara gasped, a pleasured noise that slipped out and right into his smug ears.

“That’s it, just relax,” he cooed, digging his fingers into her ribcage and working at the tension in her muscles. “Think you could do that again for me?”

“I— what?”

“Shh. Deep inhale,” he instructed, sucking in a breath with her, “and exhale.” When Kiara obeyed, John B pressed again with a smaller, still satisfying crackle of her joints relaxing under his touch. “Perfect. Feel better?”

Um. Fuck, yeah, she felt better. Her elbows bent, ready to lift herself back up and thank him with a clear head, but his heavy hand met her shoulderblade. “Easy, girl. I literally just started.”

She nodded, mind swimming, and settled back down under his gaze. His hands smoothed out over the back of her ribcage, ghosting down and pushing back up. Air was forced out of her lungs with each draw of his hands, and she struggled to keep quiet.

John B’s fingers worked over her back like he made it himself, knew exactly how her muscles should feel. Found every aching knot to massage out. Minded every sensitive spot to graze carefully and sought where he could really dig into the flesh to relieve pressure. That whole quiet thing was abandoned quickly, given he seemed to be egging her on, desperate for those sounds. Any move that made a little squeak, he’d do it again, harder, eager to hear anything he could wring from her tired, sore body.

One particularly good thumb press against a thick knot not only forced a moan from her bitten lips, but caused her back to arch a little until her ass met his crotch and— oh.

Kiara chuckled, brain fuzzy. “Are you hard?”

He shrugged, she could tell even with her eyes shut. “Natural reaction to the… noises. I can stop, if you—”

“No,” she cut him off, hoping she didn’t sound too desperate. “I don’t care. And your hands feel…” she inhaled as he coaxed into her skin more with his knuckles, “really fucking good.”

John B exhaled sharply. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Oh, and that made her stomach jump. Without saying anything, she reached behind her, knocking his wrists out of the way, and tugged the string of her bikini until it fully untied. “There… better access, right?” A real hefty barrier between him and what she wanted.

It was quiet at first, and she briefly worried that she’d done something wrong, until he loudly gulped. “Yeah, yeah. Better access.”

His hands rested on her shoulders, loosened under his manipulation but only just started. He trailed down her back, and even though it was just a thin strand of polyester keeping him from fully touching her, something was thrilling about getting his hands on her with nothing separating them. Salt-worn palms on terracotta, fingers splayed like vines. He reached low enough to rest his thumbs in the soft divots at the base of her spine. He kneaded around there, tempted to drop his hands even lower, but he got a better idea.

So his fingers skirted up. Except instead of retracing their path up to her shoulders, they dipped around the sides to her hips and waist. He was firm, he knew she was ticklish with a light touch and he pushed between her body and her limp arms, but he eased up as he reached the sides of her tits that pressed out from under her and squeezed. It was purely unnecessary, the pretense of a massage all but abandoned, but she moaned softly and allowed him to essentially grope her.

John B continued working, seeking out sensitive spots and kneading out the tension with his callused fingers, with the occasional dip to feel up her tits. Perfectly normal thing for two friends two do, but John B has always had big eyes and a matching stomach.

Kiara could feel his fingers toy with the string taut against the nape of her neck. “S’it alright… better access, y’know?” She tried not to smirk but she nodded gently, tilting her head forward so he could pull at that loop as well.

But it wasn’t enough to just untie it, he fully pulled the strings out of her hair and onto the couch. If she sat up too quickly, she’d be fully topless. Hell, she was fully topless now—

One of his hands remained on her shoulderblade, pretending to rub out a knot, while the other trailed up along her spine, cupping softly around the back of her neck, carding through the tighter curls at the base of her head. His hand was massive, something she’d known since giddily comparing hand sizes back in high school, but it was one thing to align your pinkies and wrists and another to feel the possessive clutch of his digits along her skull. He cradled her for a moment, seemingly taking in the feeling himself, then his fingers started to curl, tangling up in her locks.

Then he pulled.

Sick fucking man, no good explanation for his behavior, but Kiara had no reservations so he continued. Her head tilted back just the slightest bit, giving into the grip he literally held on her, and the same noises slipped from her mouth but she said nothing. His other hand slipped down to feel her tit again, daring his fingertips to even slide between her and the mattress itself, chasing the sensitive peak of her nipple that pressed against the couch. Hilarious to think it started as a platonic backrub.

Gravel crunched under tires outside. All of John B’s work was instantly undone as her body stiffened underneath him. JJ.

His hands flew back to himself and he jumped off the pullout, shaking out his arms and looking away while Kiara scrambled for her t-shirt and slid it over her body. As their friend’s combat boots stomped up the porch stairs, they both looked down to realize her bikini top was still on the sheets, and he lunged down to snatch it up and stuff it in his shorts pocket. Her eyes were wide, but he flashed her a thumbs-up.

JJ, for all his brilliance and situational awareness, took no notice of their lack of breath, pink faces, or guilty demeanor. Or Kiara’s shirt being backwards. “Who wants to hear the story of how I got fired, and who wants to see what I smuggled out before he almost called the cops?”

***

Pogue chicken.

The stupid Twinkie held an ungodly amount of gas, a win-lose when you remember he could go ages in between fill-ups, but when every gas pump in the Cut ran on island time, those trips were a whole-afternoon event. And a bill, he thought, arms folded, back against the scorching van and brows knitted into a scowl. He eyed the meter ticking up slowly but steadily and thumbed at the seam of his bifold wallet.

He’s a one-track mind kind of guy. It’s a miracle he even made it to the gas station when he hadn’t been able to think about a goddamn thing since the backrub. His palms still tingled. Sure, he’d been the one to pitch it, and things got a little out of hand by the end (or, in hand). But this was gonna have to end at some point. Hell, there were rules to this shit! At least… he thought there were. It’s been years, it’s not like he could remember why they all decided on a blanket ban on Pogues with benefits. Honestly, it didn’t even sound like something they’d actually agree to now, but there’d certainly never been any discussion of reneging something they took so seriously before.

Kiara clambered over the center console and leaned out of the rolled-down window, gingerly resting her arms on the door and squinting at the sun. “God, it gets hot in there. Does it have much longer?”

John B jerked back to reality. Fuck, right, she’d wanted to join him on the adventure. He checked the pump again; only twelve gallons in. “Sit tight, sunshine.”

Technically, she started it, what with offering to spoon when he was vulnerable. Kiara literally invited him into bed with her after so many drinks, and he accepted, even though they’re just friends and it’s a pretty weird thing to do sober. He supposed he could lie to himself, act like he was just fucked up and would’ve laid on anything vaguely horizontal and not made entirely of hornets. It wasn’t his fault.

“I’m going inside to get a Red Bull. You want anything?” she offered, stumbling out through the driver door and catching her balance on a cement pole. Once steady, she looked up at him and had to shield her face from the sun.

“Uh—yeah. One of those Starbucks drinks. In the glass bottle?”

Then he remembered the smell of her tropical conditioner filling his nose and the smooth expanse of her skin against his. He thought of the pattern of her sleepy breaths, chest rising and falling as she relaxed in his arms. She was so soft, so warm in his arms and he thanked God above he managed to not get too worked up having her cinched up against him. He loved every damn minute of it, and if this was the game she was willing to play, then the backrub surely proved he was ready to win.

Kie nodded. “You got it. Vanilla?”

Tired of being ripped from his thoughts about her, John B snapped his head over. “Yes, vanilla.”

She frowned and turned on her heel. “Yeah, take that tone.”

The fuck was even his end goal? Bragging rights, only between the two of them? Sex? An awkward conversation where they mutually backpedal ‘before it gets too far’? What even is too far? Is the person who finds out the answer to that question the winner? What the fuck was so taboo and hot about sneaking around their friends over this stupid rule?

A less mature, less forethinking part of his brain wandered to where they’d go from here. The Pogues were famously pretty touchy, but something about a kiss just felt like a huge step to overcome. How the hell did they pass that off as platonic behavior? They weren’t European.

John B physically shook his head out. What the fuck was he even thinking? They hadn’t done anything wrong. He’s just… a weird perv for thinking about his friend like this, like he always had. The last week with Kiara was nothing more than average Pogue behavior: he’d had to cram into a twin bed at JJ’s house before, stiffly crushed against the wall as blondie drooled onto his flat pillow. Pope had cracked everyone’s spine before with this trick he saw online— he had John B cross his arms over his chest and lifted him with a stunning amount of strength, jostling his torso until his back sounded like a deck of cards. His bandanas were Cleo’s bandanas at this point.

Nothing was weird about any of that, he decided, so it wasn’t weird now.

Kiara skipped out of the store swinging a plastic bag on her wrist just as John B ripped off the receipt from the pump and climbed back into the van. In the passenger seat, she handed over his requested beverage, and excitedly tore open the cardboard backing of a Chapstick package.

“Thought you were a diehard Carmex girl,” he tutted, quoting her own words from when he noticed she’d made her latest tube into a keychain.

She held up a small pink stick. “I am. But my little crow brain saw they had strawberry daiquiri flavor, and it all happened so fast.”

John B pulled out on to the main road, nose scrunched. “Daiquiri? It doesn’t… actually taste like rum, right?”

Kiara popped the lid off and twisted the balm up. “Surely no? That sounds gross.” She applied a generous layer and pressed her lips together, getting a sense for the smell and flavor. “Nah, no rum. But there’s something else to it. Tastes like summer.”

He scoffed, slowing down for a red light. “Summer? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Fair. Guess you’d need to try it yourself to know.”

John B stuck his hand out without thinking, expecting her to fork over the tube and let him, y’know, try it himself. Instead, Kiara used that extension to grab his wrist, pull him close, and plant a messy kiss on his lips. It was far more than a friendly peck, really smearing the balm across his lips to transfer over as much as she could, and spit started to pool around both of their mouths until her eager tongue slipped out to catch the excess. His hands scrambled, one darting out to white-knuckle the steering wheel and the other on the center console, anything to ground himself on something that wasn’t her because holy fuck what is she doing why is she kissing me.

When she decided he’d gotten enough of a try, she let go of his wrist and allowed him to sit back. He absentmindedly pressed his lips together, brain slowly processing the sugary tang of strawberry and Kiara’s mouth on his lips. Sure enough, it did kinda taste like summer. No other way to describe it.

“Light’s green,” she announced smoothly, admiring the mojito and piña colada that also came in the pack.

***

“Kieee,” Cleo sang from the front hallway.

“Back here!” she called, voice echoing out of her kitchen along the oak floors that Cleo padded down. “Stop touching that!”

Cleo’s eyebrow lifted, and she nodded amusedly when she made it to the back and realized Kiara had a friend over. John B quickly rescrewed the cap onto an Everclear bottle as Kie measured out water from the sink. The Carreras’ kitchen had a fancy microwave that extended out from the island, and she carefully lowered the glass dish onto the plate.

It was the tail end of her “cooking” session, most of the Jell-O boxes already opened with torn, dusty packets littering the counters. She had an impressive system, a German train station of premeasured spirits, Pyrex bowls, rows of plastic cups waiting to be filled. Kiara gestured wordlessly at the last of the Jell-O packs and John B, ignoring the scissors in front of him, ripped them open with his teeth.

“Finally wrapping up this batch. I’m storing all of them in the fridge for now to get started, but be sure to keep them cold until tomorrow night to set,” Kiara explained, removing the bowl from the microwave and looking for the whisk.

“Beautiful. I still think JJ is insane for askin’ you to do this.”

Kiara snickered. “What birthday boy wants, birthday boy gets.”

“I’ve never made these and not made a mess. You’re a lifesaver,” Cleo thanked again.

“Oh, she’s made, like, four messes so far,” John B poked, making Kie roll her eyes playfully as she stirred in the blooming orange powder.

Cleo’s eyes dragged over to John B, down to the phone in his hand and the white granite countertop on which he sat. “Are you plannin’ on helping her, or…?”

“No!” Kiara snapped, never stopping the whisk. “He can’t do fractions nor can he figure out my parents’ microwave. The only thing he’s allowed to do is pour.”

John B smiled and flashed a thumbs up. “Right where I’m supposed to be.”

Bartender Kie added the various clear liquors and finished stirring before snapping her fingers at the idling boy to start divvying out the cups. Cleo raised her eyebrow and mimed a whip-cracking motion, and Kiara nodded solemnly.

Cleo opened the fridge, scanning over the scattered rainbow of cups that sat in a big Tupperware container. She roughly counted out how many of each color they had, glancing back at the ones John B was currently pouring, and Kie was currently lidding. “The green batch is a little small, no? Somethin’ go wrong?”

Kie’s face lit up. “Oh! No, but that reminds me. Green apples don’t have alcohol in them. They’re just plain Jell-O.”

She looked to John B, who shrugged innocently. “Why?”

“After midnight, slowly work these in. Wean him off. It’s always helped me slow him down while he thinks the party is still going.”

Cleo threw her head back, eyes closed, body swaying back with a loose grip on the fridge handles until her arms fully extended. “You’re so goddamn smart. Come here.”

She stepped away from the cold, letting the doors slam shut on their own, and grabbed Kiara’s face with both hands. Cleo tilted her head a bit and placed a big kiss right on her friend’s lips, who was too stunned to protest. Or care, really.

“If that’s what Jell-O shots get me, what do I get for making you dinner?” she asked, seemingly not noticing John B frozen in place.

“You get to watch me eat dinner.”

With Cleo’s car packed up with the shots and peeling out of the driveway, John B and Kiara waved her off from the patio. “Y’all come back now, y’hear?” he drawled, making her punch his shoulder playfully and turn back inside.

“Kitchen’s clean. Jell-O is out of my hair—literally… What do we do now?” Kiara hummed, thinking if there was anything worth watching lately.

“Make out?”

It was her turn to ice up, avoiding eye contact. His fingers itched to reach out, to lift her chin, but it was a marathon. Not a race.

“A bit much, isn’t it?” Her voice was low, like they weren’t alone.

He shook his head.

“Really?” she was a bit louder this time. She scanned over his dark eyes, tanned skin, full lips. “Things have been weird lately.”

John B knew many things about his friend Kiara. He knew she hated reality TV and having to drive. He knew she took off her shoes in everyone’s house except for JJ’s. She thought tarot was stupid but lived and died by her horoscope. She had a nearly rehearsed scathing rant about disposable vapes, but would beg for a rip whenever she’s drunk and at a party.

He also knew she was never afraid to speak her mind, and she was tactful. This wasn’t about her. Had he misstepped, her thumbs would’ve been dug into his eye sockets back when he was giving her a massage. Before then, even. There was zero chance of overstepping with her, of crossing a boundary without her voicing it. Something he always loved about her.

Yet she still looked up at him, white knuckling the granite countertop, blinking expectantly. Smart girl. Giving him an opportunity to throw his hands up and say, no, I’m actually done messing around with my hot best friend behind our other friends’ backs, thanks though!

… Right.

John B shrugged coolly. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart. I don’t recall doing anything that friends don’t do all the time.”

Kiara withered under his hard gaze. “You always share Chapstick like that, I guess?” she asked, tossing out her final line. Last chance to back out. Make a joke of it on his way out.

He didn’t need the help, though. “How did Cleo’s taste?”

She narrowed her eyes— clever boy. Her face broke out into a smile. “My room?”

He was more handsy during the massage, she noticed. Holding himself back, she assumed, lest their casual makeout spiral into something neither of them can justify if questioned.

Still, he was a great kisser, especially when he got to show off a little more than caught off guard by Chapstick-sharing. John B sat on her bed with his back pressed against her wooden headboard, her straddling his thighs with her hands on his shoulders. His own hands rested on her ass, not tightly but enough to ground himself while he licked into her mouth.

Her fingers slipped through his dark waves, careful not to tug too hard on his sensitive follicles. All she wanted was to guide his head back, positioning his face exactly how she wanted, and he was more than obliging.

Kiara admired his attempts to keep his hands still, same with his hips. Any other man would’ve pushed this into something much dirtier already, but her well-behaved friend was struggling to keep cool while she moaned into his lips. She rewarded him with a grind downwards onto his crotch, and his fingertips dug into her hips. Almost a plea.

Her fucking phone started ringing.

It was uncharacteristic of her to even have the sound on, she wasn’t ancient. But part of her feared some issue with the shots and decided to have it ready in case Cleo gave her a call about a crisis.

She leaned out from John B’s hold to reach her phone on the night stand, picking it up and answering without even reading the screen. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’d like to speak with Miss Carrera?” the caller asked, professional enough for her to not hang up but casual enough for her stomach not to sink into her ass. She climbed off John B’s lap, who whined softly with extended arms.

“This is she.”

“Hey, this is Marissa from the Twin Liquors on Windjammer? JJ Maybank listed you as a reference, that you were his manager for two years?”

John B nearly broke a vessel in his skull trying not to die laughing, so she batted him away. Might as well try to secure another liquor plug now. “Yes! Yes, I was his supervisor and he was a great employee…”

***

John B emerged from his bedroom and was smacked with a loud ass haze permeating into the halls. Amazingly, the source wasn’t even indoors, but the trio of chuckleheads passing around some resin-stained glass on the veranda.

“Next rip is all yours,” JJ announced to the man adjusting to the sunlight, pretending he wasn’t about to politely pass it to Cleo at his right.

“All good here. I’m about to take Kiara to get her car detailed, and I don’t wanna drive too buzzed.”

Pope squinted, reaching forward for his water bottle. “Can’t she just get it vacuumed out at a car wash? Is that really a two-person task?”

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. “I think she’s dropping off the car at some Kook kid’s house who owns a steamer and is saving up for a dirt bike. Guess it’s an all-day thing. I didn’t really ask about it.”

JJ pouted but still handed the bong to Cleo. “Are you sure? We might actually feel guilty for packing it with your weed.”

John B eyed the silver grinder in her lap. “That ain’t mine. You’re smoking Kie’s shit, so I would figure out a way to replace that ASAP.”

“What?” Pope threw his head back. “She’s gonna have our skins. Why is her stuff here?!”

He shrugged again. “Probably left it when she was here recently,” he mused, tugging on his boat shoes and revealing through cadence alone that he was withdrawing from the conversation. John B halfheartedly waved to the group and stepped out of the patio.

With a single flick of the lighter, Cleo pulled until the shaft of the bong was the color of a peeled apple. She removed the bowl and cleared it in one go. “That doesn’t bother you guys?” she asked around the smoke, thin wisps puffing out of her lips.

“You milking the glass?” JJ scoffed, eyes glazed over for many reasons as she exhaled a thick cloud. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m secure enough in my own manhood—”

“I meant John B and Kiara obviously fucking, goofy,” Cleo bit. She set the glass down and inspected the bowl to make sure it was cashed. “How long y’all think that’s been going on, anyways?”

JJ and Pope blinked dumbly at each other, waiting for her to burst out laughing at this obvious joke. “I…” the former started.

“What?” the latter finished.

Cleo sighed, handing the bowl and grinder to Pope. “If it were a snake. Maybe they’re not fucking yet, but they’re barrelin’ towards it. Why are they being so secretive about it?”

Pope took the equipment and started to pack the bowl without thinking, but he was still as confused as the boy next to him. “You think… Kiara and John B?”

“There’s just no way,” JJ piped up, finally finding his voice again after that initial shock. “John B hasn’t had a crush on her in years and Kie would die before she touched any of us.”

“Yeah, you’re making an accusation that’s several years too late,” Pope stated, and his friend concurred.

Cleo nodded sagely. “Got it. So you two would judge them.”

“No!” they both shouted, but Pope thought he was ready to defend himself more. “I don’t care what they get up to. It’s just…”

JJ tensed up as his friend trailed off, and Cleo narrowed her eyes. “Just what?”

“The rules,” he blurted, and Pope looked over with wide eyes. “I mean, not rules, but—”

“Oh, Christ. What is he talking about?” she asked.

Pope lifted his shoulders up. “Well… there’s kind of… an agreement in our friend group. We called it no Pogue-on-Pogue macking. Just means we don’t fool around with anyone in the immediate friend group. Avoid drama, all that jazz.”

Cleo balked. “The fuck? How did that even come about?”

The boys shifted uncomfortably once more, throwing guilty glances at each other like puppies caught rooting through the garbage. “Long story short?” JJ started. “We lost Kie for a few years to the other side of the island, and when she came back…”

“Our balls had dropped and we all got crushes on her at once,” Pope finished crudely.

“And we figured the only way to keep us from tearing each others throats out trying to get to her first, was a neutrality pact. Can’t fight over who can have her if we all agree to keep our hands in our pockets.”

Cleo barked out a laugh. “I see, I see. But, you can imagine how that would piss Kiara the fuck off?”

The alarm returned to their eyes. “It’s not like th—” JJ sputtered.

“The rule has been inactive since…” Pope waved his hand around. “Fuck. A long time. Point is, we’ve all moved on, but if John B and Kiara are hiding something from us, it’s probably because they think we’d have some issue with it.”

“And you don’t?”

JJ laughed, eyeing her up and down. “Someone probably would’ve said something when we started—”

“Fair enough,” Cleo cut him off, holding up a palm and wagging her fingers at Pope to request the riches between his.

He handed over the prepared bowl and dusted off his fingertips, looking out at the door where their friend had left just moments ago and pursing his lips. “Do you think we should say something? Let them know we think it’s fine?”

JJ and Cleo locked eyes and answered at the same time. “No!”

***

Dog days of summer.

All things considered, the Outer Banks didn’t have much of a problem with stray animals, so John B had never actually seen any rabid canines wandering the streets, minds melted out of their drooped ears and paws blistering on the pavement. It sounded cruel and unpleasant, but he’d always hoped it was just a figure of speech anyways.

Speaking of cruel and unpleasant— even with John B’s AC malfunctioning, she refused to take off her gray muscle tank. The fabric was splotchy with dark patches, mostly gathered around her neck where the sweat clung. He wondered if she just didn’t have on anything under it.

“Are you sure you don’t just want to go to your place?” Framed like he was concerned over her, but ultimately a plea for his own comfort lest he sweat to death.

“I told you,” she reminded him, “I’ve got family over. I guarantee you my house is not a place you want to be.”

He frowned. “They can’t be that b—”

“Do you know what a Pentecostal is?”

John B looked over. “… No?”

“Yeah. Because I care about you.” She took a deep inhale, and he chose not to press any further. “Why don’t we go to JJ’s place, if you’re so desperate to leave?”

“Hilarious that you would think his AC works. Have you seen how he maintains his truck?” Kiara pursed her lips and nodded. “He’s almost certainly figuring a way into the island club to swim.”

She lulled her head back, beguiled at the thought of her stupid friend jumping a fence for a quick dip until someone noticed. Her eyes fluttered shut and his eyes dragged down her figure.

John B’s hands flexed and clenched again. The humidity clung to the skin between his fingers, and a finger-wagging part of his subconscious knew he would be derisively rejected for proposing any sort of physical contact in this weather. Which, fair.

Like always, he had a better idea.

“Y’know what always makes me feel better in the heat?” Kiara waited for him to finish his sentence, too fucking hot for games. “Sweating.”

Her head snapped up, eyes already cut at him. “I swear to God, if you suggest I go to the gym again, I’ll tear your eyebrows off your face.”

He winced. “They’re such a good feature of mine, too.” John B shook his head. “Not that kind of sweating. This requires no mobility.”

“Mm. My kinda exercise.”

“Jerking off.”

“Bitch, what?”

“No joke,” he defended with a lazy shrug. Didn’t even look over. “Makes you sweat, which cools you off. And you get a free orgasm out of it. Win-win.”

She squirmed on the couch, pressing her thighs together and sitting up a little. “S’that right?” Her voice caught at the end, a betrayal.

“It is.” John B had already peeled off his t-shirt when the temperature hit triple digits before noon, but his hand breached the waistband of his loose shorts up to the first knuckle. Just daring to slip further. “Wanna cool off together?”

“Fuck.”

Muttered desperately at the same time, something they’d joke about normally. Jinx, you owe me a Coke, and all that. But when they’ve both got eager, quick hands below their waistlines, not much is all that funny.

They’re not physically touching, actually seated almost opposite one another on their own love seats, but what the fuck does that matter when they’re making heavy eye contact and only breaking away to focus on their covered fingers working themselves over?

It was stunningly easy to convince her to join him in doing this. Probably because he’d decided for them by diving into his shorts and taking a hold of himself. She’d thrown an arm over her eyes at first, acted mortified that he would do such a thing in his own home, but refused to actually get up and go to another (hotter) room in the house. So she opted to watch, and eventually shrugged while popping open the button on her jean shorts.

He was observant, watched the pattern she’d built up for herself. It was difficult to get the full picture with denim in the way, but he could tell she liked it fast, hot, dipping into her cunt for more of her slick and going right back to her clit. He wondered if this is how she looked when she was getting fucked, chasing her own pleasure with a cock inside her—

John B squeezed himself just a bit too tight at the picture, back arching and slamming his eyes shut to cut off the source. If he didn’t look at her, he couldn’t cum too fast. He thought.

“You do this often?” she asked, fingers slowly dragging in and out of herself with her eyes glued to where his hand worked.

“I— huh?” His brain had entirely left. He was gonna need more context than that. “Jerk off?”

Kiara snorted. “No. Figured that went without saying. I meant, doing it with friends.”

Still on that, hmm. His index finger circled around the head of his cock, and he fought to keep his eyes open. “Not really. But I figure as long as we’re not touching each other, it’s still friendly.”

He expected her to laugh at this, he wasn’t sure why. All he got was the squelching noise of her two middle fingers coming to a stop in her pussy. “What if we did, though?”

John B whined. Not his proudest moment, but it was impossible to not feel flayed under Kiara’s gaze. His hand released his cock and receded from his shorts, and a pathetic string of precum connected his still-clothed dick and his palm. The strand broke and drooped onto his stomach, and he shivered. She watched keenly and smirked when she noticed the slight tremble in his touch. Quite cruel, considering her softball pitch, and he felt his entire chest flush. He realized he hadn’t answered her question.

“I guess we just wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Fuck!” she whined, head thrown back against the couch and her hands momentarily stilling before continuing. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m—”

Made two of them. John B struggled to keep his eyes on his best friend making herself cum on her own fingers under the guise of keeping cool, all while he was painting the inside of his boxers. What a fucking joke.

They sat panting afterwards, each carefully pulling their hands out of their underwear, but Kiara is an overachiever. She brought her fingers to her mouth, dipping them between her lips and sucking off the slick that had gathered on them.

“Jesus Christ,” he blurted, blinking wildly at her standing up on shaky legs. She disappeared down the hallway to his bedroom, peeling off her shirt to reveal a toned, bare back. John B loved being right. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna take a shower. Hate to admit it, but I do feel cooler!”

***

Kiara flipped around in her bed. Kind of embarrassing, growing to prefer a crappy pullout or her best friend’s weak mattress over the nice Tempur-Pedic in her own bedroom. Honestly, if he heard her speak such sacrilege about her soft bedding, she’d get the silent treatment for days. Call her spoiled.

One more turn to face the window and she tucked her hands under her cheek. The moon pulsed outside, illuminating the alcove and weakening around her area rug. She had tons of them scattered across the wooden floor, mostly to protect her from the chill as she padded around in the winter months. Also convenient for dampening the sound of her footsteps when she snuck out in high school.

Or, y’know, anyone else’s footsteps.

Her door had been left cracked open, the summer months making it hard for the bulging, aged wood to fit in the jamb, so she didn’t even realize she had a visitor until he slid into bed behind her and cupped a large hand over her mouth.

His fingers tightened against her lips when she sucked in a gasp, and he shushed into her ear to help her relax. With the smell of his cedar marine cologne, the familiar warmth of him pressed against her, she softened, turning back to look at him with wide eyes.

Rolling onto her back, Kiara adjusted to slot under him as he rested on an elbow. “Why aren’t you down with the others?” she asked when he dropped his hand. Her eyes trailed along his features, strong and highlighted by the soft moonlight.

John B shrugged softly. “Couldn’t sleep down there. JJ snores.”

She nodded. “So you came up here to sleep?”

“Nope.”

He cupped a hand around her jaw to steady her face, planting a kiss that had her own hands flying up to his biceps. His touch revealed his waning patience. Whatever self control he’d garnered in this very spot a few days ago had leapt out the window and died. Now his fingers dug into her soft skin, claiming her and pinning her against the bed. He kissed deeply, like he was making up for lost time. Maybe he was.

She wore only a t-shirt and underwear, the former he tugged off and threw across the bedroom. His eyes fell to her bare tits, hungry and possessive. “Fuck, Kie.”

John B kissed her chest, biting the tanned skin and lightly sucking on her nipples, but he came back up to her face with another goal. He slotted himself on top of her, his thick cock sliding against her folds with only their underwear to separate them. They kissed, wet and deep as he pushed his hips forward. The shaft of his dick pressed against her clit, and she moaned into his mouth.

“Mm. Again,” he demanded through a kiss, grinding his hips again and again, and she wasn’t able to keep up with making out anymore. Her head tilted backwards, and he had to go back to covering her mouth lest she wake anyone up from a floor away. “Shh, sweetheart. I know.”

It was easy to find a rhythm thrusting against her, grinding his cock against where she was so sensitive and hot. Her head twisted to the side, lips pressed against his wrist, so he dropped down to bite at her exposed neck.

She came with a gasp, digging her teeth into the flesh of his forearm to keep from crying out, and he continued fucking against her until she rode out her high. Kiara released his arm and licked over where her canines had left bruising indents.

John B sat back, watching her steady her breath. The front of his boxers were wet, and he shamelessly reached down to adjust his throbbing cock while making eye contact with her.

She held her legs spread, letting him gaze over where she’d already soaked through her panties. He greedily licked his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

What kind of question is that? They’d already made out multiple times. She’d just, in a way, cum on his cock. She nodded anyway, too horny to think rationally about what he was even asking. But John B hooked a finger around the side of her panties and tugged, leaned down, lips puckered— and oh. That’s what he meant. He kissed right on her clit, and she mewled.

Kiara threw her head back, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips work around her clit like he was giving any other normal kiss. His tongue slipped out, frenching her cunt with drool that dripped over her hole and down her ass.

Still sensitive from her first orgasm, she pulled at his hair as a plea for mercy. He popped off with a wet noise, spit and nectar glistening on his chin in the moonlight. “Yeah?”

“C’mere.” He obeyed, smiling boyishly and giving her a real kiss with his arm caging her head. Kiara wriggled off her underwear, pulling them down her thighs and off one leg until they caught around her ankle. Then she went back to kissing him.

“Fuck me, please,” she asked kindly, fingers pulling at the waistband of his boxers.

“God, I— are you sure?” he asked, more begged, eyes dark and open wide. Nervous.

“Now,” she snapped, tired of whatever they’ve been dancing around. The elastic slipped from her grasp before she could realize as he tugged them just enough to pull his cock out.

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a hand around the base. John B slid the head against her folds, collecting the filthy amount of slick he’d gotten from her, and pushed the thick head into her fluttering hole.

The squeaking noises of her bed springs were nothing compared to the wet slaps of his hips on hers. Almost too much foreplay, she thought, if his fat cock could ease into her so snugly and echo around the room. Her nails dug into his skin, she was so full, she could feel him reshaping her from the inside.

“Christ, you take me so well,” he gritted out, watching him disappear into her. John B canted her hips up into the moonlight so she could have the same view. “You feel fucking amazing, angel. Y’like that?”

Kiara nodded wildly, whining every time he bottomed out and the dark brown curls at his pelvis stimulated her clit. “God, yes, it’s s’good—” she stammered.

He pulled out, sitting back on his haunches and grinning at the way she keened her hips up desperately. John B’s big hand rested over her entire cunt, palm over her leaking, eager hole, fingers over her clit. He pressed gently, dragging the sweet mixture of them up and down her pussy, stopping to thumb at her swollen nub roughly. Kiara tucked her head to the side, thrown between the harsh friction of his calluses and the saccharine pleasure it still gave her. His palm was coated with her, between his fingers too, and he shamelessly brought his hand up to his mouth to lick it clean before going right back to her cunt. Her jaw went slack, and he shot a dirty grin up at her. He loved it, playing in the slick he’d gathered from her, getting her loose and hazy and high.

It was messy, so fucking rich and sweltering and she didn’t even care that he grabbed her hips with his wet hand as he lined himself back up and fucked back into her. She didn’t care that he was clearly getting close, taking breaks to steady himself and slow his dick pulsing in her cunt. She didn’t care that he bit at her neck and collarbones, surely evidence that’ll be visible in her tanks and bikinis. All problems for future her.

It was so easy to forget about her problems with John B. To let go. To break rules that felt concrete to her, experiment and learn. Of course, he’s her best friend. Just that, though?

He bottomed out, forehead dropping to her neck and panting against her chest. John B thrust once more, getting the very last bit of himself inside her until he was fully sheathed. “Fuckin’ hell, Kiara.”

“Yeah,” she whined, fingers in his hair, struggling not to pull. It’s not like she wanted him to stop.

Before he continued, John B paused to grab Kie’s chin suddenly but gently. He planted a soft kiss to her lips, delicate and intimate and juxtaposed with how he twitched obscenely inside her. Also, “Next time, in the van.”

She smiled, both at the idea itself and him assuming there’d be a next time. Kiara supposed she assumed the same thing anyways.

John B pulled out only halfway, too eager to sink back into her that he couldn’t even offer a full stroke. That innate friendliness kicked in and she wanted to make fun of him, wanted to call him desperate and sloppy, but honestly— her eyes were rolling back into her skull as it was. God knows how she’d be if he could keep it together.

“Fuck, are you gonna cum again?” he blurted, thrusts growing frantic and wild. “I’m close. I— fuck, if you don’t finish, I-I’ll eat you out until you cum on my tongue, I don’t give a fuck, oh my God—”

His pathetic babbling pushed her over the edge just as he came inside her, and Kiara had to bite down on his toned shoulder to keep from crying out. He came hard, balls tight and cock nestled as deep as he could manage. His fingers were clenched to her hips, keeping her still as she writhed and trembled all the same.

They panted together, and John B didn’t pull out before grabbing her chin for another kiss. “Maybe during that next time, then.”

She smiled, adjusting the blankets as he settled down next to her.

“So… who won?” she asked finally, and he didn’t even pretend to not know what she meant.

“Obviously me. I don’t recall begging you to fuck me.”

“You literally crawled into my bed twenty minutes ago!”

“Well, you started it back at the house party.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “Right. I started it. You finished it. So… you lost?”

John B looked over to her, one arm tucked behind his head lazily. He flicked his eyes down to her body, delicately covered by her top sheet, then back up to her gleaming brown eyes.

“Sure. Big time.”

#i'm sorry this is disgusting it just flowed out of me #much like his c-#outer banks #obx #kiara carrera #john b routledge #john biara #john biara smut #john b smut #kiara carrera smut #kiara carrera fic #john b routledge fic #john b x kiara #john b routledge x kiara carrera #umathurwin writing

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years ago

Text

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 4 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary: As your relationship with Daemon develops you find a secret from his past. Daemon is haunted by a realisation.

Warning: 18+, Smut, sex, degradation kink, pain kink if you squint, consensual sexual choking, Reader has a personality, flashbacks of abusive relationship, sexual abuse, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, he’s not the best boyfriend, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, some violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

It's been a month since Daemon had turned up at your door and asked you to take him back, you were more than eager, it was not about just sex anymore.

You had already begun to care for him even before the breakup but ever since you two had decided to make this relationship healthier you have only fallen in love him more and more everyday, he didn't know that though, you haven't confessed yet, he was still fragile in the emotional sense so you didn't want to push him away with such a declaration of love.

He was trying to be gentler with you, his behavior was changing slowly and just something about a guy doing that for you made you feel special in a way.

He hadn't changed for other people though, just you, he was still the arrogant Daemon you had met the first night but in the privacy of your bedroom he was opening himself up to you, last night he allowed you to caress his head while he rested with his head on your lap on the couch while you two watched a movie, it felt cathartic to have a man like him crumble around you this way. He deserved to feel loved and cared for even though he detested it.

That night after you had affirmed that you wanted him and him only he was completely honest with you, he clarified that he wasn't ready to go all in just yet, he cared about you and felt something deep but he wasn't ready to accept it.

He warned you that he won't be the best man for you because he knew how his mood soured so quickly whenever he was confronted with a situation that reminded him of his past, you still didn't know what had happened to him but you knew it had something to do with a lover.

You were cleaning around the kitchen when you heard your doorbell buzzing so you quickly got him in, he hugged you and then kissed you before he put his hand inside the pocket of his oversized hoodie and took out a tiffany box.

In last one month he had gifted you a coffee machine, a brand new blender which he figured out somehow that you had saved in your wishlist, a few pieces of expensive jewelry you didn't need and now whatever this was,

"What is it?" You chuckled so he smiled,

"Don't worry I'm not asking you to marry me" he joked, that was another fear he had, one of the reasons he didn't want to get involved in a serious relationship was because he didn't want to get married or have kids. You weren't sure what you wanted yet so you really didn't think much of it, for now you just wanted to be with him and he made you happier than you have ever been with a man.

He opened the box and you saw an elegant diamond studded locket in there, it had his initials on the pendant.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't wish to but I got it made extra lightweight so you won't even feel it" he really loved spending his money on you for some reason, he put the chain around your neck and he wasn't wrong, the locket barely had any weight on it.

"Mmmm are you trying to own me ..with your name tag and everything?" you mumbled against his mouth before you kissed him, he couldn't help but smile.

"I already own you silly girl" as soon as he used that voice on you, you were a putty in his hands, you took his hoodie off his body and he wasn't wearing anything underneath it, he picked you up in his arms and took you to the bedroom.

Unlike before Daemon had started to stay the nights here with you and in your sleep you did break the condition he had regarding cuddling but he didn't really mind that. He actually allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of your body.

He laid you down on the bed and stared at you, the initials engraved on the pendant were glittering in the low light of your bedroom.

"Take your clothes off darling, the chain stays" he said firmly so you undressed slowly while you kept your eyes on him and teased him "Mmm good girl..want to fuck you just like that" he gripped your chin and leaned down to kiss you before he pulled away. You got up on your knees and unbuttoned his pants, he had such a pretty cock, so thick in girth and the perfect size, he kept his icy blonde bushes trimmed, the carpet matched the drapes. He had never allowed you to touch him, caress him or suck him before but he was slowly getting rid of that fear of his especially when he noticed your eagerness to please him. He just didn't want to lose all control the way he had done with her.

That's what made him so useless.

He moaned as you grabbed his length in your fist and gave him a stroke, your lips trailed down from his sternum to his abs,

"Is this okay?" You whispered softly and he cupped your cheeks to kiss you.

"Mmmm" he hummed in response as you kissed down from his earlobe to his neck and your lips trailed over the scar on his shoulder blades, his face scrunched in a mixture of pleasure and fright at the same time, he grabbed the back of your neck and laid you down on the bed as he got on top of you,

"That's it darling…I need a moment" he told you softly so you nodded.

"You're okay i promise, you're safe" he gulped as you said that but he didn't step away, he placed his head between your neck and tried to calm his wrecked nerves. You continued to caress his hair and just a minute later he was hard and ready to go again , sometimes he would put a condom on when he fucked you but the other times he just fucked you raw like this, he always enquired if you were talking your pills and you always wondered why he was so diligent about it. Maybe he feared that you'd get pregnant or something.

He got on his knees and pushed his cock inside you, his hand wrapped around your throat as he moved his cock in and out of you slowly.

Nothing about your sex life had changed, it was only becoming more intense and satisfying with every night you spent with him.

He pulled out of you and flipped you around on your front, you gasped as he spanked your cheeks harshly then he brushed your hair aside and his fingers curled around the chain, he thrusted in again at the same time as he pulled your head up using the hold on the chain, there was a sweet pressure around your throat when he pulled on it, you moaned as he leaned down and kissed the side of your neck,

He placed his other arm on the mattress for the support as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

"Tell me that you're mine" he whispered in your ears, his voice was husky and breathy in your ears.

"I'm yours baby I'm yours"

"Tell me that I own this pretty little cunt of yours" he asked again,

"You own my body..you own my cunt..oh god you own me i swear" a loud moan escaped your throat as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Such an obedient slut..so perfect" he mumbled at the same time as your walls clenched around him and both of you hit the peak of this euphoria together. His cock twitched inside you as you continued to milk his cock and his warm cum filled you to the brim.

You placed your hand around his cheek as you turned your head and he placed his forehead on yours as you both tried to come down from your respective highs.

As his cock went limp he pulled out of you and turned you around on your back.

"I need a cigarette" he whispered softly so you nodded, it's not that you didn't enjoy aftercare after the sex but he wasn't the type of man to give you that and you wanted to respect his boundaries, he was already doing a few things you never thought he would so you wanted to give him time.

He was going to get off you but then he placed his hand on your cheek and stared at you for a moment, a smile formed on his lips.

"You're beautiful, you know that right?" You smiled as he said that. He was doing his best.

"Come here". He murmured as he leaned down and kissed you a few times as tenderly as he could before he finally got up. He never wanted you to feel used even though deep down he knew his actions must have indicated otherwise especially after sex but he wasn't ready to go all sappy for you. He went to the bathroom and when he came back..you got up to clean yourself, when you returned he was in the bed lighting up the cigarette, you knew you had to intervene about this habit at some point as well but now wasn't the time.

"Want me to go to the other room?" He asked you as you got in the bed so you kissed his cheek,

"Stay mister cheese burger" he smiled as you said that. You laid your head down on his shoulder and watched his chest heaving, his heart was still beating so fast.

"Shit I need my ashtray" he cursed under his breath and was about to get up but you put your palm under the cigarette and collected the falling ashes before they could fall on him or the bed. He looked at you intensely as he took another drag and rubbed the ashes on your palm with his fingers hoping it didn't hurt but then next time he promptly dipped the ashes on your palm and you sucked a breath as you felt the warmth of it.

"Kinky" he mumbled as he continued to look at you and it made you smile.

"I'm just used to burning my hands..I don't even feel this"

"Is that so?" he mumbled as he took the last hit from the cigarette while his hypnotic gaze never left your eyes, you suddenly got on his lap and he looked up at you as you sat down on his thighs while you kissed him.

"I have to put this out" he murmured against your mouth and you lifted yourself up until you had your breasts squished against his face,

"Do it" you mumbled as you grabbed his hand and brought it closer to your soft curves, he looked at you intensely, trying to figure out if you were joking or not but the look in your eyes was dark, maybe you were just horny at the moment and feeling bold.

"I'm not going to burn you, you silly girl" he resisted, he didn't want to hurt you like that. He never wanted to put his fingers on you or scar your skin. Especially when he knew how that felt.

"It's okay just once…let me feel it once" he glared at you as you grabbed his hand and he looked at the burning end of the cigarette before he gave into your request, you were asking for it afterall.

He quickly put the cigarette out on the swollen curve of your breasts in one quick motion and you winced because of the burn you felt, but then a moan escaped your mouth and he threw the cigarette away before he kissed you and quickly laid you down under him, his mouth trailed down and he latched his lips around the burned skin before licked it over and over again like a kitten,

"Don't make me do it again you hear me?" He glared at you, his eyes were teary so you nodded, you didn't want to trigger something, you didn't know what had gotten into you suddenly. You just wanted to feel it once and as much as you enjoyed the momentarily rush you knew it was going to hurt later.

"Yeah…I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry" you whispered softly so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you again before he rolled over and laid on his side, "Are you okay? I'm sorry" you whispered as you propped on your elbow. He looked at the mark and caressed it with his fingers.

"It's alright, it's not you i promise" you ran your fingers through his hair gently so he looked at you "Does it hurt?"

"It stings.. just a little"

"Why did you ask me to do that?"

"It was sexy"

"Hurting each other in bed is not sexy darling" he said sternly

"Mmmhmmm then why do you choke me?" You asked sheepishly

"It brings you pleasure, i see the look of pure ecstacy on your face when I do it"

"Well, this brought me pleasure too , you didn't hurt me, you gave me what I asked you to give me" he looked at you again as you said that "That being said..you don't have to do anything you don't want to do in bed, you could just say no and I'll never bring it up, it needs to be like that for both of us…it goes both ways, the safe word is not just for me.. okay?" You said softly and he gulped as the wheels in his head started to turn, he had horrible flashbacks of his time with her and how much she had abused his consent in bed, he just wanted to make her happy and keep her pleased while she continued to remind him of his role as a man in the relationship.

"I can say no and you'd listen to me?" He asked, his voice trembled as he spoke,

"Of Course i would, you're my boyfriend, I care about you and I would never want to do anything that will hurt you" you mumbled as you caressed his cheek.

"Thank you" he turned on his side towards you and you laid down on the pillow as well, you didn't want to overwhelm him so you kept your distance and didn't try to snuggle him, he was trying to open up slowly and you didn't want to hinder his progress.

You knew his trauma wasn't from his childhood because he had a good one, he grew up in London, he and his brother Viserys came to the USA when he was 18 and Viserys had just begun his UFC career, he only retired a few years ago.

Young Daemon looked up to his older brother and wanted to be in the professional ring someday just like Viserys, he even fulfilled that dream of his but something had happened to him later on in life that had ruined everything for him. His issues with intimacy and the scars on his body were enough of an indication that he was in an extremely debilitating and toxic abusive relationship with someone. You had tried to look him up and found an old picture of him from his first official league, he has won that match and he seemed so happy, it was the kind of happiness that seemed genuine, his smile reached his eyes in those pictures, you saw a woman clinging onto him in one of the pictures but you didn't find any further information about her or who she was.

You didn't want to be nosey, you knew he'd tell you if he wanted that information to be shared with you so for now you just wanted to be patient.

Next day you were at an event Daemon had taken you to with him, it was to celebrate the players that had been chosen for the next season and almost all the guys Daemon and Viserys trained under them had qualified. Casey Anderson made it too and that means you had to come face to face with Randall again. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes when you saw him, Daemon was busy with other people so you tried to avoid Randall but like a hawk he spotted you anyway.

"And we meet again" he walked towards you and you took a deep breath, your eyes met with Daemon from across the room so you assured him that you were fine, you didn't want him to lose his cool, especially today at such an event.

"Randall, congratulations" you said to him so he smiled.

"I see ..you're still dating that maniac huh? Makes sense..he's filthy rich" He chuckled but you noticed the venom dripping from his voice,

"He's not a maniac and I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut you fucking creep unless you want to lose a few more teeths" he glared at you as you said that. Funny how some men always got so frustrated when you treated them the way they treated you.

"I see huh ..a match made in heaven, gold digger and the woman abuser" he walked away after insulting you and you resisted the urge to turn around and give it back to him.

You understood why he called you a gold digger but why did he insult Daemon like that? What was he insinuating?

When all the players were on the stage you walked towards your boyfriend and you could see that he seemed lost in his head.

Daemon couldn't help but reminisce about the time he used to be one of these guys, Viserys always told him that it still wasn't too late, that he could still revive his career if he wanted to, he was far too skilled of a fighter to work behind the scenes but Daemon didn't think he was capable of doing it anymore. Everytime he was in the ring with people around him he only saw her face in the crowd and he remembered that last day he was in the ring, he knew he'd never get over that day.

As you linked your fingers with his he turned his head and focused his attention on you instead, he had seen that bastard Randall talking to you before so he was a bit concerned.

"Did he bother you?" He asked you so you shook your head.

"He's just a pathetic little man with a big ego"

"Are you describing me?" He joked but you glared at him

"You're not a pathetic little man"

He kissed your cheek quickly, he wasn't keen on doing any sort of PDA, that wasn't his style and you didn't mind that either but he needed to show you that he appreciated you because he really did appreciate you more than you could imagine and more than he was capable of showing you.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight" he mumbled softly so you smiled and squeezed his hand, his brother was looking at you from the other side of the room so you gave him a smile as well.

He was taking you back to his place after dinner and he saw you were a bit too quiet which wasn't like you at all so he tucked your hair behind your ear to get your attention. The action did make your heart flutter.

"Something wrong?"

"No ..just ..it's just Randall..he said something about you and it's bothering me, not because I believe him but because I know you're not like that I mean i know you..he shouldn't walk around saying stuff like that about you" you rambled on so he looked at you curiously,

"What did he say?"

"He called you a woman abuser" his jaw clenched as you said that.

"Did you believe him?"

"Of course not, that's not why I'm upset baby"

"Well you should be..he wasn't wrong.. he shouldn't know that though.. nobody is supposed to know about that" he mumbled under his breath so you looked at him,

"What do you mean?"

"Well i have done things you most certainly would not approve of" you looked at him confused as he admitted that Randall was right about him.

"You have hurt a woman?" He took a deep breath before he answered,

"Yeahhh..I put hands on a .. girlfriend of mine..hit her so badly that she was in the hospital for a month" he said nonchalantly as if it was something so ordinary for him. As he pulled into the driveway of his building complex he finally looked at you, there was a horrified look on your face,

"Are you scared of me now?" He asked you as he took your seat belt off and guided you to sit on his lap, you slowly crawled on top of him and he kissed you briefly.

"I'd never hurt you" he mumbled so you caressed his cheek with your fingers.

"Why did you do that?"

You asked him because you wanted to find the reason, you knew he had a short temper but he had never hurt you like that and you knew in your heart that he wasn't capable of doing something like that.

"You didn't answer my question..are you scared of me?"

He asked you again, this time his voice was more firm so you shook your head and kissed him lovingly to show him that you weren't afraid of him.

"I'm not scared of you, I'm just trying to understand you..there must be a reason, something that you're not telling me" you whispered softly, you didn't want to make your judgement on half information.

"I did it, reason or not, I did it and as a man I shouldn't have done it" his eyes teared up so you kissed his forehead. He wasn't a cruel man, you didn't want to believe that he'd just hurt someone like that in the fit of anger.

"Was it an act of retaliation? Defense?"

"It doesn't matter–"

"It does to me..I'm not asking you to tell me everything Daemon, it's just a simple question, did you do it because you finally had enough of it?" You asked him again and instead of answering he just nodded before he put his head down on your chest and hugged you tightly. You caressed his head to comfort him and none of you said a word for a while but then you spoke,

"It's okay…it's okay..i promise.. you did nothing wrong"

"I don't want you to think of me differently "

"I won't..i know you well enough to make my own judgments and I'll be here whenever you want to share more..you were just trying to protect yourself" he nodded as you said that. He had gotten really lucky in life when he had found you, the secrets he had kept from you were slowly starting to unravel but the way you looked at him made him believe that you won't put him down once you learn more about him. A part of him believed that you'd be his savior, that you'd hold his hand and pull him out of this hell he had trapped himself in.

He had given up on living, he was merely existing before you came into his life but now there was a hope again.

"I fear you'd pity me once you will learn everything about me" you chuckled as he said that but your eyes were teary and the look on your face was of pure admiration..

"Pity you? I could never pity the man that saved my life, you have been my only hero since that night in the alley.. I could never pity a man like you. You're so strong and no matter what you tell me, your past would never make me feel pity for you"

You told him your honest feelings and he just looked at you like you were his own personal angel sent from heaven, just for him.

It was in that exact moment he had realized that he was feeling something he had vowed to never feel. He was slowly falling in love again and he was terrified of that realization.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #non canon #modern au

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charmwasjess · 7 months ago

Note

I think I heard somewhere that George created Dooku and Grievous to reflect/foreshadow two aspects of Vader (gentleman politician villain and cyborg killer). What do you think of the relationship between Dooku and Grievous?

It changes a bit in canon I think, Dooku now has less a direct hand in his origin story.

Hell, Dooku changed a lot in canon. I’m glad he’s less a human supremacist now.

Yessss, Geode, coming in with the fun ask!!!! :D

I’ve read arguments that Maul fits into this as well to complete the whole “the prequel villains all represent pieces of Vader.” Almost as avatars for RotS Anakin’s past, present, and future. Maul is the angry enslaved boy, Dooku is the fallen Jedi/former hero who betrays everyone he loves, Grievous is the coldblooded cyborg killer who lives only to destroy.

I sure am grateful that we lost the tacked-on space racism (spacism) for Dooku, but I’ve felt that current canon does miss some of the prior rich characterization we got for Sith-era Dooku, as opposed to how much they’ve explored Jedi Dooku. And of course, that Jedi-era stuff is invaluable to me because I write mainly in that era (and I too-well remember a time in fandom when writing Dooku as having once been a good Jedi was considered outright OOC - whew, you should see some of the hate comments I got!) but I miss the Sithly depth. The Clones Wars 2008 in particular drives me crazy (affectionate) because it’s so fucking good, there’s so much beautiful subtext and tension to some of Dooku’s plotlines: untold stories and fascinating opportunities. I think a richer version of Dooku as a character was fully present in the TCW writer’s minds, it just got deprioritized to tell other character’s stories, so you just see the tantalizing shadow of it lingering in small details.

Grievous is interesting as he’s almost a physical manifestation of what the war is intended to do to the Jedi Order. He’s a literal Jedi blender. A machine intended to break both their physical bodies as well as weaponize and pervert the ideals held sacred to the Jedi, that of life and choice and light and even lightsabers, these ceremonial objects with huge cultural significance to the Jedi which they spend their whole life training with. And yet, Grievous, without any holy connection to the Force, can pick up Lightsabers for Dummies ghostwritten by CD, spin his arms, and win. And win, and win, and win.

And I think it’s interesting how Dooku’s participation in his training or origins gives the perception that Dooku understood this and did it deliberately. It really speaks to how far Dooku’s own soul has fallen, particularly since lightsabers and Makashi seem to be one part of his Jedi life that Dooku genuinely still values and finds sacred. In that way, like so much else, Grievous seems almost designed to be an act of psychic self harm for Dooku. (And that’s before you get into Legends and Dooku giving Grievous literally Sifo-Dyas’s blood and lightsaber.)

There’s a tremendous scene in the EU book Labyrinth of Evil where Dooku shows Grievous a recording of Anakin and Obi-Wan fighting well together and just… gushes over it, genuinely happy and interested with their lightsaber development and expecting Grievous to take a lesson from this, while Grievous is like just sooo bored and wishing the Count would get to his point so he can leave. His own monster doesn’t want to talk to him about his dumb hobbies. It really epitomizes the way Dooku had built himself this cage for his own loneliness, constructed out of everything he used to love.

Bonus Round

Narratively, in current canon, I’m glad we swapped in “Dooku gives Sifo-Dyas a Jedi funeral” instead of the EU version: “Dooku keeps Sifo’s corpse in a snow white style coffin in his basement to monologue most divorcedly at and then later stick all his blood in Grievous.”

But Warren Fu being so proud of his design being chosen as the movie version for Grievous that he snuck his own face on Sifo-Dyas’s first visual appearance in that comic and made him Grievous’s blood donor is so fucking funny. I follow him on other platform and his birthday message to George Lucas this year was just a little clip he’d made of himself and George in front of his beautiful Grievous concept art. He's so proud still, almost 25 years later.

#I want to say right off this analysis is seriously missing some consideration of Grievous as his own character and his narrative arc #but your ask seemed to be more about him as a meta element and his relationship to Dooku as a character foil #general grievous #count dooku #sifo dyas #star wars meta #star wars legends #the clone wars #star wars prequels

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goodolddumbbanana · 9 months ago

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[Bad end au 2] A sleepless night

Part 1

‘I love the fact that I can look into your eyes and see nothing but lies…’

Two weeks before Dark Sun kickdrop Nexus for Sun.

The sound of dripping water disturbed Sun’s already fragile sleep.

The lily-colored animatronic groaned lazily on the bed, its metallic senses sinking deep into the soft quilt, struggling like a lazy child refusing to wake up.

The dim electric blue light covered Sun’s small, narrow room like a curtain, reflecting the solitude of its owner, when the most prominent thing in this room was only a few plum blossom petals that Molten had collected and placed on Sun’s desk.

Sun couldn’t sleep. The robot didn’t need to sleep, but closing his eyes and turning off the power still brought about a certain feeling of comfort.

It was just that… The tasks that Father assigned piled up on top of each other, spinning Sun around like a pinwheel, to the point that even when Sun lay down, his interface system still popped up with painful notifications of things to do.

And today was one of those days when the restlessness Sun shouldn’t have felt in his chest suddenly became more intense, like the way the sensor in his abdomen contracted, rolling as if someone’s nails were scratching it, or the screws in his body suddenly became too heavy, too wobbly for Sun’s liking.

Putting his hand on his chest, Sun realized that his fan was too hot. The warmth radiating from the metal casing tickled Sun’s fingers, making him unconsciously press harder, as if testing whether the heat would melt his hand.

His claws leisurely ran along the gold plating, slowly spreading up his neck, touching the red tassel and pressing down hard.

‘It’s hard to imagine what would happen if he squeezed harder.’

Sun thought absentmindedly, as his hands gently caressed and drew the joints of his neck. The cold hard steel, with its circular patterns and sturdy screws, held the wire he walked in one direction. He could almost feel the heat of the electricity running, the clocks and gears slowly turning to simulate the biological mechanism of a human.

The child whose neck he had broken the day before didn't have time to scream, nor did it shed a drop of blood. Just a stiff crunch of broken bones and a panicked wheeze, mixed with the tears of the small hand trying to reach Sun's arm before it stopped.

It was almost like a hug when Sun wrapped his arms around the child's neck. Soft, small and warm, and then there was no warmth left. Even as he ran his arms through the child's hair or held it completely in his arms, what he touched was still numb as ice, cold as winter seawater, and stiff as a machine.

Sun had kept the child like that for almost a day before Father came to make him throw it away. ‘It was so unhygienic’, that's what he was told when his Father threw the child into the blender.

‘Where do you think the fertilizer for my potted plants comes from, you stupid child.’ Creator pointed to the lush, mutated potted plants that grew twisted and twisted all over their lair, to the ancient tree beside the bridge that swirled with dark water below.

‘Soul for energy, flesh and blood for fertilizer, and bones for materials.’

‘It seems that despite all the modifications, you are still making me feel so disappointed…’

Creator’s voice hummed, and in that dark darkness, Sun was not alone. Something writhed and trembled, the cries of trapped remnants, cracked skulls staring intently at him—

Sun was released about a day later.

The blood was something sweet and dirty, it was slippery and sticky on Sun’s metal skin, dripping with every step he took.

And the smell was the worst. Like rotten pizza and rotten fish, Sun couldn’t wash away the smell even after using countless detergents.

Sun didn’t remember how long it took him to clean and dispose of all the meat stuck to his bell after he crawled out of the hole…

***

“Do you want to get out yet, my boy?”

The Creator’s voice was sweet as honey but full of venom. The brain looked down at the yellow animatronic covered in blood that was trembling non-stop, but still couldn’t drop something like a child’s skull in his arms.

“Then bring Lunar to me.”

***

Squirming to sit up, Sun didn’t think he could lie down any longer, as his processor was now repeating the image of maggots crawling on him for the nth time.

He really didn’t know what to do… Capture Lunar?

Lunar was much stronger than Sun… And the boy was smart too… There was no way Sun could fool his little brother.

And he didn’t want to…

The dilemma made him fiddle with the bandage wrapped around his hand. The red smelled rancid, but Sun still wrapped the soft fabric around his fingertips and pulled.

He would rather be destroyed again than to choose something like this.

In truth, Sun didn’t like any of what his father had ordered.

It was wrong in every way, and Lunar was someone he never wanted to hurt.

But every time he thought like that, something was washed through his system, and the desire to obey his father grew stronger and stronger, making the morality Sun tried to cling on withered.

Sun didn’t understand why in the past, he could scream and curse at his father as much as possible but now, just a shake of the head from Creator was enough to make his 1 and 0 coded heart cringe.

Follow, follow, follow, that's what his head and code table whispered, it was almost like an addiction, the excitement and joy of completing what his father asked.

And Sun was always the one to follow, and no matter how much he resisted, he still couldn't fight back.

Because father is family.

And it's better to be a heartless dog than to make his father sad.

Maybe being broken would be easier to fix than this. Sun sighed, standing up. The wandering thoughts in his head made Sun wish that if there was something that could help him manage both, both pleasing Creator and keeping Lunar safe, then Sun would be satisfied.

His feet touched the cold floor, the sound of metal clanking as Sun carefully opened the door and stepped out.

The cold wind blew through him, blowing cold air onto Sun's rays.

The smooth whiteness flowed like silk into his vision. The silence was as bleak as a mirror, following the corner of Sun's feet. Father was probably out with his friend somewhere, or still busy in the lab.

Sun alone, toiling, wandering, perhaps cleaning up again if he got too bored, though Sun usually tried not to. More or less, this was the only free time he had when Father wasn't sending him and Molten off to some unknown time and space to find something or deal with someone his brain desired.

He tried to hum a tune, but sadly, there was nothing in his head right now. The sound of running water grew louder, as he stepped onto the bridge.

The echoes echoed along with the sound of the bells wrapped around Sun's wrists, bouncing off the steel on the bridge. The cool scent of water tickled his sensory system, caressing the golden animatronic’s back as the green leaves gently brushed against Sun’s light.

It was 4am, his internal clock system announced softly. The water flowed gently, bottomless, pitch black and glowing with chemical green. The flower petals drifted, occasionally a plum blossom petal would touch Sun’s shoulder, the playful lines on the hem of his skirt wrapped around his waist.

Sun was lost in thought, but there was really nothing on his mind.

It was just the familiar feeling of stagnation that even cleaning had lost its charm, not after he had scrubbed this lair more than a dozen times a day. The wind blew, the waves rolled, and everything drifted out of Sun’s control like some planet lost its orbit.

“So this is what you do when our esteemed father lets you rest?”

“Pathetic. Can’t you think of anything more helpful to our Creator, Sun?”

Sun didn’t even need to look. His audio processor could have picked up that arrogant and even-tempered tone anywhere.

“Oh, Goliath. Didn’t see you there? Heh… What business does our father have with me?”

The silence of the gears slowly turning against each other. A harsh growl answered, as rough as gravel being crushed into dust.

“… No.”

“So you came out here on your own?” Sun raised an eyebrow, his pearly eyes narrowing in amusement, ignoring the instinct that told him not to provoke the sleeping lion, or this time, a gorilla.

“Whoa! And I thought you only knew how to follow the Creator’s orders and turn off the power? How amazing.”

“Congratulations, you finally have thoughts on your own.”

Sun was genuinely surprised by his counterpart’s actions, but the words he uttered under the influence of his lack of a personality chip made his words sound rather sarcastic.

And honestly, Sun didn’t care if Goliath decided to strangle him here.

“Shut your mouth. You’re the last person I want to hear that come out of your mouth. I’m not here to entertain an inferior thing like you.”

The giant animatronic, with a haughty and disdainful look, stared at him as if he were looking at an ant on the ground, or a puppy that had been hit by a car and the vet had long gone to sleep, leaving it to writhe and bleed on the side of the road to dead.

Sun just sighed, compared to what Goliath usually said, this could be considered the gentlest. The gorilla seemed to be in some sort of moody mood as well, as they too turned their gazes to the river like him, saying nothing, only their processors making clicking noises of recognition.

“So Goliath… If not because Father wants to see me… What are you doing here?”

The silence was a perfect chord for a tone-deaf man. Sun hadn’t meant to ask, but the restlessness that existed deep within his code made his mouth conjure up the huge elephant in the room.

Of course, the only response he got was a slap across the face, a ruffling of a cat’s fur.

“None of your business.” Their voices were mocking, and defensive.

They looked as if they would break his entire beam before throwing him into the water, and pulled him up. And did it again. Again and again because Sun’s metal is too heavy for him to swim.

But Goliath wasn’t his father. So Sun could still calmly ignore the hidden threats in the words of the one who treated silence as a competition and they always had to be the champion, and let his mind drift into nothingness, which Sun did quite a lot these days.

“Suit yourself.” Sun yawned. He suddenly felt a little cold, which was strange considering the fact that he was just a robot. The feeling of exhaustion from every bolt, which had been getting heavier lately…

Sun wasn’t the smartest, but even he himself had figured out that being so close to the Wither Storm debris wasn’t a good thing.

“You shouldn’t be like this. I remember you used to be so much—”

There was something annoyed in Goliath’s voice, making Sun turn back to look at him in spite of himself.

Maybe it was anger, or nostalgia. Or maybe his fan was faulty. Sun didn't understand, nor could he remember how to handle it, as a burning sensation in his chest that made it hard to breathe came as quickly as it had gone, before being extinguished as coldly as Goliath's words had metaphorically nailed into Sun's head.

What did Goliath expect Sun to be?

Uptight, cowardly, too helpless in his own emotions?

Imprisoned by fear of everything?

Stupid to the end?

Sun didn't mean he'd gotten any smarter, but at least for now he felt fine. The feeling he never could enjoy since the day he was alive.

Guess his father was right.

Life was pain.

And the easiest way to end the pain was to become a machine again.

The comfort of not having to worry about anything but obeying his father's orders, it turned out to be more comfortable than he thought.

Still, in the face of the stupidity and meanness of the person who was always jealous and comparing themselves to him, Sun just smiled, his social AI chip calculating the most likely answers to lessen the gorilla's arrogance before flipping the table and throwing every answer it had predicted down the drain.

"Ah... I don't understand what you mean?"

And the orange light flickering in their eyes almost reminded him of a candy corn smoldering as if thinking about something, before regretfully turning away.

"Idiot."

And leave Sun alone, like some asshole that dudebag is.

#sun and moon show #tsams #sams #the sun and moon show #tsams sun #tsams goliath #bad end au #tsams creator

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gyunglitter · 2 years ago

Text

➷ 03 ➷

-“oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn’t real -– cupid is so dumb”

unlike you, your brother’s best friend just doesn’t know when to quit

word count: 4,034

warnings: cursing, mentions of running, soobin and reader bickering, a sweaty beomgyu in a tank top, CRINGE lmaooo

tags: brother’s-best-friend!beomgyu x reader, ??? to ???, angst, fluff(??), beomgyu is the cool boy-next-door, reader is an independent girlboss (or trying to be, at least), beomgyu’s gonna be GROVELING, simp!gyu, pathetic pining from both sides lol, maybe some cringe from reader (she was a teenage girl in love, have some empathy plz😭)

notes: this chapter literally didn’t exist lol, but as i was writing chapter 4, i realized it didn't flow well and spawned this. while writing it, i HATED it, but then threw in some crack and suddenly it’s my favorite thing lol. hope y’all get a laugh out of it—if not, i’m officially so unfunny :)

–> masterlist <–

One of the habits you had picked up while away: working out early in the mornings. Whether it was going for a run, doing yoga, or some pilates you would wake up early and start your day with a good bit of sweat before devouring a smoothie and protein bowl.

Of course, you couldn’t quite replicate your routine with how your parents’ blender was broken and the protein in your house was a bit more limited than you had back at your place, but you could make do. Then there was your childhood neighborhood that didn’t have the same layout as your apartment’s neighborhood did; there were many more hills and way less sidewalks. But you figured you had walked these streets for eighteen years with only the occasional complaint, so it shouldn’t be that hard. You could make do.

Or at least you thought you could.

Currently, you were gasping for breath as you finished trekking up the last hill to your house. You’d forgotten just how much worse the monsoon season felt at home than at school. Thankfully, you’d dressed correctly for your morning run: your running shorts, a sports bra, and breezy tank top to help your dying body breathe easier. You just wish your terrain was more forgiving.

You decided to walk the rest of the street back to your house, feeling utterly humbled (and old) as the early morning sun beat down on your back. Sweat glided down your cheeks, making you take the hem of your tank top to wipe it off, before ultimately taking it off and using it as a towel instead. You swung the top across your shoulders and sighed at the discomfort, vowing to stick to your indoor pilates workout routine until the weather mellowed out.

You spent the rest of your walk internally whining about everything you’d done wrong since waking up, going over all of your worst regrets. But it wasn’t until you got to your front lawn, that you actually faced your biggest one. Which, of course, came in the form of Choi Beomgyu.

A gorgeous, sweaty, messy, out of breath Choi Beomgyu.

Feeling your cheeks heat up beyond what would be considered healthy, you gawked at the boy–no, man–who was currently putting together some machine in his own front lawn–the front lawn that your birdbrain had completely forgotten was right next door to your own. Beomgyu had also been dressed for the weather, wearing a loose, white tank top and black shorts with wire headphones as he worked. He looked like he might’ve been up for as long as you had, with sweat running down his forehead and arms, leading down to his dirty hands that you could only assume caused the multiple oil stains smeared on the front of his top. His hair was a delightful mess, but of course on Choi Beomgyu it made him look like a greek god. His face was a bit flushed from working, but you knew it was no match for the red on your face at the moment.

Lucky for you, he was completely focused on whatever the hell he was building.

Feeling hopeful, you discreetly inched towards your porch steps to avoid garnering his attention. You deemed your confrontation with him the night before to be good enough interaction for the next year, and you really did not want a repeat of it now, when you’re half naked and sweaty.

But as life would have it, you still have many regrets to live through today.

“Y/n?” he called.

You nearly shrieked as your body went on autopilot and jumped.

…Into the nearest bush.

“Y/n?!” he yelped, sounding a bit more concerned this time around.

WHY THE FUCK DID I DO THAAAT?

You hit your forehead with your fist as you berated yourself now physically and mentally while you basically hid behind the shrub by your porch. It’s not like you could escape the interaction, the only way to get out would be the way you came, which would only make you look so much weirder since he literally watched you jump, anyway! Now you were naked, sweaty, and had sticks in your hair. You really had to work on your fight or flight response because what the hell.

So much for acting like you moved on–what happened to being unbothered?!

You groaned and took your hair out of its ponytail to at least have something covering your shoulders a bit more. You used your tank top to wipe off additional sweat and dirt before trying to calm down and gather yourself.

“Y/n, are you okay?!” Beomgyu yelled, making you sigh heavily before popping out of your hiding spot.

“What–Beomgyu? Wow, I totally didn’t even see you there,” you coughed, pulling a random stick out of your hair.

Kill me.

You tried to not make eye contact with the boy, but you saw he was gaping at you and your disheveled state.

“W-what hap– a-are you okay?”

“Never better,” you replied. “I just thought there was a squirrel in the bush and-well, uh, you know...”

“I don’t think I do,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

You didn’t either. But you weren’t going to say that.

Instead, you waved his words off and let the space between you fill with silence. Beomgyu took both of his earbuds out and scratched the back of his neck while he tried to string together words. But it seemed neither of you were going to come up with much of anything as he continued to stare at you while you stared at the floor.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, wanting nothing more than to escape whatever the hell this was supposed to be. “See ya.”

You turned to run up your porch and into your house to curl up into a ball, when Beomgyu interrupted you once again.

“Wait, hold on!” he called, making you want to smash your head into the wall.

“We really have to stop doing this,” you groaned.

He let out a chuckle while you turned back towards him. “I know, my bad.”

You folded your arms as he nervously fiddled with the hem of tank top once again. While you tried to keep your self restraint in check, you allowed yourself one more second of drinking in the veins that popped from his forearms, before shaking yourself. “What do you want, Beomgyu?”

He motioned toward the half-finished machine sitting in front of him. “My dad just got this new grill for this weekend, and I’ve been trying to put it together all morning, but I need some help carrying the tank and finishing it up,” he explained.

You grimaced, “I don’t think I can help you out with that, to be honest.” Nor do I want to.

But luckily, he shook his hands frantically, “No, no! I just meant–I mean, I was going to come to your house to ask Soobin for some help, anyway! I just figured it would be kind of weird for me to knock on your door after you just left, you know, so…”

He let the words die awkwardly after rambling for a bit, but he looked to you with red ears and a hopeful look on his face that you got the gist of what he was saying without thinking he was weird or weak, or whatever was making him so anxious.

Not that you felt you were in a place to judge, after he just watched you jump into a bush.

Sighing a little bit, you hesitantly nodded at him and gestured to your house. “Alright, well come in then. I’m sure oppa’s not doing anything important right now, anyway.”

Beomgyu’s eyes slightly widened at the offer, before nodding enthusiastically.

“Oh, perfect! G-great! Thanks, Y/n,” he rambled, which you ignored as he started speed walking over from his spot to follow you into your house.

You opened your door that was almost always unlocked and toed off your shoes easily and slipped into a pair of slippers while Beomgyu tried his best to not touch anything with his grease-stained fingers. Noticing his predicament, you bit the inside of your cheek in slight annoyance as you slid another pair of slippers next to his feet.

“Thank you,” he muttered, slightly embarrassed.

“Just go wash your hands in the bathroom,” you dismissed, immediately walking away from him to go further into the house. “Man, I’m starving.”

“Y/n? Is that you,” your mom’s voice called from the kitchen, making you walk in her direction.

Turning the corner, you’re faced with your mother in her usual pajamas, making herself a pot of coffee. You smiled brightly at her, but she gave you a confused look.

“Where are your clothes, bean?” she asked, making the smile drop off your face.

You heard Beomgyu choke from behind you, making your cheeks heat up ridiculously.

“Hello to you too, eomma,” you grumbled, making your way to the fridge to make yourself a yogurt bowl and fight off your blush. “I just went for a run at the worst time possible.”

Your mom snorted at that. “Why in the world would you want to do that?”

“Because I hate myself,” you grumbled sarcastically, only half joking considering your circumstances.

After taking a bit of time to grab all of the ingredients you needed, you went to sit at the counter by your mother who was making herself a mug.

“Did you want a cup?” she asked you, to which you made a sour face. “Oh, right, I forgot you hated coffee.”

“Which is a crime, by the way,” Beomgyu chimed in, coming into the kitchen as well, drying his hands off on a towel from the counter.

“Beomgyu! When did you get here, dear?” Your mother smiled at the boy who was practically her second son.

He smiled widely back at her, going in for a hug before realizing his shirt was horribly stained and pulling back.

“I came with little Y/n. I just went to wash my hands really quickly,” he explained.

Your mother let out a little laugh, “Speaking of washing, what happened to you? You look like you slept in a garage.”

You smirked at that, while Beomgyu went to explain himself. But before he could, you all heard heavy footsteps thunder down the staircase. It had been a few years, but you could recognize Soobin’s footsteps anywhere.

You were proven right when the steps had rounded the corner, revealing your older brother with his eyes barely opened. Soobin slowly trudged through the kitchen, his body on autopilot as he instinctively opened the right cabinets to get a bowl and cereal. It was only when he opened the fridge and grabbed the milk that you decided to say something.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” you cooed, making Beomgyu snort from behind you.

Like on command, your brother screamed and dropped the milk carton. He whipped around to face you, while you were currently swallowing a spoonful of your yogurt bowl.

“Jesus Christ, I forgot you were here,” he muttered. After rubbing his eyes roughly, he opened them once again to look at you, but quickly shielded his eyes and screamed again. “Where the hell are your clothes?!”

Your mom and Beomgyu laughed while you rolled your eyes and chucked a piece of granola at him. Your brother flinched when it bounced off of his forehead.

“Is my nakedness really that bothersome to all of you,” you grumbled, scooping more yogurt into your mouth.

“Not bothersome,” your mom said as she went to grab another mug for your brother as she could tell he was in need of his own cup of coffee, “Just very shocking to see you in a sports bra considering the most exercise you did in high school was walking to the convenience store for ice creams.”

You absentmindedly grinned at that as you remembered all of your ice cream runs with your brother back in high school.

It seemed Soobin was doing the same thing as he let out a happy sigh. “Ah, good times.”

You nodded in agreement as he picked up the milk carton and made his way to sit next to you to eat his breakfast.

Beomgyu came over as well and took the other seat next to you. “Did you enjoy your beauty sleep?”

Soobin squinted at the boy around you. “I did, actually. You look like you could’ve used it though–”

Your mother lightly swatted the back of your brother’s head, ignoring his cry as she asked, “Did you want a cup, Beomgyu?”

He eagerly nodded at her. “Thanks, Mrs. Choi, that sounds great!”

Beomgyu smirked at Soobin, while he merely pouted back. “Why are you even here, Beomgyu? It’s too early to deal with the sight of your face.”

Beomgyu snorted. “I literally texted you about it yesterday before the dinner; I took apart appa’s old grill and I’m setting up the new one since all the guys are coming in this weekend. I need your help with the tank and stuff.”

Soobin groaned at the idea of doing manual labor, while you turned to your brother with a confused look and asked, “‘Guys’? Who’s coming in?”

“Some of our friends from school are coming down to visit. Yeonjun and Kai are definitely; not sure about Taehyun though,” Soobin sighed. “They’ll be here all weekend and staying with Beomgyu. But for the first night, we’re barbecuing and having a bonfire.”

You recognized all of the names: you’d actually met Yeonjun in person years ago, Soobin having met him in his first semester at school and became friends through Beomgyu. They brought Yeonjun back home with them since he didn’t have any plans for the holidays, so you got to know him a bit. Then there was Taehyun, who you’d only heard every now and then from random stories. But at last, there was Kai, who had been a common name thrown around by Soobin, claiming he adored the guy and would pick having him as a younger sibling over you any day.

Whatever.

It honestly surprised you to hear about Taehyun and Kai since it turned out they graduated high school the same year you had. Soobin told you they had met during a party where all three of them hid in a corner and bonded over their friends ditching them for the night. You’d been pretty interested in the lore behind your brother’s friend group when you were eighteen, until you’d heard the reason Soobin was ditched was because Yeonjun had been dragged into a beer pong game where he got smashed, and Beomgyu wanted to hook up with some random girl–who you would rather listen to your brother singing the Attack on Titan theme song for ten hours, than learn about.

“You should actually come with, Y/n,” Beomgyu piped in, nudging your elbow.

You didn’t turn toward him, instead remaining adamant on facing the other direction toward Soobin as he shook his head.

“Uh, no. Why would I surround my sister with a bunch of men? It’s bad enough you can see her like this,” Soobin wrinkled his nose at you, to which you promptly kicked him in the shin. It didn’t take long for him to kick you back.

“Soob, come on,” Beomgyu scoffed.

You honestly couldn’t tell whether Beomgyu was more offended over Soobin refusing you going, or the fact that him being around you was such a bad thing. And, the more you thought about it, the more you really didn’t want to know.

“What?” Soobin defended. “Men are disgusting!”

Your mother placed a mug in front of Soobin and Beomgyu respectively, before adding in her two cents, “I don’t know if you remember, Soobin-ah, but your sister isn’t thirteen anymore. She’s twenty-one and perfectly capable of deciding for herself if she would like to have men around her or not.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Choi! Spoken like a true feminist,” said Beomgyu, a wide grin on his face.

“Since when did you get so progressive?” Soobin deadpanned.

“Since when did you refer to Taehyun and Hyuka as ‘men’?”

“Touché, touché.”

Beomgyu said, “Our friends are literally the greenest flags to walk in South Korea, if little Y/n will be safe with anyone, it will be them.”

“That is true,” Soobin pondered, but you rolled your eyes at the both of them deciding on your weekend’s fate for you.

“Exactly! I don’t know why you never let Y/n come with us,” Beomgyu complained.

Soobin scoffed. “Why do you care so much?”

Your ears burned when Beomgyu stayed quiet at that, not really knowing what to say. Instead, you turned back towards your yogurt and took another mouthful. “Whatever, it’s fine. I don’t wanna go, anyway.”

“What? Y/n,” Beomgyu whined, but you just ignored him. Again.

Even if Soobin hadn’t refused, you would’ve had to look for a good excuse to not go for multiple reasons. And Beomgyu was not the biggest this time. You honestly planned to rot for at least a couple of days, after all the traveling yesterday and your run this morning. Truly, you’d only gone for a run because it was routine and basically instinct. But you were still jet lagged, not to mention your social battery had run fairly low after your best friend, Yunjin’s, party yesterday, and then your surprise reunions with Beomgyu. The party had been a little tiring, but it was incredibly lightweight compared to being with your brother’s best friend. To say the brunette boy was exhausting would be an understatement for you.

“Seriously? You don’t want to go,” Soobin asked, eyebrows lifted. “You always used to beg to hang out with us.”

You nodded and gestured to yourself. “I’m tired, oppa. Besides, like eomma said, I’m not thirteen anymore!”

Soobin looked at your attire once again and mocked, “You sure about that?”

You kicked the crap out of his shin under the table as he cackled.

“You’re adopted,” you growled, making Soobin laugh even harder at you. “You’re not funny, and you’re not cute. I hope you trip over the sidewalk and that your favorite anime character dies–oh wait, he already did.”

Soobin’s jaw dropped. “You bitch–”

This time, it was Beomgyu who roared with laughter as you stood up and placed your yogurt bowl in the sink. After putting all of the food away, you went to stand next time your mom and cling onto her.

She shook her head at the both of you as she wrapped her arms around you as well. “I have to say, even though I love the peace and quiet, I did miss hearing the creative insults you two would throw at each other.”

You tried to hide your smile at that, while Soobin continued grumbling into his cereal. Another thing you had missed: your brother. Your age gap wasn’t very wide and the both of you had many things in common growing up. Though you’d always been close, the both of you had grown a lot closer while in high school. No one had known you better than he had, and the same vice versa, besides maybe Beomgyu. It had honestly broken his heart when you decided to study abroad and leave for four years, but the two of you stayed in contact with random facetimes and his many visits. You would say you stayed in better contact with him than you had anyone else.

“I know you missed your sister too, Soobin,” your mom cooed, causing your brother’s nose to twitch.

He gave a big sigh, “Whatever. Come, don’t come–your choice whether you want to or not.”

Your eyes widened a bit at the yield. Despite all those embarrassing years of begging to hang out with him and his friends, Soobin was adamant on the both of you not mixing friend groups. You knew all of his friends in high school since you passed each other in the halls everyday, but Soobin remained stubborn that you couldn’t join his friends when they went out. It always confused you since his friends were a bunch of angels, but your mom said Soobin was just too protective when it came to you. This never made sense to you, but your parents would always take his side on it. To see your mom voice her opinion against his and your brother finally giving in was a bit of a shock. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had changed a little over the past four years.

“Come on, Y/n, it’ll be fun,” tried Beomgyu.

He turned in his seat to face you and your mom, giving you those famous puppy eyes you’ve recently started to really dislike.

You turned your head away stubbornly, but your mom wasn’t quite done either.

“You should go, bean,” she said, petting the top of your head. “It’ll be like ‘healing your inner child’, or something.”

Your eyebrows raised as you faced your mother. “Who taught you that phrase?”

“Yunjin-ah. I called to congratulate her on graduating the other week,” she supplied, making you roll your eyes at the mention of your childhood best friend.

Of course she did, you mentally laughed.

“Look, I understand you’re tired, but it’s only Tuesday! The boys don’t come in until this weekend, you have plenty of time to rest,” she continued.

It honestly surprised you how much your mom was pushing you. She typically didn’t push you to do much of anything besides clean up. To see her have an actual opinion on it and pursue it against you made you think for a second.

“What, is IU supposed to be there, or something?”

“Huh?” your mom asked, thoroughly confused.

“I mean, there’s gotta be another reason as to why you want me to go so bad.”

Your mom laughed before pinching your ear lovingly, making you squirm away from her. “Sorry I want you to have fun while you’re at home!”

Shrugging your shoulders, you relented. “Fine, because you guys are so desperate–”

“YES!”

Beomgyu cheered as he suddenly stood up from his seat. He clutched the mug your mom gave him in one hand before using the other to give her a one-armed hug and kissed her on the cheek. Your mother laughed as he sang, “Mrs. Choi, I owe you the world!”

Soobin rolled his eyes so harshly it made you stifle a laugh.

“Stop rizzing up my mother, you loser,” he groaned, before getting up to put his bowl and breakfast away. “Let’s just go finish this stupid grill before I ghost you and leave you to build it yourself.”

Beomgyu’s mood didn’t deflate at your brother’s negativity and instead picked up the other mug as well, to bring with them. “Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Choi! I’ll make sure to bring it back later!”

“Oppa can bring it back,” you reasoned.

“That’s what I just said,” Beomgyu said, a bit of mischief in his tone.

You deadpanned him, but his grin didn’t shift.

“See you later, little Y/n.” And the bastard sauntered away, carrying both mugs for him and your brother who looked like he was going to need it more than anything to get through the rest of the morning.

“Is it too late to back out?” you asked your mom, the fake smile on your face contradicting your serious tone.

Your mother hummed as she studied the view from the window on the side of your house that showed Beomgyu and Soobin on his front lawn, before moving back towards you.

“I have to say, that is probably the happiest I’ve seen him since you left,” she said softly, making the fake smile melt off of your face. “You don’t actually have to go; like I said, you’re old enough to make your own choices. But I think it’d be really good for you to. And if not for you, at least it would be for him.”

You knew your confusion was evident on your face by the knowing smile that crept onto hers.

“Just give it a shot, bean. Besides, I think you’ll really like Soobin’s friends. They’re the sweetest boys you could ever meet.”

–> next <–

#txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagines #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #kang taehyun #huening kai #beomgyu fluff #stupid cupid

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moccahobi · 1 year ago

Text

Cafe Amore [Jimin x Taehyung]

Summary: Taehyung and Jimin live two opposite lives only connected by their work at a coffee shop. Yet Jimin desperately wants more. Can they bond over coffee despite Taehyung disliking it?

Personal Prompt: How does Cafe Amore make such good coffee? Simple! They make regular sacrifices to coffee gods.

Paring: Jimin (BTS) x Taehyung (BTS)

Genre: Coffee Shop AU, Fluff

Warnings: Light mention of human sacrifices

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/N: This is part of @thebtswritersclub project "heating up"! I also got the prompt "coffee shop au" which I am a sucker for. And I had an old prompt I wrote that I could use! Also. Normally I use photos from BTS's facebook for my banners. Today, I used ones from the BTS World Wiki. I remembered Jimin having been a mochi maker and just knew the vibes would fit.

In a world of darkness and frustration, what is the one thing that can brighten it all?

For Jimin and his world of darkness ( the morning rush at Cafe Amore), the answer is the boxy and warm smile of Kim Taehyung (his coworker and the only person working the front with him). The morning rush had started sooner than he was scheduled though, and Jimin was flooded with coffees, drowning in an aroma he previously loved. It was a bad idea for the coffee aficionado to work here, cursed to explain over and over again what a piccolo and a (real) macchiato are.

An hour into the rush and Taehyung finally enters. Bless his heart but he knew nothing about coffee before working at the cafe. He didn't even drink it. Instead his mind was on the specialty drinks and fun flavors he could make. It was endearing and scary how much sugar Taehyung could consume when practicing his drinks. Cafe Amore has amazing beans that shouldn't be ignored, yet here Taehyung was, almost always ignoring it. It did mean that Taehyung took Mr. "Cat" when he came in asking for a "macchiato" which Jimin was forever grateful for.

He was Jimin's best (work) friend, and Jimin always found himself thinking about how he might become real friends. The ocean between work friends and real friends felt insurmountable though. Nothing in sight and mapless.

Instead Jimin tried to find comfort in being work friends, to savor their laughter and treasure the smiles. Taehyung didn't seem like someone who'd be friends with Jimin anyways. A jazzy free spirit didn't seem to mesh well with an uptight perfectionist. Jimin spent all his freetime locked away in a dance studio while Taehyung explored the city and found niche places all around. They seemed to live in separate worlds bridged only by their work.

Jimin tapped Taehyung's calf as he rushed to get changed in the back. The rush was no where near done but now at least the rush would feel better. Taehyung was a magical salve full of small comments and smiles that fueled Jimin to keep going.

"I went to a jazz bar this weekend. It was so fun! When we have a chance, I'll show you pictures." Taehyung said as he signed into the next register, his warm hand patting Jimin's shoulder.

Jimin nodded, swallowing the silly feelings of jealousy over being able to see these events but not be let in. He chose being a busybody, but sometimes he wished for more. Taehyung made him want more.

"I had to work all weekend," Jimin forced a laugh, "Jazz sounds so much nicer."

With that, the two slid into a silent dance, rushing around to feed and fuel the 100+ coffee (and non-coffee) lovers who filled the rush. Not infrequently, they'd brush against each other, the barista bar space a glorified gap between the counters. Jimin felt himself relaxing when they bumped into each other, Taehyung's warmth a kind break from the fire of customers and the boil of the barista machine.

Two hours later, Taehyung was able to finally make himself a smoothie and the two could take a breather.

"One of the songs made me think of you." He started, the blender screaming over him, "I mean, I don't know how to dance well, but it seemed like one that would have great potential for dancing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Do you dance to jazz much?"

Jimin shrugged, "Not really. I'd be down to try though."

Try for you. His traitorous mind supplied, And then maybe you can come watch me perform.

"What do you dance to then?" Taehyung asked as he filled his cup and grabbed a straw.

"Contemporary and ballet. But I've not had much time lately," Jimin sighed and looked down, "My dance studio cut the classes I'm teaching so I've been picking up more shifts here."

Taehyung nodded, "Lot's more?"

"I mean... My pay here is much worse than my pay at the studio so yeah. I get to see the place at much quieter hours now though."

"That sounds creepy! I didn't think this place ever wasn't busy."

Jimin laughed, "There's a time between 3am and 5am that is near dead!"

Taehyung shook his head, "Sounds like a brutal time to be working. They should just close the shop then."

Jimin shrugged and took a sip of his latte.

"Were you working Saturday night?"

He nodded.

"That's when I went to this jazz bar. Want to see some of it now?"

Before long another rush came.Jimin was swept up in the hectic rush of the day, one song in the backtrack of his mind. It hung over him and he found himself stealing away to his mind to choreograph it. It totally wasn't because of the cute video of Taehyung dancing to it surrounded by old couples. The song was just good.

It would be three more days before Taehyung and Jimin were scheduled together again. Their days off just slightly overlapped and left an awkward day when one was working and the other wasn’t. *It also meant that there was a day both had off.* Jimin was asked to take his break early that day, finally getting a moment off his feet to sit and breathe. Given… early meant 4 hours in rather than 5. One of the few things he hated about the cafe was never being able to breathe while working. There was almost always work to do and if there wasn’t, a manager could find more. Sure he and Taehyung spent their fair share of time talking, but if there wasn’t the threat of more work to do soon they were working on something as they talked.

Jimin took a deep breath and looked out of the shop, imagining what he'd be doing now if bills weren't such a threat. Maybe he'd be dancing. Maybe he'd be spending more time with his cat. Maybe he'd be with friends. It was times like this that made Jimin frustrated that he had to work to live. The world was cruel and unfair and his jobs weren’t lucrative. Even with a roommate, money could get tight. The stress of living sometimes weighed on Jimin more than it seemed it weighed on others. If only he didn’t need to work. If only he could leave and not work ever again.

Jimin sighed, not liking the upset he felt at the thought of working, wanting to focus on the fun he had with Taehyung at work. He spent so many hours of his life here, stuck in the cafe with a smile. Would he be happier if he didn't work here? if he was doing other things?

"Try my new drink!" Taehyung bounded over, a neon blue beverage in his hands like a neon blue light breaking Jimin’s dark thoughts.

Jimin laughed and felt some tension leave him. He refused to think about how many spoonfuls of sugar were in the drink but at least it looked unique.

"It's a blueberry pie milkshake. One of my neighbors back home gave me a ton of blueberries that I'd been keeping in the freezer for a good time. Inspiration struck me so here it is!"

Jimin nodded, taking a slow sip the sugary sweetness coating his tongue and only barely cut through by a small hint of acid, "Mhhh. I imagine the customers who like dessert drinks will love this."

"What about you?" Taehyung asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Yeah. I think I would prefer it to be a bit tarter, but it's good." Jimin said, trying to think of how much more of him he could stomach of the sugary drink. His latte will help cut through the sugar so maybe a few more sips.

Taehyung nodded before going back behind the counter to continue working. Tiny cups lined upon the counter made Jimin worried. Was he going to offer free samples to customers? Jimin cut his break a bit shorter to toss the half-drunk milkshake out when Taehyung was in the back after watching Taehyung offer a tiny bit to anyone who passed the counter.

The rest of their day flowed uneventfully aside from one customer who spat out Taehyung’s milkshake and called it the “worst thing ever imagined”. Taehyung thankfully just laughed it off but it did mean more cleaning and Jimin took to doing it when Mr. Cat came in and his eyes zeroed in on the final batch of samples Taehyung had. That’d make the whole “worst thing ever imagined” ordeal disappear.

Jimin was first to sign off and he found himself struck by the urge to stay later if only to get off at the same time as Taehyung. Theoretically he could stay and talk with Taehyung, but he had hours of housework to do and he didn’t want to be at this cafe longer than needed. Curse modern media for making it seem like grabbing a drink after work was a common thing.

With staggered shifts at the cafe, it meant that often only one person left at a time. Yet often it felt like the only thing he could try to branch the ocean of distance between work and life. How else would one become friends with coworkers? Sure Jimin had Taehyung’s number from the work chat… but was that really something he could use? No. Jimin sighed when he got into his car, taking a few moments to breathe before driving away.

Taehyung was at work before Jimin the next day, his eyes wide as he sipped a black drink.

"What ya' got there?" Jimin asked as he clocked in.

"Americano."

"Sugary?"

"No. It's black."

"Thought you didn't like black coffee," Jimin said with a laugh as he walked back to grab his apron.

"I didn't think I did. But Mr. Cat had some after getting a whiff of someone’s latte. Don’t ask me how or why he smelled someone’s latte. Made me decide to try one."

Jimin nodded but didn't know what to say. All their coffee smelled good to him and as he brewed himself a cappuccino, it didn’t smell different. Nor did it taste different when he took a sip. Well the milk did, but that was because they got a different brand. He watched as Taehyung reached for a second cup of americano and eventually a third.

"You might want to slow down on your coffee." Jimin finally said, reaching out to take the cup from Taehyung.

"Why? I'm enjoying the coffee."

Jimin nodded and laughed, "Yeah. But this has a lot of caffeine, especially if you've not had much caffeine before. Maybe switch to a decaf one? Or water? Maybe some food."

Taehyung sighed, "Wow. Ok, dad. This has water in it," But he did grab something to eat from his bag and started sipping on his water.

"The coffee here is really good though. You might really like it in a latte or cappuccino. The milk mellows out the bitterness."

Taehyung nodded, his cheeks filling with his breakfast bar, "How do they make it so good? This batch smelled better than others so maybe they changed a supplier?"

Jimin shrugged, "Not that I know of."

The conversation died down as a rush came, the usual caffeine junkies and work-in-cafe people coming and going throughout the two hours. Jimin was glad that Taehyung didn’t have a chance to make another drink for himself. The dude was definitely shaking from how much he already drank.

"Omg! what if they started sacrificing people to make their coffee better?" Taehyung said, jumping from the chair he was lounging on during his break, his eyes wide. Jimin was thankful that Taehyung wasn’t holding his latte as he started swinging his arms around.

Jimin laughed and shook his head.

"I've read stories of people investigating similar stuff, "Taehyung continued, coming up to the counter to whisper conspiratorially, "I once heard of someone... I think his name was Namjoon and he went searching into a coffee shop because their stuff suddenly got good but people were going missing. Do we know of anyone who went missing recently?

Raising an eyebrow, Jimin tried to think of where this story might have come from "I don't think so. Besides, I've been working 50 hours lately, when would they have had time to kidnap people? How would it even make the coffee better?"

Taehyung threw his hands up, his eyes widening with dramatics, "There are gods you can sacrifice people to, duh."

Did this come from a book Taehyung read?

Jimin nodded, sipping his tea, "Sure. So this Namjoon dude went and investigated?"

Taehyung nodded, "Yeah. Apparently in the attic, there was a whole ass cult!" Taehyung shivered, "Imagine if that was happening here!"

"We have an office above us and no basement."

"You never know! What if they just told us that? Anyways Namjoon went missing apparently."

Jimin nodded, his mind finally landing on a book that fit what Taehyung was talking about. *Dungeons and Dry Cappuccinos.*, "Maybe Namjoon ended up being sacrificed. Maybe the missing people were a lure for people with no life who spent too much time online."

That last part wasn’t part of the story but it always seemed true to Jimin.

Taehyung hummed, deep in thought, "I saw pictures of him somewhere. He's hot. I think he actually wooed this god named Seokjin. They, like, lived happily ever after. What if he and this god married and have coffee orchards?"

Jimin laughed, thinking back on the promotional material for the book, "I don't think coffee orchards exist."

"You know what I mean."

Jimin nodded, "If that's the case and no one has gone missing around us,how do we keep the coffee here so good? Clearly it’s good for the bank."

“Well our dessert drinks are more expensive so I don’t know about that. But…” Taehyung got quiet, his eyes focusing on nothing as he thought, "If Seokjin has blessed us then I think there has to be more love here. Not enough romance happens. That has to change."

Taehyung looked serious, his eyes burning with passion. Jimin felt alive with the intimidation and curiosity. What was Taehyung playing at?

Jimin laughed and shook his head, "How?"

"Go on a date with me."

His breath caught in his throat, unable to believe that Taehyung was asking this. Searching Taehyung’s face, Jimin saw no mirth anymore. Was he serious?

"What?"

The sureness left Taehyung’s face and he looked down, scraping at some dried coffee grounds, "To appease the coffee gods, of course."

Was Taehyung just as unsure about getting closer? Jimin smiled, trying to calm the excitement in his stomach.

"Of course. It’s vital we appease Seokjin. When?"

#wkcnet #rainingmxmnet #bts fanfic #vmin fanfic #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts v #bts vmin #bts mxm #bts fluff #bts coffee shop au #bts vmin fluff

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