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myherowritings · 3 years

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PART 6. FUCK THE RICH, STEAL THEIR CANDY

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 3.7k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji...ew, some judgmental rich people, just a little bit of sexual tension and suggestive content to prep for the next part ;3

A/N. gala time omg let’s gooooo writing this made me 100% ready to fight rich ppl fjhjkgf and want to give shouto all the kisses ;p i hope you enjoy and tysm for reading!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

The only thing you hoped for this past week was for Shouto not to regret the events that happened in the dressing room. (Or, more precisely, the events that didn’t happen because of an interruption but you both had very much wanted to happen at the time.)

(Or so you hoped he did. It seemed like he did…)

You groaned, burrowing your face in your pillows after flopping back onto your bed after a shower. Why was this so confusing?

It wasn’t like Shouto was ignoring you or pretending nothing happened, but he’s just been so busy with work neither of you had time to sit down and really talk. You briefly got to see him for his daily morning coffee runs but you didn’t want to accidentally ruin what little time throughout the work week the two of you had by bringing it up. And now it was the weekend, which would have been the perfect time to talk about it, if not for the fact Shouto was picking you up to get ready at his place and then head to a super fancy gala in less than an hour!

With a charity ball full of strangers you had to prepare for, you supposed your potential romance could take the back seat for a little while longer.

At least the fruity little candies would be there waiting for you.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Shouto telling you he was less than 20 minutes away from your place. Within the last few minutes, you double checked you had the necessities, like your makeup and clothes and hair supplies and shoes and possibly every ‘getting ready’ product you could think of under the sun, all ready to go. Your dress was already hanging in Shouto’s house, ready for you to change into.

Apparently, there wasn’t a moment left to spare since you soon got a call with him telling you he had just arrived. Taking deep breaths, you walked out your door, lugging your bag of belongings in tow.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” Shouto greeted as you settled into his car. He smiled as you reached over to give him a quick side hug. He squeezed your shoulder gently. “Nervous about tonight?”

You tried to calm the tapping your fingers were doing against the inside of the car door. “Is it obvious?”

“Not really,” he assured. “Regardless, you shouldn’t worry. You’ll be an amazing date and we don’t even need to stay the whole time if you would rather not.”

Amazing date date? Or amazing fake date?

Would it be too forward of you to ask? (Not that anything could’ve been more forward than Shouto pinning you against a wall and almost kissing you just a few days ago.)

“You’re right, it’ll be fine!” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “After all, you’ll be there.”

A smile. “Hm.”

It didn’t take very long for you to get from your place to his seeing as he lived relatively close to his work and therefore yours. He parked in front of a luxury high-rise apartment that was characterized by glass windows and angled architecture. It looked like something straight out of Portfolio Magazine.

“All those ‘Japan’s Youngest CEO Bachelor’ tabloids are starting to make sense now,” you said with a teasing whistle, following Shouto into the building after being greeted by the security guards and receptionist.

He held his hand out to you and you placed yours in his palm as he led you to the VIP elevator that brought you all the way up to the top floor. His hand gave yours a soft squeeze when he noticed your gaze darting around the area nervously.

When the elevator doors opened, your eyes widened as you took in the ceramic floor tiles, the spotless walls, floor-to-ceiling mirror columns, and the natural light pouring in through the bare, glass windows. “Whoa— This looks like a wealthy bachelor pad if I’ve ever seen one.”

Letting go of your hand, Shouto offered to take your bag of belongings and brought it to a room for you to get ready in. “Do you...not like it?”

“Oh, that’s not it at all!” You shook your head earnestly. “This place is so beautiful! And a little cold.”

Both literally and metaphorically.

His penthouse was elegant and sleek, with tasteful decor that probably cost more than a month’s salary for you. But it seemed a little...empty. Not like a home.

Apparently, Shouto agreed.

“I live here because it’s close to work. But it’s a little unwelcoming,” he admitted wryly. “Not something I ever really settled into. Though my mother and sister did try to help decorate.”

You looked at the finely chosen contemporary paintings displayed on some of the walls. “They have good eyes.”

Shouto nodded but appeared to be in pensive thought. “If I were to ever settle down with a family, it wouldn’t be here. But this is what’s most suitable for now.”

Running your fingers against the cold glass windows, you peered down into the city in an attempt to calm your fluttering heart having just learned Shouto valued having a family in the future. Something in you just liked hearing he one day wanted to settle down with someone. You bit your lower lip to stop a hopeful smile from spreading.

“I’m sure you’ll be a great husband and father when the day comes,” you said quietly, still gazing out the window to avoid looking into his eyes. “But, um, anyway— I should start getting ready now! Don’t want us to be late for tonight.”

His hand that was reaching out to hold you suddenly dropped to his side as he stepped away at your words. “Of course.”

You silently cursed yourself under your breath, wishing you had waited a few moments to talk so you could’ve seen what he was going to do. Would he have tried to kiss you again? You hoped that was the case, but it was too late to know for sure now.

“You can get ready in here,” said Shouto, opening the door to what looked like a guest bedroom, your dress hanging on an armoire inside. “There’s your dress. And the bathroom is right there if you need it.”

“Thank you, Shouto.” You resisted the urge to plop right on the huge bed and jump on it while he was in the room. “I’ll try to be quick!”

“No need to rush; we have time.” He checked the watch on his wrist before turning to you. “I’ll be in the shower for a bit but if you need anything just let me know.”

In the shower? While you were under the same roof? Your stomach did funny flips at the thought.

“I’ll keep your offer in mind,” you said playfully, glancing over at the dress. You’d need his assistance sooner or later buttoning the dress up, but there was sadly no time for funny business if you wanted to make it to the gala in a timely manner.

When Shouto left the room to take a shower, you began getting ready yourself. You did your hair and makeup in a way that made you feel confident and happy, and by the time you were done about two hours had passed. All you had left was to change into the dress and throw on some fancy shoes and you’d be set with time to spare.

You were just wondering if Shouto was almost ready when you heard a knock on the door.

Speak of the devil. Or angel. He was much too sweet to be the devil, after all.

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, voice muffled from the outside of the wall.

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you. “Yeah! Just putting on the dress now.”

There was a shuffle outside then a pause. Then, “Did you want any help?”

“Yes, please.” You slipped into your outfit and pulled the front over your chest. The fabric was light against your body, making it feel almost ethereal.

After a while, Shouto cautiously opened the door to the room and you turned to catch sight of him. He was dressed up in a fitted black suit with silky red trimmings and a tie that matched the color of your dress. His hair was combed back and to the side, pulled out of his face and giving you a clear view of his forehead. That was one pretty forehead.

All in all, he looked as handsome as ever, but with some extra pizzazz.

“You look great,” you both said at the same time.

There was a beat of silence, then you both laughed.

“I’m only half in my dress and I’m sure I look a bit unruly, but thank you,” you giggled as Shouto walked over to grasp at the fastens on the back of your gown.

He shook his head. “You look beautiful like you always do. The dress just helps compliment it even more.”

His words brought warmth to your cheeks and you were glad you were faced away from him so he couldn’t see your all too pleased expression. “Smooth talker much?”

“Not flattery. Just the truth.”

Your smile grew even wider. “Hm.”

Shouto nimbly fastened the buttons on your back, cold fingertips lightly grazing your skin in ways that sent shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes and hoped that was only a phrase and that he couldn’t actually tell how much your body was affected from such a simple touch by sensing shivers in your spine.

You held your breath as he travelled up your back, skin sparking against skin. Time seemed to slow down as he closed the last few buttons.

“Finished,” he said quietly, though his hands didn’t move from their position on you.

Turning around, you caught his palms in yours, lightly stroking his knuckles with your thumb. Shouto looked down at your hands joined together then back at you.

You murmured, “Thanks for your assistance.”

The tips of your noses were almost brushing together as you stared up at him. If either one of you were to lean forward a few centimeters more, your lips would be touching. Just like in the fitting room last weekend.

And just like in the fitting room, Shouto’s hands encircled your waist and toyed with the buttons on your dress while you tugged at his color.

But just like in the fitting room, there was an interruption mere seconds before the kiss. It’s just that, this time, the interruption was from you.

“Wait! I have makeup on!” you cried, pulling away in despite the dissatisfaction you knew the both of you were feeling. “If we kiss it might get messed up and I’ll have to redo it and then we’ll be late to the gala.”

He made deep a sound of frustration. “Fuck the gala.”

You wanted to. In this very moment, you would much rather ditch the gala and fuck something else, but you had to remain somewhat rational. “But we made a commitment to show up, didn’t we?”

Shouto looked down like he had just been chided. “We did.”

“Plus… The candy!”

He blinked before a grin took over his face. He chuckled, “Of course. Can’t forget the greatest candy heist of the year.”

“Exactly!”

His smile was amused but his hands rested intimately on your hips. “Besides, you put in effort to get ready for tonight, it’d be a disservice to keep you from showing it off.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment as you let out a laugh. “Flatterer,” you accused, though your tone had no bite to it. Instead, it was teasing as you brought your palm up to cup his jaw. “We should probably get going if we don’t want to be late, hmm?”

“Mm.”

“But first—” You planted a kiss on his cheek, giving him just a small hint of what could come later that night. When you pulled away, there was a lipstick mark in the shape of your lips where his jawline met his cheek an you smiled, satisfied with your work.

His grip on you tightened as his gaze turned hooded. “If I’m a flatterer, you’re being a tease.”

“Sounds like a good combination to me.”

— ✩ —

Oddly enough, the Naruhata Charity Gala was going quite well.

The food was yummy, there were cute places for you and Shouto to sneak off and take obnoxious selfies, and—most importantly—there were bowls of free candies scattered throughout the entire premise.

A whole building was rented out for the charity ball to be held and the venue even had an outdoor pool and with complimentary champagne (not that anyone was exactly prepared to take a dip in the middle of the night, but the only thing that mattered to the guests was that you could).

Both of you were having fun.

You met some of Shouto’s friends, got complimented by the DJ for your...enthusiastic dance skills on the dance floor, and, for most of the night, Shouto was successful in avoiding making conversation with his father.

Things were going well. Until they weren’t.

You and Shouto were standing in a hallway just outside the main ballroom, exchanging jokes and talking about how many crabcakes a person could fit in their mouth. Totally business as usual, until you heard a group of people whispering only mere feet away from you.

“Are you sure that’s them?” a woman in a red dress whispered—and you used that term rather subjectively since the whisper could be heard by practically half the room—as she glanced at you.

Seeing their gazes, you froze in your spot. Shouto must have heard them to since his brows furrowed as he held you closer to him, protectively.

“And you really heard them, right? Mr. Todoroki has a… You know…”

Another girl who you recognized as another customer from the dress store the other day nodded her head. “Yes, I overheard it with my own two ears when I was getting my outfit. That’s Mr. Todoroki and his sugar baby!”

You almost choked on your crabcake.

Shouto rubbed circles into your back. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said sheepishly, trying not to draw even more attention to yourself than there already was. On the plus side, at least more people would notice how hot you look in this dress with your hair and makeup done. (Though it might be for the wrong reasons…)

You vaguely recalled teasing Shouto about looking like a sugar daddy, and he joked back. But you didn’t think anyone would want to gossip enough to overhear a joke and spread it around as a rumor!

The group began chattering some more and seemed to gain a crowd. You even saw a large figure you recognized as Todoroki Enji walking towards you.

“I’m going to have to clear things up, aren’t I?”

Shouto shook his head, a frown present on his face. But you knew his displeasure wasn’t directed at you. “You don’t need to pay attention to this nonsense. People can think what they want.”

“It’s okay! I don’t want to ruin your reputation with the media when I was initially here to help it get better. Besides, they don’t seem to be doing it maliciously. They’re just curious.”

He looked at you, but before he could think of the words to say, you walked over to the group of gossiping partygoers.

You tapped on the shoulder of the one you saw at the store. “Hi! Excuse me…” All eyes turned to you and you tried not to shrink down. “I, ah, I know what you overheard that day at the dress retailers, but I just wanted to clear it up and say it was a joke! Funny right? Well, maybe not so funny to you guys, but it was just an inside joke between me and Shouto.” You laughed, growing nervous at the lack of response. “You see, I’m not actually his sugar—”

Just then, a booming voice interrupted, “Shouto! What are you thinking, son?”

You almost jumped at the sound and turned towards the direction of your date. As you whirled around, you made eye contact with him. Shouto had a furious expression on his face, but when his gaze met yours he tried giving you a comforting smile. Seeing his distress, you immediately made your way back to him.

“A nice woman to boost your media image,” Enji whispered, trying to lead his son to a less crowded area, probably so no one else would overhear or spread more rumors. “That’s all I asked for. Not a…a…you know!”

Was it a criterion that rich people must not know how to whisper? you asked yourself. Either, one, no one was actually trying to whisper, or two, they could not control their volume very well.

“Actually,” you spoke up from behind him. When Enji turned to look at you, you gave him a wave before walking over to Shouto’s side. “I’m not his sugar baby. But even if I were, what’s it to you?”

There was a hush of silence that settled around the room and you almost had to laugh at how comical it was.

“As long as it’s an agreement between two consenting adults, there’s nothing wrong with it,” you said, hoping it didn’t just go in one of his ears and out the other. “You could think of it as like a business deal, but...with more of a relationship aspect.”

Enji’s face turned a shade of red. “That’s not the sort of people someone with Shouto’s upbringing should hang around with. I don’t know how you were raised, but—”

“Stop it, father.” Shouto’s voice was angry as he clenched his jaw. But his arm was wrapped around your waist. You gently squeezed his hand with yours. “You don’t get to make assumptions about Y/N without ever even talking to them.”

“Shouto,” he said in a warning tone when he noticed more and more people were paying attention to them. This didn’t exactly seem like the attention he wanted. “We can talk about this later.”

Shouto frowned. “There’s nothing to talk about. All you have to do is say sorry to Y/N and then we can leave.” He turned around to the crowd trying to pretend they weren’t listening in. “And everyone else, you can stop eavesdropping.”

They look startled at the forward confrontation and you stifled a giggle, leaning into your date with a smile.

He gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before murmuring under his breath, “Everyone attending a charity gala just to brag about how generous they are but then turning around to judge everyone who might not be in the same circle as them? How shameless.”

Although it seemed like he was whispering it, your hypothesis that rich people really didn’t know how to whisper was right, since it was loud enough for the whole room to hear. Not that you or Shouto seemed to mind.

“You know, if you’re not going to apologize to Y/N, there’s no reason we should stay any longer,” he told his dad as a stiff goodbye.

You nodded in agreement before taking a handful of candy from a nearby bowl. “Well, now there’s no reason to stay.”

Spinning on your heel, the two of you headed for the exit, somehow not caring but all too aware of the eyes on you at the same time. Before reaching the door, Shouto grabbed two bowls of candy in the reception area and walked out the door with it, everyone too stunned to say anything about it. You walked into the parking lot smothering fits of laughter the whole way, still in disbelief about the events that had just occurred.

“For you,” said Shouto as the two of you reached his car, still carrying the candy in his arms.

You choked out a laugh at the audacity of it all. He even took the bowls? The candies were free for the guests, but you weren’t so sure the bowls were. “I… Thanks, Shouto. I’m never going to run out of these candies now!”

“Hm,” was the approving noise he made.

When you both got into his car, he looked at you before turning the engine on. Now that the adrenaline had passed, he had a much more solemn expression on his face.

“Y/N,” he said, sounding apologetic, “I’m really sorry about my dad. And about the gossip. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t too bad, and none of it was your fault! Besides,” you said, giving his hand on the gear shift a squeeze. After pulling out of the parking spot, he let go of the stick and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I had the best date ever to make up for it.”

“I have to disagree with that because I think I was the one with the best date.” Shouto smiled playfully, squeezing your hand in his.

“Agree to disagree, then.”

He chuckled and you grinned. Tonight was going great until the last hour’s mishap, and while it was uncomfortable and disheartening to hear gossip about you from people who were supposed to be sophisticated, grown adults, you weren’t lying when you told Shouto he was enough to make up for all that bullshit. You were grateful for him standing up for you and basically saying fuck rich people and charity galas in front of them all.

Oh, and for getting you enough candy to last you at least a few months, of course.

He really was the best date ever.

As Shouto signaled to get out of the structure, he asked, “Now, should I take you back to your home or…?”

You shook your head, already knowing where he was going with this (and very much liking it). “Hmm,” you drawled, pretending to think about it. “How about we go back to your place to finally finish what we started?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

In all honesty, you were quite surprised yourself that you asked. But, damn, would you be glad you did.

a/n: woOO EAT THE RICH STEAL THEIR CANDY STEAL THEIR BOWLS HGFJKS, i’m already so in love with shouto but i have fallen in love with one (1) rich boy even more :3

what to expect in the next part:

yes. it’s time for u know what ;)

y/n and shouto finally……high five <3

jkjk

THE NEXT PART IS THE FINAL PART AND YOU WILL SEE WHY THIS SERIES OVERALL HAD TO BE 18+ KSKKFG

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warmau · 3 years

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summer is supposed to be a time of happiness, of adventure and goofing around under the constant sunlight

and so when you start summer, you are all smiles and big dreams! unfiltered energy to do whatever you want!

and whatever you want is definitely

NOT spending even a day (actually three) in the hospital after you end up falling off your bike and breaking your ankle like the absolute unlucky person that you are

"that is so gnarly dude, my condolences"

chenle mutters, skateboard under hand and shaking his head

jisung nods in agreement beside him - still wearing his helmet even after your nurse gives him a look about it

"hey, at least you're getting all this free candy?"

jaemin motions, picking up a 'get better soon' box filled with chocolates from your uncle

he pops one in his mouth and haechan swats his hand away before he can steal any more

mark sighs and gives you a sad smile, renjun puts the flowers they all bought together in a vase by your bed

it's all a little too much - and you tell them it's fine, it's just an ankle and you'll be out of here in no time

they all agree, except for jeno who is sitting at the foot of your bed with his volleyball uniform still on and his duffel bag between his legs on the floor

you keep throwing glances his way because you have never seen jeno so quiet in your life

mark - who is the brains of your friend group (oddly enough) - catches the looks of worry

so he does what any good friend would do, he tells all the remaining members he saw a machine with snacks out in the hall and they all excuse themselves with 'see you soon!'s' out of your hospital room

jeno doesn't move a muscle

"how was practice? jaemin looks happy so im guessing you guys are going to be in great shape when school starts again?"

there isn't any response and jeno is almost hidden with the way his head is hanging low and his hands are clasped on his knees

"jeno-"

"it's my fault you're in here."

you puff your cheeks and cross your legs

"oh please! it's my own fault! is that why you're acting all sad?"

he doesn't answer and the lack of communication is making you nervous more than it is making you angry

jeno and you are close, to the point of knowing each other's parents by their first names and who your first kisses were back in middle school

he has never been one to lack the words for a conversation - at least not with you

you wish you could scoot closer and pinch his cheek or poke his forehead

but your cast is restricting movement and these days touching jeno feels......different

"i should have stopped you before you went down that hill, i was there and i couldn't save you-"

"jeno, im not made of glass and plus im not even that hurt!"

he finally shifts so he can look at your leg, propped up on the pillow and covered in its cast that has been brightly decorated with signatures and doodles

the way his gaze travels up your hospital gown and to you, you know he isn't registering anything you're saying

you sit up a little and hide the wince behind another set of promises to jeno that you are ok and you don't need him to blame himself when he has so much more going on on his plate

"you and jaemin are going to graduate after the upcoming semester and that means it's your last year with the volleyball team. you should focus on practice and being the best you can be - when i can get myself up on those crutches ill come visit to see how you guys are doing!"

he seems to soften, the sharp angles of his face that have just gotten more handsome as he ages still somehow manage to look sweet and youthful

he picks his duffel bag up off the floor and leans toward you like he's going to push some hair from your face or kiss your forehead

he's done both before - but this is the first time the gesture has made the blood in your veins stop and something imaginary clog in the back of your throat

instead of doing either jeno seems to buffer as he hovers above you, reaching out to fluff the edge of your pillow

"ok, but also you have to be serious about your recovery."

he pulls back and the same concern as before washes over him, his vocal tone lowers

"don't go doing anything dangerous."

you point to your cast with a half-smile

"i don't think that's going to be possible."

you get discharged from the hospital the next day, not that it brightens your summer any further, you basically just end up trading the hospital bed for the four walls of your own room

the group chat explodes with more well wishes

but you change the subject, all the pity makes you cringe

'how was volleyball practice?'

several people start typing - except for jeno

jaemin's reply comes first, 'it was good!'

followed by jisung's, 'but.....jeno didn't show up...'

renjun adds 'he said he wasn't feeling well - don't worry!'

you furrow your eyebrows

'has anyone visited him? does he need medicine?'

haechan texts something before anyone can really stop him, 'im pretty sure he's just being sad - if he had the stomach flu we all be sick. we eat together everyday.'

'haechan!' mark replies as jaemin sends a shaking his head emoji

'wait. jeno is sad?'

it goes silent and then suddenly jeno is typing

'im not sad, im fine. ill be at practice tomorrow.'

you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding in

it's only natural that you, as jeno's friend, would be worried about him. at least, that's what you tell yourself.

to be honest - now that you're not out enjoying summer - you're more than ever stuck with your own thoughts and the most recent string of them is: what changed between you and jeno?

for years it had been easy going fun, the simple enjoyment of each others company

but ever since it started getting warm enough for t-shirts - there has been a shift in the central point of you and jeno's friendship

you are suddenly hyper-aware of how strong the outline of his arms looks.

you notice when he wears different cologne.

you see the way other people turn their heads to look at him when he walks by, the way they pick up on the handsome features that make up your best friend

and you can't help but feel something cruel and cold fester in the pit of your stomach when you think jeno might one day look back at that stranger ..... and notice their features too

you sit up, which is a mistake because you shift your foot and it makes you yelp, but you look at your phone again

the gc has moved onto topics of video games so you message jeno outside of it

'hey, if something is wrong you can tell me'

he reads the message and doesn't reply. you tell yourself that's totally fine.

a couple of weeks pass before anyone lets you limp out of the house by yourself

you've mastered crutches and when you really need something, one of your friends delivers it

although recently, it seems to be everyone but jeno

everything otherwise seems normal

no one really talks about volleyball - which is fine, you just assume they're busy practicing

and so you hobble down to the school gym that's still open for the student-athletes during the break and are secretly happy to bump into mark who helps you with the stairs

"by the way, don't be upset with him ok."

mark says before you enter the gym - you look at him with a raised eyebrow

"upset with who?"

mark swallows - just tilts his head and when you go inside you look everywhere, you see everyone, but you don't see jeno

"im guessing he isn't in the locker rooms?"

you ask mark with a deflated tone of voice, mark shakes his head

"he hasn't been to practice at all."

you can understand why no one had told you.

like mark said, they knew you'd get on his case about it - which is what you plan on doing when you end up on his front porch

jeno comes down with messy hair and basketball shorts on. he's not wearing a shirt and immediately you think you lose the ability to speak

"you shouldn't be walking around just yet."

he says and you frown

"it's been a while now, plus im not here about me. im here to ask what you think you're doing."

jeno crosses his arms and you hate the involuntary flex of his muscles.

actually, you don't hate it, you hate that you stare when you don't mean to.

he ushers you into the backyard and motions for you to sit on one of the patio chairs

he's still being the same thoughtful guy you grew up with but you're beyond confused

"are you quitting volleyball - why aren't you going to practice?"

"im not quitting. i just don't feel like it - i don't feel like doing anything."

you reach out with one of your crutches to poke him, he makes a face

"im the one with a broken ankle - im the one who gets to be depressed. c'mon, tell me what's really wrong."

jeno falls silent, you notice that he hasn't completely shaved and there's a bit of a shadow on his jawline

you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat

this is your best friend since you were kids. you are literally not going to think anything but pure thoughts from now on. ok. stop. don't you dare.

"that's the thing. you have a broken ankle, you can't even go to the beach and im supposed to do what - enjoy the summer without my best friend?"

he throws his hands up and you see an expression you barely ever get from jeno form on his face

"i could have stopped you from being reckless, i could have made sure you weren't in that stupid cast and that you could-"

"jeno!"

you cut him off and he looks at you, the momentary distraction of your newfound attraction to him dissipates as you grind your teeth

"i told you that it's no way your fault i got hurt - plus it's not like you personally broke my ankle and im not suffering torturous pain. things happen like this in life - don't beat yourself up about it!"

you wish you could get up to make your point, but the best you manage is a shaky lift grabbing onto your chair

jeno gets up to help you but you shoo him away

"it hurts me more to see you moping around on my behalf! did you think about that, how it would make me feel to hear that my injury is making you slack on the things you like?!"

he blinks and you suddenly feel a rush of different things

one is that you hate how he seems to be so full of pity for you, another is that you hate how he's kind of right about this summer being pointless now that you can barely move, but the last is that because of all these things happening you can't even properly wrap your head around the fact that you think you like him

and not in the platonic way you'd been beating on liking him your whole life

so to add this to the pile - you take your crutches and give him a stern look

"just start going to practice. i told you when i was in the hospital, i'll always come to cheer you on when i can. that doesn't change for me, broken ankle or not because you're my best friend and i want to see you succeed."

and i love you

you don't say the last part, you bite your lip back and although you can't storm off in your usual fiery passion, you make it out of his backyard and let a heaviness fall off your chest as you somehow manage to get back home

the sound of messages incoming on your phone are drowned away by your tiredness

i just want to be a source of happiness for you, i never wanted to be your burden jeno.

the next day there's a knock on your bedroom door - you tell them to come in and go wide-eyed when you see jeno there

he's in his volleyball uniform and he's holding something in his hands

"jen-"

"im sorry. you were right, i can't use you as an excuse to be lazy anymore. i brought these."

he hands you the tupperware of cookies and you are about to ask him if he made these when jeno's familiar, warm laughter fills your room

"i didn't make them, they're chipsahoy but i thought the gesture could count."

you look down at them - he's so silly.

you look back up at jeno's smile - i really love him.

"good. now go have fun at practice, ill visit you guys later in the week."

he comes closer to you and suddenly the air in the room stills, he leans over and you think you can feel the temperature of your skin rise to an unsafe level when he hooks his pinkie with yours

"promise?"

you nod and he disappears with a wave. you sit in your bed and hold the cookies.

maybe breaking my ankle and not spending every minute around him might actually have been a good thing.

as you promised, you show up to practice at the end of the week.

jeno is there and he lights up when he sees you, helps you with your crutches and everyone gathers around to tell you how thankful they are that you went and got jeno to comeback

jisung randomly sputters a, "the only person who can control him is you. it's like he's your boyfriend."

mark catches the look on your face before jeno does and flicks jisung on the head, "what do you know about dating - c'mon lets go get water for everyone."

the comment swims around your head for the entire time you're there - and you don't know it, but it swims around jeno's as well

when practice is over, jaemin offers to drive everyone home - no one agrees because they're probably terrified of his driving

and jeno says he'll be the one to walk you home

it's nothing unusual, you've been with jeno throughout your whole childhood, but there seems to be a weird pause among your group when he announces it

when you and him set off toward your house, mark does something weird - he winks at you and you take a second before

oh - he knows i like jeno doesn't he?

you can only go at the of the equivalent of snail's pace, and jeno matches it without complaint

you don't say anything and it makes it that much harder to distract the chanting about how good he looks and how you can't believe you're that person who fell in love with their best friend and how this summer is so confusing its almost vomit-inducing and-

"hey, would it be weird if i liked you?"

it feels like the earth itself has been dropped from the shoulders of atlas, you think suddenly all the gravity has gone and disappeared

you stop and look at jeno who sets his bag down on the asphalt

the boy you met when you were young is suddenly not a boy anymore, his shadow is tall and mature against the setting summer sun

"liked me?"

he scratches the back of his neck and then nods

"i had said i can't use your injury as my excuse to be lazy. i actually wasn't being lazy, i was just going through a hard time because i thought i had hurt the person most important to me in the world."

your heart thumps against your chest so hard it kind of hurts

"me?"

"yeah, and i realized your friend can be the most important person in the world - but i think it's different the way i feel about now......i like you."

"i love you."

you blurt it out before you can even really stop yourself, jeno looks shocked for about a second before it breaks into a big smile on his face

the one you haven't seen in what seems like forever, the one that feels genuine and right

"oh cool, i actually love you too - i just didn't know if i should say it-"

"can you come over here and kiss me, these crutches are kind of making it hard for me."

no one is surprised when you and jeno announce in the gc that you're going on your first date

mark tries to act it, but literally everyone is like finally - you do ask mark if he knew all along about how you felt and he goes i knew how you felt and how jeno felt. you two are open books.

the date isn't as thrilling as you both might have wanted, the broken ankle is still kind of getting in the way, so jeno takes you out to the lake and does all the rowing himself

you offer, since it's your hands, but he insists he can do it himself and he does. seriously, he's way stronger than you remember him being a year ago.

you guys eat on the grass when you get back and he effortlessly picks you back up onto your feet, you swoon everytime but try not to show it

and when jeno drops you off - he kisses you again, and this time he doesn't have to have you tell him to - he picks the perfect moment

being his best friend and dating him doesn't change too much, it's just you're now holding hands everytime you hangout and you're kissing in the back of jaemin's car much to his disappointment and well

it's just made everything easier - you're not wrapped in your head about what's different, because nothing is, you just are honest with how you both feel

jeno and jaemin even get visited by scouts for volleyball and when jeno tells you about it you try to jump up to hug him and he's like bABE CAST but too late you're like OW and he's like oh god oh god let me hold you

you're like jeno let's learn to bake cookies for real so we don't have to buy chipsahoy to give each other and he's down for it but then you both almost set the kitchen on fire and call renjun like ten times to ask about the recipe and basically you are both banned from baking again

your cast gets filled in with hearts from jeno...you let him lay his head on you when he's playing games on his phone and you're like watching him play and when you get bored you're like let's kiss instead

jeno leaves all his hoodies 'accidentally' over at your house because he knows you like wearing them but won't admit it outloud

the summer continues on until suddenly it's colder outside and the reality of school coming back dawns on everyone

and also, you get the date for when your cast will be removed

jeno asks if you're going to keep it once it gets cracked - you say you might, you woulnd't want to lose all those cute hearts he scribbled on them and he just smiles and kisses your forehead

"i'd scribble all the hearts everywhere for you."

"that's cute, we should save that for when we get married."

and you do save it for then - years later when you're showing jeno the design on your invitations

beside both your names is a cluster of different hearts, all doodled by jeno himself

"how'd you get these?"

"kept a part of my broken cast."

he stares at you with wide eyes

"im joking, i got them off a napkin you doodled on when we were at dinner."

jeno pokes his tongue out at you and you giggle as he wraps his arms around your waist as to not let you get away

the softness of your love and silliness of your friendship is still there

it'll always be there - through all the broken ankles, casts, and doodled hearts to come.

#weeeeeee now i only have two neos left #nct dream au #jeno au #nct dream scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct dream imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream #sfw #nostalgia au #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.7

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Cassandra gradually starts taking up more of your time. Or, more accurately, demands it like it’s her birthright.

Every day, you wake her up with a kiss to her shoulder or neck and a whisper of her name. She comes to you when she’s bored at random times during your shifts, to either talk –complain— about her sisters or to outright distract you. There are times at night when you’ll feel the chill of her slip into your bed and press up against your back, but she’s always gone by morning light, like a dream.

She used to be just another component to your nightmares. Now… she’s what takes them away.

And you’re afraid.

That you’re growing to like the time with her while she’s just playing around, that it will cut that much deeper when you find yourself on the end on her sickle. Because how else can it end, you reason, between the two of you?

The thought momentarily makes your liplock with Cassandra taste bitter, despite the sweet strawberry taste of her lip balm -and no way she’s putting that on for you, right?

She has you pressed deep into a plush armchair with her palm on your chest, while her thighs are locked tight on either side of yours. You want to tell her that you should stop –both because you’re literally in the open and anyone can walk in on you and because it’s late—but her lips are doing wicked things to your neck and you can’t find your voice long enough.

When Cassandra starts grinding down on you though, rather impatiently too, you have to speak up before she starts something neither of you can finish.

“Cassandra.” you say breathily. A sharp nip comes over your pulse, then slippery lips close around the area. “Ah! Cassandra. You’ll be late for dinner.”

She tsks and pulls back, expression much like a kid that got her hand slapped away from the cookie jar. She dismounts you with the same sour look, smoothing down her robes.

“Walk me there.” she orders.

You rise and fall into step beside her, trying not to linger on how strange it feels. It should be nothing, really, considering all the activities the two of you nightly indulge in, but it’s… something.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically quiet, keeps gazing out the windows as though calculating or pinpointing something while you make your way to the dining room.

She comes to a sudden halt just before you reach it, turns to you, steals a quick kiss and then quickly leaves you behind, a colder aura about her as she strolls inside.

You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, but not what she says. Once a few minutes have passed and you can safely blend into the background, you join the other maids on standby within.

You used to hate it here. Having them all in front of you like that, serving them wine, when they’re all to blame for taking any semblance of normalcy out of your life. You never glance at what they’re eating. You still dislike dinner time.

But.

When Alcina makes a snide comment about Heisenberg and you hear Cassandra’s laugh above Daniela’s giggle and Bela’s chuckle…

It no longer seems so bad.

“Bela, stay a moment.” Cassandra says after Lady Dimitrescu leaves with Daniela in tow.

“Oh, no.” The blonde huffs under her hood.

“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” The younger sibling raises her hands in exasperation.

“When you go ‘Bela~’” You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral as you’re cleaning the table because hearing the normally stoic sister mimic Cassandra’s voice like that is just plain gold. “It’s never good.” her tone turns flat once more.

Cassandra very pointedly rolls her pretty eyes. “I need you to cover for me.”

“See?” Bela sighs. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a question, I was just trying to give you the illusion of choice.” Cassandra shrugs. “I’m going out tonight.”

“What?” Bela damn near hisses. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s fine it’s, like, thirteen degrees.”

“How is that fine?”

The elder sister’s gaze then flits to you. There is no other maid in the vicinity that can overhear them, but she’s clearly uncomfortable with you picking up the implications of their conversation.

You still don’t get it. You guessed their aversion to sunlight has to do with their mutations… but why would the cold be an issue?

The survivor in you wants to know more. To know if this is something that can be used to your advantage when the time and circumstances are right for a potential escape.

Another part of you… just plain worries.

“I know what I’m doing.” Cassandra says, stern.

“Then you’re doing it alone.” Bela turns to leave…

Except.

“Oh, well. Guess mother should know about that little maid you’ve been orbiting around, lately.” Cassandra comments. “The one you even did a favor for? Just imagine her disappointment in you, the shining example of the family, stooping so low.”

Bela’s back goes rod-straight. The piercing look she sends Cassandra sends ice down your spine. You think she’s going to pounce… yet she exhales.

“One. Hour.” Bela states. “If you’re not back in one hour I’m coming to drag your sorry behind to mother. And she—” A gloved finger points directly to you, “Won’t be coming back with you in one piece.”

Wait.

What?

You didn’t know Cassandra planned to take you with her. But she didn’t deny it when Bela pointed to you. After her sister left, all she said was: ‘Dress well.’

Which brings you to your current position, pacing by the entrance hall of the castle, in a warm coat and two layers of clothes underneath. You turn to look behind when you finally hear her steps descending the staircase.

And— you freeze.

Because Cassandra is not wearing her usual robes. She’s dressed in all black, yes, but the outfit is tight on her form, fitting every curve, hugging her wonderful legs like a second skin. She’s wearing knee-high boots instead of heels and her hooded, gothic overcoat reaches down to mid-thigh.

There’s not a single patch of her skin visible other than her face… and you can’t, for the life of you, explain why it’s that hot.

“You’re staring, plaything.” she chastises, yet doesn’t sound like she minds. Rather, she’s smirking.

“Uh—” you can’t really form words.

“We need to hurry, clock’s ticking.” she says as she jiggles the very key you’ve looked everywhere during work hours for. The key to freedom. To leaving the castle.

Cassandra double-checks her clothes before she opens the door. You file it as useful information for later as you hurry to catch up to her.

The path to the village –or what’s left of it— through the forest is… difficult. Mainly because Cassandra is entirely unbothered by any and all obstacles and moves like she’s on a walkway, leaving you to fight with every rock hidden in the snow.

You manage. Somehow.

Until a distant howl makes you jump and quite literally crash into her side.

Cassandra laughs. It’s a clear, beautiful sound in the dead of night. “My, my. Scared of a Lycan in my presence?”

“I thought it was just a regular wolf!” You whisper, mortified.

Yellow eyes blink at you. Then her gloved hand raises to yours, taking it in a secure grip. You didn’t realize you were shaking, yet the tremors quickly cease when she does that. It’s just your heart that still feels like it’s going to give out on you, but for an entirely different reason, now.

Cassandra safely leads you to the village. It looks more or less the same, except empty, void of life. You don’t linger on memories. You don’t.

“Show me your house.” she says.

You never thought you’d be tracing the steps of your front porch so soon. You only have to push the door for it to open. And the inside is just as you remembered. A quaint little house. It’s simply not… home, anymore.

Nothing is.

Maybe nothing ever was.

And the thought makes a thin, cracked wall inside you finally give. Cassandra is saying something a few paces behind you, but your vision has blurred, your eyes sting and hot, salty rivers roll past your lids.

“Are you listening to me?” she asks. “...Plaything?”

You can’t talk. If you do, you’ll sob and break to pieces on the floor like a pushed glass statue.

Cassandra’s grip is tight and demanding on your elbow when her fingers curl above it, but she turns you with gentleness you’d never think her capable of. You do not meet her eyes.

Her other hand comes up to your neck.

You can’t, you can’t—

“Alexia.”

Your eyes snap to hers when she says it, from the shock. You didn’t think she even knew your name. Cassandra shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then seems to decide on something and wipes the tears beading at your chin away with her thumb.

“Pack what you wish. We don’t have long.”

As you turn into your bedroom and open your wardrobe to pack a few clothes into a bag, just to feel a tad more yourself when you’re in your room in the castle, the sound of your name falling from her lips follows you.

Haunts you.

You have half a mind to get your mp3, phone and chargers before you return to her. Cassandra is holding whatever she wanted to get from the village in a box tucked between her arm and body.

“Come.” she orders. Her hand settles on your elbow again and practically drags you along.

You don’t talk on your way back to the castle.

From one of the many windows overlooking the front yard, you spot Bela’s eyes on the two of you until she retreats into the shadows. Rigidly, Cassandra enters and immediately goes by the large fireplace to warm up. You only then notice how much more fluid her movements get. Or rather, how sluggish she was during the trip.

You shut the door and turn the key and realize it’s much easier to handle your situation when you’re the one locking yourself inside.

You take off your coat and scarf, then make to head for your bedroom —according to your calculations you’ll only get 3 hours of sleep— until… you notice how cold Cassandra looks.

She’s one step away from hugging the flames. And you can still hear her call you by your name in your head.

Great. Another thing to keep me up at night. You think as you approach her.

Slowly, so as to not scare her, you slip your arms around her slim waist from behind. She’s like a block of ice in your embrace, at first. Her body thaws gradually, to the point she’s fully relaxed against you.

“Thank you for today.” the words don’t come easy –they’re like pulling teeth— but you manage to get them out clearly enough.

“You’ll thank me in very many ways, plaything.” she says. “Having your own belongings in the castle is not a privilege any maid gets. But.” her voice, although quiet, hardens the slightest amount. “If, despite my generosity, you harbor dreams of escape… I will turn them to nightmares.”

Your blood goes cold in your veins. You can only nod against her shoulder.

Cassandra turns in your arms to look at you.

“And if you ever try to leave me alone here… I will find you and kill you myself.”

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #fanfiction #because i've read on spoilers of sadness and heartbreak and we all need something soft to take the pain away #cue our fav pillow princess being mega darling to her girl

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k-comfyspace · 3 years

Text

Care

Star: Son Hyejoo (Loona)

Idea: Yes

Love: Hello~i love your works so much, it's so good istg im not even kidding, I hope you have/had a great day though<3 I just want to ask since a hyejoo imagine where fem reader tells her to at least take a rest because she's exhuasted lately bcs she's been pushing herself (literally all of them is, bbc isn't doing anything) also with her knee injury is taking a toll :<< and tells her to take a rest and takes care of her. Fluff pls😭

A/n: Such kind words

Every step they took worried you, each time you would see them flinch, or look down on their knees as they went off stage.

Though, as much as you were concerned about everyone, your eyes were only drawn to one person, following her every move, concerned that any second she could fall. You knew it wasn’t likely, but it didn’t ease your worries when they had finished.

She knelt on the ground, her face stoic, a chic look on her face. Until the camera moved away.

She let her expression drop, closing her eyes as she breathed out deeply. You stood up from your place, walking past the staff to their waiting room. You were the first one in, sitting on the couch as you waited.

When you heard the chatter behind the door, you looked up. You smiled at each one as they entered, congratulating them on their successful performance.

"Everyone did great!" you commented, raising your thumbs while they smiled back,

"Were you really watching us? As far as I could tell, you only had your eyes on one of us," Hyunjin commented, squinting her eyes, teasingly, while the others laughed at the cat's comment.

A light blush spread on your cheeks, punching her playfully on the shoulder before you padded over to your girlfriend.

Hyejoo was seated on the couch, drinking a bottle of water before wiping her sweat. You took a seat on the table in front of her, looking down at her knees as you cringed, seeing the blood trailing down. You clicked your tongue and looked around, seeing a box of tissues behind you.

Reaching for it, you carefully tapped her knee, careful as to not press too hard, while the girl let you. She only moved her knee when you went to rub it slightly,

"It hurts," you heard her mutter, pushing your hand away. Though you held her wrist.

"It’ll be done in a second," you murmured, focused on your task while Hyejoo closed her eyes, absorbing the slight sting that would come once in a while.

When you finished both knees, you sighed, taking both of her hands in yours. You knew it brought the girl comfort, even though the countless times she pretended to hate the skinship, you could read her eyes easily to know when she needed it.

Right now, you could see the way her eyes softened, feeling her squeeze your hands, a breath escaping her lips as she closed her eyes for a moment.

It was almost as if you two only existed in the room. Thankfully, her members weren’t in the mood for teasing as they busied themselves with packing and changing.

They could see both of you, discreet smiles on their faces, but they let you two have your time knowing that you’ve spent far too long being apart.

"You have to take it easy, Hyejoo," you whispered after a while, rubbing circles on the back of her palms, the latter furrowing her eyebrows at the comment.

"I’m fine,"

She reasoned, a sigh withdrawing from your lips as you looked at her. Who could she fool?

The dark circles under her eyes, the way her voice was getting raspier, and the sluggish movements she would make when both of you got home.

It was all a sign that she was getting tired and, while she would continue to utter that she was fine, everything else proved her otherwise.

"Hyejoo," you started, but she sighed before you could say anything further,

"Y/n, I’m fine, it’s only a few more days till we’re done. I promise as soon as we are done promoting, I’ll rest,"

You stared at her for a while, looking into her eyes, you knew she was stubborn. Oftentimes, it was the reason why you wanted to take care of her, the way she wouldn’t stop for anything.

Though, as much as she wanted to keep going, you also saw the tiredness in her eyes, so with a sigh, you nodded.

Pulling her as you left a kiss on her forehead, giving her one more squeeze before letting your girlfriend change.

When Hyejoo left the room, a sigh escaped your lips before meeting their leader’s eyes. Haseul looked at you with a smile, having seen the exchange between her member.

It made her happy, knowing that someone else could take care of her friend like she does and more. She always relied on you to make Hyejoo happy. Though she had no issues in that regard, the older girl was glad that you could make her happier.

As long as Hyejoo was in your hands, she had nothing to worry about.

Soon enough, a week had already gone by. The girls had finished promoting, which meant that it was time for them to get the rest that they needed.

Hyejoo was at the dorms, packing her things since she decided that she would want to spend some time with you during their break.

Her members had no qualms about it since most of them had no plans, and they could always come to visit if they wanted to.

You adjusted your glasses, as you continued your work in your room when the door opened. You raised your head at the intruder, knowing that you didn’t have anyone over. When you saw the familiar brown hair, you stood up with a smile.

You padded towards Hyejoo and opened your arms, which your girlfriend didn’t refuse. Entering your embrace as she reveled in your warmth, resting her head on your chest, she sighed.

Feeling your arms circling her body. You closed your eyes, letting the silence settle as you left a kiss on her forehead, resting your cheek on top of her head. Both of you stood there for a while, no words exchanged.

Hyejoo was unmoving, sighing whilst she felt you rub her back. Even if both of you were the same height, she felt so small in your arms.

The way you would occasionally leave kisses on her forehead when you whisper sweet nothings, and the warmth you would give her every time you cuddle.

You kept her in your arms before you took a step to the right, then the left. Alternate steps, since Hyejoo had her eyes closed, she thought you brought her to your bed. But after a few minutes, she heard you hum quietly as you continued slowly swaying side-to-side.

Another breath left her lips, everything felt so satisfying

By the end of the day, she was able to come to you when she sought comfort, happiness, and someone to support her. You will always be the most amazing girlfriend ever, she couldn’t put into words how much you mean to her.

She would always feel bad that you were the only one to make sacrifices, but each time she felt that way, you would always say the same thing.

Cupping her cheek and staring into her eyes, "I love you now, I’ll love you tomorrow, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life."

It always successfully flustered her, a bright tinge of pink on her cheeks, which only seemed to grow when you smiled at her.

"I didn’t notice you came in," you whispered, withdrawing from her partially, still keeping your arms around her hips.

"Are you busy with work?" she asked, a look forming in her eyes, but you were quick to stop her, placing a finger on her nose, taking her attention from her thoughts.

"I can go to work later, I’m almost done. We can rest for a while," you said, Hyejoo sighing since she couldn’t stop you. Sometimes both of you were alike, completely stubborn.

You led her to bed, both of you moving to your sides before meeting in the middle. You rested your back against the headboard, while Hyejoo leaned against your chest, playing around with your hair as both of you let the silence set in.

A few minutes later, you heard a yawn, looking down at your girlfriend, you met her eyes. She rested her chin on your chest as she looked back at you.

"Do you want to sleep?" You asked, seeing the nod, you caressed her head, leaving another kiss on her forehead.

"You can rest," you told her, but Hyejoo shook her head, seeing the furrow in her eyebrows before she smiled, reaching up to remove your glasses, folding them, and placing them on her nightstand.

"Nap with me," you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face, shifting down to lay on the bed, your girlfriend taking her place in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck, half of her body on top of yours.

It was these kinds of moments that made you happy. Even through every challenge you two faced together, you were happy that there was always a good ending.

Rewarding moments where both of you did nothing except bask in each other, it almost felt better to spend a long time apart, that way, when you two come together again, you can cherish it more.

Bright lights shone in her eyes, a groan slipping past her lips as she opened them.

Hyejoo adjusted her vision, waking up as she took in her surroundings. She took note of the dark ceiling, matching the small stars that were littered all over, acting as the night sky as some of them sparkled because of the sun.

She turned to the side, seeing you sleeping peacefully. Throughout the night, you moved in your sleep, turning to your side as you faced the girl.

Hyejoo took the time to observe your features, from your soft brown hair to your eyes, your cute button nose and your pink lips. It baffled her sometimes that you always thought she was the prettiest.

But it was always you that she thought was the prettiest in the world. No word could describe you, no number could rate you, and no one could ever compare to you.

As subtle as she could, Hyejoo raised her hand, shuffling it under yours before interlocking your fingers. A smile formed on her lips when she felt you squeeze her unconsciously. She placed a kiss on the back of your hand, putting all the love and gratitude she could ever give.

A few minutes later, she felt you shift, opening your eyes as you met hers. A smile forms on your lips, the smile she never knew she would be addicted to.

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #loona #loona imagines #loona scenarios #loona hyejoo #hyejoo #son hyejoo #hyejoo imagines #hyejoo scenarios #olivia hye #loona olivia hye #olivia hye imagines #olivia hye scenarios

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Text

•Porcelain Obsession•

Summary: Tamaki has a problem, a bad problem. He's obsessed, he's desperate, and he'll do whatever it takes to have you the way he wants you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Yandere Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, noncon voyeurism, mild manipulation and sabotage, mild coercive behavior, male masturbation, panty theft, male ejaculation, cum eating. It's just real graphic, strap in.

A/N: I am hopeless, this will have a second part that will be so much more sinful with gratuitous tentacle content. Just tagged those that interacted with the posted about this fic as usual. This little series was inspire by a tiktok I saw, and I'm literally writing it for the sake of putting one zinger of line in it lol.

Playlist

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJbubhQN/

Word Count: 4,184

Part Two: Love Me Tender

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Stunning, astounding, enchanting. You're an angel, you have to be. That's the only explanation for the way you shine, surrounded by some ethereal glow.

Tamaki Amajiki has a problem. No, it's not a problem, it's completely normal to fall in love, he's under a spell. He can't be blamed for it, he never stood a chance. Although, most people would call this a problem, but only people who don't understand.

An ignorant person would have seen him watching you from around the corner for weeks, following you to your house after work under the cover of darkness, and finally, finally getting a glance into your window at night and label him as obsessed or disturbed. He should have felt dirty for that, but he didn't, not even close. He felt almost holy.

He felt like some chosen follower that was allowed to witness a sacred ritual. He watched you all evening with immeasurable reverence. He took note of the way you ate, how intently you read, but his favorite part was watching you settle into your bed and fall asleep.

As soon as he saw it the first time, it became an addiction. Watching your body curl around your pillow, clutching the fabric as you snuggled into it. How sweet you looked, so soft, so innocent. It made his chest ache, it made him feel starved. He had to have you, smell you, feel you.

That was nearly three months ago. Now, he watches you every chance he gets. The days he doesn't get to, he feels like a pitiful addict going through withdrawal. He has to at least speak with you, know your voice, see your skin up close.

During his patrol around the city he comes to the conclusion that it has to be today. He feels like he's losing breath without knowing you, captured by your existence but suffocated by the distance. He will have you, he will do whatever it takes.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

At your age, you should at least have a friend or two, maybe go out on friday, possibly even work another job. None of that ever seems worth it, not worth the time or the money or the effort to pretend you enjoy it. Here you stay, stuck somewhere in between discontent for your situation and the refusal to do anything about it.

You only have a half hour left of your shift, everyone else has gone home and you’ve been left to do dishes and lock up, as usual. You huff and puff around the shop as you complete the final closing tasks. Anybody else could have stayed and closed, they probably should have too, considering how often you shut down by yourself so they can all go home.

Naturally, you jumped at the opportunity to stay late, where else are you going to go? Certainly not on a date or out with friends. You feel slightly better about making money while you burn the hours away, so you always end up here.

The sun has set already, leaving the illumination of the shop to the awful fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s all so mundane, so simple, so dreadfully boring.

Then the bell above the door jingles.

You roll your eyes and throw your rag into the sink, the sign says closed. Why don’t people read? You huff out of the kitchen and into the serving area.

“Hey, sorry but we’re closed right now, we open again tomorrow-” You freeze, it can’t be him, it has to be some cosplayer, some wannabe.

“I’m sorry, I just- my phone died while I was on patrol and I needed to call my boss to let them know I was finished for the day. I was hoping there would be a phone in here that I could use.” His voice is so timid, so unsteady. It doesn’t sound anything like you would imagine the voice of a pro hero to sound.

You try to stay uninvolved with any hero business, all of the flashy quirks and the gossip and the drama. The theater of it bores you to tears, and you lack respect for anyone that uses their ability to save lives as a tool for gaining popularity. You find most heroes to be so incredibly irritating. Most of them, except one.

Suneater, the emerging pro hero that has been the focus of all of your thoughts lately. You've only seen glimpses of him in the news, seen his face on the back page of a magazine, or heard his name from other people. Any evidence of his existence rapidly became precious to you. You are not some hopeless fangirl, you do not collect merchandise or follow him around and beg for autographs.

You admire him, his subtlety, how genuinely different he is from all the other heroes. He isn’t some attention whore, he isn’t some pretty boy that’s always posing for fan service. His quirk is so unique and powerful, unparalleled by any hero on the charts right now. He’s a real hero, and so much of you wanted him to be your hero.

There he stands, right in front of you, in your shop, asking you for help. He’s far more beautiful than you could have possibly anticipated. He’s all porcelain skin and inky hair, deep indigo eyes pear out from under his magnificent hood. He stands so tall, yet comes across so reserved. He’s spectacular, he’s an angel, he has to be.

“Of- of course, it’s in the back, follow me.” You say, motioning for him to come around the corner with you as you tuck back into the kitchen.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you.” He says as he follows, cape swishing behind him as he moves. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know, how badly he wants to take you into his arms and finally know what your body feels like against his, how he wants to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. If he could get away with it, he would, oh how he would feel every inch of you. He can’t though, not yet. He has to be careful, he has to be smart.

I will have her, and she’ll have me.

“It’s no problem, it sucks to be stuck without a phone. I’m happy to help.” You say as you round the corner to your shop’s makeshift break room.

It’s not even a room really, just a corner tucked away with a phone on the wall and a few chairs around a cheap foldable table.

You turn to him and motion to the phone awkwardly, heat settling in your chest and all over your skin. Your heart races and you can feel your palms turning wet.

“Take as much time as you need, did you uh- are you hungry?” You ask, “I’m technically closed, but I can only imagine how hungry you are after a whole day patrolling, I could throw something together for you?”

God, you’re so sweet.

“Oh no, you d-don’t need to do that, I can eat at home.” He insists, your mind fixates on the way he stutters, the way his eyes dart down and his feet shift as he talks.

“I would like to. Please? If you’ll let me?” You say softly, heart pounding even faster when he shifts towards you slightly.

How perfect you are, already asking for permission…

“Are you sure, I really don’t want to create more work for you.” He says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His gaze makes it hard to swallow, he looks at you so intently, you almost feel like you don’t have enough clothing on.

“No! I promise you won’t be. You’d also be missing out on the best takoyaki around if you didn’t let me, and that would be a tragedy.” You say, trying to entice him with your bold claim.

“Well I g-guess, if you put it that way.” He offers you a trace of a smile.

“I’ll get started while you make your call.” You say as you move to squeeze past him in the narrow hall. As you slide by, there’s a brief, precious moment where you stand inches from each other. You don’t dare look up at him as you skate by, You know your legs will fail you if you meet his eyes while standing so close, and you can’t risk the embarrassment of dropping to your knees in front of a stranger, even if he is a hero,

He doesn’t say a word, simple stalks towards the phone as you glide down the rest of the hallway and into the kitchen.

You slip into autopilot in the kitchen, your brain is far too fixated on the fact that Suneater is down the hall, in your shop, using your phone. You clink around some pans, prepare the octopus meat and the batter and get to work. You can’t overhear him talking to anyone with all the noise you’re making, you almost want to apologize for being so noisy.

Your mind settles on thinking about how beautiful he is, how strong he looks, how easily he could overpower anyone… especially you. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, it shouldn’t, but holy hell it does.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him come into the kitchen, you immediately start to berate yourself for thinking that way about him. He’s a hero, he would never be interested in something like that with someone like you.

“I think the phone is down, do you maybe have a- a cell phone i could use?” He seems almost ashamed of the question, it makes your chest ache.

“Shit, that line is always being funny. I’m sorry, but I left my cell this morning.” You say, flipping the takoyaki around in their tray so they’ll cook evenly.

“I live just across the street though, I can run and grab it while you eat.” You say, desperate to help him in any way you can.

I know you’re just across the street.

He just shakes his head and bunches his cape in his fists, a very faint blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes your heart do summersaults.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing t-too much for me. You don’t need to make the extra t-trip, I can just call my boss when I’m home”

“Really, it’s not too much, if you’re worried about the extra trip you can just walk me home and use it when we get there. I imagine you would need to call as quickly as possible and get somebody on patrol now that you’re off.” You say, catching yourself a little when you sound too desperate.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” As he talks, he shuffles so he can press himself up into the corner of the kitchen, almost looking like he wants to melt into the wall.

“Well, considering your occupation is literally saving people, I definitely don’t feel uncomfortable, it’s not like you’re some crazy kidnapper.” You chuckle a little as you plate up the takoyaki. You try not to give attention to the twisted thoughts that enter your mind when you mention the kidnapping, pushing down the desire to be taken away from the colorless life you live.

If you only knew how badly I want to take you, to have you, keep you…

“I guess you have a p-point.” He says, taking the plate with a soft thank you. He starts stuffing his face with the spheres of breaded octopus immediately, letting a small content sigh leave his body.

“This is incredible, thank you, um, can I ask what your n-name is?” That damn stutter is going to turn your bones to jelly.

You say your name quietly, he responds by repeating it back to you, like he’s checking the pronunciation. You just nod as you open the fridge and pull out a gallon of green tea so you can pour him a glass.

“T-Tamaki, my name’s Tamaki Amajiki.” He says with his shy voice.

A warm, invasive feeling spreads through you. You have to remain calm, pretend that his real name is news to you, pretend that you haven’t spent hours searching through fanfictions listed under that name.

You chat as he finishes his food, thanking him as he mumbles compliments about you cooking in between bites. It doesn’t take long for him to take down the plate. He thanks you over and over as you clean the rest up. He stays glued to his spot in the corner until you take your apron off and hang it on the rack with the others.

“Alright, let’s get you to that phone.” You say as you grab your keys off the hook and switch the lights off.

When you turn to look at him the breath is stolen from your lungs immediately. He looks so celestial in the dark, somehow glowing in the dark. He’s stunning, he’s perfect, he’s painfully out of your league. You remind yourself of that last fact in order to still your nerves.

You turn on your heels and walk towards the door as quickly as you can without seeming rushed. He follows silently, the heavy sound of his thick cloak floating around him makes the hair on your neck stand up. He even sounds powerful.

After you exit the building, he stands with his back to you as you lock the door. His stance is protective, surveying the streets around you like a real hero. You can’t let it go to your head, it’s not for you specifically, he would do this for anyone, it’s his job.

The walk to your house isn’t really uncomfortable, but it is tense. The energy between you is painfully obvious, just not to each other. You both want to speak, ask about each other, know each other, but neither has the guts to make the first move.

While you walk, Tamaki’s head is constantly on a swivel, and he stays so very close to you. It makes your chest ache, the feeling of being so safe next to such an intimidating man. Nobody would dare approach you with him next to you. You would damn near kill to have this all the time, if not all the time at least as often as possible.

You arrive at your house after not even two minutes of tension filled strolling. Silently, cautiously, you both enter your home after you unlock the door.

"It's so cozy." Tamaki says immediately upon seeing all of the soft lights and pastels that make up your decor. He’s nearly trembling with excitement from finally being able to see inside your little world. After watching from the outside for so long, he can finally learn more about you.

"Oh, thanks, I try to keep it soft looking in here. It helps me decompress after a day at a busy restaurant." You explain, setting your keys in their dish before leading him down the hallway to the kitchen.

The house is nothing special, a simple little single bedroom, one story with a relatively open floor plan. It’s small but easy to afford and keep clean. It works for you.

“I’ll go grab the phone from my room, feel free to sit down.” You say, gesturing at the two chairs on either side of your tiny breakfast nook.

He just nods quietly, taking small glances around the rest of your house. You find his hypervigilance charming. It makes you feel incredibly secure to know he’s so aware of his surroundings.

You walk off to your bedroom then, leaving him to stand in your dimly lit kitchen.

Instantly, his eyes zero in on the laundry basket full of clothes that’s sitting on your counter. His body moves without his mind’s permission, his heart thrums in his chest once he catches something pink and lacy.

He can’t help but think you’ve done it on purpose, like you’re some spider sitting up in your web waiting for a poor little bug to stumble along and get all caught up. He’s more than willing to be that bug, and so desperate to get caught up.

He grabs the fabric quickly, as it unravels in his hands he sees what it is and his breathing stops.

It’s a pair of underwear, your underwear.

His fingers go all twitchy as he shoves his hood off to expose his pointed ears, wanting to be able to hear your footsteps.

He brings the panties and takes a deep breath in.

They’re not clean.

He has to choke back the noise that threatens to escape when he finally smells the intoxicating aroma. You smell so fucking sweet. His body reacts instantaneously, goosebumps raise on his flesh as he’s dick twitches in his pants.

God he feels dirty, but why should he? You lead him in here, after cooking for him and being so kind. You left this little gift out for him, you had to know what you were doing.

The sound of soft footsteps jolts him back to reality. He shoves the underwear deep into one of his pockets, he’ll keep them as long as he can, preferably forever.

“Sorry it took me a minute, I’m constantly misplacing everything. One of those ‘lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me’ kind of people.” You give a half hearted laugh, which he returns with a cute little chuckle as he takes your phone.

“Oh sorry about the laundry, I’m a bit of a mess today.” Hot embarrassment fills you as you grab the basket of dirty clothes off the counter and hoist it onto your hip.

“Don’t be sorry, you weren’t expecting any visitors.” He assures you, voice soft and soothing.

“I’ll run this to my room and give you some privacy.” You say, turning once again to leave him alone.

As soon as you’re out of the room his shoulders drop and he lets out a quaking breath. Having you so close after filling his mind with your smell pushed him to the very limit. He wants to grab you and lay you out on the counter, rip your pants off and shove his face between your thighs. He wants to drown in every smell and taste you can offer him. He wants to gorge himself on your sweet little cunt.

He can’t think straight. He’s fully hard, his skin is boiling and his mind is fuzzy. He has to get out of here, he has to get to somewhere hidden, Somewhere he can fuck his fist and think of playing with your soft body. Maybe, just maybe, if he stuffs your panties in his mouth he can taste a trace of you.

When you return he says a very quick goodbye, says something about stopping by your shop again so he can see you again. He doesn’t know for sure what words he uses, he’s too focused on getting out before you notice his erection, before you smell the shame wafting off of him in thick waves.

He has to go before he makes a mistake, before he ruins all of his plans.

You follow him to the door to let him out, bidding him goodnight with your gentle, enchanting voice.

You’ll never know that the phone at the restaurant worked fine, that he never even had to call Fatgum. You’ll never know that he stole from you, that he almost lost it and took you home with him. You won’t ever know that he’s not going home now that he’s left your home.

Urgently, he swoops around the corner of your house, heading straight for your bedroom window. His pants feel so tight it’s maddening, he’s frantic, he’s slipping.

As soon as he reaches the bedroom window, his favorite window, he slumps against the building with one arm as the other shoots down to his pants. He takes a quick glance around, noting that the lights in the surrounding buildings are all out given the hour.

He should be safe.

Then you walk into your room, the image of you is distorted slightly by the white sheers you have up, but only slightly, only enough to make you look like some fuzzy apparition.

She uses these curtains on purpose, she wants me to see.

You have no interest in showering tonight, now exhausted and confused. Did you say something wrong? Why did he take off like that? He did say he would see you tomorrow, though, which gives you a bubbly feeling.

You strip your clothes off, and it shreds Tamaki’s last ounce of self control.

You little fucking tease.

You undress until you’re left in your simple white underwear.

Tamaki’s hand is in his pants the second you crawl into bed. He grabs his aching length, thumbing at his head as he watches you shuffle around in the blankets. His mouth waters when he sees your collar bones, his breath hitches when he sees the way your stomach rolls when you sit. He starts to stroke himself slowly when you leave one leg out of your blankets.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he remembers the precious gift in his pocket.

He snatches the panties out as he watches you move, as he zeroes in on the meat of your thigh. He shoves the fabric of the crotch into his mouth and bites. He bites your panties like he wants to bite your delicious looking legs.

His hand jerks more rapidly as the faintest flavor spreads across his tongue. His cheeks are pink and his eyes start to tear up as he trembles from the euphoria of knowing you this intimately. His hips thrust into his fist as he claws at the panites, pulling the fabric tight as he watches you drift off to sleep.

His mind races through every possible way he would take you. How he would ruin and claim every inch of you. The idea of you shaking beneath him, moaning his name so sweetly, begging him to keep going, maybe begging him to stop, it makes him want to break down the window.

He tongues at your panties, wishing he could swallow your slick. He feels so unbelievably envious of the fact that the fabric in his mouth has been so close to your perfect little hole. The thing he wants to taste the most, feel the most, fuck the most.

His hand tightens around his dick as he tries to imagine how tight you would feel around him. He rips your panties out for just a brief second so he can spit down into his palm, wrapping it around his cock the second the spit reaches his skin.

“Shit- fuck- shit- fucking love you.” He chokes out as his eyes stay locked on your body.

Once the panties are back in his mouth, the free hand flattens against the window.

Then you shift, hips rolling gently as you adjust your position, exposing your cute little ass to him.

“Slut- bad little slut.” He huffs out as he claws at the window. He feels his balls start to seize up as he focuses on his swollen head, fucking it as fast as he can whle he imagines you with your head buried in the pillows as you stick your ass in the air for him.

He tears the panties out of his mouth and holds the crotch of them in front of his dick, drool slips over his bottom lip as he lets out a high, broken moan while he starts to spill into them.

His body quakes and shivers as he squirts rope after rope of hot cum into his stolen prize. Tears wet his cheeks while drool soaks his chin as he strokes himself through his climax.

He chants your name over and over again, watching the way his seed ruins your pretty little panties. In his orgasmic haze, he brings the panties back to his mouth full of his own release, he laps it up as he eyes roll to the back of his head, pretending he’s made you cream yourself, pretending he’s tasting you instead.

It’s filthy, it’s depraved, but he doesn’t care, he needs it, he’d die without it. He swallows the rest of his own cum down with a greedy whine as he watches your perfect form lay there so peacefully.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, how many more times he fucks his hand while he watches you sleep, only to leave himself covered in sweat and cum and shame. Somehow, he finds himself walking away, as much as it hurts, he knows he can't indulge himself all night.

Once he’s finally home, he collapses, body buzzing and addicted. He sleeps with your soiled panties clutched in his fist. He wakes up with one thought on his mind, he needs more.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki smut #amajiki tamaki #mha smut #my hero smut #suneater #suneater smut #mha suneater #my hero academia smut #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha suneater #tamaki x reader #tamaki headcanons #mha tamaki #tentacles #big three #fatgum

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maybe-theres-hope · 3 years

Text

Those Four Words

So yeah I JUST finished Desperate Measures and I literally had to get this out before I could sleep.

5.03 Coda | 1.6k | Summary: How I would love to see them get their shit together. Title from the episode, referring to Eddie saying “We need to talk” because YES YOU FUCKING DO. *puts on clown nose*

Buck finds Eddie sulking on the bench in the locker room. Because this was becoming a pretty common occurrence as of late, he takes it on himself to do the best friend thing he always does, and walks in to sit beside him.

The fact that Eddie doesn’t automatically look up at him with annoyance--like he has most of the time Buck has done this in the past few weeks, when they both know what the conversation is going to sound like--is unsettling but not off-putting.

“Hey,” is his opener. Quiet and courteous of Eddie’s obvious pain. Buck’s good at this best friend thing. Had a lot of practice lately.

He gets nothing in reply for long, long moments. He waits it out. Eddie’s a closed-off guy at the best of times, but when he’s hurting, it’s like a steel wall is up between him and the world. Buck’s taken a sledgehammer to that wall a few times and it hasn’t ended pretty. Lately he’s been just simply knocking at it, hoping the man on the other side can hear that he’s not alone. That’s all he can do.

Then, “I broke up with Ana. Like. Officially.”

Buck is quiet for a moment. “Was there an...unofficial breakup before that?”

“I don’t know. Probably when I panicked twice in front of her at the mere mention of us as a family. Think that set off a few warning bells in her.”

Buck very carefully remains silent.

“Well, actually. I don’t know if it did because...she was pretty devastated when I told her it wasn’t going to work. Like she didn’t see it coming after all.”

“What did you tell her? At the official breakup, I mean.” Buck doesn’t move, doesn’t speak above a low tone that barely breaches the two-foot divide between them.

“Not the truth, that’s for damn sure. But. Something maybe close to it.” Eddie still hasn’t looked at him. His hand is half-over his eyes, fingers pressing at his temples like he’s trying to stave off a migraine. Buck’s presence is sometimes migraine inducing, he knows, but he doesn’t think he’s ever done it to Eddie.

...Maybe?

Nah.

Hopefully not.

“What’s...something like the truth?” he asks.

“Basically that I thought I could grow to love her eventually. I tried hard to do that, but...it’s never going to happen. I know it’s not.”

Buck remains silent, waiting.

“She...she’s not stupid. She figured out that what was sending me into...whatever was happening to me--”

Buck very pointedly does not point out that what was happening were full blown panic attacks, Eddie--

“--was triggered by the thought of a future with her. It’s not even that she’s a bad prospect. She’s perfect, actually. In every way except that she’s not... Nevermind.”

“So, she was good with Christopher, right? I mean, you said she was--” Buck’s concern is hard to hide. If she did anything to hurt Christopher or make him feel...any type of way, Buck will be livid. But he doesn't think that’s the case. He even likes Ana. She’s nice, friendly, caring. She’s just...

“She’s just not for me.”

Buck can clearly see this is distressing Eddie to the nth degree, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s never had to save a relationship before. And is that what he should be doing? Sure, he’s great at this best friend thing and he wants his friend to be happy--more than anything in the world--but he’s at a loss as to what the actual problem is here.

“But Eddie, you said yourself she’d make a great mother for Chr--”

“He doesn’t need another mother! He had one, and she’s gone. He doesn’t need another.” The raised voice makes Buck pause for a moment. It’s the loudest either of them have spoken the entire time, and he’s sure it has a lot to do with the Shannon of it all, but...it doesn’t seem like that’s the whole thing.

“I don’t know why I tried to force it. I knew it wasn’t going to work from day one. But she’s just...she was the best alternative.”

“Alternative to what? Eddie, what--”

“I’m in love with someone else! Okay? And I know I should have told her that, but I couldn’t. I can’t even...” he cuts himself off with a huff, but for the first time, he looks up to meet Buck’s gaze. His eyes are shining, but he’s not sad. He’s frustrated. Buck’s learned to tell the difference over the years.

Best friend and all.

He weighs his options, because this is brand new information to him, which is saying something, and he’s not quite sure where to go from here.

Sure, he absolutely knows where he wants this to go, but. He’s also learned over the years that that’s just...not in the cards. Not for Buck, anyway.

Finally, he opens his mouth again. “I...didn’t know you were seeing anyone else besides Ana. Thought you two were, like, a serious thing.” Understatement of the year. How on earth was Eddie seeing someone that Buck didn’t know about? They practically lived out of each other’s pockets half the time.

Eddie huffs out a small, horrible laugh. “I’m not. Seeing anyone. In that sense, anyway. Though we do see a lot of each other. A disgusting amount, if I’m being honest.” The laugh he lets out here is not horrible. It’s almost...fond.

“O...kay.” Somewhere inside, Buck’s heart falters. “So, what’s the problem? Do they...not feel the same way?”

Another huff of a laugh. “Dunno. I never asked.” Eddie’s back to rubbing his temples again, almost hiding his face on purpose.

“Alright, well, that should probably be step one.” Buck can’t keep the hint of scolding out of his tone, but he can see that it makes Eddie smile. “I can help you, if you want?”

This makes Eddie smile even wider, but it turns sad in an instant. “I know you would. But you can’t.”

Buck takes a moment--or several--to consider himself. To weigh all his options and arrive at a logical and sensible conclusion.

Who is he kidding? Buck opens his mouth on impulse, praying to every deity he’s ever heard of that he’s not wrong and he’s not about to ruin everything.

“I can try.” Another small laugh from Eddie in response, a hopeless, resigned one. “Eddie.” When he gets no reaction, he tries again. He really needs eye contact for this, no matter how much he knows Eddie hates it during emotional conversations. “Eddie.”

Slowly, Eddie’s eyes meet his. Buck goes for broke.

“Step one. Ask.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, no discernible change in his features. Buck’s eyes plead with him. And then, it’s like Buck can watch the switch flip behind his eyes. When he catches up to what’s being said here.

Buck holds his breath for what feels like ages and feels his skin grow cold with shame because he was wrong, he was wrong, he was so so wrong--

“Are--” Eddie begins, strained. Buck’s heart stops. “Are we--” Buck’s sure his heart can’t actually stop twice, but it definitely does at this addition.

His eyes are glued to Eddie’s, though. Like magnets. Pulling in the only direction they can ever go. The way the universe wills them.

Eddie seems to come back to himself for a moment, flicking his eyes to the glass. Buck’s eyes tear themselves away to look at what’s caught his attention. The entire B shift and some of the A are still milling around outside.

“Are we really going to do this here?” is the question Eddie actually poses to him. But, when Buck’s eyes snap back to their target, he sees something that kickstarts his heart again, and he lets out the breath he’d been deliberately holding for the last 45 seconds, give or take. Eddie’s tiny, timid smile seals the deal.

“We could go to my place?” Buck offers. Tries desperately not to think about what could happen. What he wants to happen.

“I need to get home to Christopher.” Eddie’s standing, grabbing his duffel. Buck’s nodding, because yeah, that’s true. He scrubs his mind of the...thoughts that were just playing through it.

“And so do you,” is what’s tacked onto the end, just thrown out there, like it’s the most normal, logical thing in the world. Eddie’s face is still a little timid when Buck looks up, but his own face must give away his heart because Eddie’s smile after that is radiant. He hands Buck his own bag, also giving him a hand up off the bench.

Yeah, his legs are a little wobbly. Good best friend actions, Eddie. Thanks.

Though. Buck doesn’t know if that term still applies. Are they friends? Are they more now? But they haven’t talked about anything so, like, they’re not anything yet, right? But Eddie said he was in love with--

His thoughts halt when Eddie lands a small kiss to his lips, there and gone again in a nanosecond and wow, that had no right to be as earth-shattering as it was, it was just a peck, for Christ’s sake, and--

“Buck. Get your shit and lets go, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Yeah.” Smooth.

But Eddie’s smiling. For real this time. Buck will take that.

lbr, the show wouldn’t acknowledge Taylor during this conversation. It’d be wrapped up the next episode and she would storm out and never be heard from again. Definitely NOT how I’d want that to go, but. We all know it would. *honks clown nose*

#buddie #buddie fic #911 on fox #911 fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #MY FIRST BUDDIE FIC PLS BE KIND #brooke writes

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

Text

[15.08] badboy!seonghwa × reader

⇀ had you known that's why he confessed, would you have accepted him ? Or smack his annoyingly perfect face with your laptop ?

⇁ part 1 / 2

⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3

Things had gone great between you and Seonghwa. You and he would often meet at your dorm or at the diner at least three times a week.

You'd ask him why you both never hung at his dorm but his answer was that he doesn't want the boys to disturb your 'quality time'.

Normally you'd question answers like that, but the way he looks at you and holds your hand made you forget why you even wanna ask that in the first place.

But like all things, everything dissipates with time.

Nearing the end of the semester, group projects lessen and solo assignments accumulate which put a strain between your and Seonghwa's hangout time. You've tried convincing him that you both can hang out whilst doing your solo assignments but you remembered how his eyes trailed after a girl as you spoke at one of your last hangouts at the diner.

Seems like he's lost interest in you too.

Which, it sure hurts, but you both were never official and neither had verbally confirmed to the other about their feelings. It sucks.

But you power through.

You pretend that his silence during class's group discussion didn't affect you, you pretend that when he immediately pack up his stuff to leave the class and only throwing you a polite smile didn't make your heart wrench, you pretend that him ghosting you didn't make you feel both embarrassed and angry at the same time.

You're light and breezy.

Heck, you're so light and breezy, you still go to that diner every Friday all alone. And it's not because you had hoped to see one particular man.

Even though you did.

When he was on a date with some girl who's obviously very pretty.

On the booth you both had 'claimed' as 'your booth' without ever verbally saying it.

"Hi, excuse me," a voice broke your train of thoughts.

You look up from your book to see a really handsome man standing in front of you with a smile on his face. He looks very handsome, definitely mixed-race, and he has this chill aura on him that is honestly refreshing to you.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I sit here?" He asked. You look around to see that there are a lot of other places left in the library where he could've sat.

Sensing your apprehension, the man raised both of his hands, "I'm not a creep or a weirdo, I'm just very particular about where I work,"

He's got a point. So you just nodded, "sure, it's not my table or anything anyways, you could've just taken a seat without asking my permission," he shrugged as he put his things across you, "I mean sure, but you seemed like you don't wanna be bothered and this particular spot has the best walking distance to anywhere at all and plus the secret charging port? Genius," he said, grinning proudly.

You raised your eyebrows at him, "you seem to know your way around the table, mister..." you trailed off to which he immediately caught on, "Hansol, Choi Hansol, but my friends calls me Vernon," he held his hand out for you to shake, "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and why Vernon?" "My english name, I'm half American,"

And with that, you got yourself a new friend.

Vernon is a computer science major, and the other thing major about him is his nerdiness. And his hotness. Which is a ridiculous combination.

Ever since that day in the library, you both somehow find the other popping up everywhere. Just a day after your first meeting in the library, he came into the café you part-timed at. He came in to order 13 drinks and several pastries, shocking you at first but then he told you he lives in a frat house with 12 other guys and that he's not a caffeine addict.

Then you both bonded over the many sessions in the library which eventually venture out to sitting together during lunch, and then suddenly you both started meeting outside campus.

And this did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa.

"Hey, Seonghwa, how well do you know (Y/N)?" Hongjoong asked, breaking Seonghwa's glare on you and Vernon from all the way across the cafeteria.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, "(Y/N) from my statistics class?" As if he hadn't considered you as something more at some point, "I'd say well enough as a groupmate, why?" He asked back.

Hongjoong nodded towards you and Vernon with his chin, "Vernon there saw you both working together and he wants to make sure he won't be stepping on anyone's toes when he's making a move on her,"

At that moment, Seonghwa almost choked on his fries. Too surprised with the fact that you've possibly moved on from him so quickly.

It's only been a month and a half since you both stopped hanging out outside of obligation.

Hearing that made his blood boil and he's pretty sure it's not jealousy. Most likely territorialism. HE took interest in you first waaaaay before Vernon did.

The smile and laugh you give Vernon was supposed to be for him. He used to make you laugh so hard at any stupid pun he concocted in his head. No matter how stupid it is nor how much it doesn't make any sense.

To be completely honest, he didn't know why he pulled away from you in the first place. He had been so comfortable with you, never once had he ever let his guard down and just be carefree, not even with his closest friends.

He needs to get you back to him.

No matter what.

So he made his move the next time you both had statistics again.

Unlucky for him though, the professor decided to not have any group discussion that day which threw Seonghwa's plan out the window. But thankfully he still remembered your schedule, you don't have any class after statistics which means you'd be grabbing a simple lunch before your part-time job starts until 8 pm.

So he waited patiently for the bell to ring.

Legs bouncing in anticipation as his eyes flit towards the clock every five minutes.

When the professor finally dismissed the class (10 minutes later than he's supposed to, as per usual), he immediately put all his belongings back in his bag and ran after you. Somehow you've mastered the art of cleaning up quickly over the month and a half without him.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Seonghwa called.

You stopped in your tracks and turn your head to see Seonghwa jogging towards you with that stupid, charming smile on his face.

Damn his good looks.

"Yeah? Is there something wrong?" you asked him when he caught up to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused as to why you'd think there'd be anything wrong.

"Ah!" you suddenly exclaimed, "Is this about my part of the presentation? Don't worry, I'm close to finishing it, I should be able to compile it in the PPT tonight by... 9.30-ish? I have to finish my shift at the café," you explained.

He chuckled at you, deep voice that you oh so missed ringing in your ears, "wha- no, (Y/N), I'm not here to talk about our project, I just wanna... talk with you," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. It somehow made him look both hot and cute at the same time. Which doesn't make sense.

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him while crossing your arms, "why? No offence, Seonghwa, but you've kinda been blowing me off for the past month and a half now, what makes you think I'd have anything to talk with you about?"

Those words coming out of your mouth shocked him. It's not like he didn't expect some apprehension from you, but hostility? Boy, you must've been really affected by his shitty doings.

"I-I- no, (Y/N), I haven't been blowing you off," bullshit, even he knows that, "I've just been really-" "really... what? Absent? Ghosty? Hot and cold? Whatever it is, Seonghwa, you don't owe me any explanation," you tried your best to not roll your eyes at him because honestly, how dare he blew you off and now acting like he didn't whilst hoping you don't notice what he has been doing.

What did he take you for? One of his brainless bimbos?

Surprised at your words, Seonghwa was left stunned. You waited for a solid 10 seconds for him to say something. Anything.

Literally, how hard is it to say sorry?

Realizing he wouldn't realize what he's supposed to do, you just shook your head at him, "I'll finish inputting and editing my part by tonight, I'll see you in class next week, Seonghwa," you said before walking away.

You would've thought that he'd take the hint and go back to ignoring you.

But now, of course not. He's stubborn and he plays by his own rules. It's an understatement to say that you were shocked when you saw him entering the café nearing the end of your shift.

Despite the shock of seeing him, you pretended like nothing's wrong and do what you're supposed to do to any other customer as per usual.

Heck, you'd give yourself a pat on the back, head, and butt for being so calm whilst handling Seonghwa. You managed to keep that "strictly professional" smile on your face as you take his orders, you didn't fumble when he made small talks as you typed in his orders into the computer (like really, who the heck said "good thing tonight's not cloudly, love the moonlight," ??), and you didn't flinch when your hands accidently touch as you hand him his strawberry frappucino.

Yes, the badboy strictly and secretly drink sweet, fruity drinks.

You'd thought that his presence was merely a coincidence. As he waited in his table, you had assumed that he's waiting for some girl (who isn't you, sadly) so all you wanna do is run out of there as soon as you can.

"Hey, Jaemin," you called your co-worker who's in the middle of sipping his 6 shot americano at 8 pm, "I'm gonna head out, okay? Think you can hold the fort until Yena's here? She said she has to turn in an assignment, that's why she's late,"

Jaemin just rolled his eyes at you, "(Y/N), I'm drinking coffee that's powerful enough to paralyze a horse, I can definitely handle the slow Wednesday night crowd," he said sarcastically to which you laugh.

After getting your things from your locker in the back room, you proceed to go out through the front door.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had followed behind.

You were only several steps away from the café when suddenly Seonghwa caught up to you and grab your hand.

Knowing that it's quite late and it's dark, Seonghwa should've known better. You honestly only feel slightly bad for punching his chest.

Slightly.

Like 2%.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Seonghwa you scared the devil out of me!" You exclaimed after realizing that it was just him, pulling your hand away from his grip. He coughed, trying to ease oxygen back to his lungs after you had brutally knocked them out.

"Guess I deserved that," he coughed out, but he was smirking as if he's amused by your attack, "sorry, I was just- I need to talk to you," he said, looking at you pleadingly.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that for the past month and a half, Seonghwa, you seemed just about done with me," you said while crossing your arms, your expression showing nothing but disdain at him. He seems to feel remorse after seeing how you looked at him. Never once did you showed any negativity nor hostility to him during the time you both spent together.

Seonghwa didn't really know what made him pull away from you. All he was sure of is that he felt something so strongly about you to the point that it scared him so much. He never felt the need to be with someone as much as when he was with you. He found himself thinking about you when you're both not together, he found himself only focusing on you and nothing else when you both are together, and he found his vulnerabilities open for you to access.

It scared him to hell and back when he realizes that there is a possibility of him wanting something more from you.

With you.

The man before you sighed, "I... Have no excuse for how I acted recently but believe me when I said that I regret pulling myself away from you because I'm scared, you're too good to and for someone like me, you deserve the best and I wanna be the best for you," he stepped closer to take both your hands in his, his eyes were genuine which rendered you incapable of being too mad at him, "I wish I could rewind the time and take back what I did, I never should have pulled away from you, I should have just told you the truth," he said.

For a second, he forgot about his image and he just let whatever he was feeling out, he wanted to make sure that you understand how he truly feels.

Both of you stood in silence, just staring at each other as he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. With the way you're staring at him now, he was sure that your initial resolve had completely melted.

But suddenly from his peripheral vision, he saw Vernon coming out of a bookstore across the road and was looking around.

Remembering what prompted him to get closer to you again, he pulled you in close into his arms, a hand to your cheek and lips just centimetres away from his.

"So? Would you please give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me? Not as just some guy from your statistics class," his words made you chuckle and roll your eyes, "but as your boyfriend," he said before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widened, "m-me? With y-you? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" you choked out, not believing your ears in the first place. You wanted to make sure that he's not kidding, making a joke or making a fool out of you.

Instead of answering, however, he simply leaned in and places his lips softly on yours. The kiss was sweet, it conveyed how much he wants and misses you. For some reason it made you feel comforted, he feels like home and his arms makes you feel safe.

So then and there, you kiss him back as a form of an answer to him.

When you both finally pull away, you both could see dumb smiles decorating the other's face, proof of happiness over what just happen.

Remembering that you're in the middle of the road and there are people around you, you pulled away from his arms first but reached to tangle your hand in his.

"Come on, I believe I owed my groupmate my part of the presentation," you started as you walk, pulling him with you.

But as you walk, you turn your head at him to throw a flirty smirk, "boyfriend" you said, making him grin so wide, it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Maybe you and he isn't a bad idea at all.

All you can do now is hope that he won't break you.

#ateez #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #timestamp #ateez timestamp #ateez au #kpop boys #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #seonghwa #park seonghwa #smt #smt timestamp #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #kpop au

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tomhardysteeth · 3 years

Text

Use Your Imagination

[ao3]

2.9k Eddie Brock/Venom Based entirely on the Venom: Let There Be Carnage trailer

Eddie woke up to the feel of his body tugging indiscriminately out from his back. He sighed and reached behind himself, easily finding a tentacle and tickling it until it retreated back inside him.

Wake up, Eddie, Venom said cheerily, running a slimy three-pronged tendril across his face delicately. We’re hungry.

“Ugh, can’t you just bring me something in here?” Eddie replied grumpily, burying his face in his pillow.

No. Venom took control of his legs and lifted him up and onto the floor, and Eddie momentarily lost his balance before a tentacle righted him.

Eddie groaned and stretched his back, cracking it. He headed to the bathroom and took a piss while a tentacle brushed his teeth.

He was exhausted, because he and Venom had finally tracked down all the guys harassing Mrs. Chen and had spent half the night running—literally running—them down. But Venom was even more chaotically energetic than usual because it had gotten to eat three people.

And Eddie couldn’t drink caffeine anymore—Venom hated it—so he was resigned to his orange juice and to spending the entirety of the morning just trying to wake up.

“Babe, what the hell are you making?” Eddie asked as his body shifted minutely with the extension of several tentacles all over the kitchen.

Breakfast, Venom replied as it knocked several things out of the fridge and onto the floor.

“You can’t possibly be hungry.”

No, but you are.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how their digestive systems worked, but he knew his body didn't even notice when they ate people, and his appetite was completely different than it used to be and also completely different from humans in general. He had to eat big, disgusting meals at least three times a day, and despite Venom assuring him that they both needed the sustenance to survive, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that he had gained weight.

Not that he could get on a scale. He broke his bathroom scale when he tried, presumably because a massively dense alien inhabited his body. That being said, his belly stuck out farther than it used to and his jeans were too tight.

Venom was making a mess and singing along (terribly) to the radio, so Eddie took a seat at the kitchen table and tried to dig his phone out of the pocket of his robe with his hand, but a tentacle got to it first and handed it to him.

He scrolled for a few minutes, ignoring the crashing sounds and the fire that he could see in his peripheral vision. Venom would clean it all up eventually, so it was fine.

“Don’t forget to feed the chickens,” Eddie said distractedly, still looking at his phone.

Don’t forget to feed the chickens, Venom mocked in a nagging voice.

They always had a few chickens in their apartment that Eddie got from a local farmer so Venom could eat live meat whenever it needed it. Except for the one chicken Venom had apparently imprinted on and was actually just their pet. Venom had named her Popsicle.

Ta-da, Venom said as it dropped two plates stacked high with who knows what underneath the waffles.

“Thanks, Vee. Looks great,” Eddie lied.

Venom swirled the end of a tentacle across his face, and Eddie reached up a hand to hold it steady so he could kiss it.

Venom always helped with eating, because despite Eddie’s weird appetites, he still found it difficult to actually put food to mouth without gagging a bit. He also hated how long it took to eat enough to make him full, so Venom took to mindlessly feeding him, quicker than Eddie could feed himself, while he checked his emails and read the news.

What do you want to do this weekend? Venom asked as it put a fork to Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing,” Eddie mumbled around the food.

Oooh, spicing it up a bit from last weekend when we did nothing.

Eddie huffed a laugh and reached for a limb, tangling his fingers through the threads of Venom’s biomass.

After breakfast, Eddie got caught up in reading on his phone, so Venom took over control of his body and moved him onto the couch. It laid him on his back and propped pillows behind his head and under his arm, then it produced several tentacles out of the center of his chest and took to cleaning the mess it had made.

Eddie couldn’t see his phone past the tentacles, so a smaller tendril emerged and held it for him. His hands free, he stuck his right down the front of his boxers and lazily played with himself.

Venom ignored him, too busy humming along to the radio to notice that Eddie was getting hard. After about five minutes, Eddie got bored and stopped his hand, resting it palm down inside the waistband of his boxers. His neglected boner softened.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Anne’s voice shouting at them to turn off the music.

Eddie jumped and reflexively sucked a couple tentacles back into his body. Another limb caught his phone before it fell to the floor, then even more tentacles came out of his back and pushed him upright and closed his robe for him.

Venom had cleaned much of the mess in the kitchen, but there was still cereal all over the counter, dishes piled precariously in the sink and on the stove, bullet holes in the fridge door, a tire swing hanging by the kitchen table, gaping holes in the ceiling, a four-foot stack of various bones from different creatures in the corner—hacked up by Venom during digestion.

“The chickens—grab the fucking chickens,” Eddie whisper-shouted as he walked to the door, Popsicle under his arm.

Venom grabbed the other three chickens and held them out of sight of the cracked door.

“Hey, Annie,” Eddie greeted.

She tried to peer through the door, but Eddie had a tight grip on it, only revealing a sliver of his body to her.

“You didn’t text me last night,” she said.

Eddie closed his eyes. “Right. Sorry. We got home really fucking late, and it just slipped my mind.”

“Eddie, I have to know you’re OK.” Anne tilted her head and moved her eyes like if she looked hard enough then the door would magically swing open.

“We’re fine, Annie. We took care of things.” Eddie avoided telling Anne details of his and Venom's vigilantism, but he always tried to text her to let her know they were safe.

“Eddie.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you holding a chicken?”

As Eddie looked down at the chicken under his arm, Anne shoulder-tackled him and the door simultaneously and made a break for it into his apartment. Venom immediately encased her in tentacles and tossed her back into the hallway and slammed the door shut in her face.

I HAVEN’T FINISHED CLEANING UP IN HERE, ANNIE, AND I’D LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, Venom shouted.

Several neighbors yelled and banged on the walls, demanding that Venom shut the fuck up.

“HEY!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs. He grabbed a broom with his hand and a mop with a tentacle and aggressively hit the ends of them against the ceiling and walls. “NEED I REMIND YOU FREELOADERS WHO TOOK CARE OF CRAIG?”

Craig was their (missing for 35 days and counting) landlord.

Anne pounded on the door. “Eddie, open this fucking door, I swear to god!”

Eddie forcefully cracked the door, only enough for Anne to see one of his narrowed eyes. “You’re not allowed to judge how we live.”

She pushed on the door, and he allowed her to come inside. A solid minute passed in which Anne stood in the middle of the apartment with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room without saying anything. Then, in an even tone:

“Alright. First question. Tire swing?”

Venom continued cleaning. Eddie stood next to Anne.

“Do you want the real answer or the PG answer?”

Anne’s whole body revolted. “Ew, oh my god. Gross, gross, gross—”

No, Annie, look, it’s just for this, Venom said, extending a head out of Eddie’s shoulder and snaking several tentacles around the tire. It spun the tire as fast as possible in one direction and then unraveled itself in a gooey mess as the tire spun in the other direction.

“Oh,” Anne said. “Is that really what you use it for?”

Venom’s head was in the middle of the tire with limbs extending out to swing itself back and forth. No, I suspend Eddie in it and fuck him until he cries.

Anne cursed and threw her hands up in the air. Eddie and Venom laughed.

“Alright, next question.” Anne said after she had recovered. “Are the chickens for eating?”

“Yeah, except for Popsicle.” Eddie pointed across the room at where Popsicle was pecking at unidentified detritus on the floor.

“How the hell do you know which one Popsicle is?”

“What do you mean? She’s that one.” He pointed again.

“They all look the same, Eddie.”

No. Popsicle looks like that. Venom pointed a tendril toward Popsicle. And the food looks like that. Another tendril split off into three prongs to point at the other chickens.

Anne dropped her head and put her fingers to her temples, rubbing in circles.

The toaster oven exploded.

“Jesus, Vee, what did I tell you about—”

WELL maybe if SOMEONE would let me steal an oven then we could—

“Where the hell are we gonna put an oven in here? You gonna steal it from one of our neighbors?”

They continued arguing with each other while a tentacle grabbed a fire extinguisher from their stash of fire extinguishers in the coat closet and put the toaster oven out.

“I don’t think you’re gonna get your deposit back, Eddie,” Anne said, still looking around his apartment. Her eyes stopped on the wicker basket full of dildos by the TV, but she didn't comment on it.

A rock hit Eddie’s window. Venom opened it and stuck a tentacle out, and the neighborhood kids down on the street cheered and asked if it had time to play.

“Go ahead, babe,” Eddie said.

It always felt a little strange when Venom removed so much of itself from inside Eddie’s body. It of course had to leave some still inside him, but just one tiny thread connected them together as Venom fanned out on the outside of the apartment building and juggled as many mundane objects as the children had in their power to throw up at it. Rocks, old toys, dolls, basketballs, baseball bats, a lawn chair, a pan of broccoli casserole, a cat.

“How the hell do you live like this, Eddie?” Anne asked.

Eddie cleared a space on the kitchen counter by shoving cereal onto the floor, then he grabbed two mugs off the sink pile and dug the coffeemaker out from the back of an extremely disorganized cabinet. The coffee itself was hidden from Venom in a plastic bag duct taped to the wall behind the fridge, so Eddie easily nudged the fridge to the side to retrieve it. He figured if Venom played with the kids long enough, he could get a little bit of caffeine in his body without it noticing.

He said to Anne, “I’m in a relationship with an alien. What do you expect?”

Anne looked at the fridge then at Eddie, clearly confused by his inhuman strength. “I don’t know? For you to still act like an adult human?”

Eddie internally tugged at the strands of Venom still inside him and found just enough biomass to make thick black veins pop out all over his face. “How ‘bout now? Do I still look like an adult human?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie pulled the veins back in. “Stop worrying about us, Annie. I know it looks like a disaster in here, but that’s because our life is a disaster. It works for us.”

A child shrieked in a loud laugh. Eddie could just barely see through the window that Venom was juggling the 5-year-old twin girls that lived in the apartment below them.

“Babe!” Eddie yelled. “Put the girls down before somebody calls the fucking cops!”

The girls aww’d their disappointment as Venom carefully lowered them to the ground.

“Eddie.”

He turned his attention back to Anne and waited for her to continue.

“Are you, um, safe? Like, what are the logistics of your...sex life?”

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, Annie, Vee is made up of a whole bunch of malleable tentacles, so I’d say use your imagination.”

Venom slithered its way back in, so Eddie tried to gulp down his coffee but didn’t finish before a tentacle wrenched it out of his hand and slung it into the sink.

“How do you know you’re not, like, subjecting yourself to some kind of alien STDs?” Anne asked. “Or, like, what if it’s changed your body composition so much that you guys are, like, capable of reproducing?”

Venom and Eddie both gasped and smiled at each other, Venom’s head floating just a couple feet away from Eddie’s.

Eddie said, “Oh, that would be so cute if we had a little—” at the same time that Venom said Aww imagine if it had your good looks and my complexion—

“Fucking Christ, you guys are intolerable,” Anne interrupted. “Can you not be weird for, like, two seconds?”

Venom pouted at her and moved its head over to Eddie’s shoulders, nudging at his face and bumping against him like a needy cat. It wrapped two big tentacles around his waist like arms, and Eddie dropped his hands over them and squeezed affectionately.

“What else did you come over here for, Annie?” Eddie asked.

She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you and Venom would like to come over to my apartment sometime to have dinner with me and Dan.”

Venom’s head popped up from where it was resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Dan is finally ready to hang out with me?!

“Yes, but he’s still a little delicate since—”

I tried to stick my tongue in his mouth when you were kissing him goodbye before going to rescue Eddie from Riot, yeah, I get that.

“You what?” Eddie asked.

“So if you could just try to temper yourselves a tiny bit, maybe leave the chickens at home and don’t talk about fucking each other,” Anne concluded.

“He knows that we’re fucking each other, though, right?”

“Yes, but knowing it and being confronted with it are two totally different things.”

Hey, Annie, tell Dan I think he’s boring.

“Hey, be nice,” Eddie chastised, reaching a hand up to pat Venom’s face.

Anne told them she would let them know a date and time, then she headed for the door with Eddie close on her heels. She turned and hugged him on her way out and didn’t flinch when a couple tentacles clung to her, too.

They’re not going to feed us enough, Venom said after she was gone.

“Yeah, we’ll have to pre-game.”

Eddie went back to his lazy spot on the couch and Venom went back to tidying up. This time, when Eddie’s hand inevitably found its way into his boxers, Venom took notice right away and teased a small tendril out of his thigh to join in on the fun.

ALEXA, PLAY “LET’S GET IT ON” BY MARVIN GAYE.

“You broke the Alexa yesterday, babe.”

Right, I’ll just have to sing it myself.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned his head back, stroking himself slowly. “Please don’t.”

Venom rumbled a complaint through Eddie’s entire body, but then it snaked two tentacles over his shoulders and down his chest and pulled his boxers off completely. Two more tentacles pushed out of Eddie’s back and hammocked him in, folding underneath him and then turning up toward the ceiling to grip the holes.

When they started having sex, it wasn’t really so much of a monumental decision as it was Venom participating in literally every single other aspect of Eddie’s life that it just didn’t make sense for it not to be involved in the most fun bit. After Venom had been with Eddie for a week or so, Eddie couldn’t avoid his sex drive anymore and tried to quietly jerk off. Venom, having already stuck its tentacles into everything else Eddie did, simply wrapped a limb around Eddie’s hand and helped him out. And Eddie, stupid and horny, had immediately asked the alien to fuck him with its tongue.

So, here they were.

With Eddie suspended, Venom moved its head under him and licked its way around his rim. There was still only one small tendril helping his hand pump his cock, but they had plenty of time to—

“Eddie, I forgot my—oh my god, oh my fucking god, oh my fucking—”

Eddie dropped back down on the couch, biomass encasing his nakedness in a safe little cocoon, but Anne had already rushed out the door and slammed it shut.

He sighed. “I guess she doesn’t have to use her imagination.”

#venom #venom 2 #symbrock #venom fic #symbrock fic #veneddie #venom let there be carnage #wouldn't it be cool if i knew how to tag things #my fics

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write-orflight · 3 years

Text

Settle Down: Chapter 4

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Smut!! (Oral, male receiving. Sexual conduct. language.)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

AN: Unedited because I was scrambling to finish before work. Comment on this chapter or inbox to be on taglist. thanks! much love, Cia.

Chapter 4: Frozen, fuck you.

Misfortune came in the form of spots in your underwear the following week. You weren’t pregnant despite your best efforts. You took a personal day because of how bummed you were feeling, assuring Hotch that you could do your job from home. So you spent your morning eating terribly and reviewing the files Garcia sent you. Once you finish all your work for the day, you curl up on the couch with a pint of ice cream, bourbon and National Geographic. You’re hours in when you get a knock at your door. You stumble over and open it to reveal Spencer. He looks at you concerned as you very drunkenly head back to your couch, leaving the door open indicating you were inviting him in. He closes the door behind him looking at you concerned.

“Have you been drinking?”

“Wow, is this why they say you’re good at your job?” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Y/N, should you even be drinking? You might be—“

“Did you know elephants are pregnant for almost 2 years?” You say pointing at the TV. “Why am I even asking? You know everything.”

“Do you wanna tell me what’s got you so upset?” Spencer says, kneeling in front of your perch on the couch.

“Did you know it’s very difficult for female pandas to become pregnant?” You say, you feel your eyes becoming wet but you blink back the tears. “That makes two of us.” You shrug.

It clicks for Spencer in that moment. “You’re not…” he asks. You shake your head.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. Maybe you should ask someone else. Maybe someone without a broken uterus.”

“Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with you.” He says, cupping your cheek with his hand. You can’t help but nuzzle back into it. “I went to the doctor with you. Just because it didn’t happen this time doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Not everyone gets pregnant their first time trying.”

“But people not trying at all end up pregnant the first time. What’s wrong with me?” The tear that’s been threatening the whole time finally falls down your cheek. Spencer swipes his thumb across it, looking sympathetically at you.

“We can just try again next month, Y/N. We’ve got time, ok?” He says, you nod.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You say.

“No problem. Now come on, lay down.” He says, sitting down on the end of the couch and pulling you down to lay down onto his lap. “And stop watching National Geographic if it’s making you sad. We can even watch that movie with the talking toys if you want?”

“All three?”

“God, there’s three?!”

———————————————

The following weeks are pretty uneventful. You guys caught murders and went to bars afterwards. You were in one bar after a particularly hard case with the team sans Spencer and Hotch when Derek asked you.

“Ok, apparently you swore my girl to secrecy but I have to know.” He says to you from across the booth. “What is happening between you and Pretty Boy?”

You throw a pointed look at Garcia, who just looks at you guiltily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Morgan.”

Emily chimes in at that. “Please! Before the two of you would either never talk or when you would, it’d end in an argument. Now suddenly he’s calling you on cases, not interrupting you when you’re presenting--”

“Maybe, he just finally got some sense.” You interrupt.

“See, I would say that too.” Emily says. “If he hadn’t asked me where to get that korean tea you like so much.”

You knew what she was talking about. When you found out you weren’t pregnant and came back to work. You were still hopped up on extra hormones so when you went to make your favorite tea that morning and realized you had forgotten to get more so you were out. When you saw that, you started crying softly. You just wanted tea. Spencer walked in at that moment and you wiped your face furiously so he wouldn’t see the evidence of your tears before speeding out of the kitchen. The next day you walked into the kitchen, expecting to have to make shitty coffee instead, but there was a new box of your tea. You didn’t think much of it. You assumed Garcia got you the box.

“He probably just wanted it for himself. The box has been feeling a little light lately.” You lie. “I’m serious though. Nothing’s going on.” We just have really hot sex in hopes of him impregnating me. You think. Everyone let’s it go at that point, changing the subject. You were thankful for that.

——————————————-

The day came around again and Spencer wordlessly just got in your car after you guys’ shift and you didn’t question it, you knew the drill this time around. Spencer hums along to your music playing in the car. You look at him confused.

“You know California Dreamin’?” You ask.

“I uh-I heard you tell Garcia about how you liked The Mamas and Papas so I listened to some of their songs. I thought it’d help me understand you more.”

You don’t turn towards him. You keep your eyes focused on the road so he wouldn’t see the marshmallow soft look that crossed your face. “Did you learn anything?” You ask.

He clears his throat. “You listen to a lot of soft melodic music. I wouldn’t have thought that considering how you are.”

“And how am I, Spencer Reid?”

“Opinionated, loud.” You narrow your eyes at that one but say nothing. “Yet you listen to soft love songs, your favorite movie is Wizard of Oz and you watch nothing but Disney movies in your spare time. You’re not as scary as you think you are.” He says, getting out of the parked car. You speed out the car after him immediately.

“I’m plenty scary!” You say as the two of you enter your house.

“Uh-huh, and which Disney movie are we watching tonight?”

“Frozen, fuck you.” You say leaving behind a laughing Spencer to go take your ovulation test.

After discovering you were in fact ovulating you went to the living room to put on Frozen. You were about halfway into the sister’s adventure when you asked.

“Spencer?” You asked from your perch laying on his shoulder. He turns his head down towards you, humming inquisitively. “Emily told me it was you who got my tea.”

“I did.” He says.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It was upsetting you.” he says, like it’s obvious.

“I mean, I was upset I was out, sure but it’s not your job to make sure I’m not upset.”

“It’s specifically my job to do that, Y/N.” He says, turning so he can look you in the eyes. “Y/N, you’re literally about to be the mother of my child. That makes your happiness just as important as this child’s happiness. I’m going to take care of both of you so if buying a 10 dollar box of tea is what will make you happy, I have no issues doing so.”

The look he gives you is so sincere and your heart flutters when he says it. You don’t know why but you’re suddenly bombarded with thoughts of kissing him and before you can stop yourself you do just that. Spencer hums in shock for a second. But quickly deepens the kiss, tongue tracing over yours. You moan slightly as his hands come up to cup your face. Eventually, the two of you separate, gasping for breath in the small space between you.

“What was that for?” He says.

You couldn’t say the real reason that you kissed him was because you wanted to, so bad. It would make things awkward and ruin what was an amazing plan. You needed to remember that you were doing this for the end goal, a child.

“I’m ovulating, so I figured we should start now.” You say. It was only half a lie.

Spencer looks slightly disappointed for a second before he shakes it off. He stands and grabs your hand tugging you towards the bedroom wordlessly. Once inside, his mouth is on yours again. You smirk against his lips, hands going for each other’s respective clothes. Once undressed he deposits you on the bed, settling into the space between your legs. He’s leaving open mouth bruises on your neck and chest as his hands travel down your body. You stopped him, it wasn’t that you didn’t want that, but you had other plans.

He looks at you confused for a second. A look that’s replaced completely with wanton desire when you start trailing a hand up and down is underwear clad length. You watch his eyes flutter shut for a second, relishing in the feeling. You smirk at that. You lean up to speak in his ear.

“I want to ride you.” You say, you feel Spencer’s member twitch in your palm as you say it. “Can I?”

Spencer nods fast, moving off of you to lay flat on his back. He goes to take off his underwear but you stop him, wanting to do it yourself. You tugged them down his body and as you crawled your way back up you found yourself face to face with a certain predicament. An intrusive thought pops in your head and before you can stop yourself you ask.

“Can I?” You whisper, you didn’t finish the question but your face was right next to his dick so you figured he’d get the gist.

“You don’t have to.” Spencer says, though his dick betrays his words as it violently twitches when you bring your mouth slightly towards it.

“I know.” You whisper before taking the head into your mouth. You hear Spencer hiss above you as you let your tongue swerve over the head. You moan, taking him deeper into your mouth, hand covering what you couldn’t reach. You hear a strangled gasp above you and opt to look up. Nothing could’ve prepared you for that sight. Spencer’s head was thrown back, face and neck flushed and he was biting on his fist to keep from making too much noise. Spencer was always so complimentary of you during these times and you realized you never said what you thought, that the man above you was beautiful. You still held your tongue though. It was preoccupied anyway. After sometime, Spencer’s hand cups the side of your face, moaning softly as he feels his member through your cheek. He gently pulled you off of him.

“I need to be inside you.” He says. “Now.”

You nod, crawling back up his body to straddle his lap. Spencer moves your hips so you’re right above him, allowing you to sink down on his length. The two of you groan at first contact, Spencer gives you a second to adjust, massive hands circling your waist as you rocked yourself back and forth in his lap. You already felt close despite the short amount of time. You look down at the man and he’s looking up at you with a glassy expression.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moans, hands tightening on your waist. “You look so hot like this, I’m not going to last long.”

“Me neither.” You say, Spencer takes that moment to drift his hand to your clit, thumb drawing small circles on the bundle of nerves. You moan out loud, moving your hips faster as Spencer thrusts his hips up to meet yours.

“Spencer, fuck, I’m gonna--” you cut yourself off with a moan. Spencer is thrusting up into you faster now.

“Cum for me, baby.” He says, and as if you were waiting for permission, you release moaning Spencer’s names and expletives. Spencer rides you through it, moving your hips on top of him. Before you know it, you’re on your back and Spencer is thrusting back into you hard. You practically scream out as he sets a fast pace chasing his own release.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby, I’m gonna- fuck.” He says as you feel him release inside you. He thrusts shallowly inside you, riding out his orgasm before pulling out. You wince slightly, lifting your hips so he can slide the pillow under you, knowing the drill by now. Spencer runs, his fingers through your hair, you hum pushing your head into him, like a cat.

“You ok?” He whispers. “Do you need anything?”

You shake your head. “Will you come sleep with me?” You ask.

Spencer smiles softly at you. “Of course, Y/N.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month passes and cold February winter turns to soft March spring. The weeks that pass are fairly uneventful. You work and come home to an unfortunately empty house. You and Spencer talk about not as much as before and hardly about anything not baby or work related. You could admit that the last time you guys had sex, some lines got blurred and you both needed space from each other to remember that this was still platonic. At least, that’s how you felt and though you never voiced it, Spencer seemed to understand that.

The team was out on a case when you realized. You and Garcia had been on video call with the team when you heard Derek say.

“Woah, Oz. You look like death warmed over.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“She’s not fine.” Garcia butts in. “She’s been throwing up all morning.”

“L/N, if you’re sick--” Hotch starts.

“I’m not sick! I feel completely fine, I think I just had some chinese that didn’t sit right. I’ll be fine, can we focus on the case?” You plead, Hotch nods. You see Spencer looking at the screen wide eyed but you don’t understand why.

“What did you find?” Hotch asks.

“Ok, Sebastian Henry’s financial records were a little hard to go through. Everything looked pretty normal. So I did a little--” You gag for a second but manage to keep it down. “A little digging and found a s-secret account he’s been m-making large donations to a church that, through more digging, doesn’t exist--” Garcia is already there with the bucket which you snatch and empty your lunch in immediately.

“We think it’s mafia.” Garcia says, grimacing at the sound of your vomiting. You lift up to see the team giving you empathic looks and Spencer with a deep thinking expression.

“Great, Garcia, look into that more. And Y/N, go home.” Hotch says.

“What? Hotch, I’m fine!”

“And I wasn’t asking.” He says, in that authoritative voice that made you know he meant business.

“Fine.” you grumble as he ends the call.

You’re on the way home when you get a call from Spencer.

“Spencer, what’s up? Does Hotch need me to go back in?”

“Oh, uh-no.” He says. “Listen, I know you said you’d tell me if something was up but Penelope saying you’d been sick all morning is making me overthink and well, did you take a test?” He asked.

You look up at that. The two of you had been so busy with cases and work that the one thing you had been waiting for had completely slipped your mind.

You were late.

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Text

Small Actions (Create Big Ripples) CC!Plat!Ranboo x GN!Reader

I've been thinking lately about this little drabble and it makes me a bit upset? Like.. I'm in this position high key but theres nothing I can do about it...

(R/R/n) stands for Ranboo's real name. Also if you're really tall.... No you're not. Shhhh. For plot purposes

You stayed away from social media as much as possible. Now, don't get me wrong, you used to love watching Youtubers play their games and happily interact with their fans.. But growing up, you never seemed to have enough money to donate when they streamed, or go to events where they were.

You had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped you through life, or shaped your personality.. Or saved you. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it..

You'd probably just get a simple, "Aw. Happy I could help." Before turning back to their game without blinking twice.

So, you just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show your appreciation.. But you never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'

Eventually it hurt too much to keep watching the content creators that raised you, so you just stopped and went on with your life.

It was hard, but at least you didn't have to deal with the fact that you would never be able to thank the people you watched for making your life that much better.

As time went on, while you still heard about the creators, it was just... less. Now people were non stop blabbering about these people from something called the DreamSMP?

Your sister was obsessed with it to say the least, and you always heard her mumbling about strange people like Technoblade? Or Sapnap? And apparently some people had children with inanimate objects?! Like a Samsung Fridge and a salmon?! Yeah you didn't even bother trying to understand what she was rambling about most of the times. It just spun your head in circles.

"Okay, I gotta take my mutt to the vet," Your sister and closest friend, (S/n), tilted her head towards the backseat to her dog as you sat in the passenger seat. "You think you'll be good to do the shopping for two or so hours? I'll call when I'm finished, and plus I know how you can get distracted with looking at some things."

"Yeah, I think I'll be good." You nodded slightly, going over the list in your hand of things to get for your classes, food and just some clothing for the changing seasons.

(S/n) pulled into the parking lot and looked you over briefly, "You forgot your mask didn't you?" She watched as your hands flew up to your face to feel for the fabric, but you didn't find it so you fished through the pockets of your sweater before smiling nervously at the driver. "Uuugggggggghhhh. Of course. Okay, I got a new one from the merch store that you can use, but do not damage it! I spent a whole $30 on it!"

Scoffing as you rolled your eyes, you snagged the half white and half black mask away from her, "You and your merch. Honestly, (S/n), your obsession scares me. But anyway, thanks. I won't get it damaged, I swear." You pulled the mask onto your face after giving her a smile and walked into the store as she drove off.

Sighing slightly, you walked in, sanitized your hands, and set off on your journey to find the things you needed. Surprisingly, today seemed to be a good day as you miraculously pulled the card that didn't have the busted wheel!

Humming a soft tune to yourself, you paced up and down aisles in search of (S/n)'s favourite coffee. Pausing for a moment as you scanned the shelves, you finally spotted it and made a noise of anger as you realized it was on the very top shelf. "Oh, I hate it here..." You mumbled, a phrase you had picked up from your sister who was really big on trends like that.

Grumbling to yourself, you stood on the tips of your toes, jumped up and down, even climbed the shelves a small bit, but it just seemed to brush by your fingertips every time. Apparently it had been long enough to the point where someone had wandered into the aisle as well.

"Hey... Uh.. Nice mask? You need help?" A male voice asked very hesitantly making your head turn towards him. He was t a l l and literally could tower over you if you got close enough. He had fluffy dirty blonde hair possibly? It looked a little damp so you couldn't really tell. Rain had been in the weather report, but guess it couldn't hold off long enough. Oddly enough, he was wearing dark sunglasses and the exact same mask as you?

'Maybe he's a fan of one of (S/n)'s fandoms?' You stepped back with a sheepish smile and a blush. "Oh! Yes please! Uhm.. Also, could you tell me about what these masks represent? This is my sister's... And I kinda want to make sure I'm not looking like I'm part of some gang or something."

The tall boy reached up for the coffee before pausing midway through and looking at you in surprise. "You don't know who... Oh, it's just from a Twitch Streamer.." He murmured rather softly as he got the coffee down for you.

With a cheerful "Thank you!" You placed the container in the cart. "Oh? Yeah that makes sense. My sister loves that kind of stuff. Are they... A good person?"

"I-I'd like to think so." He nodded quickly. "Are you not.. Like, a fan of content creators? Like.. Uh.. Dream or (P/F/C)?" (Past favourite creator)

"Well... I mean I used to really like (p/f/c) when I was younger. But it kind of... Saddened me, you know?"

He looked at you again and tilted his head a bit, "Saddened you? Did they do something bad?"

"No no! It's just... I try to avoid joining fandoms, even if they make me really happy while in them despite the toxicity. I really enjoy the people who create content, and I like watching them have fun... It's just.." Were you really gonna spill some personal stuff to some stranger who showed you the slightest bit of kindness? Not originally. But he kept watching you, patiently waiting for you to continue the sentence. "They'll... Never know.. How much they saved me."

"Oh.. I see. Yeah.. I've had that happen a lot. When, I watch this guy's streams," He pulled at his mask for a moment, "People always donate money and tell him how much they appreciate him for getting them through rocky times.. It's heartwarming to say the least but he does sound genuinely thankful."

"Oh that's sweet.. What does he do? Or what's he like?" You asked with a smile, although he couldn't see it, as you crouched down to get something from the sheleves. "Unless you have places to be of course!"

He looked a little surprised at first, "Ah... I got time. It's just.. Kinda nice being able to talk to people again after quarantine..." He trailed off briefly before taking something off the shelf as well and putting it in his basket, "Uh.. The streamer is a popular minecraft player. He recently hit a record during a stream and everyone lost their minds. He's a little painfully awkward at some points but he enjoys playing the games and interacting with his chat."

"Oh he sounds nice! I would definitely want to friends with someone like him!" You chuckled softly before frowning and glancing away. "Oh.. Popular.. So I'd be another comment in the flood of a chat.. Damn. I got a little excited. Oh! My bad, I'm (Y/n). Nice to meet you!" You laughed softly in an attempt to brush off the sad atmosphere you made.

"(R/r/n). But everyone just calls me Ranboo. Nice to meet you too." He sounded as if he was smiling but there was a soft sadness in his tone. "Do you not like popular streamers then?"

"No, it's just... that I had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped me through life, or shaped my personality.. Or saved me.. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it.. I suppose it just left me feeling a bit hopeless and like a broken record of every other fan of theirs. So, I just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show appreciation.. But I never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'.."

Ranboo seemed slightly more upset and he shifted his basket into his other hand, "I don't think it's like that at all.. I believe that streamers and creators truly cherish anyone who even interacts with their videos, and even though they know there's some people in the world who can't say anything or buy their merchandise, the creators still know that they're there. They appreciate everyone who comes along their path, whether they support them by giving them money, criticism or their attention!"

You blinked at how... Passionate your new friend was about this topic before smiling softly. "I guess... It never passed my mind.. Thank you Ranboo.. Hey, you wanna be friends and get to know each other more?"

His expression was unreadable due to the fabric covering his mouth and nose, and the glasses covering his eyes. "Oh! Sure!" He sounded quite happy, so you were guessing that you weren't being too awkward. "Here's my number, as long as you promise to never give it to anyone. Even if someone wants to get to know me, okay?"

You took out your phone and looked at him with a strange expression, but quickly nodded. 'Maybe he is just really strict about his privacy.' Once he gave you the number, you sent a quick text to him to give him your contact in return. "Great! It was wonderful meeting you, I hope we can hang out more often! After.. covid of course."

Eagerly nodding, Ranboo finished writing your contact into his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Oh yeah definitely! I'll see you soon, (Y/n)!"

Parting your separate ways, you looked down at the newly added contact, 🤍Ranboo🖤 (Platonic hearts), with a smile.

Maybe small actions weren't as useless as you thought...

#ranboolive #ranboo #ranboo x reader #ranboo x you #ranboo dreamsmp #ranboo dsmp #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #reader insert #x reader

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

crash landing — harry potter

pairing: harry potter x female!reader

request: Wow, just wow. Your blog is absolutely phenomenal 😍 Can i request Harry Potter x reader where he accidentally injures the reader who isn't even playing quidditch and smth happens? Thank you 💓💓💓

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

Harry isn't the brightest wizard of his age. He's not especially favored by any of his teachers, nor is he known for being a social butterfly—and he's not exactly one to strictly abide by the rules, either. But what Harry has established so far five years into his time at Hogwarts is this: he's good at Quidditch.

Scratch that, he's bloody great at it. If he were to brag about one thing (which he wouldn't, necessarily, but would if he needed to), it wouldn't be the fact that he survived a killing curse from one of the most powerful darkest wizards in history, nor that quite literally everyone in the wizarding world knows his name, but that he's a damn good Seeker. The youngest in a century.

He's been playing the team for five years now, so if there is one thing that is engrained into his mind, it's this:

When he sees a snitch, he catches it.

So when Harry hovers above the pitch during Quidditch practice and catches a glimpse of a winged golden ball fluttering just to the right of his peripheral vision, he doesn't hesitate. Just swerves around on his broom and makes a bee-line straight for the snitch.

Harry zooms towards the tiny ball, hand already outstretched, gaze fixed entirely on it, not even pausing to register the fact that it's hovering above the head of someone sitting in the stands—

His eyes widen, darting from the snitch to the Slytherin girl sitting just underneath it, whose eyes are wide in terror.

Harry's better judgment wins, in the end, but it's far too late; even as he tries to pull his broomstick to the left, he fails. Miserably.

Harry crashes into the stands—into the girl, sending both of them flying into the benches. Harry's head smacks against something hard: one of the seats. Miraculously, he manages to hang onto his broom, but it's at the cost of whoever unfortunate soul he'd crashed into, because he hears the undeniable smack and the resounding "ow!" that follows the broom's bristles hitting someone's face.

One moment Harry's day is going perfectly well, and the next he is half-laying on the benches of the Quidditch stands, dazed, a mere foot away from the Slytherin girl who had landed on the floor next to him, clutching her head in pain.

Harry blinks, groaning as he pushes himself up slowly.

The girl is muttering curses under her breath; she meets Harry's gaze as soon as it lands on her and shoots him a scathing look. "Bloody fantastic. Really," she says, voice dripping with harsh sarcasm as she massages her head. "Yes, of course, just barrel into a harmless spectator minding her own business. Really good job."

Harry starts to blubber out a string of apologies, but then Wood yells, "Harry!" from where he's hovering next to the goalposts. "Are you alright?"

Harry swallows, looking away from the girl. "Yeah, I'm okay, just—just give me a second!"

"I'm not," the Slytherin grumbles. "I've been concussed."

Harry's first instinct is to flush red. "I'm really sorry, I just—saw the snitch and went for it, I suppose, I'm really s—"

"Help me up first, why don't you?" replies the girl, still obviously irked as she looks up at him.

Harry stands up quickly despite his suddenly sore limbs groaning in protest. He sticks his hand out to the girl, who takes it in her own and lets him pull her up so that she can sit down on one of the benches.

"I'm really sorry," says Harry again. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital wing?"

Scrunching her nose, she looks up at Harry.

Harry realizes that this is definitely not the time to be thinking such things, but bloody hell, she is pretty.

She stares at him expectantly, still scowling a little, brows raised as though waiting for a response. Harry clears his throat and wills himself to stop thinking about things that don't need to be thought of (or at least not right now—he has a feeling that a face like hers, albeit one that's glaring daggers at him, won't leave his head anytime soon).

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" he says, swallowing.

She huffs. "S'pose I'm not the only one who hit their head," she mutters. Bluntly, she repeats, "I asked if you were alright."

At this, Harry's brows jump up in surprise. It's an interesting thing to hear, and not just because she's a Slytherin; she doesn't exactly look like the friendly type.

"Er," he stammers out, a little confused but not entirely against her unexpected concern. "Uh, yeah. I'm doing.. doing peachy."

Out of all the things he could've said. Peachy.

Harry doesn't know if he's imagining it—if he has hit his head and this is the result of a concussion—but it almost looks as if the corner of her lips tugs up into a slight smile.

It disappears quickly, that faint hint of an amused smile, but Harry swears it was there—or was it?

She sighs, dropping the hand that's massaging her head back to her side. "Well, go ahead and get back in the game," she says, tone losing some of its scorn but not all of it. "Wouldn't want you missing out on practice, do we?" She side-eyes him. (Harry ignores the way his heart skips a half-beat.) "Best seeker of the decade and all."

Harry stands there a little awkwardly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he looks to her and to the broomstick lying at his feet. "Are you sure you don't need me to take you to the hospital wing?" he asks hesitantly, wondering if he should pick up his broom and fly away, save himself from further embarrassment.

But it doesn't feel right. So even as she glares at him and mutters, "I'll survive a smack to the head", Harry doesn't leave. Instead, scuffling his shoes against the ground, he looks at the rest of his teammates, who continue practicing without him, and then back to the girl.

And maybe it's because of how breathtakingly beautiful she is (under normal circumstances, Harry would say pretty, but that word isn't quite enough to capture how she looks)—but Harry clears his throat and gestures with his hands to nothing in particular, then decides to say, "Can I make it up to you?"

She stiffens just the slightest bit in surprise. Harry's sweaty palms form fists as he tucks them behind his back. "I mean," he begins quickly, just to fill in the silence, "I just. I feel bad—and I don't want to, you know, go around flying around the pitch while you sit here nursing a headache. Doesn't sit right with me, you know?"

The girl purses her lips before turning her head to look up at him. Harry finds himself looking away. Out of all the bloody people he could've flown into, it just had to be the prettiest one.

"Make it up to me with what, exactly?" she asks, flicking her brows up at him.

Harry shifts on his feet. "There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up this weekend," he says. "I could—we could—I'd love to buy you a butterbeer." He pauses, then adds, "Or something."

She stares at him, eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, and then—no, that's definitely a smile. Harry's sure of it. (Unless he hit his head far harder than he thought he did.)

His heart stammers inside his chest as she tilts her head to the side and shrugs. "Suppose it wouldn't hurt as much as a broomstick to the head, would it?"

Harry breaks out into a grin, but then realizes that it probably isn't a good idea to be smiling at the mention of her being hit on the head, so he quickly stops and says, not for the first time that day, "I'm really, really sorry. The snitch was right next to you and—"

"You said bugger all about safety and went straight for it," she finishes, but this time she doesn't sound quite as exasperated as she did before. She doesn't sound very happy, either, but still—Harry allows himself to breathe properly.

"Sorry," he says bashfully.

"It's fine," the girl says, and this time she sounds like she means it. "If I end up fainting in the hallway either today or tomorrow, you'll be the first to know. And then you can start feeling bad."

Harry just barely manages to stop himself from grinning again. Even then, his lips tug up at the edges against his will. "So.. um," he leans down to pick up his broomstick. "I'll meet you at the Great Hall this.. um.. Saturday?"

She eyes him somewhat curiously, lips still pressed together into that almost-smile. "Is this a regular thing?" she asks. "Crashing into girls and asking them to dates?"

Harry's eyes widen. He shakes his head quickly. "No. No way. I wouldn't risk y—"

"Only joking," she cuts him off, and does something that has Harry's heart turning into pure mush inside his chest: she laughs. Harry pauses, relaxing, and wonders if he could somehow go all the way to the Muggle village near Hogwarts, find himself a tape recorder, dash back here, and ask her to laugh again so that he could record it and listen to it over and over.

"You should probably—" she gestures to his broom, then to the pitch. "I don't think your captain would take well to you talking to a girl instead of practicing."

"He'd understand," says Harry, grip tightening on his broomstick. "I mean, especially if it's a pretty girl, but. Er. Yeah." He burns bright red at his own words, scratching the back of his neck and looking away, but not before spotting the smile on her face. "I'll get going now."

"Try not to crash into me again. If you do I'm going to start thinking you're doing it on purpose." She sweeps her arm out in a welcoming gesture, inclining her head as though curtsying. "Fly free, Harry Potter."

Harry swings his legs over his broomstick and kicks up into the air, back into the pitch, and then zooms away.

"About time, Harry!" yells Wood.

But two minutes later, he's whizzing back towards the Slytherin girl, although not as fast as before. This time he means to.

"I didn't catch your name," he says, hovering in mid-air in front of her.

She shakes her head as though in disbelief, then says, loudly, "It's [Y/N]."

"[Y/N]," Harry repeats, grinning. "Has a nice ring to it."

And then he flies away, before Wood kicks him off the team.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic

1K notes · View notes

ddaengtae · 4 years

Text

a bit much || myg

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: college, enemies? to lovers, a wee bit of angst, smut

word count: 16.9k (lmao sorry)

summary: it’s your senior year of college. after surviving three years, nothing could surprise you, right? wrong. you can’t seem to catch a minute of peace from the moment the beautiful, yet utterly obnoxious min yoongi decides to sit in the seat next to you in one of your lectures and takes every opportunity he can get to pester you. he’s just doing this to piss you off, right? (or maybe he’s an awkward idiot).

a/n: i’ve written for quite a few other fandoms in the past, but this is my first bts piece i’ve actually decided to publish here after transitioning this blog into bts trash. this has been a work in progress since yoongi decided to hit us with that daechwita video and give me all the feels. would love to hear your feedback. sorry if there’s any typos but enjoy!!!

Senior year of college was here. The last first day of classes you would ever experience was upon you. The fact that you had made it this far felt almost close to miraculous; taking into account all of the late-night library mental breakdowns, near-death drunk experiences, and relationship drama, it was shocking that you had made it this far in one piece. Yet here you were, seated in a familiar, large lecture hall preparing for the first day of a history gen-ed class. Why hadn’t you listened to everyone else and gotten all of your gen-eds out of the way freshman year? That would have been the smart thing to do, leaving you to take all fun classes for your final year. The class was probably going to be full of freshmen, too eager to befriend a lonesome senior such as yourself with the hopes of coercing you to buy them alcohol or invite them to upperclassmen parties. Cringe. And yet here you were.

As you spread your neatly-labeled notebook and color-coordinated pens out in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel someone’s eyes burning into the side of your head. Oh no. Had the freshmen already scoped you out as obviously older than them and an easy target? Class hadn’t even started yet. Chewing on your lower lip, you tilted your head to the side slightly and allowed your eyes to meet those of the unknown source. Immediately, your breath hitched in your throat.

There before you stood Min Yoongi. Although the two of you had never met before, you were aware of his existence through mutual friends and word of mouth. The boy was gorgeous; even with his dark, piercing eyes intimidating you nearly to death, you felt as if you were going to melt into the ground as you took in the features of his face. A thick red headband pushed his bleached blonde hair out of his face, allowing you to take in more of his perfectly sculpted features. The plump of his cheeks and lips seemed to contrast the rest of his frightening yet gorgeous attributes, giving the appearance of a sort of twisted innocence.

“Is somebody sitting here?” the boy interrupted your fantasies in a deep, low voice, motioning to the empty seat to your right.

Blinking a few times to snap back into reality, you shook your head and turned back to your belongings, cheeks tinted pink. “No, you can have it.”

With a loud slam of his backpack onto the table, he sank into the seat beside you. As you stared down at your notebook and began to nervously jot down the date and any other unimportant details you could think of, you were quite conscious of the feeling of Yoongi’s eyes studying you.

“Is this history gen-ed or do I have the wrong room?” he tried to question genuinely, but you could hear an amused glimmer in the tone of his voice. “This whole elaborate set-up you have going on has me thinking this is an art class or something. It’s a bit much.”

Just as your cheeks had finally started to cool down, the color rushed to them yet again. The judgement in his voice suddenly had you embarrassed of the organizational skills that you usually took pride in, your instincts making you put your arms up on either side of your notebook and pens in an attempt to block them from his view. As the judgement settled in, it slowly morphed into a deeper feeling of annoyance. Sure he was hot, but who did this complete stranger think he was making fun of you?

“Tell that to my grades,” you simply muttered back, the sound of the professor’s voice at the front of the lecture hall cutting you off from indulging further in your irritated thoughts. Rolling your eyes to yourself, you shifted your body to face the front of the room and clicked down on one of your favorite pens, ready for the start of the new semester.

As you were now occupied with learning the layout of the new course, you missed the way Yoongi’s eyes scanned up and down the side of your face and his lips fell into a lop-sided grin.

The happenings of the first day of class proved to be the beginning of a pattern. Although the chances of Yoongi coming to class were a hit or miss, whenever he did happen to show up, his behavior was the same.

One day about two weeks into the semester, the boy in question showed up approximately thirty seconds before class was set to begin. Rather than rush into his seat and shovel out his things, he remained standing for a few moments too long, his eyes traveling up and down your appearance.

“A dress and heels?” Yoongi interrogated, a quiet chuckle slipping through his lips as he finally plopped down into his seat. His dark eyes searched yours as he raised an eyebrow. “A bit much for class, don’t you think?”

Sighing to yourself, you smoothed the floral skirt of your yellow sundress out over your thighs. Couldn’t he ever just let you exist in peace? “They’re wedges,” you corrected, digging the heel of your shoe into the carpet beneath you to let out some of your frustration. Feeling a bit braver today than during your first few interactions, you allowed your eyes to rake up and down his body slowly, faking a judgmental look on your face. The corner of your lips quirked upward slightly as you noticed the way he seemed to freeze in place at your actions. “Some of us actually enjoy putting a little bit of effort into our appearance, you know.” A white lie of course, but a necessary one. Even in his joggers and oversized hoodie, the blonde boy managed to look like a model beside you.

Yoongi’s eyes widened just the slightest bit in surprise at your fighting words, but nonetheless, an amused laugh bubbled through his body. “Didn’t take you for the feisty type…” he trailed off, tapping the edge of his pen against the table in front of him. “You loo–”

His voice cut off abruptly as the professor’s voice boomed through the lecture hall, signaling the beginning of class. Rather than finish his mysterious statement, Yoongi turned to face the front of the room, smiling to himself as he jotted down the date in the corner of his notebook.

Three weeks into the semester, friendship or even acquaintanceship seemed out of the question for you and Yoongi. Although he was physically still the beautiful boy you had daydreamed about prior to having met him, his personality destroyed any fantasies you had about him being a quiet, misunderstood boy. It seemed as if though he refused to let you catch a break in class.

As the professor finally dismissed class after what felt like an eternity, you shut your notebook and picked it up off of the table, ready to rush back to your room and indulge in a much-needed nap. Before you could shove your belongings into your backpack and rush out of the room, Yoongi’s voice cut you off.

“Hey, do you have the notes from last class?” he asked, folding his hands together as he offered you a small smile. “I was, uh, sick.”

Although his half-assed excuse was clearly complete bullshit, you weren’t exactly in the mood to cause a scene and knew you were more likely to get out of the room faster if you just caved in and let him have at it rather than force him to beg. “Yeah, sure,” you muttered, opening your notebook to your notes from the previous class and plopping it down in front of him. “Knock yourself out.” You wished he literally would.

Digging his phone out of his pocket and opening the camera, Yoongi glanced down at the notes before side-eyeing you with what initially appeared to be an authentic smile spreading across his plump lips. “You know, I saw something earlier that I think might interest you.”

Was Min Yoongi actually trying to start a genuine conversation with you? Intriguing, to say the least. Crossing your arms over your chest, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? What was it?”

His eyes flickered back down to your notes, the once seemingly genuine smile on his lips morphing into a devious smirk. “I saw a flyer earlier about an art contest happening on campus,” he replied a bit too casually, beginning to take pictures of your notes. “I’m sure they’d be extremely interested in the artistry and precision of your history gen-ed notes. Truly a masterpiece.”

Any momentary hope you had of Yoongi not being an asshole diminished in that instant, your hands immediately reaching down to rip your notebook out of the view of his phone camera and slamming it shut. “You’re a dick,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you stormed past him. “Get the notes from someone else.”

As you rushed out of the now empty classroom, you missed the way Yoongi’s once amused expression changed into a frown, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck in frustration at himself.

On a Wednesday one month into the semester, you were having arguably one of the worst days of the year. As syllabus week was long over, the workload in your classes had increased exponentially overnight and you were left feeling exhausted and overwhelmed. Having gotten into an unwarranted fight with one of your more difficult housemates the night before, you had gone to bed frustrated and forgot to set an alarm. While this would not have been an issue on a regular Wednesday, you had forgotten that you had an interview scheduled with a potential employer for a job after your senior year would inevitably come to an end. Having apparently been in desperate need of some extra sleep, you didn’t become conscious until approximately 11:45am, fifteen minutes before your history lecture and long after the interview that had been set for 9:00am.

Tears threatened to sting your eyes as you rushed out of bed, quickly becoming aware of the weight of the situation you had fallen into. How could you be so irresponsible and miss the opportunity to get hired for a position in your field? So many seniors already had jobs secured for the summer even though it was only October of the fall semester. You were a mess.

These negative thoughts only became louder as you rushed across campus toward the lecture hall, glancing down for a moment to take in your appearance. You were sporting a pair of black joggers and an oversized hoodie that belonged to your best friend, Kim Taehyung. In addition to this already rather unpleasant sight, you hadn’t had the time to do your skincare routine or makeup, and your bedhead was thrown into a messy bun on the top of your head, threatening to fall out of the elastic at any moment. As someone who usually was well put together, you were extremely uncomfortable with roaming the campus with your current appearance. The lethal combination of your messy appearance and the chaotic night and morning you had experienced had you feeling quite insecure as you finally rushed into your lecture hall with twenty seconds to spare, sinking down into your seat with your eyes low.

Just as you thought the morning couldn’t get any worse, the presence beside you just had to make himself known. “All dressed up for me?” Yoongi asked sarcastically, smirking as he looked you up and down. “I thought ‘some of us enjoy putting effort into our appearance.’”

While on any regular day Yoongi’s sarcastic comments were enough to get under your skin, today they proved to be unbearable. Slamming your notebook down on the table in front of you, you twisted your whole body to face the amused boy. “Can you just leave me the fuck alone? For once?” you snapped a bit too loudly, noticing the way that a few of your classmates turned to look at the pair of you. Before you could wish for the ground to swallow you up in that instant, your professor started to speak to begin class, snapping everyone’s attention away from you. Swallowing to yourself, you turned to face forward, keeping your head low as you stared down at your notebook.

With your eyes averted, you didn’t notice the way that Yoongi’s expression fell and he stared at the side of your face with such deep concern that you weren’t even aware he was capable of feeling, wondering what he had done to make you that upset. Was he really that intolerable?

About fifteen minutes into class, the sound of your phone vibrating next to your books snapped you out of your daze. As your eyes scanned over the screen, your heart sank down to your stomach.

mom (12:16pm): Hey honey, how’d the interview go? Bet you crushed it xo :)

The tears you had managed to hold back on your way to class were now stinging at the corners of your eyes. Fucking up your own life was one thing, but disappointing your parents who had such high expectations of you and often talked about you with so much pride was another whole ballpark. The thought of having to break the news to your sweet mother that you had fucked up yet again made you feel sick to your stomach.

As the first tears escaped your eyes and slid down your cheeks into visibility, you quickly shut your notebook and shuffled to your feet on shaky legs, not even bothering to shove your belongings into your backpack. Ignoring the puzzled looks you were receiving from your classmates, especially Yoongi, you stormed out of the lecture hall and didn’t stop moving until you pushed your way into the nearest bathroom. The moment the door of the single-stall closed shut, you slid down the side of the door and put your face in your hands.

Of course you knew this would all pass. Of course you would figure things out with your housemate. Of course you could try to reschedule the interview, or even just apply to other jobs if that didn’t work out. Of course you could just explain things to your mom. But college had a funny way of throwing so many things at you at once that sometimes it was hard to think straight and see things clearly. Sometimes you just had to cry for a little bit to let out some of the stress. So that was precisely what you did.

When you finally were able to compose yourself at least a bit, you fished your phone out of your pocket, immediately dialing the number of the only person you felt comfortable talking to at the moment. There was no way you were going back into that lecture hall after the scene you had caused.

“Hey, what’s up?” Taehyung’s deep voice sounded through the speaker, the low tone immediately sending a sense of comfort through your body.

Inhaling deeply, you rose to your feet and wiped the last of the tears from the corners of your eyes with the sleeve of the hoodie that happened to belong to the boy on the other end of the phone. “Hey, can I come over?” you asked, sniffling quietly. “Your place is closer than mine and I’m kind of a mess right now.”

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine concern laced in his voice. He sensed your apprehension in discussing your problems over the phone and decided to speak up again. “Actually, you don’t need to answer that right now. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” You could hear him shuffling around on the other end. “I was actually just about to text you. I finally cleaned my place and found some of your clothes from when we used to, you know… Do the dirty.”

For the first time that day, a giggle forced itself through your lips. What an absurd way to refer to your past attempts at a friends with benefit situation with Taehyung. The two of you had been friends since freshman year of college, or even before that if you wanted to be specific. Having been in the same orientation group the summer before starting college, the boy with the boxy grin was an immediate standout to you. After being placed together by your orientation leader in a partner activity, you discovered that you had a lot of the same interests and the same, twisted sense of humor. From that moment on, the two of you vowed to stick together through the ups and downs of college. Apart from sticking together academically by taking most of the same literature classes together, you acted as each other’s emotional support system. Whether it be a bad grade on an assignment, a painful breakup, or even a miserable hangover, you were there for each other. Sometime during the beginning of your sophomore year when both of you were going through breakups and wanted to get laid without catching feelings for someone else, you struck up a friends with benefits deal that lasted all the way through the middle of your junior year. The deal served its purpose well; the sex was good and there were no feelings involved, despite the concerns of some of your friends. It was mutually ended when you both decided that you were ready to put yourselves out there romantically again. There was no awkwardness for either of you. The friendship remained as strong as ever and you were grateful to have someone as supportive as Taehyung in your life.

“Good, I could use a change of clothes right now,” you responded, finally working up the nerve to exit the bathroom and make your way out of the building. “You’re the best. I’ll be there in 10.”

As always, Taehyung knew just how to cheer you up. Immediately upon your arrival, he insisted you take a hot shower to allow yourself to calm down alone for a bit. To your delight, he had discovered one of your cute black t-shirts and a pair of ripped mom jeans you had been looking for forever while cleaning his room, allowing you to change out of the dreadful outfit you had been wearing earlier. After combing your hair and putting the emergency makeup in your backpack to use, you were back to looking like a presentable human being and returned to Taehyung, plopping down beside him on his bed and resting your head comfortably on his chest.

Taehyung knew how to calm you down unlike anyone else in your life. He allowed you to rant for nearly an hour, only chiming in when you asked for his advice or to offer words of comfort and encouragement. By the end of the conversation, you were left feeling much more relaxed and acknowledged that none of the issues that you found yourself in were irreparable.

Glancing down at your phone, you sat up straight as you noticed the time. “Shit, I have class in twenty minutes. I should get going in a few.”

Taehyung sat up beside you, reaching his arms overhead to stretch with a loud yawn. It had become quite clear to you that he had skipped all of his classes today by his disheveled hair and his boxer-clad body. “Are you feeling better now?”

Nodding, you flashed him a small smile as you rose to your feet and took the opportunity to stretch out your own body. “Yes, much. Thanks, Tae,” you praised, glancing at yourself in the mirror and fixing a few messy strands of hair. “Honestly, I think I would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for that asshole Yoongi.”

“Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi?” Taehyung questioned, authentic interest laced into his voice.

“Mhmm, that’s the one.”

“Hmm, interesting. Namjoon’s been hanging out with him a bit now that he’s gotten closer to Hoseok. I think they’re doing some sort of music thing together. He’s brought him around here a few times recently,” the boy informed you, finally rising to his feet to stand beside you. “He seemed cool, but if he’s an asshole to you I won’t hesitate to kick his ass.”

Hmm. Now that was some interesting information. Namjoon was one of Taehyung’s two roommates, Jimin being the other one. Seokjin had lived with them in previous years, but his room was left vacant after he had graduated the previous year. Still living nearby and remaining close to all of you, he often visited on the weekends to fill the void.

That wasn’t your concern though. Namjoon was Taehyung’s sweet, clumsy dork of a roommate that you had also grown close to over the years. After meeting Hoseok the previous semester through Namjoon, their friendship made sense. Hoseok was loud, bubbly, and impossible to hate. The boy didn’t have a bad bone in his body. How the fuck did Yoongi fit into the mix?

Snapping back into reality, you giggled to yourself and pulled your concerned best friend into a tight hug. “Don’t worry about it, Tae. He just says stupid shit to get under my skin and today I was extra vulnerable. Nothing major,” you reassured, giving him a squeeze. “Thanks again for listening to me. I’ll text you after class to get dinner or something.”

“If you say sooooo,” Taehyung drawled, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of your head. “Of course. I’ll see you later.”

Flashing him one last grateful smile, you turned on your heel and pushed open the door of his bedroom, quietly closing it behind you. The peaceful scenery of Taehyung’s bedroom was greatly contrasted with what was occurring in the common area, and nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to face.

“Y/N! I thought I heard you show up earlier,” Namjoon shouted out to you from behind the kitchen counter, offering you a warm, dimpled smile.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Joon,” you replied sincerely, returning the smile. As you approached the kitchen, your eyes took in the faces of the familiar figures before you. Namjoon… Jimin… Hoseok… No.

No fucking way. It was as if Taehyung’s comment about Namjoon’s new friendship just moments prior had been a warning to you, because there before you stood Min fucking Yoongi right beside Hoseok. It was evident by the look on his face that he had spotted you before you noticed his presence. Rather than sporting his signature smirk, his mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide with what could only be shock. If you had allowed your gaze to remain on him a bit longer, maybe you would have noticed the genuine concern and sympathy in his eyes as he stared back at you.

“It’s because Tae hogs her and barely lets us have any time with her,” Jimin commented, chuckling as he glanced down at his phone for a moment. “Oh, before I forget, Y/N… Jungkook needs a model for his photography project and told me to ask you for him because he’s too nervous to ask you himself.”

Namjoon laughed to himself, shaking his head. “I see Jungkook is still trying to live out his noona kink.”

Giggling to yourself, you rolled your eyes as you fully entered the kitchen and grabbed your backpack off of the stool where you had left it earlier. Your friends were referring to Jeon Jungkook, a current sophomore who had found his way into your circle of friends early on in his freshman year after taking a few classes with Namjoon and Jimin. The two of you weren’t particularly close as you typically only saw him on the weekends and in passing, but he was a friendly addition to the group. Despite hearing about how popular he was with the sophomore girls, you found it hard to believe. Every time Jungkook was around you, he seemed to turn into a nervous, stuttering mess, much to the rest of the boys’ enjoyment.

“Leave my little Kookie alone. He’s an angel,” you responded, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. “Tell him of course I’ll do it.”

“Phew, I think he’d pass out if I told him you referred to him as your Kookie,” Namjoon pestered on, nosily glancing over Jimin’s shoulder in amusement as the shorter boy typed out the news to Jungkook.

“I will be leaving that part out for now.” Jimin chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket before his eyes met yours again. “Oh, I don’t know if Tae told you yet, but we’re planning on throwing a little party Friday night. You should come, Y/N.” Little party. Whenever Jimin claimed he was just throwing a “little party,” it was often anything but little.

Taehyung had not told you yet, but you weren’t exactly surprised as he was a bit of a scatter brain when it came to remembering minute details. Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest. “We’ll see.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, moving closer to shove his shoulder against yours. “We all know that’s your way of trying to appease us momentarily and then end up not showing up. Come on, Y/N.”

Jimin stuck out his lower lip, clasping his hands together to plead. “Pleaaase, Y/N. You never party with us anymore like you used to. We miss you.”

“If not for us, do it for Tae,” Namjoon argued, poking your cheek. “Or even for your little Kookie.”

Dramatically shaking your head, you shoved Namjoon back as you rolled your eyes. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Hmm, you better.”

A moment of silence fell upon the group before you were forced back into the reality of the current situation that you were trying to avoid.

“Oh shit, sorry Y/N. I’m being rude,” Hoseok interrupted from the other side of the counter, offering you a sheepish smile. “This is my friend Yoongi. I’ve finally been managing to drag him out to hang out with some of my friends. Quite the antisocial one here.”

Ah. How could you forget he was here? Also, antisocial? Hilarious. The boy in question never kept his big mouth shut around you. The look of pure discomfort that spread across Yoongi’s face when Hoseok brought the silent boy to your attention caused you to feel nothing but pure joy.

“Oh, no worries at all, Hobi,” you replied sweetly, flashing the boy an all-too-pleasant smile. “Yoongi and I have actually already had the pleasure of meeting. Isn’t that right, Yoongi?”

Nothing pleased you more than witnessing the look of sheer panic plastered across Yoongi’s face as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. His typical overly confident persona was gone; he was now putty in your hands and you loved the feeling of being in control for once. If only this moment could last forever.

“Uh, yeah we have,” Yoongi muttered, attempting to appease Hoseok’s confused face with a not-so-convincing smile. “We have history class together this semester.”

“History?” Hoseok’s eyes glanced back and forth between the two of you, as if trying to process something. At last, they settled on Yoongi. “Weren’t you just telling me you made some girl cry in history class today?”

If Yoongi hadn’t been mortified before, he surely was now. It almost seemed as if his face was frozen, his eyes and mouth all wide in the shape of an ‘o.’ Just as you thought this interaction could not possibly get any more uncomfortable for Yoongi, his eyes flickered away from yours to move behind you. Whatever it was that he saw left him looking even more disoriented, earning an amused smirk from you.

At last the sight Yoongi had observed made his presence known to you, Taehyung’s voice causing you to spin around on your heel to face him. “Guys, let Y/N go to class in peace. She’s had a rough day.”

You had to bite down on your tongue to avoid the laughter that was threatening to force its way through your lips. As your eyes raked up and down Taehyung’s body, you were quite aware of why Yoongi had looked so stunned just moments before. Taehyung stood before the group just as he had beside you in his bedroom a few minutes ago, hair a complete mess and sporting nothing but a pair of tight boxers. Although the sight was nothing unusual to you and most of the boys, you knew by Yoongi’s expression that he had assumed that you and Taehyung had been hooking up before you emerged into the kitchen. Even though it was false, you found yourself enjoying the current situation immensely. You were well aware by the way Yoongi usually teased and belittled you in class that he perceived you as the quiet, innocent type, and you knew this scene would cause him to question everything. How good it felt to be the one making Yoongi feel like shit for once.

“Tae, don’t worry about it. We were just talking,” you assured him, reaching up to ruffle his messy hair. While this act of affection was typical for the two of you, you knew it would be perceived differently in Yoongi’s eyes. “But I do actually have to go to class now. I’ll see you guys around, okay?”

The sound of various “goodbyes” and “we better see you at the party” filled your ears as you turned on your heel, but not before taking one last glance at Yoongi, knowing this was likely the last time you would have the pleasure of seeing the confident boy looking so distraught. His eyebrows were knit together as he frantically looked you up and down, almost as if he was trying to search for the quiet, jittery girl he was used to seeing in class. Although you knew this newfound confidence you were feeling surrounded by your group of close friends probably wouldn’t last when you saw him alone in class on Friday, you allowed yourself to indulge in this little victory where he was the one looking like the fool.

Directing one last small smirk at the confused boy, you finally approached the door and slipped out. The moment you exited the building and walked toward the academic quad, you couldn’t hold back the laughter you had been keeping in for what felt like an eternity. The unfortunate events of the morning had been long forgotten; you had achieved your first victory of the day and it was a big one for you.

When you finally slipped into your classroom with five minutes to spare, you took a moment to retrieve your phone out of your bag, blinking in confusion at all of the texts you had received in just a few minutes.

kookie (2:49pm): thanks for agreeing to help me w my project!!! :)

kookie (2:49pm): i promise it won’t be too much work for you

kookie (2:50pm): sorry for being a loser and not asking you myself

kookie (2:50pm): hopefully i’ll see you friday night? :)

Aw. What a cutie. Now onto the rest of your texts.

tae tae (2:51pm): yoongi will not stop asking us questions about you

tae tae (2:51pm): he asked if me and you were dating and then got confused when we all laughed

tae tae (2:52pm): also suspiciously curious about who jungkook is

tae tae (2:52pm): now he’s asking all about how long we’ve been friends for. wtf is he trying to get at

tae tae (2:55pm): ya know i think he has a crush on you or something

You let out an exasperated gasp as you read the last text, barely believing your eyes. Yoongi, the boy who managed to make every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at noon unbearable for you without fail for the past month, having a crush on you? The thought was laughable.

Before you could type out an adequate response to such absurdity, your phone buzzed again.

jiminie (2:56pm): so what’s the deal w you and yoongi? seems ~steamy~ 👀

jiminie (2:56pm): i feel like he somehow knows i’m texting about him

jiminie (2:56pm): he’s glaring at me

jiminie (2:57pm): didn’t take you as one to go for the intimidating ones hmm

jimine (2:57pm): i’ll let kookie know he has to be scarier

It was understandable for Taehyung to have such irrational ideas, but now Jimin too? If your friends saw the way he talked to you in class, they would be laughing at themselves too. Someone grab these boys their clown suits.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you locked your phone without responding to either of your friends. That would be an issue for a later time.

The next two days rolled by rather smoothly. Your housemate had apologized to you after realizing that she had overreacted for yelling at you for leaving your dishes in the sink when you were busy with homework, you had managed to get the missed interview rescheduled, and you had explained the situation to your understanding mother. Most importantly, it was now Friday and you were more than ready for the weekend. Things seemed to be finally falling back into order.

After getting an early lunch with one of your friends before your class at noon, you found yourself with fifteen minutes to spare before your class and it didn’t seem worthwhile to try to go back to your house or even the library. It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit early for class.

When you finally entered the lecture hall from the back, the sight before you caused you to come to an immediate halt. As it was still quite early, the class was empty all except for one person who you could identify even from behind due to his bright, bleached blonde hair. What the fuck was Min Yoongi doing fifteen minutes early to class? It was generous to even expect him to show up a whole minute before start time. This was unprecedented.

You momentarily considered turning on your heel and leaving the room until right before noon, but it would be too much of a hassle to find somewhere to sit outside and the sound of the door closing behind you had already notified him that someone else was in the room. As you accepted your fate and began to walk down the aisle, your eyes stopped on the space in front of your usual seat. There in front of your seat sat a large coffee. Had somebody already taken your seat? Was Yoongi saving your seat for someone else to avoid you after your last interaction on Wednesday?

Working up the nerve, you continued to walk closer, only stopping once you were right in front of Yoongi. The confidence you had found around your friends on Wednesday had seemed to diminish. Before you could even allow yourself to take in the nervous expression on his face, you forced yourself to speak. “Hey, did somebody take my seat?”

Yoongi blinked a couple times in confusion before his eyes wandered over to the coffee in front of your seat, a sense of comprehension taking over his features. The calm expression on his face didn’t last. Suddenly, the same anxious Yoongi you had experienced in Taehyung’s kitchen was back, his cheeks heating up and his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. You had noticed that was a nervous habit of his. Clearing his throat, he shook his head before finally attempting to clear up the confusion. “Uh, no…” His eyes darted around the area, moving anywhere but to your own. “It’s for you… The coffee.”

The confusion certainly was not cleared up by his answer, and you were left feeling even more puzzled. Why had Yoongi bought you a coffee? And why did he seem so nervous about it? Glancing down at the venti cup in front of you, you picked it up and examined the label on the side. Venti iced caramel latte with almond milk and less ice, it read. Wait a minute. How did he know your exact order, down to the less ice?

Furrowing your brow, you crossed your arms over your chest and continued to glare at the clearly uncomfortable Yoongi, much to his dismay. “How do you know my exact coffee order?”

Yoongi’s cheeks flushed darker, his hands reaching down as he grabbed his backpack off of the ground and attempted to distract himself by zipping it open and looking for his notebook for a bit too long. “I zone out in class a lot and have happened to zone out on your coffee a few times so I happened to remember.” When you stood your ground and refused to assume your seat next to his, his eyes finally met yours. It seemed as if though he was trying to put on an irritated front, but you could see right through it. “Just sit down and drink it, okay?”

After standing still and staring at him for a few moments longer just to further his discomfort, you finally let your arms fall to your sides and walked behind him to plop down in your seat. Jabbing the straw into the top of the unexpected cup of coffee, you took a long sip. Ah, the sweet sensation of caffeine flowing through your veins. Almost as sweet as the feeling of a highly uncomfortable Yoongi sitting beside you.

You were well aware that he was waiting for you to speak first. He was most definitely waiting for you to ask him why he got you the coffee. He was also likely wishing you’d bring up Wednesday before he had to. However, the knowledge of his discomfort made you hold off. If he wanted to talk about it, he would have to initiate the conversation. You were enjoying this role reversal just a bit too much.

After a few more moments in silence, Yoongi finally let out a defeated sigh and fully turned his body to face yours. It was quite apparent by the distressed expression on his face that he had been having a battle with himself in his head to work up the courage to speak. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I got you coffee?” Ah, the male species was so predictable.

Taking another long sip from the coffee just to make him wait a bit longer, you quirked an eyebrow at him, feigning innocence. “Am I supposed to?”

“Well, I mean, yeah. I would expect you to be curious.” Running a hand through his hair, he allowed his eyes to scan over your face. When he realized you weren’t budging, he let out yet another sigh. Poor guy. “It’s an apology, okay? I wanted to say I’m sorry for Wednesday. You know, when you, um… Cried. I was just joking around and had no idea I would upset you so much and I felt like a complete asshole. I followed you when you ran out and tried to find you to see if you were okay, but you really disappeared. I just… I know I’m not good with this kind of thing but I’m sorry.”

Clasping your hands together over your drink, you allowed yourself a moment to process all that was just thrown at you. Not only was Yoongi apologizing to you, but did he just admit that he chased after you to try to comfort you after he saw you cry? That seemed all too out of character for someone who was known for being overly confident and priding himself in his ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ attitude.

Gnawing on your lower lip, you allowed yourself to take in his current state. As he had told you, he clearly wasn’t very good at whatever “this” was. What was “this” exactly? Was it him having to apologize? Or simply him having to not be a complete dick to you for more than thirty seconds? Regardless, it was evident that he was being genuine. His hand continued to rake through his hair, causing it to stick up in various directions. Although his eyes were finally fixated on yours, the expression on his face communicated to you that he wished the ground would swallow him up at any moment. It was strange seeing him this stressed for so long, but it was a welcomed change. You knew all too well what it felt like to be so on edge, so you found yourself starting to feel a bit bad for him. Maybe you could take it easy on him. You had already felt the satisfaction of seeing him lose his ego for at least a little while, and that was enough for you.

Sighing to yourself, you shook your head and offered him a small smile. “It’s fine, really. Wasn’t even really your fault,” you assured him, reaching down into your backpack and fishing out your notebook as you noticed some of the other students finally started to file into the lecture hall. “I had a lot going on and you just happened to be the one to set me off.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi’s eyes trailed up and down your face as if he was trying to speculate if you were telling the truth or not. Why did he suddenly care so much about your feelings? “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, why you were so upset and all…”

Furrowing your brow, you opened your notebook to a fresh sheet of paper. “Uh, no. Not really. Talking like that isn’t exactly something we do,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. It almost felt like he was trying to pry into your life, and you weren’t sure why. As your relationship– if you could even call it that– was strictly limited to unwanted banter and insults from Yoongi, you didn’t exactly feel comfortable opening up to him about your problems. A pity coffee wasn’t enough to convince you otherwise. “I already had the chance to rant about it anyway.”

Yoongi was silent for a moment as he copied your actions, opening his own notebook and distracting himself by flipping through various scantily-covered pages. “Ah, with Taehyung?”

You sensed a tinge of judgment in his voice, causing you to recollect the events of Wednesday. It was clear that your perception had been correct; the tone of Yoongi’s voice insinuated that he believed something was going on between you and Taehyung. Apparently whatever Taeyung and the other boys had told him after you had left wasn’t enough to change his mind. His judgment was a valid one, even expected, but his apparent need to ask you about it was not. What did it matter to him?

“Yes, with Tae,” you replied simply, watching the way he doodled in the margins of his notebook. “He is my best friend, afterall.”

“Oh, my bad. Wasn’t aware he was ‘Tae’ to you,” Yoongi spoke up quickly, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I think we have different definitions of what a ‘best friend’ is, though.” Ah, there he was. The insolent Yoongi you had come to know and despise.

Rolling your eyes, you unknowingly pushed the coffee he had bought you further away, almost as if to symbolize that he was becoming repulsive to you yet again. “I’m not quite convinced anyone would want to be your best friend anyway,” you snapped back, clicking open your pen. “So was the coffee really an apology or just an excuse to pry into my life?”

“No, no. It really was an apology,” he answered right away, pushing the coffee closer to you again in response. “I’m just curious. I guess my initial impression of you wasn’t entirely right.”

Now that was enough to get your full attention again. Yoongi sure seemed to have a lot to think and say about you. Raising an eyebrow, you hesitantly took another sip from your coffee. “I wasn’t aware you had any impression of me to begin with.”

Yoongi chuckled to himself and shook his head, almost as if in disbelief of what you had just said. “Oh, I have had a lot of thoughts about you. I’ll keep them to myself, for your sake.” If you hadn’t blinked, you would’ve noticed the way his eyes momentarily flickered down to your lips as they wrapped around the straw of your coffee. “However, don’t worry. I had it right that you’re a nerd who’s always going out of her way to do a bit much, and I stand by that.”

Scoffing to yourself, you slammed your drink down yet again. “And you’re still an incessant asshole who pries into my life for absolutely no reason.” Your eyes flickered to the front of the room as your professor took his place behind the podium. “And I stand by that.”

Yoongi laughed a bit louder this time, clearly unbothered as he nodded his head at you as he turned his body to face the front of the class. “Fair enough.”

Class seemed to fly by in a breeze, the majority of the lecture taken up by your professor outlining the content that would be on your first exam in the following week. It was a lot of information, but you were confident that it wouldn’t be too challenging if you gave yourself enough time to study. However, that was a problem for next week. This weekend had to be about unwinding and giving yourself the proper amount of time to let go and relax.

Shoving your contents into your backpack, you were snapped out of your post-class daze by the sound of Yoongi’s low voice. “Any fun plans this weekend?”

Blinking a few times to wake yourself back up, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and eyed the boy in front of you. It was very unlike him to attempt to start a casual conversation with you, especially after class (that is, unless he was asking you for your notes). His odd behavior was continuing to surprise you. “Uh, not sure…” you answered, taking a moment to push in your chair. “Might need to make an appearance at a party tonight so my friends don’t kill me, but that’s about it.”

“Ah, the life of the party here.” Yoongi snickered, flashing you a lop-sided smirk before raising his hand slightly to give you a lackluster wave. “See you around.” With that, he spun around and quickly disappeared out of the lecture hall.

What an odd afternoon.

And you sure did see him around. Much sooner than you would have liked, if you were being perfectly honest.

To your dismay, your lame excuses of “I’m sick” and “I have other plans” did not work on your friends, and they left you feeling guilty for trying to get out of going to their party. Along with that, none of your housemates were particularly in the mood to go out, conceding that they’d much rather just stay in and watch a movie after such a chaotic week.

So that was precisely how you found yourself alone in the back of an Uber on the way to Taehyung’s house, discreetly trying to take shots out of a plastic water bottle filled with some old raspberry-flavored vodka that tasted closer to nail polish remover. As painful as it was trying to hold in your gags so your Uber driver didn’t notice, you knew you couldn’t show up to the function sober. Your friends were probably already ten rounds in.

As if on cue, your phone started to vibrate against your thigh, gladly distracting you from having to take another shot of poison.

joon (10:01pm): you better get your ass over here rn

joon (10:01pm): it’s still just all of us pregaming together and we want you here before everyone else shows up

joon (10:02pm): jimin is already absolutely plastered

jiminie (10:02pm): um nit thst drink theyre bing mwan to me

jiminie (10:02pm): cum here niw nd guv me s hug ;(

jiminie (10:03pm): o uiongi ia here too

Laughing to yourself as you didn’t even try to decipher the complete nonsense Jimin sent you, you glanced out the window as the car slowed to a stop in front of your destination. After thanking your driver and sliding out of the car, you rose to your feet and smoothed out your lace top and black leather skirt. It had been a while since you had allowed yourself to get all dressed up like this. As you approached the door, you couldn’t help but notice the warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach and the head rush you felt from standing up so quickly. Ah, the lovely effects of alcohol.

Before you could even ring the doorbell or text one of the boys that you had arrived, the door was swung open aggressively, revealing a grinning Seokjin holding a half-empty bottle of tequila in his free hand. “Y/N! I almost didn’t believe them when they said you were coming,” he cheered, pulling you inside and engulfing you in a tight hug. Pulling back a bit to look at you, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “And I can tell you already started drinking. The old Y/N is back!”

“Hey, I knew I had to have a few shots beforehand if I was going to be able to tolerate all of you,” you joked, playfully shoving his chest. Your eyes wandered upward as he held the bottle of tequila up as an offering over your mouth, quirking a challenging eyebrow at you. Rolling your eyes, you leaned down and opened your mouth beneath the bottle, allowing him to pour a generous amount of the potent liquid into your mouth. As you swallowed, you noted how it went down without much misery. That was usually a good sign that you were tipsy.

“Taking it like a champ!” Seokjin chanted, draping an arm over your shoulders as he took another long swig from the bottle. “We should probably head in there before the guys get mad at me for keeping you to myself.”

“Good idea.” You giggled, affectionately wrapping an arm around his waist for support.

Before the two of you could even round the corner, you were stopped by a stumbling Jimin who practically threw himself onto your body, curling his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair. “Y/N, you’re finally here,” he slurred out, his fingers digging into the skin on your lower back. Seokjin gave you an apologetic look before chuckling to himself and leaving the two of you alone. “Did you get my texts?” He kept his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled back a bit to meet your eyes, flashing you a huge grin with half-lidded eyes. God he was plastered, but you were just tipsy enough to enjoy his affection.

“Yes, and I see you’ve already claimed your hug,” you greeted with a giggle, poking one of his dimples. “That was about all I could make out from the complete nonsense you were sending me.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he grabbed your hand from his face, messily intertwining his fingers with yours. Leaning in, his lips brushed against your ears. “You got my text that Yoongi is here, right?” he attempted a whisper, but his voice came out quite a bit louder than that.

It took a moment for your buzzed brain to fully comprehend the meaning behind his words. Once they finally sunk in, your eyes widened. Sure Yoongi was close with Namjoon and was beginning to bond with the other boys, but what exactly was he doing here? Wouldn’t he have brought it up earlier when you told him you were probably going to be stopping by the party? Why couldn’t this guy make sense for once?

When your thoughts finally subsided and the shot you had taken just a couple minutes before started to set in, you simply decided to squeeze Jimin’s hand and offer him a warm smile. “It’s fine, Jimin. We’re fine.”

“Nooo, you don’t understaaaand,” Jimin drawled out, completely giving up on trying to whisper this time. The music was loud enough anyway that there was likely no need to worry. “He told Hoseok and Namjoon last weekend that there was absolutely no chance he’d show up to our party. He hates parties,” he explained, reaching down to grab your other hand as well. “Now all of a sudden this afternoon he decided he was on board. Me, Namjoon, and Tae have a conspiracy theory that he’s only here because he found out you’re gonna be here.” Jimin’s eyes closed shut for a few moments and he stumbled back slightly, catching his balance at the last moment. “Woooow, I’m drunk.”

You weren’t going to overthink this. You were not going to let Min Yoongi ruin your one night to relax and have a good time. Sure he did find out that you were likely going to be here when you told him this afternoon, but that was obviously a mere coincidence. Perhaps he had just decided to not be a stick in the mud for once in his life and try to let go. That was definitely it. Wrapping an arm around Jimin’s waist to steady him, you began to walk towards the chaos that was likely occurring in the next room over. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s go have some fun and get you some water before you’re puking all over everything before people even start showing up.”

“Water.” Jimin chuckled to himself as he unsteadily followed by your side, leaning much of his weight into you. “That’s cute. You’re cute.”

Rolling your eyes, you guided the two of you into the kitchen, immediately being met with a parade of loud cheers from the six other guys who had been waiting for you (probably five cheering voices, since you weren’t exactly convinced Yoongi was involved). Speaking of Yoongi, although you refused to meet his eyes just yet, you could feel his eyes burning through you. While this action would usually make you quite uneasy and jittery, the alcohol was doing you another favor by allowing you to brush it off.

“It’s about time.” Taehyung flashed you his signature boxy grin and draped an arm over your shoulders. “What was going on over there? Were you and Jimin having a secret meeting or something?”

Reaching up to ruffle his hair, you nodded and smirked. “Yeah, actually we were…” you trailed off, your eyes setting on the various handles of liquor spread across the counter. “We were actually discussing how you’re a bitch if you don’t take a shot with me right now.”

There was an uproar of “ohhhh’s” from most of the boys that echoed throughout the whole room, followed by Taehyung’s booming laughter. “Wow, I forgot how much I love feisty, drunk Y/N,” he commented, lining up two shot glasses on the counter and filling them with what was either silver tequila or another random flavored vodka. God you were going to hate yourself in the morning for mixing so many different types of alcohol if you didn’t slow down soon. After handing one of the glasses to you, he clinked his against yours. “Cheers to you.”

Giggling to yourself, you downed the shot, noting how it went down even easier than the one before. You were in trouble if you kept moving at this pace. However, you were aware that the house would be filling up with people outside of your immediate friend group shortly and that was enough reason to keep drinking. As was Min Yoongi’s burning presence.

“I still haven’t forgotten about that party last time when you and Jimin beat me by one cup in beer pong,” Namjoon directed at you, chuckling to himself as he shook his head. “Rematch now. I’m taking Hoseok this time.”

“Ah, sore loser,” you retorted, sticking your tongue out at him. Your eyes wandered over to Jimin who was leaning against the refrigerator with his eyes closed, no glass of water in sight. He clearly was not beer pong partner material at the moment. Continuing to weigh your options, you noticed the way that Yoongi stared at you with his arms crossed over his chest and a raised eyebrow, almost as if he was challenging you to choose him. You were too into this whole barely acknowledging his presence game to pick that route. Finally, your eyes settled on an oblivious (or maybe nervous) Jungkook who was nursing a cup of beer in one hand and mindlessly staring down at his phone in the other. Perfect. Walking around Taehyung, you approached the younger boy and poked your finger into his side. “Kookie, let’s kick some ass.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noted the way Yoongi’s eyes remained on you, but they became colder the moment those last words left your mouth.

“How daaaare you pick another partner?” Jimin scoffed, his eyes still closed as he wobbled to the side, catching his balance on the counter. Oh boy. God help whoever was stuck taking care of him tonight.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and his mouth fell into an ‘o’ as his eyes finally met yours, his fingers fumbling around his phone and almost causing it to fall. “M-Me?” he questioned, his cheeks becoming rosier by the second. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” You smiled and wrapped your arm around his waist, resting your head against his arm fondly. “I help you with your photography project, you help me maintain my pride.”

“O-Okay…” Jungkook’s arm stiffened in surprise at first, but he forced the nerves away and smiled warmly at you and hesitantly draped his arm over your shoulders. As Namjoon and Hoseok led the way into the other room with the beer pong table, the younger boy guided the two of you behind them. “Anything for you.”

Not only did the music drown out the sound of Jimin hurling into the kitchen sink, it also did a good job at masking the sound of Yoongi’s scoff and the way he immediately downed his full drink.

Despite Namjoon’s cocky attitude, you and Jungkook proved to be an unstoppable match, beating the other pair three games in a row. The party proved to be a lot more fun than you had expected and would ever dare to give your friends credit for. Shortly after you had started your first game of beer pong, the other friends and acquaintances of the boys started to file in. It seemed like the guests never stopped arriving and those who came never wanted to leave. Even after nearly three hours, the house was still quite full. Although still quite tipsy, you found yourself hungry and tired, longing for your bed and a box of pizza. Taehyung had suggested you just stay the night to avoid ubering back by yourself so late at night, but you were sick of the noise and mess. Your social battery was quickly running out.

Sighing to yourself, you closed the front door of the house behind you and sat down on one of the front steps. Staring off into the darkness, you started to plot your escape. You didn’t want Taehyung or any of the other boys to worry about you too much, but you knew that they would immediately notice if you were gone for too long.

Before you could think too much, your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing yet again. Instead of watching the backs of another group of guests leaving, you felt somebody plop down beside you on the step. As you looked to the side, your breath hitched in your throat. “You good?” Yoongi asked, tired eyes searching your face.

God, if your social battery was already on low, you couldn’t even imagine how long ago Yoongi’s had run out. You were shocked he had stayed nearly this long. His tired eyes pleaded with yours, perhaps begging you to not make a fuss and just be civil with him for once. Biting your lip, you nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, looking off to stare into the street lights again. “Just exhausted and in desperate need of some quiet and some food.”

“God, I feel you. I think I’m going to have an eternal headache.” Yoongi chuckled to himself, letting out a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed so… Calm. So… Normal. It was a bit jarring, but comforting at the same time. “I don’t think you’re going to find any restaurant open right now, but I ordered pizza for dinner and have a lot left over at my place that I’m willing to share. It’s also definitely quiet there.” The words seemed to roll off of his lips so casually, as if this was something common for the two of you when it was anything but that.

Turning your head to look at him, you raised an eyebrow. As you scanned his face, you couldn’t find any traces of disingenuity; it seemed as if he really intended to invite you over his place to hang out as if you were friends. While this would have been intriguing on any normal day, it was extra intriguing with the bit of alcohol’s effects remaining in your body and your deep desire to leave the party. Finally, you asked, “What’s the catch?”

“Hmm…” The corner of Yoongi’s lips perked up the slightest bit, his teeth digging into his tongue to prevent himself from laughing. “The catch is you have to spend time with me. I can see how that might be difficult for you, especially after you’ve spent the whole night avoiding me.”

Your eyes widened as you looked away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You hadn’t actually expected him to notice the little game you were playing, at least in your head. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” you immediately shot back, refusing to meet his eyes. “I was just… Busy.”

“Ah, I know. Very busy. Crazy how you just seemed to disappear every time I tried to approach you,” Yoongi teased with a smirk playing at his lips, rising to his feet. After stretching his arms over his head briefly, he turned to face you and extended his hand. “So are you coming or not? It’s only a five minute walk up the road, and I’d recommend you decide quickly before I rescind my offer.”

After staring at his offering hand for a moment, you sighed before grabbing onto it and allowing him to pull you up. “Only for the pizza,” you retorted, although the small smile on your lips informed the both of you that that was far from true.

Despite being perfectly capable of walking on your own, Yoongi’s hand remained wrapped around your own. While you initially had some concerns that it would be awkward between the two of you, the conversation flowed naturally the entirety of the walk to his place. Whether it be laughing about the random guy at the party who attempted to get with every single girl there or even poking fun at some of the freshmen in your history lecture, you had plenty to talk about. Maybe it was the alcohol, but there seemed to be something deeper there.

After arriving at his place and noting the surprising cleanliness of it, the pair of you found yourselves sprawled out on his couch in the living room with two slices of heated up pizza a piece. It was beyond relieving to finally have some peace and quiet, and the taste of the pizza was immaculate. This was exactly what you needed.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. “Aren’t your boyfriends probably worried that you disappeared?”

Taking a big bite out of your crust, you rolled your eyes at the boy beside you and nudged his thigh with your foot. “They’re not my boyfriends, and I already told them I left.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Yoongi smirked to himself and pushed your foot away from him. “What about your little Kookie?”

“You’re awfully interested in my relationships with my friends,” you teased, leaning back further against one of the pillows and draping your feet over the armrest. “We’re just friends.”

“Okay, okay.” Yoongi chuckled and leaned forward to place his empty plate on the table in front of the couch. Once he fell back against the couch, his eyes scanned your face. A long silence fell upon you as he chewed on his lower lip, almost as if he was contemplating saying something. When you opted to sit up straight again and positioned yourself a bit closer, he finally broke the silence. “You know I never mean to hurt your feelings or offend you or anything like that, right?”

Swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in your throat, you stalled by busying yourself with putting your plate on top of his, wiping your hands against each other. “I mean, I can see that now,” you admitted, allowing your eyes to meet his. “But I never really know what to make of it all.”

Yoongi sighed to himself, looking down as he fiddled with his fingers. You were glad to see that you weren’t the only nervous one here. What had begun as a surprisingly fun and carefree hangout seemed to be morphing into something else very quickly. If there hadn’t been any alcohol remaining in your system, you likely would’ve run from the tension. Yet here you were, watching as Yoongi poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “I’m just really bad at flirting, I guess.”

Your eyes widened as you allowed yourself to process what he had just admitted, staring at him as he attempted to look anywhere that wasn’t at you. All of those little jabs and insults had been flirting? Sure, you were aware that a lot of people used teasing to flirt, but that was usually after you had established some sort of foundation and it was made clear that that was the intention. Either you had been overreacting all along, or he was right– he was really bad at this. A jittery feeling filled your stomach as you looked down, occupying yourself by playing with the ends of a strand of your hair. You hated yourself for still being so intrigued with him, but you couldn’t help it. He truly was an enigma. “You were… flirting?”

“Trying to, at least.” Yoongi let out an emotionless laugh, sounding rather disappointed in himself and likely a bit embarrassed. After another moment, his eyes found yours. Rather than look away, his eyes remained fixed on yours and a mesmerized look took over his face. It was rather unclear whether it was a genuine newfound sense of confidence that spoke up next, or if it was the alcohol talking. At that moment, something in him snapped. “I just… You’re so fucking adorable and it really frustrates me because I just don’t know how to act around you for some reason. I’d noticed you around campus before this semester but never really knew how to approach you. When I saw you were in my class, I thought I finally had a shot, but I clearly fucked that up from day one. Still don’t think I’ve even fully forgiven myself for making you cry.” Letting out a huff, he leaned his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “Everything you do is just so fucking… Ugh. How much a perfectionist you are, the short sundresses, the way you don’t even kind of realize the effect you have on people, it’s all just… Fuck. I’m so used to just getting my way with people so easily, but it’s such a challenge with you. I can’t decide if it’s more frustrating or alluring, but it doesn’t even matter. You’re all I fucking think about these days.”

Swallowing thickly, your eyes scanned his face to search for any sign that he might be lying, but you found nothing. Instead, he leaned back against the couch with his eyes closed, a hand raking itself through his hair. He looked so… Frustrated. Defeated. You did this to the typically unbothered, confident Min Yoongi? Biting your lip, your eyes trailed along his jawline and up to his lips. Not only did he look discouraged, he looking so fucking… Good. The apprehensive feeling that had taken over your stomach morphed into a pool of heat, slowly sinking lower and lower. This was the Min Yoongi you had always imagined; a vulnerable, introspective boy who also happened to have a face that looked like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. And here he was, confessing to you that you basically had him wrapped around your finger and at his will. While this twist was certainly exciting, the feeling of dominance that came along with it had you feeling turned on. You might not be good at words, but you certainly were good at communicating physically.

You hadn’t realized that you had completely zoned out until Yoongi was sitting up straight, panic in his eyes as he rapidly shook his head. “I can’t believe I just said all of that… Forget it. I’m sorry and I understand if you want to leave.”

Blinking a few times to snap yourself out of your daze, you shook your head at him. Unable to find the right words, you rose to your knees and lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and slamming your lips into his. Instead of being met with the warmth and rhythm of his lips that you so craved, he pulled back a bit.

“Wait, are you sure?” he questioned genuinely, but his eyes became dark as they trailed down to your lips, longing to taste them again. “I don’t want you to do something you might regret.”

“Yes, I’m sure about this and I’m also sure that you’re talking a whole lot. It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you teased, mocking the phrase he always used whenever he’d make fun of you in class. Moving your hands up a bit, you tangled your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. “You know, you probably should’ve led with some of that nicer stuff instead of being such an asshole. Would’ve worked wonders for you much sooner.”

Yoongi’s entire demeanor seemed to shift as your words, a sense of relief washing over his face. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he finally wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “I would’ve if you didn’t frustrate me so much. Don’t know how to act around you.” Finding his statement efficient enough for now, he at last closed the gap between the two of you, his lips slamming back onto yours. His fingers slid up the back of your shirt and dug into your back, causing you to moan into his mouth. The parting of your lips allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of him overwhelming you. The pool of heat and desire in your stomach continued to sink down lower, becoming evident in the wetness in your panties that was soon going to become noticeable if your short skirt kept rising up. Shifting yourself to straddle one of his thighs, you grinded down against it in an attempt to find some relief.

A groan from Yoongi caused you to pull back, taking a moment to catch your breath before you began to pepper wet kisses down his jawline. You were too far in at this point and there was no turning back now. As his hands slid down from your back to cup your ass, your lips found their way to his ear. “How can I make it up to you? You know, for frustrating you so much and all.”

Yoongi clenched his thigh in response to words, eliciting a moan out of you as the fabric of his jeans created friction against your wet panties. “You’re playing a dangerous game asking questions like that.”

“Mmm, I think that’s what I’m trying to do,” you cooed, pecking his lips a couple times before kissing your way down to his neck.

“Bedroom. Now.” Before you could continue, he lifted you off of his lap and placed you on your feet on the ground. He rose up beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist, quickly leading you out of the room and down the hall. The moment he dragged you into his room, one of his hands departed from your body to slam the door shut and roughly press your body against the back of the door. His lips roamed the skin on your neck for a few moments before his wandering hands abruptly tugged your shirt up and over your head, ignoring the way he forced your arms to twist. Once the piece of clothing was discarded on the floor, his eyes fell upon your exposed skin, widening when he realized you had not been wearing a bra. He took a step back, a combination of lust and what almost appeared to be admiration filling his eyes. “God, are you trying to fucking kill me?”

Biting on your lower lip in an attempt to hide your growing smirk, you raised an eyebrow at him. You could feel your ego being boosted and it was in that moment, just like that time a few days before during your run-in with him at Taehyung’s place, that you realized again just how much it got you off to feel in control over him. After having dealt with him making fun of you and watching you unravel under his gaze so many times, it felt incredible to have him like putty in your hands. It was clear by the dazed look in his eyes that he was at your command now, and this was finally a situation you felt comfortable taking control over. “Don’t tell me you’re going to die on me already. I haven’t even gotten started with you yet,” you teased, tracing your finger down his jawline at a tantalizingly slow pace. “Take off your shirt.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he obliged to your command, quickly pulling his oversized t-shirt over his head and throwing it in a pile on top of yours. It was obvious he had become accustomed to being the one holding power over you, and this shift had caught him off guard. “A little bossy, don’t you think?”

“Get used to it.” Eyeing his bare chest and stomach slowly, you planted one last wet kiss onto his lips before dropping to your knees in front of him. You ignored the way his eyes were practically bulging out of his head as you unhurriedly undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, dragging them down his legs and making sure to keep his boxers in place on his lips. Despite his surprise, he eagerly stepped out of his jeans and kicked them to the side, a hand moving to rest on the top of your head. Your mouth watered as you eyed the hardening bulge through his tight boxers that were already stained with pre-cum, leaning forward to just barely press your lips against the tip of his cock through the fabric.

Yoongi’s fingers threaded through your hair as a suffocated groan escaped his lips. “Y-You know, I had planned on going down on you first. It’s the least I could do.”

Ah, of course. He was just as predictable as every other man you had slept with, and the point had been affirmed by all of your female friends you had discussed it with as well. Let them go down on you first, they always said, knowing that if they did the job well, you would be a begging, submissive mess, hanging onto their every command for the rest of the night. While there was nothing wrong with submitting sometimes, it just didn’t get you off quite as much as taking control did. The stakes were even higher when the other person was Min Yoongi, who had just so graciously admitted to you earlier that he was so used to getting his way with people and feeling in control. Despite your arousal, you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

“Mmm, no thanks,” you hummed nonchalantly, keeping your eyes on his as you used your teeth to grip onto the waistband of his boxers and slowly drag them down his legs. Once you reached his ankles, you pulled back and took a moment to admire his fully hardened cock pressed against his stomach. It was not the longest you had ever seen, but the girth of it had you clenching your thighs together at the thought of what it would feel like inside of you later. Licking your lips, you grasped a hand around the base of his length and leaned forward, grazing your tongue against the head to lick up the pre-cum.

“Fuck,” Yoongi muttered under his breath, his other hand moving to tangle into your hair as well. “I wouldn’t recommend too much teasing, sweetheart. You’ll regret it later.”

Ah, already making threats in an attempt to feel in control. This was going to be too easy. You wanted him to beg, though. Chuckling quietly to yourself, you locked eyes with him as you flattened your tongue against the back of the base of his cock, slowly licking your way up along the protruding vein until you reached the top again. “Oh, no,” you teased, beginning to pump your hand up and down. When your hand reached the top, you brushed your thumb back and forth over his sensitive tip. “I’m so scared.”

Whimpering softly, Yoongi’s eyes screwed shut as he craned his neck back. “Please, Y/N,” he groaned, giving your hair a rough tug. “Need your mouth. Now. Please.”

There it was, the begging you had been waiting for. All it took was a bit of teasing for the cocky Min Yoongi to lose all sense of pride. “Well, I guess, since you asked so nicely.” Smirking at your victory, you leaned forward and wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock. Once you had hollowed out your cheeks enough to accommodate for his girth, you began to bob your head up and down and use one hand to pump the rest of his length that wasn’t in your mouth.

“F-Fuck, babe, just like that,” Yoongi groaned out from above you, trying his best to keep his eyes open despite the immense pleasure surging throughout his body. Once you had adopted a rhythm after a couple of minutes, you removed your hand from the base of his shaft. Yoongi immediately noticed its absence and moved a hand to the back of your head, slowly beginning to urge you forward further down his length. “Fuck, you’re doing so well.”

Your eyes remained on his as you allowed him to slowly fuck your face, watering as you fought against the urge to gag. The sound of his quiet moans of your name encouraged you further. When you could tell he couldn’t take much more, you leaned forward to take the rest of his length in your mouth, bottoming out as your nose touched the skin on the bottom of his stomach. Sucking in a deep breath through your nose, you swallowed gently around him, allowing his cock to feel the tightening of the muscles of your throat around it.

Yoongi released his loudest groan yet, eyes screwing shut as he shook his head. “F-Fuck, stop, stop,” he whimpered out, letting go of the back of your head. “Don’t wanna cum before I even get to be inside of you.”

Fighting back the urge to smirk yet again, you slowly worked your mouth backwards until you released the tip of his cock with a loud ‘pop.’ Using the back of your hand to wipe the string of saliva that was hanging out of your mouth, you slowly rose to your feet to meet a flushed Yoongi.

Clearing his throat, he raised an expecting eyebrow at you. “You know, I would like to return the favor first.”

“Hmm.” You couldn’t deny that your core was throbbing at this point, begging for any sort of release. Still, your ego had you wanting to maintain the dominance you currently had over him. Pressing a peck to his lips, you reached down to unbutton your skirt, shimmying it down your legs along with your soaked panties. “Think I could sit on your face?”

For the umpteenth time that night, Yoongi’s eyes enlarged to the size of saucers as he looked you up and down. It felt like an eternity that he stood there frozen and you could practically see a bubble above his head that read ‘Yoongi.exe has stopped working.’ When he at last realized his distraught state, he blinked rapidly and cursed beneath his breath before nodding. “Uh, yeah… That works.” God, he really was speechless.

You failed to suppress an amused laugh as he quickly made his way over to his unmade bed and laid on his back, his short-term flustered demeanor quickly being overtaken with a cocky smirk. While this shift left you wanting to take control again, you couldn’t wait any longer at this point. Sauntering over to the bed, you made your way onto your knees over his face as you faced his stomach, slowly lowering down until you hovered just above him.

Yoongi let out an amused chuckle, the release of warm air from his nose making your wet pussy throb. “God, babe, you’re already soaked,” he mused, reaching his hands around and gripping them tightly around each of your thighs. “You really got off that much just from sucking my cock, hmm?”

His words had you whimpering above him, gasping as he urged your body lower and barely ghosted his lips over your clit. The need for power was gone for now. You needed him to do something. “P-Please.”

Another laugh had you clenching your thighs around his head, begging for any sort of friction. “Come on, babe. I bet you were feeling pretty good about yourself thinking you were in control, hmm?” His nails roughly dug down into the skin of your thighs. “Please what?”

Letting out a frustrated huff, you closed your eyes tightly as you moved your hands up your body, wrapping around your breasts. You knew you had to give in. “Please fuck me with your tongue. Anything, please,” you moaned out, pinching at your sensitive nipples to feel any sort of pleasure as you waited.

“Was that so difficult? That’s all I needed to hear, babe,” he hummed from beneath you, reaching up to grab your hips and urge your body down lower under your pussy rested gently over his mouth. Once he adjusted to the new position, he opened his mouth and slowly began to run his tongue along your folds. It wasn’t until he received a few satisfactory moans from you that his tongue began to gently circle your clit, somehow hitting the spot right where you needed him.

“F-Fuck, Yoongi. Right there,” you moaned out loudly, absentmindedly lowering yourself down a bit more to increase the friction. Your eyes closed shut in pleasure as he replaced the circling motion with a soft sucking, a string of profanities leaving your mouth as you pinched your nipples harder. God, it hadn’t even been long and you could already feel the knot in the pit of your stomach building, dying for that beautiful release.

After a few more moments, Yoongi urged your body up a bit so he could speak coherently. “Come on, babe. Be a good girl and fuck yourself on my tongue.”

A whimper escaped your mouth as you lowered yourself back down onto his now-flattened tongue. Once you had applied the right amount of pressure, you slowly began to rock your hips back and forth. At the top of each motion, his tongue managed to hit that perfect spot on your sensitive bud, bringing you closer to your orgasm with every jolt. Yoongi could sense that you were getting close as your movements became sloppier, encouraging his nails to dig deeper into your thighs and hum against the lips of your pussy to increase the sense of friction. This proved to be all too much for you and the pool of heat in your abdomen snapped moments later, your orgasm overtaking your body as you loudly moaned out Yoongi’s name. The high was almost too much to handle; you were left seeing stars as Yoongi continued to fuck you with his tongue until you couldn’t take it anymore and moved off of his face with shaky thighs to collapse behind him.

Yoongi sat up quickly moments later, refusing to wipe your release off of his face as he marveled at your breathless form before him. “Holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he breathed out, and you swore you could see his cock twitch against his stomach.

When you finally fully came down from your high, you propped yourself up on your elbows to observe the wide-eyed man staring down at you. “Glad we were finally able to find something that mouth is good for.” Your tongue poked out to skate over your lower lip as you admired the glistening of your release shamelessly left around his mouth and the head of his cock glowing an angry shade of red, just begging to experience the same release. The mouth-watering sight had you aroused again at an embarrassingly fast pace, and it was only moments before you gripped onto his arm and roughly pulled his body on top of yours.

Yoongi’s mouth eagerly met yours, bringing you into a messy battle of teeth and tongues. As he felt you attempt to buck your hips up into his, he began leaving a wet trail of kisses up your jawline until he was barely an inch from your ear. “Think you’re ready to take my cock already? God, you really are a needy, dirty slut, huh?”

His words had your clit throbbing and your body without any patience left. You’re perceptive enough to know that he had been waiting even longer than you and likely couldn’t take waiting any longer either. Reaching down between your bodies, you wrapped a hand around his shaft and guided it toward you, slowly rubbing the tip up and down your wet folds.

“F-Fuck,” Yoongi groaned out, eyes looking down to admire his cock against your clit before meeting your own. “Want me to grab a condom first?”

Whimpering at the feeling of his tip brushing against your sensitive bud, you bit your lip. “I’m clean and I’m on the pill. It’s fine as long as you’re clean.”

“I’m clean too.” Yoongi nodded his head rapidly, reaching down to replace your hand with his own around his cock. “Such a dirty slut wanting me to fuck you raw.” Without any further warning, he placed the tip of his cock at your entrance and bucked his hips forward, slowly filling you with his length.

The sudden stretching of your walls caught you off guard, a loud gasp breezing through your lips as your head fell back against the pillow. The initial shock of overstimulation washed away in an instant, a feeling of deep pleasure in the pit of your stomach replacing it as he slid all the way in. When you realized he was remaining still, you opened your eyes and dug your nails into the skin on his back. “Y-Yoongi, move. Please.”

“G-God, so fucking tight and wet for me.” His forehead fell upon yours and he pressed a shockingly gentle kiss to your lips before propping himself up and beginning to thrust in and out of you at a rapid pace. “Taking my cock so well.”

Whimpering quietly, you moved your legs to wrap around his lower waist and hoist your body closer to his, attempting to match his movements and feel him even deeper inside of you. At the new angle, it wasn’t long until he adjusted his hips so the tip of his cock was pounding against your g-spot with every single thrust. You knew you were not going to last long. Without even realizing, you clenched your walls around him. “F-Fuck, you feel so good.”

Yoongi let out a loud groan as he buried his face into your neck, his teeth clamping down on the exposed skin. “Fuck, babe. I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

It was almost as if his desperate words reignited the same fire for dominance you had been feeling earlier, suddenly recognizing the power you held over him. Despite feeling quite close to orgasm yourself and enjoying the position you were in, you knew you’d get off even faster if you were to take control of the situation. Tightening your legs around his waist, you used all of your strength to flip your body over so you were on top of him. Pressing your hands against his chest, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, moaning loudly as his cock was able to fill you up even deeper in the new position. “Mmm, that’s better.”

Yoongi initially looked at you in shock, but the moment that you sunk down his length, he threw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, what’s with you needing to be in control?” The clear implication of the question was that he was used to being the dominant one, and this switch was catching him off guard. Regardless, he maintained his composure and propped his head up on the pillow, placing his hands on your hips as you began to bounce up and down. “Yeah? You like getting off by fucking yourself on my cock?”

Throwing your head back, you dragged your nails down his chest as you began to grind your hips in figure-eights, feeling that all-too-familiar warmth quickly building up in your stomach. The sound of your skin slapping against his and echoing throughout the room only intensified your arousal, your hand moving to your clit in an attempt to reach your release sooner. “I-I’m close.”

“I’ve got it, babe,” Yoongi murmured, wetting his fingers against his tongue before pressing two of them against your clit and beginning to rub the sensitive area in small circles. His breathing was quickly becoming as jagged as yours, his groans more frequent. “C-Close, too. W-Where?”

Although his question was quite vague and your mind was clouded from your orgasm that was quickly approaching, you understood what he was asking you. Opening your eyes to meet his, you ground your hips against his harder. “I-Inside me. Please.”

“Fuck, that’s hot. O-Okay.”

Yoongi’s fingers quickened in pace against your clit, his own hips lifting up off of the mattress to meet your thrusts. The new sensation of fullness triggered your second orgasm, your eyes slamming shut as your walls pulsed and convulsed around his cock. The feeling was even stronger than the first one, and although your mind was quite foggy, you’re sure that you were left practically screaming out his name as you desperately gripped onto his arms for any source of stability while you rode out your high.

After witnessing the euphoric look on your face and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock, Yoongi’s orgasm followed just moments later. A loud groan escaped his lips as he sat up straight and wrapped his arms around you, his forehead resting against yours as the feeling of ecstasy flowed throughout his body. The incoherent noises leaving his mouth continued as he pulsed hot streams of cum inside of you, filling you up completely as he tiredly lifted his hips a few more times to fuck it deeper inside of you.

When you were finally able to catch your breath and the tingling sensation left your body, you opened your eyes and were surprised with his closeness when you realized that his forehead was resting against yours. Something about the position felt so intimate to you, and despite having just been fucked senselessly by the man in front of you, you were left suddenly feeling a bit… Shy. Maybe it was the last remnants of the alcohol wearing off or maybe it was the fact that you had just come crashing down from one of the best orgasms you had ever experienced, but you suddenly felt so vulnerable in front of no one other than Min Yoongi. Chewing on your bottom lip, you slowly lifted your weight off of him and collapsed down beside him, throwing an arm over your eyes as you let out an exhausted yawn. You knew you were good at sex. What you were not so good at was what usually came after it; the uncomfortable conversations and trying to figure out whether or not the other person wanted you to stay or go. The tension that had existed between the two of you before all of this had occurred left you even more on edge.

Yoongi fell back next to you moments later, a huff escaping his lips as his head hit the pillow. Although your arm was covering your eyes, you could feel his eyes glued to your face. “Wow, what the fuck was that? Not what I had imagined you being like,” he exhaled, and you could feel his weight shifting closer to your body. “I’m so used to being in complete control… Didn’t expect to like it so much when it’s not like that.”

Smiling to yourself at your victory, you allowed your arm to fall away from your face, opening your eyes to meet his. “You live and you learn.”

A shockingly warm smile overtook Yoongi’s features as his eyes trailed down your body, stopping when they reached your thighs. Suddenly, he sat up straight before pushing himself off of the bed and getting onto his feet. “Fuck, sorry. I’m gonna get you a towel to clean up.”

“No worries.” You offered him a reassuring smile, sitting up as you watched him disappear out of the room. Once he was gone, you exhaled a deep breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding in. His question was valid: What the fuck was that? Your mind wandered back to the heated conversation you were having before throwing yourselves at each other, trying to recall the confession he had made to you. The post-sex dreariness was setting in and you were finding it difficult to recollect just what he had said and what the implications behind it were. You remembered him saying something about how you were all he could think about, but that likely just meant he was physically attracted to you, right? Had you wanted him to mean more than that? The pit growing in your stomach suggested that perhaps you did, and perhaps you should get out of there before you got too upset about it. It would make sense if it was only for sex to him, especially since you were aware of his past and how he was used to getting his way with girls. You needed to get out of there before it became more than just sex to you too.

Your eyes wandered over the edge of the bed, spotting your top within reaching distance from where you were. Right as you were about to reach down to grab it, Yoongi barged back into the room. He was now clothed in an oversized t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers.

“Sorry for the wait, but I got you a towel fresh out of the dryer.” He lingered in the doorway for a moment, eyeing you curiously for a moment before shutting the door behind him. “Also brought you some sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in. A hoodie, too. Wasn’t really sure what you’d want so I kind of brought a little bit of everything.” His eyes avoided yours as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “You can also shower if you want, but I figured you’d be tired and could just do it in the morning.”

You blinked a few times as you studied his oddly nervous demeanor, taking in the meaning behind his words. He had wanted you to stay? Was he just being respectful, or did he really want you there? Reaching forward to grab the towel he left on the edge of the bed, you looked down as you started to clean yourself up. “Oh, I didn’t know you wanted me to stay…”

Yoongi remained silent for a few moments, his eyes finally falling upon your face as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Huh? Why wouldn’t I want that?” There was genuine confusion laced into his voice as he anxiously tapped his hands against his lap. “Wait, I did tell you I was interested in you earlier, right? I… I was nervous so I wouldn’t be surprised if it came out the wrong way. I tend to do that a lot around you, apparently.” A jittery chuckle escaped his lips as he looked down at his lap.

An excited rush burst throughout your stomach, a smile threatening to spread across your lips as you finally allowed yourself to look at his distraught form. You were feeling hopeful, but you needed to make sure. “I mean, you said something along the lines of being attracted to me and wanting to get to know me, or something like that…” You were well aware that such probing was only going to make him more nervous, but you needed to hear him say it.

“Ah, right. I’m seeing now how that’s kind of vague.” His cheeks were flushed bright red, but he finally allowed his eyes to meet yours. It was like the cocky, vocal Yoongi you had just experienced fifteen minutes prior and the smol bean hunched over beside you were two completely different people. Offering you a shy smile, he rested a gentle hand on top of your thigh. “I like you. I really do want to get to know you better. I’m sorry we did this, uh, kind of backwards.” His free hand reached up to rake through his disheveled hair. “But I was thinking that maybe tomorrow we could study for our history test during the day and after that, there’s this nice new restaurant that just opened down the street that I was, uh, thinking about taking you to. You know, only if you want, though.”

It was nice to see Yoongi let his guard down, and it was even nicer to know that you were the cause of it. Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the sweatpants and hoodie he had left on the edge of the bed, moving the dirty towel to the side as you began to dress yourself in his clothes. Your head lingered for a few moments in the hoodie before pulling it over your head, inhaling the scent of his laundry detergent and cologne. While you did appreciate his openness and his confession left you feeling quite jumpy, you knew you couldn’t turn down an opportunity to tease him even further. “Oh, so now you’re just using me for my notes, huh?”

Yoongi’s face fell as you spoke, but the moment he noticed the teasing smirk spread across your lips, he rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder. “Just because I’m not as neat doesn’t mean I’m not as diligent.” Scooching his body over until he was beside you, he shook his head as he pulled a blanket over both of your laps. “You know, I don’t appreciate the teasing when I’m trying to be vulnerable here.”

Giggling to yourself, you leaned back until your head hit the pillow. Pulling him down beside you, you rested a hand on his cheek. “I can agree to all of your plans under one condition.”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Yoongi moved his body closer to yours and draped a leg over both of yours. It was clear he was quickly becoming comfortable again. “And what might that be?”

Running your finger along his jawline, a small smirk stretched across your lips. “We go for round two first thing tomorrow morning.”

Yoongi appeared to be caught off guard at first, but it wasn’t long until he was laughing along with you. “God, you really are a bit much.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip as he appeared to think to himself. “I can also agree to that under one condition.”

Your finger stopped moving along his face as you tilted your head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?”

Smirking at you, Yoongi’s hand trailed down your back before he gave your ass a playful squeeze. “Before the semester ends, you promise me that we break into our lecture hall one night and you let me fuck you over the table while you wear that yellow sundress.”

“God, how long have you been fantasizing that one for?” The mischievous look spread across his face told you all you needed to know. Laughing loudly as you closed your eyes, you snuggled your face into his chest, quickly becoming accustomed to viewing his warmth as a source of comfort.

“Deal.”

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