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notnctu · 3 years

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backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo ; @yunoyeol ; @lanadreamie ; @ta3ilmoon ;

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating.

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart.

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well.

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you.

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaemin #nct #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream series #ridinclub

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother. He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin. angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are. i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia so i blame her. as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes. fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao 🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy! feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you!

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word. Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no. He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon. Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second. Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since. Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line. Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin. He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter. Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension. All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever. Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime. You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most. You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch. Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows. It takes a moment to gather your surroundings. You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there. As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time. 5:34 pm. Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix. How had you fallen asleep for five hours? How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it. You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles. Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung. Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each. Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.” He pushes past you and into the living room.

Your mouth gapes open. Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this. Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure. “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff. “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam? What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado. “Obviously not anymore. We broke up, she kept the apartment. Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps? You clear your throat. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen. “No, you’re not.”

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother. He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat. The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn. Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone. You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon. It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever. What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping. God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on. I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone. “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night. It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple. Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom. The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room. You’re not getting out of this. I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon. Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed. “I agree to your terms. Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time. 6:40. God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready. There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already? We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table. He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement. “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower. That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds. We’ll be waiting awhile.”

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants. You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage. Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.” Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face. “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face. Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening. You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth. Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone. And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin. You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas. He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.” Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory. Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other. Feels like old times. Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room. The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life. Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv. Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.

Why did he do it? You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning. Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off. He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing. Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now. Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again. While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow. You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep. If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved. But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems. You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught. You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable. You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day. Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol. Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. A nightcap. Of course. You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound. Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house. You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate. It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge. You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house. You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile. Liquid sleep. And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder. Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired. “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls. The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.

“Fucking help me! You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything. You did that on your own.” Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent. He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?” You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him. It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you. “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there. You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush. He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks. “We talked about that. Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own. He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.” His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle. “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan. “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth. He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more. His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs. You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused. His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure. He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath. “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free. Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.” He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts. You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime. You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.” Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut. Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.” His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat. You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his. Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life. You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet. My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you. Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!” You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.” He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you. He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix. This is surely what heaven feels like. It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity. He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung! You! Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks. He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises. “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”

“Yeah baby, cum for me. Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down. Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry. You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words. You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please. Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.” You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash. He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY! Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #btswritersnet #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts v #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #v

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Gimme Love, 3/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do. TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia

2003 High School. The bane of my existence. Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else. From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person. Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever. Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years. I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours. If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks. When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do. Again, God had favourites. From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused. I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it. And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly. "I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply. "Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps. "Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit." "You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself. "Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here." "Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store." Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour." "No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song." "Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her." We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over. We were going to miss the bus. "Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away. To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the

back seat, Logan and Noah. "Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined. In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy. "You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him. “Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school." 'Hell fucking no.' I thought. "Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow. "You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered. "Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head. "So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?" I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within. "Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again. I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there. "Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened. "Juju." I tried to stop her. "Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again." How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men. "Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber. "You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee. "I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers. I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that." Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way." "I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?" "Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him." "I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?" Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?" Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her. I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as friends. A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain? "So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?" "...Excuse me?" "My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders. I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch." His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?" I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was. And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone. Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed

issues of her own? Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college. The second reason? Blair. Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche. I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;

differing social circles (in my case, lack of),

her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,

her friends,

and, of course, my massive crush on her.

So, why was Blair the second reason as to why I dragged myself to school? Her smile. That was enough. As much as I tried to avoid her, the world decided to do a big "fuck you" on me and sometimes put us into situations together. And every time, I'd be internally freaking out. The worst was when we were both 16. It was that time of the year when the school would invite someone to subject us to the most humiliating moment of our lives. How the fuck were you supposed to put a condom on a banana without bursting out laughing? How the fuck were you supposed to sit there and keep a straight face when the educator used words like 'flaps'? We filed into the class, Jujubee and me taking seats at the back of the room. We knew this was going to be hilarious, so best to avoid the attention of the teacher. "Juju, I know you are dying to make jokes during this, but I'm begging you. Please don't." I spoke quietly to her as other students filed in. "But you know I'm going to, right?" Jujubee smirked, putting her bag on the ground. "No. We wanna keep a low profile. If we laugh, we draw attention, and then we risk being singled out. You know? We'll be at the front of the class demonstrating whatever this bitch asks us." Obviously, I was referring to putting condoms on bananas and the like. Juju, however, raised a brow, "I wouldn't mind that, babe. Don't worry. We won't need to take our clothes off." I stared at her for a few seconds, unable to think of how to respond to that. Jujubee winked, and I forced myself to look away. "That's not what I meant." Blair strolled in with Denali and Rosé, already I could feel my stomach knotting. They went to sit together somewhere in the middle. "Ugh, nope. I don't think so, ladies." Ah, Miss Jaida Hall, if only I could have warned you not to say what you were about to say. Somehow Blair and the two others knew she was speaking to them. She continued, "This is an important class, and I'm not gonna have you all laughing and snickering during it." She had a point. The three girls usually whispered to each other in class, giggling about all sorts of shit. It was never anything malicious about the lesson or teachers, just inside jokes with each other, pretty harmless stuff. But it pissed the teachers off so much. "You can't be serious, right?" Denali replied, clearly scandalised. "Very serious, actually." Ms Hall nodded, "Denali, sit with Brian. Rosé, with Gigi. Blair, with Brianna." I grabbed Jujubee by the wrist, the pressure making her squeak. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Blair was not rolling her eyes as she made her way to the back towards me. This was not fucking happening. As instructed, Jujubee stood up and let Blair sit down, moving to sit somewhere else. I was alone with the one person I tried my hardest to avoid. She slouched down in her chair, arms folded like she was already over it. I wanted so badly to ask if she was OK. But I couldn't bring myself to. And as the lights turned off and the sex-ed lady pressed play on the video player, I wished I had said something. As the way too enthusiastic narrator explained step by step the act of sexual intercourse, I tried hiding the blush on my face with my hair. I tried so hard to focus on what I was being taught. The truth was, I was still a virgin, as were many of the others in the room, I'm sure. But unlike them, I had no idea how sex worked. It wasn't something I ever gave time to think about. I felt a tapping on my hand. My body tensed as I glanced to the side. Blair was looking at the screen, then at me, then her fingers brushed against my hand. I stared back, unsure of what was happening but also knowing full well what she was doing. She leaned closer and pressed her lips on mine. … OK, that's not what happened. Life wasn't a movie. This was the beginning of the fantasies. Was I ashamed because I was thinking about Blair like that? Or was I ashamed that I enjoyed thinking of Blair like that? "This is ridiculous," Blair whispered. Was I supposed to say something back? "What do you mean?" I

whispered back. "Do they actually think we're that dumb? We all know how sex works. We don't need this stupid class." Blair rolled her eyes. I almost told her that I belonged to the small percentage that didn't know. But I stopped myself. I couldn't bear her knowing that information. Instead, I went with the awkward, "haha. Yeaaahhhh…" For the rest of the film, we sat in silence. Still trying to focus on the screen. Not the absolute stunner sitting next to me. And as if by magic, the video ended. I wanted to say I was relieved, but I couldn't lie; what I learned from the film left me nauseous. He puts his hoo-ha in her what, now?? "Well, that was really cool and hip, right?" The educator enthused. I cringed internally. No woman wearing a crucifix necklace and ankle-length skirt has the right to use words like 'cool' and 'hip'. "I know it's probably all so confusing. So that's why I'm here to answer any of your questions, dudes and dudettes." Already, one of the boys put a hand up. "Go ahead, homie." "What about the other hole?" He said with a straight face before his friends started laughing. He laughed back as he fired one of them. "You know. The back door?" Ms Hall shot him the 'look'. He was toast. The sex educator fixed her hair quite uncomfortable, "Well, there's a reason that is an out hole, young man. I warn all of you, do not go down that road. You will get aids and die. Now, does anybody else have a question?" The educator rambled, fixing her hair awkwardly. I heard the rustling of clothes beside me, and glancing around, Blair had her hand straight up in the air. "Yes, sweetheart?" Sex Ed lady pointed to her. "OK, so this is interesting and all, but I was just wondering, what about non-heterosexual sex?" Her brows knit for a moment. I looked around at her now. The breath caught in my throat. "I'm sorry?" Sex Ed lady asked. "You know. Man on man. Girl on girl. What about all of that?" Blair raised a brow. "I mean, you gotta know there's more than just heterosexual people out there. Maybe some even in this room right now." "Blair." Ms Hall began. "Because, if you disagree, then that's ridiculous. Oh, and if you think aids is some kind of death sentence, then you seriously need to educate yourself." Sex ed lady looked appalled, her Christian beliefs quite clearly threatened. "That's it. Get out." Ms Hall stood up. Blair huffed, pushing her seat back, lifted her bag and left the room, Ms Hall following behind. "OK. So, any other questions? Reasonable questions only, please." Jujubee was looking over her shoulder at me now, sharing the same expression I did. Thank God for lunch next period. Jujubee and I were hiding at the back of the school, in an alley between the building itself and the old workshops. The perfect hiding place for a smoke and to freak the fuck out about specific events. "Juju, she knows. She knows I'm a lesbian. She knows I like her." I paced. "I'm moving. That's it." I stopped. "But why would she speak up for me of all people? It doesn't make sense." My eyes widened. "Unless she's also a lesbian. I mean, that makes sense, right?" Jujubee had been sitting on the wall, patiently listening to my manic ramblings. The first few minutes, she was just as astounded. But the more I theorised, rambling on and on, she was over it. "I highly doubt that considering the boyfriend." "Then she must know. Why else would she say it? I highly doubt there are other gays in that class. Speaking of which, I had no idea lesbians could have sex like; how does that work. I'm gonna look into that somehow. But getting back to the point, if she did know, why would she speak out for me of all people?" My ramblings were non-stop. I tried my best to avoid Blair for the rest of the day, not that I could, considering we were both in the same last period. Blair's outburst was the talk of the school. I wasn't sure if it was a positive response or not. The only thing I did know was Trevor was pissed. "Brie, look." Jujubee tapped me. I turned from my locker and looked where everyone else seemed to be

looking. Just down the corridor, Trevor was standing over Blair, their conversation clearly heated. People were shamelessly moving closer, Jujubee following in their path. "Juju, don't," I whispered. But she didn't listen. I went after her as if it would stop her. "Trevor, this isn't that big of a deal," Blair said. "Not a big deal? Blair, do you know what the guys are saying? They think you're gonna dump me for a girl. Do you know how humiliating that is?" Trevor held a hand to his chest "And what if I did?" Blair challenged. The few people standing around cooed with excitement. "Oh, please. Don't get all cocky now that you have an audience." Trevor pointed. But Blair took a step closer to him. "What, 'cause you know you're the one who looks like an idiot? Maybe if you weren't so insecure, you'd know I would never do that to you." "Don't call me an idiot." Trevor lowered his tone, choosing purposely to ignore her reassurance. "Fine. But don't criticise me for a valid question I asked in a class you weren't even a part of. It's none of your business, no one's business for that matter." Blair bit back. "I can do what I want, Blair." "OK. Whatever." Blair brushed past him. Trevor quickly spun around, grabbing her arm. "No, we're not done having this conversation." My stomach twisted. "Let go of my arm, Trevor." Blair tugged, her voice cracking. Trevor did as was told now that the air was thick with tension, "We are not done talking," he stressed. Blair took a step back, "Yeah, we are, actually," and she turned to walk away. "If you walk away right now, we're finished." Trevor threatened. It was as if time was at a standstill, waiting for her reaction. But at the same time, it felt as though time was counting down. Like we were in a competition show. The contestant has to decide before time runs out, while the audience yells, 'DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!' No one was shouting, but you could feel everyone's excitement. Blair's lip curled upwards. "OK. Fine by me." And, finally, she walked off. The people were cooing with excitement again. "Shut up!" Trevor shouted. I grabbed Jujubee by the shoulder and ushered her back. Trevor kicked his locker, the thud echoing through the halls. That was the last straw. Knowing Trevor, he'd take his anger out on us. It was time to flee the scene. It was all Jujubee wanted to talk about for the rest of the day. Now I knew how she felt during my smoke break. But I couldn't blame her. The scene played in my head over and over again, leading to so many questions. Was there more to this breakup? Did he grab Blair like that all the time? What would happen now? Would she find a new guy? A girl, maybe? I came to the conclusion that Blair and Trevor's breakup was neither good nor bad. Bad because, as I said before, now he had more pent up anger from the humiliation of being so publicly dumped. Therefore, Jujubee and I would most likely be subject to more harassment. Good, because maybe Blair did like girls. Maybe there was still some little chance for us to be together. But if we were going to be together, there was one issue; I still had no fucking idea how lesbian sex worked. Cut to later that night, I'm in my room, sitting in front of my computer. I needed to distract myself from my thoughts of the breakup. While the scratchy dial-up tones emitted the machine, I psyched myself up. Even though I knew sex was normal to learn about at that age, it was still daunting. With shaky hands, I searched 'lesbian sex'. And fuck was it a mistake. What I wanted was educational articles, guides, etc. And what I got was porn. I watched all but a few minutes, all the painfully bad acting scenes that took place before the main event. Upon hearing the first moan, I clicked out as fast as I could. Looking behind me, Piggie was just playing with a stuffed animal on my bed. "You saw that, right?" He looked at me with perked ears. I still felt judged, so I opened my bedroom door and let him out. I needed to be exact. 'How do lesbians have sex?' And Brianna Caldwell was never the

same. My mind was opened that night. This was no mistake. This was a surprise. I couldn't look away from the computer screen, no matter how slow the Internet connection was. All of this information was all too much but not enough at the same time. And it made me feel less nauseated than I felt after watching that stupid video in class. And I built up the courage to go back to that porn site. And I watched every damn second. Then I watched another one. And another. And just one more 'cause why the fuck not? My bedroom door opened. "Brianna, I'm ordering - -" "Get out," I shouted, closing the site down like my life depended on it. But she stood there for a few seconds, eyes wide and hand still on the door frame. "Honey, are you - -" "Mom, oh my god. Can you just - -" I couldn't even form a proper sentence. She gave an apologetic look and closed the door. But she remained on the other side. "I just wanted you to know that I'm ordering pizza for Grandpa and me. Do you want some?" My forehead was in my hand now. "Yes." "What kind?" "Just…" I wanted to shout, "Pepperoni." And with that, she left. But that wasn't the end of it. When the food arrived, I waited a few minutes before going downstairs to grab a few slices. Grandpa was in the living room watching an old rerun of The A-Team. But she was there, in the kitchen, as if she was waiting for me. "Honey, look. I know you're getting to that age where you're curious about certain things and - -" "Mom, no. Please, don't do this." I whined. "I know. I know. I just wanted to let you know that this is natural, and…" she continued to deliver the same talk we all got in class. My eyes were wide, face red with humiliation. -_-_-_- 2020 I picked up a slice of pepperoni pizza, instantly reminded of the traumatic event. OK, maybe that was too strong of a word to use. But of course, you are going to dread the thought of that time your parent talked to you about sex. I walked into the living room, pizza slice in hand, trying not to dwell on the memory. "So, Brianna. Any update on the love life?" Tamisha asked. I loved that bitch; being one of Mom's closest friends, she was present for most of my life. But she always had a tendency to ask questions I wasn't up for answering. I took a bite from my pizza and answered with a full mouth, "dry." "Girl, you're almost 40." She continued. I was ready to challenge her because I was actually just 33 when Mom took her turn to speak. "Yeah, get yourself a man and make me a Grandma already." She wasn't serious. She knew I hated these types of talks, but that didn't stop her from encouraging the others. The funny thing about the time she caught me watching porn, she never clocked it was girl on girl. Of all the years I've been on this planet, I hadn't given her a clue that I was a lesbian. Would I ever tell her? I didn't see the point. From previous failed relationships and being too busy with my job, I wouldn't end up with someone anyway. But of course, I'd make an exception for a certain someone. Monét poured the first round of shots. I already knew I'd hate myself the next day. I wasn't drunk already. Just sort of buzzed. But that changed within an hour. I was hammered. Mom, Monét and all her friends were singing all the old songs in the living room. I was out in the kitchen, trying to drink 8 glasses of water. I only managed 3. Piggie ran in and put his paws up on my knee. "There he is. My baby. My fucking son." I slid down to the ground and let him sit in my lap. "How is your night going?" Just great, Brianna! Anyway, how about that Blair girl, huh? Piggie's non-existent voice said. "Oh yeah," my eyes narrowed. I unlocked my phone and opened up Facebook. And I bravely searched up her name. I say bravely because it does take some balls to go and stalk your crushes social media accounts. All it took to fuck everything up was the slip of a finger, and before you know it, you've liked a post or sent a friend request. "Let's do some digging, Piggie." I cuddled him. Immediately, she was the top result, with Jujubee

being the only mutual friend. "Yeah, girl. Infiltration." I commented as I clicked into her profile. And then her profile picture. "Holy shit." She hadn't aged. She still looked as young and radiant as she did back in high school. "What do you think, Piggie?" I showed him the screen. He glanced at it before tucking his head under his arms. The enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes. I looked at her info. 'Single'. Promising. Scrolling down to her timeline, I noticed she didn't post a lot. Fair enough. Facebook was becoming a dead site in recent years. There were just your average Facebook posts, sharing giveaway posts, a post from an old lady saying, 'Blair, this is Granny. Could you go to Walmart and get me some applesauce? Love granny xx', a shared post from a guy called George Miller. And my finger stopped scrolling upon seeing Blair holding a baby. "Oh God, we've encountered our first obstacle, Piggie," I whined. I clicked into the comments. That George Miller guy commented, 'congrats, Blair!' She replied, 'thank you, but she's my cousin's lol'. "Thank you, Jesus." I put my phone down for a moment to put my hand up to the good lord. I scrolled some more, seeing many inspirational quotes, a link to Adore You by Harry Styles. And a picture of her. With that George Miller guy. With his arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her temple. I could feel my heart sink the more I studied it. Yeah, I knew Blair and I were never meant to be anyway. But it was still upsetting. Relax. They could be friends. Yeah, that's right. Friends hold each other and act all affectionate, right?? I cuddle with Jujubee sometimes. That doesn't mean anything. Right? I needed evidence, just anything, to make it not true. I scrolled some more. There was a video, she was sitting on her sofa, with a girl playing the guitar sitting on the other end. "I've been running races on empty, Pour it up 'cause my cup so empty. Gotta make time for the real me. I've been running, I've been running on empty." And my nerves were settled again. I had only heard Blair sing a few times. She and her friends would pretend they were famous singers in early elementary years, and she'd always be the best. Then another time was in high school, at the winter talent show. I specifically remember it being A moment like this by Kelly Clarkson. It was unreal. 'Jujubee 💋💅🏽 is typing…' I clicked into Snapchat before she even had a chance to type the whole message. "Do you remember Jujubee?" I asked Piggie. Again, he was silent. 'I hope you're having fun, babe ❤ lv u'. "Thanks," was all I could manage to type. A shadow cast over me. I looked up to see Monét join me on the ground. "Hey, girl." She greeted me. "Hi, Aunt Monét." I smiled. Piggie hopped off my lap and onto hers. "Aunt Monét? Honey, you haven't called me that since middle school." She smiled. I returned the smile, only mine probably looking goofy. "I'm just wasted." "I noticed. No more shots for you anyway." She noted, taking a drink from her own bottle. "Anyway, how's the project?" "We got fucking Ed Sheeran involved." I then cursed myself internally for bringing it up. "I heard. Your Mom was telling me. Ugh, girl, why him? Why not someone like…" she paused to think, "like Beyonce. Or Lady Gaga." "OK, man-hater." I quipped, reaching over to pet Piggie. "Not true. Not all men are bad." Monét pointed out. "Speaking of which, when are you getting yourself one?" I could have given her the usual 'I don't have time for men's talk. But the alcohol said no. "Monét, I like girls." And I felt no shame in saying it. A moment of silence fell between us before she asked, "for real?" "Yeah." I nodded. "Does anyone else know?" "Yeah. Juju. And Piggie probably." I replied, leaving one more name out for the sole purpose I didn't want to get into that. "And Mom?" "Nope." She nodded. "I guess this is one of these aunty-niece confidentiality things?" "Uh-huh." I smiled. Bless Aunt Monét. "Well, no matter who you live, we still love you." She laughed for a moment before taking another drink. I knew

she was right. Maybe coming out to Mom wasn't such a bad idea. "You know what, Brianna?" She paused, "Grandpa would be so proud of you, right?" My smile slowly began to drop. Fuck, the touchy subject. "Oh, I...thanks." I thought the change in my mood was hard to miss, but Monét clearly had. "You and I ain't ever talked about him since...you know." "OK," I said quietly, feeling like my chest was a fist, beginning to clench tighter and tighter. "And sometimes, it's just good to look back on - -" "I gotta go." I quickly stood up, feeling the dark fog already come over me. I rushed from the room, my aunty calling my name and apologising. I avoided going into the living room, rushing up the stairs and racing for the bathroom. As soon as the door was locked, I let myself crumble, my face hidden beneath shaking hands, a cry clogged in my throat just begging to belt out. Mom would definitely hear it. I wasn't going to ruin her day. Absolutely not. Tags: rpdr fanfiction // s10 // as5 // miz cracker // jujubee // blair st clair // blair x cracker // denali foxx // rose // fluff // coming of age // hurt/comfort // lesbian au // highschool au // grinder // tw grief // tw homophobia [Cover image here] AN: Hey, guys! I hope yall are enjoying this fic so far! Throw me a like please if you do. TW for this chapter: Grief // Homophobia [read more] 2003 High School. The bane of my existence. Just as I thought elementary and middle school were terrible, High School really was something else. From my childhood therapy sessions, I learned to conceal my anger, avoid freakouts, and channel my emotions into other things. It was good for me, yeah. But it also made me a more reserved person. Things still made me angry, the other kids at school being a primary key to that. But I never defended myself. Ever. Of course, Jujubee always had my back. Only in later years did I learn to appreciate the times she'd yell at the other kids, telling them to fuck off and whatnot. But back then, I wished she hadn't. It only drew more negative attention. All I wanted was to get through those tough years. I would come home a lot, look at pictures of myself as a child. And I'd be so mad because only then did I see that I wasn't an ugly kid. I was adorable. But, God clearly had favourites 'cause puberty did not do me any favours. If only I had grown up in a more modern time when no one gave a shit about looks. When people were outspoken about the cruelty that came with shaming someone for their looks. When people were more aware of the psychological damage that could do. Again, God had favourites. From years of my eyesight getting worse and needing a new pair of glasses every time I went to the eye doctor, I had thick-rimmed frames that made me look straight out of the 70s. And the lenses made my eyes look huge. I looked like Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. My hair was bigger but full of split ends due to lack of giving a shit about it. I begged Mom to let me bleach it blonde. She always straight up refused. I had braces for a whole year which, yeah, many people had braces, but one time while answering a question in class, I drooled. And no one let me hear the end of it. And makeup wasn't something I really fucked with. I tried it once, safe and sound in my own bedroom, and it looked woeful. Instead of working to get better, I accepted defeat in that I would always be ugly. "I'm serious, girl. The foundation was so bad. And it was too dark." I ranted to Jujubee as we headed to the bus stop. I was trying to smoke my cigarette as fast as I could before getting there. Mom never knew, and what she didn't know couldn't kill her. Of course, I didn't just go into the store and buy them myself. Instead, I took one a day from my Grandpa's supply. "Girl, you gotta test it first." She pointed out, adjusting her bag straps. "Juju, I got the lightest colour they had. I don't fucking get it. Every other girl in the school uses it. Maybelline shouldn't sell this shit." "You just need to find a different brand." She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me

closer, "OK, don't tell my Mom, but I tried some of her MAC shit the other day, and my skin looked fucking flawless." She let me go, took my cigarette from me, taking a toke herself. "Well, how am I supposed to get my hands on that?" I took the cig back. "I don't see any MAC stores around here." "Oh, yeah? Well, you know what your Other World self would do?" Jujubee's brow raised, a sweet grin appearing on her mischievous face. "She would say fuck school, hop on the next bus to Cleveland and go straight to the MAC store." Blowing out some smoke, I looked at her, "Well, Other World you wouldn't be encouraging that sort of behaviour." "No, she wouldn't 'cause she'd be the first on the bus." Jujubee countered. "And she'd start the sing-song." "Yeah, well other world me would out-sing you 'cause she's a star. She's a fucking diva, bitch. Mariah Carey has nothing on her." We were too caught up in our fantasy world; we almost missed the vehicle driving past us. Only when we saw the cackling faces of the boys at the back of the bus did realisation take over. We were going to miss the bus. "Fuck." I uttered, watching the guys still flipping us off as they moved further and further away. To make matters worse, a car pulled up beside us. And of fucking course, it was Trevor Preston, the Captain of the football team. His two sidekicks were in the back seat, Logan and Noah. "Aw, look, guys. The geeks just missed the bus." Trevor fake whined. In these situations, I just shut down. I thought it was for the best at the time, but fuck, if I could go back and punch that guy. "You know what? Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Trevor?" Jujubee squinted her eyes at him. “Wow, little fiesty, Juju.” He continued, "How about this? We all say sorry, and we can both ride with us to school." 'Hell fucking no.' I thought. "Oh yeah? And what's the catch?" Jujubee raised a brow. "You let me feel your tits," Trevor smirked, his two cronies snickered. "Ah, there it is. I thought that was what your pea-sized brain would come up with." Jujubee nodded her head. "So, hey, Brianna," Trevor shifted his attention, "You're awfully quiet. Don't I at least get a hello?" I was still frozen, feeling my anxiety brewing within. "Dude, don't be so sensitive. You know, if she opens her mouth, she'll just drool all over herself." Logan added, the three axe wounds beginning to snicker again. I felt like I should have at least opened my mouth to prove them wrong, or maybe spit on Trevor's car. But still, I just stood there. "Trevor, if you don't fuck off right now, I'm gonna key your car." Jujubee threatened. "Juju." I tried to stop her. "Wouldn't even have the chance, sweetheart. Either of you bitches come near my car; you'll never walk the halls again." How gentleman-like, threatening two girls. Funny how our safety was the price to pay for a car. Oh, men. "Keep that in mind," Trevor concluded before driving away with dumb and dumber. "You didn't have to do that." I looked at Jujubee. "I'm sorry they're such assholes." She replied, taking my hand in hers. I shook it off, however. "No, I mean, I wish you wouldn't do that." Jujubee crossed her brows, "what? So I'm supposed to sit there and just take it? No fucking way." "I know. But," I paused, "they kinda scare me. You know?" "Brie, there's nothing more pathetic than a man sweating over the safety of his ride." She retook my hand, "Don't be afraid of a cunt like him." "I mean, I can try not to. But I can't make any promises." I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the plan? How are we supposed to get there on time?" Jujubee was silent for a moment before replying with, "my Mom?" Her Mom did end up giving us a ride, much to my dismay. I would have preferred to take the day off. Or better yet, to just fucking drop out altogether. But Jujubee was always there to reassure me - I adored that bitch. I would have fucking taken a bullet for her. I would like to say that it wasn't just Jujubee and me, that we had a group of more friends. But these guys, I never really counted them as

friends. A year prior, we both decided to try and improve our social lives by joining a club. The only one that would accept us was the chess club. Every other member was a guy, and they were nerds. Not that Jujubee and I minded. However, the problem was that they only let us in because...well, do I even need to explain? "So, Brianna," Jimmy decided to approach me at the end of one session, licking his hand and sweeping his hair from his face. "Because I beat you twice today, what do I get?" "...Excuse me?" "My prize. What do I get??" He put an arm around my shoulders. I was puzzled, "Uh, you can have my chicken nuggets at lunch." His grin was beginning to disappear. "Oh, I was thinking of something else. A kiss, maybe?" I felt bad for doing it, but my fight or flight response told me to just run from the room. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but these guys were just on another level of thirst. And it wasn't just me who they flirted with. Jujubee had informed me of a time Arnold convinced her to make out with him. She was all for it until she realised how awful of a kisser he was. And as the boys became more desperate, we decided that we were better off alone. Again, I was so grateful for Jujubee. I was surprised she stuck around, considering she had seen me at my worst when we were still so young. How the fuck had she not developed issues of her own? Jujubee was the number one reason I even found the strength to just get up in the morning, drag my ass to school, and do my work - Well, aside from wanting to get good grades so I could go to a good college. The second reason? Blair. Unlike me, she was thriving. Our lives were totally cliche - me being the kid who grew up to be the nerd who only speaks when it's to answer a question. And Blair, growing up to be the head cheerleader. And I was still very much in love with her. What a fucking cliche. I avoided Blair at all costs for several reasons;

differing social circles (in my case, lack of),

her boyfriend, who was the Captain of the soccer team and wasn't shy about giving me and Jujubee grief,

her friends,

and, of course, my massive crush on her.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #denali foxx #rosé #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #high school au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw grief #tw homophobia

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budugaapologist · 4 years

Text

when you are reading this rant take full offense its 2am here and im mad as hell

fair warning this post is long as fuck and has several arguments pertaining to specific peeves i need to rant about before i go crazy. if you're not interested just keep scrolling it's not hard it's literally the core of social media navigation

you know what? ima say it.

black flag is the best ac game and deserves more recognition than just pirate drinking jokes because:

nearly every named character (sorry burgess and cockram) has development and personalities. cant say that for that many others in other games.

not too much fucking shit to do in it (unlike uhhhhhhhh every fucking other game in the franchise. stop it. i dont need 500 treasure chests in arno's game he already has an excellent revenue with the cafe. i dont need a ton of side quests. i dont need 30+ chests per london burough. i dont need a million question marks on my map. i dont need all of egypt or greece to be littered with shit to do. fuck this.).

unlocking shit is so much easier. edward knows where every treasure chest is and doesnt pay for treasure maps. and literally unlocking shit is so much easier.

base is slept on. its fucking cool. its fucking fun. its fucking useful as shit. its fucking pretty as all hell. fuck you.

good story, fun story, great dlc, relatable story (unless youre some bootlicking cowardly rich cunt) emotional story but not depressing (unity im looking at your ending. origins stop killing children.), satisfying end.

i can do the combat with one hand. you know what that means? i can eat and drink without pausing. i can reply to text messages without pausing. i can pet my dogs and cats while playing.

main character actually has changed by the end of the game a vast amount. motherfucker, edward changed more in his antó mission than ezio did in his trilogy.

if you dont complete all objectives you still have a passing score on the mission. do you know what its like to be raised to only get good grades on stuff and see yourself getting a 60% on a thing thats supposed to be a pass time just because you forgot something.

the naval combat isnt hard you just need practice. also i know the hunter ship sucks in the first mission you encounter but literally drop your sails but hold the wheel. once its in view let go. swim to it. take out the crew. swim back. bada bing bada boom go oneshot the crew. incredible, you're safe now.

legendary ship battles are really fucking cool and my mom doesnt yell at me for killing a giant beast for next to nothing.

the sea shanties and tavern songs slap.

farm animal petting simulator. not forced to kill dogs (ac3, odyssey).

obviously its good if the other games are just gonna copy paste it.

ed's tattoos are sick.

edward is literally the first canon bisexual. he literally says so in game. he literally fucking flirts with blackbeard. he literally was a pirate. why the fuck do you think birate is such an accurate pun.

diving outfit.

thicc.

the female characters dont have titties all over the place. even anne's boobs arent that big, which is good considering she is underage. the same cannot be said for many of the women in ezio's games.

guess who has a solid, interesting, and realistic personality. not kassandra or alexios thats for sure.

he is NOT moved by man pain (ezio, connor, bayek) to carry out his missions. he didn't want to be poor, he wanted to be able to provide for his family. he is just carrying out his dream to sail a ship. when he starts being "good", he is doing it out of guilt and shame on his past self (what, self reflection? someone, teach jacob this term), not because "wahh my girlfriend/mom/child/family died :'(", he wanted to make it up to his lost friends by making them proud and doing what they wished he had done. his regrets are in not being a better friend while mary was alive, not seeking out her killers (guards at fort). thatch's death crushed him, but he didn't thrust his anger on seeking revenge. and the characters that did die? they had personalities and development and were interesting and memorable. i cant tell you shit about cristina.

he is very respecting of women, especially for a white guy from the 1600s. he, as a teenager (under 17 i believe), attempted to save a woman he did not know and had no intentions of wooing (hey um ezio? you literally only were able to save cristina from being raped because you stalked her because you thought she was attractive. like thanks for saving her but uhh am i the only one that finds that creepy?) even though the odds of winning against three older men were stacked against him and he knew they could (and almost did) beat him to death. fuck if caroline wasnt there he would've been killed.

the modern day stuff is an excellent way to separate intense scenes and the little mini hacking games are fun puzzles. oh boohoo desmond isn't there? yes he was, half the things you hack literally give you desmond content.

rebecca's outfit fucking slaps.

from experience, its fun to play even if you dont know shit about the other ac games. pirates are cool and the story is easy to follow, just be prepared to find some of the other endings big letdowns or lots of the other games' missions boring.

is that fanservice that goes both ways but doesnt oversexualize any gender? why yes, it is!

stop reducing black flag to alcoholism jokes like yall constantly fucking do, it has so many other talking points and if you wanna make fun of something maybe choose something that isnt addiction. literally i make fun of edward constantly without pointing out his alcoholism it isnt that hard. if you're gonna make fun of edward for drinking rum when water in the 1700s often wasnt safe and making fun of him when he was depressed (he has multiple other intended self harming behaviors shown in game so no, he wasnt just drinking because its fun), why don't i see the same "wHy is aLL tHe WiNE gONe?" posts for arno? he was an alcoholic too. in fact arno and edward have a lot of the same forms of depression but oh, arno's a more serious character personality wise and isn't a pirate so his grieving isn't as funny.

and like, there are plenty of other things to make fun of with edward that might not make light of alcoholism because no, edward's drinking in the main story was not written to be a joke. here, a list of things i regularly make fun of him for:

this highwaisted man's got feminine hips

there is no reason for him to be that thicc

his bangs are a mess

his hair???? glows???? okay rapunzel.

his tatts that are just lines

actually you know what his tatts in general what do they mean ubisoft what even language are the words on his body in

how this whore opens the bottled messages on the beach. "ah yes, let me put this mysterious item in my mouth. i have no idea where its been. i could very well open it to read a note that says "i pissed on this""

"woman i just met... must respect her.. man i just met... im either going to give you a death threat, tease you, or flirt... sometimes multiple choices will be done......"

i mean he had the full right to be a bastard to walpole on the beach since he did try to be friendly but walpole was being to bitchy and needy. and like them being stranded wasnt edward's fault but walpole was still gonna make him build a ship and there is no reason for edward to trust walpole since after they get to havana he can easily just be like "thats a pirate, hang him." but like. the way he just immediately decides to steal his identity. legend.

why does he just blindly follow older men's orders like that

he trims his beard to a very odd location. i know it isn't a flattering pose but like. look at the underside of his jaw.

"how many references to dog behavior can we put in one character"

phobia of sleeping in a bed

"you saved my life i am eternally grateful."

edward are you seriously arguing with your eight year old daughter about the difference between a boat and a ship

where are your tanlines

how did he not die of skin cancer first

edward probably doesnt have any body hair because ubisoft didnt want his legs to glow in the dark too

look at his marooned outfit. bitch what the fuck is on your shirt. and where are your hair ties.

his dramatic beauty guru smokey eyes

he held that sword by the blade in the single madman quest. wh

anyway, the long run of this is, if you're gonna reblog an edward post from me specifically to make fun of an overused joke, go fuck yourself.

#edward #ac4 #i talk #assassins creed #im tired #and im tired of it!#im not saying to make fun of arno's alcoholism btw #just... just because edward tends to behave a little happier doesnt mean he is #both these men are depressed but like fuck mental disorders i guess

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benhardyisdaddy · 5 years

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can u pleaseee do an imagine where reader comes home crying from one of her uni classes bc of her shitty professor. Ben comforts her then has a private talk with her professor.

ooof i love this so much, if yall want angst then here you go 😌

***

“Mr. Anderson? You wanted to speak with me?”

You had walked into your professor’s office and were extremely nervous. This was the first time ever that a professor needed to speak with you about your assignments. You had always turned them in on time and always got good grades, so you were confused when he had asked to speak with you after class. You walk further into the room as the handsome teacher looks up and smiles from his desk. Yes, handsome. He was the teacher all of the girls around campus would whisper about. You had Ben and never even thought about this man in that way.

“Oh, yes. Y/n, please come in. Have a seat.” he says, standing up from his desk.

You make your way over the the leather chair and sit. Mr. Anderson makes his way to the door and slowly closes it, but not before peering outside and looking around. He walks around you and leans against his desk, his arms behind him, holding him up. He looks down at you and you watch as his eyes dart down at your chest for a moment. You look away and find yourself pulling your cardigan over you even more.

“As you know, your grades are good. Like always.” he says, winking to you.

You just awkwardly smile and hold your purse close to your body. This situation was for some reason starting to feel uncomfortable for you.

“But recently, they haven’t been as good like I know they can be. What’s going on in your life right now? New job? Boyfriend?” he asks, curious.

“I’ve had the same job and boyfriend for the last four years.” you say, smiling at the thought of Ben.

The teacher’s grin slightly drops at the mention of boyfriend. He stands up and walks closer to you.

“What if I told you I could help boost your grades up? A lot. What if I told you I could make sure you would graduate with the highest honors?”

Your eyes go wide.

“That-That would be amazing! What has to happen?” you ask quickly, as the man smirks.

“Let’s just say I could give you some extra credit. You up for it?” he asks, getting even closer.

You nod your head quickly and stand up to face him. You were so oblivious.

“Of course! I’m up for anything! Just let me know what it is and I’ll do it.” you say.

Suddenly, the man slowly reaches forward and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. You then realize what he was his intentions were. Your entire body freezes at his touch. You want to swat his hand away, but you can’t move.

“My kind of extra credit isn’t usually something you can just do in the classroom.” he lightly says.

His hand trails down your neck and over your collar bones. You feel yourself begin shaking as his touch feels like knives against your skin. The moment his other hand begins sliding up your thigh, you find your strength. You quickly raise your knee up and connect it with his crotch. The man gasps loudly as he grabs himself and falls to the floor.

“You’re disgusting!” you hiss at him.

You run to the door and rush out of there. You felt like you needed a million showers to get his touch off of you. Tears stream down your face as you sob. You run out of the building and begin walking to your apartment down the road. You run and run until you’re in front of your door. You open it quickly and slam it shut behind you. You lean against the door squeeze your eyes shut as you just sob.

“Babe?”

You open your eyes and Ben’s staring at you with a worried expression on his face. He rushes up to you and cups your face.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks.

You open your mouth to speak, but you just sob again. He grabs you and brings you in for a hug. He holds you close as you shake against him. It felt like your legs were going to go out.

“Mr. Anderson…” you whisper against his chest. “He...”

Ben’s body tenses up at his name.

“He what? Tell me what he did.” he says thought gritted teeth.

“Extra credit. His hands. I couldn’t move.” you just sobbed out, not able to say any more.

Ben just held you close as he tensed his jaw. He understood what you were saying. He’s never felt this kind of anger in his life. He knew the reputation of that professor and watching you break down over him made his blood boil.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m gonna take care of it.” he whispers as he runs his hand through your hair.

—

The next day couldn’t have came any faster. Ben set his alarm to wake up extra early. He slid out of bed not wanting to wake you up. He got dressed and bent down to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll be right back.” he whispers, knowing you can’t hear him.

He leaves the apartment and heads for the university. When he walks up to Mr. Anderson’s office, he knocks on it.

“Come in!” he hears him yell out.

Ben walks inside and spots the man behind the desk. His eyes open a bit wide at Ben’s appearance. Ben’s hands were in fists as he stared at him. The professor slowly stands up and winces a bit.

“Ah, Mr. Jones. What can I help you with? I don’t believe you have any of my classes.” he say, trying to smile.

“No. I don’t. But y/n does.”

The mention of your name makes the professor freeze and his smile slightly drops.

“Ah, yes. I know y/n. Sweet girl.” he says.

Ben tenses at the way he says the word ‘sweet’.

“She said you offered her… extra credit.” he says, tensing his jaw.

The man nods and walks in front of his desk.

“I did.”

Suddenly, Ben strides at him and grips the man’s shirt tightly. He swings him to the side and slams him into the wall, a picture falling down. Ben’s face was red and he was breathing hard. He pictured this man’s hands on you and you being scared.

“If you ever touch her again,” says Ben as he slams him into the wall once more. “I will kill you.”

The man looks terrified as he shakes his head quickly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking abo-”

Ben steps back and swings fast, hitting the man’s nose. He yelps out and covers his face as blood pours down.

“Shut the fuck up!” hisses Ben. “I know what you did and if you ever do it again, you’re nose won’t be the only thing broken. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, I know where you work. Keep your fucking hands off of her if you know what’s good for you. Do you understand me.” he hisses at the man.

The professor stares at him wide eyed and terrified. He nods quickly, not able to speak out of fear. Ben shakes his hands and stands up straight nodding his head.

“Have a good day, Mr. Anderson. Lovely day outside, ain’t it?” he sarcastically asks as he walks out of the room and slams the door behind him.

He knew you wouldn’t be pleased with what he had just done. But no one touches his girl like that. Ever. And he did say he’d take care of it, didn’t he?

#benhardyisdaddy #benhardy #ben hardy #benhardyxreader #benhardy!#benhardyxy/n #ben hardy imagine #blurb #angst

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moodycastiel-writes · 5 years

Text

sacrifice

summary: reader undertakes the trials to close the gates of hell in sam’s place. this is a little au that takes place during the season eight finale!

pairing: sister!reader and winchesters

warnings: angst. lots and lots of angst. foul language. y’know, the usual. there’s not a happy ending with this one. please don’t hate me (:

author’s note: i wasn’t originally going to write the confession, but i had a lot of ideas on how to establish a relationship between reader and the brothers, and i felt having her confess to her sins would make her more of an empathetic character. so yes, this is a small au that i had in mind where reader is sam & dean’s older sister who does the trials instead of sam. (((oh, also, cas does end up believing metatron and him and naomi kill metatron so the angels never fall.))) ((double also, crowley calls reader ‘fatale’, which is a rocky and bullwinkle reference, since he calls sam and dean moose and squirrel. just wanted to throw that out there in case anyone was confused to that reference!)) anywho, yeah, i hope y’all enjoy!!

——————————————————————————————————

You could hear your blood pounding in your ears as you stood at vestibule of the run-down church, your shaking hand loosely holding on to the can of red spray paint, eyes trained on the devil’s trap you painted. This was it. Everything that has happened this past year is finally coming to an end.

You let out an uneven breath as the doors opened gently, the heavy footsteps of your brothers approaching you with caution.

“Do you have him?” you asked, not bothering to lift your tired eyes to meet them.

“Yeah,” Sam spoke, a level of uncertainty to his voice. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I have to,” you answered, turning around curtly and brushing past Sam and Dean, leaving the church as you neared the Impala. It was only a few moments before they were both at your side again, the hot sun doing little to warm the permanent chill that settled into your soul when you first started the trials.

“We should get started,” you said, turning to Dean, “the sooner the better.”

Dean nodded his head and smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He opened the trunk and pulled out a handcuffed Crowley, completely at your disposal. Dean walked the demon into the church to get him ready, leaving you alone with Sam.

“How are you holding up?” he asked you as you grabbed the jar of holy oil from the back seat.

“Fine,” you responded, an unintentional iciness to your voice. “I’ll be better when this is all over.”

Dean walked back outside to meet you and Sam, wiping his hands on his pants. “Crowley’s all prepped and primed,” he turned to look at you, “How we feeling about this?”

“Honestly?” you asked, looking between your younger brothers, “Good. Better than what I have in a while. I think we’re finally going to win. This is all going to be over,” you sighed, a ghost of a smile appearing on your face for the first time in a long while.

Sam clapped a hand on your shoulder, but Dean cleared his throat behind you two. “All right, well, no dancing in the end zone until we're finished. What's the good father's playbook say now?”

You looked around the outside of the church eyes falling over the stained-glass windows. “Well... Now that we got the consecrated ground, I just, uh,” you cleared your throat, “I slip Crowley one dose of blood every hour for eight hours and seal the deal with a bloody-fist sandwich. That oughta do it.”

“Your blood's supposed to be purified, isn't it?” Dean remembered, “You ever, uh -- you ever done the ‘forgive me, father’ before?”

You shook your head, gaze dropping to the ground. “No, never. I have no idea what I should even say,” you admitted.

A thousand things were running through your head. All the countless times you’ve fucked up over the years. From the second your mother burned on the ceiling of Sam’s nursery to now, there was so many things you could confess. All the lies and betrayals, the murders and all the innocent people you’ve let die. Tears pricked your eyes, but you cleared your throat and blinked them away.

“Well, I could give you some suggestions,” Dean tried.

“O-okay, yeah. Sure,” anything could help.

“Alright,” he glanced at Sam, who had a disapproving look on his face. “Well, there was the whole siding with the demons thing. Or, um, ditching me when we were in Purgatory. Saying yes to Michael. Oh, also—”

“I get it!” you cut him off, not believing all the things he was currently throwing in your face. A wave of guilt washed over you, and an unsettling silence washed over you three.

“Well, we’re not getting any younger,” you finally said, passing Sam the jar of holy oil before making your way to the church.

“Hey!” Dean called after you, “Maybe open what you did to Penny Markle? In the sixth grade?”

You shot him a confused look, “That was you.”

Dean paused, the memory of what he did to poor Penny coming back to him. Clearing his throat, he waved you off. “Nevermind! Carry on.”

You rolled your eyes at him and made your way back into the church, closing the door behind you. You did you best to ignore Crowley’s eyes following your every move as you walked into the confession room, taking a seat on the bench.

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath, “if anyone is listening, here we go.” You paused, your eyes screwing shut tightly. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” A cool blast of wind rushed by you, ruffling through your hair. You took it as a sign that someone, somewhere was listening, and continued on. “I have made a lot of mistakes. I have so many regrets, so many sins, that I don’t even know where to begin. I watched my brothers die, so many times, for what? To fulfill some stupid prophecy? I should have protected them. I—” you stumbled on your words, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

You wiped at your face and continued on. “I never should have let Dean sell his soul for Sam. It should have been me. I was supposed to do everything I could to protect those boys. If I just strapped on a pair, Dean never would have went to hell, and the seals never would have been broken. This is all my fault. I have to fix it.” The tears were falling freely down your face now, but you didn’t care enough to wipe them away. “I shouldn’t have let Sam ever say yes to Lucifer. I could have said yes. He never would have gone to Hell and lost his soul. It’s all on me.”

You took in another shaky breath, trying to calm down. “Leaving Dean alone in Purgatory… I don’t even know what I was thinking. I was so stupid,” you let out a humorless laugh. “I thought I was doing my best to protect him, but deep down I was trying to get away from him. From Sam. I caused so much pain in their lives, that it would be better if I just disappeared from their lives all together.

“But those things I’ve confessed, those sins I’ve committed, they’re not even the icing on the cake. I have so many things just piling up that I could sit here forever, but I don’t have enough time. My greatest sin, the tip of the iceberg… What I want forgiveness from the most is how,” your voice broke as you choked back a sob. “My greatest sin is how many times I’ve let my brothers down.”

An ache settled in your chest as you confessed what you never thought you’d say out loud in a million years. Another breeze of wind brushed past you, and you took it as a sign that your confession was over. You wiped your face, leaving behind all the traces of your confession in that booth and stepped out, your guilt weighing on your soul heavier than before.

Crowley stared at you with a smug look on his face, no doubt he heard everything you had just said. Eyeing a roll of duct tape on the table with your gun, the needle, and holy water, you grabbed it and ripped a piece off, tightly taping the demon’s mouth shut.

“Not a word,” you sneered, walking out of the church. You saw Sam and Dean talking with Castiel at the Impala in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out what they were saying from the distance you were at, and crept closer to them to make something out.

“—You’re asking us to leave her, Cas. Now, if anybody needs a chaperone while doing all the heavy lifting, it’s [y/n]” you were able to make out from Dean’s whispering. His confession about you was like a slap in the face. Did he really not trust you that much? Thinking you needed a chaperone for everything you did?

“You should you,” you announced, startling your brothers. You knew Cas was aware of your presence, and did nothing to acknowledge him.

They turn to look at you, a guilty look on their faces. “Seriously,” you added, not wanting to continue this conversation.

“Yeah, and leave you alone with the King of Hell? Really?”

You frowned at Dean, not understanding why he can’t trust you to do this one thing. Did he really expect so little of you where he is always prepared for you to fuck up and need someone to clean up your mess?

“Yes, really,” you snapped. You ignored the look of hurt that crossed over his face. “You two can’t do anything to help me. This is on me. I think I can get through one little thing without fucking it up.”

“[Y/n], you know that’s not what this is about,” Sam said gently. “It’s not that we don’t trust you. We don’t trust Crowley.”

“Crowley is bound to where he sits,” you argued, “nothing, not even the king of Hell, can get through both a devil’s trap and the chains we have him in.”

“Fine,” Dean said, “Start the injections now. If we’re not back in eight hours, finish it, no questions, no hesitation.”

“Yeah,” was all you responded. Castiel placed a hand on each of your brother’s shoulders and with the flap of his wings he was gone, leaving you alone at the church. With a heavy sigh, you made your way back into the building, facing Crowley. His words to you were muffled under the duct tape, but that didn’t stop him from blabbing. With a roll of your eyes, you ripped the tape off of his mouth, ignoring his wince of pain.

“You really think injecting me with human blood is gonna make me human? Did you read that on the back of a cereal box?”

You ignored the demon as you picked up the needle, pushing it into the vein in your arm. You drew enough blood and slowly ejected it, and walked over to Crowley.

“Are you listening to me, brat?”

“Shut up,” you sneered, thrusting the needle into his neck. He howled in pain as you yanked the needle away.

“You're miles out of your league, kid,” Crowley barked at you as you turned your back on him.

“See you in an hour,” you called over your shoulder, walking to the table at the altar. Your arms began to glow that golden color that always appeared after you completed the trials. Why was it showing up now? You bit back your pain, your hands forming into tight fists, waiting for the pain to go away. When the light finally faded from your veins, you let out a breath of relief and sunk to the ground, your back resting against the altar. You looked up at the cracked statue of Jesus on the cross and closed your eyes, waiting for your watch to beep, signalling the next round of injections.

—————————————————————————————————————

When your watched finally beeped after an agonizingly long hour, your were up on your feet as fast as you could get, the needle already in your hand. You ejected more blood from your veins into the syringe and made your way back over to Crowley, who looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You ignored the look in his eyes and issued the second dose of injections into his neck. In the blink of an eye, Crowley’s head turned and his teeth sank into your forearm, hard enough to draw blood.

“What the fuck!” you exclaimed in pain, drawing your arm back and clutching the new wound in pain. You gave him an exasperated look before punching the demon across the face. “Seriously? Biting? What are we, five?”

You shook your head as you walked away from him, placing the needle back onto the table. You spared Crowley another bitch-face as you walked out of the church, slamming the door behind you. You walked to the trunk of the Impala and grabbed bandages to wrap up your arm. As you secured the bandages, your arms began to glow again, and you fell to the rubble on your knees.

“Stop it,” you groaned as the light grew brighter. “Please.”

Finally, the light faded again, leaving you struggling to get a grip on your breathing. With struggle, you turned your body to sit upright against the Impala, your head falling back, staring at the sky. The sun had begun to set in the distance, the sky painted with beautiful sparks of color.

“I can do this,” you whispered determined to yourself, “I can do this.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Another hour had passed by and you made your way back into the church, stuffing more bandages in your pocket before doing so. At the sound of the door opening and closing, you heard Crowley chuckle.

“How we doin’, Fatale? Ready for another round of injections?” he asked, a joyous tune to his voice. You ignored him and filled the syringe with another dose of your blood.

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes,” he began singing, you instantly recognizing the David Bowie song, “turn and face the strange. Ch-ch-changes, just gonna have to be a different man. Time may change me, but I can't trace—”

His singing was cut off by a loud sound, the church beginning to rumble. You quickly turned to face Crowley who seemed unfazed by the sudden shock to the church.

“What did you do?” you shouted at him over the sound of the quake. He remained stoic, but the hint of a devilish smirk rose to his face. The floorboards began to creak under your feet, a large crack running down until it severed the devil’s trap that you painted right down the center.

“Did you really think you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was gonna notice, dumb nuts?”

An expression of fury and fear took over your features as the door to the church were ripped open, Abbadon revealing herself on the other side of the door.

“Now that’s what I call an entrance,” she gloated, patting herself on the back.

“Abbadon?” Crowley questioned. “They told me you were dead.”

“So not.”

“Where’s the rest of the cavalry?”

“It’s just little ol’ unkillable me,” she smirked. You turned quickly, reaching for your discarded gun, but with a wave of her hand, Abbadon sent you flying across the church and into the wall, your head slamming against the wood. You groaned as you landed on your stomach, your vision going blurry.

“Brilliant. Why send in a few grunts when you can send in a knight? Say your prayers, Fatale,” Crowley smirked. You tried to get up, but the Knight waved her hand again and sent you through the stained glass window to your right, immediately falling unconscious.

—————————————————————————————————————

When you came back to, it took you a minute to remember what had happened. You scrambled to your feet, hoping not a lot of time had passed in your impromptu siesta. Looking around for a weapon that you could use against Abbadon, your eyes settled on the jar of holy oil you had given to Sam. He must of left it for you, in cast of an emergency. You let out a silent thank you and patted your jacket pockets, striking gold when you felt your father’s lighter in your pocket.

You crept to the entrance of the church where the doors were still open and peered inside, eyes landing on Abbadon hovering over Crowley. You snuck inside, careful to step around any loose pieces of wood to prevent any unnecessary noises to alert your presence.

“Right now, you and I are going to talk about a regime change,” Abbadon said, crouching down to send another punch to Crowley’s face.

“You little whore,” he barked, “I am your king!”

She punched him again, this time hard enough to shut him up. When she went to stand back up, you ran forward and threw the holy oil over her body.

“Burn, bitch,” you spat, throwing the lighter on her. You watched with a smirk as her body lit up in flames and she screamed in pain as her vessel burned. Her mouth opened wide and she exited the body before any further harm was done to her, and she escaped the church in a flash of black smoke.

Without wasting any time, you made work of picking Crowley back up and fixing the chair so it was back in the devil’s trap. He groaned as he came back to consciousness, watching you with a glint of something… admiration, maybe? to his eyes.

“You did good back there, Fatale,” he congratulated you. “I'll deny it if you ever quote me, but I'm a proud man. I'm proud of you.”

You ignored his comment, instead focused on gabbing the can of spray paint you left on the table to fix the trap where it broke.

“Wait, what are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” you snapped, overly agitated at the events that had just transpired. You finished up the devil’s trap and threw the can to the side, it clattering to the ground noisily.

“Are you joking?” he asked, incredulously. “I just saved your life!”

“Seriously?” you dead-panned.

“Seriously? Me, seriously? We just shared a foxhole, you and I. We beat back the Tet Offensive, outrun the --the Rape of Nanking together! And still you're gonna do me like this?!”

You ignored his tangent and grabbed the needle, filling it up with your blood and jamming it into his neck before he could get another word in.

“Aah! Aah!” he exclaimed in pain, before a whole new emotion washed over him. “Band of Brothers? The Pacific?” he asked. “None of this means anything to you? All those motels, you never once watched HBO, not once?” You shook your head at him, confused at where he was going. “Girls? You're my Marnie, Fatale. A-and Hannah, she just—she needs to be loved. She deserves it. Don't we all—you, me; we deserve to be loved. I deserve to be loved!” he shouted, before lowering his voice back down to a whisper, “I just want to be loved.”

You cocked your head the the demon. “What?” you asked.

A confused look washed over him, and his expression mirrored yours. “What?”

As the moment of Crowley’s tangent passed, a wave of fatigue passed over you. The pain of where the needle was injecting into you suddenly took a toll on you. You walked back over to the table and placed it down, grabbing the spare bandages from your pocket. You wrapped where the puncture wounds were tightly, wishing right about now you had some extra strength tylenol. You took more blood from your opposite arm, wanted to be prepared for the next dose of injections just in case something else was going to happen.

“Would it be possible, Fatale, I’d like to ask you a favor,” Crowley spoke, his voice sounded drained and exhausted. “[Y/n], earlier you were confessing back there, and… well, I didn’t hear much, not really, so I’d like to know what you said.” You gave him a look that read ‘that’ll never happen.’ At the sight of your expression, he instantly clarified his statement. “ I only ask because, given my history...it raises the question... Where do I start...to even look for forgiveness? I mean…” he trailed off.

You paused, shocked at the revelation. The cure, it was working.

“You start with this.”

You held the needle out in your hand, showing him what you meant. Crowley tilts his head to the side, exposing his neck where the marks of the past injections were. You gently pushed the needle through at his submission, and unlike the past ones, he showed no signs of pain, but rather contentment.

“This is going to work, Crowley,” you reassured. “You’re going to be cured, and you’ll be redeemed. I promise.”

A gust of wind blasted through the church, and your arms began to glow again, but this time there was no pain. “We’re almost done,” you whispered, not sure Crowley even heard you. “It’s time.”

You took a deep breath and began the exorcism, the final piece to purify him. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra, lustra.”

As you pulled your knife from its holder, the light grew brighter, and you sliced across your palm. You walked closer to Crowley, and as you were about to feed him your blood, footsteps barreled through the church.

“[Y/n]! Stop!,” you turned at the noise, coming face to face with the worried looks of your brothers. You backed up from them, your hip bumping into the arm of Crowley’s chair, a confused expression on your face.

“Easy there,” Sam coaxed gently, putting his hands up. “Take a deep breath.”

“There’s been a slight change of plans,” Dean said, slightly more aggressive than Sam.

“What? What’s going on?” you asked. “Where’s Cas?”

“Metatron lied,” Sam explained. “Him and Naomi are going to confront him.”

You shook your head at him, still not understanding what was going on.

“You finish these trials, you’re dead,” Dean said bluntly, trying to get you to understand what was happening. You looked between your two brothers, then back at Crowley. You scoffed and shook your head, looking back to face them.

“So?” you said, your voice slightly breaking.

Sam and Dean’s faces melted from worry to an emotion you couldn’t place, but it was somewhere along the lines of hurt and betrayal. Betrayal. Even now, after you’ve confessed and sought forgiveness, you were still letting your brothers down in ways you couldn’t stop. It had to stop. Finishing these trials with your death, it’ll all stop.

“Look at him!” you exclaimed, pointing down to Crowley. “Look at him! Look at how close we are! Other people will die if I don't finish this! Who cares about me?”

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, but you ignored the sensation. Dean took a small step forward, his brow creasing. “Think about it. Think about what we know, huh? Pulling souls from hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a Hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here. But we can't do it without you.”

“You can barely do it with me,” you fired back immediately. The confused look on his face egged you to continue. “I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember?” you couldn’t help the single tear that fell from your eyes as your voice cracked on the last word.

Sam frowned. “That’s not what he meant—”

“No, that’s exactly what he meant!” you exclaimed, cutting him off. You let out a humorless chuckle. “You want to know what I confessed in there?” you asked, pointing to the confession booth with the hand that you didn’t cut. “Do you want to know what my ultimate sin was? The thing that held me down the most?”

When neither of them answered, you continued. “My greatest sin was—is— how many times I’ve let the two of you down. I can’t keep doing it. Not again. Finishing this, it’ll end it all.”

“[Y/N]—” Sam tried, but you continued talking.

You held back a sob as the tears finally began falling. “You two don’t trust me anymore, I can see it in the way you look at me. Like I need one of you with me at all times. You haven’t trusted me in a long time, and it took me awhile to realize it, but now that I have I feel so fucking stupid for not seeing it before.” Another humorless laugh escaped your lips.

“I know I’ll never earn your trust back, there’s nothing else I can do to prove that I love you both more than anything. You don’t see it, and I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of watching you guys turn to other people when you get sick of me.” At their confused expressions, you elaborated. “Who will it be next? Another demon? Another angel? Another vampire?” You shook your head.

“You have no idea what it feels like to see the two people you thought—”

“Hold on, hold on!” Dean cut you off, finally breaking you from your tangent.

“You seriously think that?” Sam questioned, taking a step forward to be back in-line with his brother. “Because none of it, none of it is true.”

“Listen, [Y/n],” Dean began, “I know we’ve had our disagreements, all of us, okay? Hell, I know I have said some really fucked up things to get you thinking the way you are but you need to understand… I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you.”

Your shoulders slumped at his confession, and the tears fell faster from your eyes. You looked between Sam and Dean, then down at your bleeding hand, and in a split second you made your decision. You turned and brought your hand up to Crowley’s mouth, and instantaneously you felt him drinking your blood. The pounding in your ears resumed, and you barely heard Sam shouting words of protest behind you.

You pulled your hand away, and the light erupted throughout your entire body. “Kah-nuh-ahm-dahr,” you whispered. Crowley let out a gasp, his eyes flicking to his demonic red, then faded completely back to his human eye color.

“It worked,” you laughed, turning to face your brothers. They looked at you with wide eyes, not daring to move. You had no time to celebrate your victory of the trials, instead a large rumbling echoed throughout the church, and the ground began to crack again.

This time, underneath the cracks in the ground, a hellish light peeked through, eating away at the floorboards. A hole opened up underneath your feet and you jumped back far enough to the edge, opposite of your brothers as your watched with wide eyes as black smoke broke through all the windows of the church, glass shattering everywhere. The sound of hundreds, if not thousands, of demons screamed as they were forced back into hell against their will. The wind picked up harshly and you were thrown back from the portal to hell, losing the sight of Sam and Dean through the smoke.

When every last demon was through the portal, it closed up tightly, no signs of what had just happened anywhere. When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, you looked across to your brothers, a smile creeping up on your face.

“I did it,” you whispered, pinching yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Your heart hammered in your chest and you groaned at the pressure, stammering back an inch. Immediately, Sam and Dean were at your side as your legs began to give out, helping you to the ground. “I did it,” you repeated, your voice getting weaker, your eyelids becoming heavier.

“Yeah, [Y/N],” Sam sniffled, “you did it.” He gripped your hand tightly, squeezing it in his large one.

You smiled weakly up at him, using what little strength you had to squeeze his hand back. You looked to your other side to Dean, whose eyes were red-rimmed.

“I’m s-sorry,” you whispered at him, at the both of them.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Dean said, finally looking over your pale form.

“You have to… you have to promise me,” you croaked out, struggling to get out your final words. You coughed, doubling over as it overpowered you. Raising your free hand to your mouth, you coughed up blood into it. “No bringing me back,” you finally said. “I’m at peace.”

“You can’t ask us to do that,” Sam said. You turned to look back at him, smiling sadly at him. You grabbed Dean’s hand with your free hand, feeling your last breaths creep up on you. You could have sworn you’d seen a person standing over Sam’s shoulder, but they had disappeared before your vision could focus.

“I love you both, so much,” you whispered, you eyes falling shut. Your grip on your brothers’ hands loosened, and your chest stopped rising and falling. Your head lulled to the side, your body completely still.

You stood over your two brothers, holding your body in their arms as they wept for you. A cold hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned around with a gasp.

“Tessa,” you said, staring at the reaper.

“[Y/N],” she greeted, a welcoming smile on her face. “It’s time.”

You nodded your head and she stuck out her hand. You spared one last look at your baby brothers, and grabbed her hand in yours, your soul leaving Earth to face judgement. You did not know where you were going to end up, if your final quest was good enough to outweigh all the shit you’ve done in your life.

You knew that Sam and Dean would be okay. They always were without you.

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #supernaturalimagine #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #Sam Winchester #sam x reader #sister!reader

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writingkeepsmewhole · 5 years

Text

The Cowboy and The Girl.

Okay here it is the first part of my Joel Miller fic. I’m so excited to do this! You don’t even know. This part is mainly back story but I think it sets up well. Tell me what yall think. I hope yall love it as much as me! Okay I’m shutting up now.

Trish was a bright girl skipping a grade or two. She thought her life was perfect until the end of the world came. Living on her own mostly just trying to make it back home everything changes when she meets a dark haired man named Joel.

Joel Miller x OC Trish

Warnings: A word or two.

Taglist. Tell me if you wanna be added: @amandamaesweetheart @jodiereedus22

Before Sitting on my hotel bed I brushed my hair it still wet from the shower. I needed it after the long day of walking around and looking at the sites. We were in New York. A school field trip. Being alone from my parents at fourteen was definitely exciting.

“You know he is going to propose.” Belle my best friend since the 3d grade says sitting on the bed in front of mine. Her chocolate skin looking flawless from the lotion she just put on. We both skipped from 1st so we stuck together always being the youngest in class.

“Shut up no he won’t.” I say her talking about my boyfriend.

“I bet he will. He is crazy about you.”

“So? We are too young to get married.”

“I said propose not get married.”

“Then what be engaged threw school? What about when we go to college?”

“Why not?”

“Because..”

“Because?”

“I don’t know if I want to marry him.” I say shrugging.

“What? Since when?” She asks throwing a chip at me making me laugh.

“Since he is afraid of everything. I mean I get it his dad is a doctor and it's probably scary and God knows what he reads about or sees but when he starts telling me what weird diseases I can get from doing my laundry at the laundromat is ridiculous. Like tonight I took a drink of his pop and he flipped out.”

“So he don’t like sharing food, a lot of people are like that.”

“Yeah I know but I want a man not whatever he is turning into.”

“Like a lumberjack?” She asks making me laugh.

“No, like someone who will protect me, someone who can put up with my crazy ass and doesn't make me make all the decisions. Someone-.”

“Who lets you steal their food.” She says pointing at me.

“That.” I say smiling.

“No, he is a good guy he just worries so much. Like let me breathe.”

“Ohh I know a cowboy.” She says making me laugh.

“Yes! I want a cowboy I can saddle up with.”

“Kinky.”

“You are so gross.” I say throwing my pillow at her.

“Hey I’m being a supportive best friend.”

“As you should be.”

“Well I guess I should let you get to bed. Have fun dreaming about your cowboy.” She says standing up walking to the door.

“I promise to give you the details.”

“Oh you better.” She says smiling.

“Good night love.” I say waving at her getting under the blankets.

“Night boo.”

I woke up to the phone ringing in my hotel room. I pick it up and press it to my ear someone panting on the other side.

“Hello?” I ask sitting up hearing someone run down the hall.

“Trish is that you?” Asks the familiar voice of boyfriend.

“What’s going on Louie?” I ask sitting up.

“I don’t know, there is some kind of disease, people eating each-.”

“Louie?” I ask into the phone when the call drops.

“Well that was weird.” I say getting up seeing the sun start to rise.

Stretching I walk to the bathroom but stop when someone screams. When my doorknob starts to rattle I back away from it fear pumping threw me.

Going to the phone I pick it up nothing coming threw not even a tile town. I pick up my cell phone it having no service.

“What the hell?” I ask turning to the TV.

Turning it on what I left on a movie channel was the news. A woman looking scared and rasled.

“Reports are coming in from all over there is a nation wide atack. Please remain indoors until a local officer can get you somewhere saver. Please do not panic if you see someone-.” I jump as the TV turns to loud static.

“I gotta get out of here.” I think getting up and quickly changing.

Grabbing my backpack I put some clothes inside it, and all the snacks the hotel offers. Picking up the necklace with my parents picture inside it I put it on. Them giving it to me when I left for this trip.

“Please be okay.” I say sending up a pray to protect them until I got back.

Picking up the map of New York all the students given one I shove it in my bag as well.

I put the pack over my shoulder and open my hotel door. When I find the hallways empty I take a relieved breath.

At the end of the hall being the elevator I slowly start to make my way towards it. Hearing footsteps I freeze up as someone walks out of a room.

“Benny you scared me.” I say looking at him.

He stubbles making me assume he is drunk. When he lifts his head to look at me I gasp as his mouth is covered in blood.

Screaming he lunges at me.

I turn around and starting running in the opposite direction him close behind me. Seeing an arrow pointing to the stairs I push that door open and start running down the steps. Seeing a woman leaning on the wall her holding her stomach I stop.

She looks up at me her eyes foggy.

“He bit me.” She says her head falling forward her passing out.

Holding back tears I continue to the ground floor it opening in the car garage. I jump at the sound of sirens and horns fill my ears.

Every car is trying to get out at the same time them slamming into each other.

“Hey!” Someone says grabbing my arm.

I spin around seeing my best friend Belle standing there.

“Oh my gosh!” I say pulling her into a tight hug.

“We gotta get out of here. These people are crazy!” She says pulling me with her.

“It was on the news. Some nation wide thing!” I yell as we weave threw the cars. When we get out on the main road everyone is running around screaming.

“Trish! Belle!” John yells pulling up next to us him in not his own car.

“Come on.” He says looking at us threw the window.

“It’s better on foot.”

“We’ll be saver in a car.” Belle says getting into the car with him.

“Belle come with me you won’t get far in that.”

“Stop being stupid and come on.” She says waving me in.

“I’m not going.” I say backing up something telling me to stay on foot.

“Be stupid then.” He says driving off.

Feeling alone more than ever I start running not knowing where I'm going just away from here.

Hearing screams I duck down behind some trash cans I alone runs past me and slams into a wall not getting back up when it falls.

“What’s going on?” I ask quickly getting away from the body.

Pulling my map out I look at it seeing where the nearest police station is. Seeing that it’s only a block away I put the map back and start to head that way avoiding the people running past me.

Walking around the corner I realize what they were running from a turned over car is in the middle of the road it on fire.

Even from where I stand I can see the bodies inside them dead. Belle’s lifeless eyes staring into mine.

15 Years Later.

I sit up with a start my heart pounding. Sweating from the dream, or memory I should say. I rub my face trying not to think about the job ahead of me today. I would have to go hunting. I didn’t mind it and wasn’t half bad after ten years of practice but I didn’t know if that group had past threw. I didn’t feel like having to kill anymore.

Hearing the birds chirp outside the spring air drifting thru the old house. I roll my shoulders my back cracking as I stretch my arms over my head.

Picking up my bow and quiver I pick up my canteen needing fresh water.

‘Might take a bath today.’ I think walking out of the house.

It used to be a cabin tourist rented now it was just a cabin in the woods of Tennessee. I don’t know why I kept trying to get back home but I figured I made it this far for a reason.

‘Maybe they are still alive.’ I think following a deer trail.

I walk back to the cabin a rabbit strapped to my hip and a shirt full of berries in my hand. Walking into the house I don’t notice the door being open. The lock was busted a while ago so a breeze could open it.

Setting the food down in the kitchen I take off my bow when the floor over my head cracks. Looking up I watch the dust as something moves over the floor.

‘Please don’t be a bear.’ I think to myself as I dock an arrow and head for the steps.

‘Anything but a bear.’ I think as I push the bedroom door open with my foot.

I stop when I see a man past out on the bed. His feet still on the floor his arm and chest covered in blood. Not counting the busted lip and nose.

‘I would have took the bear.’ I think letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Why do I always have to be the one patching someone up?” I asks myself walking to the bathroom.

Getting what little supplies I had I sit them on the bed.

“Hey!” I call out to him getting nothing.

“Oh don’t be dead.” I say reaching up to shake him again getting nothing.

“Oh come on.” I say pressing my fingers into his neck smiling when I feel a pulse.

“Yes! Atta boy!”

“Now to get you patched up.” I say moving to unbutton his flanel.

I don’t really think about what I’m doing until I hear a groan.

I look up at him his brown eyes meeting mine.

“The hell?” He mumbles his southern accent the first thing I notice.

I don’t bother replying him passing out.

“Alright Cowboy let's fix you up.” I say pushing the fabric to the side an angry gash on his side. His shoulder looking like a stitched up bullet wound had popped back open but other then that he was fine.

Cleaning his side off I set to to sowing him up, him not waking up while I do it. After I’m done I rebutton his shirt and go to make food.

I checked on the stranger in my bed throughout the night him not waking up but he was still alive so I didn’t worry to much.

The next morning I was in the kitchen mixing the berries I found with the nuts I found almost a week ago when I heard a bored creek.

Grabbing the knife on my hip I freeze when an arm wraps around my throat. Judging by the fact my head was pressed against someone’s chest. This was the man from upstairs.

“Good morning to you too.” I say lifting my hands where he could see them.

“Where am I?” He asks his country twang proving my guess.

“Earth last I checked.” I say resulting in him tightening his grip slighting.

“Okay, don’t like jokes sorry. You are in my house. I’m Trish by the way nice to meet you.”

“Who else is with you?” He asks his breath fanning over my face.

“No one. Just me.”

“Your alone out here?”

“Yeah, so if your gonna kill me go ahead.”

“You patched me up?” He asks his grip losing.

“Sure did. One hell of a way to thank someone.”

Grunting he lets go of me and takes a step back. Turning around to face him I realize how big he is. He was easily a head taller than me, his wide shoulders making me feel very tiny.

“Your welcome by the way.” I say him letting out a grunt as he looks me up and down.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Well I was gonna eat breakfast. You are welcome to join me if...” I say meeting his brown eyes.

“You give me your name. Not unless you are cool with being called Cowboy for the rest of your time here.” I say him lifting the corner of his mouth.

“Joel.”

Smiling I hand him my bowl of food.

“Nice to me Joel. I’m Trish.”

5 Years Later: Summer

I was sitting in front of the window watching the sunset the room around me so silent I could almost hear my heart beat. It was times like these when I was alone I wish I could just run away. Live on a farm out in the woods be free. I touch my necklace the locket making me smile. It was tarnished and the picture inside faded but it lasted all these years that I was thankful for.

Hearing footsteps come down the hall I turn my head to look at the door.

The infected couldn’t turn the knob so I wasn’t worried about that. Watching the knob turn I lift my gun it cocked and aimed a familiar face at the end of the barrel.

“Cowboy!” I say grinning lowing my gun.

“Fucking hell Trish what the hell are you doing here?” Joel asks shutting the door behind the girl who’s with him.

“I needed somewhere to lie low.”

“What did you do now?” He asks his scowl set in place.

“Nothing... “

“Wanna try again?”

“Umm I’m sorry but who are you?” The girl asks pulling us out of are soon to be argument.

“Oh sorry I’m Trish and you?”

When she doesn't answer I cock an eyebrow at her.

“Ellie.” She says sighing.

“Nice to meet ya Ellie.” I say smiling holding my hand out to her.

She takes it shaking it and quickly letting go.

“No need to be scared of me. I’m harmless right Joel?” I ask looking at him.

“If you think annoying the hell out of me is harmless then yes you are.”

“He likes it.” I say winking at her as he lays back on the couch rubbing his head.

“You wanna tell me why you are here?”

“I may or may not have stabbed a guard.”

“Why did you go an do something like that?”

“He thought he knew something about you and Tess smuggling and try to get it out of me. So I made him forget.”

“That how you got that.” He asks most likely looking at my busted lip.

“I've had worse.”

“So you two like know each other?” Ellie asks looking between us.

“More or less.” Joel says closing his eyes.

“Five years. We’ve known each other for five years.” I say looking at her.

“How did you two meet?” She asks sitting in the chair next to me.

“Oh I’m not getting paid enough for this.” He says rubbing his face and laying down on the couch.

“Need a nap old man?”

I grin when he lets out a growl.

“Does he know his watch is broken?” Ellie asks making me look from Joel to her.

“Yeah he knows.” I say softly hoping she understands that's a topic that is not talked about.

I was the type to tell you my whole life story. I knew Joel for five years and only in the past year found out he even had a child at one point.

“So how did you two meet?”

“Oh right, I was living in a cabin at the time, come home, find him half dead on my bed. I patch him up and when he comes to he repays me but trying to snap my neck. Fun times really.” I say smiling getting off the busted heater I was sitting on.

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because he is an angry old bear that gets poked easily.” I say walking to my bag but stop when Joel’s hand wraps around my wrist.

“Will you two shut up?” He asks his eyes never opening.

“What are we supposed to do if we can’t talk?”

“I’m sure you will figure that out.” He says letting go of my wrist his arm going to lay over his eyes.

“Fine.” I say moving to the other end of the couch I push at his feet making them fall off the couch him lifting his head to glare at me.

“What? You and little miss are clearly waiting for something Tess I’m guessing and if Im not aloud to talk then I got to find some way to kill the time.” I say sitting down.

“What should I do?” Ellie asks looking at me.

I don’t get to reply Joel putting his feet in my lap a smirk on his face his eyes once again closed.

“I’m gonna kill him.” I mouth to her making her snicker.

Smiling I lean my head back on the couch letting the silence settle over us. Sleep quickly taking over me.

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ughthatimagineblog · 6 years

Text

not your baby (part one)

steve harrington x reader | part two

requested: Okay first off, "I'm Their Healer" is AMAZING and i loved the plot twist at the end!! You are extremely talented! Could you maybe do a Steve Harrington x Reader that involves the reader being a shy, but really sweet and caring new girl that accidently pisses off Billy somehow and Steve comes to the rescue? Id love for him to get revenge and kick his ass. Then the girl meets the Party (and loves Max cause they both have red hair?) WOW thats specific sorry so dont do it unless you want to!

warnings: cussing, slow burn steve, steve and reader fued, billy hargrove

word count: 2197

a/n: hey so this will come in two parts, it was a request from a super cool girl and i hope yall like it! its a slow burn btw

In Hawkins, there were distinct characters. Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, you and of course, Billy Hargrove. Five different personalities, all in one high school. You moved to Hawkins about a year ago and since then, befriended Nancy and Jonathan and in turn Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins High. You tended to gravitate to more of Jonathan’s crowd and you befriended him first. You were soon introduced to Nancy and you and her became study buddies and the best of friends. You spent months, an entire summer in fact spending the night with her, chatting and of course studying. She eventually trusted you with telling you the story of last Halloween when a girl from Hawkins lab went rogue and fell in love with her little brother. How there was a huge monster her and her boyfriend had to fight off with your friend from photography and yearbook. How she lost her old friend to the other dimension in which said monster came. You, as would any sane person, didn’t believe her. Especially when she told you who her boyfriend was. Steve Harrington. You’d heard his name through whispers and shouts in the halls. You’d seen him in passing and with one look at his friend group, you decided you never wanted to be involved with a guy like him. He was arrogant, narcissistic and popular. All things you hated.

You never questioned Nancy’s attraction to him, however, seeing as you weren’t one to judge. In fact, you found yourself crushing on Jonathan. Why wouldn’t you? He was your friend, you had photography with him, you had similar music taste, you both were semi-outcasts. It made sense. And you liked things that made sense. As summer was coming to a close, you pushed the thought of the ‘Upside Down’ to the back of your brain, dismissing it as some local folk tale, but you never brought it up to anyone outside of Nancy and her room. This year, Nancy had completely different classes, and suddenly it was a new school again. You knew no one in your class and you realized you really only had two friends at your school.

Popularly known but not popular, you thought to yourself, taking a seat in your English class. You watched as people slowly trickled into class before the bell would ring and you nearly sunk halfway down your seat when you saw Steve walk into the classroom. “Oh God.” You muttered to yourself and Steve stopped in his tracks. He had been on his way to the back of the room, but instead, plastered a smirk on his face and sat in the seat next to yours. He recognized you immediately. You were his girlfriends new best friend. Except you also hung out with Jonathan who made you uncool in Steve’s eyes. She’s kind of cute, what a shame. Steve thought to himself, taking a seat next to you. Then and there, he heard you and knew it was going to be easy to get under your skin. “Nope, not God, just Steve Harrington.” He replied to you and smirked. You rolled your eyes. Great. You thought. “I’ve seen you hang around my girlfriend, though I never learned your name-”

“And you won’t.” You said, stacking your books on top of each other and moving to the back of the class. You were adamant on that. When the teacher came in, you rushed to the front of the class, introduced yourself quietly and told him it was imperative that he call you by your nickname for roll call everyday in class. It was just to get a rise out of Harrington and if you could do that just to make him even a little annoyed, you’d do it. Satisfied, you sat in the back of the room for the rest of class, a smirk planted on your face.

“What’s that new girls name, your friend?” Steve asked, climbing into the drivers side while Nancy, in the passenger. “She’s not new, Steve, she transferred here last year.” “Yeah her. It’s a wonder she didn’t get involved in everything, seeing as she showed up right in the middle of it.” Steve was staring blankly out the windshield window. “Yeah, well, I told her about it and-” “You told her?” Steve exclaimed. Nancy looked at him with wide eyes. “That could get us killed, Nance.” He scolded. “She’s safe. She promised not to tell, besides I don’t think she even believed me, okay? It’s over now, we can drop it. We won’t have to deal with it ever again.” Nancy reasoned and Steve sat back in his seat. It was halfway through September. And a month later, Nancy would be proved terribly wrong.

If someone last year were to tell you there was a guy who you would hate more than Steve Harrington, you would laugh in their face and tell them it was impossible. But the 1979 Chevy Camaro pulled up to Hawkins High and it gave you a bad feeling. You were correct. It was the beginning of October and a new family, the Hargrove family had moved into Hawkins. Billy Hargrove would be joining your English class, much to your, and surprisingly Steve’s horror and his younger sister, Maxine, would be joining Mike Wheeler, Nancy’s younger brother in his eighth grade science class.

All was well and normal until the mullet-haired ass waltzed in the door. Now, over the past month, you and Steve had developed a frenemy type relationship. You were his girlfriend’s best friend and he was your best friend’s boyfriend. There was a silent truce amidst the silent jabs you two would make at each other. And the both of you could recognize a threat when you saw one. When Billy stepped in, you and Steve exchanged looks. Worried looks. He walked in with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a smirk on his lip. His blue eyes found yours and you made a face. He feigned a sad one that was immediately replaced with his smirk again and you wanted to barf. “Um, sir. You can’t smoke in here.” The teacher informed. Billy’s eyes tore away from yours and looked at your teacher. “Right, right, my bad.” He reached up and took another long drag before removing the cigarette from his lips and flicking it into the trash can. “Thank you. Now what’s your name?” Your teacher asked. “Billy. Billy Hargrove.” Even his name sounds ludicrous. You thought to yourself. “Okay, Billy, welcome to Hawkins and have a seat.” The teacher said happily, adjusting his role papers. You looked around, scanning the room for where he would sit. It came to your knowledge and dismay that there were no other seats. Except for the one next to your own. You looked to Steve who was still seated in the spot in the front. The place he mockingly took in the beginning of the year. Assessing the situation, Steve stood up quickly, his books fumbling in his fingers as he tried to gather them. “Uh, Mr. Mitchell, Billy can have my spot and I’ll move to the back.” Steve stood up right as Billy was about to pass him. Billy had been staring straight at you with the same grin, no doubt happy he had scored a spot next to a girl. In the back of the class. Now, his head turned to look at Steve, grin nowhere to be seen. Behind the two boys, you heard Mr. Mitchell speak. “That’s very nice of you Steve. You can take a seat in the back, then. Billy, you can have Steve’s spot.” Your teacher said with a smile, unbeknownst to the current, testosterone filled drama that was playing out before your eyes. “Yeah, it was real nice of him.” Billy spat before taking a seat up front while Steve joined you in the back. “Wow, Steve, you really took one for the team. Be any nicer and I’ll think you actually like me.” You leaned closer to Steve and whispered. His head snapped to look at you, a glare crossing his features. “Don’t get too cocky. I don’t know who this guy is but he seems like an ass and I couldn’t do that to my girlfriend’s best friend. Don’t get it twisted.” You sat back in your seat, mulling over his response. It was valid.

You would come to realize how valid it was in the next three weeks. You were invited, courtesy of Nancy, to the Halloween party that you and Jonathan were not so thrilled about. “I don’t know, Nance, that’s not really my kinda deal.” You explained, holding the flyer in one hand. “I agree. I’m probably going to watch some scary movies with my mom anyways.” Jonathan backed you up. You blushed. “C’mon! You both are single. It could be a really fun time. You could meet someone.” She pressed and upon realized she wasn’t going to let up, you agreed. “Okay. I’ll go.” You threw your hands up in mock surrender. “Y/N…” Jonathan tried. He looked defeated. “Sorry,” You said suddenly feeling guilty. “She’s right.” You fessed. Recently, you took note of the way Jonathan looked at Nancy. He liked her. There was no denying that. This party was a perfect excuse for you to try and move on from your crush. “We are single and maybe this could be good for us.” You pried.

“I’ll think about it.” Jonathan said before walking to class.

The night of the party, you decided to go as Samantha Baker. Getting ready was easy, but preparing yourself for a high school party. Now that took some work. There would be dancing, drinking, sex in other rooms probably. Everyone who was officially cool was there. You would be out of place. You were starting to hope Jonathan did decide to come. Not just because you liked him, but also because you were hoping not to feel too alone. You pulled up to the house and you could already hear the music they were playing. Some guy was throwing up in the lawn outside and there were several couples making out on the porch. You wanted to turn around and go home. But you stayed, hoping you didn’t arrive too late for Nancy’s taste.

Just as you were opening the door to go inside, a figure opened it and walked briskly past you, almost knocking you over. “Hey, watch it-” You called out, turning around only to see it was Steve. With tears in his eyes. “Hey, Steve, wait up.” You called after him, now semi-concerned. It wasn’t every day you saw the King cry, and now that you had, it made you uncomfortable. And very concerned. You followed him. “Steve, wait.” You called after him as he walked further from the house. The house the party was held at was at the end of a long dirt drive so you and him had walked far enough to where you could still see the residence, but the sound of the music was faint. “What? What? What do you want?” Steve asked, sounding annoyed. “I want to know what’s wrong, damn.” You replied. “I saw you crying. Is everything okay?” You asked, genuinely concerned. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Y/N. Just laugh it up, okay?” Steve replied, bitter. Your stomach dropped. “What is your problem? I followed you out here because I was-” “Jumping at the chance to see the guy you hate, the big bad King cry? Is that it? Want to get a good laugh? Well get a good look, Y/N because here I am. The whole popular guy facade down, you caught me. The rest is… The rest is bullshit.” He ranted and you felt taken aback. Offended. “I wanted to see if you were okay, Steve. I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to help because something is obviously wrong.” You replied, voice firm and almost hoarse from getting teary-eyed. Steve put his hands on his hips and looked at you with a side-glare. “You don’t have to pretend, okay? You don’t have to pretend like you care. I know you hate me. So you can cut the bullshit and leave me alone.” Steve said, sounding hurt. “It’s not bullshit, Steve. I was genuinely concerned because guess what? When push comes to shove I’m-” “’You’re my girlfriend’s best friend’? Well, you don’t have to play that role anymore because Nancy isn’t my girlfriend anymore. So you no longer have to force yourself to be nice to me.” Steve said, turning from you, scraping his feet on the paved dirt. You were astonished at his words. Him and Nancy broke up. The words rang out through your mind. “Steve, I had no idea-” “Save it. I don’t need your fake niceness. Like I said, you can cut the act. Just go.” He was pushing you away with his words and for the first time, something Steve Harrington said actually hurt you. “I wasn’t faking it.” Was the last thing you said before turning, and heading back to the party, leaving Steve to wonder what that really meant.

hope you liked it! this is part one!

@izzy-zzz

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #not your baby part one #not your baby

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