#hes so annoying and a brat and the worst <3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blkkizzat · 6 months ago

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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 2

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): okay so you finally realized how badly you fucked up. but is it too late? will choso even talk to you now? has he moved on for good or is it that you now have to worry about someone else moving onto him? ⋙ side effects (tw): more drama. more angst. teasing. jealousy. thirsting. mentions of sex and oral sex. intoxication with drug & alcohol use. sending nudes. y/n is still a brat. bitchy sorority sisters. party culture. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 8.2k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. i appreciate y'all liking this sm hope you don't mind i split this up more, but the second part was getting too unruly in length lol

Plug!Choso who you thought forgetting about would be relatively easy. Overwhelmed with the sheer amount of new presidential duties, you had no shortage of various meetings to keep you occupied. Even so, Choso had a way of popping into your mind as the most routine things would remind you of him.

You couldn’t go get a fresh set of nails without expecting to see his tinted blacked-out sedan parked outside waiting for you. Scrolling socials had also become annoying as you’d see a post and immediately want to send it to Choso— your sorority sisters would think you were gross if you sent them mukbang videos. You couldn’t even bake anything anymore, especially anything chocolate, without reminding yourself of how much Yuji hated nuts in his chocolate chip cookies.

Or even now when you had been walking across campus with your sisters and chatting about the massive proposal plan of next year’s sorority activities. A daunting task on its own which you had to submit to your national chapter by the end of the month. In fact, there were a lot of tedious things you realized you’d now be responsible for as president.

However, all of that flew out of your mind when a car sped by blasting a familiar rock song— one that Choso always played.

Stopping in your tracks you whipped your head around but the music was coming from a completely different car. The disappointment in your chest felt like you were suffocating.

The song was the first one from Choso’s ‘stoner emo boy playlist’ that you’d actually admitted you liked so he made sure to play it whenever you came around. You didn’t think you were official enough to have a song, but it felt like you did when you’d heard it just now.

Although what pained you more in the moment was the fact Choso hadn’t even bothered to text you since the day of the brunch. Your pride and guilt kept you from texting him initially but after the first week you caved and did what you once thought was unthinkable— texting a guy first.

You’d thought he’d answer instantly, happy you’d finally forgiven him for nearly ruining your brunch and you did want to apologize for missing Yuji’s game. But when 20 minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into the entire day you realized he was ignoring you.

Choso was a dealer.

He always had his phone on him. In fact, Choso used to respond to you so fast you wondered if he’d always kept your messages up on his screen.

The seriousness hits home when more of your texts go unanswered as the days go by.

You huffed.

Two weeks had passed since you first reached out and apparently Choso was still giving you the cold shoulder. Unconsciously chewing on your manicured french tips, your intrusive thoughts paint the absolute worst scenarios.

This was around the time of day he’d usually be on campus and you’d meet up in the empty garage.

Would he be there now doing another deal?

Or giving ‘discounts’ to another girl?

You shook your head. Choso wasn’t like that.

You knew he wasn’t.

Then again he had stuffed your guts in less than 10 minutes of knowing each other.

But you were the exception right? Choso wouldn’t move on just like that, would he?

Rejection wasn’t something you had dealt with often in your life or well, ever.

You’d gotten everything you wanted since you were little whether it was something you worked for or something given to you.

So what if you didn’t have Choso?

You should be content with life.

You had everything you’d ever wanted right now.

You were pretty, got damn near perfect grades and now had the title of sorority president for fuckssake!

Meeting someone like Choso was never part of your plans and didn’t fit into them either, so you had never really considered what the both of you were to be anything long-term.

Nor did you ever stop to consider what he thought of your relationship.

You thought he’d lick his wounds for a few days and forgive you. However with each passing day the thought he might really be done with you sinks in more and more.

Regardless of the legion of frat guys who would jump at the chance to date you, the only guy you really wanted right now apparently wanted fuck all to do with you.

Ok so maybe you deserve the silent treatment.

A lot.

You never been that big of a bitch to him before. But you really had panicked when he showed up out of the blue with your parents on the way! Also if he didn’t go and threaten the DJ like he did???

You sighed.

No, even under more peaceful circumstances the end result was you weren’t going to leave to go to Yuji’s game. You couldn’t blame him for being furious with you as you knew how protective he was of his younger brother but you at least wish he’d hear you out.

Just for one last time and maybe you could make it up to Yuji too?

Get him a nice gift for missing his little league game and bake him chocolate chip cookies—without the nuts. You wanted to hear him adorably ramble on which would always be accompanied by animated hand movements while he gave you the rundown. Yuji often roped in Choso as well, who would be all too happy to play whatever role or prop Yuji needed him for.

Their identical grins, goofy and filled with joy never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile which came easy as there was never any demands put on you when you were with them. No pretending for the sake of appearances, no worrying about social standing and no expectations for favors.

With them you were just you and they had accepted you.

But had you accepted them?

Shit.

Yeah you had fucked up big.

You knew you needed to talk to Choso and if you weren’t all but certain Choso would slam the door in your face, you’d have half a mind to go pop up at his house.

Although maybe if Yuji ans—

“—Like HELLO!? Earth to Prez!”

Your train of thought abruptly comes to an end when one of your sorority sisters—Brianna—rudely snaps their fingers in your face.

Bitch.

She’d been bitter ever since she’d lost the presidency to you.

Elections were over so you didn't have to worry about staying on everyone's good side like you had been doing for the last 3 years of being super sweet and non confrontational. Even so, snatching up a fellow sister certainly wouldn’t make a good impression for a newly appointed president.

“What IS it Brie!?”

Turning to face her you had no choice but to keep your cool.

“Don’t give me attitude! You’re the one not paying attention, space case.”

Brianna huffed accusingly.

“Yeah, Brie’s kinda right Prez, you’ve been a little bit distracted lately.”

Another one of your sisters chimed in—immediately looking down when your eyes narrowed on her.

“Don't tell me the pressure is already getting to ‘Little Miss Legacy'? Or—”

Brianna flips her hair with a sly smile before continuing.

“—is it just that you miss your burnout stalker boy?”

“E-Excuse me!?”

Extremely disarmed by the allegation, you were not expecting in a million years the very person you were thinking of to be brought up like this by Brianna of all people.

“You know—you’ve been acting off since the brunch a few weeks ago and we used to be practically swimming in za—way more o’s than we paid for. You must have been doing something to get all that from that future convict and he must be pretty pissed with you if you haven’t been able to get anymore since.”

The rest of your sisters were gagged at the accusations Brianna was tossing your way as it was true that your supply had been dwindling. Their eyes darted between the two of you but mostly focused on you waiting for your response.

You ignore them though as all your ire was on Brianna.

This whore had some fucking nerve speaking about Choso like that.

The thought of knocking the smug look off Brianna’s face is almost too tempting —presidency be damned.

Yet your own guilt stops you.

Too little, much too late for you to be standing up for Choso now the way you had dismissed him so harshly in front of Brianna and the rest of your sisters just a few weeks ago. You could only be mad at yourself, your own actions showed them how to treat Choso.

That didn’t mean you were going to let her get away with it without a proper lashing though.

“Listen—Brie, Little Miss Legacy is busy juggling the presidency, a 3.8 gpa, volunteer work and planning every goddamn sorority event worth attending. As for you? Well I heard you’d been pretty busy these days juggling your creepy ass T.A. Noaya’s balls because you were going to fail Biology again for the third time—so do you really want to talk about pressure or whose fucking whom for what?”

Standing up for yourself wasn’t something you ever did in an effort to be likable and so Briana, as well as the rest of your sisters, were stunned into silence.

Even if her fucking for grades had been no secret, it wasn’t something anyone talked about out loud and yet you’d gladly air her out again for insulting Choso.

“Urgh, whatever! Anyways while you were daydreaming we were planning Jeremy's birthday party on Saturday.”

You rolled your eyes at the inattention to some random frat guy’s bday being the reason for this whole confrontation.

“Oookay and—?”

“—and we need you to get some more za from your stalk— er um, I mean your plug...”

Brianna quickly corrects herself seeing your eyes flare.

“Jermey wants a joint filled pinata and we don’t have nearly enough right now to roll all those joints.”

You suck your teeth in annoyance.

Of course it all had to come back around to Choso.

“I’m not talking to him right now. We’ll find someone else.”

Well it was half true, more like he wasn’t talking to you.

You tried not to pout and completely give yourself away at how much it really was affecting you.

“Well start again, Prez! You know his stuff is the best!”

“We already promised everyone we’d have it!”

“Please Prez!”

The rest of your sorority sisters chimed in.

“Yeah Prez it shouldn’t be a problem. Send him an ass pic or something, I bet he would respond to that.”

The rest of your sisters giggled in agreement.

Little did they know you had already sent Choso nudes 8 days ago, which when you checked Snap last just 10 minutes ago he still hadn’t opened yet.

You’d die before admitting that though.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“Knew you would Prez!”

Brianna tossed you a fake smile as she turned around and your sisters followed suit walking back towards the sorority house. The chatter now moves on to drink options as the previous conversation is instantly forgotten.

You still flip the bitch off behind her back though before you catch up to join the conversation lest these dumb bitches skimp out on drinks for more decorations and have you all drinking Monarch vodka again—gross, much more so than a mukbang video.

Plug!Choso who later that night has you laying on your bed staring at your phone suspended over you, your finger hovering over the send button.

What if he ignored you this time too?

Worse—what if he had finally blocked you?

Well all your messages had gone through so far even though his read receipts were off.

Choso hadn’t blocked you yet.

Only two days had passed since you last texted him but scrolling through your history the wall of blue taking over the entire screen had you feeling vexed.

Hadn’t Choso punished you enough?

Biting your lip in apprehension you hit send.

You almost dropped your phone on your face. Sitting up in your bed you stare at his text incredulously as the sticker shock of Choso jacking up the price by $150 hits you.

You deserved that, you supposed.

But fuck you knew you’d have to come up out of pocket yourself for the extra and you couldn’t admit to your sisters why the price had gone up so much again.

At least he was answering you though.

You threw your phone across your bed.

Well that went super.

You’d hope you’d have the chance to talk about things while he was responding to you, maybe get him to video call you? You knew he still wouldn’t be thrilled with you but you didn’t expect his responses to be that short once he finally answered.

Choso always over texted you if anything, sending paragraphs at times so these clipped messages were like tiny daggers pricking you with each one you received.

You didn’t think you could handle him being mean to you like this for much longer.

Getting a taste of your own medicine fucking sucked.

With a sigh you had decided to push it to the back of your mind. It was Tuesday and he wasn’t even coming until Friday.

That’s when you realized Choso implied he was coming to you.

As in your sorority house.

On Friday.

The night of the Barbie’s Dreamhouse Kegger.

Goddamnit.

Plug!Choso who shows up to your sorority house on Friday night just before midnight when the kegger is at its peak. Choso doesn’t give a single fuck this time around that he sticks out like a sore thumb with his dark tattered jeans, matching leather jacket, heavy eyeliner and metal piercings amongst all the colorful and peppy pastel attired party-goers.

Choso waltzes right through the front door like he owns the place.

“Oh! It's you! Finally!”

Flipping her hair behind her to show off her ample cleavage, your sorority sister Brianna bounces over to Choso who continues to look past her as his eyes scan the foyer.

To be honest he wasn’t even sure she was talking to him until she mentioned you.

“You’re the plug, right? Choso? Here for Prez, hmm?”

Brianna appraised Choso with a flirty glance and a smile.

“I’m Brianna, but everyone calls me Brie. She’s outside with her boys! I’ll take you there, kay?”

Her boys?

Brianna batts her eyes sweetly to complement her peppy demeanor.

Choso simply nods, appearing unphased as Brianna grabs him by the arm of his jacket to lead him through the sea of people crowding the hall and out to the backyard. The very same backyard where you had rejected and humiliated him to save your own superficial social standing just a few weeks ago.

Of course he hadn’t forgotten.

Choso noted this time though the expansive yard had a completely different vibe from the pretentious scene he’d walked into before. The backyard was now filled with pink inflatable decorations and rose gold plastered party supplies, trading the expensive crystal for matching pink solo cups and decorative flower displays for shotskis.

Yet Choso’s comparisons end once he finally spots you in the crowd.

Playing beer pong with some frat fucks, carefree like you had zero concerns (or thoughts of him) in the world as you taunted your opponents.

Choso’s eyes narrow when you—clad in a scandalously small pink sparkly tube top—brought a dainty manicured nail to your chest and seductively dragged it down your cleavage to tug at the hem of the fabric. The tops of your tits swell over the edge of the material provocatively as you tease the chance they might altogether spill out onto the table if you pulled any lower.

The plan worked and your opponents thoroughly distracted missed their shots much to your amused squeals and Choso’s growing irritation. His brow twitched as he noticed the rest of your outfit which barely provided any more coverage.

The matching mini skirt you wore rested low enough on your curvy hips to show the very edges of your thong but high enough on your thighs that your cheeks were nearly peeking out just from the slight bend you took as you aimed to take your next shot. Your pink jeweled belly ring (that he’d bought you) and gem adorned nude fishnets lead down to chunky hot pink glitter pumps only calling more attention to your lower half as they were illuminated by the outdoor tiki lights.

Why were you dressed like such a slut and letting those greasy shitheads drool all over you?

Your beer pong partner was clearly exaggerating his drunkenness for an excuse to feel you up as his hand rested dangerously close to the top of your ass as you took your next shot.

Were you that clueless?

Choso’s jaw clenches as you allow yourself to be pulled in by the shoulder tits first into a celebratory hug after landing a cup off a bounce, thus removing two. The way you’d casually let those assholes gawk and grab at you when you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him in public pisses him off like none other and reminds him why he had decided to cut you off after all.

This time though Choso doesn’t march over, masking his resentment with nonchalance as he considers leaving altogether.

Sure he needed the money—but it wouldn’t make or break him in the long run.

Keeping the big picture in mind, Choso had Yuji to think of and he couldn’t afford to catch a case over your slutty ass if he actually gave into the urge to knock some random frat fucker’s teeth out.

Yet Choso switches his attention back to Brianna when she returns with a beer filled cup for him and her sheer top unbuttoned even lower.

Oh?

Choso grins.

Plug!Choso who you finally notice standing near the back door of your sorority house next to—Brianna?!…urgh!

Her obnoxious high-pitched laughter loudly cut through the music and party chatter to draw your attention over.

What the hell was Choso even doing with her?!

You grit your teeth as Choso takes the drink. You watch as he reclines against the house and cheers cups together. Brianna is twirling her hair innocently as she flirts with him, giggling like an idiot.

One without an ounce of shame at that.

You seethe as she clutches onto his bicep pulling herself closer and resting her tits on his arm when she pretends to momentarily lose her balance.

Stupid cunt ass bitch.

You know it's just to spite you too.

Of course Brianna still didn’t know of the true nature of your relationship with Choso for certain but a backstabbing whore like her would try to fuck him solely off an inkling.

If anything just so she could say your ‘stalker’ was now hers.

She was just using him! Did Choso not see that?!

Your beer pong partner slides his arm around you to tell you it’s your turn again but you don’t even spare him a backwards glance as you shrug him off. Abandoning the game and ignoring his puzzled calls after you.

Truthfully it doesn’t even register as you are on your warpath with Choso and Brianna in your sights, stomping directly towards them like you were on a mission. You were too, as far as you were concerned, determined to break that shit up expeditiously.

Especially now as you see Brianna airdropping her contact info to Choso.

Stopping directly in front of them you’re far too tipsy to prevent your souring mood from spreading all over your face when they both seem to not notice you right away.

You loudly clear your throat.

“AHEM!”

Staring at Choso expectantly your lip curls when it's Brianna who greets you first instead.

“Oh Prez, my B girly! We didn’t notice you there!”

“Whatever, Brie.”

You sneer at her.

Although Brianna only giggles again, feigning innocence and leaning into Choso a bit more.

The whore was still touching up on him.

“I was just keeping Cho here company until we found you.”

Bullshit, they were searching fo– Hol’ the fuck up—CHO?!

Did this whore just call him Cho?!

That was your fucking nickname for him! Only you and Yuji were allowed to call him that!

Oh Brianna was just begging for that ass whooping, dying for it even.

Swaying on your feet, your buzz only intensifies your anger and folding your arms in front of you serves two purposes at the moment:

To keep your balance as you try to prevent your heels from sinking into the grass— but more importantly— because the urge to yank a bitch was escalating to the point your hands were now twitching.

You had drank way too much in your nervousness waiting for Choso.

You thought a quick round of beer pong would settle your anxieties as you’d been hanging out near the front door all day and night not knowing when he’d show up. However time had slipped away from you and one game had turned into three.

You didn’t even really know the guys you were playing with, just some random freshman!

Of course once you finally let your guard down Choso would not only show up but be hanging out with your biggest opp!

But what really had you about to crack—Choso was taking his sweet time in acknowledging you as he appeared to be more concerned with checking Brianna’s contact info than speaking to you right in front of him. “Ight, got it.”

Choso confirmed and slid his phone back into his jacket before pulling out a joint as he finally made eye contact with you.

THE FUCK!? HE ACTUALLY SAVED IT?!

Plug!Choso who stares at you with a condescending smirk as his eyes twinkled with sadistic amusement before exhaling smoke towards the sky.

You bite your cheek to hold back your angry tears, you weren’t about to give Brianna the satisfaction. She could fuck right the hell off as far as you were concerned, only wanting to speak to Choso who was currently looking at you like you were the one interrupting something.

“W-Why didn't you text me you were here?! I would have come outside!”

Your words fumble out of you drunkenly, not sounding one bit as smooth and unbothered as you hoped.

“For why tho? Don’t you have me silenced anyway, Prez?”

You stiffened.

Even if he wasn’t silenced right now you couldn’t deny you had previously silenced him before the last few weeks of trying to get him to talk to you.

“Yea figured—so thought it’d be best to come inside…”

Choso exhales smoke through his nose this time, leering down at you as he passes the joint to Brianna who eagerly takes it.

“You really think I’m still tryna wait for you?”

Choso’s words are crushing as the double meaning behind them is not lost on you. Parting your glossed lips you couldn’t even form a sentence as your mouth had gone completely dry.

Brows raised Choso is practically daring you to challenge him.

But you’re frozen.

Ironic, because his eyes are all but intensely burning into yours as his accusingly cruel question penetrated you like a hot knife to butter.

However, bringing you back, Brianna interrupts the moment—because of course she does—not being able to read the damn room nor handle the attention being away from her for 5 fucking seconds.

“You know Prez… You’re going to be pretty busy with all your responsibilities soon...”

Brianna taps her stiletto shaped nail to her lips in faux contemplation. Her smarmy expression gives away her true intentions resembling every bit of the evil bitch she is.

“...Annnnnd it won’t look good for our lovely new president to put herself at risk by getting us drugs, right? Sooooo, I was telling Cho here how I’m going to be the one taking over for you now.”

Brianna coyly tucks a few loose strands of her long tawny locks behind her ear.

“Who knows? I might be able to get a better discount than you too.”

Passing the blunt back to Choso she winks at him. Choso merely chuckles, shaking his head at the implications before taking another hit.

And yeah that’s what fucking did it alright.

More than ready to give Brianna exactly what the fuck she’d been asking for you wordlessly lunge forward to snatch her up by those raggedy ass microlink extensions she couldn’t stop touching.

However your trajectory is thrown when you feel Choso grab you by your wrist. Pulling you in towards him, the action confused both you and Brianna—who didn’t know how close she was to actually kissing dirt.

Choso passes the joint back to Brianna, telling her to keep it as a ‘sample’ he turns his attention back towards you.

“Come on Prez, I got places to be. Get me my money now before I charge your ass the full stack.”

You both leave Brianna standing there dumbfounded as Choso drags you back into the house.

Plug!Choso guides you through the crowd of your sisters that are all now much too drunk and self-involved in their own good time to care about the pierced n’ scary dark haired man towing their president behind him.

Reaching the staircase Choso motions for you to go ahead of him and you nod dumbly as you obediently climb the stairs trying not to trip.

Urging you along, Choso is right on your tail— quite literally, as he tries to simultaneously avoid staring at your ass cheeks jiggling out from under your skirt—but more importantly tries to keep any other wandering eyes below from getting a peek as well.

Choso places a hand on your waist, both to keep you from falling and to move you along quicker. Warm tingles radiate out from where his hands touch your bare skin yet he instantly releases you once you reach the top.

You can’t help but to pout at the loss of contact.

“Which one?”

Choso still feels all business though as he walks ahead of you like he can’t wait to wrap this up and get you the fuck out of his life again.

Plug!Choso who you usher into your room before closing the door. The party seems distant as only the faint sounds of the base bumping against the walls reach the sanctuary of your room. Still holding the knob you’re leaning with your back against the doorframe as your body is still pumping insane amounts of adrenaline through you.

Nearly fighting Brianna, Choso finally touching you, on top of being drunk had your mind going into overdrive especially since it seemed like Choso would leave as soon as the deal was over.

Would he really take the money and go just like that?

Choso’s face is unreadable as he strolls deeper into your room and casually looks around. You had always come over to his place and he would have never in a million years dreamed of being able to see your room in your actual sorority house.

It was so you though.

Tidy and adorned in your favorite colors, your walls are decorated with pictures of celebrities, friends and various moodboards. Not to mention it smelled like you. The scent of your sugary perfume with notes of vanilla and saffron assaulted Choso's senses making it seem a bit warmer in the room than it actually was.

“Yo Prez, the money.”

His patience for the situation is dwindling. He has to get out and fast.

Choso doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t leave soon.

Yet you were plotting the exact opposite and you couldn’t let him leave so easily now that you finally had him alone after all this time.

Armed with a plan you nod as you scoot by him and over to your vanity to retrieve the cash. Acting clueless as to which drawer you put it in, you search them all as you bend over to check one of the drawers at the very bottom.

Choso swallows hard.

Your ass–with plenty of curves to spare–is on display for him as well as your sheer pink thong that teasingly pokes out between your crystal studded fishnets.

You had to be doing this on purpose.

Swishing side to side your skirt raises up a bit higher with every shift of your hips while your thong strains tighter across the print of your fat pussy lips threatening to snap altogether.

Akin to a seductive pendulum as you sway before Choso completely entrancing him.

Only you could ever affect him in this way.

After what feels like years do you finally locate the money, a sizable stack of cash composed of 20 dollar bills.

“Found it! In the top drawer all along, imagine that!”

Smirking you plop down in your vanity chair crossing your legs not missing how Choso’s gaze lingered, even if just the tiniest moment, on your thighs.

“Took ya long enough…”

Choso mumbles. There's no real bite to his words this time though. He’s holding his backpack close to hide his half chub while he removes 3 hefty bags of kush from his backpack to toss on the desk beside you.

Reaching for the cash his annoyance is evident on his face when you jerk away from him. Leaning back and fanning the bills across your chest, you wave them tauntingly in the air.

“Stop playin’ around. Not in the fuckin mood, I swear.”

“Playing?”

You question acting coy.

“This is just business right Choso?”

You sat up as if you were taking this seriously at all and Choso is unamused as he reaches for the money again.

And you snatch it back yet again like a fucking brat.

“I’m practically dropping a stack on this–thanks to your new “tax” and all. How do I know if it's any good?”

Clearly your plan is working as you continue to push Choso’s buttons pretending you aren’t excited from him towering over you now.

“Cut the games, Prez. Ya know my shit is always pressure.”

You act contemplative as your eyes lazily travel up his tense muscular form appreciating the view after not seeing him for so long.

“Hmmm, do I though?”

Choso scoffs, growing tired of your games.

That’s all he ever was to you, a game.

“Like I said, just business. Or are you telling me you weren’t going to count the cash to make sure it's all there before you left?”

Damn. Well you got 'em there.

Choso rubs the back of his neck before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Tch—let’s make this quick then, Prez.”

Plug!Choso who after grabbing one of the bags of weed off your vanity takes a seat on your bed. He shrugs off his jacket to retrieve a pipe from the inner pocket and impatiently extends his hand hurrying you with a quick beckoning gesture.

“Gimme your grinder.”

Rolling your eyes you haphazardly toss it over to him. However, unbeknownst to you, the top was loose and crumbles of kush spilled out of it and onto your bed when he failed to catch it.

“Nice looking out Cho, great catch.”

Even though the poor throw and loose top had been your fault, the fact he apparently couldn’t wait to fucking leave along with you still pissed with how he flirted with Brianna makes you lash out.

“You fucking serious right now? I’m always lookin’ out for your ungrateful ass.”

Obnoxiously you huff, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.

Ungrateful? For what!?

He hadn’t been ‘looking out’ for the last month, he’d been completely ignoring you!

“Heh, like I didn't just stop you from turning that gouda chick into actual cheese from the way you went at her?”

You press your lips together firmly to keep from cracking a smile at his play on Brianna’s nickname. You’re honestly still salty he had even been around her at all getting so chummy. He’d always talked about how stupid your sorority sisters were, it didn’t make sense why he let her flirt with him like that.

You’re also mad he didn’t at least let you pop her one good time.

“The bitches name is Brie. You should know, you were ‘oh so concerned’ about saving her number and giving her a discount.”

Choso looks at you like you’re an idiot as he shakes his head. He stops packing the bowl to throw you his phone.

“Whose number?”

Frowning, you already know the passcode so you unlock it right away.

Sure enough there was no Brie nor Brianna in his contact lists. Not even her number showed up when you searched his phone for it in case it was under a completely different alias.

He’d never even saved it.

The smug smirk on Choso’s face tells you he knew what she was doing all along and got you all riled up on purpose.

In fact, Choso had recognized Brianna’s ploy immediately. You had previously mentioned something about an annoying n’ bitchy rival.

Besides, there was no other plausible reason for a dumb sorority bitch like her to be talking to him at all—much less throwing herself at him so aggressively.

“Doesn’t feel good now does it, Prez?”

Your face is on fire and you turn away from Choso totally humiliated. You had played right into his hands.

“Hmph! Don’t get cocky, I wanted a reason to beat her ass anyway.”

You puff your cheeks into a pout that Choso can’t help but to chuckle at, shaking his head at you again.

You were a huge brat that's for damn sure.

“Well, it certainly looks like you found one.”

You’re quiet finally as you rake over his words in your mind.

‘I’ve always been looking out for you.’

Not only did he not save Brianna’s number there’s a high probability he just kept you from being kicked out of the entire sorority and maybe school too. Fighting was a huge no-no and you could have gotten expelled. Apparently jealous with rage you were ready to risk it all at that moment without even thinking of the consequences.

Fuck.

Choso had in fact still been looking out for you—even when you didn’t deserve it.

Plug!Choso who accepts your silence is a sign of your defeat and after a few minutes you move from your desk to sit next to him on your bed as he finishes grinding and packing the bowl.

“Brats get greens this time.”

I’m paying a premium for all this shit, I better get greens.

But you hold in that thought, not wanting to give him any more lip in the moment as you’re the one left licking your wounds this time.

Like a gentleman Choso holds the bowl for you and lights it as you take a hit. He tries not to notice how well your glossed lips are wrapping around the phallic mouthpiece as searingly thick smoke flows into your lungs.

Damn, this shit was dank as hell.

You’re doing your best to hold it in but your lungs are burning as you watch Choso take a hit himself. Not being able to keep in your coughs for a second more you’re left signaling at Choso to ‘wait a sec’ when he holds the pipe out back to you.

Fuck, it was even stronger than what you remembered.

“See Prez? True pressure.”

You shrug at him trying to save face although your eyes are watering, already tinting a bright shade of red.

“Uhh duh, I always cough Choso. I’ll still need a few more hits to know for certain.”

Choso rolls his eyes.

You take another hit—a smaller one this time—before slowly falling back onto your bed.

Your eyes close as your high settles in and you debate on what to say next without fucking things up even more with your slick ass mouth.

However your concentration is diminishing quickly as your buzz makes your senses overly aware of Choso’s intense body heat radiating off him, your thighs practically touching.

The weed swirling together with the alcohol in your system makes you all the more sensitive. Your mind floats away as your gaze is hyper focused on how the lean muscles of Choso’s toned back and broad shoulders ripple under the thin black tee he wears.

God, Choso is so sexy.

Your legs squeeze together to calm the burning in your core just from the thought. You want nothing more than to drag him down to bed with you and melt into his embrace—but there's an invisible force field around him that you can’t reach.

You’re almost certain he would recoil from you if you tried now.

There’s a conversation you needed to have first but you didn’t know how to start it without fucking things up even more.

The result is an awkward silence that uncomfortably settles in the room as Choso finishes the bowl off himself.

Never one to smoke too much of his own product he’s only indulging now to temper his mood.

Choso doesn’t know why he’s still here, all good sense in him telling him to take the money and get the hell out. Yet he knows he’s hoping for something–anything–to show him you’ve changed even though all signs so far tonight have been showing him you haven’t.

You’re still cowering away from any accountability and he is determined not to give you an easy out this time.

And it’s for that exact reason Choso can’t look over at you right now.

Otherwise he’s sure to see your tiny pink top that had started to roll up exposing the glitter adorned skin of your underboob. Or how your slow exhales cause your soft stomach to dip temptingly showing off the pink crystal belly button ring he gave you.

The sight of your fishnets brushing against one another out of the corner of his eye alone is enough to know he wouldn’t be able resist grasping onto your supple thighs. God how he would relish the way his fingers would indent into them. He wanted to rip those slutty fishnets right off of you so his head could push your skirt up even further on your hips while he drowned himself in your wet cunt—not even stopping when you would cry from overstimulation.

Plug!Choso, who is thankful his distraction at long last comes in the form of the faded gray blue fabric by your pillow.

“Yo!..is that my shit?”

Eyes opening wide, you pale upon seeing Choso reach for the crumpled up shirt. Choso unravels the tee to confirm it is in fact his shirt—one of his favorite band tees at that.

“Oh, is that yours?”

Choso deadpans.

“So you listen to RHCP now?”

“Maybe…”

You grab it from him and toss it to the side less you break down and confess to him you had slept in it most nights. Not only have you slept in it but you do in fact listen to RHCP now, especially when you workout.

However with this Choso has hit his limit.

To him you hadn’t changed.

Could you not even own up to the tiniest of things?

He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into your toxic web, not anymore. The longer he stayed the more likely that was.

“S’all good, Prez. Keep it.”

Choso grabs his jacket.

“Listen, I gotta g–”

“—w-wait!”

You grab the other end of his jacket. You still find it difficult to find the right words but you had to say something.

It was now or never.

“W-Wait… ah, at least before you go…l-let me know how Yuji’s game went?”

You meekly ease into the question but see Choso go ridgid at the mention regardless.

For now he relents and stays seated. Although a few minutes pass before he speaks.

“He won, of course. MVP of the season.”

You smile genuinely at that but Choso isn’t looking at you— too pained by the memories that began to bubble up again like bile in his throat.

“Awe, that's so great! I knew he would! I’m so happy for him.”

Choso grits his teeth as he turns back to you, his anger evident in his entire being as every muscle in him flexes.

“Are you? So that’s how you treat someone you’re happy for? Really?!”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond.

“Yuji’s a strong kid— much stronger than me. Honestly, I didn’t even think he minded you weren’t there as he was all focus and excitement to play that day—”

You let out a quiet exhale in relief though any consolation you felt was instantly shattered as Choso continued.

“But when I put him to bed that night. H-He..He’d asked why you weren’t there…He asked if you were gone now like our parents. Yuji wouldn’t believe you’d miss it otherwise.”

Choso struggles to say the last bit and maintain eye contact with you.

Every moment you gaze into his eyes though was pure torture as you’re racked with even more guilt.

“Choso I–”

“I’m so fuckin’ tired of all your fuckin’ excuses!”

You’re silent. It’s so strange to see him this upset you don’t know what to say.

“I’d ask you if you’d even considered the abandonment issues that kid already carries but you don’t. You don’t fill that fuckin’ superficial lil’ head of yours with anything beyond yourself!”

Finishing what he had to say, Choso gathers up his jacket and backpack, stuffing it full with the stack of cash on the vanity—not even bothering to count it.

Momentarily dumbfounded, you're scrambling from the bed to block his path.

“C-Come on, Choso! I didn’t want to abandon him or you! I tried to call you and I texted you so much these past few weeks to talk!”

Choso isn’t impressed.

“And not one text actually had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in it. Not that it would have cut it this time.”

You're reduced to silence for the umpteenth time tonight.

You wreck your brain knowing most of your texts had been focused on baiting him to respond to you but fuck—did you really not even apologize?

“But I am sorry!”

Choso’s gaze is cold and distant, so foreign in comparison to the warmth you’d taken for granted before.

“Whatever you say, Prez.”

There it is again. You’ve grown to resent the title, the job, everything about it.

“Just stop calling me that, okay?!”

You’re trying hard to fight back the tears that threateningly pool in the corners of your eyes.

“What...Prez? Why, it aint all that they cracked it up to be?”

“N-No… it’s n-not… I actually hate it and I hate being here.”

Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you direct your words towards the ground. You didn't want Choso to see your glassy eyes even if he’d noticed the cracks in your voice.

Plug!Choso who regards you with skepticism but curiosity nonetheless. So at long last you decided to be honest with both him and yourself aloud for the first time.

But it didn’t mean shit if you wouldn’t do something about it.

“Then quit.”

Choso says to you like it’s the most obvious answer in the world as your head snaps up incredulously.

“H-huh? W-What?!”

“You heard me princess— quit.”

Could you really just quit?

Truthfully, you had never considered it an option. The expectations put on you by your sorority sisters, your parents and the plans you had made for yourself had all led you to the commitments and responsibilities you had now.

How could you just let them all down by walking away from it all?

“Choso— I heard you..b-but I can’t, you don’t understand I–”

“—No, I understand better than you do, princess. You spent so much time with me and Yuji because you hate this sorority bullshit, you can’t stand any of these bitches and now you just agreed to be president of your own goddamn misery!”

Reading you for filth, Choso stares at you expectantly but you avoid his gaze.

Your nails suddenly becoming all the more interesting as you fumble with them.

“–Ight then.”

Choso doesn’t want to argue with you any longer.

You’re still full of excuses to his disappointment. If you wanted to be something you weren't that badly, then that was your own prerogative he decided as he brushed past you.

“N-No! P-Please, don’t leave Cho!”

There's clear desperation in your voice. You cling to him, burying your head into the middle of his back as your shaky hands weave their way around his midsection.

Choso is mid-twist on the doorknob.

He had all intentions of leaving if you still weren't being honest with yourself about things.

Still does.

Yet his determination is wavering from your hot tears begin to seep through his shirt and trickle down his spine. The warmth of your body—now flattened against his—causes your pert nipples to poke into his back while your delicate fingers wretchedly grasp onto his taunt abs like a lifeline.

Like you actually needed him in your life.

Fucking hell, you didn’t play fair at all.

But he couldn’t forgive you just to hurt him again and especially not Yuji.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I said let go!”

“NO!”

Choso easily pries you off of him, spinning you around as your back slams against the door pinning you in place. His hands encircle your arms and extend out fully so he could put some distance between the two of you.

He couldn’t think straight when you were all over him.

Your world is a blur and in your crossfaded state you are left with vertigo at the sudden shift of positions. Both you and Choso are left panting at the intensity of it all.

“You don’t listen to anyone do you?! You just do whatever the fuck you want…”

Choso’s face is red with anger and your eyes—already reddened from your high—take on a deeper shade as you are now openly bawling in front of him.

“Tch, why are you the one crying? This is how you want things, right?!”

You shake your head, unable to communicate beyond your pitiful sobs.

Choso grows more and more frustrated as the guilt he is feeling battles with his more rational mind prompting him to still be angry with you despite your tears. Back and forth his mind races until it all bubbles over and—

“—You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for you!?”

Your teary eyes widen at the sudden admission.

Choso even startles himself with his own confession he’d been holding in all this time.

“But not Yuji...He’s already so much better than me! He’s gonna actually be something one day. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Your lip quivers and your pleas are almost unintelligible.

“I-I know…m’s-sorry…m-m’so sorry C-Choso!”

Choso exhales deeply and shoulders slump forward as he releases you, running a hand over his face and back through his raven locks.

You couldn't read his expression but you didn't want him to attempt to leave you again as you close the gap between you, arms encircling him once more.

Choso doesn’t push you away, yet to his credit he doesn't return your embrace either as he’s still torn.

“I-I missed y-you so m-much.”

Cursing the hold you have over him Choso can’t deny he still wants to be with you—but you both were at an impasse.

Nothing good would come from repeating the same cycle again.

There is no resolution if you still want to keep up a front.

“P-Please forgive me Cho—I-I love you.”

The sweet proclamation is accentuated by your pillowy lips spreading kisses over his chest while the tips of your fingers slip up his shirt to place feather light scratches at the small of his back.

Love, eh?

An unexpected revelation dawns on Choso and he is now resolved in what he has to do.

“Yeah princess, you really love me?”

Oblivious to the danger edging in his voice, you nod as you continue to coo affectionate words and affirmations into his chest. One of your legs hitches around his as you mold yourself deeper into him thinking he’d finally forgiven you.

Had he forgiven you though?

Well, not exactly.

A devious smirk appears across Choso’s features.

Choso had come to the conclusion that at the end of the day you were simply a terrible people pleaser.

Your stuck up bratty nature was merely a front of false confidence.

You tried so hard to become whatever anyone else wanted you to be, you'd lie to yourself and become utterly miserable in your efforts to appease those around you.

However, Choso knew the version of you he’d gotten when you’d been with him and Yuji had been the real you.

And he actually did believe you loved him— even if you had just forced yourself to say it in the moment so you could manipulate him into staying.

Sympathetic to your pitiful nature, Choso wouldn’t just abandon you.

But if you couldn’t do what was best for you, he would make sure you would himself.

PART 3

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ I'm about halfway through P3, its 5.5k already lol. stick with me though cause pt 3 is the nasty brat taming smut we all are waiting for! if i tagged you here i will tag you again for p3 but im still adding new people to tag list so lmk in comments or reblogs if you'd like to be added. trying to focus to finish this but my adhd might distract me into writing a quick gojo fic but if i do i will finish this right after!

⋙tags: (ps ty for all the sweet comments for those who joined my overall writing tag list yall legit had me in tears ilysm!) @nkogneatho @toji-girl-main @RoyaltyAndRoses @aydene @slowlyshycomputer @bontensbabygirl @yoonjinhusbands @anxious-chick @kashxyou @halosdiary @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @buttercupblu @tonycries @lowkeyremi @strawberrygirl0 @crybaby-herbalist @rintcrous @bomboclakkk @anubisisthebomb @alwaysfreakingout @oeanonyme @chrys23 @spltbtch @uranometrias @officialsimpp @crispycatt @purple-obsidian my-jukebox @peachyharts111 @thedorklingqueen @sugurusprettygirl @scarasw1f3 @kgorethz @c1truswh4re @madaqueue

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taegimood · 11 months ago

Text

— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?”

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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suiana · 11 months ago

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Aaaaaa so desperate for more of yandere student council president 😭

Aughhhh

(yandere! student council president x gn! popular reader) (new au for pressie <3)

"c'monn... you don't have to repeat it."

you groan exasperatedly, rolling your eyes as you push past the annoying student council president. yep, him again. and this time he had come to force you and your group of friends back to class. well, more like your friends. he had forced you to follow him to the student council office. for punishment of course. after all, you're the leader, so you had to be punished!

and no, it's not that type of punishment.

"less talking and more walking. you've already missed five minutes of-"

he speaks up only to get interrupted.

"we heard you dang it!"

"so annoying..."

"yeah this is why you don't get any game."

your friends mock him as they walk back to class, annoyed that they had been told off by him. and you would be too. seriously, he's such a pain in the ass sometimes.

but you and him were... secretly dating.

mhm, that's right.. you were dating the hot yet annoying student council president. yeah, you, the most popular student in the school. but that's not even the worst part! people thought you hated his guts! hell, even you thought you did too!

but that's not what happened. at least until a few months back where he suddenly asked you out and you somehow fell for him instantly.

it's so embarrassing that things turned out the way it did, but oh well. it is what it is, which is why you had to act that you still hated him. you didn't want to be the school clown!

and somehow, he agreed and decided to play along with your little act. he's understanding after all! but seeing you act like a brat makes him want to tease you a little...

"mn... is our little leader trying to go against the president's orders?"

he hums, bending down beside your ear as he smiles into the sentence. you yelp, not expecting him to get so close as your cheeks heat up. shit, what was he doing?! was he trying to blow your cover?! in front of your friends?!

you shoot him a glare, trying to quicken your pace to escape his teasing but aw always, he's always a step ahead. he quickly grabs your wrist, preventing you from running away and it catches the attention of your friends. they eye him suspiciously before their eyes drift over to you. wait, why were your cheeks so red?

you blabber about nervously, trying to put up a tough front. unfortunately, your friends were smart, not dumb and quickly called you out on your lie.

"oi why are you all red?"

"do you... like this annoying idiot?!"

they gasp, absolutely flabbergasted as you shake your head, trying to prove them wrong. you then shoot a glare at the president who merely sticks his tongue out at you and releases his hold. ah, this was fun. maybe he'll do more next time.

"go along now, i'm sure that it's just because i'm that charismatic."

he laughs off before pushing your friends into their respective classrooms and beckoning you to follow him into the student council office.

shit, you swear he's actually going to ruin your reputation of hating him one day with how far he takes his teasing...

but it's not like you'd mind, would you? after all, you two are dating. it's only right that he publicly notifies everyone of his claim on you. ah well, that's a problem for another day.

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere student council president #yandere student council president x reader

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castielsprostate · 2 months ago

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POOLVERINE BEACH VACATION!!!!!!!!! wade in his iconic hawaiian shirts which he packs one for each day, logan in flip flops and a slutty slutty cropped tank top (that wade tooootally didn't tailor), al in her brat beach girl fit (they made her carry all the floaties ((they put cocaine in the floaties so it's okay))), laura in her super cute bulky new sunglasses logan had bought for her, colossus yukio and ellie tag along too (colossus is wearing a male bikini), peter, dopinder, and vanessa bring the cocktails

anyway, wade drowns 4 times, logan gets really annoyed with the beach volleyball players because they keep making nasty remarks towards wade and aiming for dopinder and colossus with the ball so he shreds all the volleyballs and the net. and their shoes. and also their bags. and maybe one of the worst guys. ellie and yukio have a lovely beach date, colossus flashes way too many people, al sniffs sand that wade said was cocaine, peter shows everyone his knew piercing jewellery and gets at least 7 people's number, laura maxxes out 3 of wade's credit cards spending it at beachside shops, and vanessa got a very nice tan.

wade and logan break at least 5 storage cabins and two geneva conventions fucking and fighting

#sjonnie.text #dp&w #deadpool and Wolverine #poolverine #deadpool #Wolverine #deadclaws #loganade #laura kinney #logan howlett #wade wilson #blind al #vanessa carlysle #dopinder #colossus #ellie and yukio #peterpool #hugh Jackman #ryan reynolds

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cobaltperun · 5 days ago

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Darkest Part (3) - Remedy

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 5.2k

-Dance with the enemy-

He was dead. Her grandfather, the only person that was even a slightly bit normal in her entire family, was gone, yet she showed almost no emotions other than something that could be described as ‘bummer’. Sure, she felt sorrow and pain, it would be disturbing if she didn’t, but it was all beneath the rage, beneath the lack of understanding and support. And all of that was beneath the feeling of betrayal she felt whenever she was reminded of her mother's ridiculous bullshit powers.

Once upon a time you called her a typical teen angry at the world, you ended it at that, but Astrid knew you left out a big part. A spoiled brat given everything on a silver platter, that's what she got from your words, that's how she interpreted them, and it pissed her off. You had the guts to act like you knew anything about her.

That wasn't who she was.

If she could say so herself, she wasn't spoiled, and she was well aware off all the luxuries and privileges she had. There was just so much anger within her, so much anger at the family that didn't understand her that didn't try to connect with her. The same family that refused to believe that no matter how she was raised, no matter how much money she had, no matter how easy her life was or how difficult it could have been, that she would have turned out the same way she was now. That she would have the love for nature, and the desire to protect the planet. That she would see beyond just herself and her generation. That everything her father taught and passed down to her was the core of who she was. That those ideals would drive her no matter how she grew up and the only person that understood that about her was long gone and the mother that apparently could see and talk to ghosts could not see him.

So, yes, Astrid really was angry, but not at the world as you said it. Just at her family.

Deep down perhaps once or twice she may have thought that she appeared to be too cold and distant on the outside. The divorce of her parents followed by the loss of her father, and the distance between her and her mother and all the therapy she was forced to go to made her closed off and defensive, and she simply couldn’t deny it. Why should she show what she felt when there was no one trying to understand her? What was the point of showing weakness when it could easily be exploited, like what happened with her mother when Rory met her. “Let's just get this over with,” she said, annoyed and angry that her mother manipulated the principle into making her leave the school when there was something important to her going on.

“Astrid!” her mother called after her she was already on her way to the car.

She could see Rory and someone else in the car; and while that annoyed her because she didn’t want to spend the time with her mother’s boyfriend, she guessed there were worse things that could happen to her. For example, being in the car with you. That would make this day even worse. “Save your breath,” she didn't have the patience to listen to her mother right now, instead she just opened the doors to get in the back seat with Delia and there you were.

Her absolute worst nightmare just turned into reality.

Someone kill her.

She should have just turned around right then and there. She should have said to hell with going to the funeral or she should have found another way to get there. Maybe by an airplane, or by bus, or anything really, as long as she didn't have to spend hours upon hours with you right next to her because of course Delia wasn't going to sit between you.

“Why is this pinnacle of human ignorance here?!” Astrid demanded angrily, looking both at her mother and grandmother with unmatched fury. How could they do this to her? They both knew how much she hated you!

“Good to see you too, Chihuahua,” and there it was, your infuriating voice addressing her with that ridiculous nickname that had no basis in reality that you refused to replace or put any effort in. You were so unimaginative you just picked the first dog that came to mind and decided she was just like that dog. And no, the irony that it was an angry tiny dog that she herself considered to be made up purely out of spite was not lost on her.

“Fucking Barnacle,” Astrid spat as her mother just shrugged and pointed at Delia. At least her mother looked like she felt a miniscule amount of guilt over this.

“You do know I need my assistant, don't you? Doing all of this without Charles is already a nightmare, I can't do it without my assistant as well! Oh, Charles why did you have to leave me?! Charles! Oh, Charles!” Delia was screaming once again, calling out her grandfather's name at the top of her lungs and for once Astrid figured even you were better than being even more embarrassed by her family, so, she got in the car, just to escape the judging and mocking looks of the other students.

From the corner of her eye she could see you opened your mouth before her mother and Delia could get back into the car. ‘Oh, no, what now?’ Astrid could tell you were trying to tell her something and worst of all she could see that you were struggling to get it out of your mouth. Considering that, chances were it wasn't an insult hurling her way because you definitely didn't have issues saying those to her. Luckily, from the looks of it, you've changed your mind and chose to remain silent.

Rory turned around with that infuriating grin on his face. “Astrid, it's so good to see you again!” Rory exclaimed with that fake smile of his trying to get her to accept him or whatever. He’s been trying to make her believe he was actually in love with her mother and not just using her some time, but she was she wasn't about to fall for those tricks. Instead, Astrid just glared at him, finding a bit of satisfaction in the way he just turned back around.

~X~

You really thought spending an entire drive from Astrid’s school to Winter River was the worst thing that could ever happen to you. You were wrong.

You were a hundred percent absolutely wrong.

Risking your life was a lot worse.

This was going to be the end of you, there was no way around it. Delia was going to be responsible for your untimely demise. Why? Because it was up to you to put the shroud over the house because why the fuck not?!

You stared at the large house at the top of the hill overlooking the entire Winter River. And you had to get on the roof of it. Great.

Just great.

You turned to Delia, sending her a pleading look and hoping against hope that she would see reason. “Are you sure there is no one else who can do this?” your fear of heights aside, this was ridiculously reckless. You had no experience climbing houses, walking on roofs or placing these shrouds, it would be nothing short of a miracle if you didn't fall to your death

“Can't believe I'm saying this, but for once I agree with her,” who could have guessed Astrid Deetz actually agreed with you. She probably just didn't want to see another human die. “I mean if she falls it will be really difficult to cover up.”

You should have known that was her reasoning, you really should have known Astrid’s worry had nothing to do with you but the inconveniences that would put them in. “Geez, thanks a lot Chihuahua,” you said mockingly and turned to Lydia, you were still naively hoping at least she would see reason in this, but the woman had just lost her father and was not exactly thinking of how reckless of an employer her step mother was.

“Oh, Y/N will be fine! She's my assistant she can handle it, just have Rory hold the ladder,” most of the other time you would be beaming from the praise, but today things were different. Delia just brushed your concerns off, and you were just becoming aware of how little care the family had collectively. Well, if it really was true that Lydia could see ghosts and talk to them maybe she just got desensitized to the entire life and death situation and Delia being who she was just took it easy. In her head she could solve it all. She knew the people, she had the money, the entire building the family had gifted the school Astrid was enrolled in was enough of proof of that.

“Great, off I go now. Hopefully not to die,” you sighed and picked up as much shroud as you believed you could reasonably carry to the roof and resigned yourself to whatever was going to happen. “I am not being paid enough for this bullshit,” no money was worth this, but here you were, unable to back out.

“Well, she does have a point,” Lydia finally spoke up and it wasn't regarding your life but your pay. Were you suddenly feeling really bitter? No, no, you could never. When the one most concerned for you was Astrid you really had to question the life choices that led you to this situation.

You glanced back at Delia, who was now in deep thought. “Yes, I suppose she can get all raise considering all the extra work she’s doing.”

Well at least he would be paid more for risking your fucking life!

“I can't watch this I'm going inside,” you did not care one bit that Astrid couldn't watch you doing this. You still figured that was for the best. You didn't want to give to her satisfaction of seeing you fall from however tall the roof was.

“If I die I'm haunting this entire family,” you promised under your breath and looked at the Rory who was holding the ladder for you. “I'd like to come back down just so you know, and in one piece,” why did you need to clarify that? Well, you were talking to Rory, so it didn’t hurt to be more specific.

“Trust me I don't want any part in this either, but it's for Charles, we must do it!” of course he would say that. It wasn't him risking his neck because, apparently, he was the only one strong enough to hold the ladder in place so he couldn't go up the ladder. It just had to be you. Granted, if you really had to choose, you would rather avoid holding the ladder up while someone else was climbing it.

‘I really should have gotten that life insurance,’ you thought bitterly as you began climbing the ladder.

~X~

Social media was, in fact, not enough of a distraction for Astrid at the moment. Not even texting other students about the conference was helping her keep her mind off what was happening outside. Especially when a shroud dropped from the roof near the window of the room she was in and she had to move to another room.

No. She wasn’t worried.

She was just curious about what was going on outside. It was too silent, and no one was screaming so nothing happened, she was sure of that. Absolutely nothing happened.

Astrid finally, after an hour of being glued to her phone, looked through the window and saw a black shroud covering it on the outside. She looked at it, wondering if you were done. No matter how much she hated you this was still Delia being reckless as fuck. There was no other way to put it. Why couldn't they just hire a company that worked on doing these kinds of things? Just because you were her assistant didn't mean you had to fall from the roof.

Not that Astrid would ever admit she was worried about you. She wasn't. Really. She just couldn't watch, so she went inside to wait it out. How was Delia even going to explain to your family if something happened to you? Like: ‘I'm sorry. I didn't hire the professionals, so I sent your daughter to the roof and now, well… Accept my condolences?’

Astrid bit her lip, doing her best not to be conscious of how worried she really was. She should have stopped you, said to hell with this hatred between you and acted like proper human being.

And then there was a scream. A bone chilling, loud, echoing scream and Astrid ran out not really sure what she was going to see once she was outside. “What happened?!” she demanded as she rushed outside and looked at her mother expecting an explanation. Her heart sank as she saw Delia crying and you weren't there. “What? No, don’t-“ her legs felt like they would crumble under her weight. This wasn’t happening. She didn't hear any anything, she didn't hear a loud noise, she didn't hear a thud, but there was a chance it still happened and she just didn't hear it. “She- she didn’t-“ she was at the loss of her words, speechless and affected a lot more than she thought she would be.

“She didn’t what, Chihuahua?” her eyes widened when she heard that nickname, and that stupid voice.

Astrid spun around, anger coursing through her veins as she glared at you. “Nothing!” she yelled and rushed back inside completely aware of the extremely puzzled look on your face.

“I'm not that easy to get rid of! I am a Barnacle!” you yelled after her once you realized that you were the ‘she’ she was asking about.

You looked perfectly fine.

You really were a Barnacle.

How dare you make her worry?

Stupid.

Asshole.

“Fuck you,” she cursed under her breath.

~X~

The funeral went about as on brand as it could for the Deetz family. A choir singing, a fin shaped tombstone, an imaginative text engraved upon it and plenty of colorful personalities, most of them dressed in black attending the funeral. Whenever you had the chance to closely look at the family you always had the feeling of absurdity surrounding you, they never truly conformed to the general norms but nothing showed that as much as this funeral.

You stood by the side observing, just taking the scene in as people began mingling around talking to one another. You didn’t know these people and they didn’t know you, neither of you felt the need to strike up a conversation in circumstances such as these. As the priest approached Delia and Rory the feeling of grief was mixed in with something else, something you couldn't quite tap into. You couldn't quite call it absurd or nonchalant but there was something about the way everyone acted that gave you this strange feeling. The last time you went to the funeral people cried, but the Deetz family took the loss proudly, not shedding a tear and leaving that for a more private moment. As for the others, well, you understood why most of the people here didn't cry. These people knew Charles but weren't quite close to him.

You glanced to the side where Astrid was sitting alone, somber-looking, serious, almost engulfed by that large coat she was wearing as if shielding herself from everything she was feeling. For a moment you could see that mask she used to wear cracking, just a hint of pain etching itself upon her face before she, as if she could feel your eyes on her, put the mask back on. You chose not to intrude, instead mixing into the crowd not quite intending to strike up a conversation but also not intending to avoid it.

The only thing you actually wanted to do was just to give Astrid some space. You knew deep down that even if she did look a bit worried when she thought you fell off the roof and met your untimely demise that the hatred between the two of you was still that strong. And that meant that you were not the person she would ever open up to or be vulnerable in front of.

And that suited you perfectly well because you did not need another Deetz woman driving you insane right now and that doubled for Astrid because damn was she still annoying. Damn Chihuahua.

The sound of someone approaching you from behind made you turn around just as Delia was coming up to you. She opened her purse and began looking for something. “I just forgot, we have to pack everything. Y/N, can you be a dear and go buy some boxes?” she handed you 100 bucks before you could even answer, but you figured anything was better than staying here surrounded by people you didn't know and not really knowing what to do with yourself.

“Of course, I'll come back as soon as possible,” you told her, taking the money and resisting the urge to run to the city.

~X~

You weren't lying to yourself, or overthinking things. You really didn't belong here, you didn't know anyone, no one from your family came from here, you just happened to work for Delia and thus were obligated to come and help her with the funeral. Still, you couldn't deny the place had a certain charm to it, there was something peaceful and calm about it something you couldn't quite explain with words alone.

It felt like Winter River was somewhat stuck in the past, like it wasn't keeping up with the rest of the world while still being welcoming to strangers. The man at the shop was welcoming, kind and helpful as you explained what you needed the boxes for and directed you toward the part of the store where you would find everything you need. From that point you could handle everything yourself.

It was kind of funny how used you were to this particular part of helping Delia. You have gotten quite an experience with packing things between working for Delia and your work at the library, packing wasn't something you were unfamiliar with. You came back to the house coming from the back and doing your best to avoid the crowds that gather in front of it because for whatever unexplainable reason you simply didn't do well with the crowds. Especially if you had to just walk through them and you figured it wasn't the best look to just walk through them with bags of tapes and other supplies as well as a bunch of boxes neatly packed underneath your arm. What you definitely didn't expect was to see Astrid storming off from the front of the building, getting on a bicycle and furiously riding off.

“Chihuahua!” you called out to her, not because you were worried or you cared to know where she was going, but because she didn't look like she should be driving off by herself. In fact, you swore you could see a single tear falling from her eye which was probably a mistake because Astrid did not cry. Yeah, it was definitely just you seeing things. You've been seeing things you couldn't quite explain lately, so maybe this was one of them too.

She didn’t turn back, or even slow down, she just left without even reacting. Not even yelling at you, and that was unsettling.

You put the boxes at the side of the house and placed the bag on top of them, and then went to search for Delia only to turn the corner and see a… celebration? “What the hell just happened here?” you muttered to yourself. Why were people suddenly celebrating like someone just got engaged or announced they were pregnant or something as ridiculously out of touch with reality and current situation as that. This was supposed to be a funeral and now it didn’t feel one bit like one.

You approach Delia and you were sure she could see you were puzzled. How couldn't you be? When you left graveyard things were somber, people talked but it was quiet and reserved, you could feel the grief in the air and now it was like you stepped into a parallel dimension where everyone wore black to celebration. It was like you were suddenly in the Addams family universe, well, Astrid did kinda give off the Wednesday vibe.

That was a strange thought.

“Did I miss something?” you asked almost fearful of the answer because if you didn't step into a parallel universe then you could probably guess that this was Rory’s doing. Somehow. How he would manage to do that was beyond you but if anyone could do it, then it was him.

“Turns out we'll be organizing a wedding in two days,” wait, what? “Lydia just accepted Rory’s proposal,” Delia explained as if she couldn't believe it herself and your jaw dropped prompting her to just nod and shrug.

What the fuck? Lydia was�� She was burying her own father!

You turned to look at Lydia still puzzled by her decision. Rory you could understand he was an inconsiderate asshole of a man that manipulated everyone and everything in his favor just so he could gain something, prone to exploiting vulnerable people- oh, that's what happens. “And let me guess, Chihuahua was here right when it happened,” maybe you weren't seeing things, maybe she really was crying.

Delia pointed toward the porch as subtly as she could. “Right there,” yeah, that explained everything.

For once you felt sorry for the girl.

You probably should just go back home because this was not a healthy realization to have. You actually felt sorry for Astrid, you must be going crazy. “I'll, uh, started packing things, you know just the small stuff that whoever wants to buy the house won’t notice or care about,” anything really, just so you didn’t have to come to terms with feeling empathy for Astrid Deetz.

“Thanks, I'll be meeting you later to take some photos so get the equipment ready, please,” Delia said ‘please’ the world really was ending, or she really was that affected by Lydia’s decision.

~X~

A few hours later, when all the crowd was gone, you finished setting up the equipment for taking photos for Delia. You one again caught yourself thinking you were in the most absurd situation you could possibly be in as Delia began explaining to you exactly what she wanted you to do.

“So, what I want is that primal scream filled with grief! The scream of pain captured at the exact moment where it reaches the pinnacle, I want it to be guttural, to be raw emotion, the pure anguish and uncontrollable. To create the image of a deep wound inflicted upon the very heart of the one screaming and the one observing the work of art. I want to capture that visceral feeling of remorse, to show it as beautiful and ugly at the same time!” she explained passionately and you could feel your heart racing.

How were you supposed to be behind the camera, responsible for capturing that? You would be lying if you said you didn't understand the thoughts behind the idea or that it didn't sound inspiring, but how were you supposed to capture that? You just got into this business as Delia's assistant months ago and now this was thrown upon you? This responsibility? Capturing something so specific?

At this point you actually would have taken climbing on the roof again instead of doing this because it just felt so daunting and above your skill level.

“Sure, I'll help you with that,” and instead of saying how you felt went and agreed like a dumbass.

Well Alex did have a habit of saying you were a hell of a people pleaser, as long as those people weren't Astrid that is.

“Great, let's start!” Delia was surprisingly excited about doing this, but you supposed the artist within her overpowered the grieving widow. She sat down in front of the camera and give you a moment to get into position. You stood behind the camera, checked the lighting once more, did the test photo to make sure everything was fine and it was because you learned how to do it damn well.

“OK. I'm ready whenever you are,” you gave her a thumbs up and she took several deep breaths, getting in touch with several feelings within her, letting that gried come out and show itself and she screamed. She screamed so loud and with so much pain and though you struggled, you captured the moment. Deep down you probably just realized that this was her way of releasing the grief that was consuming her. So, you pushed away all the doubts in your skills and all the other ways you were reconsidering your position as her assistant and just silently took part in the process of Delia handling her grief and emotions that came along with it.

That is until the rest of the Deetz family and Rory, well you guessed he now was a part of the family as well, came running due to hearing Delia screaming. You choose to keep busy by going through the photos and picking out those that looked the most like what Delia described to you earlier and let Delia explain the situation to her family. that is until Astrid Charles to address you.

“I thought Barnacle finally snapped and tried to murder someone,” she commented and you saw the smirk appearing on her face when you took the bait like the fool you were.

“Don’t worry, if I start murdering people, I’m starting with you, Deetz,” you grumbled, not in any way serious, but you were fairly annoyed by that comment.

“There are three of us here, you might want to be more specific?” Lydia asked completely out of blue and you resisted the urge to look at her and raise and eyebrow at the clear failed attempt to play ignorant of the way things were between you and Astrid.

“The chihuahua,” you still clarified.

“That fits two of them,” Delia did not just challenge you there.

Fine, you could play this game. “The pain in my ass,” you added, surely that would do it.

“Two again, try harder,” Lydia knew well enough Delia meant ‘chihuahua’ fit her as well as Astrid, so she was just getting back at Delia. And stating that Delia was, indeed, also a pain in your ass.

That was on you for not noticing your mistake. “The one who thinks Rory is annoying,”

“Still at two,” Lydia once more countered and you were running out of things that described Astrid.

“Mommy issues?” you tried, now getting a bit desperate as you watched the amusement on Delia and Lydia’s faces and the pure look of annoyance on Astrid’s. At least that was a good thing. Any day you made Astrid annoyed was a win in your book.

Delia glanced at Lydia and Astrid and nodded. “Hmm, definitely two.”

“The one that hates me,” you would do everything in your power to never say Astrid’s name.

“Hm, for your sake I’ll say that’s at one,” Delia took pity on you.

Wait a second… “What’s that supposed to mean?!” you demanded, certain that only Astrid hated you. Did Lydia hate you? Or Delia? But you worked for Delia and you barely talked with Lydia. Well, you did hate her daughter so… That made sense?

“Nothing!” Astrid screamed so loudly you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Fucking Chihuahua,” you cursed under your breath and went to pack things from any other room, as long as Astrid wasn’t there. Or Rory, you really didn’t want to be in the same room as him either.

~X~

If there was one thing that kind of made Lydia nervous it was the realization that her daughter had grown up and that she should probably be getting ready for the inevitable moment where Astrid comes out to her. And not preparing in the: ‘What do I do?! My child is gay!’ way but rather in the: ‘What do I do?! My child is now an adult and is falling in love and getting into a relationship and she is going to start dating and might get her heart broken and might find the right person right away or might never find the right person!’ way. And that’s not even considering all the other things that could go right or wrong and she was already panicking and overthinking it and she really needed something to calm her down.

If Rory just didn’t throw her pills away.

“Something needs to happen to just to end this charade those two have going on,” and Delia was not helping with her comments because even as few times as Lydia saw you and Astrid interacting she could tell it wasn't really that black and white between you two and Astrid's reaction to you being in danger, which was still reckless on Delia's part, only strengthened that belief. What was she going to do?! You were a good kid; she couldn't deny that. You were hardworking, you weren't spoiled and from what she heard from Delia you actually shared some of Astrid’s core beliefs, but she was still a mother, and she was still worried about her precious daughter getting her heart broken.

“They are too stubborn at this point,” at least she could take some solace in that. It would probably happen at some point and you and Astrid would probably settle your differences and start seeing each other for what you really were and not just the initial impression you made it one another. But from the looks of it, it was still somewhat far off and so Lydia hoped she had at least some time to prepare. More than anything, she hoped that you would first be friends instead of jumping right into a relationship after apparently hating one another. She sighed and went to pick up a box Rory brought along. There was still so much to do, especially with the wedding coming and all the cleaning and packing would help her get her mind off of her daughter's love life.

Delia actually laughed. “You're right, unless something life threatening happens to either of them I don't think they are going to make any real progress anytime soon,” she was joking of course but just the idea of something like that happening to Astrid really didn't sit well with Lydia.

“Please don't joke like that,” Lydia pleaded, sighing again and looked up the stairs her daughter went. “I should probably go and check up on Astrid,” she decided, especially knowing what was in the attic and especially since she was seeing him again.

Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser

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Masterlist / First part / Previous Part

#astrid deetz x female reader #astrid deetz x reader #astrid deetz #beetlejuice beetlejuice #jenna ortega x reader #x female reader #x reader

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pepperonijem · 9 days ago

Text

II. the song's about to start (can you feel it?) || to.you

"... I'm about to fall for you."

summary: Creative constipation. That's what Levi calls the feeling he gets when he realizes he wants to write about how he feels about you. What does he feel about you? That's... inconclusive, he thinks. pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader content: alcohol consumption, levi is a bumbling mess of feelings, cursing songs mentioned: partners in crime - finneas, (only) about love -grentperez, buzz - niki || the title of this chapter comes from the song buzz

A/N: I've never written anything that made me blush and twirl my hair the way this chapter did. why am I the one catching feelings rn. should I post the playlist?

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter

Hange Zoe is the worst person to have in the car when all you want to do is think.

The thought popped into Levi’s mind as he swatted at a wandering hand reaching for the volume dial on his dashboard. A groan sounded from beside him and Levi rolled his eyes in return. Hange was a regular in the front seat of his car, and to his dismay, felt much too comfortable touching everything they could on the dashboard. Their chair was leaned back absurdly far and the vents on the air conditioning seemed pointed in every which direction.

“Levi, I like this song,” they huffed as they reached forward to mess with the volume again. With a sigh Levi gave in and looked forward to the drive home in silence.

He tapped his fingers against the wheel as Hange sang along. Croaked, more like. Hange had a melodic singing voice, but that wouldn’t be obvious to anyone hearing them right now. But Levi was used to this, and although he pretended to be annoyed by it, he really didn’t mind. He liked this song too and he hummed along, quiet enough that Hange wouldn’t notice.

“You couldn’t look any more like a lover Or a partner in crime Or something of mine”

The song ended and Hange reached over to turn the volume down. Levi was thankful, but realized if the radio volume went down, Hange’s would have an inverse effect. They looked over at Levi whose eyes were trained on the dark and empty 3 a.m. freeway ahead of him.

“You know,” Hange began with a smirk in their voice and Levi tensed, steeling himself for whatever nonsense would escape his friend’s lips. “Miche said he saw you dragging Eren’s friend upstairs earlier.” Levi’s hands grew tighter on the wheel and Hange didn’t miss the flush of red that appeared on his cheeks as Levi remembered the brief feeling of your skin on his. Hange’s laugh is grating, Levi thought.

He chose not to say anything. A mistake, really, as now Hange had found an opportunity to fill in the blanks on their own.

“Mr. Ackerman, I never took you for the frat-party quickie type,” Hange continued, laughing to themselves. “Especially not with people you write songs about.”

“Shut up,” Levi huffed. “It wasn’t a quickie, I was–”

“Oh so you took your time,” Hange cut him off with a playful slap to his shoulder. Somehow he felt his face heat up some more. Thankfully, they weren’t too far from Hange’s home.

“We were looking for those two other brats that hang around Eren,” Levi tried to speak up over the sound of his friend’s guffaws.

“I’m just teasing, you grump,” Hange finally relented. They waited a beat before continuing. “But that new song of yours was definitely about them right?”

Levi thought for a second before answering, even though he knew Hange already knew what he’d say. He simply nodded in response.

“Knew it,” They spoke again. The teasing lilt in their voice was replaced by something softer. “It’s been a while since you’ve written anything new. It felt new.”

“What do you mean?” Levi asked curiously. He’d always had a particular style when it came to writing songs, and Hange had known him long enough to see it become what it was. He didn’t particularly intend to write anything different, he just… wrote as he always did.

Hange leaned against the window, thinking to themself. “I’m not really sure myself,” they finally answered after a beat. “It just felt more like you, I guess.”

The last time Levi wrote a new song was when Erwin was still part of their band.

Last spring, right as the trees were beginning to turn into various shades of light pinks and pastels, Erwin asked them all to stay after practice to talk. It was an unusual rehearsal from the start, and Erwin seemed nervous much unlike his usual calm and collected self. His blonde hair was ever so slightly disheveled and he wore sweatpants instead of his nicer trousers that he usually wore to save time before heading to his office internship after practice.

Erwin clumsily missed notes that he had never missed before, and Levi was more shocked than anyone else to see the founder of their band fumble around like he’d never held a bass before. So when it came time for them to talk, Levi was intrigued and surprised again when he finally spoke.

“I’m getting married,” Erwin blurted out without his usual level of tact.

“You’re–”

“What–”

“Married–”

Hange, Miche, and Levi all spoke at once and Erwin let out a sigh of relief that melted into a soft laugh, as if a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

“Married?” Levi asked again.

Erwin nodded with a sheepish smile before explaining. “You’ve all met my girlfr— fiance before. We’re both graduating next semester. She got accepted to a music conservatory overseas and my internship offered me a position at their branch in the same city, it just feels like the stars were aligning. It all feels like a sign.” In the many years he’d made music with Erwin, learned his cues and learned his melodies, he saw that Erwin spoke with a twinkle in his eye that Levi had only ever seen when he spoke about his fiance.

“I’m sorry to announce I’m leaving the band like this,” Erwin continued. “But I’ll help you find a replacement before I leave. In fact, I already have someone in mind.”

That’s how they found Eren, a friend of Erwin’s fiance who played in the university orchestra with her. They watched his end of year recital and sat through his flawless performance of a cello concerto by Saint-Saëns. It all happened rather quickly after that and without even auditioning, the passionate but impulsive brat had become their new bassist.

After going out for a round of drinks at the local pub to celebrate Erwin’s news, Levi found himself outside on the patio, resting his elbows against the railing and thinking about all of this until a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Levi,” Erwin called as he moved to stand beside him. “What’s on your mind?”

He turned around to glance over at his friend. Erwin looked happier now, like he was constantly basking in the glow of something bright, and Levi supposed that in a way, he was. “What does it feel like?” Levi asked vaguely, but Erwin knew, as he usually did.

“It’s… hard to explain,” Erwin replied. Levi looked at him and waited for him to continue. “At first, it felt like… well you know, right before a show when we first turn on the amps? There’s a buzz, but it feels electric. It’s a little bit like that, anticipation because you know something good is about to happen.” Levi nodded thoughtfully at Erwin’s response as he continued. “Now it feels so big… like exploring space, if space was safe and warm.”

After a slight chuckle, a wave of silence washed over the two of them until Erwin spoke again. “Are you going to be okay?” Erwin glanced over at his friend.

“I will be,” Levi answered. “Will you?”

Erwin turned around to face the window and smiled to himself as he watched his fiance laugh at something Hange was saying. “I think so,” he said quietly. “But I’m happy to be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Levi agreed. “Me too.”

When Levi came home to his apartment that night, he reached for his guitar. He strummed quietly as he felt the familiar wash of inspiration take over him. A soft melody seemed to untangle itself into something that made sense in his head and soon, lyrics came along with it.

“Take my hand and come with me to another place We can walk around the universe tonight.”

He hoped he understood what Erwin had told him. Love as a concept was simple enough to put into an analogy, but difficult to really get, but for his friend, he’d try. He sent Erwin off later that spring with the lyrics and sheet music folded neatly in an envelope, a gift from Levi to the happy couple and felt satisfied leaving it at that between the two of them. And so it was, until Erwin asked him to play it at his wedding six months later. It was his first time singing a song without the rest of the band, but it didn’t feel as scary as he imagined it to be. It was like having a conversation, or writing a letter to his best friend. To Erwin.

He hadn’t written a song since then, not until he met you. Hange was right and the realization had heat seeping into his cheeks.

“Something something Halloween party,” Hange recalled the lyrics to his song. “That line about living in a VHS was pretty cute, what did you say to them to make you think of that one?”

“Nothing,” Levi replied and that was an answer enough on its own.

“Oh Levi,” Hange cooed as they pulled their glasses to sit on top of their hair to find a more comfortable way to drift off for the last few minutes of the ride, content to let Levi have a reprieve from the teasing.

After dropping off a drunk Hange and driving the hour back to his apartment, he couldn’t decide whether to grab his notebook and pen or his guitar. This was a rather frustrating dilemma to have. Usually, he’d feel something akin to lightning and either a simple line or a melody would come to him and he’d grab whatever vessel he needed to bring it alive.

The song he wrote about you two weeks ago began as lyrics first. He had watched you walk down the sidewalk in your pumpkin costume and groaned to himself as he realized half of your entire conversation was him saying, “cool.” He walked back into the party and through a sea of stupid costumes to find his guitar case and fished out the worn brown leather notebook that he always kept with him and grabbed a pen.

“I want to erase the things I said, but I’ll probably say them again. Wish I could hit rewind and not be so in my head.”

With a few tweaks and a chorus, it had become a song, and Levi was proud of himself. It wasn’t until after he had finally set his pen down and saw he’d written the words “I wouldn’t have let you go leave me,” that he wondered if he really felt that way or if it was just a good line.

At the next party, when you told him you liked the song, the song he wrote about you, he felt something else, and he wondered what to call the flutter he felt in his chest. Attraction, maybe? He learned about the feeling of attraction in class, how the spike in your heart rate and cortisol levels can be read as attraction in the right circumstances… or stress in the wrong ones. With his adrenaline running high after his performance, he decided that the evidence presented was too inconclusive to be labeled one way or another.

Now, he decided to grab his notebook to look back at the page he’d scribbled on, to see if something could give that final push for lightning to strike. He scoured the margins, looking through the various doodles and squiggles and crossed out words. It was incredibly frustrating, Levi thought, to have the desperate urge to write, but not know what to write. It’s probably because he still couldn’t figure out how he felt about you. Anxiety? Attraction? It was something new, but not something he knew how to explain. All he knew was that he wanted to write about you.

Nothing came to him even after flipping through his book, so with a sigh, he gave up and flopped onto his bed. His eyes fluttered shut and hoped inspiration would find him in his dreams.

The next morning, Levi woke up feeling unrested and uninspired. He was expecting to wake up with that familiar whisper of a new melody or a new lyric in his ear, but instead he woke up to the sound of thunder outside. He ran a frustrated hand down his face. Creative constipation, he thought to himself.

Then as he settled into his seat for his psych class, he found himself so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you call his name until you reached out and tentatively put your hand on his shoulder. The contact snapped his attention towards you and he felt a haze begin to clear.

“Levi?” you said his name with concern.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking,” he explained. “Did you need something?”

“I was going to ask if I could sit next to you,” you began before leaning in towards him and lowering your voice conspiratorially. He could smell your shampoo and the perfume you sprayed on this morning. He felt that flutter again. “Some rando took my seat beside Jean. I think they heard we were picking our partners for the project today.” You subtly gestured over to the girl in your usual seat who was staring intently at Jean who was staring intently at a Fortnite stream on his laptop.

Levi let out an amused chuckle before sliding his backpack off from the seat next to him and pulling it out for you to take. He watched you curiously as you sat down, trying to figure you out. Trying to figure out why he wanted to figure you out so desperately. He resisted the urge to look away when you smiled at him. All he could muster up to do was nod back and hope you didn’t notice him staring.

“So what is it that had you thinking so deeply,” you asked as you pulled your laptop out of your bag. Levi paused for a beat, wondering how to reply. He wasn’t particularly fond of letting people into his writing process. It felt too intimate. Even Hange and Miche had only ever looked into his notebook once and then decided it wasn’t worth being on the receiving end of Levi’s death glare (not to be confused with his usual resting neutral glare). For some reason, he felt as though you wouldn’t be too much of a threat to his creative process.

“I have to write about a feeling,” he began tentatively. “But I can’t really figure out what it is.”

“Oh is this for, like, an essay?” You asked. You tapped on your chin as you thought about what to say.

“Yeah, something like that.” “What’s the feeling?” you continued to ask. Levi found himself intrigued at your willingness to help him, but remembered how quickly you relent to offering your notes to Jean and Eren when they miss something. He figured it’s probably second nature for you.

“Honestly, I’m not too sure myself,” Levi answered, nervous that you’d see through his flimsy details. But this was the closest thing he could tell you without divulging his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure how much of a help you’d actually be. Songwriting, Levi recognized, was not something that everyone could do, but it was something he did well. He had a knack for being able to step into someone else’s shoes and write about their feelings. Like some sort of twisted empath, he could write a damn good love song without ever having been in love. He figured whatever higher being created him thought it would be funny to have such a stoic man only be able to express himself through a melody, like he was in some goddamn musical.

The other members of his band had a bit of experience writing as well, but their styles were different from Levi’s. They had a special knack for writing songs that sounded like them. Hange’s songs were always more upbeat and catchy, good for parties, and a little quirky. Miche’s songs were much more focused on the rhythm and had fewer lyrics. Eren, although only having written a couple of songs so far, definitely had a more angsty, grungy vibe. It was only from Erwin’s leadership that they all learned to blend their styles into something cohesive.

Most people outside of the band assumed that the majority of songs were written by Hange or Miche or even Eren now that he was part of it. But surprisingly, Levi was the real lyrical mastermind behind No Name, although he never opts to correct anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Just write it down,” you replied as if it was the most simple answer. “Even if the feeling doesn’t have a name, you’ll get the point across.” When you looked over to see Levi eyeing you skeptically, you continued.

“Not all feelings have a name,” you went on. “Like the feeling when you’re about to turn a door handle into a surprise party you knew about, or like when you get the first cup of hot coffee for the season because it’s finally cold enough outside for it. It’s like you know it’s the start of something new, something good.”

Levi could see warmth flashing in your eyes as he watched you list these feelings. It reminded him of Erwin’s words that night. Something about anticipation…

There it was. Lightning. His head shot up as you spoke and you turned to him with wide eyes. You watched as he reached for his notebook and began scribbling into his notebook. Before you could ask him more about it, the sound of the professor’s voice filled the room. Levi, however, did not lift his head.

“It’s the feeling of the first coffee run in autumn – can you feel it?”

The last part was a question for himself.

Sure enough, today was the day project partners were being assigned and although Levi spent the majority of the class writing madly into his journal, his ears perked up at the announcement.

“Since you’re all adults and there’s over 60 of you in this class, it’s easier for everyone to just partner up with their current desk partner.” Levi turned and met your eyes and you both let out a sigh of relief. He was glad it was you.

He managed to set his pen down as the professor continued to explain the assignment. “This project is about relationships,” he announced as he walked down the aisle to hand papers out to the class. “For the rest of the semester, you’re going to be getting to know your partner and hopefully yourself, quite well. Hopefully, if nothing else, you can leave the class with a new friend.”

The both of you turned your heads at the sound of Eren groaning as he looked over at Jean. Jean looked wistfully at the girl who stole your seat – unfortunately, she was in a separate desk cluster. Levi was thankful that things worked out the way they did.

Levi watched you stifle a chuckle and pass him the worksheet. He scanned over the paper. It was mostly blank, save for a few sentences of instructions and two sections of items to note.

Under the first section were three items: First impressions of your partner? Who do you think you are? How do you think others see you?

The second section simply stated: At the end of this project, reflect on your earlier impressions and see how they’ve changed. What’s changed about how you see your partner? How they see you? How you see yourself? What social theories or effects do you believe may have affected this change?

“You get out of this project what you put into it,” the professor stated. “The more time you spend with your partner, the more change you’ll see in any or all of the criteria. However, if you decide not to spend any time with them after the initial meeting, you still have some theories to write about.” He chuckled to himself as he scanned the students’ faces.

He continued on. “There’s no criteria for how much or how you spend time with your partner outside of being safe and respectful. But I suggest you do things together that mean something to you. Be intentional with the time you spend together.”

Levi’s previous feelings of relief had suddenly dissipated as quickly as they came. This was a rather intimate project, and although the questions seemed simple enough, being in this class for the semester taught him nothing was ever psychologically simple. He snuck a quick glance over at you, busy writing your name on the top of your paper and writing down quick reminders to yourself in the margins of your notebook where you had neatly organized your notes from class. Your cheeks were pink, and so were the tips of your ears. He was sure his were too.

He looked down at his own notebook, filled with nothing that could help him on an exam. But he had half a song written down.

It wasn’t until the professor had dismissed the class and Levi was setting his things back in his bag that you finally turned up to look at him with your phone out towards him. “Before you head out, can I get your number?” you asked.

“Sure thing,” Levi reached out for your phone, accidentally brushing his fingers against yours in the process. There was that flutter again, but Levi was ready to chalk this one up to stress. Until he caught a glimpse of your tinted cheeks and suddenly he was at a loss once again. He focused back on the phone long enough to put his number in before handing it back to you, letting his fingers brush yours once again. For research purposes, he had said to himself. Results still inconclusive.

That afternoon, Levi sat at his desk with the worksheet in front of him. The first question seemed easy enough to answer. He didn’t need to think too hard before writing a response.

First impressions of your partner:

He thought back to his first time seeing you in class. Did that even count? All he ever saw was the back of your head and the way you would raise your hands to rub at your temples at the end of class as you slid your notebook for Jean to take pictures of. He picked up his pen anyway. Begrudgingly kind, he wrote.

The first time he really saw you was that night at Eren’s party. You were quick to laugh at his jokes, and quicker to add on. And later, he watched as you danced with Jean, who Levi watched get shot down by a blonde girl who was clearly more interested in the girl with her, even in your stupid pumpkin costume that stood out like a sore thumb. There was something about you that drew people in, he realized. Charming, good friend, obnoxious.

He thought about when you finally left that evening to go study. Hard-working, warm.

The next questions were a lot more difficult to answer.

Who do you think you are?

“Annoyed, mostly,” he muttered aloud as he forced himself to try to think. Although he had a knack for writing about other people, he wasn’t a huge fan of introspection. A musician, he wrote simply. I’m good at what I do, and I do what I’m good at. Simple. Blunt. Clean. It wasn’t much, but it was enough, he thought.

How do you think others see you?

This was such a dumb question, Levi thought to himself. He never really cared about how other people saw him. Hange always said it was one of his charms, especially on stage, and he agreed. His Twitter DMs seemed to agree as well. But a question was a question, and he wasn’t going to hurt his stellar grade over a dumb question. Charismatic, quiet, intense, cold.

He finally set his pen down and picked up his phone to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hey Levi, are you free this evening?

Before Levi could feel confused at who the hell would be so bold as to message him like this, you quickly sent a follow up text with your name and Levi scoffed. He was amused. He saved your number before replying to you.

Levi: Sure Levi: Did you want to do something?

He didn’t wait long for a response as you quickly texted him an address and a time. The campus cafe, which thankfully was near his apartment, at 7 p.m. so he still had a few hours before he had to meet you. He pulled out his lyrics notebook and looked back at what he’d written during class. It felt like it was coming together and Levi felt content as he grabbed his acoustic and began to strum absentmindedly, trying to figure out what his words sounded like in a melody. It was something simple, but he was happy with it. Hange was right, this song felt like him.

For the first time in a long time, he was writing about himself.

When Levi walked into the cafe promptly at 7 p.m., he let out a soft sigh. The smell of pastries, cinnamon, and coffee wrapped around him like a comforting embrace and he took a moment to appreciate the smells of autumn. He scanned around the cafe and found you sitting at a booth by the window, staring out at the street. Now that October had passed, the jack-o-lanterns and skeletons had been replaced with the warm glow of fairy lights and other various holiday decor. As he walked towards you, he found himself catching his breath at the warm glow the lights left on your skin. Pretty, he thought to himself. When you finally turned your head and caught his eye, you smiled at him with a wave. As pretty as he thought you were looking away from him, it had nothing on the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Hey Levi,” you greeted as he finally made it to your table. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and slipped out from his coat, setting them both neatly beside him on the leather seat of the booth. “I went ahead and ordered a little bit before you got here. Figured you’d look forward to something warm to fight the cold.” You gestured at the cream colored mugs that sat on the table and Levi cautiously inspected the one in front of him. The steam still rose from its contents and the smell of Earl Grey tea made his shoulders relax. He wasn’t a coffee person.

“Thanks,” Levi replied softly. “How’d you uh, how’d you know I prefer tea?”

You blushed as you looked away. “I was a little nervous,” you began, your attention once again on the sights outside. “I texted Eren on the way here and asked what kind of drink you preferred.”

Levi felt himself blush and was thankful that you weren’t looking directly at him. He scoffed before taking a sip of his tea. Seems like Eren pays attention. “Nervous, huh?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as teasing as it did.

You finally turned your attention back to him. “Yeah,” you chewed your lip. “This is kind of an intimate project. Did you see the questions? It felt like some sort of first date survey.”

He nearly choked on his next sip. You were right, and now that you had pointed it out, Levi couldn’t help but fixate on the idea. A first date, he repeated to himself. He hoped the mug hid his blush.

“We don’t have to think of it that way,” you quickly added. Levi let out a soft chuckle at your panic. “I mean, not that it would be terrible, but this is for class so I think we can keep it professional and then be friends, which I guess would not really be prof-”

“You’re rambling,” Levi cut you off. He felt relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous about all of this, but he also took note of how you said it wouldn’t be terrible for this to be a date. He let out a sigh and set his mug down. “There’s no pressure at all. We can spend as much or as little time together as you’re comfortable with, and how we spend that time doesn’t have to be anything in particular. We could study, talk, or just sit here in silence too, if you wanted.” He hoped of course, that he’d see you more often, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He knew people saw him as somewhat unapproachable. Even people who scream his name at performances seem to tense up and freeze when they see him on campus. He didn’t want you to be one of them.

To his credit, his words did seem to have an effect on you and he watched your shoulders begin to relax as you reached for your own mug to take a sip. “Thanks,” you began. “Sometimes I get too in my own head. But you’re right. No pressure.”

Glad that you were finally more relaxed, he let a beat of silence sit comfortably between the two of you. When he first met you at that party, you seemed a lot more sure of yourself, not that you seemed unconfident now, but more that you handled interactions with new people in a charming, easy way that he couldn’t. It made him relax knowing he wasn’t the only one who tends to overthink things. He made a mental note to write that down for his assignment later.

It was much easier to just talk after that. Levi felt he had finally redeemed himself after that night where all he could say was “cool.” He was a man of few words… but not that few.

You told Levi about how you’d met Eren, Armin, and Mikasa. How Armin had come up to you at recess in elementary school after you had just moved to town and asked about the book you were reading. He was the first to speak to you, and Mikasa was the first to drag you along to their adventures. Eren, who was your next door neighbor, had declared himself your older brother when he found out you didn’t have one. “Everyone should have a big brother,” he had decided at 9 years old.

Levi told you about the band, why it was called No Name in the first place. He had started the band in high school with his best friends and kept it going since they somehow ended up at the same university. Hange wanted to call themselves The Titans “because it’s funny. Because you’re short.” And when Levi pounced across the table, Miche suggested The Walls which Levi hated even more. It wasn’t until Erwin dragged him back to his seat on the couch of Erwin’s apartment that Erwin decided, “If we can’t decide on a name, then we go with No Name.” And that was that.

Levi had found himself smiling at the memory, and chuckled at how long ago that was. Now, somehow, he had become the leader of the band, filling in Erwin’s role as a singer and at times, a mediator.

It was easy to be nostalgic with you, but maybe it was the tea, or the fairy lights that set him up. It wasn’t until both your mugs were halfway empty after a refill that Levi remembered to ask. “So why a cafe?” he asked curiously.

Your eyes lit up as you began to speak. “Oh, right,” you began. “Remember how we were talking earlier about feelings that don’t have a name and I mentioned the first coffee run in autumn?” Levi nodded. “Well, I finally had some time today, and I thought I’d invite you to join me so you could feel it firsthand.”

Now that it was November, it was well past Levi’s first run to the cafe. In fact, he’d been here at least twice a week since September.

“I know that it’s really late into the season,” you spoke again as if you knew what he was thinking. “And I’ve had plenty of coffee since September. But I’d just been so busy that I hadn’t had a chance to actually sit down inside a cafe and enjoy a cup of coffee.” You smiled as you looked down into your mug.

This is nice, Levi thought to himself. “So what are you feeling?” Levi probed as he recalled your words from earlier. Something new, something good. This was definitely that.

“Like life is about to fall into place.”

Later that evening, Levi found himself itching for his phone to text you.

It had only been an hour since the two of you parted ways after he walked you to your car, but he already found himself thinking about when he would see you again. You were easy to talk to but you didn’t mind when he only had a few words to say either. It felt easy. He hadn’t been on many first dates but he knew that none of them had him feeling this way afterwards.

Levi: Hey Levi: Are you free tomorrow? We can meet again if you want.

Tomorrow? My place?? Levi had sent the message before he could think too hard about it. He shoved his phone under his pillow and walked out to the kitchen of his apartment. He grabbed a glass of water and leaned against the island, running a hand down his face. He took a sip and began to pace back and forth.

Like a phone toss when it’s risky but you hit send.

He ran to his desk, momentarily forgetting about the phone, and wrote down the line. And another one. And another one. Until finally, he had a song. He took a deep breath before reaching under his pillow for his phone.

Coffee Addict (psych): I’m not busy :) where do you want to meet?

He thought for a second before an idea popped into his head.

Levi: You know the music studies building? Meet me on the basement floor.

And so the next day he found himself sitting on the floor across from you in a cramped practice room with his hands clasped on his lap. He’s not really sure what had come over him last night after asking you to meet him, but he can’t say he regretted inviting you either. In fact, he woke up bright and early, feeling that flutter again as he thought of seeing you.

“This is cozy,” you joked as you looked around. The room really was cramped, and with a standing piano against one wall of the room, it made it feel even smaller. He wasn’t used to sharing this space with other people, but he didn’t really mind sharing it with you.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry it’s cramped, I know,” he acknowledged. “I just… I wanted to show you something.”

“Oh?” you asked. “What is it?”

Levi looked up at the piano before standing up and offering his hand out to you. A buzz in his fingertips. A flutter in his stomach. He sat down on the piano bench and patted the space beside him to his right. The bench was wide enough to fit both of you, but Levi didn’t miss the feeling of your leg pressed against his. Before he could overthink himself into a panic, he stretched his fingers over the keys and began to play.

“It’s the anticipation when the amps turn on Just cables and crackle. It’s the first flicker of the neon sign It’s the words stuck in your Adam’s apple.”

He glanced over at you before continuing on to the next verse. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, but you watched as his fingers moved across the keys.

“It’s a bumblebee on a blossom The first coffee shop run in autumn.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you recognized your own words.

“The song’s about to start, can you hear it? The door’s about to open, can you feel it? The flower’s about to fruit, can you see it? I’m about to fall for you.”

A buzz. A flutter. He knew what this was.

“About to fall for you.”

a/n: some more fun facts! This chapter was so fun to write. 1) Eren, who'd never admit it out loud, actually knows all his friends' go-to drinks. He often brings his bandmates drinks as apology for being late to practice 2) Armin is the biggest social butterfly of the group. He's just really kind and disarming. 3) I gave myself butterflies writing the scene where Levi is playing on the piano with you beside him.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #captain levi #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #snk levi #levi x reader #levi x you #attack on titan #aot #aot headcanons #aot x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin

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sugarlywhispers · 10 months ago

Text

the fall | b.katsuki - prohero!reader goes undercover

☆– warnings; heart breaking ANGST, a bit of comfort, not a happy ending or well, it is, just not the one you expect, vulnerable!Bakugou Katsuki.

☆– a.n; i don’t know how many times i have deleted, rewritten, deleted again and rewritten again this piece lmao i consider it a win the fact that i just finished it xD also, i don't know if this will have a continuation… thou there’s a high chance that it does because i loved the way it ended lol enjoy <3

If Bakugou Katsuki could be properly honest he would openly admit that being a Pro Hero sucked , approximately eight times out of ten. Mostly it wasn't for the times injuries went worse than expected or felt worse as time progressed and the getting old finally settled in the bones. If he could be entirely open about it, the worst part was when a hero had to take undercover work.

Bakugou hates it. He hates it so much, he could quit. And that was a realization that unsettled him, because this was what he had dreamt about since he was a shitty brat kid: kick shitty villains asses from left to right.

But he got to actually accept and admit this particular annoying, and again, shitty fact, his resentment about that specific part of the job, when it was your turn. When you had to go undercover, and so deep into it, that it had been two years… two fucking years, since he got any news about you.

How fucking dared you. He was–is your best friend, right? Then why not send him even a simple 'I'm okay, still alive' message. Not even a quick phone call where he could at least hear your breathing; he would know it's you, because he knew everything about you. Well–not everything as he would like to. But he was your friend, you had confided in him plenty of times, you had been his partner since you were a little brat from UA doing your internship and he was the newbie Hero in charge of you. You have been through good and shit together. Was it too difficult to just let him know you were fine, fucking alive? Were your new surroundings too dangerous for you to not give any signs of life to any of your friends? If it was dangerous, why the fuck haven't him, or Red Riot or even shitty Deku, been sent to help you?!

Bakugou took another deep breath, face laying over the stinky bar table, hand holding a glass of something he couldn't fucking remember Ejirou said it was. Probably a shot of tequila with lemonade, given the strong flavor in his mouth. Fuck, he wished it was something way more stronger, like firewisky or some shit like that.

"Mina was right. You do look like trash," shitty hair smiled, knowingly and even mockingly at him, which infuriated Katsuki more.

"Shut up, ass." He wasn't drunk, but he wished he was. Katsuki couldn't get drunk because he had patrols to run that same night, he was not an irresponsible asshole, no matter what and no matter who.

But he did wish he could drink himself to sleep. He hadn't been sleeping quite well lately– or more like over two fucking years. Katsuki sighs. He knows he is exaggerating. He knows you. You don't need him to worry about you, you can definitely take care of yourself and he has witnessed how capable you are of it plenty of times already. Damn, you once even kicked his ass for being a jerk– he won't admit it, but that was the day he actually started seeing you more than just a friend. Coincidentally, it was three days before you had to go undercover. What a bitch of luck.

"Todoroki said they were going to scout some of us to go look after her," that brought Bakugou's attention back, sitting up straight and looking directly at his best friend's serious expression on his face.

"I'm in."

Kirishima sighs, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Fuck you. I'm going..." Katsuki begins his protest but Ejirou doesn't let him continue.

"Katsuki!" Both friends look at each other's eyes for a moment without saying anything. Until Kirishima confirms out loud, "You love her."

The blond stays silent, not admitting or denying it, looking at his best friend's eyes that turned completely professional and determining.

"I will go." He presses firmly and with no room open for discussion, which makes Kirishima sigh.

The red head looks down at the glass he is holding with his drink, a cocktail that had a bit of ron and orange juice, as he plays for a moment with his fingers around it. He takes a sip of it, and after he puts the glass back on the table, he looks back at Katsuki's eyes and says, "I'm not here to invite you to go. I'm just being your fucking best friend in letting you know about this."

Bakugou growls looking elsewhere but his best friend, annoyed that he lost the discussion. He knows by Kirishima's stance and words he is not fucking going, and it innervates him.

He really doesn't want to think about it now. He doesn't want to think about you . He doesn't want to worry yet all he does is worry . For you. For your wellbeing. For the situations you probably have gone through, alone. Not with him around to take every blast he could for you. Not with him to kick some sense in that stubborn head of yours, and vice-versa.

Fuck. He worries so fucking much it is already affecting his head, his performance in battles, his everything. Katsuki had even taken more work than he should trying to keep his mind busy to not think about you.

Kirishima knows. He had known all the bullshit Katsuki was building up inside him for a while now. He always knew when something was off with his best friend. So he invited him to have some light drinks so they could talk a bit, even though that is the least thing Bakugou would ever do. Especially about his feelings. However, Kirishima knows. He has always known.

And he was not letting his friend alone to drown in his feelings.

Bakugou looks at his friend when he feels his hand grab his shoulder. The intensity in Ejirou's eyes makes Katsuki's throat tighten.

"I will bring her back."

"I'm-..."

The explosion makes the ground tremble, and it was enough to sober Bakugou and Kirishima up.

They don't hesitate to run out of the bar and towards the place where it came, where also everyone seemed to run away from. It took them less than three minutes to arrive and both of them sigh in relief when they see they aren't the only heroes at the scene, as even Deku was already there in his costume, holding at least four villains under him. Uravity was close, she had at least ten floating in the air with her Quirk, and was setting one by one on the ground again as another hero would catch and restrain them, before guiding them towards the police cars. The scene is pretty much under control, so that makes Katsuki relax a bit.

Ejirou moves to action, offering help wherever he could. Him and Katsuki walk towards Deku, helping him with the four under him that are struggling forcefully.

Deku smiles thankfully to his friends.

"There's the bitch," says the one Ejirou is holding from the back of his shirt.

"She's fucking dead," threatens the one Katsuki is holding, which makes him angrily manhandle the scum.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Fuck you, hero!"

Katsuki doesn't have time nor the patience for this, so he doesn't care when he pushes the villain inside the car way more forcefully than he should.

Deku comes running to them as the cars take their way, and he says hopefully, "Have you seen Y/N?"

Katsuki's entire being ignites at the mention of your name. The thought of just seeing you again makes something move inside his gut that is annoyingly satisfying.

"She's back?" Katsuki hates how hopeful his own voice sounded.

"Y-yes?" Izuku frowns, "Wait, you didn't know?" He looks at both friends perplexed.

"Know what?" Ejirou asks this time.

Izuku sighs. "This villain group was a big one that settled in America, where Y/N went undercover. They were planning to attack this base intending to rob the machine that scientists were creating that apparently could send someone to the past. This group wanted to go back in time to erase the source of Quirks, so they could control everything."

An unpleasant chill went down Katsuki's back.

"Y/N has been undercover all this time, working and proving herself so she could get in… She even got in the higher ranks so they would trust her and she could fakely guide them here, where there's nothing but a handful of heroes hiding in this abandoned building ready to catch them."

Deku sounds proud, which Katsuki could comprehend. Not that he would admit that out loud. But wait, that means…

"How do you know this?"

"She hasn't been in contact directly with me, Kacchan, but my agency has been in this case since the beginning and there were loops where she could send information. She couldn't be close to anything or anyone from here or she could have been in a huge danger. But one of my sidekicks has also been undercover with her. He was the loop. From what he told us, she climbed very high; with a Quirk like hers, I'm not surprised she was the only strongest in there. I wonder if-..." Deku went on and on with his mumbling in fascination with Quirks.

Katsuki rolls his eyes. He really doesn't have time to listen to him. He wants to find you, so he simply walks away in search of you.

Two years. It had been two years.

He ends up running towards the entrance of the building, looking around, eyes searching desperately for a sight of you. Heroes and villains around made it a bit difficult, coming and going, running and catching.

Until he finally sees you at a distance.

You are standing there, on the side of the scene, watching as every villain gets taken by some hero and put into custody of the police. The wind around is making your hair float to the side. You have dyed its color, which makes Katsuki think that no matter the color, you still look beautiful. You are beautiful, end of sentence.

But the expression on your face isn't the one of a Hero enjoying victory.

The villains were shouting stuff, and it isn't until he actually pays attention to what they are saying that makes him groan in anger. Why? Because they were shouting swears and threats at you.

And you simply stand there, not responding and receiving everything they throw at you. That makes Katsuki frown. You have never been that cold, that quiet against villains. Where was your fire? Your hatred towards those scumbags-good-for-nothing?

But then your head faced forward, in the direction towards where he was standing. Bakugou's entire being is shaking in anticipation, hoping, thriving for this reunion. Then he sees your eyes. Eyes that were colder than ice. Eyes that showed only a glance of how broken your soul was. And it hurts Katsuki's own heart to see you like that.

Your eyes didn't seem to recognize him at first. Like you were seeing a very distant and almost forgotten thought, a memory that had been pushed to the deepest part of your mind and now just watching him made your brain hurt while trying to figure out the memory.

You then realize it's him , your eyebrows shooting up in surprise and you smile slightly. A smile that doesn't reach your eyes. It is the kind of smile that means "cool to see you, but not very happy about it".

Your eyes go back to the scene, smile wiped from your face and the stoic, cold expression back on your whole being.

"It's The Fall," Deku suddenly appeared next to Katsuki, making the blond jump a little, which he faked it like he was just changing the weight of his body from one foot to the other.

"The fucking what?" Katsuki asks, a bit pissed that he got caught off guard.

"The Fall. When heroes go undercover, they have to pretend to be somebody else," Katsuki rolls his eyes exasperated.

"I fucking know what undercover means, Deku."

"You're not listening, Kacchan!" Deku turns to him, looking quite serious. "The Fall happens when the hero has to return, has to stop pretending to be someone else. And then, they find themselves with the question of whether whomever they were pretending to be was their real self or not."

Katsuki gulps. "I didn't-..."

"Of course you didn't, Kacchan. You have always been you. Fight or die. Hell, I even didn't, because I have always only wanted to be a Hero. But not everyone-..."

"Oh fuck," the blond swears, finally realizing.

You are in a limbo. In trying to remember who you were, who you are and not; what you should do and not. The Fall was winning over you, as you suddenly moved to help a woman that apparently was on your villain team.

Katsuki doesn't waste time. He runs towards you, picking you up by the waist and walking away from the scene, towards the small alley next to the building, as Deku recaptures the other woman.

"Y/N!" He tries to reason with you as you start to kick him, arms and legs swinging in the air to try and catch him, hit him with all your might. "It's me! It's Bakugou! Katsuki!" You are screaming, not stopping to struggle, as he drags you away from everyone that could see.

"LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING HERO –..."

You stop every movement and scream as you realize what you just said. He finally gets to circle his arms around your chest, yours trapped under his big ones. Katsuki is breathing heavily. Fuck, he had forgotten how strong you could get.

"Hero," he repeats in your ear as you settle and relax a bit in his arms. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms holding you strongly. "I'm a Hero, Dynamight, Ground Zero," he said, "Great Explosion Murder God," he tries to joke, his throat tight and almost closed with emotions he was trying to hold back –this is not the moment for them–, saying whatever he could to help your memory remember him, "It's me, Y/N, Katsuki … Your 'Tsuki."

Sillence. Only your rapid intakes of breaths are heard between you two. Still, he doesn't dare to let you go. He feels like if he does, you will slip from in between his fingers like liquid, droplets of water impossible to tame or hold back. If he let you go, you are going to fucking disappear, like smoke impossible to catch, and fly very far away from him to never return.

Bakugou Katsuki is not willing to lose you again.

Your body starts to tremble as you sob, as you cry with all your might in Katsuki's arms. And his heart breaks for you.

"Shh , it's okay. I've got you, love. I'm here…" He soothes you, hands and arms holding you tight against his chest as you cry loudly. His hands start to caress the skin of your arms as he kept whispering into your ear.

Your cries are so intense and painful to hear for him, breaking every piece of his heart for you. He can feel your legs giving up, so he kneels with you on the dirty ground, not letting you go from his arms for even a second.

You suddenly turn in his arms, facing him. Yours surround Katsuki's neck and you hug him strongly, " Katsuki," you cry in his neck, and he wishes he was able to physically take the pain you're feeling right now and throw it very far away. Or even if he had the choice to trade it with you, he would. He would carry your pain, your sorrows, your everything, for you.

"I'm here. I'm here," he repeats as you cry, softly caressing your back with his hands.

Katsuki doesn't know how much time you waited there –now sitting on the ground, his back against a wall while you sat all curled up against his chest and in between his legs– but he notices everything is done and over when Deku peeks from a corner, holding his thumb up in sign that probably everyone had gone from the place. The blond nods, and Deku takes that as a sign that he could get close. His movements slow, careful to not startle you, put you still tense in Bakugou's arms when you hear footsteps.

"It's Izuku, love." Katsuki doesn't know where he learnt to be this careful and cozy with people, he thinks it's your fault. You have been the one who taught him so many things, that it actually doesn't surprise him when his big ass hands caress carefully and softly your head, reassuring you on that touch that it's okay to let go of him a bit. "Midoriya Izuku?" He tries his friend's real name, the one name he is sure you would be glad to hear–apart from his. But you simply respond by grabbing Katsuki harder, not letting go. "Hero Deku? Or… shitty Deku," he feels his chest puff in satisfaction when you try to hide your smile against his chest.

"Ha. Ha. Funny Kacchan…" Deku says, sitting on the ground right in front of you. Very different from you, Katsuki can not hide his own smile –not that he would even try to, which makes Deku roll his eyes and also smile. "How are you feeling, Y/N-chan?"

You exhale deeply; the long, tired sigh being answer enough, but you still say, "Like… all of this is a dream. Everything feels… surreal .” You gulp, finally pulling away a bit from Katsuki. He simply let you, hand still caressing your back in confort. “Like I’ll wake up any moment and be laying on the mattress on the floor in that one room apartment I live–used to… live.”

They both notice your slip as you frown and slide a hand through your lock in a clear frustrated sign.

“I don’t know… what’s fact and what’s fake anymore… I…” The tears fill your eyes once again, your hand now grabbing the beginning of your hair. Katsuki immediately grabs your wrist trying to make you let go. “I feel angry and sad… I feel devastated by what happened… But I also feel relief, and– I don’t know what’s the correct way to feel. I don’t fucking know who I am anymore!”

Katsuki hugs you again, rocking from side to side and hushing, whispering that everything is going to be okay.

He feels Izuku’s eyes on him, on both of you. And even if the fucker hasn’t said anything yet, Bakugou knows. FUCK. He fucking knows what his best friend is going to do. So he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Fighting his own tears back.

But he can’t hold them longer after he opens them and sees Aizawa standing at a distance. Waiting patiently. Katsuki hugs you tighter.

“Y/N-chan…” Izuku says, his gloved hand pressing on your shoulder to get your attention. “You need help. Until everything settles back into you, you need someone that can help you with this. Do we agree?”

You nod, crying and sniffing as you pull away again, and this time is Katsuki’s turn to not want to let you go. His arms grab you stronger for a moment as he hides his face on your neck.

He doesn’t want to let you go. He just got you back. He has so much to say and do and prove. He doesn’t fucking want to let you go again.

Katsuki is in denial, he knows. And he also knows he is the most selfish bastard alive for not wanting to let you go so you can properly heal. But everything he has gone, without you, and now having a little taste of getting you back, whether that be even half of you… FUCK! He definitely sounds like the most egotistic, selfish motherfucker of all.

When he’s about to finally let you go, he feels your hand tangle in the back of his head in his hair. And when his eyes find yours, he sees it. He sees the need you have of him, the sadness, the joy, the kindness, everything… He sees the want, the care, the despair . So many emotions it’s even difficult for him to maintain eye contact.

And he sees it. The love…

“If there's something I haven’t forgotten is how I feel about you. But you don't deserve the me of right now…” He shakes his head in denial, his hands holding your face and cleaning your tears with his thumbs. “I will get better… I will come back for you.”

You smile at him, and a simple action hasn't hurt so much as this. Like someone stabbed him with a knife on his chest, right where his heart is. And he’s left there, bleeding towards his death as you caress his cheek delicately one more time and stand up and walk crying towards your old teacher.

Katsuki knows it is for your health and wellbeing, but who’s going to convince his heart that this isn’t again the last time he sees you? That you will come back, that you will look for him in your return.

He brings his knees towards his chest, arms hugging them and hiding his face there. And Katsuki cries. Like a child.

He feels Izuku’s movement to sit next to him as one of his arms surround his shoulder, and he has never been grateful enough to the nerd for being the fucking best friend he has ever had.

Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t look at you parting, walking away from him. He can’t.

But he wishes he had.

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