#after I got into the public school system it faded out hard
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It’s been nothing but grim news for the Chinese economy this year. A hoped-for COVID-19 recovery never materialized after years of repression left the public wary of spending, giving it a case of what economist Adam Posen dubbed “economic long COVID.” (Hear him discussing that idea on FP Live.) Real estate giants have been on the brink of collapse all year. Even the Communist Party has reluctantly acknowledged the scale of the problems it faces, although officials claim that things can only get better. And Chinese dictator Xi Jinping needs someone to blame for everything going wrong.
The sharp slowdown has hit hard in a country that has experienced three decades of uninterrupted high growth. (It would have been four, if not for the interruption of the protests and killings of 1989.) Like the European “30 glorious years” of the postwar era, the notion that each year would be better than the next came to be taken for granted; those days are over.
Here are five perspectives on the Chinese economic crisis—and the impact that it’s left on the public.
1. The Chinese Communist Party Wants the Property Bubble Back
By Robert Foyle Hunwick, Jan. 10
The Chinese growth story has been about property and construction—especially for an urban middle class that was given its homes by the state in the 1990s and watched their value rocket. For years, the government tried to deflate the property bubble, but now it’s desperate to reinflate it. “With unreliable and government-fiddled stock markets, 70 percent of Chinese wealth is held in real estate,” writes British author Robert Foyle Hunwick, an expert on crime in China, “while land sales remain the main source of income for those same corrupt provincial administrators.”
Corruption helped fuel the real estate market as officials bought up valuable property, but it was also a massive source of corruption itself. Real estate deals were greased by bribery, and local leaders grew fat off the proceeds. Everyone else got sucked in, too, and may be left holding the bag. When it comes to presales, for instance, which are the mortgages that most Chinese homebuyers take out on as yet unbuilt apartments, “there’s a local legal twist to it that has caused further headaches: In China, the lender can go after the borrower, as well as developers, if they wish to reclaim any unpaid debt.”
2. How China’s Education System Trapped a Generation
By Helen Gao, June 22
China’s youth unemployment has reached such high levels this year that the government stopped publishing the statistics. For a generation of college graduates raised in cutthroat educational competition against their peers, the discovery that promised rewards have vanished has been traumatic. As Gao, a writer and reporter in her 30s, describes it, “When I read news about state crackdowns on the private sector, I feel a sense of déjà vu. The industries under assault—private tutoring, property, tech, and finance—employed the country’s best and brightest.”
Young Chinese have turned instead to “lying flat”—giving up on the rat race and working the minimum that they can in order to survive. As Gao says, she was taught to sneer at the slackers among her peers, but now she thinks they had the right idea all along. “As my generation’s once-bright prospects fade, the truth comes out: We thought we had left school behind when we graduated. It turns out school has followed us into adulthood and makes us its pupils still.”
3. Xi’s Policies Have Shortened the Fuse on China’s Economic Time Bombs
By Zongyuan Zoe Liu, Sept. 6
China’s economic problems run deep, writes political economist Zongyuan Zoe Liu, from sluggish consumption to a demographic crisis to a housing bubble. But Xi’s policies have taken existing fault lines and deepened them. “Economically, Xi has been a bull in a china shop. His economic policies have often shifted focus but always emphasize the party’s overarching control across nearly all dimensions of China’s economic and financial activity.”
Xi’s obsession with top-down control has wrecked the chances of thoughtful reform. While there was once room for policy experimentation at a local level that could be scaled up later, today the pressure to appeal to the man in charge is stronger than ever. “Chinese policy thinkers attempted to compensate for the absence of prudent economic strategy under Xi by ceaselessly leaping from one grand idea to the next under the banner of national rejuvenation,” Liu writes.
4. China Prefers Guns to Butter
By Jacqueline N. Deal and Michael Mort, Sept. 7
As the economic crisis bites and cities struggle to pay pensions or welfare, there’s one institution that rarely goes short in Xi’s China: the military. Defense spending has kept soaring upward in the hope of winning a confrontation with the United States—or out of fear that Washington might strike first.
“Of course, the history of PLA [People’s Liberation Army] entanglement in China’s domestic economy makes it difficult to discriminate between defense investment for military purposes and internally oriented stimulus spending (i.e., make-work),” Deal and Mort, who run a Washington, D.C., consultancy, note, but “in the event that China continues to fail to transition to sustainable consumption-based growth, Beijing will be left with one of the biggest hammers in the world, and recalcitrant parties abroad may all look like nails.”
The COVID-19 pandemic caused a temporary slowdown in spending—but the economic crisis hasn’t. “PLA investment stalled during the height of COVID on the mainland in 2020 as Chinese shipyards switched from building PLA Navy vessels, a traditional cost center, to building commercial ships—potentially because constructing warships requires tighter working conditions than constructing bulk carriers, and health concerns were paramount. But the spending increases appear to have resumed by last year and to be outstripping GDP growth once more,” they write.
5. Maybe China’s Economy Isn’t So Doomed
By Bob Davis, Oct. 17
Amid all the bad news, some analysts remained bearish on China’s long-term prospects, pointing to the way the country had successfully ridden out previous crises, such as the global crash of 2008 or the peer-to-peer lending scandals of 2015-2018. Veteran China economy reporter Bob Davis took a long look at the optimists. “The optimists’ case relies on a close examination of Chinese economic data but also reflects the view that while President Xi Jinping and the rest of the Chinese leadership are hard-liners politically, they are economic pragmatists who want to follow in the tradition of Deng Xiaoping, who led China’s opening to the West,” Davis writes.
There’s certainly been a tendency to read any downturn in China as doom for the Chinese Communist Party—and it’s worth remembering that states survive recessions, or even depressions, all the time. “Every time the Chinese economy stumbles, there is a tendency to say that finally the end is near,” Cornell University economist Eswar Prasad told Davis. “The optimists’ view might be too optimistic, but it provides some grounding, so we don’t get too carried away every time the Chinese economy stumbles.”
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girls like you. (m) kth
‘swear to god she's a blessing and a curse, should’ve learned from you’
pairing. taehyung x reader
genre. smut, some plot (not really)
word count. 26k
warnings. three separate smut scenes: masturbation in a public bathroom, handjob, exhibitionism on a bus, tae creeps on oc’s nudes, brief mentions of oc being a sex worker, dirty talk, messy sex, praising, grinding, pussy job, cum swallowing, overstimulation, forced orgasms, oral (m. receiving), fingering, begging, use of sex toys (hitachi), color system, use of safe word (yellow not red), crying, edging, choking, cockwarming, oc is very much straight forward and ‘in charge’ but def not a dom
summary. girls like you were the ones he desired from afar. girls like you weren’t the girls you take home to mother. girls like you knew the power they had over a boy like him and fuck, did he love it.
note. this is a reupload of an older story that i took down to be re-edited. it’s essentially pure filth with some plot and it’s mostly an excuse to write something where Taehyung is a little submissive compared to the reader. also 100% inspired by the song girls like u by blackbear. please let me know your thoughts on this thank u ilysm !!
The daily commute from his home to university was always long and boring to put it simply. The monotonous routine was something he could do with his eyes closed. It started the same every morning, waking up with sleep still heavy on his lids, grabbing a quick bite to eat from the convenience store by the bus stop, and waiting in the differing degrees of weather until the hunk of metal creeped up the street.
There was one plus to dragging himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of five am in order to catch the bus on time—really why did he ever think choosing morning classes was the way to go—regardless, the blessing came in the form of a near empty bus the second he stepped on.
Considering he was one of the first stops for this route, he’s lucky enough to always snag a seat. It's the same seat every time and he’s almost positive the regular riders knew this by now. Snagging a seat meant he could tuck his headphones in, rest his head against the window of the bus and pretend the way his head bounced back from the potholes wasn’t killing the last remaining brain cells he had.
What difference would a few brain cells be in the grand scheme of things? He couldn’t care less, always more focused on whatever was on his phone. The brightness was dimmed to an appropriate setting to not burn his dry eyes, strands of hair covering his face as he looked down at his lap, fingers scrolling robotically through his instagram feed and then switching over to his twitter.
It must have been a sign from god that made instagram crash that morning, causing an influx of annoying ‘is instagram down for anyone else or just me’ tweets that made him roll his eyes and choose to lock his phone and lift his head up from its permanent downcast position. He was getting a mean case of tech neck anyways, rolling his head and shoulders to release the awkward tension lingering in his muscles.
That’s when he noticed the eyes staring right at him. Had he looked up more often he would have known that those exact eyes had been watching him intently for weeks now, sitting and hoping he would eventually look up. He’s half expecting you to look away, embarrassed by being caught blatantly staring at him but instead, you tilted your head slightly and gave him a sly smirk, almost as if you’re taunting him to look away. And that’s exactly what he does, his eyes darting away and apparently his whole head wanted to follow, ramming against the window with a nice whack.
Great. Good going man.
He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, refusing to look up because he could just picture you laughing at him. Hell, maybe you were recording him with the purpose to post once instagram decided to get it’s shit together. With that in mind, it didn’t take much debating before he decided that repetitive tweets were more entertaining than making eye contact with you again, unlocking his phone and beginning the endless scrolling once more.
The long ride allowed him to eventually push his embarrassment aside, eyes lazily skimming the words on his screen, not digesting anything he’s reading. It’s not until the bus jolted forward at his stop that he took a chance and looked over at you quickly, noticing you were already up by the front, waltzing out of the doors before he could even get himself up from his seat.
A double take out the window confirmed that he was in fact at the university bus stop, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket and hurrying off the bus before the driver could get annoyed at his slow pace.
Your silhouette was slowly disappearing through the crowd of other students and he had to snap out of his small daze once he lost you entirely, shrugging his shoulders at the odd encounter before making his way towards his first class of the morning.
His university is pretty large, the amount of students here bordering on absurd and it’s the main reason he chose to take the bus to school instead of driving because the parking lot is literally hell on earth. With all that said, he still couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen you before this morning. Had you always taken that bus with him? Also, how long had you been staring at him? Maybe it was just today, but fuck, did that mean he had something weird on his face...or maybe his hair looked jacked up in order for you to just stare.
“You good?” The sound of Jungkook brought him out of the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, coming to a screeching halt and settling back into the dust as he came back to reality. Once his eyes finally focused back in, he realized he’s been staring at some random girl a few seats down with a zombie like expression. No wonder she was now giving him a bizarre look.
“Fuck.” Too embarrassed to even attempt to apologize to his classmate, he averted his eyes and looked to his left where Jungkook sat, a concerned expression on his face as he took a giant bite out of his oversized breakfast burrito. “I’m good.”
Jungkook gave him a once over, narrowing his eyes as he chewed his food, a bit of egg lingering by his lip. “Bullshit.”
The look of disgust on Taehyung’s face was very evident, so Jungkook could only smile before taking yet another massive bite out of his burrito, making an absolute show of chewing the meal.
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
“Thanks.” Jungkook laughed, blowing his friend a kiss before properly chewing and taking a gulp of his water. “You sure you’re good Tae? You were staring into the fucking abyss or something earlier.”
From first glance he definitely looked like he was really thinking about some deep rooted issues. His body had been slightly hunched over his desk, eyes zoned out on that poor girl but his mind was elsewhere. An array of emotions had played out on his face, features contorted into different forms of distress as he had a mental conversation with himself. So when Jungkook walked in and saw him in that state he just had to make sure he was alright.
“I’m fine, just had a weird morning is all.”
The next morning started off the same as always. Taehyung only had two morning classes today so he stayed in his sweats and hoodie, stopping by the convenience store to grab something to eat before getting to his bus stop.
It was routine: his feet dragging along the sidewalk and coming to a halt beside the bench, mind still heavy with sleep, until a flash of a memory pops in so quickly it made him wince.
That’s when he was reminded about you.
You had left his mind after his first class yesterday, the stress of assignments taking over the part of his brain that was curious–and a little embarrassed–about your interaction. All that occupied his day was finishing that essay for his biology class, facetiming Jimin who needed help deciding between shirts before his date, and now the kimbap he currently had in his hand.
But as he sat at the bench waiting for the bus, the only thing repeating in his mind was him smacking his face against the glass so hard his brain rattled, and unfortunately, his breakfast didn’t seem as appetizing anymore.
When the familiar hunk of metal pulled up in front of him he couldn’t help the small feeling of nerves bubbling up in his stomach. He felt a little stupid, how one situation was making him overthink little things when for all he knew you’ve been riding the same bus for months.
He shuffled down the aisle after swiping his bus card, head staring at the floor because he was a little scared to look up and see you on the bus already. Thankfully his usual seat was unoccupied—the last row at the back right next to the right window—so he made a beeline right towards it.
Crinkling from his pockets filled the quiet bus as he finally settled into his seat, setting his backpack onto the floor right between his legs. Moving slowly in order to not draw attention, his hand reached in and pulled out the kimbap from his pocket, peeling it open and taking a bite off the corner. His eyes took a peek up, cautiously drifting over the few passengers on the bus with him and noticing that you weren’t on the bus yet.
Okay, my stop is before hers.
Taehyung’s body instantly relaxed into his seat, a small sigh leaving his lips. The creeping feeling of embarrassment faded away now, allowing him to fish his phone out of his pocket as he enjoyed his breakfast, fingers tapping as he scrolled and liked the occasional picture on instagram.
Considering it was a Wednesday morning all social media was pretty dead, so once he got to the end of everything, he locked his phone and just stared at the scenery blending together.
Before he could fully zone out, something made his nerves light up. A small burning sensation coming from his left and he had an inkling of what it could be. Carefully, he lifted his head away from against the window and let his eyes travel over to where he just knew you were sitting.
Yup. There you were. A few seats closer than last time, sat in one of the single seats facing the aisles, staring right at him. His eyes trailed down from yours and couldn’t help but stare at the small bit of cleavage you had showing in your low cut shirt. A gold charm was resting between your boobs, cursive letters spelling out what he could only assume was a nickname.
He only realized he was blatantly staring at your tits when the sudden movement of your hand coming up brought him out of his stupid fuckboy trance.
To be honest, he was expecting you to move your hand to lift your shirt up or flip him off, he wasn’t expecting you to tug your shirt down a bit further and lean over, placing your chin on the hand that was resting on your crossed leg. His wide eyes drifted up to your lips, seeing the gloss shining off of them, showcasing the little smirk you had on.
You were taunting him, seeing if he would look away this time or not, and surprisingly he hadn’t. He wasn’t looking at your boobs now though, his eyes were zoned in on your lips and the occasional pink bubble you would blow with your gum.
Deciding to take it a small step further, you leaned back a tiny bit and let your fingertips graze the top of your chest while maintaining your gaze on him. That was when his eyes shot down to your chest once more, seeing the heart outline tattoo on your pinky before quickly looking around the bus at the other riders who weren’t paying you any attention.
When he finally got the courage to look directly at your eyes you just gave him a wink before leaning all the way back in your seat and deciding you were done with whatever the hell that was, leaving Taehyung sitting in his seat, slightly sexually frustrated and a little confused at how something so simple could rile him up.
When the bus jolted to a stop in front of the university you hopped up from your seat and headed off to your class with a hop in your step, satisfied with your little game. Taehyung could simply watch with a dumbfounded expression, immediately standing up from his seat and awkwardly holding his bag in front of him to try to hide his junk as discreetly as he could.
This was embarrassing. Why was every encounter he’d had with you this far ended in him feeling embarrassed and you feeling accomplished?
Little did he know that’s how the majority of your encounters would go. The bus ride to school was now the leading cause of his blue balls and the highlight of your rather boring morning. He had now started to see you around school more often, whether that was because he was now looking out for you or purely coincidental, he wasn’t sure but he was certain you were taunting him. Especially with the outfits you would wear. They weren’t vastly inappropriate, but it seemed like every pair of shorts got a little shorter and every skirt a little tighter.
Obviously he knew he probably wasn’t the only dude who was on your radar, so it was a little self centered to assume you were doing this just to him, but it was definitely affecting him to the extent of his friends asking him what the hell was on his mind.
“Honestly dude, what’s your deal?”
“Hm?” he questioned, one hand on the lid of his coffee cup while his eyes stared at the table they were currently sitting around in the nearby coffee shop. Taehyung had been zoned out the entire time his friends had been talking about the upcoming party at Seokjin’s fraternity later this week. His mind just kept repeating the scene that unfolded on the bus earlier that morning with you, a skirt that was too short, and the way you let him catch a glance of your underwear when you accidentally opened your legs too wide when you went to cross them over.
“Like, what porn are you watching that constantly has you in a daze?”
“Yeah, send us a link or something!”
Taehyung frowned at his friends' comments, although they weren’t really too far off. He might not be thinking about porn exactly, but his thoughts were far from pure regarding you.
Jungkook was cackling obnoxiously as the rest of his friends cracked jokes about Taehyung being a porn addict, and honestly it was a shocker they hadn’t been asked to leave from the sheer volume coming from the group. Add the vulgar topic of porn to the mix and it was only a matter of minutes before the cute barista who had a huge crush on Yoongi would come over and shyly ask them to keep it down.
“Shut up,” Tae grumbled out, hand abandoning his coffee cup and aggressively rubbing his eyes. It was almost like he was trying to scrub the thought of you out of his mind like a dirty stain on his clothes.
Namjoon was the one who suddenly gasped like a child finding change on the floor. “Fuck, it’s not porn is it?”
That caused a couple of confused grunts to come from around him, choruses of ‘well if not porn then what’ and ‘no way don’t you see the difference in buffness between his arms he’s totally addicted to some weird shit.’
Taehyung sat up a little straighter, a small look of curiosity on his face as he glanced at Namjoon. Yes, his friend was the genius of the group in every sense of the word but he couldn’t have possibly figured it ou— “Who’s the girl you’ve been literally fantasizing over for weeks?”
Fuck.
Whoops and hollers were the next sound of choice from his immature friends, Hoseok going as far as violently shaking his shoulder while everyone teased him and that’s when Eunha finally walked over very timidly.
“Hey Yoongi.”
Yoongi glanced up at the sound of his name, his smile growing a little softer when he noticed who it was coming from. Everyone knew she had a crush on him—including Yoongi himself—so they always tried to be as nice as possible to her. “Hey Eunha.”
She tucked a piece of her short hair behind her ear, her eyes drifting to everyone around the table before landing back on Yoongi. “Sorry, my boss is just saying you guys are being a little too loud and I don’t want him to kick you guys out so,” she pressed her palms together gently. “Could you guys just bring it down a tiny bit?”
“Shit, yeah. Sorry about that. We’ll keep it down, thanks babe.” A small blush tinted her cheeks at the pet name and she was only able to mumble out a meek okay before she scurried off with a giant smile on her face.
All of them watched her round the corner and slip into the employee only backroom, smiles on all of their faces until the door swung shut, and then they were back to all eyes on Taehyung.
“So, who is she?” They all inched in a little closer at Jimin’s question, acting like fucking vultures, desperate for any bit of gossip Tae was willing to spill. They couldn’t be blamed though, they had witnessed their usual charismatic friend go from flirting with random girls and throwing jokes here and there to basically sitting in class in a weird zombie-like trance. But those were only the days where he had morning classes, so they just needed to find the connection between it all.
“Just some girl I ride the bus with to school.”
There was a beat of silence before Yoongi spoke up. “Okay, so ask her out?”
Now how was he supposed to come out and say that you and him had never really spoken, and he didn’t even know your name and you didn’t know his, and the only interactions you’ve had were very sexual in nature, but you’ve also never physically touched each other? He was stuck, only able to chew on his lips in thought, but luckily his friends took that as a cue to encourage him.
“Yeah man, ask her out or something! Especially if she’s got you this strung up.”
He wanted to laugh, really he did, but he also realized that he really didn’t have anything to lose when it came to approaching you. If he approached you and it didn’t go in his favor then he could just move on with his life. Pretty simple right?
That was how he found himself bolting up the second you did the next morning on the bus, standing a few feet behind you as the bus pulled up to the stop. You had chosen to simply stare at him every now and then during this particular morning, extremely PG compared to the other rides, so he thankfully didn’t have the majority of his blood rushing to his dick today. Because of this, he was hopeful he could actually say some words to you that didn’t make him seem like an asshole.
You stepped off the bus quickly, your heeled booties clicking against the steps and landing on the concrete smoothly, whereas his vans thumped the whole way down with a lot less grace in his haste, but he was able to catch up to you nonetheless.
He didn’t want to shout out your name because well, he didn’t actually know your full name aside from the cute charmed necklace you constantly wore, and what better way to garner more creepy points than to make it clear he stared at your tits. So he chose to jog up to you and place a hand on your shoulder, making your body come to a halt, but it was almost like you were expecting it with the half smile that graced your face.
“Hey, what’s your deal?”
Nice first words Taehyung.
You raised a brow at his remark, arms coming to cross under your chest as you watched him with clear amusement on your features. “My deal?” Your voice had him pausing momentarily, he was half expecting it to sound high and sweet but there was a slight edge to it, the sound a little lower in tone than he had mentally imagined.
“Uh yeah.” He let go of your shoulder and chose to fidget with the black beanie on his head instead, his palms going clammy. “You’ve been staring at me for weeks on the bus.”
You were staring at him intently, watching how nervous he was to even speak to you, not an ounce of shame on your face at being called out. The fact that he was even talking to you had caught you off guard. You weren’t really expecting him to ever say anything at this point since most men would have pounced for a chance to get a word in after the first time they had caught you staring at them.
“Does that bug you?”
“No!” He instantly shouted out, hands outstretched almost as if he was scared of offending you. “I just wanted to know why you…stare?”
You nodded along, your lips turning up at the corners slyly, tongue gently running along the bottom of your teeth as you smiled. “You’re nice to stare at.” His eyes widened at that and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked in that moment. Why did he seem like he was so out of his element?
“And,” you started as you pulled a slip of paper and a pen out of your small side bag, quickly jotting something down before folding it in half. “I’ve just been thinking about how cute you’d look between my thighs for the past couple of weeks, so message me whenever you want.” You reached down and picked up the hand that was resting by his side, your fingers opening his palm and sliding the paper into it before closing it and just walking away without a second glance.
How could you just waltz away as if you hadn’t made him combust internally, calling him cute while slipping in a filthy thought. You hadn’t even cared to get his name before you admitted to wanting to sleep with him, and if this were a frat party and Taehyung was absolutely wasted that’s exactly how he would approach a girl too, but being on the receiving end made him a little unsure of himself.
The tiny folded paper in his palm was spread apart and that’s when he finally learned your actual name, along with your number which was written beside it in black ink and finished off with a heart.
He never got the courage to text you.
Well, not until he saw you on the bus the following morning with a damn lollipop in between your lips. The way you slowly trailed it up towards your lips was just asking for dirty thought to cross his mind.
That was exactly your reason for doing it though, this was like a game for you, he just didn’t realize it and that’s what enticed you to continue it, torturing him slightly since he had failed to reach out to you.
You let the green lollipop rest on your tongue momentarily before gliding it down and letting the tip of your tongue circle around it, seeing his eyes widen slightly at the provocative action.
Taehyung looked around at the lingering passengers to see if anyone was watching whatever this was going down but there was no audience, there never seemed to be one. The only passengers were gathered towards the front, all engrossed in their books or phones so they don’t see the way you swirl your tongue around the candy.
You clearly had the art of seduction down by how quickly he could feel his pants tightening but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were glued on your mouth, the way you were enjoying that stupid sucker was way too sexual and it didn’t help that your eyes were piercing into him. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. With how fixated his eyes were you could tell what thoughts were floating in his mind, especially by the way he shifted in his seat.
Taehyung was currently hating his life with all he had in him for wearing sweats, gray sweats to top it off. Those are surely going to show the nice outline of his half hard dick when he gets up.
He really should look away from you but every time he tried, flashes of you between his legs would entice him to keep staring. There has never been a moment where he felt more like a pervert than right now and he almost felt ashamed to be watching you. Almost.
This was just fun for you, you weren’t dwelling on this as much as Taehyung was. You only ever thought of him when you woke up for class and wondered how you were going to subtly torture him on the commute to school. You wanted to see how far you could take it before he reacted differently, whether that be him approaching you in person once more or finally shooting you a text.
Would he ever make a move on you? It was hard to tell considering he never reached out and what man would turn down an invite for casual sex if he was semi interested. Would he ever tell you to stop? You obviously would, but the way he denied being bothered by you giving him attention just led you to believe he was very much into it.
The subtle shift in his seat also showed you how much he was into the little show you had for him. He had pulled his phone out, tapping on a new message with your name being typed in.
Why are you doing this– he quickly deleted that, the little line flashing as it waited for the next words to be typed out.
Do you enjoy giving me random boners this early– nope delete that too.
The feeling of the bus coming to a stop made him lift his gaze from his phone and back to you, a small wink was shot in his direction before you were standing up and walking your way towards the front of the bus, your lollipop making your cheek bulge out as you let it rest on the side of your mouth. Taehyung just watched you standing there, one hand gripping the metal railing above you as the bus approached the stop. You gave one last glance over your shoulder to see if he had moved before you stepped off the bus, taking the sucker out of your mouth and giving him a wicked smirk before popping it back in and sauntering off to your first class of the day.
Taehyung once again had a boner pressing against the fabric of his pants and he couldn’t help the groan that left him because dammit, this was happening too often. He was tired of having to daydream about nasty shit to get it to go away while you just pranced off satisfied with how you left him.
He hesitated in his seat for a moment, debating whether he should hop off and head back home so he could calmly deal with the current situation in his pants or if he could suck it up and actually focus enough during his first class.
The bus driver looked at his rear mirror and gave him an irritated look, and with that his decision was made for him. Well a compromise actually, he wouldn’t be able to focus in class when all he was thinking about was your lips around his cock and the fact that you admitted to wanting to fuck him, but he also couldn’t leave school entirely because he had a test his next class and the bus ride back to his house and back to school was too troublesome to bother with.
So he was currently headed to the boys restroom in the building his first class was in, a little more pep in his step because he was finally going to fix one of the problems you caused. Did he feel a little shame in him? Yes. He did. But he was currently blocking that out entirely. All he was thinking about was how great the feeling of his hand around his dick was going to be, and that alone was enough to get him to walk just a little bit faster.
He entered the building and climbed up the stairs two at a time, clearly in a hurry but who could blame him. Luckily most classes were currently in session and if someone didn’t have a class they were usually lounging outside or getting coffee nearby so he knew the bathroom would be free of people, proven right when he swung the door open and saw no one inside.
Taehyung walked to the stall the furthest away from the door and deemed it worthy enough before stepping in and locking it behind him. He took a deep breath as he stared at the wall in front of him, having somewhat of a mental debate. Had he really gotten to this point where he had to resort to jacking off in a bathroom stall?
He let one of his palms rub down his face for a moment, but only a moment because he had a problem to fix and right now his throbbing dick was way more important than his morals. So he shrugged off his backpack and hung it behind him on the hook and slid his sweats down along with his boxers, the material bunching together around his thighs.
Taehyung shut his eyes, not being able to stare at the porcelain toilet in front of him as he wrapped his hand around his cock, the feeling making a shudder run up his back. A gentle tug started his motions, his shoulders dropping from finally feeling some sort of relief after the show you had put on for him. The way your pink lips were wet from sucking on your candy made it easy to picture you between his legs, your lips coated in saliva from giving him what he’s sure would be the best blowjob of his life, chin messy as you stuck your tongue out for him.
He could almost feel his hands in between your hair, tugging on your strands as you picked up the pace, so he mimicked it himself, stopping momentarily to spit into his palm to make the glide a little smoother.
Fuck, he really should have texted you, maybe then he wouldn’t be doing something as filthy as this. Maybe—no he definitely would know what this would feel like in real life, but his hand would just have to do.
A groan left his mouth as he tugged on his cock faster now, eyes squeezing shut as he pictured you sucking on the tip of it, your eyes looking up at him in the same piercing way they always did. He’d like to think that you’d deepthroat him, or tease him, maybe even edge him because you definitely liked to torture him. His mind was flipping through a million and one scenarios as his pace sped up, now hunched over the toilet, the hand that wasn’t pushing him over the edge of an orgasm pressed against the wall in front of him.
His hips started thrusting into his hand, joining in on the motion, a whine felt at the back of his throat begging to come out because of how desperate he felt for his release. The pent up frustration he had for himself, and how badly he wanted to fuck you, paired up with his thumb focusing on his tip every time he stroked up brought him to his orgasm. A choked groan left his mouth as his hips stuttered, his hand continuing to stroke himself rather quickly as ribbons of white shot into the toilet. His groans turned into soft whines as he kept up the pace, the tingles he felt on his dick from the oversensitivity felt too good for him to stop, he was way too desperate for this and it was disappointing that it was over. It wasn’t until his hips and stomach continued to twitch that he finally pulled his hand away from his softening dick.
Taehyung leaned his back against the door, feeling the material of his backpack against him as he slumped down. His forehead was sweaty and his chest was heaving from his orgasm but he was content with himself now, mind no longer whirling with thoughts of you and that damn lollipop. He grabbed toilet paper and cleaned himself up before wiping down the toilet seat as clean as he could and flushing the evidence down the toilet.
He secured the strings to his sweatpants once again and stepped out of the stall, standing a little taller, glancing from side to side and letting out a breath of relief that no one was occupying the urinals or stalls. After washing his hands he stepped back out into the halls of his university and headed down the stairs to go sit in the quad to wait for his next class.
You were going to be the death of him. How was it that you had this much power over him and were so unaffected by it? He needed to do something about this, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Taehyung ignored the notifications on his screen from his friends and opened up a new message, typing in your name before staring at the blank thread waiting to be filled.
Taehyung 9:40am : I hope you’re happy with the problem you gave me.
Was that the best message to send? Probably not, but he wasn’t letting himself think about it too much before the spark of courage left him so he tapped send and immediately backed out of the message, choosing to pretend to occupy his mind by reading the texts he got from Jungkook. The typical ‘are you dead’ texts he would send him if he ever missed class, along with a random text from Namjoon asking if he’d made a move on the mystery girl yet.
Taehyung jumped so hard his phone almost fell out of his grasp when it buzzed with a new text from you. His fingers couldn’t move fast enough to open the notification but his smile dropped instantly when he saw your response.
Y/N 9:51am : Who is this?
How should he respond to this? Were you joking?
His lips were pursed as he stared at his screen, waiting to see the three little dots indicating that you were still typing, maybe saying it was a joke but they never popped up so Taehyung decided to be rational and realize that he literally never gave you his name.
Taehyung 9:53am : It’s Taehyung.
Stupid. You wouldn’t know who that was so he went back and started typing another response only stopping when another one of your messages popped up.
Y/N 9:54am :???
Taehyung 9:55am : Boy on bus
He left the messages open, staring at the screen and grinning to himself when he saw the notification pop up under his text, letting him know you had read the message. But when you never replied as the minutes went on, he started to feel a little dejected, so he locked his phone and shoved it deep into his pocket as he tried to go about the rest of his day.
Taehyung liked to think he was a very easy going guy, someone who doesn’t let little things get to him, but that was just him lying to himself. He was relatively chill about 70 percent of the time, but that remaining 30 percent? Oh boy, that was the over thinking, over analyzing, Taehyung.
“Are you okay?” Solji, the girl who sat next to him in his environmental science class asked him. They hardly ever spoke unless they were exchanging notes for upcoming quizzes, but with the way his face currently looked she just had to make sure he wasn’t going through something serious. She tried once more but when he didn’t answer she just shrugged and decided it wasn’t her business.
He had his brows furrowed so deeply there was a small little indent in between them, his eyes focused on the corner of his desk while his mind was trying to think of every reason you hadn’t responded. You could have lost your phone, or better yet maybe somebody had snatched it from you the very second you had read his message. Or maybe, your phone—or his—glitched and you never got the message at all.
Little did he know you were currently sitting in your economics class, tucked away in the back corner with your phone in your hand as the professor lectured with the projector screen on in the dark room. You were purposely ignoring Taehyung’s message, turning your read receipts on just to torture him further.
He had finally messaged you and unfortunately it was not with a invitation to fuck. It did however paint a smile on your face because you knew he was very affected by you from the message he sent.
All you wanted was for him to be more forward. You knew he had jacked off at school, he had to, so why couldn’t he just go ahead and say that. Spice shit up a little and talk about what he was thinking about when he did it. It’s the little things really.
You clicked back onto his thread in your messages, choosing now to respond to him. Your fingernails lightly clicked on your screen as you typed out a response and snickered before hitting send.
Y/N 11:37am : Oh? okay.
Taehyung felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and his heart stopped, eyes widening to the point where poor Solji was once again concerned about his well being. She was gonna ask him one more time if he was okay but his sudden movement had her flinching back and avoiding eye contact as he shoved his hands into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
Oh fuck she responded. He thought to himself as he unlocked his phone to see the notification, he opened the thread and read the message, scrolling up and back down almost as if he was trying to refresh the page for more of the message to load because there was no way in fucking hell that’s all you sent him.
But it was. That much was made very clear after a few minutes passed and you didn’t send anything else.
It was almost like Taehyung’s mind was on autopilot. He had finished his test minutes prior, so he shoved his pencil and extra scantron into his backpack before he stood up and practically stomped his way out of the classroom.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the mystery that was you. It would be very easy for him to just text back and get to know you but this was the 30 percent, over thinking, over analyzing, not chill Taehyung, and that was just not the way he did things.
Not chill Taehyung decided it was appropriate to bail out on his current class as well as bail out on the plans his friends had all made after classes. He decided it was perfectly fine to hop his merry self onto the bus and head on home. The plan was not very thought out, at all, but as he rode the bus home he just knew he would have to do some lurking to find something about you.
While he was doing that driving his mind into the gutter, you were leaving your current class, heading out to meet your friends for a late lunch.
You had your phone held in your hand, almost hoping Taehyung would text back with something a little exciting, but he didn’t. That was fine by you though, he was right in assuming he wasn’t the only guy on your radar and although something about him made you want to pounce on him, if he wasn’t going to act on it then you weren’t going to dwell on it.
“Alright girls so what’s the plan for tomorrow night?” Hani spoke up, rubbing her hands together evilly.
“Be a child of god and go to sleep on time because I have a test the following day.” A chorus of boos followed all around, Sunmi even going as far as tossing a crumpled up napkin at Chungha who only rolled her eyes.
“C’mon Chungha. Just come out for a little bit,” you pleaded, grabbing her hands in yours and giving her the saddest puppy eyes you could muster.
“Ahh, no! You always do this Y/N!” she whined, throwing her head back in frustration. “But fine, only for two hours and I can’t get wasted.”
The three of you cheered obnoxiously, knowing very well that she would end up as trashed as all of you were, but that was a problem for tomorrow night. A problem for tonight however just occurred in the form of a notification on your phone.
You stared at it curiously, it was a notification from your blog that you used on occasion so you opened it up and smirked at what you discovered.
Not chill Taehyung had obviously gone home and did his lurking on you. Nowadays it really wasn’t hard to find anything on anyone considering how open people were on their socials so Taehyung was able to find your instagram with ease, especially now that he had your phone number.
He had scrolled through your feed carefully, seeing group photos with your girlfriends at parties, and an abundance of slightly suggestive selfies. There was one thing that was clear, you definitely had confidence in your body and he admired that.
Instagram only showed him a glimpse of your life and it wasn’t enough for him. Considering Taehyung had an account for every social media made, he knew you probably did too. So he took to a generic search, and even a reverse image search because he was so desperate it was pathetic. But it worked, because one certain photo you had uploaded on your instagram of you in a bikini with your face cut off was also uploaded onto a blog online.
At first glance he assumed it was just a generic porn blog that had reposted your photo, but upon further scrolling he noticed all the photos on there were of the same girl. You.
His first instinct was to exit out of the site and act like he never found it, feeling slightly creepy at what his lurking had uncovered. But the curiosity was eating him alive, so he continued to scroll, seeing simple photos of you in lingerie; never revealing your face or anything else besides your ass and boobs. Along with that were some questions you would answer and with that he gathered that you had quite a bit of fans online.
There was one photo in particular that really caught his attention. The image was a little low quality, showing you with a black heart choker on and a stringy caged bralette that let your boobs pop out, your fingers slicked with something he could only imagine as they pinched your pebbled nipples. The heart outline tattoo on your pinky is what confirmed that it was in fact you in that photo, and that was enough for him to click the heart button on the bottom right to save into his likes for later.
What he didn’t know was that you checked your activity quite often. He also didn’t know that his blog, unlike yours, was not anonymous and had a stupid selfie of him as the icon.
So as he sat in his room and jerked off while thinking about you for the second time that day, you sat in the restaurant and giggled to yourself a little every time he liked a new photo, letting you know exactly what he was up to.
“Are you on that money pile blog of yours again?” Sunmi asked as she chewed on a chunk of butter soaked bread.
“Yes,” you responded simply, taking a sip of your drink and smiling when your friends cheered you on.
“How much have you made with it?” Hani asked curiously, pulling her shirt's neckline out to inspect her boobs.
You thought about it for a moment; you started that blog to help you pay for school and have some left over for yourself and with luck on your side, it took off pretty quickly. While you did post provocative pictures online, they were all pretty timid in nature, so it was only a matter of time before you started getting messages of people interested in purchasing personal pictures or videos.
There were quite a few older men willing to send you hundreds of dollars for simple photos or videos, but the majority of your buyers were people around your age who chose to purchase access to your private account for a monthly fee. It was always funny to you how some of these people went to your school and either had no idea it was you, or chose to pretend they didn’t know you.
“Enough to pay off my tuition this semester and put some away.”
Chungha nodded to herself, thinking it was impressive. “Get your coin girl.”
The following morning Taehyung hopped onto the bus with a feeling of guilt settling into the pit of his stomach, a nasty churning sensation that had plagued him in his sleep. It made him forgo his usual kimbap breakfast, afraid he’d hurl it up the second he made eye contact with you on this ride and the last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment to add to the list.
He shouldn’t have touched himself to those photos that you hadn’t sent to him exclusively, and he definitely shouldn’t have saved them in his likes. Sure they were on a public domain, but still, it made him feel wrong.
He slid into his seat of choice and shoved his earbuds in, drowning out the small hum that filled the vehicle. Taehyung was so focused on trying to fry out the memory of your boobs from his mind by blasting music that he hadn’t noticed the bus stop and the sound of chunky platforms making their way up the aisle.
You sat down a few rows closer than normal, analyzing him for a moment; his dark hair was covering his eyes partially, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his grey windbreaker, and his jean clad legs bouncing rapidly made it so clear he was nervous.
Perfect.
A smile graced your lips as you slipped your phone out, opening up the thread you had with Taehyung, with your very uninterested message being the last thing you had sent him. It’s almost as if the tiny devil on his shoulder called his attention, convincing him to peer over, almost jumping in his seat when he realized you were on the bus and a lot closer than before.
When he saw your attention on your phone instead of him for once, he couldn’t help but think that maybe you had lost interest in this little game. Maybe he had taken it a bit too far and knowing he had jacked off at school to the thought of you had turned you off.
That is until his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sharp eyes darting up and locking onto his right after, a knowing smirk on your face as you raised your hand and waved your fingers at him.
Y/N 8:09am : Hi bus boy.
Oh god.
Why was he so fucking nervous to talk to you god dammit. His eyes drifted back over to you, seeing you still staring at him, your head tilted in curiosity at why he still hadn’t responded.
With slightly trembling hands he begins to type out a response.
Taehyung 8:11am : Hey bu—
His fingers stop when a new message slides up on the screen.
Y/N 8:11am : Thanks for liking my pictures on my blog.
Y/N 8:11am : Saving them for later?
His stomach drops, mind playing a nice little montage of him scrolling through your blog and pressing that damn heart button as fast as he could. How could he be so stupid in thinking he was being discreet?
Taehyung 8:13am : Fuck im so sorry
He couldn’t look back up, his eyes focused on the three dots indicating your typing. It seemed endless. Were you gonna send him a giant paragraph calling him a pig or some other insult, tell him you had blocked his IP address and would be filing a restraining order on him?
Y/N 8:16am : No, it’s my pleasure.
He stared at the text in mild shock, the kissy face emoji at the end taunting him. Were you fucking with him? It honestly seemed like it considering you had hopped up off your seat and walked off the bus, your hips swaying in the small skirt you wore which only taunted him some more.
Taehyung let out a groan as he rubbed his palms into his face in frustration. What the hell was his deal? He felt like a prepubescent boy who had never spoken to a girl let alone slept with one. Maybe he was losing his edge. Regardless, he was done suffering through this alone so he was going to suck up his pride and seek out the help of his friends.
That was how he found himself once again sitting around the table in the small cafe they all frequented. The six of his friends gave him intent stares at he finished off his story, “And my dumbass didn’t think to maybe not like the pictures for later and she sent me this text the next morning.” He paused to slide his phone into the middle of the table with the message thread lighting up the screen, “And now I don’t know what the hell to do.”
Yoongi pressed his lips together as he shook his head, fingers adjusting the olive green beanie that he had on. “You’re a dumbass.”
Taehyung gave him a shocked expression, the wrinkles in his forehead only deepening when he saw the rest of the guys nodding along in agreement. “What the fuck?”
“What?” Yoongi spoke in a monotone, his eyes playfully narrowing at his friend, taunting him to try to defend himself.
“How am I a dumbass?”
Jungkook rubbed his hands together momentarily, looking around at the others to see if they were gonna speak up or if he was gonna have to be the one to do it. “Look dude,” he started off when he realized no one was gonna put Tae out of his misery. “You have this girl throwing herself at you, straight up telling you she wants to fuck you, and instead of acting on it you chose to jack off to the thought of her?”
Now that someone had said it outloud Taehyung did feel a bit stupid.
This was so out of character for him, he was the kind of guy who hit on girls at frat parties and didn’t bother getting more information besides their name before he was taking them upstairs, and now that you were giving him that treatment, he didn’t know what to do.
“Not only are you stupid for not sleeping with her, but who the hell lurks and gets caught? What a rookie mistake!” Hoseok hollers out, causing Jimin and Namjoon to laugh along with him, and Taehyung could only feel his face redden in embarrassment.
Jin had Tae’s phone in his hand, scrolling through the extremely underwhelming messages you two had sent each other when suddenly, it dinged and a new image popped up at the bottom. “Oh wow!”
That caught everyone's attention, all of them leaning over to try to get a glimpse at whatever Jin had seen but he had already locked the phone, the screen turning black and blocking the guys from seeing the teasing picture you had sent Taehyung out of boredom.
“Aw c’mon, what was it?” Jimin whined, staring at the still locked phone that was now in Taehyung’s hands, hands itching to grab the device.
Taehyung sighed. Did he even want to know?
One glance from Jin told him he sure as hell should, so he dimmed the brightness of his phone before he unlocked it to open up your message. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes made out the image, almost causing him to choke on his spit and make a bigger fool out of himself in front of his friends.
There, sitting all nice and pretty in your thread of messages, was a photo of your thighs spread open, your fingers lifting up the tiny skirt you had on today to reveal a small sliver of the black lace panties you had on. Very suggestive, clearly intent to tease him.
‘Just for you’, was the only message you had written underneath, no indication that you would send anything else. Taehyung could only stare at the photo in awe, eyes trailing down the smooth skin of your thighs, desperately wanting to zoom in, but he knew his friends would only clown him further. It was pretty timid in nature but still just as sexy.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned out, locking his phone and letting his head fall onto the wooden table like deadweight. No one had any reaction to the rattle of the table, simply stabilizing their drinks as they observed their friend having what appears to be a mental breakdown.
“What did she send him?” Yoongi whispered to Jin.
“Something mildly NSFW.”
At that, Yoongi reached over and jostled his whole body with force. “Get the fuck up you imbecile. Respond to her!”
“What am I supposed to say?” Tae slurred, cheek smushed against the table and muffling his words.
“Fucking anything is better than the silent treatment dude. Like she just took time out of her day to send you something. You gotta at least tell her she looks hot, or that you like the picture.” Jungkook rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious response, and honestly it was, this was sexting 101.
“You’re right, I guess.” Taehyung lifted himself back up and unlocked his phone once more, staring at the screen with a distraught expression. “The fuck do I say though?”
Hoseok hummed in thought, tapping his chin as he stared at the lid of his cup. “Depends, what kinda photo was it? Full nude or like a tease?”
“A tease.”
“Oh! Tell her something like, she’s gonna be the death of you, or something along those lines. I’m sure she hears she’s hot all the time, so that's too basic.” Jimin speaks up proudly, his smile widening when Taehyung nods and begins typing out a response with slightly shaky fingers and hits send.
The little sound of the message being sent causes the whole group to let out a sigh of relief, slumping back into their seats and taking sips of their drinks.
“Who knew we’d have to resort to coaching Kim Taehyung on how to sext.” Namjoon snorts, earning a couple of laughs in return, and Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh too because honestly how ridiculous.
The conversation flows easily once Jungkook starts talking, everyone momentarily forgetting about Taehyung’s situation, which he was grateful for. The current topic at hand was the party that Jungkook and Hoseok were having in a few days at their new apartment, but his attention was taken away from that when he shockingly received another text from you.
Y/N 7:36pm :Now we can’t have you dying on me.
Y/N 7:36pm : In the mood for some drinks? A couple of friends and I are going out tonight.
Y/N 7:37pm : You should come.
He stared at his phone in thought. Fuck, he wanted to go so bad, but because he had spent all day yesterday jerking off to the thought of you he had procrastinated an assignment that was due tonight. Not chill Taehyung was going to be his downfall.
Taehyung 7:40pm : I wish I could, I have a deadline at 11
Taehyung 7:40pm : Next time?
On the other side of the screen, you were laying in bed in the same outfit you had on earlier, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt as you read his response, a small smile on your face.
In all honesty you weren’t even expecting him to respond to your photo anyways, so this caught you off guard.
Y/N 7:42pm : I’m holding you to that bus boy.
So as you went out with your friends, throwing back shots and dancing your life away to the song playing at the club you guys loved, Taehyung sat at home typing out a bullshit paper as his phone watched your instagram story from time to time.
By the time he was calling it a night after he turned in his assignment you were still posting videos of your friends dancing and pouring drinks into your mouth straight from the bottle. You clearly knew how to have a good time and he couldn’t help but feel a tiny twinge of regret at not going out when you had invited him to.
That same regret seeps into the following morning, rewatching your stories and imagining how much fun he would have had if he decided to forget his assignments and go out with you. It’s safe to say that he was honestly not expecting you to hop on at your usual stop, mainly because he knew from your posts that you didn’t call it a night until 4am and it was currently 7:20am. So, when he saw you step on the bus, he was slightly shocked.
The regular attire he was used to was missing, normally styled hair now up in a messy bun, a thick pair of shades on, and an oversized flannel barely hanging over your shoulder. It was very obvious that you had just rolled out of bed.
His reaction time was a little slow, but when he saw you continue down the aisle and getting closer to him, he tensed up and held his breath, not releasing it even as you took it upon yourself to sit down right next to him. The two of you being the only passengers at the back of the bus.
“Hi,” you spoke out, turning to look at him as he tried his best to just face forward. A sweet smile passed between you when he finally turned towards you and gave you a small hello in greeting.
That satisfies you, so you wiggle in your seat to get comfy, your hands pulling out a book from your bag and starting to read it to pass the time. Taehyung visibly relaxes at that, happy that your attention was on the book instead of him because he wasn’t sure if he could make it through a conversation this early without embarrassing himself.
You take note of his relaxed frame, his head resting against the window and one earbud in his ear playing some song you couldn’t quite make out. That was when you decided to make your move, your eyes still trained on your book as you let your right hand trail up onto his thigh, letting it rest there for a moment to gauge his reaction.
His thigh tenses instantly at the sensation. “You can tell me to stop and I will,” you whisper, your hand already retreating. You knew he was attracted to you but you weren’t gonna do something to him if he was uncomfortable.
Taehyung sits there for a moment, having an internal debate, because fuck does he want you to touch him, but he’s also on public transportation and he’s not sure what the fine is for public indecency. The inner debate is splayed on his features, but in the end the pros outweigh the cons, so he reaches out and grabs your hand, placing it higher up on his thigh.
“No, keep going.”
It was genuine curiosity to see how far you would actually go, and when you told him to put his backpack over his thighs he knew you were being serious. He listened to your instructions and waited with baited breath as he felt your fingertips trail around his crotch, ghost touches sending a small shiver down his spine.
His dick was already twitching in his pants and you had barely even touched him. Your fingers tugged on the string of his black track suits and slipped behind the waistband of them, trailing down his skin and feeling his stomach twitch at the contact. You settled with palming him over his boxers, hearing Taehyung let out a small grunt at the feeling, his dick slowly hardening under your touch.
He was very responsive to your touch, thighs tensing up as he tried to fight back the urge to buck his hips for more friction and it fueled your excitement.
Considering this was a risky move, you decided to stop torturing him with teasing touches and finally slid your hand past the material of his boxers, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his thick cock.
Taehyung could feel the blood pumping in his ears as he dropped his head forward with a choked gasp, resting his forehead on the seat in front of him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to disguise his facial expressions if anyone were to look back.
Every jerk of your hand made his breath hitch. Your hands felt like magic, pulling up to twist around the swollen head and gathering his precum before coming back down. God, he wanted to rip his pants down so he wouldn’t feel so confined.
In the perfect display of nonchalance, you still had the book in your left hand, eyes cast down on the page as if your right hand wasn’t focused on his sensitive tip with determination to make him break down. On occasion, you would glance over and smile to yourself at his facial expression, seeing how his eyes were screwed shut as his forehead rested on the seat, alternating between chewing on his bottom lip or just licking his lips and leaving his mouth open as he tried to suppress the moans he wanted to let out.
“Fuck.” The first crack to his exterior had him finally mumbling out as you picked up the pace, his eyes opening up and looking over at you for a moment, needing to solidify that he wasn’t imagining this. There would be nothing worse than coming face to face with his bed sheets as he awoke from a dream instead of you actually getting him off.
But there you were, looking so at peace, staring at him with an innocent smile like you weren’t about to make him cum in his pants embarrassingly quick. “You close?”
He let out a small whine as he nodded, finally losing the final bit of self control and bucking his hips to meet your hand, hearing the small thump of your palm against his skin. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you make a mess.”
With eyes sparkling with mischief, you tightened your grip on him as you sped up, your bottom lip being chewed on by your teeth while you watched him come undone. His eyebrows were furrowed, a small frown on his face as he opened his mouth in a silent moan, something you desperately wished you could hear. Harsh pants of breath fanned across the back of the seat as he groaned, fingers gripping the material of his backpack to stop himself from digging his nails into his palm as he neared his release. With a few more pumps, his whole body tensed up as he finally came, stomach twitching while you milked his orgasm.
Taehyung vision blanks for a moment while aftershocks filled his body, dots of light flickering across his eyes until it all came back, and as he realized you were staring at him in awe he could have sworn he was gonna cum again. Your hand was still slowly pumping him, feeling his dick twitch at the overstimulation but he couldn’t get himself to tell you to stop, enjoying the small ache of sensitivity too much.
It wasn’t until he started to softly grunt at the pleasure that turned painful that you pulled your hand out of his pants, content smile spread across your lips. Taehyung sat there limp, his body feeling like absolute jello, thighs still shaking from his climax. He can already imagine how unsteady his legs will be once it's time to get off the bus.
You stared at your hand, eyeing the small milky beads of cum on your fingers and you didn’t think twice before popping them in your mouth and sucking on them as you stared right at him. “That was fun. Thanks bus boy.”
He watched in a daze as you stuffed the book back into your bag and got up from your seat, giving him a wide smile while you walked up to the front of the bus. It was only then that he realized both of you had arrived at your college, the boring commute speeding by thanks to your antics. With a spared glance at the displeased bus driver, Taehyung shot up from his seat, cringing at his still sensitive dick and the uncomfortable sticky feeling in his pants.
You were absolutely going to be the death of him
Taehyung was weak, bottom-of-the-food-chain, top tier simp material for you. All it took was one handjob for him to be stuck on you, constantly waiting for any form of interaction you would give him. It was pure infatuation—and a little pathetic—but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. It was like his brain was torn between trying to get to know you in a more personal way, or just going with the flow and fucking you like you had originally offered. It just made him feel more confused, and a little naive, because it was so clear that you had no romantic feelings for him.
This experience had filled Taehyung with a small sense of guilt, he now knew how the girls he treated this way felt. The constant stringing along and nonchalant carefree aura he would have when he would hook up with girls who clearly wanted more, it was fucking frustrating being on the receiving end and even more frustrating because he knew if he really wanted it to stop all he had to do was ask.
But Taehyung couldn’t get himself to ask you to stop. You had a grasp on him, and you did it so easily, which is why when he didn’t see you on the bus the following day he felt his heart drop a little.
Sure, he hadn’t noticed you prior but considering it had been a few weeks of constant contact in one form or another, he just found it a little odd now. His hand was twitching with the urge to send you a text and ask if you were feeling okay but he stopped himself in fear of sounding like a clingy mess.
“Any progress on the mystery babe?” Jungkook asked as they waited in line at the fast food joint near school.
Taehyung smirked a little at that, memories of yesterday's random handjob coming back to mind. “Sort of.”
Jungkook scoffed, “Sort of? Dude c’mon, just shoot her a text and tell her you wanna hang out, or be blunt and ask her to fuck.”
In retrospect that would be the typical route Taehyung would take, but there was something about you being so in control of this dynamic that had him so unsure of himself. “Look man, she’s different.”
“Oh no—“ And immediately Taehyung knew how that had come out. “Do not say you like her. You barely know her.”
He raised his hands in front of him, “No! Not like that Kook! I just mean that I don’t know how to act.” He let out a sigh, feeling annoyed with himself with this entire situation. “I hope I don’t sound like a total douchebag saying this, but I’m used to girls who let me take charge in situations you know?”
Jungkook nodded, staring at his friend as he spoke, “Girls that basically follow me around and let me decide if I wanna keep them around—and I hate how I sound speaking like that—but it’s the only way I can explain it.” He let out another defeated sigh, definitely something that had become a common form of expression for him. “She doesn’t do that shit, and I don’t know how to act like myself because of it.”
The younger man nodded again, knowing exactly what he meant. “I knew a girl like that, honestly the best two months of my life. Look dude, if she's making it clear that she doesn’t want anything serious then what's the dilemma? She’s confident in herself and you shouldn’t feel intimidated by that.”
Taehyung hummed at that, he was right as Jungkook continued, “And who knows, maybe she’ll help you realize that chains and whips excite you.”
And there was typical Jeon Jungkook. “I fucking hate you.”
Jungkook let out a cackle before turning his attention to the poor cashier who unfortunately had to hear the end of his statement. As he ordered for himself and Taehyung, the latter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was half expecting it to be a message from Hoseok asking him some dumb question, so when he saw your name on his screen he thought he was hallucinating.
Y/N 12:17pm : Hope you didn’t miss me too much today
Y/N 12:17pm : Come to this
Y/N 12:17pm : You promised me next time bus boy
Attached to the messages was a photo of a party flyer he was very familiar with. It was the silly flyer Jungkook had spent around 5 minutes making to promote their party tomorrow night, and the fact that you had come across it either meant it really got around or you had a mutual friend.
He looked up momentarily as Jungkook tapped him, motioning for him to follow to an empty table as they waited for the food. Taehyung blindly walked behind him, eyes downcast on his screen as he typed a response.
Taehyung 12:19pm : I’ll be there
Your response was instant and it caught him off guard because you usually lagged on messages.
Y/N 12:19pm : I’ll be waiting
But it seemed like Taehyung would be the one waiting. He was standing at the corner of the living room with a drink in his hand and his phone in the other, waiting for you to text him as his eyes scanned the current room.
Jungkook stood beside him, animatedly talking to a cute girl who had grabbed his interest, too busy to notice his friend eyeing the room like a hawk. Taehyung wanted to wander off and find someone for himself, but the idea that you would eventually be here kept him glued to one spot.
It was nearing midnight and people were already making messes of themselves, passed out on the couch and some even on the front lawn. Jungkook and Hoseok’s new place was more spacious than their last, but it was definitely overcrowding so people were coming in and out frequently from the front to the backyard to get some fresh air.
“I'm gonna go get another drink.” He told Jungkook, who waved him off and continued his conversation while Taehyung made his way to the kitchen.
He used the same cup he had in his hand and filled it up with vodka and cranberry juice, his favorite drink of choice right next to drinking it straight. Then suddenly, it was like a magnet forced him to look up and over his shoulder, and that's when he spotted you and your group of friends.
You all walked in with big smiles on your faces, one of your friends walking over to Hoseok and giving him a hug, and that's who he assumed the mutual friend was. Your hair was flipped over your shoulder as you played with it with your hands, small crop top showing just enough cleavage and your stomach, and Taehyung could just feel himself staring.
That's when your eyes met his, and they glinted with something he couldn’t pinpoint. Your target had been acquired, and as he saw you making your way over to him he choked a bit on his drink.
“Bus boy.” Was all you told him, a smile on your face as you easily slipped beside him against the counter, elbows resting casually on the cool surface as you leaned back.
“Hey...bus girl.” he awkwardly responded, feeling like an idiot immediately after. You only giggled, your fingers wrapping around his own on the cup as you brought it from its place against Tae’s mouth over to your own for a sip.
“Mm, vodka cranberry?” You licked your lips, and his eyes were glued on them. “How’d you know that's my drink of choice?”
“Lucky guess?” He slowly responded back, gently taking the cup back from your grasp when you handed it over, his eyes glancing at the sticky residue your gloss left on the rim of the cup.
You were analyzing him, watching him standing there with an aura of unsureness around him. You see, you knew of Taehyung, had a couple of friends who had hooked up with him, and this is not what they described him as. They always told you he was assertive, the first to make a move and once he had he was aggressive in bed in the best way. That’s why he had caught your attention, you wanted to see how hard it would be to crack him, break him down until he was begging and pleading since he was so used to taking charge. The possibility of having him on his knees, holding on to your every word, made this sick sense of pleasure creep up your spine.
Taehyung was handsome, that wasn’t up for debate, but you could see him biting his lips almost like he had a million things he wanted to say to you but was afraid they wouldn’t come out right. Cracking him might be easier than you thought.
“Did I miss all the fun?” The question hung in the air for a moment as flashes from the night played through his head. Jungkook kicking out some dude for trying to piss in the kitchen sink, Hoseok doing a line of who knows what off some girls boobs and her boyfriend trying to fight him, among a plethora of incidents in the span of a few hours.
“No, definitely not. The night is still young.”
You only stared at him, waiting for his eyes to finally look at yours instead of pretending like he didn't notice you. And finally, they did, narrowing a bit in suspicion as he wondered what you were thinking in your head.
“So,” you began, confidently grabbing his drink again. “Have you taken my offer into consideration?”
He was so focused seeing your tongue lick your lips to catch the remaining moisture of the drink that he almost didn't hear your question. “I’m sorry, what offer?”
A small laugh left your lips at his question. “You really forgot already?” You only gave him a moment of silence before you continued, “The offer that involves you fucking me, or are you turning it down?”
Taehyung froze, taking in your facial expression before answering. Your mouth held the same sinfully evil smirk it always had, head tilted slightly as you handed his drink back to him and shot him a wink before you sauntered off towards your friends who had watched the entire exchange go down.
They instantly tugged your wrist and yanked you towards the sliding doors that lead to the backyard where a game of beer pong was going down. Chungha was all giggles, not being able to believe the new person of interest in your eyes was Kim Taehyung.
Taehyung on the other hand just let his eyes follow your body until the sliding door was shut once more. He had taken too long to respond to your question, his mind had been shouting at him to just blurt out that yes, he had taken your offer into consideration and he one hundred percent wanted to fuck you. Too bad his mouth decided to sew itself shut.
He took another swig of his drink, swallowing harshly with a bit of determination set on his mind. By the end of the night he had to make a move on you, that much was for sure. He was tired of you always having the upper hand with every interaction you had. This party was his element for fucks sake, he was a seasoned pro when it came to sleeping with random girls at house parties. The only difference this time was that none of them had come on to him as boldly as you had, but that wasn’t a problem at all.
Jungkook slapped a palm on his shoulder, making his drink slosh in the cup and catching him by surprise. When Tae looked away from the sliding door and over to his left, he could see Jungkook was also looking in the same direction with a knowing smile on his face. “Oh man, she’s trouble.”
Tae’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, who?”
“Y/N, man. Who else?” He released his grip on the older one's shoulder, taking a sip of the beer in his other hand while he nodded his head in thought.
Taehyung was clearly out of the loop here, “How do you know her?” He mentally sorted through the girls he had seen Jungkook with in the past, even trying hard to remember any girls he had mentioned in passing and you had never come up.
Jungkook took another drink of his beer, wondering how to go about this carefully. He could be honest with Tae and tell him he had met you last semester at a club that was popular with the students at the university. How you had been the absolute best sex of his life for two steady months, and then suddenly dropped him without a care in the world—which would have absolutely crushed Jungkook if he let himself get attached but he hadn’t, he swore he hadn’t. He was kinda shocked and very amused that you had chosen his best friend as your new target, even if it was purely coincidental.
In the end, he decided being honest wasn’t necessary. “It’s not important, just know she’s pure trouble in the best way. Is she the bus girl you always talk about?”
That answer didn’t satisfy Tae but he was too busy thinking about how to make a move on you to dive deeper. “Yeah, she is.”
Jungkook nodded, hearing Jimin calling him from somewhere in the house with a very slurred voice. “Well, I hope you’re planning on making a move on her tonight or I’ll let all the guys know what a pussy you are.” He jostled Tae’s shoulders once more with a hearty laugh before running off towards Jimin who was surely drunk as fuck.
Outside of the house stood you and your friends, surrounding the beer pong game going on between Yoongi and Seulgi. Your eyes were peering behind you, staring through the glass doors as you watched Jungkook speaking to Taehyung for a brief moment. You smiled to yourself, knowing the small mess you might be causing between friends but not caring enough to stop it.
“This winning shot is for you gorgeous!” Yoongi shouted out, blowing a sloppy kiss out towards Sunmi before tossing the ping pong ball haphazardly towards the last remaining cup and somehow making it in.
“That winning shot made me lose!” Sunmi erupted in laughter while everyone cheered at the end of the game. Seulgi rolled her eyes with a playful smile before chugging the last cup and walking back to your group.
“I don’t know how that fucker beat me considering his blood alcohol content should have his ass in a coma.”
You laughed, throwing your arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to you. “It’s because Sunmi told him that she’d give him her number if he got the winning cup. I guess desperation makes boys a little more sober.”
“Pigs.” She grumbled with a laugh, watching as Sunmi and Yoongi exchanged information, both of them looking like flustered children with blushing cheeks. “Anyways, are you gonna torture that poor boy inside all night?”
“Hm,” you hummed to yourself. “Is it really torture if I gave him a way in?”
“Oh please Y/N, has any boy ever taken to your advances that quickly? You’re intimidating as fuck, in the sexiest way possible. He’s probably not used to girls telling him shit like that so he doesn’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, but Yuna told me he was blunt as fuck with her when they slept together.” Your eyes peered back inside, no longer being able to see Taehyung.
“Yuna? Kang Yuna?” You nodded, looking up at Seulgi and seeing a look of disbelief on her face, “Dude, she’s the most timid, shy, submissive girl I’ve ever met. Guys eat that shit up. That’s what guys like Taehyung are used to. You spicing it up has him second guessing everything, so I say you keep it up. Be two steps ahead of him.”
You knew she was right, even though this was an exciting game of cat and mouse for you, you'd be lying if you said you weren’t slightly interested in him for more than just a one night stand.
“You gonna play?” Chunga popped in beside you, a grin on her face as she held a white ping pong ball in her hands. You smiled back and gave her a nod, letting her tug you towards the table being set up.
Yoongi stood wobbling on the other side, claiming to want to hold on to his winning title but the boy was clearly close to passing out from the amount of alcohol in his system. That was when another boy stood beside him, his frame towering over Yoongi’s and a charming smile on his plump lips as he tried to coax Yoongi into going inside to drink some water.
Chungha hummed in approval as she took his appearance in. “Wow he’s...”
“Yummy?”
She snorted out, “Oh yeah, definitely yummy.”
Yoongi was bickering with said yummy boy until Sunmi approached him again and put on her best flirtatious look to get him to follow her inside the house. He was done for after that, handing his friend the ball in his hand with a lazy wave, his half lidded eyes trailing down Sunmi’s body as she dragged him behind her. He probably thought he would be getting laid tonight but Sunmi was in mom mode, so unless he was ready to down a gallon of water and sober up, the only thing he would be doing is going straight to sleep.
“Hey, yummy guy, are you playing or not?”
He looked startled by the nickname, his hand coming up to point at his chest in confusion. When you and Chungha gave him a look that said yeah you his mouth opened up slightly before he was smiling again. “Yummy? Wow, can’t say I’m opposed to being called that.” He started to laugh at that and Chungha sighed at the sound, yup she was a sucker.
“I don’t have a partner to play against you two.”
You stepped back from the table with a shrug. “Don’t mind me, he’s all yours Chungha.”
They instantly started chatting with each other, playful threats and possible bets being made for whoever lost this game, but you weren’t planning on staying to watch this go down. The friends you had left on the sidelines watched you saunter away and they knew exactly where you were headed.
You wandered inside the crowded home and let your eyes scan the room, the kitchen was immediately to the left of you, a group of boys huddled around the alcohol as they made drinks, but no sign of Taehyung. Grabbing the lone vodka bottle from the counter, you took a quick swig before you resumed your hunt, ignoring the nasty burn to your throat.
A few more steps inside towards the living room didn’t reveal him either, too many bodies moving together to some random beat playing through the speakers placed around. There was a hallway to the left and another to the right, you chose to go towards the right side, side stepping random cups left on the floor.
A few voices were at the end of the hall, coming out of the only open door so you continued near them, desperate to see a familiar face until you came to a stop in front of the bathroom. You rested your shoulder against the door frame, seeing Jungkook leaning over his friend’s hunched form as he clung to the toilet bowl. Although this was a familiar face, he was not the one you were searching for.
As if sensing your presence, he looked up and over at you, a gentle smile gracing his face when he saw it was you. “You got the invite I see.”
You smiled back at him. “I did. So did the rest of my friends, you know, from Hoseok.” The drunken friend on the floor dry heaved for a moment, making Jungkook look back down at them and pat their back.
“He’s probably on the front lawn smoking by the way.” He spoke again, not needing you to explain who you were looking for, and you were grateful because you weren’t in the mood to play dumb.
You pushed off the door frame and stepped back, hearing him shout out a sarcastic ‘I know you miss me’ as you walked away. “Save it Jeon!” You playfully shouted back. You knew he missed you, he had told you plenty of times ever since you decided to stop sleeping with him.
Of course Jeon Jungkook had been a good fuck, having been one of your favorite switches. Very true to his reputation, he could fuck you all night long with no issues, bringing you to orgasm enough times until you were crying for him to stop, while also letting you tie him up until he was the one begging—but he’d gotten attached.
He could deny it all he wanted, but you sensed the change instantly. It creeped up in moments where he’d ask you to spend the night instead of leaving after hooking up, seeping into him asking you to hang out in day to day life instead of just 3am booty calls. And that just wasn’t something you were interested in having at the time. It wasn’t a jab at Jungkook, he was a nice guy if you were being honest, but that was old news.
So as the music blasted in the house, sounding muffled to your ears, you walked with a purpose, weaving in between people as you crossed the living room and reached the front door.
The fresh air met you the second you pushed the door open, loud bass spilling out of the house and into the front lawn, dimly lit up by the porch light. It allowed you to instantly spot Taehyung, a barely lit blunt between his fingers as he spoke to a taller boy beside him. At the sound of the door opening they both looked over in your direction, the taller one offering you a smile while Taehyung took a drag and gave you a nervous wave.
You weren’t going to bother talking to him out here, he turned into a deer caught in headlights whenever you did so you just walked over to him, plucked the blunt from between his fingers and handed it to his friend before wrapping your hand around his wrist and dragging him behind you. The two of you needed to be alone, not around drunk party goers, or both of your nosey friends.
Taehyung didn’t resist at all, looking over at Namjoon and seeing his friend had a shit eating grin on his face as he got dragged inside. You clearly had a mission, shoving your way through the sea of bodies again as you trekked to the opposite hallway this time, going for the only room on this side of the house.
The bedroom door got thrown open and thankfully no one was inside of it. Taehyung slammed the door shut behind him and locked it as you turned to face him, inches separating you and you let out a soft breath at the close proximity. “Do you want this?”
His mind fogged over briefly as he watched your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal more skin. “Yes, I do.”
Those were the words to set it all in motion, hands yanking your shift off your body and tossing it aside, leaving you standing in your bra for him to ogle at.
“Better than the photos huh?” you tease with a honey-sweet voice, reminding him of his deep dive onto your blog while your hands slid behind your back to unhook your bra and let it completely slide off.
Taehyung couldn’t help but stare as your hands came up to give your boobs a squeeze. “Fuck.”
He stepped forward, wanting to finally touch you but you tsk in disapproval, shaking your finger at him and it just made him pout. Isn’t that what you wanted from him?
His breath hitched in his throat when you stepped even closer, tips of your fingers trailing from his shoulders to his chest, down to the hem, bunching the fabric in your grasp as you tugged it up and off of him. His arms raised up with no protest as you undressed him, wide eyes just watching your every move, ready to do whatever you asked of him. It was so out of character for him, but that much could be said about every interaction he’s had with you so he goes with the flow of it all.
Goosebumps rose up on his tan skin as you trailed your hands down to play with the button on his jeans, fiddling with it to tease him. You wanted to cover his chest and stomach in hickeys, marking every inch of him up, bruising and teasing him until he was pleading for you to suck his cock. There was just something about him that made you want to see him flushed and desperate.
He could see you lost in thought as you stared at his body, now hyper aware of the fact that he wasn’t absolutely ripped, but you liked that. His arms came up again in an attempt to pull you in to kiss you, but you stopped him once more, finally snapping out of your daze.
“Do you deserve to touch me?” His mind blanked at your tone, the slight edge he had heard the first time you spoke was back, and something about it made his body tingle. “Hm?” you hummed when he remained quiet.
That glint in your eye returned and his head shook without him realizing, no he didn’t deserve to touch you.
“Take it all off and lay on the bed,” you spoke sternly, the smirk on your face growing when he did as you said. His body hunched over and stumbled as he stripped out of his pants and boxers, his shoes and socks long gone beside them. Taehyung followed instructions and laid on the bed, feeling a little guilty that poor Hoseok’s bed would be defiled like this, but when you slid off your own pants and underwear he couldn’t find himself to care anymore.
His cock was already hard and twitching as it laid against his stomach, and he could feel the small pool of precum gathering under his belly button, leaving a sticky mess on his skin. You hadn’t even touched him and he was this riled up already, terrified he would cum the second you decided to touch him, so his hand came to grasp the base of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze.
That action wasn’t lost on you as you slowly approached him, your knees resting on the mattress while you shuffled towards his body. Your fingertips trailed up his thighs softly, going around his cock and up his chest where your nails lightly grazed his nipple. His body shuddered at the touch, and the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the reaction made him nervous.
You swung your leg over his waist, hovering above his skin but not making contact just yet. Taehyung had never been patient, his eagerness getting the best of him, and just as his hands rose up—about to touch your hips and force you to plop down on his cock—your own hands reacted, grasping his before he could touch you and bringing them above his head, successfully catching him off guard.
“You said you don’t deserve to touch me.”
His eyes widened in realization, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a way to take back the words that he said earlier. Fuck, he wanted to touch you, he could see your pussy hovering inches over his cock, and he bet he could slide right into you from how wet you looked, already picturing the feeling of your warmth as he sunk into you.
Your hands grasped both of his wrists, leaving his arms pinned above his head as your other hand reached down, and he held his breath. There was a brief moment where he thought you’d show him mercy, hoping you were going to grab his dick from between your bodies, but when he saw your index and middle fingers part your lower lips he let a groan escape him. You trailed them up your slit and back down to circle around your entrance with a quiet hum, bringing your fingers back up in front of Taehyung’s eyes, watching him stare at them in awe as you separated them and your slick strung across from them.
“It’s a shame.” Your eyes trailed up to his hands again, seeing them clenched together in your grasp. “I’d love to have your hands inside me, but maybe next time.”
“No,” he croaked out, hips desperately lifting up in hopes of grinding into your pussy but he fell short. “Please, let me touch you.”
The begging satisfied the sick itch you were hoping to scratch, leaving you grinning above him. You had just started, yet his eyebrows were already furrowed, eyes locked in a trance on your fingers that were still in front of his face.
“Not today, baby. Do you want a taste though?” He was nodding the second the proposal left your mouth. Taehyung licked his lips in desperation, mouth opening up as you brought them towards his lips, his neck craning forward and wrapping his lips around your fingers to taste the remnants of your arousal. His tongue flicked between your fingers as he sucked like his life depended on it, the urgency displayed had more wetness gushing out of you, and when Taehyung’s eyes darted towards his abdomen, he saw that some of it had dripped onto the skin below where you hovered.
You pulled your fingers out of his mouth and brought them back between your legs to tease yourself further. “Fuck, this could’ve been you doing this to me Taehyung.” You gasped out as your fingers flicked over your clit repeatedly and he whimpered, head falling back to rest on the pillows because he couldn’t take watching you get yourself off above him while his dick lay hard and leaking right below you.
You snickered to yourself, finally deciding to take some pity on the man, reaching below you to grasp his cock. His neck tensed up at the action, head whipping back up to make sure he wasn’t imaging anything. But there you were, small hands barely wrapping around his thick cock as you gave it a gentle tug. Your fingers were covered in your slick, making the glide feel delicious, spreading your arousal around his length and mixing with his own in a sinful combination.
Taehyung’s chest heaved slightly as you picked up your pace, your fingers coming up to play with his pink tip before going back down quickly, hands set to tease him. He was trying to stop himself from moaning, you already had his arms restrained, he didn't want to give you this much power over him, but when your hands came down to fondle his balls he couldn’t hold back the needy whine that left him. The desperation behind him just made your pussy clench, and you really wish he could fuck you, but you weren’t going to let him get his way this easily, not when he hadn’t worked for it.
“Keep your hands there.” You spoke firmly as you released your grasp on them, smirking at his obedience when his fingers chose to wrap around the poles of the headboard behind him instead. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do, but he was hoping your next move would be sinking onto his cock.
“Wait,” he spoke up as you placed both your hands on his chest. “I don’t have a condom,” he admitted, face scrunching up when he saw you freeze in your action of dropping down on top of him.
“Oh,” you cooed, left hand coming up to cup his cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry about that.” His heart was torn because although he loved going without a condom, he didn’t know you enough to trust continuing without one. “You’re not fucking me.”
And now his heart was shredded, thrown into a dumpster, and set on fire. “What?”
Your fingers traced his cheek softly as you smiled at him. “Only good boys get to fuck me and you—“ you patted his skin in a gentle, yet firm, slap. “—haven’t been good.”
A pout forms on his lips because now he’s desperate, and also confused. Why would you strip out of all your clothes just to tease him like this? Were you going to finish yourself off on top of him and just leave? He wasn’t entirely against that scenario because he’s sure it would be hot as fuck, but his dick was literally throbbing.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you had shuffled down a bit and rested your dripping pussy right on top of his cock, your lips parting slightly as you rocked your hips forward. And then he was gasping, his hands detaching from the headboard and instinctively wanting to grab your hips, but they stopped an inch or so away, catching his own mistake. His fingers remained trembling in the air, a moan finally leaving his lips at the feeling of you grinding on his cock, the relief of you not leaving him high and dry taking over.
Keeping your palms on his chest, you used them as leverage to help you move, a wicked smile on your face when you saw the internal debate he was having. He could touch you if he really wanted to, he could say fuck your rules and grip your hips so hard they’d bruise, but he didn’t. He listened to you, his shaking hands retreating back to the headboard with a groan of restraint.
“Good boy,” you spoke softly, his cock twitching at the praise. He liked this, the foreign feeling of being pliant underneath you, letting you call all of the shots, it was igniting a warmth inside of him that he never expected.
Taehyung could feel his stomach becoming a sticky mess from his precum and your wetness dripping down from his cock, but he didn’t care, he loved when it was messy, loved hearing the squelching sound filling the room every time you rocked your hips. The fact that you were this drenched from teasing him just turned him on more, and he really wanted to say fuck it and ask you to sink onto his cock, but you told him to be a good boy so that’s what he would do.
“Feel good?”
“S-so good,” he whined out, breathy and strained, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to it.
His thighs were tense and aching, forcing himself to not thrust forward in fear that you’d stop what you were doing, small moans leaving his lips when the tip of his cock would brush against your clit. He looked fucked out underneath you, eyes blown open as he locked onto the spot between you two, watching his messy cock peek out between your legs when you’d grind your hips back.
Taehyung had never cum from doing this, it was something he had never tried before; he was used to the quickness of fucking at parties, some fingering being involved before he slid in from behind. But he could feel himself edging closer to his release embarrassingly fast, the sinful moans leaving your mouth only aiding in pushing him over faster.
You had a good rhythm going, his cock trapped between his stomach and your pussy, and even though he was trying his best not to be vocal, you could see he was close to falling apart. His hands were clenching the headboard so hard they were paling, and if that wasn’t enough of an indication his face surely said it all.
Leaning over his body, you let your face inch closer to his as you sped up your hips. At your proximity Taehyung finally spoke up, “Can I-fuc—” he shuddered, “—can I please kiss you?”
Your eyebrow cocked up at his request, not expecting that to be what he wanted from you. “You want to kiss me?”
Taehyung's dark hair bounced on his head as he nodded frantically. “Yes,” he gasped out, squirming underneath you as you bucked harder on top of him.
He wanted to kiss you, your lips looked so soft and shiny, and he wanted to feel them on top of his. Honestly what he really wanted was to flip you over and fuck you senseless—he had the power to—the weight of you on him was nothing he couldn’t overpower, but something about you being in control of his pleasure was doing things to him.
When your hair grazed his chest from you dropping down, his heart skipped but your lips chose to kiss his neck instead, small traces and licks on his skin as you trailed up towards his jaw until finally you reached his lips. They were tacky from your lip gloss but he didn’t care, they felt as soft as he imagined, and when you snuck your tongue into the mix Taehyung whimpered into your mouth. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, pleasure rolling over him in waves that only intensified when you wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked.
You could feel his body tensing up from underneath you, his climax creeping up on him, so you rocked faster, sinking your teeth into his plump bottom lip and tugging back. That was the final push before he was cumming, face screwed up the same way it was on the bus and a rough groan that you swallowed with another kiss.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
Another moan spilled out as you continued your movements, feeling his cum splashing up towards his chest from the force, some of it dribbling down his cock and settling onto your pussy. “Wow,” you mused, lips pulling back from his and looking down to see the mess he had made, his breathing continuing to shudder until you came to a stop.
Taehyung kept his grip on the headboard, a lot more limp than before, vision hazy from his orgasm and entire body tingling. You lifted up from him and shuffled further down, licking the trail of cum on his stomach with a grin when you noticed how his sensitive cock twitched at the visual.
Trying to save face, he turned his head into his upper arm to shield himself, the small burn of embarrassment felt at the fact that he had just blown his load from you grinding on him in record time.
You weren’t finished with him yet though, your body still slowly sliding down him, fingers leaving feather-like touches on his skin that he mistook as you soothing his shuddering body, until they grasped his cock.
“Oh,” he winced, feeling your fingers grazing his sensitive dick, your mouth quickly enveloping it, making his back arch from the sudden sensation. It was no secret that Taehyung had a love for overstimulation, constantly toeing the line between pain and pleasure when he continued to jack off after cumming, but your warm mouth was new.
His sore fingers released the headboard, elbows straightening up because he had to watch this, had to burn this point of view into his mind forever. You were crouched at the bottom of the bed on your knees, ass up in the air as you swallowed his cock, your tongue swirling around it when you felt it start to harden again.
“H-hurts,” he admitted with his hips twitching, not sure if he wanted to thrust into your mouth or back away. Your hands rested on his hips to stop them from moving as his dick slipped out of your mouth with a pop.
“You want me to stop?” One hand was lazily jerking him as you spoke, his dick twitching in your grasp once more.
No, no he was loving this. The pleasure was sharp but it was spreading a warmth throughout his body. Could he cum again?
He was clearly having a hard time deciding if he wanted you to stop or not, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he moaned softly, but Taehyung liked the pain, you could tell.
When your mouth took him in again he gasped lewdly, his elbows giving out and letting him flop back on the bed with a thump, fingers gripping the crumpled sheets beneath him. “No, no,” he whimpered again when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. “Don’t stop, god.”
He could feel you smirking around his cock, your tongue coming out to flick the tip of his dick, red and swollen and once again dripping. One of your hands wrapped around the part you couldn’t reach, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth; the other was dipped between your own thighs, fingers sinking into your cunt and thrusting them to match your motions.
Taehyung had his hands gripping onto the bed sheets to stop them from tangling into your hair and forcing you to take all of him, but his head peeked up, and when he saw you playing with yourself he sat back up, hips finally coming up to thrust into your mouth. Whimpers of pain and pleasure filled the room, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he felt pressure start to bloom in his lower stomach.
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle having another orgasm, every time he’d hit the back of your throat he felt the wind get knocked out of him, knees acting on reflex and shooting up to try to squirm away from your grasp.
The want to scold him was strong but you were getting closer to cumming, and seeing him losing control only made you moan around his cock. You pulled your fingers out of yourself, and with a few more flicks on your clit you were cumming. Taehyung watched in awe as your hips stuttered, and the moan you let out just urged him to keep thrusting into your mouth.
His fingers were sore from the grip he had on the sheets and when he saw the drool leaking out of your mouth as you sunk all the way down, he finally felt the band snap, a throaty moan leaving his lips as he bowed his back into the mattress, the pain and pleasure blending together beautifully and bringing him to one of the best orgasms of his life. This load was a lot smaller than the last, but he was completely spent now, body lying limp on the bed as he tried to catch his breath.
Swallowing the cum on your tongue with a smirk, you took him in your mouth once more to tease, pulling back and placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his soft cock.
“Such a good boy.” You teased as you made your way back up to him with a genuine smile on your face. Your soft lips pressed against his again, mouth opening up and he could taste himself on your tongue but he didn’t mind it. With a little hesitance, his hand came up to finally touch you, fingers tangling into your hair as he deepened the kiss, your teeth clashing together a few times because he couldn’t get enough.
He watched as you pulled back from him, your tongue tracing your lips while you flipped your hair behind you again. “You know, you’re pretty when you cum.” And he doesn’t know why, but the statement made him blush. No one had ever told him he looked pretty when he came.
“Thank you?”
You giggled, still on top of him. “You’re welcome. I’ll be thinking of it when I touch myself later.” You gave him another quick peck before you got off of him and started putting your clothes back on. Taehyung was in a state of shock as he observed you, he had cum twice and still hadn’t fucked you, and you were very clearly getting a kick out of it.
A final adjustment was done to your skirt before running your fingers through your hair, looking back at him still limp on his friend's bed, limbs resembling jello. It was cute, but you knew you had to trail him along further so you shot him a wink, opening up the bedroom door and waltzing out like you hadn’t just ruined him.
The haze that surrounded him whenever you were around him faded as you left and Taehyung sprung into action with a yelp, wrapping Hoseok's comforter around his naked body when he saw that you left the door open. Luckily no one was around, but he still rushed up with the sheets to close the door, legs feeling a little wobbly. With the door securely locked, he rested his weight against it, letting Hoseok’s ruined sheets fall from his body into a heap on the floor, his hand coming up to run through his messy hair.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he groaned in disbelief, balling up the sheets and stuffing them into the small hamper by the closet, they barely fit but it didn’t matter. Taehyung felt lost and a little unsatisfied, he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel completely satisfied until he actually fucked you. All he had to do was say it, you were dangling it right in front of him and he was too tongue tied to tell you how he actually felt. It was like all vocabulary and sense of communication was wiped clean whenever you were within a certain radius of him.
He slid back into his clothes, grabbing the tissues Hoseok conveniently had next to his bed, and wiped the small residue that was still on his stomach before he put his shirt back on. When his heart stopped pounding and he thought he was decent, he exited the room. Taehyung was set on finding you and speaking to you like a normal human being, his mind now cleared after those orgasms, so he felt sort of confident that he’d be able to get out a coherent sentence without sounding like an insecure loser.
Jungkook spotted him as he emerged from the hallway, his bunny smile spreading across his face when he saw how disheveled his friend looked, and considering he had seen you exit from that same spot minutes prior he knew what had gone down.
“Hey buddy.” Jungkook cooed obnoxiously, hands coming up to squeeze Taehyung's cheek, his fingers rubbing off the leftover residue of your lipgloss from his skin. He was drunk, breath smelling like vodka and his eyes glazed over, the classic dopey Jungkook smile on his face. Taehyung swatted his hands away from him with a grimace but Jungkook just slid beside him, slinging his arm across his shoulders and dragging him to the kitchen to get even more alcohol.
“So you fucked her right?” Taehyung accepted the drink, taking a sip as his eyes searched the room for you just like they had earlier.
“Sure,” he responded, not wanting to tell his friend that although you were both naked on top of each other and you had forced two orgasms out of him, he had not in fact been able to slide his dick inside of you.
Jungkook was too drunk to comprehend that sure didn’t exactly mean yes so he whooped, throwing his arms in the air with a laugh, and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile at his younger friend.
“Have you seen her by the way?”
Jungkook thought back to when he spotted you leaving Hoseok’s room, you had a look of satisfaction on your face as you walked through the house and headed for the backyard. You emerged back out with one of your friends beside you and you both laughed as you made a swift exit out of Jungkook’s house entirely. It was pretty obvious you wouldn’t be coming back.
“She definitely left.”
Taehyung could feel his heart sink at that. He should’ve spoken to you when you were both alone in the room instead of lying there in his post orgasmic glow. Too late.
He slid his phone out and decided he had to text you. The black line flickered on his phone, taunting him, waiting for him to type anything out, but he was stuck. What was he supposed to say? Thanks for the orgasms with a stupid emoji tacked at the end?
Taehyung 1:48am : You left so fast, get home safe
That’s what he settled on, and his eyes stayed glued on the phone when he saw the notification that you read it, three dots popping up as you typed a response back.
Y/N 1:52am : Sorry friend needed to get home and I was her ride.
Y/N 1:52am : Think about me tonight yeah? Goodnight busboy.
Taehyung thought about you alright. He thought about you often, frequently replaying the events that had happened that night as his fist wrapped around his cock on those nights where he was beyond desperate to cum.
The both of you hadn’t spoken much since the night of Hoseok and Jungkook’s party, due to the fact that finals were approaching and as much as you enjoyed this game you had with him, you also knew you needed to pass the classes you had. Taehyung doesn’t fault you for that, he was on the same boat, and if you had continued to tease him on the bus or through text message while he was already on the verge of a mental breakdown, he wasn’t sure he could survive it.
So it came as no surprise that when the semester came and went, the communication was once again severed, no longer having the morning commute to share together as winter break started.
Taehyung still thought of you often, every time you uploaded something onto your social media he stared at it for a minute too long, fingers urging to send you a message and start a conversation; but considering everything that had transpired between you two had been purely sexual he wasn’t sure a ‘haha funny meme’ message was going to get him very far.
When the second week of break rolled around and Taehyung started to go out with his friends, you began to slip his mind, the small acceptance of whatever you two had going fizzling away from his thoughts. He wondered if you forgot about him already, maybe you were home visiting family and had your sights set on another person.
With that thought engraved in his mind he allowed himself to go out with Jimin and Namjoon on a Saturday night, the three of them being the few of his friends that lived in the city and weren’t going home to their family for the holidays. They stood by the bar of some club closer to Jimin’s apartment, deeper into the city, a place Jimin swore the hottest girls frequented and when Taehyung scoped the crowd he took notice that Jimin was right.
It only took two shots to loosen him up enough to ease onto the dance floor, and only a few more minutes until a pretty redhead spotted him and made her way over, her hands trailing up onto his shoulder as she moved her hips in time with his. He smirked down at her, her eyes gleaming up at him while her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, she’s definitely his usual type. The way she gripped onto him when he slid his thigh in between her legs, how she easily gave in to the way he kissed his way into her mouth, eager to let him have his way with her. It’s no shock that he found himself tucked away in a corner of the club, letting her hands roam his chest as she latched her lips onto his neck while he dipped his hands under the hem of her skirt to play with her covered slit. It’s messy and he’s the one leading the way, it's familiar for him, but he can’t stop the small craving inside of him for something else, something different.
She whimpered into his mouth, not at all shy about being out in the open, and he can feel his cock throbbing at the thought of another girl that isn’t you for the first time—and you must have a sixth sense—there's no other explanation for him besides that when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
The nameless redhead whined at the loss of contact when he pulled his hand back to grab his phone, but he shushed her with a kiss, telling her he needed a minute. And that's all the convincing she needed to continue sucking hickeys into his neck.
When his phone lit up and he saw your name on his lock screen he blanked, eyes roaming behind him when he looked back to check if maybe you were here and that's why you were texting him. But when he unlocked the phone and saw the message you sent, it was oh so obvious that you were definitely not at the club.
The revelation of the photo you had sent catches him so off guard, he almost drops his phone, the device slipping through his fingers until he reacts and slammed it against his chest so hard to not let it clatter to the ground. The action winded him, the sharp pain of his phone wacking his chest had him wincing and it got the girl's attention.
Leaning back as her curious eyes peeked up to stare at him, instead she found herself staring at his chest, her face oddly lit up. The realization settled within him now, noticing that he must have flipped the phone over when he caught it and she was now clearly looking at the photo of you naked. The jaw dropping nudes you had sent, showcasing your boobs with your fingers on your nipple, wet with your arousal; and the second photo of your pussy on display had taken his breath away, but all it got him was a glare and a shove to his chest from the red head, muttering out that he was a pig as she pushed her way back to her friends.
He gulped as he flipped the phone around and analyzed the photo, a deep groan leaving him, because god dammit he had just started to come to terms that whatever you had was old news. You were always keeping him on his toes, it was going to fuck with his heart and his health.
Taehyung turned around and squinted through the flashing lights to hopefully find his friends, spotting Namjoon with a drink in one hand, his other clutching onto a blonde as they danced together, and he made his way over to him.
“I’m gonna head out,” he mumbled into Namjoon’s ear, ignoring the confused glance he gave him. The clear translation being: what the hell.
“We just got here.”
Taehyung knew this but he can’t hang around here with the thrumming bass and dance with other girls when you had just sent him these fucking photos. “Yeah, I don’t feel so hot. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take an uber just let Jimin know.”
Namjoon could only nod, not really wanting to separate himself from the cute girl he had grown fond of, but he would be forcing Taehyung to come out with them again next week. He just watched as his friend slipped through the crowd of the club until he stepped out.
When the cold air hit him Taehyung gulped it down, hands pressing against his face as he sighed and walked towards the brickwall on the side of the club. He couldn’t do this anymore, and with the alcohol numbing his common sense he didn’t think twice as he pulled his phone back out and opened up your message again, rechecking that you had in fact sent him those photos. And when he saw that you had, obscene photos still filling up his screen, he clicked the phone button and gave you a call.
He swore you weren’t going to answer him as the ring droned out, but when it cut off and all he heard is silence, he held his breath, wide eyes focusing on the cars driving on the street in front of him.
“Hi.”
Oh fuck.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He spoke out so softly, pleading into the phone as he grabbed a chunk of his hair in between his fingers.
“Would you rather I didn’t?” you hummed, phone pressed against your shoulder and ear as you lazily trailed a finger up and down your stomach.
“No!” he shouted, wincing when he saw other club goers give him an odd look. “No, but why me? We haven’t even spoken lately.”
“We’re speaking right now.”
He remained silent, not knowing how to respond to you, but he keeps the phone pressed against his ear, the soft sound of you breathing being the only noise he hears—until there's a small moan. It makes his blood run cold, eyes slipping shut as he imagined why you had made that noise.
“What are you doing?” He finds himself getting the courage to ask, enjoying the small laugh you let out as you admitted to touching yourself, so nonchalant and carefree about the fact that you were still the leading cause to his blue balls.
Taehyung was slightly tipsy, his mind whirling as he pictured your fingers sinking into your pussy like they had that night, the pretty sounds you had let out as your mouth was stuffed full of his cock and he groans. “Do you really enjoy making me suffer?”
“Oh, are you suffering?” you cooed into the receiver. “You know all you have to do is say it.”
He knew this, oh god did he know this and right now he’s way too lost in it all to even feel the embarrassment or unsureness he usually does when he’s around you, so he asks—no begs—to finally fuck you. “Please, please let me fuck you Y/N.”
Your own eyes shut as he said this, fingers coming back up to rest on your stomach while you sat up in your bed with a smile on your face, focusing on the object beside your bed. “Okay, I’ll let you, if you let me try something on you first.”
Taehyung doesn’t even care to ask what the hell you meant by that, his mind already set on fucking you, and when he agreed without a second thought you text him your address, your head whirling at whats to come.
Taehyung didn’t even realize when he got to your place, running on autopilot fueled by pure hormones as he got into the taxi and managed to somehow get to your apartment in one piece.
His fingers were shaking slightly as he punched in the code you had given him, the main door buzzing as it unlocked, and it's then that it hits him, he's actually here. He had actually voiced his want for you and now he was here, fuck.
You sat patiently on your living room couch, a soft oversized shirt on as you waited for him to make his way up. You had buzzed him in about a minute ago, so when you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching in the hallway, you knew it was him.
The gentle knock against your door had you hopping up from your spot, slowly approaching it and pressing your eye against the peep hole to catch a glance at him. He stood a foot or so away, eyes squinting at his phone and back up at the number to make sure it was the right place, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of a neighbor.
Once you pulled open the door, you could tell he was nervous, hair a little messy on top of his head and face looking slightly flushed, but he stood up straight and gave you a smile.
“Hi,” he utters out, walking into your place when you stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. He half expected your apartment to look like a sex dungeon, dark and dim, covered in leather with a sex swing in the corner, but its surprisingly normal.
The soft pastel pinks and oranges greeting him is definitely not what he imagined but he likes it, his eyes locking onto a watermelon plushie with button eyes tucked into the edge of your couch.
“Taehyung, do you want some water?” you offer, wanting to ease him into this, but he just shakes his head, turning back around to face you and it's then that he realized you’re only wearing a shirt.
“If you’re drunk we don’t have to do this right now.”
Taehyung heard you loud and clear, but he can’t look away from your chest, every time he blinks he could see the image of your tits thanks to the picture you had graciously provided him with. It’s killing him because he knew you were currently bare underneath the thin shirt you have on.
To be honest he wasn’t drunk, barely even tipsy, the small amount of liquor he consumed tonight was way less than his normal amount. He felt woozy enough around you on a normal day, but he knew he definitely wasn’t too drunk to do what he had come here to do.
“No, I’m good. I swear.”
The determination in his tone was very clear but you still waited for him to stop blatantly staring at the way your nipples poked through the fabric of your shirt, until finally his gaze locked with yours, following behind you as you led the way to your bedroom.
When he entered your room his eyes were drawn to your bed, fluffy and inviting, draped in a soft peach duvet with light pillows, but knowing the absolutely filthy things you most likely did on it killed the small sense of innocence he initially felt. Especially when he spots the hitachi wand resting pretty at the edge of the bed.
You were staring at his profile when he spotted it and you saw the way he swallowed, wide eyes bulging out as he analyzed the toy. Was this what you had been using when you answered his phone call? He wasn’t sure, he hadn’t heard anything in the background...maybe it was one of those fancy zero noise ones.
When he heard you giggle he snapped out of it, turning to face you with curious eyes.
“Have you never seen one?” Taehyung remained silent as he thought, but it's pretty clear he hadn’t. There was never time for sex toys with one night stands in random houses, sure he had seen them in porn but real life felt different. He wished he had, he didn’t want to use this on you and fumble around and make a bigger fool of himself.
“I take it you’ve never used one then?” you ask again as you walk over to it, picking it up gently in your hands and approaching Taehyung thanks to the fact that it was wireless.
He could only shake his head, staring at it in your grasp as your fingers glided over the plastic handle, your thumb flicking it on and smiling when the low hum filled the room. It's on the lowest setting but that didn’t stop you from beginning to get excited.
“Would you let me try this on you Taehyung?”
He looked utterly confused by your question, not at all expecting to be on the receiving end of this. What did you mean by that?
“You mean like shove it up my ass?” He could see you trying not to laugh at him, biting your lip as you shook your head.
“No, it's not a dildo Tae. Use it here.” You reached out until it was gently pressed against his crotch, the wand buzzing over his jeans. He let out a grunt at the feeling, head dropping down to stare at the white silicone head weakly vibrating on him, taking a moment to get over the initial shock. He chalked it up to being slightly under the influence, but he really wanted you to turn it up.
It was clear to see how mesmerized he was by the device so you flicked it up a level, relishing in the small gasp he let out as his jaw dropped. It was barely a flutter of pleasure, but something about it excited him, had him craving more so he looked up at you, glassy eyes and all.
“You can do whatever you want to me.” He felt no shame when he told you that, groaning once more when you applied a hint of pressure against him.
The way your body reacted to his words was pure instinct, him admitting to letting you do as you please unhinged you. He saw it in the way you bit your lip, your eyes roaming his face until they dragged down his body, landing on his now half hard cock with the vibrating head of the wand still pressing against it.
“Fuck, please,” he begged, and when you retract the wand he almost takes it back. That is, until you were pulling him in, one hand tugging at his shirt until he's flushed against you, your lips meeting his in a frenzy, swallowing the moan he let out into the kiss. His hands stayed at his sides, not sure if he was allowed to touch you again considering you had told him not to last time, and you smirked when you realized it. Taehyung knew he would only be able to touch you if he deserved it, your words being engraved in his brain, and he was planning on earning that tonight.
“Good boy, you remembered.” you whispered out, lips brushing against his as you spoke. His eyes remained shut, the only indication that he heard being the small nod he gave you. Your hand inched up from the grasp you had in his shirt until you’re cupping his cheek gently.
“You see what happens when you’re good?” You kissed him again, pulling back once he started to press harder into you. “You get rewarded.” His breath shuddered against your face at the promise of being rewarded, and you smiled while reaching down to grab his hand and gently tugged him closer towards your bed, your right hand still holding the wand loosely by your side as he followed along.
“Do you want me–“ he paused to take a breath when you turned back around to face him. “Do you want me to strip?” His voice sounded so soft, unsure if asking you was the right thing to do, but him asking you this showed you that you’d managed to create another sliver in his outer shell. One step closer to cracking him.
You gave him another gentle kiss, nodding as you stepped back from him, eyes trained on his body while he began to tug at the black shirt he had tucked into his jeans, the material slowly sliding off his body and revealing his tan skin.
He didn’t feel uneasy at your staring this time around, being able to tell you’re clearly enjoying the view of him slowly undressing, your eyes focusing on his cock as it sprung out when he slid out of his briefs. Your hand clutched onto the wand a little tighter, fingers hovering over the power button with newfound enthusiasm, eager to make him squirm at the new sensation. And when he took it upon himself to settle onto your bed without you having to ask, you withheld the urge to clap in excitement.
Taehyung waited with baited breath when you kneeled onto the bed, shuffling your way up his body and setting the toy by his side, his body flinching slightly when the cool plastic touched his skin as it rolled on the bed. Resting your weight on your left hand, settled by his shoulder while your right hand softly cupped his cheek as you inched closer. His eyes looked at your lips before looking back down to his own hands, an unspoken question hanging off his tongue.
“My hands?” Is all he managed to get out, the rest of the question dying when he made eye contact but you only raised your brows up, making him realize he needed to be more specific. “Do you want them grabbing the headboard again?”
Leaning forward to kiss him once more, you smirked, witnessing how such a simple question could embarrass him so much due to him being in a different position than he was used to. “Ideally I’d want them cuffed and behind your back.” He shut his eyes at your words, cock throbbing as he pictured himself the way you wanted him. “But not today. Just keep them on the bed. Can you do that?”
Taehyung felt your lips press against his again and he nodded. “Y-yeah, yeah I can.”
He could feel you hum against his skin, the hand that was cupping his cheek beginning to trail down his chest, passing his navel until you reached his dick, fingers wrapping around him and beginning to slide your palm up and down. “Good.”
He sighed into your mouth as your hands squeezed around the base of his cock, twisting as it came up in a slow motion, wanting to ease him into the pleasure of it so as to not scare him when you grab the wand again. It only took a few minutes until he’s kissing you more relaxed, body sagging into the bed as he grunt softly into your mouth whenever you focused on his swollen tip; and that's when you reached over to your bedside table, grabbing the bottle of lube you had with your lips still attached to him.
They separate with a light smack, and you rest back onto his thighs, taking a moment to take him in, the way he’s laid out on your bed, chest heaving slightly while his weeping dick sat against his stomach. He watched you intently as you uncapped the lube you have, dropping a generous amount into your palm and wrapping it around his cock again. Taehyung hissed at the cool sensation, stomach tensing when you began a fluid motion only set on spreading the liquid, but he still groaned because he knew what was next.
You tried not to let the overt excitement show on your face when you reached over and grabbed the wand once more, thumb flicking it on to the lowest setting and pressing it against his thigh first, observing the way he jumped slightly at the sensation. “I know you’ve never used this before,” you start, trailing the vibrating head up onto his stomach and back down to his other thigh, dipping down slightly towards the center but staying off his cock. “So, you need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable at any moment okay?”
His thighs are tensing up already, getting desperate to feel something, anything. “Like a safe word?”
“Sure,” you hummed, staring back at his face and seeing the distraught look on it. He wasn’t sure why the idea of a safe word sent his mind into a flurry, he had never used one and having to think of one that he’d remember seemed almost impossible at the moment. “Or we can make it easy. You know traffic lights?”
He nodded. “Great. If you say green everything's going good, yellow is if you start to feel uncomfortable or need me to slow down, red is if you need me to stop completely. You say these at any time.”
You’re continuing to tease him as you explained this and Taehyung rested his head back, not wanting to see you as you clearly avoided giving his dick any attention.
“Okay, I got it. Green,” he groaned out, and you just chuckled, finally pressing the head of the vibrator against his cock. The low vibrations started at the base and his stomach tensed at the feeling, a tiny whine escaping him, hands having to resort to clutching your sheets again to stop himself from grabbing you and forcing you to switch it up a level.
The head of the vibrator bent slightly as you applied more pressure, thumb flicking it up two levels and enjoying the way he cursed, his head lifting back up to stare in awe as you slowly dragged it up an inch before coming back down, passing it right over his balls briefly.
“Oh shit,” he keened, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, not being able to thrust up into it because you were still resting on his thighs.
“Aren’t you glad you told me yes?” you asked teasingly, sliding it up until it was nuzzled right against his frenulum before kicking it up another two levels. His reaction had you dripping against his thighs, arm muscles taut from how hard he’s grabbing the duvet, stomach caving in as he moaned out unabashedly.
“Fuck,” he gasped, “yes, I am.” Taehyung had no idea something like this could feel so good, he was so accustomed to hearing women talking about vibrators and he thought it was a load of shit. Clearly he had been very, very wrong.
Even though you’re focusing it on the underside of his tip, slowly raising the levels up until he’s squirming, he felt like his whole lower body was vibrating. The telltale signs of his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling only increasing when your fingers wrap around his shaft and you hold the vibrator against his swollen tip. The fluttering feeling of pressure building up becoming more consistent, his breath leaving him in huffs as he tried to force it away.
You can tell by the way his body started to tense up, your finger turning it up another level to push him further. “Are you gonna cum already? I thought you wanted to fuck me?”
He whined loudly, desperately trying to sink his hips into the bed to ease the pressure but your hands followed his movements, his head whipping to the side as he scrunched his face up. “Fuck, I do–I do want to fuck you, god–“ he gasped out when you started to circle the head of the toy around his tip, the rolling pleasure becoming too much. “Unghh, please let me f-fuck you.”
His stomach began to shudder more aggressively, hips wiggling around and you smirked down at him, his face finally turning back up to stare at the ceiling, his brows pulled together tightly with unshed tears prickling his waterline. “Hold it Taehyung.”
He nearly sobbed at your demand, taking in a deep breath as he shut his eyes once more, forcing himself to try to tune out his nearing release. His heart feels tight in his chest, blood thrumming so loud in his head, eyes burning as the tears finally spill over. But it’s too late, the tingling feeling had started to spread throughout his body and he knew he was a few seconds away from blowing his load.
Taehyung let out a pained moan. “Fuck I can’t, y-yellow, yellow!” You let go of his cock, the vibrator lowering in intensity before easing off and going back to trail on his stomach and thighs as his close release faded away, letting him whimper as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry.”
After a moment you switched the toy off entirely and set it aside on the bed, soft hands running along his skin to help calm him down, reaching up to gently wipe away his fallen tears. “Don’t be sorry, you did good.”
He sighed in relief, glad that he hadn’t ruined it by not being able to hold off his orgasm, he tried the best he could but the only way he wanted to cum was after he sank into you.
You gave him another minute to come down, easing off of his thighs to tug your shirt off of your body, the material landing in a heap on the floor and that grabbed Taehyung's attention. He looked at your body with desire, wanting to reach out and grab you, kneading your flesh as he cupped your tits and ass, but he's done so well so far so he holds himself back. The only daring touch he allowed is his thumbs gently rubbing against your knees as they rest on either side of his thighs.
You let the touch slide as you bent forward and kissed him, reaching over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. Leaning back from him, you tear it open with your teeth and slowly ease it onto his throbbing cock, hearing him groan when your hands add a bit of pressure at his base once it's fully rolled on.
“You okay?” you ask softly. He looked dazed out, no longer tipsy from his earlier adventure but his mind was working on overdrive, the abundance of fantasies he’s had of you are coming to fruition. He was finally going to know what it felt like to actually fuck you, and he was scared his excitement would make him cum a minute in, especially after he had forced his last orgasm away.
“Yeah, just–“ he swallowed harshly, letting his head fall back into the plush pillows. “Give me a minute please.” You smirked at the slightly pained expression on his face, but you hummed anyways, letting his dick lay back above his stomach as you leaned forward and opted for kissing him softly, fingers slowly trailing through his hair to help calm him down.
Taehyung shivered as your nails gently scraped down until you reached his neck, his hips beginning to rut up against you, clearly being ready to continue.
“Please,” he starts again, groaning as you tugged his lower lip between your teeth, letting it snap back gently. “Let me fuck you. I’ve been good right?” He still felt his face flush at his own words but a strange sense of pleasure also coursed through him when you nodded in response.
Your hand reached down between your bodies, grabbing his cock to tease around your entrance. “Yes Tae, you’ve been very good.” He held his breath as you started to ease down onto him, the both of you groaning at the pleasant stretch of your walls, his jaw dropping while he kept his eyes glued at the sight of his thick cock parting your lips.
“Holy shit,” he gasped out when you fully sank onto him, giving him a moment as you rested your hands on his chest, biting your lip at how full you felt.
Kim Taehyung’s dick lived up to its name, long and girthy with the prettiest veins running along the underside of it, the slightest curve of it allowing it to gently nudge along the sweet patch inside of you. It filled you up perfectly, leaving you stunned above him as you adjusted to his size.
When his breathing evened out, you peeked a glance at him, his forehead slightly damp from the earlier teasing. He looked so utterly fucked out and desperate and it urged you on; you were determined to crack him, show him how great this could be, and so far he seemed more than willing to let go of control.
As you start a slow rhythm, you wished you could bind his wrists behind his back, strapped into a chair, wrapped up in the pretty red rope you used to use on Jungkook, or even drape your favorite blindfold over his eyes like you used to with Hwasa; but you didn’t want to push him further, you were letting him dip his toe into this.
Taehyung was so used to being in control, so used to being the one in charge of giving for himself, and when he had heard the way you spoke to him: praising him for behaving, all giggly and soft after you had made his mind blank from an orgasm, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to his normal.
His thumb was still grazing your knees, every time he flicked them upward on your skin he could feel your muscles tense as you lift yourself off of him and snap back down, the sound of your skin slapping together filling up the room. They mixed in with your soft moans, nearly concealing how affected you were by this, hiding the small cries of pleasure felt from the tip of his cock nudging the sweetest spots deep within you.
Taehyung could feel his blood buzzing in his ear, the feeling of being buried inside of you going beyond what he ever thought, his heart continuing to pound when he felt you tighten around his length.
“Is this worth you leaving whoever you were with earlier tonight?”
Your words caught him off guard for a moment, having to clear the heady feeling in his brain, and he took a moment to wonder how you knew he was with someone, but then your fingers came to prod at the hickeys littering his neck.
Half moons marked his skin as your nails came down to his chest, lightly digging into his skin and he hissed, hips thrusting up slightly. “Shit, I–“ he whined when you began to grind against him, slow rocks of your hips letting him feel the glide of your walls against his cock. ��Yes, so worth it.”
You let yourself lean more against his chest, tits pressed along his skin as you brought your face closer. “Do you think she would’ve been able to make you feel this good?”
He doesn’t even have to think about it, immediately shaking his head. “No—fuck, just you.”
You pressed a kiss directly underneath one of the hickeys, leaning back again and cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you resumed bouncing on top of him. Sinful slaps of your skin connecting fill up the room like it belonged there, arousal gushing out of you when he whimpers at the visual of you riding him.
The whiny pleas he let out proved he’s edging close to his release again, making a heat pool in your gut, and he shocks you when he requests for you to place your hands around his throat. He had always been interested in choking, albeit he always imagined he’d be the one with his hands wrapped around someone but this felt right, your thumb and middle finger pressing into his carotid artery had all the stars aligning in his eyes.
Your eyes widened at his reaction, not expecting him to be bold enough to ask for this considering it took him this long to tell you he wanted to fuck you, but you’d take it. You’d take his half lidded gaze as you applied pressure on his neck, his stomach caving in slightly everytime you slid back down on his length, your walls squeezing him deliciously as he neared his end; you’d take all of it. .
He could feel his mind going hazy, drifting up as every nerve in him tingled, hyper fixated on the repeated raunchy, wet sound of you riding him. Taking note of his floaty appearance, you sped up your pace, tightening up around him as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. “You feel so good Taehyung, cum for me.”
He shivered slightly at your words, your hands squeezing a little tighter against his neck, and suddenly he's cumming. His body was set alight as the feeling caught him by surprise, eyes bulging out and a choked gasp leaving his mouth when you released his throat.
He let out a loud moan of your name, rutting his hips up into you as his dick twitched and filled up the condom, spine sparking with pleasure as you continued to rut against him. “Oh fuck,” he cried out, his hand coming up to tangle into his hair while the small after shocks of his orgasm hit him.
When you reached over to grab the forgotten hitachi wand, his mind blanks, seeing you continuing to grind against his still hard dick as you pressed the head of the wand against your clit had him at a loss.
Fuck you’re hot.
When you smiled down at him, your mouth dropping open slightly when you found the sweet spot, he realized he uttered that out loud. Another groan of his spilled out again when he felt the vibrations against his own cock from how high you had the settings.
You give up on fucking him, letting his cock stay nuzzled deep inside of you as you pressed one hand against his ribs while you hunched over and moaned. The intensity of the vibrator had your whole body trembling, buzzing directly against your swollen clit with precision, making your velvety walls pulse around his sensitive cock.
The feeling of your orgasm came on strongly, your hand pressing the toy harder against you, and Taehyung felt like he could cum again as you tightened your walls around him, the sensation making him softly rut up into you.
“Oh god, fuck Taehyung,” you gasped out, throwing your head back as your orgasm finally hit you. All Taehyung could do was stare at you in a daze as you came undone, small whimpers leaving your lips as your hips twitched, chasing the pleasure until you were sighing and shutting off the toy, body still trembling from the aftershocks.
When you tossed it aside you stayed sat on him, breath heaving as you hunched over him slightly. His hands that were on your knees fully came up onto your thighs to gently massage them, wanting to comfort you, the mutual understanding that he was allowed to touch you after sex being passed between you.
After a minute, you slowly eases yourself off of his soft length, pulling off the condom and tossing it into the bin beside the bed.
Taehyung was entirely spent. Tonight had felt like the longest night of his life, and his eyes were drifting shut when he felt you straddle him again, your arms resting on his chest as you stared up at his sleepy form.
His eye cracked open and he grinned at you when he saw the look on your face; it was the sweet smile you wore when you were up to no good. The fingers on your left hand gently spelled your name on his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, your chin rested on top of your arm and you laughed when you saw his eyebrow raise up in question.
“What?” he asked. You were clearly out of the mood that made you want to bind and tease Taehyung until he was crying, wanting to reassure him and make sure he was comfortable after doing things you knew he wasn’t used to with your soft touches.
You hummed softly as you stared into his eyes. “Kim Taehyung is into choking huh?”
His face flushes immediately as he replays his request in his mind, and you pat his chest to get him to stare at you, a small frown on your face at his clear embarrassment. “Hey, it wasn’t a tease. It’s hot.”
Taehyung raised both brows now, staring at you like you had said something absolutely foreign to him. Tonight was a night of firsts and realizations, who knew Taehyung loved the feeling of a vibrator on his cock, and who knew he had a kink for your hands around his throat. “Really?”
“Oh yeah,” you mused, lifting up slightly to inch closer to his face. “Seeing you squirming while I choked you was the hottest thing.”
He could only stare at you, the gears in his head turning as he thought of what just happened. He never imagined he’d be into giving someone control like that. Taehyung knew it was minuscule, but this was all new to him and he loved it already, his brain wondering how much further you could take it.
“You know, I’m kinda into it.” He looked away from you as he said this, still not confident in admitting it and he knew it was silly, especially when he could see how much hearing these words lit your face up.
Your eyes shut when he admitted to this; it always felt like finding gold when you got a man to confess to enjoying this. So many men were always afraid to admit to liking how it felt when a girl took control over them, no matter how subtle, and Taehyung was someone you thought would be a little harder to break down.
“Are you?”
He hummed, his hands finally coming up higher to touch you and his warm grip caught you off guard. But he takes his time as he trails his fingers up and down your sides, gliding across your back, sliding them into your hair and tugging you closer until he’s kissing you, the first time he’s ever taken control of any situation.
He relished in the small gasp you let out as he licked the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping in and massaging against yours slowly for a brief moment until he’s pulling back. Taehyung realized that this is the longest conversation you two have had in person, and the first one where he didn’t feel like a babbling idiot.
“Is there more we can try next time?” he wondered softly, nudging your noses together and kissing you again briefly.
Your mind was already picturing how he’d look tied up, cock swollen and dripping with a cockring sat snuggly around his base, maybe a thick collar around his neck. You could ease him into trying out some of the floggers you have, or tempt him into wax play, maybe ice cubes if he was wary of the wax. So many ideas that had you squirming on top of him with anticipation, and when he saw that look on your face he found himself smiling with you.
“Oh, there's so much Taehyung. You just have to tell me what you’re comfortable with.” Your fingers are raking through his own hair now as he leaned into the touch. “Can you do that?”
When your fingers tugged the strands, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Pressing your lips against his again, he feels you smirk against his skin, the small sharpness of your teeth sinking into his lip making him groan. “Good boy.”
#ficswithluv#btswritingcafe#heartsforbts#btsghostie#bangtansorciere#vantaenet#taehyung smut#kim taehyung#taehyung#bts smut#bts fics#taehyung scenarios
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cookies and cream - lee jeno
reader x jeno
genre: smut, strangers to fuck buddies, humor if you squint hard enough
word count: 4k-ish
warnings: recklessness (she met with a stranger online, don’t do it kids) excessive lying, 18+ scenes that includes: oral (f receiving) face riding, soft dom!jeno?
This is merely a work of fiction and is not meant to hurt the image of Jeno and NCT. Again, don’t be as reckless as OP. This was just a fantasy of mine that I’ve been dying to get out of my system.
Holy fuck.
That's the only word that you've managed to utter when you decided to check your messages that morning.
You got bored in the middle of the class and decided to sneak a peek on your phone to pass the time. The class is recorded anyways so you can always just go back to the parts of the lessons that you've missed.
But holy fuck.
You never expected to see THAT so early in the morning.
"Miss Y/N?"
You snapped back to reality and stopped malfunctioning for a second when somebody called your name. Everyone including your professor remained quiet and all eyes are on you.
"Oh. Sir what’s the question again?"
You answered nervously as you tried to review your notes and backtrack on what he is discussing a few moments ago.
"I see that you're distracted in the middle of my class again. Mind sharing what you're occupied with?"
"Uhm. I was watching KPOP fancams, sir."
"Fancams won't get you into law school, Miss Y/N. Phones off please."
You tucked your phone back to your pocket and never picked it up again since. The professor started blabbering again but no information is being retained on your head. It stayed that way at your other classes.
You wished you were looking at some KPOP fancams earlier. You’ve watched fancams at class before and got away with it unscathed.
Oh no. It was a goddamn dick pic.
A good one, too.
It was from a guy that you met in a kink site a few days ago. You created the account out of boredom and expected nothing to come out from it. It’s all the flirting and sexting without all the unnecessary commitment
It only took you a few minutes to set up an account. For some privacy, you made a random birthdate and a random nickname, because like hell would you share your real information to these people. You also picked a racy picture of a lady that looked a bit like you and passed it off as your own.
Within minutes, your inbox is flooded with messages. Most of them, however, are from men who are old enough to be your father.
Well, you were bored, so you entertained everyone and then went on back to your boring, vanilla life. A few political history and theory books later, you went back to see which ones messaged you on the site.
And that's where you've met him.
The most gorgeous piece of meat alive.
He seems like a nice guy. He introduced himself as LJ and your age aren’t that far off from each other. LJ is the only one who actually engaged in conversation besides "want to fuck?" or "are you horny?"
As soon as you started messaging back and forth, you scrolled on his profile to see what he looks like. The only thing is, his profile looked a whole lot like those high fashion male underwear photoshoots.
It was an array topless pictures (presumably his, you just can’t be bothered to check if it is actually his). It featured his sculpted abs and biceps, cropped up all the way to his full lips. Despite not seeing his whole face, you knew very well that he’s a hunk. To say you were intrigued is an understatement.
Since then, you've been talking back and forth through Snapchat (your secret one because you're not stupid) and sent him actual pictures of yourself, completely omitting the face. You took one from your bed, your bathtub, and probably every part of your house that you felt is sexy enough to be included on the pics.
You can't tell him if it's him or the repressed sexual urges finally manifesting itself after more than a year of not getting laid, but every text to and from him made your heart race. It was something that you looked forward to every hour everyday.
Hours went by that you totally forgot leaving him on read. You climbed up to your bed to rest your back to the headboard and opened your unread messages.
You: Hey svlr. School stuff.
He opened the chat and started typing right away.
LJ: Oh good. I thought I did something wrong to upset you.
You: Not at all. I loved the pic by the way. It literally knocked my socks off.
LJ: Just the socks?
You: You can take the rest of it off yourself ;)
You scoffed. The flirty banter has always been there ever since you started talking but nothing really came out of it.
LJ: If only I could :(
You: I know. Covid’s a bitch.
You set your phone aside for a second to go to the bathroom. On your way, you picked up some snacks at the fridge and sat back down to your bed, only to find your phone blowing up.
LJ: If you're down maybe we could meet
LJ: It's totally fine if you don't want to
LJ: I just made it weird, didn't I?
LJ: I'm so sorry I brought it up in the first place
LJ: I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable
LJ: Hello?
LJ: I'm really sorry
You: Chill. I'm right here
You: I just went to the bathroom
LJ: Oh
You: I'd be lying if I said I don't want to meet you as well
You: Well... I wouldn't write off the idea
You: But with the Covid
LJ: Thoughts?
You: I don't think it's a great idea
The screen says Seen right at the bottom but it took him a couple more minutes before finally replying.
LJ: I understand
LJ: But in case you change your mind, I'll leave the time and place up to you
LJ: I’ll take care of the rest
LJ: Deal?
You: I'll sleep on it.
You: Speaking of sleep, I gotta go. Morning class.
LJ: Okay. I guess this is good night then
You didn't, in fact, talk to him the day after.
You'd be lying if you said that you didn't want to see him and his abs in real life. But as someone who overthinks a lot, you just can't shake off the risk.
You: Good night. Talk to you tomorrow.
What if he's not really the guy in the pics? Or he’s psycho in real life? What if he's infected the virus?
You sighed.
Why must some global pandemic ruin your sex life?
You waited until the end of the day before you finally replied to LJ. The last thing that he texted was a brief good morning from earlier in the day and nothing else. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy, totally not worth ghosting, and you actually liked talking to him as a friend that you can share your sentiments with.
With your guilt finally eating you up, you took a break from your assigned readings and sat back at your bed to rest for the day. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a minute, thinking of something to say to him. It took you a few tries before finally hitting the send button.
You: So, I thought about it
LJ: And?
You: I need to know I can trust you
LJ: Okay. How?
You: I don’t know. Send me a proof that you’re real. Get tested?
You: Is that fine with you?
Within a split second, he sent his reply.
He actually did it.
You couldn’t believe it but he actually did it.
LJ: Consider it done.
He got tested for physical, including the virus test, and passed with flying colors. He even sent you a vid of him inside a medical clinic.
He just sent the uncensored results this morning where you can clearly see his real name.
Lee Jeno.
LJ.
Seems legit.
Well, the uncreative nickname shouldn’t matter now because the results meant only one thing.
You’re gonna have to push through with your promise.
You got ready around noon that day. You can’t remember the last time that you actually got ready to meet someone that’s not a delivery guy or a relative passing on something to your family.
As someone who overthinks a lot, you actually got everything covered. You picked a place near a restaurant to eat. The police station is just a few blocks away just in case something happens, and right in front of a library…
“Where’re are you off to?”
You raised your backpack to show to your mother.
“I’m off to the library. I needed to get these renewed. Maybe pick up a novel or two.”
She looks at you from head to toe, eyeing that incredibly loose hoodie, faded denim jeans, some worn out sneakers that looked like it’s supposed to be thrown away years ago and a medical mask that covers about ¾ of your bare face. It’s just your usual attire whenever you go out for errands.
She just nodded and went back to watching her favorite soap opera.
“It’s nice that you’re out of your room for once. Take some cookies from the kitchen so you’ll have something to eat in case you get hungry.”
… as an alibi to get away from your strict parents.
As soon as you left the door and made sure that you’re out of sight, you found the nearest public toilet and grabbed a whole other outfit from your backpack. The hoodie is replaced by a white, ruffled see-through blouse and you ditched the jeans for a tight skirt that’s at least four inches above your knees. You tousled your hair a little bit and put on some powder and tiny hint of lipstick before putting your facemask back on again.
It’s been a while since you’ve done an elaborate scheme like this. Your skills got a little bit rusty, but they always work.
Sometimes you wonder if you’re really meant to be lawyer or a criminal instead.
You stepped out of the toilet and blended right back into society.
Now all you have to do is find wherever the hell LJ is.
Jeno sat anxiously as he waited for you right inside the café. He’s on his fourth cup of coffee but it didn’t do anything to calm his nerves down (geez I wonder why).
You: I’m almost at the café.
He’s been staring at his phone the whole time. Once he received your message, which is a pic of you in the bathroom after the outfit change, he almost choked on his drink.
This message sent him on a panic as he turned his camera on to see how he looked. He did some minor adjustments to his hair and he wiped off his eyeglasses clean with the sleeves of his hoodie (which did nothing for him by the way) and then casually sat down and played it off cool like he hasn’t been waiting for you for over an hour.
On your perspective, you walked inside the café and looked around for LJ. Fortunately, there was only guy inside the café, twiddling with his phone on his hands and as he kept on peeking through the glass windows as if he’s looking for someone.
From afar, he actually looked really cute. His appearance, a shy, nerdy dude with glasses, looked way off from the fuckboy image that you expected him to have in reference to the messages that you’ve been getting from him.
It’s always the quiet ones that are kinky. You should know, you are one.
You walked over to his table and tapped his shoulders to get his attention.
He froze for a moment before he finally managed to turn around and face you.
“You’re actually here.”
“I know. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
tap tap tap tap
The room is so quiet that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heels tapping against the tiled floor. You can say that that is one of your observable annoying habits tapping your foot on the floor when you're a nervous wreck.
Sighing in retaliation, you removed your hoodie, fanning yourself as you tried to relax and get comfy on the hotel couch (which should be comfortable enough since you paid a shit ton of money on that room), switching the TV on to get your mind off of things. The lackluster array of shitty sitcoms didn’t distract you at all, but it instead reminded you of the reasons why you’re in that room in the first place.
Having nothing to do to pass the time, you paced back and forth in the room, finally sitting down once you realized that it looks way worse than you just tapping your foot. You folded your arms right across your chest, looking at the watch from time to time but the hands of the clock seem to be moving slower the more you stare at it.
Quarantine started almost a year ago and it's been very hard for you. Sexually. It's been almost a year since you've been touched by a man and you’re more than ready to jump on anyone’s dick at any this point,
Too bad that that dick is taking his sweet time in the bathroom.
tap tap tap tap
Your foot found its rhythm once again, only this time, you’re not nervous anymore. Your patience is wearing thin.
As if summoned by the constant tapping, the guy comes out of the bathroom, just casually drying himself while wearing nothing but the towel dangerously hanging on his waist and a boyish smile on his lips.
No biggie.
"Hey."
Suddenly, you’re not tapping anymore.
Head empty, just thoughts of a hot guy patting down a towel all over his toned body.
“I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long.”
He spoke, tossing aside the towel on his hands on the sofa, finally giving you a full view of him and all his glory.
You must admit, you’re skeptical at first. The guy that’s been sending you faceless thirst traps just days ago, telling you how he’d fuck you senseless looked a lot different from the guy who entered the hotel room just a moment ago.
He came in wearing those black oversized hoodies that did a great job in hiding his best features. His hair was a bit long for your taste, covering half of his face while the face mask hid the other.
But this man right here in front you, he’s Adonis.
You unconsciously bit your lower lip, earning a chuckle from the guy.
“I’m guessing that you’d like to start now?”
You nodded, the tension and awkwardness rendering you unable to speak.
He smiles as he takes the remote from you, turning off the television because the main show is about to start.
You started to tense up again, eyes wide as you realized that he’s now right beside you, wrapping his arms around you as soon as he sat down. He leans over, soft lips coming into contact with your exposed neck and shoulders, landing small pecks all over.
You sat there breathless as he slowly ran his fingers to the side of your thighs, tracing circles at it while giving small, reassuring kisses on your neck and shoulders. It’s as if he’s asking you for your consent, waiting for you to open up to him before he makes a move.
He got his answer when you turned around to face him, running your fingers into his cheeks before cupping his face, your lips finally touching his. He moved in the same pace as earlier, slow and calculating. You got a bit impatient once again, biting his lower lips gently to let him know that he can do more.
He grabbed you by the waist and successfully placed you on top of him. The kiss got even more sloppy as you ran your hands through nape, then into his soft locks. His hands travelled once again, finger running through legs again, stopping as soon as he reached the hem of your skirt, flipping it up to reveal the thin lace material that barely covered your core. You took that as initiative to remove the towel on his waist and grinded against his growing member, the friction and heat enough to earn a groan out of him.
He held your waist once again, firmly this time, halting your movement completely.
You broke away from the kiss, staring him in the eyes to read his face.
“Something wrong?”
“Hold tight.”
You were about to ask about what hold tight mean, but your arms cling unto him involuntarily as he lifts the both of you out of the sofa.
Jeno laid you gently in the bed, making sure not to break eye contact as he does so. He looked like he's about to eat you alive, which is enough to send flush to your cheeks.
“I would’ve loved to bend you over that sofa, but I think it’s just proper that our first time will be on the bed.”
"God. You're beautiful."
He then ran his fingers towards the thin fabric of your blouse, feeling every part of your torso like he's memorizing every detail of it. His hands then travelled in your chest, squeezing the swell of your breasts on each hand, fingers shaking as he does so. It felt like an artist admiring his delicate work of art.
He situated himself between your legs, taking a moment to admire you first before doing anything else.
He started to run his hand on your cleavage and stopped on the uppermost button of your blouse, taking his time to remove all of them and placing a kisses at the exposed skin. After all of the buttons are taken care of, you lifted your body up and slid off the fabric. Your black lacy bra finally made its appearance. You took the liberty of taking that off too, as slow and as you possibly can.
Jeno just stared at your body in awe, breathing heavily as his eyes scanned your naked glory.
"Gorgeous."
He said under this breath before leaning down to claim your lips once again. You're turned on by how much attention he's giving your body now. You're usually loud in bed but his gestures are making you bashful. You've never felt this beautiful before.
You can feel his hands trembling as it travels all over your body, his kisses getting even more needy. There was moans of satisfaction every time he would lick your lips. Jeno was kissing you like you were oxygen and he needed to breath.
His hands travelled south, running across your thigh and your now aching core. You're about to remove your skirt and underwear but he stopped your hands midway.
"Keep it."
He took your hands away from your skirt and placed them just above your head.
"Just sit there and relax baby. Let me treat you."
You did just like he told you and gave him full control of your body.
"Good girl."
His lips brushed your ears, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful you are under him. His kisses then went down to your neck, using his tongue and teeth, marking everything he can get his mouth on with his saliva. Meanwhile, his hands finally touched you down there, massaging your still clothed wetness.
His middle and index finger felt your slit, moving it in swift motion in search for your clit.
"Oh my god. That's it."
You gasped as his fingers finally hit the right spot, tossing your head back as his fingers made circles at your bundle or nerves.
You opened your legs more, leaning on your arms on your back, head tossed back and eyes closed as you feel your impending orgasm.
He dipped his hand inside your underwear and collected some of your essence with his fingers. The mental picture of him licking his fingers deliciously is enough to get you off for weeks.
It didn't take long before he took your panties off and his ducked his head down. He opened your legs once again and licked one long stripe on your core, making sure to taste all of you. You sat there and watch as he hungrily takes all of you in his mouth, acting like your pussy is a full course meal and he's been starving for years.
Within moments, you've become a moaning, toe curled mess. You ran your fingers to his blonde hair, guiding him on how to move his tongue and fingers on you. At one point, he bit some of your sensitive skin, making you scream a string of curses under your breath.
"Stop stop stop."
You grab a fistful of his hair and he paused from what he was doing. You pushed him gently away from you, leaving him staring at you confusedly. The confusion didn't last long when you flipped your current position, you're now on top.
"Can I ride your face?"
At this point, you're bold and horny enough to use your words and ask him. He just nodded, sliding himself from underneath you and went back to eating you like a champ. You grabbed his hands and placed them across your chest, squeezing your breasts to send him a message. He was quick to pick up and followed suit, pinching your nipples right in between fingers while your ride his face to orgasm.
"Shit. I'm coming..."
You writhed from above him as you come undone. Your body felt cold all over. Your eyes are ringing, feeling dizzy as you almost passed out while you bucked your hips a few more times to milk your release.
You didn’t have time to recover when you heard your phone ringing from outside. Your legs felt a little shaky and you almost tumbled and hit your head in the wall if Jeno didn’t help you get up. You sat down on the floor, butt-ass naked as you frantically searched for your phone from under all of your stuff before you finally pressed the answer button.
“Yes mom?”
“Where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you at the library. He’s picking you up on your way home.”
You buried your head on the couch to shake off the buzzing feeling on your head. You placed a pillow on your body while you searched for your discarded clothes all over the hotel room.
“Oh yeah. I went to the café and got something to eat. Tell Dad I’ll meet him outside the library.”
“Okay sweetie. Can you pick up some groceries on your way back? I’ll text you the list.”
“Yeah mom. Bye.”
You breathe a sigh of relief as you started putting on the outfit that you wore when you left home.
“Where are you going?”
Jeno reluctantly got dressed as well, his shy demeanor came back as soon as he wore his glasses and fixed his hair.
“I got to go, Jeno. I’m sorry that I’m leaving in such a bad time…”
You went over to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.
“I promise to make it up to you next time, okay? I’d love to meet you again.”
You grabbed a paper bag from your backpack and handed it to him, waving as you bolted out the door.
After fixing his things, he sat down for a moment and took a quick peek inside the package that you left him.
It was a ziplock bag of full of cookies and a whole other treat.
You left him your two-piece lace lingerie.
To be continued.
#nct#nct dream#nct u#nct x reader#nct smut#nct jeno#nct hard hours#jeno#jeno scenarios#jeno au#jeno smut#lee jeno#jeno imagines#jeno x reader
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Bobby’s Playdate Part 2
Part 1
The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?
Tom Hiddleston/OFC
Chapter 2 of4
Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut
@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren
I am so sorry I took so long to update this! First I was distracted by a super busy week, and then I decided to rework what I had in store for it. It took a while to redo, but I have decided to make it a 4 part story. Hope you enjoy, and that the wait was worth it!
The day had started out like every other since the lock down began. Leia had slept late, having no where to go. A cold, wet kiss on her nose from Lulu woke her up when the pup could no longer wait to be let out and grumbling she had taken her out for a quick walk up and down the block. After two cups of coffee and some melon, Leia had realized that after three months of enforced solitude, both she and her dog had gotten decidedly surly. It was time to get out, even if it was only to the local park.
Lulu’s excitement when she took out the little pink and white checked dress had been enough to put a smile on Leia’s face. Really, the small dog was a ridiculous creature, but she could be such a bundle of sunshine. After they were both outfitted – Lulu in her dress and Leia in a comfy outfit and mask, they made their way to the nearby park, enjoying a leisurely stroll around the newly green paths. She wished that Lulu was not too timid to play in the dog run, but after spending a year in the shelter the poor thing was terrified of other dogs.
That was why she was so surprised when Lulu’s tale began to wag excitedly. Normally she would have been cowering and whimpering in fear at the sound of another dog approaching, but for once her reaction was completely different. She jumped up from where she had been snuggling on Leia’s lap and perked up her ears, tongue lolling out happily. When the chocolate spaniel came trotting around the bend, she even jumped of Leia and strained at the leash to meet him.
Keeping a tight hold on Lulu’s leash, Leia let her eyes travel up the lead attached to the strange dog. It was quite a long trip, as it happened, past a pair of long legs in torn jogging pants, a faded shirt that would once have been bright blue, and a plain black mask until she got to a set of smiling blue eyes that made her heart stop.
“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I promise he is completely friendly.”
She had known who he was instantly, of course. No face mask could disguise those cheek bones, the copper curls that brushed his collar, or the baby blues that had sent a million fan girls swooning. If she had had any doubts, one word from that sinful voice, a verbal caress of polite friendliness, would have stamped it out. She had seen almost all of his movies, after all, and quite a number of his promotional appearances as well.
“It’s okay, so is she,” she replied struggling to keep her voice normal and grateful for the mask that hid her stunned initial gape. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”
And then Tom Hiddleston – The Tom Hiddleston! – had sat down on the bench next to her while she petted Bobby and struck up a casual conversation! She had kept her eyes on the pups at first, afraid that if she looked at him, he would see the excitement and intimidation in her eyes. He introduced himself, needlessly, of course, and she gave him her name in a kind of daze. She realized that he had only provided his first name and had the quick flash of insight that he might be enjoying the idea of anonymity. If that were the case, she would not want to spoil it for him by gushing. Uncertain of what to do, she let the obvious joke about her name lead her to mentioning Marvel characters. That way, she decided, he would have a segue to talking about his career should he want to. When he let it slide and quickly changed the subject, she decided that her assumption must have been correct.
Which was absolutely fine with her! She was sitting and talking to Tom Hiddleston! While she would, of course, love to pick his brain about Loki, or Shakespeare, or any of a dozen projects, she was more than happy to listen to him discuss his dog in that proud pappa voice. By the time she had told him the story behind Lulu’s dress excitement she was reasonably settled and could actually manage to look him in the eye without blushing.
She had met a few famous people in her time as a London tour guide, and many of them had been a colossal let down. Tom was not one of them. He was everything she had ever imagined or hoped he would be. Kind, funny, clever, a little prone to talk on about any subject he happened on, but in all a delightful conversation partner. She was disappointed but not surprised when he had to leave, but she didn’t want to be too greedy; it was already one of the most magical afternoons of his life. When he mentioned running into them again, she almost squealed with excitement, just barely managing to keep her face impassive.
Thus began a fairy tale of month for Leia and Lulu. After two days of rain, during which she was certain he would forget all about her, they had found the boys again at the same spot. Leia half wondered if she were simply dreaming, but if so, she had no desire to wake up. They met up with Tom and Bobby most days, walking for hours sometimes as they discussed London, their childhoods, school. She learned quickly that he changed the subject instinctively whenever anything came up that might lead to his career. She could respect that. It must be hard, she thought, being always in the public eye. For her own part, Leia tacitly decided to keep the subject of her book a secret. After all, a fantasy story based on Norse Mythology, with Loki playing a leading role, was bound to bring up the sort of conversation he obviously wished to avoid.
As time went on, she began to forget he was a movie star and just think of him as her friend, insane as that struck her when she stopped to look at it. Oh, she was still absurdly attracted to him, but it was no longer for his stunning character portrayals or teasing banter with interviewers. No, the teasing banter she was interested in now was much more personal for her. He was delightful company, unfailingly polite, quick with a wickedly funny comment or a profound musing on life. In short, Leia was well and truly smitten. Hopelessly, she thought with a sigh.
When he invited her to his home, she could barely believe it. A casual acquaintance in the park was one thing, a dinner chez Hiddleston was completely different. She knew it was in large part for the sake of the puppies, and that was fine. Lulu was as besotted with Bobby as Leia was with Tom, only in this case it was obviously mutual. Leia would just have to be careful to guard her heart. She was not a part of his real life, and she needed to remember that, even if they never discussed it.
***
Bobby started barking seconds before the buzzer rang, his tail wagging back and forth at a frantic pace. Tom, scarcely less excited, gave a quick glance in the mirror before slipping on his mask and opening the door.
Leia stood on his doorstep looking even more lovely than usual. Her simple leggings and long tee had been replaced by a pretty, floral sundress in shades of red and yellow and her hair, usually tied up or back, was long and curling about her shoulders. Tom swallowed and tried to keep his eyes from doing too obvious an up and down of her body. It was difficult, considering the shape of her legs and amount of them showing. Lulu’s yip drew his eyes down to her, and he saw that she was dressed in a purple polka dotted number for the evening, her hair sporting several sparkly clips to keep her braids from coming undone.
“Hi, welcome!” he greeted them, straining to keep Bobby from leaping out the door. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thanks,” she smiled with her eyes as he ushered her inside.
“You found the place alright?”
“Your directions were perfect,” she assured him, glancing around at his newly bare entryway. “It’s quite the posh street you live on! I don’t think I’ve ever been into one of these houses.”
“Oh, it’s just like any other home,” he said modestly, feeling stupid as he did. His house had an electronic gate (that he had left unlocked for her) and a private surveillance system. He knew it was not the usual home. “I can give you a tour later if you like.”
“I’d love that. Whatever you have cooking smells delicious!”
“Thanks. I’ll have to check on it in a bit. For now, though, why don’t we go out back? I have some drinks chilling.”
He gestured for her to proceed him and subtly steered her past the kitchen and living room and out the sliding glass doors into the back. The yard was pretty, a nice square plot with flowers growing along the fence on three sides and one large tree giving shade. A table with four chairs and a grill stood on a little stone area, and Tom had set it up with a selection of glasses for beer, wine, and mixed drinks. A pitcher of iced water stood next to a bottle of dry rose in an ice bucket, and another small bucket contained iced beers.
“Here you go, Bobby,” he unleashed the spaniel who instantly tore off around the yard, looking for his favorite toy. “Why don’t you two have a nice frolic.”
“Oh Lulu, this will be fun!” Leia cooed to her pup, also removing her dog’s leash.
As the little dog scampered off after Bobby, Tom took a deep breath and turned to her owner. Now was the moment he had been waiting for.
“I suppose since we are alone and outside and all… as long as we stay six feet apart… would you mind?” he gestured towards his mask.
“Not at all. Oh, and I got my negative test results back. I have a copy on my phone if you want to see them!” she offered.
“No need, I trust you,” he was quick to assure her. “I got mine as well.”
It was strange – until a few months ago he would have felt tremendously awkward wearing a mask around another person. Even when he had needed to wear one for a few scenes in Only Lovers Left Alive it had seemed tremendously cumbersome and rather silly. Now though, Tom realized that he could not remember the last time he had been around another person without one. There was something shockingly intimate in the act of taking it off in front of Leia, and he found himself feeling almost shy. Blushing a bit, he unhooked the straps from around his ears and took the fabric from in front of his mouth, setting it on one of the chairs.
His eyes fastened on her as she reached up to do the same, the red mask peeling away to reveal a small bow of a mouth, pink lips curved in a slight smile. Her chin was slightly pointed and had a cute little half dimple to one side. Smile lines were just barely visible and added to the appeal of her face. It was a very kissable mouth, he decided.
“Hi,” he said, rather fatuously, face breaking into a sheepish grin. “I’m Tom.”
“Hi Tom,” she smiled back, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m Leia.”
They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, until he cleared his throat and pointed to a chair.
“Please, have a seat,” he managed to say. “As you see, I have wine, beer, water, or I could make you a cocktail if you’d rather. Or lemonade if you prefer a soft drink…” he realized he was babbling and cut himself off.
“Wine would be nice,” she said, sitting down and crossing one long leg over the other, giving him a lovely glimpse of her thigh.
“Right, wine it is,” he said, uncorking the bottle and grabbing a glass. “I hope it’s alright. My sister loves this brand, she brought it when she was here last, and it is better than anything I would have known to get.”
“Not a wine guy?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.
“Oh, I like a good hearty red with a steak now and then, and I will definitely have some with dinner tonight – I hope you like Italian, by the way – but for casual drinking, I’m more of a beer or scotch fan myself.”
While he prattled on Tom opened up one of the beers and poured it into a pint glass. When the foam had gone down a bit, he raised the glass and tilted it towards her.
“To deepening new friendships,” he dared to say, eyes finding hers.
They clinked their glasses, and he took a long sip of the hoppy beverage, hoping he hadn’t over stepped.
“To embracing human interaction!” she added. “Selectively, of course.”
Well, she obviously didn’t recognize him. That was a relief. He had been half worried that she would shriek, or become tongue tied, or worse. It was remarkable to him how many women seemed to have extreme reactions to meeting him. He was so ordinary! Just an overgrown ginger kid from Wimbledon. It wasn’t like they were meet Daniel Day Lewis for god’s sake. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest twinge of disappointment. He worked hard at his job, after all, and was proud of the reputation he had developed and of the work he had done. It was strange, with how up on everything Leia always seemed, that she didn’t have any knowledge of Marvel at least, or The Night Manager. Still, some people didn’t watch a lot of movies and TV, or if they did it was more intellectual fare.
They both leaned back in their chairs and watched the dogs play chase back and forth. Tom found his eyes drifting back to her, staring at her mouth. He had never realized just how much a person’s mouth said about them. Leia’s smiled as a default, giving her a more youthful look than she had when it was covered. There was something fresh and approachable about her that he was drawn to.
The conversation was light and easy. Neither of them had been doing much of anything lately, so they resorted to telling older stories from their childhoods. Tom was amused to think of Leia playing with her friends, insisting that no, she wanted to be Han Solo despite what her thoughtless parents had named her. Tom, of course, had wanted to play all of the characters, and delighted her with his spot-on Darth Vadar and Grand Moff Tarkin impressions.
“You were a terror, weren’t you?” she laughed as he described bossing his sister about the correct way to make the light saber noises.
“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Emma and Sarah would probably say more than a bit. They had it coming though.”
“I’m sure they would agree with that, too,” she said sarcastically.
“It’s not my fault they couldn’t take direction,” he grinned. “I’m sure you would have made an excellent Han Solo. With the proper lessons.”
“Perhaps you can make me your student after dinner, if we have enough wine,” she suggested.
He knew she meant it innocently enough, but he felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the image her words planted in his mind. Leia in a schoolgirl outfit, bent over his desk flashing through his brain was enough to make him reach for his beer and gulp down more than was advisable. She seemed to realize after a moment, as she too reached for her glass and took a long swallow.
Lulu chose that moment to break away from where they had been digging around the tree and came running over to them, something grimy hanging from her mouth.
“What have you got there, peanut?” Leia sked, sounding a bit relieved.
“She seems to have unearthed one of Bobby’s treasures,” Tom smiled, glad of the distraction himself.
“Here, princess, you want me to throw it for you?”
Leia held out her hand and she happily dropped the toy into it. Tom looked at the toy and felt his jaw go slack and his eyes frantic. It was Loki. Of course it was. One of Bobby’s favorite toys, naturally, given to him during the lead up to one of the movies, the thick ropes of green and gold formed a long God of Mischief chew toy/tug of war combo, complete with horns. Tom licked his lips, glancing quickly at Leia, only to see that she was smiling down at her fluffy pup.
“Oh, Lulu, Look! It’s just like yours, only a bit more loved,” she said with a laugh. “Good girl, saving the handsome prince from a shallow grave. Loki never stays dead for long!”
With another laugh she took the toy and threw it across the yard, Lulu and Bobby both quickly scampering off after it. Tom gaped at her, uncertain what to say.
“You must have a lot of those,” she commented off handedly.
“You… you know?” he stammered.
“Know what?”
“Who I am?” it sounded stupid and conceited to his own ears.
“Well, I hope so since I’m in your home.”
“No, I mean you know what I do for a living,” he ground out, feeling like an utter ass.
“Of course,” she told him, quirking her lips.
“Since when?” he choked out.
“Since the first day. You’re not exactly easy to mistake, Tom.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I figured it must get old, people falling all over themselves around you, treating you like you’re not even human.”
“Yeah. Yeah it does.”
“So I took my cue from you.”
“I see,” he was completely flummoxed. “And you have a Loki toy? For Lulu, I mean?”
“Of course, he’s our favorite! Poor, misunderstood boy. You know, I am glad I have the opportunity to tell you now how good you are. And not just as Loki. You were breath taking in Betrayal.”
“You saw Betrayal?”
“Twice. Stunning work.”
He knew his mouth was opening and closing stupidly, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She had known, all this time. She had been humoring him by not talking about it. He was not entirely sure how to feel about that.
“Tom is everything alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.
“Was that why you talked to me?” he heard himself asking. “Why you agreed to come over? Because I am famous?”
“No,” she said slowly. “I came over because you asked, and because I like you. Yes, I was a bit star struck at first, but I got past it. Are you angry? I just assumed you realized.”
“No. No, I didn’t. I… I should go check on dinner.”
“Tom, really, are you okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Be right back.”
Turning tail, he fled into the house, mind in complete turmoil at the new turn of events.
#Tom Hiddleston#Bobby Hiddleston#tom hiddleston fanfiction#Fanfic#rpf fanfic#rpf#tom hiddleston rpf#Tom Hiddleston/OFC#Fluff#Lock Down#slight angst#romance#dating in quarantine#future smut#flirting#puppy love#Bobby gets a girlfriend too!#adorable#Bobby's Playdate
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Heliotrope
Here’s my submission for the Forget Me Not collab for Anisylum! Please note the TW as it is VERY heavy. This piece is entirely SFW though!
Ship: Tsukishima Kei x GN! Reader
Genre: Angst, but some fluff in some places.
Word Count: 2.2k
Trigger/Content Warnings: near death experience, hospitalization, COVID-19, vomit mention, amnesia after hospitalization, a suicide attempt is briefly mentioned, swearing because this is by me
Sexy Sexy Masterlist: here!
Sand clung to skin and the harsher rays of light that usually cascaded and burnt you had died away into a fading tangerine glow. You perched comfortably on the sand, taking note of the undulating waves- they were like you in the sense that while you could crash down hard on the opposition, you would shy away in a fragile manner when faced with gentle treatment. Perhaps it was that you felt you weren’t worth such luxuries that you found it hard to make friends through your first few years of high school. Perhaps it was trying to push people away because you were afraid yet alarmingly aware of your mortality. Perhaps it was something else entirely, something you weren’t quite ready to come to terms with.
What you did know was that you weren’t alone in the violent struggle through high school to make friends while you had your walls up. Next to you was someone you never thought you’d share your favorite place with; in any terms you found this boy appalling with his behavior. So appalling, you saw yourself in the way he closed himself off and cut those close with tongue lashings. You knew this only through another friend who took issue with him as you went to another school in an entire other prefecture.
Words mauled their way out from your throat, breaking the silence between you and Tsukishima Kei.
“I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life.”
You didn’t understand yourself. Why would you say that…? You don’t remember anything like this at all…
His response was equally incoherent and odd.
“Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.”
When you opened your mouth to reply to him, the ground around you suddenly reared up like a defensive serpent. A pillar of beach sand forced its way from the ground into your throat, suffocating and trapping your lungs in permanent fullness. You could only gag and cry, unable to even see Tsukishima past the torrent of sand breaking into your body with the intent to kill you slowly…
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You woke up once more in that dull grey-blue and white room with the only sounds you could properly process being the beep of a heart monitor somewhere behind you. You had managed to halfway curl into somewhat resembling the fetal position, but something kept making you cough and gag as your throat was caught. You move your hand to whatever is catching and about to make you vomit- a tube. This tube, you followed, was in your nose good and solid, and you felt it deep enough in your sinuses you didn’t dare try to pull it out.
Moving your hands felt foreign like you had forgotten how to process being human and natural motions like that. You testingly ran your right hand down the tube, taking care to not tug and cause discomfort. Your other hand came to rest on your face. It was slick from sweat, likely due to whatever the fuck you just had a dream about. At the corner of your lips was another tube and when you followed where it led it was taped to the side of your face.
You lick your lips and manage to almost fall into a haze until you see movement for the first time in what feels like forever.
To be fair, it is one of the most jarring appearances of a person you’ve seen in your whole life to what you can recall. A person in a full-body hazmat suit enters your room through a door you hadn’t even processed was there, then greets you as casually as they can through a plague-resistant suit.
“Hey there.”
You squint at them. Yeah, you have no fucking idea who this cosplayer in a hospital is, and while you should probably be polite, you feel like you got ran over not once but twice.
You try to speak to them, but you can’t. You don’t have the air for it, it’s like you have no control over your breathing.
Clarity washes over you. You’re hospitalized. These are tubes because you were asleep and weren’t breathing or eating right. The realization must show on your face because your nurse speaks up again.
“Don’t worry about me too much, we’re just gonna check your vitals and if you feel up to it, we can see how you do without the ventilators.”
You try to manage out a “whoopee”, which unimpressively comes out as some form of odd wheeze, and your nurse begins by grabbing the blood pressure cuff covered in protective plastic while they wear a sympathetic expression.
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Once you were off the ventilator, the nurse informed you about what had happened. Apparently, an ambulance was called when you were unresponsive and nearly blue in the face, sitting in front of your refrigerator with the door open. You were diagnosed with a severe case of COVID-19, something you had feared would wipe you out entirely and turn you past tense since its spread in your country. This fear wasn’t entirely irrational, either- you were immunocompromised and have been since you were a child. You grew up with being careful around others and hearing of a highly contagious new strain was something that filled you with so much paranoia you seriously considered quitting your current career and instead adopting a hermit lifestyle while completing college at home.
Of course, such a thought was squashed by the slowly impending thought of rent, bills, due dates for assignments, and your bitch of a manager who lets people get close to you without a mask on. It’s not a big deal, (y/n), she once said to you.
You wanted to shoehorn some tubes down her throat just to survive, see how that felt.
It didn’t help that human resources wouldn’t listen to your complaint. They brushed it off since you were just a lowly sandwich maker at a chain sub place. If you had enough scraped together for lawyers right about now, they’d be totally fucked, you thought to yourself. Even more jarring is that it seemed you lost a handful of memories while in the hospital. You could remember basic outlines of people in your head- your very tall and incredibly testy roommate, your younger sister who wore glasses and was much smaller than you, and… a foggy memory of a man with messy black bedhead who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder. It hurt to think too hard.
The doctor soon came by to give you test results, to check your vitals again, and to look over your records. He was a bit terse, but you can’t make the best judgments of people when they’re in plastic suits.
“We’ll need to get you cleaned up by tomorrow and you should be able to head home,” he’d said, looking over your chart.
You didn’t necessarily feel too ecstatic about your trip to your apartment. You remembered your roommate and how finicky he was, and you dreaded for him to belittle you over your condition. You dreaded it enough to even feel a knot of anxiety form in your stomach, wrenched in between your ribs without the intent of ever coming out.
“We’ve already contacted uh…” The doctor squints at the screen, “Tsukishima… to come to pick you up tomorrow at noon. We’ll have care instructions printed out. You still have to quarantine for about a week more since your immune system isn’t at its most prime currently.”
You agreed, it probably wasn’t a good recovery idea to make a couple of sammies for the public while you were recovering from a virus that had you intubated. He seemed grateful that you were lucid and cooperative, at least.
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You, predictably, didn’t sleep well after being in a medically induced haze for several days. Even more predictably, you found yourself awake from anxieties of the future. Tomorrow was only a few hours away, and then you’d be home.
Home… what did that look like for you? The fog in your head was thick initially. You do remember coming home from classes at a different time than Tsukishima, how when you entered he’d often be reading over homework. You remembered how sometimes he would be in the shower and the scent of cheap green apple soap filled the living room connected to it. You remembered…
You remembered holding his thin frame in your arms on a bridge, pulling him back from oncoming traffic. You remember how you both collapsed and how the cold autumn air stung your lungs. You remember wide golden eyes staring back at you, as tears slowly filled them, then his normally impartial voice breaking as he hiccuped a sob,
“Why? Why did you have to be in Sendai right now?”
You felt tears stinging your eyes and a lump form in your throat. You found yourself in distress of your new emotions. Maybe… maybe you can sleep this horrible feeling off. Maybe this fog in your head where you need to know how deep your relationship ran will lift once you get genuine sleep.
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Finally, a knock on the door encouraged you to rouse from your sleeping state. And eloquently, you spoke your true feelings in your sleep-deprived state,
“No.”
You hear the doorknob turn and the door open. There’s a lack of a greeting from your nurse nor a quick apology from your doctor for interrupting your sleep. Actually, if you’re gonna use logic, what nurse or doctor is gonna wake up their peacefully sleeping patient in recovery?
Thought of it being your doctor or nurse practically evaporates once the intruder has a seat on your bed. They still haven’t spoken, so now you’re remembering what tricks of self-defense you learned online to give this person a proper ass-kicking for getting way too close.
You crack your hazy eyes open to get a look at where they’re sitting and you stop dead in your thoughts as wary gold eyes peer down at you. Your eyes widen out of reflex and butterflies bloom from your stomach at seeing what you now remember is your roommate.
“I knew you were awake,” He said, a wry smile on his face. His expression was betrayed by his concerned gaze, though, “Wow, you look like shit.”
You don’t know entirely why past his comment feeling not as an insult, but almost as a compliment, but you smile a little, “I feel like it too.”
His expression doesn’t change. He runs a large calloused hand through the tresses of your hair, though, as if to soothe you. The doctor walked in and apologized for interrupting the moment between the two of you, unsure if it was something serious. You told him it was nothing because that’s what it was to you.
╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡
The car ride wasn’t filled with the snarky banter you had been expecting. Instead, there was plentiful comfortable silence as Tsukishima drove. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or not for the silence- you still felt quite feeble and needed way more bed rest before you could get ready to do anything for anyone. Despite the wholesome silence, you felt those round gold eyes focus on you occasionally. And even though it was comfortable, you felt a melancholy twinge in the atmosphere as he inspected you.
“I know you’ll give me shit for this… but you look like you’ve lost weight. I uh…” He gripped the steering wheel harder. You glanced over at him.
A shade of baby pink dusted itself across his cheekbones and nose as he focused on the road.
“I’m worried about you.”
Fuck, there go those butterflies again. Something in you pushed to help- to comfort- but the logical side of your brain brought you to a halt.
You’d weighed it in your head a couple of times. You two act closer than just roommates, and it’s not entirely clear how or why you got up to this point… but you had a solid hunch you might be dating this guy. Maybe? You closed your eyes and rested your head on the car door as you thought.
You remember how sand clung to your body and you could hear the roaring of the sea. How you watched Tsukishima focus on the waves to regulate his breathing. You vaguely remember your words breaking away from your throat and catching the salty sea air.
“Why don’t we stay together?”
His lanky body stiffened, then he looked at you with disbelief.
“... you wouldn’t want that. I’m fucking annoying and mean.”
Your eyes creased with familiarity at the line.
“Yeah? So am I. We can butt heads until we balance each other out.”
It looked like he wanted to cry, but his pride wouldn’t let him cry in front of you anymore today.
“I won’t ask you why you tried to do what you did today. But I will ask if there’s anyone you can talk to in your life,” you reached a careful hand over to rub his back, “Kei, if there isn’t, let me be that person.”
You felt how his breath shuddered. To save his pride, you looked to the ocean and watched its hypnotic movements. After a few deep, shaky inhales and exhales, he replied.
“I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me. Why you didn’t let me die. I will probably come back to this point in my life several times and you’re trying to say you’ll put up with it?” There was some bite to his tone, he was trying so hard to put up walls when he had no will to do so at the moment. How long had he pushed others away from being close? If he was anything like you… it was since grade school.
“Let me be your support for when you’re in pain,” You tried once more, “I’m stubborn as shit so I know I won’t give up on you.”
“You’re not getting it, you fucking idiot. I’m always in pain, that’s just been life,” he snapped bitterly, glaring at you now.
“Then I guess I’ll be by your side forever.”
You’d said it without thinking that day. It was like the ocean grew quieter with your words as if even Poseidon became interested in your proposition.
You felt heat rise to your face at the implications of what you said. He stared at you with raised eyebrows and the slightest hint of a champagne pink hue on his face. He averted his eyes almost in a panic and watched the ocean again, suddenly very aware of his own expression. You carefully peered over at him again to see he’d only grown redder, now mirroring you.
“You… don’t mean that,” He said as if it were a statement.
“I do. You’re a good person inside, but you’re defensive and hurt. I’ve seen that from you in the past and I’ve learned more about you today. I want to be there for you as long as you’ll have me. Will you let me?”
He picked at the sand as if thinking it over for a moment. There was a brief pause as waves rolled over each other in front of both of you, the sound of their impact being the only thing to grace your ears. Finally, his cynical tone returned as he regained some form of his prior composure.
“Okay, but I’ll kill you if you go back on it.”
╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡
“Hey. (Y/n), we’re home,” Tsukishima gently shook your shoulder to rouse you from your sleep. You opened your eyes slowly and groaned out a swear. Tsukishima felt a hesitant smile creep up his face as he opted to just try and maneuver you into your shared home himself. He remembered how waking up was hard for you. Once he opened the passenger door you nearly fell out onto the pavement, only saved by your seatbelt and the giant himself. Your face fell awkwardly into his hip, and you grumbled at the interruption to your sleep.
“You sleep like the fucking dead, christ,” he mused out loud and sat you up so it was safe to unbuckle your seatbelt. He urged you to get up more- it wasn’t that you were heavy, he just really wasn’t in the place to lift you at the moment and didn’t even know how to go about it. Regardless, he held you up by a shoulder and crouched to make it easier for you both to walk to the apartment.
In some part of your sleep, you began to speak, “Kei.”
He kept his gaze trained forward at the front door and struggled to grab his keys from his pocket, “Yes?”
“Are we married?”
Kei dropped his keys, then shot you a look of concern, “... No…?” He had to hold himself back from saying not yet, unsure of what you were getting to. He reached down to grab his keys and he focused back on the door.
“Why are you asking?” He unlocked the door and threw it open, getting you both inside finally. He set you on your couch and sat on the floor in front of you.
You looked at him suspiciously, now roused from your sleep. The only thing on your mind was that dream- it had to be a memory! You refused to understand it as anything but that. You prodded, “On the beach, I told you I’d be by your side forever.”
He seemed to weigh your thoughts heavily in his mind, “... did you forget about us?”
You didn’t expect what felt like cold water to hit your back so hard and so suddenly at his suggestion. He didn’t seem hurt at the thought, instead, he found himself occupied with your reaction. His hand reached out to rub the side of your face as you looked at him with wide, guilty eyes.
“Don’t worry about it. Your sister told me this kind of thing might happen…” His calloused thumb traced over your lip, and he offered a smile the best he could, “I’ll try to explain it.”
Tsukishima explained that what you remembered happened about four years ago and you had been living together ever since. He motioned to photos on the walls of the two of you and people who you could just hardly remember. When you rested your index finger on an individual who was much scrawnier than most of the people there, sitting on the bench with you and watching you speak with admiration, Tsukki put his hand over yours.
“That’s your sister. She took most of these pictures, but she usually sits next to you when you have a space available.”
You nodded and closed your eyes. You began to remember summers you spent with her in childhood and her yelling at you to do your homework when you bothered her as you got older. You smiled a bit. Once your eyes opened again, your finger traveled to possibly the tallest person in the room. He was big, but you remembered something warm and comfortable about that man…
“That’s Kuroo. You both went to the same high school and you were in his friend group.”
You both went on like that for a while until you’d cleared everyone in that picture. Once you did, you sat down to think over the new cluster of names you’d picked up.
“... when you promised you’d be here with me forever, did you remember what I promised to you?” Kei asked as he sat next to you.
“No… I just remember what happened on the beach up until you threatened to kill me if I took back my promise.”
“Oh, right. I was going through that phase,” He seemed displeased with the comment. You found it almost funny but refrained from laughing for his sake. He continued, in a quieter tone, “I promised that if something happened to you, that I would always be here for you, too. That I’d get you back into shape.”
His larger hand gently entwined with yours, “... so if you remember that promise and you’ll have me, I’d love to marry you once you get your memories back. … If you want to. I-”
You cut him off with a hug to his side, trembling a bit as your emotions got the better of you. You smiled up at him.
“I can’t promise I’ll be better fast, and I still feel like several trucks ran through me at once… but I’m happy,” you managed out. You didn’t know what your face looked like right about now and you didn’t have the nerve to look up into Kei’s glasses to check your reflection. He wrapped his arms around you in return, pressing the side of his face against your head.
“Please, don’t give me an answer yet. You’re not in the right mental state. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.”
You ran your hands up and down his back. You weren’t exactly afraid of remembering things, but you were quite anxious for what tomorrow might bring for both of you. Despite that, you felt safe recovering in his arms, and you were sure you’d feel that way for a long time.
Have a link to the sexy sexy masterlist down here as well. Unless you’re done reading, then have a good day. But if you’re not there’s some fire stuff in that bad boy.
#fanfic#tsukki#tsukishima#hq#x reader#tsukishima x reader#angst#fluff#collab#anisylum#sfw#tw near death#tw hospital#tw hospitalization#tw covid#tw memory loss#tw suicide attempt#tw suicide#cw swearing#i could be convinced to make a part two in the future#forget me not#heliotrope
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Live Like Animals
Nessian Modern AU
Merry Chris- er, happy New Year to my secret snowflake!
@ncssian 💕😅
I hope you like the fic! I’ll be honest, when I filled out the application for the secret snowflake, I said I could make a fic believing that it was very unlikely somebody would ask for one 🥴🤔 But lemme say, I LOVED writing this, which is definitely something I didn’t expect. More than that, I’ve never been much of a Nesta or Nessian fan, but actually thinking through their characters and interactions for this fic gave me a whole new perspective on and appreciation for them (even if I’m not the best at writing their characters, aha), so thank you!
A few quick things about the fic:
(Ik I already told you this, but for anybody else reading this aha) This is my first fic! So please take it easy on me 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
Okay so this part is kind of weird, but there’s kind of a corresponding playlist 😅 Each part is named after a song. You can play the songs while reading or not, I know for me personally (*cough* my ADHD ass) it’s hard to listen to music and read at the same time. The title is also the name of a song! Except that one is more random, haha (I couldn’t think of a title, so I shuffled my entire library and chose the first song as the title, and it kinda worked so I went with it)
One more quick thing – thanks to @moussescientist @ko0mbayamylord @blxckbeak @chanberry @mikitheswiftie @potatoburp @dead-on-the-inside666 @queenoffortunes and two anons for answering a question, and a HUGE thanks to Skye, @oneoutofamillionbooklovers for all your help and for roleplaying the parts I got stuck on with me ❤️
Part 1: Distant Early Warning (Rush)
Nesta pulled the dress over her head, letting it slide into place over her body. Screw this, she thought for the millionth time, yet she continued to get herself ready, turning to glance at her reflection when she was finished. She raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly at the woman looking back through the mirror. The woman Nesta spied had on a satin slip dress, darkest blue. She wore no jewelry save for the small silver studs in her ears, and her hair was pulled into a neat-yet-simple updo.
Why Nesta even agreed to go to this party she didn’t know. There was nothing different about it, just another college booze fest. The music would be too loud, the air too heavy, the guys too grabby, and the company too... clubby. Feyre insisted that she would fit right into her friend group – her clique – but Nesta wasn’t sure she wanted that. She padded over to the door of her apartment. No, Nesta was quite certain that “fitting in” with Feyre’s newfound friends was something she didn’t care for at all.
Nesta’s phone buzzed on her kitchen counter as she slipped on a pair of black heels, and she picked up to Feyre’s forcibly perky voice. “Hey! We just pulled up, you coming?”
“No.” Response blunt, tone dry. The line was silent for a long moment, and Nesta held in a sigh. “Did I give you the impression that I was interested in coming?”
“Nesta, I’m not in the mood for fucking around,” Feyre said, perkiness mysteriously faded now. “It’s just one party! I promise you’ll have fun.” Bullshit.
“Since when have I ever-”
“And everyone else really wants you to come, too!” Feyre cut her off, “Rhys is excited to meet you!”
Rhys. Feyre’s boyfriend. Nesta groaned inwardly, truly dreading any interaction with the rugby star. Feyre had immediately caught the eye of the local heartthrob, and the two began a serious relationship shortly after meeting. And with one came the others. In high school they would have been labeled “popular.” They were quite possibly the closest group of friends at the college, almost all of them having known each other since childhood. And Feyre had slipped right in among them. Nesta had warned Feyre against making the tight pack of fourth-years her main group of friends, and she had her own opinions about a freshman dating a senior, but Feyre didn’t make a habit of following Nesta’s advice. Rather, she seemed to think she could give Nesta – a third-year – much more valuable guidance. Domineering bitch.
“I don’t give a shit about your friends, Feyre. I’m only coming because of our deal,” Nesta said. Feyre had been pestering her all semester, spewing crap about how Nesta and Feyre should spend more time together. Nesta should get out more. Nesta should tag along with Feyre’s friend group. Nesta should have some fun.
More bullshit.
As second semester began, Feyre had proposed a deal: Nesta would go to one party with Feyre and her buddies, and if she honestly didn’t enjoy it, Feyre would stop asking her to join them.
“I’m on my way. Let’s just get it over with,” Nesta grumbled, and with that, she hung up the phone and opened the apartment door.
Part 2: Can You Afford to Be An Individual? (Nothing but Thieves
Nesta looked around the group of fourth-years–plus Feyre–arranged in front of her. Introductions were unnecessary; you couldn’t attend this school without knowing who they were. Her eyes fell first upon Rhys, his arm around Feyre’s waist. His chin lifted slightly as she made eye contact. Rhys: double major in history and foreign policy. President of the astrology club. Captain of the rugby team, possibly one of the best players the school had ever seen. He was the group leader, though nobody said it aloud. Nesta knew him well. Perhaps she only knew his type well, or her own perception of his type, but that didn’t keep her from holding his gaze a few moments longer than would be comfortable. Then she turned her scrutiny on his sidekicks, so she called them, Cassian and Azriel. The former wore jeans and a baggy black jacket over his rugby uniform in the school colors: black and red. The latter wore black pants with a dark blue button-down shirt untucked.
Cassian smirked as her eyes met his. “Glad you decided to make an appearance,” he drawled. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his smile widened in response. Cocky bastard. Azriel, double majoring in political science and criminology, simply nodded at her in greeting.
After the sidekicks came Rhys’s cousin Mor, an architecture major with a minor in design. She was entirely too peppy in a way that left Nesta exhausted, but Nesta wouldn���t give her satisfaction by scoffing at her cocked hip and half-grin, ostensibly projecting confidence. She held Mor’s stare, matching her asserted confidence with a cool security in her own assets. The half-smile twisted, just slightly, and Nesta moved on to the short girl farthest to the right: Amren.
Amren scared people. As in, people were genuinely freaked out by her. Aside from a few cultish tendencies, her occasional propensity for violence and/or verbal outbursts, and her sharp expression, though, Nesta couldn’t tell why. Amren majored in gemology and minored in linguistics, and was the only one in the group other than Feyre to have not known the others since they were little. In fact, she was studying here from abroad, though nobody actually knew where she was from. Unlike Mor, Amren presented a confidence that Nesta could believe in and respect. Nesta maintained her chilled posture, but let the bite in her expression retreat.
As for Feyre’s introducing Nesta, that was unnecessary as well. They all knew her; most upperclassmen did. Or rather they knew of her, by the name of heinous bitch. If she were being honest with herself, she didn’t mind the nickname.
“Okay,” Feyre started, her voice expectant as she tilted her chin to look at Rhys’s face, “Let’s head in?” Feyre, Rhys, and Nesta had met up with the rest of the group in the parking lot before they entered the party. Fashionably late, Feyre had told her on the drive in Rhys’s tesla. Rhys taught me that the key to maintaining his public image is in making grand entrances. God, Nesta wanted to laugh at Rhys’s influence over her.
As they entered the building holding the party Nesta immediately stiffened, and had to close her eyes for a moment against the harsh blue and purple lights cast by PAR cans. All senses at once were smacked by the presence of weed. The floor was vibrating, and speakers blasted near-deafening music so that all Nesta could really hear was thunder. Jesus Christ, I hate parties, she thought. A mass of sweaty bodies shifted and bounced through the too-heavy air ahead of her, some only silhouettes in the murky haze, through which Nesta saw red solo cups littering every possible surface. Suddenly she noticed Feyre standing next to her, fidgeting with her clutch and looking over expectantly. Nesta shot her a withering look that said, “This is not what we agreed to.” Feyre had the nerve to look guilty.
“Okay before you say anything,” Feyre began, “I know that look, and... I know this is a bit bigger than we talked about-”
“A bit?! This is a rager, Feyre. Do I look like I rage?”
“Okay no, but I promise Rhys and I have a plan.” Oh my God.
Nesta gave her another glare and plucked a cup off a nearby table. Sniffing it, she sighed and took a big swig. “Please, my dearest sister, do tell.”
“We’re going with a buddy system.”
Nesta coughed. “A buddy system – are you fucking kidding me?” She spied Rhys and his dickhead friends in the corner of her eye. “Wow, are arts and crafts before or after beer pong?”
Feyre rolled her eyes, calling a fresh wave of frustration to roll over Nesta. “Can you shut it with the attitude, Nesta? I already apologized for the crowd of people – it kind of got out of hand. Rhys told me before we left but I didn’t want to scare you out of coming.” She gave Nesta a pleading look.
“Tch, whatever. Who’s my buddy? I assume you’ll be with Rhys?”
Feyre beamed at her. “You’re paired up with Cassian!”
“Cassian.” Great. Alpha dickhead.
“Don’t be like that. He knows his way around these things and he’ll keep you from accidentally overdosing or blacking out.”
“Who said that wasn’t my intention?”
Feyre scrunched her face up. “Either way, you can’t deny that he’s bigger and taller than half the creepy guys here. He’ll keep unwanted attention away.”
Nesta watched as Rhys, lead hulking rugby bro dickhead, caught sight of her sister and eyed her with what might have been lust or love – Nesta couldn’t decide. Cassian, approaching from Rhys’s side, cut Nesta a slow, purposeful look down and back up to her face. She felt an annoying tingle down her spine as the crowds parted for them. This was going to be a long night.
Part 3: Inhaler (Foals)
They had been at the party for less than ten minutes and Nesta already wanted to leave. Drink in hand, she aimlessly wandered around the outskirts of the crowd, hoping to find a place to sit farther from the lights that drowned out any rational thought that flashed through her brain. Cassian trailed a few steps behind.
“So, what do you do for fun?”
She twisted around to glare at him. “Why are you talking to me?”
Cassian puffed out a laugh and spread his arms wide, responding, “If you don’t recall, we’re kind of stuck together, darling.”
Right. Nesta rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?” Cassian left the question hanging, still following her, so she forged on. “I like to read. A concept that’s probably foreign to you.” She dodged a young couple parting from the fray to make out against the wall, and paused to reorient herself.
“You might be surprised.” Nesta groaned inwardly and arched a brow. “Oh I have no doubt.”
“None at all?”
“What. Are you on volume seven of Captain Underpants?”
“Volume eight, actually.”
Nesta stopped. She was pissed. Pissed at this party, pissed at Feyre for lying about how big it was, pissed that she was stuck with rugby bro sidekick, pissed that the purple lights suddenly seemed a lot brighter, the music a lot louder, her thoughts a lot fuzzier. “Look, Cassian. I only came here as a favor to my sister. We’re not friends.” He started to cut her off, but she continued, turning so that they fully faced each other, “You don’t have to stay, I can take care of myself.”
He leaned in close, the laughter in his tone suddenly gone. “Listen, princess. You’ve had two beers and you’re already tipsy. I get it, we’re not friends. But there are at least four guys looking at you like they want to take you against the nearest surface and I’m the only man within a thirty-foot radius that has any self-control. There’s no way I’m leaving.” He held her gaze firmly.
“So that’s it – I’m just supposed to trust you? My knight in shining armor, here to protect my virtue? That ship sailed a long time ago.” Fuck it. “I wouldn’t mind taking you for a ride though,” Nesta said, flashing a smirk at the end.
Cassian’s lips twisted into a half-grin, but she could see annoyance rising up in his eyes. “Nesta, you don’t wanna play with me.”
“Brute.” Nesta turned and started walking away again.
“Bitch.” He followed.
Nesta scoffed. “How original.”
“Not all of us are English Lit majors.”
Somehow Nesta tripped on her own foot at that moment, staggering sideways into Cassian’s path. He lunged forward, arms going around her waist to hoist her upright. Her lip curled and she spit out, “And not all of us are rugby stars,” and shoved her way out of his arms.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Cassian asked, incredulous.
“Cassian, I’m sure there are plenty of girls here that would love your attention. But I’m not one of them.” She turned around to face him, walking backwards, and almost tripped again. “So go on and play with someone else. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” With that, Nesta thrust herself into the fray, pushing her way through the mass of shouting people, making the crowd a barrier between herself and Cassian.
Part 4: Emergency (Nothing but Thieves)
After five minutes of random college students bumping into her from every direction, her head pounding and thoughts muddled, Nesta realized she didn’t know which direction the exit was in. Fuck. She was disoriented and exasperated, her frustration now showing in her usually unshakable expression. She couldn’t even tell which direction the light was coming from. How many beers had she drunk? Two? Three? She wasn’t usually a drinker, and it hit her then that she hadn’t eaten for hours before the party started. Stupid, she thought. This was why she didn’t do parties.
She was so distracted trying to figure out where the light source was, trying to get her bearings at least, that she didn’t catch sight of a brooding figure wending its way toward her until the man had a hold of her wrist and was pulling her to the side of the room, wherever that was.
“Hey! Get the fuck off me!” Nesta shouted over the crowd, but couldn’t get a response from the man until they found one of the cinder block walls.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice cruel as he tried to pull her closer. “We’re just having a bit of fun, that’s all.”
“Excuse me?” Nesta ripped free of his grasp, but he backed her into a corner. He had a drink in one hand. Not good.
“Hey, hey, no need to get worked up,” he drawled, “I saw the way you were looking at me.” Looking at him? Nesta thought. This was the first she’d seen of him.
Nesta tried to step to the side, but the man followed her, his senses keener than hers in her condition. He reached out for her arm again, and Nesta shouted this time. “Don’t touch me!”
He put his hand up as if in innocence. “Come now, I’ll make it fun for you. Just have a drink.” He brought the cup toward her face, his hand now reaching behind her head, which she snatched away.
“I swear to God, can’t you bastards understand that no means no?”
“You-”
“Get the fuck away from me, creep!” She aimed a kick at his groin, but he easily dodged it.
His mouth hardened into a line, and he growled, “Just take the damn drink, bitch!”
The man shoved her into the corner, her head hitting the wall. He brought his hand up to hold her back by her shoulders as he brought the cup up toward her lips and-
“Let me go or I promise you’ll regret it.” Last resort.
He shot her a crooked grin and began to reply, but whatever response he had in mind was cut short.
A voice from behind him said, “And she never goes back on a promise, asshole.” The man was wrenched off her body by two strong hands, and pulled over to the side to give her an out, which she quickly took advantage of.
And there, dragging the man away from her, was Cassian.
The creep tried to play it cool. “Hey, Cassian, bro, what’s up, man?” he said mock-casually, “I caught your last game! great playing, dude!” His demeanor shifted completely as he turned on his bro mode.
Cassian’s jaw was set. He tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder, his stare withering. “You need to leave. Right now.”
Yet the man kept going with a smirk, “It’s all good bro, we can share.”
That was a step too far.
Cassian grabbed the man’s shirt, pulling him close. “That’s the thing – I don’t share. I don’t play nice.” Cassian thrust his face forward so they were only a couple inches apart. “You said you caught my last game, right? So you know I don’t go down without a fight. Touch her again and you’ll regret it.” With that, he shoved the guy into a table, and turned to Nesta. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Part 5: Before We Drift Away (Nothing but Thieves)
Dizzy and shaken, Nesta let Cassian guide her through the crowd to the exit. Once they were outside in the cool night air, he pulled her aside, gaze dark.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did he force you to drink whatever was in that cup?”
“No.”
His eyes closed and relief flooded across his face. “Good. God, some people are fucked up. I don’t know what I would have done if he had drugged you, or taken you away, or...” He trailed off, leaving anything further than that unsaid.
They were silent for a minute. Nesta looked up at him, a bit of worry still etched across his features. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you care so much?”
He looked over to her, something strange in his expression that Nesta couldn’t place. “I don’t know. You’re a human being, and your safety was left in my hands.” He paused and looked away. “If I’m being honest, when I saw that guy put his hands on you... I don’t know. Something flipped inside me.” At that moment he looked down to her bare shoulders, noticing that she was beginning to shiver. “You’re cold,” he said softly. “Here, take this.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, even when she protested.
Nesta frowned as she gave in and pulled his jacket tightly around her, annoyed at the way her body betrayed her. “I don’t need protection. I’ve lived a long time without people to care about me.” She started walking toward the parking lot, and he followed.
“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Nesta. You’ve been pushing me away all night, but listen to me – don’t you understand? I’m not just talking to you because I’m bored. I don’t smile at you as a game, as if you’re some prize for me to win. Can’t you see by now that I’m doing literally everything I can just to stay by your side? Damn it, I asked Feyre to pair us together at the party.”
Nesta had stopped walking and was speechless for once.
Cassian stepped closer tentatively, as though she’d back away. He ran a finger over Nesta’s wrist and looked up to the sky. “Please, just don’t make me say anything else completely insane. I promise I’m not in the habit of sharing intense moments with perfect strangers.”
A rush of anger coursed through Nesta, and she shoved him back. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t talk to me like that. Despite what you must think, I’m not an idiot. I’m not naive. I am well aware that this is all a favor to my sister. Stay with my lame, antisocial sister. It might be fun, right?” She paused, any restraint she had used earlier having completely abandoned her.
“That’s not what I think at all, Nes-”
“Fuck you, Cassian.” She shoved him again, more aggressively this time.
Cassian caught her wrists and pulled her closer. “Try that again.”
Nesta glared. “Bite me,” she spit out.
“Maybe I will.”
And as though drawn to her by some gravitational force, Cassian’s mouth came crashing down onto hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, seeming to lift her off her feet. Nesta’s bare skin burned where Cassian touched her, and she pushed back against his touch to gain control. Everything, every thought was fading to nothing. Biting down on his lip drew out a low groan from Cassian, and Nesta broke free.
Cassian put his hands up as though to make a barrier between them, as though he wouldn’t be able to control himself without it.
“So much for being the only man with self-control,” Nesta said. Cassian just shook his head, earning a light snort from Nesta. “I shut everyone out--even pretty jocks like you. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier.”
Cassian smiled his easy smile, and he reached up to touch his lips with a thumb. “You think I’m pretty?”
Nesta scoffed. “The prettiest.”
He stood there for a moment, just smiling at her, before turning back toward the parking lot. “Okay, princess, allow me to introduce you to the pinnacle of after-party activities.”
Nesta raised a brow, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about pancakes.”
She looked skeptical. “Pancakes?”
“Yes. And after the night you had, you deserve an entire plate of them.” Cassian reached out to her with his big, warm hand, and Nesta hesitated.
“Cassian-” She started warily.
“Hey – I’m not asking you to marry me, it’s just pancakes.”
Nesta waited a moment more, then took his hand. “Fine. But I’m not sharing the chocolate sauce.”
“I wouldn’t dare ask you to. Besides, you already know how I feel about sharing.”
Nesta smiled a bit. “Hey Cassian?
“Yes Nesta?”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
#ahhh i'm kind of terrified#first fic#please like it#also side note#i uh i kinda fell in love with your blog#you're awesome#I hope you like it!#and you're so sweet too?#what you responded to my anons was so encouraging ahhh#secret snowflake#god i'm so nervous akjhfkjh#nessian#nessian fic#nessian modern au#modern au nessian#acotar#acotar modern au#acotar college au#acomaf#acowar#a court of thorns and roses#acofas#acosf#nesta archeron#cassian#bat boys#inner circle#archeron#nesta and cassian#nessian fanfic
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MER Week Day 2 - Long time no see
Summary: It’s been a while since Alistair Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have seen each other. They’ve been busy on their separate planets, helping in whatever ways they can to get things back to as normal as they’re going to get. However, with some free time, they’re finally getting to meet back up. Problem is... somebody forgot to mention the testosterone. Whoops. Well, at least Shepard’s got a free offer of carapace ripping from his sister if things go south.
(Set after ME3, enjoy your t4t shakarian lol)
---
Babe: See you at 3 then.
The message still glowed on his screen, burned into his retinas from the night before. It was the last message in a long conversation that had lasted well into hours he should have been sleeping, but it had been worth it. After all, it was important to hash out details when your fiancé was coming to visit.
It was even more important to do so in his circumstances.
“Fuck…”
The words leaked out from between Alistair’s teeth as he glanced around – the time said it was sometime after 2:40. Like always, campus was busy, full of his fellow students going from one class to another. Most of them look tired – and he understood that fully. Between med school and fighting the reapers… some days it could be a toss-up, depending on what he was doing.
Most days, med school won. Maybe that was a good thing? Or maybe he was just a sadist.
Regardless, campus was busy. It was easy to blend into the crowd like this as he sought a seat on a bench under a tree. All he could do was look at the screen of his omni-tool, frowning as he read through the messages.
He shouldn’t have been nervous… but he was.
Maybe that was why he clicked onto a new message window, just as busy as the one with the one he had been glancing at. Even better, the other person was online. Something like hope sprung into his chest as he started typing, fingers flying with the speed of an ex-Alliance officer.
Some things were fading with time – this probably never would.
Al: Where are my anxiety meds when I need them?
Bo: Relax, he’s going to love it. And if he doesn’t, there won’t be anything left to bury afterwards.
Bo: Or whatever turians do when they die.
“Nothing like threatening my fiancé to get me to calm down.” He chuckled despite himself, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. However, a beeping drew his attention. Bo was attempting to video call him, which he was more than happy to accept.
Rannoch was as busy as ever on the other side of the line. He could see quarians and geth in the background, going about their business as his adopted sister focused her camera. Even after tweaking it, she was still a little skewed and not completely in the frame. However, she was allowed to be – her analogue sense of direction had saved his ass. She could be as out of focus as she wanted.
“I mean it, Al.”
He chuckled again. “I know, Bo. I guess I’m just nervous. I mean… we haven’t seen each other before…”
With his free hand, he gestured towards his body. Some days, especially in the early morning when he was half asleep, he was still unable to believe what was actually happened. It seemed more like a dream… at least until his voice cracked. It was doing that far less as his range settled, but still. At his age, it was kind of embarrassing.
Oh well, puberty was rough, especially when it was triggered for a second time in his 30’s.
“Told you that you should’ve sent him more dick pics.” Bo’s tone was flat as a pancake as she adjusted her camera – still out of focus. Now he was getting a view of Rannoch’s currently cloudless sky. Last time he had seen it, it had been full of Reapers. Honestly, he preferred it without them. Much friendlier. “Just relax. You know he thinks you’re hot as hell. All you have to do is use your commander Shepard voice and he’ll be eating out of your hand.”
Alistair felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m not going to use that in public…”
“You know what I mean. An Adam’s apple isn’t going to turn him off, so no sense worrying about it.” She paused, and he swore her eyes glowed. Maybe that was the camera angle? “And if it does…”
He could already see the threat – beating him with his own carapace was one of her favorites. He had never actually seen someone do it, but it was a classic at that point.
“Yeah, I know - death and calamity upon his head like you’ve only reigned down on the last guy who tried to take your crown.”
“He’s still recovering.” There was pride in her voice at that, and she should have it. After all, it wasn’t every day a human went undefeated in Omega’s underground Krogan wrestling tournaments. Surviving the reapers only brought better challengers, and it seemed to keep her well supplied with cannon fodder. “But anyway, just go for it.”
There was a pause, and her camera focused momentarily. “Also, since when did you start growing a beard?”
Oh, hail the mighty power of testosterone…
“Like two months ago, shaving sucks.” A beeping drew his attention – his heart raced at the sight of a new message. “Gotta go… I think that’s him.”
“Remember, just call me if you need his carapace ripped off.”
After the offer of violent assault, the call disconnected and left Alistair alone with his thoughts as he switched back over to his messages. Just like he thought, the message was from a certain someone he was waiting for. His heart jumped into his throat as he glanced around – nope, not there yet.
Babe: Almost there, got a little lost. I’ll never understand human city planning.
He always said that. Still, it made the ex-marine chuckle as he stood, waiting. Soon enough, they would be together again. It had been far too long, and the distance achingly wide. But now that the relays were working again, it was possible.
Note to self: maybe don’t take out the relays next time he saved the universe. It made travel a nightmare to say the least.
At least it wasn’t a long wait. Out of the corner of his eye, Alistair spotted movement that didn’t quite track for tired med student. It was too focused for that, and the pace was all wrong anyway. Plus, the whole carapace and being like seven feet tall thing helped, but it didn’t sound nearly as cool as the former.
“Alright, just… relax. Like Bo said…”
Of course, that didn’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he stood, adjusting his shirt. All the logic in the world couldn’t have saved him then as he watched the turian approach, clearly scanning the crowd for familiar markers. His heart stopped when their eyes met in the crowd, blue into blue.
Garrus was looking good for someone who had nearly died killing Reapers.
“Al?”
There was no mistaking the surprise in the turian’s voice as he made his way over to the tree. When he finally got there, his mandibles flapped like flags in the wind. The gears were turning in his brain, no doubt running countless calibrations. In a weird way, it was kind of cute.
At the same time, it was fucking nerve wracking. Talk about a conflict of interest.
Still, it was Garrus, and he was finally there. That was enough to put a smile on Alistair’s face as he reached out to take the turian’s taloned hand. It was just as rough and warm as he remembered, and his fingers still stretched as they laced together. It might have been a little sore, but muscle memory wasn’t letting him down.
“Hey, babe. Good to see you got here in one piece.”
Thank the universe his voice didn’t crack with that one. Maybe this was the thanks he got for saving it.
At least Garrus had the good grace to not look as though his jaws had stopped working. Alistair did get to watch his eyes travel downward in the classic once-over, though. All the while, his stomach bubbled. It felt as though a heavy weight was poised to drop on his head, and all he could do was stand there and wait.
Eventually, the turian squeezed back carefully, the blunt side of his talons sliding down his fingers. “So, I guess this is why you’ve been so shy about video calling me lately?”
“My voice was cracking really badly up until about a month ago, you were saved a lot of translator feedback.” He smiled, sheepish. “But… yeah. I didn’t really know how things were going to turn out and…”
His voice trailed off as he felt heat leak into his cheeks. “Here’s hoping you still think I’m hot?”
Yep, his voice definitely cracked at the end there. Maybe the universe had it in for him after all. At least Garrus didn’t wince too hard at the sudden shift – good old turian military training there. Still, he hadn’t said anything yet. That… wasn’t promising.
Maybe he should have sent those dick pics?
“You… what’s that called again?” Garrus cocked his head to the side in a gesture that always made him look cute and kind of bird-like. “On your face. Joker was always talking about his.”
Right, turian…
“Beard. And mine’s not quite as good as his yet I’m afraid but give me a few months and I’ll see what I can do.” He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, fingers ghosting over his amp. It hadn’t seen action in almost a year now, and it was still odd to feel it cool to the touch.
Much to his relief, Garrus nodded. “It looks good now. I mean, you look good in general and all… I thought turian reactions to hormones were impressive, but humans are something else.”
“Gotta love those secondary sexual characteristics, babe.” Relief flooded through Alistair’s system as he sighed in relief. “And I think you just saved yourself getting your carapace ripped off by my sister.”
Hooray – that would have been a nightmare to fix.
Now it was the turian chuckling as he reached down to press his faceplates to his forehead in an alien version of a kiss. It was a gesture that always got his heart racing, even if it was just a quick peck. He had missed that in their time apart – texting just couldn’t beat actual contact.
“That’s probably for the best. I’ve not had a lot of practice lately, might be getting a little rusty.”
Alistair chuckled as they started to walk through the crowd. “You, rusty? I find that hard to believe.”
“Oh, no, it’s true. Barely had any time to run calibrations even, I’m starting to worry I’ll forget.”
That time, they shared a laugh between them. Maybe this was what Alistair had missed the most in the time spent on different planets – there was just something about the interplay between human and turian laughter that made his insides feel warm. Or maybe that was just his reaction to Garrus in general. Right then, anything was possible.
Still, he felt his face color a little as he looked to the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t send any in-progress shots. Bo could confirm any embarrassing details if you asked her.”
“Trust me, I get it. Remind me when we get back to your place to tell you about how I didn’t tell my sister I was going on hormones until after she came back from basic.” Another squeeze. “Of course, if you wanted to test that new vocal range out in some more strenuous conditions first…”
Oh, there was nothing friendly about that gaze. And it was something Alistair could appreciate as he squeezed back. Home was well prepped for what they both had in mind – they just had to get there first. Lucky for him, he lived within walking distance of campus.
The chuckle that escaped his lips was definitely not of the innocent afternoon type as he leaned in so only the turian could hear him. “I think that can be arranged, Vakarian. Better pick up the pace, though.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
With that, it was off they went at a faster rate, not quite a run but definitely quick. With the sun shining and thoughts about what was waiting for him when he got home, Alistair was once again glad the whole universe saving thing had worked out for the better.
Now… what exactly was he going to do with the turian when he got home? The options were endless…
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[HPHL] Jackson Knightly Moodboard
We can do what we're told,
We can go where we're lead,
But I learned from my father to see what's ahead!
Nothing here to hold me, no one that I owe...
Funny how a boy can grow!
Funny how a city tells you when it's time to go!
~“My Petersburg,” from Anastasia the musical
Full profile under the cut! 💚
HOGWARTS LEGACY PROFILE (template inspired by @hogwartsmysterystory)
Name: Jackson Lucas Knightly
Nicknames: Jack, Jackie, Jax, Jacko, Knightly
Blood Status: Half-Blood
House: Slytherin
Magical abilities: Wandless/wordless magic; (5th year on) Animagus (European adder with a white line on the left side of its lower jaw)
Wand: Ebony and Dragon Heartstring, 12 inches, temperamental
Personality: Witty, animated, sociable, curious, intelligent, resourceful, resilient, impractical, ambitious, rebellious, capricious, mercurial, flirtatious, overthinker, easily distracted, procrastinator
Myers Briggs Type: ENFP
Sexuality/Gender Identity: Gay / Cisgender Male
Birthday: May 29 (Gemini)
Appearance: Short wavy dark brown hair; bright "ocean blue” eyes with flecks of green, long-fingered hands; a rather youthful, boyish face; a small white scar on the left corner of his lower lip; a charming smile “so handsome it could belong to Lucifer himself, either before or after the fall”
History:
Jackson is the only child of disgraced witch Cassandra Knightly and her husband, a Muggle named John Eglinton. Cassandra was initially disowned by her family due to her becoming pregnant out of wedlock -- even her marrying John to try to protect her honor didn’t mend fences with her family, as the Knightlys never approved of Eglinton.
It seems they were right not to trust Eglinton, for when Cassandra felt the need to tell John that she and their son Jackson had magic (after Jackson at age nine had somehow managed to levitate himself completely off the ground after nearly falling out of a tree), Eglinton decided to try to capitalize on it. Knowing his wife wouldn’t approve and would probably try to stop him with her own magic, Eglinton kidnapped Jackson and fled the country so that he would be the sole person with control over Jackson’s life and activities.
Eglinton took Jackson to New York, where he used his son as a pawn in his scams as a supposed “spirit medium.” Eglinton got a lot of acclaim and money for his supposed “supernatural abilities,” which in truth were Jackson making things levitate or conjuring up things like flowers or fog with wandless and wordless magic.
Jackson was stuck marching to the rhythm of his father’s drum for several years before befriending a young Pureblood witch named Adelia Selwyn @that-ravenpuff-witch, whose family lived in New York City. Adelia tipped her family off to young wizard Jackson being in the sole custody of his Muggle conman father, and the Selwyns (not being very keen on Muggles) tipped off the MACUSA. The MACUSA took Jackson into their custody and erased all memory of his magic from Eglinton’s memory, leaving him to try and fail to recreate the tricks he’d had his son do with magic and subsequently lose all credibility and fade into obscurity and poverty. Despite how amiable Jackson generally is, he feels no pity whatsoever for his father’s fate and if pressed would have to admit he doesn’t even care if Eglinton is still alive or not.
Jackson was subsequently returned to his mother Cassandra in England and the following year was allowed to finally start attending Hogwarts. He was delighted to find his friend from New York, Adelia, in his year and house, and the two soon became very close confidants.
When he arrived at school, his talent for wandless and wordless magic without training and marked affinity for ancient magics in particular got Jackson a lot of attention. Jackson doesn’t dislike the attention, but he’s of the opinion that there’s so much more he can learn and do, so no one should think he’s going to be satisfied just being where he’s at. Now that he has access to all of this knowledge and magic, he wants to take the Wizarding World by storm!
Other Facts:
Jackson fashion-wise would be considered a “dandy” in the vein of Oscar Wilde. Expect a lot of tailored jackets, embroidered vests, thin-legged trousers, and perfectly tied ascots.
Jackson’s best subjects tend to be “flashy” subjects like Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, and Transfiguration, though because of his talent for ancient magics, he is actually rather capable at History of Magic as well. His worse subjects tend to be “quieter” subjects like Potions and Herbology.
Although Jackson’s a charmer, he’s actually very hard to woo as a lover given his tendency to overthink people’s intentions and growing up with a hyper-masculine and therefore rather homophobic father. Jackson’s very friendly and a total flirt, but he’s actually a lot more sensitive than his witty, rebellious, affable air would first suggest.
One of Jackson’s dreams is to one day own and tame a dragon, specifically a Hebridian Black. In the meantime he’s contented himself with adopting a black cat familiar, who he calls Lenore.
Jackson is very fond of poetry, especially the works of Edgar Allen Poe, Oscar Wilde, Lord Byron, and Robert Browning.
One of his loftiest ambitions is to become Minister for Magic, though he’s also quite fancied the thought of becoming an actor, Dragonologist, or Cursebreaker. No matter what, he wants to do things his way and ruffle a few feathers along the way. Because hey, f*** the system, right?
Jackson has undiagnosed ADHD -- he’s pretty much always moving and always thinking, and his brain never really turns off. It also makes it difficult for him to finish projects and causes him to procrastinate and forget important details and deadlines.
One of Jackson’s special talents is public speaking -- if you need someone to help you give a presentation or convince someone else of something, Jackson is your guy. He pretty quickly finds a comfortable position as a Quidditch commentator during Inter-House Quidditch matches.
Jackson is the sort of person to add monikers onto just about everyone’s names and/or give people affectionate “titles,” i.e. “my dear [name here]” or “my [adjective here] friend.” He also frequently sticks to “Mr./Miss/Ms./Professor/whatever [surname]” until he considers you a friend, at which point he will definitely give you a nickname or two. (His best friend Adelia Selwyn’s are “Addy” and “Lia.” For male friends, he’ll sometimes just call them by their surnames, though he just as frequently will call them other nicknames too.)
Face Claim: James McAvoy (specifically in the film Becoming Jane)
#probably going to have to edit this as more game details come out buuuut#there we go!#if you want to make friends just reach out!#hphl#hogwarts legacy#jackson knightly#adelia selwyn#other people's mcs#aesthetic#moodboard
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maybe it goes like this: steve builds his pack (part 1)
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
Read on A03
Read the Tony courts Peter wip
Stucky focus (Steve x Bucky)
A sweet, slightly angsty backstory in three parts (ending in Stuckony).
Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, Middle/High School Au, talk about family death, public non-sexual submission, steve beats the shit out of some bullies
---
Maybe it goes like this:
Steve can’t remember life with a pack, but knows for certain that his Ma grieves for them. Ever since he was a boy, he would catch his Ma staring at fading photos of strangers, wiping tears from her eyes, and denying it when Steve would ask why do they make you cry.
It’s not until later in his life that Steve learns the truth about pack bonds, about the decision an Alpha makes in life to form a familial or an intimate bond with their packmates. His Ma refuses to let him learn about packs from school, instead sitting him down across the table, like an adult, Steven, and he learns about orientations and secondary genders when he’s nine years old.
His Ma explains the way kids will turn into adults: first establishing their orientation as Dominant, Submissive, or Versatile, and later in high school, presenting as Alpha, Beta or Omega. She threads their fingers together, and asks Steve if he can notice what she is, and he concentrates real hard, trying to decide, as his Ma laughs.
It’s okay, Steven, you won’t be able to tell what other people are until your own body has developed.
Steve nods, pretending like he understands, and asks his mom about her presentation. She gives him a sad— sad? — smile, and says she’s a Submissive Beta.
It’s silent as Steve puts those two things together with the strong, beautiful woman he admires as his Ma, and is still confused. He asks about packs, and Alphas, and what intimate and familial packs are— gaining an amused shake of the head from his Ma.
Why don’t I just tell you about my pack, yes?
Steve nods eagerly, desperate to hear the story of a family he never had,
My pack was intimate, Steven, which means we all loved each other very much and decided to live together. I met my— our Alpha when I was in nursing school, before you were born. She was already mated to two Omegas, and they had been searching for a Beta to join their pack. We fell in love. I met her Omegas, and all four of us were very compatible— do you remember what that means, hun?
Mhm, like when you know you belong with someone even more than anyone else.
Right, good, so we all belonged to each other, understand? We lived in our Alpha’s house, and all of us worked jobs in the city. About a year after joining her pack, I met your Pa. He transferred to the hospital I worked at, and he was also a Beta, like me, but he was Dominant. I introduced him to my pack, and they loved him too. Within a year, we were mated and I had you. Makes sense, Steven?
Yes, Ma. But… What happened to them?
At this, his Ma goes silent, breathing deeply before finishing the story for her son.
Do you remember the difference between packmates and bondmates, Steven?
Um. One is forever, right?
Yes, good, if you are in love or committed to a pack, they are your packmates, whether you are intimate or not. But sometimes, two people, or a whole pack, want to make their relationship last forever, and they become bondmates. All people have the private part of their necks, remember? You have to know, sweetheart, the only way to start a bond is to bite each other there while mating. We’ll wait to talk about mating until you’re in middle school, okay hun?
Yes, Ma.
Good boy. Now. The other important thing about bonding is that it ties your soul to another person’s forever. Any person of any orientation can bond with whoever they’d like, as long as they’re compatible. But you have to know, and this is so important, that once you bond, your souls become one. My whole pack was bonded, but… Daisy… hun, our Alpha died of cancer. She got very sick, and died. And when one bondmate dies, everyone who shares the bond gets sick and dies too.
… Ma, but. Why didn’t you die?
I decided, once I got pregnant with you, that I didn’t want to risk bonding to my pack. Your father and I loved each other so much, and you were the symbol of our love, not a bite. And I’m thankful, sweetheart, because I get to be your Ma and watch you grow up.
Do you miss them, Ma?
Every day, Steven.
Steve doesn’t remember his Ma mentioning her pack again after that day, but he did start to notice that she would get sad a few times a year, around forgotten birthdays and anniversaries. She would spend all of her days working hard to provide for the two of them, and always made sure Steve knew he was loved and valued, even when she denied herself the opportunities to find a new pack.
Looking back, Steve can see that they didn’t have a lot of luxuries or comforts, and definitely didn’t live in the best part of town. He had a few friends in Bushwick, growing up in the nineties it was a poor place to live, but they were perfectly happy to play in the streets during the day, and lock their doors tight at night.
As he ties up his laces, he thinks about his small family and is immeasurably happy. There’s no one he loves more in the world than his Ma. He hates the thought of getting on the bus and driving far away to switch middle schools, but his Ma reassures him that he will love meeting new kids and making new friends.
So he grabs his backpack, tightening the knots holding the straps in place, and hops down the stairs, only sparing one look to his Ma on the front step.
It’s a long bus ride to the school, more than thirty minutes. Over the summer, his Ma found out that the school system wanted him to transfer to a better school because of budget... something and overcrowding—? He’s actually not quite sure why he can’t go back to his old school, but his Ma made it seem like William Alexander Middle School thinks he’s special and has asked for him specifically. So yeah, Steve is really excited.
He’s going into Seventh grade, and gets his own locker, and gets to go to art class.
Steve spends the whole bus ride reviewing the schedule he already has memorized, and comparing it with the school map that his Ma printed for him, tracing his finger around from class to class. Bus to Nurse to Homeroom to Algebra to English to Nurse to Lunch to Gym to Art to Nurse to Bus.
The day passes this way, Steve confidently following his map around the school and taking notes in his small notebook. It’s not until Gym that he gets nervous, remembering his last asthma attack, and hopes the nurse told his gym teacher about his restrictions as he files into the gym and takes a seat on the floor.
“Steve Rogers?”
“Here.”
“No, Steve, I need to talk to you,” Steve looks up and sees his gym teacher, a really large man with a beard, waving him to the front of the class. The other kids turn to whisper to each other as Steve walks forward.
“I— did—”
“Steve, I have a note here from the nurse, saying you cannot participate in most exercises because of your health issues. Because of this, I’m going to suggest you join the sixth grade class, which will go at a better pace for you, and let Mr. Howlett help you further, okay?”
He feels his entire face flush dark red as the other students behind him whisper and laugh. He’s a seventh grader, not a baby sixth grader. He holds eye contact with the gym teacher, folding his arms across his chest, but still grinds out a, “Yes, Sir,” like his Ma would want him to.
“Good, it’s settled. Here, Mr. Howlett has sent James to show you where to go.”
Steve turns to find a small, smiling boy waiting for him at... parade rest? What—
“Alright Stevie, let’s go,” and the boy turns on his heel, marching across the gym as Steve scrambles to keep up.
James slows down slightly, letting Steve catch him, “First things first, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but most people call me Jamie. I hate it, but it’s better than nothin',” he looks over at Steve, eyeing him up and down, “Second, Mr. Howlett is friends with my dad. You stick with me, and this class will be a breeze, capiche?”
Steve swears his eyes are falling out of his head, and he nods his affirmation.
“Good,” is all Jamie responds with before grabbing his hand, tugging him to join a younger, smaller group of kids in the gym. As they approach, Jamie lifts their hands in triumph, “I found him!”
Feeling betrayed, Steve rips his hand free in embarrassment, but Jamie just smiles wider and pulls him towards their gym teacher, Mr. Howlett.
How this man could be bigger and scarier than the last teacher, Steve doesn’t know, but refuses to hide behind Jamie as they approach, and instead stands up even taller. Mr. Howlett makes a grunting noise, flipping through a few papers on his clipboard, before looking up at the two boys.
“Rogers?”
Before he can respond, Jamie pipes up, “Yeah! Here’s his note from the nurse, and he’s my friend and— and can I help him out? Please?”
It’s pretty clear that Mr. Howlett couldn’t care less either way, but all Steve can see is the raw, eager look in Jamie’s face as he begs their teacher to help Steve.
Huh, he thinks, the only other time I've seen this look is when Ma begs the pharmacist to refill my inhaler prescription when her paycheck's late.
“Whatever, Jamie, just keep outta trouble, ya hear?”
“Yes, sir!” Jamie delivers, with a crisp solute to match, and pulls Steve towards the back of the class.
They settle down, and Jamie keeps holding onto his hand. Steve glances over and sees Jamie quickly look away, suddenly shy.
“Jamie?”
The smaller boy looks over, hopefully, “Yeah, Stevie?”
“Thank you, I didn’t think I’d get a friend on my first day, much less the best one in the school.”
Jamie ducks his head again before turning his brilliant smile in Steve’s direction, and Steve continues before he has a chance to respond, “and Jamie?”
“Yeah, Stevie?”
“I swear, cross my heart, that I’ll find you a better nickname.”
Jamie’s eyes widen, and then he’s laughing, loud and doubled over. He grips harder onto Steve, who can’t help laughing along, even as they get funny looks from the class and a gruff, c’mon, quiet down, from Mr. Howlett.
Shaking his head, Jamie tries to catch his breath as he responds, “ I— I think— I’d love that— Stevie.”
And all Steve can do is smile back.
---
It takes a week for Steve to settle on Bucky, and when Bucky says he loves it, Steve runs all the way home to tell his Ma.
---
Steve and Bucky have Gym class and Lunch together almost every day for a year, and spend the whole summer waiting for their schedules to be mailed, hoping for at least two classes together.
They get their wish.
---
Halfway through eighth grade, Steve gets sent home with a stamped letter from his guidance counselor. For the past few weeks, the guidance counselor has asked him and Bucky to have lunch in her office, and the boys always shrug and agree. Today, after finishing lunch, she hands both boys an official letter for their guardians to discuss with them.
“Whaddaya think’s in it, Stevie?” Bucky asks, squinting at the letter as he holds it up to the light. The boys are heading straight from lunch to the nurse’s office to get Steve’s medicine, like they do every day, and Bucky grips tight to his hand, intertwining their fingers, like he does every day.
“I dunno, Buck. Maybe she’s gonna tell your Ma that you smell and needa bath,” the comment earns Steve a light shove, and an affectionate, “Punk,” in response.
“Jerk,” Steve replies, a reflex, and reaches out to pull Bucky closer, “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, Buck. She’s been real nice up ‘til now—”
“Yeah, I know, I just don’t wanna bother my dad if it’s somethin’ bad.”
They fall silent for a moment, both boys knowing how busy and strict Bucky’s dad can be. Steve sees Bucky’s head drop, lost, as he looks at the letter in his small hands. He slows them to a stop, turns Bucky around to face him in the school hallway, and hums in approval as Bucky meets his eyes and slowly tilts his head back. He grabs onto both shoulders, squeezing lightly, and pulls Bucky up close. Fingers tighten in the back of Steve’s shirt as Bucky clings to him, and he nuzzles into his best friend's hair, comforting, while rubbing across his shoulders.
“So sweet, Bucky. There’s no way your dad could be mad at you, alright? Believe me?”
He gazes down into soft, glazed gray eyes, and freezes. Bucky is slightly trembling against him, looking at him like he’s a revelation. Steve feels a calm settle into his bones as he reacts purely on instinct, reaching up to grip Bucky around the neck.
A few things happen in quick succession.
First, Bucky’s eyes roll up into his head, breath leaving his body in a woosh along with a high pitched whimper.
Second, Steve widens his stance, straightening his back, and Bucky sinks, fast, to his knees, gripping onto Steve’s thighs for balance.
And then, out of the haze—
“STEVE ROGERS, YOU RELEASE THAT BOY IMMEDIATELY,” and the trance is broken.
Steve is horrified to see Bucky curled up on the floor, and he stumbles back. Large arms wrap around him, herding him away from—
“STEVIE, no, please—” the voice of his best friend, his Bucky, follows him down the hallway along with small broken cries, and Steve fights hard against the strong arms that hold him,
“C’mon, kid, it’s okay. Just gonna call your Ma and getcha settled,” but Steve doesn’t care.
His boy is back there, somewhere, calling for him, needing him, and he can’t get back, he can’t protect, he can’t save, he can’t— breathe.
---
It’s okay, hun. Shh, sweet boy, it’s okay.
— Sarah, he had Jamie on his knees, submitting—
— no, I don’t think Jamie has stopped crying yet—
— only a few more months, it’ll be fine—
---
Steve wakes in his bed at home, confused.
“B— bucky?”
“Hey, sweetheart,” his Ma pushes past the door, “you up alright?”
He blinks his eyes a few times, disoriented, “Where… what—”
“Shh, hun,” she holds out a glass of water, which Steve takes gratefully,
“Ma, where’s Bucky?”
His Ma looks nervous, and straightens the sheets on the bed, “Steven, Bucky is just fine. How much do you remember about what happened?”
The memories are sticky, “I was just hugging Bucky. He was scared that his dad would be angry about the— oh! The letter from the counselor. Ma, I have an important letter for you. Officially stamped and everything,” his Ma just nods, so he continues, “I dunno, I was hugging Bucky in the hallway, and then something was… different. Like really heavy between us? And all I wanted was to keep him safe, but then… Then they took him, and—”
Steve looks into his Ma’s eyes, suddenly horrified, “I hurt him, didn’t I?”
He must’ve, that would be the only reason they knocked him out and separated him from his— from his—
“No, Steven, not like that. You absolutely did not hurt him,” then what... “You were the perfect Dominant, hun, and it’s not your fault, okay sweetheart?”
“Dominant? Ma…”
“Hush, Steven. I’m going to tell you something important, and you’re going to listen to me,” he nods once, so she continues, “the letter from your counselor was very important, Steven. Remember how boys and girls start to present around your age? Your guidance counselor has been monitoring signs of presentation between you and Bucky, signs that were confirmed today in the hallway. Steven, today you presented as a Dominant, and Bucky submitted to you. Do you know what this means?”
“T— that we’re… compatible?”
His Ma nods solemnly, “Yes, exactly. The doctors are not sure yet if Bucky is Submissive or Versatile, but you are a strong Dominant. My strong boy.”
“But Ma, why was it so bad?”
She sits on the edge of the bed, scooting so that she can pull Steve closer,
“Because, hun, both of you dropped.”
“Dropped...”
Ma hums, finding the words to explain,
“A lot of times, when a Dominant and Submissive are together, they go into a headspace. It’s calm, it feels right and certain and instinctual. Usually a Dominant will take more control, and the Submissive will allow it, naturally. If this doesn’t happen in a safe, private space, or if it’s interrupted, both parties are at risk of dropping. That means you could feel sick, lost, and upset— and even panic or become depressed,”
Exactly like what happened to me, Steve thinks,
“— and with you and Bucky, you both passed out from the stress. That’s why I need to know if you’re okay, Steven,”
It makes sense. Now that Steve knows what to look for, he can easily recognize not only moments where Bucky has submitted easily to him, but also moments where Bucky challenged him and he ended up claiming Bucky’s submission in an argument. His best friend, the boy who fights for him and is always at his side— it’s overwhelming. All Steve wants to know is—
“Ma, please, what happened to my Bucky?”
“Steven, don’t—“
“I need to know—“
“He’s still in a drop, hun.”
Steve swings out of the bed, “How? It’s been hours,” he hears his Ma stutter out something, but feels a resolve settle, “I’ve gotta be with him, Ma.”
“No.”
“But—“
“I said no. His pack is sending me updates, but was very clear that they want you to stay away from Bucky for now. He needs time to recover and understand what’s happened, as do you. And, as your principal recommended, both of you are switching lunch periods and transferring classes, to help reduce the stress of being around each other, is that clear?”
Not even sure he’s heard right past stay away from Bucky, Steve drops back into bed in shock. No more Bucky? He can’t even comprehend what his day would look like without his best friend next to him, and just like that, he’s destroyed one of most important relationships in his life.
Hot, wet tears fall through the night as he wraps around his sheets, wishing he was holding onto a smaller, dark haired boy with crystal blue eyes.
—
There are only two months left until summer, and they feel like two years without Bucky.
Steve cries himself to sleep for the first week.
In the second week, he tries talking to the adults in charge, all of whom give him pity and suggest he’ll get over it and move on.
By the third week, Steve is angry. He snarls at classmates, teachers, anyone who looks at him the wrong way. He gets sent home with a note about his behavior, and his Ma just gives him more useless pity.
During the fourth week, he’s walking the hall to his last period of the day, when he hears a plea for help and the slamming of a door echo from the boy’s bathroom. He runs inside, ready to take down a bully, and sees two eighth graders pinning someone to the bathroom stall. He steps in just as they punch the boy across the jaw,
“Hey assholes, why don’tcha pick on someone your own size?”
The boys whirl around and sneer, dropping the smaller kid in a heap on the ground.
“Look what we have here, a pint sized savior,” the larger of the two smiles wickedly, as he sizes up Steve, and the other one delivers a kick to their initial target for good measure, “Wonder where you got the balls, tiny?”
Steve throws his fists up, and the boys smile even wider, amused. The larger bully lunges for him, suddenly, and Steve absorbs his tackle, trying to roll them around on the floor to get on top. He delivers a well aimed elbow to the guy’s throat, which has him sputtering, and drives his knee down between the kid’s legs, earning him a satisfying howl.
“Yo, kid, it’s okay, c'mon it was just a joke—“
The other boy’s words barely register as Steve lands one, two, three hard right hooks to the bully’s face, before pushing off his chest and standing to his feet. The second kid scoots past Steve, hauling his friend up and escaping out the entrance.
“St— Stevie?”
All of the rage expels from Steve’s body as he turns to find Bucky smiling up at him from the floor where the bullies had dropped him just moments earlier.
He approaches slowly, and notices just how bruised Bucky is, just how tired he looks. Steve catalogs the blood on his face, dark circles under his eyes, possibly dislocated shoulder, and gaunt expression with care, touching as little as possible.
“We should— we should go to the nurse, Buck. It doesn’t look good.”
Bucky nods and attempts to get to his feet, but lets out a weak groan and sinks back down to the floor.
“C’mon, jerk,” Steve teases, trying his best to hide concern and devastation, pulling Bucky back to his feet on his good side, “do I hafta carry ya the whole way?”
There’s a weak laugh that could also be a sob from Bucky, and Steve tries to take more of his weight as they limp towards the nurse’s office.
He feels hopeful after hearing a barely whispered, “Punk,” in return.
---
The nurse lets the two boys cling to each other on the small cot, and proceeds to call both of their packs, asking for both kids to go home early for the day.
Steve glares at the nurse the whole time, knowing that he only has a few precious moments with his best friend before they’re separated again.
“Bucky?”
“Yeah, Stevie?” the younger boy looks up adoringly, “you okay?”
“I’m fine, Buck, how— are you okay?” He does his best to hold back tears that are welling up in his eyes, and enjoys the solid feeling of Bucky, safe and warm in his arms.
Small fingers run over his cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears that had slipped free, and Bucky’s smile just grows, “So much better now, that’s for sure.” He wiggles a bit, and Steve laughs lightly, gripping his friend’s waist tighter.
He leans down, brushing his nose against the shell of Bucky’s ear, and whispers, “Nothing has been the same without you, Bucky.”
A shiver goes through Bucky’s body, Steve feels it by proximity, and Bucky remains silent, until Steve hears one hitched breath, then another. He pulls away slightly, looking into Bucky’s face as the smaller boy dissolves into tears. Bucky pulls himself closer, burying his face in Steve’s neck as great, giant sobs tear him apart. All Steve can do is shush him gently, kiss him on the head, and rock them back and forth, waiting for his Bucky to calm down as the minutes pass in silence.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,”
Steve looks up, turning his body to guard Bucky’s vulnerable one, and sees Bucky’s Beta father and Omega mother standing in the doorway, expressions both shocked and resolved.
“Steve, can you tell us what happened?”
It takes a few minutes for Steve to explain how he saved Bucky, and when he finishes, he watches the Beta and Omega exchange a knowing look, before they take a seat near the nurse’s cot. Neither move to take Bucky away, which is perfectly fine with Steve, who just holds his friend closer. A quick glance gown confirms Bucky has stopped crying and fallen asleep, sniffling lightly.
“We need to talk to you, Steve,” he hears Bucky’s dad call for him, and reluctantly looks up at both of them, noticing the guidance counselor also waiting in the doorway. He nods to allow them to continue,
“I’m afraid we haven’t handled this situation well, son,” Bucky’s dad continues, “and it seems to have hurt both of you boys. I’m sorry, and want you to know we only wanted the best for Jamie.”
“I get it, sir,” Steve shifts slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “Does this mean I can see Bucky again?”
The Beta leans forward on his seat, making sure to focus on the younger boys, “Yes, Steve, we want you and Jamie to keep being friends, at least until you go to high school next year.”
He can’t even help the relieved sigh and small smile that take over his face, letting his eyes fall shut as he relaxes back onto the bed. Good. He doesn’t even spare a thought for their friendship after middle school, completely convinced that in this moment, him and Bucky will be together, forever.
---
Steve and Bucky fall back into their old routine, classes and lunchtime back to normal, and the news of Steve’s fight spreads like wildfire throughout the school. Both boys find themselves surrounded by new friends, many of whom knew Bucky but hadn’t hung out with Steve before, and he enjoys watching his best friend thrive in newfound popularity.
As summer approaches, Bucky starts talking more about going out for football in eighth grade. Steve always knew he loved sports, and had often encouraged Buck to keep playing baseball when the younger boy would get frustrated, so he naturally pushes his friends to try out. What he isn’t prepared for is how little he sees of Bucky over the summer. He barely notices at first, still seeing Bucky a few days a week, but then he starts to get rain checks on his invitations.
“Sorry, Stevie, rain check— I’m doing drills with the guys all day,”
“Aw man, rain check? I’m at conditioning every day this week and literally can’t get free,”
“Maybe rain check for this weekend? The guys are running plays all day, and I just gotta be there,”
“— you understand, right Stevie?”
And Steve does understand. He decides to give Bucky a little more space, only asking to hang out once a week, if that, and focuses on preparing for high school. He spends more time with his Ma, and she helps him pick out a brand new backpack from Walmart. When he protests, saying his old backpack is just fine, she shakes her head and insists on buying a product that will last. He fills it with notebooks and new pencils and pens and even a pack of colored pencils with a shiny dual sharpener.
It’s a few weeks before school starts that his Ma receives a letter from the school system. He’s decorating the cover of his notebook, laying across their living room floor, when his Ma comes and sits next to him on the floor.
“Steven, I have something to tell you.”
“Okay, Ma, one sec,” he takes a few moments to gather his pencil shavings, packing up his colored pencils, putting them in the correct order, and closing his notebook, stacking everything neatly on top.
“What’s wrong, Ma?”
“Remember when you went into middle school, and the government had to move you to William Alexander because the school closest to us was overcrowded?” Steve nods, he does remember, “Well, they don’t have the same issue with the high school here. So you’re going to be going Bushwick High, which is just a couple blocks away from us.”
“Oh, I thought I was gonna be going to school in Park Slope again, near Bucky?”
“I know, Steven,” his Ma gives a small pat to his head, before standing up and heading for the kitchen, “why don’t we have a snack and talk about it more? They sent a list of classes, and you get to choose electives and everything.”
Steve tries calling Bucky that night, eager to tell him about his news, but just gets the answering machine. He tries two more times that week, and comes up blank.
Within a few weeks, Steve is walking into Brooklyn High, confident and proud, and barely spares a thought about missing his best friend at his side.
#stucky#steve pov#steve x bucky#d/s fic#childhood friends#soft stucky#fluff#minor angst#steve beats the shit out of some bullies#mcu#fanfic#MiGLT#omegaverse
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The Gala
Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Reader
Word Count: ~2500
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, second-hand embarrassment
Summary: Momo convinces you to go to a gala. After being abandoned, you spend the night complaining to Todoroki about just how boring this party is. Little did you know, Todoroki was the host of this party.
A/N: I wrote this during finals week and I’ve barely edited it, just look at that detailed header lol. Also posted on my ao3 @allie_win
(masterlist)
You had no clue how you got here.
Well, you had some ideas.
It all started a week ago when Momo Yaoyuozu, otherwise known as Creati, invited you to a gala.
~~
“It will be the perfect place to get your feet out there,” She exclaimed while rummaging through her closet to try and find a dress that would fit you.
“You don’t have to keep babying me,” You demanded while watching her pull out a pale green dress you had seen her wear multiple times. “Just because you were my buddy in my first year at U.A. doesn’t mean you always need to guide me.”
“Listen, Y/N-chan,” She sighed. She sat down at the glorious armchair by her closet, “You have been a hero for a year now and an intern with me since your first. I loved helping you during my third year, I loved seeing you grow!” She tucked her hair behind her ear and debated her next words carefully. “However, even after a whole year of hero work, you haven’t made a name for yourself. You are so amazing and should be in at least the top 100 heroes.”
You groaned and let your body fall onto her soft bed. “I hate how you are always right,” You mumbled.
It had been a tough year for you.
Mistake after mistake pulled you lower and lower on the hero ranking. It felt impossible to climb back up.
Yaomomo, as kind as ever, got up from her chair and made her way to you. She kindly moved your hair out of your face and scratched your scalp. “This is an important gala, going will get you an amazing opportunity to make connections.”
“Yeah,” You agreed, closing your eyes. “I want a black dress.”
Momo gasped and immediately got up. “I know just the one,” She exclaimed.
~~
So, now here you were.
You had just arrived with Momo, who immediately got you a glass of champagne before abandoning you to go say hello to some colleagues.
“Go ahead and make some friends,” She called out while being dragged away by some friends.
You sighed and turned around to looked around the room. You tipped your glass and chugged down the bubbly liquid courage. You immediately placed your empty glass on a dish passing by and grabbed another glass.
There were so many heroes around the room and all of them were chatting away with each other and exchanging cards. You saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, some being people you’ve worked with and some being past classmates.
However, the person that really caught your attention was Todoroki Shouto. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and matching tie with velvet linings. His hands were empty and shoved in his pockets. He was standing in a corner in a very similar way to you.
What really interested you in Todoroki was that he wasn’t chatting with anyone. He was one of the top heroes and rarely worked on his friendship with heroes or approval ratings. And yet, he was in the top 3 in approval rating.
You took another sip of your drink and pushed yourself forward. If you wanted to talk to anyone at this party, it was him. You wanted to find out how he climbed to the top without having to waste his time talking to people at parties.
“Todoroki Shouto,” You greeted once you were in range for him to hear you.
The reserved man looked up from the ground to see you.
“Ah,” He said, taking his hands out of his pockets and holding it out to shake yours. “Y/L/N Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”
You graciously took his hand to shake it. “The pleasure is all mine,” You smiled.
“How are you enjoying this party?” He asked.
Although it threw you off that he would be asking you about the party or ready and willing to talk to you, the champagne in your stomach made it a little too difficult to figure anything out. “Rather boring, honestly,” You explained. “I haven’t been here long, but I’m not one for parties.”
He hummed in reply. “Neither am I,” He agreed which helped calm your nerves.
Talking to one of the top heroes could be nerve-wracking, so his comment about not being one for parties made you feel much more comfortable. “Yeah,” You sighed in agreement, “It’s not like this party is that great anyway.”
“Oh really?” Shouto inquired, his eyes piercing into you. “Please elaborate.”
His heavy gaze made your face feel much hotter than usual, but you ignored the feeling and continued on. “Well, the food is all seafood and garlic. By the end of the night, this place is gonna smell like alcohol and dead fish.”
You drank the rest of your glass and had it immediately replaced by one of the staff members.
“I do like the staff,” You noted while the young man holding a tray politely bowed to Todoroki.
You looked back to the handsome man in front of you. Maybe you were babbling more than usual because of how attractive he was and how nervous he made you. Regardless, the drinks in your system made it impossible to tell.
Suddenly the song changed to one rather basic. It felt like a pop song that was made in a lab to simply reach the top 100. It hurt your ears and your tipsy personality couldn’t help but comment on it.
“Oh,” You exclaimed, grabbing Todoroki’s attention. “I also hate this music. The DJ really sucks!” You shouted over the obnoxious beat.
“Would you like to move away from the stage then?” Todoroki offered.
That took you by surprise.
You were well aware of how much more loud you could get while drinking and you did not expect Todoroki to actually want to keep a conversation with you. You nodded and attempted to sober up while following him to one of the many tables in the back. Along the way, you were both frequently stopped by people greeting the multi-chrome man. You didn’t think too much of it because you were too busy trying to figure out why he actually wanted to keep talking to you.
Despite that, each person greeted Todoroki, complimented the party, and then curtly nodded at you. Of course, no one would want to talk to you or introduce themselves. You were a nobody. And you were sure you looked like a red mess with a glass of alcohol in your hand. If only they knew the redness was more for the man they were currently talking to.
By the time you made it to the table, the song had already changed again.
“You sure are popular,” You commented while maneuvering your dress to take a seat in the chair.
“Ah,” Todoroki began, “I am sorry I had to turn my attention away. I hope you understand.”
You smiled at the shy man in front of you. “Don’t apologize. I would kill to have had any of those people even know my name. I’m not the best publicly and I need a drink in me to really get me to start talking.”
Todoroki hummed in response. “I understand. I also find it hard to speak up sometimes. Although I am glad you had enough courage to speak to me tonight.” Cue the redness once again spreading across your face. “I’m enjoying our conversation.” Shouto looked up and smiled kindly at you.
To think the most handsome student from high school, the guy all your friends dreamed to be with even though they were two years younger, actually enjoyed talking to you? Impossible. You needed water. You really needed water.
Your mouth was dry and you were suddenly very hot despite your flowy dress.
“Are you okay?” Todoroki asked while observing your body language. You could tell he was about to go into hero mode.
“I’m fine,” You waved him off. “I think I just need some water.” You looked around the large hall in hopes of finding I tray with water on it.
Before you could spot one, Todoroki spoke up, “Allow me.” He grabbed your now empty champagne glass and filled it with ice. You used his opposite hand to slowly heat up the glass and melt the ice into water. He finished off by putting a few ice cubes back into the water to cool it down.
You graciously took the glass from him, surprised he would be willing to show off his quirk so easily in public. You took a sip of the rather refreshing water before thanking him.
“My pleasure,” He replied. There was a slight lull before Shouto spoke up once again. “So, please tell me more about this tragically horrible party.”
Laughter erupted from your stomach, not expecting him to ask you to complain more. “Hmm,” You mumbled, putting your chin in your hand in thought. “Well, the color scheme is tacky. Purples and golds are the classic color of royalty so whoever threw this party is pretty stuck up.”
“And what would you recommend?” Todoroki inquired.
Before you could really hold yourself back, each thought you had about this party began rushing out of your mouth. “Pale blue instead of purple, but keep the gold. Replace the seafood with more vegetable-based dishes. The egg tarts for dessert don’t even go with fish. You need something light like mousse. If they went with veggie dishes then I would have suggested elegant little cakes, like cupcakes, but smaller and less icing. It would help sober people up against all the drinking. Also! I haven’t even mentioned that they only have champagne! Jeez, they really should have white and red wine, especially white for the fish and red for the cake. Or whatever…” You faded out after realizing how long you had been babbling on.
“Sounds like you should be a party planner instead of a hero,” Shouto commented. You thought he may be trying to tease you, but the plain look on his face made him seem quite serious.
“Maybe,” You sighed, “It’s not like I’m doing very well as a hero. I hate all this politics and rating stuff.”
Shouto hummed in response. “Don’t dwell on sadness when you have a horrible party to complain about.”
“You actually like to hear me complaining?” You asked, quirking your eyebrows.
Todoroki simply nodded and motioned for you to continue.
“Okay,” You looked around the large hall. “Not to be too nitpicky, but this party is just boring. No one has gone on the stage to say anything. No one is dancing. Should people even be dancing? Or maybe I’m missing something. Who am I to say? This is my first hero gala.” You shrugged your shoulders sheepishly smiled. You were sobering up enough to know you were embarrassing yourself, but not enough to actually stop yourself from babbling.
Regardless, it seemed Todoroki actually liked listening to you complain.
The attentiveness made you all the more aware of everything. You suddenly felt sweat on the back of your neck. “Maybe I should just leave,” You mumbled to yourself, getting a little too frazzled as Todoroki’s attention.
“Are you not feeling well?” He questioned, perking up slightly.
“No,” You began, “It’s just that this party is so utterly boring--”
“Y/N-chan,” Mom called a few feet away. “I’m so sorry I lost you!”
You sheepishly smiled, too kind to tell her off. “It’s okay, I’ve had great company,” You explained while motioning to Todoroki.
“Ah, of course! Hello again, Shouto-san,” She greeted while politely shaking his hand. “You know, Y/N-kun, it is very unlike you to befriend people so easily at parties nevertheless the host of the party.”
It took you a moment to register what she said.
In fact, you almost started talking before shutting your mouth after realizing just what Yaomomo said.
Todoroki Shouto is the host of the party.
The party you have been bad-mouthing for the past half an hour.
“I-uh-I,” You babbled, unsure how to approach such a sensitive topic.
Before you had a chance, Todoroki stood up and buttoned up his velvet blazer. “Although I would love to stay and chat, I must make an announcement.” He politely bowed, which you and Momo returned, before he made his way to the stage.
“Y/N-kun, are you okay?” Momo asked, “You look a bit pale.”
You looked at your kindred friend and gulped down the lump in your throat. Momo always wanted to help you, so maybe she could help you now. “I have spent the last half hour with Todoroki talking about how boring and badly planned this party is,” You recalled.
“Oh no,” Momo whispered.
“Oh yes.”
The mic clicked and Todoroki began a short and sweet speech. He thanked everyone who came and started discusses why he planned this gala. It was something about charity, but you were lost in your own world.
“What do I do, Momo-san?” You pleaded, hoping your mentor would have some insight into the popular hero.
“I’m surprised he didn’t stop you, honestly,” She debated, her hand holding her chin in thought.
“That’s just the thing,” You hissed, “He asked me to keep going. It was like he thought it was entertaining.”
Momo hummed. “Well,” She started, “Shouto has never liked parties like these so that may be true. I bet his manager made him throw this party.”
“Do you think he hates me?” You asked, worried for your life. You had made only one new connection during this party and it may as well have been a new enemy.
Momo chuckled lightly. “Todoroki has a short list of people he hates and you are nowhere near it. Don’t stress, Y/N-kun.”
“Either way,” You mumbled while standing up, “I think I should leave. I am not in the right mind to deal with something so embarrassing.”
“Are you sure?” Momo asked.
You sighed and nodded, “I’ll just call a taxi.”
“No need,” Momo stopped you. “My chauffeur can drop you off and come back later for me.”
And so, you walked out to wait for the small car to arrive. You gingerly sat while you were driven to your small apartment. When you got home, you immediately dawned on a much comfier outfit and washed your face free of the cakey makeup you had been wearing.
During this time, you ran over your interaction with Todoroki. Overall, you were sure he didn’t hate you. However, you were much too nervous to ever talk to him again. Not like you got his phone number anyways.
You got into bed and pulled your laptop to you to put on a comforting video. It was barely 10 pm, but you were ready for this night to be over.
As you let your mind run free of your concerns, you heard a small ding of your phone. You snatched it from the side of your bed, remembering you forgot to text Momo that you got home safe. However, when you clicked on the screen, and unfamiliar number flashed before your eyes.
Momo said you needed to leave early, which is a shame. I enjoyed our conversation tonight. Shall we pick it up over dinner? -Todoroki Shouto
#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#mha#todoroki#todoroki shouto#todoroki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#shouto x reader#momo#momo yaoyorozu
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Honestly, I cannot say enough about my german study abroad program, in no small part because the people i met through it were the wildest bunch i have ever met. We had:
Me, a cursed American stumbling through increasingly unlikely and unfortunate situations, including:
getting arrested and hauled off in a cop car for the serious crime of not transcribing the five digit number printed on the back of my bus ticket onto the front of my bus ticket
slipping on dog poop on a crowded street while running late for class (leading a number of tourists to run over and photograph me in my undignified heap on the cobblestones) only to suffer one final indignity when i had to leave my poop shoe out in the hall outside the classroom, and subsequently discovered after class that it had been (correctly) identified as garbage by the custodian, and had been disposed of
spending the entire month of November with essentially no money after a bank error caused me to be cut off from my US checking account, thereby forcing me to figure out how to survive by my wits alone in a series of schemes, cons, and 1€ sausages
burning my thumb so badly on an oven in an attempt to make the world’s worst stuffing for the world’s saddest expat thanksgiving that my friends all had an intervention where they gave me a single black glove to wear because it was grossing them all out.
Enough about me. There were also my closest friends:
L , a horrendously wealthy New Englander who would drop lines in her stories like “so we were all smoking opium in my parents library,” and, “so every time my room gets too dirty, i just move to the next one down until the whole wing is filthy.” In spite of everything I’ve just said, she was also a genuinely good and incredibly fearless person who would throw fists without hesitation if she thought anyone was insulting her friends. She had a weird sexual relationship with her obscenely wealthy family friend in Frankfurt, which the rest of us suspected maybe been part of a business deal that their parents arranged at birth. It was better than Game of Thrones, honestly.
Y, a four foot tall Puerto Rican that I met when we were both walking down the street kind of near each other and some wild impulse called me to say to her, without so much as an introduction, “Yeah, you walk pretty cool, but if you wanna walk REAL cool, you gotta do it like thissssss,” while kinda lunging around. Just as inexplicably, she chose to continue talking to me, and several months later the two of us ended up making a harrowing 2:00 am escape from the private bar of a frat house that we had suddenly noticed had an awful lot of Nazi memorabilia on the walls for a frat located in a country that had criminalized the display of Nazi symbols. “Why are you leaving?” The frat-nazis complained as we bolted. “You will come back tomorrow afternoon for the barbecue, ja?” “Ahahhahaha nein fucking way, motherfucker,” Y muttered under her breath as we smiled and nodded politely all the way out the private garden, through the enormous iron gates, and out into the night. Once we were in the clear, we stared at each other, shaken, until Y broke the silence. “Welp. Those guys were Nazis. That actually just happened. I can’t.... man, I dunno, i’m still processing, let’s just go get some fucking falafel.”
We did.
S, the Australian, who one time invited me over to her apartment, opened the fridge, grabbed a plate of cheese, shoved it under my nose while going “HERE SMELL THIS!” and while i lurched away, gagging, cheerfully added “IT’S REALLY FOUL, RIGHT? ONE OF THE WOST THINGS I’VE EVER SMELLED!!” She was also absolutely obsessed with High School Musical, and was very disappointed every time the Americans shattered one of her illusions about the US public school system.
K, the girl from New Zealand, who had broken up with her serious boyfriend shortly before leaving for Germany, causing her to mourn his loss every time she got drunk by describing his penis with increasingly strange metaphors, such as “like a big wax candle but part of it’s gone,” and “like one leg off a spider.”
So, i had a pretty solid crew of five big weirdos. But there were, naturally, more people than the five of us in our program. For example:
R, from Minnesota, who dressed like she was about 72 and glared at anyone who was laughing too loudly near her because “i just don’t think jokes are funny.” More importantly, she would post facebook videos of herself reciting, entirely sincerely and in a steady monotone, the worst fucking poems that I have ever heard. She posted them under a pen name that was along the same lines as “the lyrical falcon.” She was in a feud with not one but two poetry clubs at her christian college, and while she never admitted this, all evidence suggested that it was because they both kicked her out. She was the Tommy Wisseau of poems. They were so bad they looped back around to good. Also, one time on the train she told me that she liked to think that she was a very good kisser because she played the french horn so she had strong mouth muscles. when i finally recovered from the mortal blow that she just delivered my soul, I asked her if she blew into people when she kissed them, and she got so insulted that she blocked me from her facebook poetry page. let me back in, R. please, if you’re reading this, let me back in.
They’re good poems, R.
Zoolander, from Pennsylvania, who was so, so handsome, but so, so, so dumb. One time he told me about this dream he had, and it was just an entire episode of Dexter’s lab. No changes or anything, he just... dreamed that he was watching that episode, and then the whole thing played in his head until it was done. He said it was the best dream he’d ever had. I once watched him pick up the same coin off the street four times because he couldn’t figure out that his pocket had a hole in it. When he noticed me, he said excitedly “Somebody left money everywhere!”
Juan, who constantly confused all the kids from Spain who went up to talk to him in their native tongue, only to discover that he was a very sarcastic man from Liverpool who didn’t speak a word of Spanish and was sick of everyone trying to bond with him. He only liked the Americans, because that’s where the tv show Family Guy was from, and only the Americans liked him, because we tend to like surly british assholes for basically no reason. At the end of the program while we were all saying our goodbyes, he came up to me, looking really upset. “I can’t believe it,” He said, uncharacteristically serious. “I can’t believe it’s all over and i’ll never...” He looked like he was about to cry.
“Oh, dude, we can keep in touch on facebook or something?” I fumbled. He blinked.
“What? No, no, ugh, it’s just the last day of the program and I’ve LOST MY FOOKIN SCARF!” he roared.
God, I know this is weird, but I still really miss that guy.
The Croatian: There was a dude from Croatia in my apartment building who outright refused to tell me his name, because, “It’s an embarrassing word in English. You’d laugh.” I badgered him for five months, until finally, his defenses down, after many earnest promises that no matter what his name was, I would not laugh, he relented.
“My name is Tin.” He said sheepishly.
His name was fucking Tin.
Beardy, Beardo, Redbeard, and Weirdbeard: four drastically different young men from all across our beautiful planet who had one thing in common: thinking that they’d try out a beard while they were abroad. We always admired them from a distance, and compared their beards’ various unique and bad properties, until one day Beardy (who was australian and had developed a sort of flesh colored goatee) walked up to S, his countryman, in a club. “DO YOU WANT TO DANCE?” he yelled, trying to get her attention, but she was in a dance-off with K, and didn’t notice, so he tapped her shoulder. She whirled around, startled, and upon recognizing him, said without thinking, “OH, HI BEARDY!”
The song faded out.
Beardy stared at S.
“...Did you just call me ‘Beardy?’” he asked quietly. S looked like a deer in the headlights. She glanced towards me, hoping for an out, but I, dear reader, was laughing too hard to be of any use.
“You did,” he went on, “you called me ‘Beardy!’ Why!?”
“Cuz of your beard, probably. That’s a better name for you than Josh.” Zoolander interjected from out of nowhere, strolling out of the club, a beautiful woman on each arm.
“My name isn’t Josh...” Beardy tried to call after him.
“Who’s name isn’t Josh? Oh! Beardy!” A drunk K could be heard deducing from the back of the room.
He shaved it a week later, but the damage was done. He was Beardy for the rest of the semester.
When I look back on that period of my life now, I can’t help but reflect - with the clarity one only gets from experience - that my time in Germany was not as weird as I thought it was at the time. I lacked the perspective to see that it was all, actually, absolutely bonkers batshit nuts. It was some sitcom shit.
All in all, I highly recommend it.
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There’s Only Us Left Now
An update two days in a row? Wow, there really is something wrong with me lol.
I’m feeling slightly better after taking the morning to just take care of myself. I got the haircut that I’ve needed since like before covid started. I got my oil change that needed to be change since June. And I went to Ulta and got a new eye shadow pallete and Old Navy for some flannels. Now I’m going to eat my Taco Bell and get back into writing this!
Thanks again to those who are still reading this <3 This chapters a little shorter than what I usually write but I wanted to show stuff from Tim’s POV.
I Had a Dream I Was a Vigilante’s Side Kick pt. 4
Tim Drake was a considerably patient kid as having patience was a requirement in his family. Having strong shoulders was another one as the amount of bullshit his father piled onto them would overwhelm the average fifteen year old. Tim wasn’t the strongest but up until now he was pretty damned sure that he was strong enough to deal with it.
He ran his hands through his hair again. His back still leaned against his bedroom door that separated him from the living room. The conversation he could hear from the opposing side was going just as badly as the one he had yesterday with Halley Wilson had gone. He closed his eyes when he heard his father’s grunt and the sound of him being hit in the gut.
Okay, maybe it was going worse.
Tim wanted to step out and help his father but he wasn’t an idiot. Oswald Cobblepot’s cronies, as thick headed as they were, could easily make Tim regret any stand of rebellion. That was why he banked all his cards into the famed batfamily. They could give him the skills he needed to protect his family from the consequences of his father’s life choices. He would’ve been able to stop this.
He knew he could’ve simply asked for help but what would they really have done? Batman wasn’t the Batman he once was. Like he had told Halley, he was darker, more brutal as he fought. Tim grew up idolizing the hero and like any kid in Gotham wanted to be the next Robin. But unlike all those other kids Tim was fit for the job.
Hell he had figured out that Bruce Wayne was Batman. He found out all of their identities. Tim knew how to track them down and where to find them. He’d tailed Halley for weeks without her noticing him. She was supposed to be his ticket in. He failed of course. He knew his chances of actually getting her on his side were slim but he thought he’d get further than he had. At the time, he was unaware the details but he knew there had to be some big reason for her to quit being Nightshade. He was naïve to think he could get her back into the game with him tagging along.
“He died because of the Joker.” Halley’s words echoed in his head as he heard his father let out another grunt. Tim knew that there was a risk being Batman’s sidekick and he had a hunch that the whole skiing accident story about Jason Todd was in fact just a story and held no real truth.
Tim pulled away from the door quiet as to not alert the goons invading his house that he was home. His dad was a screw up that much Tim knew but like Tim he wasn’t an idiot. He made idiotic decisions like taking out a loan with the Penguin that he knew he wouldn’t be able to pay back but he wasn’t stupid. He was just desperate; he was desperate to save his failing business and make a better life for his family. Tim could relate trying to rake through his mind for a solution for his failed attempt yesterday.
He made his way to his balcony. They only lived on the third floor and the climb down by the fire escape wasn’t that hard. He could go try again. Maybe explain his situation better. Maybe Halley would put the cape and mask back on just to help him take down Penguin? No, she wouldn’t. But if he had to deduce anything he’d be pretty confident in saying that she told the other me members of the batfamily about him knowing their secret. He could use that to go straight to Batman. The taxi ride out to Wayne Manor wasn’t the worst. It was only a little more expansive than boy could afford right now but it could possibly be worth it.
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he looked out at the streets below him. Would it be worth it though? His father got them in too deep with one of the biggest crime bosses of Gotham. Batman would just slap him around a bit and then send him to Arkham in which Cobblepot would just live out his sentence in luxury until he was let out. His family would still be indebted with him and in trouble when he got out. And he would get out; he always got out.
Tim’s eyes lit with a spark an idea flashing across his mind. He was either a genius or he was either insane. Beyond insane, he decided to himself before softly rushing back into his room, but extremely genius.
He stood still hearing the intruders bidding farewell too his father with a demand for him to make sure he can pay up at their next visit. Tim looked down knowing his dad was most likely making his way to the bathroom to lick his wounds before his mother caught home from work. Unlike his mother, Tim wasn’t kept in the dark from his father’s misfortune, having caught his father during another one of his meetings some time ago.
Once Tim heard the front door be locked and the bathroom door close, he picked up his step and made his way to his desk. He opened up his laptop, logging in and setting himself off to work. His fingers typed furiously, his eyes flickered across the screen and his mind was pushed the farthest it had ever been pushed. Tim was great with computers. So great that he was able to not only use it to track down Halley but when he was first learning how to hack he had been able to award himself a full scholarship to Gotham Academy.
Tim was smart enough to get in but his guidance counselor never got around to submitting his application in time. You gotta love Gotham’s amazing public school system, Tim huffed, remembering how little the counselor cared about her delay. And it wasn’t like Tim’s parents could really afford to send him themselves right now. Maybe a couple of years ago when his father had just begun stepping into the higher class of Gotham. But that was before he made a couple of bad deals that lead them to where they were now.
The fifteen year old cracked his knuckles the time passing by quickly as he continued to work. The sun setting and then rising didn’t faze him. He was done by the time he was supposed to be waking up and getting ready for school. He smirked as he closed the laptop knowing his work was done. He had managed to do exactly what Batman failed to do. He finally found a way to take Oswald Cobblepot down for good.
The smug smile he wore from the moment he closed his laptop to the moment he walked to school and to the moment he sat in the library alone during lunch never faded. He was already the weird, poor, outcasted kid in the school but he didn’t care if the twisted smile he had on helped his case or not. He was happy; he stuck it right where it hurt. Oswald deserved everything Tim did last night.
He jingled his house keys, a certain pep in his step as he walked down the hallway to his apartment. His book bag slung over his shoulder, the day going by as quick as a breeze. He wanted to tell his dad what he did but he knew that it was a secret he was meant to keep. He hummed to himself as he opened the door to the apartment.
For the first time since it appeared, the self-righteous look on his face was torn right off. His eyes scanned around the kitchen, the open dining area shown off as well. His eyes nearly blew out of his skull as he saw the disarray the rooms were in. The side table where they all left their keys and mail was knocked over as if someone was pushed into it in some sort of scuffle. The dining room table was top side as well one of the chair broken and tossed off to the side.
He felt his heart stop quietly closing the door behind him and ignoring every instinct to run away. He could hear soft sobs. They sounded like his mother. Oh no, he thought dreadfully. There was no way Cobblepot knew it was him. There was no way. Tim used every form of protection he had. He used firewall after firewall, decoy vpn after decoy vpn. Tim was so sure he was careful. And if he knew how did he find out so quickly?
“Mom?” he called out, his voice shaking. On his way to the living room, where the sound of her cries were coming from, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed the first thing he could find. It was a frying pan but it would do. “Mom.” He called out again stepping over one of the chairs on the floor.
“Mom!” He called out when he got sight of her. She sat on the couch, her head in her hands and shoulders shaking. The small living room was just as a mess as the first half of the house. Tim crouched down in front of her, resting a hand on her shoulders. “Are you okay? What happened?”
His mother raised her head, staring at her son with her tear reddened eyes. She choked out a sob before launching herself at him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Her words were hard to understand as she began to talk, but Tim knew what happened.
“They took your father! They wouldn’t tell me why! I don’t even know who they are. They just came in and did this,” She cried, releasing her son and motioned to the apartment. “They said if I called the cops they’d kill him. I don’t know what to do.”
Tim bit his lip knowing exactly what happened and who they were. He stood up heading out of the living room and to his room. His mother followed him still obviously shaken and didn’t know what her son was up too or why he looked so unsurprised. Tim took a quick peek at his desk. His fear was confirmed when he saw that it was missing. He cursed to himself. His mother always said Tim and his father were two peas in a pod but he never believed it until now.
“Mom,” he said placing both hands on her shoulder. “You need to get out of the city. Go to Gram’s house. I know who can help us but it’s not safe for you.”
“Excuse you?” the woman exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about? No, what I’m going to do is go to the police. It’s what I should’ve done.” She sniffled, wiping her face and moving to head to the phone in the kitchen.
Tim beat her too it, snatching it out of her hands and smashing it onto the floor and stomping on it. He rubbed his foot in it and looked up at her apologetically.
“Timothy!” She cried out.
“I’m sorry but don’t call them. They’re serious. They’ll kill Dad.” Tim explained as he began to back away. “Go to Gram’s.” He repeated before making a dash to the front door and bolting out of the apartment before his mother could stop him.
He ignored her screaming after him and raced out and onto the streets of Gotham. He pushed past people, shouting out apologies. His breath was heavy as he ran making his way in desperation to Gotham University.
#Tim Drake#tim drake fanfic#tim drake fanfiction#tim drake x oc#tim drake x sister#tim drake x batsis#batsiblings#Batsis#bruce wayne x batsis#batsis x batfam#batfam x batsis#dick grayson#dick grayson x oc#dick grayson fanfic#dick grayson daughter#bruce wayne fanfiction#batman#batman fanfiction#batman x oc#Jason Todd#jason todd robin#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x original character#jason todd x oc#slade wilson daughter#dc comics oc#dc comics fanfic
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Scarred (Hawks x Reader)
Trigger warning: There is a brief scene of mild torture(?) due to a villain attack and some mentions of blood. Please proceed with caution.
Synopsis: You get attacked by the Hero Killer stain and in the aftermath a feathered friend comes to your aid.
Heroes always look so glamorous. You save the day, everyone loves you, and you get paid. Simple, right? That’s what the media loved to show the public, civilians and aspiring heroes alike. When in reality…it’s never that simple…People lose their lives, children are left alone, and lives are ruined nearly every day. Not just by villains, but reckless heroes and nature just giving us a vibe check. When you officially became a sidekick, you made it your mission to not just save a person in the moment. You vowed to ensure they would be able to move on. Now, you are standing in front of the first safe house for people who survived disaster.
“[Hero name], How do you feel now that your big project is officially complete?!” A reporter calls out to you as you marvel at the new building.
“Who said I was done?” You flash a big smile; you can’t hide the glee you feel that your dreams are getting put into motion. The media clamors over themselves to get a picture or statement and while the attention is nice, you don’t want to take away from the reason you did this. “I plan to open so many more of these shelters for those who are forced to rebuild their lives after a disaster. I wanted a safe place for men, women, and children to go and find comfort until their lives can get back on track.”
“What if people abuse the system?!” You snap your head to face the reporter who asked such a question. Others pause in their actions as they wait to hear your answer. “What’s to stop people from just staying in the shelter forever?”
“My shelter is not just for housing, it offers therapy, guidance, and even provides opportunity for those who struggle to find work. People need time to heal and I intend to provide them the tools to do so.” This shuts the man down and everyone is pushing forward to try and get more information. “If you wish to learn more, the website is up and there is always a link available on the page of my agency.”
“You heard them, no more questions!” One of your side kicks suddenly appears and helps pave a way through the crowd. You leave the ceremony and rush back to the agency to get the work day officially started. A couple of your hero friends requested your assistance in the ongoing investigation on the recent attacks supposedly done by the Hero Killer Stain. You get in touch with them and agree on a meeting place, leaving the confines of your agency with a swift goodbye to your sidekicks. You take in a deep breath and appreciate the nice weather as you run to meet with the others. Your quirk isn’t very useful in a fight, but you’ve lost count of the amount of people you’ve been able to save and protect in disasters and big fights. This is a big reason why you often jump at the chance to pair up with other heroes who are more fighting types.
As you continue to hurry towards your destination, you notice some civilians check over their shoulders in a very obvious manner, before scurrying into an alleyway a couple blocks ahead of you. You slow your steps as you approach the entrance and listen closely to confirm your budding suspicions. “You got the goods?”
“Of course I’ve got them, don’t flash that shit around here! We are still in the open!” You peer around the corner and count out the amount of shady dealers involved.
“6? I’m grossly outnumbered…the others should be at the rendezvous now. If I’m quick, I can grab them and come back to put a stop to this.” You take a slight detour to avoid their line of sight and go down a different alleyway. You round a corner and feel a sharp pain hit you shoulder. You don’t have time to react as a second impact sends you to the ground.
“Heroes like you make me positively sick,” your body freezes completely as a growling voice speaks near your ear. “You claim to care about those around you and even open up shelters for the aftermath of villains…yet you turn tail and run when given an opportunity to prevent a crime.” You can’t move, it’s like you’ve been paralyzed completely. “I wasn’t planning to kill today, but I think I’ll make an exception for trash like you.” You feel the need throw up with the amount of fear in your body. The knife in your shoulder gets yanked out and immediately dragged slowly down your back just left of your spine. You can’t even find it in you to scream from all the pain. Your uniform quickly soaks in the blood and turns the material dark. It’s a sick miracle that you’re still conscious. He starts to cut wildly and at random all along your back and limbs, you try to move even an inch, but you are truly paralyzed. You start to disassociate from the situation, try to calm yourself and think of a means to escape this. You are immediately brought back when he jams the blade into your side. You finally find your voice as you cry out loudly in pain, he quickly covers your mouth to prevent any more screams. “Damn that wasn’t deep enough, let’s try that again.” He grabs a fresh blade from his arsenal when a familiar figure drop kicks the killer off of you. It’s the heroes you were trying to meet with. They must have heard that last scream. Two of them fight the Hero killer away as a third party looms over you, feathers fluttering around you.
“Don’t worry kid, I got you,” Hawks effortlessly lifts you off the cold ground. The blood loss catches up to you and your consciousness fades to black.
When you wake, you can tell you are in a hospital. You feel like shit and it’s as if your body is on fire. You are also nauseous, though you doubt there is anything in your stomach to lose at the moment. You can hear some rustling and what feels like a gloved hand taking yours. You try to will your eyes back open, but you end up going back into the void for a bit longer. You aren’t sure how long you are left floating in that endless sea of black, but when you do finally wake fully it’s just as dark outside. At least now, you feel a little less like death.
You try to move your fingers, your right hand is feeling a bit numb and your left is in something. You feel incredibly stiff and in all honestly it's hard to move. You manage to get your head up and find someone holding your left hand. It’s hard to tell who until you blink away the blurriness and find it’s Stain. You feel panic overcome your heavy body and try your hardest to move, it’s hopeless. Right as his knife flashes before your eyes, you wake up and start fighting against the doctors trying to help you. “Please calm down, you are not in danger!” Your quirk nearly activates when you finally realize Stain is not there. You relax a little and your heart monitor stops freaking out, they check your vitals and inform you that Recovery Girl paid a visit to repay you for all your nonmedical visits to her office during school to bring flowers to brighten up the room.
They release you from the hospital the next day with some bandages still wrapped around your arms and underneath your shirt. You are in civilian clothes now and poor hair was butchered from the frenzy in the alley and the doctors trying to operate. You don’t really have a hair stylist and the only person you know who is decent with shorter hair is Best Jeanist. You call him up and he happily accepts the challenge to fix your hair. You don’t know if everyone knows about the attack, or if they managed to put Stain away. You feel a surge of fear jolt through you and the hairs on the back of your neck raise at the mere thought of his name. You flag a cab and reach the agency of Best Jeanist in no time. He meets you at the door and is quick to get started on fixing the gross state of your locks.
“Did they do anything for you while you were comatose?” He looks disgusted as he starts clipping away some tangles that are too far gone.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing…” You watch in the mirror as he cuts your hair to the shortest length it’s ever been.
“When I heard the Hero Killer attacked you, I honestly couldn’t believe it. You have always embodied the essence of a hero, why would he target you?” You tell him the events prior to the attack, “that doesn’t make you any less of a hero. You recognized your weak points and made the best decision in the moment.” You feel a slight pain in your stomach at the word weak.
“Yeah…” He finishes up his handy work and lets you loose. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing, you’ve been through a lot. Go home and get some rest and we’ll call it even.” He smiles with his eyes and you thank him for his help. You go to your apartment and text your hero friends that you are out of the hospital and would be taking it easy for the time being. They all send some form of support and words of comfort as you go to shower. Before you enter the shower, you inspect the damage on your back in the mirror. Thanks to recovery girl, your back doesn’t resemble that of an old cutting board. There is one long scar from where he dragged his knife down the length of your back, one from where his knife entered your shoulder and one on your side from where he attempted to complete a finishing blow. As you wash you body and feel the scarred tissue, you feel sick. Your mind floods with the memories of the attack, the residual fear is enough to make your body tremble. You nearly drop to your knees when you hear a strange thud come from the other room. The residual fear morphs into sheer terror. Did the hero killer find you? You leave the water running and exit the shower quietly. You wrap your towel tightly around your figure and grab something hefty to throw at the possible intruder. As you open your bathroom door, you can hear someone rummaging through something. You squeeze the object in your hand, run out of the bathroom, and chuck it at the intruder.
“Ah!” You watch as a bunch of feathers explode out and knock the object away. “Uh…hi?”
“Hawks?!” The feathers part to reveal the winged hero holding some of your leftover chicken. “When…What?!”
He chuckles sheepishly, “Sorry about that kid, I wanted to check on you and since you were in the shower and I was hungry…” You sigh, mostly in relief, and shake your head. “Nice towel.” You are reminded of your current ‘attire’ and run back to the bathroom to finish your shower. You get dressed in your pajamas and return to the kitchen drying your hair out. “Feel better?”
“I guess,” You snagged a piece of the leftovers he pulled out and sat on a barstool. Hawks has been friends with you for a couple of years, you’ve worked together a few times in the past, but this is the first time he has been over to your apartment. “How did you find-”
“How did I find this place? I saw you walking home from work once while on patrol.” He shrugs as if it was a common occurrence. “Don’t worry, I know you value your privacy. No one knows I’m here.”
“You sure?” You nibble the chicken slowly; your appetite was lacking despite being out for a few days.
“Positive, why?”
“Just checking.” You put the food down and stare at it.
“Kid-” You gave him a look reminding him you didn’t like being called that. “you need to eat more than that.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He clearly doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it. He instead drops an overnight bag on the floor and goes to look for your spare bedding for the couch. “Hope you don’t mind, but I need a place to crash for a few days while my house gets fumigated. Guess some bugs hitched a ride in my wings and while I was out for a long assignment they took over. I would’ve asked, but you were kind of unconscious and everyone else already turned me down.”
“I don’t mind, just pick up after yourself and keep your feathers out of my stuff.” You put the chicken away and go into your room to get some sleep, but you find it impossible to relax. You keep seeing the hero killer silhouette in your window, watching…waiting…you give up after an hour, grab a notebook, and just try to work up a plan when you get back to work. If you get back to work.
After another hour, your door opens to reveal your new temporary roommate in sweatpants and no shirt. “Hey, what are you doing awake?” He saunters in and plops onto the edge of the bed.
“Couldn’t sleep, got a lot on my mind.”
“Still having nightmares?” You raise a brow at him, silently asking him to explain. “In the hospital you were mumbling in your sleep.”
“You visited me in the hospital?”
“Yeah, a lot of people came by. We were worried about you.” That was comforting, “you didn’t answer my question.”
You sigh and fidget with your pen, “yeah, I’ve been having nightmares…it’s like I can see him watching me…waiting for me to let my guard down and finish the job…” You feel your body tremble. You can still see the malice in his eyes as if he was in front of you. A soft, feathery touch brushes your arm as the winged hero moves closer to you. He removes your book from your grasp, tosses it onto your bed side table and wraps one arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him. “I hate feeling so weak,” repressed tears fall as the man holds you close.
“It’s okay to feel scared, no one expects you to bounce back immediately.”
“Bullshit, we both know people expect us to be unshakable and charge into everything head on.” He scoffs, “am I wrong?”
“Just because people expect you to be brave doesn’t make your fear any less real.” He shifts to wrap his other arm loosely around your waist. He half pulls you into his lap as you start to calm down. “It’s okay to lean on people.”
“I lean on people all the time…if anything I should be working harder to stand on my own.”
“You do realize part of your appeal is how well you support other heroes,” he pulls his phone up and shows article after article talking about how adaptable you are and how great it is to see such teamwork nowadays. “You don’t have to stand alone; I think we forget that there is strength in numbers.”
You find some solace in what he said, “I didn’t say I wanted to stand alone…” You can feel the vibration in his chest as he chuckles.
“I know, but you know what I mean.” He rests his cheek on the top of your head. “I’m trying to not so subtly tell you to lean on me from time to time.”
You feel your cheeks grow warm, “I…I suppose I could do that.” He flops over and shifts the two of you so he is a big spoon and you are a little spoon.
“Get some rest hummingbird, I won’t let that bastard near you.”
“Hummingbird?”
“I’ve been wanting to use that one since you hum while you work, but I enjoyed the look you made when I called you kid.” You lightly elbow him and chuckle. “Seriously though, get some rest…we both need it.” You let your eyes slide shut and it was surprisingly comforting to have his arms around you. Maybe you’ll invite him to be your permanent roommate.
#reader insert#one shot#hawks x reader#keigo x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#pro hero hawks#keigo takami#hawks#angsty fluff#trigger warning
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Ragged Angels
chapter 2 is up! writing this for anon (sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted lovely)
read below or on archive!
wc: 2.5k, warnings: light torture, other tags: angst, pining, torture, mafia au, age difference, husbands, established relationship
Dean woke up and immediately wished he could go back to sleep. His jaw ached, and when he tried to shift it there was a sharp pop so he decided to let it be. Rope scratched against his tied hands, and he struggled to shrug his shoulder against the bindings and ease some of the tension wracking him.
He heard footsteps behind him as he looked around, trying to get his bearings as quickly as possible. A bright fluorescent light hung from the ceiling and he squinted at it, quickly averting his eyes. He knew Cas had a few places like this, but he never pressed him for details. He figured it would be safer for both of them.
The footsteps came to a halt and Dean resisted the urge to turn his head to see who had entered the room behind him.
“Dean Winchester.” It was the same voice from the alley. What had Cas called him? Crowley?
“Crowley,” he said, fighting to keep his voice even. Getting jumped in the alley had been one thing. He’d reacted instinctively, immediately reverting to who he’d been all those years ago. But now the pressure was more drawn out, his nerves stretched to the extreme. And adrenaline wasn’t gonna cut it.
“So Castiel is really shacking up, huh? With a little twink too.”
Dean bit his tongue and stared straight ahead as Crowley moved around to stand in front of him.
“How old are you, boy?”
Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked. His heart was starting to pound less fervently against his rib cage and he felt in control again. “Nine and a half,” he said with a wink.
He saw the fist coming, but he didn’t dodge it. He just steeled himself as it slammed into his right cheek, managing to stop himself from flinching entirely.
“Oh, Dean.” Crowley’s voice was surprisingly calm for the anger that seemed to roll off of him in waves. “We know everything about you. Your father beat you until he died of alcohol poisoning. You bounced around in the system. The only family you really had in high school was a dirty street gang. A school counselor helped you clean your act up and you got off drugs, went to school, got into non-profit public relations. Quite the success story, really.”
“Ever get tired of the sound of your own voice?” Dean said, licking his lips.
“Not really,” Crowley said smoothly. “And after all that, after you made something of yourself, got off the streets and started making a, what would they call it… a positive impact on the world…” He trailed off, snorting and looking Dean up and down. Dean scowled back at him, but let a cold smile slip onto his face before Crowley went on. “After all that you fucked a Don.”
“Jealous?”
Crowley pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the back of his hands before tucking it neatly back into his pocket. “We don’t need anything from you, Dean. Not really. I mean, eventually, we’ll kill you.” He chuckled softly and stepped forward, grabbing Dean’s bruised jaw and turning him so their eyes met. “But I need to get Castiel here first. I want to have him watch the life drain from your eyes, watch you beg for mercy.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t beg.”
Crowley released the hand from his jaw and patted his cheek twice. “Sure, darling. And after your guts,” he spat the word, almost like it offended him, “are spilled all over the floor… then I’ll Castiel, and damn all the retribution that will come with it.”
“Why?” Dean considered his next words, knowing he’d probably get more than a punch to the face for them, but decided he was here anyway and he might as well enjoy it. Dean grinned up at Crowley and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Because Cas killed your kid? I bet he enjoyed it, too. Bet he took his time, did it real slow.” The thought made him cringe, because he knew Cas wasn’t like that. He was a killer, sure. But he didn’t enjoy it. Still, it was worth saying it to see the look on Crowley’s face.
His jaw went slack and his eyes widened just a little. It seemed like an eternity, waiting for him to respond. Waiting for a finger to get cut off, an eye to be taken out, a vein to be cut. But Crowley just stood there, his eyes cold and empty.
Eventually, he stepped forward, slamming his fist into Dean’s jaw one more time. Dean felt his mouth fill up with blood, and he spat the metallic liquid out toward Crowley.
Crowley took a deep breath and looked him and up and down, his face a mask of disgust. “I’ll leave you for Stella,” he said quietly. Then he walked from the room, each step slow and deliberate.
Dean waited for the footsteps to fade completely before jerking his hands against the ropes. They were tight, professional. But they were also rope, which meant he should be able to get out of them given time. He wondered briefly why they didn’t use zip ties or even handcuffs, then he turned his attention back to the task.
It hurt like hell. His wrists were already rubbed raw and his shoulders were tight from being held back at that angle. And on top of that, his jaw was throbbing from the blows and the confrontation in the alley.
Part of him wondered if Crowley had a point. He’d gotten away from the rough side of the city. Had made something of himself despite what everyone thought. Was happy, was helping people. And now he was here.
He didn’t blame Cas, he’d gotten involved with this, and he knew full well what the risks were. He’d chosen Cas. Or, really, Cas had chosen him. He might play the tough guy to everyone else, but both he and Cas had no confusion over who was in charge. He belonged to Cas. He had to belong to Cas so fuck any consequences that came with it.
He shivered a little and turned his attention back to the ropes cutting into his skin. After a minute, he started to feel the bonds loosen a little. Before he could slip a hand out the echoes of footsteps once again made him freeze. These were different though, lighter. He twisted his fingers painfully upward to grab the slack rope and make it look tight, and then straightened his shoulders, sitting still.
His new visitor entered the room slowly, as if waiting for Dean to turn his head. When she finally entered his field of vision he felt white hot anger course through him. It was the girl from the alley. Stella, apparently.
“You’re the bitch who attacked Cas,” he spat.
“In the flesh.” She said it flatly, without any sass or attitude. And that only served to make Dean’s skin crawl more.
He sneered up at her, trying to gauge how closely she was paying attention. Then he tried to decide how quickly he could get a hand free and strangle her. Probably not fast enough.
“Mr. Delfino wants you to be more bloodied up when your boyfriend gets here,” she said, pulling a knife from inside her jacket, her face still completely blank.
“Husband,” Dean corrected automatically. Then he paused, frowning. “Crowley’s last name… is Delfino?” He snorted. “What was he adopted?”
“Yes,” she said with a shrug. Before he had time to respond, she pressed the knife into his cheek, dragging it slowly across to create a deep cut.
He grit his teeth together and breathed sharply through his nose. “So, you his daughter? That your brother that’s six feet under?”
She jammed the knife into his shoulder and left it there, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Crowley is my brother. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You were on the streets, you don’t know what family means. And then,” she stepped forward, taking the knife out before immediately jamming it back in, and Dean couldn’t stop the growl that escaped him. “And then you go and marry the man that somehow got to the top of a family he isn’t even a part of. A family he infiltrated and corrupted. One of the oldest, one of our allies.” She shook her head and stopped herself, seeming to realize Dean wasn’t saying anything, was just staring at her with pain coursing through his body.
Stella stepped back, taking the knife with her. She looked down at it thoughtfully, then tucked it back in her jacket. Dean vision was starting to go blurry on the edges but he tracked her eyes carefully. Her mask was starting to slip a little, and he could see the barely contained heat brimming under the cool surface.
He got his hands ready, letting go of the rope he was still holding tight around his wrists. “Well he’s dead. And he’s never coming back.” His jaw ached with every word, but it paid off. As soon as the words left his mouth her demeanor shifted completely. She narrowed her eyes and let out an almost feral growl before lunging forward, striking him across the face.
He grunted in pain and tried to stay focused as her fists struck him over and over. Everything went fuzzy and black, but he maintained a thin thread to reality. It wasn’t too hard when he pictured Cas’ eyes. Piercing blue cutting through the red hot pain.
He could almost hear his voice, low and soothing but radiating power. Focus, Dean. I’m here, but you have to focus for me.
So Dean let his head be whipped back and forth, his entire face swollen and bloody and bruised and his arms dripping blood. And he focused on his hands, on the rough rope coiling around them. He was so close now, to being completely free. The longer he strained against the constraints, the looser they felt around him.
He felt the exact moment they slipped to the floor. It was right as Stella delivered a forceful blow to the throbbing wound on his shoulder. He cried out, leaning forward. Then he sucked in a deep breath, focusing on Cas, only Cas.
Free of the rope, his hands came forward easily, but his motions were clumsy, pain clouding his thoughts. He clawed at her throat, pushing her back and throwing his whole weight on her. His only advantage here was brute strength and size.
She stumbled backward, the fury fading from her eyes and some of the reason returning. Her hand went for the knife in her jacket and he swatted it away, following up his advantage and landing on top of her, hands at her throat.
“Stop,” she gasped, her whole body straining against him. But he couldn’t, or he wouldn’t. His mind was just a red haze complete with high-pitched buzzing. He tightened his grip around her neck, the pain in his arms and on his face a dull throb in the background. The light in her eyes died slowly, and eventually she stopped thrashing.
Everything slowed down and he leaned back on his heels, panting. He took several deep breaths to steady himself and then forced himself onto his feet. With tired eyes, he stared down at her still body. He didn’t know if she was dead, or just passed out. He didn’t have time to care.
Some part of him whispered, This isn’t you. You help people now. But he pushed it back. He could help people a different day.
He pulled back his blood-soaked shirt from his shoulder and looked more closely at the wound. Neither cut was nearly as deep as he’d thought they were, and he rotated his shoulder a couple times, nothing there was a sharp stab each time, but he could still move it.
He didn’t even bother to touch his face. It was puffy and throbbing and it wasn’t going to get better. But he had to get out of here anyway. He turned and examined the rest of the room behind the chair where he’d been sitting. It was a warehouse, but it was cleaned up, almost clinical. There was a large double door that was propped open that led into a hallway nearly as brightly lit as the room he was standing in. Everything looked too perfect, too spotless, and the light just made every surface shine.
After his heart rate had dropped and his breathing evened out he walked to the doorway. He turned back to look at the room and saw Stella’s body lying there, completely still. The voice was stronger now, telling him to rush over to her, to take her pulse, to try to help.
He stood motionless, his inner voices battling it out, but then they faded completely and he sighed in defeat. He half-jogged to her side and knelt next to her.
The ground felt cold beneath his legs, and it seemed to dig into him as he reached out two fingers for her neck. He pressed them into the vein and waited, breathless. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a steady if somewhat weak beat against his fingers. He pushed himself up with his good arm and went to finally leave when suddenly her whole body seized.
Coughs racked her body and her arms flailed uselessly at her sides and her eyes flew open. They were filled with terror, but they fixed on him, met his gaze with desperation.
“Dammit,” he said under his breath. Stella’s arms pushed against the floor, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she struggled to push herself up. Cursing himself silently the whole time, he lifted her by the shoulders, letting her sit up straight and open her windpipe.
The coughs lasted a few more moments and he let her use him as a support, stopping her from falling to the ground.
When they finally stopped she looked up at him, tears thick on her face from the full-body coughs that had taken her over just moments before. “Fuck off,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
He shrugged and steeled himself. She was alive, she was okay. He stood and turned back to face the door, and his heart froze. Crowley and two of his men stood there. Crowley had his hands in his pockets, and there was a smirk on his face as he took the situation in.
“I was wondering what was taking so long,” he said softly.
Then he nodded to the men and they rushed forward, roughly grabbing Dean’s arms and pulling him to the floor.
He moved to fight, but he was exhausted. And a new bout of pain wracked his body as soon as they pulled at his injured arm. So he let himself be forced to the floor. Let himself submit as they knelt on his back, deciding his fate.
Silently, he prayed. It didn’t matter that his husband would never hear him, it was a comfort all the same.
Hurry up, Cas. Please. I need you.
tag list [as always, ask to be added or removed <3]:
@fandomstuff67 @menjiiii @vought @starlightcastiel @chaoticdean @larryforeveralways @starclaire @flowersforcas @tlakhtwritesdestiel @wanderingcas @prayedtoyou @good-things-do-happen-dean @jayus-fandom-writer @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @gmotheemo
#destiel fic#destiel fanfic#mafia au#destiel#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#spn fan fiction#deancas fic#my writing
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The True Story Of Maxwell’s Silver Hammer: on the limits of transparency, or why you should stop feeding your quarters into the dopamine slot machine
Gather round children, and I will tell you a tale. This story is a hundred percent true. It occurred sometime in my late twenties, which would have been in 2008 or thereabouts. I had just taken the biggest acid trip of my life, eight tabs, but of fairly weak acid, I’m guessing around 400 micrograms total or close enough. Still, it gave me exactly the experience I was looking for. We went to the beach, and as a good friend of mine used to say: “got gay with nature”. Everything had been building to this point. First we took one tab. Some weeks later: we doubled down and took two.. After another month had passed, we gobbled up a four strip. Eight tabs only seemed logical at this stage. And man…
It was exactly how you imagine acid is going to be when you’re a kid. Everything was beautiful and melting and there were colours I don’t even have the words for. The trees were full of fractals, the ground was a river flowing beneath my feet. The sky was bright green. The sand dunes: a brilliant purple. It was like that cheesy chroma-keying effect they used to use to represent drugs in old movies from the 60’s. I even nearly went blind staring at the sunset like some hokey old LSD urban legend. Getting gay with nature? This was a little more than merely getting high with one of your straight friends and perhaps sucking each others cocks and then never, ever mentioning it again, this was… I wanted to settle down with nature and build a whole new life together, I wanted to get married, buy a house, maybe even adopt a couple of children. Don’t laugh, this isn’t fucking funny. We were in love!
Anyhow, acid, drugs, beautiful uplifting experience yada-yada. The thing is, on acid you tend to get these… ideas. Crazy, completely off-the-wall, gorgeously bent ideas. And I had just had a real doozy of an acid thought. “Why lie? Why don’t I just be exactly who I am all the time? Why not be completely and utterly transparent with everyone?”. Now this is hardly some kind of grand cosmic revelation. I think that in most individuals this would have cumulated in a simple but genuine effort to be more honest with the people around them, or maybe simply faded with the trip, but in me…
So let me preface this with a couple of things about me that will make the following point make more sense: 1) I tend to take ideas and run with them, generally off a cliff 2) I am very good with computers. To the point where I am a professional hacker these days (as in I break into systems for a living), but back then I was only a hopeful amateur.
So in me, the way this idea came out was I decided I was going to publish my entire browser history, online, in real time. Every site I visited would be available for the whole world to see, should they wish to, seconds after I had clicked the link. I won’t bore you with the technical details, they really aren’t that complicated -- and neither are they honestly that interesting -- but suffice to say I built the thing. I named it on a whim after a Beatles song I happened to be listening to at the time: “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer”. And then it was done. Every link I visited was put in a database and displayed on a web page. It was in the form of a giant, constantly growing list, newest at the top. For general purposes of convenience, I had colour coded everything. So all social media sites would be say, purple. Wikipedia would be blue. News was green etc.
So one great and terrible thing about LSD is it has a way of teaching you things. This generally happens while you are tripping, or maybe afterwards when you re-integrate the experience. In this case, acid had decided Maxwell’s Silver Hammer was the to be the terrible form my teacher took. And boy howdy, it would certainly teach me some lessons
So I told all my friends about it. And they told their friends. And then word began to spread. And so I embarked on this slightly weird experiment in radical personal transparency, bouncing down the road like a complete asshole with nary a care in the world, full of hope in the promise of the dream, but I was to very quickly to discover it’s limits…
The first limit should have been the most obvious one. Porn. At the end of a hard days labour avoiding working, I liked nothing more than masturbating for a solid three or four hours over the choicest and rarest sweet-meats the internet had to offer, before eventually collapsing on my bed from sheer sexual exhaustion. The thing is… porn is a very personal thing. I mean: what really spins your wheels, what you get off to. At the time, I wasn’t ready to admit to my friends that I still really liked women ok but sometimes when the mood struck me I liked to watch some massively hung black dude plow a white guy around half his size while fantasying that it was really m… Anyhow, porn is a deeply personal thing and can show quite a lot about someone. Besides, what if my Mum was watching… or my female friends? Sweet jesus.
Well, if I was going to be consistent, I could either “rock out with my cock out” as we used to say back in primary school, or I could stop watching porn altogether. And that was the first lesson. Perfect transparency means constantly worrying about how you look because everyone can see everything. It means censoring, not just what you say, but who you are. it wasn’t just about porn of course. Maybe I should browse some wikipedia so I can look a bit more intelligent? What would the chick I had a crush on think if she knew I kept on visiting these horrible gore sites day after day? And so on and so forth, forever.
I had thought it would be liberating, to be free of all secrets. In fact, it was the exact opposite. I wasn’t living a radically transparent life, instead I was an actor, just playing at performing one.
The second revelation came in the form of the colour coding. I could see myself reflected in a sea of purple. It was obvious I had become obsessed with social media, particularly facebook. Constantly refreshing my homepage, hoping for that next sweet lick of dopamine, another little like on my post, a little sliver of ice from the great icicle of validation that would only ever melt away in the heat of the morning sun. I used to be a meth addict, and it’s exactly the same, that is: it’s never enough. You’re a fiend for it. It had revealed something deeply narcissistic and petty about myself that I really did not like. Why was I doing this? What did it matter? Did I really have three hundred “friends”? Of course not. I had the usual amount of people I cared enough about in my life to see on a semi-regular basis, a few close, ten or so I saw fairly often, maybe thirty total counting colleagues and co-workers and assorted demi-friends and vague acquaintances. The whole thing was fucking ridiculous.
The third lesson came only after both of these things had been grating at me for quite a while. After this synthesis, suddenly, I became enlightened. There was a lot more freedom to be had by not being famous or observed. Privacy wasn’t just a haven for the liars and the hypocrites. In fact, privacy enabled you to be most truly yourself. Sure, be honest where it matters, but you don’t need to put your every card down on the table all at once. Seems like a basic enough thing to realise, but I really had to get slapped upside the head pretty hard to see it. There is a power in being invisible.
So I took down the site. Deleted my facebook. Watched all the “black tops white“ gay porn my little bisexual heart desired and, ironically, stopped caring so much what other people thought about me. Don’t get me wrong, I still get that little rush of validation when someone I respect likes my shit, but you gotta pick the individuals who’s opinion you’re gonna care about. The vast majority of most people are either dumb as fuck or completely antithetical to my values. Which isn’t to say I exactly begrudge them, but I’d still much rather avoid getting myself in a public fist fight, metaphorical or otherwise, unless I really really need to. I think in most cases, power doesn’t need to be confronted, it can simply be routed around. You don’t go and deliberately blow your weed smoke right up a cop’s nose, instead, just go get high in the disabled toilets like everybody else. I mean: it’s what they’re there for!
I guess that is the real moral of the story.
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Commitments
It all started when my dad died last March 15/2019 I have learned how to drive because no one will drive my mom. I drive everyday just me and mom to go to the supermarket and to buy the ingredients for our menu of the day because we have a little dinner beside a hospital and yet I tried to be responsible in everything that was not suppose to be done by me.
March 15/2021
On this day our family commemorate the day when my father died. In that day our family is very busy in planning and to setup the tables and foods that we prepare for that day. We commence my dad’s death anniversary inside the eternal gardens in which where is my father currently buried. I have a friend which is a girl surprised me on the day before my dad’s anniversary. She told me that she will be attending to my dad’s death anniversary and on that statement that she say just surprised me and it felt like someone is with me in this time of sadness. I admit that I already courted her so many times and yet I am unlucky, but it is not the first time that she attended on any of my family activities or celebration because she already attended on my mom’s birthday. The fact that her presence is there, it just helped to decrease my depression and sadness and yet even though I did not have her answer but she is still there for me as a friend and I will never forget that she makes me feel happy even if we are not that serious on a relationship.
March 16/2021
In today’s fast-paced society, commitment is not something that pops into most people’s minds on a daily basis. We are constantly presented with numerous choices and opportunities with little encouragement for making long-term and thorough commitments.
No, I am not talking only about relationships but also everything else that fills your calendar (this is after all who you really are), whether that be church activities, family get-togethers, college classes, work, and friendships. Here, I discuss some important commitments we can make for a more meaningful and fulfilling life.
Joshua 24:15 says “But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”
We must commit to our faith in Jesus Christ and live our lives according to that commitment, daily.
March 17/2021
We all have, or will have, families in some form or fashion. Commit to those relationships, whether that be your fiancé, spouse, kids, or extended family and show your love for them. Play a game together as a family, watch a movie, go for a trip, have a meal together, discuss, read the same book, and so forth.
This day and age we have an endless list of activities we can do together. Going to my home, greeting my family, and then withdrawing to my room with my home and/or other devices in another room while interacting with my family is quite gratifying.
March 18/2021
As the Coronavirus pandemic forced everyone into spending more time at home, it also forced people to go through home supplies at much quicker rates. The expedited use of food, cleaners and toiletries led to an even more important role for grocery stores and their workers.
Like most businesses, grocery stores have been forced to change, but unlike most the demand for in person employees grew. During the early days of uncertainty with unsettled shoppers flooding supermarkets, workers like Mary stepped up to work long hours, six days a week
Grocery store workers have been called heroes throughout all of this because as rules and regulations have changed, they’ve changed right along with them. From face masks and social distancing to deep cleaning stores and product shortages, they’ve been coming in day in and day out to make sure as many people get what they need as possible.
March 19/2021
As I fall asleep I remeber may past experience when our city is under lockdown Space is something we Filipinos don't care too much about. To name a few examples: our houses our built right next to each other; there is minimal to non-existent personal space; shoppers are literally rubbing elbows at the biggest public market in the city; and passengers are squished inside a small jeepney.
But space is something our founders thought an important factor when building a child-caring center. During this pandemic time, where children are prohibited to go out of their homes, our children are still able to "go out" of their homes. They are still able to enjoy a game of soccer and kickball in our huge playground. Our toddlers are still able to ride their scooters on our driveways. Our children are still able to run around and chase each other in a game of tag. The space we have makes the lockdown endurable for everyone.
March 20/2021
On this day after we go to the market and buy our groceries for our canteen I heard a story on a radio about bullying. When I was in elementary school, I was happy and kind, and I had many friends. But when I was in middle school, some adults started flirting with me. I left because I didn't want to see all my friends in elementary school. At school, everything is money and clothes. I have a big cup, and it's terrible, and everyone laughs at me. A boy (I think he's in his second year of middle school) started chasing me. He called me by several names, arrested me, and spread rumors about me. One day he and his friends hit me on the bus. No one wants to be my friend anymore. I made friends with two girls in my class.
They started shouting at me. Everyone started telling me how bad I was. In sixth grade, the bullying got worse. I was bad, so everyone said I was going to kill myself. When I was in the first year of middle school, my mother sent me to afternoon classes (my school has a full-time option). The kids in the afternoon class started bothering me. They chase after me, take my photo in the bathroom and send it to all schools. When I came home from school, I went to my room and cried all night. I tell everyone. I hadn't finished the exam when the teacher started talking to my parents.
They told me that I was lazy and refused to take part. They knew I was being bullied, but they didn't do anything to stop it. Everyone hates me and I have no friends. I want to tell everyone who has one thing in common: things are getting better. I thought it was very sad. This can be frustrating, but you have to believe in yourself. Keep them away from you. I know you suffer, but sometimes you have to brag about everything you've been through.
I have one lesson from this story and it is that those people have no idea what you’ve been through. They probably couldn’t even take it. But you had to take it. And you’re still here going on with your life. And that’s why you can be proud of yourself.
March 21/2021
On this day our family went to our clan reunion and it was a sad experience for me. I remember when my dad used to bring us in those family reunions that our family has, and as the reunion is commencing, I always feel confident to talk to my relatives and interact to people. Today everything is different and I don’t even feel that kind of confidence because my dad is not already in our touch and don’t even feel a part of our family clan anymore because my dad used to introduce us and my uncles and aunts usually accommodate us with a smile and ease. On that day I just felt the changes when you loose you father.
March 22/2021
Today me and my friends got ourselves to have an a little bit of celebration inside MPLAZA and that day I was very happy, every time that me and my friends hangout I found my self to be happy and I forgot all the things and depressions that I have. Coincidentally I am really feeling so down because I remember again my father. When the time came that I feel I will cry my bestfriend called me and invited me if I want to join them because one of my friends is celebrating its birthday. I did not tell them that I am feeling down that day but that feeling faded because of the jokes and stories that we have. I am really thankful for them and I wish that I will be always be there for them
March 23/2021
Today I've finally made my decision to get my old dad's car to drive it going up to the parking lot of SM and drove It going to Pasacao Camarines Sur, and It was a very emotional time for me because my dad's car was stored inside to an auto repair shop for almost a month and I did it just to test the agility and strength of the car. I really love the car and it is a 1998 model Nissan Sentra manual transmission, I love it because I have so many memories of it from my dad and my family once decided to sell it because of the maintenance problems and loss of budget for it. Later then I rushed to the tomb of my dad and prayed and talk to him about how I love that car and I will cherish it for the rest of my life. My mom really supported me in fixing my dad's old car but only one broken part of the car per repair because of budget management and the cost of it. The car is the last thing that I have so that I can feel my father's presence because when I see that car, it reminds me of his presence which is I do not want to fade.
March 24/2021
Today early in the morning I drive my mom's car so that i can bring her to the supermarket and also help her to carry the bags. Today's system of buying for groceries to the supermarket is so different than last 2019. We are required to bring the E salvar QR code which is installed on our smartphone and to wear face shield and face mask. It is very difficult to carry the heavy bags because of the face mask that makes my breathing hard. I am really paranoid that time because my mam is having hard time to breath because we are carrying heavy bags and our faces are covered of the face mask and face shield. Fortunately my mom made it and we got to our little dinner with no harm. I've a lesson from what happen to me this day, it is to commit and have patience to help and do your responsibilities, even though there are obstacles and hardships in life, because there are people that are relying on you and you cannot afford to fail them or just to fail to be with them.
March 25/2021
The first day in the morning I got to our little dinner and I've seen my uncle which is having a very high blood pressure. My mom is really mad at him because my uncle is really stubborn because the doctors advised him to stop drinking alcohol and stop walking when it is very hot. A minute later my aunt called me from Hong Kong, she called my while she was crying because she is tired of sending money to our uncle, grandmother and other uncle because all of them are stubborn and they are not listening to the advice of my aunt and my mom. Today I've realized that what ever the person did to you or whatever or how is a person to you, as long as you have a personal connection to him, you will always love them no matter what because that is a function of a family
March 26/2021
On this day I have learned that teenagers need to be inspired to help their parents especially if they are a solo parent, because they are doing their best as a solo parent. Don’t count the things that you have done for your parents because they didn't list all of the things that they provide to you. Learn how to be cool if you fell that your parents is hurting you or sometimes wrong because after all they are just humans and they are not perfect
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