#five years after i first read it and that is still one of the sexiest things he's ever said | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

albatmobile · 1 year

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The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 4

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.

𓅪 Rated: E | TW: attempted SA mention (just dialogue) | 15.2k includes: skipping class to hang w the seniors, jayroy x reader motorcycle orgasm, Jayroy saving u from a creep, Damian paints u like one of his French girls jk kinda tho

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter Four: She's a Riot | ao3 - wattpad

THEN

It’d been weeks into your first term at Gotham Academy when Jason first appeared in your Honors English course. You watched with wide eyes as his signature skunk-stripe bobbed its way to the back corner of the room with his scarred face partially hidden in a book.

You sighed in relief at the sight of the familiar face in a class that was mostly filled with older, mean kids. Sure, art you had Damian, but every other class? Yeah, not so lucky.

Before you could second guess yourself, you got up from your desk to plop down in the seat next to him, though he didn’t stir from his book, leaving you to second-guess your decision. After all, your first meeting hadn’t necessarily been the greatest.

With him still ignoring you, you decide to be the one to break the ice. “Aren’t you a junior?”

You’d overheard whispers in the hallway about the ‘new Wayne kid’ and assumed it to be the angst-king you’d met at the manor.

“Don’t remind me,” Jason sighed and marked his place in ‘Catcher and the Rye’ as he answered you. “The boarding school I was at wasn’t able to transfer over certain courses, so I’ve been held back a few years in certain subjects.”

A few years? “How old are you then?”

His green eyes danced mischievously with your curious ones. “17. I should be a senior.”

“Oh, wow.” You couldn’t imagine being held back that many years and still being able to put forth a good effort. “That sucks.”

“Eh, I’ve already read the books on the syllabus, so that helps some,” he shrugged while you scrambled to look at the list of required books for the course. You’d only read two out of the six, but it was still something.

“You’ve read ‘Little Women?’” You move your finger to the next line and read it off. “‘The Odyssey’?”

“Of course, they’re iconic,” you snorted at his response. And to think his brothers actually had the audacity to call you the nerd.

“‘The Odyssey’ is pretty good for some ancient poems,” you admitted, but it was an understatement. The Odyssey had been one of your favorites due to its roots in Greek mythology.

Jason looked amused, “I think they’re considered epic.”

“Sure, however you want to describe it,” you waved him off as you set out your math notebook from last year that you were reusing. There were still a decent amount of blank pages to use before you’d need to get a new one, anyway.

“You’re funny,” he scooted his desk closer to you and from here, you’re better able to see deep-set scars scattered across his face. You didn’t want him to notice your staring at them, though so you quickly glanced at his mouth instead. Wait- that wasn’t any better, you thought as you came face-to-face with his plump, sharp-angled lips. “I think you and I are going to be the only competent people in this class,” he acted like he was letting you in on a secret. “First project’s due in two weeks. Wanna team up?”

You, competent? Him, hot? Okay, yes. You were in

“Sure.”

He seemed nice enough and you needed an outstanding GPA to keep your scholarship here, so the more help you got, the better. Plus, he’d already read the books? Definite bonus.

“Cool,” You blushed at his deep voice. Even just the casual nature of him splayed out in his chair had you fanning yourself with your notebook. He was so… ugh.

Perfect.

His half-lidded eyes regard you as if he was about to fall asleep while you continued to blatantly eye him up.

He was angry, hot and had scars. Not to mention the sexiest eyes you’d ever seen, but he was older. Out of reach.

You belittled yourself for even considering chasing after the naive butterflies that fluttered around your stomach at the sight of the Adonis at the desk next to you alone. Thankfully the butterflies didn’t have to stick around too long as your English teacher began going over the project, forcing you to focus in. Well, somewhat…

For the next 54 minutes, you caught yourself stealing glances at Jason’s stoic build out of the corner of your eye up until the bell rang. Student's chatter instantly bubbled over your teacher’s final remarks as they packed up for their next class.

Jason leaned over, invading your space with his musky scent as you stowed your notebook away. “We should meet up after school.”

Damian hadn’t mentioned anything about you coming over, but you didn’t think he’d mind. “Sure.”

With Tim and Damian being brothers and Jason’s residency at the manor, you didn’t think it’d be out of the question to assume that Jason was another one of Bruce’s wards. It was for this reason you mentioned your locker being next to Tim’s. It’d been enough for Damian to know where you were talking about but, as evidenced by the confused look on Jason’s face, you’d been mistaken.

“Yeah, I don’t know where the fuck that is, babe,” you blushed at the nickname. “Me and Timmy don’t really get along much.”

Well then.

“He’s pretty nice,” you insisted while slinging on your backpack. Jason just rolled his eyes, following suit before motioning you out of the classroom ahead of him. “No, really. He always says hi to me and stuff.”

“That’s a pretty high bar you got there,” he seemed just to be following you, so you headed to your next class with Jason in tow.

You laughed, realizing too late how pathetic that had sounded, “After my first few weeks here, you have no idea.”

Jason screaming at you in the manor had truly been nothing compared to the insults and rumors your classmates slung your way each day.

“What does that mean?”

You dodged his question easily, “Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“No,” he shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Me and Roy are ditching to get something to eat.”

Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Who’s Roy?” You kind of remembered hearing that name at Star City, but he had been a high schooler at the time you’d been in middle school there. Probably wishful thinking, you thought to yourself. After all, there was obviously more than one Roy in the world.

“My friend,” he looked down at you with amusement.

“Cool,” he laughed at your imitation of him earlier in class, leaving you to blush at being caught.

“Sure, kid,” he sighed at your responding glare. “And don't try to tell me you’re not a kid when you’re the same age as that demon brat.” You assumed he was talking about Damian for, well, obvious reasons.

“Would a kid know to make fun of you for reading Alcott?” You countered with a pointed brow.

“Okay, fuck off,” he chuckled a bit. “Where’s this class you’re headed to anyway?”

You faltered in your steps. “Should be in this wing,” you paused, looking around at the surrounding doors. “Maybe down this hallway?”

Damn, you’d taken the wrong hallway again and ended up lost. It happened at least once a week, at this point, in the maze that was Gotham Academy.

“Alright, so what I’m hearing is you don’t appreciate classic literature, or know shit in general,” you gaped at him. “And now we’re both lost,” he sighed in tandem with the late bell ringing. The two of you watched as the last stragglers slipped away and disappeared into their classrooms. His pocket vibrated and he produced his cell phone to answer the call with an annoyed, “What?” You didn’t know whether to stay with Jason or continue looking around for your class, so you elected to awkwardly stand off to the side as Jason narrated to someone, likely Roy, your current location. “We should wait here,” you nodded at his statement, not really knowing what else to do. Jason shifted to lean against the hallway wall closest to you and you dropped your heavy Batman bag to the floor with an echoing thud. “You carrying a dead body in there or something?”

You gave him an odd yet amused look, “Because that’s the most logical thing I’d be carrying around in this tiny-ass backpack,” he shrugged, once again looking down each end of the hallway you were in. “Doesn’t your dad own this school, or something? How are you lost?”

Jason’s glare settled over you immediately, causing you to inadvertently step backward into the wall. “First off, he’s not my dad,” you nodded hastily until he dropped his glare. You hadn’t even realized you’d held your breath until his green eyes looked back down at his phone. “Second, he just funds the school. At least I think. I don’t know. I haven’t been around much until recently,” you gave him a quizzical look. “Boarding school and all,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” He at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed for blowing up on you. “I mean, everyone has their daddy issues.” That much could be said for you- well, parent issues. Neither of them were around enough to check in on you, let alone to care that you existed. “I get that.”

“Cool.”

You dropped the topic and smiled lightly at what seemed to be becoming an inside joke between the two of you.

“For sure,” he smiled back and, this time, it seemed genuine. That was a relief. The last thing you wanted was to be on his bad side again.

Soon enough, over-styled, familiar red hair came into view complete with an untucked uniform and loosened tie.

“Yoo! I know you,” he threw up his arm and waved at you. “Us Star City kids gotta represent!” Once he got close enough, he stuck out towards you for a hand for a low high-five.

You lightly tapped his opened hand with a grin, “Hey, Roy.”

“I thought I saw you around the halls,” he said your name. “I was stoned out of my mind, though, so I wasn’t too sure.”

“Really?” You looked at him doubtfully, not bothering to touch the stoned part. “I’m surprised you even remember me, to be honest.”

You’d never talked, having only seen him hanging around the cafeteria sometimes after school, if that. It was possible you’d seen a tuft of his red hair sticking out of the crowd at the occasional football game if you bothered to go, but with no friends, it wasn’t really worth the trek or the $10 ticket.

“Still have the prettiest eyes, princess,” he shrugged nonchalantly from in front of you and Jason with a wicked glint in his light green eyes. “That’s how I knew it was you,” you gulped, not sure how to respond to his blatant flirting. It was one thing to tease Damian, but Roy and Jason were older and you had to be more careful. “What are you doing around these parts anyway?” Roy asked, ushering you and Jason into the hallway opposite your current one.

Jason wordlessly picked up your backpack like it weighed nothing and slung it around his free shoulder. You knew better than to try and fight him on it, so you just let him carry it around as Roy led the two of you around the labyrinth of Gotham Academy.

“I’m here on scholarship.”

“You say it like you wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Jason chimed in.

He was right, but they didn’t need to know that.

This was your only chance at escaping the same fate as your parents- doomed to scavenge for money by any means for the rest of their lives. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you couldn’t show it.

“I mean, truthfully, the scholarship is the only thing that would make me come to a crime-hole city like this.”

It was partially true. Gotham, even its richest parts, weren’t for the faint-hearted. Anything could happen at the flip of a coin.

“Fair enough,” Roy said as you entered a long corridor facing the back doors of the school. You’d only been back here once, but remembered enough to know that the whole back area was fenced-in by a high, cobblestone wall.

“Where are we going exactly?” You asked as you hesitantly let them lead you out the back.

“I thought you were ditching with us. My bad,” Roy looked to Jason, who turned at you with a questioning glance. “It’s cool. There’s no pressure, dude.”

“I forgot to mention she was looking for a classroom. It’s my fault,” Jason saw the hesitance on your face and handed you back your twenty-some-pound backpack before rubbing at his shoulder. “I don’t know where shit is to be any help.”

“I can still show you where your class is,” Roy offered helpfully, watching as you struggled under your backpack’s hulking weight.

Okay, skipping was definitely not up your alley, but showing up to class this late also wasn’t.

It’s not like your parents would be there to pick up the call that you'd skipped anyway, you thought bitterly. Looking down at your phone, you anxiously noted that it was 10 minutes past the late bell and figured it was too late to show up at that point.

“No, it’s good,” you started walking further back on the grounds to where the gardens and tennis courts were. “Jason wanted me to come, anyway,” you gave a small smirk, testing out just how much sass you could unleash on them.

“Sure,” he laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.”

There it was again. The nickname that already had you in a chokehold.

“Where are you guys eating at?”

“Oh, yeah, food would be sweet,” Roy clapped you on the back. Not lightly, mind you. “Good idea."

“Jason said you guys were getting something to eat?” You stated the obvious. Had that not been their plan after all?

"Sure, yeah," Roy tried to cover up with faux nonchalance. Jason, on the other hand, looked downright guilty. “Want to go to the diner on fifth?”

You reached the courtyard wall, where they immediately began to climb over it, but you just stood there. The wall’s daunting height only seemed to double the longer you stared. Roy dropped back down from the top to grab your backpack before throwing it up to Jason, who sat saddled over both sides, with ease.

Jason caught your backpack and dropped it to the other side before doing the same, just after Roy rejoined him on the top of the wall.

“Okay, I didn’t realize skipping school involved level 20 calisthenics skills,” you brushed your sweaty hands on the front of your skirt as you finally approached the wall.

“Video game talk, very hot. Nice, nice,” his red hair bobbed from above with his enthusiastic nods. You struggled for a bit until he started pointing out odd stones that stuck out. “Put your foot there, good,” you blushed at the insignificant praise. “Just like that.”

You were a bit over halfway up the wall when Roy offered you his right hand to pull you up. Once at the top, you held down the center of your skirt to keep it from rising before maneuvering both legs over the side so you could peer down at the ground below you.

Below you, Jason seemed entirely entertained by the whole situation. He eventually opened his arms and motioned for you to jump.

“Hurry up, princess,” Roy ushered from beside you. “Your chariot awaits.”

What chariot he was referring to, you didn’t know, but you did know that you didn’t want to get caught.

“Coming, coming,” you waved Roy off, leaving him to gracefully drop to the grass below. “In the comics, they roll. Should I roll?”

“Do whatever the fuck you need to; just hurry up,” Jason motioned once again for you to jump.

You looked behind you, then at the ground again. “Alright,” you leaped from the wall and rolled onto the grass with as much grace as a newborn bird. “Ow, okay. Rolling does nothing,” you groaned, gathering your bearings on the ground when you suddenly heard Roy clearing his throat. You peered up to see the older men pointedly avoiding your general direction. You quickly glanced down only to become mortified by the sight of your bright red Flash-themed panties on full display. “Oh, fuck me. Come on.”

If there was a word greater than embarrassment, that’s what you were, but like times ten. Scratch that, times 100.

You pulled down at the plaid uniform skirt, desperately shifting it back into place. You refused to meet Roy’s eyes as he extended a hand to lift you up, but you ultimately ended up taking it.

You were pretty sure your face was going to remain red for the rest of the day and seriously considered hanging your head in shame, taking the L and just going back to class. That and never showing your face around either of them again.

Yeah, that sounded about right.

But you did none of that. Instead, you looked at them defensively, challenging them to say anything about what they’d just witnessed.

Jason merely tilted his head in the direction of the parking lot, still content to avoid eye contact. He didn’t leave any room for conversation anyway. “We’re going to get caught if we stay around much longer,” you and Roy nodded, following his lead all the way to the far side of the parking lot where there were three Challengers, a station wagon and a red motorcycle.

You silently begged whatever gods were out there that you wouldn’t be taking the death-trap.

It was for naught.

Jason and Roy soon sidled up next to the obnoxious crimson motorcycle that put the red of your Flash undies to shame. They beckoned you over and you obliged, albeit hesitantly.

“Problem with the ride, kid?” Jason quirked a brow your way.

“If anything, I’m just thinking about how this adds to your whole superfluous, angsty persona,” you shrugged and continued to eye the bike with disdain.

“A true angst king then, perhaps,” Roy added.

“Indeed,” you nodded and fist-bumped, leaving Jason to roll his eyes.

“Good to know you’re both brushing up on basic ACT vocab, but can we get a move on?” Roy wasted no further time in sitting down on the bike before patting his lap.

You looked over at Roy, “Don’t you have a car or something?”

“Forgot my keys?” You glared as you let out a resigning sigh and straddled the seat, not wanting to keep Jason waiting any longer. You backed up a bit before ultimately settling down onto his lap. “Usually, Jason drives anyway. For real, though,” he said, trying to make you feel more comfortable and less like a set-up, considering you were sitting in his lap and he’d just seen your panties.

It did help you calm down a bit.

Jason handed you his red helmet, then maneuvered to sit. His added proportions forced you backward, higher onto Roy’s lap.

“Alrighty then, a warning next time would be great, princess,” his voice sounded restrained, leaving Jason to snicker as he continued to find the best way to sit. Huffing, he turned around to spread your thighs before turning back around and pushing his back in between them.

You sat there stupefied; eyes wide, blush evident like a dumbass.

His touch had been brief but firm.

You were grateful the gasp you felt stirring didn’t make it past your lips. Especially when all you could feel was the leather of his jacket flush against your bare thighs where his touch still lingered.

“Don’t suppose you have any more badass jackets lying around?” You managed around your sudden flash of arousal.

“Ha, ha,” he toned, unamused. “Very funny,” he shifted slightly, inadvertently causing the center seam on the back of his jacket to come into contact with your seam.

This time, you’re unable to hide your reaction as the contact leaves you arching backward into Roy.

Being between the two of them had left you both hot and bothered and now also extremely wet.

“I, for one, think she’s a riot,” Roy added unhelpfully.

“Thanks, Roy,” you said, thankful for the distraction.

You were still breathless from the dizzying leather contact in front of you and the muscular wall behind you that trapped you against it. You shook yourself out of your remaining stupor to put the helmet on to further hide your flustered state.

“Anytime,” he patted the top of your thigh where his hand had been resting. “You told us to hurry up, so come on, bro.”

Just as Roy finished his sentence, Jason rev’ed his engine up, eliciting a huge roar as he high-tailed it out of the parking lot.

You desperately clung to Jason’s rock-hard stomach while wrestling to keep your skirt from flapping up in the wind. From behind you, Roy howled with laughter right next to your ear at the adrenaline-inducing speed, but a sharp turn had him shutting up real fast. He then focused on wrapping both arms securely around you as Jason continued to zip around midday Gotham traffic on his bike.

You’d lost the battle with your skirt long ago until Roy, having seen your pathetic plight, adjusted his grip. His right arm situated around your waist while the other splayed itself between your thighs to keep the offending piece of fabric at bay. “I got you.”

All you could manage was a nod.

The vibrations, coupled with Roy’s unfortunate-yet-fortunate hand placement, made you feel like you were in your room going at it with your vibrator.

You were glad the skirt acted as a barrier between your leaking arousal and Roy’s wrist, but it was only so thick. With the steady piling of chilling heat in the bottom of your stomach, you knew this wasn't going to end well.

You were suddenly slammed against Roy’s forearm and into Jason's back when he came to an abrupt stop at a red light.

“Oof!” You fell directly back onto Roy’s lap. “You’re doing this on purpose,” you growled through the helmet, assuming he’d think you were talking about the excessive speeding, but no. You were talking about the delicious friction that was about to push you to your limit. He held up his hands in faux surrender before quickly shifting them back to rev the handles as the light turned green. “JASON!” You screamed as he went from zero to round the corner at a highly illegal speed.

Even through the helmet, you can hear his gorgeous laugh. He’s only laughing for so long as he completely blows through a speed bump, leaving the bike and all its inhabitants airborne from the shared seat. You let out a yelp as you bounced back onto Roy’s lap at the same time your chest bounced against the back of Jason’s leather jacket.

Roy let out a pained groan at the contact. “I agree,” he mewled. In your highly aroused, nearly lucid state, your clit throbbed at the noise. “This is definitely on purpose.”

You probably would’ve laughed along had you not been seconds away from your first, very public, orgasm on a motorcycle.

Your shaky breath by then had fogged up your helmet, leaving you completely blind to everything around you. For some reason, this wasn’t helping your problem in the slightest and, if anything, was amplifying their obscene onslaught against you.

You attempted to shift, but were ultimately unable to find any relief from the, er… relief you were already feeling. At least, that is, until Roy smacked your thigh, holding it in place to stop any further movement from you. It was worse, a lot worse. And by worse, you meant better, a lot better for other things.

You stilled suddenly as your eyes rolled back into your head. The vibrations, coupled with Roy’s hand on your spread thighs and your grip on Jason’s abs took control over your body. You shifted your hips forward against Jason’s back while your head fell onto Roy’s shoulder with a silent gasp. You quickly came to the realization of what you’d just done and straightened instantly in Roy’s lap to play it off.

“Can you guys stop humping each other back there for two seconds? We’re almost there.”

Your back tensed at his sudden statement and you wondered if your orgasm hadn’t been as quiet as you’d thought. There was no way, though, right? Jason was surely just joking… That had to be it.

“Swear she just passed out, dude,” Jason and Roy cackled as you attempted to regulate your breathing. “I think your driving knocked her out, or some shit.”

Sure, you thought, if that’s what they said happened, who were you to correct them? You glanced down to where an uncomfortable damp spot in your Flash-themed panties told the real story and made sure it stayed covered up.

Jason hadn’t lied. Seconds later, the bike came to a lurching stop in the empty parking lot where the force of the brakes sent you and Roy pushing against Jason’s muscular back.

“Was all of this necessary?” You asked him, still half-hanging over his shoulder from the abrupt stop.

“Plenty, babe,” he turned his head so it was breaths away from your helmeted one with a wicked smirk and hopped down to help you get off the bike. Roy moved his hand from in between your thighs so you were free to hop off using Jason’s hand for support. “Was it really that bad?” You gave him a deadpan glare in lieu of an actual response as you returned his helmet.

“She was shaking the entire time,” Roy answered for you, shaking with laughter as he got down too.

“I thought there was something wrong with my bike,” Jason snorted.

You hastily steered the conversation in a different direction before it got any further. “It’s all super hilarious,” you fake laughed obnoxiously before crossing your arms. “So, are we gonna go eat or what?”

“Jeez, Princess. You think you’d be a bit more mellowed out right now.”

You glanced wearily at Roy after his oddly specific comment, but refrained from any further questioning so they’d drop the topic completely. “Hangry,” You offered instead of taking the bait. “Now, let’s go,” you ushered both of them inside only to be led by them to the booth furthest in the back. The table was angled in just the right way to be able to see the diner counter and the entrance.

You all ordered and you pulled out your phone to see a text from Damian asking why you’d missed art class. You sent back a quick reply that you’d tell him later before slipping your phone back into your backpack.

“Baby’s first skip day?” Roy motioned over to your phone. “Parents already on your back?”

“Sure.” Parents were another topic you wanted to avoid.

Roy seemed to take the hint and offered a toast as soon as all of your milkshakes came out. “Well, cheers to your first day of delinquency.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Jason clinked his strawberry against Roy’s chocolate peanut butter and soon your own frosted glass joined in the mock celebration.

“To maybe having a few more,” you said. “Emphasis on the maybe, though.” you warned, but they were too busy slurping to pay you any mind.

Your food arrived and you chatted more about their classes and hobbies.

It turned out Roy was playing the same video game you’d had your eye on for a year now, so a majority of the time was spent with Roy trying to explain the plot and failing miserably, leaving Jason to correct him every other few minutes.

“He was stoned out of his mind on that level,” Jason would butt in every few minutes or so and you’d lean in closer to hear the actual storyline per Jason.

“We should play together sometime,” you slouched down in the booth with a groan on account of your overly full stomach.

“Why not now?” Jason suggested, looking at you for permission.

You’d all finished at that point, but you’d planned to head back to school after your long lunch.

Now you were debating. You’d already left the school premises, so was there really any point to going back? You looked at your phone, seeing your long lunch had well extended into last period.

You gave him an affirming look, “Let’s do it.”

You slid out from the booth to let Roy out. Meanwhile, Jason fiddled around in his leather jacket until he produced a wallet. Jason slapped a $100 on the table and gave you and Roy a look that it was not up for debate on who paid.

A man walking in held open the door for you and Roy, but Jason being the straggler, ended up right in the crossfire of said man’s sneeze. Jason stumbled out of the entryway with a horrified face, greeted by the sight of you and Roy cackling at his misery.

“I need a shower. No,” he shuddered as he stalked over to the two of you, “Five.”

“I’ll join you,” Roy obnoxiously wiggled his brows at Jason. “I’m so dirty, daddy.”

Jason gawked briefly, then quickly wrinkled his nose in disgust, “Fuck off, you gay ass.”

The two of them laughed at that, but you shut it down.

“You know, you really shouldn’t make fun of someone for their sexuality.”

They both looked at you blankly, then at each other and grinned, “PFFT! ”

“I’m serious,” they began to laugh to the point you ripped the helmet from Jason’s bony-fingered grip. “It’s not funny!” You stuck the helmet on your head and plopped onto the bike with crossed arms. “Lots of men are put down or unjustly feminized for being gay or bi. You guys shouldn’t perpetuate that kind of culture.”

Roy snickered, wiping mirthful tears from his gorgeous eyes. “No, princess, you’re right,” he elbowed Jason, who’d stopped laughing soon after your statement. “Guess we don’t have to hide our undying love anymore, Jasey-poo ,” he began to obnoxiously smooch at the air around Jason’s face.

There was a sudden shift not even you could’ve been prepared for, let alone Roy.

Jason backed up, face scrunched up in disgust, “Shut up and get on the bike, Roy.”

Jason refused to meet either of your eyes. Well, not that he could even see yours through the darkened helmet visor, but even through the dark tint, you could tell Jason seemed bothered.

You sighed internally. That’s not what you’d meant to do at all.

Roy cleared his throat, throwing on the second helmet, “You’re gonna have to get up, beautiful.”

“Oh,” you quickly got up so Roy could sit where you’d just been. “Sorry.”

You fiddled with the oversized helmet as you sat back on his lap with a soft bounce. This time, you knew what to expect in terms of positioning, so settling onto the bike didn’t take as long nor had as many adjustments. Your clit was still tender from earlier, which made the ride back somewhat painful rather than the pleasure you’d felt earlier.

The three of you pulled into the manor just as Tim and Stephanie were walking through the gates.

“Yooo!” Stephanie threw a peace sign in your direction.

“Hey!” You took off the helmet and handed it to Jason, who held out his other to help you down.

“Don't you look all hot and bothered,” she wiggled her eyebrows, referencing the squished position between the two seniors.

The four of you chatted as you walked into the manor, where you met a confused Damian in the foyer.

He looked surprised to see you, “You weren’t in class today.”

You rambled a bit before Stephanie cut in.

“Trouble in paradise?” She cackled, causing her blonde tresses to bob up and down. “You should’ve seen her ride,” she obnoxiously winked at Jason, who blew past her without a word to go upstairs.

You immediately looked at Roy, who shrugged and saluted to the other three in the room, “Fuck it, we ball.”

“What?” Your head tilted in confusion. Damian seemed to be in the exact same boat.

Roy simply tilted his head where Jason had gone, “Come on, princess.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Damian cut Roy’s nonsense off, saying your last name in an accusatory tone.

Well, you thought as you looked anywhere but at him, you were busy orgasming all over the back of your brother and his friend. “I got cold feet?”

He scowled, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be there for you. In the class, I mean,” he quickly corrected as he looked over your shoulder to where Roy lingered, “Perhaps you’d want to make up for the time we lost?”

You snorted, “Talk normal, twerp.”

He ignored you, moving both hands behind his back. “Father will need me soon, but until then, would you want to hang out?”

“Yeah, sure,” you looked to Roy for permission as if you needed it, but he just motioned to the two of you to follow after Jason. “I wasn’t trying to skip,” you confided as the three of you began walking up the stairs.

“It doesn’t seem like you,” he agreed with your statement, turning to glare at Roy, who paid him no mind. “Don’t let these hooligans deflower your innocence.”

The worst part was he was being completely serious. No, the worst part was they technically had deflowered you, albeit without knowing.

He merely glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes as Roy howled, having to hold onto the banister for support. “Oh, my god, Damian. You’re hilarious, little dude,” His face was turning red enough to block out his freckles as he continued to howl, “Deflower, PFFT!”

“DAMIAN!” Your mouth dropped open in complete shock. “What the fuck is your deal?!”

You smacked at his shoulder. He returned the action tenfold, nearly sending you over the railing of the stairs with his brute power. You winced at the contact and hissed out an ‘ow.’ His eyes, however, remained glued to Roy’s back.

“What’s up?” Jason greeted monotonously once the three of you found him in the library.

“I thought we were gaming?” You questioned Jason, who sat on the floor with his papers spread out in front of him

“Yeah, what the hell,” Roy walked over to Jason and destroyed his organized papers by chucking his bag on the ground in front of him. “Then you ditched me to babysit, dude.”

Damian quirked a dubious brow, “More like the other way around, Harper.”

“If anything,” you concurred.

The redhead motioned between the two of you as if it explained everything, “See what I’m talking about?”

“Sure, Roy,” Jason glanced up at you with amusement glimmering in his verdant eyes. Your cheeks heat up instantly at the contact, immediately shifting your eyes over at the copy of ‘The Odyssey’ trapped in his attractive hands. Was there any place on Jason’s body you could look at and not get flustered by? “And we need to get started on our project, so,” He motioned to the papers.

“Give me that, Todd.” Damian flipped over the book impetuously to scowl at both sides, “Purely elementary.”

“And what are you and Roy reading?” Jason challenged.

“‘Animal Farm?’” You chimed in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “No, ‘Lord of the Flies?’”

“Don’t you join them!” Damian insisted, looking at you somewhat betrayed. Roy and Jason laughed as you comforted a distraught Damian and assure him that you’re not, in fact, ganging up against him. “It’s ‘Grapes of Wrath,' for your information.”

“Ah,” you pat him on the back. “Nature is king is a reoccurring theme. Boom, I just wrote your thesis for you.”

“Please, we have to go more in-depth than that,” he scoffed. “It’s a lot more complex than ‘The Odyssey’.”

“How?” Jason challenged. “Different genres, different time periods. It’s completely unfair to even compare the two unless you’re just talking about them being literary classics.”

Roy leaned over to fake whisper to you, “I love it when he gets all book-wormy.”

You nodded distractedly in agreement as you watched the literary battle between Jason and Damian roar on.

“They’re about the plight between families, albeit for different reasons and how they’re able to overcome to ultimately come back together,” Damian said. You nodded, being able to see where his analysis was coming from.

“Odysseus was on his own for the entire book practically,” Jason pointed out the flaw in his argument, but Damian was quick to refute it.

“It’s a hero’s journey; of course he’s alone,” he said. “It always is a lone journey,” he gave Jason a meaningful glance that had you furrowing your brows.

You nudged a distracted Roy, “Reminds me of Batman, to be honest.” You lowered your voice into a dramatic rasp and use your arm to create a fake cape to cover the bottom half of your face, “I work alone.”

Damian wrinkled his nose, having heard you, “Please never do that again.”

You all burst into laughter. Well, except for Roy, who was vehemently scribbling down what you assumed to be notes. Upon closer inspection, however, it all just appeared to be random, disconnected scribbles.

He seemed to sense the weight of your eyes on him because he tried to explain, “I think I’ll actually manage to pass this year.”

“Yeah,” you drawled, looking back down at his chicken scratch, turning your head every which way to make sense of it, “If you can ever manage to go back and decode this shit.”

“I, for one, can read it perfectly,” he boop'ed you on the nose, leaving you to snort.

“Hey!” Jason and Damian complained suddenly.

You turned from Roy to see them glaring in both of your directions.

Your eyes widened with confusion, “What?” Damian muttered something under his breath and then, out of nowhere, asked you to help him with his English homework. “Damian, you’re in Roy’s English class… Two years above me,” you reminded him.

“Fine,” he sighed and made a demanding grab for the papers you were busy pulling out of your backpack, “Then I’ll help you with yours.”

“Unless you just up and do it, I can’t imagine how much help you’ll be,” you shrugged as he looked over the papers with a heavily focused look before shoving them back into your expectant hands.

“Pass,” Damian gave a curt nod before leaving you, Jason and Roy alone with a growing mountain of homework. “Enjoy these losers.”

“Keep those petals flowery, Damian,” Roy looked up from his notes to wink at Damian’s retreating form. He nudged his elbow into your arm, “Right, babe?”

“That’s my nickname for her, Roy.” Jason looked to you for an explanation but was met with you blushing at the memory of Damian’s uncalled-for comment on the stairs.

“You’re right,” Roy smirked, turning to you. “Wouldn’t want to confuse you, now would we, princess?” He winked, leaving you to roll your eyes in return.

You wished your cheeks would go back to their normal fucking color already, but they stubbornly refused.

“Are we actually going to work or not?” You reminded Jason of your upcoming project, but he quickly waved you off. It seemed like his priorities had changed after Damian’s appearance in the library.

“Roy, pass me the shit.”

You raised a brow, but Roy just nodded with a coy smile before pulling out a gigantic colorful wrapped treat.

“What is that?” You skeptically eyed the treat as it was passed between the two boys.

Jason unwrapped it, looking pointedly at Roy with a silent question, but Roy just shook his head.

“They’re edibles, dumbass.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, “I think I like ‘babe’ better.”

“Noted,” he said, taking a huge bite and offering it your way, but you held up a hand to pass.

Soon enough, absolutely no work had been done and the two of them had taken to fucking around with each other, making it nearly impossible to read. You tried to ignore their rambunctious laughter and rough-housing as you continued to note, but eventually, it got to be too much.

You sighed, catching both of their attention as you snapped your notebook shut. “I’m soo glad we’re partnered together on this project.” The sarcasm rolled off you in waves as they both finished off a second Rice Krispie each. Great. You continued to work on the outline you needed to complete by Friday while Jason and Roy immediately went back to reinitiating their smack-fest on the floor.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll do my fair share. It’s not like the weed is gonna stop that.” Jason reassured you, panting as he held Roy down on the floor by a fistful of his firey hair, but you were doubtful.

In true stoner fashion, Roy butted in, face still smashed hilariously against the carpet, “Shit's less dangerous than alcohol. Don’t believe the shit they tell you about da kush.”

“Dude,” Jason shook his head at Roy’s pathetic lingo, pushing down harder on him until Roy’d had enough.

You watched half-amused, half-annoyed as Roy slammed Jason to the spot on the carpet Roy’d warmed up for him. The dumbass stopped to admire his work too long, leaving an open invitation for Jason to tackle him by the midsection to the ground below.

“I think I’ve done enough rebellious teenage things for one day,” you admitted hesitantly, looking from the offending pot Fruity Pebble Rice Krispies Treats to the sweaty fuckeres rolling around on the floor. “Besides, those don’t even look good.”

“True,” Roy panted, ignoring your last comment about the edibles as he held Jason in a headlock. “We did just break your skipping virginity.”

They really had no idea about the true extent of virginity that had been taken from you that day, leaving a faint blush to appear at the memory of the motorcycle ride. That, along with Damian’s weird ‘deflowering’ comment.

“And with that lovely comment, Roy,” you squinted your eyes in his direction. “I’m out. I actually plan to get my shit done before school tomorrow.”

“You’re so smart, princess,” Roy made a heart with his hands over his actual one. “Maybe it’ll rub off on me one day,” he winked and Jason smacked him audibly on the arm.

No motorcycles ever again, you silently concurred after another one of Roy’s pointed comments about earlier that day.

“Stop trying to act like a fuck boy. It’s completely out of character,” Jason belittled his red-haired friend.

“Don’t even get me started on you Mr. Brooding, bad boy,” he morphed his freckled face into Jason’s seemingly permanent scowl, doing his signature ‘tch.’ “Babe this, babe that, check out my motorcycle I only got from my dad because I-” Roy trailed off, crossing his arms at both of your wide gazes. “What?!”

Jason looked deathly murderous.

Definitely your cue to leave, especially considering what you witnessed the last time you saw that same look on his face. You shook your head, thinking back on your first visit here to now. So much had changed. Plus, you definitely had a lot more friends than you did the first time. You smiled lightly to yourself at this as you collected your things in the wake of their argument.

“Alright, I’m officially out. Have fun with each other and all of this,” you gestured to the papers and edibles. “I’m actually going to get my shit done. See you guys tomorrow.” You managed over their bickering, but neither seemed to notice.

As you shut the library door behind you, you heard Tim’s quiet voice too late and you ended up bumping directly into him. He greeted you somewhat off-handedly before giving your disheveled uniform a once over. You attempted to smooth out your skirt, which had been creased from your earlier ride, then adjusted the straps of your superhero-themed backpack on your shoulders.

“Don’t think I noticed that the first time,” he said, referring to your bag. “You read comics?”

“Of course!” You couldn’t help that the volume of your voice raised with your excitement. No one ever wanted to talk comics with you, especially no one in Gotham. It was taboo in a way most cities would never be able to comprehend.

You’d tried to get Damian into Batman of all things, but it never held his attention. According to him, it was all “girly-soap-opera bullshit anyway.”

“Want me to walk you out?” You nodded and he moved to guide you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I feel like I keep seeing you, but you’re gone before I can talk to you,” he admitted. “Who do I have to fight to get some attention from you?” He flashed a gorgeous smile in your direction, forcing your eyes away from his delicate attractiveness.

“Talk comics with me?”

He gives you an amused smile, “Yeah, I can do that.” You ended up sitting down next to Tim in the living room, which was situated next to the foyer. He patted at the spot on the couch right next to him and you ended up settling close enough that you could feel warmth radiating from his slender form. “Who do you read?” He glanced down at your backpack and smirked. “Besides Batman, that is.”

You blushed, not sure how much you wanted to nerd out in front of Tim. You didn’t want to scare him off and having him think you were some weird freak. “Long answer or short?”

His bright eyes glistened with something you couldn’t read. “Long.” His voice was deep and controlled, making you squirm slightly in your seat.

You still weren’t encouraged he knew what he was getting himself into, but you divulged anyway.

“Well, living in Star City I’m partial to any of the Arrow comics, Black Canary included,” you added but thought it was pretty self-explanatory. “Flash family is pretty interesting too with the whole speed-force thing… Poor Kid Flash,” you lamented as if the storyline was actually real. “Can’t go wrong with Huntress or The Question, OH!” You exclaimed, sitting up straighter on the couch, further invading Tim’s space. You cleared your throat as you caught a whiff of his earthy, pinewood-smelling cologne. “Nightwing’s hot as fuck. Serious buns of steel, so there’s that, but I know you said besides Batman,” you finished with a shrug.

“Er…” Tim looked around the room quickly.

“Don’t lie, Tim. You know it’s true,” you sighed as you stared off into space, thinking about the skin-tight uniform he donned. “Fattest ass in the whole superhero game by a longshot.” You inadvertently thought back to Dick’s speedo-covered ass that was now ingrained in your mind for the rest of eternity. Still had nothing on Nightwing, though you concluded.

“I’ll take your word on it,” he trailed off amusedly.

“But, obviously,” you pointed to your backpack. “Anything Batman or Robin is the shit,” you nodded and started listing off repeat characters that were featured in the issues over the years. “They speculate that there have been at least five Robins, if not more! How crazy is that?” You continued rambling. “And they all start so young too! Could you imagine being in middle school and going home to kick ass and then finish fractions homework? Wild,” you shook your head in disbelief. Tim had remained quiet throughout, so you glanced over to make sure he was still awake, only to find him still staring at you with the same unreadable look. “What?”

“Which one is your favorite?” It came out somewhat hesitant, but you shrugged, figuring you were reading too far into it.

You didn’t have to think on it for too long. You’d asked yourself this very question ages ago once the speculation came out, but actually explaining it out loud was a whole other thing.

“First Robin is always iconic,” you listed on your finger easily. “The second one… Not much is known, I don’t think,” you trailed off and looked to him for confirmation, but he just shook his head. “Red Robin is probably the most iconic Robin aside from the first panty-wearing one.”

Tim barked out a laugh, “Oh, yeah?”

You nodded animatedly. “Red Robin’s uniform basically set the trend for the newest Robin’s garb,” you pointed out with a raised eyebrow, begging Tim to refute it, but he never did, so you continued. “Besides the hood and all, it’s just a boring Red Robin costume, but Red Robin,” you sighed and whipped out your phone to show Tim all the photos you’d captured of him over the years for your Batman blog. “He’s different.”

“Woah, déjà vu…” He muttered to himself and you let out a questioning noise. “I, uh, used to follow around Batman and Robin too.”

“No way,” you smiled widely. “We should go out together sometime then. With the two of us, we’ll be unstoppable!” He continued to scroll through your blog distractedly. “I haven’t been out to photograph since I moved out here, but I’ve been wanting to get back out there sometime soon.”

“I’d be down,” Tim nodded as he zoomed in on a particularly spicy photo that had somewhat blown up on your blog. “Seems like you always go for a, uh… certain angle?”

You blushed and snatched your phone away. “It’s not like I can exactly repel up buildings like them to get a normal angle.”

“So, basically, you have a Red Robin ass-shot fanpage?” He teased, handing you back your phone.

You laughed at his accurate analysis. “I guess so,” you pocketed your phone and stood up. “I have to get heading out now, but if you ever want a large print of one of my pics, just let me know,” you nudged him lightly, teasing him right back.

“It was really nice chatting with you,” he said, also getting up.

You nodded. “Nice chatting with someone who gets it.” You’d meant the comic book part because his brothers teased you relentlessly about it, but your statement seemed to be misconstrued by Tim as it made him blush brightly.

Deep red stained Tim’s pale, striking cheekbones. “For sure,” he seemed like he wanted to say something else, but instead just ran a bony hand through his loose locks. “See you around,” he said your name. As he turned to walk off with a tiny wave, he came upon the ruckus heading directly your way.

You heard trampling from behind you and turned just in time to see Jason and Roy shoving each other down the stairs.

"Oh," Jason drawled, schooling a bored face as he stared at the small space between you and Tim. "You’re still here?”

“Fuck off,” you turned on your heel and walked to the front door, still annoyed that they took edibles rather than help with the project. You waved to them and headed for the door.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Roy said, appearing out of nowhere with a strong hand on your shoulder to prevent you from going anywhere further. “We got you, babe-princess,” he looked back to Jason, who seemed extremely unamused by Roy's second nickname mix-up of the day. “You down for another motorcycle threesome?”

You gawked and turned to Tim quickly to set things straight. “I’ve never been down for that, but,” you turned back to Jason and Roy and admitted, “I do need a ride.”

Tim walked out to the front with you guys as if wanting to see the motorcycle set up for himself. Based on his wrinkled nose, he didn’t approve of the intimate proximity between the three of you. If he really was bothered, he didn’t really show it as he still elected to wave at you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said your name and walked back into the manor.

“You got a goal to fuck everyone in the mansion, or what?” Jason’s bitter voice cut through your daydreaming.

“Definitely not the two of you, that’s for sure. Dick, though…” You sighed extra dreamily just to piss him off.

“Just get on the bike.” Came Jason’s gruff response.

It had worked, you thought to yourself with a smile, and it wasn’t even true. You totally would bang any of them in a heartbeat- have they seen themselves? Everyone in the house looked like they'd strutted straight off the catwalk of Paris Fashion Week.

“When did you meet Dick?” Came Roy’s faux-nonchalant question, “I haven’t seen him around recently.”

“We played one game together, figures she’d already be attached to him.” Jason seemed a lot more upset than you’d expected, but why? Also, Jason hadn’t even technically been there when you’d first met Dick, so what did he even know?

“And yet, whose bike am I on?” You snatched the helmet from his hand to shove on your head. The ride to your apartment goes by quickly and is mainly drowned out by Jason blasting some angsty music. When you pulled up, they looked at you expectantly. “What?” You handed Jason back his helmet, hopping off Roy’s lap. “You want to come inside or something?” You’d only been joking, but they seemed to take it very seriously as they both dismounted swiftly to follow you into the apartment complex. “Woah, I was just kidding.”

“No takebacks,” Jason insisted, but you were too busy internally worrying about them seeing your pathetic apartment to truly be bothered by his resoluteness.

“Alright,” you turned to go inside but hesitated enough for Roy, who was following behind you, to notice.

He quickly came to your side. “We don’t have to, you know?” It was muttered somewhat privately between the two of you as Jason was more preoccupied with the safety of his bike. “I definitely get it.” Did he, though? Your face must have expressed this because he merely laughed. “Listen, my uncle, Ollie may be rich, but before him, well, not so much,” he trailed off. “So, in that sense, I guess I get it?” He seemed uncomfortable bearing all this information with you, but you felt more at ease because of it.

“I,” you placed a light hand on his shoulder in appreciation, “Yeah.” You weren’t so good with the being open part either. At least he was able to get out an actual sentence, you admonished yourself. “Definitely difficult living here and going to school in Bristol too,” you shrugged. It was the truth and it seemed to be the primary reason almost everyone at school treated you like slimy trash beneath their Prada dress shoes.

“For sure, princess,” you blushed at the intimacy that leaked out from his voice. “Like I said earlier, ‘us Star City kids gotta stick together,’” you nodded, looking anywhere but into his hypnotizing green eyes. From this close, you could clearly see the light freckles that dotted his pale face.

“You guys good?” Jason finally appeared behind you, wrapping a hand around your shoulder. “Is he bothering you?”

Roy slapped at Jason’s shoulder, effectively smooshing you between the two of them. It was a feeling that was becoming increasingly familiar to you and you definitely weren’t hating it. “Dude!”

“What?!” Jason pushed back at him, smooshing you into Roy now, who pushed back and smooshed you into Jason’s side.

“Okay, not that I’m not loving this whole tug-of-war game here, but we really shouldn’t be just standing outside in this neighborhood,” you said, pushing them apart with both arms. “Are you guys coming up or not?” You stepped forward, turning around with a questioning gaze, efficiently commanding their attention.

The sun was starting to set and you didn’t want to wait around for it to get much darker than it already was. You definitely weren’t about to get mugged just because these dumbasses wanted to wrestle on the concrete.

They look at you and nodded dumbly.

“Good,” you said, motioning them inside, where they followed behind you like lost puppies. It was kind of cute, you thought to yourself with a light smile. “They say this place is haunted or some shit,” you were making small conversation as you led them to the elevator and clicked your floor, but not before a seemingly intoxicated man could board as well. "I think people are just scared of old, broken-down shit, though."

The building was obviously dilapidated, with outdated aesthetics peeling and chipping into the rotting corpse of the building's barely withstanding core. Fluorescent flickering of sickening green glows throughout, well, the lights that were working, that is.

Without a second glance your way, both Roy and Jason herded you from the middle of the only working elevator to stand between the two of them.

You’d never seen the man around before, but you were glad you’d invited Roy and Jason in, if not just for the numbers. He didn’t seem right and with his blatant staring at you, you were becoming more uncomfortable with each passing second.

You cursed the slow-ass elevator for taking its damn time.

“You didn’t click a floor, my dude,” Roy tried to sound light as he addressed the man. You looked up at Jason to see him clenching his jaw tightly. Meanwhile, Roy seemed calmer, yet reserved about the unfolding creepy situation. “What number can I hit for you?”

Instead of an answer, there’s a bone-chilling bark of laughter. All eyes shifted to the man now with a steadily growing feeling of unease. “I got my floor,” his dark, hollowed eyes never leaving your own. You glared at him, but all he did was smile back with a haunting grin.

The elevator ‘dinged!’ and opened up to your floor, but no one moved.

A couple of things could’ve happened, you figured as you looked around at the overwhelming amount of testosterone leaking into the small elevator car. One: Roy could attempt to dissuade the drunk man with his charm to get him to not follow you back to the apartment and everyone would leave unharmed, plus creepy dude wouldn’t know where you lived. Or, two: Jason would unleash his white-knuckled, clenched fist on the drunk dude, knocking him around and an all-out war would shake the entire unstable car until it threatened to fall.

However, neither of those things happened. Well, rather a combination of Roy’s charm and Jason’s unhinged hostility.

“‘M afraid I can’t let you follow our little lady over here, so if this is your floor, you better hop out now, dude,” Roy was smiling, but it didn’t meet his usually warm eyes at all. No, this was a hostile and frightening grimmace under the guise of a smile.

“We’re all men here, right?” It was completely slurred, but you were able to make out what he’d said.

Your heart pounded frantically with every second that ticked on.

“That we are,” Roy’s lips grew tighter, essentially baring his teeth at that point. “Let’s get a move on, bud.”

The man, however, didn’t head the warning and continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We’re men, we know what we’re doing. I know what you're both doing.” He gestured drunkenly to them, then to you. “Just like she knows what she’s doing. 'Specially when they walk around in them little school girl uniforms askin’ for it-”

Jason’s capriciousness is unleashed in a well-timed fist to the face, effectively cutting off the sleazy man’s ramblings.

One punch is all it takes for the man to crumble to the elevator floor.

You couldn’t help the gasp that slipped from your mouth and into the silent car at the display of violence that took place in front of you. It was only in the aftermath that the true weight of the situation fell upon you.

If you’d been alone… You didn’t have to say it out loud because it’d been what you’d all already been thinking.

As you left the elevator in heavy silence, your stomach swirled and churned with unease at the memory of his black eyes. It was as if he could somehow see beneath your clothes.

You felt completely dirty and utterly nauseated.

Probably for the best, you realized with a sigh, considering you didn’t have any food to cook, but that was something to think about once Roy and Jason left. You hated to admit that, the thought of them leaving didn’t quell any lingering nausea. After all, they’d been the ones who’d saved you.

What would you have been able to do alone?

You’d been apparently staring at the front of your apartment door for too long because Jason and Roy both cleared their throats. You shook your head, robotically going through the familiar motion of pulling out your keys and unlocking the door as if on autopilot. No, you knew you were on autopilot because you kept forgetting Roy and Jason’s presence.

It was odd hearing voices and movement around the apartment. You weren't alone, per se, but with every rippling ache reverberating throughout the fog in your skull, you knew you were mentally alone.

“Where are your parents?”

You winced at the question, not having the energy to play it off.

No ‘are you okay?’, no ‘how are you feeling?’- no. It was the most invasive question you’d wanted to avoid this whole time. It was quite literally the entire reason that you hadn’t wanted them to come up in the first place.

You came out of your brain fog long enough to see them both looking around at the completely bare walls. You’re sure it was because it clearly lacked the normal familial clutter they were used to.

You would never tell them but, ever since you were eight, you’d begun the process of raising yourself in your parent's absence.

They were addicted to gambling, robbing and anything to do with money. Some might even consider them common thieves, you would just consider them absent addicts. They meant almost nothing to you. There was a small part of you that wished for a normal family life where your parents were more focused on taking you apple picking in the fall and swimming at the pool in the summer rather than their next fix of dirty money.

Jason noticed you were seeming to respond again and slowly approached you, “Would you want to stay at the manor tonight?”

Roy looked concerned like he wanted to ask something more, but instead, he let you take your time answering. Seeing their brows knit together with worry only made your stomach churn more.

You considered the offer, but you were used to dealing with this side of town. At least, so you tried to convince yourself. If anything, tonight was a grim reminder that you really didn’t stand a chance in these parts, even against some piss-drunk fuck.

“No,” you cleared your throat after hearing how small and pathetic it sounded. You wanted to shower and burn your uniform.

“I’m sorry, but it had nothing to do with what you were wearing and everything to do with him being an absolute pedophile.” You must’ve let the last part slip out in your half-minded state but couldn’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed by Roy comforting you.

Roy looked to Jason, who merely nodded, “We can teach you self-defense that could help you in those situations if they ever happen again.”

You looked up into Jason’s emerald eyes, but your gaze was evidently dull and unfocused, “Maybe another time.” You wanted for them to leave and stay at the same time. It was just like how you wanted to shower, knew you needed to, but refused to move from the spot you’d been standing in since arriving.

They said your name in unison and then looked between themselves with concerned looks. “We can stay here? If that would be more comfortable?” Jason finally broke the silence.

“At least while you shower!” Roy chirped with kind eyes that begged yours to meet his own. You couldn’t.

They didn’t want to leave you…?

“Yeah,” you were too tired for words. Finally, you forced yourself to take step after step as the man’s voice repeated itself over and over again in your head.

You walked to the hallway dead ahead and into the bathroom before turning on the shower.

Your hamper was in the closet in the hallway that faced the living room where Roy and Jason were currently stationed. In your haze-clouded brain, you didn’t seem to notice or care as you walked back into the hallway to strip in front of the hamper. You made quick work of discarding your ruined uniform, throwing it onto the heap of your other dirty clothes, not caring if Roy or Jason saw as you continued the motions of your usual routine.

You returned to the bathroom and immediately stepped into its cold spray, not having had the patience to wait for it to heat up, though you regretted it instantly with a pathetic hiss. Soon, the shower had heated up to where you’d turned the nozzle all the way to red. You reveled in the scalding water that singed your skin red in its wake.

You were clean. No, not completely clean, but definitely cleaner than you'd been in the elevator. You miserably realized that you would never truly feel clean when you could still picture and hear everything.

Eventually, you heard a knock on the door, reminding you that you of your company.

“What?” It came out harsh, but you couldn't help but be somewhat upset at being pulled from your pitiful spiraling.

“Just checking on you,” came Jason’s gentle voice. “Roy headed out to get something for us to eat and maybe some groceries.”

Your stomach growled loudly enough that you’re sure Jason heard it. You were embarrassed that, by now, they’d probably gone through your empty cabinet and fridge.

You didn’t respond, so you assumed Jason had gone back to the living room while you finished washing off your fourth round of suds. It was only in the foggy after-haze of your shower that you stepped out into your towel that you realized how rude you were being. You hope they wouldn’t hold it against you after everything they'd done to help you.

You just weren’t in the right mindset right now.

Emerging from the bathroom, a wall cloud of steam billowed out from behind your small form. You stepped out into the hall and nearly tripped over Jason, who was stationed right outside the bathroomon the floor, in the process.

“Woah!” He caught you in his arms before you could fall face-first to the floor. “I got you,” he said your name as he righted you and helped you stand.

He looked away as you fiddled with your towel and headed into your room, shutting the door lightly behind you. You didn't care that it didn’t click into place, leaving a slight path of light from hallway into your own. You used this light to pull on your most basic t-shirt and short PJ set, seeing as the superhero ones didn’t appeal to you at the moment for some reason. You still do pull on your bat signal socks, though, before walking back out into the living room.

Jason looked you up and down from where he slouched on the couch, but his eyes revealed nothing and you weren’t fully there enough to analyze it further.

You hadn’t shaved in a few days, so stubble showed across your bare legs that were normally covered by your uniform socks, but you didn’t give a fuck. It didn’t seem like Jason cared either as he tore his eyes away from your exposed legs to meet your eyes. “Do you want to talk about anything?” It was Jason’s way of asking if you wanted to talk about it.

“What’s there to talk about? Grown men suck.” It had been an understatement. “They ruin everything.” You’d be stuck picturing the elevator ride from tonight every time you’d get in it.

Jason laughed slightly in agreement. “I know,” he shifted a bit on the couch so he could better face you. “It’s good you know it’s not your fault though, right? You didn’t do anything or cause this in any way.”

Jason was very clearly trying to let you know that it was the dude’s problem, not yours. It’d been something you’d been thinking about since the incident.

You, however, were mostly worried about what would happen once Jason and Roy left and it was just you in the building by yourself again. What would you do if you ran into that man again? What if he stalked your floor door-by-door until he found you? You hoped he’d be drunk enough to forget everything, but you couldn’t be sure.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Roy walked in with piles of plastic to-go containers that stacked up way overtop of his red hair.

“Solved our little problem,” he set down the bags on your laminate kitchen counters, doing a double take when he saw you sitting on the couch next to Jason. “The food problem, that is!” He rushed to cover his previous statement for some unknown reason. “Who’s hungry?”

Jason snorted and got up to help Roy unpack the Chinese food. “We all are, idiot.”

You thought back to the two edibles they’d eaten earlier and imagined they’d have the munchies at this point. It was only then that the redness in both of their eyes became apparent, making each of their unique green colors stand out even more than usual.

The munchies definitely explain the shit ton of food that’s being shoved onto the small amount of counter space you had.

“There’s only three of us,” you said quietly, motioning to the eight food containers.

“I know, but you’re a princess, so I gotta bring you a feast,” he smiled with crinkled eyes, but all you could think about was the terrifying one he’d shot at the drunk man in the elevator.

Your eyes glazed over once again, heart pounding after suddenly being thrown back into that moment. You stare down at your feet.

“What do you want?” Jason’s gentle voice washed over you, forcing you to focus back on the options in front of you.

You shrugged, not feeling too hungry, all things considered, “Whatever's good.”

Another glance between them, but you were too tired to care, let alone read more into it. You found yourself walking back to the couch where you curled into the blanket that you kept on the arm of it.

Roy handed Jason your plate and his before making his way over to you on the couch, “Want me to turn something on?”

Truthfully, you hadn’t even bothered to try and turn the thing on yet. “I only get news channels,” you lied.

“I have Hulu on my phone?” He suggested as he handed you his phone to flip through the options. “Just pick something and I think I can AirPlay it to your TV.”

You clicked on Andrew Garfield in a Spider-Man outfit, then handed it back to Roy. He fiddled for a second with his phone and the TV until it popped up on the flat screen your parents had stolen from your neighbors when you’d moved from your old place to here. It was a pleasant surprise that it worked, seeing as every other TV they'd stolen (and hadn’t pawned) never did.

Jason squeezed in between you and Roy, balancing three plates piled high with random Chinese goodness like a professional waiter. He distributed two of them out to you and Roy and kept the last for himself.

“You have good taste in spider men,” Roy attempted to joke and get you to nerd out, but you were more focused on eating with your tumultuous stomach. “We could teach you Spidey self-defense,” he obnoxiously pretends to shoot off webs like Spider-Man and even makes cute little noises to go with it.

You smiled a bit finally at that, leaving Roy to beam at the sight.

Jason pretended to be absorbed in the food, but you saw how his eyes lingered on your smile just a bit longer than normal. You knew he was glad to see you coming out of your fog a bit more.

You thought back to the moment and realized how different it could’ve gone if you’d been able to actually defend yourself. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all?

“I think it would be good for me to know that.” It definitely couldn’t hurt. “It happened so fast,” you looked at both of them with fearful eyes. “If you guys hadn’t walked me up, I would’ve been alone.”

They nodded gravely.

It’s only then you feel the tears spill out of your eyes.

You’d always been alone, you were used to being alone, but this time you weren’t and, because of it, something awful was prevented from happening. You tried to stifle your sniffling quietly so they wouldn’t notice, but it was fruitless. The first sob slipped out without permission, gaining both of their attention. They swiftly took care of the plates before wrapping you and your blanket cocoon in their arms, holding on tightly.

“I’m sorry that this happened to you,” Roy spoke first, with his deep rumble cutting through your silent cries. “We both are.”

You felt their hands lightly tracing patterns on your back and laugh somewhat when their hands met near the middle of your back. They both immediately pull away with hurried ‘sorry’s’ and mumbled excuses. You yawned, pulling them both back to curl around you and snuggled your head onto Roy’s chest, who stilled instantly at the sudden contact. You felt him glance up at Jason, who merely curled against your back, lightly leaning his head on Roy’s and on top of your own. You tucked your head under his chin and furrowed further into Roy’s exposed collar bones.

Once you and Jason were settled, Roy kicked his feet up onto your coffee table and got comfortable himself.

“Don’t suppose you’d want to sleep in a bed?” He whispered, but the even breathing coming from your small body against him was the only answer he received.

•

You floated through school the next day, completely preoccupied with the events that took place last night both in the elevator and your apartment. Damian could either sense it like some freaky pack animal shit or, more likely, Jason had told him. You figured this to be true because Damian refused to leave your side the entire day, even going so far as to insist on you spending the night at the manor. You wouldn’t refuse and had already prepared for it by bringing your daily essentials with you in your backpack to lessen the number of trips you’d need to take back to the apartment.

Stephanie and Tim joined you, Jason and Roy at lunch, which helped keep your mind off of everything. That is, aside from the fact that everyone was walking on eggshells and shooting you the most pitiful glances that made your stomach knot.

Damian was the most tolerable, aside from Jason and Roy who’d woken up with you. For the most part, though, none of them were pressing further. There was a part of him that seemed like he was holding back from saying something to you, but he never convinced himself to actually spit it out. It was just as well, you’d already grown tired of the topic and tired of feeling the cacophony of emotions that always followed.

You truly owed Roy and Jason so much for stopping that man. You didn’t know how you’d ever make it up to them.

You walked home with the group, mainly trying to keep up appearances when they brought you into the conversation, but Damian made sure to keep you somewhat involved and distracted from your thoughts.

You were brought back to the present by Damian rehashing gossip he’d picked up on in the class you missed yesterday. You could hardly keep up with people’s first names, let alone their last names, enough to actually know who Damian was referring to. In the end, you were just glad for the noise. It was nice not to have to talk when you were still feeling so out of it.

“And she said that she didn’t fornicate with him and that it was all a ‘simple misunderstanding.’” Damian was flapping his hands around dramatically in frustration at the story. “How do you accidentally fornicate?” He pointed a finger at you to further his point. “And, coming from her, it’s rich, seeing as last year at the 8th grade party she couldn’t keep her sloppy ass away from…” You tuned him out as Jason and Roy sped by on his motorcycle, flipping you all off. “And Elliot, being her nosey self-”

“That’s rich,” you joked lightly, not realizing you'd accidentally cut him off.

His eyes sparkled at the sight of your small smile, “Whatever. I know you live for the drama, too.”

You fled from his intense, hazel gaze to stare back down at Tim’s pristine sneakers on the sidewalk directly in front of you.

“So long as it’s not about me, I guess,” you tried, but it fell flat.

Damian picked up where he left off, not allowing you to bask in the silence long enough for what happened last night to resurface. “I personally didn’t even want to go to the party, but Father made me.” Damian looked for a reaction and when you gave none, he continued. “I wore a fine tuxedo, but everyone else dressed down for some reason.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, imagining Damian showing up to the summer pool party in a three-piece suit.

“Hush,” he said your last name with gentle mirth. You hadn’t realized until that point that Stephanie and Tim had long stopped talking, but Damian didn’t seem to care or notice. “I wish we would’ve known each other then. It surely would’ve been more enjoyable with your company,” he confessed as he looked at you out of the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sure I would’ve had fun with you too.” You thought about what you would’ve worn, what the pool looked like, etc.

“I suppose we could go to the homecoming dance together next month,” he was still looking at you with a vulnerability you’d never seen from him before. “It’s not exactly the same, but it might make up for your previous absence.”

You shrugged, “Yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”

You locked eyes again and he lightly smiled. “We always do what I want to do when we’re here,” Damian said once you’d reached the manor. “So, what would you want to do?”

You thought back to your bare kitchen and how fully stocked his had been. “Would you want me to teach you to bake?”

“I heard bake!” Roy yelled from the kitchen, where he and Jason were in the middle of making enough sandwiches to feed at least eight people.

You and Damian wandered into the kitchen after bidding Tim and Stephanie goodbye. You were starting to get a hunch that they were a thing… You’d have to remember to ask Damian later.

Whatever they were, it seemed off today.

Jason ended up helping you more than Damian or Roy did, that is, until Jason started sneezing and coughing and Damian told him to scram. Well, less told and more demanded.

Roy headed out a bit after Jason left and while the scones were still chilling in the fridge. He left after giving you a big hug and a head ruffle to Damian, making him huff in annoyance.

“Call me if you need anything,” Roy was cut off by Damian slamming the door behind him, but you could still hear Roy’s laughter through the thick, wooden door.

“I’ll never pretend to understand why you’re hanging out with them all of a sudden,” Damian turned his scowl on you. He suddenly seemed to remember the night you’d had and sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. “Never mind, I’m just glad you’re here,” his voice trailed off with a slight rasp. Recently you’d noticed more voice cracks that became less sporadic throughout the weeks and that the voice you’d met had been slightly changing each day.

You snorted, “You don’t need to go all soft on me because of what happened.”

“You have no family either.”

You winced even though he hadn’t meant it as a jab. “Yeah, that too. Glad you’re caught up on everything,” you pushed past him abruptly to pull the chilled dough from the fridge and put it into the preheated oven. “Guess that’s why Tim wouldn’t talk to me today.”

“It’s not him.” Damian seemed willing to give you whatever information you wanted to stop being mad at him. “He and Brown are on the rocks.”

“I knew they were a thing!” You exclaimed, turning around with the dirty mixing bowl in your hands. And, as you recalled, you also felt like something was off between them in the foyer early, too.

Damian took the bowl and placed it in the sink, “Anyone with eyes could see that, stupid,”

“Whatever,” you jumped up onto the counter, then remembered it wasn’t your house and shamefully slid down, hoping Damian wouldn’t notice. He did. He jumped onto the counter and pat the spot next to him somewhat demandingly.

“The only person who uses the kitchen is Pennyworth and Todd, so no one will care about your ass or mine being on here,” you snorted and hopped back up and boop’ed his nose. He’d been nothing but helpful and understanding in how to approach what happened and you were extremely appreciative. He looked at you like you’d grown a third eye. “What’s your deal,” he said your name in a deep voice you’d never heard from him before, sending shivers down your spine.

What was with you? This was your friend... He didn't like you like that.

Your faces were inches apart without you even realizing it, but he seemed suddenly spooked by the close proximity. Yeah, he definitely didn't like you like that and, to be honest, you didn't know if you did either. It was almost as if you were addicted to the intoxicating feeling of being wanted and that's what you held fast to.

You were just backing away from him when a deep voice cleared slightly, causing you both to turn immediately to the source- Bruce Wayne.

He walked over near the sink to grab an apple without a glance in Damian's or your direction. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” You slipped from the counter bashfully, even after Damian reassured you it wasn’t an issue, but you didn’t dare break eye contact with the older man. It was seemingly a challenge from the infamous playboy and you were more than willing to meet it head-on.

You smiled as genuinely as you could while simultaneously preventing yourself from shitting your pants, well, skirt, on the spot under his intense inspection. You told him your name with only the slightest wobble in your tone as you smoothed down the tweed fabric that had ridden up as you slipped off the counter. “It’s nice to meet you properly, Mr. Wayne.”

"Call me Bruce," he chuckled politely and threw the red apple into the air before catching it quickly. “I’m sure I don’t have to make excuses for my sons at this point, though, if you’ve been hanging around my youngest.”

“His only,” Damian muttered. It’s only then that you felt like you could look back at him for support. When you turned around, you were met with the sight him hunched over with crossed arms on the counter.

“I see my point has been proven,” he winked at you, leaving you to genuinely laugh.

Damian tch’ed.

“I’m making scones if you’d like some,” you pointed at his state-of-the-art oven. “Jason got sick yesterday at the diner-” You stopped and looked up at Bruce hesitantly. “After school?” You tried to mend your statement, but it was in vain. You weren't used to having to cover anything up for adults seeing as you answered to no one. “Anyway, it’s his recipe and I wanted to make him something,” you shrugged and trailed off lamely. You made eye contact with anything but the attractive man in front of you who towered over you without even trying.

You didn’t want to mention that Jason had also helped save you from an attack last night, but you assumed Bruce already knew, anyway.

“That’s the whole reason I came in here,” he ignored your admittance to skipping and, instead, moved to open the over to see the dough browning. “It smells delicious.”

The older man who’d taken you home the first time you visited walked in soon after Bruce and also commented on the smell. “I assumed Master Jason was in here, but it seems like you might just take my job, Miss,” he said your name and you smiled lightly. “Master Damian, see to it that the proper accommodations are ready for your friend,” he turned to you once again, “You will be staying for dinner, Miss?”

You awkwardly looked back at Damian, who was blatantly staring at you. “Only if it’s no hassle.” You still had lots of leftover Chinese at home, but you didn’t feel safe there on your own quite yet.

“Of course not, Miss,” he said your last name again and bowed out of the room.

Bruce was about to follow but hesitated and faced you again. You looked up at him expectantly, making him falter slightly. It’d been evident enough that Damian noticed and decided to comment on.

“What?” He spat at his father.

Bruce gave him an admonishing glance, “If you ever feel unsafe or just want to come over, you’re welcome here any time.”

Your heart swelled at the offer and you couldn't deny that you felt your eyes start to glisten, “That means a lot.” It'd been a long 24 hours.

He nodded and gave you and Damian one last look before following after the older man. “I’ll be back for the scones.” He shot you a smile that you returned easily.

“Father approves of you,” Damian said as soon as Bruce was out of earshot.

“How? I basically told him I skipped school with your brother,” you glanced at him incredulously as you moved to take the scones out of the oven.

“I’m not related to those fools,” Damian said with a slight voice crack. You laughed and he glared unappreciatively in response. “Let’s go see if Alfred set up your bed.”

“What do you mean?” There were so many rooms you highly doubted Bruce would want two 14-year-olds of the opposite sex sleeping in the same room.

“There’s an air mattress.”

“So, I sleep in your bed?” You raised a brow.

“Pfft, don’t be ridiculous,” he said your last name. “I would never sleep on such a contraption.”

“Gee, sounds comfortable. Can’t wait,” you said sarcastically.

“You’ll enjoy it,” he hopped down from the counter while you fanned off the scones. Damian mischievously grabbed one and sneakily pulled it away before you could smack it out of his hand, “Too slow.”

“That’s because you’re a fucking ninja or something,” you snorted. “And I’ll take your word on the mattress,” you placed a few scones on a plate and motioned for him to follow you to Jason’s room with some help from your friend to find it.

You knocked on his door lightly and heard shuffles, then a sneeze, then a curse, then the door opened. The sight that met you had you nearly dropping the scones had it not been for Damian and Jason’s quick, cat-like reflexes. You gazed up beet red at a shirtless Jason, which matched the crimson of his red boxers that matched your obvious blush.

"What?"

“I- we made you scones,” you shoved them into his arms and turned on your heel before he could thank you, well, actually before you could make an even greater embarrassment of yourself.

“Thanks, I guess,” Jason called after you, but you didn’t bother to turn around as you continued toward the art room for refuge.

Damian caught up to you easily. “Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” You snapped.

You weren’t in the mood to have your capricious hormones tested when his were obviously doing the same with all his recent, very comical, you might add, voice cracks. You turned around to give him one of his signature glares as a warning to drop it.

He looked into your eyes, then at your blush and huffed, “If that’s all it takes, then… Never mind.”

“Good,” you huffed right back and turned away from him. You suddenly noticed a new painting he’d done that was still drying. You walked towards it, analyzing the somehow aggressive, sharp strokes from a watercolor brush. “It's safe to say your style translates across any medium.”

He came up behind you, already knowing which painting you were looking at. It was your face, after all.

“And what style is that?”

You look at him for a moment, then back at the canvas. “These lines you do are always sharp and heavy, even in watercolor. It looks like you were moments away from ripping through the paper but didn’t,” you looked closer at it. “It’s really beautiful. Can I keep it?”

He regarded you for a moment, hesitating briefly. “Are you sure you want it? I can make a better one of you,” he motioned you to sit in one of the expensive-looking armchairs that adorned the room.

You shrugged, glad for the distraction and leaned back in the chair with your legs crossed over one another to conceal your underwear in your tweed skirt. You rested your elbow that was closest to the window down onto the arm of the chair and brought that hand to rest lightly and effortlessly against your rosy cheek.

Damian’s eyes slid up and down your body with a heavy gaze, then seemed to remember the task at hand and picked up his brush to dip into varying shades of reddish-pink and green. “Why those colors?”

“They remind me of you,” he didn’t bother glancing up from the canvas to answer you until moments later when he needed to reference you. “You’re very curved, which makes it more satisfying to draw your shapes.”

“Thanks, I think?” You laughed but stopped after Damian reprimanded you for messing up your pose. “Sorry, sorry,” you did your best to smooth your face back down. “I don’t think I’ve seen a single curved line in any of your work yet.”

“That’s because I’ve never had a live model before,” he was definitely staring at your tits now, which were very prominently on display in your long sleeve, v-neck shirt.

“Damian Wayne’s first live model. What a prestigious yet oddly creepy title to be given.”

He smirked, “Just stay still, would you?” You followed his orders and returned back to your original position. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

You subconsciously touched your lips. “No, why?”

“They look nice,” he said without looking up. “You don’t wear makeup, do you?”

“Sometimes I do, I don’t know. I don’t really think about it all too much,” his brows knitted together in concentration while he analyzed your features with careful precision. “Have you ever worn makeup?” You countered his question.

He regarded you with an odd face, “Not willingly, no.”

“But you have?” You were surprised to hear Damian had walked around with anything on his face. You assumed maybe he was talking about concealer before going to a Wayne event, but you couldn’t imagine anything more than that.

He sighed and put his brush down. “Drake and Brown thought it’d be funny to hold me down and put a whole bunch of shit on my face when I was like nine,” you barked out an unexpected laugh at the imagery. “It wasn’t fucking funny,” he glared at you. “Whatever,” he said when you wouldn’t shut up and picked back up the brush to capture your smiling face.

“I bet you looked beautiful,” you were part teasing, part being honest. Damian had truly stunning features that could definitely be highlighted through a little liquid eyeliner and smoked-out eyeshadow.

“Fuck off.” From where you were, you could see Damian’s painting process. It was as if you were there for reference but only second to where his hand already wanted to go. Almost like he was possessed by an already mapped-out picture in his mind. The brush slid across the canvas at an alarming pace for what seemed like forever as it scattered from the cup, to the paints, to the canvas. “I’m almost done with the main outline. I can finish the rest without you needing to pose.”

“Alright,” you yawned, asking Damian for the time.

“It’s almost time for dinner. Let me just finish up,” he dipped the brush in the water a few more times, making dramatic, long lines across the canvas before setting down the brush. After a moment of inspecting his work, he called you over to look.

“Oh, wow.” To say he made you look incredible was an understatement- you looked like an actual goddess. He’d captured every minute detail about you in this outline, even on account of the challenging new medium he was using. “Damian, this is crazy good. I can’t even believe how little time it took you to make this!” He didn’t know how to react to the praise, which only made you want to continue to stroke his ego. “I think I’ll need you to teach me how to paint people with watercolors because I sure as fuck can’t.”

“Please,” he waved you off with warm cheeks. “I merely used the techniques you showed me. You’re just being modest.”

“Whatever,” you blew him off, staring at all the little details. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.” You added the last part at the last second.

Damian shifted under your attention uncomfortably. “We better not be late to dinner, or Pennyworth will have our heads.”

You couldn’t quite place a person like Damian Wayne, not then, at least. Would you ever be able to? That was something you weren’t sure of.

“Alright, let’s go.”

A/N: one of my faves chaps so far! what r u thinking- let me know!

in case you missed it- here's a link to the spotify playlist! (it's also linked on the masterlist seen below :p)

[next] || masterlist || pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

#reader x jason todd x roy harper #jayroy #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #reader x roy harper #my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds #my fic:ars

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stevetonyweekly · 2 years

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SteveTony Weekly - Oct 23

Welcome back! I didn’t read as much as I wanted this week, but there’s some delicious stories here.

***Marks my recent favorites

~*~

Gold Standard by hailtherandom

Thor brings home some Asgardian mead as a present to the Avengers. Steve discovers that its magical properties allow him to get drunk. Everyone, especially Tony, is a fan of this.

for whom the elk bugles by starksnack

Pepper forces Tony to spend a week at Yellowstone connecting with his natural side. He connects with Park Ranger Steve Rogers instead.

Everyone I Have Ever Slept With by jellybeanforest

Intimacy takes on many forms, not all of them sexual.

Steve being taken care of is just. Very soft and I love it.

I'm Afraid You're Never Satisfied

It was no secret that Omegas loved to be knotted. But Steve loved it a bit more than most, especially with Tony doing the knotting.

Needy Steve, and Tony being so very good to him. Just short and smutty

Vibing Hard by KandiSheek

Steve's health issues have kept him from having sex or even masturbating all throughout his early years. So when he gets the serum and experiences orgasm for the first time, he veers hard onto the path of addiction. He jerks off so much that it's starting to interfere with his day to day life. Luckily Tony is right there to help him get his life back on track.

Size Doesn't Matter by izazov

An incident results in Steve reverting to his pre-serum body. It may be the worst thing that has happened to Tony Stark. Or the best.

I really love Steve being insecure. It’s one of my favorite things and it’s usually not something we see.

After All of the Sparks [You're Still Alone in the Dark] by BewareTheIdes15

Tony has always struggled with the concepts of positive versus negative attention.

Ahh, Steve taking control and taking care of a self-destructive Tony.

***Same old story. by orphan_account

“We’re toasting our regrets,” Tony explains. “Your turn."

“Oh,” Steve says.

It takes him a long minute to think of something. Or, more likely, it takes him a long moment to work up the courage. But then he turns and raises his bottle to Tony. Looks him dead in the eyes, a sad, sort of wistful smile on his face, and says, “You.”

Post Endgame, Tony and Steve find each other in the best way possible.

looks like rain, dear by starksnack

Tony's a famous actor who's just had a major controversy hits the news and his manager decides he needs to get off the grid for a while, so she sends him to Alaska - cue Tony trying to be incognito and learn how to live in the middle of the frozen nowhere while dealing with his feelings for the most eligible bearded bachelor in the area, Steve.

It’s very Hallmark romance, but super cute and well done.

Earth's Mightiest Tree Farm by kaceywithak

In the six months he had become sole guardian to his nine year old nephew Peter, Tony Stark hadn't done much right. So when Peter asks to go upstate to tag a Christmas Tree, Tony quickly says yes.

Enter Tree Farm owner Steve Rogers, the world's sexiest lumberjack with a smile that could probably stop a war.

It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

Emergency Protocol by laireshi

Falling in love with Tony Stark has always been easy. That he's an artificial intelligence now changes nothing. Luckily, Tony will always catch him.

All Of You by tinystark616

Steve Rogers is good at everything he does. That's a fact — one that no one will ever argue against. But oh, if only they knew how good Steve Rogers is in bed.

Luckily, Tony is the only one who knows.

***Toy Soldiers by copperbadge

When Steve Rogers, five foot four and a hundred and ten pounds, met Tony Stark in a bar, he didn't expect it to lead to a relationship. Or that Tony would find out he's not an art student during a SHIELD rescue mission in Afghanistan.

I’m a big fan of this series, and how fierce and protective Steve is of Tony.

Weighing of the Heart by scifigrl47

Steve Rogers hasn't really had a particularly easy life. He's struggled along, he's proud of himself, he's self-sufficient and capable and he works damn hard. He has friends and a purpose and he's only a few semesters from graduating college. He's managed, but his life has been far from easy.

That's mostly because of a slight filing error.

The last thing that Steve needed was someone to watch over him. The only thing that his Guardian Angel needs is a second chance to make a first impression.

Guardian Angel Tony is something I didn’t know I needed, but--it’s fantastic. The worldbuilding is excellently done.

Rebuild by Anonymous

The first time Tony really notices that something’s up with Steve is- okay, to be honest it’s five seconds after seeing the guy again, come on, Tony has spent the latter of his life being the dictionary definition of hot mess, he recognizes a kindred spirit.

Or, the one where Tony is, for the first time in his life, one of the least screwed up members of the team.

Just team dynamics and Tony being slightly less messy than normal.

***Truth Behind Masks by scifigrl47

Steve Rogers has plenty of friends. He just doesn't know two of them are the same man.

That's just how Tony Stark/Iron Man likes it. Until he comes to regret it.

I really enjoyed this--identity porn is a favorite trope of mine, and this one handled it so well.

#stevetony #stevetony weekly #stony #stony fic #stony fic rec #fic rec #rec list #stevetony fic rec #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america

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amchara · 2 years

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Herondales Don't Fail: Ch. 1 - The London Institute

Ao3 / 1

Kit Herondale, Ty Blackthorn (Kit/Ty), original characters

Wordcount: 5,412 words

Rating: Mature

Summary: It’s been almost five years since an epic line-up of Shadowhunter heroes and their allies closed all the portals to Hell. Now, demons are scarce and the Nephilim are searching for their purpose in this new world. Centurion Ty Blackthorn has been sent to London to investigate a potential new threat, while Kit Herondale has taken up a post helping to rebuild the London Enclave.

Kit was happy to accept the London Institute’s invitation to assist in the rebuilding of the city’s Enclave. But he didn’t count on being blindsided into joining the competition to become its next head - or being hated by most of its inhabitants who assume he’s only there because of his name.

Notes: This is the Kit POV story of "The London Files", which are one-shot or multi-chaptered fics set post-The Wicked Powers. Established Kit / Ty relationship, where they're about 22-23 years old. Set in the same universe as Effortless (Or, the time Kit almost earned an A-Level) but you don't need to read it to follow the story, although it will add a bit more context to Kit's relationships to the OCs (Ade and Ellie) in this fic - basically, they are his school friends from Devon.

You can find the main case file stories here and other stories set in the same verse here. I would suggest also reading 'Weather Change' as it's basically a prologue to this story, although this one can still be read independently.

The morning of his first day at the London Institute Kit woke up with cold feet, morning glory and Ty staring at him like he might burn a hole in his forehead.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said Ty.

“Good morning too, love,” Kit said, with a groan. His head was intermittently aching and he suddenly remembered last night. He had come back in after his night out dancing with Ellie and had pounced on Ty, who had leapt up from his report-writing in eager reciprocation.

Kit looked down… yep, that was one huge hickey that he had on his left pec. And from previous history, he knew his neck probably looked like a drunk vampire had gotten at him.

Ty’s gaze dropped down to Kit’s fingers searching out his neck. “Don’t worry, we can iratze them before you have to head to the Institute.”

Kit suddenly felt nervous, remembering the day ahead. For comfort, he reached out to trace his finger down Ty’s cheek, from grey eyes framed by darkest eyelashes to his perfect jawline.

Ty closed his eyes. And then in a graceful movement, pulled Kit closer to him in the bed. His lips found Kit’s and they kissed with a tenderness that deepened after a few beats, Ty stroking his hair gently.

Kit broke the kiss reluctantly. “Ty- what time is it?” They’d been in London less than a week and he hadn’t adjusted to the timezone yet.

“5:45. You still have a couple hours before you need to leave,” Ty said, close to his ear, and in his voice, Kit could hear a dark thread promising a very good time in that intervening period. “Especially as you don’t have to drive in L.A. traffic.”

“That is the sexiest thing you’ve said to me in about.... five hours,” Kit said, pressing a quick kiss on Ty’s cheek. Who needed sleep, anyway? Particularly given their recent schedules… Kit would always seize the opportunity.

Ty lifted his head and his lips curved in a smile, eyes gleaming with smugness. “Good, as I still have several things I want to do before you leave this morning.”

He could feel Ty’s fingers tightening in his hair, directing his head back into a more advantageous angle that gave him access again to Kit’s neck, his other hand roaming downwards. Kit bit back a groan, and leaned into Ty’s shoulder.

But a conversation from the previous night right before they had fallen asleep popped into his head. Kit could feel Ty hovering over him, his lips stroking across his throat. He made his decision.

“No,” he said. Ty stopped. Kit’s hands reached up and disentangled Ty’s hand from his hair. “Pretty sure we had a deal last night-”

Ty pulled back, with a small pout on his lips. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” he admitted but a quick, shy glance upwards meant Kit was certain he was going to get his way.

“Oh- you can definitely go back to sucking later on,” Kit told him with a grin, letting his eyes drift downwards suggestively.

Ty smiled enigmatically and he looked at Kit with a sardonic eyebrow raised as if to say - why are you waiting?

Kit responded by rolling so he was on top, straddling him and an incomprehensible noise came from the back of Ty’s throat. He reached up for Kit- but Kit pinned his hands easily over his head and leaned over him, his long hair falling around him and tickling the sides of Ty’s face. “My turn,” he said.

Ty’s expression was of a person accepting their fate. “Okay,” he said, his voice full of desire and slight resignation.

Kit smiled. He would accept the rare victory of Ty Blackthorn giving up control.

An indeterminate time later, and Kit entered the downstairs kitchen, freshly showered and ravenous. He nodded at Anush who was standing and peering over Ty’s shoulder as Ty pointed to something on his laptop screen, talking in a low voice.

Anush was taking notes with fierce speed but managed to nod companionably as Kit crossed the brightly-lit kitchen. They both were dressed in smart trousers and collared shirts, with their Centurion pins flashing in the morning sunlight. “So we’ve considered that they may have stationed part of their network in France?” Kit heard him ask.

“Yes- but,” Ty paused in his explanation. He tilted his head as he watched Kit turn around, pushing up his sleeves, and Kit wistfully admired the sight. Before they arrived in London, it had been almost six months since he had spent more than a day or two alone with Ty. And given their first London patrol and Ty's injuries, Kit was just thankful he had the chance at all to admire Ty in the early morning light.

Admittedly, Anush wasn’t part of his domestic fantasy, but Kit supposed he had to make allowances, given how closely he and Ty worked together as Centurion partners.

But he had paused for too long, and he could see Ty about to ask a question. “You’re both starting early,” Kit said hurriedly, grabbing supplies for breakfast. He eyed the coffee machine with slight betrayal- he had sworn he had programmed it the previous night. Then he sighed - and stretched across the counter to turn the switch on at the wall.

They’d visited the Herondale townhouse on Curzon Street occasionally over the past couple of years - ever since he and Jace had collectively agreed to restore it back to being a liveable home instead of a museum relic - but infrequently enough Kit still sometimes forgot the fact wall sockets in the UK had to be turned on. The coffeemaker gurgled to life.

Ty rolled his eyes, distracted. “I still haven’t gotten the ban on bringing mundane equipment to the office lifted yet so Anush is taking physical notes for our meeting. It’s much less efficient,” he said, annoyance evident in his voice

“Give it time,” Kit said, grinning. “You’ve only been working there for a couple days- once they realise their best Centurion is being asked to do his work with one hand tied behind his back, they’ll lift that laptop ban.”

“Excuse me- TWO best Centurions here,” Anush said jokingly, leaning across the table to grab another thick pile of papers.

Ty gave Kit a small smile as he turned back to his screen. “I hadn’t realised how old-fashioned it would be here,” he said.

“They’re very traditional here still,” Anush agreed with a sigh. “Honestly, if we can get them to listen, it’d make our lives so much easier to use a computer rather than handwritten notes. Plus filing would be digital and super easy,” he said, looking at their stack of paperwork.

He turned back to Kit, who could see his sharp brown eyes scan up and down, a crease forming on his forehead. “Speaking of tradition… today’s your first day at the Institute right, Kit?”

“That’s right,” Kit said, and he narrowed his eyes in return, as he started eating his breakfast. “Something wrong with how I look?”

Anush shrugged as he held his hands up. “Nah, look man, you know I don’t care. But just so you’re aware… from what I’ve gathered in the week I’ve been here, the Centurion office takes its cue from the London Institute. Super traditional.”

Kit raised his eyebrows and looked down at his clothes. The pit in his stomach deepened and he could feel the previously-squashed down anxiety rising. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a small frown cross Ty’s face at Anush’s words.

Kit took a deep breath. “I’ve packed standard issue gear in my bag for training but-” he said, defiantly crossing his arms. “They asked for Kit Herondale, that’s who they’re getting.”

Anush snorted and Ty looked amused. “They’re definitely getting a Herondale,” Anush said.

Kit pasted on a grin. “And who am I to deny them that experience?”

He gulped down the rest of his cereal and poured some fresh coffee into a travel mug. “But- speaking of, I am gonna head out- don’t want to give them any impression other than the one I’m trying to carefully cultivate.” He picked up the bag he had packed the previously evening, silently thanking his previous self for being proactive.

He loped across the kitchen and bent to give Ty a quick kiss. “See you this afternoon for the wraith briefing?” he said and Ty nodded. “And Kit-” his hand tightened on his forearm and Kit picked up on the subtle warning.

Kit squeezed back. “I know- I’ll keep my eye out,” he said.

The mysterious text message they had received the night they arrived in London. The London Institute is rotting from within - tread carefully Herondale.

Sabina was heading down from the armory to grab breakfast, when she came across her sister peeking around the corner of the corridor to the Institute’s entrance.

She took in her sister’s appearance as she approached. Unlike the previous day, there appeared to be fewer scorch marks on Noura’s heavy duty apron she wore over her gear, which suggested that today’s experiments were going well. Or not well. She couldn’t really tell which but so long as Noura continued to avoid Evelyn’s notice for another couple of months until the new Head of Institute was decided, that was the main thing.

Noura spotted her out of the corner of her eye and she waved Sabina over. He’s here, she signed, gesturing towards the front door.

Sabina hurried over. No need for further explanation of who ‘he’ was. The legendary Herondale. And her competition; unless she was wildly mistaken about Evelyn’s meeting this afternoon.

She debated whether to take a look but her curiosity and Noura’s slightly impressed look was worrying… she decided to risk it. She peeked. Noura pulled her away, grinning, to an alcove where they could talk.

“Huh,” Sabina said, facing her sister so Noura could read her lips. “He’s… not what I was expecting.”

She had met Jace Herondale when she had spent a month at the New York Institute, early in her travel year. As a newly Ascended Shadowhunter, and one who had only previously spent time in the old Academy when it came to Shadowhunter society, she hadn’t really felt comfortable exchanging more than brief pleasantries with him, even if he was only a year older.

This Christopher Herondale, part of the group of heroes who had saved the entire Shadow world four years ago, wasn’t exactly built in that mold. Oh- he had the same broad shoulders and blond hair of his cousin but…

“He looks like a Shoreditch hipster,” Noura said, smirking. “Hot.” She feigned wiping her brow.

Sabina rolled her eyes but internally, she agreed at her sister’s succinct summary. Well, the first part at least.

Long hair pulled back into a high bun, dark fitted jeans, paired with an artfully faded t-shirt and converses, a canvas backpack casually slung across his shoulder.... if she hadn’t been otherwise informed, and he wasn’t standing in the entryway and chatting with acting Head of Institute, Roger Stormborn, he could’ve been any mundane she encountered on the Tube. Or as Noura said, a denizen of a certain popular East London bar area. Sabina also could have also sworn she spotted several ear piercings. Definitely not the traditional Shadowhunter look.

She grudgingly admitted her sister’s second observation was also true. This Herondale was easy on the eyes. But Sabina had long ago learned how to adjust her internal hotness calibration for Shadowhunters- especially the long-lineaged Shadowhunter families, otherwise she wouldn’t have made it through the Academy.

Plus, the fact that they were often assholes helped.

She wasn’t sure if there was as much of a glow-up for Ascended Shadowhunters (though Noura had certainly attempted to quantify it via their skincare routine pre- and post-Ascension). But she did admit certain old Shadowhunter families seemed to have something of the ‘je ne sais quoi’ about their features. Even for…

“Sabina!” A familiar Scottish baritone voice called from across the hallway. Jacob gave her a friendly smile, as he sought her out. “How is the armoury inventory coming along?”

“I’m on break, Dearborn,” Sabina said, with a polite nod. “But it’s coming along. How is library archiving?”

“Fascinatingly actually- if you’re going to the dining hall I’ll catch you up on-”

“I’m actually catching up with Noura so…” Sabina interrupted. She watched as his beautiful blue eyes slid across to her sister. “Of course- I’ll see you at training later,” he said, nodding to them both as he took his leave.

Noura grinned at her sister and arched a questioning eyebrow, which Sabina ignored. She concentrated on the matter at hand. “What do you think people’s reactions are going to be?” she asked reluctantly, returning to the matter at hand.

“Evelyn is going to freak out when she sees him. You know- she’s like, all ‘ra rah we’re Shadowhunters and need to hold ourselves to higher standards. I doubt she’ll be a fan, even if he is a Herondale,” Noura said, her dark eyes dancing with glee. “I’d be more worried about lover boy as your competition- but even then,” she shrugged, waving dismissively at Jacob’s retreating back.

Sabina bumped her shoulder. “Ugh- do not start,” she said. But she did feel faintly reassured; she trusted her sister’s intuition. Noura pushed back a strand of her short, black hair as it fell in front of her eyes, watching Sabina straighten up. She nodded in the direction of the Herondale. “Should we go and introduce ourselves?”

Kit sucked in a breath as he leapt backwards and out of reach of the broadsword that Jack- no, Jacob was swinging towards him. He hefted his own sword and spun around in an economical half-twist. With brute force, he angled his blade close to the opposing hilt, forcing his opponent to grunt and step back.

Starting Shadowhunter training so late meant he was never going to achieve the sleek fluidity Emma, Ty and others had, which made close combat look so easy. But he had compensated for it with other strategies- pure strength and well-

He saw his opportunity and kicked out towards Jacob’s ankle, trying to force him off-balance to get under his guard. He grinned at the shock on Jacob’s face, which quickly turned into a scowl as Kit gained the upper hand in their one-on-one.

He could hear murmurings from the small group gathered on the side of the stuffy training room hall, watching them.

He also heard Jem’s warning voice in his head. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should, Kit and Emma’s dry voice when he pulled out his more unorthodox moves - save those tricks for the actual demons and work on your form when you’re sparring

But he also heard the echo of Jace’s advice when Kit told him his plans to move to London. You have one chance to make a first impression, so make it count

Kit’s fighting style was messy, dirty and… mundane. But effective, he thought grimly, gritting his teeth as he swung around and tapped Jacob under his armpit in what would’ve been a killing or heavily wounding blow if they were fighting for real. Given Jacob’s last name - Kit decided he wasn’t going to lose sleep if he fought a bit underhandedly to win against a Dearborn.

Jacob’s eyes widened and he held his arms up. “I yield,” he said, stepping back. He gave Kit a considering look, as another of the London Institute’s Shadowhunters stepped into the training circle.

The Institute tutor, Sabina Burakgazi had been one of the first residents Kit had met- alongside her sister, who was also standing on the sideline. In contrast to Noura’s enthusiastic greeting, she had been quiet and reserved, her fine-boned face polite and distant as she greeted him. Even in the training briefing she had given when he joined the afternoon session, she hadn’t given any indication she was seeing him as anything other than an additional body, which Kit was grateful for.

Sabina stepped into the circle and Kit took the opportunity to do a quick pre-sparring evaluation. A few years older and a few inches shorter than him, dressed neatly in gear, with hair pulled back and held in a beige-coloured turban wrap, Sabina looked more ballet dancer than fierce warrior. But Kit knew that delicacy was likely deceptive. As she sauntered up, he was reminded of nothing more than the leopards that had watched him and Ty warily when they had last visited the San Diego zoo.

“We’ll finish up here for the time being, Herondale,” she said. Her brown eyes flickered up and down in a business-like fashion, pausing briefly on his left wrist, which was aching slightly. He resisted the urge to rub it.

Assessing. Like most Shadowhunters did when they learned his name- wanting to see one of the famous Herondale line in action, although Sabina was more subtle than most. Not that he blamed her.

And at least most London Institute inhabitants seemed far enough removed from the front lines of the final battles to understand his role in them so there were more curious looks, in contrast to the pitying or scared looks he sometimes got when he visited the NY Institute. Evelyn’s invitation had been short and to the point- and while it had specifically requested him, there had been an oddly impersonal tone to it. Kit was hoping it might actually mean that London would be a good fit. Where he could be just an average Shadowhunter.

Figure out if it was actually what he wanted.

“We’ve been summoned to Evelyn’s office,” Sabina told him, holding up the fire message in hand before turning away, clearly expecting him to follow.

Kit wiped the sweat off his brow, and looked down at his gear. “Without changing?”

“Believe me, you do not want to keep her waiting,” Noura called out, and Kit could see a couple of the other young trainees laugh nervously.

“Noted,” he said. He held out a hand to Jacob, wondering what his opponent would make of it. Jacob just clasped it briefly and said: “Good match.”

“You’re to come along too, Dearborn,” Sabina said, her mouth twisting slightly when she said his name.

Kit noted Jacob’s face fell fractionally but he nodded, laying down his sword and flattening down his already perfect head of chestnut-brown hair.

They both hurried after her.

Evelyn Highsmith - the regal Head of the London Institute sat in a high-backed chair in a corner, away from the bright August daylight streaming in and illuminating dust motes in the air.

Despite her advanced age, she stood to greet them with only a slight lean on her eagle-headed cane. Kit vaguely remembered her from the whirlwind visit to London seven years ago. It had been the summer his father died, he met the Blackthorns - he found a place with the twins - and everything in his life changed irrevocably.

He wasn’t sure she remembered him but her hooded, rheumy blue eyes watched him closely as he filed in after Sabina, Jacob following.

The other two Shadowhunters took a sort of soldier’s ‘at-ease’ position in front of her, and Kit tried to imitate them, feeling awkward about it. In L.A. Helen and Aline didn’t stand on ceremony, and in New York, Jace and Clary’s style could be loosely called ‘chaotic coordination’ but clearly - as Anush had mentioned - things were more traditional here.

Evelyn sat down, and pulled out several folders, clearing her throat. A soft snick of the door and the acting Head, Roger Stormborn entered, muttering apologies for the lateness. He moved to stand behind Evelyn’s chair, facing the three of them. Kit didn’t know entirely what the dynamic was there. Evelyn was in her ninth decade, Jace had told him, and should have stepped down years ago, but had refused to, particularly in the aftermath of the Dark War, and then the mess with the Princes of Hell and portals. Stormborn had been the de facto head for day to day activities.

Not much was known about Roger- he seemed steady enough, if thoroughly unremarkable, according to Clary’s internal notes on the heads of Institutes.

“Ms. Burakgazi,” Evelyn began by reading the first folder. “Top of your year at the academy, unusual for a mundane student. Ascended in 2012. Travel year with the New York, Buenos Aires and Jakarta Institutes and a secondment to Sydney. Joined full time with the London Institute and you’ve been with us for - five years now?” Sabina nodded. “Named Institute tutor last year, following Amanda Cartright’s retirement.”

Evelyn turned to Jacob. “Mr. Dearborn. From the Strathclyde Dearborns - your family has been attached to the Edinburgh Institute for five generations, including several heads…” Jacob stood up taller, if that was even possible, Kit thought. “Travel year included time at the Stockholm, Vienna and Moscow Institutes. Then back to Edinburgh. You were acting head at the Winnipeg Institute for two years before the decision was made to close it and transfer remaining Shadowhunters to Calgary. At which point, you asked for a transfer to London, where you’ve been assisting us in archiving the London Institute’s history.”

Evelyn’s gaze moved to Kit, and he willed himself not to reveal his apprehension. Whatever was written in her file on that, he reminded himself, it would likely only be half of the truth. If that.

“Mr. Herondale. A late discovery of your Shadowhunter heritage and Herondale name at age fifteen. You had a brief stay with the Blackthorns of the L.A. Institute before Jem Carstairs and the warlock Tessa Gray were made your guardians.” As she chose to only refer to Tessa’s warlock nature and not her Shadowhunter background, Kit suddenly remembered Evelyn’s disdain for Kieran and Magnus.

“Despite their limited ties to our Institutes and society, you still completed your training. Sometime during this period, it was also discovered that you were the ‘First Heir’ - a Shadowhunter/Faerie hybrid, who was-” Here, Evelyn looked down to read carefully. “Meant to bring the Faerie Realm under Shadows.” Kit could feel Jacob and Sabina try not to look at him at this stage.

“Despite your Fae heritage-” Kit tried not to bristle “-in 2015, you joined your cousin Jace Herondale, and Clary Fairchild’s quest to Faerie to defeat the Princes of Hell, which of course, as we all know- led to the interdimensional gates closing.” Evelyn droned on. “In the preceding years, you’ve visited a number of Institutes, although none for an appreciable amount of time. No travel year mentioned.”

“I had a mundane travel year-” Kit interrupted. Evelyn looked up in surprise, spectacles sliding down her nose. “I beg your pardon?”

“I er- spent a year in the mundane world, after the gates closed,” Kit said, defensively.

“Well, that certainly explains the attire,” Evelyn said dryly, pausing to give him another unimpressed once-over. “Although not the persisting in its wearing.”

“Since then I’ve taken on several missions to the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. And spent extended time at the L.A. and New York Institutes.” Kit tried to keep his voice even.

“Yes,” Evelyn said slowly, her gaze scrutinizing him once again before returning the paper. “You come very highly commended from those Institutes’ Heads.”

She closed Kit’s file and then cleared her throat. “I imagine you all know why you’re here.”

Absolutely not a fucking clue , Kit thought, wondering why she had pulled the three of them out of training to basically read back their Shadowhunter resumes to them. Particularly him, given he had only arrived this morning. As far as he knew, he was an extra body, helping rebuild what used to be Europe’s largest Enclave but currently held mainly Shadowhunters a year or two out of their travel year. He snuck a glance to Sabina and Jacob, who both looked pale but determined.

Roger came forward, a troubled look on his face. With a sinking stomach, suddenly a suspicion formed in Kit’s mind. “My health is no longer strong enough to run such an important Institute. I’ve been afflicted with a mundane illness that is proving troublesome for the Silent Brothers to treat outside the Basilias, and I can no longer put off the treatment needed,” said Stormborn.

“Sabina, Jacob, Christopher,” He nodded at each of them. “You will be working together to run the Institute until December, and at that point- Evelyn will decide which of you will be the next Head.”

Kit had thought years of therapy had cured him of the urge to run anymore. But it still seemed that the Shadow World could throw him curveballs to spur that habit.

“Christopher, stay behind please.” Evelyn’s voice was brusque.

Having half-expected the request, Kit returned to his previous spot and watched as the others filed out.

Evelyn was writing and he studied the old, dingy paintings of Shadowhunters cutting down swathes of Downworlders behind the large desk as he waited for her attention to turn to him and to get his own swirling emotions under control.

“Welcome to London, Mr Herondale. I imagine this meeting was something of a surprise to you,” she said finally.

Kit resisted the urge to shrug. “I imagine seeing how I reacted was useful in some way to you.” If this was going to be how she wanted to play it, he wasn’t going to dissemble. He had seen Aline and Helen use this tactic in L.A. and - come to think of it, other Blackthorns- use the tactical withhold of information in order to throw someone off guard.

There was a tiniest twitch of her lips, as she nodded. “Perhaps.”

In your invitation, you didn’t even hint at wanting me to be Institute Head- you lured me here under false pretenses, he thought. But he didn’t voice it outloud. He thought about his next few words carefully, trying to figure out how to best sell his objections while still communicating he wanted to remain in London. Close to Ty. “It seems a risk though, bringing in an outsider like myself who doesn’t know your practices and… traditions.”

He watched her carefully, wondering if she might give clues as to why she chose him as a candidate.

She pursed her lips. “You’re a Shadowhunter, Christopher-”

“-Kit.”

“And you’ve gone through the standard training-”

“You mentioned my Fae heritage,” Kit said, trying to salvage the conversation. “Does that not disqualify me?” A slight stiffening of her shoulders was her tell - as he suspected- his ties to Downworlders did bother her.

There was a narrowing of her eyes. “As much as I hate to admit it, times have changed - and it hardly prevented the appointment of Helen Blackthorn to the L.A. Institute, did it?”

Kit tried to backpedal. “I meant-”

“And from what I understand- it’s hardly a concern anymore, hmmm? No further claims to the thrones of Faerie, due to the loss of that magic.” Evelyn tapped the folder, her gaze steely.

Kit froze, pushing down unwanted memories. Ash’s desperate, slipping grip as Kit transferred everything, every powerful jolt of magic, a legacy he never wanted, in order to save him and heal Faerie.

“I – no, I don’t have further claims to Faerie thrones,” he said roughly.

He lifted his eyes. “But frankly, I’m not a suitable candidate for running this Institute, Ms. Highsmith.’

“Let myself and Roger come to that conclusion. You’re a Herondale who has survived missions that would’ve killed most Shadowhunters. You have a lot to recommend,” Evelyn said, a tone of finality entering her voice. “And your unorthodox background might just be what this Institute needs.”

Her gaze raked briefly over him. “That being said, I expect you to look like a proper Shadowhunter, Christopher. Including the hair. Starting tomorrow,” she said, turning back to her papers.

Kit heard the dismissal. He nodded and turned on his heels, exiting, frantically recalibrating everything he had thought about London, and what this post might mean.

“Stormborn is retiring? That’s unexpected.” Jace’s voice sounded surprised on the other end of the phone.

Kit scrubbed his face as he paced the length of the courtyard, ending up underneath the gate, just before the noisiness of the mundane world intruded. He had debated who to call post-Evelyn meeting (he wanted to tell Ty in person) and he figured Jace might’ve had some inkling about this. And if that was the case, Kit was going to kill him for letting him walk in unprepared.

“Yep. End of the year. And somehow he and Evelyn have decided that I, of all people, am somehow one of the suitable candidates to run the Institute.”

“Well-”

“Fuck no ,” Kit hissed. “Jace. I told you- that’s not what I wanted, coming to London.”

“Hey, fair enough- and I didn’t give that reference thinking you’d be handed the reins of the Institute.” Jace’s voice was conciliatory. “Especially on your first day. But you know…”

“If you mentioned the Herondale name, I will hang up,” Kit threatened.

Jace laughed. “You said it, not me. What can I say- attention and authority just flows to us, Christopher. You might as well embrace it.”

“I’m 22, no way in hell should anyone be putting me in charge of anything,” Kit said. “No wonder the Institutes are floundering if they keep putting inexperienced idiots in charge.”

There was a brief silence on the phone and Kit closed his eyes, remembering. “I mean- I’m referring to myself. It was different for you and Clary.”

Jace let out a small chuckle. “You’re closer to the mark than you think. I’m referring to myself of course, not my darling wife. Yes-” In the background Kit could hear Clary’s voice.

“Anyway, you’re also less of an idiot than you think and I say this having gone with you on patrol after eating two plates of Izzy’s cookies…” Jace’s voice softened. “See how it goes. It’s not like it’s being handed to you on a silver platter. And okay, you don’t like being reminded of it but c’mon- you could’ve gone to practically any Institute- but you chose London? Where Herondales have a long history of running the Institute?” Jace’s voice was skeptical. “Evelyn probably had to add you to the running list to fulfill tradition.”

Kit luckily had a good comeback to that point. “I only came to be closer to Ty, now that he’s been reassigned. And anyway I still think they’re wrong,” he muttered. “Also- f tradition. Everyone keeps saying London’s traditional. So far it looks like it’s where fashion comes to die.”

“That’s Old World Institutes for you.” He could practically hear Jace’s grin. “My advice - give it a month or two. If you’re still thinking it’s not for you after that, endorse another candidate. I’m sure they’d appreciate the support.”

Kit remembered the wary glances Jacob and Sabina had given him, as they left Evelyn’s office. “Not sure about that...”

There was a pause and Kit tensed, wondering if he was going to get a further ‘Herondale name legacy’ spiel.

But Jace was wiser and didn’t bother, likely anticipating how it’d land with Kit. “You know you’re welcome any time to come to NY again. Anyway, gotta go- Jossy is grabbing at my dagger and Clary is glaring at me.”

“Yeah, I have to go too,” Kit said, looking at his phone’s clock. “Ty and the other Centurions are arriving soon to give a briefing on the wraith attacks.”

“Now, that I am interested in-” Jace said, his voice suddenly infused with the Institute Head authority that he could turn on instantly. “Send me a message if there’s anything new to report.”

“You mean, anything juicy that’s not in the official dispatches,” Kit countered.

“In your new role you’ll be writing a lot of those official dispatches,” Jace reminded him. “But also, yes.”

“Will do,” Kit said. Then he remembered the ominous text message- but he and Ty had decided to wait until they had more solid evidence and he decided to keep it to himself for now. Other than this surprising news, there weren’t any immediate red flags that he could point to at the Institute- but then again, maybe this competition would help them both figure out where the message came from, and what it referred to.

Either way, his arrival at the London Institute was not going the way he thought it would.

Taglist: @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @of-same-steel-and-temper @thomastaircompassrose @thechangeling @mferraz @kestrafagnor @gabtapia @alldagayships @blindbandit1515 @silvermagnolias @chaotic-halfblood-kit @fighting-god-69 @lifeofbrybooks @all-this-panic-still-no-disco @heloisacosta23 @kitheronthorn @idk-i-just-really-like-tsc @t0wergirl @immortal-enemies @ahumanbeingtryingherbest @chewriting @bookishjules

Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list. :)

#tsc fanfiction #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit x ty #the wicked powers #post canon #established relationship #casefile #mystery stories #the dark artifices #secrets of blackthorn hall #my fanfic #alicantenet

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charleswaterloo · 3 years

Note

AGREED DO THE ULTIMATE FIC REC

Thank you so much for asking!! Okay, here we go!

DC fics that I got a few paragraphs into and already KNEW were going to be AMAZING:

1. The Jason Project by loosingletters

Warnings: Major Character Death

Jason had just wanted to see his autopsy report, he had only wanted to know what information Bruce had about his death. And when Bruce hadn't given it to him, he had stolen it. He hadn’t meant to stumble upon the bucket list of a dead child and the footage of a grieving father crossing one item after another off the list.

My thoughts: I don't often cry (which isn't healthy lmao) but this fic made me cry (happy tears!). It is absolutely wonderful and while angsty it has such a beautiful ending. I can't recommend it enough!

2. Little bird by Ididloveyou_once

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim knew he was fucked if only for the way that his brain was chanting Jason, like a litany. So he definitely didn’t need to hear the cold, mechanical chuckle or the chillingly delighted 'lucky me' to know that this was not good.

He took a second to look down at his coffee mournfully.

Then, he threw it at Hood’s helmet and bolted down the Tower corridor.

Or: Tim is supposed to be at Gotham Academy for a parent-teacher conference. Hood has other plans (Titans Tower AU).

My thoughts: One of the best Titans Tower AU fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. The ending is to die for and so fluffy - it never fails to warm my heart <3

3. Straight to Voicemail by cabbagetop

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

“Red Hood. I need you to incapacitate Timothy Drake-Wayne.” “Aw, man,” Jason sighs, shouldering through the old wooden doors and out into the street with his books under his arm. “You and half the northern hemisphere. What’d he do this time?”

Jason's phone is blowing up about one Timothy Drake-Wayne (who is Jason's responsibility since when, exactly?). Jason comfort-eats. Jason suffers long. Jason reluctantly tries to keep this Raphus cucullatus of a human being alive, and maybe finds himself sidling back into the family while he's at it.

My thoughts: I was crying with laughter by the third sentence. If you want free serotonin, you will find it here folks, I guarantee it. Brilliantly written and hilarious and such a fantastic interpretation of Jason's character. Please read this lmao <3

4. miss me? by envysparkler

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Jason’s plan to observe his family’s reactions to his resurrection…does not go as intended.

My thoughts: I think I've recommended this one at least once before, but I will do so again because it is one of the best stories I have ever had the honour of reading on AO3. It has a happy ending, but was another fic which actually made me tear up. It is just beautiful and I'm sure some of you have read it before. Read it again even if you have - it's that good.

5. No Pain, All Gain by @sohotthateveryonedied

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Bruce checks Tim’s IV. “Are you in any pain? Do you need more morphine?”

Tim’s pupils are so wide that only the faintest ring of blue can be seen. He watches Bruce the way a five-year-old watches cartoons. “I’m all good, B-dog. All Gucci, like we cool teens say." His words are slurred almost beyond recognition, but Tim doesn’t seem to notice or care. "I could fight Superman right now.”

My thoughts: I know of only about 3 or 4 fics featuring Tim absolutely high out of his mind on some drug or another and this has got to be one of the absolute best of them. Whenever I feel the Depression(TM) crawling in and I need to laugh INSTANTLY I read this. It has not failed me yet. I can't recommend it enough it's so funny and a great read <3 The line below from the fic makes me scream laugh EVERY TIME:

“He’s not in his right mind.” “So? Neither are you half the time but you’re still in charge of everything.”

6. The Ouija Boy by SunnyBlue

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Timothy Drake was a stillborn baby. He was born dead, stayed that way for a solid five minutes, and was then resuscitated in the delivery room. He was a child who grew up alone, but for his imaginary friends. He had so many imaginary friends, in fact, that his parents sent him to get evaluated several times over the course of his childhood, which was spent with Tim as the only heartbeat in that house.

But that didn’t mean he was alone.

---

Tim sees dead people. When a Batboys murder investigation is going nowhere, he realizes his only chance at solving the case is to speak to the ghost of one of the victims. He has to reveal his secret to his brothers -- or risk the killer getting away.

My thoughts: STAND BACK FOR POSSIBLY ONE OF MY TOP TEN FAVOURITE FICS OF ALL TIME. I'm pretty sure I've recommended this one before but I will do so again. The story is impeccable, the mystery is ELITE and everything about it is literally perfect. I re-read this at least once a month so I can bask in its greatness and become a better person for having read it.

7. there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

From a tumblr prompt.

AKA, "A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who's the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points."

My thoughts: I'm going to let the note I added to the bookmark I made of this fic speak for itself. Here's what I wrote: "This was so funny - shoutout Jason for undeniable lad vibes plus the fact he felt he needed to neatly organise and write down the big three's sexiest traits."

8. American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business.

Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham.

That's Jason's job, after all.

My thoughts: Please GOD just read the first few paragraphs. You'll know exactly what I mean when I say that this fic is it. Hilarious, badass and adorable. I mean, see the title of this fic rec. I just knew this fic was going to be amazing from the first line.

I have many, many more of course, but I'll leave this here for now as it's getting to be a pretty long post. Anyway, these are all fics - short and long! - that I knew were going to be absolutely perfect within the first few moments of reading. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

385 notes · View notes

mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!

This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece!

This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)

Title: Princess

ϟ ϟ ϟ

It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.

“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.

With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.

You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.

Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”

Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.

“Oh, those eyes”

“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.

Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.

“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.

“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about.

“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.

“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.

“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”

There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh.

“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.

“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.

Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.

However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.

(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.

“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.

He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.

”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.

“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.

“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.

ϟ ϟ ϟ

A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.

Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.

Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.

He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing.

You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.

Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.

He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.

Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.

“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.

What he would do to have you begging for him right now.

His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.

“Please, Draco...”

“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.

“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”

“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.

“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.

Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.

“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.

“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.

Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.

That was only for him, of course.

“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.

Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.

“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.

However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.

His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.

“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.

You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.

He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.

Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin.

Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.

“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.

Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.

Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.

With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.

“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.

The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.

“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.

With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.

“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.

“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.

With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.

“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”

You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.

You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.

Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.

Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you.

“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”

ϟ ϟ ϟ

Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned.

However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.

To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.

His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.

He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.

“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.

“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.

“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.

In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face.

Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.

“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.

“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up.

“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.

With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.

“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.

Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy reader insert #draco x slytherin #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x reader smut #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts request #hogwarts fan fiction #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts mystery fanfic

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stylestappen · 3 years

Note

DANI BESTIE YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THOSE HEADCANONS ON ME LIKE THAT😭 work of art, your mind <3

would you pretty please expand on the first one (36 questions la da da)?! I have a fic idea similar to that but your thoughts blow my mind!!! take your time and have funn :) loads of loveee <3

AL BESTIE THANK YOU :D TELL US YOUR FIC IDEA TOO I BEG!!

and ok i'm gonna be completely honest, i came up with the 36 questions one on the SPOT with the christmas one, the other ones were from my headcanon doc. SO, i have not a lot of story built for it, but here's me spitballing a few Thoughts.

max and charles are newly appointed teammates for the year, one of them joining rb or ferrari (and i know the merc!teammates au is very popular here but i just CANNOT morally do that to myself. so rbferrari it is.) and wouldn't ya know it? they've got the best sexiest most intimidating dynamic on the entire grid in YEARS. naturally, the fandomTM loves it, and well, we've seen f1 acquiesce with a carlando conference purely because of how much fans were asking for it, so who's to say they wouldn't give us a joint lestappen interview?

only, they go even farther, and frame it as a 'Teammate compatibility quiz', and Alex is given the green light to write a few questions. naturally, the peanut gallery gang takes FULL advantage and just prints out the 36 questions that lead to falling in love.

i don't think i'd write their answers to all 36 questions, but i'd go with the first three-four, and then it would get way too homoerotically charged and they'd both call to end the interview. (the few questions they DO answer though would absolutely break f1blr/f1twt - it's important to me that you know that)

but then. it lingers in their minds. they don't know it's the 36 questions that lead to falling in love, but they DO know there were 36 questions, designed to get to know each other better. so, either max or charles (i'm thinkin charles) approaches the other and goes 'hey we don't need to do it for the camera but i do want to answer these with you. bc i know exactly how you'd turn a corner and where you'd brake and the way you approach overtaking a car on a straight BUT i do not know [fully reading off the website he pulled up on his phone] If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what you would want to know.' and max is like 'yea ok I'll answer a few' and since there are SO many questions i'd space them out in different scenes that show the evolution of them as teammates.

like, they'd answer four-five questions while they're still learning to work WITH each other, maybe around may. and then they get to know each other better and get closer, and it shows (like max would ask charles one of the questions without warning while bringing him his favorite beer that he's got Fully Stocked in his own fridge, and charles would ask max a few lighthearted questions after max has a race that doesn't go so well, to bring his mind onto lighter things, and it would work, and max would be quietly grateful and charles would get it)

finally, they do all the questions and only have the 33rd (ha) left, which is "If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?" and neither of them answer because when they get to it max says 'can we not answer this one now?' and charles is like :( ok.

and then one day max crashes (not too dangerous, im not mean) reminiscent of silverstone '21 - without any specific driver to fault, obviously. and they have this thing in f1, right, where sometimes teammates get linked on team radio? so after the crash max's team radio is crackly but it still works. they've red-flagged the race but are yet to get max out of the wreckage. he somehow, through huffs and coughs, tells gp to put him through to charles. and then he says. wait for it. 'number 33. I'm in love with you.' and because he's a dramatic bitch he immediately Passes Out.

charles freaks OUT. he is like wtf why would he- why did he- why now-. and then cue emotional hospital reunion scene where charles goes you IDIOT you DUMBASS i'm also in love with you, never do that again.

and it's a fluffy happy cute ending. probably with an epilogue where they bring up number 26 again ('complete the sentence "I wish I had someone with whom I could share...".') and they'd both answered "a love that keeps up with the racing life" or something to that effect. and in the epilogue MAYBE they're saying their vows or SOMETHING LIKE THAT and charles goes "I found that, I found 26. [continue with poignant awesome heartstopping speech]"

aaand that's basically my spitballed thoughts on that!!! hope you enjoy, love <3

#lestappen #got a little out of hand but I'm now 330% more tempted to actually write the fic #thankyou alaya for giving me even more of a chance to be feral about lestappe <)#max verstappen #f1 #charles leclerc #red bull racing #scuderia ferrari #f1 fics #f1 fanfic #fanfic ideas #dan's asks

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sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

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fuckyeah-jessicabiel · 2 years

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Jessica Biel for Giants Magazine - August 2006

Those lips, those eyes... surprise! Behind the drop- dead gorgeous looks of Jessica Biel is the heart of a soldier who loves a good fight. Just don't give her a steak knife.

In the weeks leading up to my conversation with Jessica Biel, the following dramas rocked young Hollywood: Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan had a tiff, which then escalated into a full-blown war when oil heir Brandon Davis issued the Lohan-lashing heard 'round the world. Christina Aguilera got into it with Mariah Carey about, well, something, and Mischa Barton took sides, to notable effect, in the Nicole Richie-Paris Hilton battle royale (Barton is Team Richie).

But Jessica Biel has no tiffsno history of them and no real prospects, either and when asked about her lack of beefs with fellow celebrities, she laughs. "It's not really in my personality. I'll go out and dance and have a drink, but I don't get messed up in the drama. I'm also pretty busy. On most nights people are going out, I usually have a 6 A.M. call the next morning."

Ten years into a career that began with 7th Heaven, Biel is one of the few young celebrities without some kind of scandal, feud or sex tape to call her own. And though she was branded the "Sexiest Woman Alive" by Esquire magazine last year, Biel is more the anti-Paris Hilton, refusing to coast by on looks alone and choosing instead to work her ass off for every audition and part she's ever scored. Even with three movies set for release in the next year, the unassuming 24-year-old actress places herself, on a fame scale of one to 10, on the lower end of the spectrum. "I'm probably a...four? I don't know. I'm always thinking about how difficult it is to obtain the parts I want, and how I'm losing roles to all these other girls-Keira Knightley and Scarlett Johansson, Rachel McAdams. All those really, really talented women who are doing movies that I'd like to be doing." That's why she fights.

I HAVE TO FIGHT...BECAUSE IT'S EASY TO BE PERCEIVED IN ONE WAY."

She fought to break into television at 14 as a Christian TV teen queen, and she fought for her first breakout movie role as a coked-out vixen in 2002's The Rules of Attraction. She even had to fight for her latest project, The Illusionist, a romantic period drama co-starring Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti that hits theaters in August. "In the beginning, they wouldn't even see me for the part." Biel says of Sophie, a corseted duchess who falls in love with a master magician (Norton). "It made sense-I'd never done anything period before." But with the shoot date fast approaching and the female lead still open, director Neil Burger turned to Biel and put her through round after round of auditions. When she turned up to test-read opposite Norton, she wore a turn-of-the-century getup she had purchased an hour earlier out of her own pocket and her future co-star was impressed.

"I think she surprised a lot of people when she came in," Norton says. "Because it's a period piece, I think there was some of that 'Oh, there's this girl from television' prejudice. But her work ethic was fantastic, and she's beautiful in the way you think the girls in a Tolstoy novel would be. She looked exactly right for the part." Burger also sensed in Biel a kind of moxie required for the role. "Jesse has an adventurous quality to her, and she's not scared of anything."

Biel's sense of adventure stems from a blue-sky childhood in Boulder, Colorado. She describes her younger self as "a tomboy and an athlete" who could throw a perfect spiral and once broke her heel jumping off a fence. "I played with a lot of boys growing up. I had some Barbies, but I played a lot with my brother and his G.I. Joes."

At 14, she landed her breakthrough role in Aaron Spelling's family values drama 7th Heaven. As Mary Camden, the oldest daughter of a minister, Biel portrayed a sweet and wholesome character that would come to define her public image. Over the next five years, as 7th Heaven became The WB's first runaway hit and found millions of fans in the heartland and beyond, the teenage actress would earn more in a single week than most people earn in a year.

Biel quickly branched out into film, and although she had one memorable, rebellious role as a teenage brat opposite Peter Fonda in 1997's Ulee's Gold (and one nearly-naked photo shoot for Gear magazine in 2000, which she later described as "horrible"), she fortified her Mary Camden persona with "dream girl" parts in toothless romantic comedies like 1998's I'll Be Home for Christmas and 2001's Summer Catch. But by 2002 Biel was ready for something else, and she began dismantling, role by role, her sweetheart image. "It made more sense to me creatively," she says, "to do something that I hadn't done before." To follow Biel's career over the ensuing years is like visiting a schizophrenic on a bad day. First she was a backstabbing slut in 2002's The Rules of Attraction. Then she was a feisty victim in 2003's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and a crossbow-wielding vampire slayer in 2004's Blade: Trinity. Last year she was a ballsy fighter pilot in Stealth and a sultry heartbreaker in Elizabethtown. While none of these films lit up the box office, they nevertheless established Biel as one of the few young actresses who can pull off action, romance and drama. She sinks herself deep into diverse roles, and depending on your perspective, that diversity either indicates a broad artistic curiosity or an expert marketing savvy. This being Hollywood, it's a little of both.

"I wouldn't be in this business to do the same thing over and over- I'd be bored," Biel says. "I also don't want to be put into a box. I like that you think I'm going to do one thing, and then you think, 'Wait, what's she doing now?"" It's a risky career tactic in a town that loves typecasting, but Biel is ready for battle, and if her colleagues are to be believed, she doesn't mess around.

Writer-director Roger Avary first met Biel when he was casting The Rules of Attraction. "We had dinner, and I told her, 'Listen, having seen you on TV over the years, you seem so sweet and I just don't know if you have it in you to play the bad girl.' She then took a steak knife and held it to my neck, and said, 'I can be bad.' I told my casting director afterwards, 'OK, she's the one."" Or as Biel's 7th Heaven co-star Barry Watson says, "There's no bullshit about Jesse."

After The Illusionist, Biel stars in two other films that could very well give her first dibs on the projects of her choice. First she'll play a working-class soldier in the upcoming Home of the Brave, Irwin Winkler's ensemble drama about US National Guardsmen returning home from Iraq that also features Samuel L. Jackson and 50 Cent. And she's currently shooting opposite Nicolas Cage and Julianne Moore in Lee Tamahori's big- budget sci-fi thriller Nert, playing a woman who can see the future.

"Right now I'm really interested in doing a comedy, but, again, people are not extremely open to that at this point. So I'm having to say, 'Please let me audition." she says, her voice picking up steam. "I have to fight in the trenches for most of my projects, because it's easy to be perceived in one way. But I'm gonna keep on fighting."

#jessica biel #articles #magazines #2006 #interviews

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luvdsc · 4 years

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too hot! hot damn!

what do you get when you mix red and blue together?

pairing :: lee taeyong x reader genre :: fluff / boyfriend au word count :: 2,121 words warnings :: a tiny paragraph about making out playlist :: cherry kisses (chungha) ⋆ daft pretty boys (bad suns) ⋆ hands on me (taeyeon) ⋆ crash my car (coin) ⋆ shy (hunny) author’s note :: to the insanely talented goddess who wrote the first nct fic i ever read nearly 3 years ago and still love to this day!!! i didn’t think i’d ever get to be friends with one of my favoritest writers on here, but here we are :’) ily els @taeyongtime ♡

“It’s hot.”

You’re draped across the old, yet still very plush couch, the kitschy pattern spread across it now fondly regarded as one of the things that transforms this dingy little place from a shoebox apartment into home. The thin spaghetti strap of your faded tie-dyed tank top from your old sorority days hangs limply off of your shoulder, threatening to fall even more when you slump over to the left. The simple drawstring shorts you have on barely cover your legs, but you contemplate tossing them off still because it’s just. So. Damn. Hot.

“It’s hot!” you whine even louder, throwing your arms up in the air before letting them flop down onto the cushions dramatically. The nearby open window only blows in a measly little breeze that does nothing except dry the sweat on your skin for a few glorious seconds before it reappears like a stubborn stain. Your boyfriend only raises an eyebrow at you from his spot on the floor, sprawled out in front of said window and using one of his Nylon magazines as a makeshift fan.

Taeyong agrees, flapping the glossy pages in front of his face desperately. “It’s too hot.”

Two days consisting of barely surviving the power outage creeps into a third, the prospect of having AC again anytime soon becoming extremely bleak. The transformer had completely blown out, and the electric company finally sent out a crew to fix it earlier this morning. The estimated restoration was initially set to noon, but it was pushed back until 3 p.m., then 6 p.m., then 10 p.m., then 5 a.m., and now the big black bolded letters spelling out “undetermined” mocks you from the screen of your phone that's already set to the lowest brightness setting to conserve battery.

To make it worse, your city was suffering a heat wave, temperatures spiking to 105 degrees Fahrenheit every single day and simmering down to 80 during the night before climbing the thermostat again. The raging thunderstorm that plagued last night only resulted in unexpected humidity, making your clothes stick to you like a second skin.

“Make it less hot,” you moan, blowing air upwards towards your forehead in an attempt to cool down in the slightest way possible.

“I can’t control the weather, babe, but I can get you a popsicle?” Taeyong sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position to face you. The shiny magazine in his hand still flounders around until he gives up on it and tosses it aside.

You turn your head, cheek pressing into the couch cushion, as you squint at him. “We don’t have any left. We took all our food from the fridge to Doyoung’s place. I can’t believe that bastard has a gigantic generator and is flourishing in his stupid air conditioned apartment and making frozen sangrias, while his best friends are about to die from heatstroke.”

You had sent back a rather crass Snapchat back to Doyoung after he sent one earlier of his perfect, Instagram story worthy, iced alcoholic beverage. It’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t toss your beloved brown sugar boba ice cream bars out onto his pristine balcony with picture perfect potted plants to perish. That man can still hold onto a grudge even after he’s on his deathbed and descending into the fiery pits.

Taeyong stands up and slowly ambles towards the refrigerator. “I saved two popsicles in the freezer. I figured it’d stay cold enough and not melt if we ate them soon.”

“Oh my god, that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position before finally being able to, watching your boyfriend open the freezer and pull out the last two saving graces.

“Do you want blue raspberry or cherry?”

He holds out the two icy sweets in front of you, one in each hand. You already know that he secretly wants the red one; it’s been his favorite ever since he was five and tried his very first one from the ice cream truck that still comes around his parents’ neighborhood. But you also know that he always lets you choose first and wouldn’t complain if you take that one.

You reach out and pluck the blue one from his grasp, and he smiles happily, eyes crinkling in the corners as he eagerly unwraps the cherry flavored one and shoves it in his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the nearby wicker trash basket.

He drops down onto the empty space next to you, reclining back and slouching in his seat. The two of you sit there peacefully, side by side and enjoying the cold snacks, until he wordlessly slides over, pressing the side of his arm and leg against yours.

“Move back,” you complain, shoving him over to his original position. “It’s hot, and you’re making it worse.”

“So are you calling me hot?” Taeyong wriggles his eyebrows at you before taking a bite of his popsicle, much to your horror. He moves closer to you again for the sole sake of annoying you.

“First off, I’m calling you sweaty. Secondly, did you just bite your ice cream?” You throw him a dirty look before moving over and turning to sit with your back against the arm rest, throwing your legs over his lap.

Taeyong slightly pouts at you, munching on yet another chunk of his popsicle and ignoring the way you wrinkle your nose in disdain. “What’s wrong with that? It’s melting, and I don’t want it to drip and get my hand all sticky.”

You can’t believe that you just discovered your boyfriend is a psychopath. He’s going to the same circle of hell as people who pour milk in before cereal and those who hate mint chocolate chip ice cream once he leaves this earth (He can even say hi to Doyoung as he descends to eternal damnation).

“Why didn’t you say anything about this before we started dating?” You are absolutely appalled. Horrified. Disgusted. This is the biggest relationship deal breaker you have ever come across.

“Next, you’re gonna say you hate me because I don’t like pineapple on pizza,” he says as his free hand settles on the top of your thigh, gently tapping rhythmically against it absentmindedly.

“Oh my god, you absolute heathen.” You really thought Taeyong was the perfect man of your dreams, but you unfortunately realize belatedly that even he has flaws. Some inexcusable ones, in fact.

In the midst of your lamenting, you fail to notice melting sugar slowly trickling down until it leaves a sticky mess all over your hand. Desperately, you toss the empty popsicle stick into the nearby waste basket before licking off the remnants of your icy blue treat from your fingers.

“See? It melted all over you. I told you so,” Taeyong childishly sticks out his tongue as he waves his clean hand and empty popsicle stick around as if to emphasize his point.

“Your tongue’s red,” you say, chuckling slightly, and his eyes widen at this newfound revelation.

“Wait, stick out your tongue,” he demands as he throws away the wooden stick, and you comply with his request. He grins, delighted. “Yours is blue!”

He sticks out his tongue again, almost going cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of his own. At that, your eyes zero in on his cherry stained lips, and an ingenious idea pops up in your mind as the sudden urge to kiss your boyfriend silly makes itself very known.

“Hey, wanna play a game, Yongie?” you ask slyly, and his attention immediately turns to you at the word “game,” interest piqued and eyes fixated on you.

“What kind of game?” he inquires cautiously, taking note of the mischievous glimmer in your eyes. You look like you’re up to no good, and your boyfriend wouldn’t be surprised if you have something up your metaphorical sleeve (Because nobody sane enough would be wearing something with sleeves in this weather from hell. In fact, you’re 66.6% percent certain that those fiery pits are probably cooler compared to here).

“Too hot.”

“Yes, it is,” he acknowledges, shaking his head in agreement, and you laugh, fanning yourself with your hands. “No, silly, I meant the game.”

“It’s called ‘too hot’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you confirm, nodding your head. The expression of skepticism on his face says it all, so you throw in your bargaining chip.

“I hid a chocolate bar in the freezer’s ice chest. The winner can have it.”

His doe eyes immediately light up at the mention of his favorite sweet, and he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Okay, how do I play?”

“We kiss,” you start, and he’s already pulling you towards him enthusiastically, causing soft laughter to bubble up from your throat, before you swat his hands away. “Hey, hey, hey, I wasn’t done explaining it yet! There’s no touching allowed.”

“That’s no fun,” Taeyong whines, lips jutting out into a tiny pout that you want to kiss away already. “You said this is a game. Games are supposed to be fun.”

“But you’re getting kisses, and it’s already hot so it’s better this way,” you coax, and he relents with a drawn out sigh, and you quietly cheer. “Okay, ready?”

Taeyong gives you a tiny nod, and you grin before leaning in, eyes fluttering close. You gently place your lips against his, and he holds still. But then, a few seconds later, you feel his fingers barely grazing your cheek, and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“Baby, I told you that you can’t touch!”

“That rule is dumb,” he complains, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. You frown at him, pouting until he gives in again because it’s you and he’d cross oceans and climb mountains for you.

“Okay, let’s try again,” he grumbles, glowering as he absentmindedly cards his hand through his hair, and you positively beam at him, and the sulking expression on his face softens almost instantly.

“What if we do baby steps first?” You pull your legs up onto the couch, sitting up on your knees and facing him. He fully turns to look at you, head cocked to one side.

“What do you mean?”

You lean forward and peck his cheek before moving back to your original position. “Like that. Now your turn.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Taeyong leans forward and gingerly places a kiss on your forehead with an endearing smile. You inch forward and kiss his other cheek. He plants a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, and you lean in to delicately leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and you do the same to the opposite side, much to his utter frustration.

This time, Taeyong chases after you when you pull away. You let out a noise of surprise as he gently tugs you forward, crashing his lips against yours and muffling your laughter, and you find yourself straddling your boyfriend. Your hands wind up tangled in his hair, while his arms lock around your waist and hold you close, game be damned.

You can taste a faint trace of cherry, causing the corners of your mouth to curl into the minutest hint of a smile before you press your mouth against his more firmly as he kisses you back eagerly until you both run out of air, pulling away breathlessly with identical smiles.

“You lost,” you tease, poking his cheek with your finger as your other hand curls around his shirt. He makes a face at you, his hands still resting on your waist, and you find that you don’t mind the warmth of them against your skin even in this ruthlessly blazing weather.

“But you’ll share the chocolate, right?” he mumbles, face still flushed and lips redder than before. He traces soft patterns against your hip as you tilt your head to the side, faking your hesitation.

“Hmm, I don’t know, should I? I won fair and square.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Meanie.”

You laugh, sliding off his lap and onto the empty seat next to him (albeit a little unwillingly, but it’s still hot as hell unfortunately, and conserving body heat together isn’t helping at all). Your boyfriend frowns, mostly because you’re no longer sitting in his lap, but partly because he doesn’t understand why you’re laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Your grin widens, eyes sparkling like you know something he doesn’t (because you do). “Baby, your tongue’s purple.”

Taeyong turns a shade brighter than his favorite popsicle flavor.

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

Note

ive been obsessed with the Olympics and can totally picture beca being an Olympic skateboarder for some reason? please could you do bechloe at the Olympics?

Read on AO3

Chloe knew that the cameras would find her in the stand, so she tried to keep the fear and, let’s admit it, lust off her face.

The fans loved hers and Beca’s relationship, and she knew the commentators would make a point to mention it.

How often did it happen that two Olympic athletes fell in love with each other? Yes, the Olympic village was usually a sex fest, but that didn’t always translate into long lasting relationships.

Not that Beca and Chloe had met in the Olympic village, for one this was the first time that skateboarding was an Olympic event. They had met at a party almost five years ago, introduced by mutual friends, and now here they were. Engaged to be married.

Chloe, at her second Olympic Games, had secured herself 2 medals for swimming - a silver medal in women’s 50m freestyle and a bronze in the 4x100m relay - and now Beca was about to skate in her first Olympic final.

And as calm and collected as Beca looked, rolling her board back and forth beneath her foot, Chloe couldn’t have been more nervous.

And watching Beca lift the bottom of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her eyes, showing off her toned stomach in the process, her tattooed arms visible thanks to her rolled up sleeves, Chloe couldn’t have been more turned on.

Chloe saw her crack a joke at Emily - the other American competitor - and then it was her turn to skate.

There would be three runs, the highest score wins. Beca would be the last to skate each time.

She watched Beca wave at the crowd, and roll her shoulders back a few times.

She had come off her board a few months ago, and Chloe knew her shoulder was still giving her trouble.

And then she was off, moving quickly around the Park course.

A DJ was playing music, but Chloe knew Beca had her own AirPods in, hidden under her helmet.

The commentator was calling out the tricks as she did them, but Chloe couldn’t follow along.

She knew there were some grinds, some flips, some grab tricks, but if she’s honest she’d never quite understood all the names of all the tricks. She’d tried to learn, and Beca had tried to explain it, but it just never sunk in.

Beca’s first run was almost at an end and then the board got away from her, and she hit the ground, skidding on her knees.

Chloe heard her shout of frustration from the stands, so she knew the cameras picked it up too.

Beca got up, grabbed her board, and skated out, back towards the other competitors.

They all patted her back, and Emily gave her a hug and said something that made her laugh.

Chloe watched as she took off her helmet and took a drink, her eyes never leaving the scoreboard.

Her score was okay, not medal winning, but not terrible. Beca nodded to herself, and then shrugged at the camera when she realised it was on her.

Sensing an opportunity, she picked up her board and flashed her ‘Trans Lives Matter’ sticker at the camera, hoping it got on TV before it cut away to the next competitor.

From the stands, Chloe continued to watch her with pride. She watched her talking with her coach and joking with the other athletes, and all she wanted to do was run down there and kiss her.

“Which is exactly why you’ll be in the stands and not sitting with the coaches,” Beca had told her the night before. “How am I meant to concentrate if I know you’re there waiting to kiss me?”

Beca’s second run was up, and this time Beca aimed her wave directly at Chloe. She made a heart sign with her hands that Chloe returned eagerly, before blowing her a kiss.

A few years ago, Beca might have complained that Chloe was ruining her street-cred, but she was past the point of caring about that now.

Her second run went much better, and she stayed on her board the entire time.

Her score shot her into first place, gold medal position.

Chloe was on her feet screaming and cheering as she watched Beca get mobbed by the other skaters. Emily was practically jumping on her back despite being a solid foot taller than her, and the American fans around Chloe were drowning out the commentators.

Once the cheering had calmed down, Chloe saw Beca wipe her face on her shirt again, this time to get rid of tears, not sweat.

This was more than Beca had expected. More than any of them had expected. She wasn’t predicted to be in the top 5, let alone gold medal position.

Chloe knew Beca was aiming for bronze at best. The two kids from Japan were going to dominate it, according to Beca, and Emily was predicted to place higher than her.

Watching the other girls skate was now almost as nerve wracking as watching Beca skate.

Predictably, the two Japanese girls crushed it, but Beca was still holding onto bronze.

On her final run, Emily fell, and remained in fourth place. Beca gave her a tight hug, and a small kiss on the side of the head. Chloe knew better than to feel jealous. They had been best friends for longer than Chloe had known either of them, and they saw each other as sisters.

Finally, it was time for Beca’s final run.

“Come on Beca,” Chloe muttered, not bothering to keep the fear from her face now.

Beca had a shot at gold, she was only a couple of points away. Chloe watched as she glanced over to her coach and nodded, and her stomach twisted.

That nod meant pull out all the stops. It meant trying tricks that were a bit more risky. More dangerous but, if she pulled them off, more impressive.

Beca was guaranteed a medal, but now she was about to find out which colour.

Chloe held her breath as Beca dropped into the course.

It was all going well. Beca was executing her tried and tested tricks without fault, but Chloe knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with that.

She watched as Beca shot up into the air, her knees close to her chest, her hand on her board, as she spun in mid air.

And then as Beca came down, the board slipped from underneath her and she fell backwards, her helmeted head hitting the concrete wall of the drop. Hard.

Chloe didn’t remember standing up and gripping the edge of the railings as she waited for Beca to get up. She also didn’t remember running down the stairs of the stands, pushing past people in order to get onto the course.

She definitely didn’t know how she got down the surprisingly intimidating drop to where Beca was currently lying, but she was at Beca’s side quicker than she thought possible.

She was awake, blinking slowly against the bright sunlight, but she didn’t seem to register that Chloe was there.

“Bec?”

“Don’t move her!”

Chloe turned to see Beca’s coach and the medic hurrying towards them.

“Ow,” Beca muttered.

“Beca!” Chloe said, tears of relief flowing down her cheeks. “You scared me, you asshole!”

With the help of the medic, Beca sat up, and they gently took off her helmet. “I didn’t get gold then?” She asked as they shone a small torch in her eyes

“No,” Chloe said, half crying, half laughing. “But you did make me look like a crazy person. How the fuck am I gonna be able to get out of here?”

“Hey, there are kids about,” Beca said, grinning and gesturing to the other competitors who were looking at her with genuine fear in their eyes. “And TV cameras. You’re gonna get a reputation as the bad girl of competitive swimming.”

“Shut up,” Chloe said. Now that the medics had moved out of the way, Chloe cupped Beca’s face in her hands. “Are you okay?”

Beca shrugged. “I fell off. No biggie.”

“Are you okay, though?”

“Well that depends, how many of you are there meant to be?” Beca asked, before letting out a snort of laughter at the panic on Chloe’s face. “I’m kidding! I’m fine. I’m just hurting a lot, all over.”

“Can you stand, Beca?” The medic asked.

“I think so,” Beca said. Chloe stood and held out her hands for Beca to take. Beca did, and Chloe pulled her to her feet. “You’re so strong.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said.

Beca was a little wobbly on her feet, but she still made sure to wave at the crowd and give them a thumbs up.

“Did I just win a fucking bronze medal at the Olympics?” She asked Chloe quietly, watching the fans cheering after she and Chloe were helped out of the course.

“Yep,” Chloe said, allowing herself to relax a little. “That’s really very sexy of you.”

“I know right?” Beca said, grinning as she draped her arms around Chloe’s shoulder again. “I’ve always said bronze was the sexiest medal.”

“And silver, obviously,” Chloe said as someone wrapped an American flag over their shoulders.

“Obviously.”

“Do you have your Pride flag with you?” Chloe asked.

“Obviously,” Beca said again, grinning as she pulled Chloe over to her bag so she could fish it out.

“Can the cameras see us here?”

“Dunno.”

“Eh, who cares,” Chloe said, before pulling Beca into a bruising kiss.

#bechloe #bechloe au #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #bechloe one shot #au #beca x Chloe #bechloe prompt #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #pitch perfect #fanfiction #fanfic

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

True Love

A Jeno fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: You, an employee at an entertainment company, are immune to the charms of their biggest star Lee Jeno.

Pairing: Rockstar! Jeno x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, fantasy, suspense

Warning: alcohol use, smut mention, stalking, manipulation

Word Count: 4.3k

(A/N: Hiya! I’m so sorry for the delay! It’s been so hectic lol! Thank you so much for your support and patience! Hope you enjoy! And shoutout to Krys for keeping me sane and for all of her love and support. I love you! :D)

___

To everyone in the world, Lee Jeno was the epitome of perfection and rock royalty. He was a gifted musician from the very young age of five, having specialized in several instruments in his childhood. However, his heart gravitated to the guitar. He became a trainee at LCF Entertainment and along with four other trainees, they became the world famous rock band, Temptation.

He was ranked in the top 23 in World Magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive this year. He was a walking and talking Adonis with a heartwarming smile.

Jeno was a man of many talents but he certainly didn’t let it get to his head. He was a humanitarian, a UNICEF ambassador, fostered shelter animals, was the proud owner of three cats even though he was allergic, a great family man (funding his siblings’ college tuition and providing for his parents so they could retire early), etc. He did it all and he had it all.

How could anyone be immune to his charms?

People wondered who would be the queen that would reign beside him when he settled down. Frankly, one couldn’t be anything short of a supermodel on the verge of sainthood. So many hopeful contenders were discouraged from pursuing him.

Jeno’s dating life was non-existent, the paparazzi dreaded to inform.

But you were an employee of LCF Entertainment so you knew the truth, as well as the true nature of the famous Lee Jeno. He was basically like any other young man with an inflated ego. He was cocky, a huge flirt when the cameras were off, very picky, and demanding. But no one ever dared speak a word of his true nature to the paparazzi. And you always wondered why. Someone had to bring him down a few pegs.

You were the staff photographer and videographer, in charge of capturing Jeno’s good and “relatable but still unbelievably glamorous” sides. When the camera was on, that was when you felt at ease.

It didn’t help that Jeno liked you either. Although you’d been working with Temptation and the individual members for a few years now, it was only recently that Jeno really was set on it pursuing you.

When you switched off the camera after the recording of Jeno’s backstage vlog, he sat comfortably at his makeup chair and proceeded to ask, “Y/n, will you go out with me now?”

You answered immediately, “No.”

Jeno gave you a sad puppy dog face. “Why not?”

“We’ve gone over this. I would get fired.” You wanted to spare his feelings so that was what you always said when he asked you out.

Jeno groaned. “You would not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You snorted. “You think you have that kind of power, Lee?”

He liked when you called him by his last name. “That’s because I do have that power, y/n. The new company building is funded solely out of my earnings from my last solo album.”

You whistled. “There’s that humility I’m always reading about in O!What Magazine…”

Jeno smiled. “You read articles about me?”

“I do when my name is in the article, boss.” You started packing up your equipment, ready to call it a day and head home.

Jeno got out of his chair and stood over you. He smelled of Dior Sauvage, cologne from his latest brand endorsement. He wore his stage clothes from his solo concert rehearsal. A sleeveless jean jacket top that parted down the middle to show his abs. Along his abs, silver chains dangled and added a nice glimmer effect when he was on stage. The entire team was thrilled to see how the audience would eat it up.

He whispered into your ear, “Y/n.”

Truthfully? He was attractive. You’d always had a little crush on him but it was of a shallow nature. You liked him for his looks. Not so much for his personality. You’d known too much.

If Jeno had been any other regular guy, you would’ve been open to a one-night stand.

But Jeno wasn’t just any regular guy.

You tried to hide the fact that shivers ran down your spine. “Stop.”

He chuckled. “But I can see you through the reflection, y/n...You're crossing your legs…”

You’d hoped he wasn’t that perceptive but it turned out he was. You hid away the fact that you were turned on. Your panties were damp but you’d be damned if he ever knew that.

You met Jeno’s perfectly lined eyes as he looked at you unapologetically. Everyone else from the staff already left. Jeno’s manager was waiting downstairs to take him to the radio station J-423 for his upcoming interview.

You were breathless now. “Jeno, you’re going to be late-”

He pulled you into him and kissed you, easily slipping his tongue into your mouth and working magic against yours. You couldn’t help but return his kiss. His mouth was paradise and you wondered what else he could do with it.

He let you go after a few minutes and cupped your face. “So are you going to deny that there’s something going on here?”

You tried to catch your breath as you wiped your lipstick off of Jeno’s mouth. “No, I guess not...But this is where it stops.”

Jeno frowned. “Y/n…”

“I know where I stand. And you know it, too. And Jeno, I don’t like you that way...I’m sorry.” You caressed his face and grabbed your things, leaving Jeno with an unreadable expression on his face.

___

As a member of LCF Entertainment, your ultimate goal was profit. That was what you had to know from the very beginning. There was no such thing as LCF Family or truly prioritizing the idols. Everyone was after themselves. Whoever brought the most money to the company would get the most attention and special treatment. And that was Jeno.

And you, an aspiring film director, were thankful to be on his team because this experience could open doors for you in the future as a director. Sure, Jeno was a diva and he couldn’t stop flirting with you, but the experience wasn’t all that bad. And yeah it was frustrating that the media and the public perceived Jeno to be the nation’s sweetheart. But in the end, he wasn’t hurting anyone.

He was only hurting people’s wallets.

Temptation’s merchandise always sold out quickly but Jeno’s individual merch was always the first to sell out. And it was the first to get resold for twice and sometimes even triple the price. The fanbase was very merciless and selfish with each other. However, the scalpers were the true evil. That was less money going to your company, after all.

Even though frontman Jeno was the most popular member of Temptation, it was Temptation’s drummer Xiaojun that you had a massive crush on for a long time now. You even accumulated a secret collection of his merch. You were two photocards away from completing your Xiaojun album photocard collection.

Xiaojun even admitted to liking you back but you both kept it a secret from everyone else in the world, especially LCF. You two weren’t about to compromise your jobs. However, since Temptation was the biggest moneymaker in the game and the boys had been with the company for quite some time now, their dating ban was lifted.

Which explained why Jeno had been asking you out all week, not caring who listened and it freaked you out.

If Jeno’s fans ever found out he asked you out, they would pin the blame on you.

A week had passed since you told Jeno you weren’t interested in him. You felt bad for hurting him but you were also worried about his mood. He had the power to get you dismissed. You refused to believe he would be so cruel.

And up until this point, you were right. You were still employed and Jeno spoke with you like any other day, talking about camera angles and new concepts for upcoming shoots.

The end of another work week and Xiaojun surprises you on your way to the bus stop.

“Y/n,” Xiaojun pulls up beside you in his Porsche. He looked so elegant in a pale blue sweater and blue jeans. His face was concealed by a mask so he could leave undetected. But you’d recognized those eyebrows anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I...I think we should finally talk…”

“About?”

He smiled. “About dating.”

You nearly dropped your phone out of your hand from the shock. “Really?”

He said, “Get in so I can drive you home!”

You nodded fervently and got into his passenger seat. Was this really happening?

On the drive home, Xiaojun told you he wanted to take it slow and have indoor dates with you first. You couldn’t agree more. He even surprised you with a brand new pair of AirPods after you told him that your brother took them from you.

The first of many gifts, he told you.

You got home that night and screamed excitedly into your pillow so as not to frighten your roommates

___

It has been a month since you and Xiaojun started seeing each other. You were on cloud nine. He would visit you at your apartment and would play with his dog Bella. Bella loved you a little more than she loved Xiaojun so you two would always bicker and end the night in each other’s arms.

Jeno noticed the spring in your step as you filmed his cooking vlog. He was showing his fans how he cooked breakfast for himself when he had down time. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers. He looked relaxed and for many, delectable, as his hair was wet from a shower. He was trying very hard to get your attention once again.

He anticipated you averting your eyes and stuttering at the sight of him but nothing. You whistled while you adjusted the tripod’s position.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jeno asked.

You nearly jumped at his question. You decided to be upfront. “I’m seeing Xiaojun.”

Jeno’s cool facade nearly cracked before your very eyes. “Oh?”

You apologized. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I should’ve told you that I liked Xiaojun…”

Jeno was furious. What the hell did Xiaojun have that he didn’t? Jeno was more muscular, taller, more talented, wealthier, more attractive...He was superior to Jeno in every way and everyone else knew it, too.

He honed his acting skills and replied evenly, “Why are you apologizing, y/n? So you like someone else...I’ll live.”

You realized maybe Jeno didn’t like you as much as you thought so you felt relieved to hear his dismissive tone. “Right. Good. I just...thought you should know…”

You and Jeno continued the shoot. He acted like nothing had happened and even behind the scenes, he joked with you and asked you which of the female trainees he should ask out. You berated him because female trainees were not allowed to date and he knew this very well. Jeno was back to his arrogant self and you were relieved.

___

You got a text from Xiaojun that he was finishing up a filming schedule with his bandmates. You wouldn’t be able to see him today because the schedule was running overtime.

He told you to go to dinner with some friends at Osaka Moon. His treat. He was good friends with the chef, apparently. You were on your way to the restaurant to meet your friends.

You were shocked at how down-to-earth Xiaojun still was after achieving so much fame and then he would do things like this. It gave you whiplash but you were having the time of your life with him.

However, you noticed him across the street. Xiaojun always wore different wigs and masks for his disguised outings with you.

But this time, there were no disguises. His side swept blonde hair and his thin framed glasses. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Was the filming for the show at the Downtown Hotel?

You were about to call his name when you saw another woman wrap her arms around him and squeeze his ass. She had long wavy brown hair and a slender frame. She could’ve been a model or a singer. They both entered the expensive hotel. Very bold of him to take her out so publicly when he was still intent on hiding you.

You felt like someone knocked the breath out of you. You shook your head in disbelief.

Immediately, you dialed Xiaojun’s number and there was no answer. You called four more times and nothing.

Son of a bitch, you thought.

He played you. You should’ve known he was no different than any other dickhead A-lister.

You decided to call his bandmates. It turned out that the filming they’d done today wrapped up over two hours ago.

Haechan had no idea where he was. Jisung didn’t either. Jaemin was equally perplexed. Last but not least you called Jeno.

He answered. “Hello?”

At this point, you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “Jeno…”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Xiaojun is?”

“Not specifically...he did mention he had a reservation at the Downtown Hotel…”

You sniffled. “He did?”

“I thought he was meeting you…”

“No, he wasn’t…”

“Oh...Oh, shit, y/n. I am so-“

“It’s okay...Thanks Jeno. I’ll see you on Monday…”

You told your friends to have dinner without you and to make sure to spare no expense because your so-called boyfriend was buying. You told them Xiaojun finished at the last minute and wanted to take you dancing.

A total lie so you could wallow at your local bar.

You sat right by the bar and downed a few glasses of beer. Just to feel anything else besides the betrayal you felt.

A half hour later, you were even more buzzed now. A young man sat beside you at the counter.

He started, “Hello, gorgeous.”

You looked at the young man. He was stunning. Another face that belonged on television. Another one of those who was capable of seducing you and tossing you away the very next second.

You flipped the bird. “Bite me.”

The young man scoffed and tried again, “Feisty, aren’t we?”

He got closer to you and you began to feel uncomfortable. “Please leave me alone…”

“Tsk tsk. A beautiful girl like you in tears? You need someone who will bring your smile back.”

“And you’re the man for that job?” Someone interrupted.

You were shocked to find Jeno here. He looked gorgeous in a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back the way you liked it most and wow, you may have had one too many drinks...A few customers recognized Jeno and started whispering and taking their cameras out.

“Jeno?” You nearly lost your balance as you got up from your chair.

Jeno grabbed you immediately before the other guy could.

The stranger said, “Why do you get to put your hands on her? Just cause you're some pretty boy with mediocre music...I’m sure she’s nothing compared to who you’ve bedded before-“

Jeno socked him in the face and escorted you out of the bar. The stranger cursed you both out as you left. Jeno led you quickly into his manager’s car that he borrowed for the night. You felt a little dizzy.

Jeno fastened your seatbelt.

You smiled at him. “Thanks.”

He looked at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Why are men scum, Jeno?”

Jeno sighed. “I’m so sorry about-“

“Don’t say his name...I...never want to see him again...God, now I have to sell all of his merch…”

Jeno frowned in confusion and continued, “I’ll take you home…”

You didn’t want to face your roommates. “No...Can I…Spend the night with you?”

It took all of Jeno’s might not to get out his car and raise his fist in the air. But he composed himself. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, wanting to forget all about Xiaojun and have one thoughtless night with Jeno. “Yes.”

Jeno drove you two to his penthouse suite. He was cautious around you and you were ready to shrug away your inhibitions.

Jeno helped you remove your coat at the entrance. “Take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”

You sat yourself on the couch and opened your legs wide, exposing your panties underneath your skirt. “Jeno, fuck me right now so I can forget his sorry ass.”

Jeno hesitated then but seeing how irresistible you were...He couldn’t help himself.

He asked again. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You were buzzed but not that buzzed. You wanted to spite Xiaojun. You wanted to acknowledge the part of you that longed for Jeno for so long, too. You’d be stupid to deny that you fantasized about a night with him.

You hesitated before but now you said, why the hell not?

You and Jeno made love that night. Jeno was over the moon that you were finally in his arms. Sure it was a rebound but the look in your eyes when he was inside you had to mean something. There was a promise there and Jeno held onto that glimmer of hope.

Jeno took you home the next day and he was very cool about the whole night. Right before you returned home. you reminded him about how this was a one night stand and thanked him for a wonderful night.

You were resolute in dumping Xiaojun and simply going back to work. Thankful you only ever worked for Jeno anyway. And as expected, Jeno was his usual self: cocky, flirty, sending his food back for random reasons.

Xiaojun came under the fire for going to a hotel with a potential prostitute. The identity of the woman he was seen with remained a mystery. He tried convincing everyone that the woman was not a prostitute but he couldn’t remember how he met her or what she looked like. That night and along with how crazy Xiaojun sounded caused the company to encourage him to leave. Xiaojun’s contract with LCF Entertainment was terminated.

The week after you and Jeno made love...You started catching feelings for him. Every glance. Every fleeting touch. It drove you mad. And suddenly that one night stand was something you wanted again. And again. And again.

You accompanied Jeno and his manager as he attended a gallery opening. You were in charge of his photos for his social media. He looked extremely dapper in his red suit. You just wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him in front of all of the guests. Becoming a work of art yourselves.

These thoughts you’ve been having used to scare you but now...you owned them. Tonight, when you got him alone, you would tell him how you really felt. You hoped you weren’t too late.

Jeno’s manager excused himself to get some refreshments. Jeno observed a painting while you took some more photos.

“Stunning,” you said aloud.

Jeno’s eyes grew at your words. “Wow, y/n...All the years we’ve worked together and you’ve never made a comment about my looks…”

Your face grew warm then. “I’m feeling a little bolder these days…”

He grinned. “Is that so?”

“Jeno, I won’t beat around the bush…I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night…”

“Y/n…”

“I know I said it was a one night stand and...You’ve moved on…”

Jeno started, “I haven’t…”

You were shocked to hear it. “Really?”

He moved closer to you and moved the camera away from your line of sight. “What are you saying, y/n?” His voice was dangerously low.

“I’m saying...that I want to be with you, Jeno.”

Jeno’s smile looked so gorgeous then. He was the true work of art at the gallery. “Well, y/n, I’ve made my feelings abundantly clear for a while now…”

He kissed you then. And the cameras started flashing.

You were on cloud nine. You finally released your suppressed feelings for the rockstar before you.

___

You’ve been together for two years now. He made you feel safe and loved. He showered you with gifts and trips to the most beautiful parts of the world.

As for the response from netizens and the company? Jeno had all the power and he could handle a few naysayers. Your job as his photographer and videographer remained intact. And you were well on your way to transitioning to your own film projects: your dream.

You and Jeno had become a couple to root for. They called you The Prince and The Pauper Turned Princess. You hated your label but whenever you looked at Jeno’s eyes, any anxiety or anger quickly faded.

Jeno had a solo performance in your city tonight and you were seated in a private booth. He was performing so well, moving from instrument to instrument. Driving people to tears with his long low notes. And then he surprised everyone with his announcement.

“Before I perform ‘Changed Your Mind’, I want to give a shout-out to the woman of my dreams, y/n, who is here with us tonight.”

The stadium roared in excitement and many heads turned to you. Your eyes never left Jeno.

“Y/n, I love you so much. We’ve come so far, baby. And I want us to never stop. Which is why…”

He got down from the stage and was escorted by security down to the crowd. He ran his hands past adoring fans as he made his way to you.

He entered your booth with his camera crew and security close by. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

You cried out, “Yes!”

Jeno picked you up and spun you around. You kissed passionately. The crowd’s roars thundered now. It was a celebration. You didn’t care that all eyes were on you now, as well. All you cared about was Jeno. And he loved you more than anything else in the world.

You truly found your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier.

___

Jeno finished his show and was backstage cooling down with a bottle of water.

“Good job tonight,” a woman said as she stood at the door of Jeno’s dressing room.

“Thank you, sis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeno’s older sister Yeeun sat on the couch of the dressing room. “How does it feel to have her in your clutches now?”

Jeno smirked. “Pretty damn great.”

“And I’m here to collect my payment, little brother.”

Jeno sighed. “Really? It’s been two years.”

Yeeun looked at her manicured nails. “I’ve been busy.”

Jeno laughed. “Screwing over taken men? I’m sorry, I meant screwing taken men?”

“Nope. That task was a one-and-done deal. How is that poor boy doing these days?”

“Xiaojun? He’s back at school getting his master’s...He’s happy.”

“Has he tried to contact y/n since then?” Yeeun asked.

Jeno chuckled. “No. Why would he?”

She smiled at him. “They were sweet together. And you tore them apart because you couldn’t take no for an answer, could you?”

Jeno rolled his eyes. “And what about it? I have a right to get whatever I want. Do you know who I am?”

Yeeun sighed. “Yes, you repeatedly tell the family group chat who you are every week. And we all take it because you pay us well…”

Jeno and Yeeun had conspired against you and Xiaojun. Jeno stole Xiaojun’s phone and Yeeun charmed Xiaojun to join her for a night at the hotel. Jeno planned for you to go to Osaka Moon so you could see Xiaojun and Yeeun together.

Jeno watched you as you broke down in tears, calling each of his bandmates. He made sure he was far enough away by the time you called him. He played the part of a concerned friend very well. He had to take up acting, another field he would surely dominate. And with you as his director? It made him hard just thinking about it.

Jeno didn’t coincidentally find you at the bar. He’d been tailing and that stranger who hit on you was only an added bonus. Jeno could play the unsuspecting hero and you would eat it up. And that you did. He was satisfied to know that you wanted to sleep with him. He didn’t care about being a rebound.

Even so, he wasn’t going to take any chances. So after you left his penthouse the next morning, he took the bedsheets you came on and the strands of hair you left behind and got to work.

Did you really think Jeno amassed such success and wealth all on his own? He had a little help from his family and their friends from Hell, of course. Jeno’s family came from a long line of Satan-worshipping witches. Jeno was the youngest of the descendants.

Human sacrifice was only a small token of the Lee family’s appreciation to Lucifer. So Jeno’s deception of Xiaojun was almost nothing in the list of gruesome things Jeno has done to reach the top of his game.

Yeeun was able to literally charm Xiaojun with her own special concoction. Once she and Xiaojun had sex, she wiped his memory of that hour and left him alone at the hotel. Confused. Disoriented. Worried.

As for you? Well, you were the most irresistible creature in this world. Your immunity to his charms was only the first step in his growing feelings for you. You were brilliant and talented at your craft, always capturing his best features on camera. You were gorgeous. He was surprised you didn’t become an idol at LCF yourself. You were warm and sweet and giving. Even if the company was cutthroat, he saw how you’d be with your coworkers and the other idols. You were just a pure, loving girl. And he desperately needed you. Desired you. Craved you.

He simply had to call you his.

With your samples, he was able to create the perfect spell to make you his.

Forever.

That was what Jeno called true love.

[Fin]

512 notes · View notes

justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 1)

Chapter Summary: The first encounter.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.2k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, one night stand for now, fingering, oral sex (female receiving) sex deprived reader, multiple orgasms, boytoy!Bucky.

A/N: I can’t express how much I appreciate the awesome feedback the prologue received. I wasn’t able to reblog all the comments, but I do read them all and I can’t believe how kind you all are. I really hope I can keep up with your expectations. The link to my masterlist is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. @lesqui I love you.

Prologue Here.

“Bucky Barnes?” you squeal after the air got caught in your throat, “You mean The Bucky Barnes?” Leaning forward and lowering your voice, you check if you’ve heard correctly, “Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“You’ve talked to him before, right?” Natasha frowns as if she’s trying to collect the information from her memory.

“Yeah, I mean, I usually see him at the Tower when I go see you and in almost all of Tony’s parties and all. He talked with Eddie and I once, he seemed pretty interested in our work with technology,” you say, remembering the occasion and all the enthusiastic questions he had made, right before disappearing from the party with a beautiful brunette on his arm. It had caught your attention how the super soldier seemed such a tech geek, but that’s the closest interaction you had with him.

“I don’t think your extensive knowledge was his only interest, though.” The smile twisting Nat’s lips can only be described as cheeky.

You side eye her, identifying her suggestions but not quite buying it. She must be going bananas to suggest Bucky Barnes could be the guy to help you with your… situation. You barely know the guy outside sharing the same space a few occasions and what you’ve heard of his public figure. Not to mention that, the times you’d seen him on social events he always had a couple of women on his neck.

“He’s an attractive man, you can’t deny that.” Natasha declares , rolling some pasta on her fork.

“Are you kidding me?” you scoff, “He’s hot as fuck, you can hear the sound of pants dropping when he passes by our department, he just loses to Thor- you should see what happens there when people just hear he’s around.” Your eyes go bigger for a second, making Nat chuckle, “Yeah, Bucky Barnes is fucking hot and that’s why he’s way out of my league.”

“Hmm,” Nat tightens her lips and grabs her glass of water as she leans back on her seat, “That’s not what I heard in his voice when he asked about you this morning.” She peeks at you from under her eyelashes as she drinks from her water.

“What?”

“Well.” She grabs the knapping to pat it over her lips, “I said I was having lunch with you and he asked if you were still dating Eddie… in a very not he’s out of your league way.” She mockingly mimics your voice before smirking at you.

You can feel the rush of heat creeping up from your chest to your neck, but you shake your hand, dismissing the suggestion on her comment, “I’m sure that means nothing and besides, no matter how horny I am, I’m not ready to get romantically involved with anyone else right now, that’s not I want.”

A loud and nearly hysterical laugh bursts out of Natasha’s lips. Placing both her hands on her belly her head falls back. Not finding what you could have said that was so funny you just lift a brown, staring at her.

“Honey,” she says when she finally stops laughing, keeping a huge smile on her lips, “You’re safe with him, I swear.” She raises a hand in a promising gesture, “Romancing you is the last thing on his mind. And if it’s not what you want either, if you’re looking for a no strings attached thing, Bucky will be more than happy to be your boytoy.”

The heat which started on your chest rushes to your cheeks when you let out an embarrassed giggle at her word choice, “Jesus, Nat…”

“That’s the truth,” she assures, “Let me put it this way,” Nat adds, leaning closer and gesturing for you to do the same, “If it’s a good fuck you’re in need of, he’s quite… let’s say…” she purses her lips , searching for the word, “Suitable… for the mission.” She bites her lower lip and winks. “I can guarantee you that.”

Your jaw drops at the confession, “Shut up.” A guttural tone comes out in your voice.

There’s nothing but smugness on her demeanor as she leans back, “A few months ago, he and I needed a distraction after a mission…” She shrugs, “Listen, don’t ever tell him I said that but the guy knows what he’s doing. That sinful tongue of his? Ugh, should be illegal…the best goddamn orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. And he was never weird or anything about it later, I gotta give him that.”

You can’t believe you don’t see a single trace of pink on Nat’s face as she tells you all of that…and you? You have no dignity. No self-control, anymore. You sure hope Nat doesn’t notice as you can’t help but brushing your thighs together. You were a lost cause when she mentioned the illegality of his tongue. That was a particularly hard no of Eddie and so help you God if you’re not turned on as hell right now by just thinking of the possibilities. You’re not blind or stupid. Bucky Barnes would be a dream guy to have in your bed, and if Nat says he might be interested and is on the same page as you are...

“How could we arrange that?” Your voice comes out a little too breathless.

Nat lets out a knowing chuckle, “Leave it to me.”

~~~

When Natasha asked where you wanted to first meet him you mentioned one of your favorite restaurants. You figured a public and neutral place would be fitting in case you decided to flee out of the situation for any given reason. After all, it would be your first encounter with another man other than Eddie after ten years and you thought going slow and gentle with yourself would be the right move.

That’s what you thought…

Now, having the guy in front of you across the table, his attention apparently focused on the menu on his hands looking like a goddamn God of sex… a public place is the last place you wanted to be.

You’re not sure if he notices you staring from above your menu as his eyes casually roam through his, but you don’t even care. You had seen him up close before and you always knew how hot he was, but now… with the prospect of what may happen tonight, it seems like all your senses are enhanced when it comes to him.

He had arrived a bit later than the scheduled time but you let that one go once you got glimpses of a disconcerting wide smile adorned by the five o’clock shadow on his face, which seemed especially designed to make women – and men- swoon. He’s wearing dark jeans and a blue t-shirt and you wonder how he can make the simple outfit so damn sexy. His fairly long hair is tied back in a low bun and you had to hold back the impulse to pull it back and grab a handful of his locks.

When he shook your hand you swallowed back a whine at the feel of his strength, wondering how it would be the feeling of his broad arms around you… by the tiniest of smirks on his lips maybe you’re not sure whether you succeeded in disguising that one.

He’s been a gentleman so far. Making conversation – with the sexiest voice you’ve ever heard- in such a natural and spontaneous way. You’re not sure what Natasha had told him beforehand exactly, but not for a minute he’s made you feel embarrassed by any chance and the scratch inside you only grew… desperate for his touch.

“Hmmm,” The sound coming out of his lips purrs into your ears and it hits straight to your core as he keeps his eyes on the menu. You sulk in a breath, “So many delicious treats…Can’t figure out what I want…” He slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours and you don’t know if it’s your horniness speaking but all you see there is a mischievous dark shade, “What do you want?” He darts his tongue out to wet his lips and that’s it.

“I want to get the hell out of here.” The honest answer comes out without giving you the chance to even think about it.

His eyes grow even darker and he immediately shuts the menu, dropping it on the table, “Your place or mine?”

~~~

The very moment you step into your living room, the boldness which had started to mold your attitude seems to lessen. You’re still horny as ever and still wish nothing but to be completely ruined by him, but the fact that you just brought him to the condo you bought with Eddie – the place where you had planned to live the rest of your life with him - starts to weigh on your shoulders. Besides you’ve never been intimate with anyone else, you don’t even know where to start, what to do or say.

Gulping down the anxiety, you hold the door opened for him and he walks inside. The uber ride to your place had been just like the little time you spent together at the restaurant. Small talk, him being respectful and nice and that’s it. He still feels like a complete stranger to you, which he really is, and you’re not sure how to feel about it yet.

“Uh, do you want something to drink?” you ask passing by him towards the center table to drop your purse, trying not to show your nervousness into your voice, “A glass of wine, maybe?”

Your breath hitches as the heat of his body hovers your back, “Is that what you really want now?” His warm breath tickles your ear and goosebumps rush over your skin.

“Ahm, D-did Natasha tell you about-” The rest of what you were about to say is swallowed by a sigh when you register the touch of his both hands on your hips. A light and simple touch and you can feel yourself already turning into jelly.

“She told me the situation, yeah.” Like he’s testing the waters, he circles his flesh arm around you, pulling you closer to his broad chest when you offer no resistance, “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Nuzzling into the crook of your neck he breathes in your scent.

Your head falls backwards into him and your legs shake. You’re incredibly turned on right now, just by the touch and proximity of him, you’re absolutely sure you won’t survive the night.

“Are you nervous?” he asks gently.

“A-A bit yeah.” Your breathing accelerates as his lips graze upon your pulsing point and his hand plays with the fabric of your loose skirt right over your lower belly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you answer a little too quickly and a little too loudly, “No…” you repeat yourself, making sure to sound a bit more confident as you place a hand over his and drag it down to the end of your skirt above your thigh. “I don’t want you to stop, Bucky,” you whisper, as you slide his hand under the fabric, bunching it on your way while you guide him to where you’re aching for whatever this night will bring.

Accepting your lead and your assurance, he hooks his hand under the lace of your underwear, coaxing out a gasp out of you as his touch eases between your folds, “Goddammit,” he breathes, softly moving his finger back and forth, “You’re wet already, beautiful. Is it all for me? Damn,” he curses under his breath, “You’re turning me fucking on.”

You answer him with a wanton moan as your eyes flutter shut, letting yourself drown in the expert movements between your legs.

“Try to not overthink anything… I know what you want…” As his finger teases over your clit, he whispers in your ear, “I want it, too.” When he kisses your neck down to your shoulder, you’re thankful for the metal grip on your waist or else you’ll be putty on the floor.

“Shit…” You bite your lip and while one of your hands reach behind to the nape of his neck, the other grabs the pulse of his hand which is leisurely playing with your pussy. Not to stop him, but to find some extra support to keep yourself up.

His chuckle reverberates through the skin of your neck, “Right now here’s what we’re going to do.” He drags his lips to your ear again, “I’m gonna make you cum, sweetheart.” Bucky shows his intention by sliding a finger inside you, holding you tightly when your knees buckle, “I’m gonna take the edge off and make you come on my fingers and then we see what comes next for us tonight.” He pulls you to him, pressing your ass to his hardness, “We don’t need to worry or plan anything… we’ll just let it happen, ok? Can you feel how much I want you tonight, sweetheart? Do you want me, too? Do you want me to make you come?” He punctuates every line by dragging his lips over your skin.

His words make you dizzy with a powerful and overwhelming desire burning you up from inside out… you let yourself sink into the pleasure building up inside your body and your answer is to circle your hips against him, in pace with the move of his finger inside you while his thumb plays with your clit.

“Hmm, that’s right… say it, sweetie, I wanna hear you…” He presses his thumb a little harder against your clit.

“Yes, fuck yes.” you cry, between hard breaths, “I want you to make me come… I want it so bad, please...”

He responds to your plea by quickening his strokes. The disappointment when he removes his middle finger from inside quickly vanishes when he focuses on your clit, working on the sensitive nub with the sole mission to make you come. Your core tightens and tightens and you’re a moaning mess in his hold, his hot breath on your neck making you lightheaded. You’re not gonna last long, and you’re torn between the desperate need to come and trying to focus and hold yourself back because it feels so goddamn good you don’t want it to end just yet. The heat of his body crowds you, making the whole world spin around you. As you moan and breathe out your pleasure, his hold and touch ruling your mind and body, the squelching sounds coming from the move of his fingers on your impossibly wet pussy invades your senses.

“Fuck…listen to you, you’re so damn sexy.” He sucks on your pulsing point before brushing his soft tongue over the tender spot, “Come, sweetie, let go… I wanna feel you soaking my fingers even more.”

It all becomes delightfully too much, and a few more expert circles on your clit joined to the sensation of his teeth grasping your earlobe drive you to the edge. Like a puppet on his strings, you come. You’re not quiet when it happens and your whole body shakes with the shocks of pleasure, your thighs shutting on their own will around his hand. Once again he catches you when your body goes limp against his, whispering praising words to your ear. It’s a head to toe orgasm and it’s heaven inside your body. You realize you needed this even more than you knew…

But you need more and you want much more.

As soon as you feel the strength coming back to your legs, you tap his hand off of your underwear and turn around capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. You’ve been thinking about kissing those beautiful lips ever since you first laid your eyes on him that night and he doesn’t disappoint by kissing you back right away just as fiercely, while his hands roam through your body and his tongue seeks yours.

He starts walking you backwards and you take a hand off his neck to point the direction to your bedroom, to where he follows. He groans when you capture his lower lips between your teeth and grabs a handful of your ass. Dying to wrap your legs around him, you jump and he promptly catches you from under your thighs. It’s hard to think about parting your lips from his alluring ones and you don’t stop kissing him until you’re inside your bedroom and he parts from you, throwing you on your bed.

You yelp at the leap, which is far from delicate, and prop yourself on your elbows, watching as he takes off his shirt and tosses it to the side. It’s already a struggle to breathe but your situation worsens when you see his exposed abs and shoulders and arms and fucking muscular chest… You silently thank the heavens for your friendship with Natasha Romanoff. You can’t help but notice the scars by the metal arm, but he doesn’t seem worry in the slightest by having them exposed and fuck you if the attitude doesn’t turn you on even more.

He doesn’t wait long before jumping back on you. Having your skirt bunched up your hips you gladly welcome him between your legs kissing him with the same force from before and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. He groans when his tongue brushes against yours and you sigh through his lips as he starts rocking his hips against yours. Even through the fabric of his jeans and the lace of your underwear the touch brings sparks to your core as you feel the evident bulge grinding against you.

The cold of his metal hand hikes under the hem of your top, making the little hairs in your body rise on his way. You part from his lips just to pull up your top and throw it aside. You’re not sure how it happens but in a bat of an eye he reaches behind you and with an expert pull, he unfastens your bra. The piece of underwear is all of a sudden out of you, baring your chest for him.

You gasp in awe for his skills and he smirks, “I really needed to see those titties,” he smiles. When his eyes drop to your chest, he inhales sharply, “Fucking gorgeous.”

You’re sure you had something to say back to him, but the room soon fills up only with sounds of your hard breathing as he wraps his warm mouth around a breast sucking on it harshly. While his tongue curls around your nipple his metal hand gives your other breast some attention, massaging it with the perfect amount of roughness.

Your hips buck into his hips, seeking more friction, to release you from the coiling ache in your core. You do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, pulling the tie from his hair and grabbing a handful of his locks as he ravishes your chest.

After taking his time on your breasts, having his fill of sucking, nibbling and grabbing them, he drags his lips up your neck till it stops on your ear, “What do you want? I’ll do whatever you want...” He offers.

You’re still quite a bit distracted by the rock of his hips against yours to fully register what he’s so sultry whispering in your ear, grazing your hands down the burly muscles on his back. He feels so big, so strong in your arms…

“Tell me, sweetheart, tell me what you want.” he purrs into your ear.

When he offers again, his sinful tongue doing wonders on your neck, a thought sweeps into your mind… By experience, you know men don’t enjoy that very much, but Bucky seems willing to please and odds are you won’t see him again after tonight… Yeah, why the hell not… “I-I want you to-to eat me out.” It blurts out of your lips before any kind of self-consciousness strikes your resolve.

The grinding of his hips halts and you’re already bracing yourself to see his disgusted expression when he moves his lips away from your jaw and leans back to stare down at you. But what you see instead makes your stomach flip in the most delicious way. His blue eyes are impossibly dark and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, like he’s about to eat a delicious treat.

After placing his lips on yours briefly, he makes his descent, showering your chest and stomach with warm and wet opened mouth kisses. Your heart beats fast when an up till now unknown sensation invades your chest, making it tingle with excitement and anticipation. He brushes his nose over the lace of the underwear you’ve specially bought for the occasion, right above your mound. Your breath catches in your throat when he places a long and chaste kiss upon it.

He didn’t really seem to care about your brand new underwear as he’s quick to drag it down. You raise your legs to help him out before he tosses it aside, keeping his eyes on your exposed pussy as he gets down from the bed. You gasp when he pulls your legs bringing you close to edge of the mattress as he sinks on his knees on the floor, hooded eyes on your spread pussy right before his face. This is definitely the most exposed you’ve ever been to a man – your boyfriend of ten years included- and it turns you on even more than it should.

You’re aware of how wet you are, and the smell of your arousal is strong enough to fill your own nostrils... You should be embarrassed, you know you should and definitely thought you would be, to be in a situation like that with a man you barely know, but that’s definitely not the case as enticing, aching sparks twirl inside you.

As you fist the sheets on each side of you, the time seems to freeze as you long for what’s to come. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried about time, as he ghosts his fingers on both your inner thighs. The light touches- one cold the other warm- makes you shudder and… ticklish. You bite back a laugh but it doesn’t slip from his attention.

“Tickles, sweetheart?” He chuckles against the soft skin of our inner thigh, causing his voice to reverberate through your skin, not to mention the light scratch of his stubble and you just can’t hold back anymore.

You cover your mouth with both hands as the giggles slip out unbidden. It seems to amuse him while he keeps sliding his fingers and his lips over the little spots, a sweet torment that makes you laugh harder and squirm your legs.

“Plea- Oh, fuck.” Your voice – and the giggles- die in a gasp and your back arches as he engulfs your whole pussy with his mouth with no warning.

The warm sensation is new and overwhelming and your first reflex is to try and pull away from it but he’s faster, wrapping his arms around your thighs, holding you still to his face. He delves his tongue in caressing your most sensitive parts and it feels soft and wet and silky. It tingles and you struggle to breathe as he meticulously swirls his tongue all over your pussy, spreading your juices around you and himself.

“Holy motherfucker,” you cry out and your eyes flutter shut and you once again arch your body because an intense and new pleasure covers every fiber of your pussy and rushes up your spine. Your fists twist the sheets harder as he swiftly laps at you.

“Hummm,” the vibration makes your whole body tremble before Bucky tilts his head to nibble softly at your inner tigh, “You taste fucking amazing,” he adds, placing your legs over his shoulders.

The praise alone is enough to make you clench around nothing and if you thought it was good so far, after he dives in again it’s with a renewed hunger. He sucks and nibbles and properly fucks you with his tongue and lips, keeping you securely attached to his hold. You’re a mess. Your whole body reacts to the sensations, and you’re loud as you moan and gasp and he keeps your hips steady to his hold.

He swirls his tongue around your clit and you’re there. You’re almost there… your head sinks into the mattress and you dig your fingers into your hair, your ribs moving fast unashamedly grinding on his face at the rhythm of your breathing and you’re fucking there-

“What the-?” you groan, propping yourself on your elbows to look down. You see Bucky staring up at you, your arousal glistening on his jaw as he puts on a malicious smirk.

You’re about to protest about the lack of action but your mouth shuts when he sucks his fingers and brings them to tease your entrance before inserting them at once. The sudden intrusion makes your head fall back as you shout out a moan. You prop your feet – or rather your heels which you still have on- on the mattress, letting your knees up as he curls his fingers inside, as if looking for something.

“Oh, shit,” you curse between harsh breaths when he finds the spot he’s been looking for. The sheet bunches in your fists and your head snaps up at him.

He keeps lustful blue eyes on you as he fucks you harshly and fast with his hand, making sure to brush his fingers right on the spot that makes you scream. Your moans fill up the room, mixing up with the squelching sounds of his hand in your pussy. Your eyes shut when it’s there again, that tight knot twisting your insides, the desperate need of release, to soak his hand once again.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum- No!” you shout when he pulls back his hand. You shoot a look that you’re sure is nothing but pitiful at him, but he doesn’t deprive you for long as his lips are on your pussy again, humming at your taste once more.

His skilled tongue goes back on doing wonders coaxing shocks of pleasure in your core, his face deep into your pussy moving up and down, side to side. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he grabs one of your thighs with his metal hand and you grind your hips against his face, trying so desperately to hush your release.

But he’s in the mood to torture you. A sweet and maddening torment as he brings you to the edge and stops, alternating from fucking you with his fingers and then his tongue. At some point, when you’re already surrendered to his power, with his tongue flickering over your throbbing clit, he brings his flesh hand down his body. Since he’s kneeling by the edge of the bed, you have no vision of it, but you listen to the sound of him unbuckling his belt. His tongue doesn’t stop as he brings his finger to your cunt, coating it in your juices before bringing his hand down again.

Your skin burns and all the air isn’t enough to fill up your lungs as you realize by the movements of his arm that he’s touching himself. He’s getting himself off while eating your pussy and you’re sure you’ve never seen or felt anything so hot in your whole life. You just wish you could get a glimpse of his cock.

With everything he’s doing to you and the fact you’ve been on the edge for a while, the addition of the thought of his cock in his hand is more than you can take and this time it comes unannounced. Incoherent sounds you never knew you were able to produce slip out of you as strong spirals of pleasure burst from your pussy, rushing up your spine and down your legs, curling your toes and turning you into a trembling loud mess, completely at mercy of the buzzing ecstasy invading all of your senses.

“Holy fuck!” Your body jerks up with aftershocks of your climax but he’s not having it and keeps you steady to his hold, licking up your sensitive pussy and rushing up his hand on him, “Oh, shit, oh fuck, shit, shit, shit.” Your mind blacks out and you scream unashamedly and your body collapses to the mattress as he drives you to yet another powerful orgasm with his tongue.

From your blurry vision, you spot his arm jerking even faster and he rests his head on your thigh. With eyes closed and biting his sinful lips- coated in your pleasure- he grunts his own release.

You both stay like that for awhile. You sprawled on your bed relishing in your own little paradise while he rests against your thigh, both trying to calm down your breathing. You’re completely spent, the pant up energy in you being drained by the three outstanding orgasms he had given you that night.

You feel your eyes fluttering, fighting against sleep, and in a blur, you see Bucky getting up and moving around, you don’t fully register what he’s doing but you know he gets in and out of the bathroom a few times, seems to clean the floor with toilet paper and fumbles with his clothes. You roll your numb and contented body to the side, seeking a comfort position to enjoy the full state of bliss you’re in.

“Are you alright?” He gets closer to you, bending over the side of your bed he reaches to cup your cheek and hands you a glass of water. You hadn’t even seen when he went to the kitchen. “Did you have fun?”

A lazy but fulfilled smile spreads in your face as you incline yourself just enough to drink from the water, gulping it down to the last drop, “Oh, yeah…I’m fabulous.” Your heavy eyes drop to his jeans to see it fully clothed and his jeans zipped up. You realize you’re incredibly satisfied and didn’t even get to see his cock or actually do anything per se, “Ahm, do you want to-”

“Shhh, don’t worry...I had an amazing time, tonight,” His voice is gentle and soft, grinning back at you.

To be honest, you’re kinda relieved by his answer. You’re so damn relaxed right now you’re not sure you would have the energy to do anything else, no matter how enticing the thought sounds.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, taking the empty glass from your hand.

You shake your head, still smiling at him.

“Alright, sweetheart...I’m gonna go then. You rest now and whenever you need me, will you call me?”

“Fuck yeah.” You breathe out, collapsing on the bed again, trying to keep your eyes opened.

He chuckles at your quick answer, “It’s a deal?” He leans over your earlobe and bites softly on it, making you shrug and let out a small giggle.

“It’s a deal.” you murmur back, nodding slowly before dozing off with the lazy smile still on your face.

~~~

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