#cass beer
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
pokeberry5 · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
thug beatdown round 2: electric boogaloo
(extras, cw flashing gif:)
Tumblr media
alt:
Tumblr media
the fit:
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
drbatsponge · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
They would be friends.
And I mean all of them. 😭
32 notes · View notes
datura-tea · 10 months ago
Text
i went to the beach for the weekend and it was a lot of fun even though i kept getting washed out by the waves haha so now im imagining a beach day for moz and friends :)
13 notes · View notes
dont-justdont · 1 year ago
Text
im gonna be honest with yall at some point around season 11 or something i just assumed destiel was canon and genuinely forgot for a second that they werent and i was very confused when dean was getting with amara cause i was just there like what about your husband???
2 notes · View notes
littlebabynothingz · 2 years ago
Text
moving my gf’s stuff in, which is exciting as fuck, but we’re paying our helpers in pizza and beer which we’re gonna have soon.
I’m sooooo not stoked for this. At least I have cigarettes now but goddamn.
2 notes · View notes
allthegothihopgirls · 6 months ago
Text
anyways i think bruce historically takes the batboys on an annual fishing trip which they all hate so so so much. it gets to the point where it's only tim accompanying him, because unlike dick or jason, tim would simply disintegrate from guilt if he stayed home.
then cass comes along and bruce thinks "oh no well there goes my fishing trips. all of the boys hate them anyways... and it's not like i can take a GIRL fishing."
cue bruce and cass, alone next to some dinky old river with nothing but their fishing rods and an esky full of cold beers, wearing a matching pair of fuckass fishing hats, both religiously applying sunscreen and bug spray.
4K notes · View notes
delusionsofgrandeur13 · 11 months ago
Text
ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.
it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.
his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.
batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.
he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.
the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.
“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”
he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.
he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.
his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.
he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.
his nights are full of tossing and turning.
he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.
he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.
couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.
he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.
he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.
couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.
his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.
you were everywhere,
he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.
how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.
he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.
he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.
what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.
the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.
when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.
how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.
you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.
it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.
but yet, you were now nowhere.
3K notes · View notes
fratttymatty · 6 months ago
Text
Not Bullied No More
*All characters are 18 or over*
Tumblr media
Johnny was at school and he had already been bullied by the homophobic, straight, soccer boys, Austin, Mason, Jake, Brady, and Carter, for being gay. They all had the same tiktok boy hair, fluffy and messy.
Later on at home, his cheerleader girl best friend, Cassie, messaged him on discord with a link with a message.
“Heyy! You should like totes join this super duper cool discord server it’s like totes really cool, I’m like in it too!!!!!!” She messaged.
You join it and he is met with the accounts of Cassie, Austin, Mason, Jake, Brady and Carter. Yhey all start sending hypnosis videos on the server to turn him into a new boy, one of the bullies.
"What are they?!" Johnny messages and then looks at one.
All of the videos were different lengths, the one that he looked at was one of the medium length ones.
At first it was normal pictures, pictures of cars, sports equipment, and a hot, popular girl then it started showing videos of his bullies, pictures of them at the gym, at football games, and at social events then there were words that pop out at him.
“YOU WILL BE GOOD BOY!”
“YOU WILL LOOK LIKE US!”
The video then shows more pictures of his bullies, more videos, the voices of his bullies saying “YOU ARE STRAIGHT”, and “WE ARE THE BULLIES”, then it becomes more intense the words start popping up on the screen more intense and more demanding.
“YOU LOVE GIRLS! YOU ARE HETERO!”
“YOU LOVE BEING POPULAR!”
“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! YOU LOVE HER!”
“YOU ARE STRAIGHT!”
“YOU HATE BEING FEMININE!”
“ YOU ARE ONE OF THE BOYS!”
The video then shows images of the bullies at parties, girls around them and having a good time. The words flash faster as the video goes in a spiral and the background is pink. The spiral starts going faster, the words become intense and start infiltrating his mind.
”YOU LOVE BEING STRAIGHT!”
”YOU LOVE FOOTBALL!”
”YOU HATE BEING GAY!”
”YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS HOT!”
“YOUR OLD LIFE SUCKED!”
The video then slowly changes colour and the background changes from the pink spiral to a picture of a popular girl. He feels himself start to change. His old personality starts to break down.
”YOU’RE A HOT FOOTBALL PLAYER!”
”YOU LOVE PARTYING!”
”GAY IS DISGUSTING!”
”GIRLS HAVE NICE TITS!”
”YOU COULDN’T EVEN MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH A GIRL.”
He goes into a deep trance as the video goes on. ”YOU HAVE A SUPER HOT GIRLFRIEND!”
”YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT FOOTBALL!”
”YOU HATE MATH!”
”YOU LOVE GOING TO THE GYM!”
”YOUR NAME IS JOSH!”
”YOU CAN STARE AT GIRLS�� TITS!”
”YOU WANT TO HAVE CHILDREN!”
He feels himself become hypnotized by the video and the words. He doesn’t want to stop watching, it feels so good.
”YOU’RE SUPER HUNKY!”
”YOU LOVE LIFTING WEIGHTS!”
”YOU LOVE TO GET DRUNK!”
”YOU HAVE ABS!"
”YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS BEAUTIFUL!”
”YOU HAVE A HOT CHEST!”
”YOU ARE A MAN!”
”YOU ALWAYS HAD A GIRLFRIEND!”
”YOU ARE ONE OF THE HOTTEST GUYS IN SCHOOL!”
”YOU LOVE DRINKING BEER!”
”YOU LOVE FOOTBALL AND SOCCER!”
”YOU NEVER HAD PROBLEMS TALKING TO A GIRL!”
”YOU ARE SUPER STRAIGHT!”
”YOU HATE FEM BOYS!”
”GIRLS WANT YOU!”
His mind started to change drastically.
”YOU LOVE BEING AT PARTIES!”
”YOU LOVE WHEN HOT CHICKS LOOK AT YOU!”
”YOU LOVE WHEN YOU WEAR YOUR FOOTBALL JERSEYS AND JEANS!”
”YOU LOVE WHEN YOU PUT ON YOUR SNEAKERS!"
”YOU HAVE SUPER BIG PECS!”
”GIRLS LOVE YOU!”
”YOU WILL ALWAYS LIKE PUSSY!”
The video then cuts to a picture of one of the bullies, Mason, in his room. Johnny, or Josh, been to his room before, it’s huge, and he’s rich. Mason is very fit and has a nice body and big muscles. The video then shows a picture of his muscles, then his arms, his back, and then his shorts. the audio then says one simple thing.
”YOU’RE HUNG!”
the video then shows a picture, one of Mason’s shorts that are a bit tight. then more words come across the screen that say:
”YOU HAVE BIG ABS!”
”YOU HAVE A WIDE CHEST!”
”YOU HAVE A MASSIVE CHAD!”
”YOU WOKE UP TODAY WITH MASSIVE BALLS!”
”YOU HAVE A THICK GIRTH!”
Suddenly a picture of Cassie appears, she’s a very ditzy and hot Latina cheerleader. The video suddenly then says the words…
“HOT GIRLFRIEND!”
"SHE’S ALL YOURS!"
He starts jerking off when he sees Cassie.
The video then shows pictures of Cassie, on the cheer squad, being a dumb bimbo, during the school day, and selfies.
”SHE’S YOUR GIRL!”
”SHE’S ALL YOURS, YOU’RE A HUNK!”
”SHE’S A SPICY LATINA GIRL!”
”YOUR GIRLFRIEND! YOU WAKE UP WITH HER IN YOUR MANLY BED!”
The video goes on with more pictures of Cassie and talks about his relationship with her. They flash quickly in his mind, pictures of him kissing her, her body against his super big chest, and even him in the locker room talking to her. The video then changes to pictures of football players, with strong bodies and big muscles and tight clothes.
”YOU LOVE FOOTBALL!”
”YOU LOOK HOT IN JERSEYS!”
It switches bac to talking about Cassie.
”SHE’S DUMB!"
”STUPID DITZ!”
Then a picture of his old personality comes on the screen.
”YOU USED TO THINK YOU WOULD NEED A SMART GIRL!”
”YOU THOUGHT YOU NEEDED A GIRLFRIEND YOU COULD TALK TO!”
”NOW YOU KNOW BETTER!"
”YOU WILL ALWAYS DATE DUMB GIRLS!”
”YOUR GIRLFRIEND JUST HAS TO BE DUMB!”
”DUMB CHICKS WITH BIG TITS WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR TYPE.”
He suddenly imagines himself with a new haircut, he suddenly pictures himself with a nice, fluffy, messy, clean haircut, one that girls love. Then a picture comes on the video of his new hair.
”YOU HAVE THE BEST HAIR IN SCHOOL, ONE GIRLS LOVE!”
”WITH YOUR NICER HAIR, AND YOUR CHAD BOY LOOKS, EVERY GIRL WILL FALL FOR YOU!”
The video changes to another picture of him with different hair, it’s dark brown, the perfect colour to make him look good. the video also says...
”YOUR NEW HAIR COLOR MAKES YOU LOOK GREAT”
The video shows more pictures of Johnny/Josh, in different clothes, different colours, and the video gets faster as it keeps spinning. Suddenly his new friends names, Jake, Brady, Austin, and Mason, pop up on the screen.
”YOUR NEW FRIENDS ARE AWESOME.”
”THEY ARE POPULAR, AWESOME, AND COOL!”
”THEY WILL HELP YOU BECOME EVEN MORE AWESOME!”
The video then shows videos of him and his new bully friends at football events, parties, and social events with girls around them.
”EVERY GIRL WANTS A BOYFRIEND LIKE THEM!”
”THOSE GUYS ARE THE ONES WHO ALWAYS GET ATTENTION!”
”YOU NOW LOOK LIKE THEM!”
The video then shows all the things he can do now.
”YOU WILL WEAR YOUR FOOTBALL JERSEY!”
”YOU WILL HAVE A SUPER HOT GIRLFRIEND!”
”YOU WILL BE A FOOTBALL STAR!”
”EVERY GIRL WILL WANT YOU!”
The video then says, one simple thing.
”YOU’RE PERFECT.”
And the video ends!
*THE NEXT DAY*
It’s a normal morning at school, and Josh is at his locker getting ready for his first period when he hears something from behind him.
”Hey bro!” says the person being Josh
"Yo brooo!" Josh replies.
He turns around to see Mason, his new football buddy. He stands at 6’2, super muscular, super good looking, and very cocky. Josh was now 6'1, lean and toned with big pecs, very good looking, and very cocky just like Mason.
”Yo wassup bro?” Asks Mason.
"Not much dude. You?" Josh replies.
Mason leans on the locker next to his as he gives him a smirk, his muscular body facing Josh now. 
”Just getting my stuff for soccer. You goin’ to the homecoming dance bro?” He asks.
"Yea dude, I should probably get my soccer stuff too. And yea, course I'm goin' to prom dude! Goin' with Cassie!" Josh replies.
”Oh yeah, you’re gettin’ with that Latina girl, lucky man. I'm goin' with Brittany, Austin's goin' with Valentina, Carter's goin' with Stacy, Jake's goin' with Dana, and Brady's goin' with Emmy!” Mason says.
Josh and Mason grab their stuff and go to soccer field where Jake, Carter, Brady, and Austin were already there. Josh saw Cassie and all their dates in their tight cheer uniforms.
This was Johnny's new life as Josh. And it would be forever!
Tumblr media
676 notes · View notes
burningembers91 · 1 month ago
Text
The Beauty and her Beast - Kim Do-Hyun x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Follow up piece to:
The Choices We Make
Synopsis: Kim Do-Hyun’s feelings for you are growing. And when a group of men threaten you, he steps in. But his feelings for you risk him showing a side of himself he wants to keep hidden.
A/N: thank you for all the love on the first part! I deffo pictured him as a Jack Reacher type in this fic
Tumblr media
You hadn’t seen Kim Do-Hyun for a few weeks. You spent every night watching the door, hoping you’d see him walk in, but he never materialised. You were finding it near impossible to keep him from your mind these days, his face and body replaying in your mind when you laid down to sleep. You were desperate to know more about him, to find out who the man was beneath the chiselled features and stoic personality. He set your pulse racing every time you were around him; the man made you nervous, but in the best way possible. You wished you were the kind of girl who could confidently ask a man out; if you were, you’d have asked Do-Hyun out months ago. But you could barely bring yourself to ask for help when the self-checkout at the grocery store packed up, let alone ask out a man who way out of your league. He told he worked in private security, taking different jobs that sent him jet-setting around the world. You wished you could go with him, flying to far off lands. You wished you had the confidence to tell him how he never left your mind, how he drove you crazy with desire.
You’d watch him on the nights he came to eat at the restaurant, his tall frame hunched over the table. He never spoke to anyone else, only you, and it made you feel special somehow. Your mum had warned about men like him, the brooding type who always seemed like they had a secret to hide. 
“It’ll never end well,” she’d tell you time and time again. “Best stick with someone reliable.”
But reliable was boring, and you were sick of sticking to the rules.
Do-Hyun had been in Saudi Arabia for the last three weeks, carrying out a job for some rich client who never revealed his identity. He found himself itching to get back to the city, impatient to see you again. He was always afraid he’d come back to find out you’d gone, that perhaps you’d finally gone travelling, or found a better paying job. He was finding it harder to keep you from his mind, and on his first night back in the city he was craving intimacy. He wished he could go to you, wished he could seek you out, but you were too innocent for him, too pure and goodhearted. He ended up bringing home a woman he met at the bar, a woman whose face he couldn’t remember. He fucked her hard and fast, picturing you the entire time. When he came, he groaned your name, so lost in his fantasy. The woman ended up leaving after delivering a swift slap to his face. He’d deserved it, but it didn’t make him feel guilty. He was hooked on you.
The next night, he made his way to your place of work. He had tried to convince himself that he’d stay away, that he’d try to avoid the beautiful waitress with the soft eyes and perfect curves. He was only tempting fate, torturing himself by looking at what he couldn’t touch. But his feet seemed to automatically guide him to you, and he was powerless to resist.
Your smile was so bright when you saw him walk through the doors, and you bounded over to him like a loyal golden retriever. 
“Long time no see,” you smiled, slightly breathless. Do-Hyun had that affect on you; he always seemed to be able to take your breath away. 
“How have you been?” he asked, taking a seat at his normal table. It wasn’t too busy tonight, and he hoped he’d have a chance to catch up with you. the last few weeks had been so empty without you. 
“Same old,” you sighed, handing him his usual order of Cass beer. “How about you? Where have you been?”
“Saudi Arabia,” he smiled. He told you all about his time there, but had to embellish most of it. He didn’t tell you he’d been sent there to take the life of seven men, men who all had families. He made up some bullshit about riding quad bikes through the desert and feeding camels. He had been to the desert, but he’d spent the entire time caked in blood and sweat.
“I’m so jealous,” you sighed. “I’d give anything to pack up and just go.”
“Well, when you plan your first trip let me know,” Do-Hyun laughed, “I’ll go with you.”
He didn’t know why he’d said that, and he regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth. He couldn’t go with you, couldn’t live a life with you no matter how desperate he was to have you. He was a monster, a murderer. You didn’t deserve someone like that; no one did.
Do-Hyun sat and ate his food as you worked, the two of you occasionally making eye contact. He could feel his desire for you burning in the pit of his stomach, the outline of your body in your black skirt and t-shirt driving him crazy. These three weeks away from you had only served to fuel his fantasies of you, his sleepless nights spent dreaming of a life with you.
It was late when a group of men walked in, sauntering up to the bar to demand a table. Do-Hyun had been waiting for you to finish your shift, nursing his third beer while he read a book. As soon as they set foot in the restaurant, every hair on the back of his neck stood up. He was good at recognising trouble, and these men seemed to be the very definition of bad news. 
“We’re about to close I’m afraid,” you said, as their demands for a table only grew louder. Do-Hyun watched you, saw the colour drain from your face. His hands gripped the table, his jaw clenching as he listened to the men speak to you like you were nothing more than shit on the underside of their shoe. He had to be careful though, had to control his temper. One wrong move and he could show you a side of him he never wanted you to see.
The men were relentless, calling you every name under the sun. Do-Hyun wondered if you’d give them a piece of your mind, but you just shook like a timid little lamb on her way to the slaughter.
“I’m sorry,” you choked, “the kitchen has just closed. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Then tell them to fucking open it back up,” one of the men snarled, as he leaned across the bar, grabbing you by the scruff of your t-shirt. You yelped as he yanked you forward, your hip bones hitting the sharp edge of the oak bar. He was hurting you, his rancid breath stinging your eyes as he laughed in your face. He was clearly enjoying this, the fear in your eyes only serving to arouse him.
Do-Hyun was on his feet before he could stop himself. He didn’t give the man a chance to back off before he grabbed him by the back of his shirt, lifting him clean off his feet with one hand. With a force that knocked the wind clean out of your assailant, Do-Hyun slammed him to the ground with a sickening thud. He heard you scream, heard the sound of the man’s companions round on him like hungry hyenas. One by one they came for him, but they were no match for Do-Hyun. You heard bones snap as his fists reigned down punches on the men who tried to hurt you, saw the blood spurt from their noses as fists met cartilage. The entire fight was over in less than a minute, the men who’d tried to intimate you lying in a crumpled heap on the floor
“Are you ok?” Do-Hyun stepped over them like they were yesterday’s trash, coming round your side of the bar to check you over. 
“I’m ok,” you insisted, but your hips burned from impact on the bar, your t-shirt torn from the force with which you’d been pulled forward. “Who the hell are you?” you asked him, surveying the broken men on the floor. You’d never seen anything like it before; he’d taken five men out like they were nothing more than irritating mosquitoes.
“Private security,” he lied, “are you sure you’re ok? You’re shaking.”
He was right; your hands shook so badly you could barely pour yourself a glass of water. 
“Let me,” he smiled, guiding you to a chair as he poured you a glass of water, followed by a strong vodka and coke. You watched as the men picked themselves up, hurrying out of the restaurant with their tails between their legs. You tried to regain your composure, tried to slow your racing heart. Every ounce of sense told you that you should be sacred of this man, but your infatuation with him was only growing. He’d been so quick to defend you, to step in and take out the men who had tried to harm you. You could barely get a text back from the guys you dated, but this virtual stranger had reigned punches down on men who’d had the audacity to scare you.
“Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked you, watching you drain the glass of vodka in record time. Your hands were still shaking, your mascara smudged down your delicate face. He knew he shouldn’t be getting this close to you, not when he’d lashed out so violently in front of you. He could have ordered you a taxi, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say goodbye to you just yet.
“Yes please,” you whispered, wondering just who the hell this man standing before you really was.
You walked home in silence, still too stunned from the nights events to talk much. His tall frame towered over you; his jacket wrapped round you for warmth. His cologne clung to your senses as you walked, the heady scent of musk and amber drawing you in. You wanted to reach out for his hand, to kiss him, to invite him up to your apartment. But only confident girls did things like that, and you were anything but. 
“Thank you again,” you said, as you arrived outside your front door. 
“It’s nothing,” Do-Hyun smiled, taking back the jacket you offered him. 
“Will you be in tomorrow?” you asked. The thought of having to go back in without his protection was a daunting prospect. 
“I will,” he smiled. He was only in Seoul for another two days and then he was off to Nigeria for God only knew how long. It broke his heart to leave you, even more so knowing there was nothing stopping other men from terrorising you. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You wanted to stand on your tiptoes and kiss him goodnight, but instead you just smiled and waved.
Do-Hyun could smell your perfume on his jacket as he walked home, the vanilla scent only serving to fuel his fantasies of you. That night he lay with his jacket on his pillow, breathing you in as he thought of you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at your door tonight. He’d wanted to carry you upstairs, lay you down on the bed and show you how a man should treat you. He wanted to kiss every inch of your body, wanted to make you tremble with pleasure as he fucked you. He wanted to feel you cling to his broad frame, hear you moan his name as he came inside you. He pleasured himself to thoughts of you, so lost in his fantasies that he lay awake until the sun was high in the sky.
He had stop kidding himself, had to stop dreaming of a life with you that he could never have. He was dangerous, a murderer who took lives for his own gain. He’d seen the fear in your eyes as he attacked those men, and that had been nothing more than a warning to the assholes that thought they could intimidate you. He’d removed body parts from men, had carried out the most despicable acts of torture while they begged for mercy, and then eaten lunch straight after. He was a poor excuse for a human, the lowest of the low. He had to try and quit you, had to try and move on before he fell in too deep.
The two of you couldn’t be together. Not when you were pure beauty, and he was nothing but a beast.
198 notes · View notes
azsazz · 5 months ago
Text
Over Ice (Part 3)
Hockey!Rhysand x Reader
Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 3147
(Part 1) (Part 2)
_________________________________________
Rhysand’s face hurts.
His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.
It’s cold, crisp, and free, so it’s the best beer he’s had all night.
Hell, his cheek is bruised too. It’s not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yet—curtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.
The only thing that isn’t bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguin’s center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.
Somewhere in the Hockey House—aptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsman—you and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivals—the Foxes—wear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.
It's a move he’s regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Bat’s big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another school’s team under their roof.
Az takes his superstitions seriously.
“Rhys, dude.” Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. It’s the only thing Rhysand doesn’t like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he can’t afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen if he’s in the living room or vice versa.
He can’t see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident™ that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophy—announcing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more fun—he still doesn’t trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.
Speaking of stupid…Cassian slides to a halt beside him. He’s so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhys’ surprise, others join in, like it’s some kind of victory cry and not one that says ‘I just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.’
Rhysand is in no mood to help.
“What’s up, Cass?” Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadn’t realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.
Cassian’s face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times he’s broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and he’d be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadn’t just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, it’s tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.
Cassian’s hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.
Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, he’s going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.
“Have you found your nurse yet?” Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.
“My what?” Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isn’t each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy that’s sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.
It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.
“Your nurse, dude,” Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. “You know, cause you’re all injured.” He waves flippantly towards Rhysand’s wounds.
“I don’t need a nurse,” Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. “I didn’t get that hurt.” Plus, he’s already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.
He busies himself with the beer opener that’s stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassian’s leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.
“No, I mean like a lady nurse.” Cassian waggles his brows. “Someone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a hand—”
And, well, that might just help his mood.
“Hey.” Azriel breezes into the kitchen like he’s still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because he’s never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. “Heads up.”
The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because they’re used to it, but really, Rhys doesn’t have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.
The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.
“Rhys!” A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.
He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?
He doesn’t see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like it’s been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.
The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.
It’s absolutely stunning.
Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because he’s still trying to blink Mor’s hair from his eyes and you because you’re entranced by the interior design of the home. There’s no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. It’s a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you haven’t seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floor—you checked.
Because you were using the restroom of course, you weren’t looking for that specific reason.
“Hey, Mor,” Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesn’t go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. “What are you doing here?”
Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.
The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.
The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldn’t be. And just how you’re praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.
It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldn’t be as hot as he is, either.
You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you don’t look constipated while doing so.
Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.
Oh, he does.
“We came to see your game tonight,” she says, as if it isn’t obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inch—all four of them—of the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, you’re just now realizing.
Heat floods your cheeks but you’re unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.
“This is (Y/N),” Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.
You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to first—
The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. You’re too stunned to speak, even when you’re planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.
Rhysand Cunningham.
Jesus, you’re really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. It’s creepy.
“Easy now,” Rhys says, making sure you’re steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.
As soon as your eyes lock, it’s like magic.
There’s no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure you’re not hurt.
Rhys’ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.
You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhys’ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though it’s stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to “be fucking careful.”
“I, uh,” you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, he’s leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans he’s wearing. It’s perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semi— “I need to use the bathroom.”
You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like it’s your ass that’s just been bitten into.
Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.
He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.
“Hey, where did your friend go?” Rhys asks Mor who’s chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.
“Roommate,” Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.
“Okay…where did your roommate go?” He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. He’d gotten his look at you alright, but he’s suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.
“To the bathroom,” she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesn’t reach for anything. “Why?”
Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere private—
“I didn’t really get to introduce myself.” Is what he goes with.
Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. “She’s off limits.”
“Then why did you bring her here?” Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.
“Because we wanted to see your game,” Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.
If you wanted to see my game, you shouldn’t have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.
“Well, thanks for coming, cuz,” he offers, because there’s no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.
He’d rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.
Rhys swiftly changes the subject. “Hope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.”
Mor’s tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.”
It’s at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. You’re caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just who’s putting that look on your face.
Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.
If she’s off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.
And that’s exactly what they are, too, players. Mor’s right, he can’t end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when you’re so close to his cousin. She’d be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. He’d kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.
Rhys doesn’t talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesn’t think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.
“What do we have here?” he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.
It’s James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. You’d recognized him, but didn’t know he played for the Velaris hockey team. He’s a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.
“Oh, hey, Cap,” James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, it’s the one Rhys gets before he’s about to lose his mind on the ice. “I was just talking to (Y/N) about—”
“About nothing,” Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?
“James, wait,” you call, but it’s too late, he’s already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you don’t have supervision to see through them.
Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesn’t look good on him. And neither does that split lip.
You can’t believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.
“That!” You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isn’t facing you, which only stokes your anger further. “I was talking to him!”
“Yeah,” he rounds on his feet so fast you don’t even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.
This time, you don’t tumble into a pile of limbs.
You blink, dumbfounded.
“And I’d prefer it if you don’t,” Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.
“Yeah,” you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt you’re wearing ride up more, and both Rhys’ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, “Unlikely.”
_________________________________________
Over Ice Taglist:
@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd
337 notes · View notes
solbaby7 · 9 months ago
Text
I Dare You
pairing: cassian x reader
Tumblr media
warnings:prolly some typos, kinda douchebag!cass but very minimal, sexual tension, swearing, mentions of drinking, (literally have any of you ever gone bull riding before? bc that shit is not for the weak)
summary: Cassian doesn’t think you’re capable of letting your hair down to have some fun. I dare you to prove him wrong.
Someone must’ve laced your drink.
They had to have.
It was the only logical explanation for the unusual feelings beginning to churn knots in your gut the longer you took in the handsome planes of Cassian’s face.
Usually, it was easier to overlook when you were sober, too off-put by his demeaning comments and endless sexual innuendos to truly focus on the sharp cut of his jaw or the stubble that resided there. The tempting plush of his bottom lip captures your focus, its glistening from the cheap beer overflowing his cup and the foreign thought of what they would felt like pressed against your own evades your senses.
You blame it on the ambiance.
This place was no Rita’s, not nearly as cozy or tucked away but something about the clubs hypnotic hues of rich purples and soft blues casting over Cassian’s cheeks had your head slowly tilting to the side in silent appreciation.
Had he always had that dimple when he smiled?
“Truth or dare?” Mor yells over the thumping music, effectively breaking you free from your trance and stealing your attention. A bright grin is plastered across her face induced by the empty shot glasses on the table before her.
Your head shakes on instinct, not nearly as prone to letting loose as the rest of the Inner Circle. The outfit alone was far enough out of your comfort zone as is, allowing Mor and Feyre to use you like a baby doll; curling your hair and applying makeup over excited giggles and shared bottles of bubbly. The borrowed fabric sticks to you like second skin, its halter neckline more comfortable than you’d care to admit and the cool breeze of passerby’s on your exposed back is welcome. The tight bodice blends seamlessly into the flowy skirt that tickles the middle of your thighs, showing off more leg than you usually cared to bare but it had looked too nice against your figure to complain. “I don’t really—“
“Don’t even bother,” Cassian interjects, a beer clutched in one hand while the other rested lazily on the back of the booth. “She always says no.”
“That’s not true.”
It was.
You blamed it on their High Lord’s inability to complete his paperwork and file them properly afterwards. When you’d first arrived, there had been centuries worth of paperwork strewn about his storage room in no true order with the subjects varying from treaties and common laws on trade routes to pages worth of detailed documentation dividing up ownership of land. Blueprints for potential and current properties with box after box of receipts kept to keep track of the billing it took to run such a place—much less a whole city.
Simply put, you’d been stuck in work-mode; refusing casual outings and generous offerings of chilled bottles shared over dinner for months until you’d finally made a dent sizable enough to satisfy you. There’s no point in bothering to explain any of that to Cassian though, biting your words over the rim of your glass and the burn on your tongue is soothed by the sweet mixer. “Oh really?” He goads, a cocky glint in golden eyes as he leans forward, shoulders straining in the dark cotton of his shirt . “Answer her then, truth or dare?”
There’s a long pause—one long enough for Rhysand to clear his throat, fully prepared to diffuse the situation but your voice cuts through before he can. “Dare.” It’s spoken stronger than you feel and you muster up the courage to meet his eye as if you hadn’t just been gobbling up the miles of endless muscle packed onto his body.
“I dare you to let loose for once in your boring little life.” Feyre scoffs her disapproval at his wording, a hand smacking at Cassian’s arm but he doesn’t react as if he can even feel it. He’s utterly fixated on you, body language lax and still somehow emitting such a domineering presence it makes your feet shift in high heels. “Unless you’re too prude to even let your hair down?”
A brow arches and you ignore the burn creeping up your neck at the looks your friends are sharing, clearly having a mental conversation on who was going to have to intervene this time. Saving them the trouble, you comply. “Fine.” You’re too occupied in chugging the remnants of your drink to notice the surprised expression crossing the General’s face. He doesn’t miss you though, witnessing a mischievous darkness clouding your eye before you rise from the booth and squeeze through the endless sea of bodies.
“I don’t understand your problem with her,” Mor grumbles with distaste, a hand outstretching for the latest round of drinks being provided by the waiter. “She’s nice.”
“She’s boring,” Cassian promptly retorts, eyes sifting over the crowd in search for a flash of your dusky red dress but it’s nowhere to be found. His spine straightens ever so slightly, the grip on his glass tightening in his silent surveillance for you. “When you said you were hiring a female who’d be around so often that she’d be living with us, I hoped she’d be more…eventful.”
“Is that truly your reasoning, brother?” Rhys drawls out playfully, tugging his mate in closer to his side. A glass of whiskey is in his free hand, tilting the bottom of it tauntingly in Cassian’s direction as he pretends to ponder. “Or maybe it’s because you keep antagonizing her in hopes that she’ll notice you and yet she barely gives you anything back in return? Her passiveness must eat you up at night.”
It earns the High Lord a few laughs and even Azriel can’t hide the amused upturn of his mouth at Cassian’s expense but the Lord of Bloodshed can’t even begin to be bothered with that.
Not when his sights finally land on that sinful shade of red gripping at the curves contained within them. Cassian can’t even hear his family anymore, eardrums tuning out everything that wasn’t you as he watches the way you lean in towards one of the nicely dressed workers with a smile. The exchange is quick but Cassian doesn’t miss a thing, noting the challenging quirk of the males brow and he leads you behind a thick curtain that sectioned off a portion of the bar he hadn’t even noticed until now.
Words can’t describe the way losing his visual on you makes his skin itch, wings twitching with his irritation and the tense line of his shoulders doesn’t release for even a second. A plethora of thoughts plague Cassian’s mind. Surely you hadn’t taken his jest as an invitation to go be with some other male? Even if it would’ve been well within your right it was the furthest from his intentions.
“Run out of witty remarks?” Rhysand prods further, voice full of humor but there’s a hint of serious questioning lingering in his eye. “Or have I stunned you to complete silence?”
Feyre catches on quicker than her counterpart, following Cassian’s line of sight, watching as the same curtains you’d disappeared behind starts beginning to rise, a thundering chime ringing through the bar. “I don’t think it’s you who has him speechless.”
The others follow her gaze and quiet fascination sets root when more space is revealed. Situated right in the middle of the newly revealed stage is what seems to be the magical apparition of a fake bull, complete with horns and a nose that huffed out smoke. It’s one hell of a spectacle that has the inebriated crowd cheering with joy at the promise of such extravagant entertainment. “Trouble is in the house tonight. Let’s welcome her warmly.” The male announces, guiding you into the light and spinning you around for all to take in.
Cassian’s teeth grit together, disturbingly aware of every eye and muttered comment directed your way and his fingers twitch for the familiar weight of his sword. “No way...” He whispers in complete disbelief as you approach the bull with a practiced ease, hoisting yourself on its back with the swipe of your leg.
The motion is fluid, thighs shifting to get situated and the new position hikes up the hem of your dress. All the bare skin that is revealed makes his mouth water, elbows leaning against the table to brace himself.
Your gaze finds Cassian’s easily in the crowd, a devious smirk forms in the corner of your mouth and the wink you send his way has his cock twitching to life in his breeches.
Music flows through the space—a sensual tempo with a bass so deep it rattles the very blood in your body. There’s no explaining why you find such a comfort in it but you submit to the numbness it provides anyway, relishing in the absence of thought as you melt into the beat.
One hand latches securely around the saddle and the well-dressed employee begins his skilled control of the bull. It’s a slow rock, movements mechanical and jerky but you make it look graceful—hips shifting back and forth over and over as the speed increases. You barely look up, too caught up in synchronizing your body with the music, spurred on by the generous cheers from the other drunken fae with energy to burn and coins to spend.
Faster and faster the bull rocks, spinning you from left to right but your remain saddled in place, core strong and thighs braced for the chaotic jostling. Haughty whistles cut through the crowd when the bull abruptly tips forward, shifting the fabrics of your dress until you were face down, ass up and flashing the lacy boy shorts you had on underneath. “Come on,” You whine prettily to the male in control of the mechanism, hair spilling to one side of your face and a pretty blush fans across your cheeks at the salacious exposure. “That all you got?”
“Hold on tight.”
You’re grateful for obtaining the good sense it takes to heed the warning because in an instant the bull is jerking back to life, spinning and rocking in an attempt to shake you off. Jubilant laughter pelts free, hair blowing in the wind and dress flashing more of the soft skin that Cassian was just dying to get his fill of.
He’s been bested—that much the Commander can admit but it doesn’t feel like a loss when you feed his filthy fantasies without even trying. The roll of your waist will surely plague his dreams but the effortlessly seductive glint in your eye will haunt him to his dying breath.
It doesn’t dissipate. Not even when you finally tap out, easing yourself down on shaky legs and shuffle back to the shared booth with a breathy huff.
A peachy sheen has overtaken your cheeks at the bewildered stares your friends give you for your performance but the mess of your curls splaying around your shoulders has Cassian’s heart racing when imagining the others ways he could put you in such a state.
The others watch in complete silence as you steal the beer right from Cassian’s hands, cool condensation dripping down your fingers but you pay it no mind. “It seems that I am plenty of fun to be around,” He watches the slow roll of your throat as you swallow, unable to look away. “But that’s usually reserved for after hours.”
Cassian’s gaze darkens under the implication, lids heavy with desire. “Noted.”
328 notes · View notes
moodymelanist · 20 days ago
Text
Freak Like Me Chapter Three
Tumblr media
happy day 5 of @sjmromanceweek everyone. it's time for our favorite trope: making Cassian beg.
Summary: Nesta works Cassian over.
Read on AO3 here!
✵✵✵✵✵✵ Cassian
Cassian was in a little bit of a daze on his way home, somehow managing to drive back to Columbia Heights and make it into his apartment safely. He wasn’t so scatterbrained that he was going to forget to text Nesta back, though, so once he’d locked the door behind him he pulled out his phone and checked in like she’d asked.
Cassian Hernández, 8:34 PM
Just got home
Nesta Archeron, 8:37 PM
Good. I’ll call you on Wednesday?
Cassian Hernández, 8:38 PM
ok :)
Nesta Archeron, 8:40 PM
Cute. Have a good night.
Cassian Hernández, 8:40 PM
You too
Cassian smiled when Nesta liked his message, but once he realized their conversation was over, he was at a bit of a loss for what to do for the rest of the night. Jacking off again was pretty much a given, but that wouldn’t kill all his time for the rest of the night.
In the end, he ended up jacking off twice, all the possibilities of what Nesta would do to him simply too much for him to handle. It was worth having to remake his bed before he went to sleep for the night.
✵✵✵✵✵✵
After work on Tuesday, Cassian found himself at yet another after work happy hour. Nesta wasn’t here to keep him company, but he figured catching up with some of his best friends was a pretty good consolation prize.
“Hey Cass,” Rhys said once Cassian was close enough, standing up from the booth to grab Cassian’s hand and give him a one-armed hug. He had on a crisp white button-up and a pair of perfectly tailored navy slacks as though he’d come right from Deloitte’s office; knowing him, he probably had. “Been a minute.”
“Good to see you too, Rhys,” Cassian said back with a roll of his eyes. He returned Rhys’ hug briefly before turning to clap Azriel on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Hey, Az.”
“Hey,” Azriel replied, raising his beer in greeting. He shifted to make room so Cassian could sit next to him and Cassian slid in gratefully. “How’s it going?”
Their friend group tried to meet up once a month when they could, but Amren was away on a work trip and Mor was away for fun, so that left the three of them. Their plans were never as elaborate as Mor or Amren’s so they usually settled with their usual happy hour and pool night at their favorite bar. 
Once they got some food in their stomachs, they paid their server, grabbed their drinks, and migrated over to the pool table in the back room. Someone had just finished a game, so they took a few minutes to rerack all the pool balls and organize them for a game of three before they got started.
“So,” Cassian began once he’d taken his shot. “What’s new?”
Azriel took his shot next before he answered. “Nothing new for me.”
“How’s Eris?” Rhys asked, reaching for the chalk so he could rub some on the top of his cue stick.
“He’s good,” Azriel responded, a tiny little smile breaking through his otherwise stoic expression. He and Eris had been dating for a few months now, and clearly things were going well. “He wants to go away for Valentine’s Day weekend.”
“Perks of dating a lawyer,” Cassian told him with a grin. Eris worked in one of those fancy offices on K Street, and he briefly wondered if he and Nesta knew each other before forcing himself to focus on the conversation in front of him. “Where are you guys gonna go?”
“I don’t know,” Azriel answered, shrugging. “Probably someplace warm. We’re both tired of freezing our asses off.”
“Amen to that, Az,” Rhys chimed in. He took a sip of his beer before finally taking his shot, and then it was Cassian’s turn. “Speaking of dating… I think I met someone.”
“You think?” Cassian took his shot and then turned to look at Rhys with a teasing smirk. “What, is she imaginary? Or does she go to a different school?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rhys retorted over Cassian and Azriel’s combined laughter. “No, she’s very real. She’s an artist.”
“An artist, huh?” Azriel asked. He caught Cassian’s eye just long enough for Cassian to tell they weren’t done teasing Rhys. “Surprised that didn’t make all your gold digger alarms go off.”
“She’s not like that,” Rhys immediately defended his new crush. She must have really been something for him to defend her so fast. “She runs a nonprofit teaching art to underprivileged kids, and she freelances on the side.”
“Very noble of her,” Cassian replied, grinning, “but I’m surprised you didn’t walk into your first date with a prenup ready to be signed.”
“You know Cass, you’re talking a lot of shit for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since…” Rhys trailed off for dramatic effect, pretending to count on his fingers. “Shit, actually, I don’t even know.”
“Fuck you, I dated Dierdre last year and you know that,” Cassian fired back.
“Cass, that was 2023,” Azriel said slowly, like he was talking to a little kid. Cassian rolled his eyes at how hard Rhys was starting to laugh; he supposed it was his turn on the chopping block. “It’s 2025 now.”
“Okay, fine, whatever,” Cassian said back. “But I just went on a date a few weeks ago, thank you very much.”
“At least you’re out there, buddy,” Rhys responded, laughing as Cassian half-heartedly tried to hit him on the arm. “I’m sure your person will come!”
Cassian rolled his eyes, doing his best to seem chill even though internally he was anything but chill thinking about the truth of his situation. He wasn’t about to get into the specifics of his arrangement with Nesta and how she was essentially leading him around by the dick when she wasn’t his girlfriend; his friends weren’t assholes, but he wasn’t about to get into his deepest, darkest desires in a bar in Adams Morgan. Rhys and Azriel could enjoy their teasing, and Cassian would have to just suck it up. “We can’t all be as lucky as you, Rhysie.”
✵✵✵✵✵✵
Teasing aside, it was good to catch up with Rhys and Az, and it took his mind off waiting around for Nesta to finally reach out. He made it home in one piece and managed not to rub one out for the first night in at least a week, which was a perverse accomplishment he’d keep to himself, thanks.
When the next morning finally rolled around, Cassian felt like a kid who knew his mom had gotten him something good for Christmas but he wasn’t exactly sure what was inside the wrapping paper. Nesta hadn’t specified what time she would call him, so he was just riding the high of knowing he’d talk to her at some point today rather than freaking out. 
He assumed she’d call him after work, and his intuition turned out to be correct; she called him while he was cooking dinner and he was more than happy to put down his wooden spoon to pick up his phone instead.
“Hello?” Cassian said, already smiling. He knew he should probably pull it together when it came to Nesta, but he really didn’t want to.
“Hi,” Nesta said back. She sounded like she was laying on something soft — he could hear her moving some fabric around, and he thought it was maybe her comforter or a nice, soft blanket. He liked the thought of her all wrapped up and cozy. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
“No, I’m just cooking some dinner,” he told her. He eyed the flame on his stove and turned it down just a little bit. “How are you?”
“Hungrier, now that I’m talking to you,” she responded dryly, pulling a laugh out of him without even trying. “What’s for dinner?”
“One of those one pot chicken and rice recipes I saw online,” he answered. He gave the food one last stir before stepping back to sit at his kitchen island. “It’s my first time making it, so I hope it turns out okay.”
Cassian could tell Nesta was rolling her eyes at his attempt at being modest. “Save it, Bobby Flay. You know I don’t like you selling yourself short.”
“Okay, okay, I know my way around the kitchen,” he admitted. He was the unofficial chef of his friend group, but he wasn’t about to give her more fuel for the fire right now. “Just say the word and I’ll cook for you anytime, sweetheart.”
“Good to know,” she replied. “But speaking of saying the word…”
He laughed again. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you wanted to talk about.”
“Gold star for you, Cassian,” Nesta responded, just on the edge of being patronizing. “What time are you coming over on Friday?”
“Maybe around 6:30 or 7?” Cassian offered. His office closed an hour earlier on Fridays, but he didn’t want to even think about risking being late considering DC traffic. “If that works for you?”
“Mhmmm… let’s do 7,” she told him. He could hear her typing, and he wondered if she was updating the calendar invite he was very sure she kept. “Wear something comfortable.”
“Okay,” he agreed easily, wondering now how much time she’d scheduled for him. An hour? Two? Longer? He supposed he’d finally find out in two days. “Anything else?”
“Greedy,” she said without much heat.
“You know I can’t help it,” he said back. It was maybe a little too honest, but she’d had his number within the span of drinks and an appetizer, so he’d left his shame behind him that same night.
“Fine. Don’t touch your dick more than necessary until I see you,” she told him casually. “I have plans for it.”
“Okay,” he breathed, his cock twitching in his pants despite his best efforts to stay calm. I should’ve jerked off again while I had the chance, he thought, but who was he kidding? It was more than worth giving up masturbating if it meant she’d lead him around by the dick, and wow, that was a fun thought. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”
“There’s a good boy,” she practically purred into the phone. “I’ll see you on Friday. Have a good night.”
Nesta hung up without waiting for his response. Cassian didn’t know how long he sat there thinking about Nesta calling him a good boy like that, but it was long enough that he jumped when the timer on his phone went off reminding him to check on his dinner.
His one pot meal came out a little crispier than he’d planned, but it was a worthy sacrifice. 
✵✵✵✵✵✵
Thursday passed in what felt like a blur, and once Cassian walked out of the office on Friday, he could hardly stop fidgeting. He had so much nervous energy that he had to do a quick workout once he made it back to his building, running through a shorter, less intense version of his usual full-body circuit. He didn’t know exactly what Nesta had in store for him tonight, and disappointing her was not an option. 
Once he sweated it out for forty-five minutes, he felt a little bit better. He left the gym in his building and headed upstairs to his apartment, already thinking about the nice, long shower he was going to take. He didn’t want to assume anything, but it was always best to be prepared; he took some time to clean up the hair around his dick and thoroughly scrub every crack and crevice on his body in case Nesta wanted to explore. He even made sure his fingernails were carefully filed down before he moisturized his face and body, and he took a few minutes to fluff out his hair properly before heading into his closet to figure out what to wear. 
Nesta had said to wear something comfortable, so Cassian figured he couldn’t go wrong with some of his nicer athleisure — this stuff was usually too nice to wear to the gym, so at least he could finally put it to good use. He looked through his dresser drawers until he found a white shirt and navy joggers, and he pulled on some socks and matching white sneakers to go with it. He didn’t know what to expect tonight, but hopefully this would fit his needs. 
Once he was dressed, Cassian made sure to put on deodorant and a little bit of cologne so he’d smell good without being overpowering. He still had about half an hour before he could reasonably leave, and while he’d normally make himself something to eat for dinner, he was a little too jittery to try and put some real food in his stomach. Instead, he grabbed two granola bars from his stash and plopped on the couch to try and distract himself with something on TV, half-paying attention to the newest episode of Abbott Elementary while he ate his snacks. 
Eventually, the time finally came for him to make the drive over to Nesta’s place, and Cassian hopped up like he’d been stung when he saw the time. He took several deep breaths before grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet and stepping outside of his apartment, and then he was on his way. He couldn’t stop bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he maneuvered DC traffic, but he knew he’d much rather get all his anxieties out now before he came face to face with Nesta. 
Realistically, he knew he was probably going to have a good time. He was more than attracted enough to Nesta, and she’d said repeatedly that she liked him and wanted to do this. He didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, but he did know he wouldn’t have to worry about pretending to want to be in charge, so at least he had that going for him. Nesta wouldn’t laugh at him, or make fun of him, or say he was a freak for wanting what he did — at least, not in a way that they wouldn’t enjoy. 
Cassian knew it would be more than fine, but that didn’t stop him from worrying a little bit anyway. If he wanted to really enjoy himself tonight, though, he was going to have to get his shit together before he saw Nesta, so once he’d parked and was waiting for the elevator to her floor, he tried to mentally hype himself up a little bit. 
It’s gonna be fine, he tried to tell himself. She likes you. She wants to make you beg until you cry. It’s gonna be more than fine. 
It worked a little bit, but eventually the elevator dinged on the fifth floor and it was game time. Cassian walked down the hallway, and once he reached Nesta’s apartment, he wiped his hands on his pants and took one last deep breath before he gently knocked on the door.
“Hey,” Nesta said once she opened the door. She had on a white button-up shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and instead of her usual braided coronet, half of her hair was pulled back from her face. She looked so beautiful with her hair down it was a miracle he was able to focus on what she was actually saying to him, and he managed to get it together just in time to hear her add, “Glad you made it. Come in.”
“Thanks,” Cassian said back, perking up like a dog with a bone at her choice of words. Her apartment looked the same as the last time he’d been here, though this time he noticed what looked like a Kindle sitting on her coffee table right next to an almost-empty glass of water. “Is that a Kindle? What are you reading?”
“Nosy,” she replied without any heat. She locked the door behind them before giving his sneakers a pointed look, and as he removed his sneakers, she added, “Yes, it’s a Kindle. Maybe if you’re good I’ll tell you what’s in my library.”
“I can do that,” he responded, grinning. He put his sneakers on her shoe rack and shrugged out of his coat before asking, “Where do you want me?”
She eyed him for a moment before beckoning him over to the kitchen. Despite her open floor plan, he hadn’t spent much time looking over here, but he liked the ample cabinet space and large island in lieu of a proper dining room table. “Wash your hands.”
Cassian draped his coat over one of her barstools before walking over to her sink, taking a few pumps of her floral-scented soap so he could wash his hands thoroughly. Nesta passed him one of her dish towels so he could dry his hands and he turned to look at her expectantly once he was done. 
“Did you eat before you got here?” Nesta asked, her gaze turning considering. He felt like she was staring straight through him as he leaned back against her kitchen counter, the fridge a cool wall to his right. 
“I had two granola bars,” Cassian answered sheepishly. At her unimpressed look, he felt compelled to defend himself. “I know, I know. I was just, ah…a little nervous.” 
“Nervous about what?” she questioned in that direct way of hers. 
“I didn’t know what to expect,” he told her honestly. He could feel the beginnings of a blush creeping across his cheeks, but he suspected it would only be the first of many tonight so he didn’t fight it too hard. “I was thinking about a lot of. Um. Possibilities.”
“Were you now?” she responded, the hint of a smirk appearing on her full lips as she took a few steps closer to him. 
“Yeah,” he breathed. It was almost hard to focus with her standing so close and looking at him like that, but somehow he managed to add, “I don’t eat much when I get nervous.”
Nesta tsked. “Big guy like you? We can’t have that, Cassian.”
“I— I guess not,” Cassian answered, nearly swallowing his tongue when she stepped so close to him that their fronts were pressed together. All the blood in his body rushed south so quickly it was a miracle he didn’t sway on his feet, and even if he’d wanted to move, he was pressed against her countertop with nowhere to run. 
“You said you’re good in the kitchen,” she said seemingly out of nowhere. She reached up onto her toes, and he had to hold back a whimper as she rocked right against his rapidly hardening cock. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he managed to say back. He was going to spontaneously combust or something, holy shit. “I am.”
“Why don’t we put those skills to good use, hmm?” she asked. He was mostly sure it was a rhetorical question, but that didn’t stop him from nodding like he was a goddamned bobble head. “We’ll put some food in your stomach, and then…”
Cassian choked on his next breath as Nesta managed to get a hand in between their bodies, her slender hand palming his cock through his pants before rubbing up and down a few times. “Nesta…”
“…And then we’ll see about the other big guy,” she finished. She squeezed his cock before stepping to the side to open one of her cabinets and pass him a wooden cutting board. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he breathed as soon as he remembered how to form words. “Yeah. Okay.”
Cassian waited until Nesta had taken a seat at her island before he turned to open her fridge. It was decently stocked, and he pulled out a few things to try and assemble something that would pass muster. He somehow managed to make a passable charcuterie board with some meat, grapes, and cheese without losing his mind too much, despite his dick being distractingly hard and Nesta just being distracting, period. 
“Do you,” Cassian tried to say after a few minutes. Speaking coherently was harder than he’d anticipated, so he swallowed and tried again. “Do you have any crackers?”
He hadn’t made a ton of charcuterie boards in his life, but crackers tended to be on all of them. 
“No,” Nesta answered. “I hate dealing with the crumbs. Are you finished with that?”
“Yeah,” he replied, reaching out to subtly push one of the cheese cubes back into place. “I think so.”
“Looks good,” she told him. She leaned over the counter and reached over to snag the cheese cube he’d just pushed into place, keeping her eyes locked on him as she popped it into her mouth and made a satisfied little noise. “Mhmm. That’s good.”
“Thank you,” he managed to respond. His brain was bouncing between her saying something nice and the sound she’d just made like some kind of horny pinball machine, and he couldn’t pick which thing was sexier so he just gave up and decided on both. 
“You’re welcome. Now come on,” Nesta said, motioning for him to pick up the board he’d made. “We don’t have all night. Let’s go.”
Cassian dutifully picked up his board and followed Nesta down the hall and into the second door on the left, revealing the guest room she’d mentioned previously. It was half office and half guest room; there was a daybed with two bookshelves on either side on one wall, and a fancy desk and ergonomic chair on the other. He wasn’t entirely certain he’d fit laying down on that, but maybe that was the point. 
“I’ll take that,” Nesta told him once he’d looked his fill. He handed over the board and waited for her to tell him what else to do. “Shut the door.”
“Okay,” Cassian agreed. While she moved toward the bed, he turned and gently shut the door behind them; he didn’t bother to lock it considering they were the only ones here. 
When he turned back around, Nesta was sitting on the edge of the bed with the board directly to her left. He wanted to go to her immediately, but he wanted to be good even more, so he just stood there and let her look him over. 
“Come over here and sit,” she said after a minute or two. He crossed the room in a few long strides and was about to climb on the daybed when she tsked, and he froze the second his knee touched the comforter. “No. On the ground.”
Cassian slowly backed away from the bed and sank to the ground. Nesta handed him a pillow from off the bed and he took it, shoving it under his knees as he got as close to her legs as he dared. 
Turned out, he was feeling pretty daring. His face was basically pressing against her denim-covered thigh, and he couldn’t drag up an ounce of shame about it. She didn’t seem to mind, though, so he wouldn’t stress out about it. 
“Comfortable?” she asked once he’d stopped fidgeting. 
“Yes,” he answered, turning his face up so he could make proper eye contact. 
Cassian was by no means a small man, but the way Nesta was looking down at him made him feel like he was two feet tall in the best way possible. Looking at her was like staring directly into the sun, but he didn’t dare avert his gaze with how intensely she was staring at him. 
“You doing okay?” she questioned more pointedly. 
“Yeah,” he breathed. Then his brain caught up a little, and he realized she was trying to check in with him properly. “I’m good. I mean, I’m green.”
“Smart boy,” she replied, reaching down to run her hand over his hair. “Now open up.”
Cassian’s lips parted automatically just in time for Nesta to feed him a grape. It was perfectly firm and sweet, and she watched him chew on it for a few seconds before she said anything. 
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Nesta said, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 
Cassian’s swallow was so loud there was no way she didn’t hear it. “Thank you.”
“Was that so hard?” she told him. He shook his head no and she added, “Exactly. Don’t make me tell you again.”
He was a little curious what she would do to him if she had to tell him again, but the part of him that was so desperate to be good absolutely refused to even entertain the idea. So he just nodded and waited patiently for her to feed him the next bite of food, which turned out to be a little cube of cheddar.
“Thank you,” he murmured once he was finished chewing and swallowing. 
Cassian kneeled there and let Nesta feed him until he lost track of time. He could’ve been there for twenty minutes or twenty hours; he didn’t know, and he certainly wasn’t complaining. His focus had narrowed to the feel of her fingers pressing various food between his lips, to the satisfied expression in her eyes every time he bit down, to the bite of his knees digging into the floor despite the pillow there. 
She had him hook, line, and fucking sinker. He was more than happy about that.
“Last one,” Nesta eventually murmured. She guided what was apparently the last grape between his lips and her fingers lingered for a moment, somehow making his head spin even more than it already was. 
“Thank you,” Cassian whispered once he was finished. He didn’t know how it was possible to be this turned on just by her hand-feeding him, but holy shit was this in the top five hottest things that had ever happened to him.
Who was he kidding — this was definitely the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. She hadn’t even touched his dick properly yet, and he was two seconds away from panting like a dog and begging her to. He didn’t know how he was going to keep it together for whatever else she had in store for him, but Jesus Christ he was going to have to. 
“Why don’t you come up here and sit next to me,” Nesta said, stroking his hair again before she let go of him. “Go slow. I don’t need you falling all over yourself even more than you already are.”
Cassian’s cheeks were on fire as he slowly got to his feet, shaking out his legs a little bit after he’d been kneeling all that time. He had to hold back a sigh of relief as the blood came back to his legs, but judging by the amused look in Nesta’s eye, he could’ve just let the sound out. Something to file away for later, he told himself. 
“Take off your shirt and pants,” she told him after a few seconds. “And fold your clothes, for fuck’s sake. I’m sure your mother didn’t raise you to be a slob.”
“Okay,” he agreed, trying really hard not to cross his wires between his mommy issues and Nesta and failing miserably. It wasn’t really working, but he had other things to worry about right now, so he carefully took off his clothes and folded them like she’d told him to. “Where should I…?”
“The chair’s fine,” she answered. She sat back on her hands and watched him do as she asked, and he could feel her eyes lingering on him as he turned to neatly place his clothes on her chair. “Stand there for a second?”
Cassian turned to face her and did his best not to fidget as Nesta looked her fill, those gray-blue eyes sweeping over every inch of him with startling intensity. He could feel her gaze on him like a weight, as if she were touching him with those perfectly manicured fingers instead of merely looking him over, and when her eyes lingered on his hard cock tenting his underwear for several long moments, he had to start thinking about the Ravens and the Commanders losing their respective games to stop himself from coming on the spot.
“I see all that gym time is paying off,” Nesta told him after what felt like an eternity. He thought it was a compliment, but the slightly patronizing edge to her words had another blush creeping across his face. “Lose the underwear.”
Cassian’s hands shook a little as he followed Nesta’s command, and he folded his black briefs before putting them on top of the rest of his clothes. He was so turned on he hoped she wouldn’t keep him standing there much longer; his cock was leaking so much he might make a puddle on her nice floors, and who knew what she’d do to him then.
He kind of wanted to find out, but given the way her eyes were glued to his cock, he didn’t think he’d get a chance to, and he was one hundred percent okay with that.
“Come on,” Nesta eventually said. Her eyes flicked back up to his before she patted the space to her right a few times. “Come sit.”
Cassian took the few steps between him and Nesta and sat down on the bed next to her, trying not to hunch in on himself the way he wanted to. She was still fully clothed, so he tried to focus on that and how hot he thought it was instead of his slowly returning nerves.
Nesta eyed him up for a second before moving to grab the empty wooden board and put it on the ground. Once the bed was clear, she turned back to him and said, “Lay down for me.”
“Do you think I’m gonna fit?” Cassian asked, looking down at his long legs and back up at Nesta.
“Did I ask you if you would fit, or did I tell you to lay down?” she fired back without missing a beat. 
“Yep,” he squeaked out, already shifting so he could lie down. He’d come way too far to risk anything that would make her not want to touch his dick, so he mentally shook himself and grabbed a pillow so he could make himself more comfortable.
“Was that so hard?” she questioned once he was flat on his back. His legs were just the tiniest bit too short for the bed, so they just awkwardly hung off the edge.
“N–oh,” he replied, his voice shooting up an octave as she swung a leg over his middle and straddled him with no warning.
“What’s the matter?” she asked innocently once she was settled on his lap. She was sitting right on top of his cock, and he hissed when she reached down so she could pull it out from under her. “Don’t tell me I’m too heavy for you.”
“No, I basically bench you as a warm—fuck,” he swore right in the middle of his answer, losing his entire train of thought when she tightened her grip on him. He had to summon all of his strength not to buck his hips and risk sending her flying, and judging by the little smirk on her face, she knew that perfectly well.
“A ‘warm fuck,’” she repeated, laughing softly. He would’ve laughed with her if it weren’t for the way she still had her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around his cock. “That must be a new kind of exercise. Speaking of exercise… you don’t mind if I take you for a whirl, do you?”
“I think you can do whatever you want,” Cassian answered, a little dazed from the way she was perfectly handling his dick. 
“Gold star for you,” Nesta told him. Her grip on his cock tightened until it was just on the edge of being painful, and he couldn’t help but groan when she finally started to move, even though her pace was torturously slow.
“Is that the only thing I get?” he asked, panting just a little. 
“Do you think you deserve more than that?” she retorted. 
He nearly swallowed his tongue when she let go of his cock long enough to lick her palm and bring her hand back down. “Fuck. Uh. No?”
“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” she replied, clearly fucking with him. She picked up the pace just a little bit and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning. “Try that again.”
“Uh…” he trailed off. It was hard to think between her staring down at him like that and his cock in her hand, but he had to say something. “Whatever you think I — ah, God — deserve.”
“There you go,” Nesta said, really starting to pick up the pace now. He was leaking like a faucet, and between that and Nesta’s spit, everything was starting to feel a little too good. 
“Please,” Cassian moaned. He didn’t even know what he was begging for, but in his mind, there was nothing else to do but beg. 
“Please what?” she asked, clearly delighting in his suffering. 
“Please let me come,” he answered in a rush of words. He was torn between squeezing his eyes shut to try and hold off longer or watching her, but in the end it was impossible to really look away. She just looked way too good on top of him. 
“You know,” Nesta began, drawing it out. Cassian was holding on for dear life now, his nails digging into the mattress so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he tore through the fabric as he tried to hold off. “I technically never said you couldn’t, but… I guess you’ve earned it.”
“Really?” Cassian panted, questioning her like a dumbass. He really needed to stop doing that.
“You’re such a fucking masochist,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. She was really pumping him now, and every time she jerked her wrist upward she managed to perfectly hit a spot just under the head of his cock that was damn near making him go cross eyed from how good it felt. “Hurry up and come before I change my mind.”
“Fuck, fuck, Nesta,” he groaned, his hips bucking into her hand one last time as he finally let go. His vision went a little fuzzy around the edges as he finally came, a choked gasp escaping him as the pleasure hit him. It was overwhelmingly good, so strong that his toes curled, and Nesta wrung every last drop out of him until he turned into a whimpering mess from the overstimulation. 
Nesta thankfully took pity on him and eventually brought her hand to a stop, grabbing a towel from somewhere — under the pillow, maybe — to wipe her hand and his stomach off. “Take some deep breaths, baby. Just like that. There’s a good boy.”
Cassian took in one deep breath and then another, his heart rate eventually slowing to something approaching normal the longer he laid there. If he’d felt a little dazed the last time he saw Nesta, it was nothing compared to how he felt now; he couldn’t conjure up a single thought besides how good it felt to be touched like this, his mind buzzing pleasantly as he just focused on breathing and the feel of Nesta’s hands on him. 
“I’m going to get a washcloth and some water, okay?” she told him after a few minutes, her voice low and soothing. She shifted slowly until she was off of him entirely, and he missed her comforting weight immediately. “I’ll be back in a second. Keep breathing for me.”
Cassian barely even registered Nesta walking away, and by the time he properly realized he was laying on the bed by himself, she was already back. The washcloth was warm and her touch was gentle as she wiped him clean, and she made him sit up for a few moments so he could drink from the glass of water she’d gotten for him. “You good?”
“So good,” he answered, still a little dazed from the enormity of what had just happened. 
“Okay,” she replied with a tiny, private smile. She put the empty glass on one of the emptier shelves of the bookcase and tossed the washcloth into a tiny hamper in the corner of the room that he hadn’t noticed upon first glance. “Lay back down. I’m not done with you yet.”
Cassian did as she asked, pleasantly surprised when Nesta maneuvered them onto a cleaner, drier area of the bed and laid down with him. She gently pushed and prodded at him until he was half on top of her, his face perfectly pressed into the side of her neck, and when she started to run her fingers over his curls, he couldn’t have held his eyes open even if he’d wanted to. He made a happy little sound as her other hand drifted down to wrap around his back, her palm just cool enough to feel good against his overheated skin, and shifted his arms so they were properly cuddling. 
“You did so good for me,” Nesta murmured into his hair after a few minutes of laying there in soft silence, her voice warm. 
“Yeah?” Cassian mumbled back. He felt like he was simultaneously flying high and ready to sleep for ten hours. “I did?”
“Mhmmm,” she told him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. His skin tingled where she’d put her lips and he had to fight to hold back the full-body shiver that threatened to overtake him. “You were such a good boy. Very… eager.”
“If you say so,” he managed after a second. Trying to think straight right now was like trying to hold onto water, so he just gave up on it. Nesta could do plenty of thinking for both of them.  
“Lucky for you,” she replied, “I do say so.”
He laughed softly. “Think that makes me the luckiest guy around.”
“No arguments there from me,” Nesta said softly. “Now shhhh. Just relax for a little bit.”
“Okay,” Cassian said back, and then fell silent. Nesta kept running her fingers all over him, and if he was a cat, he knew he’d one hundred percent be purring right now. He was so comfortable laying here in her arms that he wished he could stay here forever, wrapped in her warmth and her reassurance that he was good, but he knew it would eventually have to end.
For now, though, Cassian could at least enjoy it while he had it. He snuggled further into her embrace and left his eyes shut, more than happy to let Nesta block out the world for as long as he could stand to let her. 
Eventually Cassian felt less like he was floating through reality and more like he was standing on solid ground, so he turned his face to try and look at Nesta properly. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Nesta replied casually, like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down, dick first. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” he answered after a moment. He still felt amazing, but things had faded down to a pleasurable buzz and he could actually string more than a few words together. “I’m feeling pretty good, actually.”
“Glad to hear it,” she replied. This close, her eyes looked incredibly blue, and he had to force himself to stay focused despite how pretty they were. “Me too.”
“But you didn’t…?” he asked, trailing off as he realized she hadn’t finished. At least, not that he’d noticed, and he tended to notice those kinds of things when he wasn’t experiencing one of the best orgasms of his life. 
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time,” she told him. Her pleasant expression turned decidedly more wicked as she added, “Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance.”
Cassian’s brain couldn’t keep up with all the possibilities suddenly unfolding before him. “Yeah?”
“Down, boy,” Nesta replied with a fond roll of her eyes. Cassian just grinned up at her, far too excited about the prospect of making her come to be embarrassed. “We’ll talk about it.”
“Okay,” he responded, still smiling. He probably looked a little insane, but if he could give her even a drop of what she’d given him tonight, he was allowed to be a little insane about it. “I’ll be patient.”
“Of course you will,” she told him. She patted his head like he was her pet, and hey, that was… a thought. “For now, let’s get you dressed.”
Cassian recognized the beginnings of a dismissal when he heard one, and even though he knew all good things had to come to an end, that didn’t stop him from holding back a pout as he slowly rolled off Nesta and collected his bearings. His clothes were easy enough to find and put back on, and he’d left his keys, phone, and wallet inside his coat pocket. 
He hated how easy it was to leave, but that was part of the game, too. 
“Let me know when you get home,” Nesta said once they’d left her apartment and started walking to the elevator. She’d put her slippers back on and he thought it was the most adorable thing in the world to watch her pad down the hallway in them, but he valued his dick way too much to say that kind of thing out loud. 
“I know the drill,” Cassian eventually said back. If he was dragging his feet just a little bit to extend his time in her presence, that was between him and the hallway carpet. “I guess I’ll see you in two weeks?”
“You will,” she confirmed. They reached the end of the hallway despite his best efforts, and she reached out to press the elevator button when they were close enough. “I’ll call you on Wednesday, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked, smiling. He just couldn’t help it as far as she was concerned.
“Yes, Cassian,” she answered. The sound of his name on her mouth was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, and judging by the knowing look on her face, she knew it. “You can just assume we have a standing phone call on Wednesdays.”
“Does it come with an itinerary?” he joked, pleased as hell to pull a soft chuckle out of her. She had such a pretty laugh that he wanted to hear it all the time. 
He wanted to do a lot of things with her all the time. It was starting to become a serious problem. 
“You can pick the icebreaker,” she told him dryly. 
“Nah, that’s all you,” he responded, laughing quietly. It felt good to go back and forth with her, but he knew his place here. “You’re the boss.”
The look she gave him right as the elevator doors opened damn near made his toes curl, and his lips parted in slight surprise as she reached up to tug a loose curl back into place. “Smart man. Have a good night.”
Cassian’s scalp tingled pleasantly his entire ride home. 
tag list: @c-e-d-dreamer | @jsmelodies | @queercontrarian | @nativeswfl | @that-little-red-head | @dustjacketmusings | @fieldofdaisiies | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @kale-theteaqueen | @goddess-aelin | @livinforthetea | @valkyrie-archeron | @agents-assemble | @sweet-pea1 | @lilah-asteria | @brieq | @mydnights | @jmoonjones | @readskk | @fwiggle | @bookstantrash | @climbthemountain2020 | @underneath-the-sidras | @illyrianshadowhunter | @sublimecoffeefestival | @superspiritfestival | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @burningsnowleopard | @bri-loves-sunflowers | @itsinherited
62 notes · View notes
bumblesimagines · 3 months ago
Note
were you flirting with them?
you just gave me the impression we were exclusive.
Cassie Howard
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
CW/TW: Mentions of drinking, mild/soft angst
Back to being stuck on mobile.. back to my roots... Moving is an annoying process y'all
Tumblr media
Cassie remained in her spot on the worn-out couch, her hands curled around a plastic cup and lips pressed into a tight line as she watched the center of the room where classmates, strangers, and friends danced along to the song blaring through the speakers.
Baby blue's followed (Y/N) through the room, focusing on the way he laughed and curled his arm around the shoulder of some random girl. Her chest constricted and her hold tightened, the crinkling of her cup swallowed up by the music and chatter.
"Hey!" The cushion sunk slightly with added weight and Maddie's dark eyes peered at her curiously. "What's wrong?"
Cassie raised the cup to her shimmery lips, swallowing down gulps of the cheap beer before jerking her chin in (Y/N)'s direction. Maddy craned her neck, searching the sea of bodies until she found (Y/N).
"Dick." She hissed, turning back to her with a scowl. "Give me this."
Before Cassie could react, Maddy scooped the cup out of her hand and rose from the couch, shimmying and slipping her way through the crowd. Cassie stumbled after her, her name tumbling from her lips in alarm until Maddy reached the two and tilted the cup.
"What the fuck?!" The girl whipped around toward Maddy, hands flying toward her now drenched skirt and wiping at it furiously.
"It was an accident." Maddy scoffed, rolling her eyes as the girl stormed off to clean herself up. She spared (Y/N) a withering look before giving Cassie a small wink and disappearing into the crowd.
"(Y/N), hey," Cassie cleared her throat, carefully avoiding the spilt beer spreading across the tile floor. "Can we talk?"
Searching for a place to talk where the music wouldn't drown their voices or be filled with others proved more difficult than expected. Practically each room had vibrating walls or more than one person inside doing one thing or the other.
"Here." (Y/N) tugged on her hand and pushed one door open with his shoulder. He flickered on a light to reveal a small laundry room and leaned back against the dryer to look at her.
Unable to keep her mouth shut for much longer, Cassie blurted out, "Were you flirting with her?"
"Why does it matter?" The corners of his brows twitched, almost furrowing. His eyes swept over her figure curiously, somewhat knowingly.
"You.." Her cheeks burned. "You just gave me the impression we were exclusive.."
Most of the guys Cassie slept with only ever returned for one singular thing; those she dated eventually left to get with another girl or because the teasing from the other guys got to them. She'd been over the moon when (Y/N) treated her more kindly than the rest, even gifting her a necklace with her name on it for her birthday.
Had she really been foolish to think it was more than hooking up?
(Y/N) frowned, his eyes flickering away from her with a semblance of guilt creeping up onto his face. "I thought we were just friends, to be honest. I didn't mean to lead you on."
"It's- It's fine!" Cassie forced out with a laugh, the back of her eyes beginning to burn. She pressed her lips together again to keep them from quivering. "I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have assumed. I- I should go find my sister."
"Cass-"
Cassie tossed the door open and stepped out into the hallway, abruptly feeling too exposed in the gentle chill of the AC. She wrapped her arms around herself and ignored the sound of (Y/N)'s voice calling her name.
145 notes · View notes
sxfterhearts · 10 months ago
Text
neighbourly visits
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x non-idol!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by recent events, childhood-neighbours!au
♡ word count: 2,422 words
♡ author’s note: ah choi jiung i wish you only good things. >_< i hope you get better soon and no longer feel any pain... i'm sure it was hard for you to stop activities, but i hope you take the time to rest and relax!!! i have not known you for long, but i want to know you for a long time ♡ also pics cred to the lovely tumblr owners!!!
♡ sequel: backstage visits
//
“Hey stranger,” You called out from behind the sliding door that was left ajar, your head peeking through the gap to peer inside the hospital room.
“Hey yourself.” Jiung replied with a light chuckle.
You walked in. Walls covered in flowery 90’s wallpaper greeted you warmly, along with a mounted television playing news silently in the background, a small sofa and coffee table set in the corner and a large window with views of skyscrapers dotted along the side of the Han River. And of course, a single hospital bed with your ex-neighbour-turned-idol lying right on top of it.
“It’s a nice room.” You commented, curious eyes scanning your surroundings.
He scoffed. “Yeah, except now there’s a stain at the bottom of the walls from yesterday.” Jiung admitted sheepishly, hands coming up to rub the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.
“Ah…” You trailed off, setting down the two plastic bags you brought with you on his overbed table. “From when you flooded the bathroom?” You questioned, gentle and careful, nose scrunching up adorably.
“Don’t remind me…” He looked away. “I was so embarrassed! Oh my goodness… The head nurse laughed right in my face! I mean, it sounds like she thought it was funny, but I felt so bad.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, plus, who doesn’t like Krispy Kreme donuts?” “I hope so…”
“Anyways, I brought the goods, like you asked.” Your eyebrows cocked towards the bags, while you dragged a fold-up chair closer to his bedside.
Jiung’s eyes lit up at the mention of this. “You did?”
“Of course, who do you think I am?” You laughed, fingers moving to unpack the food. “Half and half wings, gold king and bburinkle flavoured, one pack of bburinkle cheese balls, and a large tteokbokki.” As you announced the order, you brought out the takeaway boxes one by one – soy sauce, sweet honey and garlic flavoured, then cheese powder flavoured wings; the mozzarella cheese balls that you both enjoyed and the large container filled with spicy rice cakes. “Oh, and Cass beer!”
“Y/N…” Jiung uttered, his mouth quickly salivating at the mention of his favourite meal: chicken and beer. “Are you an angel?”
You laughed out loud, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. You turned around, heading to the adjoined bathroom, hoping to hide your flustered expression. Too late, though, Jiung thought that shade of pink looked the cutest on you. “I think you’re just hallucinating from all the drugs they’ve put you under.” You replied. 
“I have been dreaming about this meal since I got admitted last week. You’re really saving my life, neighbour.” Jiung breathed out, still amazed at the generous spread of food. 
As you walked out, you saw Jiung swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. “Woah, hold on soldier, where do you think you’re going?”
He stopped, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “To wash my hands.”
“No need for that. Sit down and rest – doctor’s orders, remember?” You reached into your handbag and pulled out a hand sanitiser, passing it over to him. “Use this instead. Plus, it’s BHC. They’re professionals. There’s gloves.”
At that, Jiung rolled his eyes at you. “I’m fine,” He drawled out, yet accepting your offer and sanitising his hands. “It’s not like I’m severely injured or anything.”
You gave him a pointed look, fully sceptical. “Right.” 
“I’m serious!”
“A ruptured thigh muscle, Jiung. You ruptured your thigh muscle.” You deadpanned, your motherly instincts firing up. “That’s a big deal! Just sit down and eat your chicken, okay?”
“Fine…” He grumbled, pouting as he pulled on his gloves. 
“So, how are you feeling about it?”
“About the leg? It’s fine. Honestly, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” Jiung paused to take a bite of the cheese ball, eyes closing in pure bliss as he did so. “So good. This always hits.”
“Okay, but that’s not what I meant.”
“What do you mean?”
You sighed, reaching for a can of beer and opening it for him. “You know what I mean…”
He accepted it, taking a big gulp as he thought through his response. “It’s… fine.” Jiung looked down, suddenly taking a lot of interest in the box of fried chicken in front of him.
“Are you really okay? You were preparing for such a long time. Your mum even told me that you were practising non-stop, even on Seollal, and most of Christmas through to New Years. She said she could only send you banchan this year and was really sad about not seeing you back home.”
“Hey,” He looked up. “Are you here to visit your sick neighbour or to guilt trip him for not visiting his family?” Jiung said before biting into a bburinkle flavoured wing.
“Firstly, ex-neighbour. You moved out years and years ago. Secondly, I’m not trying to guilt trip you. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“Well, why do you care if you’re just my ex-neighbour?” Jiung countered in a quiet voice.
“That’s not what I - ” You stopped, sighing. “Okay, we both know you’re not just my ex-neighbour.”
“What am I then?” He looked you straight  in the eye.
The two of you engaged in a tense staring contest before the eye contact and the intensity behind his lids freaked you out. “My… My friend, okay? Geez, that’s not the point. Stop deflecting, Choi Jiung. I’ve known you for over a decade and you’re still the same. Always trying to avoid talking about your feelings.” You huffed, passing a pair of chopsticks to him and sliding over the container of tteokbokki. 
Jiung nodded his thanks, accepting the cutlery and digging in.
Silence ensued as the words hung over the pair of you. You ate quietly while Jiung slurped up his rice cakes like a starved man. He set down his chopsticks once he took a big bite, sighing. “Okay, fine. You got me. I’m not okay.”
“See! Jiung, you have to talk about your feelings.” You stopped, hands coming up to make vague gestures in the air to emphasise your point. “It’s important! You can’t just keep everything inside. Like,” You picked up a can of unopened beer. “Like this. If you keep it bottled inside and shake it too much, it’ll explode completely and make a mess. Please, just talk to me about it. How are you feeling, Choi Jiung?”
He grimaced internally at the use of his full name, the name his mother would use whenever she got mad at him. “Yeah, I’m not okay. I’m so not okay, Y/N.” He sighed again. At this point, you grew slightly concerned that he would then hurt his nostrils from heavy sighing. You shook the silly thought away to focus. “I’m not okay, because, you know what, yeah. You’re right. We have been practising for so long, and so hard. And I was so excited, and had so many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to do my solo, and what lyrics would go well for the song, and how to set up the stages, and what outfits would go together, and, and…” He took a deep breath to calm himself. Jiung could feel his eyes heat up and the corner of his lids prickling, tears beginning to gather slowly but surely. “And for all that to be taken away from me, it just feels so, so unfair.” His voice sounded so small and vulnerable, your heart cracked a little bit for him. A stray tear escaped, rolling down his cheeks.
Immediately, you use the ends of your sleeves to dab away at his tears. Nodding, you encouraged him to go on.
“And… And I really wanted to visit Japan. Shota was gonna bring us to all these places, we were gonna have dinner with his family, and I was really looking forward to being back in America. I really wanted to walk around LA again, and see the huge trees, and…” Jiung paused again, trying to compose himself. “And I’m just really sad I can’t see the fans. I feel so bad, like I let them down, and I know that for some of them this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing to see us and I let them down and - ”
You didn’t allow him to continue - you simply stood up from your seat and sat next to him on the bed, enveloping him in a hug. “And that’s enough, I’m not gonna let you continue talking down to yourself like that.” You said in a hushed voice. You weren’t too sure why you were whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do.
Jiung shut up promptly, closing his wet eyes, and burying his face in your sweater. He breathed in your scent, a mixture of your fabric softener and jasmine, and felt at ease. He was transported back to simpler times - growing up in a high-rise apartment in the outskirts of Seoul, catching cicadas by the stream next to your house, and running around the parks until the sun went down.
You stayed like this for awhile, and it was like time stopped for you. You could barely breathe from how close you were to Jiung, someone you had admired for a long time now - initially from up close, close enough to count the eyelashes on his pretty face. And now from afar, through a screen. Initially, you wrapped him in a hug to stop him from talking about how he let his fans down, but now, you were just enjoying his warmth. Jiung hugged you back tighter, and you could feel the ends of his orange hair tickling your neck.
It was Jiung who broke the silence. “You feel the same - smell the same, even.” He mumbled, lips too close to your skin for you to maintain a healthy heartbeat.
“Yeah, well…” You hated yourself for pulling away, but you had to do it to check up on him; make sure he was okay.  “Moving out to the big city made me crave familiarity. So I had to ask Mum to send me a picture of the softener she used for our clothes when we were growing up.”
Jiung smiled at that. “That’s nice.”  He liked the idea of you calling your mum about something as simple as laundry. Often, he felt like his calls back home were the opposite of mundane - his mother would ask him where he was flying to that weekend; he would reply with the destination and tell her that he was working on a few new songs. She would tell him to eat well and not sleep too late; he would reply in the affirmative, hiding the fact that most of the time they were recording in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed like you were worlds apart. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel more than grateful to have a friend like you in his life to keep him grounded. Someone from his previous life, as a child, before he was P1Harmony’s Jiung - when he was just himself, just plain old Choi Jiung. A boy from Anyang. A boy with big dreams. Just a regular boy.
“Also, I’m sure your fans understand. And they’d want you to rest! Trust me,” You paused, “Everyone on SNS has been commenting to wish you a speedy recovery but also saying that this is a great opportunity for you to get some well-deserved rest. You guys never seem to rest these days. A comeback and a tour? You must’ve been so busy..”
Jiung laughed, amused. “You read the fan comments?”
“What? Of course! Why are you surprised?”
“Wow…” Jiung replied. “You know, we kinda lost contact when we were in high school but when you reached out again a few years ago I really did think it was because you suddenly missed me. Now I know why…”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you reach out because you were a fan? I always believed your story - I thought it really was because you bumped into my mum back in Anyang and she passed you my new number.”
“I mean…” You fumbled. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. “That happened! I swear!”
“But…?”
“No buts! That is definitely what happened.”
“Right… So who’s your P1Harmony bias? Tell me.” Jiung teased, lips curling into a cheeky grin. He passed you the beer, urging you to drink. “Drink up and tell me. Don’t worry, I can set you up with them. Just tell me.”
You took a huge gulp as you whacked him on the arm.
“Hey! That hurt!”
“You deserved it.” You mumbled.
“So, who is it?” Jiung still wouldn’t let it go. 
“You don’t need to know.” The tips of your ears were warming up now. You distracted yourself by munching on some wings, hoping he would just drop the topic already.
“C’mon, I deserve to know, at least.”
Just then, your phone, which was on top of the table, lit up with a Kakao notification. Your eyes widened in alarm, suddenly remembering that you had just recently changed your wallpaper to a (very cute) photo of Jiung from their most recent music video. With your clean hand, you reached over to grab it before Jiung could see it.
But alas, you were too slow. “Oh…” Jiung mused, getting all cocky. “I get it now.”
“What do you get? There’s nothing to get.” You forced out a laugh, flipping your phone the other way and burying it under your seat.
“Y/N…” Jiung drawled out the syllabus of your name in a teasing yet slightly dangerous way, as if he had an evil master plan. “Tell me something, and be honest.”
“Nope, I refuse.” You said, shaking your head vigorously.
“Do you like me?”
You continued shaking your head no and chewing in silence.
“Be honest, I’m not gonna judge you. Am I your bias?”
“Shut up, I refuse to answer.”
“Ah, so I am right.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“You didn’t have to say it, Y/N. I can tell… Just admit it. You like me.”
“No! This is so embarrassing…”
//
{ epilogue }
The nurses filling out their charts at the station giggled and gossiped over their dinners. 
“So, what do you think is gonna happen?”
“Gosh, watching them is so frustrating. Like, just confess already!”
“I know right! I almost want to do something about it. Like slip them a note or push them into each other or something.”
“Ah, the beauty of young love…”
155 notes · View notes
toulousewayne · 1 year ago
Text
Batfam and Batsis Headcannon: Ages 17-21
Tim:
Timothy Jackson Drake, was a little menace. Y/n knew that from the Time she found him on her doorstep. Tim was the first person Y/n felt like she had to really be careful of her actions in front of. Not because Tim would copy her but because she felt like she was supposed to set an example something she never had to do.
Tim becoming Robin was a bit of a blur for her, she just remembers them patrolling a lot and Tim asking her a lot questions in the beginning.
Tim didn’t live at the manor right away in fact it was a bit into his career before he fully moved in after his parents respected passings.
Tim felt guilty for not saving his father and Y/n spend a lot of time with him to help resolve this feelings because it wasn’t Tim’s fault.
Tim was the little brother she always wanted, he steal her eyeliner and she storm into his room and pick with him while Kon,Bart and Cassie would come over. They loved Tim’s cool older sister and she liked them.
Tim had trouble with words, especially with his feelings. It was no surprise to anyone that Tim walked into his sister’s room on a random Thrusday Night with blush on his face.
“What is it Little Bird?” She inquired while still having her face shoved in a Physics textbook.
Scratching the back of his neck and breathed out a strangled sign,” How do you know when you like someone?”
Y/n turned her gaze to him,”Like or Like Like?”
“Like like.”
“Boy or Girl?”
His blush grew even darker,”Well uhh..”
“Doesn’t matter to me, but just be your normal dorky self. Just don’t word vomit. You tend to do that Little Bird.”
Tim came out to his older sister first years later because she made Tim feel seen but not like it wasn’t a big deal.
Tim and Y/n formed a a very fun bond, it even rivaled his bond with Dick which made the older man a little jealous but it made him become more active with his younger brother which was something Y/n wanted him to do.
Patrol with Batgirl, Robin and Nightwing were the most comical nights Gotham had seen. You had a detective smartass Robin, a chatty hot headed older Bird, and the sassy and mysterious Batgirl. Riddler still has nightmares.
But things began to change and soon other additions became known.
Cassandra:
Y/n had made it clear to Bruce that she wanted a sister, not that she didn’t enjoy her time with Tim and Dick and even Jason. But she wanted someone who could relate to her.
One night after patrol Y/n returned to the Clock Tower and was introduced to Cass. She didn’t talk and once Barbara told her about what happened to her it only made Y/n more protective of her.
Between her and Babs Cass began to think for herself and not like how she was programmed by her father. Barbara taught Cass more about personal and emotional development, but Y/n showed Cass how to be a teenage girl.
She took her to the mall with Tim and let her pick out clothes she felt comfortable with, she let Cass take clothes from her closet in the end because it made her feel connected to people.
Y/n was training and Cass enter the room,”Sorry didn’t realize I was taking so long, I’ll clear out if you like.”
“No,your fine.” Cass responses. Cass takes a stance in front of her. Y/n gets in stance and they too spar. Cass can quickly match Y/n’s attacks and defenses.
The two sparred for a few hours before calling it. “Not bad Sis, how about a Root Beer Float on me?”
“Okie.”
Y/n wraps her arm around Cass and the pair walk out the gym. They two Wayne Sisters scare Bruce. And most men except Alfred.
Y/n was getting ready to graduate Gotham Academy with Honors and she felt kinda sad and Cass appeared before her and engulfed her in a hug.
“She would be proud.” She knew Cass was referring to Y/n’s Mom. “Thank you Sissy.”
Everyone attended,Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Barbara, Tim, and Cass. She was so happy and Bruce threw a party at Wayne Manor for the graduation class.
Y/n took Cass from a group of kids she met at school and took her to her room.
“Cass I your aware that I’m leaving in a few weeks for college in Metropolis.” Cass nodded.
“As much fun as it would be to tag along with Uncle Clark, I just won’t have to time or really need to patrol. Which is why I talked to Babs a few days ago and I’m stepping down as Batgirl.”
Cass understood what she was saying but she also knew how hard Y/n worked to become the new Batgirl.
Y/n took a black box and handed it to Cass. “Me and Babs think your ready and I couldn’t ask for someone else to carry on the mantle.” Cass tore open the box to find her own Batgirl suit.
Tears formed in Cass’s eyes and she hugged Y/n
“I won’t let you down.”
“I know sis, your gonna rock.” Y/n smiled and hugged her back.
Stephanie:
Y/n had taken a step down from being Batgirl full time meaning for a short time Robin patrolled alone. She felt guilty but soon she learned that her little bird had a friend.
Y/n meet Stephanie when Tim and her became official, this was only a few months before she totally resigned from the mantle but she did get to work with Steph a hand full of times.
One of the last times was when ClueMaster escaped from Blackgate and threaten Stephanie’s Mom.
Spoiler spring into action and Batgirl responded to Oracle’s request to assist her. The two formed a plan of action to enter Stephanie’s Mom job and save the hostages.
“You take the left side and I’ll go right. Take the goons out swiftly and hard.”
“Rodger that Batgirl.”
The pair made quick work of the goons, and finally found ClueMaster who had Steph’s mom hostage.
Once they save her she was anything but thankful and resented her daughter for re-prisoning her father.
Batgirl called her own and made the woman feel bad but the damage was done as Stephanie told Batgirl on a rooftop later that night, she learned that she wasn’t to blame for her parents choices nor should she have to atone for her father’s sins.
“Your Steph, never let anyone tell you stop being who you are and never stop being a light for others.”
Even once Stephanie and Tim relationship became more friendly and less romantic Y/n loved the blonde just as much.
Steph would drive up on the weekends with Cass and visit her in college. They would go shopping, try new restaurants and go fun amusement parks.
Stephanie and Y/n become really good friends and if Y/n needed to talk someone who was her siblings or Dad Steph was always willing to listen.
Jason Pt 2:
When Red Hood first emerged Y/n was away in school and no one told her. She had a long weekend and came home to surprise her family. Alfred was the most surprised to find her at the door but by the look on his face it didn’t seem like she was the first surprise this week.
She soon found out about Dick’s bruised ribs and broken leg, and Tim being attacked at Titan’s tower. Even Bruce had token a beaten from his last encounter with Red Hood and Y/n was furious.
“HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL YOU GOT HURT!” She scolded her father.
“y/n, please we didn’t want to worry you, we have everything under—“
She scoffed,”Like Hell you do! Your hurt Dick is black and blue,and Tim looks like he just did three tours in World War Two.”
She bit her tongue,”Who is he Father?”
Bruce sighed,”Y/n..”
“I won’t ask twice.”
Bruce didn’t answer her but instead pressed the button on the computer that light up with the DNA test he just got the results back minutes before her arrival.
Over the course of a minute several different emotions washed over her face and it landed on stoic. She turned on her heels and left the cave with Bruce calling for her to wait.
In a hours time she stood in front of a door in an abandoned apartment complex and knocked on the door. When no once answered she kicked the door down. And in the center of the room was a man laughing with a sack on his head as he was tied and chained to a folding chair.
She marched to him and ripped off the sack and there was bloody and bruised Joker.
“Ooh hello your the beautiful Wayne Daughter that left. Welcome back cupcake.” He chuckled. The sound of the gun clicking filled the room with Joker’s blooded laughing.
“Turn around.” The deep voice ordered. Smirking to herself, “if you were gonna shot me you’d pull the trigger already big brother.”
The room is silent and before Red Hood screams in pain, when Y/n turns around his hand is bloody and a Batarang is on the ground.
“Stand down Jason, he’s not worth it.” Batman brooded.
“You never understood me Old man, I never wanted to kill innocent people. Not Harvey,not Bane just him. He took me away from you..from her. From everything.”
The two had a heated argument and fight that ended with Bruce shielding Y/n from the explosion of the building.
Y/n returned to Jason’s grave and laid flowers. Sighing to herself she stood up and turned to the tree adjacent to his grave.
“You could have found me, I would have helped you Jay. I still can.” Jason appeared in a hoodie and refused to look her in the eyes.
“You always saw the best in me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”
“Bullshit Todd, you can play that song all you want but it doesn’t work on me.” She snapped.
He finally met her gaze, it was the first time since prior to his death did she see his face. His blue eyes now a deep green, a white tuff of hair at the base of his hair, a scare on his left cheek, his eyes look tired as well.
“I’m not who I used to be, I’ve changed, I’ve killed and I can’t change that. They don’t see it but what I do is stop the murders, rapistst the monsters from hurting people.”
She signed,”I won’t lie and say Dad’s ways have flaws but so do yours,” she glanced at the tombstone and dusted it off.
“I remember you taking to me, you visted me all the time.” He grinned .
“And now your back.” She smiled
He didn’t meet her gaze,” it’s not gonna be happy in the Manor, maybe never again.”
“You could try to find out what you want Jay, not many get a second chance at life.”
He nodded and with that he sighed with a grin,”I make no promises, I’ll see you around sis.” And he left the graveyard and she sighed to herself knowing that it was possible but it would take sometime for them to get Jason back.
When she returned to the manor she heard shouting and screaming. She rushed into the living room where Bruce and Dick were trying to keep Tim and and a young boy from killing each other.
“That fucking Demon cut me!” Tim shrieked.
“And I’ll draw more of your pathetic blood imposter.” The boy hissed being held in a tight grip by Dick.
“I can’t leave you idiots alone for five minutes!” Y/n snapped and all the eyes turned to her.
The boy with the deep copper skin and jade eyes was the first to speak,”Is she another one of your bastards you plucked off the sidewalk.” He hissed at Bruce.
Y/n eyed the boy before she turned back to her father,”And who might he be.”
“Damian, he’s your little Brother Y/n.” A tired Bruce clarified.
“Brother!”
“SHE’S MY SISTER!”
309 notes · View notes
lunaatthezoo · 2 months ago
Text
The Light Between Sin & Salvation: Chapter 2
🎶 Good morning, good morning, you slept the whole night through. Good morning, good morning, new chapter for u! 🎶
Chapter 2: Pizza and Beer
Summary: Az and Elain strike up a friendship. They learn surprising facts about each other. Az becomes significantly more deranged about protecting Elain. We have a CLASSIC "Who did this to you?" moment (honestly my fave trope I don't care how played out it is). Preview below!
Tumblr media
Azriel lounged in his car for a couple hours, listening to his book and surveying the surroundings. He had parked further down the block so he could watch Elain’s building from a distance, both to maintain her privacy and to avoid any potential enemies learning where her building was. 
He checked his phone every few minutes but received hardly anything. One message from Rhys saying Nesta had finally agreed. One message from Cass with a crying emoji. Azriel responded to each with noncommittal remarks. 
He checked Elain’s window through binoculars every few minutes as well. Thank god for tinted windows or someone for sure would have called the cops on him. 
Her curtains were open and he could make out an apartment filled with pastel colors and hanging plants. It made him smile. It probably smelled so fucking good in there. He imagined the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies wafting through the small space. 
At one point he glimpsed Elain doing dishes. Her sink must be right under the window. He watched her methodically wash and rinse. She bounced a little and looked like she might be singing along to music. 
Fuck. She was so mesmerizing to watch. 
When evening was beginning to fall, Elain stepped out of the front door of her apartment and Azriel straightened. She walked the opposite direction down the street, so Azriel slid out of his car and followed on silent feet. He patted both his holsters under his jacket to make sure he was locked and loaded. 
He followed half a block behind Elain for about fifteen minutes. Thank fuck she was wearing a puffy winter coat so he wasn't forced to watch a swishing ass as she walked. He was certain he wouldn't be able to handle that. 
The god damn effect this woman already had on him. 
She finally entered a cozy-looking coffee shop on a bustling little corner. Azriel debated waiting outside but it was fucking cold and the warmth inside beckoned him, so he slipped through the door after a minute or two. 
She had told him to “pop up” every once in a while. 
Az ducked into the shop, a little bell jingling above him as he did. He instantly spotted Elain at the counter ordering and he hung back in the front corner of the shop, waiting. Elain then walked to the other end of the counter to wait for her drink. She started shifting nervously on her feet. She didn’t have quite the same light air to her as she had earlier in the day. It looked like something was weighing her down. 
Continue reading on AO3!
53 notes · View notes