#if I weren’t brain dead when it came to editing I could make such a powerful ‘Sus CJ moments comp’ like he’s a king for that tbh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eagerbby · 2 years ago

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killing loneliness | em

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| You’ve wanted him for so long. Dreamed of him, yearned for him, but could never have him. But now, he’s yours.

an| part 2 in my Heaven in Hiding series, we’re getting filthy in here baby. 18+ only part 1 here

this was quickly edited at midnight so i apologize for any editing errors

warnings| oral (f receiving), overstimulation, slight choking, protected sex, eddie munson the pussy eating king, not edited sorry folks

Eddie Munson has always been an impatient man. Even as a child waiting for his father to visit, Eddie would sit by the open window of Wayne’s trailer ripping the wings off dead flies, every loud motor had him throwing his head out the screen less window in hope it was his fathers beat up Chevy. He’d eye the ticking hands of the old wall clock, hound Wayne with ”What time did he say, again?” and “What time is it now?”.

He’d sit in that window from the time he woke up till the sun was setting, the candescent moon peeking out from the apricot sky. He’d pick his nail beds, cuticles bloody and torn, socked toes tapping anxiously against the wooden panel walls. His father would call later, something about the truck wouldn’t start or he got held up with some business, and young Eddie Munson would slump onto the couch next to his uncle and wallow.

Eddie Munson has always been impatient, so it should come as no surprise that he counted every waking minute since you walked out his trailer door. Thirteen days. He could tell you the exact amount of hours, minutes, seconds, since he saw you last. He can’t help himself, really. It’s what he did between his fathers visits, his way of coping with the inability to make things happen when he wants them to.

When he closes his eyes his brain conjures up the image of you, smiling at him from the passenger's seat of his van, the twinkle in your eyes when he gained the confidence to step closer to you, you with your mouth around his cock sucking the soul from his body. He considers himself a goner, thinks it’s kinda pathetic that you flipped his world inside out in only a couple hours. A couple hours with you changed the whole trajectory of his life.

The day after you elbowed your way into his life Eddie gathered what little courage he had and walked the short distance to your trailer. He knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. You weren’t home. He knew you worked -and had class at the community college- though he didn’t know where, so he took up camp in his front yard with his campaign notebook and his favorite book and waited. Waited the whole day, into the dark starry night, but you never came home.

Which leads him to now, thirteen days after, and every waking minute he suffers through the memories of your hands exploring his scars. He thinks he’s never felt like this before, though he’s not quite sure of what it is he’s feeling. Love? Lust? Longing? Possibly all three. He thought, a brief fleeting thought, to ask Wayne what love feels like. His uncle is wise, something Eddie has always admired of the aging man, but he’s always been alone. Eddie’s entire life, he can never remember Uncle Wayne with anyone. Wonders if Wayne even knows how love feels. He squashed the thought like the butt of a cigarette under the toes of his sneaker and continued to wait.

Sleep was becoming hard, tossing and turning in the late hours of the night, sitting drowsy and half brain dead on the couch early in the mornings when Wayne was just getting home from the plant. On a quiet Thursday, Wayne sat down across from his nephew with deep seated pity in his muted blue eyes.

“Bud, I don’t know what’s going’ on with ya, but starvin’ yourself ain’t the answer.” Wayne was handling him with kid gloves, much like he did all those years ago when Eddie’s father never showed and he’d find Eddie sullenly sitting by the damn window.

“I’m fine old man.” Eddie shrugs, pushing around soggy cereal with his spoon. “Just got a lot on my mind s’all.” He offers his uncle an easy smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Hate’s the worried look on his uncles face.

“I’m here, you know. Always here for you, bud.”

Friday after work Eddie drives to Family Video, using the excuse of his overdue movie to see his friends while they work. It doesn’t take long for them to realize something is off with the usually rambunctious metalhead.

“What crawled up your kester?” Says Steve as he narrows his eyes, looking at Eddie from head to toe.

“Nothing, damn. Get off my ass, Harrington.” Eddie scoffs, heeling the blue carpet under his feet.

“Nah, somethings not right with you, Munson, you’re less annoying than usual.” Steve insists, face stony.

“Spill it, dingbat. Something’s up, for sure. Are you having nightmares again?” Robin’s voice is hushed as she asks the last part, leaning against the counter flicking a pen between two long fingers.

“Wait, nightmares? How often do you two talk without me?” Steve questions, not able to hide his offense. Robin only rolls her eyes, fixing the collar of her checkered blouse.

“I need someone to talk to about all the bizzaro shit that keeps happening, Eddie’s the only one that didn’t forget about it in five point three seconds.”

Steve visibly recoils. “I didn’t forget about it, Robin, how could any of us forget about it? Some of us are just better at-”

Robin cuts him off with a push to the side of his head. “If you say ‘compartmentalize’ to me one more time, I’m gonna compartmentalize my foot up your ass. Eddie, please, spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill, guys.” Eddie chuckles at the death glare Steve shoots Robin. “Just got a lot on my mind.” Eddie fiddles with the half peeled sticker pasted against the spine of the movie he rented last month. He wasn’t gonna do it, but he can’t think of any better option, so he asks about you before he can chicken out, a quick “Hey do you guys know-” before he tosses the VHS tape in his hands to Steve.

Robin’s eyes widen as she processes his words, bouncing on the tips of her toes, elbow continuously flying into Steve’s back as he checks the overdue movie back in.

“This isn’t Upside Down problems! This is girl problems!” Robin claps her hands together, smiling widely at the metalhead whose cheeks and ears flame red.

“No. No. This isn’t girl problems, Rob.” Eddie points a finger at her like you would a misbehaving child, but Robin only cocks her head and widens her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why do you wanna know about her anyways?” Steve asks, coming to lean against the counter next to Robin.

“She, u-uh, lives in the park and Wayne said he hasn’t seen her in weeks. Seems kinda worried so I was just… wondering.” He lies straight to his friends face and they know he’s lying by the twin expressions of disbelief they share.

“You are the most atrocious liar I’ve ever met, dingbat.” Robin deadpans and Steve only shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

“Jesus Christ, can you just answer the damn question?” Impatient, like always.

“I’m gonna need a little more than ‘uncle Wayne’s worried’ before-” Robin starts, but this time Steve cuts her off.

“She comes in every week, buys our newest horror movie and a bag of caramel corn, and leaves. She’s not very talkative, but she’s nice.” Imagine that, The Hair giving helpful info, if you had asked Eddie last March if Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington was helpful he would have laughed in your face. “Robin knows where she works.”

Eddie’s eyes tear to Robin, who is leveling the metalhead with a furrowed look, like she’s daring him to ask her.

“You’re friends?” Eddie asks, trying to seem neutral but that little twitch in Robin’s upper lip tells him he’s not.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“For Christsake, Robin-” Eddie starts, slapping his palms flat against the glass counter, the sound of his metal rings connecting with the glass ringing through the room.

“We’ve been friends since high school, you know the band geek and the semi popular loner girl, we’re quite the pair.”

“Yeah, we’re sure you both are fucking annoying together, just tell the man where she works.” Steve looks like he’s ready to go home, his eyes constantly searching out the clock on the wall. Robin ignores him, leaning over the counter like she’s gonna tell him a secret.

“You know,” She starts, her voice tingeing on conspiracy, “You two would really get along.”

Eddie’s stomach stupidly flutters at her words, even as he realizes she's only messing with him.

“In fact,” She continues, reaching over the counter to boop Eddie’s nose. He swats her hands away as she rambles on. “You two would actually be a really cute couple. She’s nice and hot and you’re-” She gestures up and down his six foot frame. “...well, you, I guess.”

“I’m leaving.” Eddie snaps, snatching his black lunch box off the counter -he *was gonna offer to smoke with Robin on her break, but she blew that- before stalking towards the door.

“You ran him off!” Steve exclaims while Eddie’s halfway out the door. “Good going, Rob.”

“There’s a bar off Cornwallis, the Drunken Pig, try there.” Robin yells just as the glass door swings shut.

—- -

It’s around ten o’clock, while parked outside of the skeazy bar on the edge of town, when Eddie realizes this might be considered stalking.

He had arrived around nine but sat slumped down in the driver's seat of his van watching people trickle in and out of the neon framed building. He was hoping Robin wasn’t fucking with him like usual. Hope to see you bounce up the sidewalk any second now. Preferably alone, the thought of seeing you with someone else stuck in his brain, like a little devil Eddie sitting on his shoulder. He shouldn’t be so possessive, so jealous, but he can’t stop torturing himself over the fact that he had you if only for a brief moment. But in that moment he called himself yours and your eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. That had to mean something, right?

That jealousy is killing his stomach, twisting it in tight sailor knots impossible to unravel, leaving him tapping unsteady beats against the black pleather of his steering wheel with ringed fingers. He didn’t really have a plan here. If he saw you, he saw you. At least then he’d confirm that you were alive and okay. But that’s where this little adventure would end because Eddie would rather jump naked into Lover’s Lake in the dead of winter than make you aware that he had found you. Through Robin of all people. That he waited here for hours in hopes that you’d show up.

Remember that thing about Eddie being an impatient man? Yeah, well, he thinks you’re changing him.

This is all so ridiculous, he thinks to himself, considering all that happened between the two of you just fifteen days earlier. At night, he can still feel the way your nails dragged up the expanse of his legs. His body misses your touch, craves it like an addict craves a fix. Like a dog craves a bone. He needs you so badly it’s driving him crazy.

Crazy enough to scope out a fucking bar for a glimpse of your face.

Okay, maybe he is a freak, because who fucking does this?

His self deprecation is cut short when the double doors of the bar swing open and you come storming out, a sour look on your face. Eddie’s heart stops.

Following behind you, with an equally sour expression, is a man. Tall and tan, with buzzed black hair and a full thick beard. The man grabs your arm as he follows after you and you twist your body as you wrench out of his grasp, pushing him hard in the chest. Eddie clenches the steering wheel with one hand, the other flinging to grip the door handle. Just in case.

You say something to the man, speaking so softly but with such vitriol your entire face screws up in disgust. The man in front of you throws his hands up in the air, face pointed to the sky as you continue jabbing your finger into his chest.

Eddie’s small shaky breath fills his van and the man he wishes to punch in the face for upsetting you so much drops to his knees in front of you. His hands are folded together like prayer, eyes wide as he begs you, for what Eddie doesn’t know.

Not knowing makes his chest ache.

Eddie watches the way you sigh heavily, raking a hand over your face, down your jaw, and around to the back of your neck. Your shoulders slump, hand reaching into the front pocket of the stranger's jacket. You pull out a pen before you take the man's hand in yours, etching something onto the skin of his hand with delicate fingers. When you’re done you drop the pen in front of him and shake your head. You seem to say something that causes the man to nod before you walk around him, feet carrying you back into the bar.

Eddie feels like throwing up.

He doesn’t stick around much longer, throwing his van into drive and peeling out of the parking lot. He speeds down the deserted road in silence back to Forest Hills.

— -

Day twenty-four.

Monday morning, the sun rays cast their warmth over the carpet in Eddie’s room. Seven days till Halloween. Seven days till the show at The Hideout. Eddie hasn’t seen you since that night at the bar, his hope dashed at the sight of you with that strange man.

It’s only nine, according to his watch, and Eddie still lays in bed in only his boxers staring up at the slow spin of his ceiling fan. He got the day off thanks to his boss, and he was actively avoiding his Automotive class after failing the last exam, allowing him to be lazy for the day. With no plans, other than meeting up with the boys later to rehearse, he allows himself to just be. To just lay in his bed, a cool draft coming in through his open window, and relax. His body feels tight, stress sitting heavily in the muscles of his shoulders and neck, and he stretches his arms over his head in an attempt to loosen them.

He can’t stop thinking of you.

You’ve become a plague on his mind, always there, making a home for yourself in his brain. He gave up trying to see you after that night, instead taking up sulking and pouting. Getting off work just to go home and sprawl his long body over the couch, eyes glued to the TV even though he wasn’t even watching it.

He’s being pitiful and he knows it, but no matter what he does he can’t seem to snap out of whatever spell you’ve put him under. Sighing loudly, and scratching his chipped black painted nails across the small tuft of hair on his sternum, Eddie reaches over to his bedside table and grabs his half empty pack of smokes. He shakes one out, images of your smile flashing through his mind like a film reel, and plops it between his lips. He’s gotta get a grip on himself, he thinks, this can’t be healthy.

Eddie freezes as he brings his lighter up to the cigarette hanging from his lips, ears perking up at the sounds coming through his window. Two voices.

“Good mornin’, hun.” That’s Wayne, his usual gruff voice now a sing-song as he speaks.

“Howdy, Wayne. How was work?”

You. It’s you.

Eddie falls to the floor as he scrambles out of bed, crawling over piles of dirty clothes and miscellaneous shit, cursing under his breath as he grips the windowsill and pulls himself up. You must be on the front porch because Eddie can’t see you from this angle.

“Oh, you know. I don’t get paid enough for the bullshit they put me through.” Wayne chuckles, meanwhile Eddie’s struggling to find a clean pair of pants to put on.

“I hear ya, the bar’s been working me overtime lately and then there’s my classes...” Eddie yanks his closet open, pulling the first shirt he sees off its hanger before rushing to put it over his head, stumbling down the hallway as he does so.

“We haven’t seen much of you lately, glad to know you’re okay.” Wayne lays his hand gently on your arm as Eddie yanks the door open, his stomach exploding with fireworks when he sees you.

You look so pretty standing on his porch in blue jean shorts and an off the shoulder long sleeve. Your eyes meet his in an instant and Eddie’s blood fights which direction to flood to -his cheeks or his dick- when you smile at him so brightly you could put the sun to shame.

“Ed, surprised you’re awake.” Says Wayne and when Eddie doesn’t respond he takes a glance between the two of you before nodding his head with a knowing smile. “I’m gonna sleep now, you two kids keep it down, yeah?”

“Sure thing, Wayne. Good seeing ya.” You blink away from Eddie’s stare to smile at the older man. He nods at you and squeezes past Eddie who still stands in the doorway.

“Hey.” He breathes, trying to memorize every aspect of your appearance. You shake your head and pull him by his elbow out of the trailer. He shuts the door behind him, hands going to his back pockets once he's done.

“Hi, Eddie. How are you?” You do that thing he loves, when you cock your head to the side and bat your eyes, it makes him weak in the knees every fucking time.

“Good. Great. Yeah, yeah I-I’ve been fantastic.” He stutters through a response, eyes locked on the way you bite your lip to hide your smile.

“A little birdie told me you’ve been asking around about me.” You say with a little chuckle and Eddie feels his heart drop to his ass.

*Fucking. Robin.

“W-Wayne and I were worried, is all.” Eddie tries, tries so hard to make his voice not waver as he speaks, but he can’t help being a stuttering mess. You look so pretty, and you’re so close, he can smell your sweet scent every time it gets wafted into his face by the breeze. It makes his mouth water, makes his hands tremble. He wants to snatch you to his chest and kiss the air from your lungs. Take you back to your trailer -shit he’d even settle for his van- and fuck you nice and slow. Make you take his cock and plead and beg for him to let you cum. He wants you to scream that you’re his and no one else's.

“No need to worry, I’m a big girl ya know. I can take care of myself.” You sit down on the step, Eddie taking the cue to sit next to you.

“I-I know. Everything okay?” He presses, his arm grazing yours.

You seem to weigh his question as you take a crumpled cigarette pack from your back pocket, shake one out and place it between your lips. You light it with a long inhale, Eddie watches the prickle of tears building in your eyes, scoots closer until your bare arm touches his.

“Want one?” You ask, voice tight, chin wavering slightly. It breaks his heart watching your face contort, he’s not sure of what he can even do to help you, so he takes the smoke you hand him and lets you light it for him. His eyes never move from yours, chocolate brown stare locked to your bloodshot eyes.

“Angel?” He can’t hide the blatant worry in his voice, hands shaking to reach out but you’re already leaning into him, resting your temple against his shoulder.

“My mom’s dying.” You admit, closing your eyes as Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulder. You let him pull your body into his, take another long drag of your cigarette.

“I didn’t know you still talked to your mom.” He says cautiously, not knowing how much you’ll let him dig into your life.

“I don’t. I haven’t… shit Eddie, I don’t even remember what she looks at. I barely remember her. Just that she left…” You trail off into silence and Eddie follows, not wanting to push you, honestly surprised that you’re sharing any of this with him at all. “I have a brother.”

“I thought you were part of the only child club, like me.” Eddie’s attempt at humor falls flat, so incredibly unfunny Eddie wishes he could rewind time and not fucking say that, and you still chuckle.

“He’s a year younger than me.” You turn your head towards him, eyes simmering. “She had him after she left us. M-my dad used to tell me that she just wasn’t ready for the responsibility of kids and yet she had one almost immediately after she left.”

“Maybe it was an accident.” He offers.

“Maybe she just didn’t want me.” You grumble, leaning into him even farther, hand drifting down to his thigh. Eddie tenses at the contact, breath shuddering in his chest, his heart pounds when you whisper his name and nuzzle into his chest.

You’re vulnerable right now, looking for something to mask the pain, falling into unhealthy habits to cope but Eddie doesn’t want to be a habit. He wants to be yours. And he doesn’t want to fuck around because you’re upset, even the thought feels wrong. So he guides your hand off his thigh back to your own lap and lifts your face by your chin.

“Have you eaten?” He asks softly, swipes his thumb against the hill over your cheek as your lip trembles. You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment.

“Wanna go eat? I’ll pay.” Eddie offers quietly, eyes searching, always searching, for any small hint to how you’ll respond. When you nod silently he beams, leans in and kisses your cheek. “Well come on, then. I’m feeling waffles.”

–

“You come here often?” You ask with a chuckle as Eddie waves at the waitress behind the counter. The older woman smiles at him before going back to the customer in front of her.

“Yeah, I guess. They have the best food in town.” Eddie says, turning his attention to the tabletop jukebox, fiddling with the knobs until he finally picks a song, a soft velvety voice crooning through the speaker. You huff out a laugh as you lean back into the booth.

“Otis Redding? Really?”

Eddie only shrugs but his smile is bright as he crosses his arms across his chest. “I like more than just metal, you know.”

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Eddie Munson?”

He brushes his untamable hair behind an ear at this, looking up at you under his lashes, the faintest of blushes on his cheeks.

“Mornin’ Eddie, how’s your uncle?” The waitress beams as she places two plastic menus in front of you both.

“Oh you know, Pam, always working hard.” She nods at this before her eyes meet yours.

“And whos this pretty thing, you’re girlfriend?” Eddie’s blush deepens till his face is comically red and his eyes widen when you laugh.

“We’re just f-friends.” He stutters out, handing back his menu without even looking at it.

“What a shame.” The waitress tsks, winking at him as she accepts the menu. “The usual than?”

Two sets of eyes lock onto you after Eddie nods, waiting for your order. You didn’t have much time to look through the menu, so you hand it back and say, “I’ll have what he’s having.”

Pam gives a simple nod and a pearly smile as she leaves, the menus tucked under her arm as she welcomes a new customer.

“She’s nice.” You say, smiling at him from across the table and Eddie nods, fingers fiddling with a sugar packet.

“I’ve known her almost my whole life. Uncle Wayne would bring me here all the time when he first took me in. It, uh, kinda became our thing.”

“Pizza fridays.” You hum, eyes cast down to the sticky tabletop, brain racing through memories.

“Pizza fridays?”

“Yeah, uh, when I was little my dad would make the best handmade pizzas every friday. He’d listen to oldies while he would spin the dough, let me pick out whatever toppings I wanted. It was our thing. That and going to the farmers market every saturday.”

“I liked you dad a lot.” He says softly, nudging the toe of his shoe against your leg under the table. “He was funny.”

“He was not funny.” You laugh, meeting his eyes under the dim diner lights. “He told the worst jokes. Oh my god, he used to pick me up from school and he’d sing at the top of his lungs this, uh, Creedence Clearwater song? God, what was it called?”

Eddie laughs, leaning back against the booth seat. “Have You Ever Seen The Rain.”

“Yes!” You stutter out a laugh, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that he somehow knew. “H-how do you know that?”

“I witnessed it once. You pulled your book bag over your head and threw yourself into the back seat. I’d never seen him laugh that hard before.”

“Oh my god.” You mumble as you bury your face in your hands.

“Stop, come back.” Eddie laughs as he tries to pry your hands from your face, standing up over the table to tickle your ribs, you jerk away from his touch, giggles spilling out from your lips. “Quit being embarrassed. Your dad was so cool.”

“He was.” You say after your laughs simper down, sighing heavily. “I know you used to read to him. He loved when you’d spend time with him like that.”

“That man would listen to me ramble about my DnD shit for hours.” Eddie chuckles, looking out the window at the darkening sky; a storm blowing in.

“I’m not gonna see my mom.” You say quickly, looking down when his eyes switch from the thick gray clouds to your eyes. “She doesn’t deserve to make peace with me.”

Eddie nods once, seems to think to himself for a moment, before he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. Your body shivers at his cool touch, calloused thumb rubbing wide circles over the knuckles of your hands.

“I support you in whatever you decide.” He speaks with such assurance you want to cry, not used to such support from anyone other than your father. Eddie looks at you earnestly, his eyes not once wavering as he makes sure you know he’s on your side. Your heart pounds inside the cage of your chest, a strange hotness tingles down your spine and through your fingertips. You want to tell him something… you’re not sure what.

“Eddie, I-” You’re cut off by two heaping plates of waffles, topped with delicious looking fruit, being placed down in front of you. His hand leaves yours and the emptiness you feel at the loss of his touch is overwhelming.

“Here you go, kids. Eat up.” Pam says, bubbly and happy, giving Eddie a raised brow before walking back to the front counter.

“You want syrup, Angel?” He asks with a smile and you nod, allow him to drizzle the amber liquid over your fluffy fruit topped waffles, wishing instead he’d place his hand back in yours.

—

The rain comes down in heavy sheets as Eddie pulls the van in front of your trailer, cutting the lights that cast a yellow glow across your closed curtains, he leans back into his seat.

“Thanks for, uh, you know.. hanging out with me.” You unbuckle your seat belt and turn to face him.

“You’re thanking me?” You ask with a small laugh, turning the knob of the radio until the sound slowly fades to a soft hum. “I should be thanking you, Eddie.”

He shakes his head, trying -and failing- to hide his boyish grin behind his hair. “Nah, it’s the least I could do. I’m just happy you came.”

“Me too.” You lean over a bit to place your hand on his thigh, pinky grazing the skin of his knee through the hole in his ripped jeans. “I like spending time with you, Eddie.”

You watch his entire body tense, his knuckles cracking as he death grips the steering wheel, suddenly unable to look towards you, pensive brown eyes glued to the wet blue siding of your trailer. That feeling is back, the same one from that night almost a month ago when you had him in the palm of your hands. Expect, it feels different now, less vicious, less carnal.

Your need for him is desperate, on a level you didn’t know it could be. You feel possessed as it leads your hand up the warmth of his thigh, the way it has you leaning over the space between the two of you to kiss right under his ear lobe. Eddie bites off a moan a little too late, the beginnings of it floating through the air- and inside your stomach a wildfire rages. You’re merely a puppet on strings to your desire for him, the invisible force too powerful to fight.

“Angel..” He sighs all wispy and you have to clench your thighs together as you run your tongue up the thick cord of his neck.

“Come inside.” You whisper, breath heavy with want, your trembling fingers dig into his cheeks as you turn him to look at you. His breath picks up when he locks onto your gaze, your pupils blown wide, tracing the span of his face. You pull him to you, tease him with a brush of your lips and he whimpers at the feathery touch because he’s been dying to finally kiss you. It’s exactly the reaction you want, and you give into his need with no resistance, kissing the air straight from his lungs as he gasps into your wet mouth.

You’re quick to tangle your tongue with his, licking against the wet muscle as he fumbles with his seatbelt. He’s noisy in the kiss, moaning and groaning as you pull him closer, devour him with your lips and tongue, ignoring the clash of teeth and pain of the arm rest digging into your hip. You’re light headed by the time you pull away, smiling wickedly as his eyes flutter open, his face ruddy, his lips swollen and bitten red. He looks like a work of art and you’re determined to burn this moment into your brain.

“Come inside.” You say again, pushing his hair behind his ear. “I want to thank you properly.”

“Y-you don’t have to…” He starts but quickly trails off, an obvious war in his mind. His gentleman morals cracking at the edges by his wanton need for you.

“I want to, Eddie.” You kiss him sweetly this time, just a gentle peck against his lips that travels to each corner of his mouth. “Don’t make me beg, baby.”

He wastes no time snatching the keys from the ignition, only takes a brief glance at you before he's throwing his door open and escaping into the pounding rain.

You’re both soaked by the time you turn your key in the lock, the trailer dark and quiet as you pull him in after you, slam his wet body against the door.

“Do you want me, Eddie?” You can’t help but ask, slipping your fingers under his shirt to feel the pillowy warmth of his stomach that quivers at your touch.

“That's a stupid question.” He says with fake annoyance, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

His admission has you glowing in the darkness of your home, your smile genuine as you huff a laugh and grab his hand, pulling him down the small hallway to your room. You switch the bedside lamp on as you enter, quickly stripping from your wet clothes as Eddie stands and takes in his surroundings.

“Hey.” You say once you're left in just your bra and underwear, tilting your head when he looks at you. “You okay?”

Eddie blinks rapidly as he realizes you're stark appearance.

“Jesus.” He groans, hand going down to absentmindedly adjust himself. “You’re so gorgeous, Angel.”

You don't expect the way his words render you frozen, the way your heart clenches in your chest. You’ve never felt like this before and it so is a strange sensation. The same feeling you had in the diner when he held your hand and assured you he was there for you.

You don’t want to think about this startling realization -that this crush you’ve harbored for him for years has shifted to something else, something completely foreign to you, something you never felt with Grant- you race to him, pull his body flush to yours as you kiss him with all the passion you can manage.

It is the type of kiss that makes your knees buckle. The kind that awakens the butterflies in your stomach. Eddie guides you to your bed with his hand cupping the back of your head, lays you gently against your soft bedspread.

“So fucking beautiful.” He says, eyes trailing every inch of skin exposed to the chill in your room. You watch through hooded eyes as he slips from his clothes. Slowly. Deliberately, like he’s putting on a show. He shakes his wild hair out as he throws his shirt across the room, his fingers trailing down the alabaster skin of his chest and stomach before he’s tugging at his belt. His hands still shake, his heart racing in his chest, as he fumbles with the button of his jeans.

“Eddie, quit teasing.” You warn, sitting up and grabbing the waistband of his jeans. “Good boys don’t tease.”

Eddie crumbles at your words, literally falling to his knees in front of you. He places sloppy kisses against the skin of your legs, so similar to what you did to him all those nights ago that it takes your breath away. You lay back, propped up on your elbows as you watch him make his way to your aching core.

“Wanna taste you so bad.” He whispers into the swell of your mound, tongue peeking out to lick against the wet cotton of your underwear as he keeps his intense gaze on yours. He kitten licks again, this time with more pressure right where your pulsing clit lays, and you fall back as you moan.

“So sweet.” He says, but it sounds like he’s speaking to himself. “Better than I dreamed.”

“Eddie-” You start to whine but stop when he hooks his fingers into the red lace of your underwear and smirks.

“I fucking love these, you know. Look so pretty on you, my impatient girl.”

He pulls them down your legs in a quick motion, tucking them in his back pocket, before shoving your legs up to your chest. It’s such a vulnerable position, so open and exposed, that it sends a violent shiver through your body.

“Starting a collection?” You attempt to tease him, trying to ease the insecurity that being like this gives you, but Eddie’s having none of it. He’s taken the reins in his calloused hands as he bites at the sensitive skin on the back of your thigh, the sharp pinch has you hissing, and you reach for him blindly.

“Be quiet,” He hums, laying a gentle kiss against your clit. “I’m trying to focus here.”

Your back arches as he dives in, spreading your lips apart with his thumbs as he blankets his tongue across your wet hole. He flicks the tip of it into your opening and groans deep in his chest when your pussy clenches desperately. Your grip tightens around his wrist, your other hand gripping his sheets behind your head like your life depends on it.

He wants to eat you whole, make you feel the way he did when you were on your knees for him in his kitchen. He’d do anything to make you feel just as good, to allow you the euphoria he had felt when you sucked his tender balls into your smart mouth.

He drags his tongue up your slit, teases his way to your neglected clit, only to suck it into his mouth, a crude sound that almost makes you cringe but you don’t have the chance. Eddie suddenly nestles his middle finger deep inside, twisting it until he finds that sweet spongey part inside you, and you fall apart instantly with a choking gasp of his name. Your toes curl painfully, head dug awkwardly into the mattress as your hips leave the bed. Eddie never stops the sinful curl of his finger, his steady sucking of your clit, fucks you through it with pride in his chest and a moan stuck heavy in his throat.

You cry out when the overstimulation starts, head still twinkling among the stars as that snap of heat burns through your core again, a second orgasm hanging by a thread. You feel like you're being dangled on the edge of a cliff, the pleasure of his tongue, that now flicks against you, so close to pain your eyes burn with pooling tears. But you don’t want him to stop, might actually internally combust if he stops.

Eddie seems to sense your desperation as he slips another finger in, the stretch beautifully sharp, it has you dizzy and breathless. A useless mumbling mess as you beg and plead for him, nails scratching rosy red lines across his poor arm.

“Cum.” He demands, voice ragged, locking his deep pupil blown eyes on you as you peer down at him, a hot tear sliding down your cheek. “Cum for me, please, please, please.” His voice falls into a hushed whisper as he lowers his cum slick lips back to your clit. His chant seems to vibrate deep inside you, eyes clenching closed as you cry out.

Your second orgasm hits you hard, harder than you’ve ever cum before. You sob as your eyes clench tight, your hot blood roaring like a freight train in your ears. You feel set aflame as you gush around his fingers, legs kicking free to tighten hard around his head. Eddie lets you suffocate him in your drenched heat, grips the top of your thigh as he ruts his painfully hard cock against the end of your bed, whimpers softly when your thighs go limp as he slows his fingers. Replacing his eager sucks with soft kisses.

“Oh my fucking god.” You cry, your legs weak and limp as Eddie places each of your feet on the floor. You can feel how fucking wet you are, feel the way your cum and his spit drips down the curve of your ass.

“You with me?” Eddie asks gently as he rubs your calves, hides his smug smile in your knee cap because it was him that made you cum like that.

“Mhm.” It’s all you can manage, your body feels weightless, like you could be easily carried away into the fall breeze. The thunder outside fills the quiet of the room, the only other sound is your breathy soft gasps.

“You squirted.” He says and you can almost hear how proud he is, you can feel his big smile pressed against your knee.

“What?” You’ve never done that before.

“All fucking over me, Angel. Fucking hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“I wanna make you do that again.” Eddie grins as he crawls over top of you pressing kisses against your hot, sweat damp, skin. “And again, and again, and again, and-”

Eddie cuts himself off as he kisses you. Slow and passionate, it sucks the air out of your lungs before you’ve even regained it. You tuck your fingers into his surprisingly soft mop of curls, drag him in closer as you savor your taste still on his lips.

“Mhm,” He hums, pulling away from the kiss to press his forehead against yours. “You taste divine.”

“So do you.” You giggle, trailing your finger down his dark happy trail, finger breaking the barrier of his boxers. You grip his hard cock in your hand, slide your thumb against the wet slit of his head, the front of his boxers wet with precum.

Eddie bucks his hips and whines, a broken sound that bounces off your eardrums, and it revs you up. Has you grinning devilishly as you push him till he’s laying flat against your sheets.

“Take your pants off, Eddie.” You say it firmly, surprising even yourself, biting back a laugh as he quickly yokes his pants down his legs, kicking them somewhere across the room before he’s doing the same to his boxers, his cock springing free to slap deliciously against his abdomen.

“Eager boy.” You muse, pulling a condom from your bedside table as you straddle him. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands once you’re on top of him, ripping open the wrapper with your teeth. His hands move from your hips to the sheets below before back to your hips. His eyes glued to your every move as he fumbles through his words.

“I- oh fuck, okay. This is happening. Shit, this is really happening.” He tips his head back with a moan as you slide the latex down his pulsing length. Snags his puffy bottom lip between his teeth. You settle on top of him, nestle his cock right between your wet folds, smoothing your hands over the mangled scar on his stomach.

“Don’t leave me again after.” He says quietly and his eyes go wide; surprised he’s actually said this out loud.

“It’s my house, Eddie.”

Your gaze softens, heart a rabid drum against your ribs. You hadn’t thought leaving like you had that night would hurt him as much as it seems it had, only thought it part of your game. But you're starting to realize the game was lost that night in the back of his van when he stated plainly that Grant was an idiot for breaking up with you. Maybe it went even further back than that. All that time spent observing the boy the town hated so much, all the stolen glances and meaningless small talk at the mailbox.

Eddie Munson had won the game a long time ago, unbeknownst to the both of you.

“I won’t leave, if you won’t.” You offer. A deal. A silent question on if he felt the same.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiles up at you as he says it, chocolate eyes shining brightly.

Silently you reach down to position him at your entrance, slowly inching down his length as your pussy clenches around his thick cock and his fingers bruise the smooth skin of your waist. The stretch is glorious, you can feel all of him -every vein, every twitch, the swell of his tip as he bottoms out inside you pressed tight against your most sensitive place- completely consumed by Eddie.

His name is the only thing you can say, whimpering it hotly as you raise up and slide back down, the feel of him dragging through your walls intoxicating.

“I’m not gonna last long.” He pants, meeting your bounce with a thrust of his own. The pace slow but hard, and every time he hits that place inside you that makes you gasp, you fall further onto his chest until his arms are wrapped around your back. "You're pussy’s too good, oh fuck, jesus christ, so tight and w-wet.”

“Fuck, Eddie.” You nuzzle your face into his neck and he braces his hand against the back of your head, hugging you close to his sweaty body.

“Is this what you wanted?” His demeanor shifts instantly, his thrusts faster and deeper than they were before and his hand comes around to your throat, pulling you up till your face hovers over him. His eyes are dark, darker than you can even believe, and the intensity in his gaze will forever be burned into your memories.

“Is this what you wanted, Angel?” He asks again, nearly hisses through his clenched teeth. “To ruin me for others? Because I am. I’m fucking yours baby. That’s what you wanted, right?”

You gasp brokenly when his fingers find your clit, working you quickly to the edge of your third orgasm of the night.

“Answer me.” His voice sonorous, his hips frantic as he presses his heels into the mattress to fuck up into you more earnestly. He’s so close. So close that his vision is starting to haze, his balls tight as they slam against your cheeks, but he won’t cum.

Won’t cum until you finally fucking say it.

“Eddie…” You whine, eyes rolling back into your head as you teeter on the edge of bliss.

“Just say it, Angel. Say it and you can cum.” He rasps out, his fingers dance against your clit in heavy circles and its too much and not enough at the same time. You’re desperate to cum -desperate to finally come clean- and you slam his hand that's around your throat into the sheets above his head. Crash your lips against his in a messy clash of teeth and tongue but its so good. Beautiful, breathtaking, perfect.

Screw the game.

“Yes, Eddie, yes. You’re mine.” You’re voice is laced with possessiveness and Eddie whimpers like an obedient puppy, nodding his head as he echoes-

“M’yours.”

Time seems to slow as you cum, stars in your eyes and this blooming feeling in your heart, and you think you black out. You fall into him as he shouts your name, so cock drunk and thoroughly fucked you can just barely hear him over the ringing in your ears. He thrusts once, twice, before he’s spilling his hot seed into the condom and you can feel that too. Can feel the heat of it as he slows but never stops. Pumping into your used hole until he’s wincing at the overstimulation.

When you float back down to earth, Eddie’s rubbing soothing circles up and down your spine, humming in satisfaction to himself as he waits for you to come back to him.

“Hey.” You whisper with a smile, kissing his neck sweetly.

“You okay?”

“Better. But I am gonna be sore tomorrow. Might have to call out of work.” Eddie chuckles at this, rolling your both onto your sides still wrapped up in each others arms, his softening cock still inside you.

"Yeah, you know, I had a feeling you were gonna be sick tomorrow." He teases, rubbing his nose against your own before placing a soft kiss to your lips. When he pulls back his eyebrows are furrowed with faux concern. "You probably should call out tomorrow, I definitely think you won't be able to get out of bed in the morning."

You laugh, cheeks hot as he winks at you. "Oh, yeah? Is that a threat?"

Eddie shakes his head, his eyes shimmer as they look at you, admiring your beautiful features. He's definitely a goner, in too deep to even think about swimming to the surface. He's chosen to die in the glimmering sea that is you.

"No, sweetheart, that's a promise."

#i finally finished it yall #thank god #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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garbagevanfleet · 3 years ago

Text

LAZARUS (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Jake x female!reader

Word Count: 8700 words in this chapter

Summary: Jake Kiszka is dead. Or....was.

WARNINGS: (in this chapter) extreme portrayal of grief, mentions of contemplating suicide, a lot of talk of death, religious occult shit, descriptions of a dead body, blood (feeding), slight gore due to said blood feeding, me having the shallowest possible grasp on Latin

Editing and moodboard by the incredibly talented Erin ( @gardenvanfleet ) ilysm <3 <3

A/N: Hi! Before we get started here, I want everyone to read the warnings on this fic. It contains some situations that can be extremely triggering, and since it’s a Halloween fic, it is creepy in nature. Read with caution please! I love you all and I’d hate to be the reason someone had a horrible day. Alright, now. On to the feature presentation...

MASTERPOST

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(Please consider listening to this special playlist I made while you read - it really sets the mood )

You had cried until your eyes swelled - until they became itchy and red. You sobbed so hard that your abdominal muscles had become all but useless. Your mouth was dry to the point that it was hard to talk - not that you had any desire to anyway.

Jake Kiszka was one of your very best friends, and he was the first person you’d ever lost.

You’d heard the stupid cliché that the first cut is always the deepest, but that’s not what this was. This was pure, undiluted grief, and it lived in the pit of your chest from the moment you got the phone call that he hadn’t made it out of the coma. It was less than a minute - fifty two seconds to be exact, and most of that time was because you had dropped your phone in shock and it took the lady at the hospital a moment to figure out that you weren’t coming back on the line.

You sat on the tile floor in your bathroom and screamed until your throat was raw, curled in on yourself like you could close yourself out to the reality of it if you could just make your body small enough - like relief was a tiny space you could slip into if you hadn’t been burdened with a skeleton.

Nighttime was the hardest. The moment you’d start to drift off you’d think about the last time you saw him - you’d think about the accident and it would force you out of what measly rest you’d managed to settle down with.

The accident happened on the eighth of August. It was hot and sticky and everyone in town was looking for a reprieve. You and your closest friends had found just that in your favorite local swimming hole. It was picturesque - like a clipping out of a travel magazine, and there was something about being there that was always exciting and youthful.

That was exactly why you’d suggested going there. You had packed a cooler full of beer and soda and met up with the twins at their family house around ten, and you were already in the water when noon came.

It was seven pm when Josh caught you mid-yawn and had made the call that it was time to pack it in, but Jake and his endless chase for adrenaline had pleaded for just one more jump - he knew it might be his last of the summer. The three of you had already been dry for an hour after eating your packed sandwiches at six, so you and Josh had both declined. Josh was easier to persuade, partly because he adored Jake and would have done anything possible to make him happy - it had always been that way. They truly shared one soul and one brain cell, and you were lucky enough that they deeply enjoyed your company.

Once Josh caved, it was only a matter of time before you relented too, but reminded them that the area would be closing soon, so it would have to be an in and out affair. You always joked that being with them was like trying to herd cats or contain a tornado, but you’d become adept at it over the years - they listened to you in a way that made everyone else in their life envious.

It was seven-thirty when Jake was standing at the top of the rocks in just his swim trunks, Josh already having jumped a couple of minutes before. You had decided that you just simply did not want to get wet again, especially when you thought about sitting damp in the car with the air conditioner on full blast because the boys always ran hot, so you sat perched across the swim area on a rock shelf and cheered them on with your attention and presence.

It was nine when the doctor came out to the waiting room. You and Josh, their youngest brother, and their parents all held your breath when you saw him approaching, looking rather bleak in a way that emergency room doctors often did. He informed you, in a very sterile tone, that Jake had slipped into a coma. Their parents had hounded the doctor for more information, even after he’d sternly told them that there was no way to know if he’d ever come out of it. What they had really been looking for was some assurance that everything would be okay - someone to direct their anger at if something went wrong, like the doctor, but there was simply nothing to say that wasn’t a lie.

You stayed overnight at their house, like you so often did, for three days. You couldn’t even entertain the idea of staying at your place alone, and there was a spot on their basement couch that was molded to your form. That’s where you existed in that time. Josh had slept just an arm’s length away, and you both pretended that he did so for your benefit.

It wasn’t terribly long before you realized that you couldn’t stay there forever. They needed to be able to process everything together, and despite them always having included you as part of their family, it simply wasn’t true.

You had paid a co-worker to come and feed and water your cat, and you felt a responsibility to make sure he wasn’t lonely by himself. He didn’t leave your side for days after that and you spent the minuscule amount of extra energy you had petting over his hairless hide as he purred across your lap.

When you finally felt like you weren’t about to crumble into dust, you went to visit Jake in the hospital, and you weren’t sure whether it was a relief or a burden that he didn’t have any other visitors at the time.

Upon first stepping into the room and seeing him lying there - unmoving with his head lolled off to the side - you didn’t think you’d be able to even sit down. However, once you forced yourself into the room you could almost pretend like it was comforting to see him.

You came only one other time, and it was while Josh was there, sitting in a chair that he had pulled up to the hospital bed, close enough that he could gently lay his head on Jake’s unmoving forearm.

It was the fifth of September when you got the news. You had been just stepping out the front door, half of a bagel held in your mouth, when the sound of your phone vibrating in your bag alarmed you enough that you lost the grasp on your house keys. As you ducked to grab them, you dropped your bagel, face down onto your shoe, and let a curse slip. You quickly gave up on both of them in favor of finishing out your phone and when you recognized the called ID as the hospital number, you froze. All you could do was stare at the screen until you were scared that it would stop ringing and forced yourself to answer it. You had been on your way to work, but you darted back into your house after discarding your phone, food, and bag on the front step.

It was the seventh of September when they moved him from the hospital basement to the funeral home. The only Kiszka daughter had been studying abroad and couldn’t get home right away, so the family had decided to keep the body on ice until she could return.

You had plenty of time to go and view the body, but you tried not to think about it until you got a text from Josh asking if you’d gone yet and if you planned on it. You gave him an extremely vague and noncommittal answer so you could put it off for a couple more days. You were well aware that you should be there for him, but you were trying your fucking best.

Your house was out in the middle of the woods. It had always seemed like an inconvenience, but the rent was cheap and it meant not a lot of people came to visit you unless you’d given them a real reason to. It had very old windows and a screened-in porch that you sat in for a few minutes in that time to pretend like you’d gone outside.

In reality, you didn’t step out your front door for a week, and it was only because your mail was literally spilling out of the envelope-style mailbox and onto your stoop.

You were in your slippers, as you always were when you were home - the hardwood floors weren’t well insulated and your toes frequently felt like they were numb. It caught your eye when you bent to pick up a couple of letters from the concrete.

A little book.

You looked at it and instantly felt at ease in a way that didn’t make sense to you, so you scooped it up, added it to your pile of mail, and stepped back inside.

Since it was clearly the outlier in all the envelopes, you decided to open to the front page, just far enough for a slip of paper to dislodge and fall like a feather onto your kitchen floor. You stared at it until you realized it was a pamphlet, and then you crouched down to your haunches to view it.

⚸ Dealing with the loss of a loved one? ⚸

You rolled your eyes and left it lying there on the floor. You didn’t even bother opening the book again - since it had no markings on the cover and came with a flier about dealing with death, you just assumed it was some low-budget religious recruitment tool, so you tossed it onto the kitchen table. The whole ordeal depleted enough of your limited energy that you discarded the idea of going through the mail altogether.

You had been able to smell yourself for days, but you finally decide that you can’t stand it anymore when you reach to slide your letter opener back on the top of the fridge and catch a whiff. When you can finally work up the stamina to undress, you stand naked in front of your bathroom mirror and inspect yourself.

There was a scar on your left calf - bright pink from being freshly healed, and your eyes caught on it. It had inarguably needed stitches that you’d neglected to get, but it felt almost fitting that that day had left you with permanent wounds, both emotional and physical.

When your stomach started to twist enough to make you nauseous, you placed your hands on your abdomen. You had to brace yourself on the bathroom sink until you felt okay enough to turn and start the shower.

At first, right after the accident, you had actively tried not to think about it. Every time you would find your thoughts slipping into something darker, you’d try to blank your mind out - start over.

Then, after a week or so, you fell into a phase of brutal self-hatred. You’d close your eyes when you went past any reflective surface, lest you stare at yourself until you were bawling. You didn’t let thoughts of that day leave your mind, and if - for whatever reason - you found something to make you feel better in the slightest, the guilt ate you raw. You let it consume you and wallowed in it because you couldn’t remember who you were without its looming presence.

Now, you feel like you rest somewhere in between. Depending on the day, you either lean into the grief and longing - let yourself picture his face and remember the smell of him - or you cast him from your head altogether.

When you get into the shower, you let the water run over your muscles - exhausted from unuse - and try to relax. You have one hand braced on the wall, and your head turned down to the shower floor as you let the water run through your hair from the crown of your head.

There’s an odd feeling in your shoulder that comes out of nowhere. It starts as a warm tingle - like having a heating pad pressed against your skin for too long - and it’s borderline pleasant. You let out a hum and lean all of your weight against the shower wall, letting the water hit that spot directly and feeling the warmth bleed into your shoulder blade and down your right arm.

But the muscle quickly starts to go numb with a tingly heat that stacks rapidly until it hurts enough that you reach a hand up to press it over the spot.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting, because the pain is muscular, but you try to crane your head to look anyway. The angle is too sharp, so all you can really see is an untouched canvas of skin.

It starts to dull after a second, and you quickly write it off as your tired body protesting any movement at all, but it’s back seconds later.

This time it feels like someone is holding a lump of burning coal to the spot and the pain is so sharp and unexpected that it forces a pitchy whine from your body. You slap your hand over it and rub firm circles into the spot like maybe you can coax yourself into stopping it, but it doesn’t.

You reach a shaking hand to the faucet handle and crank it as far to the left as it’ll go because it feels like flames licking at your skin, and you’re hoping that the rush of cold water will squelch the burn.

It does not.

The agony intensifies until you are mewling in pain, scratching at the spot like a wounded animal as it buckles your knees. It lasts for only a few seconds, but it overwhelms your senses to such an extent that it feels like minutes of excruciating pain.

When it subsides, it does so as quickly as it had come on, and you’re left shivering on the shower floor. You hadn’t realized you were crying until you have to sniffle back the snot that threatens to spill out from your nostrils.

Once the pain is gone, you snap your hand out to turn the knob in the other direction, but even lukewarm water feels hot on your now-chilled skin. You sit there on your haunches until the muscles in your legs are shaking and numb, and it’s an honest struggle to get yourself standing again.

Somehow, you manage to find the willpower to wash your hair, but it’s completely mindless - like your body is moving solely off of muscle memory. You can’t get your brain off of what just happened. The recollection of the pain alone makes you slam your eyes shut tight in a grimace.

As you’re towel drying, you rub the cotton over your shoulder and jolt as it sends a full-body shock through you. It doesn’t hurt, per se, but it’s such an alarming feeling that you scramble to step in front of the mirror.

You suck in an audible gasp as you take in the reflection, showcasing for you a vibrantly plum-colored bruise, like spilled ink on your skin. Your fingers are shaking when you slowly reach to run them over it, but it doesn’t hurt the way it should. A scowl finds your face as you push into it and feel nothing but the pressure.

It certainly looks like it should hurt. The sight of it makes you feel a bit sick again and you find yourself repressing a gag. There are veins, like blood-red strands of thread, webbing out from the borders of it - as thin as hairs. You’re almost afraid to look away from it, but you have to as you recognize the heat of nausea threatening your throat again.

You try not to think about it while you dress because you don’t have the energy to aimlessly wonder what the hell could have done it to you, so you slip a shirt on and then a sweatshirt over that, like maybe if you put enough layers over it, it’ll disappear. It’s a childish thought, but “out of sight, out of mind” has been a close friend of yours for a month now. The therapist that your parents had demanded you see, lest they stop helping you pay rent, told you that your coping mechanisms were not healthy. Instead of changing, you just never went back to see her - you didn’t have the energy for any kind of emotional metamorphosis.

You make your way into the kitchen and open the fridge to find that it’s exactly as sparsely stocked as it had been the last time you looked into it. There’s a gallon of milk that’s weeks out of date, rotten to the point that the hard plastic has started to swell. You had meant to dump it out a lot sooner, but you put it off and now you know that the smell will be horrendous. You obviously can’t leave it there forever, but you also can’t get past the mental block to fix it, so it waits there for you.

After giving up on finding anything to eat, you grab a glass from the cupboard above the sink and fill it with water from the tap, sipping it down as you stare out the kitchen window. The view is gorgeous - a forest that goes on for miles and miles on each side of the property. It had made you a little nervous at first to live so far out of the way, but it was nice - you used to listen to music as loud as you could stand it, and never had to worry about a noise complaint.

You haven’t heard music in a while.

You’re staring out the window, a thousand miles away from your own body when suddenly your muscles tense. The feeling of someone standing with you makes the hairs of your arms and legs stand, so you spin around on your heel on instinct.

But there’s nothing.

No one but Bug, who’s perched up on his cat tree in front of the picture window, sound asleep in the sun. The open floor plan of the kitchen and living room always comforts you, but in that moment, it feels too big. Too empty.

You lean back against the counter and take another sip of water as your eyes instantly land on the pamphlet on the floor. It’s laying there, the deep blue, glossy paper contrasting starkly against the wood floor that’s been worn light over time.

Crossing the room, you swoop down to pick it up and let your eyes fall over the page.

It looks like it came from a hospital waiting room and you’re wondering what passive-aggressive asshole would slip something like this into your mailbox. If they have a problem with you’re handling of things, they should come to you and say so.

Except. You don’t want to see anyone.

The last time you saw Josh was a couple of weeks ago, and since then, you’ve been keeping in a very dubious state of contact through short, choppy messages. At least he seems to be handling this about as well as you are.

_______________________________________________________

⚸ Dealing with the loss of a loved one? ⚸

The tendrils of grief root themselves deeply and often leave one exhausted and overwhelmed. Are you feeling like it’s all too much? Do you want the pain to go away?

Do not consider suicide; there’s a better way.

No living human knows what happens after we die, but your recently deceased loved one does.

Isn’t it time to ask them?

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You read it once, and your brain is so baffled that you have to read it again. And then one more time for good measure.

The other side of it has a picture of a virginal woman, standing stick straight in white robes with her hands posed in the shape of a triangle around her mouth.

“What the fuck?” You’re scowling at the sheet of paper in shocked disgust.

Suicide? Someone thought you were contemplating suicide? The only people that would have any grasp on your state of being would be Josh and your parents, but you’ve not given either of those parties any reason to worry about you ending it.

Then you realize what you’ve just read and turn the page back over to read the line one more time.

“Ask them?” you whisper, your bottom lip starting to quiver in a way that you instinctively conceal with your hand. Once the tears start, you know better than to try and stop them, so you just hang your head, stand by your kitchen table, and cry.

It’s a brush against your hand that pulls you out of it. Remembering the feeling from before - like you weren’t alone - you yelp, causing Bug to jump back. He’s standing on your kitchen table, tail straight up and alert in the air, and when you realize it was just him, you reach out and scratch between his ears. He never lets you cry alone if he can get to you.

He’s trusting and sweet, so he careens into the touch, instantly starting to purr. You listen to it rattle through him and let him comfort you back to a functioning state.

When you get your bearings, you lift the pamphlet to your face again, and then, rolling your eyes, you set it on the table. In doing so, your fingers brush over the book that you’d left there before.

You consider it for a second before picking it up loosely and feeling your skin prickle into goosebumps. Before opening it, you give a frown at the unusual reaction, but you have to admit that absolutely nothing has been usual for a while. You have essentially resigned to the idea that your life will be like living in a prison that has a very tenuous grasp on any one dimension.

You sit with the book on your loveseat and open the first page to see.

Nothing.

The paper is very worn and thin enough that, when you turn a page, it makes a crinkling sound. But there’s nothing on the second page either. Or the third.

You flip quickly all the way through it and find not a trace of anything. It’s frustrating enough that you relax back against the headrest and just stare at the ceiling.

The grip you have on the book is loose, so when your shoulder throbs again painlessly, it causes you to drop it out of shock. You reach your other hand across your body to rub at the spot, but to the same effect as last time - no feeling, so you just continue to stare upwards at nothing.

When your neck gets sore from the angle, you let your head loll to each side, and you catch a glimpse of the book on the floor. The binding is old and broken enough that it fell open, face-up.

This time, when you look at it, there are words. You’re emotionally exhausted enough that you just gaze down at it, not really seeing it until your eyes finally focus.

You bend to pick it up, other hand going to soothe the back of your neck.

Thumbing through it, you get the strangest feeling. It’s like a pleasant throbbing at the very base of your skull that relaxes you enough that you’re no longer burdened with any pain at all, so you decide not to stop.

You open the book back to the first page and see a sketch that’s been worn with time, but you think it’s supposed to be a crude medical diagram of a human heart. The longer you stare at it, the more sure you become - able to pick out the label for each ventricle and artery. That’s all it seems to be though, so you flip the page.

The back of it is empty, but the next page depicts a slightly better drawing of a man holding a short blade over his forearm - the spots where his eyes should be are completely hollow voids. He’s on his knees and staring up at the sky. The image is just disturbing enough that your body feels chilled suddenly. You quickly flip away from it.

The third page is blank with tattered corners.

The fourth is a mess of random symbols that don’t look like anything you’ve ever seen before, overlapping and seemingly haphazardly placed. The black ink bleeds out on some of the lines like the person writing it pressed too hard on a fountain pen.

You hold your finger in the page and shut the book for a second, staring blankly at nothing as your brain gives you its best possible effort to sense a pattern. But you fall short. A nervous, shaky laugh escapes you.

You lean forward until your elbows are on your knees and then open the book again.

It is not at all surprising to find that the symbols on the page have changed completely. They’re now words, though none of them trip a recognition in your brain so you start to dissect each one.

The top line of script seems to be three separate words, followed by three more, and then a third row of three. All of the lines are in a different language.

The first is unmistakably Latin and you quickly type out the words into Google translator. They don’t mean anything when you type them in together, and upon that realization, you bite your lip annoyedly.

You try again, this time typing the first word and translating it.

“Vos - you”

Okay. That’s a start anyway. You repeat the process with the next word.

“Amare - love”

You don’t need to translate the last word to figure out what it says, but you do anyway.

“Eum - him”

You bite your lip hard enough that it hurts at the realization that this book seems to be speaking directly to you, and the thought is frightening enough to threaten tears.

Out of all the things that you should be worried about, all you can think of is why the hell someone would write that so strangely. Google translate tells you that, if you wanted to say “you love him”, you’d write “diligitis eum”, not each word individually. You know that Latin is a tricky language, so maybe the person that wrote it had a tenuous grasp on the language at best? Or maybe they were trying to simplify it for an English speaker?

You aren’t sure but your chest feels like it’s going to burst open.

To confirm your theory, you type out the rest of the contents of the page, sentence by sentence. The phrases don’t translate directly, but you get bits and pieces.

“Deep” “End” “Will” “Cage” “Mark” “Desire” “Body”

Frustrated and disturbed, you flip the page.

The next one is very similar, except it’s the most confusing yet - not because of subject matter, but.

There are real phrases in Latin, obviously printed before a time you can reasonably imagine. But there is also fresh ink.

Not quite so fresh as it was written today, but certainly within the last couple of months. It is the only thing in this book so far that is stark and clear. And in English. You don’t need to translate the Latin because someone has already generously given you the cliff notes, loudly written directly over the original print.

“Take the book” “Give the blood”

“What the fuck?” you whisper, your voice raspy and low. You flip the page again.

More Latin, except most of the page is taken up by a drawing of an obviously dead body. The skin is stretched morbidly tight over the shape of a skull, gold coins rested over the eye sockets. Their mouth is agape, and above it hovers a hand with an outstretched finger, a single pearl of blood about to drip in.

You raise your fingers and swipe them over your lips absently when you realize that your limbs are shaking. Your eyes clamp shut as you try to slow your heart - it’s beating fast enough that it has you feeling flighty.

You wish you could chock it all up to being a sick prank, but you can’t. You have the book in your hand and turn it every which way, just to show yourself that you’re not imagining it.

When your ringtone sounds, you scream loud enough to send your cat tearing across the house in fear, the rapid movement only making it worse. You’re not expecting it because you haven’t gotten a call in weeks, and the thought of having to talk to someone right now makes your gut wrench.

You dig down into the side of the loveseat and fish your phone from the crevice it had slipped into, and when you see that it’s Josh, your eyes well up. The contact picture is him with a wide grin, showing you his teeth - he’d taken it with your camera on selfie mode for that exact purpose.

It takes you a couple of tries to accept the call because you’re vibrating and you can’t seem to swipe all the way across the screen.

When you finally pick it up and bring it to your ear, you simply say, “Josh.”

Your voice cracks and it makes you sound weak, but for the first time in nearly a month, you’d kill to have a hug from him. He does this thing where he wraps you up and squeezes you until it’s difficult to breathe, and usually, it’s borderline annoying, but now...

“Hey,” he replies, his voice flat and scratchy. There’s a long pause. “Do you want to come over?”

You can feel a single tear break the barrier of your bottom lashes and trail down your nose.

“Yeah.” You reach up and swipe it away. “I do.”

It takes you a moment to get ready because you’re not positive you’re coming back to your house tonight, so you make sure to feed Bug and pack an overnight bag just in case. On the ride over, you have to give a weak chuckle at your fortunate luck that he’d call on the day you finally showered.

Because agoraphobia had taken hold of you weeks ago, you sit in your car in the driveway for a couple of minutes, trying to clear your head and will away the anxiety.

Josh knows you better than your own family though, and he knows exactly what’s going on in your head. You hadn’t seen him come out of the house, so when he raps his knuckle against your car window, you jolt.

He gives a genuinely pleased smile to see you, and you instantly open your door and step out. He doesn’t give you the chance to speak, he just slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he scolds in a gentle tone. “Are you okay?”

You know that he isn’t stupid - you’ve been best friends since grade school after they latched onto you because you were the only kid that could tell them apart. You’ve grown together, cried together. So when you nod and assure him that you are, his brows thread together in a deep frown.

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

You can’t stand his chastising tone, so you place a hand on his chest and gently push him back far enough to see his eyes.

“Look, Josh. If I’m being honest, I have a very fragile hold on my life right now, and if I talk about it, I’m afraid that it might crumble,” you admit, voice pitchy as you choke back the emotion.

The look he gives you is pitiful, and it angers you for a second that seems to be doing better than you somehow.

“If you’re going to fall apart, do it here. With me.” It’s a very weak request, but his eyes are so soft and sad that you realize maybe he’s just better at putting the mask on than you are.

After a second, you nod, letting him pull you in again.

☾ ☾ ☾

You had stayed the night, curled up by Josh on the basement couch and it was the best you’d slept in weeks. You must have been so exhausted that you didn’t dream because you wake up with no memory of them at all.

He walks you to your car while the morning is still cool and pecks a kiss against your cheekbone like he frequently does.

“Hey,” he says, wrapping his hand loosely around your wrist when you go to get into your car. You already don’t like the tone of his voice, softer and lacking the fervor he usually speaks with. He’s staring directly into your eyes, so you know the blow is going to be terribly painful.

“Go see him, okay? I think you need it. And I know he’d want you to.”

You can’t cry the entire way home. The guilt sits in your stomach like you’ve eaten a bag of cement, and for whatever reason - it’s the kind of sorrow that’s so deep that you can’t express it. You can only feel it.

When you unlock the door to your house, Bug is waiting for you on the kitchen table. You give him a very weak scolding, picking him up and holding him like a baby in your arms for a moment. You know most cats don’t like being tipped upside down, but he has always loved any kind of physical affection.

You feel a little rejuvenated, which is a gift that the boys used to give you every time you saw them. And you know that Josh is right - there’s no reason you have to do this alone, but it’s always a lot easier to wallow than ask for help. It always will be. Getting better takes work.

By one, you’re contemplating whether or not today will be the day. You keep telling yourself that you’ll go, but every time you think about it, your hands ball up into anxious fists. So you decide you’re going to work on some cleaning and see where that puts you.

The feeling you have all day long is hard to explain. It’s that feeling you get when you’re getting on a rollercoaster - you know the climb is about to happen, and then the drop, and then it’s over. It’s anxiety and an immature eagerness to get to the good part. The part when you can finally breathe again.

You fill the sink with soap and water and scrub dishes in the deafening silence until you decide you can’t take it anymore and you flip on the tv for background noise. You haven’t consumed a single piece of media since the accident, so it’s strange to hear the faux excitement that people put on for the show of it. Annoying.

You’re stretching your sore muscles to tuck a plate away on the top shelf of your cupboard when you hear the television turn off. Not just stop playing, but make that little clicking noise that it does when someone has powered it down.

If it had just been that, you would never have thought twice about it, but with everything else that’s been happening, it has your eyes shifting around the room. The room feels like a void - like no one has ever occupied the space before.

You close your eyes tightly, pursing back a sob that is suddenly threatening to wrack through you out of nowhere.

“Jake?”

Instantly, your cheeks flame in embarrassment. What kind of stupid child believes in this kind of stuff?

Although.

What’s the alternative? That you’re being plagued by delusions? That instead of your best friend haunting you, it’s your sick way of coping with it?

You force back the tears, frowning ruefully at your kitchen floor as you try to calm yourself with deep breaths, and like a gush of warm water, relief washes over you. It sucks the guilt and grief out of every cell in your body and you can picture his sweet face giving you a goofy smile. You know that somewhere, your brain is being sensible, but that feeling is not at the forefront of your consciousness now.

Before you can chicken out, you head into your bedroom and grab your purse, and then practically race to the door. Once you’re behind the wheel, your body won’t let you stop, and you end up in the funeral home parking lot faster than would have been possible if you’d been obeying the law, though you don’t really remember the drive if you’re being honest with yourself.

The calm feeling is coating your skin and absorbing on contact, every movement feeling like a gust of warm air as you step out of the car.

You realize that you’re wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt - not exactly what you would expect someone to wear to view a dead body. He wouldn’t have cared though.

The inside of the building is unfortunate. The carpets are plush and mauve colored and the walls are eggshell white. There’s a small cross on the wall in front of the entryway and real but wilting roses in a glass globe vase on a circular end table. It smells musty and shut-in and it makes your stomach churn to think about why that would be.

Fittingly, it’s dead quiet on the inside, so you step through one of the corridors and into the foyer. The only other time you were here was when your mother’s aunt died - you’d never met her, and it was a formality, but you remember her casket being situated against the far wall with a river of flowers spilling out on either side.

You try to picture what she had looked like there and cut and paste Jake in instead, but your brain blanks it out before you can. Probably for the best.

A very tall, very thin man makes his way out from the back room. He’s wearing a black suit, his grey and white hair slicked back into a formal look. You wonder if he’s here every day, and whether or not this is normal attire for him.

“Can I help you?” he asks pleasantly, standing in front of you with a straight posture.

“I’m hoping I can see my friend,” you answer, and to your deep surprise, it comes out sure and clear.

He nods in understanding. “The Kiszka boy, of course. His family had informed me you’d be by eventually.”

As he turns and starts towards the door he came from, he gestures stiffly for you to follow him, and you find your feet moving almost of their own volition. He leads you down a flight of steps and then through a long hallway to a heavy-looking white door with a single glass panel. After he’s used his key to open it, he steps out of the way and lets you in first.

It’s an uncomfortably sterile space and it’s fucking freezing. You cross your arms over your chest immediately to try and preserve some heat while you eye the series of human-sized cabinet drawers.

Your eyes are on the director when he picks the bottom one on the right and wraps his hand around the silver knob. It looks and sounds heavy as he pulls it open, the metal scraping against itself.

The shape of a man is laying on the slab, a stiff linen sheet over it.

“How long before you bury him?”

The director gives you an uneasy look. “The family hasn’t set a date yet, I’m afraid.”

You hum before flatly asking, “How long can he be in here before his body rots?”

He is clearly trying to maintain his composure, but you don’t miss the way his eyes widen just a bit. “You don’t need to worry about that at all. We’ll be keeping him refrigerated. In negative temperatures, the body can last months.”

You nod at him, expressionless. After a beat, he clears his throat.

“I’ll leave you to it.” The director excuses himself with a curt, skin-deep smile, letting the door shut behind him with a loud thud.

Surprising yourself with your lack of hesitation, you reach out and tug the sheet back. It’s like the actions are almost not your own - you’re too collected and unbothered to care.

And then, suddenly, you’re not.

The special effects makeup that they do on people in movies to make them appear dead is a joke in comparison to the reality of it. He looks like he’s made of wax - cold and still to the point that it seems maybe he’s been carved straight from marble. You had assumed that he’d just look like he was sleeping, but he doesn’t. He’s lifeless in every sense of the word. You don’t think about just how important it all is - how all the tiny movements your body makes naturally are what makes a person look alive. How your eyes dart underneath your eyelids when you sleep, and the subtle rise and fall of your chest with each intake.

Whatever had come over you before is gone now, leaving you feeling hollow of everything but a deep dread. Your eyes start to burn and you realize that you haven’t been blinking.

You haven’t been breathing.

It’s instinctual when you lift your hand to try and touch him, but your movements freeze as you suddenly realize how it’ll feel on your fingers. You go to stuff your hands in your pockets when you brush against something sticking out of your purse.

You don’t have to look down - you know exactly what it is. The corner of the little leather book is poking up just enough, and your breathing falters when your eyes land on it. You had intentionally left it in your living room, stuffed in the very corner of your couch with a pillow over it.

A sob forces every muscle in your body to tense as you pluck the book from your bag and hold it up in front of you.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” you snarl desperately, and it takes everything in you to keep your frantic voice down. You shake it roughly in both hands like you can beat some sense into it, but nothing happens except the room is briefly filled with the sound of its pages fluttering.

You still when you realize that you’re going to have to open it, but you’re despondent. There’s no energy left in your body for anger, you’re now just deeply buried in sorrow. You should stick the book back in your purse, leave immediately, and whip it into a ditch on the drive home.

But you know you’re not going to, and so you don’t lie to yourself - there’s no use pretending now. Instead, you use both hands to open it after making the effort to slow your erratic heartbeat, only to find that the pages have changed again.

The first page says “vos amare eum”, over and over - it fills the whole sheet. You read over it and feel the words filling you until you’re bloated with them. Your throat is constricted as you try to choke back another sob, your bottom lip quivering pathetically.

The second page is blank on the front but on the back, it seems to just have some little maroon droplets. They shift like clouds in the sky as you stare at them, like they exist somewhere between reality and your imagination - but then again, you think maybe all of this does. You hold the binding open with one hand to press your finger against one of the spots and slowly moves away from your touch.

Just to see what will happen, you flip to the middle of the book and land on a page that feels a little thick.

There’s a pressed flower stuck to the paper and the sight of it instantly forces your eyes to well up. Hot tears spill down your cheekbones as you delicately pick the flower out of the book and turn it over in your fingers. It’s a tiny, white, lacy little thing - fragile and about the size of a fingernail. It looks like something you’d pick if you were sitting in the grass on a summer day.

You set it gently next to him on the metal slab and stare at it for a long moment.

The choice is not an easy one to make, but the time to decide is at hand, and no amount of thinking it over will help anything now. You have no idea what’s going to happen, but you’re so deep in the throes of your grief that you wear it over your shoulders like a weighted blanket. You hadn’t been feeling a thing on the drive, but all it had taken was a look at him - standing in the presence of the carcass that was once a man you used to cuddle up next to you during movies.

The path feels fated, so you lift your purse up and dig through it, nudging stuff out of your way until you find a metal nail clipper. You stare at it in your palm before zipping your purse back up and letting it drop to the floor without a care for where it lands or what spills from it.

His lips are ice cold when you finally work up the courage to brush your shaking fingers over them with a featherlight touch. They aren’t as stiff as you’d been expecting, so when you tug his bottom lip down with the pad of your thumb, the dry skin doesn’t give you much of any resistance.

The book never told you how much blood is needed, but you hope it isn’t a lot because the edge of the nail clippers is dull. It’s an odd angle to work with but after a bit of fumbling, you’re able to press the very corner of it into your fingertip, working it in until it breaks the skin. The sting is sharp but more annoying than anything as you open the new wound as much as you can. A bead of crimson blood forms on your fingertip and you stare at it as you realize what the hell you’re about to do.

This can’t be okay for your mental health. The fact that you’re even entertaining this instead of checking yourself into a mental facility tells you all you need to know about how well you handle pressure. What the fuck would Josh think? What would Jake think?

Ironically, it ends up being an accident when the little pearl of blood slips from your finger and lands on his bottom lip. You stare at it, wide-eyed for a second, and then make the snap decision to try some more. Why not, since you’re already this far?

You press the thumbnail of your opposite hand into the puncture wound until you draw a larger bead, and then swipe it across his bottom row of teeth. Every brain cell that controls rational thinking checks out as you squeeze the wound, pressing back into it until there’s a tiny trickle of syrupy red, and you let it drip into his mouth. Even though it’s only slightly ajar and you can’t see his tongue, you manage to somehow not waste a drop, and by the time your wound has clotted, his teeth are stained scarlet.

While you wait for something to happen, you hold your breath until it starts to burn your lungs. You have no idea what to expect, but what the fuck would you do if he did wake up?

You stand there, unmoving, and the longer you wait for something to happen, the looser your grasp on sanity becomes. When you’ve burned through all the lucidity you have left in your body, you begin to shake. A loud and uncontrolled sob rips through your chest and you have to brace yourself on the metal slab so your legs don’t give out on you like they did in the shower. You have to purse your lips together as tight as you can without it being too painful, because you can’t prevent yourself from yelling. The barrier of your closed mouth only muffles it so much, but the sound makes you grimace.

Eventually, you cry yourself out, and when you have no more to give, your shoulders finally slump. You slowly correct your posture, standing on your own again as your tired body protests. The skin on your wrist comes back soaked with tears after you wipe it across your face.

When you finally blink away the blur on your vision, you glance at him again and reach to pull the sheet back a little further, exposing his bare chest. You run your fingers over where his heart is - or was, but you don’t want to think about that.

Directly in the center of his sternum, you place the flower, pressing it against the stiff skin with your thumb. It crumbles a little under the pressure, but it doesn’t matter anymore - it serves its purpose just by existing there.

You shut his mouth again, though it doesn’t stay exactly how it had been before, and then you use the hem of your shirt to dab away at any of the visible blood when it’s closed.

“Jake, I love you,” you try to say, but it’s breathless and crackly from the recent overuse of your vocal cords. “You’re my best friend and I love you so much.”

When you finally feel like the grief isn’t pulling you into the tile floor, you don’t wait around any longer - you tug the sheet back over him and grab your purse from under the table. The disgusted sneer that you give the book when you pick it up is venomous. There’s a deep, white-hot rage burning in you for it. You consider leaving it but instead, you snatch it into your hand and shove it deep into your purse lest anyone else find it.

Luckily, the director is nowhere to be found when you make your way up and out of the funeral home, and when you get back into your car, you let the door slam closed. You open the book with such force that you’re shocked you don’t rip it, but - just as you suspected - it’s completely blank.

On the drive home, you decide that you’re going to burn it - you’ll take it outside, douse it in oil, and then let the fire consume it until it’s nothing. The ash of it will return to the Earth and hopefully finally be useful in some way.

Then you’ll be able to get it out of your head and move on with your life. You’re going to move on if it kills you.

By the time you get home, you’re absolutely exhausted. Every muscle in your body has that warm, numb fatigue that you get after working out and you sarcastically pat yourself on the back for having a mental break so violent that it feels like you’ve run a triathlon.

Bug trots down the hall toward you, chirping to show you he’s pleased that you’re home. You’d bend down and scoop him up, but you can’t seem to find the energy, so you just click your tongue at him a few times - your mutually recognized sound for him.

He happily follows you to the bedroom, where you push the elastic of your pants off just enough to let them fall. It’s more of a struggle to step out of them than it should be, so when you finally make it to the bed, your body just drops forward onto it.

Instead of crying like you want to, you use the minuscule amount of life left in you to shimmy up until your head reaches the pillow. While you lay - face down - on the comforter and stare at nothing in particular, your vision goes blurry. After a second, you physically cannot stop your eyes from slipping shut.

Bug is a very light cat, but you can feel it when he hops up onto the bed and cuddles against the crown of your head on the pillow. The final sliver of consciousness you have, you use to note how comforting the vibration of his purring feels against your skin.

____________________________

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starsscribble · 3 years ago

Text

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

“Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes.

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road.

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief.

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat.

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick.

Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on.

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead.

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young.

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive.

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him.

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face.

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick.

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder.

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine.

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken.

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together.

The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know.

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids.

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home. Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit.

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion.

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind.

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended.

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time.

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed.

He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world.

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

#walking dead #walking dead imagine #walking dead x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes angst

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szasfuckingwife · 3 years ago

Note

Can you do the TR boys finding out you’re pregnant with Chifuyu and Baji?

Tokyo Revenger boys finding out you’re pregnant

(Chifuyu and Baji edition)

Baji and you were in a stable relationship.

‘relationship’ you guys were practically menaces to society.

Never taking things seriously and living everyday to the full.

Like that time he accidentally broke his arm whilst dancing with you?

The point is, Baji is a care free kind of guy.

And so were you. Until that day.

You came home from work one night. Baji was sleeping and you didn’t want to wake him up.

But then a nauseating feeling caused you to rush to the bathroom. You expelled your vomit inside the toilet, not quietly either.

Baji woke up to the noise you were making and instantly was by your side, making sure your hair didn’t touch the vomit.

“Uhh..’sup with you?” He asked.

“I dunno. Probably a stomach bug.”

He hummed in response, not believing it was just a stomach bug. But he helped you clean up and cuddled you as you slept.

That’s how the next few days went. You woke up needing to vomit. Baji helped you clean up. You guys resumed your day.

A baby was 100% out of the picture seeing as you weren’t financially stable for one. Baji and you just couldn’t afford it.

Imagine his shock when he comes home to you on the ground passed out.

Baji being Baji thought it was a prank at first but then he saw that you weren’t breathing.

“Oh shit…” He muttered before he dialled 999.

Long story short, you’re not dead, leaving Baji relieved.

But the doctor did tell you that you were 5 weeks pregnant.

That’s when Baji felt like fainting.

When the doctor left, the room was filled with silence. Baji didn’t look at you nor did you look at Baji.

“So…you’re pregnant…” he began.

“Yeah..”

“Are they sure it’s not like..food? Maybe they thought that burger we had last week was the baby’s head-"

“No, I’m pregnant. The vomiting, the fainting? C’mon, Keisuke.”

Honestly, you felt like crying. You weren’t ready for a baby. And neither was he. You just had never thought of it before.

But Baji held your soft hands, catching you off guard.

“Hey, look at me.”

And you did.

“We’re in this together. We can do this.”

That’s when you finally broke down in his arms. You rarely shared emotional moments like this because everything was just fun.

But here you were. Both of you, together.

“Don’t go snotting all on my hoodie, yeah?”

You giggled even through the tears.

In conclusion, Baji is 7.5/10 when it comes to parenting. As soon as he saw your child, he made sure that both of you were his top priority. Of course every halloween, you guys would dress as vampires (thanks to the sharp teeth that’s apparently a thing in his family) Your child has his energy too, constantly everywhere all the time, sleeping at 2am. Oh and money? Wasn’t an issue. Both of your parents helped out tremendously. Baji can only smile nowadays.

Okay, we all know Chifuyu is a real softie at heart. Through the menacing stare and the deadly fights.

He was still your baby.

Let’s just say the way he acts towards you would have the whole gang teasing him.

But he didn’t care.

Your relationship was like that for 7 years, where both of you saw each other graduate, get first jobs, buy an apartment.

Life was going pretty well. You even bought a house together.

Chifuyu always talked about how your children would look. Whether they’d have his emerald green eyes or your perfect smile.

He was such a family man, you could tell.

Then it happened. Your period was 3 weeks late and the back of your brain was telling you to get a test.

You bought 5, just in case.

And all of them read the same. Pregnant.

You were so so happy. You were imagining how he’d react too.

So you set up the perfect little date night for him to come home to.

“Hey, babe.” He said as we walked through the door. “What’s that smell ?”

“Peyoung Yakisoba, and some steak, some soup.” You smiled at him as you tried to light the candle which was too stubborn to work. He laughed at your effort and motioned for you to hand it to him.

And just like that, he successfully lit the candle.

“Whatever.” You shrugged.

Chifuyu felt weird during the dinner date. He kept noticing how you were never drinking the expensive champagne that you loved. And how you blanked out most of the time.

What was even weirder is how you poured orange juice for yourself.

He raised his brow at you.

“It’s healthier.”

He shrugged at that, I mean, you were right.

“Matsu, come look at this cute cat I saw earlier.” You passed him your phone. The plan was finally happening.

He smiled at the picture, commenting on how adorable it was. He just kept swiping for more pics.

But then, his face dropped.

“Is…Is this real..?” He said pointing at the screen.

“Is what real?”

He showed you a picture of the test you took earlier. ‘Pregnant’ in bold.

“Oh? I don’t know. Maybe check in the bathroom..” you hinted, trying to hide the smile on your face. Instantly, he rushed to your bathroom, you followed him.

He looked at the sink then back at you with the widest smile you’ve ever seen and tears in his eyes.

“You’re lying…” He said.

“I’m not.”

“This is real?”

“Yes!” You chuckled. He laughed and held his head.

He quickly pulled you in for a hug, sobbing on your shoulder. Tears left your eyes too.

“Thank you so much, [Y/N]. I’ll be the best dad. For you. For our child.”

Chifuyu 10/10 dad. Knows exactly what he’s doing at all time. He researches everything before the birth of your child. The cribs already built, the room is decorated and everything was going fine. And then, the doctor finds two heartbeats.

Twins.

He makes a new crib and prepares everything, this time, rejecting any of your help.

Matsuno is an amazing father, he helps your kids know the value of life and always tells them how proud he is of them, and that he loves them.

[I’m so sorry if this was bad and out of character for them, I’m not a huuuuge fan of the boys but I love them both of course 😩✌🏾]

#tokyo revengers #baji keisuke #baji x reader #tokrev baji #baji fluff #baji x you #baji keisuke x reader #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #tokyorev chifuyu #chifuyu hcs #chifuyu fluff

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bratkook · 4 years ago

Text

girls like you. (m) kth

‘swear to god she's a blessing and a curse, should’ve learned from you’

pairing. taehyung x reader genre. smut, some plot (not really) word count. 26k warnings. three separate smut scenes: masturbation in a public bathroom, handjob, exhibitionism on a bus, tae creeps on oc’s nudes, brief mentions of oc being a sex worker, dirty talk, messy sex, praising, grinding, pussy job, cum swallowing, overstimulation, forced orgasms, oral (m. receiving), fingering, begging, use of sex toys (hitachi), color system, use of safe word (yellow not red), crying, edging, choking, cockwarming, oc is very much straight forward and ‘in charge’ but def not a dom summary. girls like you were the ones he desired from afar. girls like you weren’t the girls you take home to mother. girls like you knew the power they had over a boy like him and fuck, did he love it. note. this is a reupload of an older story that i took down to be re-edited. it’s essentially pure filth with some plot and it’s mostly an excuse to write something where Taehyung is a little submissive compared to the reader. also 100% inspired by the song girls like u by blackbear. please let me know your thoughts on this thank u ilysm !!

The daily commute from his home to university was always long and boring to put it simply. The monotonous routine was something he could do with his eyes closed. It started the same every morning, waking up with sleep still heavy on his lids, grabbing a quick bite to eat from the convenience store by the bus stop, and waiting in the differing degrees of weather until the hunk of metal creeped up the street.

There was one plus to dragging himself out of bed at the ungodly hour of five am in order to catch the bus on time—really why did he ever think choosing morning classes was the way to go—regardless, the blessing came in the form of a near empty bus the second he stepped on.

Considering he was one of the first stops for this route, he’s lucky enough to always snag a seat. It's the same seat every time and he’s almost positive the regular riders knew this by now. Snagging a seat meant he could tuck his headphones in, rest his head against the window of the bus and pretend the way his head bounced back from the potholes wasn’t killing the last remaining brain cells he had.

What difference would a few brain cells be in the grand scheme of things? He couldn’t care less, always more focused on whatever was on his phone. The brightness was dimmed to an appropriate setting to not burn his dry eyes, strands of hair covering his face as he looked down at his lap, fingers scrolling robotically through his instagram feed and then switching over to his twitter.

It must have been a sign from god that made instagram crash that morning, causing an influx of annoying ‘is instagram down for anyone else or just me’ tweets that made him roll his eyes and choose to lock his phone and lift his head up from its permanent downcast position. He was getting a mean case of tech neck anyways, rolling his head and shoulders to release the awkward tension lingering in his muscles.

That’s when he noticed the eyes staring right at him. Had he looked up more often he would have known that those exact eyes had been watching him intently for weeks now, sitting and hoping he would eventually look up. He’s half expecting you to look away, embarrassed by being caught blatantly staring at him but instead, you tilted your head slightly and gave him a sly smirk, almost as if you’re taunting him to look away. And that’s exactly what he does, his eyes darting away and apparently his whole head wanted to follow, ramming against the window with a nice whack.

Great. Good going man.

He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, refusing to look up because he could just picture you laughing at him. Hell, maybe you were recording him with the purpose to post once instagram decided to get it’s shit together. With that in mind, it didn’t take much debating before he decided that repetitive tweets were more entertaining than making eye contact with you again, unlocking his phone and beginning the endless scrolling once more.

The long ride allowed him to eventually push his embarrassment aside, eyes lazily skimming the words on his screen, not digesting anything he’s reading. It’s not until the bus jolted forward at his stop that he took a chance and looked over at you quickly, noticing you were already up by the front, waltzing out of the doors before he could even get himself up from his seat.

A double take out the window confirmed that he was in fact at the university bus stop, hastily shoving his phone into his pocket and hurrying off the bus before the driver could get annoyed at his slow pace.

Your silhouette was slowly disappearing through the crowd of other students and he had to snap out of his small daze once he lost you entirely, shrugging his shoulders at the odd encounter before making his way towards his first class of the morning.

His university is pretty large, the amount of students here bordering on absurd and it’s the main reason he chose to take the bus to school instead of driving because the parking lot is literally hell on earth. With all that said, he still couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen you before this morning. Had you always taken that bus with him? Also, how long had you been staring at him? Maybe it was just today, but fuck, did that mean he had something weird on his face...or maybe his hair looked jacked up in order for you to just stare.

“You good?” The sound of Jungkook brought him out of the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, coming to a screeching halt and settling back into the dust as he came back to reality. Once his eyes finally focused back in, he realized he’s been staring at some random girl a few seats down with a zombie like expression. No wonder she was now giving him a bizarre look.

“Fuck.” Too embarrassed to even attempt to apologize to his classmate, he averted his eyes and looked to his left where Jungkook sat, a concerned expression on his face as he took a giant bite out of his oversized breakfast burrito. “I’m good.”

Jungkook gave him a once over, narrowing his eyes as he chewed his food, a bit of egg lingering by his lip. “Bullshit.”

The look of disgust on Taehyung’s face was very evident, so Jungkook could only smile before taking yet another massive bite out of his burrito, making an absolute show of chewing the meal.

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook laughed, blowing his friend a kiss before properly chewing and taking a gulp of his water. “You sure you’re good Tae? You were staring into the fucking abyss or something earlier.”

From first glance he definitely looked like he was really thinking about some deep rooted issues. His body had been slightly hunched over his desk, eyes zoned out on that poor girl but his mind was elsewhere. An array of emotions had played out on his face, features contorted into different forms of distress as he had a mental conversation with himself. So when Jungkook walked in and saw him in that state he just had to make sure he was alright.

“I’m fine, just had a weird morning is all.”

The next morning started off the same as always. Taehyung only had two morning classes today so he stayed in his sweats and hoodie, stopping by the convenience store to grab something to eat before getting to his bus stop.

It was routine: his feet dragging along the sidewalk and coming to a halt beside the bench, mind still heavy with sleep, until a flash of a memory pops in so quickly it made him wince.

That’s when he was reminded about you.

You had left his mind after his first class yesterday, the stress of assignments taking over the part of his brain that was curious–and a little embarrassed–about your interaction. All that occupied his day was finishing that essay for his biology class, facetiming Jimin who needed help deciding between shirts before his date, and now the kimbap he currently had in his hand.

But as he sat at the bench waiting for the bus, the only thing repeating in his mind was him smacking his face against the glass so hard his brain rattled, and unfortunately, his breakfast didn’t seem as appetizing anymore.

When the familiar hunk of metal pulled up in front of him he couldn’t help the small feeling of nerves bubbling up in his stomach. He felt a little stupid, how one situation was making him overthink little things when for all he knew you’ve been riding the same bus for months.

He shuffled down the aisle after swiping his bus card, head staring at the floor because he was a little scared to look up and see you on the bus already. Thankfully his usual seat was unoccupied—the last row at the back right next to the right window—so he made a beeline right towards it.

Crinkling from his pockets filled the quiet bus as he finally settled into his seat, setting his backpack onto the floor right between his legs. Moving slowly in order to not draw attention, his hand reached in and pulled out the kimbap from his pocket, peeling it open and taking a bite off the corner. His eyes took a peek up, cautiously drifting over the few passengers on the bus with him and noticing that you weren’t on the bus yet.

Okay, my stop is before hers.

Taehyung’s body instantly relaxed into his seat, a small sigh leaving his lips. The creeping feeling of embarrassment faded away now, allowing him to fish his phone out of his pocket as he enjoyed his breakfast, fingers tapping as he scrolled and liked the occasional picture on instagram.

Considering it was a Wednesday morning all social media was pretty dead, so once he got to the end of everything, he locked his phone and just stared at the scenery blending together.

Before he could fully zone out, something made his nerves light up. A small burning sensation coming from his left and he had an inkling of what it could be. Carefully, he lifted his head away from against the window and let his eyes travel over to where he just knew you were sitting.

Yup. There you were. A few seats closer than last time, sat in one of the single seats facing the aisles, staring right at him. His eyes trailed down from yours and couldn’t help but stare at the small bit of cleavage you had showing in your low cut shirt. A gold charm was resting between your boobs, cursive letters spelling out what he could only assume was a nickname.

He only realized he was blatantly staring at your tits when the sudden movement of your hand coming up brought him out of his stupid fuckboy trance.

To be honest, he was expecting you to move your hand to lift your shirt up or flip him off, he wasn’t expecting you to tug your shirt down a bit further and lean over, placing your chin on the hand that was resting on your crossed leg. His wide eyes drifted up to your lips, seeing the gloss shining off of them, showcasing the little smirk you had on.

You were taunting him, seeing if he would look away this time or not, and surprisingly he hadn’t. He wasn’t looking at your boobs now though, his eyes were zoned in on your lips and the occasional pink bubble you would blow with your gum.

Deciding to take it a small step further, you leaned back a tiny bit and let your fingertips graze the top of your chest while maintaining your gaze on him. That was when his eyes shot down to your chest once more, seeing the heart outline tattoo on your pinky before quickly looking around the bus at the other riders who weren’t paying you any attention.

When he finally got the courage to look directly at your eyes you just gave him a wink before leaning all the way back in your seat and deciding you were done with whatever the hell that was, leaving Taehyung sitting in his seat, slightly sexually frustrated and a little confused at how something so simple could rile him up.

When the bus jolted to a stop in front of the university you hopped up from your seat and headed off to your class with a hop in your step, satisfied with your little game. Taehyung could simply watch with a dumbfounded expression, immediately standing up from his seat and awkwardly holding his bag in front of him to try to hide his junk as discreetly as he could.

This was embarrassing. Why was every encounter he’d had with you this far ended in him feeling embarrassed and you feeling accomplished?

Little did he know that’s how the majority of your encounters would go. The bus ride to school was now the leading cause of his blue balls and the highlight of your rather boring morning. He had now started to see you around school more often, whether that was because he was now looking out for you or purely coincidental, he wasn’t sure but he was certain you were taunting him. Especially with the outfits you would wear. They weren’t vastly inappropriate, but it seemed like every pair of shorts got a little shorter and every skirt a little tighter.

Obviously he knew he probably wasn’t the only dude who was on your radar, so it was a little self centered to assume you were doing this just to him, but it was definitely affecting him to the extent of his friends asking him what the hell was on his mind.

“Honestly dude, what’s your deal?”

“Hm?” he questioned, one hand on the lid of his coffee cup while his eyes stared at the table they were currently sitting around in the nearby coffee shop. Taehyung had been zoned out the entire time his friends had been talking about the upcoming party at Seokjin’s fraternity later this week. His mind just kept repeating the scene that unfolded on the bus earlier that morning with you, a skirt that was too short, and the way you let him catch a glance of your underwear when you accidentally opened your legs too wide when you went to cross them over.

“Like, what porn are you watching that constantly has you in a daze?”

“Yeah, send us a link or something!”

Taehyung frowned at his friends' comments, although they weren’t really too far off. He might not be thinking about porn exactly, but his thoughts were far from pure regarding you.

Jungkook was cackling obnoxiously as the rest of his friends cracked jokes about Taehyung being a porn addict, and honestly it was a shocker they hadn’t been asked to leave from the sheer volume coming from the group. Add the vulgar topic of porn to the mix and it was only a matter of minutes before the cute barista who had a huge crush on Yoongi would come over and shyly ask them to keep it down.

“Shut up,” Tae grumbled out, hand abandoning his coffee cup and aggressively rubbing his eyes. It was almost like he was trying to scrub the thought of you out of his mind like a dirty stain on his clothes.

Namjoon was the one who suddenly gasped like a child finding change on the floor. “Fuck, it’s not porn is it?”

That caused a couple of confused grunts to come from around him, choruses of ‘well if not porn then what’ and ‘no way don’t you see the difference in buffness between his arms he’s totally addicted to some weird shit.’

Taehyung sat up a little straighter, a small look of curiosity on his face as he glanced at Namjoon. Yes, his friend was the genius of the group in every sense of the word but he couldn’t have possibly figured it ou— “Who’s the girl you’ve been literally fantasizing over for weeks?”

Fuck.

Whoops and hollers were the next sound of choice from his immature friends, Hoseok going as far as violently shaking his shoulder while everyone teased him and that’s when Eunha finally walked over very timidly.

“Hey Yoongi.”

Yoongi glanced up at the sound of his name, his smile growing a little softer when he noticed who it was coming from. Everyone knew she had a crush on him—including Yoongi himself—so they always tried to be as nice as possible to her. “Hey Eunha.”

She tucked a piece of her short hair behind her ear, her eyes drifting to everyone around the table before landing back on Yoongi. “Sorry, my boss is just saying you guys are being a little too loud and I don’t want him to kick you guys out so,” she pressed her palms together gently. “Could you guys just bring it down a tiny bit?”

“Shit, yeah. Sorry about that. We’ll keep it down, thanks babe.” A small blush tinted her cheeks at the pet name and she was only able to mumble out a meek okay before she scurried off with a giant smile on her face.

All of them watched her round the corner and slip into the employee only backroom, smiles on all of their faces until the door swung shut, and then they were back to all eyes on Taehyung.

“So, who is she?” They all inched in a little closer at Jimin’s question, acting like fucking vultures, desperate for any bit of gossip Tae was willing to spill. They couldn’t be blamed though, they had witnessed their usual charismatic friend go from flirting with random girls and throwing jokes here and there to basically sitting in class in a weird zombie-like trance. But those were only the days where he had morning classes, so they just needed to find the connection between it all.

“Just some girl I ride the bus with to school.”

There was a beat of silence before Yoongi spoke up. “Okay, so ask her out?”

Now how was he supposed to come out and say that you and him had never really spoken, and he didn’t even know your name and you didn’t know his, and the only interactions you’ve had were very sexual in nature, but you’ve also never physically touched each other? He was stuck, only able to chew on his lips in thought, but luckily his friends took that as a cue to encourage him.

“Yeah man, ask her out or something! Especially if she’s got you this strung up.”

He wanted to laugh, really he did, but he also realized that he really didn’t have anything to lose when it came to approaching you. If he approached you and it didn’t go in his favor then he could just move on with his life. Pretty simple right?

That was how he found himself bolting up the second you did the next morning on the bus, standing a few feet behind you as the bus pulled up to the stop. You had chosen to simply stare at him every now and then during this particular morning, extremely PG compared to the other rides, so he thankfully didn’t have the majority of his blood rushing to his dick today. Because of this, he was hopeful he could actually say some words to you that didn’t make him seem like an asshole.

You stepped off the bus quickly, your heeled booties clicking against the steps and landing on the concrete smoothly, whereas his vans thumped the whole way down with a lot less grace in his haste, but he was able to catch up to you nonetheless.

He didn’t want to shout out your name because well, he didn’t actually know your full name aside from the cute charmed necklace you constantly wore, and what better way to garner more creepy points than to make it clear he stared at your tits. So he chose to jog up to you and place a hand on your shoulder, making your body come to a halt, but it was almost like you were expecting it with the half smile that graced your face.

“Hey, what’s your deal?”

Nice first words Taehyung.

You raised a brow at his remark, arms coming to cross under your chest as you watched him with clear amusement on your features. “My deal?” Your voice had him pausing momentarily, he was half expecting it to sound high and sweet but there was a slight edge to it, the sound a little lower in tone than he had mentally imagined.

“Uh yeah.” He let go of your shoulder and chose to fidget with the black beanie on his head instead, his palms going clammy. “You’ve been staring at me for weeks on the bus.”

You were staring at him intently, watching how nervous he was to even speak to you, not an ounce of shame on your face at being called out. The fact that he was even talking to you had caught you off guard. You weren’t really expecting him to ever say anything at this point since most men would have pounced for a chance to get a word in after the first time they had caught you staring at them.

“Does that bug you?”

“No!” He instantly shouted out, hands outstretched almost as if he was scared of offending you. “I just wanted to know why you…stare?”

You nodded along, your lips turning up at the corners slyly, tongue gently running along the bottom of your teeth as you smiled. “You’re nice to stare at.” His eyes widened at that and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked in that moment. Why did he seem like he was so out of his element?

“And,” you started as you pulled a slip of paper and a pen out of your small side bag, quickly jotting something down before folding it in half. “I’ve just been thinking about how cute you’d look between my thighs for the past couple of weeks, so message me whenever you want.” You reached down and picked up the hand that was resting by his side, your fingers opening his palm and sliding the paper into it before closing it and just walking away without a second glance.

How could you just waltz away as if you hadn’t made him combust internally, calling him cute while slipping in a filthy thought. You hadn’t even cared to get his name before you admitted to wanting to sleep with him, and if this were a frat party and Taehyung was absolutely wasted that’s exactly how he would approach a girl too, but being on the receiving end made him a little unsure of himself.

The tiny folded paper in his palm was spread apart and that’s when he finally learned your actual name, along with your number which was written beside it in black ink and finished off with a heart.

He never got the courage to text you.

Well, not until he saw you on the bus the following morning with a damn lollipop in between your lips. The way you slowly trailed it up towards your lips was just asking for dirty thought to cross his mind.

That was exactly your reason for doing it though, this was like a game for you, he just didn’t realize it and that’s what enticed you to continue it, torturing him slightly since he had failed to reach out to you.

You let the green lollipop rest on your tongue momentarily before gliding it down and letting the tip of your tongue circle around it, seeing his eyes widen slightly at the provocative action.

Taehyung looked around at the lingering passengers to see if anyone was watching whatever this was going down but there was no audience, there never seemed to be one. The only passengers were gathered towards the front, all engrossed in their books or phones so they don’t see the way you swirl your tongue around the candy.

You clearly had the art of seduction down by how quickly he could feel his pants tightening but he couldn’t help it. His eyes were glued on your mouth, the way you were enjoying that stupid sucker was way too sexual and it didn’t help that your eyes were piercing into him. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. With how fixated his eyes were you could tell what thoughts were floating in his mind, especially by the way he shifted in his seat.

Taehyung was currently hating his life with all he had in him for wearing sweats, gray sweats to top it off. Those are surely going to show the nice outline of his half hard dick when he gets up.

He really should look away from you but every time he tried, flashes of you between his legs would entice him to keep staring. There has never been a moment where he felt more like a pervert than right now and he almost felt ashamed to be watching you. Almost.

This was just fun for you, you weren’t dwelling on this as much as Taehyung was. You only ever thought of him when you woke up for class and wondered how you were going to subtly torture him on the commute to school. You wanted to see how far you could take it before he reacted differently, whether that be him approaching you in person once more or finally shooting you a text.

Would he ever make a move on you? It was hard to tell considering he never reached out and what man would turn down an invite for casual sex if he was semi interested. Would he ever tell you to stop? You obviously would, but the way he denied being bothered by you giving him attention just led you to believe he was very much into it.

The subtle shift in his seat also showed you how much he was into the little show you had for him. He had pulled his phone out, tapping on a new message with your name being typed in.

Why are you doing this– he quickly deleted that, the little line flashing as it waited for the next words to be typed out.

Do you enjoy giving me random boners this early– nope delete that too.

The feeling of the bus coming to a stop made him lift his gaze from his phone and back to you, a small wink was shot in his direction before you were standing up and walking your way towards the front of the bus, your lollipop making your cheek bulge out as you let it rest on the side of your mouth. Taehyung just watched you standing there, one hand gripping the metal railing above you as the bus approached the stop. You gave one last glance over your shoulder to see if he had moved before you stepped off the bus, taking the sucker out of your mouth and giving him a wicked smirk before popping it back in and sauntering off to your first class of the day.

Taehyung once again had a boner pressing against the fabric of his pants and he couldn’t help the groan that left him because dammit, this was happening too often. He was tired of having to daydream about nasty shit to get it to go away while you just pranced off satisfied with how you left him.

He hesitated in his seat for a moment, debating whether he should hop off and head back home so he could calmly deal with the current situation in his pants or if he could suck it up and actually focus enough during his first class.

The bus driver looked at his rear mirror and gave him an irritated look, and with that his decision was made for him. Well a compromise actually, he wouldn’t be able to focus in class when all he was thinking about was your lips around his cock and the fact that you admitted to wanting to fuck him, but he also couldn’t leave school entirely because he had a test his next class and the bus ride back to his house and back to school was too troublesome to bother with.

So he was currently headed to the boys restroom in the building his first class was in, a little more pep in his step because he was finally going to fix one of the problems you caused. Did he feel a little shame in him? Yes. He did. But he was currently blocking that out entirely. All he was thinking about was how great the feeling of his hand around his dick was going to be, and that alone was enough to get him to walk just a little bit faster.

He entered the building and climbed up the stairs two at a time, clearly in a hurry but who could blame him. Luckily most classes were currently in session and if someone didn’t have a class they were usually lounging outside or getting coffee nearby so he knew the bathroom would be free of people, proven right when he swung the door open and saw no one inside.

Taehyung walked to the stall the furthest away from the door and deemed it worthy enough before stepping in and locking it behind him. He took a deep breath as he stared at the wall in front of him, having somewhat of a mental debate. Had he really gotten to this point where he had to resort to jacking off in a bathroom stall?

He let one of his palms rub down his face for a moment, but only a moment because he had a problem to fix and right now his throbbing dick was way more important than his morals. So he shrugged off his backpack and hung it behind him on the hook and slid his sweats down along with his boxers, the material bunching together around his thighs.

Taehyung shut his eyes, not being able to stare at the porcelain toilet in front of him as he wrapped his hand around his cock, the feeling making a shudder run up his back. A gentle tug started his motions, his shoulders dropping from finally feeling some sort of relief after the show you had put on for him. The way your pink lips were wet from sucking on your candy made it easy to picture you between his legs, your lips coated in saliva from giving him what he’s sure would be the best blowjob of his life, chin messy as you stuck your tongue out for him.

He could almost feel his hands in between your hair, tugging on your strands as you picked up the pace, so he mimicked it himself, stopping momentarily to spit into his palm to make the glide a little smoother.

Fuck, he really should have texted you, maybe then he wouldn’t be doing something as filthy as this. Maybe—no he definitely would know what this would feel like in real life, but his hand would just have to do.

A groan left his mouth as he tugged on his cock faster now, eyes squeezing shut as he pictured you sucking on the tip of it, your eyes looking up at him in the same piercing way they always did. He’d like to think that you’d deepthroat him, or tease him, maybe even edge him because you definitely liked to torture him. His mind was flipping through a million and one scenarios as his pace sped up, now hunched over the toilet, the hand that wasn’t pushing him over the edge of an orgasm pressed against the wall in front of him.

His hips started thrusting into his hand, joining in on the motion, a whine felt at the back of his throat begging to come out because of how desperate he felt for his release. The pent up frustration he had for himself, and how badly he wanted to fuck you, paired up with his thumb focusing on his tip every time he stroked up brought him to his orgasm. A choked groan left his mouth as his hips stuttered, his hand continuing to stroke himself rather quickly as ribbons of white shot into the toilet. His groans turned into soft whines as he kept up the pace, the tingles he felt on his dick from the oversensitivity felt too good for him to stop, he was way too desperate for this and it was disappointing that it was over. It wasn’t until his hips and stomach continued to twitch that he finally pulled his hand away from his softening dick.

Taehyung leaned his back against the door, feeling the material of his backpack against him as he slumped down. His forehead was sweaty and his chest was heaving from his orgasm but he was content with himself now, mind no longer whirling with thoughts of you and that damn lollipop. He grabbed toilet paper and cleaned himself up before wiping down the toilet seat as clean as he could and flushing the evidence down the toilet.

He secured the strings to his sweatpants once again and stepped out of the stall, standing a little taller, glancing from side to side and letting out a breath of relief that no one was occupying the urinals or stalls. After washing his hands he stepped back out into the halls of his university and headed down the stairs to go sit in the quad to wait for his next class.

You were going to be the death of him. How was it that you had this much power over him and were so unaffected by it? He needed to do something about this, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Taehyung ignored the notifications on his screen from his friends and opened up a new message, typing in your name before staring at the blank thread waiting to be filled.

Taehyung 9:40am : I hope you’re happy with the problem you gave me.

Was that the best message to send? Probably not, but he wasn’t letting himself think about it too much before the spark of courage left him so he tapped send and immediately backed out of the message, choosing to pretend to occupy his mind by reading the texts he got from Jungkook. The typical ‘are you dead’ texts he would send him if he ever missed class, along with a random text from Namjoon asking if he’d made a move on the mystery girl yet.

Taehyung jumped so hard his phone almost fell out of his grasp when it buzzed with a new text from you. His fingers couldn’t move fast enough to open the notification but his smile dropped instantly when he saw your response.

Y/N 9:51am : Who is this?

How should he respond to this? Were you joking?

His lips were pursed as he stared at his screen, waiting to see the three little dots indicating that you were still typing, maybe saying it was a joke but they never popped up so Taehyung decided to be rational and realize that he literally never gave you his name.

Taehyung 9:53am : It’s Taehyung.

Stupid. You wouldn’t know who that was so he went back and started typing another response only stopping when another one of your messages popped up.

Y/N 9:54am :???

Taehyung 9:55am : Boy on bus

He left the messages open, staring at the screen and grinning to himself when he saw the notification pop up under his text, letting him know you had read the message. But when you never replied as the minutes went on, he started to feel a little dejected, so he locked his phone and shoved it deep into his pocket as he tried to go about the rest of his day.

Taehyung liked to think he was a very easy going guy, someone who doesn’t let little things get to him, but that was just him lying to himself. He was relatively chill about 70 percent of the time, but that remaining 30 percent? Oh boy, that was the over thinking, over analyzing, Taehyung.

“Are you okay?” Solji, the girl who sat next to him in his environmental science class asked him. They hardly ever spoke unless they were exchanging notes for upcoming quizzes, but with the way his face currently looked she just had to make sure he wasn’t going through something serious. She tried once more but when he didn’t answer she just shrugged and decided it wasn’t her business.

He had his brows furrowed so deeply there was a small little indent in between them, his eyes focused on the corner of his desk while his mind was trying to think of every reason you hadn’t responded. You could have lost your phone, or better yet maybe somebody had snatched it from you the very second you had read his message. Or maybe, your phone—or his—glitched and you never got the message at all.

Little did he know you were currently sitting in your economics class, tucked away in the back corner with your phone in your hand as the professor lectured with the projector screen on in the dark room. You were purposely ignoring Taehyung’s message, turning your read receipts on just to torture him further.

He had finally messaged you and unfortunately it was not with a invitation to fuck. It did however paint a smile on your face because you knew he was very affected by you from the message he sent.

All you wanted was for him to be more forward. You knew he had jacked off at school, he had to, so why couldn’t he just go ahead and say that. Spice shit up a little and talk about what he was thinking about when he did it. It’s the little things really.

You clicked back onto his thread in your messages, choosing now to respond to him. Your fingernails lightly clicked on your screen as you typed out a response and snickered before hitting send.

Y/N 11:37am : Oh? okay.

Taehyung felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and his heart stopped, eyes widening to the point where poor Solji was once again concerned about his well being. She was gonna ask him one more time if he was okay but his sudden movement had her flinching back and avoiding eye contact as he shoved his hands into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Oh fuck she responded. He thought to himself as he unlocked his phone to see the notification, he opened the thread and read the message, scrolling up and back down almost as if he was trying to refresh the page for more of the message to load because there was no way in fucking hell that’s all you sent him.

But it was. That much was made very clear after a few minutes passed and you didn’t send anything else.

It was almost like Taehyung’s mind was on autopilot. He had finished his test minutes prior, so he shoved his pencil and extra scantron into his backpack before he stood up and practically stomped his way out of the classroom.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle the mystery that was you. It would be very easy for him to just text back and get to know you but this was the 30 percent, over thinking, over analyzing, not chill Taehyung, and that was just not the way he did things.

Not chill Taehyung decided it was appropriate to bail out on his current class as well as bail out on the plans his friends had all made after classes. He decided it was perfectly fine to hop his merry self onto the bus and head on home. The plan was not very thought out, at all, but as he rode the bus home he just knew he would have to do some lurking to find something about you.

While he was doing that driving his mind into the gutter, you were leaving your current class, heading out to meet your friends for a late lunch.

You had your phone held in your hand, almost hoping Taehyung would text back with something a little exciting, but he didn’t. That was fine by you though, he was right in assuming he wasn’t the only guy on your radar and although something about him made you want to pounce on him, if he wasn’t going to act on it then you weren’t going to dwell on it.

“Alright girls so what’s the plan for tomorrow night?” Hani spoke up, rubbing her hands together evilly.

“Be a child of god and go to sleep on time because I have a test the following day.” A chorus of boos followed all around, Sunmi even going as far as tossing a crumpled up napkin at Chungha who only rolled her eyes.

“C’mon Chungha. Just come out for a little bit,” you pleaded, grabbing her hands in yours and giving her the saddest puppy eyes you could muster.

“Ahh, no! You always do this Y/N!” she whined, throwing her head back in frustration. “But fine, only for two hours and I can’t get wasted.”

The three of you cheered obnoxiously, knowing very well that she would end up as trashed as all of you were, but that was a problem for tomorrow night. A problem for tonight however just occurred in the form of a notification on your phone.

You stared at it curiously, it was a notification from your blog that you used on occasion so you opened it up and smirked at what you discovered.

Not chill Taehyung had obviously gone home and did his lurking on you. Nowadays it really wasn’t hard to find anything on anyone considering how open people were on their socials so Taehyung was able to find your instagram with ease, especially now that he had your phone number.

He had scrolled through your feed carefully, seeing group photos with your girlfriends at parties, and an abundance of slightly suggestive selfies. There was one thing that was clear, you definitely had confidence in your body and he admired that.

Instagram only showed him a glimpse of your life and it wasn’t enough for him. Considering Taehyung had an account for every social media made, he knew you probably did too. So he took to a generic search, and even a reverse image search because he was so desperate it was pathetic. But it worked, because one certain photo you had uploaded on your instagram of you in a bikini with your face cut off was also uploaded onto a blog online.

At first glance he assumed it was just a generic porn blog that had reposted your photo, but upon further scrolling he noticed all the photos on there were of the same girl. You.

His first instinct was to exit out of the site and act like he never found it, feeling slightly creepy at what his lurking had uncovered. But the curiosity was eating him alive, so he continued to scroll, seeing simple photos of you in lingerie; never revealing your face or anything else besides your ass and boobs. Along with that were some questions you would answer and with that he gathered that you had quite a bit of fans online.

There was one photo in particular that really caught his attention. The image was a little low quality, showing you with a black heart choker on and a stringy caged bralette that let your boobs pop out, your fingers slicked with something he could only imagine as they pinched your pebbled nipples. The heart outline tattoo on your pinky is what confirmed that it was in fact you in that photo, and that was enough for him to click the heart button on the bottom right to save into his likes for later.

What he didn’t know was that you checked your activity quite often. He also didn’t know that his blog, unlike yours, was not anonymous and had a stupid selfie of him as the icon.

So as he sat in his room and jerked off while thinking about you for the second time that day, you sat in the restaurant and giggled to yourself a little every time he liked a new photo, letting you know exactly what he was up to.

“Are you on that money pile blog of yours again?” Sunmi asked as she chewed on a chunk of butter soaked bread.

“Yes,” you responded simply, taking a sip of your drink and smiling when your friends cheered you on.

“How much have you made with it?” Hani asked curiously, pulling her shirt's neckline out to inspect her boobs.

You thought about it for a moment; you started that blog to help you pay for school and have some left over for yourself and with luck on your side, it took off pretty quickly. While you did post provocative pictures online, they were all pretty timid in nature, so it was only a matter of time before you started getting messages of people interested in purchasing personal pictures or videos.

There were quite a few older men willing to send you hundreds of dollars for simple photos or videos, but the majority of your buyers were people around your age who chose to purchase access to your private account for a monthly fee. It was always funny to you how some of these people went to your school and either had no idea it was you, or chose to pretend they didn’t know you.

“Enough to pay off my tuition this semester and put some away.”

Chungha nodded to herself, thinking it was impressive. “Get your coin girl.”

The following morning Taehyung hopped onto the bus with a feeling of guilt settling into the pit of his stomach, a nasty churning sensation that had plagued him in his sleep. It made him forgo his usual kimbap breakfast, afraid he’d hurl it up the second he made eye contact with you on this ride and the last thing he needed was another embarrassing moment to add to the list.

He shouldn’t have touched himself to those photos that you hadn’t sent to him exclusively, and he definitely shouldn’t have saved them in his likes. Sure they were on a public domain, but still, it made him feel wrong.

He slid into his seat of choice and shoved his earbuds in, drowning out the small hum that filled the vehicle. Taehyung was so focused on trying to fry out the memory of your boobs from his mind by blasting music that he hadn’t noticed the bus stop and the sound of chunky platforms making their way up the aisle.

You sat down a few rows closer than normal, analyzing him for a moment; his dark hair was covering his eyes partially, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his grey windbreaker, and his jean clad legs bouncing rapidly made it so clear he was nervous.

Perfect.

A smile graced your lips as you slipped your phone out, opening up the thread you had with Taehyung, with your very uninterested message being the last thing you had sent him. It’s almost as if the tiny devil on his shoulder called his attention, convincing him to peer over, almost jumping in his seat when he realized you were on the bus and a lot closer than before.

When he saw your attention on your phone instead of him for once, he couldn’t help but think that maybe you had lost interest in this little game. Maybe he had taken it a bit too far and knowing he had jacked off at school to the thought of you had turned you off.

That is until his phone buzzed in his pocket. Sharp eyes darting up and locking onto his right after, a knowing smirk on your face as you raised your hand and waved your fingers at him.

Y/N 8:09am : Hi bus boy.

Oh god.

Why was he so fucking nervous to talk to you god dammit. His eyes drifted back over to you, seeing you still staring at him, your head tilted in curiosity at why he still hadn’t responded.

With slightly trembling hands he begins to type out a response.

Taehyung 8:11am : Hey bu—

His fingers stop when a new message slides up on the screen.

Y/N 8:11am : Thanks for liking my pictures on my blog.

Y/N 8:11am : Saving them for later?

His stomach drops, mind playing a nice little montage of him scrolling through your blog and pressing that damn heart button as fast as he could. How could he be so stupid in thinking he was being discreet?

Taehyung 8:13am : Fuck im so sorry

He couldn’t look back up, his eyes focused on the three dots indicating your typing. It seemed endless. Were you gonna send him a giant paragraph calling him a pig or some other insult, tell him you had blocked his IP address and would be filing a restraining order on him?

Y/N 8:16am : No, it’s my pleasure.

He stared at the text in mild shock, the kissy face emoji at the end taunting him. Were you fucking with him? It honestly seemed like it considering you had hopped up off your seat and walked off the bus, your hips swaying in the small skirt you wore which only taunted him some more.

Taehyung let out a groan as he rubbed his palms into his face in frustration. What the hell was his deal? He felt like a prepubescent boy who had never spoken to a girl let alone slept with one. Maybe he was losing his edge. Regardless, he was done suffering through this alone so he was going to suck up his pride and seek out the help of his friends.

That was how he found himself once again sitting around the table in the small cafe they all frequented. The six of his friends gave him intent stares at he finished off his story, “And my dumbass didn’t think to maybe not like the pictures for later and she sent me this text the next morning.” He paused to slide his phone into the middle of the table with the message thread lighting up the screen, “And now I don’t know what the hell to do.”

Yoongi pressed his lips together as he shook his head, fingers adjusting the olive green beanie that he had on. “You’re a dumbass.”

Taehyung gave him a shocked expression, the wrinkles in his forehead only deepening when he saw the rest of the guys nodding along in agreement. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Yoongi spoke in a monotone, his eyes playfully narrowing at his friend, taunting him to try to defend himself.

“How am I a dumbass?”

Jungkook rubbed his hands together momentarily, looking around at the others to see if they were gonna speak up or if he was gonna have to be the one to do it. “Look dude,” he started off when he realized no one was gonna put Tae out of his misery. “You have this girl throwing herself at you, straight up telling you she wants to fuck you, and instead of acting on it you chose to jack off to the thought of her?”

Now that someone had said it outloud Taehyung did feel a bit stupid.

This was so out of character for him, he was the kind of guy who hit on girls at frat parties and didn’t bother getting more information besides their name before he was taking them upstairs, and now that you were giving him that treatment, he didn’t know what to do.

“Not only are you stupid for not sleeping with her, but who the hell lurks and gets caught? What a rookie mistake!” Hoseok hollers out, causing Jimin and Namjoon to laugh along with him, and Taehyung could only feel his face redden in embarrassment.

Jin had Tae’s phone in his hand, scrolling through the extremely underwhelming messages you two had sent each other when suddenly, it dinged and a new image popped up at the bottom. “Oh wow!”

That caught everyone's attention, all of them leaning over to try to get a glimpse at whatever Jin had seen but he had already locked the phone, the screen turning black and blocking the guys from seeing the teasing picture you had sent Taehyung out of boredom.

“Aw c’mon, what was it?” Jimin whined, staring at the still locked phone that was now in Taehyung’s hands, hands itching to grab the device.

Taehyung sighed. Did he even want to know?

One glance from Jin told him he sure as hell should, so he dimmed the brightness of his phone before he unlocked it to open up your message. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes made out the image, almost causing him to choke on his spit and make a bigger fool out of himself in front of his friends.

There, sitting all nice and pretty in your thread of messages, was a photo of your thighs spread open, your fingers lifting up the tiny skirt you had on today to reveal a small sliver of the black lace panties you had on. Very suggestive, clearly intent to tease him.

‘Just for you’, was the only message you had written underneath, no indication that you would send anything else. Taehyung could only stare at the photo in awe, eyes trailing down the smooth skin of your thighs, desperately wanting to zoom in, but he knew his friends would only clown him further. It was pretty timid in nature but still just as sexy.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned out, locking his phone and letting his head fall onto the wooden table like deadweight. No one had any reaction to the rattle of the table, simply stabilizing their drinks as they observed their friend having what appears to be a mental breakdown.

“What did she send him?” Yoongi whispered to Jin.

“Something mildly NSFW.”

At that, Yoongi reached over and jostled his whole body with force. “Get the fuck up you imbecile. Respond to her!”

“What am I supposed to say?” Tae slurred, cheek smushed against the table and muffling his words.

“Fucking anything is better than the silent treatment dude. Like she just took time out of her day to send you something. You gotta at least tell her she looks hot, or that you like the picture.” Jungkook rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious response, and honestly it was, this was sexting 101.

“You’re right, I guess.” Taehyung lifted himself back up and unlocked his phone once more, staring at the screen with a distraught expression. “The fuck do I say though?”

Hoseok hummed in thought, tapping his chin as he stared at the lid of his cup. “Depends, what kinda photo was it? Full nude or like a tease?”

“A tease.”

“Oh! Tell her something like, she’s gonna be the death of you, or something along those lines. I’m sure she hears she’s hot all the time, so that's too basic.” Jimin speaks up proudly, his smile widening when Taehyung nods and begins typing out a response with slightly shaky fingers and hits send.

The little sound of the message being sent causes the whole group to let out a sigh of relief, slumping back into their seats and taking sips of their drinks.

“Who knew we’d have to resort to coaching Kim Taehyung on how to sext.” Namjoon snorts, earning a couple of laughs in return, and Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh too because honestly how ridiculous.

The conversation flows easily once Jungkook starts talking, everyone momentarily forgetting about Taehyung’s situation, which he was grateful for. The current topic at hand was the party that Jungkook and Hoseok were having in a few days at their new apartment, but his attention was taken away from that when he shockingly received another text from you.

Y/N 7:36pm :Now we can’t have you dying on me.

Y/N 7:36pm : In the mood for some drinks? A couple of friends and I are going out tonight.

Y/N 7:37pm : You should come.

He stared at his phone in thought. Fuck, he wanted to go so bad, but because he had spent all day yesterday jerking off to the thought of you he had procrastinated an assignment that was due tonight. Not chill Taehyung was going to be his downfall.

Taehyung 7:40pm : I wish I could, I have a deadline at 11

Taehyung 7:40pm : Next time?

On the other side of the screen, you were laying in bed in the same outfit you had on earlier, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt as you read his response, a small smile on your face.

In all honesty you weren’t even expecting him to respond to your photo anyways, so this caught you off guard.

Y/N 7:42pm : I’m holding you to that bus boy.

So as you went out with your friends, throwing back shots and dancing your life away to the song playing at the club you guys loved, Taehyung sat at home typing out a bullshit paper as his phone watched your instagram story from time to time.

By the time he was calling it a night after he turned in his assignment you were still posting videos of your friends dancing and pouring drinks into your mouth straight from the bottle. You clearly knew how to have a good time and he couldn’t help but feel a tiny twinge of regret at not going out when you had invited him to.

That same regret seeps into the following morning, rewatching your stories and imagining how much fun he would have had if he decided to forget his assignments and go out with you. It’s safe to say that he was honestly not expecting you to hop on at your usual stop, mainly because he knew from your posts that you didn’t call it a night until 4am and it was currently 7:20am. So, when he saw you step on the bus, he was slightly shocked.

The regular attire he was used to was missing, normally styled hair now up in a messy bun, a thick pair of shades on, and an oversized flannel barely hanging over your shoulder. It was very obvious that you had just rolled out of bed.

His reaction time was a little slow, but when he saw you continue down the aisle and getting closer to him, he tensed up and held his breath, not releasing it even as you took it upon yourself to sit down right next to him. The two of you being the only passengers at the back of the bus.

“Hi,” you spoke out, turning to look at him as he tried his best to just face forward. A sweet smile passed between you when he finally turned towards you and gave you a small hello in greeting.

That satisfies you, so you wiggle in your seat to get comfy, your hands pulling out a book from your bag and starting to read it to pass the time. Taehyung visibly relaxes at that, happy that your attention was on the book instead of him because he wasn’t sure if he could make it through a conversation this early without embarrassing himself.

You take note of his relaxed frame, his head resting against the window and one earbud in his ear playing some song you couldn’t quite make out. That was when you decided to make your move, your eyes still trained on your book as you let your right hand trail up onto his thigh, letting it rest there for a moment to gauge his reaction.

His thigh tenses instantly at the sensation. “You can tell me to stop and I will,” you whisper, your hand already retreating. You knew he was attracted to you but you weren’t gonna do something to him if he was uncomfortable.

Taehyung sits there for a moment, having an internal debate, because fuck does he want you to touch him, but he’s also on public transportation and he’s not sure what the fine is for public indecency. The inner debate is splayed on his features, but in the end the pros outweigh the cons, so he reaches out and grabs your hand, placing it higher up on his thigh.

“No, keep going.”

It was genuine curiosity to see how far you would actually go, and when you told him to put his backpack over his thighs he knew you were being serious. He listened to your instructions and waited with baited breath as he felt your fingertips trail around his crotch, ghost touches sending a small shiver down his spine.

His dick was already twitching in his pants and you had barely even touched him. Your fingers tugged on the string of his black track suits and slipped behind the waistband of them, trailing down his skin and feeling his stomach twitch at the contact. You settled with palming him over his boxers, hearing Taehyung let out a small grunt at the feeling, his dick slowly hardening under your touch.

He was very responsive to your touch, thighs tensing up as he tried to fight back the urge to buck his hips for more friction and it fueled your excitement.

Considering this was a risky move, you decided to stop torturing him with teasing touches and finally slid your hand past the material of his boxers, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his thick cock.

Taehyung could feel the blood pumping in his ears as he dropped his head forward with a choked gasp, resting his forehead on the seat in front of him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to disguise his facial expressions if anyone were to look back.

Every jerk of your hand made his breath hitch. Your hands felt like magic, pulling up to twist around the swollen head and gathering his precum before coming back down. God, he wanted to rip his pants down so he wouldn’t feel so confined.

In the perfect display of nonchalance, you still had the book in your left hand, eyes cast down on the page as if your right hand wasn’t focused on his sensitive tip with determination to make him break down. On occasion, you would glance over and smile to yourself at his facial expression, seeing how his eyes were screwed shut as his forehead rested on the seat, alternating between chewing on his bottom lip or just licking his lips and leaving his mouth open as he tried to suppress the moans he wanted to let out.

“Fuck.” The first crack to his exterior had him finally mumbling out as you picked up the pace, his eyes opening up and looking over at you for a moment, needing to solidify that he wasn’t imagining this. There would be nothing worse than coming face to face with his bed sheets as he awoke from a dream instead of you actually getting him off.

But there you were, looking so at peace, staring at him with an innocent smile like you weren’t about to make him cum in his pants embarrassingly quick. “You close?”

He let out a small whine as he nodded, finally losing the final bit of self control and bucking his hips to meet your hand, hearing the small thump of your palm against his skin. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you make a mess.”

With eyes sparkling with mischief, you tightened your grip on him as you sped up, your bottom lip being chewed on by your teeth while you watched him come undone. His eyebrows were furrowed, a small frown on his face as he opened his mouth in a silent moan, something you desperately wished you could hear. Harsh pants of breath fanned across the back of the seat as he groaned, fingers gripping the material of his backpack to stop himself from digging his nails into his palm as he neared his release. With a few more pumps, his whole body tensed up as he finally came, stomach twitching while you milked his orgasm.

Taehyung vision blanks for a moment while aftershocks filled his body, dots of light flickering across his eyes until it all came back, and as he realized you were staring at him in awe he could have sworn he was gonna cum again. Your hand was still slowly pumping him, feeling his dick twitch at the overstimulation but he couldn’t get himself to tell you to stop, enjoying the small ache of sensitivity too much.

It wasn’t until he started to softly grunt at the pleasure that turned painful that you pulled your hand out of his pants, content smile spread across your lips. Taehyung sat there limp, his body feeling like absolute jello, thighs still shaking from his climax. He can already imagine how unsteady his legs will be once it's time to get off the bus.

You stared at your hand, eyeing the small milky beads of cum on your fingers and you didn’t think twice before popping them in your mouth and sucking on them as you stared right at him. “That was fun. Thanks bus boy.”

He watched in a daze as you stuffed the book back into your bag and got up from your seat, giving him a wide smile while you walked up to the front of the bus. It was only then that he realized both of you had arrived at your college, the boring commute speeding by thanks to your antics. With a spared glance at the displeased bus driver, Taehyung shot up from his seat, cringing at his still sensitive dick and the uncomfortable sticky feeling in his pants.

You were absolutely going to be the death of him

Taehyung was weak, bottom-of-the-food-chain, top tier simp material for you. All it took was one handjob for him to be stuck on you, constantly waiting for any form of interaction you would give him. It was pure infatuation—and a little pathetic—but he wasn’t sure how he felt about you. It was like his brain was torn between trying to get to know you in a more personal way, or just going with the flow and fucking you like you had originally offered. It just made him feel more confused, and a little naive, because it was so clear that you had no romantic feelings for him.

This experience had filled Taehyung with a small sense of guilt, he now knew how the girls he treated this way felt. The constant stringing along and nonchalant carefree aura he would have when he would hook up with girls who clearly wanted more, it was fucking frustrating being on the receiving end and even more frustrating because he knew if he really wanted it to stop all he had to do was ask.

But Taehyung couldn’t get himself to ask you to stop. You had a grasp on him, and you did it so easily, which is why when he didn’t see you on the bus the following day he felt his heart drop a little.

Sure, he hadn’t noticed you prior but considering it had been a few weeks of constant contact in one form or another, he just found it a little odd now. His hand was twitching with the urge to send you a text and ask if you were feeling okay but he stopped himself in fear of sounding like a clingy mess.

“Any progress on the mystery babe?” Jungkook asked as they waited in line at the fast food joint near school.

Taehyung smirked a little at that, memories of yesterday's random handjob coming back to mind. “Sort of.”

Jungkook scoffed, “Sort of? Dude c’mon, just shoot her a text and tell her you wanna hang out, or be blunt and ask her to fuck.”

In retrospect that would be the typical route Taehyung would take, but there was something about you being so in control of this dynamic that had him so unsure of himself. “Look man, she’s different.”

“Oh no—“ And immediately Taehyung knew how that had come out. “Do not say you like her. You barely know her.”

He raised his hands in front of him, “No! Not like that Kook! I just mean that I don’t know how to act.” He let out a sigh, feeling annoyed with himself with this entire situation. “I hope I don’t sound like a total douchebag saying this, but I’m used to girls who let me take charge in situations you know?”

Jungkook nodded, staring at his friend as he spoke, “Girls that basically follow me around and let me decide if I wanna keep them around—and I hate how I sound speaking like that—but it’s the only way I can explain it.” He let out another defeated sigh, definitely something that had become a common form of expression for him. “She doesn’t do that shit, and I don’t know how to act like myself because of it.”

The younger man nodded again, knowing exactly what he meant. “I knew a girl like that, honestly the best two months of my life. Look dude, if she's making it clear that she doesn’t want anything serious then what's the dilemma? She’s confident in herself and you shouldn’t feel intimidated by that.”

Taehyung hummed at that, he was right as Jungkook continued, “And who knows, maybe she’ll help you realize that chains and whips excite you.”

And there was typical Jeon Jungkook. “I fucking hate you.”

Jungkook let out a cackle before turning his attention to the poor cashier who unfortunately had to hear the end of his statement. As he ordered for himself and Taehyung, the latter felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was half expecting it to be a message from Hoseok asking him some dumb question, so when he saw your name on his screen he thought he was hallucinating.

Y/N 12:17pm : Hope you didn’t miss me too much today

Y/N 12:17pm : Come to this

Y/N 12:17pm : You promised me next time bus boy

Attached to the messages was a photo of a party flyer he was very familiar with. It was the silly flyer Jungkook had spent around 5 minutes making to promote their party tomorrow night, and the fact that you had come across it either meant it really got around or you had a mutual friend.

He looked up momentarily as Jungkook tapped him, motioning for him to follow to an empty table as they waited for the food. Taehyung blindly walked behind him, eyes downcast on his screen as he typed a response.

Taehyung 12:19pm : I’ll be there

Your response was instant and it caught him off guard because you usually lagged on messages.

Y/N 12:19pm : I’ll be waiting

But it seemed like Taehyung would be the one waiting. He was standing at the corner of the living room with a drink in his hand and his phone in the other, waiting for you to text him as his eyes scanned the current room.

Jungkook stood beside him, animatedly talking to a cute girl who had grabbed his interest, too busy to notice his friend eyeing the room like a hawk. Taehyung wanted to wander off and find someone for himself, but the idea that you would eventually be here kept him glued to one spot.

It was nearing midnight and people were already making messes of themselves, passed out on the couch and some even on the front lawn. Jungkook and Hoseok’s new place was more spacious than their last, but it was definitely overcrowding so people were coming in and out frequently from the front to the backyard to get some fresh air.

“I'm gonna go get another drink.” He told Jungkook, who waved him off and continued his conversation while Taehyung made his way to the kitchen.

He used the same cup he had in his hand and filled it up with vodka and cranberry juice, his favorite drink of choice right next to drinking it straight. Then suddenly, it was like a magnet forced him to look up and over his shoulder, and that's when he spotted you and your group of friends.

You all walked in with big smiles on your faces, one of your friends walking over to Hoseok and giving him a hug, and that's who he assumed the mutual friend was. Your hair was flipped over your shoulder as you played with it with your hands, small crop top showing just enough cleavage and your stomach, and Taehyung could just feel himself staring.

That's when your eyes met his, and they glinted with something he couldn’t pinpoint. Your target had been acquired, and as he saw you making your way over to him he choked a bit on his drink.

“Bus boy.” Was all you told him, a smile on your face as you easily slipped beside him against the counter, elbows resting casually on the cool surface as you leaned back.

“Hey...bus girl.” he awkwardly responded, feeling like an idiot immediately after. You only giggled, your fingers wrapping around his own on the cup as you brought it from its place against Tae’s mouth over to your own for a sip.

“Mm, vodka cranberry?” You licked your lips, and his eyes were glued on them. “How’d you know that's my drink of choice?”

“Lucky guess?” He slowly responded back, gently taking the cup back from your grasp when you handed it over, his eyes glancing at the sticky residue your gloss left on the rim of the cup.

You were analyzing him, watching him standing there with an aura of unsureness around him. You see, you knew of Taehyung, had a couple of friends who had hooked up with him, and this is not what they described him as. They always told you he was assertive, the first to make a move and once he had he was aggressive in bed in the best way. That’s why he had caught your attention, you wanted to see how hard it would be to crack him, break him down until he was begging and pleading since he was so used to taking charge. The possibility of having him on his knees, holding on to your every word, made this sick sense of pleasure creep up your spine.

Taehyung was handsome, that wasn’t up for debate, but you could see him biting his lips almost like he had a million things he wanted to say to you but was afraid they wouldn’t come out right. Cracking him might be easier than you thought.

“Did I miss all the fun?” The question hung in the air for a moment as flashes from the night played through his head. Jungkook kicking out some dude for trying to piss in the kitchen sink, Hoseok doing a line of who knows what off some girls boobs and her boyfriend trying to fight him, among a plethora of incidents in the span of a few hours.

“No, definitely not. The night is still young.”

You only stared at him, waiting for his eyes to finally look at yours instead of pretending like he didn't notice you. And finally, they did, narrowing a bit in suspicion as he wondered what you were thinking in your head.

“So,” you began, confidently grabbing his drink again. “Have you taken my offer into consideration?”

He was so focused seeing your tongue lick your lips to catch the remaining moisture of the drink that he almost didn't hear your question. “I’m sorry, what offer?”

A small laugh left your lips at his question. “You really forgot already?” You only gave him a moment of silence before you continued, “The offer that involves you fucking me, or are you turning it down?”

Taehyung froze, taking in your facial expression before answering. Your mouth held the same sinfully evil smirk it always had, head tilted slightly as you handed his drink back to him and shot him a wink before you sauntered off towards your friends who had watched the entire exchange go down.

They instantly tugged your wrist and yanked you towards the sliding doors that lead to the backyard where a game of beer pong was going down. Chungha was all giggles, not being able to believe the new person of interest in your eyes was Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung on the other hand just let his eyes follow your body until the sliding door was shut once more. He had taken too long to respond to your question, his mind had been shouting at him to just blurt out that yes, he had taken your offer into consideration and he one hundred percent wanted to fuck you. Too bad his mouth decided to sew itself shut.

He took another swig of his drink, swallowing harshly with a bit of determination set on his mind. By the end of the night he had to make a move on you, that much was for sure. He was tired of you always having the upper hand with every interaction you had. This party was his element for fucks sake, he was a seasoned pro when it came to sleeping with random girls at house parties. The only difference this time was that none of them had come on to him as boldly as you had, but that wasn’t a problem at all.

Jungkook slapped a palm on his shoulder, making his drink slosh in the cup and catching him by surprise. When Tae looked away from the sliding door and over to his left, he could see Jungkook was also looking in the same direction with a knowing smile on his face. “Oh man, she’s trouble.”

Tae’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, who?”

“Y/N, man. Who else?” He released his grip on the older one's shoulder, taking a sip of the beer in his other hand while he nodded his head in thought.

Taehyung was clearly out of the loop here, “How do you know her?” He mentally sorted through the girls he had seen Jungkook with in the past, even trying hard to remember any girls he had mentioned in passing and you had never come up.

Jungkook took another drink of his beer, wondering how to go about this carefully. He could be honest with Tae and tell him he had met you last semester at a club that was popular with the students at the university. How you had been the absolute best sex of his life for two steady months, and then suddenly dropped him without a care in the world—which would have absolutely crushed Jungkook if he let himself get attached but he hadn’t, he swore he hadn’t. He was kinda shocked and very amused that you had chosen his best friend as your new target, even if it was purely coincidental.

In the end, he decided being honest wasn’t necessary. “It’s not important, just know she’s pure trouble in the best way. Is she the bus girl you always talk about?”

That answer didn’t satisfy Tae but he was too busy thinking about how to make a move on you to dive deeper. “Yeah, she is.”

Jungkook nodded, hearing Jimin calling him from somewhere in the house with a very slurred voice. “Well, I hope you’re planning on making a move on her tonight or I’ll let all the guys know what a pussy you are.” He jostled Tae’s shoulders once more with a hearty laugh before running off towards Jimin who was surely drunk as fuck.

Outside of the house stood you and your friends, surrounding the beer pong game going on between Yoongi and Seulgi. Your eyes were peering behind you, staring through the glass doors as you watched Jungkook speaking to Taehyung for a brief moment. You smiled to yourself, knowing the small mess you might be causing between friends but not caring enough to stop it.

“This winning shot is for you gorgeous!” Yoongi shouted out, blowing a sloppy kiss out towards Sunmi before tossing the ping pong ball haphazardly towards the last remaining cup and somehow making it in.

“That winning shot made me lose!” Sunmi erupted in laughter while everyone cheered at the end of the game. Seulgi rolled her eyes with a playful smile before chugging the last cup and walking back to your group.

“I don’t know how that fucker beat me considering his blood alcohol content should have his ass in a coma.”

You laughed, throwing your arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to you. “It’s because Sunmi told him that she’d give him her number if he got the winning cup. I guess desperation makes boys a little more sober.”

“Pigs.” She grumbled with a laugh, watching as Sunmi and Yoongi exchanged information, both of them looking like flustered children with blushing cheeks. “Anyways, are you gonna torture that poor boy inside all night?”

“Hm,” you hummed to yourself. “Is it really torture if I gave him a way in?”

“Oh please Y/N, has any boy ever taken to your advances that quickly? You’re intimidating as fuck, in the sexiest way possible. He’s probably not used to girls telling him shit like that so he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, but Yuna told me he was blunt as fuck with her when they slept together.” Your eyes peered back inside, no longer being able to see Taehyung.

“Yuna? Kang Yuna?” You nodded, looking up at Seulgi and seeing a look of disbelief on her face, “Dude, she’s the most timid, shy, submissive girl I’ve ever met. Guys eat that shit up. That’s what guys like Taehyung are used to. You spicing it up has him second guessing everything, so I say you keep it up. Be two steps ahead of him.”

You knew she was right, even though this was an exciting game of cat and mouse for you, you'd be lying if you said you weren’t slightly interested in him for more than just a one night stand.

“You gonna play?” Chunga popped in beside you, a grin on her face as she held a white ping pong ball in her hands. You smiled back and gave her a nod, letting her tug you towards the table being set up.

Yoongi stood wobbling on the other side, claiming to want to hold on to his winning title but the boy was clearly close to passing out from the amount of alcohol in his system. That was when another boy stood beside him, his frame towering over Yoongi’s and a charming smile on his plump lips as he tried to coax Yoongi into going inside to drink some water.

Chungha hummed in approval as she took his appearance in. “Wow he’s...”

“Yummy?”

She snorted out, “Oh yeah, definitely yummy.”

Yoongi was bickering with said yummy boy until Sunmi approached him again and put on her best flirtatious look to get him to follow her inside the house. He was done for after that, handing his friend the ball in his hand with a lazy wave, his half lidded eyes trailing down Sunmi’s body as she dragged him behind her. He probably thought he would be getting laid tonight but Sunmi was in mom mode, so unless he was ready to down a gallon of water and sober up, the only thing he would be doing is going straight to sleep.

“Hey, yummy guy, are you playing or not?”

He looked startled by the nickname, his hand coming up to point at his chest in confusion. When you and Chungha gave him a look that said yeah you his mouth opened up slightly before he was smiling again. “Yummy? Wow, can’t say I’m opposed to being called that.” He started to laugh at that and Chungha sighed at the sound, yup she was a sucker.

“I don’t have a partner to play against you two.”

You stepped back from the table with a shrug. “Don’t mind me, he’s all yours Chungha.”

They instantly started chatting with each other, playful threats and possible bets being made for whoever lost this game, but you weren’t planning on staying to watch this go down. The friends you had left on the sidelines watched you saunter away and they knew exactly where you were headed.

You wandered inside the crowded home and let your eyes scan the room, the kitchen was immediately to the left of you, a group of boys huddled around the alcohol as they made drinks, but no sign of Taehyung. Grabbing the lone vodka bottle from the counter, you took a quick swig before you resumed your hunt, ignoring the nasty burn to your throat.

A few more steps inside towards the living room didn’t reveal him either, too many bodies moving together to some random beat playing through the speakers placed around. There was a hallway to the left and another to the right, you chose to go towards the right side, side stepping random cups left on the floor.

A few voices were at the end of the hall, coming out of the only open door so you continued near them, desperate to see a familiar face until you came to a stop in front of the bathroom. You rested your shoulder against the door frame, seeing Jungkook leaning over his friend’s hunched form as he clung to the toilet bowl. Although this was a familiar face, he was not the one you were searching for.

As if sensing your presence, he looked up and over at you, a gentle smile gracing his face when he saw it was you. “You got the invite I see.”

You smiled back at him. “I did. So did the rest of my friends, you know, from Hoseok.” The drunken friend on the floor dry heaved for a moment, making Jungkook look back down at them and pat their back.

“He’s probably on the front lawn smoking by the way.” He spoke again, not needing you to explain who you were looking for, and you were grateful because you weren’t in the mood to play dumb.

You pushed off the door frame and stepped back, hearing him shout out a sarcastic ‘I know you miss me’ as you walked away. “Save it Jeon!” You playfully shouted back. You knew he missed you, he had told you plenty of times ever since you decided to stop sleeping with him.

Of course Jeon Jungkook had been a good fuck, having been one of your favorite switches. Very true to his reputation, he could fuck you all night long with no issues, bringing you to orgasm enough times until you were crying for him to stop, while also letting you tie him up until he was the one begging—but he’d gotten attached.

He could deny it all he wanted, but you sensed the change instantly. It creeped up in moments where he’d ask you to spend the night instead of leaving after hooking up, seeping into him asking you to hang out in day to day life instead of just 3am booty calls. And that just wasn’t something you were interested in having at the time. It wasn’t a jab at Jungkook, he was a nice guy if you were being honest, but that was old news.

So as the music blasted in the house, sounding muffled to your ears, you walked with a purpose, weaving in between people as you crossed the living room and reached the front door.

The fresh air met you the second you pushed the door open, loud bass spilling out of the house and into the front lawn, dimly lit up by the porch light. It allowed you to instantly spot Taehyung, a barely lit blunt between his fingers as he spoke to a taller boy beside him. At the sound of the door opening they both looked over in your direction, the taller one offering you a smile while Taehyung took a drag and gave you a nervous wave.

You weren’t going to bother talking to him out here, he turned into a deer caught in headlights whenever you did so you just walked over to him, plucked the blunt from between his fingers and handed it to his friend before wrapping your hand around his wrist and dragging him behind you. The two of you needed to be alone, not around drunk party goers, or both of your nosey friends.

Taehyung didn’t resist at all, looking over at Namjoon and seeing his friend had a shit eating grin on his face as he got dragged inside. You clearly had a mission, shoving your way through the sea of bodies again as you trekked to the opposite hallway this time, going for the only room on this side of the house.

The bedroom door got thrown open and thankfully no one was inside of it. Taehyung slammed the door shut behind him and locked it as you turned to face him, inches separating you and you let out a soft breath at the close proximity. “Do you want this?”

His mind fogged over briefly as he watched your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal more skin. “Yes, I do.”

Those were the words to set it all in motion, hands yanking your shift off your body and tossing it aside, leaving you standing in your bra for him to ogle at.

“Better than the photos huh?” you tease with a honey-sweet voice, reminding him of his deep dive onto your blog while your hands slid behind your back to unhook your bra and let it completely slide off.

Taehyung couldn’t help but stare as your hands came up to give your boobs a squeeze. “Fuck.”

He stepped forward, wanting to finally touch you but you tsk in disapproval, shaking your finger at him and it just made him pout. Isn’t that what you wanted from him?

His breath hitched in his throat when you stepped even closer, tips of your fingers trailing from his shoulders to his chest, down to the hem, bunching the fabric in your grasp as you tugged it up and off of him. His arms raised up with no protest as you undressed him, wide eyes just watching your every move, ready to do whatever you asked of him. It was so out of character for him, but that much could be said about every interaction he’s had with you so he goes with the flow of it all.

Goosebumps rose up on his tan skin as you trailed your hands down to play with the button on his jeans, fiddling with it to tease him. You wanted to cover his chest and stomach in hickeys, marking every inch of him up, bruising and teasing him until he was pleading for you to suck his cock. There was just something about him that made you want to see him flushed and desperate.

He could see you lost in thought as you stared at his body, now hyper aware of the fact that he wasn’t absolutely ripped, but you liked that. His arms came up again in an attempt to pull you in to kiss you, but you stopped him once more, finally snapping out of your daze.

“Do you deserve to touch me?” His mind blanked at your tone, the slight edge he had heard the first time you spoke was back, and something about it made his body tingle. “Hm?” you hummed when he remained quiet.

That glint in your eye returned and his head shook without him realizing, no he didn’t deserve to touch you.

“Take it all off and lay on the bed,” you spoke sternly, the smirk on your face growing when he did as you said. His body hunched over and stumbled as he stripped out of his pants and boxers, his shoes and socks long gone beside them. Taehyung followed instructions and laid on the bed, feeling a little guilty that poor Hoseok’s bed would be defiled like this, but when you slid off your own pants and underwear he couldn’t find himself to care anymore.

His cock was already hard and twitching as it laid against his stomach, and he could feel the small pool of precum gathering under his belly button, leaving a sticky mess on his skin. You hadn’t even touched him and he was this riled up already, terrified he would cum the second you decided to touch him, so his hand came to grasp the base of his cock and gave it a firm squeeze.

That action wasn’t lost on you as you slowly approached him, your knees resting on the mattress while you shuffled towards his body. Your fingertips trailed up his thighs softly, going around his cock and up his chest where your nails lightly grazed his nipple. His body shuddered at the touch, and the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip at the reaction made him nervous.

You swung your leg over his waist, hovering above his skin but not making contact just yet. Taehyung had never been patient, his eagerness getting the best of him, and just as his hands rose up—about to touch your hips and force you to plop down on his cock—your own hands reacted, grasping his before he could touch you and bringing them above his head, successfully catching him off guard.

“You said you don’t deserve to touch me.”

His eyes widened in realization, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of a way to take back the words that he said earlier. Fuck, he wanted to touch you, he could see your pussy hovering inches over his cock, and he bet he could slide right into you from how wet you looked, already picturing the feeling of your warmth as he sunk into you.

Your hands grasped both of his wrists, leaving his arms pinned above his head as your other hand reached down, and he held his breath. There was a brief moment where he thought you’d show him mercy, hoping you were going to grab his dick from between your bodies, but when he saw your index and middle fingers part your lower lips he let a groan escape him. You trailed them up your slit and back down to circle around your entrance with a quiet hum, bringing your fingers back up in front of Taehyung’s eyes, watching him stare at them in awe as you separated them and your slick strung across from them.

“It’s a shame.” Your eyes trailed up to his hands again, seeing them clenched together in your grasp. “I’d love to have your hands inside me, but maybe next time.”

“No,” he croaked out, hips desperately lifting up in hopes of grinding into your pussy but he fell short. “Please, let me touch you.”

The begging satisfied the sick itch you were hoping to scratch, leaving you grinning above him. You had just started, yet his eyebrows were already furrowed, eyes locked in a trance on your fingers that were still in front of his face.

“Not today, baby. Do you want a taste though?” He was nodding the second the proposal left your mouth. Taehyung licked his lips in desperation, mouth opening up as you brought them towards his lips, his neck craning forward and wrapping his lips around your fingers to taste the remnants of your arousal. His tongue flicked between your fingers as he sucked like his life depended on it, the urgency displayed had more wetness gushing out of you, and when Taehyung’s eyes darted towards his abdomen, he saw that some of it had dripped onto the skin below where you hovered.

You pulled your fingers out of his mouth and brought them back between your legs to tease yourself further. “Fuck, this could’ve been you doing this to me Taehyung.” You gasped out as your fingers flicked over your clit repeatedly and he whimpered, head falling back to rest on the pillows because he couldn’t take watching you get yourself off above him while his dick lay hard and leaking right below you.

You snickered to yourself, finally deciding to take some pity on the man, reaching below you to grasp his cock. His neck tensed up at the action, head whipping back up to make sure he wasn’t imaging anything. But there you were, small hands barely wrapping around his thick cock as you gave it a gentle tug. Your fingers were covered in your slick, making the glide feel delicious, spreading your arousal around his length and mixing with his own in a sinful combination.

Taehyung’s chest heaved slightly as you picked up your pace, your fingers coming up to play with his pink tip before going back down quickly, hands set to tease him. He was trying to stop himself from moaning, you already had his arms restrained, he didn't want to give you this much power over him, but when your hands came down to fondle his balls he couldn’t hold back the needy whine that left him. The desperation behind him just made your pussy clench, and you really wish he could fuck you, but you weren’t going to let him get his way this easily, not when he hadn’t worked for it.

“Keep your hands there.” You spoke firmly as you released your grasp on them, smirking at his obedience when his fingers chose to wrap around the poles of the headboard behind him instead. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do, but he was hoping your next move would be sinking onto his cock.

“Wait,” he spoke up as you placed both your hands on his chest. “I don’t have a condom,” he admitted, face scrunching up when he saw you freeze in your action of dropping down on top of him.

“Oh,” you cooed, left hand coming up to cup his cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry about that.” His heart was torn because although he loved going without a condom, he didn’t know you enough to trust continuing without one. “You’re not fucking me.”

And now his heart was shredded, thrown into a dumpster, and set on fire. “What?”

Your fingers traced his cheek softly as you smiled at him. “Only good boys get to fuck me and you—“ you patted his skin in a gentle, yet firm, slap. “—haven’t been good.”

A pout forms on his lips because now he’s desperate, and also confused. Why would you strip out of all your clothes just to tease him like this? Were you going to finish yourself off on top of him and just leave? He wasn’t entirely against that scenario because he’s sure it would be hot as fuck, but his dick was literally throbbing.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you had shuffled down a bit and rested your dripping pussy right on top of his cock, your lips parting slightly as you rocked your hips forward. And then he was gasping, his hands detaching from the headboard and instinctively wanting to grab your hips, but they stopped an inch or so away, catching his own mistake. His fingers remained trembling in the air, a moan finally leaving his lips at the feeling of you grinding on his cock, the relief of you not leaving him high and dry taking over.

Keeping your palms on his chest, you used them as leverage to help you move, a wicked smile on your face when you saw the internal debate he was having. He could touch you if he really wanted to, he could say fuck your rules and grip your hips so hard they’d bruise, but he didn’t. He listened to you, his shaking hands retreating back to the headboard with a groan of restraint.

“Good boy,” you spoke softly, his cock twitching at the praise. He liked this, the foreign feeling of being pliant underneath you, letting you call all of the shots, it was igniting a warmth inside of him that he never expected.

Taehyung could feel his stomach becoming a sticky mess from his precum and your wetness dripping down from his cock, but he didn’t care, he loved when it was messy, loved hearing the squelching sound filling the room every time you rocked your hips. The fact that you were this drenched from teasing him just turned him on more, and he really wanted to say fuck it and ask you to sink onto his cock, but you told him to be a good boy so that’s what he would do.

“Feel good?”

“S-so good,” he whined out, breathy and strained, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to it.

His thighs were tense and aching, forcing himself to not thrust forward in fear that you’d stop what you were doing, small moans leaving his lips when the tip of his cock would brush against your clit. He looked fucked out underneath you, eyes blown open as he locked onto the spot between you two, watching his messy cock peek out between your legs when you’d grind your hips back.

Taehyung had never cum from doing this, it was something he had never tried before; he was used to the quickness of fucking at parties, some fingering being involved before he slid in from behind. But he could feel himself edging closer to his release embarrassingly fast, the sinful moans leaving your mouth only aiding in pushing him over faster.

You had a good rhythm going, his cock trapped between his stomach and your pussy, and even though he was trying his best not to be vocal, you could see he was close to falling apart. His hands were clenching the headboard so hard they were paling, and if that wasn’t enough of an indication his face surely said it all.

Leaning over his body, you let your face inch closer to his as you sped up your hips. At your proximity Taehyung finally spoke up, “Can I-fuc—” he shuddered, “—can I please kiss you?”

Your eyebrow cocked up at his request, not expecting that to be what he wanted from you. “You want to kiss me?”

Taehyung's dark hair bounced on his head as he nodded frantically. “Yes,” he gasped out, squirming underneath you as you bucked harder on top of him.

He wanted to kiss you, your lips looked so soft and shiny, and he wanted to feel them on top of his. Honestly what he really wanted was to flip you over and fuck you senseless—he had the power to—the weight of you on him was nothing he couldn’t overpower, but something about you being in control of his pleasure was doing things to him.

When your hair grazed his chest from you dropping down, his heart skipped but your lips chose to kiss his neck instead, small traces and licks on his skin as you trailed up towards his jaw until finally you reached his lips. They were tacky from your lip gloss but he didn’t care, they felt as soft as he imagined, and when you snuck your tongue into the mix Taehyung whimpered into your mouth. His eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, pleasure rolling over him in waves that only intensified when you wrapped your lips around his tongue and sucked.

You could feel his body tensing up from underneath you, his climax creeping up on him, so you rocked faster, sinking your teeth into his plump bottom lip and tugging back. That was the final push before he was cumming, face screwed up the same way it was on the bus and a rough groan that you swallowed with another kiss.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

Another moan spilled out as you continued your movements, feeling his cum splashing up towards his chest from the force, some of it dribbling down his cock and settling onto your pussy. “Wow,” you mused, lips pulling back from his and looking down to see the mess he had made, his breathing continuing to shudder until you came to a stop.

Taehyung kept his grip on the headboard, a lot more limp than before, vision hazy from his orgasm and entire body tingling. You lifted up from him and shuffled further down, licking the trail of cum on his stomach with a grin when you noticed how his sensitive cock twitched at the visual.

Trying to save face, he turned his head into his upper arm to shield himself, the small burn of embarrassment felt at the fact that he had just blown his load from you grinding on him in record time.

You weren’t finished with him yet though, your body still slowly sliding down him, fingers leaving feather-like touches on his skin that he mistook as you soothing his shuddering body, until they grasped his cock.

“Oh,” he winced, feeling your fingers grazing his sensitive dick, your mouth quickly enveloping it, making his back arch from the sudden sensation. It was no secret that Taehyung had a love for overstimulation, constantly toeing the line between pain and pleasure when he continued to jack off after cumming, but your warm mouth was new.

His sore fingers released the headboard, elbows straightening up because he had to watch this, had to burn this point of view into his mind forever. You were crouched at the bottom of the bed on your knees, ass up in the air as you swallowed his cock, your tongue swirling around it when you felt it start to harden again.

“H-hurts,” he admitted with his hips twitching, not sure if he wanted to thrust into your mouth or back away. Your hands rested on his hips to stop them from moving as his dick slipped out of your mouth with a pop.

“You want me to stop?” One hand was lazily jerking him as you spoke, his dick twitching in your grasp once more.

No, no he was loving this. The pleasure was sharp but it was spreading a warmth throughout his body. Could he cum again?

He was clearly having a hard time deciding if he wanted you to stop or not, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as he moaned softly, but Taehyung liked the pain, you could tell.

When your mouth took him in again he gasped lewdly, his elbows giving out and letting him flop back on the bed with a thump, fingers gripping the crumpled sheets beneath him. “No, no,” he whimpered again when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. “Don’t stop, god.”

He could feel you smirking around his cock, your tongue coming out to flick the tip of his dick, red and swollen and once again dripping. One of your hands wrapped around the part you couldn’t reach, squeezing and tugging in time with your mouth; the other was dipped between your own thighs, fingers sinking into your cunt and thrusting them to match your motions.

Taehyung had his hands gripping onto the bed sheets to stop them from tangling into your hair and forcing you to take all of him, but his head peeked up, and when he saw you playing with yourself he sat back up, hips finally coming up to thrust into your mouth. Whimpers of pain and pleasure filled the room, the muscles in his neck pulled taut as he felt pressure start to bloom in his lower stomach.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle having another orgasm, every time he’d hit the back of your throat he felt the wind get knocked out of him, knees acting on reflex and shooting up to try to squirm away from your grasp.

The want to scold him was strong but you were getting closer to cumming, and seeing him losing control only made you moan around his cock. You pulled your fingers out of yourself, and with a few more flicks on your clit you were cumming. Taehyung watched in awe as your hips stuttered, and the moan you let out just urged him to keep thrusting into your mouth.

His fingers were sore from the grip he had on the sheets and when he saw the drool leaking out of your mouth as you sunk all the way down, he finally felt the band snap, a throaty moan leaving his lips as he bowed his back into the mattress, the pain and pleasure blending together beautifully and bringing him to one of the best orgasms of his life. This load was a lot smaller than the last, but he was completely spent now, body lying limp on the bed as he tried to catch his breath.

Swallowing the cum on your tongue with a smirk, you took him in your mouth once more to tease, pulling back and placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his soft cock.

“Such a good boy.” You teased as you made your way back up to him with a genuine smile on your face. Your soft lips pressed against his again, mouth opening up and he could taste himself on your tongue but he didn’t mind it. With a little hesitance, his hand came up to finally touch you, fingers tangling into your hair as he deepened the kiss, your teeth clashing together a few times because he couldn’t get enough.

He watched as you pulled back from him, your tongue tracing your lips while you flipped your hair behind you again. “You know, you’re pretty when you cum.” And he doesn’t know why, but the statement made him blush. No one had ever told him he looked pretty when he came.

“Thank you?”

You giggled, still on top of him. “You’re welcome. I’ll be thinking of it when I touch myself later.” You gave him another quick peck before you got off of him and started putting your clothes back on. Taehyung was in a state of shock as he observed you, he had cum twice and still hadn’t fucked you, and you were very clearly getting a kick out of it.

A final adjustment was done to your skirt before running your fingers through your hair, looking back at him still limp on his friend's bed, limbs resembling jello. It was cute, but you knew you had to trail him along further so you shot him a wink, opening up the bedroom door and waltzing out like you hadn’t just ruined him.

The haze that surrounded him whenever you were around him faded as you left and Taehyung sprung into action with a yelp, wrapping Hoseok's comforter around his naked body when he saw that you left the door open. Luckily no one was around, but he still rushed up with the sheets to close the door, legs feeling a little wobbly. With the door securely locked, he rested his weight against it, letting Hoseok’s ruined sheets fall from his body into a heap on the floor, his hand coming up to run through his messy hair.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he groaned in disbelief, balling up the sheets and stuffing them into the small hamper by the closet, they barely fit but it didn’t matter. Taehyung felt lost and a little unsatisfied, he knew he wouldn’t be able to feel completely satisfied until he actually fucked you. All he had to do was say it, you were dangling it right in front of him and he was too tongue tied to tell you how he actually felt. It was like all vocabulary and sense of communication was wiped clean whenever you were within a certain radius of him.

He slid back into his clothes, grabbing the tissues Hoseok conveniently had next to his bed, and wiped the small residue that was still on his stomach before he put his shirt back on. When his heart stopped pounding and he thought he was decent, he exited the room. Taehyung was set on finding you and speaking to you like a normal human being, his mind now cleared after those orgasms, so he felt sort of confident that he’d be able to get out a coherent sentence without sounding like an insecure loser.

Jungkook spotted him as he emerged from the hallway, his bunny smile spreading across his face when he saw how disheveled his friend looked, and considering he had seen you exit from that same spot minutes prior he knew what had gone down.

“Hey buddy.” Jungkook cooed obnoxiously, hands coming up to squeeze Taehyung's cheek, his fingers rubbing off the leftover residue of your lipgloss from his skin. He was drunk, breath smelling like vodka and his eyes glazed over, the classic dopey Jungkook smile on his face. Taehyung swatted his hands away from him with a grimace but Jungkook just slid beside him, slinging his arm across his shoulders and dragging him to the kitchen to get even more alcohol.

“So you fucked her right?” Taehyung accepted the drink, taking a sip as his eyes searched the room for you just like they had earlier.

“Sure,” he responded, not wanting to tell his friend that although you were both naked on top of each other and you had forced two orgasms out of him, he had not in fact been able to slide his dick inside of you.

Jungkook was too drunk to comprehend that sure didn’t exactly mean yes so he whooped, throwing his arms in the air with a laugh, and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile at his younger friend.

“Have you seen her by the way?”

Jungkook thought back to when he spotted you leaving Hoseok’s room, you had a look of satisfaction on your face as you walked through the house and headed for the backyard. You emerged back out with one of your friends beside you and you both laughed as you made a swift exit out of Jungkook’s house entirely. It was pretty obvious you wouldn’t be coming back.

“She definitely left.”

Taehyung could feel his heart sink at that. He should’ve spoken to you when you were both alone in the room instead of lying there in his post orgasmic glow. Too late.

He slid his phone out and decided he had to text you. The black line flickered on his phone, taunting him, waiting for him to type anything out, but he was stuck. What was he supposed to say? Thanks for the orgasms with a stupid emoji tacked at the end?

Taehyung 1:48am : You left so fast, get home safe

That’s what he settled on, and his eyes stayed glued on the phone when he saw the notification that you read it, three dots popping up as you typed a response back.

Y/N 1:52am : Sorry friend needed to get home and I was her ride.

Y/N 1:52am : Think about me tonight yeah? Goodnight busboy.

Taehyung thought about you alright. He thought about you often, frequently replaying the events that had happened that night as his fist wrapped around his cock on those nights where he was beyond desperate to cum.

The both of you hadn’t spoken much since the night of Hoseok and Jungkook’s party, due to the fact that finals were approaching and as much as you enjoyed this game you had with him, you also knew you needed to pass the classes you had. Taehyung doesn’t fault you for that, he was on the same boat, and if you had continued to tease him on the bus or through text message while he was already on the verge of a mental breakdown, he wasn’t sure he could survive it.

So it came as no surprise that when the semester came and went, the communication was once again severed, no longer having the morning commute to share together as winter break started.

Taehyung still thought of you often, every time you uploaded something onto your social media he stared at it for a minute too long, fingers urging to send you a message and start a conversation; but considering everything that had transpired between you two had been purely sexual he wasn’t sure a ‘haha funny meme’ message was going to get him very far.

When the second week of break rolled around and Taehyung started to go out with his friends, you began to slip his mind, the small acceptance of whatever you two had going fizzling away from his thoughts. He wondered if you forgot about him already, maybe you were home visiting family and had your sights set on another person.

With that thought engraved in his mind he allowed himself to go out with Jimin and Namjoon on a Saturday night, the three of them being the few of his friends that lived in the city and weren’t going home to their family for the holidays. They stood by the bar of some club closer to Jimin’s apartment, deeper into the city, a place Jimin swore the hottest girls frequented and when Taehyung scoped the crowd he took notice that Jimin was right.

It only took two shots to loosen him up enough to ease onto the dance floor, and only a few more minutes until a pretty redhead spotted him and made her way over, her hands trailing up onto his shoulder as she moved her hips in time with his. He smirked down at her, her eyes gleaming up at him while her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, she’s definitely his usual type. The way she gripped onto him when he slid his thigh in between her legs, how she easily gave in to the way he kissed his way into her mouth, eager to let him have his way with her. It’s no shock that he found himself tucked away in a corner of the club, letting her hands roam his chest as she latched her lips onto his neck while he dipped his hands under the hem of her skirt to play with her covered slit. It’s messy and he’s the one leading the way, it's familiar for him, but he can’t stop the small craving inside of him for something else, something different.

She whimpered into his mouth, not at all shy about being out in the open, and he can feel his cock throbbing at the thought of another girl that isn’t you for the first time—and you must have a sixth sense—there's no other explanation for him besides that when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

The nameless redhead whined at the loss of contact when he pulled his hand back to grab his phone, but he shushed her with a kiss, telling her he needed a minute. And that's all the convincing she needed to continue sucking hickeys into his neck.

When his phone lit up and he saw your name on his lock screen he blanked, eyes roaming behind him when he looked back to check if maybe you were here and that's why you were texting him. But when he unlocked the phone and saw the message you sent, it was oh so obvious that you were definitely not at the club.

The revelation of the photo you had sent catches him so off guard, he almost drops his phone, the device slipping through his fingers until he reacts and slammed it against his chest so hard to not let it clatter to the ground. The action winded him, the sharp pain of his phone wacking his chest had him wincing and it got the girl's attention.

Leaning back as her curious eyes peeked up to stare at him, instead she found herself staring at his chest, her face oddly lit up. The realization settled within him now, noticing that he must have flipped the phone over when he caught it and she was now clearly looking at the photo of you naked. The jaw dropping nudes you had sent, showcasing your boobs with your fingers on your nipple, wet with your arousal; and the second photo of your pussy on display had taken his breath away, but all it got him was a glare and a shove to his chest from the red head, muttering out that he was a pig as she pushed her way back to her friends.

He gulped as he flipped the phone around and analyzed the photo, a deep groan leaving him, because god dammit he had just started to come to terms that whatever you had was old news. You were always keeping him on his toes, it was going to fuck with his heart and his health.

Taehyung turned around and squinted through the flashing lights to hopefully find his friends, spotting Namjoon with a drink in one hand, his other clutching onto a blonde as they danced together, and he made his way over to him.

“I’m gonna head out,” he mumbled into Namjoon’s ear, ignoring the confused glance he gave him. The clear translation being: what the hell.

“We just got here.”

Taehyung knew this but he can’t hang around here with the thrumming bass and dance with other girls when you had just sent him these fucking photos. “Yeah, I don’t feel so hot. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take an uber just let Jimin know.”

Namjoon could only nod, not really wanting to separate himself from the cute girl he had grown fond of, but he would be forcing Taehyung to come out with them again next week. He just watched as his friend slipped through the crowd of the club until he stepped out.

When the cold air hit him Taehyung gulped it down, hands pressing against his face as he sighed and walked towards the brickwall on the side of the club. He couldn’t do this anymore, and with the alcohol numbing his common sense he didn’t think twice as he pulled his phone back out and opened up your message again, rechecking that you had in fact sent him those photos. And when he saw that you had, obscene photos still filling up his screen, he clicked the phone button and gave you a call.

He swore you weren’t going to answer him as the ring droned out, but when it cut off and all he heard is silence, he held his breath, wide eyes focusing on the cars driving on the street in front of him.

“Hi.”

Oh fuck.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He spoke out so softly, pleading into the phone as he grabbed a chunk of his hair in between his fingers.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” you hummed, phone pressed against your shoulder and ear as you lazily trailed a finger up and down your stomach.

“No!” he shouted, wincing when he saw other club goers give him an odd look. “No, but why me? We haven’t even spoken lately.”

“We’re speaking right now.”

He remained silent, not knowing how to respond to you, but he keeps the phone pressed against his ear, the soft sound of you breathing being the only noise he hears—until there's a small moan. It makes his blood run cold, eyes slipping shut as he imagined why you had made that noise.

“What are you doing?” He finds himself getting the courage to ask, enjoying the small laugh you let out as you admitted to touching yourself, so nonchalant and carefree about the fact that you were still the leading cause to his blue balls.

Taehyung was slightly tipsy, his mind whirling as he pictured your fingers sinking into your pussy like they had that night, the pretty sounds you had let out as your mouth was stuffed full of his cock and he groans. “Do you really enjoy making me suffer?”

“Oh, are you suffering?” you cooed into the receiver. “You know all you have to do is say it.”

He knew this, oh god did he know this and right now he’s way too lost in it all to even feel the embarrassment or unsureness he usually does when he’s around you, so he asks—no begs—to finally fuck you. “Please, please let me fuck you Y/N.”

Your own eyes shut as he said this, fingers coming back up to rest on your stomach while you sat up in your bed with a smile on your face, focusing on the object beside your bed. “Okay, I’ll let you, if you let me try something on you first.”

Taehyung doesn’t even care to ask what the hell you meant by that, his mind already set on fucking you, and when he agreed without a second thought you text him your address, your head whirling at whats to come.

Taehyung didn’t even realize when he got to your place, running on autopilot fueled by pure hormones as he got into the taxi and managed to somehow get to your apartment in one piece.

His fingers were shaking slightly as he punched in the code you had given him, the main door buzzing as it unlocked, and it's then that it hits him, he's actually here. He had actually voiced his want for you and now he was here, fuck.

You sat patiently on your living room couch, a soft oversized shirt on as you waited for him to make his way up. You had buzzed him in about a minute ago, so when you heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching in the hallway, you knew it was him.

The gentle knock against your door had you hopping up from your spot, slowly approaching it and pressing your eye against the peep hole to catch a glance at him. He stood a foot or so away, eyes squinting at his phone and back up at the number to make sure it was the right place, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of a neighbor.

Once you pulled open the door, you could tell he was nervous, hair a little messy on top of his head and face looking slightly flushed, but he stood up straight and gave you a smile.

“Hi,” he utters out, walking into your place when you stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. He half expected your apartment to look like a sex dungeon, dark and dim, covered in leather with a sex swing in the corner, but its surprisingly normal.

The soft pastel pinks and oranges greeting him is definitely not what he imagined but he likes it, his eyes locking onto a watermelon plushie with button eyes tucked into the edge of your couch.

“Taehyung, do you want some water?” you offer, wanting to ease him into this, but he just shakes his head, turning back around to face you and it's then that he realized you’re only wearing a shirt.

“If you’re drunk we don’t have to do this right now.”

Taehyung heard you loud and clear, but he can’t look away from your chest, every time he blinks he could see the image of your tits thanks to the picture you had graciously provided him with. It’s killing him because he knew you were currently bare underneath the thin shirt you have on.

To be honest he wasn’t drunk, barely even tipsy, the small amount of liquor he consumed tonight was way less than his normal amount. He felt woozy enough around you on a normal day, but he knew he definitely wasn’t too drunk to do what he had come here to do.

“No, I’m good. I swear.”

The determination in his tone was very clear but you still waited for him to stop blatantly staring at the way your nipples poked through the fabric of your shirt, until finally his gaze locked with yours, following behind you as you led the way to your bedroom.

When he entered your room his eyes were drawn to your bed, fluffy and inviting, draped in a soft peach duvet with light pillows, but knowing the absolutely filthy things you most likely did on it killed the small sense of innocence he initially felt. Especially when he spots the hitachi wand resting pretty at the edge of the bed.

You were staring at his profile when he spotted it and you saw the way he swallowed, wide eyes bulging out as he analyzed the toy. Was this what you had been using when you answered his phone call? He wasn’t sure, he hadn’t heard anything in the background...maybe it was one of those fancy zero noise ones.

When he heard you giggle he snapped out of it, turning to face you with curious eyes.

“Have you never seen one?” Taehyung remained silent as he thought, but it's pretty clear he hadn’t. There was never time for sex toys with one night stands in random houses, sure he had seen them in porn but real life felt different. He wished he had, he didn’t want to use this on you and fumble around and make a bigger fool of himself.

“I take it you’ve never used one then?” you ask again as you walk over to it, picking it up gently in your hands and approaching Taehyung thanks to the fact that it was wireless.

He could only shake his head, staring at it in your grasp as your fingers glided over the plastic handle, your thumb flicking it on and smiling when the low hum filled the room. It's on the lowest setting but that didn’t stop you from beginning to get excited.

“Would you let me try this on you Taehyung?”

He looked utterly confused by your question, not at all expecting to be on the receiving end of this. What did you mean by that?

“You mean like shove it up my ass?” He could see you trying not to laugh at him, biting your lip as you shook your head.

“No, it's not a dildo Tae. Use it here.” You reached out until it was gently pressed against his crotch, the wand buzzing over his jeans. He let out a grunt at the feeling, head dropping down to stare at the white silicone head weakly vibrating on him, taking a moment to get over the initial shock. He chalked it up to being slightly under the influence, but he really wanted you to turn it up.

It was clear to see how mesmerized he was by the device so you flicked it up a level, relishing in the small gasp he let out as his jaw dropped. It was barely a flutter of pleasure, but something about it excited him, had him craving more so he looked up at you, glassy eyes and all.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” He felt no shame when he told you that, groaning once more when you applied a hint of pressure against him.

The way your body reacted to his words was pure instinct, him admitting to letting you do as you please unhinged you. He saw it in the way you bit your lip, your eyes roaming his face until they dragged down his body, landing on his now half hard cock with the vibrating head of the wand still pressing against it.

“Fuck, please,” he begged, and when you retract the wand he almost takes it back. That is, until you were pulling him in, one hand tugging at his shirt until he's flushed against you, your lips meeting his in a frenzy, swallowing the moan he let out into the kiss. His hands stayed at his sides, not sure if he was allowed to touch you again considering you had told him not to last time, and you smirked when you realized it. Taehyung knew he would only be able to touch you if he deserved it, your words being engraved in his brain, and he was planning on earning that tonight.

“Good boy, you remembered.” you whispered out, lips brushing against his as you spoke. His eyes remained shut, the only indication that he heard being the small nod he gave you. Your hand inched up from the grasp you had in his shirt until you’re cupping his cheek gently.

“You see what happens when you’re good?” You kissed him again, pulling back once he started to press harder into you. “You get rewarded.” His breath shuddered against your face at the promise of being rewarded, and you smiled while reaching down to grab his hand and gently tugged him closer towards your bed, your right hand still holding the wand loosely by your side as he followed along.

“Do you want me–“ he paused to take a breath when you turned back around to face him. “Do you want me to strip?” His voice sounded so soft, unsure if asking you was the right thing to do, but him asking you this showed you that you’d managed to create another sliver in his outer shell. One step closer to cracking him.

You gave him another gentle kiss, nodding as you stepped back from him, eyes trained on his body while he began to tug at the black shirt he had tucked into his jeans, the material slowly sliding off his body and revealing his tan skin.

He didn’t feel uneasy at your staring this time around, being able to tell you’re clearly enjoying the view of him slowly undressing, your eyes focusing on his cock as it sprung out when he slid out of his briefs. Your hand clutched onto the wand a little tighter, fingers hovering over the power button with newfound enthusiasm, eager to make him squirm at the new sensation. And when he took it upon himself to settle onto your bed without you having to ask, you withheld the urge to clap in excitement.

Taehyung waited with baited breath when you kneeled onto the bed, shuffling your way up his body and setting the toy by his side, his body flinching slightly when the cool plastic touched his skin as it rolled on the bed. Resting your weight on your left hand, settled by his shoulder while your right hand softly cupped his cheek as you inched closer. His eyes looked at your lips before looking back down to his own hands, an unspoken question hanging off his tongue.

“My hands?” Is all he managed to get out, the rest of the question dying when he made eye contact but you only raised your brows up, making him realize he needed to be more specific. “Do you want them grabbing the headboard again?”

Leaning forward to kiss him once more, you smirked, witnessing how such a simple question could embarrass him so much due to him being in a different position than he was used to. “Ideally I’d want them cuffed and behind your back.” He shut his eyes at your words, cock throbbing as he pictured himself the way you wanted him. “But not today. Just keep them on the bed. Can you do that?”

Taehyung felt your lips press against his again and he nodded. “Y-yeah, yeah I can.”

He could feel you hum against his skin, the hand that was cupping his cheek beginning to trail down his chest, passing his navel until you reached his dick, fingers wrapping around him and beginning to slide your palm up and down. “Good.”

He sighed into your mouth as your hands squeezed around the base of his cock, twisting as it came up in a slow motion, wanting to ease him into the pleasure of it so as to not scare him when you grab the wand again. It only took a few minutes until he’s kissing you more relaxed, body sagging into the bed as he grunt softly into your mouth whenever you focused on his swollen tip; and that's when you reached over to your bedside table, grabbing the bottle of lube you had with your lips still attached to him.

They separate with a light smack, and you rest back onto his thighs, taking a moment to take him in, the way he’s laid out on your bed, chest heaving slightly while his weeping dick sat against his stomach. He watched you intently as you uncapped the lube you have, dropping a generous amount into your palm and wrapping it around his cock again. Taehyung hissed at the cool sensation, stomach tensing when you began a fluid motion only set on spreading the liquid, but he still groaned because he knew what was next.

You tried not to let the overt excitement show on your face when you reached over and grabbed the wand once more, thumb flicking it on to the lowest setting and pressing it against his thigh first, observing the way he jumped slightly at the sensation. “I know you’ve never used this before,” you start, trailing the vibrating head up onto his stomach and back down to his other thigh, dipping down slightly towards the center but staying off his cock. “So, you need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable at any moment okay?”

His thighs are tensing up already, getting desperate to feel something, anything. “Like a safe word?”

“Sure,” you hummed, staring back at his face and seeing the distraught look on it. He wasn’t sure why the idea of a safe word sent his mind into a flurry, he had never used one and having to think of one that he’d remember seemed almost impossible at the moment. “Or we can make it easy. You know traffic lights?”

He nodded. “Great. If you say green everything's going good, yellow is if you start to feel uncomfortable or need me to slow down, red is if you need me to stop completely. You say these at any time.”

You’re continuing to tease him as you explained this and Taehyung rested his head back, not wanting to see you as you clearly avoided giving his dick any attention.

“Okay, I got it. Green,” he groaned out, and you just chuckled, finally pressing the head of the vibrator against his cock. The low vibrations started at the base and his stomach tensed at the feeling, a tiny whine escaping him, hands having to resort to clutching your sheets again to stop himself from grabbing you and forcing you to switch it up a level.

The head of the vibrator bent slightly as you applied more pressure, thumb flicking it up two levels and enjoying the way he cursed, his head lifting back up to stare in awe as you slowly dragged it up an inch before coming back down, passing it right over his balls briefly.

“Oh shit,” he keened, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, not being able to thrust up into it because you were still resting on his thighs.

“Aren’t you glad you told me yes?” you asked teasingly, sliding it up until it was nuzzled right against his frenulum before kicking it up another two levels. His reaction had you dripping against his thighs, arm muscles taut from how hard he’s grabbing the duvet, stomach caving in as he moaned out unabashedly.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “yes, I am.” Taehyung had no idea something like this could feel so good, he was so accustomed to hearing women talking about vibrators and he thought it was a load of shit. Clearly he had been very, very wrong.

Even though you’re focusing it on the underside of his tip, slowly raising the levels up until he’s squirming, he felt like his whole lower body was vibrating. The telltale signs of his orgasm creep up on him, the feeling only increasing when your fingers wrap around his shaft and you hold the vibrator against his swollen tip. The fluttering feeling of pressure building up becoming more consistent, his breath leaving him in huffs as he tried to force it away.

You can tell by the way his body started to tense up, your finger turning it up another level to push him further. “Are you gonna cum already? I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

He whined loudly, desperately trying to sink his hips into the bed to ease the pressure but your hands followed his movements, his head whipping to the side as he scrunched his face up. “Fuck, I do–I do want to fuck you, god–“ he gasped out when you started to circle the head of the toy around his tip, the rolling pleasure becoming too much. “Unghh, please let me f-fuck you.”

His stomach began to shudder more aggressively, hips wiggling around and you smirked down at him, his face finally turning back up to stare at the ceiling, his brows pulled together tightly with unshed tears prickling his waterline. “Hold it Taehyung.”

He nearly sobbed at your demand, taking in a deep breath as he shut his eyes once more, forcing himself to try to tune out his nearing release. His heart feels tight in his chest, blood thrumming so loud in his head, eyes burning as the tears finally spill over. But it’s too late, the tingling feeling had started to spread throughout his body and he knew he was a few seconds away from blowing his load.

Taehyung let out a pained moan. “Fuck I can’t, y-yellow, yellow!” You let go of his cock, the vibrator lowering in intensity before easing off and going back to trail on his stomach and thighs as his close release faded away, letting him whimper as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment you switched the toy off entirely and set it aside on the bed, soft hands running along his skin to help calm him down, reaching up to gently wipe away his fallen tears. “Don’t be sorry, you did good.”

He sighed in relief, glad that he hadn’t ruined it by not being able to hold off his orgasm, he tried the best he could but the only way he wanted to cum was after he sank into you.

You gave him another minute to come down, easing off of his thighs to tug your shirt off of your body, the material landing in a heap on the floor and that grabbed Taehyung's attention. He looked at your body with desire, wanting to reach out and grab you, kneading your flesh as he cupped your tits and ass, but he's done so well so far so he holds himself back. The only daring touch he allowed is his thumbs gently rubbing against your knees as they rest on either side of his thighs.

You let the touch slide as you bent forward and kissed him, reaching over to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. Leaning back from him, you tear it open with your teeth and slowly ease it onto his throbbing cock, hearing him groan when your hands add a bit of pressure at his base once it's fully rolled on.

“You okay?” you ask softly. He looked dazed out, no longer tipsy from his earlier adventure but his mind was working on overdrive, the abundance of fantasies he’s had of you are coming to fruition. He was finally going to know what it felt like to actually fuck you, and he was scared his excitement would make him cum a minute in, especially after he had forced his last orgasm away.

“Yeah, just–“ he swallowed harshly, letting his head fall back into the plush pillows. “Give me a minute please.” You smirked at the slightly pained expression on his face, but you hummed anyways, letting his dick lay back above his stomach as you leaned forward and opted for kissing him softly, fingers slowly trailing through his hair to help calm him down.

Taehyung shivered as your nails gently scraped down until you reached his neck, his hips beginning to rut up against you, clearly being ready to continue.

“Please,” he starts again, groaning as you tugged his lower lip between your teeth, letting it snap back gently. “Let me fuck you. I’ve been good right?” He still felt his face flush at his own words but a strange sense of pleasure also coursed through him when you nodded in response.

Your hand reached down between your bodies, grabbing his cock to tease around your entrance. “Yes Tae, you’ve been very good.” He held his breath as you started to ease down onto him, the both of you groaning at the pleasant stretch of your walls, his jaw dropping while he kept his eyes glued at the sight of his thick cock parting your lips.

“Holy shit,” he gasped out when you fully sank onto him, giving him a moment as you rested your hands on his chest, biting your lip at how full you felt.

Kim Taehyung’s dick lived up to its name, long and girthy with the prettiest veins running along the underside of it, the slightest curve of it allowing it to gently nudge along the sweet patch inside of you. It filled you up perfectly, leaving you stunned above him as you adjusted to his size.

When his breathing evened out, you peeked a glance at him, his forehead slightly damp from the earlier teasing. He looked so utterly fucked out and desperate and it urged you on; you were determined to crack him, show him how great this could be, and so far he seemed more than willing to let go of control.

As you start a slow rhythm, you wished you could bind his wrists behind his back, strapped into a chair, wrapped up in the pretty red rope you used to use on Jungkook, or even drape your favorite blindfold over his eyes like you used to with Hwasa; but you didn’t want to push him further, you were letting him dip his toe into this.

Taehyung was so used to being in control, so used to being the one in charge of giving for himself, and when he had heard the way you spoke to him: praising him for behaving, all giggly and soft after you had made his mind blank from an orgasm, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to his normal.

His thumb was still grazing your knees, every time he flicked them upward on your skin he could feel your muscles tense as you lift yourself off of him and snap back down, the sound of your skin slapping together filling up the room. They mixed in with your soft moans, nearly concealing how affected you were by this, hiding the small cries of pleasure felt from the tip of his cock nudging the sweetest spots deep within you.

Taehyung could feel his blood buzzing in his ear, the feeling of being buried inside of you going beyond what he ever thought, his heart continuing to pound when he felt you tighten around his length.

“Is this worth you leaving whoever you were with earlier tonight?”

Your words caught him off guard for a moment, having to clear the heady feeling in his brain, and he took a moment to wonder how you knew he was with someone, but then your fingers came to prod at the hickeys littering his neck.

Half moons marked his skin as your nails came down to his chest, lightly digging into his skin and he hissed, hips thrusting up slightly. “Shit, I–“ he whined when you began to grind against him, slow rocks of your hips letting him feel the glide of your walls against his cock. “Yes, so worth it.”

You let yourself lean more against his chest, tits pressed along his skin as you brought your face closer. “Do you think she would’ve been able to make you feel this good?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it, immediately shaking his head. “No—fuck, just you.”

You pressed a kiss directly underneath one of the hickeys, leaning back again and cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you resumed bouncing on top of him. Sinful slaps of your skin connecting fill up the room like it belonged there, arousal gushing out of you when he whimpers at the visual of you riding him.

The whiny pleas he let out proved he’s edging close to his release again, making a heat pool in your gut, and he shocks you when he requests for you to place your hands around his throat. He had always been interested in choking, albeit he always imagined he’d be the one with his hands wrapped around someone but this felt right, your thumb and middle finger pressing into his carotid artery had all the stars aligning in his eyes.

Your eyes widened at his reaction, not expecting him to be bold enough to ask for this considering it took him this long to tell you he wanted to fuck you, but you’d take it. You’d take his half lidded gaze as you applied pressure on his neck, his stomach caving in slightly everytime you slid back down on his length, your walls squeezing him deliciously as he neared his end; you’d take all of it. .

He could feel his mind going hazy, drifting up as every nerve in him tingled, hyper fixated on the repeated raunchy, wet sound of you riding him. Taking note of his floaty appearance, you sped up your pace, tightening up around him as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. “You feel so good Taehyung, cum for me.”

He shivered slightly at your words, your hands squeezing a little tighter against his neck, and suddenly he's cumming. His body was set alight as the feeling caught him by surprise, eyes bulging out and a choked gasp leaving his mouth when you released his throat.

He let out a loud moan of your name, rutting his hips up into you as his dick twitched and filled up the condom, spine sparking with pleasure as you continued to rut against him. “Oh fuck,” he cried out, his hand coming up to tangle into his hair while the small after shocks of his orgasm hit him.

When you reached over to grab the forgotten hitachi wand, his mind blanks, seeing you continuing to grind against his still hard dick as you pressed the head of the wand against your clit had him at a loss.

Fuck you’re hot.

When you smiled down at him, your mouth dropping open slightly when you found the sweet spot, he realized he uttered that out loud. Another groan of his spilled out again when he felt the vibrations against his own cock from how high you had the settings.

You give up on fucking him, letting his cock stay nuzzled deep inside of you as you pressed one hand against his ribs while you hunched over and moaned. The intensity of the vibrator had your whole body trembling, buzzing directly against your swollen clit with precision, making your velvety walls pulse around his sensitive cock.

The feeling of your orgasm came on strongly, your hand pressing the toy harder against you, and Taehyung felt like he could cum again as you tightened your walls around him, the sensation making him softly rut up into you.

“Oh god, fuck Taehyung,” you gasped out, throwing your head back as your orgasm finally hit you. All Taehyung could do was stare at you in a daze as you came undone, small whimpers leaving your lips as your hips twitched, chasing the pleasure until you were sighing and shutting off the toy, body still trembling from the aftershocks.

When you tossed it aside you stayed sat on him, breath heaving as you hunched over him slightly. His hands that were on your knees fully came up onto your thighs to gently massage them, wanting to comfort you, the mutual understanding that he was allowed to touch you after sex being passed between you.

After a minute, you slowly eases yourself off of his soft length, pulling off the condom and tossing it into the bin beside the bed.

Taehyung was entirely spent. Tonight had felt like the longest night of his life, and his eyes were drifting shut when he felt you straddle him again, your arms resting on his chest as you stared up at his sleepy form.

His eye cracked open and he grinned at you when he saw the look on your face; it was the sweet smile you wore when you were up to no good. The fingers on your left hand gently spelled your name on his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, your chin rested on top of your arm and you laughed when you saw his eyebrow raise up in question.

“What?” he asked. You were clearly out of the mood that made you want to bind and tease Taehyung until he was crying, wanting to reassure him and make sure he was comfortable after doing things you knew he wasn’t used to with your soft touches.

You hummed softly as you stared into his eyes. “Kim Taehyung is into choking huh?”

His face flushes immediately as he replays his request in his mind, and you pat his chest to get him to stare at you, a small frown on your face at his clear embarrassment. “Hey, it wasn’t a tease. It’s hot.”

Taehyung raised both brows now, staring at you like you had said something absolutely foreign to him. Tonight was a night of firsts and realizations, who knew Taehyung loved the feeling of a vibrator on his cock, and who knew he had a kink for your hands around his throat. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” you mused, lifting up slightly to inch closer to his face. “Seeing you squirming while I choked you was the hottest thing.”

He could only stare at you, the gears in his head turning as he thought of what just happened. He never imagined he’d be into giving someone control like that. Taehyung knew it was minuscule, but this was all new to him and he loved it already, his brain wondering how much further you could take it.

“You know, I’m kinda into it.” He looked away from you as he said this, still not confident in admitting it and he knew it was silly, especially when he could see how much hearing these words lit your face up.

Your eyes shut when he admitted to this; it always felt like finding gold when you got a man to confess to enjoying this. So many men were always afraid to admit to liking how it felt when a girl took control over them, no matter how subtle, and Taehyung was someone you thought would be a little harder to break down.

“Are you?”

He hummed, his hands finally coming up higher to touch you and his warm grip caught you off guard. But he takes his time as he trails his fingers up and down your sides, gliding across your back, sliding them into your hair and tugging you closer until he’s kissing you, the first time he’s ever taken control of any situation.

He relished in the small gasp you let out as he licked the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping in and massaging against yours slowly for a brief moment until he’s pulling back. Taehyung realized that this is the longest conversation you two have had in person, and the first one where he didn’t feel like a babbling idiot.

“Is there more we can try next time?” he wondered softly, nudging your noses together and kissing you again briefly.

Your mind was already picturing how he’d look tied up, cock swollen and dripping with a cockring sat snuggly around his base, maybe a thick collar around his neck. You could ease him into trying out some of the floggers you have, or tempt him into wax play, maybe ice cubes if he was wary of the wax. So many ideas that had you squirming on top of him with anticipation, and when he saw that look on your face he found himself smiling with you.

“Oh, there's so much Taehyung. You just have to tell me what you’re comfortable with.” Your fingers are raking through his own hair now as he leaned into the touch. “Can you do that?”

When your fingers tugged the strands, he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Pressing your lips against his again, he feels you smirk against his skin, the small sharpness of your teeth sinking into his lip making him groan. “Good boy.”

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jarofstyles · 4 years ago

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Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH.

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy.

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty.

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous.

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line.

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying.

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit.

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.”

Great. Already rambling.

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm.

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised.

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name.

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it.

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit.

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited.

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little 📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as.

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down.

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to.

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more.

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note.

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her.

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends.

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting.

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful.

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to.

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already.

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out.

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault.

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it?

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying.

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story.

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy.

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery.

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek.

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked.

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit.

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this.

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck.

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal.

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing.

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion.

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up.

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this.

At least, that was until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

-------------------------------------------------

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fific7 · 4 years ago

Text

Ticket to Ride - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The aircraft door opened and you stepped out gratefully onto the air jetty. You weren’t scared of flying, you just didn’t like being cooped up in a flying tube for several hours on end. Up an escalator and along a short corridor and then you were able to see outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was beginning to shade into the colours it would take on for dusk. It looked like it had been a nice day and you hoped the good weather would continue for your stay.

Karen had texted you while you were sitting on the plane at JFK, waiting for it to push back. Frank had told her that Micro had tracked your phone to the airport so boy, were you glad you’d turned off your old phone and switched to the new one when you did. She’d also told you that Billy had asked him to find out where you were headed, and your heart sank. You knew it wouldn’t take long for Micro’s vast and nerdy computer skills to find you but then again, London was a huge city and they’d have no idea whereabouts in it you’d gone to ground, thanks to your new ‘burner phone’.

You were feeling super-excited. This was beginning to feel like an action movie, with you on the run from the bad guys.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“London??!!” Billy shouted, making Frank quickly move his phone away from his ear on the other end. “Yeah, London,” he replied.

Billy was back at his usual post by the window. “I mean... obviously I knew she was gonna fly somewhere but I thought it would the West coast, Miami, Seattle, Alaska... somewhere like that. But to go to a whole other continent....!!!!” Frank sighed, “Yeah, Bill, sounds like she’s really not keen to bump into you anytime soon.” “Yeah, thanks for remindin’ me.” “Bill, you brought this on yourself, buddy.” “I know!” yelled Billy, “An’ all I wanna do is get her back and make it up to her for the rest of my life, and all I know is she’s in London! Do you know how big that place is?” “Yeah, I do. And t’be honest... I dunno how you’re gonna even try to find her over there.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. “I mean...” Frank continued, “I’m guessin’ you are gonna go over there and try to find her, Bill?”

Billy’s shoulder twitched upwards briefly, and he stared intently out the window at the New York skyline.

“Yeah, Frankie... yeah, I damn well am.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d left two of your big suitcases and the backpacks in a luggage storage facility at JFK, travelling with just the one suitcase and a large shoulder bag. You took the overground Heathrow Express to Paddington before negotiating a change onto the Tube to reach Tower Hill DLR station, boarding one of the driverless trains out to Canary Wharf. Settling back into your seat, feeling pretty proud of yourself for managing not to get hopelessly lost.

Your AirBnB apartment was in a part of the city called Docklands, beside the Thames on the Isle of Dogs. It was an area of shiny skyscraper offices and fancy apartment blocks built round the old docks, and your accommodation for the next two weeks was in one of those. You were suitably impressed when you got inside it... open plan, all trendy furniture and gleaming fittings. Big, big windows with views of the river and the tall buildings.

Your phone chimed and you saw a text from Karen on your notifications. Taking your suitcase and bag into the bedroom, you went back out to the main area and sat on the sofa to read it. Oh. Billy now knew you were in London, and had apparently booked a flight over - he’d be arriving tomorrow. Your heart rate sped up; Billy was a sniper, used to finding, stalking, watching his prey. But, you told yourself, he had no idea whereabouts in the city you were and no way of finding you.

Relax.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy stepped off the Heathrow Express, looking around for signs indicating where the taxi rank was. He’d been looking at the Tube map during the train journey. Nah, fuck that.

He was too wired to even think about getting to London Bridge on the Underground, or ‘Tube’ as he found out Londoners called it. His brain had been working overtime trying to figure out how the hell he was going to find her in a city the size of London. She’d stay central, surely - she wouldn’t head to the suburbs, he felt confident of that.

Getting into the first taxi in the queue, he drawled out, “The Shard, please.” The taxi driver nodded and pulled away from the station without saying anything. Thank fuck, thought Billy, I can’t be dealing with a talker right now. But just as the thought had left his head, the driver’s London accent said, “First time in London, guv?” Billy sighed, “No. No, it isn’t.” In fact it was, but he wasn’t about to tell the driver that. He’d only end up getting taken on the ‘scenic route’, double the time, double the price.

The driver grunted and turned up the radio... really annoying music could now be heard but Billy would take that over inane small talk any day. He looked out of the windows at the city streets and his mind went back to his mission. Mission impossible. Finally he saw the river and the taxi crossed a wide bridge before pulling up outside the lofty skyscraper that was The Shard. According to the blurb he’d read on some travel website it was the tallest in Western Europe, and while there were taller buildings in New York, the shape of this one made it look quite dramatic.

He paid and got out of the taxi with his expensive wheeled duffel bag, heading to the Shangri La entrance of The Shard and going inside. (It’s one of the priciest hotels in London - of course). Checked in at reception on the 35th floor, he was then whisked up to his room on the 52nd by another express lift. The windows were huge and the views spectacular.

Once again, he was gazing out of a window at a cityscape.

Where is she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your first full day, you occupied yourself with getting to know the surrounding area, doing some grocery shopping and sitting on your large balcony, enjoying the view and relaxing with a glass of wine.

Every time a plane went overhead you wondered if Billy was on it - he was due here today. You shook yourself a little, you’d just have to stop thinking about it. He wouldn’t find you.

Your mind wandered unbidden to his recent behaviour. Knowing Billy was a player from day one, you’d still got involved with him. More fool you. Another old cliché.... you thought you’d be the one to change him. And you thought you had. You’d dated him for a few months, he seemed to have ditched his old hound-dog ways and when he’d asked you to move in with him, you’d agreed without thinking it over too deeply.

Now, looking back, it seems like you’d made a big mistake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro had spent quite some time constructing a query table that he could run against accommodation reservations in London for her arrival day. She had no reason to book under another name and he’d just have to run with that assumption.

When Billy had come directly to him instead of going via Frank to ask that he try and track down her reservation, Micro had been too scared to refuse. Billy still really unsettled him - he always reminded him of a circling predator.

This query would take a while to run. He hit the go button and wandered off to work on another project while it tunnelled its way through layer upon layer of data.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was pacing his swanky hotel room like a caged panther. He’d given up on the idea of roaming the streets of London trying to spot his target, that was just one dumbass idea. He’d never find her that way, much better to just wait on that geeky twat to come up with the answer with his internet wizardry.

He’d spoken to Frank earlier, who had nothing new to report. Billy wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty at cutting him out of the loop on his recent ask to Micro. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Frank wouldn’t mention it to Karen. Much as he loved him like a brother, Frank was a big sap when it came to Karen and he knew he’d give in and tell her, probably sooner rather than later.

However Frank had told him that Madani had called earlier that day, wanting to know where Billy was and why she couldn’t get in touch with him. Billy had figured out that his girl had got herself a new phone, and he’d followed suit. Which is why Dinah hadn’t been able to reach him. “Whaddya tell her?”he’d asked. “That you were on an overseas operation and were incommunicado.” “Good,” nodded Billy, “....that takes care of that little problem for a while at least,” feeling a sense of relief.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank cut the call, a grim smile on his face. He hadn’t been completely straight with Billy, but it was for his own good. What he’d told Madani, however, had been the unadulterated gospel truth.

He’d said to her that Billy had hared off to Europe in pursuit of his live-in girlfriend, who’d suspected him of cheating on her and left him. He was absolutely determined to get her back.

He’d taken great satisfaction in the dead silence on the other end of the line, eventually punctuated by an angry snort and the call being abruptly ended.

That ‘little problem’ was hopefully taken care of for good.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro looked at his phone as it beeped at him, the notification saying that his query was complete. That had taken much longer than he thought it would. Now he could only hope it hadn’t returned too many matches as he’d thought it prudent to run it on surname only.

He pulled up the results table and was pleased to see that there were only a thousand or so, he’d feared there would be many more. He scrolled through the list and quickly pinpointed the one he’d been looking for.

With a deep sigh he picked up his phone, typed “Wood Wharf, Water St, London E14”, a building and apartment number into a new message, then hit send. It would be the early hours of the following morning in London, so he very much doubted that Billy would leap out of bed and head right over there.

He finished eating his supper, drank a beer and settled down to watch TV when his conscience started bothering him. Should he? He shivered when he thought about what Russo might do to him if he found out.

Popping another bottle of beer open, he sat and contemplated what he should do for quite a while. He suddenly picked up his phone, sending a quick text to Frank telling him about the whole situation and including the fact that Russo now had her London address.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

While you were lounging on your balcony, sipping your wine and watching the world go by, it suddenly occurred to you that this would be a great base to work out of for a while. You messaged the estate agent and extended your stay to one month, with an option to extend if required.

Then, on a whim, you booked a flight to Barcelona early the next morning from City Airport - it was really close to your apartment even if the flights were a bit more expensive. You’d been doing a little research into other destinations to explore, and having a base in London to travel to and from made you feel much more comfortable. The W Barcelona had caught your eye while you’d been browsing for accommodation and as you were only going for a few nights, you’d booked in there.

Feeling extremely pleased with yourself, you got up and went into your bedroom, looking for a folded-up smaller travel bag you knew you’d packed in your luggage. Finding it, you began to choose some outfits for your short trip, thinking what a joy it was that you could now leave your large suitcase here.

But damn, you were going to have to be up early tomorrow. Best to get an early night, you thought, immediately yawning.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy shot up in bed as his phone chimed with Micro’s text. When he read the information in the text, contrary to Micro’s belief he did leap out of bed and started pulling on his clothes (Micro had forgotten that this was an ex-Marine he was dealing with here).

He sat back down on the bed and googled the location. Oh okay, East London.... Docklands. Too far to walk and he didn’t think the Tube ran at this hour. Then he pulled up the Uber app and booked an immediate pick-up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Walking into the terminal building at City Airport, you were in the middle of a total yawning fit when a text came in. It was from Karen and you stopped, putting down your bag so you could read it.

Karen: Sorry to tell you this hon, but Billy went direct to Micro 🙄 and intimidated him into finding your London accom. Frank’s told him not to do that again no matter how much he’s shitting himself! Please take care of yourself 💋

You: Bastard 👿 thanks for the heads-up, I will do 😘

Picking your bags up again, you hurried over to one of the automated check-in machines to get your luggage tag.

Whoever had said ‘timing is everything’ had definitely got that right.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Oi!!!” yelled an irate male voice. Billy turned his head to see a groggy-looking tousle-haired guy, obviously just having been woken up. “Keep the noise down!”

Billy said nothing, just gave the guy his death stare. His head quickly disappeared back inside his apartment.

After pressing the buttons of a few apartment numbers at the main entrance, someone had buzzed him in and he’d been pounding on her apartment door for the last five minutes. But there was no response, and he knew she wasn’t that heavy a sleeper.

He slid tiredly down onto the floor outside her door. Had she somehow known he was on his way over here? No.... how would she know that?

His head dropped down in momentary defeat and he ran his fingers through his hair, groaning.

She hadn’t moved on already, had she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The plane lifted off the tarmac, and immediately you felt a huge sense of relief. You just weren’t ready to see Billy right now - you’d probably kill him if you did, ex-Marine or not.

Now you were off on your next adventure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

London

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #ben barnes #the punisher 💀

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chasingpj · 4 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

"You’re really sweet, water boy.”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,379

warnings: angsty, mentions of breaking down, one curse word

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! I hope you guys like this chapter. If you have any feedback let me know. i've read this chapter over like 1,000 times while editing so i can't even give my own opinion on this chapter lol. i hope someone likes it at least cause i'm a little iffy about this one.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality!”

The singing voices of the Apollo cabin harmonize as Atticus stands in the middle of their cabin, eyes closed with his arms swaying side to side in the air. You sit against the window frame at the end of the room, your lips curl in a soft smile as Harvey prances around his feet, enjoying the spotlight as much as Atticus is. You were glad that Atticus was still up for karaoke night despite his mood. Although you didn’t plan on coming yourself, you had hoped that he would as he needed it as an outlet to let loose. A part of you wasn’t surprised when Atticus was begging you to come with him, insisting that your plan of staying in and sleeping early was too lame for a Friday night at camp. You didn't want to make him upset so you decided to suck it up and go with him. Besides, you did need to get out.

The past few days, you’ve had your nose in books, drowning out your thoughts with everything from studying demonology to enjoying fantasy novels. You’ve been keeping an eye on Lou Ellen as well, noticing that she too was avoiding her feelings by drowning herself with books back to back. And now, as a result of your similar coping mechanism, you two have an exclusive book club where you spend hours reading and mercilessly criticizing Twilight. Meanwhile, Atticus has been up and around, constantly surrounding himself with people to distract him. He seemingly was doing fine on the surface, but it was a facade. Sorrow was radiating off of him like never before. Even if you didn’t have the ability to sense his emotions, his song choice for tonight was a dead giveaway. Bohemian Rhapsody is his comfort song.

“I’m just a poor boy. I need no sympathy!” Atticus sings passionately into the microphone. Cheers break throughout the cabin, and you giggle, joining in, cupping your mouth as you whoop for him. You look over at Lou Ellen, talking and laughing with a few girls across the room. You smile, content that for right now, the two of them are occupied and happy. You, however, couldn’t get into the mood. Sure, the chaos of the Apollo Cabin easily entertained you, but you were having trouble shaking off the heavy feeling in your chest. You frown, your hand coming down to pet the top of Ambrose’s head, the other nuzzling his snout against your leg to comfort you. You look down at him, smiling softly as a silent thank you, and you sigh, hoping to lighten the feeling in your chest, but to no avail, it remained.

A nudge on your shoulder draws in your attention, and you turn to face the boys standing to your left. You meet Lee Fletcher’s bright blue orbs, a smile plastered on his flushed face.

“You’re next!” He shouts over the music, pointing his index finger at you in the same hand he held a red solo cup in. You scrunch your face, moving a little closer to him and the group so they’ll be able to hear you.

“I’m not really in the performance mood tonight,” you say, and the immediate protests from the boys around him made you smile. They insisted that you had to sing tonight and that they were going to make sure you went after your brother. On any other night, you would have agreed, gladly taking the mic. You weren’t a stranger to singing karaoke, and you had to admit you did enjoy it just as much as Atticus did. Last week, you sang an interesting rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls with Lou Ellen, Silena, Katie, and Sage. You were Scary Spice, of course; you wouldn’t have been anyone else. But tonight, you were unable to see yourself singing. Now that the boys returned to whatever they were talking about, you were planning your escape. You tune back into the song, realizing that Atticus was almost finished.

“Nothing really matters; anyone can see. Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters, to mee.”

You take a deep breath for a moment, accepting your fate. It’s only one song, you tell yourself; it’ll be quick. You cringe, expecting to be pushed up to the front by the others any second now. Suddenly, chanting fills the cabin,

“Encore, encore!"

Atticus smiles, bowing like a Broadway actor as the crowd cheers. You sigh, relieved, and you hoped whatever he picked would be able to conceal your exit. There was no way Atticus was going to pass up the microphone, and over the chanting, he announced his next song choice: Dancing Queen.

He’s so depressed.

You didn’t want to miss your opportunity, slowly scooting yourself away from Lee Fletcher and the others. As the instrumental of Dancing Queen fills the cabin, a chunk of people get up from the bunk beds and the floor to dance and sing along. You take your chance now that everyone is distracted, and you walk into the crowd, carefully weaving through bodies.

The cool summer night air was refreshing on your skin compared to the stuffiness of the crowded cabin. The collective singing of Dancing Queen becomes faint as you make it across the camp. You didn't realize how loud the song was while you were in there, and you could just imagine what the other cabins were doing. You couldn’t help but smile at the idea of an annoyed Ares' cabin, all of them with pillows covering their ears in an attempt to drown out the music and screaming.

By the time you reached the beginning of the woods, the disco instrumental was long gone, and you took in the stillness of the night. There was barely a breeze tonight; the only sounds were the faint chattering of campers hanging around the hearth and taking walks. You stare into the forest, uncertain if you should venture by yourself. You hear a soft whine come from Ambrose, signaling you that it was a bad idea. It was a couple of hours away from curfew, and you can already hear the faint roars of monsters. That wasn’t enough to turn you away, though. Your desire to be somewhere silent was more prominent than your fear of the monsters.

You walk in without another thought, your pace slow and slack, and Ambrose unwillingly follows close behind you, checking around to make sure you are safe. As you walk farther in the forest, the thoughts you had sent to the back of your mind were returning with a vengeance.

The departure of your siblings felt surreal. When you had woken up to their empty beds the next day, you had chosen to believe they had left for breakfast earlier than usual and that everything that happened was a dream. Yet, as the days went by, the absence of your siblings became more apparent. A part of you refused to grieve. You had wanted to declare your brothers as monsters and convince yourself that you didn’t care. You had hoped that deciding to hate them would allow you to move on, but even that came with a desolate aftertaste.

You had blacked out in your thoughts, allowing your feet to take you where they wished, and you find yourself at a familiar boulder. You look to your left at the picnic table, staring longingly at it. It was quiet for a moment before the sight of your brother and sisters sitting on the top of the picnic table, their feet resting on the bench, appeared. They sat quietly, Atticus frowning as he looked out in the forest.

“Focus on your breathing. You won’t shift if you’re impatient.” Your gaze snaps in the direction of the voice. You saw yourself slouched in defeat as Alabaster’s hands gripped your shoulders. His green eyes peered into yours.

You were the only one that hadn’t become ethereal after trying for the past 30 minutes. Atticus had transformed on his second try, Lou Ellen on her third, and the others followed close after. But you had lost count, growing more tired and discouraged after every failed attempt. Alabaster noticed you were on the verge of tears, your lip trembling, and he easily saw that you were crawling into a bad headspace.

“I can’t do it,” you sniffled, feeling embarrassed as your siblings waited for you. You were aware they weren’t judging you and had instead been encouraging you the entire time, but you still felt ashamed. The voices in your mind taunted you, making you forget any positive feedback you received that day. You were the weakest link of the group. You were never going to be powerful as your brothers, and so you’ll never be recognized by your mother, it said.

“You can, Y/n. You’re getting too in your head,” Al reassured you, his hands falling to his side, taking a step back. You were confident that he had given up on you, and you didn’t blame him. You looked down at the ground and fiddled with your fingers. It was silent for a moment before you heard him sigh.

“Try again,” he said softly.

You groaned and rolled your eyes at yourself. You were drained from trying so long, and you were ready to accept your defeat and stomp away. You looked at Alabaster again as he patiently waited for you.

You swallowed hard, and you closed your eyes as you heard the encouraging words of your siblings. Their words failed to cancel out the negative thoughts in your own head, though. You were already bothered by the little voice that said you would never transform. You dwelled on being the last one and what made you feel worse was that it was nighttime - when your magic is at its strongest - yet you still hadn’t transformed. Maybe you weren’t as powerful as your brothers gave you credit for. Disappointment swirled in your stomach, clouding your brain, and your fist clenched as you tried to shake off the thoughts in your head. You were well aware that your mindset was holding you back. You inhaled deeply, somehow finding the will to set aside your negative thoughts.

You decided you won’t allow yourself to be the only person who couldn’t transform. You weren’t going to let your insecurity of being the “weakest link” get to you, at least not on that night. You huffed out and felt a tug in your core before your fingertips and toes began to vibrate. You gasped, and your eyebrows furrowed tightly, the vibrating sensation gradually becoming more intense to the point where it almost hurt.

You heard an excited cheer come from one of your sister's lips as the feeling crept up your arms and legs. It finally met your core, and it was as if a ball of warm, electric energy sat right in the pit of your stomach. You opened your eyes, immediately seeing the bright smile on Alabaster’s face. A relieved laugh came from your lips as a few tears ran down your face from your previously pent-up anger.

“I told you.”

You snap back to reality, looking around you to see that you were still alone. No one was at the picnic table other than Ambrose, who was laid down at the foot of it, watching you cautiously. You swore you heard the sound of Al’s voice as if he was right in front of you, but that wasn’t possible. As much as you wished for it to be, you knew your siblings were long gone.

Though you were incredibly grateful for Atticus and Lou Ellen deciding to stay, the dynamic that your siblings had as a whole was something that you wouldn’t be able to get back. Now it was the three of you, left to figure things out on your own. It’s not as if you three were incapable of figuring things out, but you’ll miss your brother's guidance.

You think perhaps if your mother didn’t give them the okay to leave, they would have never left. You couldn’t help but be mad at her, and lately, you’ve been a little petty towards your mom. Tonight, you had decided to go to dinner and dedicate your burned offering to Hestia instead. You’ve been praying to her every night as well, hoping that maybe she’d be able to bring your siblings back to you.

You hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary to inform you if your mother was aware of your silence or if she cared. You also found yourself wondering what she thought of you for not leaving. How could she not visit you? Were you really not worth, maybe, five minutes of her time? Did you have to prove yourself worthy? If so, how? You were yearning to know, but even for that, you were unable to find the answer.

Your jaw clenches, feeling your sorrow shifting to rage in your core. Take a deep breath, Ernest would say, and you do, filling your lungs to their capacity, and you hold it. Think of your surroundings. Meditate on the question: If I erupt, will I hurt someone? If the answer is yes, take a step back, breath in for 10 seconds, out for another 10 until you’re calm. If the answer is no… well, fuck it. Everyone needs to be angry sometimes.

Your head tilts slightly, taking in the clear night sky for a moment. From your peripheral vision, you can see your green aura wildly swirling and flickering around you. You close your eyes, and your chest expands, ready to release the air you’ve been holding. There was no rustling of the trees or grass, no monster screams, no sounds of the surrounding camper. The forest was still until it wasn’t as you let out a deafening scream.

After hearing the news of your siblings running away from camp at the counselor's meeting a few days ago, Percy had made a mental note to check up on you. In the time between his activities, he had checked the strawberry fields, the arts and craft center, even the arena in an attempt to find you. For a moment, he had thought you had left with them, but when he saw that Atticus was still at camp, he knew you had to be somewhere. It wasn’t until he passed by the Hermes dinner table the other day did he decide to ask your brother where you were. By then, you had not shown up for your meals for two days straight. Atticus told him that you weren’t doing too good, deciding to isolate yourself in the company of Lou Ellen. He had offered to let Percy come with him to drop off your dinner, but he had decided not to go.

He figured that you needed time for yourself, and he didn’t want to intrude. He was also worried if it would have been weird to check up on you. Surely, you were friends? You considered him as a friend, right? He hoped so since he had considered you one. He thought maybe he was overthinking it but then he began to worry that you would blame him. He had to do some mental gymnastics to come up with a reason why you would be mad at him, but he was able to come up with something. He would understand if you were mad at him since he is, well, suspected to be the child of the prophecy. So obviously, none of this would have happened if he wasn’t born? Right? He had told Annabeth about it, and from the way she blankly stared at him, he knew that the reason wasn’t solid, but still, he was nervous.

He was surprised to see you walk out of the Apollo Cabin. After hearing that you were hiding away, he didn’t expect you to attend one of the most lively events tonight. From afar, you seemed upset, but you also glinted with determination as you walked with purpose. He was seated with Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia by the campfire, listening to Annabeth ramble about the architecture of the Palace of Versailles to Thalia and Grover. It was her newest hyper fixation, and Percy had been listening though he got a little lost at some point. He didn’t want to lose his chance to approach you, not sure when the next opportunity would be so he quickly finished up the s’more he was eating before getting up from the bench.

“Um, I’ll be back,” he says. The only person who had heard him was Grover, who nodded to acknowledge him while Annabeth didn’t miss a beat in her ranting.

He checked in the usual places you would hang out in, but you were nowhere to be found. He found himself walking along the gravel road in front of the forest. He slows down, turning toward the trees and he hums,

“Did she go in there by herself?” He mutters softly, becoming concerned. It was kind of an unspoken rule that campers shouldn’t venture out on their own.

He looks over when he hears chattering, the wood nymphs slowly making their way out of the forest. They seemed to be gossiping about something as they huddle in a circle right outside of the trees. Percy found it strange that they were away from their homes, especially at this time, and he noticed they all looked a little stunned.

“Hey,” he smiles as he walks over to them. He halts hesitantly, the girls becoming quiet as they turn to him. “Have you guys seen, y/n?”

They exchange looks with each other, Juniper shifting on her feet as she stands in front of him. “Yeah…” she trails off, facing the dark trees. “Just keep walking. You’ll hear her.”

Percy furrows his eyebrows, unsure what they meant by that, but he takes their advice anyway. It didn’t take him long to find out what they meant, hearing your yelling before he saw you illuminating in the dark. He had imagined that you would be upset, but he definitely did not expect you to be yelling at the sky, rapidly throwing blasts of energy at a boulder.

Seeing you like this was odd. It was so different from the calm and collected demeanor that you gave off. He had considered you as the quieter twin. Compared to your brother, you weren’t as out there. He hadn’t seen you have many interactions with Atticus, but he could tell that you took on the big sister role. You just seemed more mature.

“How could you- how could you offer something like that?! I’ve never seen you once an- the first message I get from you is to join his stupid army! You took them from us!” You ignore the burning in your throat and the trembling of your arms. You felt lightheaded, and you didn’t know if it was due to how hard you were yelling or the amount of energy you were burning out. “I HOPE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” You shout weakly, looking up at the sky, hoping that your mother was listening to you. You wanted her to know how you felt betrayed, angry, and heartbroken.

Despite your anger, you still held back on what you said. You were wary not to push too far, preferring to not meet your mother's wrath the first time she visited you. You wanted an explanation; you wanted to hear the orders and the promises she made from herself. But you doubted she would appear.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, your breath ragged, and you wail, blasting the last long beam you were able to muster at the boulder. You stumble from your own force, a sob leaving your lips, and your forearm wipes your tears.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing,” you strain in a whisper.

You gasp as you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze in your spot, your heart beating hard in your chest. You were confident that you had summoned your mother. You took a deep breath, ready to face her, but to your surprise, you were met with Percy.

Percy's body tenses the moment you snap your gaze to him, swallowing hard as your glowing eyes bore right into his. He was hoping that his speculations of you being mad at him were wrong. The burning smell from your beams filled the air, and he definitely did not want to be charred up like that boulder. To his relief, he watches your clouded expression soften. He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?” He asks, immediately cringing at himself afterward. Of course, she isn’t okay, why would you ask her that?

You sniffle, and you nod, “Yeah, I’m just doing my nightly prayers.” Though you tried to lighten up the mood, your voice was sad and hoarse.

Percy frowns, and he steps over a log in his way. He walks over to you as you plop down to sit on the grass with your legs crossed. Ambrose comes to your side, resting his head on your thigh, and you pet him softly.

“I heard what happened,” Percy’s tone is soft as he hesitantly invites himself to sit beside you. He wasn’t sure you wanted to be comforted right now, but you didn’t tell him to go away, so he took that as a good sign. He hums, looking down at his hands, “Travis reported it during the counselor meeting the day after,” he mentions. “Atticus told me you weren’t doing too well. I can’t do much, but if you want to talk about it, I’m listening.”

You didn’t want to dump everything on Percy, but the genuine concern in his tone made you feel comfortable enough to consider laying all your thoughts out on the table.

You haven't had the chance to discuss your feelings yet. There was a silent understanding between you, Atticus, and Lou Ellen that none of you were ready to bring it up and would rather go along your days pretending it didn’t happen. But as you continued to avoid it, it began to fester like an infected wound.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize for how long you were quiet. In your silence, Percy waited patiently, not wanting you to feel pressured. Every once in a while, he would look over, noticing the flickering of your aura slowing down until it’s absorbed into your body, leaving you both with the soft white light coming from Ambrose’s body. If you decided not to talk about it, he told himself he wouldn’t pry, but he would be worried about you for keeping everything in.

You didn’t know how much Travis had said at the counselors meeting. Your mind was rushing with thoughts, asking yourself where you should start while also deciding if you should be completely honest with him. It wasn’t until now that you were faced with all the conflicting feelings you’ve had in the past few days. They came at you all at once, and a sniffle cuts through your silence. You sigh shakily, resting your head on Percy’s shoulder.

Percy looks down at you, able to make out some of your features in the dark. Your eyelids were a little puffy from crying, and you look exhausted. He frowns as a small sob leaves your lips, shifting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He debated if he should say anything to you. He didn't find that this was a situation where an “it’s okay” was appropriate. Kronos was rising, war was on its way, and Luke was recruiting campers, 5 of those campers being your siblings. None of that was okay. He felt a pang in his chest, grasping on to the fact that you’d be fighting against them when it was time for battle.

“I’m sorry,” your voice quivers. You hated feeling as if you were losing control of your emotions. You didn’t want Percy seeing you like this, and you began to feel embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry,” he shakes his head, and he opens his mouth to say something else but is too stunned when you pull away abruptly. Your gaze is fixed in the opposite direction as you try to catch your breath, hiccuping and gasping softly for a bit. “Y/n?”

“I almost left, and I feel guilty because a part of me regrets not leaving,” you blurted out the confession that was eating you up the most. It was what you were afraid to admit out loud, especially to Atticus and Lou Ellen. You didn’t want to admit that you, the one who found the courage to voice your opinion to your brothers, the one that declared she was staying at the camp, had begun to regret her decision. As much as you wished to not regret it, the what-if questions that filled your mind were hard to avoid. Were you actually missing out on the opportunity to be taught by your mother? Was it true what James said? Was deciding to stay a death wish?

You refused to look at Percy. You were wondering if he thought he was talking to a potential traitor to the camp. You were wondering if he would think of you differently now that you have confessed to having the slightest thought of joining Kronos.

Percy was lost for words, his face flashed with surprise, and he was glad you weren’t looking at him. He didn’t want you to think that he was judging you because he wasn’t; he was just taken aback. The tension between you started to thicken the longer he stayed quiet. His eyes scan the ground, frantically searching for something to say.

“Why did you stay?” He asks hesitantly.

Your teeth chew on the inside of your lip, and you now regret saying anything. You didn’t know if the shift in the air around the two of you was in your head, but either way, it bothered you.

“Because…” you trail off. The list of reasons why you stayed was long, and you didn’t want to go through all of them. You were determined to keep this conversation short, afraid that if you keep dwelling on this situation for too long, you will find more reasons to be angry.

“Because I’m not going to die for a cause I don’t believe in,” you declare. “I understand their side. I understand why they decided to leave. Alabaster was always saying that he wished things were different for us here at camp. I mean, so do I. They also had the approval of our mother, and they were promised to be taken care of if Kr- the Titan Lord wins. I can’t blame them for not giving that up because even I was hesitant to give it up,” you confess.

You sniffle softly, peeling the skin around your fingers before continuing, “But… for the change they're looking for, I don’t think this is the way to do it. Like really? Allying with him? Yeah, the gods are big jerks, but I don’t understand how he would be any different of a leader.” You sigh, “I considered leaving just to be with them, but I couldn’t go through with it. I wouldn’t feel right. I tried to convince them to stay, but they were set on leaving.”

Percy was quiet for a moment, and you found the courage to look up at him. His vision is fixed on the forest ahead before he meets your gaze. “I don’t think you should blame yourself for regretting not going. I think if I were in your position, I would have thought about the same things. They mean a lot to you. They’re your family.”

You nod, relieved that he understood where you were coming from. “Atticus was my last straw. If he had decided to leave, I would have left despite everything.”

“Understandable. He’s your twin,” Percy shrugs. You sigh shakily, your chest feeling a little lighter after being able to voice your thoughts. You felt more satisfied with yourself now. Your challenged morals felt solidified, and you decided with confidence that your choice was right for you.

“I give you a lot of props, Y/n. You were in a tough situation, and it must have been hard to stand your ground, especially since most of them decided to leave.”

“Yeah…” you say softly, and you realize that maybe you should have been kinder to yourself for having that feeling of regret.

“I think it’s really awesome what you did. Doing something like that takes a lot of guts,” Percy says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks…” you say shyly.

A soft smile plays on his lips, and he can tell you were starting to feel better. He was glad that he could help because he understood what you were feeling. He didn’t exactly go through the same thing, but he knew how it felt to second guess your choices and how it was easy to spiral when you dwelled on it for too long.

“You’re really sweet, waterboy. Thanks a lot," you say playfully as you return the smile. Your heart flutters as Percy’s face brightens before sheepishly looking away from you for a second.

He didn’t get compliments like that often. Well, he has, from his mom, but he didn’t count that. It wasn’t the same as getting the compliment from a girl, a girl as pretty as you are.

“I-it was nothing,” he moves his hand in a dismissive wave, and you giggle. “Well… I don’t know if you were done with your ‘prayer,’ but I think you should go back to the party in the Apollo Cabin. I’ll come with you. It sounded like a lot of fun in there."

"Ugh, but they’re going to make me sing,” you slouch, and Percy laughs at the slight pout on your face.

“I’ll sing with you,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows, surprised at his offer. You’ve only seen him at karaoke a few times, and he always stayed on the sidelines.

“You can sing?” You ask, amused. Percy definitely didn’t seem like the musical type.

“Nope, I’m pretty much tone-deaf, but I’ll embarrass myself for you since you had a rough day," he nudges you softly before standing up. You look up at him as he pats down his pants, and you lean back on your hands.

“I’m gonna pick a ballad so you can embarrass yourself even more," you smirk at him, and he stops patting his clothes, squinting at you.

“Don’t make me take it all back,” he jokes. He reaches his hand out to you, and you grab it, letting him help you up from the ground.

“You know, I’d kill to hear you sing a Britney Spears song," you mention as you pat your own clothes down and begin to walk out of the forest, Ambrose acting as your guide by trotting ahead of you.

Percy is quiet for a moment, and you glance over, positive that he's starting to regret his offer to sing with you.

"Please don’t do that to me.”

You laugh at him; the thought of Percy singing a Britney Spears song was way too funny to you. Percy gave you a cautious look, not sure if you were serious or not. “Fine, fine! I shouldn’t take advantage of your kindness,” you admit as your laugh ceases. Percy nods, playfully agreeing with you. “You listen to My Chemical Romance?” You ask, and he scoffs,

“Of course, I listen to My Chemical Romance.”

“Let’s sing Teenagers then,” you suggest. “It’s a crowd favorite. Everyone sings along, so no one has to suffer through your singing. What do you think?” you tease, and you take in his bright smile as he nods his head,

“Sounds good to me.”

masterlist taglist: @nct127bee @xxyrr @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr

#my writing #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympian fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo x reader #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson imagine #percy x reader

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

Text

tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal.

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know?

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

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flightfoot · 3 years ago

Text

Friendship and Uncertainty

AO3 Thanks to @oblivionhold for betaing!

Marinette really didn't have a lot of great options in Prime Queen. She couldn't tell Nadja and her parents "Oh yeah, sorry, I double-booked myself as Ladybug, my bad! Guess my parents are gonna have to babysit instead!" And if she'd tried to make up an excuse about being busy, with how last-minute it was and how urgently Nadja needed childcare, I don't think her parents would've accepted it.

Her only viable alternative option would've been to cancel her interview with Nadja at the last-minute, citing some last-minute conflict with her civilian schedule. She could've transformed during a bathroom break, texted Chat, and told him as much, leaving him to interview with Nadja alone. I'd argue that this would've been the most responsible option, but not necessarily the best one. With how much the network was pressuring her, Nadja may have landed in hot water if she couldn't get one of her guests on, and Chat would've been disappointed as well.

The plan Marinette came up with in canon was her best shot at fulfilling all her responsibilities without anyone being mad or disappointed or hung out to dry. Manon got looked after by someone Marinette knew was a good babysitter, she got to go to the interview, and no one would have any clue things were remiss... at least, that was her plan. In canon, things got dicey for a bit with Alya calling into the show, but ultimately no one discovered Marinette had left the premises, and everyone was mostly happy.

But it was risky, and things could easily have gone wrong. Hence, this story.

It gives me a good reason to explore Alya feeling hurt and exploring her emotions while sticking closely to canon. There aren't a lot of fics that do that.

--------

“Where is she?”

Alya looked down at Manon. Nadja was worried about Marinette not being in the picture when she called, and she couldn’t blame her. Bringing over a friend to help babysit as well, or taking over babysitting momentarily while the hired babysitter was busy was one thing, but this was getting ridiculous.

Marinette had seemed weirdly anxious about talking to her parents. She’d chalked it up to Marinette being nervous about whatever she’d needed to tell them, but…

She let out a frustrated sigh. Marinette hadn’t even told her why she needed to talk to them so urgently. It almost felt like she was making up an excuse to ditch her with Manon.

“Marinette wouldn’t do that,” Alya murmured to herself. “She’d tell me if she needed me to cover for her, right?”

But the thought wouldn’t leave her brain.

Manon yawned.

Gears turned in Alya’s head. “Hey Manon, before you fall asleep, how about we go downstairs so you can use the bathroom?”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep!” Manon said, yawning again. But she stood up shakily and headed for the stairs, following Alya.

-----

As Alya waited for Manon to finish in the bathroom near the kitchen, she heard a soft humming coming from the kitchen. Seizing on the opportunity, she hurried over (while keeping near enough that she could still hear when Manon opened the bathroom door).

“Ah, Alya!” Tom greeted her. “Did you kids need some snacks?”

“No, but-” Oh what the hell, why not? “Actually, that sounds great.”

“Anything for my daughter! And her friends of course,” he said, cheerily grabbing a few of hers and Marinette’s favorite cookies.

“Speaking of Marinette, what’d she want to talk to you about?” she said, as casually as she could manage.

“She wanted to talk to me about something?” Tom asked, sounding perplexed.

“Maybe I just misheard her,” Alya said hastily. “I was playing with Manon and things got a little loud.”

Tom looked troubled. “Well, just let her know that if she needs to talk to me about anything, her papa is always willing to lend an ear.” She could almost see a lightbulb turn on above Tom’s head. “Oh! I’ve got a batch of Marinette’s favorite cookies in the oven right now! They should be ready in about twenty minutes. If you can send her down then, we can talk this out, see what’s troubling her! And if it was a mistake, well, I’ll never say no to watching her face when she bites into a strawberry macaron.”

Alya slapped on a smile. “Will do!”

The toilet flushed.

“That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Mr. Dupain!”

“Anytime!”

She walked to the bathroom on autopilot.

Marinette had lied.

------

“I’m so sorry Alya! I had no idea it would take so long to talk to my parents!”

Alya didn’t look at her. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked tonelessly.

“Uh, you know… family stuff,” Marinette sounded nervous.

Alya turned to her. “Marinette, I know you weren’t with your parents.”

“I- uh-”

“I went downstairs earlier and asked your dad what you two talked about, but he said he didn’t talk to you at all. Your dad wanted me to tell you that if you need to talk with him about anything, he’s willing to lend an ear. The batch of strawberry macarons he was making should be ready by now.” Her voice sounded dead, even to her own ears.

“Alya, I’m- I’m really sorry-”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not ready to talk with you about it right now,” she said evenly. “If I do, I might raise my voice, and I don’t want Manon to see us fighting.”

Marinette winced, glancing at the sleeping girl.

“Um… could we talk tomorrow…?” Marinette asked, sounding small.

Alya nodded stiffly. Not like she could avoid it, tomorrow was a school day.

As she headed down the ladder, she paused and looked up, “Oh, and Marinette?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t let anyone know you left. I’m still not happy you ditched me, but I didn’t rat you out.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started to stammer something. Alya shut the hatch.

Alya squeezed her eyes tight, letting out a small sob.

At that last moment, she’d been tempted to stay. To hear Marinette out. To see whether maybe, maybe, she had a good explanation. Some sort of excuse.

But she couldn’t.

If she stayed, with Marinette looking at her like that, clearly hurting… she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her. Not when she felt worse than Alya herself did.

Alya wasn’t ready to let go of her anger and hurt yet. Not so soon.

Pausing only to text Nora that she was heading home, she hurried out the door.

------

“Little sis?”

Alya quickly wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself before Nora saw her.

It didn’t work.

“What happened? Who hurt you?” Nora asked, grabbing her shoulders.

“No one!”

Even to her own ears, it sounded false.

Nora frowned. “Really? Your eyes are red, and I can see the tear streaks on your cheeks. You really expect me to believe that?”

She looked away.

“Hey, look, little sis-” Nora said softly.

“Don’t call me that.” She couldn’t muster up the energy to put any heat behind her words.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Promise not to go after her?”

Nora blinked. “Her? ...wait, you were just at Baguette’s place- did something happen with Marinette?”

“Promise me,” she insisted.

Nora grimaced, before sighing. “Fiiiiine. Can I at least yell at her?”

“No. I want to handle this myself.”

“If you’re sure, little sis.”

Alya made a face, but explained what’d happened. How Marinette had called her over, ditched her with an excuse about her parents, how she’d learned Marinette was lying, everything.

“-and I just. I don’t understand why,” she finished. “I help her out all the time! Heck, I’ve even helped babysit Manon before! Why’d she lie to me?” She looked down at her lap, her fists tightening as she squeezed her pants legs, needing to get energy out. “I just- I feel used.”

Nora pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned into the pressure, listening to her sister’s heartbeat.

“Remember back in Martinique, with Maya?” Alya murmured.

“The neighbor girl?”

Alya nodded. “We played together a lot when I was a little. But sometimes… sometimes she’d get demanding, saying that if I didn’t do what she wanted - play some game she wanted, pick a role she wanted me to, whatever - she’d say that if I didn’t do it, she wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. There weren’t a lot of other kids my age in the area, so I agreed.” She gave a small smile. “Until one time she went too far. I stormed home in tears, scared that she wouldn’t play with me anymore, but not able to take it anymore.” Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, she continued. “You know what Mom did when she heard? When I told her how afraid I was that Maya wouldn’t want to play with me anymore? She told me to just wait. Less than an hour later Maya was knocking at the door, asking if I would come out to play. I stopped being afraid of her threat after that, and she stopped using it. I could say no.”

“I’m guessing this feels similar?” Nora said.

Alya nodded. “But it’s also weird! With Maya I understood what she was after. With Marinette, I don’t. Did she just really not want to babysit? Where’d she even go? And why-” Alya hesitated. “Why did she risk this? What was so important? Marinette, she- she doesn’t always think through other people’s feelings, but she DOES care about people! She doesn’t like hurting others! So why-”

Nora shook her head. “It’s no use speculating, you’ll just get your head turning ‘round and ‘round in circles ‘til you don’t know up from down. Just ask her tomorrow.”

Biting her lip, Alya sighed. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight after all this.”

Nora smiled, pulling out a DVD from… okay she really wanted to know when Nora had hollowed out a copy of the Lord of the Rings trilogy collection, because on the one hand that was SUPER cool, and on the other hand it physically hurt her to see a book damaged like that.

“I was saving this for your birthday,” Nora said, oblivious to Alya’s crisis, “But I think you need it now.”

She looked at the movie, letting out an inhumanly high-pitched squeal. “Majestia’s Early Days - Collector’s Edition?! How’d you even get this? I camped out on the website all day trying to snag a copy! They sold out in seconds,” she scowled, “Damn scalpers.”

Nora laughed. “Having fans can really come in handy. After one of my matches, I mentioned how bummed out my little sis was about not being able to get her hands on a copy. The next day one of my regular fans handed this to me, said he hoped you’d enjoy it.”

“If you see him again, tell him that he’s a wonderful person with excellent taste in boxers!��

Nora laughed, grinning from ear-to-ear. Alya bet her own grin dwarfed even Nora’s.

“Let’s watch Majestia kick some ass.”

-----

“Alya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Nino lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring down at the floor for the past minute, looking like your dogs just got kidnapped by subterranean monsters and you’re trying to figure out how to get them back and why they’d want them in the first place.”

She stifled a laugh. “You come up with that for one of your movie scripts?”

He adjusted his cap, grinning proudly. “No, but now that you mention it…”

“Do you even know anyone with a dog?”

“Maybe a shelter would help out? They’re always looking for more exposure. We could put a note during the credits that the pups are available for adoption!”

Hm… she could advertise their film on her blog too, maybe ask whether any of her readers worked at a local dog shelter…

“We could talk to Marinette, see whether she’d be up for making a monster costume! Or if she’s too busy, Halloween’s coming up and- Alya?”

She blinked, only just now noticing how tightly she’d been squeezing her shirt in her hands. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Nino frowned. “No, you’re not.”

She looked away.

Nino slid into the seat next to her. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clearly hurting you. If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. If you just want to go back to talking about something unrelated to it, something fun, to keep your mind off it, I’m happy to oblige. But I’m always here to lend an ear if you need it.”

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Marinette called me over last night, wanted me to watch the Ladybug and Chat Noir interview with her. She also happened to be babysitting Manon, and thought it’d be more fun if we were all there together. Everything was fine at first,” she said, fidgeting. “I played around with Manon for a bit, Marinette got some pillows to lay on, and we got set up to watch the interview. Then Marinette said she needed to talk to her parents and that she might be gone for a while.”

She let out a humorless chuckle. “I waited for a while, but… no Marinette. Finally, I went downstairs and checked with her dad. He didn’t know anything about it. As far as he knew, she’d been upstairs in her room with me the entire time. Marinette came back a little while later, pretending that her talk with her parents had gone super long and I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I left. I said I’d talk with her about it today, but…”

“But you don’t feel ready now either?” Nino guessed.

She nodded. “I just keep on turning it around and around in my head. It doesn’t make sense. Sure, Marinette makes up excuses and disappears sometimes, but…” Something niggled in the back of her brain. “Hey Nino,” she asked carefully, trying to catch the strand of thought. “Has Marinette always been like this? Running off at a moment’s notice with fake-sounding reasons?”

Nino scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We’ve been in classes before, but we weren’t exactly close. I don’t think so? I think I would’ve noticed that. Not like we had akuma attacks distracting us last year.”

“Akuma attacks...” she murmured to herself.

There it was again. That niggling sensation, but even stronger this time.

*Slam*

Marinette threw the classroom door open, pinwheeling her arms as she struggled to regain her balance.

“AAAAAAH-”

At the last second as she fell backwards, Adrien seemed to almost teleport through the door, catching her.

Nino smiled. “I swear Adrien has a ‘Marinette falling’ sense. He always arrives just in time to catch her.”

Alya snorted. “Now if only he had a ‘Marinette feeling’ sense.”

Frowning, Alya tried to grasp onto the threads of thought from before, but they’d scampered with the distraction.

“...Can I sit here?” a soft voice asked.

Alya jumped a little, then scolded herself. She’d just seen Marinette arrive, she shouldn’t be able to startle her less than a minute later.

Nino got up slowly, giving Marinette a hard look, but moving to his regular seat without comment.

Marinette didn’t move.

Oh. Marinette was waiting for her permission, not just for Nino to leave.

“Sure. I mean, you sat here first,” Alya said. “I’m not the Queen of Seats.”

Marinette snorted at the reference, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards.

Alya narrowed her eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but from this close, she could see the bags under eyes, along with a slight puffiness.

Guilt settled in her stomach. She was pretty sure she knew why Marinette wouldn’t have gotten enough sleep, why she would’ve been crying.

“But she broke my trust!” part of her screamed. “She lied to me, used me!”

She still didn’t like seeing her friend hurt.

“So?” She asked as Marinette slid into her seat.

“So what?” Marinette asked nervously.

Alya narrowed her eyes.

Marinette bit her lip. “I- I’m not sure what to say. I- I lied to you. You’re right. I called you over because I’d accidentally double-booked myself, but I couldn’t just TELL Nadja that and I couldn’t cancel on no notice, so I just… came up with what I thought was the best solution. Manon would get taken care of, Nadja, Mom, and Dad wouldn’t know anything unusual had happened, and I’d be back before you noticed anything was wrong. Everyone would be happy! At least, that’s what I planned…” she petered off, looking away.

She could get what Marinette was thinking now, when she called her over. Sometimes you couldn’t do the things you wanted without disappointing someone, without someone being upset with you. But if you lined things up just right, you might not need to upset anyone - so long as they never found out what you’d done.

It still stung that Alya had been the tool she used to solve her problem, but at least she understood Marinette’s thought process.

“What was so important?” she asked. “What was so vital that you had to sneak out, even if it meant lying to your friends and family?”

Marinette flinched. “I- I have to,” she whispered. “I don’t have a choice.”

Alarm bells rang in Alya’s head. “What do you mean?” she said urgently. “Is someone threatening you? Marinette, are you in danger?”

“No!” She thought for a moment. “Yes? Kind of? Not- not the way you’re thinking of!” she added hastily.

She didn’t know what she was thinking. Drugs? Gangs? A cult that’d ensnared Marinette in its clutches?

“Can I have your attention please?” Ms. Bustier said.

Alya turned to the front of the class, head still spinning. She still wasn’t totally sure how she felt about what Marinette had done, but she had bigger worries.

Something was wrong with Marinette.

-----

That girl could be slippery when she wanted to be.

She managed to avoid talking to Alya for the rest of Bustier’s class, not responding to any note-passing and hurrying out of the classroom the second the bell rang. With Marinette going home for lunch she had little opportunity to talk to her then, and as for their next period… Alya may be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. No talking in Ms. Mendeleiv’s class.

With a sigh, she watched Marinette run out of Francois-Dupont, somehow managing to take the stairs two at a time without falling. Clearly whatever it was, Marinette didn’t want to talk about it.

But if it was hurting her…

She shook her head. She’d been thinking about this all day. It was time to get her mind off it, do something else.

Nodding, she turned towards the park. Maybe some time climbing trees would help take her mind off things. And if it didn’t, it’d at least give her practice catching her siblings when they inevitably got themselves stuck in some high-up area. She could swear they had teleportation skills that they’d been hiding their whole lives just to prank the rest of the family with.

Chuckling to herself, she almost missed the flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

She whipped around. “Ladybug?!”

The superhero froze, looking caught out. “Alya!” she said, sounding strangled. “What’re you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Just enjoying the weather,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Would you be up for another interview?”

Ladybug started shaking her head before she even finished the sentence. “No, NOPE, nada, absolutely not!” she said, making an “X” with her arms for emphasis. “Not after yesterday. Not happening.”

She stashed her phone. “You just want to talk off the record then?”

The superheroine’s eyes widened a fraction. She nodded. “There’s… there’s something I could use your advice on.”

Something fluttered in Alya’s chest. Her idol needed her help? “I’ll do what I can,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

After going to a secluded part of the park, Ladybug turned to her. “You know a lot about superheroes right? About how we have to maintain a double life?”

Alya nodded. “It’s a comic book staple. Often causes a lot of trouble for the hero, but not as much as having their identity leaked to the world.”

“Yeah, I know what that trouble’s like,” Ladybug muttered to herself. Speaking more loudly, she looked at Alya. “I- I messed up. Badly. I forgot that I’d-” She paused. “Sorry, I need to be careful about this. I don’t want to expose myself.”

Alya nodded.

After a minute, Ladybug tried again. “I needed to do something as Ladybug, but as a civilian, I’d already agreed to another responsibility at the same time,” she said carefully. “I couldn’t tell anyone that I needed to do something Ladybug-related without spilling my secret identity, but I also couldn’t get out of my civilian responsibility so I- I tricked someone into doing it instead. And they found out and they’re mad at me and I can’t BLAME them but I can’t tell them everything and I just don’t know what to do!” She looked at Alya pleadingly.

Her stomach twisted. “Seems to be a lot of deception going on lately,” she muttered, surprising even herself with how bitter she sounded. She blinked as Ladybug winced.

Stop projecting your feelings about the sleepover onto Ladybug’s situation, they’re not the same! She scolded herself.

What would she do in Ladybug’s shoes? She couldn’t tell anyone her identity. She’d still want to be friends with this person. Just heaping on lies would make it worse when those came to light, alienating the friend (or former friend) even further.

“Have you explained as much as you could why you did it without giving away your secret identity?” Alya asked slowly. “Just… let them know that you do care about them, that you didn’t lie to them lightly, that you care about your feelings and you didn’t have a lot of options.” Ah, screw it. Maybe it was just because it’d been recent and she was still hurting and worried, but perhaps hearing it would help Ladybug with her own friend problems. “One of my friends recently tricked me into covering for her,” she said. “I’m still not sure why.”

“O-oh, really?” Ladybug said… nervously? Probably because it reminded her of her own friend.

“She vaguely explained to me why,” she continued. “What she was thinking and feeling at the time. She had another commitment too, but she didn’t tell me what it was.” She let out a deep sigh. “At least she didn’t lie about it - I think. I’d rather she not tell me, than lie about it.” A pebble sat near her shoe. Absentmindedly, she kicked it. “With how distraught she was when she explained it... I think she was sincere. That she doesn’t view me as a tool. That she was just in a tough spot,” she said. “That helps a lot.”

“I- I did explain,” Ladybug said, hope lifting her voice. “I think she believed me.”

Alya nodded. “In that case… I don’t think there’s much more you can do. Give her space, and try to avoid doing it again if you can.” She bit her lip. “Which might not be totally under your control considering Hawkbutt.”

Ladybug stifled a giggle.

She gave a small smile, snorting at her own joke. “Anyway, could I ask you a favor? So long as you don’t have any other commitments already, I don’t want to land you in hot water with anyone else,” she added hastily.

“Nothing to do with the Ladyblog, right?” Ladybug asked suspiciously.

As much as she’d like that… “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Actually, it has to do with a friend of mine. You know Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Uh- NOPE never heard that name in my life! Who’s Marinette?” Ladybug said hastily, gesticulating wildly.

Huh. Weird. She could’ve sworn that Marinette had mentioned meeting Ladybug before, but come to think of it, she couldn’t remember a single instance of Marinette and Ladybug being in the same place at the same time-

Never mind, there was that time with Alix’s race. But if that was the only time, no wonder Ladybug didn’t remember her. She wasn’t even sure that anyone had said Marinette’s name while Ladybug was within earshot.

Aaaaaand there was that niggling sensation again. She wished it’d either divulge what it was getting at or leave her alone.

She whipped out her phone, pulling up a picture she and Marinette had taken together a couple months ago. “Marinette’s my best friend,” she said, surprising herself with how sure she sounded. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now, but… well, I’m still worried about her. She was the one who lied to me yesterday, and when I confronted her about it, she said something about not having a choice. It sounds like she’s in danger but she won’t tell me from what, and I’m not sure what could be the problem and… I’m just worried.” Looking up from her phone, she locked eyes with the superhero. “Could you check up on her, please? Maybe she’d talk to you even if she wouldn’t talk to me. And- and even if she doesn’t, I’d feel better if a superhero was looking out for her.”

“You really care about her, huh?,” Ladybug said, giving her a soft smile. “Even though you’re fighting.”

She nodded. “I’m not happy with her, and there are some things we still need to work out, but- yeah. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“You’re a good friend, Alya. I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll look after her as best I can.”

“Buginette?” a boy’s voice called. A black figure landed next to Ladybug, crouched in the classic superhero landing pose, one knee bent, one hand punching the ground.

Oooh, new Ladyblog idea! Top ten Chat Noir poses! Seriously, that cat could be a model with the way he effortlessly mugged for the camera.

Ladybug groaned. “Did I forget the time already?”

“It’s fine,” Chat said, resting his stick on his shoulders. “Waiting made seeing you all the sweeter.”

The spotted heroine groaned again, for a different reason this time. Alya saw the corners of her lips quirk upwards ever-so-slightly, belying her annoyance. “Come on, you alley cat. Race you to the Tower!”

“Oh, you’re on!”

Alya watched them run off. Well, pole vault and swing off, but you know. Semantics.

Turning around, she headed back home.

She had an article to write.

-----

Alya hummed as she walked into class, glancing at her phone. The Chat article had been a major hit, garnering several dozen comments within a few hours of posting, including from a user called “TheCatsMeow” who seemed weirdly invested in convincing everyone that Chat definitely had no experience modeling and his on-point posing was entirely due to natural talent and charisma. People picked the weirdest hills to die on. She’d been joking when she proposed that he was secretly a supermodel, but after having defended the possibility in a ten-commment-long exchange, she was starting to seriously consider it. Hm, maybe Adrien would have an idea of a possible identity lead…

“Oooof!”

“Augh!”

Note to self: Don’t walk while looking at your phone. Sure she never listened when Mom told her that, but maybe this time she’d have the self-control to hold off! Optimism!

“Sorry,” she said instinctively. And blinked. “Marinette? You’re EARLY?!”

She should text her mom to buy a lottery ticket.

“Yeah,” Marinette said, chuckling nervously. She seemed to be in much better shape this time. A little down, but it looked like she’d gotten some decent sleep. “I- I just thought- if you wanted to talk- never mind. You need space.”

Suspicions percolated in her mind. “I should go to the restroom before class starts. How about you?”

Marinette’s head whipped up. “Yeah, sure, better to be safe than sorry. You know me, always needing to race to the toilet!” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Every other akuma attack it seems like,” Alya said, walking down the hallway with her friend. “I swear, something about it being an inconvenient time makes you need to go even more.”

“Yep, that’s totally the reason!” Marinette agreed.

They walked for a moment in silence while she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know about my advice to Ladybug, don’t you?” she said at last.

“Ack-!” Marinette tripped on air, but managed to save herself at the last second. “Uh, no, that’s ridiculous, how could I know about that? It’s not like I was there or anything.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And it’s pure coincidence that you concluded I needed space the day after I gave that advice to Ladybug to help with her own friend problem?”

“Uuuuuh…” Marinette looked off to the side, before releasing a long sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Ladybug talked to me last night, and well… your conversation came up. I figured our problems were similar enough, and you were the one giving the advice, so… maybe if I followed it, we could make up?”

Marinette wanted to go back to normal, to laugh and joke and just.. enjoy each other’s company again. And Alya… she wanted that too.

She knew Marinette hadn’t meant to hurt her. And she understood why Marinette had done what she’d done.

Well, except for what prompted Marinette to need to lie in the first place. She just had a gut feeling it was a cult, some sort of secret society. She was sure Miraculous had been around for awhile, that several historical figures had used them, and she could just bet that there was some sort of secret group watching over them from the shadows. She just needed a thread to follow, something that could lead her back to the guardians-

NOT THE TIME, BRAIN.

Abruptly, she stopped. “I- I want that too,” she said softly. “I don’t like fighting. I want my friend back.” She gave Marinette a hard look. “If Ladybug told you my advice, then you already know what I’m about to say. I don’t like being lied to - not like that. Not as part of a manipulation. You had your reasons, I get that, but I don’t think I could take that a second time. Unless someone’s in danger if you don’t, please, don’t lie to me. If you can’t tell me something or why you’re asking me to do a thing, just tell me that. I can’t promise to like it, but it’s better than being tricked.”

Marinette bit her lip and nodded. “I think- yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she said, gaining confidence.

Alya smiled. “In that case…” she took off. “Race you to the bathrooms!”

“Hey, no running in the halls!” Marinette said, but her laughter undercut her words. As did her immediately overtaking Alya.

Girl could move fast when she wanted to.

------

(Several months later)

“And I… I’m Ladybug”

“This makes everything make so much more sense.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #alya cesaire #marinette dupain cheng #prime queen

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