#v fan fiction

[insfiringyou]

BTS - Pottery Class (Max x Cassandra) & (V x Da-eun)

Contains: smut, fluff, first meetings.

Set a month following Christmas Morning, Cassandra and Max go on a date. 

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Rated content below the cut

Max smiled as he tucked in the edges of the small, blue shirt; its miniature size almost comical on the child’s small frame. Gabriel was surprisingly still for him, though his hips wriggled when he got to the back, rocking from side to side in his likewise scaled-down boots which Cassandra had tied carefully for him earlier, making sure to double-knot. Looking up, he could only see the back of her head; her long, dark waves cascading down the back of her dress where the ends skimmed the edge of her waistband; the navy garment cinched in with a tie belt. She was waiting at the window, fingering the edges of the plain, dark curtains expectantly and it wasn’t until Max drew up to his full height and touched her shoulder gently she turned around with a little, startled jolt. Her eyes moved from him to her child, almost apprehensively. 

“Is he ready?” She asked. 

Max nodded. “Looking smart. Is his bag packed?”

She nodded, gesturing towards the hallway. “All ready.” Looking back, she drew away from the sill quickly. “I think that’s his car.” 

Automatically, Max bent down to address the child, knowing full-well the shirt would likely be covered in food by the end of the day, but appreciating the amusingly formal attire Cassandra had picked out for him. Despite his age, it already suited him and he undeniably looked stylish, or as stylish as it was possible for a three year old to look. “Are you ready to go?” He asked with a smile, an exaggerated excitement evident in his tone. 

The child grinned, clutching his hands together at his chest. “Yes!”

His expression was contagious and Max smoothed his dark hair lightly, teasing a curl. “Good boy. You’ll be good for your dad won’t you?”

His arms outstretched, holding them out to the taller gentleman. “Daddy!”

Max’s expression softened as Cassandra moved between them, reaching for his hand and steering her son towards the hallway. 

“Daddy’s waiting outside for you.” She corrected, giving Max a knowing look as he held back, allowing her to answer the door. He busied himself in the living room as he heard the twist and click of the lock, wanting to give them some privacy. There was a clutter of toys on the floor and he scooped them up one by one as Cassandra’s voice drifted through the gap in the door. 

“He’s got everything he needs.”

“How’s he been?” A familiar voice said, stifled a little by the sound of the street outside as a car drove past. 

 “...up all night. You’ll probably get some quiet time.” She sounded tired and Max wondered whether that had been the primary cause for her anxious demeanour this morning. After making them breakfast she had been pacing a little, running her hands through her long locks as she watched the clock. Then again, they hadn’t been on a date in god knows how long, if ever. He wasn’t sure whether those brief coffee breaks had counted as dates, while Cassandra watched Gabriel in the play area of the cafe with one eye. Nor those classes he ran after hours, where they both had time to talk, while the baby, only a year old at the time, had sat asleep in his car seat in the corner; tucked in tightly the way he liked which seemed to prevent him from waking up and crying. Being alone together was a luxury they had only been granted recently, while his father took him out for the day, and often it involved them cleaning the house before crashing on the sofa together until it was time to pick him up. Overnight stays had been a lifesaver, allowing Cassandra the time to sleep off her exhaustion from the day before and giving them a chance to be intimate. She had been cautious at first, worrying the child would ask for her and not wanting to leave him for so long, but she had been getting better at that. Taehyung was reassuring and Gabriel always returned with a smile on his face. Perhaps she was fretting needlessly. 

“Has he eaten?” Max heard the man say, but her reply was cut off by another passing car.

“...some snacks.” She paused. “Just wait until he’s hungry.”

He could almost picture the man’s sombre nod, he always seemed so serious. “I got a new car seat.”

“Good, he was outgrowing the old one.” 

Max detected the small smile in her voice before she hesitated, growing quiet. 

“Is that her?”

He didn’t hear the response but his ears pricked up interestedly, suspecting he knew who she was talking about. He was a little surprised; the other man only spoke of her briefly during conversations and she had never, to his knowledge, accompanied him on his visits. 

“Is she shy?” Cassandra asked, not unkindly. 

“...better if she waited.” Taehyung said, the first half of the sentence obscured and lost as the pair moved away from the doorway and into the street. 

“I don’t bite.” Cassandra said softly, her voice clearer; the lilting rises and falls of her accent more familiar to him. “She can come and say hello.”

The door was left open but he could no longer hear the exchange as they seemingly walked away, towards the car. Max considered moving to the window to catch a glimpse of the young woman in question; suddenly curious as to what she looked like, but decided against it, distracted instead by the throw on the sofa which had come loose from its tucked-in confines and the scatter of pillows which had fallen to the floor. When he straightened up, satisfied the room looked presentable, Cassandra’s voice returned as she handed the other man the small rucksack she had packed earlier. 

“Have fun…” She said gently, the tone of her voice unreadable among the background noise, followed by the sound of the door closing. He turned to the hallway door as she walked into the room, his eyes drawn to the fabric of her dress which wrapped around her body elegantly. The belt, tightly drawn in accentuated her hips and bust; the small glimmer of cleavage attractive and a little sexy. It was different to what she usually wore around the house; though her plain blue jeans always seemed sexy to him too, in an understated way. He sometimes wondered how she managed to pull them off so effortlessly. She smiled appreciatively, noticing he had tidied up, and he felt a shift in her mood. Perhaps having Gabriel dressed and out of the house had put her more at ease. 

“Do you want to get changed?” He asked cheerfully, feeling his own emotions lifting along with hers. 

She looked down, brushing the edge of the fabric with her long, spindly fingers. “Should I dress up?” Her eyebrows knitted together and he shook his head softly. 

“I was thinking you might want to wear something you don’t mind getting messy.” He clarified.

Her smile widened. “I don’t tend to get messy.”

Max laughed, walking over and talking her hand in his. “But I’m not so good.” He admitted. “You can wear something of mine.”

She hesitated, fingers loosely wrapped around his, but eventually she nodded. “If you insist.”

***

She had taken him up on the offer and paired one of his plain, band tees with her dark skinny jeans; hair tied back in a long ponytail to keep it out of the way. Max had been grateful, when his first attempt on the wheel had caused somewhat of a mess to the point he drew away from the spinning device and turned his attention instead to creating something a little more modest. Cassandra peered at the table in front of them with an amused smile.“What’s that supposed to be?”

He looked up, moving his palms away from the clay so she could see. “A turtle.” He blinked seriously. “Can’t you tell?”

She laughed at his expression as it changed, dropping the act. “Maybe if I squint.”

His smile widened and he leaned over to peck her cool cheek, lips tingling at the contact. “You’re too cruel…”

She turned her attention back to the wheel which she started again with a press on the pedal, smoothing the edges of the pot artfully and with an ease he admired. “It’s head looks kind of phallic.” She added mischievously, casting a playful glance in his direction.

He sighed dramatically, eyeing the misshapen lump between his hands with mock disappointment. “Maybe you’re right.”

Her eyebrow crooked. “An ex lover perhaps?”

He grinned easily. “Never this crooked.” He admitted, turning his attention to her as he watched her hands move, almost sensually, along the vase she was creating. It was beautiful to see, how it formed so easily beneath her palms, like she had been doing it all her life. “Have you seen one like this?” He cheerfully asked, a little mockingly. 

She shook her head, turning to face him dead on. “Not for a while.”

His head snapped back in laughter, causing a few glances from the opposite side of the room where a few students worked at their own wheels, thankfully at a distance where he doubted they could overhear their conversation. He vaguely wondered if they could speak English. He noticed that despite their formal overgarments, their skill paled in comparison to hers and he voiced his approval happily. “Yours is coming out beautifully.” The corners of her lips upturned in a thankful smile and he pressed on. “I’ll get you some flowers.”

“Thank you.” She murmured gently. “It’ll be spring soon. Tulips would be nice.”

The sound of her voice made his stomach warm pleasantly and he edged his seat a little closer to her. “You’re good with the wheel.”

She paused her movement, bringing the wheel to a stop as she offered him a place. “Why don’t you have a go?”

He paused, a timid smile on his lips. “You saw my attempt earlier...”

Reaching down, she moved the stool aside, giving him room. “I’ll show you…” She protested lightly. “Sit here.”

Hesitantly, he moved the small stool in front of her and sat down, realising he was blocking her view and moving aside a little to give her space beside him. Her hands moved to his, touching them gently as she moved them towards the tall vase, its sloping curves almost echoing her own, and encouraged him to press down with a little more force than he expected. Feeling more secure, he activated the pedal which allowed the smooth clay to spin between his palms, allowing her to guide his hands where needed. They fell silent for a moment; the low chatter from across the room fading into the background, though he noticed a few quick glances in their direction. Perhaps his appearance was novel to them; an unusually tall, pale-haired man with the first, stubbly shadow of a beard being led by a woman who managed to make a pair of jeans look like the epitome of fashion. 

“Isn’t this romantic?” She commented, a little dreamily, breaking his trail of thought.

He looked up, a shy smile on his lips. “Maybe if we were alone.”

“They aren’t paying attention.” She dismissed, moving his hands down smoothly; the clay running slipperily between their connected fingers.

“I’ve got it.” He reassured, encouraging her to move away as he took hold of the vase and continued to shape it on his own. She moved back, and he thought he sensed a twinge of disappointment in her expression. Either way, it quickly disappeared as she adjusted the stool next to the table and picked up the diformed turtle distractedly. 

“I used to have my own wheel…” She said quietly, thinking. “I don’t know what happened to it.”

He slowed down his movement, bringing the machinery to a stop before looking at her. “Maybe you could get another.”

She shrugged, looking disinterestedly at the object in her hand. “I was attached to my old one…they are quite expensive.”

“Did you make many things?” He asked. 

She was quiet for a moment, before shaking her head to herself. “I must have misplaced them.” 

The sound of footsteps made them both turn towards the female instructor who walked past their table, signalling she was ready to collect the vase. 

“When will they be ready?” Cassandra asked politely in Korean. 

“You can collect next week.” The older woman replied, allowing Max to give her space as she worked on the wheel. 

“Why does it take so long?” Max asked Cassandra, sticking with English.

“They have to allow it to dry.” She explained in Korean, almost automatically. 

“If you want to glaze it you can attend our class next week.” The lady offered. 

Cassandra turned to Max hopefully. “That would be nice.” She gestured towards the table, picking up a small ball of the dough-like substance and kneading it against the table with her fingers. “We still have a little left. I might make something quickly.” 

Sensing the removal of the vase would take more time than anticipated, Max got up from the chair, allowing the instructor to sit down as she worked on trimming the edges around the bottom with a little wooden tool while he went to wash his hands in the large basin at the other side of the room. Looking down, he observed he had been right to dress down that day; his old jeans were covered in clay and he hoped he had remembered to pack some black garbage bags in the trunk of his car to line the seats when they returned home. Cassandra was chatting away to the instructor as she shaped the ball of clay with her hands, crafting it into a round dish and using a flat-edged tool to create a pattern around the rim. He took his time at the sink, making sure he cleaned his fingernails with the brush at the back before finally heading back towards Cassandra who looked at him with a pleased smile.

“What is it?” He asked. 

She shrugged. “Just for trinkets. I like the edges.”

He peered at the pot amusedly. “An ashtray.” He commented, making her laugh. 

“I haven’t seen those for a while.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe you could start a business.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, quickly finishing the last of the waved grooves in the brim “How very 90s…”

He took a spare seat beside her. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes.” She looked at him happily. “Are you?”

He smirked. “I think you are better than me.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She dismissed gently and he could see she meant it. His chest once again seemed warm beneath the surface of his skin as he realised how happy she seemed to be in the studio. He remembered seeing that look when they first met; how he had noticed it among his other students; her standing out like a bright star as she painted with the baby on her lap. “It’s nice being out together.” She continued. “Maybe you could start pottery classes at your art centre. That way we could come more often.” Cassandra asked hopefully. 

“Mmm.” He murmured, appreciating her suggestion but already thinking of the mess he would have to clean up once the clay ended up in the more unskilled hands of his usual patrons. Looking back, he could see she had already turned her attention back to the sleek trinket tray which she was studying with interest. 

“I think I’ll take this one home.” She murmured, getting slowly to her feet. 

He picked up his own design, which seemed lumpy and juvenile in comparison. “Do you think Gabriel will like this?”

“The penis turtle?” She quipped dryly. 

He smiled good naturedly. “Maybe he could paint it.”

Cassandra nodded. “That’s very sweet of you.”

***

Max had been waiting for her to finish her shower while he got changed into the clothes he had neatly folded in the bottom of her wardrobe. While he had not yet leased his apartment on the other side of town, he found himself staying with her more often than not, and the tall, flatpack piece of furniture was large enough to store both of their clothes along with some of Gabriel’s which no longer fit. Leaning back against the headboard, he checked his watch and was surprised to find it was only four in the afternoon. He had been up early to run the breakfast club at his centre, before returning home once the schools kicked in, and he felt drowsy from the long day. He closed his eyes against the bright light drifting through the window, napping lightly while he waited for Cassandra who he thought was taking longer than usual to clean herself up. Then again, she had been a little more enthusiastic with the clay than he was. 

The sound of the bedroom door opening caught his attention and he looked up from the pillow, first noticing her shapely silhouette before his eyes focussed and he realised she was clothed in lingerie; an ivory bralette and suspender belt hugged her curves, while her legs were stockinged in sheer material; the garter a jewel-toned green which complimented the silk robe she wore loosely around her shoulders. The attire was old fashioned, but undeniably sexy; he had seen nothing like it, but she pulled it off as she had done the pottery; with an ease and comfort only she could. He was unable to help his grin as she walked towards the bed, her long, wavy hair framing her face and body as she came to a halt. 

“Wow!” He exclaimed, resting his weight on his elbows as he sat up. 

Her fingers touched the edge of the robe, easing it away from her breasts. “Do you like it?”

“I can’t wait to take it off.” He let out a long breath, already feeling himself stir as she paused at the foot of the bed, a smile tugging on her lips. 

“I thought you might like to see me in it longer.” She shrugged.

 Max laughed softly, adjusting his position to sit comfortably against the headboard. “Your body is too beautiful.” He explained, holding out his arms when she finally crawled on the duvet, welcoming her body in an embrace. She straddled his hips and he kissed her, opening his lips against hers as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. 

“I’ve had a nice day.” She mused, pulling away to look at him. He captured her cheek in his palm, nodding.

“Me too.” He whispered, one hand moving to cup her covered breast tenderly. “I think it could get better…” 

She smiled, leaning into his touch as he squeezed down; her nipple hard beneath the silky material as they kissed once more. He felt her tongue touch his lip and he opened his mouth invitingly, brushing it with his own as she rocked gently in his lap, encouraging him to swell in the tight confines of his jeans. He let out a groan and moved his other hand to her bra, massaging both breasts with his long fingers as he pushed them together before reaching around, beneath the robe, to unfasten the clasp. The material dropped between her arms and he felt beneath to touch her skin, brushing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs as she gasped into his mouth. Almost desperately, he eased the thin material from her shoulders and removed it along with her bra, dropping them both to the floor. The coolness of the room hit her skin and she pulled away; light goose pimples visible on her bare arms as she stopped her movement against him.

“I don’t think…” She started, speaking almost in a whisper. “I can’t remember taking my pill.” 

There was a sense of urgency to her voice that encouraged him to move away from her breasts, instead placing his hands firmly against her waist. He thought for a moment, a frown burrowing across his features, before he nodded. “You did.”

She hesitated, biting her lip anxiously and shook her head. “I don’t remember…” She admitted, almost defeatedly. “I was packing.” She explained. 

He thought back to this morning, trying to replay the scene as he got home from work and watched her get dressed. “I’m sure you did.” His forehead wrinkled, though he felt certain he had seen her take it. 

She fell silent for a moment, before murmuring apprehensively: “Do you have a condom?”

He looked around automatically, eyes moving to the bedside table. “Somewhere.”

She nodded in relief. “I just want to be safe.”

“Of course.”

She pulled away, moving her weight from him as she got off the bed and searched through the chest of draws, raking through bobby pins and half-filled pots of moisturiser before she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a single packet, holding it delicately as she returned to the bed, dropping it on the covers where she could reach it again. “Do you mind?” She asked, looking straight at him. He sensed the worry in her voice and shook his head easily, confused as to why she would ask. 

“Why would I mind?” He shrugged. 

Satisfied, she smiled; changing her expression as she gestured to him with a single index finger. “Come here…” He sat up, moving forwards to grasp her hips and kiss her passionately as her palm brushed the centre of his crotch. “You’re so hard.” She whispered breathily against his lips, her voice sensual as she squeezed the shape a little roughly. 

Max groaned, allowing her to unfasten the button which tied the material together. “You make me hard.” He admitted, lying back when she started work on the second button and eased the fabric away from his waist, pulling his jeans down enough to free his underwear which bulged heavily beneath her touch. Looking up, she met his gaze; tilting her face at an angle which made him twitch. 

“Do you want my lips?” She asked, tugging eagerly at the waistband. He nodded, mouth parted as she freed him and wasted no time in wrapping her lips tightly around his reddened tip; her tongue getting to work on licking the precum which was seeping from him. His groans changed pitch at the contact, becoming almost a whine as she massaged the head with the flat side of her tongue; grasping him firmly in her hand which she twisted against her mouth. His groans turned to a series of pants as he watched her take him in more deeply, moving down his shaft which disappeared an inch at a time into her warmth. Almost guiltily, he uttered a cry, signalling he was about to overboil and she quickly withdrew, lightening her grasp and pulling away to remove her suspenders. The clasp on her garter belt was fiddly and Max took the time to calm down, grounding himself by looking away as she slid the sheer stockings down her legs and folded them neatly at the foot of the bed. 

When he turned back, his breaths finally slowing, she was unwrapping the condom, tearing the packet carefully and unravelling it from its confines. He eyed her carefully, not wanting to get too worked up again, but couldn’t help casting a glance over her long legs, now bare, and the space between her thighs, where her dark pubic hair stood out against her otherwise pale skin. He sighed as she reached for him, pinching the tip of the condom and rolling it down with a firm hand. 

“You should let me kiss you…” He protested, eyes still fixed on her cunt. She smiled, moving closer as she edged her body over his lower half. 

“I want your cock.” She whispered, taking him in one hand while the other gently parted her lips. He watched, almost in fascination, as she lowered herself against him; his tip and shaft slowly disappearing into her warmth as she moved down, eyes tightly closed and mouth parted at the sensation. He threw his head back, partially in response to the sight of her biting her lip which sent a shiver down his spine and a moment later, she moved against him; raising her hips as she fucked him. “Do I feel good?” She asked, watching him lay back against the pillows; the sensation overwhelming.

“Yes.” He groaned, brow furrowing as she switched movements and began rocking against him, grinding her clitoris as her own breath grew heavy. He couldn’t pull his eyes from her as she worked herself to orgasm, letting out a few cries as her eyes bolted shut. A blush spread across her cheeks and bare chest; the contractions of her walls pulsating against him, squeezing him through the condom until he couldn’t take it anymore. With a cry of his own, much louder than hers, he felt himself let go; a sharp, shooting sensation milking him of his energy as he came inside the condom. Cassandra helped him ride it out, not moving against him until he sucked in his breath, a little sensitive as he felt himself soften inside her. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered breathily as she carefully moved up, pinching the base of his cock lightly between two fingers as he slipped out of her, almost regretfully. 

“Was it good?” She murmured, allowing him to remove the condom while she sat back on her knees. 

“It always is.” He nodded, knotting the slippery latex and discarding it with some energy in the trash can across the room. He looked back as she stepped off the bed, fully nude and glowing with her blush. Max joined her side, kissing her lips lovingly. “I’m so lucky.”

Cassandra watched as he pulled away and sleepily perched on the edge of the bed. “I should go pee.” She mumbled, leaving him alone in the room while he rubbed his tired eyes, trying to focus on the room but failing massively. He heard the sound of the chain flushing, followed by the running of the bathroom tap and he leaned back against the covers, tucking his legs onto the bed. His cock, now deflated, lay slightly curved against his thigh as he settled against the covers, closing his eyes for just a moment. 

The sound of the draws opening beneath the wardrobe made him open them again as Cassandra slipped into a fresh pair of underwear; plain black and unfussy. 

“Are you napping?” She smirked, looking up. 

He nodded lazily, holding out his arms. “Join me.” He gently urged. “It’s been a long day.” Before he had time to see her response, his eyes had already shut, though he felt her weight against him some minutes later; her body warm and soft as she turned away to face the magnolia wall. He thought about spooning her, though couldn’t be sure whether his arm had actually moved before sleep enveloped him, drawing him down into the darkness. 

Unlike Max, her orgasm; a little forced but pleasurable nonetheless, had caused her body to waken even more and she watched the shadows on the wall move with interest as the sun slowly changed positions in the sky; moving down as twilight drew near. His gentle snores eventually started behind her and she tucked herself closer to him, feeling his chest against her back; urging herself to join Max and to make the most of being able to sleep without the bedroom door creaking open every few hours as Gabriel tried to crawl into bed with her. It was sweet really, but meant she was only getting a few hours of shut eye at a time, and eventually he would have to learn how to sleep quietly on his own. Her mind turned to Taehyung and she wondered if he ever let Gabriel sleep in bed with him, or if it was only her who got the unique pleasure of interrupted nap time. Her mind pondered the thought for some time as Max shifted against her, adjusting his position before falling back asleep. She could feel his cock against her; stiffening in the place where it met her lower back, though her acknowledgement of it was vague. The wispy hairs on her arms and legs were raised in the cool temperature of the bedroom as the sun started to set, and she automatically hugged herself tighter, placing her hands between the warmth of her thighs, against the curls of her hair, as her mind drifted. 

The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed to her that Taehyung let Gabriel sleep with him. After all, he satisfied his every other whim. The thought should have made her angry; after all, he often went against her wishes when it came to treating him to things she herself had forbidden. Chocolate, it seemed, was never off the menu in the Kim household, nor were expensive gifts or trips to the zoo. But instead, there was something comforting about it. At the very least it meant he wasn’t immune to his tantrums and demands. Sometimes having a small child felt like she was being held captive by some miniature monster who wanted to cause her as much stress as was humanly possible. But also, she loved him, and wouldn’t have changed that, she realised, even if she had done certain things differently.

Wide awake, her mind continued to turn and she realised, somewhat reluctantly, that wherever Max had gone, she wouldn’t be able to follow any time soon. With some effort, she got to her feet and padded, light-footedly, across the floor towards the wardrobe, opening it as quietly as possible where she found the dress she had worn earlier, before she had been talked into changing, folded haphazardly on the bottom shelf. She slipped on a bra, followed by the dress and, realising how cold she was, reached for the silk robe lying on the wooden floor. 

Behind her, Max stirred once more, rolling over on his side and giving a disgruntled snort. Her stomach churned guilty as she thought of him waking up alone, wondering where she was, and she padded back over to him lightly, giving his bare shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Max?” She whispered, having to repeat herself and tighten her grip a little before he grunted in response. “I’m going out for a bit.” She murmured, keeping her voice low. 

He opened one eye groggily, offering a small moan. “Do you want me to go with you?” He eventually asked, voice thick and gruff. 

“No…” She let go of his shoulder, wrapping the robe around her body. “You sleep.” 

***

The traffic seemed to match her mood; absent and distant. She drove carefully, though got to her destination quicker than anticipated, looking around as she locked the car and walked around the corner. The porch had been painted since her last visit, some time ago, and she looked at the wooden reliefs with curiosity; the floral shapes tipped with subtle goldleaf in places where it had no right to be. Only someone eccentric or incredibly rich would choose such decoration in Seoul; it looked as though it belonged in some Georgian country house in the heart of Derbyshire. Still, the woodwork was undoubtedly oriental in design, and true to its origin. Perhaps the architect would have approved of the change. Her knock was light, and she wondered if he would hear it in such a lofty place. The walls were thick and ceilings tall in his house; just as he liked them. Music was bound to echo tirelessly. Still, she waited before trying again, a little apprehensive at showing up unannounced and wondering if he might still be out at the park with Da-eun; the small, politely timid girl she had met earlier. For the first time that evening, the thought became solid in her mind and suddenly her chest sank. She hadn’t considered she might be interrupting them and she almost turned to go, tucking her little handbag beneath her armpit, when the door opened softly behind her. 

“Cass?” His voice was low and cast in doubt and she turned back, seeing him through the small crack in the door which he widened at once, revealing himself fully to her. He had changed since earlier. His black t-shirt was remarkably casual and at once familiar; the Joy Division print on the front one he had worn countless times before, when they first met. She wondered how he had somehow managed to keep hold of it, while all her belongings seemed to grow lost as easily as odd socks in the washing machine. He stepped aside. “What are you doing here?” Looking around, he gestured to her. “Quick, come in.” 

She hesitated, almost frozen by the panic in his voice, before following him inside where he shut the door heavily. At once, she looked around - finding the hallway decor likewise unfamiliar. “Am I interrupting?” She asked. The gentle sound of music drifted from a distant room, signalling a moment disrupted, but he seemed confused by her comment. 

“What?”

“Is Da-eun still here?” She clarified. 

Realising what she meant, he shook his head. “She went home.” He confirmed, voice softening a little to match hers, though still laced with paranoia. “Are you alone?”

“Max is asleep.” She nodded, watching as his eyes moved across her robe where her hands were folded against her, still a little cold from the chilly evening air. 

He frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I didn’t see anyone.” She confirmed, a little stubbornly. Her stomach seemed to churn at the tone of his voice, knowing he was protective but finding it all too much. 

“I have neighbours Cass.” He hissed loudly. 

She turned to him, eyes fixed against his as she raised her own voice. “And don’t you trust them?” 

He sighed, realising what was happening and letting it go. Arguing with her now was the last thing he wanted to do and he lowered his voice, hovering awkwardly in the long hallway. “That’s not the point…” His folded arms mirrored her movement. “If there was a problem you could have called me. I’d have come.” 

They fell silent, facing each other before she turned to the floor, realising she would have to explain her unexpected visit. He was waiting patiently, looking down at her until she spoke. “I just miss him.” She untucked her arms, looking up to read his expression. 

Taehyung blinked, eyelashes long. “He’s asleep.” He murmured, almost apologetically. 

“Oh…” She uttered, suddenly feeling at a loss. 

Taehyung was silent for a while, before he turned towards the hall. “You’re here now.” He accepted, walking down the corridor without looking to see if she would follow. It wasn’t until they reached the door at the end she realised she had even moved. He pushed lightly on the wood and the music grew louder as he led her into the sitting room, where the space was cast in shadows by the two dimly lit lamps in each corner. 

“Da-eun went home?” She asked again.

He nodded. “It’s her dad’s birthday.”

She saw the source of the tinny jazz; a record player, old and surprisingly battered, perched upon a table too small for it, beside the recognisable sofa where Taehyung had clearly been sitting. He moved aside the paperback on the chair to give her room, but she waited, looking around the space as she set her bag softly down on the floor.

“Did she get on with Gabriel?” Cassandra asked with some curiosity, eyes drawn to the busy wallpaper which seemed to cascade rather than hang across the room. 

His lips twitched in a smirk. “Like a house on fire.”

She nodded with a smile, not really hearing him. “That’s good…you finished your decorating.”

He looked up, blinking. “Do you like it?”

She nodded. “It’s William Morris isn’t it?”

“I thought it would go with the curtains.” He confirmed, drawing her eye to the heavy, thickly lined drapes. She walked over to them, touching the fabric in appreciation. They were coloured a deep, almost tarnished gold; tied back with thick ropes which added to the look.

“They’re beautiful.” She nodded, slowly walking back across the room. 

He watched her closely, eyebrows furrowed. “I could get you some.”

A doubtful sort of smile tugged at her lips as she joined his side, pausing a moment, before sitting on the colourful fabric. “I think they’re a little old fashioned for Max’s taste.” Cassandra admitted sheepishly. “He likes a more…” She tried to think of the word in Korean. “Contemporary look.”

“Sterile?” He offered seriously, and reluctantly she gave a smile, biting the inside of her cheek. 

“You could say that…”

They fell silent for a moment, keeping a distance between them, though the stray thread in the middle of the tapestry pattern kept her distracted. She tried hard not to tug at it. 

“How was your date?” He asked softly. 

“Fine…” She turned to him. “How was yours?”

He gave a small laugh, thinking for a moment. “Our son did most of the entertaining.”

She nodded, looking up automatically, to where he was sleeping above their heads. “I was looking forward to getting to know her a little better.” Cassandra admitted. 

“I think she was nervous to meet you.” He said gently, making her turn back towards him.  

“Me?” She frowned. “Why?”

He grew silent, casting his eyes to the wooden floor before shrugging. “Maybe I left it too long.” 

She sensed a touch of regret in his voice, and she touched his hand briefly, encouraging his gaze back to her. “I hope she knows I mean no harm.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper and his eyes met hers as they both stopped talking. The sound of jazz played in the background, turned down and not distracting from the otherwise silent room. She tucked a strand of hair neatly behind her ear, a question seeming to tingle on her tongue until she allowed it to escape. “Have you?” She asked cryptically, not needing to finish. 

He nodded, his dark eyes cast in shadow by his long lashes in the softly lit room. “Yeah.” He admitted. 

She didn’t know what answer she had expected, or whether she should have been surprised. Without thinking, her fingers moved to the stray strand on the sofa, running it absently between her fingers. His eyes followed her movement, knowing she probably hadn’t noticed, and he got slowly to his feet. 

“Did you want a drink?” He asked. 

Cassandra looked up and nodded. “Tea.”

She waited patiently for him to finish in the kitchen, watching the record spinning softly on the deck and wondering where he had picked up such a battered looking thing, before she remembered her bag. When he came back in the room, holding the small china mug carefully between his fingers, she was reaching into the tote and pulled out the small dish. “I made you something.” She said, holding it out to him once he set down the mug on the floor, finding there was no room on the table. “You’ll have to cure it yourself, do you still know that man with the kiln?”

He took it from her with both hands, turning it over but holding it with an appreciative delicacy.  “What is it?”

“Max and I took a pottery class.” She offered in explanation. “I thought you could keep it on your vanity.”

He ran his fingers carefully along the edged rim, before setting it aside on the floor, careful to keep it away from where it might be trodden on. “Thank you.” He said, watching as she reached for her cup and blew on the liquid gently. “Did you want to take him back with you?” He asked, suspecting that this might be the purpose for her visit. He tried to hide the disappointment in his voice, but she shook her head, surprising him. 

“No…I don’t want to disturb him.” She said. “It’s your time with him.”

He nodded thankfully. “I wish you could come around more…see his nursery.” Taehyung admitted, realising she had not seen it finished. 

She looked at him beneath, a little blankly. “It’s you that’s paranoid.” Cassandra took a sip of the fragrant liquid, thankful for its warmth. 

“For good reason.” He reiterated. 

She shook her head. “You shouldn’t punish yourself.” She sighed. “We both made the baby.”

Her words made him fall silent and he sat back as she drank from the cup, his own fingers finding the stray strand as easily as hers had, and plucking it absently. “There’s a spare bedroom, if you ever wanted to stay.” He eventually said, wondering why he had never thought of it before. 

“Max too?” She peered at him. 

He nodded calmly. “Yes.”

Not knowing how to respond, she set the finished mug back on the floor, sitting back. “Maybe I could have you and Da-eun around too.” She suggested. “For dinner.”

“If you’d like.” He nodded. 

Cassandra watched him get to his feet as he picked up the ceramic pot and walked over to the table in the corner, setting it down next to an oval-shaped mirror. She suspected she might have overstayed her welcome, but found herself finally starting to tire. The sofa was comfortable, despite its age, and the song on the player was one she vaguely recognised though couldn’t quite place. “What’s this one?” She asked, gesturing towards the device when Taehyung looked her way. 

“Do you not like it?” He asked, moving to turn it off. Despite being upbeat, the song seemed a little melancholy and reminded her of the past. She wondered if she might have heard it back in Belgium. Her parents liked to play jazz and there had been one bar they enjoyed frequenting with her which played it incessantly, allowing her a solitary sip of wine despite her young age. 

“Leave it.” She requested, waving her hand dismissively. There was something nostalgic about it, and she felt her heart begin to race, almost in excitement. She could imagine people dancing to it during the war; carefully-patched dresses and painted-on stockings filling a simple looking dancefloor as the women waited for the men to return home. 

The music swayed in a quickening beat, and Taehyung smiled in acknowledgement. “It’s one of my favourites.” He admitted, hesitating, before moving his arms in time to the music. She laughed softly, realising he was dancing to it, a little bashfully at first, before becoming less self conscious. He moved across the room, feet tapping against the hardwood floor as he gestured for her to join him. She smiled, shaking her head. 

“It’s been a while since I danced.” She admitted, though took his hand when he offered it and got to her feet. He moved his shoulders, letting go of her as he moved back across the floor. “I’m not joining in!” She warned, unable to help the smile in her voice at her second hand embarrassment. Had they been in public, she’d have chastised him for such shamelessly cringey moves, though being alone made it all the more awkward. 

“You always join in.” He teased, and she sighed heavily, realising that if history was anything to go by, he was right. There was never a time where she had passed up the opportunity to dance when the occasion or track called for it. 

“Am I that predictable?” She asked, making him cock an eyebrow knowingly. The music grew faster as the trumpets pumped along with the honky-tonk piano and she found herself moving along with him, bending her knees a little as she moved her arms in time with his, removing the robe and dropping it to the sofa to allow more movement. Like him, she felt embarrassed at first, but his own lack of awareness inspired her, and soon she was spinning on the spot, swaying her head and moving her hips. 

He kept his distance for a while, but the crashing conclusion almost begged for a spin and she offered her hand to him, allowing him to twirl her around until she felt dizzy. Her laughter filled the room as the song switched over, the upbeat sound replaced with something a little more slow and dreamy. He hushed her, pressing his finger to his own lips, though he was laughing too. “You’ll wake the baby.” 

She calmed down, fixing a strand of hair that had fallen from behind her ear, tucking it back in neatly. “He’s not a baby anymore.” She admitted, a little soberly. 

Taehyung’s smile dropped along with hers, though his expression was soft. “He’ll always be my baby.”

She nodded. “Mine too.”

Her breathing a little heavy, she turned towards the sofa, sitting down heavily and smoothing down the front of her dress, tucking it between her knees. He watched her, their faces equally flushed with warmth. “Do you want another?” He eventually asked, not knowing why. 

Cassandra looked at him, knowing at once what he meant and thinking for a long time. “I don’t know.” She eventually said. 

The room suddenly seemed more dim and he looked to the window, where an overgrown tree mostly blocked the view to the outside world. The sky had grown dark and it looked cold outside, a direct contrast to the glowing warmth and cosiness within the room. “Won’t Max be wondering where you are?” He asked quietly, making her follow his gaze. 

She slowly nodded, giving an involuntary shiver. “I should probably go.” She slipped the garment over her shoulders, hugging it closely to her as she got to her feet and collected her bag, suddenly realising she had no idea why she had come in the first place. Looking at Taehyung, she recognised he too was asking the same question, and she found herself awkwardly feeling a little stupid.

“I’ll kiss Gabriel for you.” He reassured her, waiting for her to lead the way. 

She nodded gratefully. “Let me know when you’re ready to bring him back.”

Realising he was waiting for her to make the first move, she stepped out of the room and walked down the hall, trailing her small bag absently behind her until she reached the door and turned back. 

“Be careful driving.” He warned and she knew he was talking about more than just the traffic. 

“I will.”

He smiled, opening the door for her. “I love the ashtray.”

Looking down at her feet, her cheeks reddened but she laughed in response. “It wasn’t supposed to be an ashtray.” She admitted. 

“I’m sure I can find a use for it.” He touched her shoulder lightly before pulling away.

“Thanks for the company.” She nodded. 

“You’re welcome.”

***

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[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 8

Word Count: 4.7K Paring: Jordan Li x Fem!Reader Prompt by @12-days-of-ficmas: christmas baby is sensitive about never being celebrated on their birthday/always feels skipped over Warnings: foul language

Summary: Being a Supe comes with its challenges. But there is no challenge bigger than being the child of Supes that do not care. (Y/N) has been constantly overlooked by her parents in all aspects of her life other than her abilities. Her birthday is not the exception. But there is one person that wants to make sure she knows how special she is, regardless of her powers.

A/N: I watched Gen V last year and naturally became obsessed with Jordan, so I had to give a day to them. I love them with all my heart and I loved this story too. Mainly because I selfishly wrote this about having a Christmas birthday 🤭🤭

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Studying at God U had been (Y/N)’s dream, much like many other Supes. She had been raised to idolize the lifestyle of a crime-fighting Supe and had been trained her entire life to one day become one of The Seven. That much her parents wanted for her. 

Having been B-list superheroes just like Polarity, they had wanted more for their daughter. They wanted her to rise through the ranks quickly and efficiently, making sure her name was in everyone’s mouth. More than her parents, they were her managers. Appearing in her life if and when necessary to make sure her image and reputation were always pristine. No amount of money, time, or resources would ever be too much to make sure their baby girl was one of the greats. They truly provided her with everything she could ever need except the love and warmth parents should give.

(Y/N) had always been their biggest marketing ploy. The golden child of Storm Surge and Radiance –the only title her parents cared for. While they went around the world giving conferences and interviews, the girl was stuck at home, by herself, training, slowly being molded into a daughter those heroes could be proud of. 

She grew up in isolation. There weren’t many people around her growing up the way she was. It wasn’t until she was touring the university that she finally found people like her –exactly like her. 

The first two people she met were Luke Riordan and Andre Anderson. They were finishing their freshman year at Godolkin University and had run into (Y/N) after she had gotten separated from her tour group. The duo had taken it upon themselves to show her the real God U and promised to take her under their wing when she finally arrived that warm August. 

In the coming months, the three of them engaged in nonstop communication as they helped her in her transition from intensive homeschooling and training to a more social and balanced life. They had also introduced her to Cate Dunlap and Jordan Li, the remaining members of the golden quartet of God U, as she liked to call them. 

The four of them were a refreshing breath in comparison to her life of isolation. She couldn't help but grow a certain affinity for the group of Supes, desiring nothing more than to be at the university to finally experience their friendship face-to-face. Especially a certain bigender student that had caught her eye. 

There was a sort of magnetism to Jordan Li that (Y/N) could not deny. She wanted nothing more than to know everything about them –their likes, their dislikes, their hopes, their dreams. She wanted to know what life by their side could be. And a small part of her hoped they wanted that as well. 

But when the day finally came to move to God U, she was met with a version of Jordan she had not seen over the phone. Where Andre, Luke, and Cate had welcomed her with open arms, even going as far as to help her move into her dorm, Jordan had decided to keep their distance from her. In their male form, he would grumble under his breath as he moved boxes into her room, asking Luke how long the whole ordeal would last. When Luke answered that they would probably end up getting food and spending the night with her, he could only scoff and say he’d be going to spend the night in his room. 

“Did I do something wrong?” (Y/N) questioned as she spread her duvet across her bed. “Why are they so mad?” 

“They’re probably tired,” Luke shrugged. “Jordan can sometimes get into these moods when they haven’t gotten much sleep.” 

“Maybe you should go check on them, then. I think I can manage by myself now.”

“Nonsense,” Andre grinned as he slid an arm across her shoulders. “We promised you some dinner, and that’s what you’re getting. Jordan’ll get over it soon enough.”

And that’s what she had hoped. 

But as the days passed, the only thing that seemed to grow in Jordan was contempt. They would avoid (Y/N) as best as they could, even going out of their way not to run into her. They would barely talk to her when the group went out to a party or simply had a comfortable night in one of their dorms. It seemed like nothing the girl did was good enough for them, and she couldn’t help but wonder if her crush on them would only damage her in the long run. 

Still, days turned to months, and suddenly (Y/N) was completing her first semester at Godolkin. She had become busy with her schoolwork, quickly rising through the ranks and coming very close to becoming one of the only freshmen ever to make it onto the Top 5. Christmas break had quickly approached, and the New York winter was coming in strong. Students all around were packing up to go home for the holidays, grateful for a small rest from the school. Granted, a lot of students had loving and supportive families to go home to. Even if (Y/N) didn’t, she was looking forward to sleeping in her own bed once more and having some time away from Jordan's icy treatment. 

After packing what was necessary, she rolled her suitcase out of the dorm building, half expecting to find her parents waiting for her, happy to take her home. Instead, she saw other students reuniting with their families or simply groups of friends driving away to their planned vacations. Meanwhile, the fire-wielding girl stood freezing, hoping to see even a glance of her birthgivers. 

Once twenty minutes had passed in the cold winter morning, (Y/N) knew deep down what had happened. But instead of jumping to conclusions, she dialed her parents’ phone. “Hey guys,” she said as their faces came up on the screen. “Where are you? You were supposed to pick me up half an hour ago.” 

“Oh, honey, we forgot to tell you,” her mother answered, bringing her face forward on the screen. “We had some last-minute stops added to the book tour, and we won’t make it home for Christmas.” 

“Yeah, kid, we talked to the Dean, and she said it was okay for you to stay at the dorms,” her father added. “Anything you need, just use the card.” 

“Can’t I at least go home? I mean, I could still see you when you get back. Even if it’s after Christmas.” 

“Honey, by the time we get back, you’ll be heading off to school again,” her mother said. “And there’s no point in you staying at home all by yourself. Might as well stay there and get ahead in some classes.” 

“Are you serious, mom? What about my birth…?” 

“Kid, sorry, the flight attendant is flagging us down,” her father interrupted. “We need to turn our phones off. But Nicole will come over sometime soon with your presents. And remember, any groceries or necessities, just use your card.”

“But…”  

“Merry Christmas, honey,” they chorused before the screen went black. 

(Y/N) shouldn’t have been surprised. It was not the first time she had spent the holiday alone, and it was definitely not the first time they had forgotten about her birthday. With it being so close to Christmas, it had somehow always slipped their mind. But something in her believed that it would have been different that time. She was out of the house and had very little communication with them; maybe they had missed her. Yet, nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change. 

As she felt tears falling from her eyes, (Y/N) turned around to head back inside before anyone could see her cry. Walking with her hands on her eyes, she bumped into someone harshly but couldn’t bring herself to care who it was. All she did was mumble an apology and head back into her room to sleep that bad dream away. 

By the time she had woken up from her nap, the building had emptied, and she felt, for the first time in a long time, truly alone. The halls would normally be bustling with chatter and mischief. But that winter night, the silence was the most chilling sensation of all. Her footsteps echoed as she walked to the bathroom, every step reminding her of how empty the school was and how alone she was.

For three whole days, (Y/N) had fallen into an automatic routine. She had gone for groceries the very next day, buying all the junk food her parents would have chastised her for getting. But they weren’t there. She had free reign and a credit card with a pretty high spending limit. If she wanted to drown herself in chips and ice cream, she would do so. 

Her parents’ assistant Nicole went by on the second day, but she had texted her to come downstairs and handed her a bag with presents without so much as looking up from her phone. It was the only human interaction she’d had; it had felt as cold as her parents had been. 

When her birthday finally arrived, three days before Christmas, (Y/N) left the school to buy herself a birthday cake. Her parents would have been furious at her for indulging in such a treat, but they couldn’t chastise her if they weren’t there. She had been dreaming of devouring an entire chocolate cake, savoring the taste of the rich flavor. Alas, all she found at the nearest grocery store was a simple vanilla cupcake without as much as a candle to light. Defeatedly, the girl walked home with her simple treat and braced herself for another birthday in solitude.

Once she was back at her dorm building, she pulled the cake out of the box and produced a flame from the tip of her finger. “Well, make a wish, (Y/N),” she whispered to herself after singing a sad rendition of Happy Birthday. “Not that they ever come true.” 

She blew away the flame and, with fresh tears in her eyes, took a bite of the slightly stale cupcake. It was rather hard and bland, but it was as good as she was gonna get without making it herself. And she had no energy left to bake herself a cake. 

As the doors of the elevator opened on her floor, (Y/N) was ready to cry herself to sleep watching another movie. She had not expected her entire hall to be filled with her friends and a chorused “Surprise!” to leave their throats. 

The girl startled at the noise, instinctually forming a ball of fire in her hand to defend herself against the intruder, but upon seeing her friends quickly put it out. There were couches in the halls, lights and streamers on the ceiling, and balloons littered all over. Where the vending machines normally were, a table of food and drinks rested, a beautiful birthday cake set in the center. 

“Holy shit,” was all she could mutter as Luke stepped forward and twirled her in a tight hug. “How did you guys know I was here?” 

“A little birdy told us, and we couldn’t let you have another birthday by yourself,” he smiled as he set her down. “Figured you’d want some company, at least for tonight.” 

“Yeah, and it’s also a good excuse to party at an empty school,” Andre added with a grin. “It just so happened that it was your birthday too.” 

“What if it hadn’t been?” 

“Then we’d be celebrating Christmas,” Cate smiled. “Either way, we were gonna come spend time with you.” 

“You guys are crazy,” she chuckled before wrapping them all in a hug. “Thank you.” 

(Y/N) disappeared for a second to change her clothes, and once she came back, the party went on full-steam ahead. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, there was alcohol and drugs, and everything felt perfect. She was surrounded by her friends –and some acquaintances that had only come to party– and for the first time in a long time, she felt happy and loved. And, even if it surprised her, she had been able to steal glances at her painful crush. 

Jordan had kept to themselves the entire time she had been there, finding ways not to run into her or even meet her eye. She noticed how he downed cup after cup, only engaging in conversation when others talked to him. But he hadn’t even smiled or nodded at her. If he was there, it was most likely because Luke had dragged them there. 

The girl wanted to enjoy her party. Bask in the love and care her friends had gifted her with, but it didn’t take long before Jordan’s obvious disdain started to damper her mood. She was dancing with a scowl, and every shot she downed was in an effort to forget the person she wanted the most. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Luke asked as he pulled her away from the loudness of the hall and into her room. “I thought you would like the party.” 

“I do.” 

“Then why do you look so sad, (Y/N)?” he pressed. “If it’s too much, I can get everyone out, and it’ll just be the five of us.”

“No, the party is great. It’s honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping as she felt embarrassment bubbling at the words she would speak. “The problem is Jordan, okay? It’s the fact that, for some fucking reason, they hate me and can’t even find a way to hide it on my birthday.” 

“Wait, you think… you think Jordan hates you?” he asked with a slight chuckle. “That’s crazy, (Y/N)!”

As he continued laughing, the door opened to reveal Andre and Cate with confused expressions on their faces. “What happened?” Andre asked. “Everything good?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke said in between laughs. “It’s just that (Y/N) thinks Jordan hates her.”

“No way,” Cate snickered. “Are you serious?”

“Are you?” (Y/N) emphasized. “How is this coming as a surprise to you?”

“Alright, then. What makes you think they hate you?”

“Well, Andre, for starters, they haven’t even said a word to me all night,” the girl started. “They avoid me in the halls and in classes. They’re always trying to intimidate me by changing into their male form when they spot me. They don’t speak to me unless they literally have no other choice. I’m pretty sure if they had been able to, they’d throw me out of God U. Not to mention all the stink eyes they’ve given me these past months. Yeah, Jordan definitely hates me.” 

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Luke said, still hunched over in laughter. “You really think they hate you.” 

“How is that funny?” 

“They were the one who planned this whole thing,” Andre answered. “If it hadn’t been for their call, we wouldn’t have known that you were here all by yourself.”

“Believe me, (Y/N),” Cate added. “They care a lot more than you know.”

“You’re kidding, right?” (Y/N) chuckled dryly. “There’s no way Jordan Li cares enough to do something like this.”

“You’re never gonna believe us, are you?” She answered Luke with a shake of her head. “Alright, then. All we have to do is get you two together so you can talk.” 

“Good luck with that,” she scoffed. “The last time they were forced to talk to me, they did it all over text. And not a single emoji.”

“You leave that up to us,” Luke grinned. “We’ll get you two alone.” 

(Y/N) didn’t understand what he meant until an hour after that conversation. The second they had left the room, they had gone back to partying. They danced and sang and drank, and she did everything possible to put Jordan in the back of her mind. But it was difficult as she saw them change from their male form to their female, taking a glass of champagne and downing it before going to talk to a girl. It irked her to no avail and only made her drink more and more. 

She wanted to numb all feelings. She wanted to forget about her parents, forget about her lonely Christmas, and forget about her fruitless crush on the one person who would never like her back.

As she served herself her third whisky sour in that hour, Luke got onto a table and called for everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone, are you having fun?” Everyone around him cheered, and a shit-eating grin spread onto his face. “That’s what I like to hear. But I think it’s time to kick it old school at this party and play a little rambunctious game. Something you might call seven minutes in heaven.”

His eyes fell onto (Y/N)’s as his grin grew, accepting a glass bowl from Cate as he continued. “I have here all of our names here, thanks to my beautiful girlfriend, Cate,” he said. “I’m sure you all know the rules of the game. But for the person who just came out of a decade-long coma, I will pull two names from this bowl, and those two people will be stuck in (Y/N)’s room for seven minutes. Normally, you’d make out or something similar, but you can’t force anyone to do that. So, whatever happens in that room is up to you.”

“Just do it on Marnie’s bed,” Cate interjected. “Not (Y/N)’s.”

“Hey!” Marnie, (Y/N)’s roommate, exclaimed before shrugging. “Eh, knock yourselves out.”

“Thank you, Marnie. I’ll make sure people thank you for your service,” Luke chuckled. “Well then, let’s see who our first person is. Andre, will you do the honors?”

The boy stepped beside his friend and stuck his hand into the bowl, making a whole scene out of mixing up the papers. But (Y/N) knew. “Jordan Li,” Andre announced. “Get over here!”

Jordan walked to the front of the crowd with a chuckle, her skin turning a soft shade of red. Luke got down from the table and draped an arm across her shoulders in a side hug, then landed his eyes back on (Y/N) before saying, “And who will be the lucky person to join our friend here, Andre?” 

With another pretend mixing of the names, Andre pulled out a paper with a smile that spread from ear to ear. “Well, if it isn’t the birthday girl herself,” he exclaimed. “(Y/N), get your ass over here.”

At the mention of her name, Jordan’s smile dropped and quickly changed into his name form, making (Y/N) roll her eyes. The alcohol was taking effect in her system and was making confidence surge from deep inside. Unfortunately, it was walking hand in hand with anger, and she was ready to give them a piece of her mind. 

She walked to the front of the hallway as everyone cheered and followed Luke to her room. Jordan walked in first, with her following close behind as their friend stopped at the door. “Have fun, you guys,” he smiled. “Your time starts now.”

As soon as Luke closed the door, Jordan sat on Marnie’s bed, looking everywhere but at her. He remained quiet and uninterested, making ire burn deep inside her. He played with his chain and kicked his feet forward, letting time pass by and anger build. 

“What the fuck is your problem with me?!” 

Jordan jumped at the sudden explosions, his eyes finally snapping toward her. He was sure steam was coming out of her ears, her face red with anger. “What do you mean?” he questioned. “I don’t have a problem with you.” 

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” she spat. “You’ve been avoiding me this entire semester. I don’t know what I did from the first time we talked to the first day of school, but you’ve done everything in your power to stay away from me. So, either I did something, or you just don’t like me.” 

“You didn’t do anything,” they answered sheepishly. “It’s… it’s complicated.” 

“C… complicated?” (Y/N) stressed. “Complicated is the fact that something seemed to change before the first day of school. And it was big enough that it made you change your impression of me. Unless you were pretending the entire summer and it got harder to do once we were in the same place.” 

“That’s not what happened. I wasn’t pretending.” 

“Then what is it, Jordan?” she exclaimed, biting back the tears that threatened to spill in her intoxicated state. “Because this whole intimidation and avoidance thing is getting quite old.” 

“Intimidation?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Jordan! Do you really think I’m that stupid?” (Y/N) questioned rhetorically. “Every single time you know I am near, you change into your male form. Whenever I try to talk to you, you walk away or answer in the shortest way possible. Hell, even when we all go out as a group, you keep as far away from me as possible. You’ve pushed me away all these months, and I think I deserve a reason why!” 

He startled at the raise of her voice. Her anger slapped him across the face, stinging as though she had actually hit him. They had been avoiding her, but she was nowhere close to the reason why. “I don’t hate you, (Y/N),” he said quietly. “I could never hate you.”

“Then, please, help me understand why you’ve been acting this way,” she pleaded. Her expression had softened, and Jordan could see the pain behind her teary eyes. “I just want the friendship we had in summer back. I mean, for almost three months straight, we talked nonstop, and suddenly, it was radio silence from you. What did I do for things to change so drastically?” 

“God, you didn’t do anything, (Y/N). It’s me that’s the problem!” Jordan exploded as he stood from the bed. He felt angsty, pacing back and forth as he prepared himself for the inevitable rejection. “I know we built a good relationship over the summer, and it was so good. But that’s the problem. I don’t want to be your friend.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) answered defeatedly. “Sorry. I thought…” 

“No! This is coming out all wrong,” he said as he ran his hands across his face in frustration. “I don’t want to be your friend because I want to be more than that. (Y/N), I’ve liked you from the moment we met. Through the phone, it was easy for me to keep my feelings in control. But here, seeing you around 24/7, it’s been hard to keep it all in control.” 

“Wait, you like me?” she questioned, her heart fluttering fast against her chest. “Like, like me, like me?” 

“Of course I do!” he yelled as frustration got the best of him. “You’re this amazing, talented, unbelievably bright girl. How could I not? But I thought pushing you away would be the easiest way to get over you.” 

“But I don’t get it, Jordan. Why not tell me? Or, hell, even ask how I felt?” 

“Because you’re you, and I’m me! You deserve to be with someone easier, someone that’s in your league,” Jordan confessed. “I come with very heavy baggage, and you don’t deserve to have to carry it. You should be with someone who knows who they are and knows what they want. Definitely not someone who needs constant validation to feel good enough. Even so, at the end of the day, I know you don’t even like me. I mean, you’ve only ever had boyfriends, and that’s an easier thing to explain to parents about and…” 

(Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed Jordan’s face and crashed her lips onto theirs. They tasted of champagne and chocolate, a mix as soft and divine as their mouth felt. It took everything in her not to melt at the touch. And suddenly, the face they had been holding had grown smaller. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw Jordan’s female form in front of her. 

“Oh, hi.”

“See? This is not what you want,” she sighed. “I’m not…” 

Once more, (Y/N) interrupted them with a kiss. “I don’t care what gender you are, Jordan,” she smiled, running her thumb across her cheeks. “I like you for who you are. The entire time you’ve been trying to forget about me, I’ve been trying to get close to you because I like you, you idiot.” 

“You’re just saying that.” 

“Why would I lie about this, Jordan? Hell, you can ask Luke about it if you don’t believe me.” 

“Luke?” she chuckled. “You’ve told Luke about this?”

“There have been a couple of drunkenly sad confessions over the past few months about it,” (Y/N) sighed, hiding her face in embarrassment. “Andre caught some of them as well. But yeah, they know. They’re actually the ones who orchestrated this whole thing.” 

“Sort of gathered that seven minutes in heaven was a ruse,” Jordan smiled. “Especially since we’ve gone past seven, and no one has come to knock on the door.” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “They also told me you were the one who planned this whole thing.” 

“I was,” she answered meekly. “I overheard you talking to your parents on the last day of school. You actually bumped into me, and it broke my heart to see you crying like you were. I couldn’t bear knowing that you’d spend another birthday by yourself, so I made quick arrangements to get everyone back today.” 

“So, you did the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, and you still avoided me all night?”

“I’m a bit of a coward, (Y/N),” she laughed. “And, well, up until a minute ago, I thought there was no way you could actually like me. Not this version of me, at least.” 

“Mm, that explains the continuous shifting into your male form when I’m near,” (Y/N) grinned. “But, regardless of everything that’s gone down these past few months, thank you, Jordan. You have no idea what this all means to me.” 

“I thought it was about time you knew how loved and appreciated you are,” Jordan smiled, wrapping her arms around (Y/N)’s waist and pressing her close to her body. “Sorry that it took so long for me to tell you the truth. And I’m sorry your parents are assholes that don’t know how fucking special you are.” 

“Thank you, J,” she said as a tear rolled down her eye. “I don’t care how long it took. I’m just happy it finally happened, and now you don’t have to pretend to hate me.”

“God, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how horrible it must have felt to think that.” 

“Well, now you have a lot to make up for,” she grinned, crossing her arms around Jordan’s neck. “Starting by wishing me a happy birthday.” 

“Happy birthday,” Jordan said before kissing her lips and accentuating every word with a peck. “Happy. Fucking. Birthday. And. Merry. Fucking. Christmas.” 

Their soft kisses rapidly turned heated. Hands exploring bodies, touching and searching. They twisted and turned until Jordan crashed (Y/N) onto the wall, kissing from her lips down to her neck, finding that one spot that made her moan. (Y/N)’s hands snaked into Jordan’s hair, gripping tightly at the base. It was passionate and feverish, and it was taking everything in them not to rip each other’s clothes off. 

And it was also rudely interrupted. 

“Hey, we’re gonna sing…” Luke said as he opened the door. “Woah. Didn’t think seven minutes in heaven worked this well.”

“Luke!” Jordan yelled. “What the hell?!” 

“Sorry,” he snickered. “I thought you guys were only going to talk.” 

“We… we did,” (Y/N) said. “We just moved on from that.”

“I’m glad,” he grinned. “But people want cake, and I’m not letting anyone get a piece until we’ve sung you happy birthday. So, get out here now. You guys can keep making out later.” 

As he exited, both of them broke out into laughter as they wrapped their arms around each other. They smoothed down their clothes and their hair before walking toward the door, an aura of giddiness surrounding them.

 “Will you stay after the party?” (Y/N) asked, pulling Jordan by their forearm. “After everyone’s gone back home, will you stay with me a little longer?” 

“I’ll stay the rest of Christmas break if that’s what you want,” she smiled, threading her fingers through hers. “We really do have a lot to catch up on.” 

Next ->

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#andreafmn #what you want #jordan li #jordan li imagine #gen v prime #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #jordan li x y/n #london thor #gen v #gen v amazon #luke riordan #andre anderson #cate dunlap #idiots in love #fanfiction #fan fiction #light angst #happy holidays #happy ending #romance #fluff #christmas #12 days of christmas #12 days of fandom #12 days of ficmas #derek luh #before canon #godolkin university #god u

[ghostoffuturespast]

So It Goes

24 March 2022 - 13 April 2024

Status: Complete

Read in its entirety on AO3

(Shave a thousand off for the last chapter though, it's stuff that was too long for the notes.)

Welp, I finally did it. Finally got that little green check mark. I finished my fic. My ode to my tinfoil hat is complete. It is goddamn fucking done! I still need to go back to fix some things and polish this up, but that's easy money. The hard part is over, kids.

This is the first fan fic I ever wrote/writed/writtended and I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I started this story. But at two years and nearly half a million words later, it was far more than I anticipated and ever thought I was capable of. To say this fic took on a life of its own is an understatement. Not only did this thing Frankenstein its way out of my head, but it also took over my life. So if you've taken the time to read this fic, dropped a kudos, or a bookmark, or a comment. Thank you, truly.

Writing this was a hell of a lot of work (blood, sweat, tears, and lots of overthinking), it wasn't always easy, and often felt impossible at times. Trying to juggle irl life, writing, navigating the fandom experience, and tempering my expectations of my friends and peers... Let's just say it's been a learning experience.

But I did it. We made it. We're here.

So I'm gonna take a victory lap, take a breather, possibly a nap, and after that, Grandpa V and Old Man River will be back at some point. Idk when yet.

Because, of course, I'm an idiot and there's a part II to this fucking thing.

It only took me 33 chapters to get to the punchline of this joke...

#cyberpunk 2077 #fic: so it goes #nothing comes before night city #writing #fan fiction #oc: valerie hye jin li #my grandpa v #stinky not fresh #river ward #v x river ward #otp: so it goes #i am so dumb for these two #i am so dumb for tinfoil choo choo #toodles y'all #ka-ciao! off to enjoy my summer vacation 😎👻 #it's still shippy saturday right? #shippy saturday

[elf-trash]

I can't believe it's been almost 2 years since I last updated The Rebel Path ughgslkjsdf my goal for the month is to change that

#vero verne #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #fem v #female v #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 photomode #cp2077 photomode #cp2077 screenshots #v #fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fic #cp2077 fanfic #fic #fic writing #fan fiction

[assandanattitude]

I liked a few too many gay as fuck Jordan Li posts and now my entire feed is fan fiction

#jordan li #jordan x marie #i mean im definitely not complaining and will be reading them all because im a jordan simp #fan fiction #gen v #the boys #queer #making me put the pan in panic lmao

[astroluvr]

Angel Girl

summary: you and jack are in the process of getting divorced- on your terms, but when he sees you again at a party, things take a left.

warnings: there is smut- like 2/3 smut, so minors DNI!! for everyone else, this story contains: jealous!jack, toxic!jack, slight degrading, slight choking, car sex, ass slapping, humiliation, and i'm pretty sure that's it lol

a/n: this is my first and last time ever writing smut and i also don't really read smut, so if it sucks, you can tell me. it also took me a month to write this, so i apologize for any awkwardness and any inconsistency throughout and the sloppy ending. this will more than likely be the worst smut you'll ever come across, but that's probably a good thing. i hope you enjoy!!

People told the two of you when you first got eloped after a year of being together that you were moving too fast, but your hearts and minds were impenetrable forces in the fever pitch of your love. From there, things moved even faster- and eventually in different directions.  

It wasn’t that you two fell out of love, but instead realizing it just wasn’t for the best. You gave up the battle long before Jack did, despite how much it hurt you to. You were young and there was still so much that you two had to offer to the world before you drained yourselves with the effort of keeping a flame alive.  

You found a new confidence and security within yourself and your personal ventures that you didn’t know you lost and Jack’s career flourished over the months. Nothing slowed down for either of you afterwards.  

It was a hot summer night somewhere in a rich neighborhood where people had houses dedicated to throwing parties. You didn’t even know the owner of the house, but it was an extended invitation that you weren’t going to miss out on. Claiming it was in the name of your promotion, you put on the hottest outfit in your closet and made yourself look as good as you felt.  

All the windows and doors were open and letting in the muggy air. Your body was sticky and even the wine cooler in your hand was starting to sweat. You giggled to your friend as you held it up to your head and leaned back against a wall with her.  

“This is nice.” you laughed after she tipped her own drink in your mouth. You grimaced at the taste and remembered how partial Angie was to strong drinks.  

“Yeah, I feel like I never see you anymore.”  

“You live right around the corner, Ang.”  

“Yeah, but you’re always working and stressing out over the divorce.”  

“Separation.” you corrected her quietly and she gave you a side eye. “And I’m not stressed about it. It’s just that every time I try to talk to Jack about it... he clams up. Talks about getting back together and he gets weird.”  

“Weird how?” Angie asked, and the moment she saw a frown form on your lips and your shoulder slump, she stopped you short. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want to hear it. We’ll discuss it when we’re hungover tomorrow. Tonight, you need to catch a body, girl.”  

You laughed at her bluntness and grew warmer than you already were. “Angie!”  

“No, I am sick and tired of hearing about your bitch-ass ex-husband-to-be.” she set her cup down and ushered you to take a long sip out of your own drink. “He stressed you out enough when you were together.”  

After giving her a quick peck on the cheek, you grabbed her hand and danced your way into the center of the party, where the music blasted and sweaty bodies grinded against each other’s. You had no intention of going home with anybody besides Angie for the mandatory night-out sleepover, but that didn’t mean you weren’t feeling yourself or the eyes on you as you danced to the music.  

With Angie as your hype woman, you slowly worked your way closer to the floor with her chanting behind you. You were all laughs and giggles as you danced and traded places with Angie as she pulled out moves that were more advanced than your own. It was when the two of you were hugging on to each other while yelling out moves that the crowd wafted away and a few people pulled out their phones.  

You couldn’t quite catch who was at the door, but it was obvious that you were distracted because you totally missed the deep voice that drew your attention.  

“Y/N.” Angie hissed, unravelling from you as a handsome man came into view. “Sorry, she hates crowds.” You glanced at Angie for her lame excuse, but she shrugged aggressively.  

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” you smiled politely, and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”  

The man in front of you looked down at your hand with a smile and you began to retract it in embarrassment, but he caught it quickly and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. With a soft giggle, you pulled it from his loosening grip and clasped your hands behind your back. Angie caught your eye over his shoulder and with a quiet whistle, she disappeared back onto the dance floor.  

“I’m Garret.”  

“Hi, Garret.” you said quietly, feeling shy all of a sudden.  

“I can’t quite hear you over the music.” his said, and you went to repeat yourself, but he tilted his head back to the kitchen. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? I want to hear everything you have to say.”  

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding your head and letting him lead you away.  

You weren’t nearly wasted, so you indulged yourself in another wine cooler that sat in a cooler behind the bar. You held one out for Garret, but he shook his head. “I’m a scotch kind of guy.”  

“Good to know.” you smiled at him as he leaned back. “Too strong for me.”  

Garret laughed as he picked up a bottle of it and poured it into a shot glass. “I’m surprised. You seem like the fun-loving type.”  

“I don’t come out to stuff like this often. My bones can’t keep up with it.” you joked and Garret laughed. “What about you?”  

“Um, I’m not really a party guy. We were just supposed to be bar-hopping.”  

“That’s how they get you.” you sighed jokingly and Garret laughed.  

“I like you.”  

“Well, thank you. I’m really glad our paths crossed tonight.”  

“Do you want to dance with me?” he asked, and you nodded setting down your drink and following him back into the center of the house.  

Your hips were already moving just a few inches away from his front as he held your hand behind your head. You laughed when he spun you around and tugged you close to his chest. He stared down at you underneath the dark lights and a surge of confidence ran through your body and you licked your lips before getting close to him.  

“Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispered in your ear as you grinded against him, trailing your hands along his sides.  

You tilted your head coyly with a teasing pout. “But we just started dancing.”  

“I know, but I don’t know if I’ll make it through this.” he chuckled when you crouched the slightest bit and looked at him through your eyebrows.  

“Hang in there, tiger.” you breathed out, and the man’s breath hitched as you continued your sensual grinding.  

There was no doubt about your effect on him as the sweat glistened on his forehead under the lights while he stared at you slack-jawed. You felt powerful as you worked your way around him, feeling the way he flirted with boundaries each time he carefully placed a hand anywhere below your waist. You smiled at him invitingly, but he was still too scared.  

As you stood up straight, pressing your chest to his and getting dangerously close to his lips, you saw a head of the unruliest curls. Garret continued to stare as you kept your fiery gaze on the tall figure that cut through the crowd with confidence and an air of dominance that made your heart flutter. Your hold on Garret’s shoulders loosened when Jack locked eyes with you.  

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere else?” you didn’t give Garret time to answer when you started to walk away, causing him to follow you.  

“Uh, does m-my place sound good? Or I could get us a nice hotel?” you turned around to give him an answer- being that you had no interest in either of those places, but a loud call of your name stole your attention.  

“Y/N!” with just a few feet away from the front door, where traffic was steady, Jack was approaching you both with an eager grin. “Hey, baby.”  

“Don’t call me that.” you immediately muttered, much to Garret’s confusion.  

“Do you know him?” Garret asked you, putting up a macho charade as Jack got closer. “Hey, man, if you’re drunk, you need to stay away from her.”  

Jack’s smile got wider as he looked down at you with an incredulous grin before looking back at Garret- whom he towered over, and taking in his puffed chest and pursed lips before laughing.  

“I’m her husband, goofy, who the fuck are you?”  

“Jack.” you hissed, and he looked down at you with a shrug.  

“You’re married! You were going to let me take you home with your husband here?” Garret looked appalled and all you wanted to do was pinch Jack for stirring this up.  

You turned around, but not before throwing Jack an angry look. “No, I’m sorry. Jack and I aren’t an item.”  

“But he’s your husband?”  

“Legally, technically, yes.”  

“Yo, I’m not into that kind of stuff. I’m not a freak like that.” Garret took a step back and your cheeks warmed.  

“No, we’re married, but only in the eyes of the court.” you tried again, but it was useless.  

“I think I’m going to pass on this one. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. If you weren’t married, we would’ve hit it off, I’m sure.”  

“I’m sorry about all of this.” you said, but he was long gone before you could quite finish your sentence.  

With a huff, you turned around to Jack who had on the tightest white tee shirt and a pair of blue jeans. You weren’t sure if it was the deprivation getting to you, but he got hotter every time you saw him. Of course, perhaps that was because of his rigorous training to get in better shape for tour or whatever genetics he had, but it was irresistible, which is why it took you so long to remember you were supposed to be mad at him.  

“Hi, angel girl.” he said cheerfully, getting close enough for you to push your hands against. “I didn’t mean to mess with your boyfriend.”  

“You are so aggravating, Jack.” you shook your head, and scoffed at him.  

“I was just messing with him.” he defended, seeming more agitated than anything. “I didn’t tell him a single lie. We’re married.”  

“We’re over. It’s only paperwork.”  

“Paperwork that meant the world two years ago.” he mocked, before changing his demeanor in your silence. “You’re mad because now you think you aren’t gonna get laid?”  

The music seemed a lot louder before Jack arrived, and now he was taking over your senses. The black light and strobing LEDs were replaced by his darkened blue eyes, the smell of weed and sweat became his cologne, and all you could hear was his voice that deepened with every word that edged closer to his taunt.  

“I’m not doing this with you tonight.” you rejected him, turning around on your heel out of the door even though you had no way home outside of Angie who was playing beer pong on top of someone’s shoulders.  

Before you could even make it a few steps away, two large hands were clutching onto your waist and pulling you back. Your back met Jack’s chest, eliciting an involuntary shudder. Even though you didn’t even try to fight him, his grip got tighter and his beard grazed against your skin as he lowered his mouth closer to your ear.  

“Let’s go outside, hm? Because I’d love to know where this attitude is coming from.” he whispered, and you pursed your lips. “I’m not a fan of it, if I’m being honest.”  

“Jack, I-”  

“Outside, angel.” he let go of your waist and instead placed his hands on your arms, guiding you outside. 

You kept your head down as Jack navigated you to the door that was already open. A few people stood outside on the porch with drinks and smoke, and they greeted the star accordingly. If it wasn’t for him removing his hands to dap them up, you wouldn’t have realized how cold it was.  

“You alright?” he asked, when he put one of his hands on your lower back and you nodded.  

“Just cold.”  

“I’ll turn the heat on in the car.”  

You weren’t sure how he was able to do it. The way Jack was able to lock eyes with you and snub out the fire that you set inside the party came so naturally. You were nervous in a sense, but it seemed like time was moving too slow for your taste as he took long strides towards his Jeep that was parked a little further away from the rest of the cars.  

“I wasn’t going to sleep with him.” you said timidly, and Jack only spared you a quiet glance before looking up towards the moonlight.  

“I know, angel.”  

“How would you know that?” you frowned, stopping in your tracks when you remembered who were dealing with.  

The haze that his dominating presence wore off as you realized just who you were dealing with. A smug, cocky man who always expected to get his way. It only took Jack a few seconds to turn around and look you up and down with an amused smile playing on his face.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Not this! I’m not getting in the car with you, so you can sweet-talk me into a dinner or something and then turn it into us getting back together. I’m done, Jack. I’m done with all of it.”  

Jack didn’t say anything further, he only continued to walk towards his car.  

“Don’t do that, Jack. You know how much I hate when you walk away when I’m talking to you.” you started to follow him against your better judgement. “Jack!”  

“You said you don’t want to do this, so we won’t. If you want to go back to that party and dance with random guys that aren’t man enough to fuck you, go right ahead.”  

“Who do you think you are?!” you got closer to him and Jack glared down at you. “We are separated, Jack, the only thing that’s left is to sign the papers. We’re over, so you don’t have the right to walk into my life when you feel like it and talk about who you think I might be fucking.”  

Jack’s nostrils flared before he grabbed you again and pinned you against the outside of the car roughly. “I’m your husband.”  

“That doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.” you told him finally, straining as he got closer to you, his eyes on your lips and yours on his. “We’re over.”  

“You want to know what I’m over? What I'm sick and tired of?”  

“What?” you asked roughly and Jack licked his lips before straightening his posture and looking down at you.  

“I’m fed up with this fucking attitude.” he told you before grabbing your wrists and tugging you against his chest. You didn’t have a choice but to look up at him. “And I'm really tired of your mouth. And I’m sick and tired of you acting like you don’t miss me, angel.”  

His last sentence was low as his firm frown turned into a smirk. You willed yourself to not have a reaction, although Jack’s hold on your mind and body was making a fool out of you.  

“Still, though, I want to apologize.” he released your wrists and gave you a falsely sympathetic look. You didn’t say anything, given that Jack had taken over the moment- perhaps one he’d been waiting on. “For scaring off your dick for the night. Wouldn’t have been as good as mine, but we both know that. So let me make it up to you.”  

“What are you talking about?”  

“You need it, angel girl.��� Jack laughed out in amusement and you glared at him with all the dignity you could muster. “Fuck, I need it.”  

When you didn’t immediately protest, Jack’s hands attached to your hips that he used to press you further against the car. His lips suckled to each sensitive spot on your skin masterfully. Your own hands fell to the metal of the car as you became even more determined to not allow Jack to win your body just yet.  

It became harder to purse your lips as his beard irritated every body part he nipped or kissed at, and his hands gripped your hips and waist. Jack must’ve taken notice, which wasn’t surprising, because when he looked up at your face from your neck, he couldn’t help but laugh and run his thumb against your lips.  

“Damn, it’s like that?” he chuckled, shaking his head before kissing your chin and standing straight to look you in your eyes. “Come on, Y/N, we both know that mouth makes much prettier noises than saying shit you don’t mean.”  

You kept quiet once more and Jack raised his eyebrows before talking. “Maybe I’ve lost my touch, then. Forgot all the spots that had you falling apart just a few months ago. Is that it? Because I don’t want to embarrass myself, baby, if I’m not making you feel good, stop me now.”  

“No.” was all you could utter, and it was clear you would’ve been better off keeping your mouth shut because Jack only teased you further.  

“No, I’m not making you feel good or no, don’t stop?”  

“Don’t stop.” your voice was airy and complacent, feeding into his irritating ego.  

“What was that?” he got closer, getting his ear closer to your mouth.  

“I said, don’t stop, Jack.”  

“Why not? Why don’t you want me to stop?” he egged you on further and you whined childishly. “That’s not an answer.”  

Jack’s smug blue eyes landed on you again, and you let out a heavy breath.  

“I don’t want you to stop because I want you to fuck me. I want you to keep making me feel good.” you twisted your foot into the gravel as you faced Jack’s pensive expression. “Please, Jack.”  

“There she is.” Jack grinned and another sigh escaped from deep within your chest. “Want me?”  

“Yes, please.”  

Jack bathed in your submissiveness, his hard-on becoming painful when you became something resembling putty as he opened his front door and sent the chair back before sliding in and pulling you onto his lap. You were sat right against his crotch and before you could even take a breather, he was tearing the fabric of your top.  

You gasped at the way things picked up so quickly, but Jack couldn’t be bothered to slow down. Your head flew back and you hardly noticed the evening chill finding its way into the car.  

“Jack, p-people are gonna see.” you breathed out while he kissed along your breasts that were sitting in your lacy bra- that you were rather surprised he hadn’t ripped. Your top was still straggling on your arms as he palmed at your stomach.  

“I don’t care.” he gripped your hips when you leaned up at an effort to reach for the door and you whined. “It’ll tell everyone you’re mine, won’t it? Since you like to lead men on and make ‘em think you don’t already have someone taking care of you.”  

You wished you could dispute it, but even as much you declined and tried to make it clear that his “care” wasn’t necessary, you couldn’t. When you first broke up, Jack was rather subtle about making sure your car was kept up or you weren’t giving yourself a headache trying to figure out how you were going to pay your bills- although that was never really a problem for you, and you only contributed it to making things amicable.  

It was soon after that the few hundred dollars every other week, all kinds of pretty clothes being sent to you, and transfers to get yourself ‘something nice’ became overbearing. No matter how much you appreciated it all, it wasn’t very helpful when it came to trying to have Jack understand that it wasn’t his place anymore.  

Once you blocked him on all everything, and started returning things to sender, Jack got to you through your friends. You had no clue how many times your friends secretly swiped their cards with the money Jack sent to treat you before you caught on.  

“I keep telling you, Jack. You don’t need to do that.”  

“Even if you keep trying to tell me that you’re not my wife, I married you and I made you a promise. No piece of paper will ever undo that.” he whispered, unclasping your bra and making you whine when he pulled it away slowly and the rest of your shirt fell by his feet. “I’m going to take care of you forever, whatever you could ever possibly want or need, I’ll make sure you have it.”  

One of the most damning things Jack could ever do to you, is talk. It didn’t even have to be dirty talk, not one lewd word had to fall from his lips for him to get what he wanted from you. Even towards the end when the arguments were tiring, he could hold your eye contact and lower his voice to a gravelly hilt, and you would be as good as gone.  

The same way he talked to calm you down was the same way he talked as he lifted up your skirt to bunch up right above your hips and inching his fingers up your inner thigh to meet your warm core. Your heart pounded and you swallowed as if you nervous and this was uncharted.  

“I can’t clean up all the mess I've made, sweetheart, I know that, but I can start here. I can start with you.”  

His words carried a layer of guilt and acknowledgment, and it wasn’t everything, it wasn’t going to be the first brick to build the house, but it was enough. It was enough for you to nod and spread your legs invitingly before leaning to kiss him.  

“Thank you, angel.”  

“Just this once, Jack.” you mumbled against his lips as he slid your underwear to the side and felt him hum against your lips. “Being serious.”  

“I know.” he said dismissively before capturing your lips at the same time his fingers slid into you.  

You hadn’t forgotten him or how it felt when he touched you. It was like relighting an old candle, the spark and fire that spread from the bottom of your was the same as it was all before. You writhed on his lap and Jack’s other hand wrapped around your lower back to keep you still. The sound of your arousal and loud moans filled the car as you rocked onto his fingers.  

“Fuck, Jack. Fuck.” you couldn’t help but let out a pant and kiss him hotly once more before grinding into him.  

“I still got it?”  

“Mmhmm.” you swallowed, gripping his wrist as he curled his fingers inside of you. “Jack, this- this isn’t enough. I need you.”  

“You sure you can take it? You look like you’re about to cry.”  

“Shut up.” you uttered without thinking, and your and Jack’s eyes flickered onto each other’s at the same time. Yours were a lot more nervous, though, especially when he squinted and removed his fingers as you whined. “Jack, I’m-” 

“This mouth,” he interjected, licking his own lips and pushing his slick fingers into your mouth. You suckled at a lame attempt at avoiding his next move, but it was obviously no use when he clucked his tongue and pulled his fingers away. “It’s going to get you in a lot of trouble with me, angel. Keep trying to play brat and I swear, you’re going to come crawling back and begging me to fuck you again, and I know you don’t want that.”  

The tension was palpable as you stared at his stern expression. “Please, Jack. Please, baby.” you rolled your head desperately as you massaged uselessly at his shoulders. “C’mon.”  

He swallowed tensely before his chest tensed and one of his hands slipped down to put the seat back. You immediately took it as a chance to rub over his chest and trail your hands down to the strained fabric of his jeans that was right above your core grinding against Jack’s rough denim.  

“You’re all mine tonight, you know that, right?”  

“Mmhmm.” you hummed, palming him while you hissed as you elicited your own pleasure.  

Before you could fall into a decent groove, Jack’s large hand gripped your chin and forced you to look down at him. The street lights were no more than ambience lighting as they illuminated his features, capturing the light that escaped his hooded blue eyes, the gloss of his plump lips, and the shine that coursed through his hair. Beneath you, he was still yours. For as much as you pushed, he pulled.  

“Say that.” he muttered, low and raspy, while your mouth opened in close. 

“I’m yours tonight.” you whispered back and Jack smirked before bucking up his hips into your hand.  

“Alright, then.”  

With the nod towards his visibly hard crotch, you unbuttoned his pants with jittery hands, and looked up at him to find him still waiting for you to do something. When you paused for a moment too long, growing nervous, Jack’s husky voice filled the car to bring you reassurance when he leaned up to kiss your forehead.  

“You don’t have to. I won’t think anything of it.”  

“I want to.” you breathed out, and Jack raised his eyebrows. “It’s just been so long and I don’t want to... I don’t want it to be less than you expect.”  

“You think I’m worried about how good it is when this is the closest, I've gotten to you in months, pretty girl?” Your cheeks warmed at his sentiment that made you shake your head as Jack’s hands trailed up your bare torso as he relaxed you with his touch. “I get to touch you, that’s all I care about.”  

His thumbs grazed your peaked nipples and you released a choked-up moan as you leaned towards into his body. Jack rumbled at the back of his throat when he released himself from his pants, and felt you slide against his tip. The both of you moaned and gripped each other, Jack’s hand going to squeeze at your hip and your own to his bicep.  

“Fuck, Y/N.” he huffed, gripping his shaft in his hand as he looked up at you. “You’re still sure?”  

“Yes.” you mumbled, clutching the hem of his white shirt in excitement.  

You both held eye contact as you lifted up on your ankles to allow Jack to guide his length towards your center. You pursed your lips and let your eyes slip shut as you held onto Jack’s shoulders and waited for the inevitable sting of the stretch overtake you.  

“Fuck.”  

“Oh, my- Jack.”  

Your head fell and Jack helped lower your body to meet him. Both of your hearts were pounding in slow succession as Jack lifted back up to grind you against him and kiss along you.  

“Missed the way you sat on this dick all pretty, baby.” you tilted your head back and quivered salaciously while he marked the column your neck. “Bet you missed the way it felt all in you, too, didn’t you?”  

“Yes, Jack.”  

“Yeah? Ride me like you mean it, then. Like you’re so sorry for being so mean to your husband.” he said as if he were a victim.  

If you weren’t in such a daze, you would’ve shaken your head and said something snarky, but the only response you could offer to the way he rolled his hips and gripped your ass. You nodded and leaned up, placing your hands on his sides while looking down at him.  

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby.” he told you, fondling your breasts as you leaned back and set your pace and immersed yourself in the full feeling that Jack provided.  

“You’re so big, J.” you rushed out through your moans and Jack smirked. “Fuck.”  

You readjusted yourself to a more comfortable position and halted when the angle hit all the right spots. You cursed under your breath and Jack laughed as he grinded his own hips to match your languid rhythms.  

“You’ve had so much mouth, angel, what happened?” he teased you condescendingly and you huffed when his two fingers found your clit and circled the bud even slower. Your mouth fell open and your eyes were quickly drawn to Jack’s. “Has all of this been your really cruel way of saying, ‘fuck me, Jack’?”  

 “Jack.” you swallowed, picking up your pace as you bucked your hips desperately when he removed his fingers and stopped fucking you. “Jack, please, baby.”  

“All of that shit talk, and now look who’s fucking themselves.”  

You hadn’t realized how quickly you’d picked up, lifting yourself and bucking your hips for the slightest bit of stimulation. The buzz in your body was nothing compared to the pure shock Jack could send up and through you in a matter of seconds. You knew what you had to do would give Jack more satisfaction than the tight squeeze your hole was giving him- and that was saying a lot as he bit his own lip.  

“Please, Jack. Please, fuck me.” you begged, and you weren’t being granted a second of mercy as he sat up on his elbows and quirked an eyebrow curiously. “I can’t do it; I need you to.”  

A tear slipped from your eye in a wretched attempt at pulling at the string that kept the ball in your stomach together. You bounced like there was nothing left for you when you got from on top of him, and it was almost enough to persuade him. Almost.  

“Ask your husband to fuck you.” he told you, holding your chin and looking right into your teary eyes as you ground against him hopelessly.  

“Please, fuck me, Jack.”  

“Ask the man that gave you his last name to fuck you.”  

“Please, Jack.”  

“Is that what you want, Mrs. Harlow? You want me to be a good husband, right?”  

“Y-Yes.” you pleaded, your hips growing sore and Jack’s hand around your chin finding a different place to squeeze right underneath your chin.  

You looked at him and gripped his wrist that was connected to the hand around your neck. A tear slipped from your eye and down his arm, making him grin.  

“Awe, poor Mrs. Harlow.” he said as you angled yourself forward with a new angle. “I want you to ask me to fuck you like you mean it, angel. This little act-” he tsked as if you weren’t giving your all into an orgasm. “It just isn’t doing it for me. Literally.”  

Although he was lying straight through his teeth, it was almost embarrassing how you tugged at his wrist and leaned forward to capture his lips. It caught Jack off guard to a point where he had to brace your hips and chase away all that you had worked up to keep himself from bursting. You didn’t mind though as you continued to grind against his tip and tug at his hair while pulling away for untraceable pants of air.  

“I want you, Jack. All I want is for you to fuck me. Just this once.” you panted and Jack’s cheeks flushed when you sank back onto “I’m all yours, Jack, I promise. Please, please.”  

Jack didn’t let a moment of silence hang in the air before he thrusted upwards and made you gasp in shock. He had you reaching behind him and scratching at his rough denim in vain with the force and speed that he was filling you. His grunts followed your moans as you leaned back against the wheel and hung on to his forearms that were steadying your hips.  

“Fuck!” you yelped out, your breasts bouncing against his face when he rested his forehead against your collarbones.  

“You have- shit, no clue how bad I’ve got it for you still.” he said, driving into you until your eyes were rolling back and you could hardly process his words over the pure euphoria and skin against skin. “You’re not anyone else’s to touch besides mine, you got that?”  

You couldn’t muster any response besides a lazy nod and hitched breath, which was in no world acceptable to Jack when he nipped at your chest and slapped the skin of your ass hard.  

“You hear me?”  

“Mm, yes.” you nodded, and Jack licked his lips before crashing them against yours.  

“Don’t you ever forget who your husband is. Don’t ever forget your last name is Harlow. Don’t ever forget who’s making you see stars on their dick. The man you married.”  

“I won’t. You’re my husband, Jack, I know.” you whispered in his ear and his hips stuttered at the sweet words.  

It all came to you at once, a black flash and Jack registered it before you could. “Hold it.”  

“I can’t, baby.” you whined, grinding your clit against a prominent vein for a chill up your spine.  

“Hold it, angel. Or I swear-”  

“Please don’t stop, Jack.” you sighed, and he grunted through his attempt to hold back.  

“I won’t.”  

Your actions became lazy as your orgasm approached you, and your arousal was coating the entirety of Jack’s cock. You dropped your head to his forehead and whimpered until he finally lost the pace he’d set. His fingers finding your clit once more bought you back to the tide and your legs shook as your climax wracked through your body moments before Jack shot into you.  

“Holy-”  

“Fuck.” he finished, fucking into you for a moment before finally reeling back.  

Your legs gave out around him and your head fell to his shoulder while he kissed the hot, sticky skin he could find. You wrapped your arm around his neck and rode out the wave of pleasure before he was gripping the bottom of your thighs and kissing you gently to coax your attention.  

“Lift up.”  

“Jack,” you pouted, and he ran a hand through his bed of curls. “I’m so tired.”  

“I know, but you can’t stay like this.” he told you and you huffed as he moved you back to his lap and his heart pattered when you fisted the back of his chain and lifted off of him. “I think I have a clean towel in here. Clean you up real quick.”  

Jack made light work of your tired body and settled you to his passenger seat when he was done with a kiss. “Can I go back home with you?”  

Jack pulled away from the closeness, but he was drawn back by your hand still playing in your hair. It was something he missed, the feeling of your fingers mindlessly twisting around in his curls and brushing the strands back into place before messing with another section. He missed the moments where if you weren’t in each other’s skins, it wasn’t enough.  

“Of course, you can.” he reassured, pecking your swollen lips. “Are you okay, though? Would you feel better going back to your house?”  

“Your house.” you said again, this time a lot softer and Jack nodded, relishing in the feeling of your hand trailing from the back of his neck to his cheek before it found your lap.  

You sat in the white tee shirt that he was wearing and your miniskirt that was around your waist just moments ago. You felt more content with Jack than you did in a long time, in his passenger seat, and his clothes. You felt like you were his again.  

|| 

Upon arriving to Jack’s house, memories flooded you again. The memories of arriving home late at night, where you could barely keep your head on your shoulders. The memories of rushing up to the front door to beat the other to the last of whatever desert that you were both craving. The memories of clothes not making it past the foyer.  

Those were the memories that hit you first as Jack got out to lead you to the door. The memories of how cold the house felt after an argument or how scary it was to be all alone in bed at night and Jack couldn’t be bothered to come home.  

Those were also the kind of memories that Jack kissed away from your mind from beside you, rubbing at your lower back in a limbo between sleep and conscious in the early morning. You could count out all the freckles on his nose and how many times he fluttered his eyelashes to fight the day ahead. You also couldn’t think of the last time you felt so content somewhere.  

You had been awake for no more than hour and turned around to face Jack not long ago. You started off with your head against his chest, but when he twitched one too many times, you resorted to just close enough. You finally couldn’t ignore your body waking up as you took your leg from around Jack’s own.  

“Where are you going?” he asked with his eyes closed, his heavy arm wrapping tighter.  

“To the bathroom.” you answered softly, captured by his pretty blue eyes.  

“Are you hungry?” he asked, licking his chapped lips and stretching out.  

“I could go for something.” you nodded, and Jack mimicked the action before reaching out to rub your thigh that you had to admit was still sore. “I’ll be right back.”  

Jack nodded and tugged his pillow beneath his head before rubbing his face and trying in vain to find sleep. 

In the bathroom, you couldn’t help the butterflies swirling in your stomach and the smile that graced your face. Perhaps, you thought, you and Jack could work it out, that today could be a starting point. All the possibilities of what could become had crossed your mind until you stood up and found a black bra hanging on the back of the door.  

Everything stopped for a moment, and everything that Jack had said the night before raced through your mind as you stared at it. Your heart pounded and your legs shook as water ran across your hands and your cheeks became wet. In a burst of adrenaline, you scoffed and threw open the bathroom door, hating yourself for being in only his shirt and a pair of his boxers, for how pathetic you looked staring back at him as if it was anyone else’s fault but yours for getting the idea that Jack could have possibly changed.  

He was sitting up in bed, his lips floundering for the words to come to him, but you were already snatching your purse and shoes from the side of his bed.  

“Y/N, quit it for a minute!”  

When he made the mistake of touching you, you pushed at him and shook your head. “Don’t even try to give me that shit, Jack. Don’t try to tell me it’s nothing- that you were thinking about me the whole time.”  

“Please let me explain.” he pleaded, picking up your purse that you dropped, but you only continued your fit of rage. “Angel.”  

“I’m not your fucking angel, Jack. I’m not this docile woman that’s going to keep putting up with your shit because you know how to sweet-talk your way out of shit.”  

“I was with her because I was lonely. The papers- they-”  

“And I’m not? Fuck, I wasn’t? I wasn’t lonely when I saw your stories of you out with your friends in different cities? I wasn’t lonely when I was here trying to figure out why I couldn’t have that baby, Jack?” 

“Y/N.” your words panged him, and you knew they did. You refused to back track, though, you had held in your pain and regret for far too long. “Come on, you know how sorry I am about that.”  

“Yeah, sorry enough that you could shower me with gifts and follow me around and scare off another guy that might treat me better? That would actually be a husband, is that it? Fuck you and fuck your ego, Jack. I’m done. Seriously.” you threw your hands up and sniffled before digging into your purse and fishing out a gold wedding band.  

Jack didn’t realize what him until it hit right against his pounding heart and fell to the hardwood of his floor. By the time he looked up, you were already on your way out, and he knew better than to follow you.  

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfiction #fan fiction #jack harlow blurb #bf!jack #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow imagine #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow smut #Ex!Jack #v nervous about this. i hate it sm

[soullessjack]

I can sense my The Boys autism starting up again when Gen V starts this month but every time I sense it starting up I remember I’m gonna have to enjoy this alongside the most media illiterate critically non thinking ironic sigma male audience of all time and i slowly begin to crumble. Anyways here’s this thing to make them start foaming at the mouth:

#cal.txt #listen to me not only am I a superhero fiction The Boys autism haver I am a chronic Alex Calvert autism haver as well . #I will watch everything he’s in no matter how bad it is because he’s my silly guy forever #category 7 autism event #the boys #gen v #gen v trailer #the boys fandom #non binary character #queer rep #london thor #derek luh #the boys fans when it’s literally a show about terrorists taking down an evil capitalist corporation and not a male power fantasy

[jjkeverlast]

feel real | kth

BANNER BY @freyarchive <3 thank you sm my love!!

-> pairing taehyung x fem!reader

-> genre established relationship | smut

-> summary a late nigh stroll with your boyfriend takes an unexpected turn

-> word count 1.5k

-> warnings fingering, choking, doggy, unprotected sex (y'all know the usual drill), public sex 👀 and taehyung's duality :'))

-> author's note wheeew here it is. my bday fic for taehyung. happy bday to our lovely king!!! this is mostly dedicated to my hyung @gimmethatagustd and all my taehyung whores out there. i hope you enjoy the pwp <3333

“You know,” Taehyung clenches your hand, catching every ounce of your attention as you both walk along the river. 

“I’ve been meaning to do something, ever since you stepped out wearing that dress.” His jaw clenched, his eyes trailing down your form and you feel your body grow hot over his subtle action. 

“What exactly?” You’re curious. 

Taehyung doesn’t respond, chuckling lowly before you both reach a secluded bridge, with an unforgettable view of the city at night. 

“Wow.” You’re caught off guard, stopping the both of you as you lean against the railing, looking out and taking the beauty in. 

“Yeah.” Taehyung stands behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his head leans on your shoulder. You feel warm and fuzzy all of a sudden. Small actions by Taehyung never failed to make you act out as if you had just started dating a week ago. 

You both stay quiet, the water beneath you moving in a rhythm as the stars light down on the both of you. 

A small kiss to the collarbone from Taehyung makes you gasp by the sudden action. It’s adorable, but the look on Taehyung’s eyes prove that there’s much more than just cuteness in his act. 

He proves it to be right, moving further towards your neck, the tip of his tongue joining in on the long and languid kisses he’s giving you. 

Somehow the mood changes, it always does whenever Taehyung breaks out of his soft side and astonishes you with his other side. 

You’re thinking he’ll stop, he has to somehow when you’re standing on a bridge, someone being able to walk by at any moment. But then again, Taehyung has something else he wants to show you, or rather give you and it sends a common chill down your spine. 

“Taehyung.” You breathe out, tilting your head further to give him more access. Although your tone doesn’t match with your action. You’re cautious, have always been when it comes to any forms of PDA in public spaces. 

“Mmm.” His nose nuzzles your cheek, his mouth close to your ear. 

“What— what are you doing?” You turn, his eyes already on you as a devilish smirk appears onto his face. 

“What I’ve been meaning to do. Stand still.” You look both ways, noticing it’s completely stranded yet it still isn’t certain that a bridge is a good enough place for whatever Taehyung has up his sleeve. You trust him, so you don’t comment, letting his hands roam on every part of your body that they meet. 

He’s starting slow, his slender and long fingers toying with the details of your dress. You look down, admiring the thin rings that decorate them. 

You don’t think too much about the certain action. Not until he decides to pull your dress up, his fingers sliding in between your legs and grabbing firmly on your inner thigh. 

“Can I?” He speaks calmly behind you. It’s low but enough for you to hear and without thinking further you nod. 

He doesn’t hesitate, moving his hands towards your thong, feeling the fabric on the tip of his fingers. You keep looking down, watching the further his hand disappears from your sight and under your dress. 

Taehyung knows every part of your body. Every inch of you that’s sensitive, soft and delicate. He has a tendency to fully enjoy you, as he lets his hand explore just as much as his eyes when you’re in front of him. 

There’s something special about Taehyung’s hands. The way he carefully uses them when it comes to you and your body, as if you’re a delicate flower. His hands have imprinted themselves in your brain and whenever he acts out with them, your eyes admire every part. 

Two of his fingers drag themselves down, the fabric wrinkling due to the action. You’re already wet. You have been ever since his lips touched your exposed collarbone and up towards your jaw. Taehyung moves your underwear aside, the breeze landing on your exposed heat. The sensation feels new, but it’s soon covered by a common feeling of Taehyung’s fingers playing with your entrance. You softly sigh, Taehyung moving up closer behind you. The leather fabric of his jacket crinkles along with his movements. 

As he’s breathing down your neck, his fingers spread your folds and move up towards your clit. The rhythm starts slow, small circles to begin with paired by his middle finger. Your hands squeeze on the railing in front of you for support, your breathing turning quicker the more he does it. 

He loves to hear you. Hear how much he’s able to please you, simply by his fingers. His fingers that you love so much. But due to the circumstances, you’re trying to stay quiet. 

Taehyung makes sure no one will walk by, keeping himself on a look out. All he wants is for you to feel safe, especially in a risky place. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.” He’s biting down your earlobe, almost as if it’s a reward for you to keep your voice down. 

“Being so quiet for me.” Taehyung goes back to kissing every part of your skin that he’s able to reach. He doesn’t slow down the pace of him toying with your clit, even as your legs slightly shake, reasons being you’re much closer than you think. 

“Tae— fuck.” You exclaim, grabbing his wrist firmly as it continues to move under the fabric. 

Every sensation is building within you, your heart beating rapidly as your mind turns blank. You’re feeling all forms of emotions rushing along with your blood pumping as the familiar knot appears in the pit of your stomach. 

The one thing you’ve always admired about your boyfriend is him being extremely attentive. Watching how your body reacts to certain actions, letting it control him and how his curious eyes pop open whenever you react differently. 

So when Taehyung notices how your body tenses, your breathing quickening and your legs shaking, he grabs your chin with his free hand, kissing you messily as you moan into the kiss and finish all over his fingers. 

Your head leans on Taehyung’s shoulder, relaxing yourself as the orgasm washes itself out. You’re pleased, the smile forming naturally on your face proving just that. 

“That was— nice.” You chuckle as Taehyung playfully nudges you, irritated by your choice of words. 

“I’m not done with you.” 

He pushes himself up against you, acknowledging just how hard you’ve made him and the need for him despite the circumstances grows faster than lighting. 

Taehyung removes his belt, taking an extra look around to make sure someone isn’t near or on their way to approach the both of you in an intimate act. With the coast clear, Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to complete his task, which is fucking you as you admire the view. 

It’s a quickie. You both are settled on that but when the tip of Taehyung’s cock drags itself in between your folds, you’d wish that there would be more time. 

“Keep your eyes on the view.” He demands and you turn, his hands pulling up your dress further, your ass exposed as well. 

“Why?” Your voice chokes up as he slowly enters you, stretching you out in the process. 

“Fuck— want you to enjoy it while I enjoy mine.” Your knees almost buckle, imagining how Taehyung must be looking down at your perked ass, his hands grabbing and touching it, licking his lips over how beautiful your body is. 

“Shit.” He fills you up completely, his hand meeting your throat, clutching it as he starts to move. You lose the ability to say anything, too overwhelmed by the sensation from Taehyung’s cock hitting your g-spot. 

“We gotta be quick, baby. How’s the view?” Taehyung grunts right below your ear. 

“Good— so fucking good.” You aren’t talking about the view, Taehyung definitely knows that. 

You’re both so focused on each other's bodies connecting in the middle, as it makes you both dizzy the longer time runs between you. Taehyung starts to pant, his hold on you tightening on your form, a signal of him already being close. 

If it weren’t for the way you so easily wrap around him, being so warm and wet then he would’ve been able to hold it for a bit longer but you make everything impossible. Especially when you push your ass further into him, the sounds of your skins slapping against each other echoing on the bridge. 

Fuck. It’s so risky yet thrilling for you. Your nerves are kicking at every corner, scared someone might see you in this position yet with the feeling of Taehyung’s cock inside of you, you truly don’t care. 

Your subtle action is the last thing Taehyung needs before he comes undone, painting your walls. 

Normally Taehyung would take care of you right after, but you both are in a hurry. Messily fixing yourselves before moving along, walking away from the bridge as if nothing happened. You notice how the rings have marked themselves on your neck, a memory to remember the unimaginable experience between you and him. 

“Well that was definitely something.” You joke, your boyfriend joining you in as he tickles you from behind. 

There’s no one like him, and there never will be. 

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© jjkeverlast 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.]

#taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #tae smut #kim taehyung bts #bts taehyung fic #bts tae x reader #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #taehyung fic #bts v fic #bts v fanfic #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung x y/n #taehyung #bts fic #bts fan fiction #bts fan fic #bts fanfic

[exsofa]

a bit of dara . from cherry’s A Tale of Crowns

#a tale of crowns #atoc #Dara #general Dara #d #interactive fiction #a very fun read/play ! #love all the characters #love the world and setting v keen for more :) #dead serious this game motivated me enough to do fan art again. it feels good ! #my art

[plantwithoutplot]

Pros of being a writer: You can write whatever fanfic you want

Pros of being an artist: You can draw whatever fanart you want

Cons of being both: Having too many ideas and a dangerously increasing number of ✨ unfinished wips ✨

#Yes this is about animatics again #Again i was abt to write for speak up boys #But spotify hits me with *T H E* angst song i love for luffy #When it knows that I am ALREADY hyperfocusing on animatic ideas for Sabo????? #Please brain stop just work on one thing at a time 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 #speak up boys! #aslinn rambles #one piece #fan fiction #LUFFY ANGST IS V RARE BC UT JUST DESTROYS YOUR HEART OK #Shatters it to utmost pieces and dust #🥲🥲🥲🥲

[shina913]

The Boyfriend Experience | KTH

The Boyfriend Experience: Taehyung

The BFE: Masterlist

Pairing: Escort!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Rating: M🔞

Genre: sex!workAU; exes to something; smut; some fluff; hint of angst

Warnings: legal sex work (in this AU); sex for hire; cussing; explicit sexual conversations; alcohol consumption; dirty talk; Tae and OC have filthy mouths; hair pulling; fingering; clit play; breast play; oral (F-receiving); heavy petting; protected sex; multiple orgasms; stamina!

Word count: 7,023 words

Summary: 💬 If I can hire a massage therapist to help relieve my back pain, a hairdresser to cut my hair, a mechanic to service my car and a handyman to replace a broken door, I should be able to legally hire a man to have sex with me.

A/N: Yes, yes, a couple days later than promised but...life happened! Anyway, I try to make each experience relatively unique but I am one person and sometimes, I find myself drifting towards the same themes. But hopefully each one is unique enough where it would still be entertaining! Thanks to my sis, @internetjunkdrawer for looking this over 😘

Your boyfriend of over two years turned to you one day and said that he didn’t want to be in a long-term relationship any longer. You’d been living together in the last year and things seemed perfect.

But at some point, he claims to have had an epiphany and expressed his desire to travel more, experience new things, and ‘find himself’. It sounded like an awful cliché and you were understandably crushed. What else could you do? You loved him but you were not going to beg him to stay.

He moved out shortly after breaking the news to you. You still followed each other on social media and saw glimpses of his new life–traveling around, drinking champagne on a boat off the coast of some paradise.

He looked so carefree, happy…you were envious of it all. You would also love to leave everything behind and go soul-searching. You would also love to just yell out, ‘fuck it all’ and jet off to some random island and live off the sea.

But other responsibilities were calling your name. As quickly as you’d shred those bills and toss them up carelessly in midair, you’d be waiting to catch each piece of paper before they hit the ground, taping them all together to settle them.

Instead of spending your days doom-scrolling through Taehyung’s exciting new life without you, you just dealt with the breakup in the best way you knew how–throwing yourself into work.

Pretty soon, a year passes. You worked a fast-paced office job and for a while, that worked as a distraction. But at the end of the day, it didn’t do much to get your mind off your loneliness.

You’ve always been a relationship girl and you thought that Taehyung was going to be “the one,” until he wasn’t. At this point in your life, the prospect of casually dating seemed so daunting. You wondered how your peers kept up with it. Just thinking about the logistics was excruciating, but you still wanted to give it a try.

You weren’t itching to jump into a relationship again but you certainly craved some fun and excitement. Although, let’s be real…you craved for sex. You needed hot, sweaty, skin-on-skin contact and that familiar rush of flirting just because.

You thought that it’s been more than enough time since your breakup and you were ready for it!

Well, it turned out that casual dating was nothing short of a disaster.

Some of your prospects seemed more comfortable with being flirty text-buddies but they ghosted you as soon as you pressed them to meet. What the fuck was deal with that?

Some of those who did turn up looked nowhere near close to their profile photo. And then there were just some whom you felt that you had absolutely zero sexual chemistry with.

These apps only caused you distress and the thought of one-night stands were hardly worth the morning-after awkwardness.

Was it too much to ask the universe to have a time period dedicated to you, having the time of your life, followed by receiving a good dicking-down from a man whom you found attractive and was solely focused on pleasuring you at the drop of a hat?

For a while, that seemed like an impossible ask.

Until one day, during a particularly heated bitching session at happy hour, your friend Yuriko, hinted at this ‘very exclusive’ dating service that she just joined. To you, ‘exclusive’ was synonymous to ‘expensive’ and you didn’t want to pay more than what you had put into these other dating apps.

But…after a series of frustrating dates and equally disappointing sexual partners, you prod her about it.

The Boyfriend Experience.

It was an escorting app. You were very skeptical about it but she suggested referring you to the company so you could get in–since it was ‘exclusive’ and all. The price range made you hesitant to jump the gun but she told you that there were no commitments or any other binding contracts with the exception of an NDA. If you weren’t satisfied, you could terminate at any point, and they would give you your money back.

That seemed unusually bold for this type of business to guarantee a refund if you weren’t 100% satisfied.

You were a few drinks in during happy hour and thought, at least there was some assurance that you’d get your money back if your guy turns out to be a terrible lay!

******

Your friend said that you should hear back as to whether the escort service has accepted your referral in about five business days.

But it’s been over a week now and you still haven't received a notification. You thought it was hopeless and decided you’d just get back into the dating pool again.

Later that night, you tucked yourself into bed, vibrator and lube at the ready for yet another exciting Saturday night of solo masturbation. Right before getting into it, you hear a buzz–not from your little toy, but from your phone.

You’d normally ignore it and rather take care of business first but something compelled you to check it.

Welcome to the Boyfriend Experience, YN!

You gasped. Actually gasped. It was like scoring a coveted golden ticket. Except, instead of touring a candy factory, it was…well…a dick factory.

You scrolled through images of escorts they had on their roster. They were all intriguing in their own way. Some photos were professionally taken with the occasional sprinkling of personal selfies–mostly closeups of their abs or gifted crotch areas–trying to prove that they didn’t stuff any rolled socks down their underwear. Some photos included the escort in settings that reflect their personalities–each profile had a list of varied interests and specialties that would fit any client’s needs.

Could you really follow through with this? You’ve considered yourself a bit of a prude. There was that fear of shame that niggled at you from the back of your mind.

Then you thought, men did this all the time! Women also had desires and needs…and currently, that ache between your legs was demanding to be serviced.

Now was the time to push yourself out of your comfort zone, albeit in the wildest way possible!

It was about 9:45PM when you hit send on a message to your chosen escort. He had abs you could grate a slab of granite on. He looked like he had a nice face…if it was actually his. 

While waiting on a response, you fire a text to Yuriko.

[You] 9:50PM: What if these photos weren’t of him? What if it’s fake?

[Yuri] 9:51PM: You can DM them and ask. They’ll send you a photo to confirm 😉

[You] 9:53PM: Girl, what if he’s a murderer?

[Yuri] 9:55PM: Oh, he’s a murderer, alright…a murderer of pussy 💀

“Fucking Christ, Yuri,” you breathed out, laughing.

Forty-five minutes pass and you haven’t heard back. It was a Saturday night–must be busy for him. At this point, you had lost your lady-boner so you decided to just knock out.

******

The next day, you wake up to a response from him. He asked straightforward questions about time, date, and other logistics. He asked if you’d like to take advantage of the half-hour mini-date at the club, which you turned down. You wanted this to be as no-frills as possible.

The exchange felt professional, as if you were booking a spa appointment.

You asked if he could send you a real-time selfie of him holding up a photo of your name. Minutes later, he DM’ed a photo and you exhaled a sigh of relief–it was indeed him.

Looking into how the site vets escorts helped you relax further. He asked you about what kind of fantasies you had in mind, but you told him you’d rather have a drink and get to know each other as ‘normally’ as you could.

Your session was set for next Friday night, he told you what his rate was for two hours. It was a bit steep but…he looked hot and at least Yuri could vouch for their services.

******

You were distracted at work that day with more butterflies than your average Friday feeling. As soon as you got home, you gulped a glass of wine and put on a dress and heels, as if you were going on an actual date. You were a bundle of nerves. A small part of you worried that he’d see you and terminate the date. You read under the terms that they are well within their rights to do that. 

What if he thought you weren’t worth the money you were paying him?

To your surprise, he didn’t run away. He was very punctual and polite. You weren’t sure if those were adjectives you’d ever use to describe an escort but–he was!

Obviously, he was also very attractive. You expressed how nervous you were and he immediately put you at ease. You offered him a glass of wine then casually chatted about your lives, nothing too deep or familiar.

He asked you about your job and how you came to know about the service. It felt very similar to an actual date, except the chemistry felt instantaneous than any other date you’ve been on.

The intimacy happened naturally. It started with a light grazing of your arm, a cheeky touch of your ass while you were putting away some dishes in the sink. There was nothing forced or mechanical about it. It’s as if he mastered the user manual on how to turn you on.

‘Unbelievable’ seemed like such an inadequate way to describe the sex…but it was! It’s like he knew everything your body craved before you did. 

There was a certain level of commitment to your pleasure and your needs that you had never experienced from past lovers before. He didn’t expect you to do anything for him nor did he allow you to try and return the favor.

It was all about you. As he left, you told him his price was selling him seriously short.

******

Admittedly, you felt a little dirty afterwards but only in the way a one-night stand always made you feel, in the back of your mind. You still worried that it was embarrassing. Fear struck you at the thought of anyone you knew finding out even with the NDA in place.

Your need for sex had gone to the extreme except that this was way more satisfying than picking up any random guy at a bar.

By the second time you booked him, you felt braver, more empowered. By your third session, the shame and awkwardness wore off.  You saw the same guy four times in total, on a monthly basis. You have officially made it part of your self-care routine.

Some women liked mani-pedis or getting their hair done while you preferred feeling a man's weight on top of you.

Obviously, you were fully aware that your relationship was strictly business, but it was nice to feel familiar, in a way. You kept in contact and had casual chats while arranging your next meeting.

It felt almost like a special friendship, except that there was no stress over ‘what any of it meant’, or whether he was ‘giving off signs.’ There were none of those complicated mind-games that usually came with casual dating. It was refreshing!

Your fifth booking was certainly a memorable one.

As you were preparing for your monthly meet-up with your usual, he sent you an urgent message saying that he was feeling ill and apologized profusely for not being able to make your date. However, since you’d been such a great client, he didn’t want to leave you hanging so he had spoken to his other colleague to show up in his stead to make it up to you.

[You] 5:20PM: You really don’t have to do that–we can reschedule when you’re better!

[J] 5:25PM: No, this is last minute and I know that we were both looking forward to it! But my friend will take very good care of you, I promise!

[You] : Hmm…I don’t know. Send me his profile?

He forwards you the link after a few minutes.

[J] 5:35PM: I promise you, he’s great! I’ve known him for a while. If you like me, you’ll definitely love him. 

[You] 5:40PM: 😅 How are you so sure?

[J] 5:42PM: Just trust me on this! Don’t I always deliver?

Multiple orgasms during every date? He had certainly met and even exceeded your expectations each and every time.

[You] 5:45PM: You got me there. 😏 I’ll wait to hear from him then. Feel better, baby!

[J] 5:46PM: Thank you, love 😘. He’ll be at your door at 8 tonight!

You scrolled–more like skimmed–through his friend’s profile. The photos were mostly of his body. There weren’t any that included his face, except for one where he was looking away from the camera. You were about to text him when his alert came through, confirming that he’d be arriving at your address in a couple hours and that he was looking forward to meeting you.

It was enough to distract you from the nerves. So, you texted him back saying that the feeling was mutual. Then, you went about your evening, preparing for your mystery date’s arrival.

It certainly added some thrill to it–not knowing who would show up. Since everything had gone so smoothly with your previous date, you thought that this escort service wouldn’t compromise its reputation with a dud. His body seemed good enough for you that his face was the least of your worries.

You get a knock on your door at 8 o’clock, on the dot. Also very punctual, like your usual. You liked him already!

You stop by the mirror at the entranceway, checking your hair and making sure you had nothing between your teeth.

When you open the door, your jaw drops. The next few moments play out like a scene out of a movie.

“YN?!”

“Taehyung?!” You gasped at the sight of your ex-boyfriend. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” Taehyung’s tone was accusatory.

You scoffed. “I live here!”

His eyes widened. “You…" he gulped, "You live here?” He asks in complete disbelief.

The man standing in front of you looks freaked out. He turns his head from side to side, looking around the hallway and at your door, making sure that he has the right apartment number. 

You gasped out loud when realization sets in. A realization that you refuse to believe. Mortified, you ask, “Oh my god…a-are you–”

The look on his face confirms your fears. “Your 8 o’clock? I’m afraid so,” he grins awkwardly. 

“Oh shit,” you choked out.

It turned out that he had been using a fake name. And though you had used your real first name on the site, it was pretty generic enough. You had also moved out of the old apartment that you shared not long after you broke up so he didn’t recognize the address.

Moments later, you both burst out laughing. It was hysterical, really.

“Well, this is awkward,” you croaked.

“Uhm…I could just go?” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You stared at each other in silence. His eyes rake you from bottom to top and you suddenly feel a little self-conscious.

You’d forgotten that you decided that you wanted to look extra hot tonight–a silky slip dress that clung onto every curve and a thigh-high slit.

“Can I at least offer you a drink? For old time’s sake?” You gave him a polite smile and opened the door wider.

He hesitates for a second but only to confirm that you were sure about letting him in. Once you gesture for him to come in, he obliges, and you tell him to make himself at home.

When you go back into the kitchen to retrieve the champagne, you remember something and go into your storage closet.

You balance the bottle of champagne and a banker’s box and set it in front of him while you pop the bottle.

He chuckles when he opens the box. It was filled with some belongings that he left behind when he moved out.

“Oh wow…I thought I had lost these 45’s,” he remarks while he holds up a couple of vintage vinyl records that he purchased when you were together.

“Yep, it’s all there,” you tell him after pouring champagne into glass flutes that you set out.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t thrown these out,” he murmured while he superficially rifled through his things..

You’d hung onto this box for nearly a year. One would say for sentimental reasons but no matter how much it hurt when you broke up, you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away his personal belongings. You’d sooner donate them to the nearest charity consignment store.

You shrug your shoulders at him when you settle on the couch next to him. “I wouldn’t dare throw away classics,” you answer him quietly.

He gave you a rueful smile. “Well, I appreciate it.”

You pick up a champagne flute, hand it to him and clink your glass against his.

“So, Taehyung…what have you been up to?” You ask after taking a sip of champagne.

He laughs heartily, nearly choking on his drink as you follow suit.

You drink in silence for a minute, staring, waiting for the other to speak first.

“Are–”

“How–”

You both break into laughter again. He gestures, signaling that he yields the conversation to you.

“How have you been?” You ask him.

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m…doing pretty good, too.”

“I see that. Nice place,” he remarked after he gave the room a brief once-over.

“Yeah. I got a promotion about a year ago. That’s the only reason I can afford this spot. Otherwise, I would have moved in with Yuri.”

He nods softly. “Yuri…” he repeats your friend’s name. “How is she?”

“She’s fine. She still hates your guts,” you added jokingly. “But…she was actually my ticket to your little operation here.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Oh…well, thanks for the heads up on that. Wouldn’t want to answer her booking.”

You laughed. “She has her usual, I think? So maybe you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Still, though. Would not want to cross paths with her!”

You both take sips of your drinks again.

“Does this mean you’re not seeing anyone currently?” He asks.

You scoffed. “You think I’d be booking escorts if I was seeing anyone?”

His shoulders lifted. “We have clients who are…” he paused to think of the right term. “You could say, attached.”

You were shocked. “Really?”

“Oh, of course. That’s why part of the service is discretion.”

You puckered your lips and squinted one eye at him. “Have you ever gone out with somebody who was married?”

He kept his face neutral. “What do you think?”

You stared at his blank expression for a bit, trying to get a read on him–then your eyes widened. “Kim Tae-hyung!” You gasped.

“I won’t confirm nor deny,” he laughed before downing the rest of his champagne.

“You’re a savage,” you say to him.

He raised his hands innocently. “I never said anything, YN!”

******

You and Taehyung had been so distracted in getting caught up in each other’s lives that you barely noticed that over an hour had passed.

You were attempting to sit up, recovering from laughing so hard from some anecdote that you were bonding over. When he helps you up, the strap of your dress slips off your shoulder.

“Oops!” You giggle, clumsily trying to reach for the strap, which you couldn’t seem to get a grip of.

“Here, let me.” He leaned closer, finger curling around the strap to slide it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a bit. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

His face was too close to yours, it took all of your energy to tear your eyes away from his mouth. They drift to the empty bottle of alcohol instead.

You cleared your throat. “Excuse me while I put this away,” was all you could say before gripping the neck of the bottle for dear life while you walked towards your kitchen.

You bent down to open up the cabinet under the sink, where you kept your recycle bin and dropped the bottle there.

When you turned around, you see that he was standing right behind you.

“I thought that maybe you needed some help?”

You straighten your posture and cock your head slightly. “You thought I needed help putting an empty bottle away?”

“Among other things,” he says with a low voice then suddenly holds up the empty champagne flutes and the appetizer plate that you had laid out. You hadn’t even noticed that he held anything in his hands.

You chuckled and walked towards him, taking the dishes from his hands, making sure that your fingers brushed against his.

“You’re a guest. You should just sit and relax.”

You turned back around towards the sink. While you wash and rinse the glasses, he stands beside you, watching your every move.

You eyed him from your peripheral and poked him on his side to knock him into his senses. “What’s up with you? You act like you’ve never seen me wash dishes before or something.”

“I just didn’t think I’d see you again.“

“To be honest, I thought you’d be off the Mediterranean coast or someplace where it’s warm and sunny all the time.”

He chuckles. “It was fun getting lost at first…then reality set in and I had to come back.”

“You should have just told reality to fuck off.”

That made him double over in laughter. “Wow, YN! I love this new side of you.”

You turned the tap off. “Shut up, don’t patronize me,” you smiled. “Just saying. Things don’t always have to be heavy.”

“You’re right,” he agrees emphatically.

You picked up the clean dish and dried it with a towel. When you were done, you walk to the cabinet closest to him. It was a tight squeeze so you brushed past him. You distantly hear him inhale sharply.

With that reaction, you decide to play a little game with him. The champagne has long-settled into your veins. You stand on your toes to reach up and place the dish back on its shelf. It didn’t really belong there but you knew the effect it would have when you reached up that high and with your hemline being lewdly short.

You see his reflection on the glass, watching your dress hike up, revealing a hint of your ass to him. You linger there for a bit, pretending to push the dish securely in place.

When you were satisfied, you turned back around to finish up with the champagne flutes, brushing past him again. You picked up a glass from the sink to dry it.

“I know what you’re doing,” his voice has a hint of warning.

“What?” You ask with a straight face.

“You’re trying to seduce me,” He states.

“Me? No,” you deny innocently, picking up the second glass to dry it.

“Oh,” his face fell slightly. “I was gonna say, if you were…it’s working.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “And why would I need to seduce you? Isn’t that what I’m paying you to do?”

He laughed huskily. “It is. But I’m always up for a role-switch.”

You stopped and set the glass down on the counter. “And what makes you think that I’d be into that?”

He shrugged. “The thrill of it?”

You said nothing but the look on your face confirmed his suspicions.

“I will say, though—I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

You scoffed. “Guess that cockiness hasn’t gone away since we last saw each other, huh?”

He smirked then leaned in closer. “I seem to remember you liking it…the cockiness.” He put more emphasis on that syllable.

You licked your lips, shifted your weight where you stood and suddenly switched tact. “You know that I was heartbroken when you left me?”

His expression softened and traces of guilt marred his face. “I’m…I’m sorry. I was just feeling…I don’t know…like, I couldn’t give you all of me. And I knew you deserved better.”

You chuckled and folded your arms across your chest. “That sounds like such bullshit.”

He remained serious. “It’s true. You wanted a future, wanted to get married. I just wasn’t in that place and I didn’t know if I would ever get there–at least, not at the point when you needed me to. I didn’t think it was fair to carry on through that.”

You nodded and stood in silence for a minute, staring at the floor. Afterwards, your eyes flicked up at him. “You know, if this conversation happened six or ten months ago, I probably would have smacked you really hard on your face.”

“And I would have gladly accepted that,” he said sincerely. “You deserve someone who is sure of themselves and on the same page as you are.”

He slowly backed away from you and picked up the dried champagne flutes himself to stow them away. After he shuts the cabinet, he turns and leans back against your kitchen counter.

You exhaled sharply. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve changed my perspective recently. I feel like, for the longest time, I was looking for Mr. Right. And I think that was adding to my frustration.”

He watched carefully as you sauntered towards him. “So, I’ve decided, for my sanity…to settle for Mr. Right-Now.” You brought your face up to his. “Are you up for that?”

The corners of his mouth twitch mischievously. “I’m up for whoever you want me to be tonight.”

“Good. Now give me a kiss and make it all better again,” you quietly demand.

He tilted his chin up and bit into his lower lip. “My friend warned me about this…and when I found out it was you, I couldn’t believe it at first.”

You cocked a challenging eyebrow at him. “People change. You should know.”

“I know. And I like it.” He grabs your face between his hands, forcing you to look up into his determined eyes.

Your mouth opens and he takes advantage of your lapse in willpower, thrusting his tongue into your mouth, exploring and lapping every corner. He’s kissing you, almost violently.

Arousal explodes throughout your entire body as you kiss him back, matching his fervor.

You run your hands across his suited back, your fingers delving into his dark, wavy hair. You knotted through the strands and pulled hard. He groans, a low sexy sound in the back of his throat that reverberates through you.

His hand moves down your body and past the hem of your dress, grazing the back of your thigh, until his fingers are digging into the fleshiest part of your ass. Then he moves between your thighs, brushing over your clothed clit very gently. You jerk at the sensation and you let out a cry of pleasure. He slides his finger under the material and slowly circles your burning core. All you could do is helplessly moan into his mouth as he continues his excruciatingly slow, controlled drives with his fingers.

He broke away from your kiss. While you’re in a pleasure daze, he switches your position around to back you against the kitchen counter. He hooked his fingers onto the band of your thong, pulling it down. When you wriggle out of them, he takes you by surprise when he drops to his knees to lift your dress, propping your leg up onto his shoulder.

You are half-conscious about what he was about to do when you stopped him. Due to the nature of these dates, safety was always a priority. Condoms were always a necessity and oral sex was optional–for obvious reasons. 

“W-wait, Taehyung. I thought you didn’t do–”

“I know, we don’t have to, but I want to. I want to please you.” He paces a lingering kiss on your inner thigh and gently suckles on the flesh.

That made your breath hitch. You don’t remember him being this attuned to your needs before. You had great sex then but he didn’t always seem this eager to please you. It certainly brought a different dynamic to the table.

“But if you don’t think–”

“Can I trust you?”

His eyes staring up at you, he confidently answers, “Yes.”

After a brief pause, you lifted your skirt up higher and leaned back. “Continue.”

With your prompting, he wrapped his mouth around your wet heat. You dragged out a deep sigh when he groaned into your core. His tongue relentlessly licked every fold, every crevice. He sucked and teased your clit, making you tug at his hair even tighter.

You felt your left leg start to buckle with your impending orgasm. Just then he replaces his tongue with his thumb and rubs your aching bud. The friction inching you closer and closer as your walls clench at nothing. You sank your teeth deeper into your lower lip making you wince in pleasure.

He slid his ring and middle fingers into you, massaging your tender tissues while his tongue fluttered over your clit. Your mouth went slack and head lolled back in pleasure while your hips rocked against his face.

“Your cunt is so sweet,” he murmurs against your folds. “It’s just as I remember it.” He gripped both your ass cheeks and brought your center closer to his mouth.

What a difference a year made. You don’t remember him being this good with his mouth but you didn’t really care about how he was back then. Right now, his tongue and lips were goading you into an orgasm.

“I just want to spread you out and lick you until you beg for my cock.”

While one hand gripped at his head, your other hand clung onto the edge of the counter. “I can beg now, if you want,” you breathed out, your climax threatening.

“You’re so fucking wet and ready for me. I want to hear you say my name when you cum.”

And just like that, you fell apart with a drawn out, high-pitched moan, mouthing his name incoherently. You were desperately trying to catch your breath, but he didn’t let you. Next thing you knew, he was upright, lifting you off your feet, bringing you both into the bedroom.

After he sets you on the mattress, you shed the rest of your clothing.

You made quick work of undoing his jeans, his cock already visibly straining against his boxers.

The moment he pulls them down, your mouth starts to water. He had such a pretty cock. The memories begin to stir again. 

As if reading your mind, he shakes his head.

“Tonight is all about your pleasure, baby,” He brushes his fingers to your cheek and seals his mouth over yours once more.

He moves lower, placing wet kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone, stopping to suck on each perked nipple.

Before you knew it, he was back down between your legs, sinking his mouth on your cleft–as if he just hadn’t had his fill of you in the kitchen.

“Fuu…uuck,” you choked out as you felt the deep suction from his mouth. Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, back arching as Taehyung pinned your hips to the bed and fluttered his tongue across your folds.

Your vision started to blur as your core tightened with another threat of an orgasm. Your pulse quickened with the steady feel of him humming into your center.

Your thighs quake with another building orgasm threatening to attack you from every direction, and your grip on his hair increases. He gets the message, sucking on your clit harder and more frequently. The strokes of his fingers become firmer as you're bulldozed by pleasure and rocketed skyward. Then your mind goes blank, except for the bliss of release riding through you. 

Holy fucking shit!

He reached down on the floor to where his trousers were to grab some condoms out of his pocket.

When he settles back into the mattress, he’s cradled between your thighs. Not long after, you feel the wet, slippery head of his hardon push in. Your mind is a jumble of thoughts, but then he rests on his elbows and gazes down at you, like you're the only thing that exists in his world. 

You move your hands so your palms are on either side of his face.

“God, I forgot how sexy you sound when you cum,” he says softly as you stare up into his eyes, drowning in them, pleasure and desire flooding between you. You smooth your thumb across his moist lips and slide it into his mouth, withdrawing slowly and resting the tip on his bottom lip. He plants a light kiss on the end and smiles down at you as he lifts his hips while maintaining your eye contact, my pelvis shifting to meet him.

You sigh in pure, unapologetic pleasure as he slowly, unhurriedly and reverently slides deep inside of you. You close your eyes and slip your hands to the back of his head as he fills you completely. He holds still, his cock pulsing inside you. His breathing changes to quick, fast bursts of breath--it was a familiar trait. He was struggling to maintain control.

“Fuck, I’m so hard for you,” he says between pants.

You force your eyes open and gasp a little when you feel him jerk inside you. “I missed this pussy,” he whispers, his voice cracking. You inhale sharply at the words.

“Hmmmfuck, yessss, Taehyung–fuck me harder…”

You know he’s in a lust-filled daze and to be honest, so were you. 

His hips surge at your prompting. Your hands fall away from his head and squeeze at your breasts. He circles his hips into you, drawing a collective moan from both of you.

He withdraws and pushes deep and high. You try to rein in your scattered thoughts, but a deep groan escapes. He places his hands over yours, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. 

Thrust. “Taehyung!”

“So good.” Thrust.

“Fuck!” He pulls back and rams back in.

“Ah!” He stills on a few deep breaths. He withdraws and slowly plunges back in.

“Are you gonna cum for me, Taehyung?” You ask, shifting your hips up to capture the deep penetration.

“Yeah…you want me to?” He pants.

You reached up with a free hand and rested it against his throat. “Fuck, yes. I want you to cum hard for me,” you breathed out.

He lowered his neck against your touch. You didn’t close in on his flesh, even though you were tempted to. “Yes…and I want you to make a mess all over my cock,” he countered. “Want to make you cum again and again.”

He pushes high and grinds firmly, a sweat breaking out across his brow. “Don’t hold out on me, YN.”

His words hit you like a lightning bolt. He’s about to fuck another orgasm out of you. He rams into you repeatedly. Another perfect grind and your internal muscles spasm furiously, tremors inching their way into the center of your nerve endings. Your core stiffens.

“Oh my god…I’m so close…” you cry, throwing your head back.

He hits you with a full, hard strike, and your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of his hips smacking up against your flesh.

You came with a hoarse scream, your breath feels as if it was punched out of you. He stops his movements completely as he goes rigid, his forehead pressed against yours as he growls through his climax.

Your back arches on reflex when the rush reaches its climax and sends you tumbling into the deep pool of pleasure. You cry out again, your body trembling in his hold as the pulsing recedes, slowly and lazily with his continued even strokes, fully emptying himself into you.

Your breaths are rushed and pulses frantic.

The intensity of the last few minutes waning away as he gingerly lifts his head to look down at you. He smiles faintly and slowly withdraws himself, making you wince at the emptiness.

As sanity returns, you open your eyes and turn your head sideways at him. Taehyung is staring up at the ceiling, his expression is soft, tender. You turn to your side, bearing your weight on your elbow, stroking your fingertip on his nose.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

“You can say that again,” you deadpan.

“We’ve never fucked like that before!”

You exchanged looks and suddenly burst out laughing again. You laugh so hard until your elbow gives out and you’re flat on your back on the mattress.

******

You remained sitting on the bed with the sheets pulled up under your armpits while you silently watched Taehyung get dressed. You reach over by your nightstand.

“Hey, before I forget…”

He turns around to see you holding up an envelope. “YN, I can’t accept that–”

“Can’t? How come? It’s the rate that was agreed upon.”

“It’s what you and he agreed on,” Taehyung says, referring to your original escort. “I was just covering for him.”

You sighed, feeling slightly confused. “Look, Taehyung…let’s not make this weird–”

“I’m not making it weird! It’s okay, YN. Really,” he chuckled, waving the money off.

“Right but…service was rendered and I’m a paying customer.”

Taehyung paused while smoothing his shirt, looking offended for a second. “YN, I am not taking your money. Just think of it as a random catch-up fuck.” He turns away from the cash that you held out to him, grabs his pants off the floor and sits at the edge of the bed to put them on.

“If we didn’t have history, would you take it?” You say to him while his back is turned towards you.

He pauses again and you see his shoulders slump over slightly. You scoot closer to the edge of the bed, and sit next to him, still dressed in your bra and panties.

“Look, Taehyung–I didn’t think I’d ever see you again–much less, in this setting. But, business is business, right? I know the night started off awkward but…I hope that we wouldn’t end it on that note.”

He sighed heavily then looked up and returned your gaze, giving you a small smile in return. “I’ll only accept this if you let me take you out for dinner tonight.”

You roll your eyes and chuckle at his acquiescence. “Fine.” You present the money to him again and he takes it this time.

You rise from your bed and walk towards the bathroom to clean up. “I’m still a cheap date, by the way,” you call out past your shoulder.

He laughed again as he stood up to finish buckling his belt. He knew exactly where he'd be taking you.

******

“Mmm…godddd, that hits the spot right there,” you moaned in appreciation.

Taehyung watched you suck the sauce off from your thumb while you savored your taco. La Corneta was a frequent late-night ritual for you and him back when you were together. It’s been ages since you’ve stopped by this taco truck.

You’d almost forgotten how delicious their carnitas tacos were–especially after sex.

“Don’t tease me like that,” he remarked with a warning.

You paused mid-bite. “What? Give me a break, I haven’t been here in a while.”

“Really?” He asks in disbelief. “You always said you loved the tacos here.”

“I know,” You nodded, taking a bite out of a chip with some salsa. “Haven’t been back since we split up.”

His face falters a little from guilt, but he doesn’t make it obvious. “I see,” he says softly, picking up another tortilla chip and holding it to his mouth.

“It’s just that…I usually had a craving for this place after we’ve had a good night of fucking.”

His ears perk up and his eyes lift up at you.

“And I haven’t had that in a while so…” you give him a knowing look before trailing off, taking another bite of your taco.

He shifted in his stool and leaned in. Not that the bistro-style table and chair wasn’t small enough for you to sit closer but he wanted to whisper in your ear. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

After you swallow your last bite, you turn your head to him, and lick the excess sauce off your lips. “I’m just saying…I really love these tacos.” 

He smiled then his eyes drifted to your mouth. He reached out to swipe the corner, then licked the leftover sauce off his finger. “I do, too.”

He walked you back to your apartment and you ended the night with a hug going your separate ways.

When you laid in bed, you stared at your phone screen. There were two icons on your BFE app now–two escorts you’ve ordered. Your finger hovered over Taehyung’s icon. Although the sex was unbelievable, you weren’t sure if you wanted to see him again.

Sure, the app guaranteed some layer of anonymity but this was something that you did not foresee. The beauty of the service was the no-frills, uncomplicated nature of it. And you wanted this to remain your own thrilling secret.

You swiped at the row for Taehyung’s icon and a red button appeared, prompting you to confirm whether you wanted to delete it from your history.

The inner turmoil ate at you but there have been too many hassle-free orgasms for you to stop. With a groan, you push the power button on your phone to lock your screen, effectively canceling any action you were trying to execute.

You place your phone back on the nightstand and sink into your pillow and sheets. When you take a deep breath, you catch his scent still lingering in your bedroom and you feel the faintest flutter in your belly.

Guess you would just count down the days until your next fix. It might even warrant another late-night trip to the taco truck! 

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @deepseavibez @itdoesntmatterwhy @yu-justme

#bts fan fiction #taehyung #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bangtanbathhouse #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts kim taehyung #bts taehyung #bts v #kth smut #TheBFE x kth

[ofthecaravel]

You Don't Go To Parties

A Danny Wagner/Sam Kiszka fic

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Danny hates going to parties with Sam. It's Sam he likes.

Tags: Pining, angsttttt, fluff, the girls are fightingggg

Words: 3.3k

A/N: ...hi. I don't know. Nothing wild, just a little conflict and then conflict resolution. Inspired by 'You Don't Go To Parties' by 5SOS (which you should really listen to while you read it.)

Let me know what you think!

~~~

It was the evening of Sam’s 21st birthday, but Danny already knew he was a cruel drunk. 

He had grown accustomed to a routine. They’d show up at the party together, Sam would stick like him to glue through his first and second drinks, staring up at him with doe eyes and a smile Danny had learned to associate with disappointment.  By his third drink, he was halfway across the house draped over a girl he had never met, most times leaving without telling Danny. But it was worse when he did see him before he left, when they’d make eye contact while Sam was leaving. He’d bring the girl to his lips once before slipping out the door, never peeling his eyes away, leaving Danny clenching his jaw and wondering why in the hell it made him feel so sick. Danny could’ve told him he didn’t want to go to parties anymore, but it was hard to say no to Sam. Sometimes, it was hard for him to say anything at all to Sam. 

Luckily, this party was at Sam’s house, so it was far less likely for him to disappear completely. Danny had been helping set up since the morning because, in typical Kiszka fashion, Sam had waited until the day of his birthday to actually get any party stuff together. But Danny didn’t mind. He liked ferrying Sam around from store to store, listening to him chatter from the passenger seat with his legs on the dash and a cigarette bobbing between his lips while he yelled at passing cars. He liked their bickering back and forth while he hung streamers in all the high places Sam couldn’t reach, with Sam complaining and blowing hot air into balloons all with a grin on his face. 

“You just like putting me to work,” Danny accused after Sam had curled up on the couch with a mountain of balloons on his lap that he claimed kept him from getting up to show Danny exactly where he wanted things. 

“Absolutely I do,” Sam agreed, tossing a slow moving balloon at him. “And you love the work.”

“You’re the real work,” Danny said in faux exasperation.

“Exactly,” Sam affirmed.

Danny rolled his eyes and turned back to the crepe strand in his hands, pretending to be annoyed. But it was true, wasn’t it? 

He had a feeling Sam sort of knew that he loved him in a way that he didn’t like to think about. Maybe he had known from a very early point and decided it didn’t need to be acknowledged, and Danny was more than happy with that. He planned on going the rest of his life without letting Sam in on a few key feelings he harbored towards him. Sam was his best friend. But there were some things that he didn’t need to hear. Danny worked to make his life as easy as possible, and keeping him out of the loop on some aspects of his inner monologue was among the easiest of tasks. 

“This party is going to be the party of all parties,” Sam piped up from behind him, bringing back the lighthearted atmosphere. 

“You’re going to be the drunkest man in Michigan,” Danny laughed. 

“In the United States, more like.”

“In the northern hemisphere.”

“In the world!” Sam argued determinedly. “How dare you doubt me.”

“Whatever, man, but I’m not cleaning up your puke,” Danny teased. “Again.”

“That was one time,” Sam grumbled. “Let it go already, God.”

“Never,” Danny grinned. “And no tattoos!” 

“You’re no fun.”

“How many people did you even invite?”

“Everyone,” Sam replied, a smile in his voice that Danny didn’t need to look to know was there. 

“Lord have mercy on your security deposit.”

“Party of all parties, man,” Sam echoed. “Just you wait.”

By the time the sun had faded and the house had reached full capacity, it really did seem like Sam had invited everyone they knew. Or maybe everyone in the world. It was shoulder to shoulder, a sea of smoke and laughs and liquor heavy breath that Danny couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at. Danny always got a rush being swept up in the chaos that Sam brought to his life, and he had no problem being pleasantly buzzed and chatting up all his friends. However, after a few hours, he was sweaty and a little dizzy and his social battery was starting to drain faster and faster. As he looked out over the crowds, he just wanted his best friend. He thought about how quickly Sam had shot down his idea of getting drunk and hanging out on the roof, just the two of them.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sam had scoffed. “It’s a big birthday. It has to be special.”

Danny had laughed and agreed, even though the idea had seemed pretty special to him. He knew what Sam meant, of course, but he replayed a daydream of what it might be like if they had just laid out under the night sky and a cool breeze and talked until the sun came up as he looked around for him. He managed to track down Jake and Josh, but they were as high as Mars and had no clue where Sam had gone off to. Danny was pretty sure they didn’t have a clue about much of anything as he listened to them squabble and pass a blunt back and forth, so he bid them a polite goodbye and kept searching.

On a whim, Danny wandered upstairs. The guest rooms reserved for Jake and Josh had been firmly locked to prevent any hookups, but Sam’s room was open just a crack. When Danny lightly opened the door, he could see the glow of the lamp on his bedside table and the window open. The light of the lamp lent him some vision in the pitch black of the late night, and he saw a familiar head reclined against the slope of the roof and the smell of cigarette smoke tinting the air. Danny let himself in, navigating the familiar layout of the room easily in the dark. He stuck his head out the window, holding back a sigh at the feel of the cool air against the sweat that had settled on his skin. And there was Sam, laid out against the weathered shingles with his hands behind his head and a cigarette stuck to his bottom lip.

“I thought you said this would be no fun,” Danny said quietly and Sam smiled with his eyes closed, as quiet and somber as Danny had ever seen him. Awake, that is. 

“’s not so bad,” Sam hummed, his foot tapping to an unheard rhythm. “Join me?”

It was a command (it was never a request if it was coming from Sam) so Danny hauled his tall frame through the window in a practiced way that never failed to scrape his knee ever so slightly. He left a foot of space between them, stretching out to be as comfortable as he could be on the scratchy surface. It was the warmest April on record, but the chill of the night air still made his skin prickle. Still, it was far more refreshing than the cramped, steamy environment in the house that thrummed below them.

“How is it in there?” Sam asked after a minute of silence.

“Hot,” Danny answered, flipping through his senses. “Loud. Everybody’s in good spirits. You were right, it’s the party of all parties.”

“Good, good,” Sam murmured agreeably, taking a long pull of his cigarette and sending a big plume of smoke up. Danny watched it to prevent himself from turning to try and read Sam’s expression.

“How long have you been up here?” Danny asked tentatively.

“Mmm,” Sam pondered, his foot tapping a little faster. “45 minutes? Hour?”

“Why?”

Danny heard the fabric of Sam’s jacket scrape noisily against the shingles as he shrugged, and he was just drunk enough to be annoyed at his lack of explanations.

“Are you feeling okay?” Danny pried further and Sam laughed mysteriously through his closed lips, finally lolling his head to the side and opening his eyes. His pupils were big and his lashes were starry and suddenly Danny felt all the alcohol in his veins slam into him all at once. His fingers curled against the air, holding onto nothing.

“You’re my best friend,” Sam breathed.

“You’re high,” Danny replied, deciding it as he said it, watching the frantic way Sam’s eyes leapt over his face. There was no other explanation for it.

“You were right,” Sam continued. “This is special.”

“I don’t know,” Danny laughed weakly, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “This is a mostly one sided conversation.”

“Ask me anything,” Sam slurred, turning fully onto his side, cradling his head against his hands curled under his ear. “Quick, before I wake up.”

“What?”

“Before I’m sober,” Sam giggled. “You know what I mean. I’ll be honest.”

“I thought you were always honest,” Danny retorted. “You pride yourself on it.”

“I’m a liar.”

“Alright, fine,” Danny agreed, his heart racing. “Why aren’t you downstairs?”

“I don’t like parties,” Sam whispered conspiratorially. Danny barked a laugh.

“You love parties! You drag me to one damn near every weekend. You’ve been plotting this one since last year.”

“I love having an excuse to get drunk,” Sam explained, his words still blending. “I love being able to disappear in a crowd. I love making connections with zero risk.”

“You love leaving early to go fuck randoms,” Danny sneered, his lip curling. 

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled breathily. “I especially love never talking to them again.”

“Why?”

“It’s easier.”

“Than what? Actually committing to something?”

“100 times easier,” Sam agreed. 

“I guess,” Danny said, not wanting to linger on the topic of Sam waking up in a different bed every weekend. He thought about it enough already. “If you hate parties so much, then why do you always go?”

“You always say yes when I ask,” Sam answered plainly. Danny squinted at him.

“Sam, I fucking hate going to parties with you.”

There it was. He’d been dying to say it, and he felt the sting of it on his tongue as it left his mouth. And yet, Sam didn’t even flinch, a smile still ghosting his lips, his eyes happy and blank.

“I know,” Sam whispered. 

“I know you know,” Danny snapped. “So, why?”

“Because I like that…” Sam trailed off, flipping onto his stomach to take a final drag of his cigarette and smother it against the windowsill. “I like that we go together.”

“What?”

“I like that you always show up 5 minutes early,” Sam continued, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow digging into the asphalt. “Because you know I’ll be late. I like that you honk the horn and threaten to drive away, but never do. I like that we go halfsies on the music we listen to on the way there, even if it’s only a 10 minute drive.”

Sam paused, his eyes closing and his mouth cracking a dreamy smile. 

“I like that people know that we’re going to be there together so they leave us alone for that first hour,” Sam went on, Danny’s stomach flipping. “I like…I like that there are people around that know I’m a lightweight so they don’t look twice when I’m all up in your business.”

“Sam, stop,” Danny whispered. He felt sick. He didn’t know why.

“I like that you stay, even when I go,” Sam persisted, his voice soft. “I like that you look for me in the crowd when I run away.”

“Stop,” Danny repeated, covering his eyes with his arm, staring up into the weight of his skin against his burning eyes. He felt drunker than he knew he was. “You’re being mean.”

“I’m being honest,” Sam disagreed. “Better late than never.”

“I don’t even know what you’re saying,” Danny laughed, tipping his head back ever so slightly so that any tears that pushed their way out would slip back into his lash line. 

“I’m just saying that parties are better than being alone with you sometimes,” Sam said, and Danny took it like an arrow in the gut. He took his arm off his face and sat up suddenly, glaring at Sam.

“So I’m not your best friend,” Danny spat, hurt. “I’m just your fucking lapdog?”

Sam blinked in surprise. Danny threw the look right back at him.

“What?” Sam slurred, and Danny could’ve strangled him over it. 

“You don’t like hanging out with me?”

“No, that’s not-”

“That’s what it fucking sounds like!”

They had both sobered up in five seconds flat, staring at each other fiercely.

“Just forget it,” Sam said hurriedly, raking his fingers through his hair in an anxious practice Danny had seen since middle school. “I’m drunk. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, say what you mean, Sammy,” Danny hissed, a bubble of suppressed frustration rising to the surface. “Tell me what you really think of me. That you just like having a yes-man to follow you around. That’s what you meant, right?”

Every insecurity Danny had had in their friendship had been unleashed, and Sam sputtered wordlessly as Danny’s face flushed angrily.

“Say it!”

God, Danny hated fucking parties.

“I can’t!” Sam yelled, his voice shrieking in a desperate way that Danny had never heard, and it caught him so off guard he physically recoiled. Sam swallowed and looked out over the tops of the houses, his skin lit up golden in the lamplight and his profile so painfully pretty that Danny wanted to roll right off the roof to avoid looking at it. 

“This is a perfect example of why I have to leave you at parties when I’m drunk,” Sam finally said, his voice oddly thick with emotion as he laughed tunelessly. “I’m bound to say something dumb and ruin everything.”

“So say the dumb thing,” Danny replied. “I’d rather you say it than we pretend like this never happened.”

Sam looked down at the space between them. It felt like miles.

“I’m scared to be alone with you sometimes, that’s all,” Sam murmured.

“Why?” Danny asked for the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. 

“I just…” Sam tried to meet his eye but couldn’t, instead stopping halfway and staring at the fervent thrum of a heartbeat in Danny’s throat. “I just worry that I’m going to start something.”

“Like…a fight?”

“Like a-a something. I don’t know what it would be. But it would be different and scary. And I know you’re scared of it too.”

All the breath rushed out of Danny’s lungs. He couldn’t quite grasp what he was hearing. He was certain he was just interpreting it to be what he wanted to hear.

“Then you know that maybe I…” Danny’s mouth had never felt so dry. “I want it too.”

“I know you do,” Sam said quietly. “I’m not stupid. I wish you’d just say it.”

For a minute, they just listened to the muffled sounds of the party still raging below, frozen in their place.

“I like you, Sam,” Danny croaked, barely audible. “A lot. Is that-”

“Yeah,” Sam cut him off, his lips finally tilting up ever so slightly. “How long?”

“Forever,” Danny breathed, meaning it. The word hung in the air for so long that they could almost see it. Finally, Sam looked up at him, somehow shy. Danny didn’t know he could be shy.

“You?”

“Not forever,” Sam admitted, his pupils still huge, his eyes round and doll-like in the dark. “High school, maybe. I don’t know. I tried not to think about it.”

“Same,” Danny chuckled, the relief rushing through him. It had to be 4 or 5 am now, but he had never been more awake. “I don’t even know what it is sometimes.”

“I don’t blame you,” Sam laughed too, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his cheek against his knee. “I’m a lot.”

“Nah,” Danny whispered, reaching out and playfully punching Sam in the shoulder, even that briefest of contact setting his skin on fire. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Sam gave him another shy smile, and Danny realized that he was quickly becoming addicted to this bashful version of Sam that was revealing itself. 

“Hey,” Danny said, harnessing another rush of adrenaline and scooting closer to Sam, who tensed ever so slightly when Danny’s leg brushed against his shoe. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Sam rolled his eyes with a grin. “You wanna know something weird?”

“I don’t think anything will ever be weirder than the conversation we just had,” Danny pointed out and Sam full on laughed, his smoky breath puffing a cloud in the chilly air. 

“That’s so true,” Sam agreed, his eyes still glittering with uncried tears that had bloomed during Danny’s yelling spell. “But the weird thing is I’ve actually sort of wished for this. I mean, not this exact scenario, but the past couple years on my birthday, when I blow out the candles, I always wish that I’ll finally get the balls to say something to you.”

“Really?” Danny asked quietly and Sam nodded, finding himself relaxing under Danny’s stare for the first time in a really, really long time.

“You’re my best friend,” Sam repeated, echoing his drunken declaration. 

“You’re mine,” Danny agreed, his breath hitching in his throat as he cautiously drifted his face closer to Sam, who nervously glanced at his lips before making eye contact again. 

“Yeah,” Sam breathed, looking down at Danny’s lips again, his heart slamming so fast it stole all his breath. He tilted his chin out and batted his lashes, wishing that one of them would just take the leap. He watched Danny’s eyes dance over him in the careful, needy way that he was so used to.

“Can you promise me one thing?” Danny asked, so close that the warmth of his breath fanned over the high planes of Sam’s cheekbones. 

“Sure,” Sam agreed blindly, a little desperately.

“Don’t invite me to any more parties,” Danny begged, knitting his dark brows. “And don’t go home with anyone else ever again.”

“That’s two things,” Sam teased, reaching a brave hand up and cupping Danny’s cheek. His skin was red hot and Sam’s cool fingertips melted against it, his fingers drifting into the wild curls at Danny’s temple as his thumb swiped over the apple of his cheek.

“Promise me,” Danny whined, his arm snaking over Sam’s waist, his large hand resting gingerly on the sharp bones of Sam’s hip, almost afraid that too much pressure would crush him. 

“I promise,” Sam murmured as the space between them finally closed when Danny leaned over and caught Sam’s lips in a gentle, nervous kiss. It was Sam who applied the pressure, sitting up further and slotting their noses together while he lightly dug his nails into his skin, drinking in the lingering scent of Danny’s cologne and the sharp, weedy sweetness on his tongue. 

Danny, on the other hand, was convinced he was dreaming. Sam’s sleek waves of chestnut hair kept grazing his cheek, his head spinning when he caught a whiff of the pricey coconut shampoo he used and boasted about religiously. His lips were as smooth and soft as Danny had daydreamed about, and when he nipped his bottom lip between his teeth experimentally, he chuckled with satisfaction when Sam let out a muffled yelp and hum. He grasped Sam’s hip firmer and pulled him over onto his lap, moving him as easily as if he were made of paper, but they broke apart with a start when a shingle skidded under Sam’s hand. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this on the roof,” Danny panted and Sam laughed, nodding in agreement but making no move to climb off of him, instead wrapping his arm around Danny’s neck and pushing a stray curl off his face. There was something unspoken between them where they both knew damn well that they’d stay up on the roof until the first rosy rays of dawn started to peek over the skyline.

And as he looked up at the beautiful boy in his lap, Danny had never been so happy to not be at a party.   

~~

A/N: Questions? Comments? Concerns? I'd be happy to keep writing every once in a while if y'all wanted. No smut, though...

Taglist: @s0livagant  @holdingup-fallingsky @t00turnttrauma @the-starcatcher @streamsofstardust @spark-my-nature @joshkiszkashusband

#WE LIKE?? #this is v short but i spent wayyyyy too long on it #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van art #you dont go to parties #karoufiction

[ghostoffuturespast]

WIP Whenever

Thanks for the tag @therealnightcity! 🩷

(Don't be fooled by all the pink... I just did it so the colors would match lol)

I've been plugging away on this for the past two months, but tomorrow's Thursday and I've got the next chapter of So It Goes locked, loaded, and ready to go. But here's a little sneak peek:

A snap behind her, the crunch of boots. V froze, shut her eyes to listen. Close. No cover. Unknown position and number. Too far to advance. Retreat. She rolled over and lightning cracked as she lashed up, thunder erupting fractions of a second later. The opening volley in the air. She missed both of the closest soldiers by a foot. But it was enough for them to break formation, backpedal in surprise. Another slash, down, air singing as she retracted her monowire to keep them from advancing while she lunged. The boots on her feet finally useful instead of dead weight. V rocketed forward, cleared the distance, and aimed for the assault rifle in the first soldier's hands. Arms outstretched, she pinned their fingers, jamming them to the metal and rearing the gun back. She struck with the force of a cannon, recoil tilting the pair of them off balance before a final downward flourish of her hips tackled them to the ground. They fell, down and over, impact jarring bone before slamming into the jungle brush side by side like a doomed pair of lovers. V swiftly carried herself up onto one knee, stolen momentum and stolen trigger lined up in her palm to pop a question of rounds point blank in the soldier’s chest. She turned to her next suitor and shot them down like the last. A bang from her right. And another. The soldiers in front of her tilted to the side, bullet holes and chipped plastic from their helmets sticking out of their heads. Rogue stepped in from afar to scare the third and the fourth off dead. The fifth was second-guessing his chances until the rest of the fraternity arrived out of the brush. Something in the distance whined. “V, get down!”

Tagging with no pressure: @baublekute @dani-the-goblin @shimmer-like-agirl @wanderingaldecaldo @merge-conflict @luvwich @streetkid-named-desire @seeker-of-truth @mynonsenseistingling

As always, your WIP doesn't have to be writing or CP2077 related. Whatever you want to share that you're working on. And you can cash in now or later, there's no expiration date.

Also if you weren't tagged but want to share, tag me! I'll come check out your stuff!

#a merc and a rockerboy walk into arasaka tower... #cyberpunk 2077 #wip whenever #wip wednesday #fic: so it goes #writing #fan fiction #oc: valerie hye jin li #my grandpa v #stinky not fresh #lovers and massacres... what more can you ask for on valentine's day...

[sleepy-wyvern]

"The Love Interest" Ethan Landry x Female!Reader

FINAL CHAPTER OUT NOW!!! Soft!Virgin!Ethan x female!Reader Scream 6 Script Rewrite

“Don’t worry,” Quinn spoke to Ethan “I know how you hate it when you can’t see her. So you can watch every stab I make until she has her last breath.” His face was speckled with blood and eyes thick with concern. Beneath the yellow theatre lights his curls danced over you in the way you loved, you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he really was. Your cardboard knight.

Read over on AO3 or on Wattpad! 💙💙💙

Smutty epilogue in the works too hehe, and more Ethan fics

#ethan landry #scream 6 spoilers #scream vi spoilers #scream 6 #scream vi #scream 6 ethan landry #scream vi ethan landry #ethan landry x female!reader #ethan landry x y/v #ethan landry x reader #fan fic #fan fics #fan fictions

[jedifighterpilot2727]

Somebody That I Used to Know

Just a little fic that that's based on the canon dialogue that occurs between the female Dragonborn (Aria), and Serana after Serana has been cured of vampirism. Takes place after the defeat of Harkon when Serana and the dragonborn are seeing each other for the first time post cure.

It had been two months since Serana had left.

Aria had offered to go with her, but Serana had insisted that the journey was one she needed to make on her own.

In a way, Aria understood - becoming human again was a very personal decision. But on the other hand, she knew how traumatic the experience of becoming a daughter of Coldharbour was. Serana didn't talk about it often - or really at all - but Aria knew enough. Between the many books of Daedric lore that she'd read on her travels, and the vocal nightmares that she'd had to wake Serana up from, there wasn't much she couldn't piece together.

The knowledge had certainly made the task of killing Serana's father Harkon a lot easier. If she were being honest, she had sparred with a few trees the morning of the siege on the castle in hopes that the blade would be a little dull when it cut through his skin. She didn't really know if vampires felt pain the same way that humans did, but it made Aria feel better at least.

A small act of vengeance on behalf of her friend.

And that's why she'd offered to accompany Serana when she went to Falion to ask him about curing her vampirism.

- Not that Serana needed to be cured of vampirism, she'd more than proven herself as a friend and an ally, despite her . . . unconventional diet. It's not like she'd ever tried to feed off of Aria - pretty good restraint for a vampire who'd been locked in a crypt for over a thousand years. Besides, there were plenty of evil people who deserved to lose some of their blood. Hell, Aria had helped kill dozens of bandits and murderers; who was she to care if someone like Serana wanted a little snack first? -

But she'd wanted Serana to know that she wasn't alone anymore. That she had friends - that she had Aria. That it didn't matter if it was killing her undead father or helping her become human again, or living life as vampire if that's what Serana wanted - Aria was here for her. And Aria could be there for her from afar too, that's exactly what she'd done these past two months.

Once Serana had left to find Falion, Aria had returned to Whiterun to check in with the rest of the Companions. It had been too long since she'd seen her shield siblings, and she needed some good old fashioned skull bashing to take her mind off of things. She mostly picked up jobs with Farkas, finding he was the easiest to talk to since she'd been named Harbinger. It made no difference to him what title she held, he treated her just the same as he always did; like a beefy older brother who would tease her and smack her a little too hard on the shoulder but would definitely knock somebody's lights out if they dared to look at her the wrong way.

It was nice to not have to do any hard thinking and just work for a change, and her pockets weren't complaining either. Between the bounties and the loot they's stolen off bandits; Aria had enough money to spring for the expensive corkbulb bolts that she preferred for her crossbow. That's exactly why she and Farkas found themselves trudging through Dayspring canyon, headed for Fort Dawnguard.

"I still don't understand why you can't just use a greatsword." Farkas grumbles. "Eorlund makes those right at Skyforge, and you don't have to keep buying them, just sharpen it every now and then."

"It's a little hard to be sneaky when you're heaving a giant hunk of metal around and grunting like a boar. Haven't you ever noticed that you never really sneak up on any of our enemies?" Aria asks, squinting into the sunlight.

"Don't need to sneak up on people when I can just bash them with my giant hunk of metal." Farkas returns, and Aria can't really argue with him there.

"Well I like slicing through people just as much as you, but occasionally the situation calls for a little more finesse. Or at least distance." She crinkles her nose. "Weren't you glad for my crossbow when we had to take down that troll that smelled all the way from here to Riften?"

Farkas belly laughs.

"I'll give you that, even with your crossbow, Aela complained about us smelling bad for a week! Guess she forgets she smells like a wet dog."

"Funny how you can really smell it when you're no longer a werewolf, huh?"

"I'll say, no wonder I was getting funny looks around town for so many years."

"To be fair, you still don't smell great." Aria teases, and Farkas gives her a playful shove that's still strong enough to send her stumbling up the last of the steps to the fort.

"Watch it, shield sister."

They're both laughing as they make their way into the Fort, Farkas having been her a handful of times so that Aria could restock or so they could pick up intel on the remaining vampire covens.

Isran has really made progress with the place since the the last time they stopped by, everything's not quite as dusty and Aria doesn't feel the constant urge to sneeze like she usually does.

Sorine's workshop is somehow even more cluttered than normal, Dwemer scraps laying about in haphazard piles. Really, it was a wonder that Sorine got any work done at all.

Of course, Aria only exacerbates the problem, trading a few Dwemer trinkets she'd picked up along with some coin to refill her stockpile of crossbow bolts. She and Farkas chat with Sorine for a while - Sorine somehow roping them into checking out a Dwemer ruin halfway across Skyrim for some weapon schematics. When they finally say their goodbyes, Aria decides to have a look around the rest of the fort, see what else is new besides the lack of cobwebs. Only, she finds something, or someone, she isn't quite expecting.

Right there in the rotunda, sitting in the beams of the noon day sun without so much as a hat on, is Serana.

The sight stops Aria so abruptly that Farkas slams into her back.

"You alright?" Farkas asks, his hands reaching out to her shoulders to catch her before she hits the ground.

The commotion has drawn Serana's attention, and Aria meets her eyes across the room.

Serana's eyes no longer have their vampiristic glowy quality, but Aria still finds herself completely mesmerized.

"You alright?" Farkas repeats, and Aria tears her gaze away from Serana to look at him.

"Yeah, yeah." She pats his hand thats still on her shoulder in reassurance. "Just, uh wait here for a minute, okay?"

"I will remain on guard here." Farkas gives a mock salute, and Aria finds herself grateful once again at his ability to overlook things that most people would ask questions about.

Her eyes once again find Serana's as she makes her way to the bench along the wall where the other woman is sitting. She resists the urge to check her armor for grease and blood. - it's Serana - she reminds herself, she's seen you in way worse shape than this.

Still, one hand tugs on her sword belt to center it, and the other adjusts her helmet where the collision with Farkas had set it tilted. It was her old Imperial officer's helmet; Arias much preferred the hard hat's protection to that of a hood, unless she was trying to sneak around; plus, it usually got her brownie points with the local guards.

If Serana notices her preening, she doesn't mention it, though her lips do curl up in a smirk.

"There you are. I'm - I'm back."

Aria's heart stills and then takes off at a gallop when Serana speaks, and she hopes she isn't imagining the grateful sigh she hears in Serana's voice.

"I was wondering when I would see you again."

Wondering? More like you've spent every waking moment for the past two months trying not to wonder when you'd see her again.

"Here I am." Serana shrugs. "Human as ever."

"And you're good? Everything is good?"

Mouth insert foot. Aria shakes her head.

"The world is alive and so am I."

"That's good." Aria cringes inwardly. "I'm glad. I uh, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

They stare at each other for a long moment, and Aria wracks her brain for something - anything - to say. She'd spent over a year fighting by this woman's side, battling the living and unliving alike, and she can't think of a damn thing to say. All the hours spent in conversation about everything from the fate of the world to how the smell of flowers hadn't changed in the thousand years Serana had been underground.

All that and she has nothing.

"I should - uh - I should get going, I guess. Farkas is waiting."

"Ahh," Serana jerks her chin over Aria's shoulder at the man mentioned. "Is he the thug?"

"He's not a -" Aria begins heatedly, but she follows Serana's gaze to where Farkas is standing in the middle of the doorway with his arms crossed looking like - well, a thug. "He's a good friend." is what she settles for in the end.

A look she can't quite place flickers over Serana's face, but then it's gone.

"Right. Well, I'll let you get back to your friend then."

The words feel like a dismissal, and they hit Aria like a punch to the chest; a wave of emotion thats crests over her, leaving her floating and listless in the aftermath. Tears spring unbidden to her eyes, and she turns her head before Serana can see them.

"Right. I'll see you around." Aria spins on her heel and crosses the large room back to where Farkas is waiting, brushing past him without speaking.

"Who was that?" his voice timbers out gently behind her, and she thanks the nine that she's at least she's managed to teach him to not always speak in a bellow.

"She's just - " Aria's voice cracks and the unshed tears blur her vision.

She doesn't know what she expected to happen when she saw Serana again, but it certainly wasn't that. That felt like a conversation with someone she barely knew - definitely not with someone she'd spend the better part of a year calling her best friend.

Serana's moved from the bench in the rotunda to a chair in the hall, and they've passed by no less than three times.

Damn Fort Dawnguard and its maze like layout.

"You ok?" Farkas asks, and she can hear the worry in his tone.

"Just, just get us out of this stupid place, would you? I swear the damn entrance keeps moving."

If Farkas has anything to say about that, he keeps it to himself; but he does take over the lead and Aria tucks in behind him, using him as a shield to block her from Serana's line of sight.

Once they've made it back outside, she swipes at her eyes, and Farkas gives her a studying look before tossing an arm around her shoulder and dragging her down the path that will lead them back to Jorrvaskr.

"You know I love you like a sister, but if you want to talk about whatever happened back there, you should probably wait and talk to Vilkas."

It's Arias turn to laugh, and she feels at least a little better.

It only lasts a moment though until she sees Serana once again in her mind's eye, and the weight of fallen hopes settles like lead in her stomach.

If only she could figure out what she'd been hoping for.

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #female dragonborn #serana #tes v skyrim #original characters #fan fiction

[workwaffle]

Ladies and gents, I'm happy to announce chapter 6 is up of Drones of Steel, Cores of Sinew; plenty of introductions and conversations. Please do enjoy.

In secondary news, my profile is fixed!

I'm no longer marked as explicit, and have updated my profile picture to something not so conical!

#murder drones #md fanfic #tessa james elliot #serial designation v #murder drones uzi #The elliots #clara oswald #the doctor #11th doctor #doctor who fan fiction