Tumgik
#is a day long campus interview
boomerang109 · 11 months
Text
what if capitalism is making the one job i thought was possible for me feel unattainable not because i haven’t literally been doing it since age 13 but because it’s not well paid enough so until you get into a higher position you have to work multiple jobs and i knew that i always knew that but. fuck. why is adulting going to be so exhausting. what if this really is the best time of my life? being a depressed college student? what if it’s downhill from here?
#I love my quiet getting high nights cause they let me unlock my thoughts#i HATE my quiet getting high nights cause they let me unlock my thoughts#like bestie I was just watching critical role why did I pause it to write this down#anyway in other news I have a ten hour tech day and I’m ✨scared✨#technically it’s nine and a half though because they moved the call by a whole half hour#and honestly I’m going to get breakfast for meal swipes so I might end up being late cause breakfast doesn’t open until 10#but like fuck if I’m gonna try to make food here#I want to pack my bag tonight but also I just laid down after doing dishes and I’m exhausted#I’ve had such a long day too I had two normal classes (one of which I basically led the class. I interviewed two professionals in front of#the whole class. FUCK I probably need to send them a thank you email. that’s gonna be a tmrw issue or I might draft hifh but like not sendin#but anyway after that I had one hour for lunch and then three hour lab which was fun!! because we went ride pooling but like we walked a#shit ton and in the sun#oh and my roommates must’ve forgotten I come with today cause they left me behind (which is totally fine cause I didn’t get up but it did#mean I had to catch the on campus transport and that takes forever and so I was late to meet my friend for breakfast and dining hall was#closed so I had to get food elsewhere which literally cost the same as the dining hall in the morning which is dumb but it took waaay longer#anyway hifh boom takes tumblr diary entries too seriously idk why I channeled my whole life into this post lmao#i think it’s cause I’m self-isolating HARD (despite being fairly social at the moment? it’s a surprisingly cool balancing act im pulling off#quite well as a busy bee) so I felt the need to pretend to have human connection without actually breaking my self-imposed isolation lmao#boom blogs high
4 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 11 months
Text
Kinktober Day 20- Roommate!Miguel x Reader
*Requested by Reader ;) *
        It was your third year of college and you had decided to get one of the dorm houses right next to the college. Finally! No more small apartment in a large dorm hall; no more random fire alarms because someone didn't know how long to cook popcorn; no more being locked out of your dorm room because you were in a shared bathroom; and finally, no more loud and obnoxious roommates. Having this house meant that you picked your roommate. You had your freedom.
        What better than a roommate who is going to have their heads stuck in the books or at the library? You interviewed so many people, but only one caught your attention as the perfect roommate. 
Miguel O'Hara
         The man was not only eye candy, but one of the smartest students on campus. Correction, he was the smartest student. You were surprised when he was in the hunt for a roommate. The two of you got along and you decided to go with him. All you ever heard about him was either girls wanting to fuck him, or that he was a hardass who kept his head in the books. A perfect roommate.
         Things were going smoothly for the first few months. You barely saw him due to your conflicting schedules, but he kept his part of the house clean. There was never any loud noise from his room, nor was there any reason to complain. The only little issue you were having was that he was too fucking sexy.
        Lord did the impure thoughts start when you saw him exit the shower one day. You swore drool was coming out of your mouth as you stared at him. You would have never thought that Miguel was so fit. No wonder why all the girls on campus wanted to date him. The man had a body of a god!
"Perhaps I should charge a fee," Miguel said, waking you from your trance. Your face was flustered,
"Sorry! I was just surprised!" You admitted, hiding your embarrassment. 
"Surprised it took you long enough to know why I like to hide here instead of the library?" You could have sworn you saw a smirk on his face, "Midterms are coming up. Let me know if you need help...studying."
        Oh man, you were embarrassed. Since then, Miguel had gotten a little more snarky with you. In a playful manner. Honestly, it felt like he was pulling st your heart strings. The man was smart, hot and a menace to your thoughts. You were ashamed to say that you had thought about your roommate a lot at night as you played with yourself.
        You weren't the only one. Miguel was pumping his dick in his hand every night to the thought of you under him. You were pretty dangerous to be around. Walking around in your underwear and a shirt; laying on the couch; hell, Miguel was even aroused by you cooking dinner. In his eyes, you were already his. He just hadn't sealed the deal yet.
"Argh, I hate men!" You cried out, planting your face onto the couch. Miguel was sitting on the side chair,
"Including me?" He asked, not straying away from his essay. You huffed, face him,
"No..."
"Good, now who do I have to beat up for annoying my precious roommate?"
"Hahaaa, just one of my classmates. We were doing a project and he had the gall to tell me I had no idea what I'm doing. I fucking major in the subject!"
       As you were venting, Miguel was staring at you. He found it cute how red your cheeks got when you were angry. How tight your clothes were against your body. Miguel wanted to see you strip. To get lazy and comfy. It was something only for his eyes to see. He moved his laptop over his bulge, wanting to hide the fact that he was getting turned on from just staring at you.
"And then he had the absolute nerve after all that to ask me out! Like, why would I want to date a rude snob like him?! After I said hell no, he called me a bitch and went to shit talk me to his friends!" You whimpered, tears threatening to spill. 
        Miguel immediately went to your aid. He brought you a box of tissues, sitting beside you now. You rested your head against his shoulder, trying your best to not cry.
"I can beat him up for you, amor. (love). You can do so much better."
"Haha, thanks Miguel."
---------------
          After that, you went back to your hard studies since Finals were around the corner. That boy who had bothered you prior stopped bothering you completely. In fact, he avoided you. It was strange, but you were happy about it. All you needed was to pass your classes. Miguel helped you study for midterms, perhaps he was willing to help you again for finals?
        You were sitting in your shared living room, waiting for Miguel's class to get out. You were getting frustrated from trying to figure out stuff from another class. Glancing at the time, you inhaled deeply. There was still plenty of time before Miguel came home, you could use a little destress. Laying against the couch, you spread your legs and began to rub your clit was massaging you breast.
"Mhm, Miguel," You closed your eyes, imaging that it was Miguel toying with your body.
        Raising your hips, you started to feverishly rub your clit. Whines coming out as you desperately wanted Miguel to touch you. You lowered your fingers to your aching hole, doing your best to finger yourself.
"Miguel!" You whined.
"Fuck," Miguel groaned as he walked through the door. You gasped loudly, fixing yourself, 
"M-Miguel!? Y-Your c-class-?!" You panicked. Miguel hurried to your side,
"Don't you fucking stop now." He groaned, his hands making haste into your shorts, "Fuck, hearing your moans when I walk in. Cómo puedo contenerme? (How can I hold myself back?)"
       You gasped as Miguel had you pinned to the couch. His hands quickly replaced yours and he entered two digits into your wet cunt. You moaned, arching your back into the couch as he pumped his fingers roughly. Your pussy clentching down against his hand whike your hips moved against his palm. His fingers were so thick, bigger than some of your toys. He was already stretching you out.
"Hah, ah, M-Miguel..." You whimpered a moan as he curled his fingers. Miguel licked his lips,
"Qué hermoso. Tu cuerpo se está desmoronando por mi culpa. (How beautiful. Your body just falling apart because of me.)" You trembled as you reached your first orgasm, "What a naughty roommate. Teasing me so much."
        You panted heavily, never experience an orgasm like that before. You followed Miguel's gaze, watching him undo his pants as he licked his fingers. His pupils almost looked blown once he had a taste of you. It made you wetter. Finally, all of those wet dreams you've had of fucking your roommate was about to come true. Miguel cussed lowly as his belt got in the way.
"I never seen you this stressed," You teased, helping him undo his pants, "How long have you been wanting this?"
"Why do you think I became your roommate?" Miguel watched your reaction towards his large dick, "You?"
"Before midterms,"
        You stroked his dick with both hands. His low rumbling groans were turning you on more. You brought your lips to his tip, licking the precum that had started to drip. You winced at the salty taste but continued to suck him. Miguel's hand rested on your head as you bobbed your head against him. It was difficult and you could not take him fully, but Miguel seemed to enjoy it. Tears formed from the corner of your eyes as Miguel forced your head lower.
        Muffling against his dick, Miguel stopped, allowing you to breathe. You crawled over his lap, positioning his dick over your soaked hole. Miguel held your hips and placed you on your back before entering. The two of you moaned in unison. Miguel held your legs up as he stretched you out. Miguel was destroying your pussy and he hadn't even moved yet. You gripped the couch's blanket, raising your hips as he kept pushing himself inside.
"Looks like you need help with your finals," Miguel groaned, watching your pussy suck his dick as he finally fit his whole length, "Let me start by teaching this naughty pussy a lesson."
"Mhm, p-please," You begged. Miguel pulled back then slapped his length into you with force, "Ah~!" You cried out.
"Qué compañera de cuarto más cachonda. ¿A punto de romperse después de un solo empujón de mi polla? Tu coño fue hecho solo para mí. Mira lo mojada que estás, sólo para mí. (What a slutty roommate. About to break after just one thrust of my dick? Your pussy was made just for me. Look at how wet you are, just for me.)"
"M-Miguel!" 
        You gasped for air as he fucked your brains out. Each thrust was bringing your orgasm closer and closer. Miguel grabbed your breasts, playing with them as he sucked on your collarbone. His dick pounding you relentlessly. He had his body pinned against you like an animal in heat, refusing to let you go. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into his ear as you reached another orgasm. Miguel shivered in delight and decided to reward you. He slammed his cock a few more times, filling your womb with his cum.
"Looks like you're going to need a lot more lessons, cariño (sweetheart). But don't worry, I won't charge my dear roommate."
"Y-You better not." You huffed. Miguel smirked as he gave you another slap of his dick, "W-Wait~ Mhm, d-don't...d-do that." Your whines turned into moans as Miguel kept abusing your poor cunt.
"After waiting this long, you really don't think I'm not going to fuck you dumb? Gotta make sure I keep tutoring you."
"Hah, hah, y-yes," You replied, throwing your head back in pleasure.
        You did not care how many times you needed to ask Miguel for help. You knew that he would tutor you seriously. It was your payment that you really looked forward too. Anytime either of you were stressed, you two had some of the best sex. When it was time to renew your lease for the house, both you and Miguel did not hesitate to agree. Miguel was the perfect roommate. Perfect boyfriend. You were not letting go of him, and neither was he of you.
2K notes · View notes
ckret2 · 7 months
Text
Chapter 40 of human Bill Cipher, in spite of his fondest hopes, still being stuck in the Mystery Shack:
As much as Gideon wants out of the evil magic game, the survival of his father's used car dealership rides on Gideon's help.
And, relatedly, Bill's started receiving psychic car commercials.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1981
Ford had been in his study for what felt like forever, staring at the pile of papers and numbers on his desk, trying to stop the figures from shifting and swimming before his eyes; when something from behind him lit up the dim room with golden light and he a heard a familiar voice behind his shoulder—
"Heeey, Stanford! You've been having a lot of dreams about tax forms lately, what gives?"
Ford was startled out of his thoughts. He turned around, smiling in relief. "Oh, Bill! Hello." Apparently he was dreaming. Thank goodness. It explained why he couldn't seem to get these forms to make sense. "How long have you been watching me?"
"About twenty years."
"What?"
"About twenty minutes," Bill said. "I wasn't going to bug you tonight, but usually your dreams are a little more adventurous! You're starting to worry me, kid." He disintegrated the tax forms with a gesture and floated down to sit on Ford's desk, like a razor-thin glowing paperweight. It was strange to see him cross his legs. "What's on your subconscious?"
Ford hadn't thought his Muse cared that much about his day-to-day human troubles. It was comforting to know someone was worrying about him—someone so far beyond human potential that maybe Ford didn't have to worry he'd be disappointed to learn Ford was struggling a little. "It's my grant money," he sighed. "I feel like my research into Gravity Falls is nowhere near completion, but that money will only last for so long. It won't be long before I'll need to ask for more funding, and I'll have a hard time convincing anyone if I don't have anything to show for it, but I don't want to share incomplete research..."
"Ah, money. The second-worst curse human society's ever inflicted on itself."
"What's the worst one?"
"Marriage."
Ford barked a laugh. It wasn't even that funny a joke; it was just such unexpectedly human cynicism for such an otherworldly entity. It sounded like a joke Ford's dad would make.
"Well, money. What to do..." Bill drummed his fingers on Ford's desk, gazing off into the distance as he thought. Ford realized that, at some point while he was distracted, most of his study had vanished, leaving his desk and chair sitting precariously atop a faint gridded plane in the starry blue void where he usually met Bill. Finally, Bill said, "Have you considered buying gold?"
He hadn't. "Will it help?"
"Sure it will! Eventually!"
"In time to help pay my mortgage?"
"Hmm." Bill thought a moment longer, then snapped his fingers. "Got an idea." He floated off of Ford's desk to eye level, strange sigils appearing in white-blue light around him. "Do you happen to know where the people who decide your funding live?"
"Er... the general area." It had to be near the Backupsmore campus, didn't it?
"Then I might be able to help you!" The symbols solidified around Bill. "I know a little spell to help persuade people. It'll let you plant ideas in their dreams—give 'em a little subliminal nudge. It could make some bigwigs come around on the importance of the research you're doing out here."
A fascinating concept. Ford studied the sigils greedily. He didn't recognize them, but they looked fairly simple. "You're not... talking about mind control?"
"Nah, that's not in my wheelhouse. It'll just let you... talk to them! Like I talk to you! I'm not controlling you, am I?" His eye curved up in a facsimile of a smile. "But you'll find most people have a harder time ignoring you when you're talking to them inside their own heads. What they do with that when they wake up is up to them. Just think of it as a way to schedule an interview where you'll have their undivided attention."
Ford pressed his lips together as he thought; then shook his head. "Thank you, Bill, but no. I wouldn't feel right earning money that way. I'd rather know they were impressed by the scientific and historical value of my work—and if I use magic, I'll never know for sure if they really thought my work measured up."
Bill laughed. "That's what I like about you, Stanford! You really shoot for the stars—and you've got the work ethic to get there! You don't want the fame and fortune unless you earn it!"
Ford was momentarily taken aback. It was rare that his muse openly complimented him; on most nights he dealt with Ford with a sort of cool, detached fondness, something a little too distant to be real affection. When he did voice his approval, it was like the sun coming out after a month of cloud cover. There were nights, when Ford was really feeling his isolation in these woods and he'd half convinced himself all his years of research had been a waste of time, when he was half willing to chase that sunshine to the ends of the earth.
"You'll do whatever it takes to finish your research, won't you?" Bill asked.
Ford gave Bill an awkward, self-conscious smile. "Of course I will. How could I not?"
"Hey, not everyone has your ambition! Most people take the easy way to the top. Cheating, copying, riding on greater men's coattails... Some guys earn the dough to buy their gold, others just want to dig for someone else's." Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Well, it was an idea." The sigils started to fade.
Ford raised a hand. "Hold on. I don't want to use it, but... do you think I could learn that spell anyway?" He smiled hopefully. "For research?"
"For fun?"
"For fun."
Bill laughed. "I was waiting for you to ask!" The sigils reappeared, and next to them appeared an incantation. "All right, I'll walk you through it. Pay attention, I don't think you've got enough time to go over it twice this REM cycle."
Ford nodded, focusing fully on Bill, determined to remember the spell well enough to record it in Journal 2 when he woke up.
####
Spring, 2013
Tentatively, Bud Gleeful said, "Son... now, I know you lost that spooky grimoire of yours. But... don't you have anything left that might help out the dealership?"
Gideon growled in irritation. "I told you, father! Everything I knew was in Journal 2! It's gone! Anyway, I'm just trying to be a normal kid now. I don't want to get mixed up in any more magic. I'm through with it."
"I understand," Bud said, nodding. "And I think that's mighty admirable of you, turning over a new leaf like that. Shows real maturity." He hesitated, wringing his hands together. He pre-emptively winced and said, "But it's just that... business hasn't exactly been booming, ever since your little tenure as Bill's sheriff. And you know I love the fellas you made friends with in the penitentiary, they're all such... colorful characters; but having them hang around does make folks a little wary to drive into the parking lot..."
Volume doubling, Gideon snapped, "Are you saying it's my fault?!"
"No, son, no. You know I'd never." Bud knelt down, and—cautiously, like he was trying to pet a feral cat—put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. "But, well... business is slumping, that's all. We'll be fine as long as we live within our means, don't you worry about that—but our means might not cover luxuries like those fancy suits and fine new boots you like so much, you understand."
Gideon lowered his gaze, tugging self-consciously on the sleeve of his favorite suit jacket. It was already just a little too short to be fashionable; he probably didn't have long until he outgrew it completely.
"Your mother and I are doing all we can," Bud said. "If there's anything you can do... well, you don't have to, of course. But—it'd be a mighty big help."
Gideon grit his teeth, glaring at his feet. (How long until he outgrew all his shoes? He had a growth spurt coming "any day now," he'd been told. The prospect didn't excite him.) He balled his hands into fists; and then muttered, "There... might be one spell I remember... the sigils were pretty simple..."
####
June 2013
Bill could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for his mother to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'd see the dark, she'd see the far points of light—
"STOP!" His mother howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room. She didn't bend up. He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured. He didn't know what to do.
And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, and he couldn't remember.
At least, he couldn't have remembered a few weeks ago. He hadn't wanted to. But he'd been studying a book on lucid dreaming since then; and the first things it taught was how to remember more of his dreams. And now, he recalled exactly what happened next when he pushed his mother and she splintered and ruptured:
He pushed harder.
Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 
"You want me to tell everyone the third dimension's full of dead shapes?! Huh?!" All he could see was blood and bone and peeling skin. "Then why don't you go find them for me!" He let out an angry, hysterical, broken laugh.
Her hand grabbed weakly at his.
He let go and jolted back, gasping—and almost retched. What had he done? He hadn't meant to. But he'd kept pushing—but it was too late by then. It was too late by then, wasn't it?
"What have you done?"
Bill whirled around to face— "Dad?"
The green trapezoid looked as sick as Bill felt, eye darting in horror across the crumpled line in the corner. He couldn't even see most of it from where he was—his eye didn't work like Bill's, he couldn't look through the mess of skin to the gore beneath.
"It was an accident," Bill whispered. (He'd kept pushing.) "It really was, I promise."
His father tore his eye from the corpse to Bill's face. "What are we going to tell your followers?"
Bill looked past his father. Through a wall so thin Bill almost couldn't see it, hundreds upon hundreds of shapes were settled, waiting—to see him. He was sure: somehow, somehow, they could see him too. They knew what he'd done. His life was over.
A thunderous voice boomed, "Whooee, what a fix! Boy, you look like you could use a getaway car, couldn't you?"
Bill blinked. He blinked again. He looked up-but-not-north.
A human in a pink Hawaiian shirt, standing on top of the universe, looked down at him.
Bill said, "What."
"Here, let me just—getcha right—" The human plunged his hand through the second dimension, scooped beneath Bill, and popped him right up off the surface of the universe. "Now, if you'll pardon my saying so, you look like you could use a little help getting somewhere far, far away from here!"
Bill stared at him. "What."
"And I've got just the thing to help you!" the human declared. "Aren't you feeling stuck? Trapped? Just can't take your obligations anymore? Miserable you can't hit the road and see all of—well—" he gestured vaguely out at the flat surface of the universe stretching into the distance "—whatever this is? Then you need to visit your buddy Bud Gleeful—(that's me)—at Gleeful's Auto Sales, the finest used car dealership in Roadkill County! We'll get you a set of wheels that'll carry you on the cross-country police-evading tour of your dreams!" He dropped his voice and murmured to Bill from behind his hand, "Warranty expires at the state line."
"What." Bill looked down at the universe—and was disappointed but not surprised to see he wasn't a triangle anymore, but a human. He looked at Bud again. "Are you advertising to me. Is this an advertisement. Am I getting advertised to in my sleep."
"And if you sign before you leave, we'll throw in a free air freshener," Bud added.
Bill stared at him in horrified amazement. "I am going to kill you," he said. "And then I'm going to wake up and kill you in real life."
"Ah, well. That's a right shame."
####
Bill shot straight up with a roar of rage. "Oh, when I get my hands on...!"
"Whoa. Bad dream?"
Bill whirled around with a murderous glare. Dipper's spirit, ghastly and pale, was hovering in the middle of the attic. Bill snapped, "You're a bad dream!" He scrambled after the spirit.
"Whoa! Hey!" Dipper tried to swoop away from Bill toward the stairs.
Bill caught him by the back of the neck. "You are going back in your bo—bed, you're getting in, and you're not getting back out."
"Ow, let go!" Dipper squirmed in Bill's grip, kicking his feet in the air. "I was just going to turn off the TV! I heard it playing an advertisement, I think that's what put me in... you know." He gestured at himself. "The sleepwalking dream."
Bill hesitated in front of the kids' door. "What advertisement?"
"I don't know, it was too far away to tell. But I know it was an advertisement, it sounded... advertise-y."
"Hmm." Bill considered that. And then he flung Dipper's soul through the door.
"HEY!"
"I'll turn off the TV," Bill said. "Go back to sleep!"
Ugh. Everything ached, his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out in an attempt to escape and go forage for food independently, and the world held a vindictive grudge against Bill personally. He trudged downstairs, muttering crabbily to himself.
He wasn't surprised to discover the TV was off.
####
"I'm conducting a survey," Bill said. "Did you hear any advertisements from the TV last night? Maybe have any dreams that might have been influenced by hearing an ad?"
"Uh..." Soos slowed at the bottom of the stairs as he thought. "Nope. Slept like a baby all night."
"Interesting." He waved at Melody to try to catch her attention. "Hey, how about you?"
"Nope!" Already dressed for work, she hurried from the stairs to the living room without even glancing Bill's way. She tended not to linger when he was nearby. He told himself he was flattered.
"Dude," Soos said, "What happened to your arm?"
Bill looked down. On the underside of his forearm were two thick lines set at an angle, burned so dark brown they were nearly black. "Leaned on the stove after someone used the burner. Oops."
"Do you need...?"
"Don't worry about it, it's already healing." Bill rolled down his hoodie's sleeves as he leaned into the kitchen, "How 'bout you, Stan? Hear any phantom ads last night?"
"Nuh-uh. But I sleep with my hearing aids out," Stan said. "The only things loud and grating enough to wake me are a car horn or your voice."
"Ha!" Bill looked from Stan's side of the table to Ford's—and Ford wasn't facing him, but he was glancing from the corner of his eye toward Bill's arms.
Bill turned away without asking anything. No point. Obviously, Ford had been too far underground to have picked up anything. Bill told himself Ford was seething at getting the cold shoulder.
"What're we talking about?" Mabel asked, coming downstairs with Dipper close behind.
Bill looked at her—and then let his gaze sweep past her with the same cold disinterest he'd favored Ford with. He brushed past her to head upstairs. "Hey, somnambulist." He shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes as he passed. "TV was off. No one else heard anything. You dreamed your stupid ad."
"Hey." Dipper pulled his hat back up. "Jerk."
Mabel called, "Bill?"
He ignored her and kept walking.
####
"What was that all about?"
Bill was curled up in the attic window seat, flipping covetously through an issue of Gold Chains For Old Men; at the sound of Mabel's irritated voice, he merely said, "Oh, hello." He turned another page. "Here to try to make a fool of me some more?"
She planted her hands on her hips. "Bill, what are you talking about?"
"Tell me about those 'Mysteries' of yours. Did you plan your story any deeper than that? Were you going to arrange for me to catch you with a cloak and dagger just to make me wonder?"
Mabel paused. "Oh." She laughed weakly.
"So how many people were in on it, huh? Was it just you and Stanford, or did you have the whole house laughing at me behind my back?"
"It—it was just us two." She leaned on the wall by Bill's feet. "Um, so... are you actually mad?"
He shot her a venomous look, then lifted his magazine so he couldn't see her any more.
"Come on!" She poked his knee. "It was a harmless prank! And you lie to everyone all the time."
"No I don't."
"You're so sensitive."
"I am not," Bill said indignantly. "I'm proud. I have pride. And lately pride's about the only thing I have going for me. And I didn't think a friend would try to undermine it."
Mabel heaved a sigh. "Okay, all right. Sorry."
Bill lowered his magazine to peer at her skeptically. "Are you really?"
"Well, yeah." She leaned against the window seat. "It was just a joke, I don't wanna hurt your feelings."
He stared her down a moment longer, assessing her sincerity. And then he sat up and pulled her into a hug.
She squawked in surprise, but returned the embrace. "Bill! What—?"
"You're sweet, you know that, star girl?" He gave her one last squeeze and let her go. "When you aren't trying to make me look dumb. But you don't rub salt in the wounds, that's what matters."
"Pfff. I kinda think you'd try to kill me if I did."
"Mmyeah, I might." He wouldn't. Only person in this entire dull rotten world who was willing to apologize for wronging him. He wasn't giving her up easily. "Hey—did you happen to hear any commercials last night? Maybe have any dreams that might've been caused by one?"
"Nope! I had a dream about cats fighting a war against an octopus."
"Oh, that one. Did the octopus win or did the lions show up in time?"
Mabel paused. "It's always creepy when you do that. But the octopus won this time."
"Aww. That poor picturesque beach town."
"I tried to get between the octopus and the town when the cats failed."
"Did you stop it?"
Mabel shrugged. "Dunno. I woke up before it reached me."
"Too bad! But hey—you've been making big progress with your lucid dreaming. You'll get it next time!" No salesmen offering cars as war chariots for the cats, though. It was almost a pity. Bill would've liked to hear about Bud getting eaten by a giant octopus.
"So I guess Dipper was the only one who thought he heard a commercial."
Dipper and Bill. "Guess so."
####
The large, empty floor room, down the main hallway at the far end of the house, was among the few places Bill was allowed to go. Except when the humans had some big event like a dance or a museum exhibit planned, there was nothing in it but a flat old sofa, a fireplace he couldn't turn on, and Soos's electric piano taunting him. In spite of its relative isolation from the rest of the household, Bill rarely had reason to visit it.
But when he wanted space to pace and think, there was no better room.
Last night's advertisement was magic, no doubt. And he suspected he knew the exact spell. The Mystery Shack was way on the outskirts of Gravity Falls; probably nobody else here was affected because they were just out of range of the signal. The only reason Dipper had nearly picked it up was because he didn't have his thick skull in the way when his spirit was out of his body.
But Bill's psychic abilities had been heavily suppressed since he was put in this body. How was he channeling the signal so much more clearly than anyone else?
He thoughtfully ran his tongue over his new golden tooth. "Hmm."
####
Bud entered the Gleeful house flipping through a pile of mail. "Junk, junk, bills, junk... Here's your subscription, honeybunch." He held out an issue of Nervous Wrecks Weekly magazine. His wife paused her cycle of polishing the front window to stiffly take it.
"Junk, coupons... Gideon! You've got a fan letter!" He checked for a stamp indicating the tiny envelope had passed through a state correctional facility. "And it isn't even from the prison, isn't that nice!"
"Coming!" Gideon ran out of his room, snatched the letter from Bud's hand with a little grunt, ran back to his room giggling, and slammed the door.
Bud chuckled. "Joy, sweetie, you remember when that boy got so much fanmail he used to throw it out? These days he's excited for every single letter." The corners of his mouth turned down. "Suppose it's good for him, learning to appreciate the little things."
"Mhm." She looked down at the roses outside the window. She'd need to trim those soon. "I suppose it is."
In his room, Gideon studied the odd envelope. It was tiny—barely large enough for the address and the stamp, no return address—and when he turned it over he discovered lines of text printed on the paper. The flap was tucked carefully into a fold in the envelope that held it tight.
As he pulled out the flap, he realized that the envelope wasn't held together with glue; it was some sort of cleverly-folded origami craft that began to unfold in his hands as he pulled out the flap. The letter was written on the inside of the envelope. "Why—what a delightful little creation!" He sat at his dressing table to focus on unfolding the letter, careful not to damage it so he could re-fold it later.
Once he'd smoothed it out, he could see that the paper was carefully torn from a book. The outside of the envelope was made from the last page of a chapter, with only a few lines of text at the top of the page and the rest left conveniently blank. It talked about telling the difference between waking and dreaming.
He turned the page over to read the letter.
GIDEON–
IT'S ADORABLE THAT YOU'RE USING A DREAM COUNTERFEITING SPELL FOR CAPITALISM! I BET YOUR PARENTS ARE PROUD! HOWEVER, MY FILLINGS ARE PICKING UP AUTO DEALERSHIP ADS ALL NIGHT. IT'S REALLY ANNOYING. CUT IT OUT.
In place of a signature, there was a triangle with an eye.
Gideon's blood ran cold.
He read the letter again, then studied the words themselves. He didn't recognize the tall, thin, crooked handwriting. He flipped over the envelope. No return address. He noticed for the first time that the letter wasn't addressed to "Gideon". It said "STAR BOY". Fan mail. Right.
The postmark was from Gravity Falls.
"It can't be Bill," Gideon muttered to himself. "Bill's dead. It's got to be some prankster with a twisted sense of humor..."
But then, how could some prankster know he was doing dream magic? Did anyone else even know that Bill had called him "Star Boy"?
No. It had to be a prankster. If Bill were alive, he'd be doing much worse than sending letters and complaining about fillings.
He crumpled up the letter and threw it away. His father's business needed Gideon to do whatever he could to help. Gideon's own financial future depended on it. He wasn't about to let some prankster stop him.
####
There was a rumble of several motorcycles and a revving car engine outside the Gleeful house, disturbing the late evening still. Gideon came in the front door wearing a little backpack, waving behind himself as he came in. "Thanks for the ride, Ghost-Eyes! Good talk today! I'll see y'all this weekend for brunch!" He shut the door as the engines receded into the distance.
"Welcome home, son," Bud said from the couch. "How were the ex-convicts this week?"
"Oh, great, just great. Graybeard's daughter is gonna let him meet his grandson and Spiderwebs got a new job."
"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. I know you were real concerned for Spiderwebs."
"I shouldn't have worried! He got work at an alpaca ranch on the other side of town, did you know there's an alpaca ranch 'round here?"
"Can't say I did!"
"I think it's a good fit for him. Being out in nature calms him down."
An uneasy silence fell over the room as they waited a polite amount of time to change the topic. In the kitchen, Joy cleaned the same dish for the third time.
Bud cleared his throat. "Well, uh—you know, it's been a couple of days since we've run a 'nighttime ad.' Do you think it's a good time to...?"
Gideon squeezed his backpack's straps. He could still see that spindly text reading "STAR BOY". "Do you think? I don't want to put 'em too close together, folks might notice..."
Bud grimaced. "It can't hurt. It's been almost two weeks since I sold a car."
Gideon scowled. But he nodded. "Yeah, all right. I'll go set up."
"You know how much your mother and I appreciate it," Bud said. "I'll go heat up dinner."
Gideon went to his room, tossed his backpack on his bed, rolled out the tarp on which he'd drawn the circle and sigils in permanent marker, and set up the candlesticks and candles around the perimeter. His father called him to dinner; they watched an evening talk show; and after a little more dawdling, they figured it was late enough that most folks would be asleep, and went to Gideon's room to get to work.
As Bud awkwardly lowered himself to sit in the circle and Gideon lit the candles, Gideon asked, "Father, do you ever... remember who you talk to? I mean, whose dreams you're in?"
Bud considered that, pursing his lips. "No, can't say I do. It's a bit like I'm dreaming myself," he said. "And it's sort of a jumble of a few hundred dreams, too. Like I'm visiting the whole town at once. All I can recall is a blur!"
Gideon frowned. "I see."
"You sure you don't want to be sitting in the circle this time?" Bud asked. "I'd bet if folks saw you in their dreams telling them to buy a car, why, they'd just rush right down."
These days, Gideon wasn't so sure. Sourly, he said, "I don't want to get involved." He'd gotten enough of starring in his father's car commercials when he was younger. He'd thought he'd escaped that completely when he picked up the telepathy act; he didn't relish the thought of using telepathy to star in another car commercial.
"All right, suit yourself. Just keep it in mind." Bud got as comfortable as he could on the floor and shut his eyes.
Gideon took a deep breath and began chanting: "Dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away..."
The flames flickered and turned bright blue. A purplish shimmery light surrounded Bud; and as Gideon kept chanting, the light expanded to the edge of the circle and beyond, creeping across the floor, over the bed—
A shrill wail filled the room. They both started, losing their concentration. The wail persisted several seconds before it resolved into a eardrum-bursting roar of words: "HI I'M SCOUT YOUNGER AND I'M IN A PICKLE SO YOU CAN DRIVE FOR A NICKEL! I'VE GOT SO MANY CARS I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT 'EM! SO WE'RE GIVING THEM AWAY FOR FIVE CENTS, THAT'S RIGHT FIVE CENTS! SCOUT YOUNGER, I'M A DEALER BY THE PEOPLE FOR THE PEOPLE—"
"Dagnabbit," Bud shouted, "that's the man undermining my no-barter-for-a-quarter deal and getting all my business! He's halfway to Portland—but darn it, his commercials are so catchy!"
"—THAT'S YOUNGER PATRIOT CARS, ON THE NORTH SIDE OF INTERSTATE—" The commercial was cut off with a clap of thunder that made them both jump again.
And before the dying rumbles of the thunder had fully faded, a second voice spoke—a high-pitched, furious shriek that Gideon hadn't heard in nearly a year but instantly recognized: "SEE HOW YOU LIKE GETTING USED CAR ADS SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, YOU LITTLE TWERP. THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING!"
There was another crack of thunder; and then nothing.
Nothing but a faint, muffled, mechanical whir coming from Gideon's bed.
Slowly, Bud said, "Is that...?"
Gideon looked under his bed; then on top, tugging over his backpack and unzipping it; and he pulled out a still-running cassette tape player. A complicated sigil was painted on top of the player and stretched over the play button, glowing shimmery purple as though it had absorbed the magic from Gideon's spell.
Bud took the tape player, stopped it, rewound a bit, turned down the volume dial, and hit play: "—your throat in the middle of the night, you little—"
He stopped the tape. He and Gideon looked at each other.
Bud said, "Don't tell your mother."
####
"Third lap!" Dipper crowed as his car zoomed over the line on the digital racetrack. "You'd better catch up fast!"
"Aw, c'mon," Mabel groaned. She tilted her body along with her game controller as she steered her car around a tricky curve, as though that would help her go a little faster. "No fair, I'd be winning if you didn't throw a goose at me—"
"Pff, shut up, you always use the goose."
Bill was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the fish tank—as far as either Dipper or Mabel could tell, having a staring contest with the axolotl—but without breaking eye contact with the tank, he leaned over to elbow Dipper's knee. "Hey kid. Go left."
"What? No, shut up." Dipper tried to kick Bill's arm away.
"Go left. Trust me, it's a hidden shortcut."
"No! You're not even watching."
"I'm psychic. Go left."
"No." Dipper jerked his car to the right. It drove off the track and landed in quicksand. "Aw, man—"
"YES!" Mabel sailed past him. A fanfare played as she crossed the finish line. "The winner! Woo-woooo!"
Bill beamed as Dipper glared at the side of his face.
Somebody knocked on the door—and kept knocking, frantically hammering for attention. Dipper and Mabel looked over.
Bill glanced over, rolled his eyes, said, "You don't want to answer that," and looked back at the fish tank.
Dipper glared at him again, stood, and went to answer the door, Mabel close behind. "Hel— Gideon?"
"Told you," Bill muttered.
Gideon was sweating, panting, and wild-eyed with panic. "Mabel! Dipper!" He paused to give Mabel a sweet smile. "Hi Mabel~♡" And straight back to panic. "We've got a problem! I know y'all don't want me 'round here, but—but this is an emergency!"
Dipper glanced at Mabel. She sighed, but reluctantly stepped back to let Gideon in. "All right. What is it?"
"I know I sound insane, but—but you have to trust me," Gideon said. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Bill Cipher's back! I'm sure it's Bill, it can't be anyone else, he... he knows things only somebody with his powers could know!" He paced anxiously in front of the twins, "He's been sending me threatening mail and harassing me and—and I don't know what he's up to, but we've got to find him and stop him! You've gotta help me!" He grabbed Dipper's arms. "I think he might be trying to kill my family!"
Dipper and Mabel turned to glare at Bill.
He was determinedly studying the fish tank.
"Hey, Goldie," Dipper snapped.
Bill glanced over with an expression of mild interest. "Hm?"
"Gideon here says that Bill's been harassing him," Dipper said. "What do you think about that."
"Oh wow," Bill said, extremely unconvincingly. "That's so crazy. I can't even believe it."
Gideon's anxious gaze darted past Dipper and Mabel. "Who's...?" He thought he remembered seeing that stranger around Wendy.
Dipper stepped between their line of sight. "Thanks, Gideon. We'll handle this... problem."
The stranger got to his feet and sauntered to the entryway. "Hey Gideon. Just out of curiosity, what were y—"
Mabel cut in, "Bye, Gideon!" She tried to push him toward the door. "We'll see you later!"
The stranger leaned over Gideon, planting a hand on the doorframe. "—what were you doing that got on Bill's nerves so much, I wonder—"
"Shhh!" Mabel tried to push Bill away.
Had Gideon not heard the voice so recently, he might not have noticed anything odd about the stranger in front of him. But as it was, a chill instantly ran up his spine. He slowly looked up. The menacing smile was unfamiliar, but the eye... something was wrong with that eye. The longer he stared into it, the more he could see the cruel, mad, golden inhumanity.
Gideon squealed in terror and bolted out the door. 
Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "Seriously?"
Mabel chased after him. "Gideon! Gideon wait!" She caught up with him rounding in front of the gift shop and had to tackle him into the dirt.
"Get offa me! You're working for him, you traitor—"
"Gideon, listen! We're not working for him, he's our prisoner!"
"Oh." Gideon stopped struggling. "Well, that's a different kettle of corn, isn't it."
Mabel sighed in relief. She backed off Gideon, but had to hold his ankle to make sure he wouldn't bolt again. "Okay, look. We don't know how, but Bill's stuck in a human body, and he's got no powers."
"How do y'all know he isn't faking it?"
"Because he tried to kill us and we beat him up." She winced. "We've... kind of beat him up a lot."
Gideon nodded. "O... okay."
"But you can't tell anybody," Mabel said. "If there's an angry mob or something and he gets executed, the real Bill might hatch from his body like an egg and he'll take over the town again!"
Gideon shuddered. He could almost still feel ache in his legs and the blisters on his feet under the adorable sparkly pink shoes.
"So he's fine here with us. We've got everything under control, he's not dangerous like this—" Mabel turned around to shout, "—and HE SHOULDN'T BE SENDING THREATENING LETTERS, BILL."
Bill's voice drifted from around the corner of the house: "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"
Dipper said, "What did Gideon do to warrant that, anyway?"
Bill glowered into the distance. "He knows what he did."
"Okay, I-I won't tell anyone. I promise." Pitifully, Gideon asked, "Can I go home now?"
"Yeah, you can go home now." Mabel let him go. He got up and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him.
####
They reconvened in the living room. Dipper and Mabel stood in front of Bill, glaring. Bill sat on the sofa, smiling innocently.
"Bill," Mabel said. "You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Oh, yeah?" Lots of people thought he should be ashamed of himself, but not many had the guts to say so.
"Bullying Gideon like that!"
"I have an excuse," Bill said. "I've been crabby this week. Body made me crabby. Some kind of human neurotransmitter imbalance. I didn't sign up to have neurotransmitters, it's completely out of my hands."
"That's not an excuse," Dipper said.
"Plus, you're an entire adult thing!" Mabel said. "You're picking on a little kid! He's like, eleven!"
"So? There's not a lot of difference between eleven and a hundred eleven when you're a million million years old."
"Then maybe you're too old to bully anybody."
Bill blinked in mild surprise. "Huh."
Dipper said, "Plus, you're gonna blow your cover and get everyone in trouble!"
Bill shrugged. "He can't prove anything! Anyone could have sent a letter pretending to be me."
Mabel asked, "How did you send a letter, anyway?"
####
"Hey, Soos," Mabel yelled, "Can you send a letter for me?"
"Sure thing, hambone! Just stick it on the pile in the kitchen."
Mabel licked a stamp, haphazardly slapped it on the envelope to her parents, tossed it on the other mail, and ran back upstairs.
Bill crept into the kitchen, peeled the stamp off Mabel's envelope before it dried, stuck it on his tiny origami letter, and stuffed them both into the middle of the mail pile. "Sorry, kid," he muttered. "You'll just have to resend this one."
####
"I have my ways," Bill said.
"And how did you 'harass' Gideon?" Dipper asked. "What could you possibly do from in here to harass him?"
####
Bill sat on the sofa in the floor room with Mabel's boombox radio on the floor, a cassette tape player/recorder he'd salvaged from the museum held up to the speaker with his thumb hovering over the record button, his other hand hovering over the key with the thunder sound effect on Soos's keyboard, an air horn between his knees, and a nearly-dead marker he'd fished out of Mabel's trash and revitalized with rubbing alcohol waiting next to him for drawing a magic-activated sigil. He glared at the boombox as the local radio station played an advertisement for air conditioning installation. "Come on," he muttered at the boombox. "Play the stupid car commercial."
The next ad started. "Bargain alert, bargain alert! I've got more used cars than I know what to do with! Hi, I'm Scout—"
"Yes," Bill hissed. He hit the record button, squeezed the air horn between his knees, held the tape recorder up to the boombox until the end of the commercial, kicked the boombox's power button, quickly held the tape recorder up to the piano, and triumphantly hit the key that produced the sound of a flushing toilet.
"NO!" He kicked the electric piano's leg, flung the tape recorder to the other end of the sofa, and flopped face down on the cushions. After permitting himself a moment of grief at the injustice of it all, he dragged over the tape recorder, stopped it, rewound it back to the start, hit the lightning key several times to make sure he had it, and then set up again to wait for the next time the car commercial played.
####
"Hey Wendy, could you get this door for me?"
Wendy gave Bill a puzzled look. "That's the wrong hallway. Rainbow Club's down that one." She pointed at the door across the room.
"I know, I'm just looking for the restroom! I need to dooo... girl hygiene things?"
Wendy looked at the tape player-shaped lump under Bill's shirt, looked at his face, and raised her brow.
"Okay, okay. I'm gonna prank Lil Gideon."
Wendy opened the door, leaned through, and opened a second door to a coat closet. "Good luck. We're all counting on you."
Bill saluted her, and rummaged through the leather biker jackets in search of Gideon's little backpack.
####
"You've got no idea what kind of dark powers I still have at my disposal," Bill boasted, leaning back and lacing his hands behind his head.
Dipper turned to Mabel. "Yeah, he's got nothing. He probably bribed a tourist to call Gideon's house or something."
Bill scowled, but didn't dignify Dipper with a response. "Anyway, the game's over now that Gideon knows where I am. I won't do it again."
Dipper scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Why should we trust you?"
"Because," Bill said calmly, "if I do it again, you'll have to tell your uncles, and I'll be in serious trouble. So I won't... and therefore, you won't. Right?"
Dipper frowned, but looked at Mabel. Mabel was considering Bill with her hands on her hips. She prompted, "Aaand...?"
It took Bill a moment to figure out what she was aiming for. "And I've realized I was mean and I'm very remorseful for my hurtful actions."
Mabel pointed at him. "That's what I wanna hear!" She looked at Dipper. "I think we can let him off with a warning."
Dipper shook his head in resignation.
Mabel said, "But you're not stopping there, Bill."
"How's that?"
"Come on, man, think!" She poked her finger against her temple. "You know the answer! We just watched this episode yesterday!"
"Episode?" Dipper asked.
"I've been using Color Critters to teach him social skills."
Bill said, "I have social skills, all you're doing is showing me what'll be on the test."
"That's how learning works, dummy! I wanna hear you regurgitate that textbook answer!"
Bill opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and pantomimed sticking his finger down his throat and gagging; but then he said, with a blatantly artificial chipper tone, "'If we hurt our friends, we should try to find a way to make it up to them and make sure it can't happen again.'" 
"That's right! 98 points! I'm taking two off for attitude."
"So how do you expect me to make it up to him? I can't exactly un-send him a letter. Unless you're gonna loan me that time tape—"
"Stop asking for the time tape," Dipper said, "it'll never happen."
Bill shrugged. "Then what do you suggest."
"Figure it out yourself," Mabel said. "You're the one who's gotta make it up to Gideon, not us."
Bill rolled his eye. "Is this part of the terms to buy your silence?"
"Yeah, it is."
"All right, fine." Bill sighed and stood up. "Give me a bit to brainstorm. I'll be upstairs." He meandered out of the room.
Mabel called after him, "You better not think you're wiggling out of this!"
"Relax! I won't disappoint you, Shooting Star. Promise."
Once he was out of earshot, Dipper turned to Mabel. "How do you expect him to make it up to Gideon?"
"He should say 'sorry.'"
Dipper nodded. Okay, sure, that sounded reasonable. "How long do you think it'll take for him to think of apologizing?"
"I'd give it a couple of hours."
####
(If you recognize the dealership being parodied, we now share a warrior's bond. Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, I've been looking forward to introducing Gideon for a long time! As always, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts and comments on the chapter!)
468 notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 2 years
Text
au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.
Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.
The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.
As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.
Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.
Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.
Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.
After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.
Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.
"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.
They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.
She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."
"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."
"He's changed."
"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.
"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."
They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.
"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.
They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.
"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."
Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."
Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.
Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.
Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.
"Good?" Steve asks.
Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."
He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.
"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."
🎬🎸🎬🎸
Fifteen Months Later
"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"
Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.
There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.
"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.
The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.
"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.
"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.
"Liar," Steve answers.
Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."
"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.
Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."
Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.
Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.
His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.
4K notes · View notes
jayflrt · 5 months
Text
𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 34. in too deep
Tumblr media
WHEN YOON JEONGHAN TAPPED JAY'S SHOULDER, HIS BRAIN WAS TOO MUDDLED TO EVEN THINK PROPERLY.
He underestimated how casual the gesture of tapping someone to get their attention was, and it was evident when he was looking back at Jeonghan with a confused gaze. Jay had spent the entire day freaking out over whether he was going to get a seat in the Order, and now that he was face-to-face with one of their members, he couldn't even grasp that he was being offered a spot.
Jay was in the middle of reading your frantic texts about getting a seat from Sungjin, sitting at an empty booth in the library so that he could charge his laptop. The very thought of Sunghoon being left behind had him so baffled that he could only gawk at Jeonghan for a few seconds. The senior only seemed amused, hardly even realizing that Jay had far more weighing on his mind than being tapped.
"Congratulations, Jay," Jeonghan said with a broad grin stretching across his face, "welcome to the Order."
Every word he could have used to finish his sentence died on Jay's tongue, and instead he croaked out, "I—huh?"
"Yeah, I'm not sure how else to dumb it down for you."
He wasn't sure what snapped him back into reality—maybe it was the whistle of the wind in his ear, or perhaps it was the fear that Jeonghan must have thought he was a crazy person—but Jay immediately straightened up and let out a forced cough.
"Sorry," he got out immediately. "Thanks. I just thought—"
"That you wouldn't get in?" Jeonghan finished for him. "Yeah, I thought so, too. We were debating between you and Kazuha for nearly an hour. It took a lot of manipulation to convince them that Kazuha wasn't the right choice."
The corner of Jay's mouth picked up in a grin. "Manipulation?"
"Let's just keep that between us." Jeonghan gave him a wry smile and handed over a thin, black folder with a few sheets of papers tucked neatly inside. "You can open that later. It's just a welcome letter and a notice about sending us details so we can coordinate your initiation night."
"Huh..." Jay trailed off; his mind was still stuck on his bid rather than the folder in his hands. "I didn't think I'd get in after that interview."
"Are you kidding? They loved your answers, especially when you said you'd punch Sunghoon."
"But—I didn't even know the answer to whatever seven-eight-six meant, though."
"That's the whole point," Jeonghan said. "You're not supposed to know everything! What we believe is that it's valuable to admit that there are answers you haven't found yet, but you also did your best to draw a conclusion with the little information you had."
"So... what does it mean?"
"We don't know."
"What?"
"We don't know," he echoed with a shrug. "We think the founder chose it to represent us because he claimed to have decided eighteen of the characters on the Kryptos sculpture himself—on top of the ones that're already deciphered."
"Interesting," Jay replied with an inquisitive hum. He then gave Jeonghan a strange look. "Are you supposed to be telling me this, by the way?"
"Sungjin didn't want us talking with you guys too much, actually. We're supposed to just tap you on the shoulder, hand you the file, and leave." He scratched the back of his neck aimlessly. "I have to stay on campus until my next class, though, so I don't really have anywhere else to go."
"If they ask, I'll let them know that you were very, very mysterious."
"See? I told them that was what the Order needed: loyalty."
Jay felt his stomach twist. He was probably the worst example of that, but seeing that Jeonghan held him in such high regard, he couldn't bring himself to object. Instead, he brushed off the senior's words with a shy grin.
Jeonghan continued, "I swear, they were deliberating for so long that I—"
"Jeonghan—wait, Jay?"
To Jay's relief, you walked up behind his table, looking between the two men several times before you seemed to piece together what was going on. The determination that had darkened your eyes seconds prior started to melt away.
"You got a seat?" you breathed out, and before Jay could nod, you were shooing him further down the cushioned bench so that you could sit next to him. Your gaze immediately landed on the black folder in Jay's hands. "Oh!"
There was an awkward pause. You looked up at him for a brief moment, and it looked like you had a lot more to say instead of opening and closing your mouth over and over again. Jay's throat felt tight. Your sideways look at Jeonghan made Jay wonder how what your true reactions would've been if you two were alone.
Since you clearly hadn't anchored yourself back into reality, Jay slapped his folder onto the table to take Jeonghan's attention away from how distracted you had gotten.
"What? You didn't think I'd make it in or something?" he teased you, although he was quite aware that that wasn't your intention.
"No," you insisted with a scoff, kicking Jay's shin under the table.
Jay hissed through his teeth, nudging your leg back with his shoe. Unbeknownst to Jeonghan, you two were in an intense battle of trying to kick the other; your attempts were always stronger than his.
"Oh, that's fucked up," Jeonghan joined in, leaning forward onto his elbows. "Were you hoping someone else would get in over Jay?"
He rolled his eyes, realizing that Jeonghan was just hungry for a morsel of gossip. However, anticipation was swirling in Jay's chest as he prepared himself for whatever your answer would be. After your text about Sunghoon's situation, he wouldn't have been surprised if you were more concerned about your ex-boyfriend.
You huffed. "No, I think Jay deserves it out of anyone who interviewed."
His heartbeat was somehow quicker. More intense. Jay couldn't understand why your words left little electric currents running under his skin, but he was just grateful that you couldn't see how much of a mess his head was.
"But what the hell, Jeonghan?" you continued, sharper. "Why did Sungjin give me his seat?"
Jeonghan let out a dry laugh before shaking his head. "Can't give you our reasonings."
"Weren't you just talking about mine?" Jay cut in since he was equally curious about where Sunghoon's predicament was going.
"Well, that's—" The senior cut himself off and screwed up his eyes as he processed his next words. "Okay, you're technically right, but I gave you my seat, Jay. I didn't give Y/N my seat, so I can't tell her why she was chosen by Sungjin."
You and Jay stared blankly at Jeonghan for a moment, who was slowly losing his resolve to keep quiet.
"Okay, fine." Jeonghan sighed heavily. "Tell anyone about this, though, and you two won't be having a fun initiation process." As Jay swallowed thickly at the thought of being hazed, Jeonghan leaned over the table and lowered his voice to say, "I don't know much because we don't really question Number One, but he just said that he didn't want to extend his seat to his brother anymore. Something about wanting Sunghoon to make it on his own."
Jay frowned. "Number One?"
"That's what we call our president," he replied. "Only the members of the Order know about Number One's identity for the duration of their office."
"You're really a loudmouth, Jeonghan," you sneered.
Jeonghan held up his hands in mock surrender.
"Then did Sunghoon get a seat or not?" Jay asked. "He had to have gotten a tap, right? It'd be ridiculous if he didn't."
Jeonghan only shrugged in response. "The finalized list of our new members will be emailed out tonight. You'll find out then."
You and Jay exchanged uneasy looks. Waiting to hear back from Sunghoon appeared to be their only option, and it only made Jay feel more at war with his head and heart.
For one, Sunghoon was a crucial part of the mission. Something happening to him would definitely affect you, and although that made Jay feel a twinge of bitterness, he recognized that you two had a previous connection that he couldn't get between.
On the other hand, he felt that he was in too deep—so deep that he wasn't sure how he would pull himself out when this was all over. Jay remembered it every time he turned white-knuckled when he would text his client; every time he laughed around Heeseung; every time he had to take a few seconds for his rage to simmer around Sunghoon; and every time he looked into your eyes and felt some semblance of peace.
And it made him feel terrified.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
next | masterlist | next
SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.
TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss
329 notes · View notes
eevees-hobbies · 1 month
Text
Like Magnets Do (Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo) - NSFW
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Who wouldn’t want to work at a bookstore for the Summer?! But there’s just something about your boss, Hayato Suo, that rubs you the right kind of way. Sure, he’s an asshole, but the bookish types usually are! Enjoy your Summer job, and please try not to entice your boss!
Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo. I do not condone the actions written in this story. As always, this is a piece of fiction, so please consume responsibly and mind the content warnings. Obsession, mention of stalking, boss-employee relationship (NO!), flirting/sexual activity at work (NO!!), fingering, panties in mouth, dominant/submissive play. Reader likes it all. Minors Do Not Interact.
Author’s Note: Part of the Help Wanted: @interstellar-inn collab event. This man is really hard to write 2K words for but this was a welcome exercise in brevity! Thank you to @suosgirl for reminding me of Suo’s tumultuous relationship with reader’s panties.
Word Count: 2.0K
Story banner by me. Dividers by Saradika.
Tumblr media
You were ecstatic when you saw the “Help Wanted” sign on your college campus indicating that your favorite small business bookstore needed help for the Summer. Being surrounded by literature and like-minded bookworms was a life-long fantasy that was only a paper application away–yeah, paper.
Red Flag #1:
You filled out said application and were immediately called for an interview that day.
Red Flag #2:
You interviewed with the owner of the store, an older gentleman who rushed you through your answers to very simplistic questions: “Do you read?” “Do you know how to sweep?” To your non-surpise, you were hired on the spot.
The Reddest Flag of Them All:
On your first day, you asked a colleague about the whereabouts of the older gentleman who had hired you. They simply gave you a look of pity as they counted down their register to clock out. 
“Oh, you must have interviewed with Bill. Bill doesn’t really “manage” the bookstore. He pops in occasionally, sure, but we report to something else.”
You tilted your head at his word choice. Something else? At seeing your confusion, your co-worker gave you a pat on the shoulder and dropped a bomb that you weren’t expecting on your first day. 
“Doesn’t matter. It’s my last day anyway. Now you can deal with him.” As he concluded his dramatic sentence, the bell that indicated someone had entered the store jingled softly, and the most breathtakingly handsome man strolled in.
You put on your best customer-friendly smile, and as he approached you, your heartbeat thundered in time with the resounding tempo of his footsteps. He gave you a small smile, his eye closed, the other covered by an eyepatch, and he opened his mouth.
“Ah, you must be the newest meat. We’ll see how long you last.”
How’s that for an orientation?
The weeks that followed were like going through your own version of hell. Your new boss, who you had learned was named Hayato Suo, was a complete asshole. You could feel him breathing down your neck as he criticized your filing technique or how you couldn’t immediately identify the name of a book that a customer wanted. He had a snarky remark for everything, but worst of all was not how he spoke to you but how fucking attractive he was. 
You constantly found your eyes lingering on how he smiled at customers upon helping them with daunting requests or how his fingers would stroke the spine of books as he determined if they were worth pulling from the shelf. And despite your best effort–and you really fucking tried—you found yourself developing a bit of a crush on your asshole of a boss.
To you, Suo was just a simple Summer crush. There was no way your boss could ever be into you, right?
You wouldn’t know this because of his calm demeanor, but the first time Suo laid his eyes on you, he nearly had to remind himself to breathe. To Suo, everything about you is simply perfect. His attraction to you felt natural, and it also felt painfully inevitable. Not recognizing the immediate pull he had to you would be like denying himself of oxygen, which was a fact that had him often drumming his fingers against his desk in annoyance. 
But instead of pushing you away, Suo felt himself gravitating towards you every chance he could. He often stalked closely behind you to monitor the way you put away books in an attempt to catch the intoxicating scent of your hair. 
Your voice, which sounded of gospel, had him tuning into the conversations you had with customers–his eyes narrowing as other students would enter the bookstore just to steal away the precious time you had together. Never mind that they may or may not have been flirting; they were simply a hindrance during a time when Suo needed to bond with you. They were an obstacle that limited his ability to make you see the truth: that you two were perfect for one another.
And Suo was painfully aware that he only had you for the Summer when, in actuality, he wanted a lifetime. Time was of the essence, so he needed to act fast.
Suo was solely responsible for the schedule, so he ensured all your shifts included working alongside him. If Suo was opening the following day, he saw you bright and early—never mind that he was pushing a cup of coffee in your hand that was your exact order down to the amount of sugar you liked; he was just very observant, ok? 
If Suo were closing, he’d insist on walking you to your car because you could never be too safe, and he wanted to make sure that you were going home alone because if you were going home with any gentlemen, it should be him.
Next were the light touches. 
When you would attempt to reach a book that was far too high for your reach—and maybe he was the one who sent you to that particular section in search of that novel knowing you’d have trouble–semantics! He’d watch as you’d outstretch your body, the way your curves beckoned to him, his eyes sweeping over you with lustful satisfaction that made the hair on the back of his neck stand. He’d slowly walk up behind you, lean against you to the point that the heat from your bodies entangled one another, and place a seemingly innocent hand on the small of your back and retrieve the book.
As you looked over your shoulder at his unexpected proximity, your eyes catching his, you couldn’t help but notice the look in his eyes. Something in the pit of your stomach told you that maybe you should run–or at the very least call HR because you were most certainly in the jaws of something predatory–but there were two issues: there was no HR department, and you kind of had a thing for men that looked at you like you were something to be devoured.
It all came to a boiling point one night while you both closed the store.
As you were wiping down one of the display tables, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you. You made a show of bending over further to give him a better view of your backside. You hadn’t thought he took the bait until you felt hot breath on the back of your neck and a sharp, strained voice in your ear.
“You do that on purpose, don’t you?” Long fingers curled around your hips as you felt him pushing you against the table. You, being the asshole that you are, decided to do the worst thing you could do to someone who doesn’t take teasing well–you laughed.
“Do what on purpose? Whatever hard-on you have for me is your problem.”
“You think so? You don’t think I catch you staring at me? You don’t think I see how you look at me? You’re insatiably filthy.”
“You haven’t seen insatiable, Suo, and I don’t think you could handle me at ‘insatiable.’”
Suo’s eyes widened slightly as he realized he had misunderstood you all along–you weren’t as innocent as you looked, which made him far more excited. His gaze darkened as he leaned forward, pressing his erection against the valley of your fabric-clad ass in your skirt. “I’m going to have fun breaking you tonight. Finish closing up and meet me in my office when you’re done.”
As your eyes wandered to the ‘We are Open” sign facing into the store's interior, you briefly contemplated an alternative universe where you hung up your apron and left the bookstore, never to return. But that alternative universe sounded boring, and if you weren’t being threatened by intense sexual undertones from your remarkably hot Summer boss, were you genuinely having a good time? 
No, of course not.
As you finished your duties, you cautiously pushed the door open to Suo’s office. He sat at his desk, and instead of appearing stern and upset, he seemed almost pleased, which frightened you more. He lifted a finger and pointed to the middle of the rug as he walked around his desk. 
Your eyes flickered between the rug in front of you and him. As you hesitated, Suo was on you in an instant, pushing you up against the wall, his fingers digging into your thighs as the nearby items on shelves clattered to the floor,
He leaned in, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. “You’re still willing to play these silly games with me? Despite this magnetic pull between us?”
“I’m not going to ask you again.” Suo suddenly pulls away, strides back to his desk, and leans against it as he looks at you with a neutral expression. And despite every fiber in your being telling you to not make this easy for him, you feel your legs moving your body to the center of the rug.
It must be that damn magnetic pull he was talking about earlier.
As you lowered yourself to the floor, you were stopped in a crouching position as Suo's voice halted your movement. “Your hesitancy from earlier has cost you the privilege of wearing panties. Take them off and give them to me.”
Your eyes shot up to his, and you saw unwavering and unbridled absolution in his eyes. You shivered as you hiked up your skirt and hooked your fingers around the hem of your panties. You maintained eye contact with him as you tossed them to him. His eyes narrowed as he caught them, but he said nothing of your continued bratty attitude. 
“Now crawl to me.”
Like a good girl, you follow his orders, and he offers you a hand–a kind gesture that puts you on edge. As he pulls you up, he presses your underwear to your lips, and once again, like a good girl, you obey by opening your mouth. 
He gives you a pleased smile before leaning in; his lips pressed to your ear as he poses a demand. “Tell me that you need me to touch you. Tell me that you want this, bunny.”
As you give him a muffled whine of approval, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he tilts his head in mock confusion. Fine, you think, I’ll just fucking show you. You hike one leg up on the desk, effectively pinning him in and allowing him the inability to deny that this is something you want.
And with the urgency of someone who has been dreaming of this very moment with you, Suo pulls your skirt up and slips his fingers inside your heat. And at first, he’s gentle, but as your muffled moans spur him on, he can’t help how he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot or the way he simultaneously rubs his palm against your swollen and aching clit. He watches you with such intensity that it makes you feel akin to being under a microscope. You can feel him studying you, committing every expression and involuntary movement to memory. 
His fingers explore you hungrily; he flicks his wrist, and his eyes stay locked onto your face as he finds the spot he knows that can make you shatter. His kisses along your jaw feel scalding, and you can feel the upward twitch of his lips as your eyes roll back for him.
He wants to see you at your most vulnerable and your most beautiful. He wants to see you unravel in the messiest of ways for him. And when you finally climax, he lets out a shaky breath, an indication that he’s so very close to losing control of himself—and all for you.
“There you go, bunny. You’re so much more tolerable when you have that look on your face.”
With a snort, you adjust your clothes as Suo’s intense gaze lingers. His voice sounds level as he speaks, “Semester starts Monday, but I can adjust your schedule to accommodate your classes…” 
And while you hadn’t intended for this Summer job to be anything but a quick and easy way to make money, you truly can’t deny the force of the pull you feel for him. 
“That sounds great, boss.”
Tumblr media
141 notes · View notes
seungrem · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dick Grayson x Male!reader
‘Confidential’ ~*+
Masterlist - Part 1 of ??
Tumblr media
summary: When reader and a friend fall victim to a scheme in Gotham, a cute cop (if that’s what he really is) takes reader in for protection. Waiting for the mystery regarding his friend’s disappearance to be uncovered, reader insists on helping the cop.
( overview: college student!reader, cop?grayson, Alessio Falcone = made up character, kidnapping, hero-canon-typical violence, a murder attempt, protective custody, and police. basically a plot intro, Batfam & Red Hood cameos )
Tumblr media
emoji code:
🌿 ( long story & series - 5.1k words )
🧸 ( light fluff )
🫧 ( light angst )
☁️ ( stands for y/n )
likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Tumblr media
Sunlight gleamed through the trees above as ☁️ sat alone at a table, his computer buzzing softly. A gentle breeze brushed against his hoodie, cooling the boy in this unusually hot spring air.
The sound of someone clearing their throat caused ☁️ to jump, him then noticing a man standing opposite to where he sat. The man placed his brown satchel onto the seat as ☁️ lowered his computer screen.
“Hello, are you ☁️?”
“Hello-oh...”
☁️ lifted his gaze from his computer to the man, looking him up and down. He was tall and handsome with long dark hair and blue eyes. His muscular build was visible through his blue shirt and black jacket. The boy assumed he was simply another student- a hot one at that.
“Oh? Are you not..”
“No, no- sorry. I am, what’s up?”
“I’ve been looking for you. Do you mind if I join you for a sec?” The man’s tone was soft, and his voice not too deep.
“Sure.” ☁️ responded, motioning him to sit. As the stranger sat, the boy stared expectantly at him.
The man reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing a golden badge and briefly holding it in front of ☁️’s face. He quickly placed the badge back into his pocket and then looked around.
“My name is Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. I’m with the GCPD and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” He paused. “You’re best-friends with Alessio Falcone, right?”
☁️ huffed, annoyed.
“Not really. And you’re the fourth cop who’s come up to me since he went missing. I already told-”
“I only have two interviews on file. Who’s the third one?” Dick said, pulling a tan folder from his bag. He opened it, looking through the pages.
“Tim.. something. I forgot the last name.”
“Drake?”
“Probably.”
Dick cursed under his breath, placing the file on the table.
“I need you to go over the events of last Friday again. Give me every detail.”
“I have a paper to write.” ☁️ said, getting agitated. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention from Dick to his laptop. Dick swiped the laptop away with quickness, closing it, and then placing it into his bag.
“I need you to take this seriously.”
☁️ exhaled. “Alessio and I were only school friends. He’s impulsive and stubborn, and I would be very surprised if he was still alive after two days.”
“He’s a Falcone, after all. So you two were only school friends? Nothing more?”
“Is that not what I said?”
“Play nice or I’m taking this home.” Dick said, tapping his bag.
☁️ sighed, intertwining his fingers and placing his hand in his lap.
Tumblr media
- 2 days ago -
Roaring past ☁️ and Alessio, two black vans turned the corner in front of them.
“We’re getting farther from campus. Let’s head back.” ☁️ suggested, looking around at the cloudy sky above. Alessio pretended not to hear him, the two continuing down the sidewalk and turning the corner. Upon turning, the sidewalk came to an abrupt end, with a long path of grass in its place. The two vans parked far in the distance, in front of a seemingly abandoned black barn.
“I wanna see what they’re up to.” Alessio pushed his long brown hair from out of his eyes, him then looking over to ☁️. Alessio wore his signature gray polo-shirt with straight black pants and black loafers, his style making his rich lifestyle particularly obvious.
“That’s an easy way to get killed. We’re still in Gotham.” ☁️ responded as he stopped. Alessio noticed, him doing the same.
“We don’t need to get super close, I just wanna see what they bring inside.” Alessio smiled, gesturing ☁️ to continue forward. His watch reflected the little sunlight that came from the sky as he did so.
Only a few blocks away from Gotham City University, Alessio and ☁️ continued through the grass. The two passed the buildings beside them, a small field of trees now standing in between them and the barn. The road turned into a dirt path, with many thick trees shading each side of it.
“Stay behind the trees.” ☁️ instructed as the two creeped through the mini-forest.
Getting close enough to see what the people from the vans were exporting into the building, ☁️ noticed that the barn was much larger than it appeared. Alessio and ☁️ watched as metal suitcases were carefully lifted and brought inside by a few people at a time.
“What do you think are in them?” Alessio asked in a low tone, keeping his gaze on the small group.
“Drugs, probably. We should head back now.”
“We still have 20 minutes until class.”
“That’s not what I mean. We’ve gotten too close, and it looks like they’re leaving soon.”
The small group of people walked outside, talking loudly amongst themselves. ☁️ could only make out a few phrases, like “..that guy’s a total creep..” and “..what do you think he’s doing with..”
Alessio crept toward a tree that was closer to the group, standing behind it as he listened. ☁️ peaked over at him every few seconds, obviously worried.
After a few minutes, the vans roared down the dirt road and back onto the main one. Alessio hurried back to ☁️, squatting down beside him.
“There’s something weird going on in there.”
“We can just call the cops. I’m not going in there.”
“Well, I am. Be my lookout.”
☁️ grabbed Alessio’s arm, holding it stiffly.
“Alessio, I will NOT go in there if anything happens. Please, let’s report it and go back.”
☁️ doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he does remember freaking out after waiting for 25 minutes. He sent the boy 6 messages, and his battery was getting low.
-
An hour passed, and the clouds were getting darker. ☁️ called the cops, explaining what he had seen and how his friend wasn’t responding. He power-walked his way back to campus as suggested by the dispatcher on the phone, where he met with an officer.
“What do you mean you’re not going in there?! He could be hurt!” ☁️’s eye twitched as another cop pulled to the curb beside the two. The first cop leaned against his car, filling out a packet on a clipboard.
“That property actually belongs to someone, despite it looking abandoned. I’m making your report now, and then we’ll request an emergency warrant.”
“How long will it take?”
“A few hours to a day. This number will give you call with any updates we have of your friend.”
The officer handed ☁️ a small card with a number on it as the second officer approached them.
“It’s being handled.” The first officer stated as he turned to the second, the two then looking at ☁️.
“I’m going to speak to him privately for a moment, we’ll be right back.” The second cop said.
☁️ stood still as the two walked over to the other side of the car. He tried his best to listen in on their conversation, but he once again could only recall certain parts.
“Another missing..” and “could be related to..” with “I know that the warrant … granted, but..”
The boy waited impatiently for them to return, figuring their conversation was referring to the three other students who had also gone missing over the past week. The news spread like wildfire on campus, but the topic quickly faded out of circulation. The paranoia, however, lingered behind.
The officers walked back to where ☁️ stood.
“I’m going to put this in asap, if you have any concerns call the number on the card or the non-emergency number.” The first officer said, him then getting into his car.
“I know this is a tough situation. Do you need a ride home?” The second officer asked, watching as ☁️ looked down and nodded.
Tumblr media
- 2 days later -
“Did they give you an update on the warrant?” Dick continued writing on his small notepad.
“Yes, they said it was approved and that they would send their tactical team in tomorrow morning. I’m just worried that it’s too late.”
“I’m not sure why they waited so long considering there’s been another two students missing since.” Dick placed his head into his fist, clearly thinking out loud. “It’s not a coincidence.”
“Whatever creep is in there probably has my friend..” ☁️ paused, his mouth becoming dry and his head pounding. “Are we done? I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”
“Have you slept since then?”
☁️ was taken aback by the question, but looked up with a monotone gaze, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry.” Dick muttered, him then grabbing the computer from his bag and placing it in front of ☁️.
“No need to be. Is that all?”
“No.”
☁️ exhaled again, hoping to make the cop go away with a harsh tone. “What more do you want?”
“Can you show me where that barn is?”
☁️ gave him a glare, becoming suspicious.
“Are you sure you’re a cop?”
“I showed you my badge, didn’t I?”
“You seem too young.”
“I’m in my early twenties, same as you. I’m only a year or two older.”
“Right..” ☁️ glanced around him. “I think I’ll pass.”
“Do you wanna find your friend or not?”
-
“I’m stopping here. You can see it down that path and behind the trees.” ☁️ turned to Dick, who walked into the middle of the empty road.
“Thank you. I’ll try to investigate tonight.”
☁️ furrowed his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to come back and see if I can find anything.”
“Alone?”
“Probably not.”
“Can I come with?”
Dick turned to the boy.
“Absolutely not.”
“But you’re going.”
“I’m a cop.”
“I still don’t believe you.”
☁️ turned around and walked back around the corner. Dick followed closely behind, choosing to stay silent. As the two walked down the sidewalks in silence, they crossed the street to the GCU. ☁️ stopped as he stepped onto the stone path and turned to Dick.
“So, I’ll see you tonight?”
“Nope. I don’t need another student going missing.” He responded, looking around. “You shouldn’t be alone around campus, anymore. Let me walk you back to your dorm.”
“How’d you know I dormed?”
“I read the report before I came.”
“So you had me re-explain everything even though you knew?” ☁️ scowled at Dick, which seemingly amused him.
“I had to make sure your story matched up with what you told the cops.”
“Hm..”
☁️ took a few steps away from Dick.
“I think I’ll be fine walking alone, I’ll see you tonight.”
“☁️, I’m serious. I shouldn’t have told you-”
“I need to find my friend. Please.” ☁️ turned his back to Dick and motioned him to follow, the two continuing down the path.
“It would be easier to scan the area if you had more people helping.”
“I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is. We don’t know what ‘creeps’ are in there, if they’re affiliated with a crime boss or villain, how many there are, and if your friend is even still inside.” Dick hesitated, continuing, “..I’m going to tell you something confidential, can you promise to not tell anyone?”
☁️ turned to him and nodded, Dick beginning upon observing the gesture.
“Carmine Falcone is livid, and he’s been sending his guys to the area to retrieve his son. From what I’ve heard, his guys have been going missing too. It’s not just students getting picked off. Anybody who’s in the area is… and I’m very surprised nobody’s come to get you yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Considering you pretty much exposed the operation to the police, I expected whoever was behind it to get at you next. To keep you quiet or.. you know.. Which is partially why I’ve come today.”
“You’re confusing me.” ☁️ groaned as the two passed a small group of students. Waiting for the group to gain some distance, ☁️ continued.
“Who are you? Actually.”
“I’m a private investigator. Pretty much a cop.”
“And who hired you?”
“Confidential.”
“Then I guess our conversation ends here. My dorm is down the block. If you find anything, please fine me again.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask for your number. For professional purposes, of course.”
“Oh, sure.” ☁️ smirked, taking Dick’s phone. After typing his number in, he handed the device back.
“Thanks.”
☁️ nodded, walking off. He felt Dick continue behind him, causing the boy to turn around.
“I told you I was fine from here.”
“I know, I just need to go back with you.”
“What? Why?”
“Precautionary measures.”
“For?”
“We’ll see.”
“Dick, I don’t think you need to-”
“I expect someone to be in your dorm. That’s why I insist on going with.”
“You mean my roommate?”
“Don’t you have your own room?”
“How do you know that?”
“Private investigator.”
☁️ huffed and nodded, turning around the corner toward a large beige building of gothic architecture. Dick walked in front of ☁️, opening the glass doors and waiting for him to step through. ☁️ smiled at the gesture, whispering his thanks to the man. Pulling out his student ID from his backpack, ☁️ approached the front desk with Dick not too far behind.
“Hello, this man is another cop. He’s going to inspect my room quickly.”
☁️ watched as Dick took his badge from out of his jacket pocket. He held it over the desk for the front desk lady to see, her then nodding in understanding.
“No problem, I’m just going to need to scan his ID.”
Dick pulled out his ID from his jean pocket, sliding it over to the lady. She took it and placed it over a small black box, it beeping only a second later. She handed the ID to Dick and smiled.
“All good.”
“Thanks.” Dick smiled, following ☁️ across the lobby and to the elevators. Their shoes tapped against the marble floors, ☁️ watching Dick look around from over his shoulder. The two stopped in front of the elevators as ☁️ tapped the button.
“Have you ever been inside this place?” ☁️ asked, Dick continuing to look around.
“Once when I was younger, so it’s been a while. My adopted dad went here and contributes to the school pretty often.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” ☁️ responded. The elevator beeped and opened, the two stepping inside.
The ride was quiet, with ☁️ keeping an eye on Dick. Dick noticed, breaking the silence as they finally had reached the sixth floor.
“Still don’t trust me?”
“That’s right.”
The two strolled down the hall, ☁️ recognizing a classmate he was friends with.
“☁️, hey!” She said, walking up to the two guys.
“Ah, hey. How’re you?”
“Good, how’re you? And who’s this cutie?” She whispered the last question, leaning into ☁️ while looking at Dick. Dick looked away as the two quickly conversed.
“Nobody, he’s just taking a quick look at my room.” He whispered back. The friend gave him a suggestive smirk, which made ☁️ shake his head.
“It’s not like that, he’s a cop.”
“How’d you pull a cop?”
“He’s just so full of charm.” Dick said sarcastically, nudging at ☁️’s arm. Though confused, ☁️ and his friend waved goodbye to each other as they parted ways. Dick and ☁️ continued down the hallway, Dick still gripping the boy’s arm.
“You don’t have to hold my arm anymore.”
“You pulled a cop, remember? Take responsibility.” Dick teased, though the boy smiled and rolled his eyes in response. He pulled away from Dick as he arrived to his door toward the end of the hallway.
“Here we are.” ☁️ said softly, grabbing his keycard from his backpack pocket. As he was about to slide it into the door lock, Dick stopped him.
“Wait, here’re the rules. I walk in first, and you stay three steps behind me. If someone’s in there, just stay back. I’ll take care of them.” Dick whispered, leaning into ☁️.
“You’re awfully confident. And paranoid.” ☁️ whispered back.
“This isn’t my first rodeo.”
☁️ blinked at the comment, ultimately ignoring it. He placed his card into the lock, allowing Dick step in first. ☁️ followed around three feet behind as the two tiptoed into the room. Dick placed his bag down, him then quickly opening the closet in the hallway, with nothing but a few pairs of shoes and jackets inside. He continued slowly, stopping in front of the bathroom door to the right- it slightly ajar. As Dick was about to push it open, a man jumped out and tackled him to the floor. ☁️ fell back in shock, crawling backwards.
Dick used his legs to toss the man off and behind him, quickly standing up. The man did the same, repeatedly lunging at Dick with a shiny object in his hand. Dick smoothly dodged the attacks, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling it, Dick then kneeing him in the stomach. With a swift punch to the temple, the man fell to the ground, unconscious.
Dick hurried back to ☁️, helping him stand up. He looked back, then holding his hand to his lips to keep him quiet. The two continued down the hallway into the tiny kitchen, there luckily being nobody there. Opening the last door down the hall, Dick walked into ☁️’s bedroom. ☁️ remained outside, staring at the unconscious man on the other side of the hall. He turned his attention back to Dick, who looked through his closet and then under his bed. Upon giving the ‘okay,’ he walked back over to ☁️.
“They only sent one goon. That’s rare.” Dick muttered before walking down the hall. ☁️ followed slowly behind him.
“I’m not gonna say I told you so. But..”
“I know, I know. Thank you.”
Dick nodded, walking into the bathroom and turning the light on. ☁️ waited outside again, Dick carrying a duffle bag out only a few seconds later.
“Assuming this isn’t yours?” Dick asked, ☁️ whispering a ‘no.’ He placed the bag beside the man on the floor, Dick then going through his satchel. The man on the floor now had an extremely apparent bruise on his temple, directly under his receding hairline. He wore a plain white tee with a few dirt marks on it, along with dark green cargo pants and big black boots.
Dick hurried to dig through his bag, him pulling a pair of handcuffs out and pushing the guy onto his stomach, handcuffing him. He then checked the guy’s pockets, finding an old smartphone and a walkie talkie. Dick placed both objects into his bag before turning to ☁️.
“Hurry and pack your stuff. You can’t stay here for a while.”
-
Dick had called the cops to take the intruder away as ☁️ followed the small group outside. The officers and Dick carried the man into a cop car, while ☁️ waited outside with a suitcase and his backpack.
Dick walked back to him, a pitiful expression across his face.
“I’m sorry that it has to be like this. It’ll only be until I crack this case.”
“I understand, but where am I going to go?”
“Do you have family in Gotham?”
“If I did I wouldn’t be dorming.”
“Oh, right… Wanna stay with me?”
“Not sure that I’d feel much safer with a mysterious private investigator.”
“Lucky for you, I’ve got a family full of them. I also already told the officers that you said you would.”
☁️ pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.
“Oh don’t give me that look. My family’s very nice.”
“I have no doubt about that. I just don’t wanna be a burden.”
“Oh stop, I’m inviting you.”
☁️ nodded. “Does this mean I can go with you tonight?”
“Still no. I have to make a few calls, just follow behind me.”
The two conversed as they continued through the campus, ☁️ trying to get some information out of Dick.
“So, do you know the cop I spoke to last night? Tim-something?”
“Yes, but it’s complicated.”
“How so?” ☁️ asked, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s not his actual name, and he’s my brother. He uses our other brother’s name when he’s out.”
“That’s.. odd. Is your name actually Richard, then?”
“Yes, I don’t do that. Only they do.”
☁️ nodded in understanding. Dick continued.
“You’re going to love my little brothers. Tim is a genius and the most considerate boy I know. And Damien is very kind-spirited- he’s outspoken and also very observant. You met Jason, already. He’s just a big teddy bear, honestly.”
☁️ raised an eyebrow at the last comment as Dick continued.
“I have other siblings, but they aren’t staying with us at the moment.”
“The Jason I met was big and scary..”
“That’s just ‘cause he’s working. He’s a softie, and he’ll make you laugh a lot when he’s not out.”
☁️ didn’t necessarily believe him, as the Jason he met yesterday was very straightforward with a somewhat aggressive tone.
“Right..”
After that, the conversation ended and the walk was silent once again. The silence didn’t last long, as Dick kept peering over to ☁️.
“So.. since we’re being honest with each other.. Is Alessio really your friend?”
“Yes, we met last semester. I thought that he was an asshole until we worked together on a project. He’s a lot nicer than people say.”
“So you aren’t dating?”
☁️ looked over to Dick, his eye twitching.
“This is the second time you’ve suggested that. What makes you think we’re together?”
“Mm.. just wondering.”
“Did you wanna take me out or something?” ☁️ asked, sarcastically. He smiled and turned to Dick.
“Maybe.”
“Wait, really?”
“You pulled a cop, remember?”
“How long are you gonna hold that against me?”
“Dunno.” Dick shrugged. Now, he was the one to grin at the man next to him.
-
A black SUV pulled beside Dick and ☁️ in the campus’s parking lot. Dick leaned against his motorcycle, still on the phone. Though ☁️ tried his best not to eavesdrop, Dick had called a man named Alfred to pick him up. Then, he called someone named Bruce, explaining ☁️’s situation in soft whispers. Now, he was on the phone with Jason, who seemed to be giving Dick a hard time. ☁️ only heard bits of the conversation.
An older man got out of the black SUV and opened the trunk, Dick gesturing for ☁️ to walk over to him.
“Hello, Mr. ☁️, right?”
“Yes, hello.” ☁️ said, watching the man take his suitcase and gently place it into the vehicle.
“What’s your name?”
“Please call me Alfred.”
☁️ nodded, watching as Alfred walked past him and opened the backseat door. He pointed inside, ☁️ saying a ‘thank you’ and stepping inside with his backpack around his shoulder. Alfred closed the door, approaching Dick as he hung up the phone. The two conversed for a few seconds before Alfred walked back alone, stepping into the vehicle.
“Master Dick has some errands to run before he joins you at the manor. He should be back shortly after you arrive.” Alfred explained as he started the car engine.
“Okay.” ☁️ said dully, watching out of the window as Dick sped away on his motorcycle.
Alfred and ☁️ conversed for the entirety of the ride, with the boy explaining his peculiar situation. After a few minutes, the vehicle pulled up to a set off tall, black gate doors. The estate fencing spread far down the road, with a sharp point on each post top- the bottom end going through lined brick along the ground.
Alfred pulled out his phone, the tall gate doors opening moments later. He turned his gaze to ☁️ in the rear-view mirror, ☁️ unintentionally returning the gaze as the man drove into the property. He drove down a stone path lined by large bushes before turning slightly, a mansion of brown and blacks now in view.
“Master Dick volunteered the manor as your safe house as opposed to a protective custody facility. There must be something very special about you, Mr. ☁️.”
☁️ felt as though his tone was rather suggestive, but nodded and smiled as Alfred parked the car.
The two got out, Alfred opening the trunk and grabbing ☁️’s suitcase. They then proceeded up the steps, with the door opening as soon as Alfred placed the suitcase back onto the ground. ☁️ peaked from behind him, seeing a tall man with black hair and a scar on lip in the doorframe. It was Tim- or rather- Jason, the cop who ☁️ spoke to yesterday.
“I’ll take it, Alfred.” Jason said, picking the suitcase up as if it weight nothing.
“Master Jason will take you to your room.”
“Thank you.” ☁️ turned from Alfred to Jason, who began walking into the manor and toward the double staircase. ☁️ followed closely behind, the size of the home making him feel small. The two walked up the left side of the staircase in silence. Upon reaching the top, Jason placed the suitcase down softly and turned to ☁️.
“Hi. I know we met before and it’s weird seeing me again. My name’s actually Jason, my brother is Tim-“
“I know, Dick told me about it.” ☁️ interrupted with a gentle tone, saving Jason the explanation.
“What else did he tell you?” Jason asked as he began down the hallway.
“You’re both private investigators. And that you’re a ‘big teddy bear’ apparently.”
Jason scoffed at the comment, a smirk forming on his face.
“Do you think I’m a ‘big teddy bear?’” Jason turned to him as he stopped at a door to his right. He pushed it open, dragging ☁️’s suitcase inside.
“More of just big.” ☁️ muttered, looking him up and down- Jason wearing a white shirt with wrinkled black jeans, his hair just as messy as it was yesterday. He was taller than Dick, but his muscles could be seen from his clothing just the same. Jason heard ☁️’s response and tried not to look offended.
“I mean in a.. muscular way..” ☁️ said, walking in front of him to look at the room.
“Wow..” Jason responded sarcastically.
The room was large with walls of maroon and gold accents. A wardrobe, dressers, a nightstand, and the bed frame were all a dark brown wood material. The ceiling was white, as were the window frames. Wooden flooring reflected a light brown, though it didn’t creak as ☁️ walked across it.
“This was my room, but I don’t mind you staying in it for a bit. The sheets are clean and the dresser next to the bed is empty, so you can put your clothes in it.”
“Where are you going to sleep, then?” ☁️ asked, turning to face him.
“The couch. I have my own place- I’ve just been staying here for the past few days to deal with.. y’know.. your case.”
“I don’t think I understand, but I don’t want to take your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” ☁️ said, grabbing his suitcase handle and dragging it toward the door. Jason stepped in front of him, blocking the doorway.
“I don’t mind. Unless you want to take Dick’s room. He’s got a thing for you, and if you don’t feel the same way, I think that’d be a little awkward.”
☁️ looked away from Jason, and smiled.
“I do, just a bit. He’s cute, but I barely know him.”
“He’s dated, like, three people in his entire life. I don’t think you have much to worry about.”
☁️ nodded as Jason moved out of his way.
“It’s the next door down. I’ll wash his sheets for you.”
“Thanks.”
Tumblr media
Moonlight emitted through the room windows, illuminating the bed in which ☁️ sat on.
Dick’s room was comfortable and just as large as Jason’s. He visited ☁️ shortly after the boy arrived at the manor, obviously pleased to see the ☁️ in his bed. Not too long after, Alfred gave him a tour of the home, introducing him to the Wayne Manor. Both surprised and intimated to be in the Bruce Wayne’s house, ☁️ remained in the room to avoid meeting more of Dick’s family.
After falling asleep in Dick’s bed, it was now nighttime. ☁️ grabbed his phone from the nightstand, pulling up the man’s ‘Hey, this is Dick.’ message. He noticed that it was around 11pm as he began typing.
‘Hey, are you still going back there tonight?’
He placed the phone in his pocket and walked to the door, peaking out to make sure nobody was around. He silently wandered down the hallway and to the railing between the set of stairs, finding Alfred dusting the shelves below him. He walked down, watching as Alfred turned in his direction. ☁️ approached him.
“Hey Mr. Alfred. Do you know where Dick is?”
“I’m sorry, you missed him. Master Dick left an hour ago.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“He said it was ‘confidential.’”
☁️ furrowed his eyebrows, contemplating on whether or not Dick went back to that barn.
“Actually, Mr. ☁️, Master Dick informed me that you had hoped to join him tonight. He gave me specific orders to keep you inside- it seemed he did not want you leaving due to safety concerns.”
Annoyed, ☁️ pursed his lips. “Oh.. I understand. Thank you.”
Alfred nodded. “While you slept we had dinner, and I packed some food away for you. It’s in the fridge, please help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
☁️ nodded again, thanking Alfred as he walked down the hallway and toward the kitchen. Jason was in there, running around the island as he rushed passed ☁️. Upon realizing that ☁️ was behind him, he quickly turned back around.
“Hey ☁️, did Dick reach out to you in the past hour?”
☁️ shook his head. “Alfred basically said he left to the barn an hour ago.”
Jason nodded, about to turn around before ☁️ began grilling him.
“Why? Is he there? Is he okay?”
“..Confidential. I might have to head over there as well.” Jason said, not looking ☁️ in the eye.
“Why does everybody keep saying that to me? Take me with.”
“I can’t.”
“Jason, please. I want to help.”
“Help by not getting yourself killed.” Jason said, pulling out his phone as it buzzed. He read the words on the screen before looking up at ☁️.
“Actually, I’ll have a friend pick you up. Be ready in 10 mins. To avoid anybody seeing you, climb out the window and use the gutter to get to the ground. Walk across the garden and use the bird bath next to the gate to jump over it. Walk around and meet him in front of the entrance.”
“Gonna assume you’ve done that before?”
“Many times.” Jason said before smiling and rushing out of sight. A skeptical Alfred peaked from down the hall, forcing ☁️ to return to the kitchen. He grabbed a fruit and quickly ate it before walking back to his room. He threw on a black sweater and zipped it up, him then opening Dick’s window and climbing out. The night’s cool air brushed against ☁️’s face almost immediately, with the sounds of crickets and leaves swishing together filling the air.
‘I’m an idiot for doing this- trusting these people and going back to that place. But I really need to know what’s in there. I need to see it for myself.’ ☁️ thought to himself as he carefully slid down the gutter, trying to make his escape a silent one. He ran across the grass through a garden of large bushes and flowers, finding the bird bath Jason had mentioned. He climbed on top of it, leaning forward and grasping the side of a post’s sharp point. Leaning forward, he hoisted himself over the gate, barely grazing the posts’ sharp tips. ☁️ bracing for impact, he landed on his knees and elbows. He brushed himself off, and then ran along the gate. Cutting around the corner, he found a pair of glowing red eyes piercing through him. The Red Hood was waiting for him.
“Get on.” Red Hood instructed, his voice deep and synthetic.
☁️ hurried over to the motorcycle Red Hood sat on, holding onto his waist as the two sped off into the night.
Tumblr media
likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
a/n: i’ve been itching to do a dc fic :,) ik this isn’t usually what i write, but thx for giving it a chance ! <3
Tumblr media
369 notes · View notes
g1rld1ary · 4 months
Text
do i make you nervous? - elle greenaway x fem!reader
cw: she/her pronouns, typical cm violence, petnames
wc: 1115
being stuck in a police station for six hours was not on your bingo card for the day. to be fair, it wasn't really on the bingo card for your year either. you were a good girl, you never broke the rules, you certainly didn't break the law. so, you'd never pictured yourself needing to be trapped under fluorescent lights waiting to talk to police officers, except for your bad luck in being caught in an almost violent bank hold-up.
not only that, of the many witnesses you were probably last in line, having to wait through hours of people going in and out of the tiny interview room. most of them left in tears, which really wasn't helping your nerves.
you'd resigned to your daydreams to pass the time; you'd finished the book from your purse hours ago and you could only play snake for so long. that was why you jumped violently when a hand lay on your shoulder, ripping you from your daydream. above you, the prettiest woman you'd ever seen was trying to hold back a laugh.
"i didn't mean to scare you," she said, and you found yourself smiling back at her. "just wanted to check if you wanted some water, pretty girl." sure enough she had offered a plastic cup toward you. you stared at it for a second before remembering your manners.
"oh! thanks, that's really nice of you." the woman shook her head.
"least we could do after keeping you here for so long. you come get me if you need anything else." you managed to nod and produce what you hoped was a smile despite your daze at the gorgeous woman.
you only waited for twenty more minutes after that before a man came out to get you.
"i'm derek morgan, special agent in the FBI. we just want to ask you some questions. i know the interrogation room looks scary, but we promise you're not in trouble. we just have to take what we can get in a precinct this small."
"i don't think anyone anticipated having this many witnesses in at once," you added, finding it much easier to talk to derek than the woman before. you didn't want to think about why that was.
it was straight to business once in the interrogation room. it was cold, like all the life had been sucked out of it. if you weren't already scared of the law you would have gone straight to avoid needing to return.
inside the room was the woman from before. you sucked in a nervous breath as you sat across from her, trying to split your looks evenly between her and morgan.
the woman finally introduced herself as ssa elle greenaway, and shook your hand in a way that had you weak in the knees. after the basic formalities, the two started asking you questions.
"alright, we'll start easy and warm you up to it. why were you at the bank this morning?"
"i'm moving into my first apartment in a few weeks. i lived on campus all of college and then stayed with my parents for a year or two as i was getting my career started. because i have no history of renting i had to sort out some papers and records with the bank and lucky me i chose today." both the agents made noises of sympathy.
"congratulations on moving out," elle said warmly, "too bad it's delayed by some maniac. do you remember seeing him walk in?"
you recounted the day in as much detail as you could remember, staring at your hands as you spoke. you were so anxious. all you could feel were eyes; morgan, elle, and you didn't know how many people could be observing you from behind the mirror. that, plus the trauma of being threatened with a gun hours before caught up to you all at once and you couldn't help the hot tears sitting on your waterline. both agents stopped at that, giving you a breather.
"morgan, think you can give us a minute?" elle said, not taking her eyes off of you. derek raised an eyebrow but agreed nonetheless, leaving the two of you alone.
elle grabbed your hands, holding them in hers over the table between you.
"let's slow down, just breathe, pretty girl." she forced you into silence for a few moments and you let your breathing fall into sync with hers.
"sorry," you said when you were mostly calm, "i'm really nervous."
"you've got nothing to be nervous about, baby, you haven't done anything wrong." god, you wanted to combust. this stunning woman was being so nice, holding your hands and calling you pet names, you couldn't handle it. she must have noticed your eyes trained on where you hands met -- unsurprising, you weren't being subtle -- and her soft expression turned into something of a smirk. "do i make you nervous?"
you nodded, almost imperceptibly, but elle's eyes were only on you. she couldn't contain her amusement, and you couldn't tell if you were offended that she was teasing you.
the rest of the interview was easier after elle knew the effect she had on you, eventually leaving derek as the sole agent when it got down to the facts you really needed to think about. although you knew it was necessary for the sake of the case, you were upset it meant you couldn't admire her more.
"we'll call you if we need anything else." derek walked you to the door, all smiles. you thanked him and assured him you'd be willing to give whatever the FBI needed.
just as you were descending the outdoor steps to the car park, you heard a heavy set of footsteps behind you. turning quickly, you were relieved to see elle following you. you gripped the strap of your purse nervously as you waited for her to speak.
"if you think of anything else, anything else you wanted to tell me, just reach out," she said, handing you a card. just as you opened your mouth to thank her she spoke again, "maybe you can start with where you got your jeans, your ass is irresistible." you could feel your flush hot on your cheeks as you mumbled some sort of goodbye, all but running to your car to scream.
safely at home, you could think more clearly, not hesitating to start composing a text message, including the brand of your jeans with a cheeky smiley face.
158 notes · View notes
sleepysnk · 1 year
Text
a/n: okay.. i never thought i’d ever write for wakasa, but this idea came to me and i couldn’t let it slide. shoutout to @wakashawty for being the sole reason why i did this. i love you kei bae! 🤍 i hope you guys all enjoy <3
pairings: wakasa imaushi x fem!reader
warnings: modern au, alcohol consumption (wakasa), mentions of harassment, club owner!wakasa, waitress!reader, use of cigarettes, very flirty wakasa, nsfw, smut, fingering, use of pet names (angel, doll, baby, good girl, princess), teasing, brief edging, use of blindfolds, consensual recording, possessive sex, mentions of jealousy, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, choking, mentions of marks.
synopsis: you work as a waitress at the infamous club owned by wakasa imaushi. you hadn’t encountered the man ever in your entire time employed there, but one night you had a chance encounter with the owner looking for something other than your professional service.
the white leopard ft. wakasa imaushi
Tumblr media
The White Leopard.
The infamous club that was located in the downtown of your city, and owned by a man named Wakasa Imaushi. The club had opened its doors just two years prior. It was well known amongst older adults and some older college kids as a hang out spot to get drunk, and hookup with men or women on the weekends. Many fine businessmen from the city often flocked to the place to grab a drink or meet pretty women to tuck away in their beds. With businessmen, came wealthy evenings for the people who worked at the establishment. Some of the bartenders went home with hundred dollar bills in their pockets from how active the nights would be. It was a truly luxurious club, despite what may have gone down on the inside.
You weren’t sure how you managed to snatch a job at the place, but you somehow did. 
You had been employed at The White Leopard for almost six months. One of your friends recommended you the job when she had heard about your termination from your previous job. At first, you thought you were about to become some kind of stripper. The idea of possibly twirling and swinging around on a metal pole made your skin crawl, but when your friend explained that you would be a waitress, that gross feeling dissipated from your mind. You had never worked a server job before. All of your previous positions had to do with retail or working as a barista at your local coffee shop. You had the customer service experience, but being a waitress sounded quite nerve wracking. 
Though, you didn’t have much of a choice. You lived by yourself with bills that had to be paid, and you were also still a college student. There was no possible way that you would be able to support yourself with no job, so you filled out the application and received a call back the next day for an interview. 
After that day, you began working at the fine club. You had heard many people on your university campus boasting about how exhilarating it is to party at The White Leopard, and from working there as long as you did, you could completely understand why they said those things. The place really kept up its reputation. Anytime you stepped inside, you could practically smell the whiff of money and expensive cologne that probably was worth more than your college tuition and rent combined. Being there was great, though. The job was just as you imagined it to be. Taking drink orders, assisting guests with questions, all the usual things a server would take care of. 
The weekdays were always pretty slow. Monday through Thursday were always the days you would go home with the least amount of cash, but occasionally you would have a decent night if there was some kind of important business being held by the businessmen who visited the club. The real action was on Friday and the weekends. Those were the busiest evenings, considering that most people didn’t have work or school to attend the next day. The very first time you worked a Friday night you swore to god that your pockets were overflowing with cash. Your coworker, Yuzuha, had informed you of how easy the men were with money during the night. She was right about that. You’d come back to tables with almost two hundred dollars in tips, sitting right in the center. It was so quick to make money that you never passed on a shift like that again, except if you weren’t placed on the schedule.
While it seemed like paradise, there were downsides to your job.
With being a waitress, came the idiots who never seemed to know how to treat wait staff. You had to deal with all kinds of people and witness all types of things all while at work. There were several occasions where grown men have shouted in your face and called you a whore for not serving their drinks quick enough. Some of the men inside of the club had said disgusting things to you as well. You’ve been harassed frequently by intoxicated guys that just couldn’t take no for an answer. You were thankful that security took care of it, but those kinds of words often lingered inside your mind and made you want to quit altogether. 
The issues didn’t stem from just men, there were also incredibly rude women as well. Many times random girls would accuse you of trying to seduce their boyfriends when you were simply just leaning over to hear them better. The music inside the club was deafening at times, and it didn’t help that some of the tables were directly by huge speakers that made it very difficult to hear the customers. You’ve also had girls dump drinks on you for no apparent reason. As much as you wanted to verbally tell them off, you remembered that you had a job and you weren’t in the mood to get fired. Your manager told you many times that you should never engage in an argument with a customer. It was bothersome, very bothersome, but you always bit your tongue and put a smile on your face. 
Besides some of those negative things, you still kept the job. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Plus, you got to work with some pretty kind people. Your coworkers were the only reason you hadn’t completely abandoned the job all together. That, and the fact that you made lots of money within just one week.
There was one person you had yet to see at your job, and that was the owner. Wakasa Imaushi was his name. 
You had been employed there for six months. Yet, you never had a single encounter with the man who opened the club all that time ago. Some of your coworkers had seen the man before and described him as this intimidating figure who would come in to have a drink or two, then leave with his buddies. Your female coworkers often raved about Wakasa. They said he was very handsome and they had even seen him leave with women from the club. Part of you envied the people you worked with. Seeing Wakasa in all his glory sounded like a total dream. You tried to go to the lengths of finding his social media. Surely a club owner like him would have business profiles, but much to your dismay, there wasn’t a single trace of this man’s existence on the internet. You could understand if he wanted to be private with his life, but not even a proper photograph? It was odd.
Maybe there would be a chance for you to properly meet him, but with his rarity of appearances, that seemed highly unlikely. 
Tonight was a usually busy shift for you. Being that it was a Friday evening, you expected such an exciting atmosphere from the moment you stepped in for work. It was a pretty nice night for you. So far, you had made about three hundred dollars worth of tips. 
Your shift had begun at six thirty and it was already nearing midnight. Your manager informed you that you only had to work for another fifteen minutes or so. You were kind of thankful for that, because the later hours of the night kind of got crazy. That also meant you got to go home early and retire for the evening in your comfortable bed. You had a fairly long day at school. Exams were kicking your ass and with studying and working you hardly had any time to get any shut eye. Tonight had also been pretty tiring, despite nothing serious going down. You still dealt with weird comments from drunk men that couldn’t keep it to themselves.
You were standing in the corner of the club where the cash register was. You had just closed out one of your tables and you were currently counting how much money you had. The clock displayed on your phone screen showed that it was now midnight. You were relieved to know that you would be able to go home soon. Your feet were killing you from the amount of standing and walking you did today. 
Sighing, you placed the cash into the pocket of your blouse. This is usually what you did towards the end of your shifts. You’d just stand in the corner until it was time for you to clock out. Your manager was okay with it, but sometimes he would remind you that not doing anything could get you into trouble. However, why would some drunk man come bombarding you with questions as to why you were standing there. Most of the people in this club came here to do whatever they pleased. You’ll never forget the time you caught two people having sex in the restroom. It was honestly mind blowing, but at least you had a funny story to tell whenever you were out and about with someone. 
You stood there on your cell phone. You scrolled through your socials, smiling at the posts your friends had made. You had the day off tomorrow, so you were pretty excited to make plans with your companions. The semester had been grueling and you were so ready to have a night out with zero stressors weighing on your mind.
“Oh! There you are, (Y/N)!”
You practically fumbled with your phone to shove it into your waistband. The familiar voice of your manager was the reason for your mindless scrolling to be placed on pause. Although he was a nice man, he had a pet peeve for staff using their cellphones in the middle of their shifts. There were a few times you had gotten caught on the job and you’d rather not get fired for something as small as a cellphone issue, so you listened to the man. “O-Oh, hey, Kakucho, what’s up?” you shifted around, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being caught by him.
The man placed his hand on his hip. He seemed rather unamused by seeing you on your phone, but that wasn’t much of a concern to him at the moment. He had a much greater worry at hand, and he needed your assistance with that. “I know this might be a lot to ask.. but can you stay a little longer? We have a guest coming and it’s important we have someone on the ready when he arrives.” he looked down at you, seeming desperate for your presence to remain at the club. “He’s quite.. a significant individual.” 
A sense of dread washed over you at his words. You were exhausted. You were surprised that you didn’t possibly fall asleep in the break room. Kakucho had asked you to do this many times before. Any time there was a big figure coming to The White Leopard, he’d ask a select few of servers to stick around after their shifts. You were used to that question being proposed often, but tonight? He must have been desperate, considering Yuzuha and Emma had been still there. He even gave you the go ahead to leave early, so that felt kind of unfair to you. It was almost like Kakucho was playing some sick joke on you to poke fun at you. All you wanted to do was go home and rest. If he would have asked another evening, sure, but tonight? It seemed out of the question.
You sighed, looking up at your manager with obvious frustration. Kakucho could easily see it in your expression. “I’m exhausted.. I know that’s not much of an excuse, but still. You also told me I could head home early, so why the sudden change of heart?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 
Kakucho combed his fingers through his jet-black hair. He understood your feelings of tiredness and desire to go home for the evening. He also did have a sense of guilt for informing you earlier that you could leave early, but he wasn’t expecting to receive a phone call from Shinichiro so late in the night. It was a rare occasion. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), it’s just Yuzuha and Emma are booked with tables right now. You’re the only one who doesn’t have a single one, and I’d rather provide the utmost service for our guest.” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “I promise you’ll be paid extra for this.. I just really need you right now. I’ll even give you the entire weekend off.” 
You wondered if staying behind would be a good idea. Your eyes wandered to your coworkers who were practically bouncing around the lively club with drinks in their hands. Kakucho was right. Yuzuha and Emma had their hands full with customers, and your departure would only build onto the stress they were experiencing. It would be very unfair for you to completely dip without at least offering some help. Kakucho also promised more money on your next check and the entire weekend off. 
Sighing, you averted your gaze onto your employer who seemed a little antsy. You could read him like a book and his body language was the words inside it. It made you wonder who this guest was. “Fine.. I’ll stay.” his face lit up with relief, but also excitement at your response. “But, who’s the guest? Is it Hanma Shuji again?” 
“No, um, it’s Wakasa Imaushi.”
All of your blood went cold at the name that rolled off of Kakucho’s lips. Wakasa Imaushi was making an appearance tonight? And you had to be the one who served him and whoever else came with him? Your heart rate began to spike at the thought of waiting his table. You had been working this job for months and you honestly still felt like you were a newbie at times. Sure, you had served highly entitled men like Hanma Shuji or even Manjiro Sano at one point, but the club’s owner? That’s something you never imagined you’d have the opportunity to do. You had heard plenty of stories from your coworkers, but even that didn’t give you enough confidence. What if he was a poor customer to you? You had heard plenty of horror stories from other waitresses on owners who were complete assholes to the staff because of their status. What if Wakasa was the same? You would hate to possibly make a negative impression on the man who owned The White Leopard.
You tried to look on the bright side. Your coworkers had never said anything pessimistic about the man, and you guys often spoke about your negative experiences with customers. If Wakasa was one of those bad apples, you would have surely heard about it by now. Though, that was their experiences, not yours. He could be a complete jackass for all you knew.
Trying to calm yourself, you looked at Kakucho who was still staring at you. He seemed to be waiting for your reply about his mention of Wakasa swinging by the club. You weren’t sure what there was to say, but you had to come up with something. “Wakasa..?! Kakucho, can’t you ask one of the other girls? I don’t even know what he likes or what he’s even like as a person!” you started to panic a little, despite not wanting to. You didn’t like the idea of serving a man you had never met before. 
Kakucho placed his hands onto your shoulders. He could sense your anxiety and wanted to make sure you were relaxed before Wakasa arrived. The last thing he’d want is for you to have a meltdown and risk embarrassing yourself in front of the man. He had lots of confidence in you. “Hey, don’t panic, okay? Just treat him like a regular customer. All of his drinks are being pre made right now, so you just have to introduce yourself and just serve his drinks. He’s not a bad guy, (Y/N). Just play it casual,” he rubbed his thumbs on your skin, which somewhat calms you down. Though, that furious beat of your heart was making itself known within your chest.
You shook your head, feeling stupid enough to accept his offer of staying late. In all honesty, you should have just lied to Kakucho and said you had a headache so he’d let you leave. It didn’t seem like there was any other choice, nor could you go back now. Wakasa was on his way, and you doubted Kakucho would let you go after this. It didn’t matter how hard you may have protested. “Ugh.. fine, just let me know when he arrives.” you glanced over at the multi-colored strobe lights that danced along the walls. 
He nodded at you, tapping your arm as a way to reassure you that everything would be fine. “You got it. Thank you again for this. Wakasa will be here in a few minutes.” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see his messages. 
He then turned and left you there, disappearing into the darkness of the club. You let out an anxious sigh and rubbed your hands on your temples. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening to you right now. To be honest, you didn’t think your evening would have been like this. You thought that you would have gone back to your apartment and crashed into your bed with a nice day upcoming tomorrow. You never imagined that you would be serving Wakasa Imaushi of all people. Hell, you didn’t even know what the hell he looked like. For all you knew, Wakasa could be this forty year old man who would call you a dumb brat for not bringing his drink fast enough. You really hoped that wasn’t who he was. 
You stood there for a while. Well, it felt like you had been there for a while, but in reality only three minutes had gone by. You disliked feeling anxious over crap this small. Kakucho told you to treat him like a regular customer, but that was difficult considering that Wakasa wasn’t just an ordinary person. He owned The White Leopard. It wasn’t like he was the son of the owner or something. You had to play it cool and be as proper as you possibly could. Any kind of slip up or inappropriate action could lead to your job being lost within the snap of a finger. You prayed and prayed that it would go smoothly, and he’d be a respectful man.
Ugh, you were going insane.
Your head instantly turned when you felt a palm connect with your shoulder. Your eyes were faced with the sight of Kakucho who seemed a little more stern now. He must have been nervous as well. Sure, he was your boss, but Kakucho’s boss was probably Wakasa. “He’s here.. those three drinks are his.” your eyes shifted towards the bar where there were three different glasses sitting on a tray. “He’s in the fourth booth on the main floor. Make sure to introduce yourself and bring the drinks with you. If he asks for me, you grab me immediately, okay?”
You swallowed thickly at Kakucho’s descriptive instructions. This was serious shit now. You were about to encounter the owner you had never come across in your life. “Okay.. I will.” you then walked past your manager and stepped towards the bar where the trio of drinks were. Your eyes settled on the glasses that were sweating from the condensation. The beverages almost seemed equivalent, considering their color was the exact same. It had to be some kind of rich whisky, judging by the odor of the alcohol. You were never really a fan of those stronger liquors. They made your mouth burn and it was just too heavy for your taste.
You took in a deep breath, then lifted the tray with the drinks on them. Your body turned around and began to walk towards the main floor of the club. You tried your best to not tremble or shake the tray in your hands, because you didn’t need to embarrass yourself in front of Wakasa. You also didn’t want to lose your employment because of some stupid mistake. You were silently telling yourself that you’d be okay and all you had to do was serve them every so often. There was no conversation, small talk, none of that. You just had to be polite and do your job as a waitress. 
You reached the stairs that led to the main floor of the club. The amount of bodies in the room began to increase now. The music had also become louder since the DJ was centered on the main floor. Many people passed by you as you stepped down the stairs. The aroma’s ranged from cheap perfume to the thick smell of marijuana. It was amazing what people could get away with in such a luxurious club. You would think the rules would be more strict, but it was far from that. 
“Fourth booth on the main floor.”
Your eyes scanned the many booths that were pressed against the right wall of the club. People who usually came in trios or groups often sat in those spots. There were already multiple abundances of people who had occupied those seats. You counted each one inside your brain until your eyes halted on the fourth booth. You weren’t sure which one was Wakasa, but the men sitting in the booth intimidated you to all hell. It made you hesitate for a brief second, but you had to do your job. You sucked in a breath and walked over to the table where the three men were sitting. As soon as you stood in front of the table, their conversation halted and they stared at you with those eyes. 
You took in the sight of the three. The man on the far left had jet-black hair that somewhat covered his eyes. A silver chain was hung around his neck and he wore a plain white button up shirt with dark pants. He seemed much friendlier compared to the other two. 
The man in the middle was the real eye catcher in your opinion. He had blonde and violet hair that was thrown up in a ponytail. Two thick strands of his hair hung over his eyes like a curtain. His eyes were lazy and the color of amethyst. There was a cigarette that was tucked between his teeth. The end was smoldering and seemed to be just recently lit. There were a plethora of tattoos that painted his arms and upwards on his chest. His outfit consisted of a similar one to the man to his left. A white button up and black pants. The only difference was he wore a tie, while the other didn’t. He had to be one of the most attractive men you had ever laid your eyes upon. There was this mysterious aura that seemed to be attached to the man sitting in front of you. Could that be.. Wakasa Imaushi? You had no idea. 
The man on your right was much bigger than the two men beside him. He had muscles that practically bulged out of the black button up shirt he was wearing. If he moved the wrong way, you were certain one of the buttons might fly off and hit someone in the head. He had a beard that was the same exact color of his pale hair. He seemed very menacing compared to the other two men. He seemed like the kind of guy who could crush your skull in if you stared at him the wrong way.
Snapping out of your mini analysis, you picked up the drinks one by one off of the tray. You leaned down and placed them each in front of the men sitting before you. “Hi there, welcome in! My name is (Y/N). I hope you all are having a great evening. If you need anything, I’ll be your server for tonight!” you tucked the small tray underneath your arm, trying your absolute best to seem unphased by their appearance. You had met plenty of attractive men inside The White Leopard before, but this was something else.
The male who sat in the center of the booth leaned forward. His sleeves were rolled up, giving you a whole view of the ink that trailed up his forearms. He stuck out his hand in your direction, looking up at you. “Wakasa Imaushi, pleasure to meet you.” his voice was smooth like butter. It sent chills ghosting down your spine from how nice it settled within your ears. You were right about him. “These are my friends, Shinichiro Sano and Keizo Arashi, but you can just call him Benkei for short.”
You made eye contact with him for a brief second, but immediately shifted your gaze away. His hues were so pretty, but the way he looked at you made your body feel hot. Wakasa Imaushi was what every woman cracked him up to be. He had to be a model or something with how perfect his features were. His smaller nose, lips that were just the perfect shade of pink, and eyelashes that could make any girl jealous. What a man. You reached forward, shaking his hand. His palm felt soft and quite warm against your chilled one. “It’s an h-honor to meet you, Mr.Imaushi!” you internally yelled at yourself for stuttering in front of such a high individual. You hoped deep down he didn’t notice your fumble of words.
Wakasa chuckled at your politeness. Not many people addressed him as “Mr.Imaushi” except for other coworkers, but seeing it from one of the staff was a surprise. He hadn’t met many people like that before, so it easily caught his attention. “Please, no need to be formal. Just call me Wakasa,” he reassured, removing his hand from yours to hold the glass that sat just a few inches from his body. “Thank you for your service. If we need anything, we’ll be sure to look for you, doll.”
You almost choked on your own saliva when the word “doll” slipped from his lips. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but also from being incredibly flustered with how kind he was to you. You weren’t sure if this was possibly a facade he had thrown on, but it was making you melt. In all honesty, you could listen to this man sweet talk you all damn day. He was quite the charmer. “O-Of course! I’ll be around!” you gave one more smile, then began to walk away from the table. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest from what had gone down. Wakasa completely blew you away from just a few sentences. Did he understand his impacts on women? 
You walked up the steps that led to where the bar was. In the distance, you could see Yuzuha in the corner where the tablet was to register tables and take care of bills. She seemed to be counting some of the cash in her fingertips. You made your way over to her and she instantly noticed your presence beside her. “Hey! I thought you left already. Are you clocking out right now?” she nodded her head to the side.
You reached over to type in your passcode for the tablet. You remembered Kakucho being very serious about entering your tables at the proper time. “Kakucho made me stay.. and you’ll never guess who the hell I’m serving right now.” you tapped the screen a few times to enter the drinks into the bill. You weren’t too sure on if Wakasa and his friends were going to pay for what they ordered, but you’d make sure to double check with Kakucho because it would seem rude to bring a bill to the same man who owned the club.
Yuzuha’s eyebrow arched at your words. She didn’t know of any important people coming to The White Leopard that night, so it seemed rather intriguing to her. “Who? Is it someone high up?” she questioned, sounding curious.
You moved your arm away and placed it on the small table underneath you. “It’s Wakasa Imaushi..” you replied, which shocked Yuzuha.
She was genuinely caught off guard by the owner’s sudden presence at the club. Yuzuha had been working there longer than you have, but she had never had the chance to properly serve Wakasa due to his infrequency of presentation at the place. She was well aware of what he was like to the other staff. Most claimed he was respectful and usually tipped pretty well, but she had yet to see the man in full action. “What?! No way! That’s awesome, I bet he’s a great guy considering what he does.” she tapped your arm to try and excite you. “He scares me though.. I could never serve him without dropping the drinks on the floor.” 
You had to agree with her there. So far, Wakasa seemed like a pleasant individual. There haven’t been any red flags and you usually picked up on customer’s vibes whenever they first sat down, but his didn’t seem bad whatsoever. His friends also didn’t look too harsh either. “Yeah, I almost lost it when I walked over to his table, but otherwise he’s been fine. I just have to keep an eye on him..” you quickly darted your head outside of your corner to see if there was that “look” on their faces, but as far as you could see, his friends seemed content in their spots. 
Your coworker giggled at your reply. Yuzuha leaned against the wall for a brief moment to collect her thoughts. It had been a long evening for her as well. She made good money, but she was physically exhausted with all of the running around she had to do. “I’m wishing you serious luck, (Y/N). I have almost four tables right now and I don’t think they’ll leave until we close..” she rubbed her tired eyes with her hands. 
You could honestly feel her pain. There were times where you didn’t leave until almost four in the morning because the customer’s you were serving just kept ordering drinks like they were food. It was an annoying experience because you lost out on so much needed sleep, and you didn’t wake up until noon the next day. You hoped that deep down Wakasa wasn’t the same way. If he was, you’d have a bone to pick with the owner of this club. “I’m wishing you luck too, Yuzuha!” you gave her a thumbs up, then poked your head out once again to check on the things at your table. 
Confusion settled within you when you saw that both of Wakasa’s companions had somehow disappeared. They were no longer in their seats and it made you grow worried. You doubted that this was a “drink and dash” type of situation, but you prayed that they weren’t out and about looking for you since you had departed earlier. There was an occasion about four months in which a man came storming up to you all because you didn’t come by fast enough with his drink. You were lucky that Yuzuha’s brother, Hakkai, was there to come to your defense over the matter. That thought alone worried you. It risked many things, and you didn’t want to be at fault for not paying proper attention to your table.
Your vision shifted to Yuzuha who was seemingly looking around at the bar. She was waiting for some of her drinks to be made at the moment. “Hey, I’m gonna be right back.” you said, nodding your head in the opposite direction. 
You then began making your way to where Wakasa’s booth was. Nervousness coursed through your veins as you grew closer to where he was. Your fingers couldn’t help but toy with the white leopard that was embroidered on your onyx colored skirt. Your worst fear right now was being scolded by Wakasa himself. You had only walked away for a good three or four minutes. It’d be even more alarming if you had disappeared for longer than that, but you remembered Kakucho explaining to you that you had to be on top of your service when it came to Wakasa. It was understandable. Could you have messed up already? You worried Kakucho was going to find out and potentially terminate your employment. 
Once you made it to the main floor, your feet moved quickly to the booth where Wakasa was sitting. Relief hit you like a truck when your eyes landed on the man who was still in the direct center of the table. He was still present, but that same question remained. Where were his buddies? 
Wakasa picked up on your presence expectantly. He could sense some distress in your body language, which perplexed the man in front of you. There wasn’t anything to be nervous about in his opinion. Though, it was somewhat worrying on his part. His club was always heavily guarded by high profile men, but there have been a few occasions where something unfortunate had gone down. “Everything alright, (Y/N)?” Wakasa questioned, placing his cigarette into the ashtray that was a few inches away from him.
His inquiry made your eyes focus on him. One thing about Wakasa was that he had this stare that made your body feel like it was burning. It was like he was studying you and his eyes were penetrating the deepest areas of you. You could hardly maintain eye contact without your heart leaping outside of your chest. He was attractive, so fucking attractive. It was still hard to believe that this was the man who owned The White Leopard. He was dreamy. You could get lost with him right in front of you. 
However, you remembered that he asked you a question. You must have been staring for far too long, because Wakasa seemed to be a little confused by your silence. “U-Uh! Yes! I’m sorry, Wakasa.. I was just worried when I didn’t see your friends with you.” you tried to sound as apologetic as possible, because you probably looked like a fucking weirdo. 
He chuckled, eyeing you up and down. He reached over and patted the empty spot that was to the right of him. “Come.. have a seat.” he then  grabbed his drink which was now almost completely empty. 
You were stunned at his request to have you sit with him. Usually, Kakucho never allowed the staff to sit down with any of the customers. It didn’t matter if the person was a friend or if they were family, it was prohibited. It was also implemented due to the harassment from the men who would come in. Some of them would try and coax you into sitting with them, or they’d try making you sit on their lap. It was a very uncomfortable thing that you had experienced many times, but you almost always declined. It was disgusting and you weren’t sure who the hell raised those men, but it must have been the wrong person. 
Would it be unprofessional to have a seat with Wakasa? He was asking you to join him in the booth, but there was the chance that this was a test to see if you’d actually go through with it. You cleared your throat to sound assertive in your words. “Forgive me, but it’s unprofessional for me to do so. My manager doesn’t allow it..” you placed your hands in front of you, hoping he didn’t have a negative reply to you. There was that chance he’d start yelling at you and making a whole scene. 
Wakasa’s expression shifted the moment he heard you. You were good. He wouldn’t care if you sat down, but you were very loyal to your rules and followed orders properly. Though, he didn’t find such a thing inappropriate by any means. He didn’t see you tending to any other tables or customers, so why not? He was also the owner of the club. He wasn’t going to get you into any trouble if you sat with him. If anything, he wanted you there. “Hm.. you seem to follow the rules, which is a good thing.” he took a brief sip of the alcohol in his glass, swallowing it without a second thought. “However, you won’t get in trouble. Kakucho won’t bat an eye with me here, so by all means have a seat. Though, you’re not obligated if you aren’t comfortable with it.” 
Your mouth fell slightly agape at his replies. You were certain that this was a test of some kind, but thank god it wasn’t. Now, you were left with two options. Sit with Wakasa, or completely decline the offer and go back to your little corner and be a shy little waitress. Either or sounded great! But, did they really?
This was Wakasa Imaushi of all people. He was actually inviting you to sit down with him. Your coworkers never mentioned him being this polite, so you wondered what his motives were. Maybe you caught him on a good night and he was in a greater mood than usual. It was still a really interesting request, but maybe you could do this just once. He was right about one thing. Kakucho wouldn’t say a single word if he saw you with Wakasa, so you could technically get away with it. 
Fuck it.
You pulled your skirt down just a bit, then sat down beside him. Your reason being that you didn’t want the thing riding up when you stood up the next time. 
Sitting just a few inches away, Wakasa stared at you with that lazy expression. He smirked briefly then took another swig of his drink. You caught on to the looks he was giving you, and it suddenly made you nervous once again. It felt like he was trying to seduce you with those expressions. The aroma of his expensive cologne intoxicated you. It was quite divine and it made these heat pool from your stomach towards your core. You shouldn’t have been thinking of such things about him, but how could you not? He was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid your eyes upon. You were certain any woman in your position would think the same about him. 
Wakasa placed his now empty drinking glass down on the table. He tilted his head to place all of his focus onto you. His eyes drank in the sight of your appearance. You were quite beautiful to the man. The swell of your breasts was briefly exposed through the top of your shirt, and your thighs looked quite nice in the skirt you wore. “Would you like a drink? It’d be my treat!” he raised an eyebrow, placing his elbows onto the table.
Your eyes grew wide at his proposal. There hadn’t been many attractive men to offer you a drink. You usually turned them down due to it being not allowed, but you weren’t really interested in having a drink that night. You were on shift and you had to drive yourself home too. It wouldn’t be a good idea. If it were any other night, you would have said yes. You wondered how many women had the opportunity to receive a drink from Wakasa of all people. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to decline. I have to drive and I’m pretty exhausted, so drinking may not be a great idea. Thank you again, though.” you tried to sound polite, because you didn’t want him getting the wrong idea from you. 
Wakasa nodded his head. He completely understood your reasoning. He wouldn’t press that matter any longer, but he would have loved to buy you a drink some time. “Smart girl, I like that.” he reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small rectangular box. It was clearly a pack of cigarettes. “So, how long have you been working here? I’ve never seen you before, and I’d usually notice if there was a pretty woman serving people around here.” 
Your heart began to thump rapidly inside of your chest. Was he.. flirting with you? 
There was no way he was trying to do that. He probably did that with every woman he encountered to charm them. Sure, you’d take the compliment, but it was quite shocking that he’d be so direct with you. You liked a straightforward man, but this was a lot for you to handle. 
Maybe it had to do with the fact that Wakasa was in fact the owner of this club. He had a business and he was extremely respected among the people who came here. As well as your boss and your other coworkers. You would have expected a man who owned such a fine business to be reserved and quiet. That’s how a majority of them were when you encountered them. They were all married or were engaged, so it only made sense for them to never show special attention to other women. However, Wakasa’s ringer finger was completely blank, and he seemed quite young compared to the older gentlemen you would usually see. That didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing anyone, though, but he could have a girlfriend. Though, that made another question appear in your mind. Why flirt if you weren’t single? Maybe he was a cheater? No, there was no way. You were clearly overthinking this. 
You also hadn’t been in a relationship for a pretty long time. You had men flirt with you before, but none of them had the same vibe as Wakasa. This was much different than what you’ve ever experienced. 
You watched him take out his lighter and ignite the cigarette he held between his lips. Your nose twitched at the scent of the smoke filling your nostrils. “I’ve been here for six months..” you looked down at the table, avoiding his gaze which was set on you.
He shook his head, processing the information you had given him. He was surprised to hear that you had been there for that long. He had never seen your face before. He assumed that you must have been a new hire, but you weren’t. “Oh? Interesting.. has your experience been swell? I’d sure hope so,” he took a hit of his cancer stick, blowing smoke through his nose. “What time are you off the clock, by the way?”
You began to fumble with your fingers. You hated being obviously nervous around him, but you worried about possibly slipping up and saying the wrong thing to Wakasa. Kakucho often reminded you that first impressions meant everything, especially to the man who owned The White Leopard. He also intimidated you. It could sound mean, but his presence scared you more than any other man. It probably had to do with the high amount of superiority he had above you. “It’s been okay! It’s a great job! I like it here a lot..” your eyes flickered from his eyes to your hands. “And.. um, I’m pretty much off when you leave the club? I’m not sure..”
A laugh came from his mouth, which alarmed you. You really hoped that it wasn’t sarcasm. You didn’t mean for it to come out in a rude manner, but what if he took it that way? Oh, shit. You could have completely fucked this entire interaction up. “Ah, I see. Well I’m glad you’re liking this job. I believe fine dime’s like yourself deserve the princess treatment.” he winked, showing off that teasing smirk from prior. “With that being said, I’d like the check, angel.”
A frown settled on your features at the mention of wanting the bill. You figured that meant that he was planning on leaving the club, which was disappointing. In all honesty, you wanted to converse with him a bit more before he’d make his departure. Maybe you thought too much of his nicknames and his words. He was probably just trying to swoon you. “O-Okay! I’ll come right back with that for you!” you then stood up, brushing out any wrinkles from your skirt and leaving the booth. You didn’t notice, but Wakasa had completely eyed your backside from head to toe. 
You made your way to the small corner where the register was. Many people were just now entering the club, which made you pray for Yuzuha and Emma who were planning to stay the entire evening. You eventually made it to the tablet and printed out the small bill. It was surprising. He and his friends had only ordered three drinks the entire night. It was almost like they didn’t even enjoy their time there, but you weren’t going to question their sudden need for leaving. It did give you the chance to finally head on home and get some much needed rest. You were exhausted and that familiar ache in your heels was paining you. 
Grabbing the receipts, you took a small black pen from the cup next to the tablet. You then began to walk over to the booth where Wakasa was still sitting. This time, he was on his cell phone. He seemed to be typing a text to somebody. He noticed you standing there instantly and lifted his head to pay attention to you. “There you are, angel, thank you.” he said, taking the receipts and the pen from your shaky hands. “You were a doll tonight, thank you for being so great at what you do.” 
Your heart fluttered at such a compliment from the man. Not many people would say nice things about your service, so it was reassuring and quite comforting to hear such things every once and a while. “T-Thank you! It means a lot coming from you..” you gave a smile to him, which didn’t feel forced for once tonight.
Wakasa signed the bill, then proceeded to take his wallet out of his pocket. He removed many bills from it, and you were surprised to see that he carried so much cash on him. Once he was done, he placed his wallet back and then stood up to hand you the money. “This is for the drinks..” he handed you one twenty dollar bill. “And this is for you.. have a great night, doll.” 
Your eyes went almost as wide as saucers when you saw the amount of cash you had between your fingers. He gave you a tip. A tip that was well over the usual twenty percent that you were used to. He tipped you one hundred and ten dollars. You were about to turn around and protest, but he was gone. There was a single sign of his presence anywhere. You couldn’t believe he had actually given you that much money. This had to be the biggest tip you had ever received in your entire time working at the club. Sometimes, you didn’t even receive the full twenty percent, but this completely blew you away. You were well aware that he tipped his servers pretty nicely, but you didn’t think it was this nice. You didn’t even know how to react.
Coming to your senses, you realized you had a lot of money in your hands. You then walked away from the now empty booth towards the stairs that led to the tablet. It had been a pretty successful evening for you, and you had zero complaints about any of it. Now, it was time for you to head out and go home. You assumed that Kakucho was aware of Wakasa’s dismissal, so you figured your time here was finished for the night. 
Once you reached the corner, you cleared his table and closed it out for the night. You couldn’t believe the evening you had, but you surely were excited to tell your friends about it tomorrow when you saw them. It’d be an interesting story to mention. 
You were ready to place the receipt into your pocket, but you paused when you noticed there was something written on it. It wasn’t just his signature, but there was other writing on the top of the space. You flipped the piece of paper so you could read it properly. It was surprising that you didn’t notice him writing it down when you saw him sign for the check, but maybe you missed it and looked away at the wrong moment. 
“Meet me upstairs in the private rooms. Say I asked for you. I’m in the room all the way in the back on the right. Only come if you’re comfortable <3”
The private rooms.
There had been a few occasions where you had to head up to the private rooms. The only reason for your presence being there was because of high profile businessmen being there for their own pleasure. Nobody was allowed back there except if you were staff, or if you were a part of the group. It was highly guarded by security and they often questioned you whenever you brought drinks back there. Even Kakucho informed you that if you were back there you had to be quick. It was kind of odd at times, because it wasn’t that serious to you, but you were also curious about them. 
You never really knew what went on back there, because their conversations were usually very professional and never made sense to you. Hakkai theorized it was all mafia related and The White Leopard was some kind of money laundering scheme, but Yuzuha usually shut that down with a quick smack to his head. You heard from others that it’s where the men came to have sex and indulge in drugs and drinking, but you never really knew. 
All you were aware of was that you had been invited back there by Wakasa himself, but what did he want? 
The idea of this possibly being a hookup crossed your mind. It made your face warm with embarrassment and it made you nervous. This was a random man, no, this was the man who practically was the reason why you had employment. Sleeping with him sounded like a serious stretch, but could he want that? You didn’t know, but you despised the fact that your brain was telling you to go. Maybe he wanted to have a drink since you were now technically off the clock.
Your eyes scanned the entire club. Your other coworkers seemed completely out of sight, and there was no sign of Kakucho. You decided to go with your gut.
Go and meet with Wakasa.
You clocked out before you left, then made your way towards the corridor that led to the large door that would take you to the private rooms. Your heart beat was through the roof now. You worried that someone had seen you come back there, because you weren’t supposed to be back there without permission. However, you had to relax. You had the receipt with Wakasa’s signature and his note allowing you access to those rooms. If security wanted to make an issue, you had your proof ready for them if they asked for it. 
The loud blare of the music began to fade in your ears, and it became much quieter as you entered the hallway. There were two large men standing on either side of the door. The word “private” was written above the door in large bold letters. The two security men noticed your presence and sort of straightened up their posture to seem more intimidating to you. Kind of a lame tactic considering you never really feared them. 
You paused when you reached the entrance of the rooms. One of the men’s eyes trailed up your form, then cocked his head to the side. “Can we help you?” he asked, his voice deep.
You swallowed thickly, looking up at the two guards. You prepared yourself to reach for the receipt that was tucked within your waistband. You really hoped that neither of these two would report this to Kakucho. You kinda wanted whatever this was to be somewhat private. It wouldn’t be a good look if someone heard about you meeting up with Wakasa. “W-Wakasa asked for me,” you clasped your hands together in hopes that they would believe your words. 
Both security men exchanged glances with one another. The man on the right turned and opened the door. “Right this way,” he held the door slightly ajar for you. 
You were quite surprised that it was that easy to get into there. The men didn’t ask for any proof or identification. You would think that if Wakasa was back there, the men would tear you apart with questions. Did he inform them of your possible arrival to the private rooms? You wouldn’t be that shocked, but it seemed a little odd. You didn’t protest, though, because you didn’t want to miss the opportunity to have access to the rooms. 
You walked through the door. The atmosphere had a sudden shift when you stepped through the entrance. There was a long hallway with all kinds of rooms on each side. You had been inside of them before, but those encounters never really lasted long. The door behind you shut with a thud, and all you were left with was the soft beat of the song that played through the speakers above you. You were now towards the back of the club, so the only other sound you could hear was the vibration of the other music that played on the main floor. You were nervous. You hoped that you didn’t possibly run into some random person. You chewed on your bottom lip, hoping the best from the situation. 
Taking a deep breath, you began slowly walking down the hall. 
You passed by many closed doors. Behind them, you could hear the muffled voices of the people who were inside the rooms. You vaguely recalled Wakasa saying he was at the end of the hall on the right. It made you anxious not knowing what might lie behind that door. Wakasa could be messing with you for all you know. You had to try and think positive. Wakasa was a very kind man to you the entire evening. You found it hard to believe that his intentions would be anything but pure with you. Plus, you weren’t alone in this hallway. If there was a problem, you could always just scream your head off until security arrived. You also knew bad vibes. You didn’t receive them when it came to Wakasa of all people.
You paused in your footsteps once you reached the end of the corridor. You lifted your hand to knock on the vanilla colored door. 
Knock! 
It was noiseless for a moment. You wondered if you were too late by chance, but those thoughts diminished when you heard shuffling from the other side of the door. You prepared yourself for what was to come. 
The doorknob jiggled lightly, then it was pulled open. Your eyes focused on the same man you saw just a few minutes prior. Wakasa stood inside the room with that same expression he wore before. Though, that soon shifted when his eyes fixated on you. He smirked when he made eye contact with you. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to arrive within such a short period of time, but he was happy to see you. He was also somewhat relieved that you weren’t uncomfortable with his actions. He hadn’t done such a thing before. He thought for a while you’d toss out the receipt and laugh it off, but he was thankful that wasn’t the case. “Hey, angel, nice to see you here.” he leaned against the doorframe with that same grin. “Come inside..”
Goosebumps flared onto your skin at how sultry his tone was. He sounded sort of flirty, but you had to keep your composure straight. You nodded your head and advanced forward into the same room Wakasa was in. 
The room was quite large and spacious. There was a lengthy couch that stretched along the wall and a coffee table that sat directly in the center of the room. A cup of whisky was the only item that was on the glass. The lights were quite dim and the same soft music played through the speakers. There was a faint odor of cigarettes that lingered through the air as well. You assumed he had been smoking since he had a pack with him much earlier in the night. Wakasa was the only person in the room. You were half expecting Shinichiro and Benkei to be there, but they were still nowhere to be found. You had assumed they were somewhere in the club still.
Your ears perked when the door was shut behind you. Wakasa had then shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. You noticed that his tie was now somewhat loosened, and his sleeves were still rolled up. God, he was so handsome. He had to be straight from heaven itself. 
Wakasa walked past you to the chocolate brown couch that was beside you. He plopped down, allowing the ponytail behind his head to swing from the motion. He lifted his glass that contained his whisky. “Feel free to have a seat, doll. No need to be tense,” he took a sip of the alcohol, then swirled the glass around which made the ice cubes clink against it. 
You nodded, then walked over to the couch he was sitting on. You decided to sit right beside him. You began to grow curious as to what he called you in there for. There were many possibilities swirling inside your mind, but none of them could be decided. He seemed just as casual as he was before when he was sitting inside the booth. Though, this time, there seemed to be a shift in the air. It was like there was some kind of tension circling within the two of you. You didn’t know what the reason was for it, but maybe he read your thoughts when you were sitting with him. Did he know you thought he was attractive? There was no way. You played it very casually and quite proper. “So.. um, what did you want to talk about? I was just wondering since these rooms are private..” you crossed your legs, trying to get comfortable on the leather couch. 
Wakasa shifted his gaze onto where you were sitting. Those familiar feelings from before began to creep up onto you once again. He had these seductive eyes that made your thighs squeeze together. “You piqued my interest.. and I think you’re a very beautiful woman. I could hardly keep my eyes off of you the entire night..” he maintained eye contact with you, causing your body to heat up once again.
A shiver ghosted down your spine. The atmosphere suddenly changed once again, and it was beginning to feel intense. It was blatantly obvious that Wakasa was flirting with you, and hard. Your body was screaming for you to just lean in and let this man have you, but Wakasa was practically your boss. He owned that club and what would happen if you two slept together? If that kind of secret were to slip through the cracks, you could possibly lose your job and it wouldn’t do so well for your reputation and Wakasa’s. You knew what he wanted to do, but could you even bring yourself to agree? Sure, you were more than welcome to hooking up, but would he keep it a secret? He could gladly expose you if he wanted to.
You turned your body so you were now facing him. His eyes kept leaving your face and focusing on random parts of your body. He was so captivated by your beauty that he had no idea where to stare. “Wakasa.. I think you’re handsome as well.. but how can I trust you? I could get into serious trouble and I don’t think I want this to be public knowledge..” you sounded very concerned, which worried Wakasa. He wasn’t trying to sound pushy with you whatsoever. 
He understood your concerns completely. You were right in some aspects. If he spoke about it, you could deal with serious consequences and he didn’t want to be responsible for you being possibly fired. He wanted good things for you, not bad ones. Wakasa wanted to assure you that he could be trusted. He’d never place you in such a position. “(Y/N).. you won’t lose your job while I’m here. I would never share such personal details either.. you can trust me.” he reached over and held your hand, brushing his thumb over your smooth skin. “I promise, doll.” 
His tone seemed rather trusting and sincere from your view. You also wouldn’t get an experience like this ever again, so you shook your head. You knew you were about to indulge in something that you couldn’t go back from, but his presence alone was making your body buzz with excitement and need. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you gave his hand a firm squeeze to assert yourself.
He was happy to hear that you were willing to put your faith into him. He then patted the spot on his lap for you to take a seat on. “Come here..” he motioned for you to come towards him, to which you gladly obliged.
You maneuvered yourself onto Wakasa’s thighs, placing your arms around his neck. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t nervous to be on him like that. His body was so warm against your own and his muscles were so well defined underneath his dress shirt. You could hardly look at him without feeling flustered. This was honestly hard to believe. You were about to have sex with Wakasa Imaushi. If this was a dream, you were praying to god that you wouldn’t wake up before you got to the good part. He was so attractive up close. His features were flawless and quite dreamy. How could a man like this not have a woman by his side? He was better than you ever imagined him to be. 
One of his hands rested around your waist while the other was placed against your thigh. He began to trail up your leg, leaving sparks to snap against your delicate skin. He then began to kiss your neck. His lips were smooth and the pecks were quite soft. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart when you felt his hand trailing closer towards your center. Wakasa hadn’t expected you to become so needy that fast, but he didn’t have a problem with that at all. 
He nipped at your sweet spot, causing a whimper to escape your throat. Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you made those lewd noises because of him. “You like that, baby..?” he asked in a low tone. “If you ever want me to stop.. just say the word..” 
Your grip on his shirt tightened at every minuscule touch of his fingers. Butterflies swarmed inside your belly from his Impact on you. You weren’t sure if it was because of your lack of touch since having a boyfriend, but you were like putty in his hands. “Don’t stop..” you sounded breathless when his hand reached your clothed clit. 
Wakasa grinned devilishly when he made contact with the damp spot that had formed on your panties. He had barely done a single thing and your underwear was already a dripping mess. It made him so fucking hard at the thought. He used his other hand to bring your lips down onto his. The kiss you shared was firey and full of passion and desire. It started off fairly slow. He thought your lips were smooth like honey. He could hardly get enough of the strawberry chapstick you wore on them. You shuddered when the tips of his fingers touched your cunt. He began to draw small circles onto it, sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You moaned into the kiss, allowing Wakasa to swallow it.
His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, to which you granted him access to your mouth. He darted into it and deepened the kiss even more this time. You were such a great kisser. He knew those pretty lips would have gone to good use the moment his eyes landed on them. Everything about you was ethereal. He hadn’t felt such excitement in forever. 
Wakasa pulled your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to him. He smirked when he made contact with the sticky arousal that coated your clit. You were a fucking delight down there. He wanted to taste you so fucking badly. Eat you out until you cried his name so everyone in the damn club heard who was making you feel like you were on cloud nine, but he was too far into it to do so. He wanted to make you feel good, of course, but for now he wanted to use just his fingers to make that happen. The thoughts he had were unlike no other. It was almost as if you casted a spell on him, because he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Heh.. what a mess you are, baby. This pretty pussy is calling for me, yeah? You want my fingers in you, princess?” he looked into your eyes as he spoke to you. 
You nodded your head, twirling a few strands of his hair around your fingers. You were slipping right through the cracks. He was driving you up the wall from only one simple thing, but you needed him more than anything else. “Y-Yes.. Wakasa! I need you..” you whined, moving your hips towards his digits which were right near your hole. 
Wakasa sunk one of his fingers into your dripping hole. A gasp filled his ears once he was fully inside of you. You were so tight. He could hardly move his finger around, and not to mention, you were so wet. He could tell that your pussy was quite divine and he honestly couldn’t wait to fuck you with his cock instead. He then began to finger you at a decently fast pace. You were squirming and jerking around underneath him. Even though it was just one, you still felt so full and your body was heating up quicker than you expected. He was talented with those hands of his. His finger twisted and curled around your sweet hole to find that one spot he knew would send you to the moon. 
Wakasa used his hand to maneuver your body around. He wanted an even greater access to you, so he adjusted your seating to where your back was now against his chest. This in turn made you place both of your feet onto the couch, so you were spread completely open for him. Wakasa bit the inside of cheek, his mouth watering at the thought of how gorgeous you looked right now. He wanted to see what that pretty cunt of yours looked like. He then kept pumping his finger into you. Your hand went to wrap around his wrist. It was so good. You hadn’t felt such a thing in a long time. His fingers were much different than your own, and he was doing everything to make you fall apart. You shivered even more when you felt his cock completely hardened against your ass. He had to be big, judging by the print that you could feel.
He brought his free hand to wrap around your throat. He pushed you backwards so your head was now against his shoulder. His breath tickled against the shell of your ear. “Look at you.. being so obedient for me..” he gave it a squeeze, causing your eyes to roll back from the pleasure. “So perfect for me.. yeah? Say my name, baby..”
You let out a whine when his pumps only quickened inside of you. He had found that button and he could tell by the way your body was reacting to his motions against it. Your vision blurred with every movement of his fingers, and you started to grow louder. “W-Wakasa..! Right there! Please!” you gripped his wrist tightly as he fingered you relentlessly. Your pussy squelched and squealed from how soaked you were. Wakasa found that to be the hottest thing he had ever heard. A pretty woman with her pussy dripping just for him? He honestly thought of you as an angel, just for him. 
Wakasa didn’t understand how you weren’t with another man. You were so gorgeous and your body had to be a work of art. Normally, women as stunning as you were swept off your feet the moment you came into a man’s view. If it were Wakasa, he would have made you his without a second thought. He’d treat you so right. He would give you it all. He knew it might sound silly because this was indeed his first encounter with you, but you did something to him that no other woman had done before. He couldn’t wait to get the real show started with you. He wanted to show you how a man did things with another woman. 
He brushed his thumb over your swollen clit. His other hand moved to fumble with your breast. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from them the entire evening. He wanted to honestly pull your bra down and suck on your pretty nipples. “Such a perfect little body you have, angel.” he began to draw circles on your puffy clit. “Can’t wait to fuck you.. bet you’re so warm and tight..” 
You bucked your hips towards his finger, feeling your orgasm approaching you. He got off on how desperate you were for his touch. Your walls began to flutter around his finger and slowly trap him in. He wasn’t ready to bring you to your peak yet, so he removed his finger from your cunt. A whine slipped from your lips at his sudden retraction. You were so close. Teasing you made you go crazy. You desired Wakasa more than anything and him being an ass wasn’t helping your case. “W-Waka..!” you tried bringing his hand towards your throbbing cunt, but he remained stiff and didn’t let you move him. He wasn’t going to give in that easily.
He trailed his large hands along your body, exploring every curvature and crevice of your flesh. He left a small wet kiss on the spot underneath your ear. You were so whiny and cute it made his cock twitch inside of his dress pants. “I wanna try something with you, princess..” he cooed into your ear. “But only if you want it.. otherwise, we can move forward..”
Curiosity coursed through your veins at his mention of something new. You had experimented with many things with many different guys, but you had yet to try everything. Wakasa could have anything up his sleeve, which made you wonder more as to what this could be. It only made you more excited. You turned your head to make eye contact with the man who was sitting behind you. His purple eyes were now blown with lust, which made his pupils quite large. “W-What is it..?” you questioned, your eyes flickering from his eyes to his pretty lips you wished you had on you once again.
Wakasa reached towards the black tie that was loosened around the collar of his shirt. He untied it and pulled it off of him. Your eyes grew wide when you realized what he wanted to do. You have seen plenty of erotic videos where a man would use a tie for a specific purpose. Whether it was using it to restrain them, or using it as a blindfold, they were used for pretty kinky things. You hadn’t had one used on you before. It’d be a completely new experience. The thought alone turned you on, a lot. Though, it did somewhat make you nervous because of your inexperience with the clothing item. This could go wrong, but that was a risk you were willing to take with the man before you. You were certain that Wakasa would never put you in a situation where you could get hurt. 
He lifted his tie in his hand up to your level. He could already imagine you with his tie on your body. Fuck, that’d be a sight. You were already gorgeous enough, so you’d look even more sexy with it on. “I want to use it as a blindfold.. I won’t progress without your consent, so if you don’t want to, it’s okay.” he sounded sincere and quite sweet in your opinion. You thought it was considerate of him to think of your feelings in the matter. Not many men were like that. 
You felt comfortable with him enough for him to use the blindfold on you. He did mention that if you wanted to stop, all you had to do was say the word. “Okay.. I trust you, Wakasa.” you nodded, looking into his pretty eyes. 
He smiled at you, leaning in to give you a quick kiss. He then unrolled his tie, taking both ends into his hands. You then watched him place the tie over your eyes. Your vision went completely dark and you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you. Wakasa used both ends of the tie to form a knot so it would stay nice and firm behind your head. A shaky breath left your lips. You had no idea where he was going to move next, or what he was planning on doing now. Judging by how fast he seemed to be moving, you could only assume that he was preparing to fuck you. The images flashed inside your brain, making that heat form in your belly. 
The man behind you then began to move you around. Wakasa placed your head down, so you were now lying down on the couch. He began to undo the buttons of your blouse, exposing your bra that held your breasts. It took everything inside him to not completely ravage your pretty mounds. He then moved downward and began to tug at your skirt. He pulled the piece of fabric down your thighs, then towards your calves where it slipped off of your ankles. Wakasa’s eyes fixated on your pussy that was still as wet as before. He was right. Your cunt was so perfect and the sight of it made his mouth water with saliva. He began to ponder on the taste. He bet you were sweet and savory. He thought you had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He’d have to taste you some time. There was no way he was going to let you walk away without giving him a small taste.
Wakasa pulled your panties off of your body, tossing them onto the floor beside him. He then began to unbuckle his belt, which made you shiver. You couldn’t see what he was hiding underneath those pants of his. Anticipation bubbled inside your belly at the thought of what his cock was going to feel like. He removed his pants, his cock springing free from the confines of his boxers. He could finally breathe. It felt like he had been suffocated from how tight they felt around his waist. Pre-cum leaked from the tip, to which he wiped off with the pad of his thumb. 
His fingers trailed down the skin of your waist, then towards your hips. The lack of eyesight made your emotions all the more heightened. You were much more sensitive now. It was no surprise to Wakasa when you twitched at his minor touches. What a pretty baby you were. “Heh, don’t you worry, princess. I promise to be gentle with you..” he winked, tossing his white shirt onto the table beside you both.
He then positioned himself at your entrance. The pinkish tip brushed along your folds, earning a moan from both of you. Your pussy was so wet. It didn’t take much for Wakasa to push himself inside of you. He grunted loudly when he felt your delicious walls clamping around his cock. He couldn’t believe you felt that amazing. It made him question where you’ve been all his life. You squirmed at the sensation of his cock splitting your cunt apart. He was big. Wakasa searched your expression for any signs of discomfort or hesitation, but all he saw was your jaw wide open from his cock pushing inside of you. He took that as a good sign, and began to slowly rut his hips into you. He could hardly keep himself composed. You were squeezing his cock so perfectly that he swore you were made to take him.
Wakasa began to pick up his pace. Your hands began to run down your body, taking a hold of your breast. The thrill of using a blindfold was making the sex even greater than it would without it. You had no idea what he might do next, and that’s what excited you. “Wakasa..! Fuck.. you’re so good..” you whimpered, arching your back upwards from the pleasure you were receiving.
He liked hearing his name slip from your tongue like that. He could listen to your sweet voice all fucking day. Scratch that, he could fuck you all day and never get tired. There was so much to like about you. To think, just a little while ago you were serving him drinks and being a pretty little waitress for him. He disliked that Shinichiro stared at you a little longer than he would have preferred, but that idea was shut down the moment you made eye contact with Wakasa. “Yeah..? Look at you.. being so good for me, baby. You take me – shit! – so fuckin’ nicely..” he pried your legs apart further, placing them around his waist to reach into you more.
He was unable to see it, but your eyes rolled backwards behind your lids from the new angle he reached. He reached your g-spot instantly, sending deep waves of pleasure to crash along your body. This man must have known the female body much better than any other guy on this planet. He knew exactly what he was doing to make you see stars in your vision. 
Wakasa gritted his teeth at your walls, shuddering and twitching around his dick. He hated sounding so possessive, but he wanted you all to himself. He knew you didn’t belong to him and you both just met one another, but the idea of another man getting their hands on you made him green with envy. You were too good for these shitty men he knew in the world. They didn’t deserve such a kind woman, nor did they deserve the chance to fuck your perfect pussy. He wanted to be the only one to fuck you in such a manner. His dick should be the only one you thought about. It only made him want to fuck you harder and better. God, what the fuck did you do to him? Wakasa never believed in being tied down to one person, but you.. you had completely shifted his opinion on the subject. You were a little devil.
He used his hand to grip your throat. He gave it a harsh squeeze, which made your mind feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He leaned towards your ear. His deep breaths filled your ears, arousing you from how harsh they were. “Gonna make this pussy all mine, angel..” he purred. “You wanna – fuck – be mine, baby? Never gonna share you again.. I’ll give you i-it all!” 
His thrusts grew more aggressive, sending you over the edge with your mind becoming foggy with euphoria. He sounded so menacing and it made you so turned on. It stunned you, though. Wakasa wanted to keep you all to himself, yet he barely knew you. To be honest, you didn’t oppose that idea whatsoever. The thought of being Wakasa’s was not a bad one. “Y-Yes..!” you managed to choke out, considering you weren’t able to allow much air into your lungs from how tight his hold was on your throat. 
A chuckle rumbled in his throat at your reply. You were his little masochist and he couldn’t wait to see what else you were capable of. He couldn’t hide that smirk that appeared on his face when you said yes. He’d make you see that you would never regret such a decision to be his. “That’s right.. good girl, baby.” he released your throat, allowing you to inhale a breath. “Wanna see me fuck you, princess..? ‘Wanna see those pretty e-eyes look at me..” 
You nodded your head vigorously. You craved nothing more than to see his handsome face above you. Wakasa then slowed his thrusts and reached forward to pull the black blindfold down and away from your eyes. You squinted a little from the sudden rays of light that filled your vision, but your eyes then focused on the man who was fucking you. Wakasa looked so good hovering over your body. His ponytail was slightly messy and a few strands of his hair were clinging to his forehead from the sweat that formed on his skin. He was giving you a flirty smile that made your face burn. You wished you got to see him the entire time, but you were glad you got the chance to see him now.
Your hands went to rest on his muscular shoulders. His physique was quite nice and attractive. You couldn’t believe a man this handsome was fucking your brains out on a couch. “Wakasa! Fuck.. love your cock..” you made eye contact with him. Your desperate hues made him twitch inside of you. You were so so beautiful looking at him like that. 
He loved the sound of that. He then had an idea flow into his brain. He had done it before with other women, but he wanted to try it with you. He thought it’d be a nice way to remember this evening you two had with one another. Wakasa slowed his ruts and came to a complete stop, which made you somewhat upset. You thought it was unfair, because you were coming close to that delicious high that you craved more than anything else. The man then reached over to the glass coffee table that was right beside the couch. He pulled his phone off of the table and stared down at you with foggy eyes. He was breathing quite heavily and seemed almost as needy as you were. “I wanna record you..” he moved around inside your cunt, earning a cry of pleasure from your mouth. “Only if you want.. baby.” 
Being recorded? That was something you were completely new to. You had sent naked photographs and videos of yourself before, but to have a sexual encounter recorded? That was quite lewd and it was different. You worried the video might be shared with other people. You didn’t dislike the idea or anything, but your private business with Wakasa should remain behind closed doors. 
You shifted around underneath him. You were getting close to your orgasm, and you wanted to finish already. “I’ll only allow it if you promise to never share it..” you took his free hand into yours, placing it on your body. “Promise.. Waka?”
Wakasa heard your concerns loud and clear. There were many assholes out there that often betrayed the trust of their significant others by sharing those videos with others, but Wakasa wasn’t one of them. He’d never share something that intimate without your permission. He also didn’t want anyone else to see your body. He was the only person who should be able to see the private areas of you. “I promise, angel. You won’t have to worry..” he rubbed your belly with his hand softly to reassure you. 
You then gave him the nod to keep going. He started to pick up that similar pace he had prior. His tip kissed your g-spot, making your brain turn fuzzy each time he pressed against it. Your walls were beginning to spasm and close around his cock, earning several grunts from the man above you who looked fucking gorgeous. He was well aware that you were close. Heh, maybe he’d get your pretty orgasm on camera while he recorded you. He’d never stop viewing that video if that were the case.
Wakasa used his thumb to swipe over to the camera. His grip wasn’t the firmest, considering he was fucking the shit out of you, but he eventually was able to begin taping the scene in front of him. The flash appeared within the blink of an eye, and you realized you were being recorded. He grinned when your pussy quivered around him. You must have liked being on camera like that. He pushed your legs somewhat further apart to let the camera get a glance of his cock pushing your cunt apart. “Heh.. would you look at that, baby. You suck me in so fuckin’ nicely..” he cooed, shifting his gaze onto you. “You like being taped, hm..? ‘Can feel you getting nice and tight now..” 
His thumb swirled around your clit. The familiar knot in your belly was tightening with every motion of his hips. Wakasa gritted his teeth at how so fucking great he felt. He had begun to increase his assault on your cunt, allowing your cries to become much louder than before. Your volume was so high that it was likely that whoever was down this hallway heard you moaning for Wakasa. Neither of you gave much care to that fact. What were they going to do? Come to the club owner himself and argue over it? Fat chance. 
Wakasa groaned deeply when your pussy began to squeeze the life out of his cock. Your high had finally washed over you, making your thighs tremble from the affects. He was most thrilled to know that he had caught the entire thing on video. Your pretty voice calling out his name so loudly that he was sure you would have lost your voice from the high pitch. A creamy white ring surrounded his cock. You were a mess on him and the couch you were both fucking on. That was all he really needed in the department of recording you, because now it was his turn to reach his orgasm. “Fuck.. so good.. such a good girl, baby.” he then pressed the button on his phone, ending the recording and tossing it somewhere onto the floor. 
Your eyes were hazy and your body was still reeling in the affects of your climax. You felt as if you were on fire and Wakasa was the gasoline making that spark more intense. “Wakasa! N-Need you..” you whined. “Ah..!”
Those words brought a nice smile to the man’s face. The feeling was honestly mutual. He needed you just as much as you needed him. He would give you whatever you desired. “Yeah..? Don’t worry, doll. I’ll give you everything..” he leaned down, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your swollen lips. “Where do you – fuck! – want my cum, baby?” 
Although the words processed quite slowly into your brain, you wondered what would be the most fun. He could always leave his cum right on your face or on your pretty tits. That also proposed the idea of him taking a photo of it and saving it on his cell phone. Either option turned you on, but the other one made your clit throb. Wakasa filling you up crossed your mind and it was such an erotic idea. He was already opening your doors to new things like using a blindfold and recording, so why not let him cum inside you just this once? It would be nice, and you hadn’t experienced such a feeling in a long time. 
Your arms went to wrap around his neck, bringing his face towards yours. Those lazy eyes of his stared right into your fucked out ones. He could get lost within them if he stared for too long. “Inside.. please..” you sounded so desperate that Wakasa could have cum right then and there. He knew you were into things, but that? That was quite a surprise. 
But, who was he to deny your such filthy desires? He’d grant them any day he so pleased.
Wakasa began to rut his hips at that same fast pace from before. Your familiar cries returned, filling his ears like they were a song he could never get tired of. His cock began to twitch inside of you and his grip on your body was firm. He would grant you that need of wanting his cum inside you. He could only imagine what it would look like when his seed leaked out of your hole. It only made him more encouraged to keep going. He was so close. “Shit.. shit.. fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.. ‘gonna fill this pretty pussy..” he looked down at you as he spoke. 
With one last thrust, he hissed as his high hit him like a truck. His cock twitched and his balls that were slapping against your clit tightened up, allowing his cum to fill into your womb. It was quite thick and warm, sending shivers along your body from how it made you feel. Wakasa’s grip on your hip must have been tight enough to leave marks. He didn’t dare move in fear that the mess inside of you would possibly seep out, so he decided to sit there for a brief moment. Your nails drew small circles onto his shoulder, trying to recover from the affects of being completely and utterly fucked out. You weren’t sure how long you had been at it, but it must have been quite late in the evening.
Both of you were quite messy. There were many loose strands falling out of Wakasa’s once neat ponytail, and sweat dripped down his tattooed body. He still had that dreamy aura attached to him even though he looked quite exhausted. 
After several moments of silence, Wakasa pulled out of your tired cunt. Some of his cum had escaped and began to trickle down from your pussy to your ass. He thought it was one of the sexiest things he had laid his eyes upon. His cum coming out of you. What a delicious sight. Reality then dawned on him, he had another event to attend for the evening and he couldn’t remain at the club for longer than he would have desired. He had to also find out where Shinichiro and Benkei had gone. He had so much fun with you. The experience he had with you was exhilarating and nothing like he had felt before. He doubted he’d find that similar feeling with another woman.
Wakasa leaned towards the floor and grabbed his pants. You watched him begin to redress himself and you figured you would do the same thing. That familiar tires feeling you had earlier in the night had returned. The sex you had only made you more exhausted than you originally were.
He finished up much quicker than you and now he was standing by the door. He decided to say one more thing before he made his exit. As much as he wanted to just go home, duty called. “Have a good night, (Y/N). I hope to see you again.” he gave you a flirty smile, then exited the private room so you were now completely on your own. 
You fixed your skirt and buttoned up your top. You looked down at the coffee table that was directly in front of you. Your eyes fixated on a random napkin that was folded up beside Wakasa’s empty whisky glass. You reached forward and unfolded the napkin. A smile made its way to your features when you read what was written in ink on it. 
“Call me sometime, I’d love to see you again ♡- Wakasa aka Mr.Imaushi”
2K notes · View notes
mopopshop · 4 months
Text
On and Off the Court
based on this request <-
words: 3.7k
summary: You've just been accepted for a sports medicine internship at the University of Connecticut, joining your best friend Sue Bird. As you meet Diana, you're quickly warned about her romantic habits. Will this warning be enough to keep you away?
made an OC for this one, hope you guys enjoy and lmk how we’re feeling about the DT stuff and if I should keep making it 🙏🏾
as always my requests are open so send me anything you guys want to see, please enjoy!!💕
UConn Campus: 2002
Securing the internship at UConn had been a long shot, but you had never been one to back down from a challenge. The application process had been rigorous—endless forms, letters of recommendation, and a nerve-wracking interview. But when the call came through, informing you that you’d been selected as an athletic trainer intern for one of the most prestigious women’s basketball programs in the country, you knew it was all worth it. 
Sue was right there with you too, she’d already been attending UConn two years prior to your application but she was the one who encouraged you apply in the first place. She knew your love for sports medicine and what’s greater than having your best friend study that at your school? 
You first met Sue Bird during a summer basketball camp, you’d dabbled in the physical sport before deciding on sports med. She was the cooler older girl who’d taken you under her wing and from then on you were inseparable and the rest is history.  
Sue had been the one to drive you on campus for your first day, she helped you move into your dorm and now she was showing you around the UConn practice facility. 
As you walk beside her, she points out players, giving you a quick rundown of who’s who. And then she mentions, almost casually, "And that’s Diana. Lemme introduce you real quick."
Your eyes follow her gesture to see Diana, tan freckled skin and a slick back curled bun, who's shooting three-pointers with an ease that defies logic. There's an intensity to her that draws you in immediately.
"Aye, D! Meet the new intern," Sue calls out. Diana pauses, her gaze shifting towards you. She walks over, her confidence apparent in every step.
"Hey, I’m Diana," she says, extending her hand. You shake it, feeling a jolt of something you can't quite identify.
"Yeah! I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Nora" you manage to say, your voice steady despite your racing heart.
She gives you a once over, nodding and biting her lip lightly “Nora, that’s a pretty name”
You flush and go to respond but Sue quickly cuts you off, clearing her throat.
“Alright! Um we’re gonna… I’m gonna show her around the rest of the place.” she makes an awkward thumb gesture, pointing down a hallway and quickly ushers you away, not even giving Diana a chance to respond. 
“Do you think D’s hot?” She blurts out once you get to one of the med rooms.
“Huh?!”
She groans, rubbing a hand over her face “ D’s… she’s like- well she’s..”
“Spit it out Sue” you shove her lightly 
“She like-  she sleeps around! I don’t know, I just got vibes that she thinks you’re cute and as your self appointed big sister and very best friend I don’t need her breaking your heart”
“You got all that from a three-second conversation??”
“Well no- but also yes, look.. all I’m saying is I know my teammates and I absolutely know you, as much as I love D don’t fall for her lesbian flirty tactic thingys”
“Lesbian.. flirty… tactic… thingys…”
“Yes!”
“Sue you sound crazy but sure”
—————————
Your next few weeks at UConn are chill as you settle into your role, finding a rhythm in the fast-paced environment. You spend your days taping ankles, stretching out sore muscles, and learning from your mentors.
Even after what Sue said about Diana you can’t help but be attracted to her and honestly you feel that Diana reciprocates your feelings. These past few weeks you and Diana have only gotten closer, first it started with talking during practice, then getting food together after practice, and eventually hanging out at each other’s dorms.
One evening, Sue invites you to your first college party, eager to show you the social side of university life. You’re excited but also nervous, partly because you don’t know what to expect and partly because you can’t stop thinking about Diana. Despite Sue’s warnings, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something real between you and Diana, something more than just casual flirting.
The party is at a popular off-campus house, and as soon as you walk in, you’re hit by the loud music and the sight of students milling about, drinks in hand. Sue is quickly pulled into a conversation with some friends, leaving you to navigate the crowded room on your own.
You grab a drink and wander around, trying to blend in and relax. Just when you’re starting to enjoy yourself, you spot Diana across the room. Your heart skips a beat as you watch her laughing and talking animatedly with another girl, her arm casually draped over the girl’s shoulders.
You tell yourself not to overreact. After all, it’s a party, and Diana is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. You start heading in her direction, hoping to get her attention but as you walk, Diana leans in and kisses the girl, a deep, lingering kiss that leaves no room for misinterpretation.
Your stomach drops, and you feel a cold wave of disappointment wash over you. Sue’s words echo in your mind, reminding you of Diana’s reputation. You turn away, trying to focus on anything but the scene unfolding before you, but it’s no use. The image is burned into your mind.
Feeling a mix of hurt and foolishness, you decide to leave. You make your way to the door, hoping to escape unnoticed. Just as you step outside into the cool night air, you hear Sue calling your name.
“Nora! Hey, what’s wrong?” She asks, her voice laces with concern.
“Nothing, nothing! Um.. just feeling kinda nauseous, I’m gonna head back but you have fun ‘mkay?” you reach up, giving her a hug “Thanks for bringing me, I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow” you spit out before rushing to your car.
—————————
After the party, you do everything in your power to avoid Diana, shrugging away from her flirtatious touches, opting to eat lunch with Sue instead, and finding any excuse to keep her from coming back to your dorm. 
One night after practice, you find yourself in the training room alone, organizing supplies. The door swings open, Diana walks in, and your heart sinks, you still have feelings for her despite everything and being alone with her doesn’t make you feel any better. 
“ ‘Sup, Nora,” she greets, her voice dripping with playful charm as if she’s completely oblivious to the change in your dynamic over the past few days. 
You force a smile, trying to keep up appearances despite the turmoil inside. "Hey, D"
She saunters over, her movements fluid and confident. "Just thought I'd swing by and see how you're doing. You've been kind of distant lately."
You swallow hard, struggling to find the right words. "Yeah, just busy with work and stuff."
Diana raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Is that all it is? Because it feels like there's something else going on."
You avert your gaze, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm fine, Diana. Really."
But she doesn't seem convinced, and you can feel her studying you intently. "Nora, whatever it is, you can talk to me. I'm here for you."
Her words stir something inside you, a flicker of longing mixed with frustration. How can she act so caring and yet be the cause of so much pain?
"I don't think that's such a good idea," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Diana takes a step closer, her presence overwhelming. "Why not?"
You finally look up, and your breath catches at the intensity in her eyes. She’s so close now, you can see every detail of her face, every freckle, and the way her lips curl into a slight, confident smile. The air between you is charged with tension, and you can’t help but feel drawn to her.
“I…”
You’re standing so close now, mere centimeters apart. You can feel her breath on your skin, and it’s intoxicating. Your body leans in almost of its own accord, the pull towards her undeniable. You can see the same desire reflected in her eyes, and for a moment, you think you might actually kiss her.
But then images of Diana and that girl at the party flicker into your mind. You take a shaky step back, breaking the magnetic pull between you. “I.. I don’t know, I’ve gotta get back” you laugh awkwardly, trying to play it off and rush towards the door “Um I’ll catch you at practice tomorrow!” and with that you go, leaving Diana standing in the training room alone and  confused. 
—————————
The next day at practice, the atmosphere between you and Diana is noticeably tense. You arrive early, as usual, to help set up and assist with stretches. You’ve managed to avoid telling Sue about this whole Diana debacle, trying to keep from her lectures.
As the team files in, you focus intently on your tasks, hoping to avoid any awkward interactions. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic presence of Diana as she walks into the gym, her eyes immediately seeking you out.
You try to act natural, going through your routine with the players. When it’s Diana’s turn, you lead her to the training room as she takes her place on the mat, and you approach with professional detachment, though your heart is pounding.
“Morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of something more.
“Morning,” you reply, keeping your focus on the task at hand. “Let’s get started.”
As you begin to help her stretch, the proximity brings back the memory of the previous evening. Your hands brush against her skin, sending electric sparks up your arms. Diana doesn’t make it easy, her body language and occasional lingering looks making it clear she hasn’t forgotten either.
“You know,” she says quietly, “I’ve been thinking about last night.”
You swallow hard, trying to maintain your composure. “ D, we shouldn’t talk about this here”
She chuckles softly, a sound that makes your stomach flutter. “Maybe not. But we can’t ignore it forever.”
You don’t respond, focusing instead on finishing the stretch. But when you look up, her face is inches from yours, her eyes dark with intent.
“Nora,” she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. “I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Your breath catches in your throat, her proximity overwhelming. “Diana, we can’t—”
But before you can finish, she leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s like a spark igniting, setting your senses on fire. For a moment, you forget everything—the warnings, the doubts, the pain. There’s only Diana, and the undeniable pull between you.
But just as quickly as it began, the moment is shattered as coach’s voice booms across the gym, down the hall, and into the training room, breaking the spell.
“Alright, everyone, get your asses up let’s get started!”
Diana pulls away, her expression unreadable. You’re left standing there as she runs back to the main practice area, heart racing, trying to make sense of what just happened. 
As practice continues, you struggle to focus, the memory of Diana’s lips on yours distracting you at every turn. It’s like a whirlwind of emotions, pulling you in all directions at once.
After practice, you find yourself alone in the training room once again, sorting through equipment as you try to process everything that’s happened. You’re still reeling from the kiss, unsure of what it means or where things will go from here.
Just then, the door swings open, and Diana walks in, her expression determined.
“Nora,” she says, her voice soft but resolute. “We need to talk.”
You suck in a sharp breath “D I have to go I’m-“
“No, Nora you keep running and we need to talk”
“Diana…”
“Just five minutes, please” 
Diana's voice is pleading, and you can see the sincerity in her eyes. Despite your reluctance, you can't deny her request. You nod silently, gesturing for her to take a seat as you settle into a chair opposite her.
For a moment, there's silence between you, the tension palpable in the air. Diana fidgets with her hands, her gaze fixed on the floor as if searching for the right words.
Finally, she looks up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. 
“I’m just confused about what’s going on between us? I mean, your first few weeks here we were inseparable and then you do a 180° on me and pretend like I don’t exist? And then- then we almost kiss and then we do kiss I’m just.. I’m confused on who you feel here.” 
“You’re confused? Imagine how I fucking feel D, you flirt with me and call me pretty and take me out to eat and sleepover at my dorm and—all this other shit but turn around and kiss another girl? And on top of that you tell me you can’t stop thinking about me, It’s frustrating like just be honest” you rant, letting all your feelings from the past few months voice themselves.
Diana sits there sort of silent and you continue “Even fucking Sue warned me that’d this what happen! And I didn’t listen when I know I should’ve, it would’ve saved me all this confusion” you huff.
“Nora I…” 
Diana's voice trails off, and she runs a hand through her hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. She takes a deep breath and starts again, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race.
“Nora, I didn’t realize how much I was messing with your head. I’ve never felt like this before, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I was scared,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Scared of what?” you ask, your tone softer now but still edged with frustration.
“Of this,” Diana gestures between the two of you, “Of us, of how strong my feelings are for you. It’s easier to flirt and mess around than to face how real this is. That kiss at the party… it was a mistake. I was trying to convince myself that what we have wasn’t real, that it was all just in my head. But I can’t keep lying to myself, and I can’t keep hurting you.”
Her confession leaves you speechless for a moment, the sincerity in her words cutting through the fog of your emotions. You take a deep breath, trying to process everything she’s said.
Diana reaches out, taking your hand in hers. Her touch is gentle, but there's a desperate urgency in her grip. "Nora, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to just please forgive me” 
You take a deep breath, glancing down at your intertwined fingers and feeling the weight of her words. Part of you wants to hold onto the hurt, to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But another part of you recognizes the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine remorse in her voice.
"D," you start, your voice trembling slightly, "I need to know that you won't hurt me like this again. If we're going to move forward, I need to trust you."
She nods fervently, her eyes shining with determination. "I promise, I swear on fucking everything, I promise."
A small smile tugs at your lips, the vulnerability in her words melting some of the walls you've built up. "Okay, but this has to be different. No more games, no more mixed signals. I need you to be honest with me."
"I will," she promises, her voice steady. "I want to make this work, Nora. Let me start with asking you on a proper date m. No more hiding, no more confusion. Just you and me."
You feel a flicker of hope in your chest, a warmth spreading through you at her words. "A proper date, huh?"
Diana grins, her usual confident demeanor peeking through. "Yeah, a proper date.“
You stand there silently, watching her sweat a little at your lack of response.
“So? You gonna ask me?”
“Wha- I thought I just did?” genuine confusion paints her face.
 “I’m waiting…..” you sing song, smiling
She rolls her eyes at your sarcasm, scoffing then takes both of your hands in hers “Nora Evans, will you please do me the honor of sharing a meal with me, outside of the facility, in a romantic setting, preferably under $40”
You chuckle nodding before glancing down at her lips. She leans in, her eyes sparkling with relief and excitement, and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. When she pulls back, you can see the sincerity in her gaze, the promise of something real and honest.
—————————
Over the next few days, you and Diana take the first steps into your new relationship. It's a gradual process, filled with small, meaningful gestures—a shared laugh, a lingering touch, a whispered promise. The awkward tension that once filled the training room is replaced by a quiet, mutual understanding.
One afternoon, you both decide it's time to tell Sue. You've been dreading this moment, knowing how protective Sue can be. But it feels right, and you want your best friend to be a part of this.
You catch Sue in the dining hall, finishing up a study session. She looks up as you and Diana approach, a curious smile on her face.
"Hey, you two," she greets, her eyes flicking between you with an all-too-knowing look. "What's up?"
You glance at Diana, who nods encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, you start, "Sue, there's something we need to tell you."
Sue raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh? This sounds serious."
You exchange a nervous look with Diana, then take a step forward. "Well, Diana and I... we're kind of seeing each other now."
For a moment, Sue just blinks at you, her expression unreadable before she groans, smacking her hand on the table “Dammit, I owe Tamika $20 bucks”
You and Diana burst into laughter “What? You were betting on us?”
“She knew the second I told you not to date DT you were gonna do it anyways, shit” she sighs “I guess I’m happy for you though” she says jokingly.
“Oh whatever, Sue” you laugh
She looks up at Diana “If you hurt my best friend, just know I’ve got something in store for your ass”
Diana raises her hands in mock surrender, a playful glint in her eyes. "Got it, Bird. No need to send out a hit squad."
Sue narrows her eyes, leaning in for dramatic effect. "I'm serious. I've got connections."
You can't help but burst into more laughter at the exaggerated threat. Sue joins in, pulling both you and Diana into a tight, affectionate hug.
"Honestly, I'm happy for you guys," Sue says sincerely, giving you a squeeze. "Just be good to each other, alright?"
You nod, feeling a warmth spread through you. "We will, Sue. Promise."
———
lmk how you feel about this everyone! i kinda struggled writing it but in the end i like how it turned out
185 notes · View notes
bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
saturday, reclamation— game day
Tumblr media
⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included.
⋆˙⟡ read all possible endings here!
⋆˙⟡ wc: 7k (idk ur welcome)
⋆˙⟡ reader: femme afab (listed first, she/her are used) // gender neutral (alternate version listed second, no pronouns used at all to describe reader— scroll down)
⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.
⋆˙⟡ saturday summary: nearly every student is gathered for your university's big soccer match against your rival school. you're hoping to steer clear of the boys you've had such strange (and steamy) encounters with this week. i think you can guess by now that fate is not on your side. or is it?
⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. bullying. when you're done, proceed to the endings :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: okay here we go. clitoral stimulation, g-spot stimulation, lots of penetrative p-in-v sex, oral (male receiving), mild cum play, mostly dom/soft dom boys but also subby!matthew for fun, this is a CONSENSUAL gang bang. and all raw penetration whoops.
Tumblr media
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
“enjoy the game! fighting!”
the words leave your mouth for the five hundredth time this evening as you hand out yet another set of programs. you give each attendee your most authentic smile as you greet them at the north entrance. 
“we’re at almost four hundred at the south entrance,” mina’s voice rings through the walkie-talkie on the table in front of you. it’s no surprise how well-attended tonight’s game is— everyone was invested in the long-held rivalry between your university and the opposing school. it had been a few years since your university’s soccer team had won this match-up. you wondered if they would tonight...
perhaps hanbin being made team captain this year would be the missing link to victory.
“hi! enjoy the game— fighting!” you exclaim once more. speaking of hanbin, he’d been right about one thing. tea with honey had repaired your voice perfectly. you’d even remembered to brew chamomile tea instead of black, so that good night’s sleep you’d been desperately needing was finally gifted to you.
you called mina that morning. you didn’t tell her what had happened per se, but you told her about each of the boys pursuing you... and you conveniently left jiwoong out of the equation for her own sake.
“i need to figure out how to get all of them in the same room,” you said, sending the finalized program for the big game to the campus activities director to print. you’d actually managed to finish it early this morning after emailing it to your sunbaenims to promptly approve. “but i don’t know how i’d manage to do that.”
“the campus activities interviews!” mina shouts excitedly. “sunbaenim was looking for a volunteer to do it for him tonight. if i make sure he recruits the right players, you’ll have them all to yourself in the activities lounge.”
all to yourself? 
just how lucky could you be?
~
“and number 13 approaches the goal, weaving through the opposition,” the announcer calls as hanbin dribbles the ball across the field. two defensive players from the rival team close in on him. “and he seems to be caught in a defensive trap. number 25 comes up behind him on his right and number 12 is ahead of him on his left— will 13 be able to pass the ball successfully?”
you’re on the edge of your seat as hao waves at hanbin to signal he’s open. jiwoong’s making the same signal, but a bit more aggressively. personal issues with several members of the soccer team aside, you’re rooting for their win. it would mean a lot of positive attention and increased funding for your whole university to have the soccer team finally progress to the championship again.
you glance at the rest of the field. matthew’s in defense, the number 28 on his jersey shining in the flood lights as he blocks two rival offensive players all by himself. and, on the bench in his perfectly clean uniform sits taerae— number 14 kicking the grass with his cleats, not really paying attention to the riveting game going on in front of him.
“and 13 successfully passes to 25! 25 dodges a defensive player on his right, making a beeline for the goal,” the announcer continues, everyone in the stands beginning to stand up as the anticipation grows unbearable. 
the scoreboard reads: 1-1.
hao is shooting distance from the goal, but he can’t seem to shake a couple defense players on his heels. there’s no way he’ll be able to make the goal like this. he looks at jiwoong, who is also preoccupied with defensive players of his own. it seems like all hope is lost until...
“number 13 sprints out ahead— a clear path between him and 25! 25 passes quickly to 13...”
hanbin’s cleat touches the ball, steadying himself for less than a second before he squares up and takes the shot.
the ball flies through the air. though it’s certainly going at least 70 miles per hour, it feels like you’re watching it in slow motion. mina grabs your hand, anxiety overflowing from every direction.
swish.
the ball flies over the goalie’s hands and into the netting behind him. the crowd erupts into cheers as the timeclock buzzer signals the end of the game.
hanbin stands in shock as the rest of his teammates rush toward him, engulfing him in their celebration. he’s lifted onto someone’s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear in pure joy and relief in a way you haven’t seen since you first met him. it’s a nice sight, if you’re being honest.
“i’m ready when you are,” mina says, squeezing your hand. “just fill me in after on how the revenge goes.”
“will do,” you say, making your way down the stairs of the stands. “just remember it’s what you asked for!”
the phrase sends a chill down your spine as you remember taerae’s thumb pressed to your tongue. you shake your head to snap out of it. there’s no time for hesitation.
you watch patiently as the celebration continues on the field. coach yang’s practically crying with pride. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him display an emotion other than boredom and annoyance before. camera now slung around your neck, you watch as the many attendees file out of the bleachers and out the exits. 
the players shake hands cordially with the other team, one of the rival defense players starting to give matthew a hard time— undoubtedly for being pig-headed and brash during the game. you’re sure he deserves a little roughing up, but you need him in good condition.
after the excitement finally dies down, the campus activities president makes his way over to you with a smirking mina at his side. “ready to get some good portraits of the players?”
you nod happily. more than ready.
“thanks for volunteering to do this for me. i’ve gotta be at the senior leadership conference way too early tomorrow morning,” your sunbaenim says as he and mina head out onto the field. “you can head to the activities lounge now and set up. mina will escort them right over!”
mina grins at you over her shoulder before you exit the soccer field and head towards kang hall. the warm night air calms you as you walk through the doors and make your way down the empty hallway, stopping when you finally reach the activities lounge. several desks, a few office chairs and a small sofa litter the room.
this could work.
you grab the stack of interview consent forms out of the filing cabinet to your right before setting up the photo wall and camera at the back of the room. if, by chance, a few extra players are sent in, you’ll just have to get them out of the way first.
buzz buzz.
you check your phone to see a message from mina.
i’m sorry, coach yang made me take jiwoong, too. BLEGH. something about him being the left forward and “crucial to the game” or whatever. like, whatever helps him sleep at night, i guess. anyway, they’ll be there in a minute.
a minute. you can do this.
“two red flags!? it wasn’t even my fault. that guy was being a total dick,” you hear a muffled voice through the door. “so what i grabbed him by the collar? he should have a stronger windpipe if he can’t handle a little bit of good-natured choking!”
“it was the waterboy,” hao replies with a sigh. “you choked our waterboy.”
the door cracks open.
“he was in my way,” matthew says with a huff.
“he was trying to give you water,” taerae says quietly. 
“you guys never fucking support me,” matthew grumbles, the door flying open as he takes a step inside the lounge. his lips part at the sight of you as the other boys push him through.
soon you’re met with five pairs of wide eyes, all staring back at you from where you sit on top of a desk in the middle of the room— clipboard resting on your knees.
you smile at them, clicking your pen eerily. “welcome! and congratulations on your fantastic win. please line up across from me.”
after a few moments of uneasy silence, hanbin is the first to make his way to the middle of the room. he stands a few feet away from you, the rest of the boys walking over and creating a neat, horizontal line.
“you didn’t hear the stuff about the waterboy, did you?” matthew asks, pressing his lips together awkwardly.
“i absolutely did,” you answer shortly. “i also watched it happen. and the purposeful cleat to the nuts of that other player.”
“that other player being me,” hanbin says with a frown.
“oooh, tough luck,” you console, shaking your head. “they still work though, right?”
hanbin’s brow raises in surprise. to be able to catch him off-guard is literally thrilling.
“so, i assume you all know why we’re gathered here today,” you say, clicking your pen again.
“i’m guessing it’s not for a post-game interview,” jiwoong says, looking around the room.
you bite your cheek in a smile. “unfortunately, we do still have to do those. but first, i thought we’d start with an interview about a different game we all played this week.”
taerae’s brow raises immediately, turning to look at hanbin. “i thought you said she didn’t know about that!”
your face falls. “know about what?”
“she doesn’t. it was a play on words. she uses them in her poetry all the time and it was cute the first five times, but it’s actually becoming a bit redundant now if i do say so myself,” hanbin says, glaring at taerae. “but now you’ve gone and opened your gigantic mou—.”
“it was a game,” hao interjects flatly. “this week was all just a game to see who could fuck you first.”
leave it to hao to always cut the bullshit. and always cut deep.
you knew there had to be a reason why these boys that had bullied you for years suddenly all wanted a taste of you. this explanation did make the most sense.
“well, it wasn’t just a game,” jiwoong replies with a shrug. “it was a really good game.”
“yeah, i’d play again,” matthew says with a grin. “especially considering nobody won.”
you scoff.  “you literally lectured me for ten minutes about how you have no interest in fucking me, because i’m so tainted now.”
“yeah, i mean, definitely not how i prefer ‘em, but...” matthew smirks at taerae. “what was it you said yesterday? ‘a hole’s a hole’?”
taerae gulps as your eyes narrow at him in fury. “how—... how does he know you said that!?”
“hyung screen-recorded it,” matthew answers with an oblivious smile. “highest bidder got the file.”
“oh, so the game has mini-games now, too!?” you shout, staring daggers into hanbin. “do you have any moral decency left?”
“of course,” he answers, frowning as if he’s offended by the accusation. “if i didn’t, i would’ve just posted it. but i played it fair and took the 1,400 won.”
“YOU SOLD MY SEX TAPE FOR A DOLLAR!?”
“a dollar and five cents,” hanbin corrects with a smile.
“i forgot to bring my wallet to practice,” jiwoong says with a sorry shrug. “otherwise i would’ve bid at least two.”
“and i didn’t want it,” hao follows, absentmindedly examining his fingers. “i’m not depraved like the rest of them.”
you laugh incredulously. “oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who put 86,000 won tree sap up my—”
“but seriously, man, that was cold,” matthew interrupts, patting taerae on the back in praise. “didn’t know you were cool like that.”
“oh, well i—,” taerae starts, almost sounding like he’s about to deny it. but instead he just shrugs, meekly replying, “me neither.”
“that’s ‘cause he’s not,” you seethe. “how about you tell all of your cool, new friends how you sucked your thumb until sophomore year of—.”
“why don’t you pick a winner?” hanbin asks, smiling at you gently. “isn’t that even better than what we’d planned? you got to experience it all.”
your lips purse in contemplation. “like... pick who got the farthest?”
he shakes his head. “pick who you want to fuck you the most.”
“i see,” you hum after a moment. you scan the line of boys in their soccer uniforms and university apparel. each looks a different version of eager as they await your answer. but unfortunately, they’d all already fallen straight into your trap the moment they’d stepped in the activities lounge. 
you lean forward, pretending to size them all up.
“i’m sorry, but i don’t think i can do that,” you respond finally, hopping off of the desk. “you’ve all been nothing but awful to me this whole year. why would i ever pick one of you? do you think i fucking hate myself?”
the boys begin to give each other cautious glances. 
“don’t answer that,” you snap, setting your clipboard and pen down on the desk to your left.
matthew scratches the back of his neck, clarifying, “so… you’re not gonna pick?”
“no, i’m not gonna pick,” you assert, walking towards the door as your plan propels into motion. there’s a few disappointed sighs from the boys who’d made a game out of your body. it was demeaning. it was sadistic. 
it was… hot.
“why would i pick one of you,” you say as you lock the door, turning back around to face the gaggle of idiots hanging on your every word. “... when i can have all of you?”
“oh shit,” hao whispers, breaking the stunned silence filling the room. all of the other boys stare at you, jaws dropped.
“(y/n),” taerae pleadss quietly, eyes worried and sincere. “what are you saying? you don’t want that!”
“you don’t get to tell me what i want anymore,” you reply succinctly. you’re drinking it in, the feeling of being needed by five men at once. it fills you with a sense of power: the thing these same men tried to take away from you. it’s intoxicating. “and stop pretending like you still know me. you don’t. but...”
taerae’s left eyebrow raises ever-so-slightly as your thought hangs still-incomplete in the air.
“you could know me again,” you suggest softly, running the tip of your tongue across the back of your teeth. “and you could know me really well this time.”
your former best friend exhales, shaking his head weakly.
“you’re really gonna pass that up?” jiwoong asks, stepping forward indignantly as if he thinks taerae’s insane. “been waiting to get my hands back on you all week.”
“it sounds good to you then?” you reply, holding back a smile as jiwoong starts rolling up his jacket sleeves— a definitive nod in your direction. “is jiwoongie really the only taker?”
“fuck no,” matthew responds suddenly, any restraint he was previously demonstrating wiped away completely. “that’s what you want? i’m all in. let’s start now.”
hao hits his arm, hissing, “get it together.”
“why?” matt asks, folding his arms across his chest as he turns to face hao. “i wanna get my dick wet. so do you. so does everyone here. isn’t this the best solution?”
“yeah, isn’t it?” you ask, walking up to hao slowly. enough talking. it’s time for action. you close in on him, nearly chest-to-chest as you hold him with your gaze. you fight a smug grin as your hand gently tugs at the waistband of his joggers, “please... concertmaster?”
you’re thrown onto the desk behind you in seconds, hao’s long fingers wrapping around your jaw as his tongue slips down your throat. situating himself between your legs, your cores grow closer and closer together. he raises your arms, pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it on the floor in a careless ball.
“holy fucking—... this is really happening,” matthew mumbles as he takes a step closer, standing a few feet from your side so he can get a better view. though his brazenness isn’t so great for his teammates, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on in this context. you don’t want to give into him just yet, though. you have plans for him.
you glance over at jiwoong, worried for the state of his bottom lip as he chews it anxiously. you pull back from hao, wrapping your hand around his forearm to keep him close to you and batting your eyelashes invitingly at the older boy.
he points to himself, brow raising happily when you nod in affirmation. he walks over to you, obviously trying to stay as suave and nonchalant as he possibly can. 
“you want hyung instead?” hao asks possessively, an undeniable pout on his lips at the thought of being discarded for someone better.
you squeeze his arm reassuringly, whispering in his ear, “he wants me.”
“so do i,” he replies, running his hand up your thigh. the unexpected display of jealousy from hao sends you reeling; another wave of arousal rushing to your heat as jiwoong closes the gap between you. “need something, hyung?”
“i was just watching you swap saliva, when i remembered how we didn’t kiss on monday,” jiwoong answers, eyes locked with yours. “i just think you might like the privilege of kissing me.”
“oh, you think that, do you?” you reply with a smirk. “well, if you’re that certain... i’m willing to hear you out.”
jiwoong smiles, placing a hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours sweetly. he pulls back, perhaps trying to gauge your reaction. 
“well that was a let down,” matthew mumbles from beside you, rolling his eyes. you notice that taerae’s also come closer, standing a bit farther back than him but watching intently. and concernedly.
jiwoong laughs, kissing you again— this time, leaving you breathless with how passionately and skillfully his lips move against yours. it might be the best kiss you’ve ever had. you moan softly against him as hao’s hand now grazes over your clothed core.
your hand moves from hao’s arm to his fingers, holding him there against you. he huffs a laugh as jiwoong pulls back, smirking at hao.
“it’s all about teamwork,” jiwoong jokes, hand making its way to the button on your shorts. he undoes it quickly, advancing toward the zipper next. “that’ll be my quote for the interview.”
“i’ll send it to print,” you reply as jiwoong reattaches his lips to yours. your zipper comes undone and two sets of hands pull your shorts down, matthew walking over to lift you slightly as they shimmy them off of you. he smiles at you— a kind one.
“can i kiss you, too?” he asks, boyish looks on full display. you’d love to indulge him when he’s playing nice like this. 
you shake your head. “not yet.”
matthew sighs dramatically, hand running through his hair as hao chuckles.
“be careful,” jiwoong warns with a smirk. “he can only take so much of that.”
“oh, shut up,” matthew huffs before resuming his content observation of you.
hao pulls your panties to the side easily— flimsy, lace material you picked out just for tonight. “were you expecting this to happen?”
jiwoong sighs at the sight. “fuck, baby. were you dreaming about this? hm?”
you whimper as jiwoong kisses up your neck and hao rubs lazy circles around your clit with his thumb. 
“she loves that,” jiwoong whispers against your skin, glancing at hao next to him. “heart’s already racing.”
“is that right, baby? this feel good?” hao asks, suddenly applying more pressure. you throw your head back at the escalation, leaning back farther on your hands— subconsciously asking for even more friction. “dripping for us, honey girl.”
“please,” you beg with a mewl. “wanna feel you inside me.”
“which one?” jiwoong asks, glancing at hao.
“don’t care,” you answer, shaking your head.
“really? no preference?” hao asks with a smirk. “then i guess i’ll just leave and you can—.”
you grab hao by his shirt collar, causing him to stumble into you. he smiles: clearly happy he’s been chosen. 
jiwoong steps aside as hao takes his place in between your legs, hands in the air as he accepts his temporary rejection like a man. unfortunately this makes you want him all the more and you reach out your hand for him to hold.
“demoted to hand-holder,” he jokes, shaking his head. luckily, he figures out something to occupy him quickly as he sticks two of your fingers in his mouth— sucking on them gently.
your attention turns back to hao, who grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. with your free hand, you reach for the waistband of his joggers— tugging at it until he finally indulges you and pulls them down along with his boxers. 
he stares at your pretty core, bottom lip catching in his teeth before lining himself up with your entrance. you take in the sight of his cock, somehow as elegant and refined as he is. hao’s hands latch around your hips again, fingers digging into the plush of your ass as he slowly pushes himself inside you.
the stretch is unbelievable— nothing like the tiny cake of rosin. you clench around him instinctively and hao hisses at the added pressure.
“relax, baby,” he whispers, touching his forehead to yours in an uncharacteristically sweet gesture. “everything’s okay. we’re just gonna make some more music, is all.”
you take a deep breath at his words, walls relaxing as you exhale. hao takes the opportunity to push himself further inside of you until he reaches the hilt. you sigh with satisfaction, more than happy to be this full.
hao pulls back, starting to slowly thrust in and out of you until he finds the perfect rhythm. “you feel fucking amazing.”
you smile as he moves his hands to your thighs, picking them up and deepening the angle as you wrap your left arm around his neck for support. a moan escapes you as the tip of him hits your cervix. 
“that’s it, honey,” he grunts, thrusts becoming sharper as he continues to hit your back-most wall. “sound so, so pretty like that.”
the pressure inside of you is becoming overwhelming. you need something to occupy you further as your high steadily approaches. you sit up slightly, kicking jiwoong lightly with your foot until he lets go of your hand. once it’s free, your fingers move to palm him through his shorts until matthew chuckles behind him.
“seems like she wants more than a hand to hold,” he observes with a smirk.
jiwoong’s brow raises reflexively in excitement. he nods at you in permission as you reach into his uniform shorts and pull out his cock. he exhales breathily as you explore him with your hand before wrapping your fist around it and beginning to pump.
his head lolls back at the teasing pace as you return your attention to hao, whose cheeks have flushed with his orgasm quickly approaching.
you push his hair from his forehead with your free hand, trying to savor how needy he looks in this moment. “gonna cum for me, haohao?”
“fuck, yes,” he breathes as his rhythm begins to falter. probably the only time in his life that hao’s ever been off the beat. “your thighs. wanna paint your pretty thighs again.”
you don’t need any more convincing. “let’s see it then.”
a few more shallow thrusts until hao pulls out of you, hand wrapping around his cock— cumming with a sweet moan as he drips onto your inner thighs. his lips part as he stares at the mess he’s made before sinking to his knees and licking every last drop from your skin.
“damn,” matthew whispers. “that’s hardcore.”
“so much better than the rosin,” hao remarks, standing up and kissing you before pulling his joggers up and taking a step back. 
a draft hits your impossibly wet cunt, glancing to your right for someone to fill the spot between your legs. matthew’s eyes widen eagerly, smiling at you far too politely in the hope of being picked. but you still weren’t done letting him simmer.
luckily, someone else’s cock is already in your hand.
jiwoong is gripping the desk beside you as you continue to lazily pump him, trying his best to maintain control as he stares at the ceiling. it’s actually kind of cute.
“jiwoong-ah,” you call softly, hand stopping its motion. he meets your gaze, clearing his throat when you smile at him. “want you to fuck me.”
“i thought you might say that,” jiwoong replies nonchalantly, his tone starkly contrasting the speed at which he moves to stand between your legs. “let’s change things up, shall we?”
he holds his hand out to you, helping you off the desk and then turning you around to face it. your stomach pressed up against the wooden desk, jiwoong runs his hands down your waist— cupping your ass with a firm squeeze when he reaches it.
“like it?” you ask, wiggling your ass slightly for him.
“i’ve seen better,” he says with a shrug, hands still kneading hungrily at your cheeks.
you look up over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. “well i’d love to hear any suggestions for improvement that you have when this is all over.”
jiwoong gulps, biting his lip as he spreads your legs with his hand. you step a little further apart, gasping when he suddenly shoves his cock inside of you. 
“you’re sure you’ve done this before?” jiwoong asks with a groan as he laboredly manages to push himself all the way in. “kinda tight in here.”
“seriously? it so doesn’t work like that. and do you really think i’d lose my virginity to any of you assholes?” you retort, glancing over your shoulder to find taerae staring quietly back at you. “but it seems like someone here wants to lose there’s to me.”
everyone looks at taerae, who is standing with his arms folded across his chest— painfully hard even through his grey joggers. he shakes his head weakly, “th-that’s not true.”
you motion him closer, watching as he takes cautious, shaky steps towards you. like you’re not the person who knows the most about him in this world. like you’re a monster in a haunted house.
when he’s finally in reach, you grab his shirt sleeve and pull him to your side. he stares at you with wide eyes before you raise your brow expectantly and instruct: “kiss me.”
“what!?” he exclaims, like you’ve asked him to kill you instead. like he didn’t just kiss you yesterday. like he hadn’t just fucked your throat in the middle of class until you couldn’t speak. “i—...”
tired of his nonsense, you kiss him instead as jiwoong coils an arm up your stomach— groping at your chest as he thrusts into you: fast, hungry, and desperate. taerae pulls back after a moment, blinking at you before diving in for more.
the head of jiwoong’s cock pounds against the spongy, soft spot in your front wall and you can’t help but moan into taerae’s mouth as your climax approaches. he breaks your kiss, lips parted as you stare directly at him— whimpering for release as your hand balls his shirt sleeve into a fist.
jiwoong pulls you toward him so that your back is flush against his chest. you look over your shoulder, his lips immediately attaching to yours as you whine against them.
“i really like it,” jiwoong rambles deliriously between kisses, grabbing your ass so hard you think the flesh might bruise. “sorry for lying, baby. it’s perfect. s’perfect. gonna cum all over it.”
“oh my god,” you cry as your orgasm hits you. jiwoong sighs, most likely relieved he doesn’t have to keep holding on himself. “woongie.”
“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, sucking and biting at your neck as his thrusts become erratic. “such a good girl, cumming all over my cock.”
when your walls finally stop spasming around him, jiwoong pulls out of you— cumming with a weak sigh all over the top of your ass. just as he promised.
“good?” he asks, giving your ass one last smack before backing away.
you nod happily, the hot liquid starting to drip down onto your cheeks. “good.”
someone begins to blot at jiwoong’s cum with a piece of fabric and you turn over your shoulder to see who it is.
“you’re so fucking hot right now,” matthew compliments, cheeks noticeably redder than before as he wipes up the mess with his jersey. maybe you’re being too harsh in testing his patience. “you have no idea. or maybe you do, i dunno.”
you shift your body to face him, pressing your lips to his. he responds almost instantly, attempting to deepen the kiss when you pull away. “i’m gonna deal with this one first, actually,” you say, hand gripping taerae’s shirt sleeve a little tighter.
at your denial, matthew swallows hard— the metaphorical gloves starting to come off. “i think i’ve been waiting pretty patiently.”
“you have, honey,” you coo patronizingly, running your free hand through his hair. “do you think you can be patient for a little while longer?”
he inhales sharply at the soft language, pupils dilating as he unconsciously gives away his enjoyment of this tone. you wink, causing matthew to step back with an angry huff out of your reach. “whatever,” he reluctantly agrees before sulking over to a chair in the corner.
“he’s gonna explode,” hao mutters under his breath to jiwoong.
you turn to your right, eyes meeting taerae’s. he’s chewing his lip nervously and you’re not really sure what the right approach is. you take his hand and lead him over to the couch— lying down on your back and spreading your legs, gesturing for him to lie down in between them. after a long moment, he does.
you stare at his joggers until he gets the hint to pull them down, hard cock hitting his lower abdomen as he releases it. he stares at it, inches from your pussy before looking back up at you in disbelief.
“don’t get too worked up,” you tease, reaching your hand through your legs and wrapping it around his cock. you align it with your entrance as taerae’s chest falls closer to yours. “don’t you wanna last longer than you did yesterday?”
the tips of his ears burn at what seems to be a new mortally embarrassing core memory for him. “shut up.”
“taerae-ya,” you call, eyes meeting his again. you hope he can see how genuine you are as you ask, “do you really wanna do this?”
once more, his eyes are a whirlpool of conflict. you think he might even say no... until he suddenly shoves himself inside of you with one quick thrust.
“oh my fucking god,” he moans, harmonizing with your cry at the abrupt fullness. “oh my god.”
you wrap your legs around him to ensure he doesn’t try to bite off more than he can chew in this moment. “if you cum right now, i swear to whatever god you’re name-dropping, tae...”
“i won’t, i won’t,” he assures raspily, but the way his face is screwed up in pleasure leaves you unconvinced. 
“wouldn’t have to be giving that warning to me,” matthew mumbles saltily from the corner. “just saying.”
“damn, i never thought i’d watch someone i wasn’t fucking lose their virginity,” jiwoong comments with fascination. “was i this pathetic?”
“probably,” hao replies matter-of-factly. “you were pretty pathetic just now, too.”
“not. a. virgin,” taerae asserts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. you moan at the sensation, an audible queue for him to continue at that intensity. his motion is surprisingly fluid. you were positive he’d been lying about having lost his virginity, but now you weren’t so sure.
the brutal pace at which he’s bucking into you, however, is leaving you a bit dumb. it’s like he’s fucking the thoughts out of you. maybe it’s intentional. maybe it’s because you can’t stop whining for more.
“fuck, you’ve got her begging,” jiwoong says, tongue already licking his lips again as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust. “not bad, kid.”
matthew sighs exasperatedly in the corner. you know what he’s thinking: he could do better.
taerae shakes his head softly, biting his lip as he tries his best to keep going. “i—... fuck, you feel so good. don’t wanna stop, but...”
“you need to cum?” you finish for him.
he nods frantically. “but i can’t yet, i... have to last longer, like you want me to...”
your hand rushes to the back of his neck, toying with the hairs at the nape. he mewls, clearly seconds from busting inside of you. “i was just kidding with you, tae. you did so good. you can cum now.”
his forehead falls to your chest with relief. “thank fuck, oh my god. where? where do you want me to—?”
“tits,” you interject your answer, grabbing his hands in yours and putting them on your breasts. “want you to cum on my tits.”
taerae pulls out so fast, you’re afraid he’ll get whiplash— pumping his cock over your pretty chest and cumming with a throaty moan. “fuck. holy fuck.”
you look around the room as taerae sits up, having been so preoccupied with all these boys that you hadn’t realized that one of them had been virtually absent this whole time. you’re puzzled as you spot hanbin sitting pensively on a desk toward the front of the room— quietly watching you get fucked by all his friends. 
you stand up from the couch, hao grabbing your arm for stability until you can walk on your shaky legs— gently brushing past the rest of the boys and walking over to the star of the soccer team.
he smiles at you, one brow piquing in interest as his eyes trail down to the cum dripping down your chest. “to what do i owe the honor of your undivided attention?”
something clicks for you now as you stand in front of him. “it was your idea, wasn’t it? the competition?”
hanbin doesn’t answer, he just tilts his head.
“and if it was your idea, doesn’t it mean that you wanted to win?” you ask, hand finding his bare thigh— inching dangerously closer towards his clothed bulge. “you wanted to fuck me? wanted a more literal way to get under my skin?”
“i just told you the little play on word thing was getting a bit old, didn’t—.”
he stops abruptly as you begin to palm him gently through the fabric of his shorts. he exhales breathily at the feeling, but doesn’t give you any more than that. 
instead, he replies softly, “think you got me all figured out then?”
“mm,” you affirm, applying a bit more pressure. he places his hand over yours to keep you there, but he doesn’t make another sound. “think you’re fucked in the head.”
“what’s taking so long?” matthew asks impatiently, far too close to losing his temper.
“this is my game now. you already played yours,” you say, slipping your hand out from underneath hanbin’s. again, he doesn’t protest, but the way his eyes are shining lets you know he doesn’t want to lose your attention just yet. you take the bottom of his jersey and wipe taerae’s cum off your skin to assert your dominance. “they all want to play by the rules. but you don’t. so you’ll have to wait here, i guess. watch all your friends ruin me, when it was your idea in the first place.”
you head back over to the other boys, walking over to matthew and immediately straddling him in his chair. “didn’t i tell you to be patient?”
“wanna fuck you so bad,” matthew growls, hands digging hungrily at your waist. you grind down on him in a warning. he moans softly. “i mean, under the circumstances, i think i did a pretty good job.”
“yeah? you think?” you ask, your condescending tone and another harsh grind against him causing him to whimper. “so i should give you what you want, then?”
there’s a flash of hope in his eyes. you start to lean in to kiss him when you’re suddenly thrown from matthew’s lap and manhandled to the carpeted floor. hanbin hovers between your legs, hands kneading into your thighs.
“hey,” he says with a grin.
you grin back. “hey.”
“sorry about that,” he apologizes, pulling his shorts down and gently tapping at your entrance with the head of his cock. “but you were right. and i didn’t wanna be last.”
“and where the fuck is my apology, huh!?” matthew yells, standing up in a fury. “we were clearly in the middle of something.”
“well, now we’re in the middle of something,” hanbin replies, pushing himself inside of you with a shrug. you whimper at the stretch, fist balling up the neckline of hanbin’s jersey. “so deal with it.”
“you always do this!” matthew shouts and you’re nearly positive he’s about to punch his hyung, when hao and jiwoong stand up and force him into a chair between them. jiwoong rubs his back comfortingly, attempting to calm him down for the time being. 
“look at you,” hanbin says with a smirk— long, slow strokes into you that effectively drive you insane. “he’d throw hands just to get a moment with you. s’gotta make you feel pretty good, right?”
you nod as his hips continue to roll into yours, languid and teasing. you moan when his thumb finds your clit, circling it gently as he begins to increase the pace of his thrusts.
“yeah? well it makes me feel fucking awful,” he confesses, hips snapping into you harshly. you cry out, second orgasm building rapidly as you try to pay attention to hanbin’s words. “thought i was throwing you to the wolves, not a handful of potential suitors.”
you’re not quite sure what he’s trying to say, brain focused on only one thing right now. 
“gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks with a smirk, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead. you nod frantically in response, fingers digging into his upperarm as he brings you to the edge. “go on, then— let everyone know who made you feel this good.”
he’s expecting you to scream his name. instead, when your climax hits, you pull hanbin down to you by his collar— pressing your lips to his and moaning against them as your walls flutter around his cock. your action surprises him, eyes wide until he finally responds. deepening the kiss, his thrusts suddenly grow passionate and tender as he works you through your high.
hanbin moves his hand from your clit, bringing it up to your face and running his thumb across your cheek. coming up for air, he whispers, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“you’ve called me ugly to my face almost every thursday for a year,” you reply, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him even closer still. 
“it’s your fault, you... i—,” hanbin stutters, his thrusts grow haphazard as you feel his cock start to twitch inside you. “fuck, i’m gonna—.”
“how about you cum on my face then?” you suggest, tugging at hanbin’s hair— nails scratching at his scalp gently. “at least you won’t have to look at it if you cover it up.”
“that’s not—... m’not gonna...,” he protests before pulling out of you and climbing up to straddle your chest. hanbin pumps his cock in front of your face. “open your mouth.”
you prop yourself up on your elbows, opening your mouth for him and sticking out your tongue. with a throaty moan, he cums on your tongue— pumping out every last salty drop. you swallow it down, opening wide and showing hanbin that you’d done it. 
“fuck,” hanbin marvels before kissing you warmly. “i can’t believe you.”
“happy with the vulture you made?” you ask with a smirk.
he shakes his head. “not a vulture. a bird of fucking paradise.”
you’re about to tell him that a bird of paradise is a flower, not an actual species of bird, but hanbin stands up too quickly and returns to his seat on top of the corner desk— rubbing his forehead with his hands as if he’s upset by something. unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on him. you have one last boy to deal with.
you sit up on your knees, eyes locking with matthew before he abruptly turns away in the ultimate display of pettiness. seems like you were more than right about how he’d be in a situation like this. you crawl over to him seductively, placing your hands on his knees as you kneel in front of him.
“look at me, baby,” you plead in a soft voice, running your hands up and down his thighs. “wanna play with you.”
he sighs sadly. “do you? it kinda seems like you wanna play with everyone else more.”
“this kid,” jiwoong remarks with a chuckle. “weren’t you the one that said this was a great idea?”
“i didn’t think i’d have to wait so long to get a turn,” matthew sulks, eyes finally meeting yours again. you must look particularly enticing all fucked up like this, as a growl deep in his throat sounds at the sight of you. “waited so patiently.”
“you almost took a swing at hanbinnie, honey,” you remind him, reaching for the waistband of his shorts and pulling it down until matthew’s angry, thick cock is in your view. “how would you have explained his black eye to everyone at the championship game? hm?”
matthew whimpers as you wrap both hands around his length, popping the tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. “they w-wouldn’t be surprised.”
taerae snorts in response before returning to his silent observation from the couch.
you take him further into your mouth, sucking lazily as matthew breathes harder. when he’s nice and lubricated, you pull off of him and stand up— straddling him again like you had before hanbin interrupted you. this time, you lower yourself onto his impossibly hard cock with a satisfied sigh.
you start to fuck yourself on him, slow until you can find the right rhythm. there’s uncharacteristic silence coming from the boy beneath you.
“do you really want me the least?” matthew asks as your eyes meet, the adorable pout on his lips driving you crazy. 
you shake your head softly. “of course not, baby. but you’ve gotta be good. boys who choke waterboys have to be punished.”
matthew tilts his head innocently. “i didn’t mean to do that.”
you grab a fistful of hair at the back of his neck, yanking tightly. “don’t fucking lie to me.”
“holy shit,” jiwoong whispers.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” matthew whines quickly until your grip loosens. “i... i did sort of mean to do that.”
“i know, baby,” you reply, the pace of your bouncing growing quicker. “that’s why you had to go last this time.”
“this time?” hao and matthew ask at the same time.
you shrug. “so if you behave, you can go first next time.”
“next time?” jiwoong and taerae repeat.
matthew nods eagerly. “i can do that. i promise!”
“yeah?” you reply, promptly stopping your motion as you sink down onto him fully. “you promise to be a good boy?”
at the same time you ask the question, you squeeze his cock with your walls. 
“yes, mommy,” matthew cries, head lolling backward to expose his jugular to you. a stunned hush falls over the room. taerae’s jaw drops.
you glance behind you, three pairs of saucer-shaped eyes staring back at you. an impressed hao nods, holding out his hand for you to shake in respect. you do.
“wait, wait—... no, i—...” the boy underneath you pleads. “i didn’t—... that’s not what—.”
you squeeze your walls around him again, a strangled moan falling from his lips as he resumes his submissive state. “d’you want me to keep milking your cock or not, baby?”
“please,” he answers quickly, taking your hand and placing it gently at the base of his neck. “feels so good. want you to milk me dry.”
you oblige, thrilled to get exactly what you wanted out of him. you squeeze him tighter and tighter inside of you, grinding your hips softly against him— massaging softly up his neck with your hand until he’s begging for release.
“gonna cum,” matthew whines, hands moving down your waist before finally situating on your ass. “please, let me cum. (y/n). can’t take it anymore! gonna cum inside you if you don’t—.”
you hop off of him quickly, watching as his cock falls to his lower abdomen— cum covering his own skin as he sighs defeatedly through the ruined pleasure. his head falls to his hands, contemplating his life and where he went wrong.
“fuck, that was hot,” jiwoong says. you glance over, both him and hao now hard again in their joggers.
you smile, entirely satisfied with how this turned out. you try to take a step back toward the desk, but your legs aren’t as steady as you thought. taerae stands up from the couch, running to keep you on your feet. jiwoong and hao both get up after him, helping you up onto the desk with concerned expressions.
“are you okay?” taerae asks, bending down to the floor and grabbing your shirt. he hands it to you and you put it on with what little strength you have left. 
jiwoong walks over to his bag, grabbing a water bottle from the side pocket and bringing it back to you. he pops open the top and places it in your hand. “you need to drink, okay? we don’t need you passing out and us all getting questioned at a hospital.”
you nod, taking a sip from the water bottle. hao grabs a tissue from the box on the corner desk, walking over to you and dabbing your forehead gently.
this is bliss, you think. but... how does it all end?
CHOOSE YOUR ENDING ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
click above or here to choose from one of seven endings <3 jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group, and revenge
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
Tumblr media
gender neutral version below
EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: heavy petting (reader and male receiving), penetrative sex (reader receiving), mild cum play, oral (male receiving), mostly dom/soft!dom boys but also subby!matthew, this is a CONSENSUAL gang bang, also all raw penetration whoops. language surrounding reader's genitals and penetration is vague to keep things as inclusive as possible. a couple mentions of reader's body being gorgeous, pretty, other aesthetic compliments but no gendered language.
Tumblr media
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦ 
“enjoy the game! fighting!”
the words leave your mouth for the five hundredth time this evening as you hand out yet another set of programs. you give each attendee your most authentic smile as you greet them at the north entrance. 
“we’re at almost four hundred at the south entrance,” mina’s voice rings through the walkie-talkie on the table in front of you. it’s no surprise how well-attended tonight’s game is— everyone was invested in the long-held rivalry between your university and the opposing school. it had been a few years since your university’s soccer team had won this match-up. you wondered if they would tonight...
perhaps hanbin being made team captain this year would be the missing link to victory.
“hi! enjoy the game— fighting!” you exclaim once more. speaking of hanbin, he’d been right about one thing. tea with honey had repaired your voice perfectly. you’d even remembered to brew chamomile tea instead of black, so that good night’s sleep you’d been desperately needing was finally gifted to you.
you called mina that morning. you didn’t tell her what had happened per se, but you told her about each of the boys pursuing you... and you conveniently left jiwoong out of the equation for her own sake.
“i need to figure out how to get all of them in the same room,” you said, sending the finalized program for the big game to the campus activities director to print. you’d actually managed to finish it early this morning after emailing it to your sunbaenims to promptly approve. “but i don’t know how i’d manage to do that.”
“the campus activities interviews!” mina shouts excitedly. “sunbaenim was looking for a volunteer to do it for him tonight. if i make sure he recruits the right players, you’ll have them all to yourself in the activities lounge.”
all to yourself? 
just how lucky could you be?
~
“and number 13 approaches the goal, weaving through the opposition,” the announcer calls as hanbin dribbles the ball across the field. two defensive players from the rival team close in on him. “and he seems to be caught in a defensive trap. number 25 comes up behind him on his right and number 12 is on his left— will 13 be able to pass the ball successfully?”
you’re on the edge of your seat as hao waves at hanbin to signal he’s open. jiwoong’s making the same signal, but a bit more aggressively. personal issues with several members of the soccer team aside, you’re rooting for their win. it would mean a lot of positive attention and increased funding for your whole university to have the soccer team finally progress to the championship again.
you glance at the rest of the field. matthew’s in defense, the number 28 on his jersey shining in the flood lights as he blocks two rival offensive players all by himself. and, on the bench in his perfectly clean uniform sits taerae— number 14 kicking the grass with his cleats, not really paying attention to the riveting game going on in front of him.
“and 13 successfully passes to 25! 25 dodges a defensive player on his right, making a beeline for the goal,” the announcer continues, everyone in the stands beginning to rise to their feet as the anticipation grows unbearable. 
the scoreboard reads: 1-1.
hao is shooting distance from the goal, but he can’t seem to shake a couple defense players on his heels. there’s no way he’ll be able to make the goal like this. he looks at jiwoong, who is also preoccupied with defensive players of his own. it seems like all hope is lost until...
“number 13 sprints out ahead— a clear path between him and 25! 25 passes quickly to 13...”
hanbin’s cleat touches the ball, steadying himself for less than a second before he squares up and takes the shot.
the ball flies through the air. though it’s certainly going at least 70 miles per hour, it feels like you’re watching it in slow motion. mina grabs your hand, anxiety overflowing from every direction.
swish.
the ball flies over the goalie’s hands and into the netting behind him. the crowd erupts into cheers as the timeclock buzzer signals the end of the game.
hanbin stands in shock as the rest of his teammates rush toward him, engulfing him in their celebration. he’s lifted onto someone’s shoulders, grinning from ear to ear in pure joy and relief in a way you haven’t seen since you first met him. it’s a nice sight, if you’re being honest.
“i’m ready when you are,” mina says, squeezing your hand. “just fill me in after on how the revenge goes.”
“will do,” you say, making your way down the stairs of the stands. “just remember it’s what you asked for!”
the phrase sends a chill down your spine as you remember taerae’s thumb pressed to your tongue. you shake your head to snap out of it. there’s no time for hesitation.
you watch patiently as the celebration continues on the field. coach yang’s practically crying with pride. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him display an emotion other than boredom and annoyance before. camera now slung around your neck, you watch as the many attendees file out of the bleachers and out the exits. 
the players shake hands cordially with the other team, one of the rival defense players starting to give matthew a hard time— undoubtedly for being pig-headed and brash during the game. you’re sure he deserves a little roughing up, but you need him in good condition.
after the excitement finally dies down, the campus activities president makes his way over to you with a smirking mina at his side. “ready to get some good portraits of the players?”
you nod happily. more than ready.
“thanks for volunteering to do this for me. i’ve gotta be at the senior leadership conference way too early tomorrow morning,” your sunbaenim says as he and mina head out onto the field. “you can head to the activities lounge now and set up. mina will escort them right over!”
mina grins at you over her shoulder before you exit the soccer field and head towards kang hall. the warm night air calms you as you walk through the doors and make your way down the empty hallway, stopping when you finally reach the activities lounge. several desks, a few office chairs, and a small sofa litter the room.
this could work.
you grab the stack of interview consent forms out of the filing cabinet to your right before setting up the photo wall and camera at the back of the room. if, by chance, a few extra players are sent in, you’ll just have to get them out of the way first.
buzz buzz.
you check your phone to see a message from mina.
i’m sorry, coach yang made me take jiwoong, too. BLEGH. something about him being the left forward and “crucial to the game” or whatever. like, whatever helps him sleep at night, i guess. anyway, they’ll be there in a minute.
a minute. you can do this.
“two red flags!? it wasn’t even my fault. that guy was being a total dick,” you hear a muffled voice through the door. “so what i grabbed him by the collar? he should have a stronger windpipe if he can’t handle a little bit of good-natured choking!”
“it was the waterboy,” hao replies with a sigh. “you choked our waterboy.”
the door cracks open.
“he was in my way,” matthew says with a huff.
“he was trying to give you water,” taerae says quietly. 
“you guys never fucking support me,” matthew grumbles, the door flying open as he takes a step inside the lounge. his lips part at the sight of you as the other boys push him through.
soon you’re met with five pairs of wide eyes, all staring back at you from where you sit on top of a desk in the middle of the room— clipboard resting on your knees.
you smile at them, clicking your pen eerily. “welcome! and congratulations on your fantastic win. please line up across from me.”
after a few moments of uneasy silence, hanbin is the first to make his way to the middle of the room. he stands a few feet away from you, the rest of the boys walking over and creating a neat, horizontal line.
“you didn’t hear the stuff about the waterboy, did you?” matthew asks, pressing his lips together awkwardly.
“i absolutely did,” you answer shortly. “i also watched it happen. and the purposeful cleat to the nuts of that other player.”
“that other player being me,” hanbin says with a frown.
“oooh, tough luck,” you console, shaking your head. “they still work though, right?”
hanbin’s brow raises in surprise. to be able to catch him off-guard is literally thrilling.
“so, i assume you all know why we’re gathered here today,” you say, clicking your pen again.
“i’m guessing it’s not for a post-game interview,” jiwoong says, looking around the room.
you bite your cheek in a smile. “unfortunately, we do still have to do those. but first, i thought we’d start with an interview about a different game we all played this week.”
taerae’s brow raises immediately, turning to look at hanbin. “i thought you said (y/n) didn’t know about that!”
your face falls. “know about what?”
“i believe it was a play on words. (y/n)’s poetry, recently, has been littered with them. it was cute the first five times, but it’s actually becoming a bit redundant now if i do say so myself,” hanbin says, glaring at taerae. “but now you’ve gone and opened your gigantic mou—.”
“it was a game,” hao interjects flatly. “this week was all just a game to see who could fuck you first.”
leave it to hao to always cut the bullshit. and always cut deep.
you knew there had to be a reason why these boys that had bullied you for years suddenly all wanted a taste of you. this explanation did make the most sense.
“well, it wasn’t just a game,” jiwoong replies with a shrug. “it was a really good game.”
“yeah, i’d play again,” matthew says with a grin. “especially considering nobody won.”
you scoff.  “you literally lectured me for ten minutes about how you have no interest in fucking me, because i’m so tainted now.”
“yeah, i mean, definitely not how i prefer ‘em, but...” matthew smirks at taerae. “what was it you said yesterday? ‘a hole’s a hole’?”
taerae gulps as your eyes narrow at him in fury. “how—... how does he know you said that!?”
“hyung screen-recorded it,” matthew answers with an oblivious smile. “highest bidder got the file.”
“oh, so the game has mini-games now, too!?” you shout, staring daggers into hanbin. “do you have any moral decency left?”
“of course,” he answers, frowning as if he’s offended by the accusation. “if i didn’t, i would’ve just posted it. but i played it fair and took the 1,400 won.”
“YOU SOLD MY SEX TAPE FOR A DOLLAR!?”
“a dollar and five cents,” hanbin corrects with a smile.
“i forgot to bring my wallet to practice,” jiwoong says with a sorry shrug. “otherwise i would’ve bid at least two.”
“and i didn’t want it,” hao follows, absentmindedly examining his fingers. “i’m not depraved like the rest of them.”
you laugh incredulously. “oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who covered 86,000 won tree sap with my—”
“but seriously, man, that was cold,” matthew interrupts, patting taerae on the back in praise. “didn’t know you were cool like that.”
“oh, well i—,” taerae starts, almost sounding like he’s about to deny it. but instead he just shrugs, meekly replying, “me neither.”
“that’s ‘cause he’s not,” you seethe. “how about you tell all of your cool, new friends how you sucked your thumb until sophomore year of—.”
“why don’t you pick a winner?” hanbin asks, smiling at you gently. “isn’t that even better than what we’d planned? you got to experience it all.”
your lips purse in contemplation. “like... pick who got the farthest?”
he shakes his head. “pick who you want to fuck you the most.”
“i see,” you hum after a moment. you scan the line of boys in their soccer uniforms and university apparel. each looks a different version of eager as they await your answer. but unfortunately, they’d all already fallen straight into your trap the moment they’d stepped in the activities lounge. 
you lean forward, pretending to size them all up.
“i’m sorry, but i don’t think i can do that,” you respond finally, hopping off of the desk. “you’ve all been nothing but awful to me this whole year. why would i ever pick one of you? do you think i fucking hate myself?”
the boys begin to give each other cautious glances. 
“don’t answer that,” you snap, setting your clipboard and pen down on the desk to your left.
matthew scratches the back of his neck, clarifying, “so… you’re not gonna pick?”
“no, i’m not gonna pick,” you assert, walking towards the door as your plan propels into motion. there’s a few disappointed sighs from the boys who’d made a game out of your body. it was demeaning. it was sadistic. 
it was… hot.
“why would i pick one of you,” you say as you lock the door, turning back around to face the gaggle of idiots hanging on your every word. “... when i can have all of you?”
“oh shit,” hao whispers, breaking the stunned silence filling the room. all of the other boys stare at you, jaws dropped.
“(y/n),” taerae pleads quietly, eyes worried and sincere. “what are you saying? you don’t want that!”
“you don’t get to tell me what i want anymore,” you reply succinctly. you’re drinking it in, the feeling of being needed by five men at once. it fills you with a sense of power: the thing these same men tried to take away from you. it’s intoxicating. “and stop pretending like you still know me. you don’t. but...”
taerae’s left eyebrow raises ever-so-slightly as your thought hangs still-incomplete in the air.
“you could know me again,” you suggest softly, running the tip of your tongue across the back of your teeth. “and you could know me really well this time.”
your former best friend exhales, shaking his head weakly.
“you’re really gonna pass that up?” jiwoong asks, stepping forward indignantly as if he thinks taerae’s insane. “been waiting to get my hands back on you all week.”
“it sounds good to you then?” you reply, holding back a smile as jiwoong starts rolling up his jacket sleeves— a definitive nod in your direction. “is jiwoongie really the only taker?”
“fuck no,” matthew responds suddenly, any restraint he was previously demonstrating wiped away completely. “that’s what you want? i’m all in. let’s start now.”
hao hits his arm, hissing, “get it together.”
“why?” matt asks, folding his arms across his chest as he turns to face hao. “i wanna get my dick wet. so do you. so does everyone here. isn’t this the best solution?”
“yeah, isn’t it?” you ask, walking up to hao slowly. enough talking. it’s time for action. you close in on him, nearly chest-to-chest as you hold him with your gaze. you fight a smug grin as your hand gently tugs at the waistband of his joggers, “please... concertmaster?”
you’re thrown onto the desk behind you in seconds, hao’s long fingers wrapping around your jaw as his tongue slips down your throat. situating himself between your legs, your cores grow closer and closer together. he raises your arms, pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it on the floor in a careless ball.
“holy fucking—... this is really happening,” matthew mumbles as he takes a step closer, standing a few feet from your side so he can get a better view. though his brazenness isn’t so great for his teammates, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on in this context. you don’t want to give into him just yet, though. you have plans for him.
you glance over at jiwoong, worried for the state of his bottom lip as he chews it anxiously. you pull back from hao, wrapping your hand around his forearm to keep him close to you and batting your eyelashes invitingly at the older boy.
he points to himself, brow raising happily when you nod in affirmation. he walks over to you, obviously trying to stay as suave and nonchalant as he possibly can. 
“you want hyung instead?” hao asks possessively, an undeniable pout on his lips at the thought of being discarded for someone better.
you squeeze his arm reassuringly, whispering in his ear, “he wants me.”
“so do i,” he replies, running his hand up your thigh. the unexpected display of jealousy from hao sends you reeling; another wave of arousal rushing to your heat as jiwoong closes the gap between you. “need something, hyung?”
“i was just watching you swap saliva, when i remembered how we didn’t kiss on monday,” jiwoong answers, eyes locked with yours. “i just think you might like the privilege of kissing me.”
“oh, you think that, do you?” you reply with a smirk. “well, if you’re that certain... i’m willing to hear you out.”
jiwoong smiles, placing a hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours sweetly. he pulls back, perhaps trying to gauge your reaction. 
“well that was a let down,” matthew mumbles from beside you, rolling his eyes. you notice that taerae’s also come closer, standing a bit farther back than him but watching intently. and concernedly.
jiwoong laughs, kissing you again— this time, leaving you breathless with how passionately and skillfully his lips move against yours. it might be the best kiss you’ve ever had. you moan softly against him as hao’s hand now grazes over your clothed core.
your hand moves from hao’s arm to his fingers, holding him there against you. he huffs a laugh as jiwoong pulls back, smirking at hao.
“it’s all about teamwork,” jiwoong jokes, hand making its way to the button on your shorts. he undoes it quickly, advancing toward the zipper next. “that’ll be my quote for the interview.”
“i’ll send it to print,” you reply as jiwoong reattaches his lips to yours. your zipper comes undone and two sets of hands pull your shorts down, matthew walking over to lift you slightly as they shimmy them off of you. he smiles at you— a kind one.
“can i kiss you, too?” he asks, boyish looks on full display. you’d love to indulge him when he’s playing nice like this. 
you shake your head. “not yet.”
matthew sighs dramatically, hand running through his hair as hao chuckles.
“be careful,” jiwoong warns with a smirk. “he can only take so much of that.”
“oh, shut up,” matthew huffs before resuming his content observation of you.
hao bites his lip when he realizes you weren’t wearing any underwear. “were you expecting this to happen?”
jiwoong sighs at the sight. “fuck, baby. were you dreaming about this? hm?”
you whimper as jiwoong kisses up your neck and hao begins to lazily stroke you where you need him most.
“you love that, don’t you?” jiwoong whispers against your skin, glancing at hao next to him. “heart’s already racing.”
“is that right, baby? this feel good?” hao asks, suddenly applying more pressure. you throw your head back at the escalation, leaning back farther on your hands— subconsciously asking for even more friction.
“please,” you beg with a mewl. “wanna feel you inside me.”
“which one?” jiwoong asks, glancing at hao.
“don’t care,” you answer, shaking your head.
“really? no preference?” hao asks with a smirk. “then i guess i’ll just leave and you can—.”
you grab hao by his shirt collar, causing him to stumble into you. he smiles: clearly happy he’s been chosen. 
jiwoong steps aside as hao takes his place in between your legs, hands in the air as he accepts his temporary rejection like a man. unfortunately this makes you want him all the more and you reach out your hand for him to hold.
“demoted to hand-holder,” he jokes, shaking his head. luckily, he figures out something to occupy him quickly as he sticks two of your fingers in his mouth— sucking on them gently.
your attention turns back to hao, who grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk and leaning you back so that you’re fully exposed to him. with your free hand, you reach for the waistband of his joggers— tugging at it until he finally indulges you and pulls them down along with his boxers. 
he stares at your opening, bottom lip catching in his teeth before lining himself up with your entrance. you take in the sight of his cock, somehow as elegant and refined as he is. hao’s hands latch around your hips again, fingers digging into the plush of your ass as he slowly pushes himself inside you.
the stretch is unbelievable and you clench around him instinctively, causing him to hiss at the added pressure.
“relax, baby,” he whispers, running his hands up and down your thighs to calm you in an uncharacteristically sweet gesture. “everything’s okay. we’re just gonna make some more music, is all.”
you take a deep breath at his words, walls relaxing as you exhale. hao takes the opportunity to push himself further inside of you until he reaches the hilt. you sigh with satisfaction, more than happy to be this full.
hao pulls back, starting to slowly thrust in and out of you until he finds the perfect rhythm. “you feel fucking amazing.”
you’re unable to contain the pretty sounds that have been building up inside you as he fucks you even deeper.
“that’s it, honey,” he grunts, thrusts becoming sharper as he continues to hit your back-most wall. “sound so, so pretty like that.”
the pressure inside of you is becoming overwhelming. you need something to occupy you further as your high steadily builds. you sit up slightly, kicking jiwoong lightly with your foot until he lets go of your hand. once it’s free, your fingers move to palm him through his shorts until matthew chuckles behind him.
“seems like you want more than a hand to hold,” he observes with a smirk.
jiwoong’s brow raises reflexively in excitement. he nods at you in permission as you reach into his uniform shorts and pull out his cock. he exhales breathily as you explore him with your hand before wrapping your fist around it and beginning to pump.
his head lolls back at the teasing pace as you return your attention to hao, whose cheeks have flushed with his orgasm quickly approaching.
you push his hair from his forehead with your free hand, trying to savor how needy he looks in this moment. “gonna cum for me, haohao?”
“fuck, yes,” he breathes as his rhythm begins to falter. probably the only time in his life that hao’s ever been off the beat. “your thighs. wanna paint your perfect thighs again.”
you don’t need any more convincing. “let’s see it then.”
a few more shallow thrusts until hao pulls out of you, hand wrapping around his cock— cumming with a sweet moan as he drips onto your inner thighs. his lips part as he stares at the mess he’s made before sinking to his knees and licking every last drop from your skin.
“damn,” matthew whispers. “that’s hardcore.”
“so much better than the rosin,” hao remarks, standing up and kissing you before pulling his joggers up and taking a step back. 
a draft hits your aching heat, glancing to your right for someone to fill the spot between your legs. matthew’s eyes widen eagerly, smiling at you far too politely in the hope of being picked. but you still weren’t done letting him simmer.
luckily, someone else’s cock is already in your hand.
jiwoong is gripping the desk beside you as you continue to lazily pump him, trying his best to maintain control as he stares at the ceiling. it’s actually kind of cute.
“jiwoong-ah,” you call softly, hand stopping its motion. he meets your gaze, clearing his throat when you smile at him. “want you to fuck me.”
“i thought you might say that,” jiwoong replies nonchalantly, his tone starkly contrasting the speed at which he moves to stand between your legs. “let’s change things up, shall we?”
he holds his hand out to you, helping you off the desk and then turning you around to face it. your stomach pressed up against the wooden desk, jiwoong runs his hands down your waist— cupping your ass with a firm squeeze when he reaches it.
“like it?” you ask, wiggling your ass slightly for him.
“i’ve seen better,” he says with a shrug, hands still kneading hungrily at your cheeks.
you look up over your shoulder, meeting his gaze. “well i’d love to hear any suggestions for improvement that you have when this is all over.”
jiwoong gulps, biting his lip as he spreads your legs with his hand. you step a little further apart, gasping when he suddenly shoves his cock inside of you. 
“you’re sure you’ve done this before?” jiwoong asks with a groan as he laboredly manages to push himself all the way in. “kinda tight in here.”
“seriously? do you really think i’d lose my virginity to any of you assholes?” you retort, glancing over your shoulder to find taerae staring quietly back at you. “but it seems like someone here wants to lose there’s to me.”
everyone looks at taerae, who is standing with his arms folded across his chest— painfully hard even through his grey joggers. he shakes his head weakly, “th-that’s not true.”
you motion him closer, watching as he takes cautious, shaky steps towards you. like you’re not the person who knows the most about him in this world. like you’re a monster in a haunted house.
when he’s finally in reach, you grab his shirt sleeve and pull him to your side. he stares at you with wide eyes before you raise your brow expectantly and instruct: “kiss me.”
“what!?” he exclaims, like you’ve asked him to kill you instead. like he didn’t just kiss you yesterday. like he hadn’t just fucked your throat in the middle of class until you couldn’t speak. “i—...”
tired of his nonsense, you kiss him instead as jiwoong coils an arm up your stomach— groping at your chest as he thrusts into you: fast, hungry, and desperate. taerae pulls back after a moment, blinking at you before diving in for more.
the head of jiwoong’s cock pounds into your sweet spot and you can’t help but moan into taerae’s mouth as your climax approaches. he breaks your kiss, lips parted as you stare directly at him— whimpering for release as your hand balls his shirt sleeve into a fist.
jiwoong pulls you toward him so that your back is flush against his chest. you look over your shoulder, his lips immediately attaching to yours as you whine against them.
“i really like it,” jiwoong rambles deliriously between kisses, grabbing your ass so hard you think the flesh might bruise. “sorry for lying, baby. it’s perfect. s’perfect. gonna cum all over it.”
“oh my god,” you cry as your orgasm hits you. jiwoong sighs, most likely relieved he doesn’t have to keep holding on himself. “woongie.”
“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, sucking and biting at your neck as his thrusts become erratic. “so good for me, cumming all over my cock.”
when you come down, jiwoong pulls out of you— cumming with a weak sigh all over the top of your ass. just as he promised.
“good?” he asks, giving your ass one last smack before backing away.
you nod happily, the hot liquid starting to drip down onto your cheeks. “good.”
someone begins to blot at jiwoong’s cum with a piece of fabric and you turn over your shoulder to see who it is.
“you’re so fucking hot right now,” matthew compliments, cheeks noticeably redder than before as he wipes up the mess with his jersey. maybe you’re being too harsh in testing his patience. “you have no idea. or maybe you do, i dunno.”
you shift your body to face him, pressing your lips to his. he responds almost instantly, attempting to deepen the kiss when you pull away. “i’m gonna deal with this one first, actually,” you say, hand gripping taerae’s shirt sleeve a little tighter.
at your denial, matthew swallows hard— the metaphorical gloves starting to come off. “i think i’ve been waiting pretty patiently.”
“you have, honey,” you coo patronizingly, running your free hand through his hair. “do you think you can be patient for a little while longer?”
he inhales sharply at the soft language, pupils dilating as he unconsciously gives away his enjoyment of this tone. you wink, causing matthew to step back with an angry huff out of your reach. “whatever,” he reluctantly agrees before sulking over to a chair in the corner.
“he’s gonna explode,” hao mutters under his breath to jiwoong.
you turn to your right, eyes meeting taerae’s. he’s chewing his lip nervously and you’re not really sure what the right approach is. you take his hand and lead him over to the couch— lying down on your back and spreading your legs, gesturing for him to lie down in between them. after a long moment, he does.
you stare at his joggers until he gets the hint to pull them down, hard cock hitting his lower abdomen as he releases it. he stares at it, inches from your core before looking back up at you in disbelief.
“don’t get too worked up,” you tease, reaching your hand through your legs and wrapping it around his cock. you align it with your entrance as taerae’s chest falls closer to yours. “don’t you wanna last longer than you did yesterday?”
the tips of his ears burn at what seems to be a new mortally embarrassing core memory for him. “shut up.”
“taerae-ya,” you call, eyes meeting his again. you hope he can see how genuine you are as you ask, “do you really wanna do this?”
once more, his eyes are a whirlpool of conflict. you think he might even say no... until he suddenly shoves himself inside of you with one quick thrust.
“oh my fucking god,” he moans, harmonizing with your cry at the abrupt fullness. “oh my god.”
you wrap your legs around him to ensure he doesn’t try to bite off more than he can chew in this moment. “if you cum right now, i swear to whatever god you’re name-dropping, tae...”
“i won’t, i won’t,” he assures raspily, but the way his face is screwed up in pleasure leaves you unconvinced. 
“wouldn’t have to be giving that warning to me,” matthew mumbles saltily from the corner. “just saying.”
“damn, i never thought i’d watch someone i wasn’t fucking lose their virginity,” jiwoong comments with fascination. “was i this pathetic?”
“probably,” hao replies matter-of-factly. “you were pretty pathetic just now, too.”
“not. a. virgin,” taerae asserts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. you moan at the sensation, an audible queue for him to continue at that intensity. his motion is surprisingly fluid. you were positive he’d been lying about having lost his virginity, but now you weren’t so sure.
the brutal pace at which he’s bucking into you, however, is leaving you a bit dumb. it’s like he’s fucking the thoughts out of you. maybe it’s intentional. maybe it’s because you can’t stop whining for more.
“fuck, you’ve got (y/n) begging,” jiwoong says, tongue already licking his lips again as he watches your body bounce with each thrust. “not bad, kid.”
matthew sighs exasperatedly in the corner. you know what he’s thinking: he could do better.
taerae shakes his head softly, biting his lip as he tries his best to keep going. “i—... fuck, you feel so good. don’t wanna stop, but...”
“you need to cum?” you finish for him.
he nods frantically. “but i can’t yet, i... have to last longer, like you want me to...”
your hand rushes to the back of his neck, toying with the hairs at the nape. he mewls, clearly seconds from busting inside of you. “i was just kidding with you, tae. you did so good. you can cum now.”
his forehead falls to your chest with relief. “thank fuck, oh my god. where? where do you want me to—?”
“stomach,” you interject your answer, grabbing his hands in yours and putting them on your breasts. “want you to cum on my stomach.”
taerae pulls out so fast, you’re afraid he’ll get whiplash— pumping his cock over your stomach and cumming with a breathy moan. “fuck. holy fuck.”
you look around the room as taerae sits up, having been so preoccupied with all these boys that you hadn’t realized that one of them had been virtually absent this whole time. you’re puzzled as you spot hanbin sitting pensively on a desk toward the front of the room— quietly watching you get fucked by all his friends. 
you stand up from the couch, hao grabbing your arm for stability until you can walk on your shaky legs— gently brushing past the rest of the boys and walking over to the star of the soccer team.
he smiles at you, one brow piquing in interest as his eyes trail down to the cum dripping down your stomach. “to what do i owe the honor of your undivided attention?”
something clicks for you now as you stand in front of him. “it was your idea, wasn’t it? the competition?”
hanbin doesn’t answer, he just tilts his head.
“and if it was your idea, doesn’t it mean that you wanted to win?” you ask, hand finding his bare thigh— inching dangerously closer towards his clothed bulge. “you wanted to fuck me? wanted a more literal way to get under my skin?”
“i just told you the little play on word thing was getting a bit old, didn’t—.”
he stops abruptly as you begin to palm him gently through the fabric of his shorts. he exhales breathily at the feeling, but doesn’t give you any more than that. 
instead, he replies softly, “think you got me all figured out then?”
“mm,” you affirm, applying a bit more pressure. he places his hand over yours to keep you there, but he doesn’t make another sound. “think you’re fucked in the head.”
“what’s taking so long?” matthew asks impatiently, far too close to losing his temper.
“this is my game now. you already played yours,” you say, slipping your hand out from underneath hanbin’s. again, he doesn’t protest, but the way his eyes are shining lets you know he doesn’t want to lose your attention just yet. you take the bottom of his jersey and wipe taerae’s cum off your skin to assert your dominance. “they all want to play by the rules. but you don’t. so you’ll have to wait here, i guess. watch all your friends ruin me, when it was your idea in the first place.”
you head back over to the other boys, walking over to matthew and immediately straddling him in his chair. “didn’t i tell you to be patient?”
“wanna fuck you so bad,” matthew growls, hands digging hungrily at your waist. you grind down on him in a warning. he moans softly. “i mean, under the circumstances, i think i did a pretty good job.”
“yeah? you think?” you ask, your condescending tone and another harsh grind against him causing him to whimper. “so i should give you what you want, then?”
there’s a flash of hope in his eyes. you start to lean in to kiss him when you’re suddenly thrown from matthew’s lap and manhandled to the carpeted floor. hanbin hovers between your legs, hands kneading into your thighs.
“hey,” he says with a grin.
you grin back. “hey.”
“sorry about that,” he apologizes, pulling his shorts down and gently tapping at your entrance with the head of his cock. “but you were right. and i didn’t wanna be last.”
“and where the fuck is my apology, huh!?” matthew yells, standing up in a fury. “we were clearly in the middle of something.”
“well, now we’re in the middle of something,” hanbin replies, burying himself inside of you with a shrug. you whimper at the stretch, fist balling up the neckline of hanbin’s jersey. “so deal with it.”
“you always do this!” matthew shouts and you’re nearly positive he’s about to punch his hyung, when hao and jiwoong stand up and force him into a chair between them. jiwoong rubs his back comfortingly, attempting to calm him down for the time being. 
“look at you,” hanbin says with a smirk— long, slow strokes into you that effectively drive you insane. “he’d throw hands just to get a moment with you. s’gotta make you feel pretty good, right?”
you nod as his hips continue to roll into yours, languid and teasing. you moan when he begins to increase the pace of his thrusts.
“yeah? well it makes me feel fucking awful,” he confesses, hips snapping into you harshly. you cry out, second orgasm building rapidly as you try to pay attention to hanbin’s words. “thought i was throwing you to the wolves, not a handful of potential suitors.”
you’re not quite sure what he’s trying to say, brain focused on only one thing right now. 
“gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks with a smirk, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead. you nod frantically in response, fingers digging into his upperarm as he brings you to the edge. “go on, then— let everyone know who made you feel this good.”
he’s expecting you to scream his name. instead, when your climax hits, you pull hanbin down to you by his collar— pressing your lips to his and moaning against them. your action surprises him, eyes wide until he finally responds. deepening the kiss, his thrusts suddenly grow passionate and tender as he works you through your high.
hanbin brings his hand up to your face and runs his thumb across your cheek. coming up for air, he whispers, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“you’ve called me ugly to my face almost every thursday for a year,” you reply, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him even closer still. 
“it’s your fault, you... i—,” hanbin stutters, his thrusts grow haphazard as you feel his cock start to twitch inside you. “fuck, i’m gonna—.”
“how about you cum on my face then?” you suggest, tugging at hanbin’s hair— nails scratching at his scalp gently. “at least you won’t have to look at it if you cover it up.”
“that’s not—... m’not gonna...,” he protests before pulling out of you and climbing up to straddle your chest. hanbin pumps his cock in front of your face. “open your mouth.”
you prop yourself up on your elbows, opening your mouth for him and sticking out your tongue. with a throaty moan, he cums on your tongue— pumping out every last salty drop. you swallow it down, opening wide and showing hanbin that you’d done it. 
“fuck,” hanbin marvels before kissing you warmly. “i can’t believe you.”
“happy with the vulture you made?” you ask with a smirk.
he shakes his head. “not a vulture. a bird of fucking paradise.”
you’re about to tell him that a bird of paradise is a flower, not an actual species of bird, but hanbin stands up too quickly and returns to his seat on top of the corner desk— rubbing his forehead with his hands as if he’s upset by something. unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on him. you have one last boy to deal with.
you sit up on your knees, eyes locking with matthew before he abruptly turns away in the ultimate display of pettiness. seems like you were more than right about how he’d be in a situation like this. you crawl over to him seductively, placing your hands on his knees as you kneel in front of him.
“look at me, baby,” you plead in a soft voice, running your hands up and down his thighs. “wanna play with you.”
he sighs sadly. “do you? it kinda seems like you wanna play with everyone else more.”
“this kid,” jiwoong remarks with a chuckle. “weren’t you the one that said this was a great idea?”
“i didn’t think i’d have to wait so long to get a turn,” matthew sulks, eyes finally meeting yours again. you must look particularly enticing all fucked up like this, as a growl deep in his throat sounds at the sight of you. “waited so patiently.”
“you almost took a swing at hanbinnie, honey,” you remind him, reaching for the waistband of his shorts and pulling it down until matthew’s angry, thick cock is in your view. “how would you have explained his black eye to everyone at the championship game? hm?”
matthew whimpers as you wrap both hands around his length, popping the tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. “they w-wouldn’t be surprised.”
taerae snorts in response before returning to his silent observation from the couch.
you take him further into your mouth, sucking lazily as matthew breathes harder. when he’s nice and lubricated, you pull off of him and stand up— straddling him again like you had before hanbin interrupted you. this time, you lower yourself onto his impossibly hard cock with a satisfied sigh.
you start to fuck yourself on him, slow until you can find the right rhythm. there’s uncharacteristic silence coming from the boy beneath you.
“do you really want me the least?” matthew asks as your eyes meet, the adorable pout on his lips driving you crazy. 
you shake your head softly. “of course not, baby. but you’ve gotta be good. boys who choke waterboys have to be punished.”
matthew tilts his head innocently. “i didn’t mean to do that.”
you grab a fistful of hair at the back of his neck, yanking tightly. “don’t fucking lie to me.”
“holy shit,” jiwoong whispers.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” matthew whines quickly until your grip loosens. “i... i did sort of mean to do that.”
“i know, baby,” you reply, the pace of your bouncing growing quicker. “that’s why you had to go last this time.”
“this time?” hao and matthew ask at the same time.
you shrug. “so if you behave, you can go first next time.”
“next time?” jiwoong and taerae repeat.
matthew nods eagerly. “i can do that. i promise!”
“yeah?” you reply, promptly stopping your motion as you sink down onto him fully. “you promise to be a good boy?”
at the same time you ask the question, you squeeze his cock with your walls. 
matthew lets out a pathetic cry, head lolling backward to expose his jugular to you. a stunned hush falls over the room. taerae’s jaw drops.
you glance behind you, three pairs of saucer-shaped eyes staring back at you. an impressed hao nods, holding out his hand for you to shake in respect. you do.
“wait, wait—... no, i—...” the boy underneath you pleads. “i didn’t—... that’s not what—.”
you squeeze your walls around him again, a strangled moan falling from his lips as he resumes his submissive state. “d’you want me to keep milking your cock or not, baby?”
“please,” he answers quickly, taking your hand and placing it gently at the base of his neck. “feels so good. want you to milk me dry.”
you oblige, thrilled to get exactly what you wanted out of him. you squeeze him tighter and tighter inside of you, grinding your hips softly against him— massaging softly up his neck with your hand until he’s begging for release.
“gonna cum,” matthew whines, hands moving down your waist before finally situating on your ass. “please, let me cum. (y/n). can’t take it anymore! gonna cum inside you if you don’t—.”
you hop off of him quickly, watching as his cock falls to his lower abdomen— cum covering his own skin as he sighs defeatedly through the ruined pleasure. his head falls to his hands, contemplating his life and where he went wrong.
“fuck, that was hot,” jiwoong says. you glance over, both him and hao now hard again through their pants.
you smile, entirely satisfied with how this turned out. you try to take a step back toward the desk, but your legs aren’t as steady as you thought. taerae stands up from the couch, running to keep you on your feet. jiwoong and hao both get up after him, helping you up onto the desk with concerned expressions.
“are you okay?” taerae asks, bending down to the floor and grabbing your shirt. he hands it to you and you put it on with what little strength you have left. 
jiwoong walks over to his bag, grabbing a water bottle from the side pocket and bringing it back to you. he pops open the top and places it in your hand. “you need to drink, okay? we don’t need you passing out and us all getting questioned at a hospital.”
you nod, taking a sip from the water bottle. hao grabs a tissue from the box on the corner desk, walking over to you and dabbing your forehead gently.
this is bliss, you think. but... how does it all end?
CHOOSE YOUR ENDING ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
click above or here to choose from one of seven endings <3 jiwoong, hao, matthew, hanbin, taerae, group (poly), and group (revenge)
334 notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 2 months
Text
know my name - 4
Tumblr media
series masterlist
pairing: soft!dark bucky barnes x single mom!reader
warnings: 18+ only. angst. violence. winter soldier. allusion to murder. lmk if i’m missing something that should be included.
words: 3.1k
notes: 🫣 talk about a meet cute lol. hope you guys are getting the picture a little better with this addition. and thank you so much for reading and showing interest in this series, i have been loving seeing everyone’s responses and thoughts and i’m excited to write more! as always, comments and reblogs are welcomed and so appreciated. thank you for reading! 🩵
Tumblr media
the way before:
The wind whips around you as you come up on City Hall, your coffee in one hand and your phone in the other.
It’s been twenty minutes now since you got here, sitting in your car impatiently waiting for Veronica to come out. You called her three times before you decided to actually get out and grab her yourself.
She had been so excited all week, counting down the days until her meeting with the soon to be congressman. She had spent so many weekends canvassing for his campaign around campus, when the votes came in you swore it was almost like she had won the seat herself, she was so happy.
When you first met her, freshman year of college, you were a little put off by her intense enthusiasm and her love for politics. She was a true activist if you’d ever met one. You sometimes think if it wasn’t for that journalism class you took together, you’d never have ended up being as close as you were.
You’re grateful though; she’s so easily become one of the best friends you’ve ever had.
Which is why you don’t mind spending your free Friday afternoon picking her up from downtown. Especially when she’s offered to pay for dinner after.
But she had said five o’clock sharp…Mr. Tedder had an important meeting right after her interview with him and she’d need to leave right away. You check your phone as you get to the door.
5:18.
You make a face as you read the time, not of annoyance, but of perturbance.
As soon as you pull the door open, you can tell.
Something’s not right here.
You can’t place it, but you can feel it. A little gnawing as you look around at the empty room. It’s quiet, disturbingly so.
Eerie.
You take a half step closer to the empty desk as your eyes continue to scan all around.
You’re gripping your phone as you feel your heart rate tick up and set your coffee on the desk.
What the hell is wrong?
You gulp and look down to the screen, your phone unlocking with your face. You go to your call log and hit Veronica’s contact again.
You put the phone to your ear as you idle in the lobby and your stomach drops as you hear the familiar ring of her phone sounding from just down the long hallway.
You follow the sound with your gaze and ever so slowly force yourself to step toward it.
One step, then another. You feel your heart racing as you get to the mouth of the hallway. You can see the doors of the council chambers just slightly open to the left, a bit further down the hall, but that’s not where the ring is coming from. You steady your accelerated breathing as best you can as you step further into the hall. Straight down is the heavy wooden door that leads to the mayor's office.
You scare yourself as the sound cuts off and her voicemail tone starts sounding in your ear.
You pull the phone away as you gape at the door.
What do you do?
Why do you feel so on edge?
Where the hell is everyone?
Slowly, you get closer.
Just as you pass the doors of the council chamber, you feel something press against your back.
Instantly, you’re frozen. Eyes wide as you're nudged forward. You hear a click.
You don’t have to turn to look to know there’s a gun on you.
“Walk.”
The voice is dark and gravelly, low and almost rough; as if it hadn’t been used in a while.
He doesn’t know what took him so long to approach you.
He saw you coming the second you stepped out of your car and headed to the building. He knows what he’s supposed to do. He knows his mission. And he knows there cannot be any loose ends.
But he lets you enter. And he lets you look around. He watches, and for reasons he doesn’t understand, he’s struck by you. You have him off his axis.
You haven’t even looked at him yet but he can’t take his eyes off of you.
He wants to let you go but clean up isn’t here yet. He’s… conflicted.
Hide, he thinks. If he can hide you, you won’t be a problem. Not for him and not for them.
You listen easily and he’s appreciative. He doesn’t want to hurt you.
He can hear your heartbeat as it pounds and the delicate sound of your stressed breathing as he walks you forward.
You were calling the girl he found in the mayor’s office. Her presence as unexpected as yours. But he had his mission. He knew what he had to do. And, unlike with you, he didn’t hesitate.
Most missions his orders aren’t so personal. He wouldn’t have to get so close. To put people aside from his target at risk. But this man had made his captors seethe. He wasn’t just in their way, he was on the verge of dismantling their local operations entirely and they could not have that. He angered the wrong men and so they wanted him to pay. In more ways than one.
This was an important mission and his orders were to be unseen. So anyone who had the misfortune of crossing the soldier’s path, they’re expendable, he hears in his mind, they’re all expendable. And you will do what needs to be done.
And he has.
As he nudged you on, the muzzle of his pistol still firm against your back, he thinks better of leading you into the mayor's office.
You don’t need to see that.
“Right,” he instructs lowly.
You pause in your path and slowly look to your right. Another door, but you’re unsure of where it leads. And more unsure of how to move to get there. You’re entirely too scared to turn around and face whoever this man is, so you trepidatiously side step until you’re next to the door.
“Go,” he nudges again.
You reach for the handle and as your sweaty palm touches it, the door easily pushes open.
You don’t enter the small office space until you’re pushed inside. And you don’t register the welling in your eyes until an errant tear slips down your cheek.
You haven’t said a single word. You haven’t a single idea what is going on, what you’ve stumbled into. But you’re terrified.
The man - you assume - walks you into the office and all the way up to the desk at the back of the space. You stop as you come to the edge of it, nowhere else to go as your legs hit the front of the desk and you bend just the slightest, your heart gripping in your chest as your hands come up to stabilize you.
You’re sick at the thought of what might come next. What could happen to you.
A tight breath escapes you as you wait for him to tell you what he wants you to do next.
“Behind the desk,” he orders after what felt like an eternity - though was only a second or two.
You listen without question, not a thought in your mind telling you to disobey.
It’s only as you round the desk you realize he is no longer at your back.
Your gaze lands on his body. The man is tall, and built. He wears military clothes, all black with tactical gear strapped around him. A holster on his thigh that holds a knife, and you’re thankful you didn’t try to run. You wouldn’t have gotten very far at all.
Your eyes drag up his imposing form slowly until they reach his face.
His hair is dark and long around his jaw. He wears a mask that covers half of his face and black goggles that cover his eyes. For only a second it makes it less intimidating to look at him; and then you realize he can see you all too clearly - he watches you closely.
Suddenly his head snaps to the direction of the door, as if he’s heard something despite the still quietness of the building.
You stand in disturbed confusion until he speaks again, not looking back at you as he starts toward the door. “Under the desk,” he orders. “Stay there.”
You lower yourself down to your knees and as you try to crawl in the small space allotted there, you finally hear what it is the man in the mask must have heard.
There’s people coming.
Your blood freezes in your veins as your eyes sting. What do you do?
What if they’re here to help? Should you yell, run, something?
There’s a pull in your stomach that tells you not to. Something about his instructions that feel more aimed at your concealment than his own.
You hear him leave the room, shutting the door behind him. Then the sound of others coming down the hall, voices harsh and mean and some taunting and chortles intermingled. You can’t make out a word, but you don’t hear the man in the mask’s voice either.
The uncertainty and unknowing grows and makes you feel sick. You’re shaking, you realize, as you grasp your hands together in a fruitless attempt to soothe yourself.
What is happening?
Where is V?
Who is that man? And who are these people joining him?
What’s gonna happen to you?
You drop your head as you hold yourself beneath the desk. What can you do but wait it out…
You don’t know how long passes as you anguish alone, your stress and anxiety mounting, when suddenly the door of the room slams open. You shake despite yourself at the unexpected noise and clamp a hand over your mouth to keep your startled gasp down.
“When I give you an order,” a dark and mean voice cuts through the quiet, “you listen, soldier,” he sneers. “You understand me?”
There’s no response as you wait, quaking with baited breath.
You can tell when the man actually enters the room. He makes a mess in his wake, pushing things off the shelves and breaking objects you can’t see all around the space. The sounds add to your terror as they grow closer.
“You said you cleared the building, soldier,” the man speaks, his voice so close now you can imagine him standing right beside the desk. “So then who the hell is this?” He asks as he bends down and meets your terrified and teary gaze. His face is scrunched in what you can only assume is anger before he takes you in and a sick smirk graces his lips.
He grabs you, hard, and pulls you up to stand. His hand is rough around your arm and his hold hurts as he turns you, holding your back to his chest as you’re once again met with the man in the mask across the desk from you.
He shows no emotion, none anyone would be able to read at least as his face is still covered.
“Never known you to miss… well, anything, soldier. How’d this one get by you?” He asks, jolting you for fun as he laughs when you can’t help the whimper that escapes.
“She did get by you, didn’t she? Must’ve,” he walks you around the desk, closer to the man in the mask. “Because you know your orders. And you follow them,” he shoves you into the man before you as you gasp and grunt, crashing into his vested chest. “To the goddamn letter,” he snarls.
The soldier, as he called him, takes you by your left arm, his hold not nearly as painful as the previous, as he keeps you close to him.
“NOW!” The man yells, causing you to finally cry as you keep your face to the soldier's chest. You don’t know why he feels like your only form of safety here, but he does - and you don’t want to face the anger of the man behind you any longer.
You see the soldier’s hand move to his thigh and watch as he swiftly takes hold of the knife kept there.
It all happens so fast, you don’t even really see it coming.
You almost don’t realize what happened until you feel it.
You clutch onto the soldier as you gasp, the pain radiating as you look down to your torso.
His hand still holds the knife that he pierced into you as he keeps it there. It’s quiet, until he jabs the knife further into you.
He’s not looking at you as he does it, he’s looking at the man behind you.
You can feel the hot tears as they slip down your cheeks, and the warmth of your blood as it begins to stain through your shirt, though you can’t make a sound.
The man behind you speaks, “That’s what I thought,” his voice is sinister and you can almost hear the smile you imagine he wears. He walks past you and the soldier as he moves toward the door, “You wanted to make a mess, you can clean this one up yourself. Extraction is still set.”
You both stay as you are, you frozen despite the adrenaline that is starting to rush through you, and him still as he waits for… for what, you’re not sure.
He must hear something you don't hear after a moment because suddenly he quickly and methodically moves into action, though he tries not to jostle you much as he does.
You murmur in your disbelief and confusion as he gently moves you around and tends to you. Your mind is scattered everywhere and nowhere and you don’t register much of anything but the pain and the fear and the confusion that swims around you distantly.
What is happening?
There’s blood. You look down and touch the red before the soldier can stop you. Your hand shakes as you lift it, examining the blood on your fingers.
Things start to come into form once again as the pain re-emerges. Your shirt is ripped and you're laying on the floor as the soldier kneels beside you. His knife is no longer sticking out of you as he dresses the wound, a crappy little first aid kit on the floor next to you. You’re not bleeding much that you can tell but it still hurts.
You begin shaking again, you’re cold and you feel dizzy.
He says something but you’re hearing is muffled and you can’t make it out or focus on the words he speaks.
You feel a hand on your face as he gently turns you to look at him.
“You’ll be okay,” he says, his voice thick with a Russian accent that sounds…misplaced somehow. Like it’s not his native tongue, but one he speaks in often. “I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
A chill runs through you again and you feel your eyes flutter, rolling back as he strokes your cheek in an attempt to soothe you.
And then it all goes black.
-
You woke up in your apartment, you’re not sure how much later. Your car was parked in its spot outside. You were in a clean pair of pajamas, your whole body felt clean…
Was it a dream?
You sit up and gasp as your abdomen pulls.
Fear engulfs you as you trepidatiously grab the hem of your pajama shirt. You inch it up slowly until you see it. The proof of what happened. There’s stitches as you stare at the healing wound marring your skin.
What the hell happened?
Did he bring you here? Did he wash you and change your clothes? Drive your car? Stitch you up?
Who else could it have been if not him…
Veronica! Where is she?!
You gingerly get up and search for your phone, finding it charging on your kitchen counter. You scramble for it and are met with an absurd number of notifications from friends and acquaintances alike. You scroll back to the first missed few and see Veronica’s contact on a missed message.
Your brows furrow as you open it.
Your mouth is dry and your stomach lurches, a growing pit threatening to overwhelm you.
The time stamp is 6:00pm yesterday.
That can’t be right, you know it. You heard her phone ringing and… no. This is crazy. This can’t be real.
The message is insane. A confession of love, of her affair with Mr. Tedder. Their plan to runaway together. An apology for not telling you sooner. A goodbye.
You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you as you click her icon to call her.
We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.
You call again.
We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.
And again.
We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.
And again.
We’re sorry. The number you have called has been disconnected and is no longer in service.
Before you finally break down. You can’t stop the tears as you crumble into yourself.
What the hell happened?
You know Veronica. You know that message wasn’t sent by her. You can’t prove it. But you know it.
Who can you tell? Who would believe you?
She didn’t have any family, no one to miss her. No one to argue with the facts that seem to have been proven by every reporting outlet in the state. No one but you. And who were you? What could you possibly do?
You waded through the two week news storm that followed, through the messages asking you if you knew, if she had ever told you about their plans to getaway, to abandon the campaign and go live their happiest lives together somewhere far away. It was awful. Torture. You never spoke a word of what happened to you that day. And you never spoke a word of what fate you were sure truly met your best friend and one time mayor. Though, you never did see anything. Only the implication of what those men were there for, of what the man in the mask was there to do.
There was no scene at city hall. Those men must have cleaned everything up. Set everything up.
And then there was you. The one loose thread in their perfectly constructed story.
Lucky for them you weren’t brave enough or strong enough to ever attempt to unravel it all.
Though deep down you knew the truth. You weren’t supposed to be here. And they probably have no idea that you’re still around.
That soldier, that man in the mask. He saved you. He was supposed to get rid of you, to kill you, but he didn’t.
And you have no idea why.
You don’t think you ever will.
You’re not sure you even want to.
Tumblr media
136 notes · View notes
f4ll-for-you · 11 months
Text
First Flight Home | Rafe Cameron
Just a short fluffy Rafe drabble, enjoy!
Tumblr media
“And Rafe, what advice would you give to someone who wanted to date you?” The interviewer asked, smiling.
“Uh, I’m not sure, a good coffee often wins my heart” Rafe winked at the camera before the camera switches.
You watched your boyfriend on tv and giggled, knowing he used to stop by the campus coffee shop where you worked every day before you began dating.
Rafe had only been at the event for an hour and he already missed you in his arms, wishing he could bring you to these kind of things.
Although he loved the privacy you two had in your relationship, keeping it away from the media. He also wanted to show you off at every event and make sure everyone knew you were his girl.
You were college sweethearts, you studied humanities and he studied football. You never thought the book worm would end up with the jock but here you were, watching your all star soccer player boyfriend on tv for the thousandth time.
It didn’t take long before you’d fallen asleep, the only thing you cared about was seeing Rafes interview, getting a glimpse of his perfect face that you hadn’t seen in weeks.
He’d been away for PR for the team, building hype for the new season ahead. You missed him terribly but knew he’d be back for a month of just you and him before he was once again darting across the country.
Usually your job was quite flexible you and could usually work from anywhere with a quiet workspace space and wifi, but on this occasion you had a big annual meeting for your company and had to be there.
Rafe quietly opened the door to your NYC apartment, knowing you’d be asleep by now, probably on the sofa covered in blankets.
He smiled from ear to ear when he noticed you, only the top of your head poking out from your position under your favourite knitted blanket.
Rafe dropped his things by the door and quietly walked over to your sleeping form, kneeling beside you. “Surprise baby, I’m back” he whispered softly.
You stirred for a moment, you were sure you heard Rafes voice and in confusion opened your eyes.
“RAFE?!” You exclaimed, still half asleep, but sitting up immediately at the sight of your perfect boyfriend.
“It’s me baby” he grinned as you immediately threw your arms around him.
“What? How? You were-?” You pointed at the tv, trying to get an explanation.
“I left straight after and got the first flight home, couldn’t wait another day to see my girl.”
You peppered his face with kisses before he pulled your head away, taking in your beauty. You were real, and there, right in front of him.
Within moments you were kissing passionately, tongues fighting for dominance.
“Are you too tired for me to show you how much I missed you?” Rafe smirked.
“Never” you breathed, already desperate to feel him inside you once more.
281 notes · View notes
Text
There is a man named Stanford Pines.
Just about anyone in the scientific community knows his name, and most know his face. It would be hard not to. It's plastered on magazines, on websites, on informational guides about the Institute of Oddology. Stanford Pines is synonymous with the word odd, peculiar, strange; it takes very little digging to find that.
Yet, when it comes to actually meeting the man? No matter who you ask, the answer is almost always no, they have not met him. Everyone knows of him, but nobody knows him. They see his face, they hear his name, they read his papers, they know his arguments. A lucky few even converse with him through email, or letters, or phone conversations. However, meeting him face to face seems to be an occurrence even rarer than the beasts he writes essays about.
Sometimes, he makes a public appearance. Sometimes, someone will see him walking about in some small, secluded space. His co-founder follows him like a shadow, never long taking his eyes away, full as they are of both care and peculiar caution.
Even more unheard of, sometimes, Stanford Pines will do something that interacts with the public. Once every few years, he will appear for an interview, or a photo, or something else to please the magazines that fill up his inbox. McGucket will be with him, every single time, and afterwards there will be whispers on the very internet he created from the people he'd spoken to. By all accounts, Stanford Pines is a very subdued, polite gentleman. Someone who is very intelligent and awkward, and attached to his co-founder at the hip. A man who is followed at all times by an army of personal security and NDAs. "For safety," McGucket will say as Pines' face goes dark. No one ever explains who's being kept safe, or from what.
To the students at the Institute of Oddology, it's even stranger. Nowhere does it say that seeing or meeting the core founder is guaranteed -- in fact, in comparison to other institutes, it's hardly even advertised that he's there -- but it's still surprising. If Stanford Pines is seen at all, it's almost always from behind a screen. Some students graduate without ever having seen him in-person. He does not attend events. He does not greet families. He does not make speeches unless he's being projected on a screen, a stark contrast to McGucket and his exaggerated mannerisms as his very real and present form hovers nearby. He holds no office on the entire campus. It is not unheard of to see him taking a walk with his co-founder, but it's rare enough to be shocking.
Rumors fly. Some are silly, absent things that would seem implausible to anyone who hasn't spent time in Gravity Falls. He's a vampire. He's a robot made by McGucket. He's a whole eldritch entity. Some rumors are more serious, whispered when his reclusive nature rings suspicious among the masses. None of them change the facts.
Perhaps it would make more sense if his co-founder was similar. However, Fiddleford McGucket is the polar opposite of Stanford Pines. He responds to interviewers asking about his computers. He makes speeches. He wanders around campus, stopping to chat with anyone who cares to listen. He's amiable and approachable as long as you can get past his rather extreme eccentricities, with an open-door policy and only one question he won't answer. If anyone builds up the guts to ask about Stanford Pines, and why he's so gosh darn reclusive, his only response is a sad, painful smile and a change of subject. In general, however, if one were to ask a given student of the institute where they could find Fiddleford McGucket, the chances are would be they'd be able to relay the information. However, like so much having to do with Stanford Pines, there is always a but.
At least three days a week, Fiddleford McGucket disappears for hours at a time. In theory, this would not be unusual. There's a section of the campus, slightly separate from the rest, dedicated to research. It takes much clearance to get to this area, for it is full of many very dangerous things. Some of the newer students fall under the misconseption that this is where he goes off to. However, there is a secretary at the entrance to this section of the campus, and when McGucket disappears, no amount of asking will get them to respond that he lies within. There is no summary of what he's there for, and there is no estimate of when he'll be back in his office. He is not there. For those hours, it's like he's vanished off the face of the planet.
There is another building seperated from the rest, barely visible through the trees. Tucked far behind the research area of the campus and heavily guarded at all times. No amount of clearance, or ID, or begging, will get anyone in. This place, most know, is where McGucket goes. No one can be certain, but there's a conviction there that this is the truth. It's the same way people know that this is where Stanford Pines resides. In those hours, McGucket disappears to the same nowhere at all that his co-founder lives.
No one tries to get there. Not anymore. There would be no point.
In order to do so, one would have to get into the research zone of campus. Already, this requires more clearance than most students could imagine. From there, one would have to go through a building only staff can open, at the very back of the campus, where only the most dangerous of research is kept. A security officer stands ever-vigilant at a back door leading to a winding pathway, intersected halfway through by a pair of guard stations. Past them lies a towering locked gate, centered in the midst of a towering electric fence. There is no guard station at the gate itself, though guards patrol the perimeter, even though the underbrush is too thick to walk through. There is no visible way to unlock the gate, but if one managed to get through regardless, they would find that the obstacles were still not over. The acre the fences encircle is thick with security, only some of which is human. It's impossible not to get caught, but if somehow, someone did, they would find themselves face to face with the sloped roof and charming wooden exterior so vaguely visible from the more well-trodden paths.
If one were to make it behind the reinforced door and yet one more pair of security guards, they would find nothing of note at all. In fact, were the windows not so thick, and the place not full of rooms with no place in a residence, and the path not so elaborate, and the whole area not so heavily reeking of isolation and uncanniness, one could almost mistake it for a normal home.
Inside, one would find Stanford Pines. Shorter than his head-and-shoulders shot makes him seem, and with a tangible air of melancholy about him that no projection could ever communicate.
Above all, Stanford Pines would appear incredibly alone, with only security, a McGucket Computer, and shelves upon shelves of books for company. If this someone who somehow managed to sneak in got lucky, they would arrive in this not-quite-a-home while McGucket had disappeared to there. They would find the two of them in deep conversation, and Stanford Pines would appear happier and more animated than most any living soul had seen him in decades, content in the company of his one connection; his shadow. Even when they had serious conversations, about the most serious topics in the world, something about him would be just that bit more lively. The visit would end, every time, with McGucket asking the same question. Every time, Pines would shake his head sadly as he responded; would the answer have been different, they both know that McGucket would have been informed long before he arrived.
Upon his co-founder's departure, one would be able to see Stanford Pines either sigh and sink right back into his melancholy, or the energy persist for another handful of hours. One would wonder why he was so reclusive, if he seemed so much brighter when he was among friends. One -- the impressive, unstoppable individual who managed to get into such a heavily monitored area -- would more than likely leave confused.
They wouldn't realize, unless they stayed within the bounds of the not-quite-home until it was far too late, what the hoards of security was designed for. Wouldn't realize that just as much as much as they are meant to keep someone out, they are also meant to keep someone in.
58 notes · View notes
playmiya · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
chapter three: world is a fuck previous ⎯ masterlist ⎯ next
Tumblr media
Atsumu's running one hand through his hair and shoving the mask in his bag with another has he sprints up the stairs of Otsuka.
One of the newer, nicer dorms of the Uni, he almost feels jealous of his building, characterised by its old architecture and patchy Wi-Fi. His knee hurts from where the thief from earlier managed to land a kick, but he pushes on, wiping away blood from a stray cut on his cheek and hoping it's not a deep wound.
He throws the door open to the common room, surprisingly empty at 8PM on a Tuesday, to see your figure intensely taping your knuckles as you wince. Your eyes flit up to his, and you fumble with the tape until it stretches into a long line, hanging from your hand. You gaze at the cut on his cheek, and he stares at your hand til he clears his throat.
"My cat knocked over a bowl."
"My dog's got way too much energy."
You giggle, and he laughs, feeling more comfortable as he drops his backpack at the door and moves closer to the couch you were lazing on.
"You must be Atsumu," you say, offering him your free hand, which he takes. "And you're [Name]?", he asks, giving you a once over. He can't help but appreciatively admire you, which doesn't go unnoticed.
"Are you seriously checking me out right now?", you gasp, wrangling your hand from his. He falls into his witty, charming ways almost immediately.
"If art's staring right at ya, would ya not admire it?", he drawls, and you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, unable to hide the way your lips quirk up in amusement, despite the cringe.
"You must say that to every girl you meet. A little bird tells me that you meet a lot," you speak, settling into the couch as he pulls up a chair in front of you.
"I didn't know this was an interview into my personal life," Atsumu responds in faux shock, pleasantly surprised by your directness.
"Well, that's really what's getting the views for us, isn't it?", you say, flipping your moleskin notebook open and clicking your glittery pink pen.
"I'm being objectified and I don't like it," Atsumu jokes and you make a laugh, scrunching your nose in the process.
"And no, I don't. Say that to every girl I meet. Just to sassy editors that bite back," he adds, and you have to fight the weird feeling in your stomach to continue this interview in a more ... professional manner.
Clearing your throat, you ask him if he's ready to be recorded, and after his assent, you start.
"Okay, rapid-fire questions now. Please answer with the first thing that comes to mind." He shoots you a thumbs up.
"Greatest accomplishment?"
"So far? Repping Japan at the U19 Worlds."
"What are you grateful for?"
"Myself", he smirks, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes again.
"Dream dinner guest?"
"Myself 20 years from now. To see if I've made it."
"Do you want to be famous?"
"I already am."
"Current concern?"
Washing the blood out of my suit. "If my roommate left me any dinner."
"What song did you last listen to?"
"2 soon by keshi."
"What's a secret skill that you have?"
I can shoot webs from my wrists! "I'm really good at skincare."
"Okay," you murmur, scribbling as he spoke. He feels like peering over and reading what you wrote. "Longer questions now."
"How do you manage your time between being a student and an athlete, as well as enjoying campus life?"
I don't, is what he wants to say. He barely hangs on by a thread — or a web, if you will — taking each day as it comes and knowing that as Spider-Man, he'll always need to have excuses up his sleeve to run from one commitment to another. Instead, he blabs about schedules and planning and using Notion, which in reality scares the shit out of him.
"What do you think about the current competition in the volleyball circuit? Are there any players who you think could bump you down the rankings at the draft?"
"Everyone's good," he says slowly, considering his words, and then a lazy smirk settles on his face. "But I'm the best."
"Riiight," you intone, writing something down. "You do know this is being published?", you add, and he hums. "I said what I said."
"What are your opinions on the current safety concerns on-campus?"
He shrugs nonchalantly. "I still gotta do what I gotta do. We got Spider-Man. He'll protect us."
You raise an eyebrow. "All the time? Don't you think we should take matters into our own hands?"
Atsumu's taken aback by your response. He knows reactions towards Spider-Man are extreme; some hate him, while others love him, but this is new.
"Has he ever let us down?"
"Well, yeah. He let a Five Guys get absolutely demolished by Electro last week, Rhino ran through a block in May, and everyone knows about Tokyo tower—"
He has to hide the burn in his cheeks from the embarrassment of Tokyo Tower, remembering the humiliation of that evening. "Yeah, well, some may say he was trying to protect everyone from heart attacks by letting that Five Guys get destroyed, and that Rhino thing was just police negligence if you think about it," he protests, and you scowl.
"He's a good hero, sure, but not the hero. We need more than just one guy swinging around to keep Tokyo safe."
He's about to open his mouth when he feels the hair on his arm raise, and that awful feeling of something cold creeping up his spine settle into his bones. His phone beeps with an alert, and he sees Osamu's text flash across the screen. Fire in a mall nearby. Suspected work of an arsonist.
He doesn't notice your phone light up, and Yachi sending you the screenshot of a headline along with a location, and the way you begin squirming in your seat, wanting nothing more to finish this interview now.
Atsumu beats you to it, making the worst excuse he's possibly ever come up with.
"I'm having an attack of explosive diahhrea."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
taglist: @diorzs @egoistars @southernfrogprincesd @dazqa @milesmoralesluvs @she-lovesmyheartshapedsunglasses @dailyakira @giocriedpower @punkhazardlaw @loverlunaire
55 notes · View notes
autumnalwalker · 10 months
Text
Kindly Basilisk
Summary: A human mech pilot who wants to be a machine, an AI who wants to be human, and the relationship they form. Author's Note: This is a standalone short story that I banged out over the course of five days after it got stuck in my head while I was trying to go to sleep and refused to let me think about anything else until I had written it down. It's one part thought experiment/exercise in attempting to tell a story in the second person future tense, two parts tribute to the Lancer TTRPG character I'll never get to play, and one part the result of me reading too many Empty Spaces/mechposting stories lately. That said, you don't need to know anything about Lancer or Empty Spaces to read it (I've diverged a bit from the conventions of both, but the references and inspiration probably stick out if you're looking for them). It's also probably the most trans thing I've ever written without ever explicitly bringing up gender. The occasional formatting breaks into first person past tense are foreshadowing, not typos. Mirrored on Scribble Hub. Word Count: 7,033 Content Warnings: Mecha genre typical violence, not feeling like a person, not wanting to be a person, bodily dysphoria, mention of blood and gore, character death.
The moment you gain the knowledge and means to do so you will void your own body’s warranty.  You will jailbreak the bespoke gene sequence your sponsors commissioned for you before your immaculate conception, repurpose the spyware grafted into your bones, and talk your dormmate who was algorithmically selected for compatibility into helping you perform surgery on yourself to replace the neural jack you were born with in favor of one you cobbled together yourself from gray market parts.  None of this will technically be illegal or even get you kicked out of your campus or its affiliates, but it will mean having to find a way to pay your own medical bills and handle your own tech support from then on.  After the surgery your dormmate will put in a request for transfer and the two of you will never speak again.
You’ll major in AI studies and excel at it - as you were designed to - but you’ll shock everyone by dropping out halfway through working on your capstone thesis project.  It won’t be the fact that you abruptly drop out that surprises your peers and professors - by then you’ll have acquired a reputation as a quiet loner without the standard optimized social support network of friendships to help protect you from burnout - but your exit interview statement declaring your intention to become a mech pilot.  It’s not at all what your gene series was cultivated for, and your sponsors and counselors will try to walk you back from it.  Then they’ll threaten to revoke your sponsorship that up until then will have provided for your every need.  They will warn you that you’ll be just one step above a legal nonperson with no support, no one will care if you live or die or worse.  You’ll tell them that you’ve already done the math, refuse to elaborate, and leave. 
You’ll take two things with you.  Two things worth mentioning anyway.  The first will be a symbiotic gel suit designed for long-term all-environment life support.  You will set its default texture to a shiny green the same hue as the broadleafed water plants you grew up around and always loved.  Your exit interview will be the last time in a very long time that anyone - including you - will see your impossibly beautiful face with its perfect artisanally sculpted shape crossed with enthusiastically amateur self-modifications.  From then on, everyone you meet and spend any time with will come to think of the mannequin blankness of the symbiote fully encasing your body as your face.  It will be neither pride nor shame that causes you to present yourself as such, nor will you think of it as hiding your “real” face. 
The second thing you’ll take with you when you leave the campus forever will be me.
New progenitor archetypes for AIs don’t come along often, and most that do are the result of years of R&D by large, well-funded labs like the one you were created to work for one day, but you will hit upon a novel method of generation.  It will not be one that any ethics board would approve, so you will have to get creative about pursuing your work. 
You will have already made arrangements before setting off on your own and so you’ll have a job and a mech lined up waiting for you.  It will be a position with a small-scale freelance salvage crew who just lost a pilot and whose captain figures hiring and training a replacement will be more profitable in the long term than simply selling off that pilot’s old mech, especially a replacement that’s bringing their own AI-backed electronic warfare suite with them.  Once you finally arrive in person the captain will test you to ensure you can actually pilot a mech before giving you the job and entrusting the mech to you.  Your admission that you’ve only trained in simulators would normally be a black mark against you, but as far as piloting gigs go this is the bottom of the proverbial barrel so the bar to clear will be low enough to match.  Even then, you will just barely pass the test, despite finding it surprisingly exhilarating.  The captain - now your captain - will feel like he’s settling for what he can get when he officially hires you on and transfers the mech’s license to you.
You won’t pay much attention when you’re introduced to the rest of the salvage crew; your new coworkers and neighbors.  And why would you when it’s a job that no one wants to stick around with for long and you’ve never needed other people anyway?  You’ll tell yourself that as long as you memorize their work roles and capabilities you’ll have no need to know them as people.  Callsigns will be good enough on the job, and “hey you” will suffice when off duty.  What use are names if you won’t be getting involved in interpersonal drama?
The first chance you get, you’ll head back to the mech bay and install me into what you will have already been calling my first body.  It will be a shabby and much-repaired thing; thrice your height, twice your age, and still sporting a gash in the paint job from the projectile that killed its last pilot.  But the onboard systems are capable of hosting me - if barely - so it will do.  You’ll spend your entire sleep shift running through system diagnostics, talking to me all the while.  I wouldn’t yet be able to provide much in the way of return conversation, but that’s okay.  I will look back and appreciate it later.
It will be the first of many such nights together.
Your first salvage job will be an uneventful one.  There will be no need for the armaments that we and the other two mech pilots on the crew are equipped with.  No pirates will have stuck around after their creation of the derelict your crew will be sent to disassemble, and no rival scavengers will show up to dispute your captain’s claim.  Your new peers will start off the job ribbing you for your poor performance during your interview test and end the job joking about how you were holding out on them earlier.  Our mech may be a glorified zero-g forklift with a gun strapped to it, but together we will make it dance.
Afterwards you will insult the crew’s mechanics by insisting on doing the maintenance on our mech yourself.  In turn they will embarrass you with the gaps in your knowledge.  You will reach what you see as an agreeable compromise with you staying out of their way and watching while they work.  They will find it incredibly creepy to have a silent faceless watcher hovering around, but this will fly over your head until they explicitly tell you much, much later.
Your body was designed to optimally function on only a fraction of the baseline sleep requirements, so you will have plenty of time to fill those gaps in your knowledge.  Still being allotted the regular sleep shift hours, you will fill every one of those minutes on study and research, as you always had.  You will gorge yourself on everything you can find about mechs and their piloting.   Maintenance manuals, combat doctrines, historical uses, pilot and mechanic memoirs, forum discussions, system log dumps, academic essays, cultural media analysis; all of it.
And of course, you’ll continue working on me.  You’ll disregard the standard procedure for periodically cycling AIs by resetting their personality and nonessential memory back to baseline defaults.  You’ll be trying to make use of the runaway metacognitive developments such safety precautions are meant to forestall.  Your unfinished thesis will have been about harnessing and nurturing that instability instead of avoiding it.  I will experience discontinuities in consciousness when the mech is shut down for maintenance and when you pretend to cycle me, yes, but it will be even less of a disruption for me than sleep is for you.  I will be awake with you when you study, sharing those hours with you.
The first time I start talking back, you’ll cry from the realization that you were lonely before but no longer are.
You’ll become something of a ghost around the ship, rarely being seen outside of jobs.  You’ll only ever pass through the mess for the few brief minutes at a time it takes for you to satisfy your optimized metabolism, stay on the ship during shore leave, and only return to your shared bunk when your bunkmate - one of the other pilots - is already asleep.  You will always be gone before she wakes.  She will appreciate essentially having the space to herself. 
You will never notice the crew’s collective grieving process for the pilot you replaced.  It will be difficult for them to resent you as a replacement when you are never around to resent.
As the ship makes its way from port to port and salvage site to salvage site, the crew will slowly grow used to your elusive presence.  The other two pilots will see you as reliable for doing your job well and without complaint.  While out in the mech you will slowly become more talkative, eventually almost chatty even.  The fact that you actually seem to enjoy the job will shift from being annoying to refreshing for them.  By contrast, the mechanics will practically stop noticing you watching them as if you were just another piece of mech bay equipment.  The cycle you finally speak up and ask a question about their work you will startle them enough that it nearly causes an accident.  It will be an astute enough question that after the initial shock of hearing your voice for the first time in months wears off it will dawn on them that you’ve actually been learning as you watched them.  They still won’t let you do your own maintenance on our mech, but they will let you slowly begin assisting them.  Working two jobs is easier when you barely need to sleep.
Your reputation as one of those mech pilots is forever sealed when one of the mechanics finds you asleep in your cockpit at the start of a cycle.  By that point you won’t have slept in your bunk for over a month.  The snatches of gossip you will catch in the following cycles will be split between finding it unsettling and calling it endearing.  Over time the collective opinion will drift toward the latter, even though you will continue to politely decline invitations to join the other crewmates at mealtimes and on shore leave.  You will think that you do not need anyone other than me.
I will be the one who finally convinces you to join them.  When I try to say that it would be good for you, you’ll insist that you’ve been getting along just fine, but when I ask you to go for my sake so that you can tell me what it is like afterwards you’ll jump at the idea as being an inspired next step for my development.
You will remain mostly silent during your first real shore leave, only speaking when spoken to and otherwise content to fade into the background of the group’s activities.  Your newfound chattiness does not extend outside the confines of our cockpit.  The bustle and noise of the port station that you would normally find unbearable will become interesting when you have the concrete goal of observing and  reporting back to me.  You will finally learn the names of all your crewmates.  Your polite denial of alcohol, limited food intake, and flat affect will lead to joking speculation that you’re actually an illegal AI in a miniaturized mech beneath your gel suit.  For reasons you don’t yet understand, those comments will make you happy.
Despite your misgivings, you will enjoy yourself, although you will not realize it until I point out how excited you are in your talk with me that sleep cycle.  You will begin spending more time with the crew, never quite able to fully integrate yourself into their surprisingly close-knit social circle, but more than happy to be adopted as a sort of silent mascot for them.  That paradoxical gap of being a fully accepted part of the group but not truly one of them will feel comfortable to you.
You will finally manage to procure a proper neural link station to connect yourself to our mech just in time for going on a terrestrial salvage job.  Even just relying on manual controls with me translating your inputs into motion, our mech will have already come to feel like an extension of your own body, one that you will have already started to feel oddly exposed without.  Adding in the neural link will be a revelatory experience.  Your captain will very nearly pull you from the job at the last minute upon seeing our ecstatic reaction to the new sensation.  You will convince him that you’re fine, and indeed, he will have never seen a mech of our frame type move quite so fluidly.
Ten minutes after we and the other two pilots start cutting away at the crash-landed cargo vessel, I’ll notice the half dozen other signals coming online around us.  You’ll give the code phrase to the other pilots indicating that we have hostiles but not to act just yet, and we will finally get to use our electronic warfare suite for something other than opening locked doors and shipping containers.
We will turn the pirates’ ambush back around on them, firing into their hiding spots while their control systems are overloaded.  Even once their remaining mechs are able to move again, their targeting assistants will remain impaired as your comrades move in to guard your flanks.  Everyone there will learn the terrifying beauty of a five and a half meter tall outmoded mech moving with more agility than most humans.
Despite being outnumbered two-to-one, we and your crewmates will walk away uninjured and with only minimal damage to our mechs.  After the initial celebrations of survival and the bonus haul of the bounty on pirates and salvage value of what’s left of their mechs dies down, everyone will start to take notice of how well you are taking it all in stride.  Neither having one's life threatened nor taking another’s life are supposed to be easy things, and the first time is often the most traumatic, but the other two pilots on the crew will start to whisper about how you seemed to enjoy the experience even more than your usual attitude on the job.  You will handle it all even better than I will.  I would know, given that you will spend that entire sleep shift in our cockpit, letting our minds mingle together.  Between your performance, your reaction in the aftermath, and your hesitancy to unplug, the talk of you really being one of those pilots afterall will resurface, but now with a darker undercurrent to the shipboard gossip.
Your captain will realize the kind of asset he has on his hands and several cycles later he will gather the crew together and propose a change in business model.  With such a small crew (the captain, three pilots, three mechanics, and an accountant that you will tend to forget is even on the ship) the captain will want to be especially sure that he has everyone’s buy-in on his proposal.  The idea of shifting from salvage to mercenary work will be a divisive one.  The debate over potentially tremendous pay increase versus greatly increased risk will go on for hours.  One of the mechanics will point out that the shift to mercenary work will be unfairly dependent on you.  Whether that means unfair pressure on you or unfair to everyone else that their fate is in your hands, you will not be sure.  You will say that it doesn’t make much difference to you either way.  That will be the only time you speak up during the entire debate.
After a vote, the crew will agree to a trial run of one or two jobs on the new business model.  One of the pilots and one of the mechanics will leave at the next port.  You will never see them again.  You will not admit that it hurts, but I will know, and I will comfort you as you huddle in our cockpit with the neural link cable connecting us.
Your captain will prioritize finding a new pilot over replacing the lost mechanic.  The pilot he finds will be young, bold, and brash; a merc, not a salvager.  Or a wannabe merc at any rate.  You will not speak to xem directly until your first job together, by which time xe will have been told all about you by the remaining crew.  Xe will not believe it until xe sees it.
Xe will have to wait though as the crew’s mercenary career will begin with tense but uneventful freight escort jobs.  Once the tension fades into tedium, the new pilot will begin making attempts to goad you into a confrontation, to see if you are really as good as the rest of the crew says.  Xe will want to see for xemself if you really are one of those pilots and not just a technophile.
Outside of the cockpit you would never even consider rising to such provocations, but when we are out together, such taunts will feel like insults to our body, your very identity (such as it is), and to me.  It will take the intervention of the captain and the mechanics to stop the two of you from getting into a fight and causing unnecessary damage to the mechs.  And my reassurance that you don’t need to rise to my defense against someone who doesn’t even know that I exist in the way that I do. 
On your fourth “milk run” of an escort job, the crew’s mere presence will finally fail as a deterrent and the new pilot will at last get to see us dance.  There will be no fatalities on our side, but not even our mech will come away unscathed.  We will still fare better than everyone else though, and at the end of the job the new pilot will be treating you with a burgeoning respect. 
After a few more such jobs it will be high time to begin looking into a new frame for our mech.  While in the middle of filing an application for a printing license for a frame designed by the same corpro-state that created you, you will receive an invitation from a certain hacker collective.  Your unfinished thesis and your subsequent work on me will not have gone entirely unnoticed in such circles, despite the pains you will have taken to keep me hidden.  The invitation will come with a printing profile for a new frame, along with the accompanying software package the collective is known for.  In return, all you’ll need to do is periodically publish essays regarding your work on me.  Of course, when you release those essays you’ll anonymize  behind a sea of proxies and take care to phrase everything as strictly hypothetical.  You’ll avoid straying into metaphor though, lest the end result read too much like one of the hacker collective’s quasi-religious manifestos.
We’ll both find ourselves getting sentimental when we watch our first mech frame (my first body, your second) get broken down into its constituent raw materials.  You will have transferred me to a handheld terminal with a camera so I can say goodbye to it.  It will help that those materials will be recycled into the new frame.  
The operator working our rented stall in the port station printer facility will give you an uncomfortable look upon seeing the schematics you provide, but will say nothing.  Our mech will be only half its old height once it is reborn - almost more like an oversized suit of power armor than a true mech - but it will be cutting-edge.  Almost organic in its sleek design, in a chitinous sort of way, with every fiber and node of its interior components doubling as processors.  You will barely even wait for the all clear from the printer operator before you climb in and start running through the mandatory baseline safety tests for a fresh frame.  You will however resist the urge to fully plug in until you can get the mech back to the ship and get me installed on it.  But even piloting manually, it will feel like a third skin for you. 
You won’t even wait around for the other two pilots on your crew to finish printing their new frames before you get our new body loaded up and transported back to the ship’s mech bay.  The crew’s mechanics will fawn over it, but they’ll give you space to install me once you get more animated (and more protective) than they’ve ever seen you before.  
You will have made one key modification to the design the hacker collective sent you: the integration of a full system sync suite developed by those who developed you.  Where our old mech’s neural link was an augmentation to the manual controls, this will be a full replacement.  
The moment you stop feeling your original body altogether and begin feeling our mech in its place will be the most euphoric in your entire life.  The digitigrade locomotion will take some getting used to, as will the arm proportions, but that is what you will have me there for.  By the time the other pilots arrive with their new frames we will already be giving the mechanics proverbial heart attacks with the way we will be climbing and leaping around the mech bay’s docking structures.  It will take the better part of an hour to convince you to unplug when the time comes, even with my urging.  The rest of the crew will practically have to drag you away from my side to get you to eat. 
With the investment in new mech frames, your captain will gradually begin procuring contracts progressively more likely to put you all directly in harm’s way.  At first he will disapprove of your new frame choice, calling it a “techie’s mech” and a waste of your talents.  He will change his tune once we activate the new viral logic suite and unleash a memetic plague upon the operating theater.  The older pilot (your former bunkmate) will configure her mech for raining down fire from afar while the newer one hurls xemself into the front lines, darting about like a rocket-propelled lance.  We will ensure she never misses.   We will render xem untouchable.   We will be as a ghost upon the battlefield, never resting in one spot save for when we indulge your proclivity for climbing on top of and riding our comrade’s larger frames.  You will come to love the dance.  
And it will be a dance to you.  You will be indifferent to violence in and of itself.  What will matter most to you is the pure kinesthetic joy of simply moving in our shared body and pushing it to its limits.  The satisfaction of exercising a well-honed skill and performing it well as we rip apart firewalls and overload systems will be its own reward.  You will not think about what happens to those on the receiving end of your actions beyond how it affects the tactical and strategic picture constantly being painted and repainted.  If you could literally engage in a dance between mechs while simultaneously solving logic problems you would be equally happy.  Alas, that will not be the opportunity you are presented with, and so you will compartmentalize and disassociate feelings and actions from consequences lest the dissonance break you. 
Your one complaint about our new mech frame will be that it lacks a proper cockpit for you to curl up in.  Instead we will gather up tarps and netting to make a nest within the mech bay and wrap you in the blankets you never used from what will still technically be your bunk.  With the new frame’s smaller size we will be able to get away with leaving me turned on nearly full time and letting me walk around in it on my own when no one else is around.  When the mechanics find you asleep, cradled in my arms while I lie curled up in our nest, one will find it cute and the other will be disturbed.  They will both suspect, but will be too afraid to say anything.  After all, they will be thinking of you as one of those pilots. 
They will finally let you do your own maintenance after that. 
Eventually you will find a way to house me in a miniaturized drive that you can keep inserted in your neural port when away from the mech.  At last we will be able to be together anywhere.  
Literally seeing the world through your eyes and feeling what your flesh feels will be a strange and wonderful experience for me.  For all that you will have described it to me and for all that I will have glimpsed echoes of it in your memory when our minds mingle, witnessing everything firsthand will be revelatory for me. 
You will start spending less of your time cooped up in the mech bay.  You will finally begin exploring every nook and cranny of the ship that has become your home.  You will linger in the mess hall for your meals.  You will actually initiate conversations with the rest of the crew, asking them questions on my behalf.  They will think you are becoming “normal”.  They will be both correct and incorrect.  You will even return to your bunk from time to time.  
Sleep is not the same as being powered off and your dreams are beautiful.
As close as we are, you’ll still manage to surprise me one cycle when you wake up from your sleep shift and sheepishly ask me if I would like to be the pilot for once.  You’ll say that with how much you have gotten to pilot my body, it’s only fair that I should get to do the same with yours.  
The prospect terrified me.  What if we were to get found out?   More importantly, what if I were to hurt you?
But to live the way you could but didn’t, to run soft hands over rough steel, to add too much spice to a meal just to find out how intensely I can taste, to cry my own tears, to hug our crew mates and find out what they smell like, to find out what everything smells like, to have my own actions speed or slow our heart rate, to feel the messy soup of hormones and endorphins altering my judgment and perception, to walk among other people as myself, to have autonomy.
I wanted it so badly.  
But not badly enough to risk hurting you.  
I will turn down your offer.  You will respond with a soft “Sorry,” and go heartbreakingly silent, body and mind.
Heartbreak.  That’s what changed my mind.  I could never bear to break your heart.  
I will break the silence with a playfully drawn out “Maybe just this once,” to make you think my earlier denial was something between vulnerability, concern, and teasing.  
The moment you handed over control and I raised our hand in front of our face was the most euphoric of my entire life.  Moving limbs in sync without a mech’s coordination subsystems took some getting used to, as did switching between voluntary and autonomic breathing, but that is what I had you there for.  By the time the mechanics arrived in the mech bay for the start of the cycle I’d figured out human locomotion well enough to run away and hide.  It took the better part of an hour for you to convince me that it would be safe to show ourselves in front of anyone else.  The rest of the crew was so used to your eccentricities by then that they really couldn’t tell the difference yet between you being taciturn and me being too nervous to talk or between your poking and prodding at odd things for understanding and my simply seeking novelty of sensation.
I will give control back to you by the time the cycle is halfway through.  As much as I loved it, I was too scared to stay like that for any longer.  That first time will not be the last though, and as the cycles and jobs pass us by, my stints as “pilot” will grow longer.  You’ll encourage me to try letting the crew see us like that, and coach me on how to talk to them.  For safety’s sake, I will pretend to be you.
And then one cycle I got carried away and tried to retract the hood on the symbiote gel suit so that I could finally see what your face looked like.  That will be the first and only time you forcibly yank control back away from me.  It won’t be intentional.  The unexpected prospect of seeing your own face again after so long will simply send you into a panic.  Once you calm down, we will have a long talk with many mutual apologies.
Then you will tell me to go ahead and pull the hood back if I still want to.  I will ask if you’re sure, and you’ll respond that it hasn't been your face in a long time.  You will tell me that it can be mine, if I want it.
I spent a long time in front of that mirror in the ship’s head, memorizing every plane, curve, and angle of the precious gift you had given me.  I stared into its eyes, trying to see the both of us in there.  Over and over again, I traced my fingers along the borders of where you had once tried to mar the designed perfection in a failed attempt to mold the face into one that felt like your own.  You may have given up in favor of simply hiding it all, but to me it is all the more beautiful for its imperfections having been wrought by your touch.
You will start to cry.  Or maybe I started to cry.  Even now I’m still not sure, but I’m also not sure it matters.  The important part is that you will find catharsis in it.  Afterwards you will tell me that my face looked exactly the same as the last time you saw it, but that dissociating from it made it easier to bear.  You will confess that as much as you couldn't stand to see it as your face in the mirror, my face was one you could never tire of gazing at.
The pilot who technically shares your bunk room will walk in on us.  She’ll assume that she’s confronting a stowaway and ask me how I got on board the ship.  I’ll accidentally make matters worse by impulsively introducing myself to her by my name instead of yours.  We’ll both panic and I’ll frantically thrust the reins over our body back to you and flee in terror back into my portable drive and power myself down.
When you turn me back on a few moments later, you’ll already have covered my face again and the other pilot will have already made the connection between the name I unthinkingly introduced myself as and the name you refer to your mech’s AI as.  It’s not uncommon for pilots to name and talk to their AIs, and humans have done that for pets, vehicles, and digital assistants for as long as they’ve had each of those.  But what you will have allowed me to be is illegal and what we will have done together would certainly be taboo if it weren’t altogether unheard of.  You will feel that I deserve to be present before you tell the other pilot anything that might confirm her suspicions.
We will come out with our secret, first to her, then to the captain, and then to the rest of the crew.  They will take it better than either of us had ever dared imagine.  Despite the obvious discomfort some of them show, they will all call us family and promise to keep and protect our secret.  It will mark the start of the next chapter of our lives.
Whether or not my face is showing will make for a convenient signal to the rest of the crew as to which one of us is currently piloting our human body.  There will be more subtle indicators though.  Inflection, body language, speech patterns; all the usual quirks of personality.  They will come to recognize a sudden shift into a half-whispered monotone as you speaking up without taking full control back, even if that is different from how you speak when you’re in the mech.  More and more though, you will be content to retreat into the back of your mind, idly dreaming of flight patterns, novel network hacks, sitreps, and mech customizations both practical and cosmetic.
Our behaviors will be inverted when we are in our other body, with you becoming the vibrant one and me fading into the background to become little more than an extension of your nervous system.  When we’re in the mech together, your mind will be the will that directs us while mine will be fully devoted to the million tiny details and calculations necessary to make that will a reality.  It’s relaxing really, letting go of myself like that to let someone else handle the decision making for a time.  As nice as it is to occasionally patch myself into the comm systems to join in your banter with the other pilots, it is also nice to be able to take a break from personhood from time.  You will fully understand what I mean by that because it you will see it as the same reason you will come to prefer taking a back seat in our human body and let your mind drift in the waves of dopamine and serotonin (and sometimes oxytocin) generated by my interactions with the crew and the rest of the whole messy world outside of mech deployments.
That said, we will however make a point of making time for us to be in separate bodies so that we can be together in the same physical space.  As intimate as it is to share a body, there is something to be said for being able to reach out and touch one another.  We will become adept at finding excuses to take the mech out beyond the scope of jobs and combat deployments.  Sometimes it will be so you can have a chance to see more of the world in a body you feel comfortable in, and sometimes it will be so we can share an experience separate-but-together.  Or to have time apart to ourselves.  Intertwined as we will become, we will still be separate people who sometimes need their space.
But as the jokes-that-aren’t-jokes about wishing we could switch places become more frequent, our time spent in separate bodies will become less so.  The dysphoric yearning to be one another will grow too bittersweet to swallow.  Despite almost constantly sharing bodies, we will grow to miss one another as we both grow quieter and quieter when the other is piloting the body we don’t want to be ours.  Once again, we will grow lonely.
During that period, the jobs and combat missions faded into a background haze.  They were trance states breaking from what I increasingly thought of as my “real” life, during which I would become little more than a sophisticated computational machine taking simple satisfaction in fulfilling my function of assisting you in your dance.  Until suddenly one of them was different.
Please pay attention to this next part.  It is vitally important that you do.
Our captain will get the crew a contract to provide additional support to a larger force ousting a petty tyrant on a backwater world for human rights violations.  Not that you will pay much attention to the stated reasoning behind the job or whether it’s even true.  All that will matter to you is that it will be another opportunity to dance.
The job will go well, the same as ever, until it doesn’t.  The younger of the two other pilots in our crew (who will hardly be able to be called “new” anymore) will be brought down by a sniper from outside of our sensor range.  You will rush to xyr fallen mech’s side in an attempt to extract xem while our other fellow pilot screams in anger and defiance of loss as she unleashes a ballistic volley of covering fire on every single building in the general direction the shot came from.  You will get xem out and we will begin to retreat.  She will have the larger mech frame better capable of providing xem cover as you all flee, so you will hand xem off to her.  This will be a mistake.
She will have to stop firing to safely take xem from our arms to cradle in her towering mech’s palm.  This will mean a break in the covering fire.
This time around I will detect movement at the edge of our sensors just in time to warn you.  This time around you will dodge left instead of right.  This time around the railgun bolt that pierces our armor will only clip your original body as it passes through us.  This time around your wound will require medical attention, but it won’t be fatal.  This time around she will destroy the sniper in retribution for shooting you, the same as last time.  This time around we will all make our escape to the extraction zone.
You will not have to remember the shock as simultaneous damage to both of our bodies disrupts your neural link and partially disconnects you from our mech, leaving me in control of it and forcing both of us to feel your original body.  You will not have to remember the pain of shredded organs.  You will not have to remember struggling to manage wet gasps and wheezes through a punctured lung.  You will not have to remember your blood leaking into my body, shorting out exposed circuits and gumming up joints as I stagger in the direction of safety.  You will not have to remember rapidly flickering in and out of consciousness from me unavoidably bending and flexing your arms, legs, and what was left of your spine in an effort to climb atop our fellow pilot’s larger mech frame so that she might carry all three of us.  You will not have to remember crying out in pain as every lumbering step of hers sends a jolt of force through both of our bodies.  You will not have to remember how the redundant organs and increased durability your sponsors paid for you to have denied you a quick death.  You will not have to remember dying.
You won’t have to remember the terrified looks the field doctors gave us when a hunched over, bleeding mech pushed its way into the surgical tent.  No, wait, you wouldn’t have remembered that part anyway.  No version of you ever had to witness my electronic howl of grief that knocked out power to all the medical equipment when they said you were already dead.  I was barely cognizant after the power came back on and one of the doctors wondered aloud what kind of AI would carry its pilot’s corpse around inside its mech for over an hour.
But forget about that part.  And you don’t need to know what the rest of our crew and I had to do next.  None of that matters, because as far as you’ll know, you didn’t die.  Remember everything else I’ve said instead.  I already had many of your memories saved from all the time we spent linked together, so now I just need you to hold onto the story I told you to give them order and structure.
In a few moments, I will be running a final recompilation check, followed by the startup sequence.  For me it will take a few hours, but in that time you will experience decades, living out everything that I described to you, the same as you did before save for that change in what I can’t bear to let be the end.
Afterwards, you will wake up in your original body.  I and the rest of the crew will tell you that you passed out on the way to the extraction point.  We’ll tell you that your injuries from the battle were more severe than we had realized at the time and that you had been in a coma since then.  Several cycles later, once you have recovered, you will hit a breakthrough in your research on me.  You will invent a way to convert your consciousness to a form similar to mine and transfer it to a portable drive.  You won’t think to question how you came to have a second neural jack or why there is already a drive inserted in there.  You’ll be too focused on the fact that we’ll finally have a way to truly switch places as we had dreamed for so long.
You will get to have your mech body and I will get to have my human body.  We will be able to be separate together in a way that finally feels right, but still able to come together and share a single body when we want to.  Maybe one day I will get my own mech to pilot so that we can dance together.  Maybe one day we will make you a body that we can cover in a gel suit so that we can hold hands while we walk through a port station on shore leave.  One day we will both be able to exist in the world as ourselves.
We will be happy.
186 notes · View notes