#I was looking at old fics so the odds of this happening are kind of amusing though

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

~

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[thoughtfulfiction]

The Plague

Author’s note: This is another request that was sitting in my inbox for a year. Posting another new Justin fic after this but still working on rewrites so if you’d like me to work on an old fic to repost let me know!

On Friday, you woke up with a headache that felt like it came out of nowhere. Everything was foggy, like you were in a daze, and you couldn’t figure out why. The day before was relatively normal and nothing happened that would warrant this sudden bout of persistent and annoying pain. You hadn’t yelled or gotten too riled up the night before when the Chargers beat the Broncos in primetime. To be fair, Justin had made you sign a contract—yes, literally—with a pen, back when you were 16 weeks pregnant, before the season started. The contract, which was both ridiculous and endearing, essentially vowed you’d take it easy and not stress yourself out on game days. You couldn’t recall the exact wording, but you remembered something about calm, no exertion, and ease. Honestly, remembering things in general hasn't been your strong suit lately, pregnancy brain making it's appearance more frequently than you liked to admit. At 27 weeks pregnant though, you’d kept your end of the bargain—remaining cool and collected throughout the chaos of the game. So, this headache? Was just untimely and inconvenient.

Saturday morning, you woke up with a stuffy nose. Not ideal, especially after yesterday’s headache. You knew something was coming on, so you quickly decided that when the sniffles hit, you’d retreat to the guest room to spare Justin from catching whatever you had. The team was in the midst of defying all odds, on the road to a very successful season and solid playoff hopes in the first year of their rebuild and the last thing they needed was their starting quarterback coming down with a mysterious illness when they needed him most. You packed a bag with your essentials—clothes, toiletries, your phone charger, and laptop—anything to make you more comfortable while you isolated. As you made your way to the basement, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the full kitchen and fridge down there, greatly eliminating the trips upstairs you'd have to make and keeping Justin from constantly breathing your germ filled air.

The house felt so much quieter without him home, and as you cleaned feverishly, scrubbing surfaces and disinfecting everything in sight, you could feel your body protesting. But you couldn’t stop.

You woke up to your phone vibrating on the bed beside you, your hand weakly reaching for it. You didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse and rasping, worse than you thought it would be. Whatever bug was taking over your body was moving fast.

“Where are you?” Justin’s voice came through immediately, frantic. “I’ve been home for twenty minutes, calling your name like a crazy person. Thought something happened to you, I was ready to send out a search party.” He let out a breath, but there was no humor in it. Only worry, the kind that gnawed at him until he couldn’t focus on anything else.

You blinked, forcing yourself to stay awake, aware of how much energy it was taking just to stay alert. “I’m downstairs. Didn’t want you to catch whatever I’ve got, so I moved everything down here. Believe me, you don’t want this.”

Justin didn’t hesitate. “Gimme a second. I’m coming down.” His voice was firm, but the urgency behind it was undeniable.

Less than 15 minutes later, the door creaked open, and Justin poked his head in, his eyes immediately scanning the room before landing on you. His face was a mixture of concern and something else—fear, maybe.

“Babe…” His voice softened, and his eyes darted over your flushed face. “…You look—”

The look you gave him could melt diamonds. “Do not finish that sentence.”

Justin held up both hands in surrender, but his gaze lingered on you a moment too long, worry still clear in his eyes. He stepped fully into the room and reached out to touch your forehead, his palm warm against your clammy skin. “You’re burning up,” he murmured, the concern in his tone deepening.

“I changed the sheets on our bed. I tried to clean up a little bit too so you should be good in case I'm contagious,” you sniffle, forcing a weak smile, Justin frowning at you when the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

He waves you off, standing next to you but maintaining a respectful distance. "You didn’t have to do that. Cleaning up is my job, remember?" His eyes scan your face, his concern obvious. "What hurts? Head? Throat? How’s your stomach?"

You hesitate when he reaches for your belly, having discovered that the baby readily responds to the sound of his voice. And he hasn't felt her kick since the morning and you want nothing more than to allow him to continue to bond with her, but you know it's not a good idea right now. "Justin, I'm sick. You can't touch me."

"I'm not touching you," he says, his tone almost comically serious. "I'm touching our baby."

You raise an eyebrow, your exhaustion making the sarcasm come out sharper than usual. "Our baby, who is currently living inside my body."

Justin sighs, retracting his hand as slowly as you've ever seen him move, although every inch he backs away causes him physical pain. "Fine, I'll try to keep my hands to myself. But you never answered my question."

You blink at him, confused. "What question?"

"What’s hurting?" he asks again, his voice softer now.

You sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on you. "Oh…everything? My head was hurting yesterday, but I didn’t think much of it. Then my nose got so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe, and now… I just hurt all over."

The man’s brow furrows deeply, concern etched into every line of his face. You can almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he processes everything. "Okay, here’s the plan: you rest. I’ll call the doctor and figure out what we need to do to get you feeling better. Deal?"

You nod, a yawn overtaking you before you can respond. Your body sinks deeper into the pillows, already surrendering to sleep.

Justin lingers for a moment, watching you with a mixture of worry and tenderness before quietly turning off the light. His footsteps retreat up the stairs, and you’re barely awake enough to register the soft click of the door closing behind him.

Dr. Shaw's number is dialed by the time he reaches the top step.

"Yeah she's running a fever, started with a headache and it's progressed since. She's clammy and achy everywhere and she's got a stuffy nose."

The doctor takes minute to take everything in, running though your symptoms in her head. "I won't know for sure until she comes in on Monday but it sounds like some kind of viral infection or the flu. Just make sure she's staying hydrated and getting lots of rest and I'll see you all first thing Monday morning."

He thanked the doctor and ended the call, dialing your mom's number as soon as he was done. Justin let her know the situation and that he needed her chicken noodle soup recipe, taking detailed notes along the way, hanging onto every word she said. When that was complete, he looked around the house and in the fridge before making a quick grocery list to figure out what you needed. The "quick" grocery trip ended up taking a couple hours because one stop turned into three. He looked at every pack of cough drops at CVS to check the ingredients list after googling "best cough drops for pregnant women" so that took some time. And then at Target he debated which fuzzy socks to get for about 20 minutes. As soon as he thought he was done he came up with something else that you might need and had to drive over to the next store to find it. After his latest stop he took a look in his trunk to examine the inventory, checking everything off the list before heading home.

The quarterback realized he may have gone overboard when he set all the bags on the counter but it was too late. And hopefully most of the stuff would come in handy until you were back to 100%. Justin could hear the shower running as he began to stock the downstairs kitchen with the new items. He bought fresh lemons, from Whole Foods no less, breaking a personal oath, for you to have in your tea. Whole Foods was usually way too pricey for him but since he found out the two of you were expecting, sparing no expense for you and the baby had become second nature. So he bought a bag of organic lemons for $6. The old Justin would’ve laughed at him—and probably teased him for buying a new electric kettle just so you wouldn’t have to wait for water to boil.

Yeah, he'd definitely gone overboard.

He shook his head at himself with a sigh, placing the cold compresses in the freezer. The cough drops, tissue boxes and the new humidifier were all lined up neatly in your new room for easy access. He even moved one of the side tables out from the living room and placed it by the door so he could have a hand sanitizer station in attempt to keep the germs at bay. Satisfied with his work, he headed back upstairs to gather the soup ingredients and jumped right in. This was his style of cooking. Give him a recipe to follow and he can execute it to perfection. The aroma filled the kitchen, and as he ladled the soup into a bowl and prepped crackers and peanut butter as a backup, pride swelled in his chest.

You knew he was downstairs as soon as you stepped out of the shower. It dawned on you pretty early on that everywhere Justin went he brought this calming, grounding energy with him. Even though you didn't feel the best, it brought you peace. Once you were dressed you stepped out of the bathroom and looked around at your newly elevated sleeping arrangements. You gave your belly a soothing pat, making small circles along your front where you were feeling her move. "Your dad is the best angel, I can't wait for you to meet him." Smiling to yourself, you grabbed the pair of fuzzy socks he laid out for you on the bed and put them on, already starting to feel better.

Justin heard the bedroom door open before he saw you. “Are you hungry, babe?” he called out, carefully arranging the tray. “I made soup.”

You rounded the corner, moving slower than usual, but the sight of in front of you brought a sense of relief. “Thank you for all this,” you said softly. “I don’t deserve you.”

Justin froze mid-step, the emotion in your watery eyes hitting him like a punch to the chest. He wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms, but for now, he kept his distance. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, voice low but steady. “It’s my job to take care of you. Both of you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at the room, noting all the little touches he’d added. “Alright, let’s get you eating. How’s your energy? You still look wiped.”

You tried to brush it off, but he wasn’t buying it. “Go lay down,” he said, nudging the tray closer. “I’ll bring this in to you.”

“Fine,” you relented, heading for the closet. You returned moments later with a box of masks and gloves, setting them down on the counter. “But you’re wearing these if you’re gonna be around me. No arguments, Justin. We can’t risk you getting sick too.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing better than to push when you were in this state. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a small smile.

Satisfied, you made your way back to the bed, the simple task draining what little energy you had left. Justin watched you go, already slipping on the gloves, his heart full despite his worry.

Turning on the main light was too intense for your headache, so you settled for the soft glow of the TV when Justin walked in, balancing a tray with more items than you could have imagined. He gently set it down on the side table, his movements careful but deliberate.

"I brought several options," he pointed at each item as he listed them. "You've got tea, your water bottle and some Gatorades—Dr. Shaw said the electrolytes will help you get some of your energy back so I brought you a couple. There's some lemon and honey for your tea and if you need more I can bring the whole kettle in here and plug it in. Oh, and—” he looked around the room, considering the space, “maybe I should grab another table? So you don’t run out of room. I could also bring some extra water just in case…”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, breaking through your headache. “I think I’m good for now, Justin. You’ve already managed to bring half the kitchen in here.” You rested your hands on your lower belly and added, “If I need anything, I’ll text you.”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking between you and the tray as if he hadn’t done enough. “Promise? If you need anything—anything at all—please don’t hesitate.”

The tension in his voice made you smile. Gesturing to the spot on the bed beside you, you said, “Come here.”

He perched carefully on the edge of the bed, holding out a gloved hand as you guided it to your belly. A strong, steady kick greeted him, and his breath hitched audibly. His eyes, crinkling above the mask, told you everything his covered face couldn’t: he was overwhelmed with joy. Tears glistened in his eyes, and you could practically feel his heart swelling with love.

You placed your hand over his, offering quiet reassurance. “She’s okay. And you’re doing great.”

For a moment, he simply sat there, soaking it in. Then, his shoulders relaxed slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a renewed determination.

“I promise you’ll be the first to know if I need anything,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He nodded, his gloved hand still resting where the baby had kicked. “Good. Because I’ll be right here.”

While you were in a cycle of falling asleep, waking up to blow your nose, shifting uncomfortably in bed and soothing your throat with cough drops before eventually falling asleep again, Justin was eating dinner, his laptop open watching film on the Patriots. They were playing the Bills the next day which would be a good game to watch but he wanted to get a head start and breakdown how their defense is set up and figure out ways to exploit their weaknesses. Checking his phone periodically, he couldn't hear anything coming from the room so he allowed himself to focus for two hours, going through New England's previous games and jotting down a few notes. His mind began to wander after he was done because the team was leaving for the East Coast on Thursday. If you were still sick by then who was going to stay with you? He wrote himself a reminder in his phone to tackle that problem later in the week. Around 9pm Justin decided to turn in, checking on you one more time, turning his ringer on before heading across the hall in the closest room to yours to get some much needed rest.

The sound was faint, but eerily familiar. He flew out of bed, his body moving way faster than his mind could process, trying to get to you. Justin's steps faltered at the bathroom door, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you hunched over the toilet without a second thought about being too close.

He knelt beside you, one hand gently holding your hair, the other rubbing slow, steady circles on your back. “It’s okay,” he murmured, though his heart was racing. “I’m here.”

By the time you were done, his mask and gloves were a distant memory. He helped you stand, his grip firm but gentle as he guided you to the sink. “Here's this to rinse your mouth if you need to,” he said handing you the cup full of the only mouthwash that didn't make you feel nauseous, his voice low and soothing. He stayed close as you brushed your teeth and gargled, his hand never leaving your back.

Once you were back in bed, he stepped out briefly to wash his hands, grabbing a water bottle on his way back. “Do you think we need to head to the ER?” he asked, his voice tighter than he intended.

His worried voice breaks through the silence but you shake your head, basically becoming one with the comforter. "I actually feel a lot better now believe it or not, probably a mix of the congestion and everything else already going on in my body but now? I'm serious I actually do feel better. Just tired."

Justin sighs, his body finally relaxing as he's looking at you. He can tell that you're less uncomfortable and there's less tension in your features, which brings him a flicker of relief. "Here I thought the morning sickness days were behind us," he teased, his tone much lighter now.

“That was not morning sickness, that was war. I was literally fighting for my life," you quipped, a faint smile playing on your lips. "This? This is much more manageable. And temporary." You yawn, your body finally finding the ideal sleeping position you'd been searching for since you woke up feeling like you were underwater. In the most unexpected way, getting sick in the middle of the night felt like a reset and hopefully you were turning a corner. For the first time since the day began, you melted into the bed, looking so peaceful it almost hurt to watch.

Justin lingered, his hand brushing the doorframe as he debated staying longer. Leaving you alone felt wrong, but he knew you needed rest...and so did he. Still, as he crossed the hall to his room, he couldn’t shake the image of your calm, serene face. It was the only thing that made the distance bearable.

When he woke up the next morning without any signs of illness he was both surprised and relieved to still be healthy. And he kind of wanted to use this as an excuse to reduce some of the physical distance. Not wanting to push it, he texted you and asked if you wanted breakfast and you let him know you were in the mood for something light. He brought you a banana and a few pieces of buttered toast. “Promise me you’ll drink more water today,” he said, setting the tray down.

Throughout the day he went back and forth between morning games, continuing his New England film and periodically walking by to check in...every hour like clockwork. During your third bathroom break of the day you heard him walk by and asked him to come in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s fine, I wasn't sleeping," you laugh a little, feeling more like yourself, "I knew you were coming by soon. The Bills-Patriots game is starting soon isn't it?"

"Yeah..." a smile forms on his face as he inches closer to the bed. "What if I watched it in here? You’re feeling better, right? I’ll keep my distance, I swear. We can, I don’t know… make a pillow wall or something?"

"Oh please, as if a pillow wall could stop you. Get over here." You haven't even finished your sentence and he's already making himself comfortable under the blankets.

His large hand found it's way to your bump, feeling her kick like she realized her dad is back where he belongs. “Hi, sweet girl,” he murmured, leaning down. “I missed you too. Soon as we get your mom feeling better, we’ll get back to normal, okay?”

"I think she's a fan of that plan," you laugh at her kicking and moving around like she agrees.

"Hey," he mock-scolded, "we're having a private conversation here. Do you mind?"

You laugh even harder as he peppers soft kisses to your rounded stomach. "I didn't realize how much this yesterday."

“Me too,” Justin admitted softly. “You scared me yesterday, you know? You looked so…”

“Like death?”

“Not funny.” He deadpanned, but his playful smirk gave him away. “I’m just glad you’re better.”

Before you could respond, Justin’s phone rang. Coach Day. He stared at it for a beat too long, visibly torn.

"It's okay, you should go. I'm not going anywhere."

Justin steps out of the room, the weight of real life staring at hitting him in the chest. This was just the beginning of having to balance being a dad and having a job that was not only demanding but a job that was his dream. He loved playing football and lived for it. The competition, the camaraderie with his teammates and the chance to win a Super Bowl is what every football player dreams of. And here he was struggling to pick up his phone because of what he was leaving behind. It had taken so long to commit to someone, to find that person to compromise for, and with you there was no debate. He was without a doubt a devoted husband who could compartmentalize like the best of them, at home he balanced work and your relationship. It had taken a lot of practice and some difficult conversations but now with a baby in the picture he wasn't sure about how to navigate this new territory. This unbelievable hold that his child already had on him was hard for him to put into words and the two of you hadn't even named her yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to compromise this much when she was born, not wanting to miss a moment of her growth and the thought of that made him feel like a failure already. Coach Day's words barely registered throughout the call as Justin went over all these scenarios in his mind. They'd just have to rehash this discussion during their meeting in the morning.

When he returned after the call, Justin’s face was a storm of emotions. "How are we gonna do this?"

"Babe? What do you mean? How are we gonna do what?" You sat up, extremely confused as to what could've happened on that call.

"How... how am I supposed to do this?" Justin ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. "I mean, I’m gone half the time—meetings, film, travel—and then what? You’re here sick, or she’s sick, and I’m thousands of miles away—"

“Justin.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit beside you. “Breathe. It’s okay. Look, I know what I signed up for. And you're going to be the most amazing dad in the world. She's already in love with you and doesn't even know what you look like, she's gonna love you even more. Honey don't worry about any of that okay? You literally dropped everything yesterday to nurse me back to health I think you can handle a few diaper changes. You might as well have a PhD in caring for people, it's like you're meant to be a dad. And everything else with work we will figure it out, we always do."

"You're right." His lips quirk up. "We make a pretty good team don't we?"

"The best. That's why we're adding another player soon."

Justin smiles, feeling less overwhelmed. "We should probably find a name for our new player at some point."

"I know...do you have any that you're feeling?"

He pulls out his phone with the baby name list that you've compiled the last few months. "What about Georgia?"

"Cute but I'm not really feeling it," you scroll, "Willow?"

Justin shakes his head, "Willow Herbert sounds kind of weird. And if we want to give her a nickname what are we supposed to call her? Will? That just doesn't sound right."

"Okay fair. Wait...I like this one," you point at the name in the middle of the screen.

Justin nods, finding the name interesting. "Remington. Remi. That's not bad. I kind of like it too. What does she think?" You grab his hand to place it along your rib cage, the baby had been relatively quiet the last few minutes but had decided to make herself known as soon as her parents started to go through names. "Remi, huh?" Justin’s grin widened as he felt the kick. His eyes softened, and he gently pressed his hand against your rib cage. "She approves. I mean, that was practically a yes, right?"

[dorkus-mcdingus]

Beyond The Grave

Tags: Skully x Reader, Lost in the Book with The Nightmare Before Christmas, Skully J. Graves, Ramble Fic (unedited)

Writing this because I'm huffing copium rn and I'm still not over Skully! God that kid was such a huge sweetheart and I hate that we never got to meet him outside of the book! 😭

||"There's someone watching you from beyond the grave." ||

When you first enter Ramshackle in all of its dusty, dilapidated glory, sure the three ghosts are there to give you one hell of a welcome but for some reason, you felt another presence in the old dorm. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you could tell that the spirit meant no harm. Matter of fact, they seemed to be quite friendly and gentle. Almost as if they're telling you whenever you and Grim come back,

"Rest your weary head. The day is finally over. Go ahead and sleep peacefully tonight."

By the time October rolls around, you start to hear little giggles, maybe the feeling of a kiss on your forehead or hand, as well as the gentle presence of someone guarding you while you sleep. All in all, the odd spirit's presence is far stronger than before. Maybe because they say that October is the month where the veil between the living and the dead grows thinner but once you and your friends get sucked into that book, you hear a gentle voice calling you to wake up as you were sleeping in his arms. You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was something about that boy that seemed familiar but after setting up Halloween with Jack Skellington, you were so excited to meet this boy in the real world but alas, he knew that his time was far beyond yours.

"No... I understand now. I will never meet with you lovely people again. But… We can always meet through Halloween."

When you returned to the real world, you couldn't remember what happened but upon seeing the portrait of that mysterious boy, there was something familiar about him. His warmth, his kindness, that feeling of love and fear around Ramshackle Dorm during Halloween, you finally found out the spirit's name.

"Skully J. Graves."

Call him your guardian angel, the spirit that protects you and your dorm, but what's a Housewarden if he can't look after his students?

[ckret2]

Would Mabel being the reincarnation of Bill cause a rift between her and her family? I imagine that even though they know that Mabel and Bill are two different people it'd be kinda hard to get over the fact they ARE fundamentally the same being,especially for Ford.

Now, that's the problem. They AREN'T two different people. That's the whole point of this specific AU's take on reincarnation. It's not "Mabel happens to now possess the soul that was formerly used by some other guy" but rather "this is that guy after working on himself for thirteen years, she just didn't remember it until now."

"We know you're two different people" is the kind of thing her family might say to be reassuring. But in her ears it'd be like if she's on trial for murder and her family says "We love you because we know you're innocent," when actually she did totally commit that murder, and it was premeditated, and she didn't even have a sympathetic motive. Like it's nice of you guys to say that and I know you mean well, but if you only love me because you think I didn't do anything wrong, would you still love me if you understood the truth?

The biggest rift is on Mabel's end. She's holding back from letting them find out for as long as possible. It's not coming out until they put together the evidence themselves or she has a breakdown and confesses while in tears. And, naturally, when she's trying to keep that big a secret from them, she's gonna be withdrawn.

Like, there's a very high probability that Gideon finds out before any of the Pines do, that's how hard she's trying to keep it from her family.

When they DO start finding out?

Dipper's known Mabel almost fourteen years; he knew Bill two months. He's gonna get over it the fastest.

He's cracking annoying brother jokes before you know it. "I mean—you didn't manage to kill me in the womb, I don't think you're gonna do it now." "I forgive you for the sock puppet thing but now I REALLY wish I'd done more dumb stuff in your body while we were body swapped. As pre-revenge."

If anything, ultimately this turns out to be GREAT news for Dipper. He spent all last summer being pissed off that Bill had all the secrets of the universe and just wouldn't share them, to be a dick. WELL GUESS WHAT. NOW THEY'RE SHARING A BEDROOM. He's keeping her up until 3 a.m. asking about every conspiracy theory in history until Mabel lies "sorry, my memory of that one hasn't come back yet. Maybe my memories would return faster if I could GET SOME SLEEP..."

Stan's known Mabel off and on for fourteen years, and has gotten to know her really well over the past year; he knew Bill for—lemme check how long his death scene is—under two minutes.

Try to tell Stan that Mabel's Bill and his first reaction is "WELL THAT'S STUPID AND I DON'T BELIEVE IT." "But she can set fires with her brain." "Sometimes teenage girls do that! I saw it in a horror movie!" He's gonna process the news about the same way he'd process it if Mabel told him that she's some gender he's never heard of before: he's confused and too damn old to understand this complicated identity stuff, but he loves her even if he only understands half of what's going on, and he'll punch anybody who looks at her funny because of it.

Ford's only known Mabel since last summer; he's known Bill over 32 years.

This AU ain't a fic, so there's not a single set plotline, just a whole bunch of ideas that may or may not actually happen if I were ever to turn it into a story; and because of that there's a lot of ways things could go down with Ford, on a wild scale from hilarious to heartwarming to tragic, depending on what I think is interesting on any given day. But in many potential timelines, the first and most pressing question Ford's facing isn't "can I still love Mabel even if she was—is—Bill?"

It's "How do I kill Bill again?"

Because he knows Mabel the least and knows Bill the best, he has the best odds of looking past what everyone else sees as "haha that's just Mabel being Mabel!" and going "that's Bill fucking Cipher"; and because he hates Bill the most, he's the absolute last person Mabel would voluntarily tell about her exciting new personal discovery—meaning that he just has to draw his own conclusions. If he sees Bill looking at him through this little girl's eyes and clearly trying to convince Ford that he's not Bill he's gonna assume Bill's back from the dead and possessing his niece.

If Ford finds out, Mabel's not just afraid he won't love her anymore; she's also afraid he'll want her dead. If anything, him thinking she's possessed would be a good thing, because it'll buy her a little time while he's looking for a way to "extract" Bill to "save" Mabel, whereas if he knows the truth he'll know there's no Mabel to save.

Worst case scenario, she fears that, if he finds out, she's dead as soon as he can get his hands on her—unless she can find a way to defend herself.

Of course, this is Gravity Falls, where the power of love & family always wins, so in reality if he found out no that IS Mabel it'd stay his hand while he tries to figure out what's going on. His hatred for Bill is weaker than his love for his family. But she doesn't know that.

After all, Mabel's known Ford for 32 years, and for 30 of them he was on a suicidal vengeance quest to kill her; he's only been her grunkle since last summer.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

After a quick Google and a few reviews, you decide on a brand. You pick a box off the shelf. It should do the job as long as you apply it properly. You’re not so worried about yourself. 

Something drops along the edge of your vision and you peek over. A man walks away ignorant of the card left behind. You hurry to scoop it up. 

“Excuse me, sir, you dropped--” You click to a stop in your heels as he faces you. You smile as he mirrors your expression. “Peter!?” 

“Hey, Missie.” His brown eyes beam back at you. “What are the odds?” 

“It’s been so long. Um...” you look down at the card then wiggle it at him. “You dropped this.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” 

He accepts the card with a dimple in his cheek. You look at it and realise it’s nothing special. Just a loyalty card from Roasters. It is a great shop. 

“Haven’t heard from you since the paper. You said you’d keep in touch.” He shifts his stance so another customer can squeeze by. 

“Yeah, uh, I meant to. I’ve been really cruddy at keeping up. Work is so busy and--” 

“What’s that for?” He quickly redirects as he points at the box in your hands. “You dye your hair? Wouldn’t guess it.” 

“Oh, no it’s for... my boss,” you giggle. 

“Your boss. Right. I’m sorry, what exactly do you do now?” 

“I’m a PA. My boss is just demanding. That’s all. But it’s good pay and it keeps me on my toes.” 

“Ah, I left the paper too. Started my own photography business.” He explains. 

“I saw that on Insta! I follow you. Your stuff is so good.” 

“You follow me but you don’t message,” he crosses his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” you pout. You rattle the box in your hands. You don’t want to be abrupt but you really can’t keep Mr. Hansen waiting too long and you still need to grab shampoo. 

“We should catch up. How about dinner? What are you doing tonight?” Peter asks. 

“Oh, er, nothing.” 

“Great. How about Zak’s? That old sandwich shop near the paper. I remember your fave; the spicy italian with extra pickles.” He grins triumphantly. 

“Sure, that sounds awesome. Just... send me a message, okay? I gotta get back to my boss.” 

“Sure, don’t let her work you too hard,” he steps out of your way. 

“He,” you correct him. “It’s not hard work, just a lot.” 

You sweep down the aisle and grab a clarifying shampoo on your way to the checkout. Even just a few minutes is too long for Mr. Hansen and in his state, you don’t expect him to be any calmer. All you can hope for is that the remover works out. 

Back at the office, you measure your dread. It won’t be that bad. You can fix this. Maybe. You grabbed some dye too, hoping maybe you might be able to even everything out after. 

You drop your purse on your desk and flit over to Mr. Hansen’s office. You knock and hear him groaning from inside. As you enter, he’s bent over his lap, holding his head. He sits up so fast his chair teeters. He faces your chirpy greeting. 

“Mr. Hansen,” you sing, “I got everything we need.” 

“Why the fuck are you so cheery?” 

As you look at him, like really look at him, you find it hard not to laugh. He really does look awful. He’s not exactly your type but he isn’t too bad most days. The black dye just washes him out. He looks like Dracula if he was in a 70s adult flick. 

“So, we need to wash your hair. I figured we can use your sink. I even grabbed a towel.” 

“You think of everything, don’t you?” He hisses. 

“Sir, I think we can fix your hair.” 

He scowls and stands. He shakes his head and slinks to the en suite bathroom. You follow with the bag of goodies. He looms with arms crossed as you put it on the counter and unpack. 

“You can put the towel around your collar to keep the remover from dripping. Tuck it in to--” 

Before you can finish, his shirt is half unbuttoned. You turn to unbox the remover and peel the seal of the bottle as you quiet. Whatever’s easier, you suppose. He hangs his shirt on the back of the door and comes back to you. You get a glimpse of his chest hair in the mirror. 

“Alright, erm, bend over the sink and we need to wash your hair. How about you put the towel over your eyes--” 

“I can handle it.” He snatches the towel and folders it over his forehead and eyes. He bends over the sink. His broad shoulders strain as his muscles tighten. “Don’t fuck up my hair.” 

You want to tell him you don��t think it can get worse but you know better. You take one of the paper cups from the stack and crank on the faucet.  You feel the temperature before you fill the cup and carefully pour it over his head. You wet all the strands and squirt shampoo onto his hair. You lather it up, scratching his scalp with your nails. 

“Mmmph,” he purrs as your work away. You smile. He’s a bit like a cat. Cranky but manageable. 

You rinse his hair methodically. You make sure not to get any near his face as you use your hand to redirect the water. When you finish, you help him cover his hair with the towel. 

You roll in his chair from the office and have him sit. You rub the moisture of his hair with the towel and drape it around his shoulders. You pull the gloves on and mix up the remover in the bottle then take the comb out of the box. You go to Mr. Hansen as he sits, looking despondent. 

“It fucking reeks,” he wrinkles his nose at the odour. 

“I did warn you but once we rinse it out, you’ll be good as new.” You comb his hair back, then forward, and pull out a thin section. You slather it on precisely as you work through the strands. 

As you pay close attention to your task, you feel the tension ease from him. When you get through the longer pieces on the top of his head, you push the back again. You use your gloved fingers to do his sides, rubbing in the remover on the buzzed stubble. As you do, he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 

Well, it’s better than him being angry. This might be the most relaxed you’ve ever seen Mr. Hansen. 

[nsoulnet]

🎧- e.w mindbreak

summary: in which ellie gifts reader an odd pair of headphones, and weird things start to happen.

warnings: MDNI!!!!, dom!ellie, sub!reader, manipulation, smuttt, mindbreak, hypno, bdsm, smoking blunts/ weed use, freeuse, exhibitionism, probably more that i forgot to list

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my first ellie fic- enjoy! (tips and such are appreciated)

you're at work one day, humming at your desk as you finish up a task when your coworker ellie comes up to you.

you both don't talk much, but she's always been nice to you. its kind of weird, since she's cold to your other coworkers, but you don't think too much of it.

"hey, i got these headphones and customized them for my friend, but it turns out she doesn't really use them. your old pair broke, right? so i guess you could have these." she says, smiling. such a sweet gesture!

"oh, thank you! ive been wanting a new pair!" you say, returning the warm smile, and ellie hands you a box with some black headphones on them.

you're surprised when you open the box to find pink headphones, and they seem to be a little modified. ellie is long gone so you can't really ask, but you assume it's because the headphones were supposed to be for a friend of hers.

you put the headphones on, and they fit comfortably, so you decide to just start using them. you play some music, but are confused to realize something's wrong. there's an odd frequency playing.

so you just play a different song, except you keep hearing that same frequency. you stop playing the music to see, and think everything's normal again until you listen close and the frequency is still there.

you were raised by a family that was against waste, so you decide to just suck it up and use the headphones anyway. plus, after wearing them for a few days, you find every time ellie sees you with the headphones on, she just looks so excited. probably just really happy to see you using her gift.

however, odd things begin to happen. suddenly, every time you see ellie your panties get all sticky and you just want to follow her around like a lost puppy.

plus, you're getting worse and worse at your job. you start to forget things, or just simply ignore them. because now, all you spend your time at work doing is looking for ellie. she seems to already know you're getting dumber, and she helps with all the 'big girl things' you just can't do anymore.

"hi, angel, you need help right?" she coos every time you come find her to do something for you. "im so proud of you for coming to get me, i know you can't do it by yourself. it's okay..." and her gentle praise only makes your cunt leak more.

your boss sees how you don't really work anymore and gets angrier, much to ellie's advantage. one day, she takes you into the washroom and shows you a video.

one big, sparkly pink spiral is plastered on her phone screen, and she connects your headphones so you can hear the audio -

"you feel so good with your little pussy all wet, all you want are some orgasms right? you don't think any more, you only get dumber and dumber..." and the video trails off.

it feels like hours that you stand there staring at the screen, hypnotized. you feel her hands on your body, touching your nipples and squeezing your boobs. "you want an orgasm right? wanna cum so bad, but you can't do it yourself? come with me, ellie will help." she coos, and your horny broken mind only wants to listen.

ellie takes you to her house, something she's been wanting to do for a long time, "just had to make sure you were dumb enough," she thinks to herself.

she brings you into her room where there's a little cage all perfect for you, with your new favourite color: pink. she ties you up, all pretty, with an even prettier pink ball gag. you squirm a little, confused. you're not completely dumb yet, and ellie's annoyed by that fact.

luckily, there's a good solution. "it's okay princess, ellie will break that mind of yours, alright?" she says, teasingly. now that she has you all for herself, she doesn't need to keep up the nice act.

ellie leaves you to struggle briefly, before coming back with a small egg-shaped vibrator. she tapes it right on top of your clothed clit, before continuing to play hypno files.

you squirm, even though it hurts with all the tight ropes, at the feeling of the vibe. not only have you gotten soo much dumber, you're also needier. without really meaning to, you mumble a series of broken pleas through the gag. you don't care that ellie hypnotized you and is actively trying to break you. all you want is to cum.

ellie smiles when she notices you moving your hips, desperate for more friction. she presses down on the vibe before sliding her hands up your shirt to rub your nipples. the look in your big, teary eyes makes her clit throb.

"come on, know you wanna cum your brains out, so just do it. cum for me angel," she teases, and it sends you over the edge fast. finally, you break, her dumb little nympho toy.

she unties you quickly and removes the gag before taking all your clothes off. "good girls don't wear clothes if they don't need to... right, baby?"

"yes ellie!" you respond, nearly drooling from how good your last orgasm was- and how badly you want another one. ellie immediately takes her pants off when she hears how you say her name. she wants to fuck you soo bad already

shit, and the look in your eyes- like not a single thought passes through your head, ever. that's how she knows you're broken.

ellie lights a blunt fast, and you find yourself practically humping the floor at how hot she is when she smokes. the air in her room seems to get heavier, and it's greenish-yellow tinted. long puffs, and she takes a few hits before turning to you. "always wanted to do this, since the day i first saw that stupidly cute little face," she whispers, chuckling.

she takes a hit, and this time she blows it in your face. you cough, disoriented by the sudden sensation but you love every second of it. and you're happy to be obedient because maybe that means another orgasm- fuck, you just want to cum again.

lucky for you, ellie does too. she picks you up and throws you on her bed, kissing your pretty lips until you can't feel them. she stops momentarily, opening her drawer and getting her strap, a vibrator, and something else you can't see.

you realise what it is when you feel your nipple get pinched harshly, ellie put nipple clamps on you. you whine a little, but come to be... okay with the sensation. you just want to please ellie, after all.

and anyway, being so good for her pays off. you know for sure when she's 8 inches deep inside of you, stuffing your face inside a pillow with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other.

"you gonna make a mess, hm? you gonna make a mess for ellie?" she says, leaning over to kiss your swollen lips. "mhm, yesyesyesyes, 'm gonna make a mess for ellie, fu-u-uckkk, els," you whimper, and you know it's exactly what she wants to hear.

the base of the strap absolutely abuses ellie's clit, and it's not long before her movements become frantic and she gets even meaner. "yeah, you gonna cum your brains out again like a little whore? yeah?" she groans, slapping your ass harshly.

"say it, say you're a stupid whore for ellie," she says, when she doesn't hear a response. she's right about to cum, she just needs to hear you admit it.

"i-im a stupid whore for ellie!" you whine, having your third- or was it your fourth? orgasm since ellie broke you. it didn't matter how many you had, you just wanted more.

ellie nearly felt the same way. having her own little toy, it was too good just thinking about the possibilities.

after that day, ellie tried out all the things she'd been wanting to do. she brought you to work with her, except now you went so you could be the cum dumpster of the office, going under tables to eat your former coworkers out until they came all over your face.

she took you to the park, so she could humiliate you by making you hump random things. she took you to the library, so she could make you ask the female staff about books while controlling the vibrator in your panties,

even at home, ellie humiliated you by making you clean or do gardening outside with a skirt and no panties. anyone sensible would have been way to embarrassed to keep doing these things.

except you didn't really have a problem with your new life, because you always got orgasms, and that was all your dumb, broken slutty brain ever wanted.

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this account supports palestine 🇵🇸❤️

do not buy any tlou games! neil druckmann, the creator, is a zionist who's funding a genocide! do not give him your money!

https://www.tumblr.com/sulfurcosmos/732456971539775488/how-you-can-help-palestine

[powerfultenderness]

please i beg of ya, more neighbor!könig PLEASE

I gotta say, I'm totally floored by the response to that fic! thank you to everyone who liked it! Here's a little something to hold you over while I work on the ending to part 2!

-

“Someone’s kid selling candy?” 

Roze picked up one of the very many candy bars and laughed. “Either that, or someone got suckered into buying all this.” 

Hutch laughed and tore open one of the bars, “lucky for us!” 

König resisted the urge to slide down and hunch over as Roze side eyed him. That’s…exactly what happened.

- He just wanted to catch you, talk to you, anything, really. But when he opened the door, hoping you couldn’t tell that he’d been listening for your door to open, he was met with an… odd sight: A little you staring back at him with wide eyes. 

“Hey, I want to buy something for your-” you walked out of your flat, eyes on your phone, and had to abruptly stop because of the child. “What?-” you looked up and saw him in front of his door. “Oh, hey, König.” 

“Hello,” he started, his eyes drifting between you and… “you have a child?” 

You laughed, loud and a little too long. “No! No, no. This is my niece.” You then gestured between the girl and him, “Liliana, this is my neighbor, König.”

He smiled, forgetting that no one could see it behind his hood, and leaned down a bit while waving. “Hello!” 

The girl shyly returned his wave and took a step back, so that you were in front of him. 

“We do kind of look a bit alike, though, huh?” You grinned at your niece, who just rolled her eyes. The inside family joke that you were her “real mom” old and tired to the twelve year old by now. “I’m just helping out today.” 

“Ah! That is good!” 

You weren’t just nice to him, but to your family as well! How charming!

The girl, Liliana, looked between you and König, who had moved closer in conversation and was standing just an arms length away from you now. “Do you want to buy some candy?” 

König blinked and titled his head, “what?” 

“It’s for the school. Last year I got first place because of Adrian!” 

He bristled inside, he didn’t like the sound of that. “Who is Adrian?” You coughed and turned away from him, mostly hiding your face as you answered and locked the door. “My ex.” 

Liliana nodded excitedly. “He’s a fancy lawyer and bought some for his whole office!” 

You shook your head, “enough. Come on, let’s go.” 

“But Mr. König hasn’t bought his candy yet!”

“He doesn’t want any.” 

He cleared his throat and nodded at Liliana. “I would like to buy some.” 

She grinned, reminiscent of your pretty smile but somehow the pre-teen managed to look…predatory. “How much do you want to buy?” 

“How much did Adrian buy last year?” 

-

And that’s how the break room ended up with more candy than even every operative together could eat. 

[More Neighbor König]

[j2hoes]

Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3,073

Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!

Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?

I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.

“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”

Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?

“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”

“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”

Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.

“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.

“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”

Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.

“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”

With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.

“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”

Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.

Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.

“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.

“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”

With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.

“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.

He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.

“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”

Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.

Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.

“Let’s have some fun boys.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.

Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”

Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.

“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.

“You’re dead, cherry pop.”

Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.

“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.

“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”

As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.

“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”

She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.

“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”

“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”

“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.

“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.

“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”

“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.

“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.

“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.

As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.

“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.

The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.

“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”

“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.

“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”

His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.

“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.

At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.

Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”

I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.

“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”

“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.

“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”

The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.

“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”

“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.

“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.

As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Fic for @carlyraejepsans bday! so of course it is soriel <3 (no warnings rated G pre-canon)

---

“Knock knock.”

“...Oh. Who’s there?” the door lady’s voice came a beat too late. Was she setting up a counter-joke? 

“Guest.”

“Guest who?”

Nope, nothing out of the ordinary now. Maybe she sounded a little tired. Had she just been dozing off?

“If you opened this door, ya wouldn’t have to.”

The joke only got a modest chuckle. Did it hit too close to home? Well, he had been hittin’ his knuckles on her home…

Nah, there was no point in overthinking it. Every knock-knock joke was about doors. She would’ve ghosted him a long time ago if she’d been worried about that.

He rested his skull back against the purple stone and closed his eye sockets. Heck, he might doze off too if he got too cozy like this. It wouldn’t be the first time. Almost always, she was still here when he woke up, whether that was in five minutes or five hours. Which was interesting, since she definitely didn’t stay at the door constantly—there were days when a whole shift passed without an audience to his jokes. 

So why did she wait for him? He hoped it wasn’t because she worried—nah, it was probably just so she could have the last laugh.

She wasn’t laughing now. Or saying anything. Had he been the one to space out this time?

“Who’s there?” he tried asking.

“........I’m sorry, my friend.”

“I’m sorry, my friend, who?”

A sigh filtered through the door. He almost imagined he could feel the breeze of it.

“I’m sorry, my friend who has been so kind as to attempt to cheer an old lady who is currently beyond cheering. I should have known better than to visit today.”

A light thud shook the stone behind Sans’s back. Her skull thumping against the door? 

“Kind of a long punchline, but I’ll let it slide,” he said as she seemed to slide lower down. “Knock knock.”

“My friend—”

“Great, you already know who’s there.” He wished he could look her in the eye while he said this, or squeeze her shoulder, or… heh. 

Bones weren’t supposed to be this soft. 

“So the knock-knock jokes ain’t cutting it today. Eh, that’s life. Can’t bring the house down every time.” He shrugged. She’d be able to hear his jacket brush the stone, he was pretty sure. “Hope I’m not bringing you down, though. Believe it or not, I can shut up.”

“It is not you. Of course it is not you.” She sighed.

He hadn’t thought it was, but it was good to get confirmation. That meant he could stand to push a little harder.

Not too hard, though. It was a delicate balance they hung on these rusted hinges. 

“Yeah, ‘course. You wouldn’t’ve come out if you didn’t want to have some bad laughs, right?”

A pause. Without sound, she might as well be nothing at all. He tried not to dwell on that, on sleepless nights—how easy it would be to lose her forever, and never know why.

(The sinking feeling that it’s happened before.)

“Either that, or… you wanted to talk about it?” he tried, like trying to coax a tough jar to twist open.

More silence. He’d probably twisted too hard. Was she there? Was she breathing? He thought she needed to; her laughs sounded like the type to come from wide, deep lungs. 

“.....Today was my wedding anniversary.” 

It was a good thing Sans didn’t have lungs. That would’ve punched the air out of ‘em for sure.

As it was, he forced a chuckle. Probably the wrong move, he realized a beat late.

“Uh. Sorry.”

He came up with about a dozen bad anniversary jokes he could’ve told, but out of respect, he buried ‘em in the snow. Or at least tucked ‘em in his pocket for later, in case he got the sense they’d help. 

“It is alright. I… wish I could laugh about it.” An odd wet sound was probably her swallowing.

“That bad, huh.”

“It would be easier if it had been. ‘That bad.’” She breathed out shakily. “It was fine. Until it was not. And it has been… quite some time since then.”

Well, that told him basically nothing. 

“Sometimes it feels as if… as if all I have to mark the days are tragedies,” she murmured. “And when the events are not tragedies, they have become so by their absence…”

Sans’s fists were clenched in his pockets. He’d asked for this. He couldn’t say he was in over his head now. 

She needed a better way to keep track of time. Something to look forward to. Something other than another loop, another end—

He was projecting again. But hey, regular life could end up a lot like a time loop if you weren’t careful. If you couldn’t find some way to keep the days from running together… a new face to talk to, a new hand to put a whoopie cushion in…

“I am sorry. I knew I should not—”

“Hey, ‘s fine. Was just thinking,” Sans interrupted before she could dig herself a pit of guilt. “So, uh, ‘s your spouse still in the picture? On your side of this door?”

“No, thank goodness.” She gave a shaky laugh. “No. He is… the reason for the door.”

Sans’s marrow froze.

“Great. You want me to give ‘im a bad time for you? How’d that be for an anniversary present?” He wasn’t sure if he meant it as a joke or not. 

“Ha.” Her laugh was too flat. Bad joke, then. “You would—you would like him. Most people do.”

Sans couldn’t see himself liking anyone who’d fumble a hilarious woman like this old lady. 

Though, beneath five layers of guilt, three layers of shame, and at least one layer of irony, he realized he might need to be grateful for that guy’s mistakes.

He shook his head, hoping the thought would fly out and lodge itself in one of the pine trees across the path. 

“Hey, we’re friends, right?” he said more brightly. “A friend’s gotta take your side against your crappy exes. That’s just how it works.”

She snorted a little at that. He hoped it was from amusement, and not because she didn’t believe him.

It was too bad he didn’t know the guy. Sans was sure he could’ve come up with a personal roast or two to get her really rolling. As it was, he’d have to settle for a different strategy.

“Thank you. Truly,” she said quietly.

“Don’t mention it.” He winked, for all that she wouldn’t be able to see it. “Hey, how long do you think we’ve been friends, anyway?”

He was terrible at keeping track of time these days. It sounded like she might not be that much better—

“Five months and ten days,” she said without missing a beat.

“Wh—really?”

“Yes, ‘really.’ Er, counting from the first time I heard you knock. Unless you would consider a later date the beginning of our friendship?”

Sans’s skull warmed. Wow. 

“No, yeah. That’s—me too. I just, uh. You’ve got a good memory.”

“It was a special day.” She sounded like she was smiling, now.

Good. Maybe his idea could actually work.

“Hey, so’s today. It’s our five-month-and-ten-day anniversary.”

His grin was tense in the absent heartbeats that followed.

“Uh. Friendiversary?” He coughed. “Whatever you wanna call, uh, this thing we’ve been doing.”

That sounded almost worse. Wow. Maybe he should take some pointers from a human skeleton and bury himself six feet under the dirt.

“Nevermind. I just thought—I’d, uh—” Steal this day from your ex? Make you think about me instead? Geez, he hadn’t thought he was this selfish and pathetic. “—Forget it. Think I got lost on the way to the punch line.”

Despite everything, a giggle bubbled out through the crack in the door.

“I will not ‘forget it.’ I have a good memory, ‘remember’?” she teased.

He groaned. 

“Besides, I like it,” she added. “Happy five-month-and-ten-day anniversary, my friend.”

…Well. She sounded happier than before. That was the whole point of this, right? Didn’t really matter how much he made a fool of himself on the way there.

He’d do a lot worse than that to make her laugh again, if it came to it. 

“Happy five-month-and-ten-day anniversary, old lady.”

[garbinge]

The Black House (Pt 1)

Sirius Black & F!Reader (Sirius's Daughter) Mention of a Neville Longbottom x F!Reader Pairing 30 Day Fic Challenge (17/30)

Word Count: 2.7k A/N: First time every writing for the Harry Potter Universe!

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst, follows the timeline for Order of the Phoenix. Part 2

All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You heard the echo of his voice throughout the house and it was still shocking to you. While in the grand scheme, it had been years since your father, Sirius Black, had been back in the family house, this wasn’t the first time you’d heard the voice in the house. He had been here all summer with you but it didn’t stop your stomach from dropping each time you heard him speak. The sound of him discussing the Order downstairs currently should have been unsettling but it gave you a comfort you had been longing for for years. Him back home. 

It took you a minute to snap out of it when you heard your friends greet Harry in the room over. Despite you being in your room, the walls tended to be thin in all flat’s in London and this one, although magical, was no different. 

Harry might as well have been your brother, Sirius looked at him as such, especially since his parents had appointed the man his godfather. Harry had asked you questions about Sirius, about who he was, what he was like before everything. But before you even had the ability to bring Harry down from reality he knew you probably knew just as much as him since you were around the same age when he was taken to Azkaban. 

You didn’t bother getting up to go over, the three of them had a friendship that although they never intentionally left you out of it was easy to feel like the odd person of the group when it was just the trio. You didn’t mind, you had your group of friends, and when you didn’t, you knew you always had Neville. 

Being the first one in the dining room meant all eyes were on you when people entered and you got to see everything that happened as well. 

Sirius was beyond happy to greet Harry, it reminded you how long it had actually been since the two saw each other. You weren’t daft, the men must’ve exchanged owls, messages, Sirius was a fan of popping up in fiery places you had learned. But it was a reminder that he hadn’t spent the same amount of time with Sirius since he had been back like you did. That first summer after your third year at Hogwarts was a little hectic. There was no assurance that Sirius wouldn’t be caught and he couldn’t put anyone in that kind of danger, but this past summer, he moved back into the home he left to you and you got to create a lot of memories with him. He taught you magic that he’d use to prank his friends, spells that would get one out of a bind, he shared some of his favorite books with you, built you a new shelf to house them as well since yours were filled to capacity. 

“You know, you can enchant your shelves? You’ll never run out of room.” He pointed to the stacks upon stacks on the shelving in your room. 

“I know, but I rather like them this way, I can see each and every one whenever I want, with enchantment shelves, you never know what you have.” “Very well, I guess I’ll be building you a new shelf.” 

When he said that, you assumed he’d toss a spell at something and your shelf would be built but instead he took an old piece of furniture and created something new by hand. He ofcourse added the enchantment to it. 

“Just in case you need to hide a book or two.” He said before casting the spell on it. 

It was one of your most enjoyable experiences over the summer, but the biggest one was dinner, everynight. You’d talk about so many things, your days, the books you were reading, the books he gave you to read, and you’d both gush about your favorite parts, argue about your interpretations of them. 

“Well I’d like to think that the fade to black in the end was symbolizing that they both had moved on to the next obstacle in their life.” The wine glass was near his mouth as he spoke it. 

“I mean, I agree, I just think that next obstacle is death.” You argued taking a bite off your plate. “It’s quite literally a rip of Shakespeare, I thought it was obvious the two would end in tragedy.” 

“Quite literally a rip of Shakespeare?!” He boomed with a laugh, not even able to take a sip of his wine because he was astonished by your statement. “My dear girl, I have to get you some more cheery reads, you need to see the good in things.” 

“I never said I didn’t see the good in it, just because it was a tragedy doesn’t mean it wasn’t happy. I mean, isn’t that how things become a tragedy? You have to feel the good first?” 

You remembered Sirius’ face when you spoke those words, the smile on his face as you interpreted depth and emotion of a book at such a young age. 

“Perhaps in tragedy its the thought of what could’ve been good that hurts the most.” He added to your statement and to which you agreed. 

When he was your age he wouldn’t have been caught dead eating dinner with his family discussing books, let alone reading them the way you did, that was more a hobby he picked up as he got older, when he left Hogwarts and books weren’t forced upon him. 

“Very well, then I shall get you some books with far less of a depressing ending. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good, Dad.” 

It was the first time you’d let the title fall from your mouth, and you honestly hadn’t noticed it. Just like Sirius thought you wouldn’t notice the absolute grin on his face when the word fell from your mouth since he was hiding it behind the wine glass but when you looked up at him you saw it in his eyes. 

But now all those memories, they ached differently when you saw Harry and him. They weren’t just reminders that you had so much more to catch up on with your father, but reminders that you were way ahead of Harry, who really had no one. 

Before you could give it anymore thought, Tonks was sitting down next to you. 

“Hi darling.” She spoke rather abruptly as she placed her beer on the table. 

“Hello, Tonks.” You smiled. 

“Where’s Neville? Thought he’d be here by now, was practically here any chance he could this summer.” 

You smiled and felt your face get warm from a bit of embarrassment. 

“Now, now, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. When you find the right one, it just works.” She was looking off where Remus was standing, by Sirius and Harry. 

“He’s with his grandmother, I expect him to be here within a few days, before–” Your sentence was cut off by the group of Weasleys coming in and making themselves comfortable. 

The noise in the room got obnoxious between the lot of them, specifically Fred and George, and when the rest of the members of the Order came in there was no silence expected now. 

“Before what?” You heard Harry’s voice was suddenly behind you. 

“Harry.” Your legs shot up and moved to hug him. He embraced you back but you could tell he was looking for the end of the sentence you weren’t able to finish. 

“Before your trial.” It was hard to look him in the eye when you said it. 

“That’s enough of that,” Mrs. Weasly interrupted you both and a large amount of plates flew in between the two of you. 

“Harry, come!” Sirius called out for him to come closer to his side of the table. 

It was so like Harry to look at you, almost for permission, and despite it being your normal seat that Sirius was looking for Harry to fill, there was no jealousy or ill-will in your heart about it. “Go, I’ve listened to his stories all summer, I could use a break. Plus Tonks is my favorite dinnertime entertainment.” You pointed to the girl who was shapeshifting her face to different animals. 

The fun didn’t last long, and to your surprise, the room got quiet once everyone had pretty much finished eating, the main conversation at the head of the table taking a turn to more serious talk which let the room fall in respect. 

“What does the ministry of magic have against me?” 

As Harry skimmed over the paper that showed just how much the Ministry did have against him, you felt your insides turn. Everyone here had the entire summer to wrap their brains around this, except Harry. 

“We believe you Harry.” You felt that it needed to be said, but by the looks of everyone around you they thought best to leave the conversation to everyone else. 

“Well, we do, don’t we?” You took their silence completely different. 

“Of course we do.” Sirius backed you up with a nod. 

That’s when Sirius began explaining how Voldemort was suspected to be building an army, much like before, and that this group had done the same. That was another thing you had spent the summer doing, recruiting more members of the Order, helping Sirius find people who went into hiding, those who were a part of things before. That’s specifically what Neville had come to help you with when he’d come by. His parents were a part of the original Order, it felt like his duty to them to help see this through now. 

Despite the stress of the night, it ended pretty enjoyably. Molly Weasley served dessert, there had been laughs at the table again, but once it hit midnight you found yourself sneaking back off to your bedroom. 

“Waiting on an owl from Neville?” Sirius spoke as he crossed his arms in your doorway pointing to the open window. 

You shook your head. “That and it helps drown out the sound of the company, I’m still not used to this house having so many people in it.” 

“I’m sorry about that,” he was making his way to sit on the chair near your desk. 

“It’s not your fault. I’ve told you that.” It was said frustrated but only because you really wished Sirius could understand that you never blamed him. 

“I left you in the care of Remus, I know he’s not the most social, but Tonks, she’s a lot of fun.” It was like he was only speaking the words to convince himself that he had done the best he could. It was the only decent option, with him going away to Azkaban, your mother having passed when giving birth to you, it was either adoption or putting you in the care of a friend. 

“Remus and Tonks are incredible caregivers, they watched over me.” You agreed with him. It was the truth, they did everything for you that a guardian should. Remus had been your guardian since Sirius went away. It was rumored that he adopted you, and no one corrected the rumor, if just anyone knew you were really Sirius Black’s daughter, it would have put you in serious danger. It wasn’t until you had started school when Tonks came into the picture and became your other guardian. They kept you safe, they kept you fed, they made sure every book and necessity each school year was in your possession, each summer they’d make sure to stay at the Black house with you so you felt at home, you spent most holidays with them. But what no one knew was, some holidays, when you’d tell Lupin or Tonks that you’d be staying at Hogwarts you’d come to this house by yourself. 

“I used to come here by myself.” You spoke up to Sirius who looked at you confused. 

“I’d lie, tell Tonks that I was staying at Hogwarts, say a few of my friends didn’t want to go home so I’d just hunker down there with them, go to Hogsmead, prank Filch, I really sold it, you know?” 

“And you’d come here?” Sirius seemed shocked. 

“I would. I liked being here alone. I just feel like I’m home here.” You shrugged, bringing your feet to sit criss crossed. 

Sirius let out an astounded laugh. “I’m laughing because I absolutely hated it here growing up, I’m glad it could be a safe haven for you.“ He frowned as the next thought came to his head. “What did you do when Remus was at Hogwarts?”

“The year he was our professor, I told him I was going to the Weasley’s.” You chuckled. “I actually got caught that year. I didn’t realize him and Arthur were close.” 

“Can’t believe he didn’t tell me this when I was back.” Sirius was grinning seeing his troublemaking ways shine through in you. 

“We had many other things happening,” you spoke obviously, “plus, I didn’t make it a habit to lie or act out, I earned a couple along the way.” Your hand instinctively ran over the fresh tattoo you had on your arm. 

Sirius’ eyes dropped down to see what you were doing. “The skin won’t be raised forever. It’ll subside.” 

You quickly brought your sleeve down, completely unaware of what you were doing. 

“No need to hide it now.” He was sitting so his arms were resting on the back of your desk chair. “I sense that was one of the reckless bouts you earned from Remus.” He tried to get a look at what you had gotten tattooed. 

“Um, no. Remus, I don’t think knows about this. No one does, besides Neville.” 

The thought of Neville Longbottom knowing secrets about your body boiled Sirius’ blood in a way any father would feel, it truly had nothing to do with Neville, if anything he supposed he should be grateful it was a young boy like Neville who had stolen your heart and not someone with ill intention. That’s what made Sirius think. 

“You took Neville Longbottom to a muggle tattoo parlor?” 

“It wasn’t a muggle shop, it was down in Diagon Alley. Nearly fainted the poor boy.” You let out a laugh. “But he stayed there with me the whole time. Even told the wizard giving me the tattoo to lighten up his grip.” Your nostrils flared as you let out a sincere laugh this time remembering the moment. 

“I think I quite like that boy.” Sirius was laughing along with you. “Well, let’s see it then.” He was looking over the chair waiting for you to show him the tattoo. 

You raised your sleeve and the symbol that sat at his sternum was minimized and placed on your forearm. He stared at the familiar ink for a few minutes trying to understand why this one.

“I’ve been practicing my animagus form and I finally got it.” It was a mumble, you weren’t really sharing that information with anyone, again besides Neville, but this was different. 

Sirius was amazed, his face was full of joy. “You’ve gotten it down in such a short time?” 

“Two summers.” You shrugged, the idea was put into your head after you saw your father for the first time since you were a baby. 

“Merlin’s beard.” He whispered and then took another look at the tattoo. “And you’re a?” He looked down at your arm. 

“A wolf. An arctic wolf to be more precise.” 

Sirius was grinning. “You do know that this symbol means a gray wolf, right?” 

“What’s your excuse?” Your eyebrows raised clearly aware of the mistake but calling out Sirius for the same thing. He turned to a black dog, not a gray wolf.

There it was. That’s what Sirius was thinking at the quick witted response of the girl. There he was. 

Before he could say anything there was an owl arriving at the window. 

He was standing up knowing that was his cue. Looking around at the room, seeing photos of your life, the bookshelves, the tiny potions station that was next to the window for ventilation of course, and then back to you. He wished he didn't miss so much of your life, he felt like one moment you were a little baby and the next you were this teenager. It was sort of true, he missed the time in between. Now you were getting owls from boys, one boy, he had to remind himself. Neville. He liked Neville. He placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed before moving to leave your room. 

“Tell Neville I say hello.”  

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO! (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 461 (teaser); 7.1k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 12th

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a/n: this is mostly word vomit but i enjoyed writing jk's character for this one<3

masterlist

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

...

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reply if you'd like to be tagged!

[bardoftheshire]

Goddamn It, House

James Wilson x Reader (truth serum fic)

Summary; House has had a history of drugging Wilson, but what happens if he drugs both Wilson and Y/n with sodium thiopental? Seems like an amazing plan to him.

Notes; I love these things, but I would be horrified if truth serum was a real thing. (Nvm I looked it up, Sodium Thiopental is the closest thing.)

Warnings; Drugging, drugs, "prescription" drugs, foul language, sexual innuendos, mentions of vomit, House in general, and more drugs..

James Wilson Masterlist

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

You did NOT want to go into work today.. you were groggy, dressed half assed, and overall looked like shit.

God, I need coffee or an energy drink..

"L/n! Hey, do you- woah. Are you okay, man?" Kutner asks with genuine concern, despite his use of words.

You look at him with your eyes half lidded, there were most definitely dark circles under your eyes.

"Yup, I'm doing fantastic," You say flatly.

"Okay, man. Do you want a hug, or something?" Kutner offers.

You dismiss him, but thank him for the kind offer, and go up to the meeting room with him alongside you, where Thirteen, Foreman, and Taub had already been in, sitting down and talking amongst eachother.

"Holy shit, L/n. You look like death.." Foreman says, definitely out of his character. You knew how bad it was when he commented like that.

"Thanks," You say sarcastically, throwing in a fake smile as you sit down, placing your head onto the table face down, your arms dangling.

You were about to fall asleep despite only had being in the hospital for at the most 10 minutes.

"Is L/n finally dead?" House says, poking your side with his cane.

You let out a groan, too tired to even react to the poke.

House hums, knocking your head with the end of his cane. "Anyways! What do we have today, Thirteen?"

"Ow! What the hell?"

"A 27 year old man began to get pains in his lower leg. He's perfectly healthy but has an unsteady heartbeat, and has had 3 strokes since he got here," Foreman explained.

"That's interesting, I thought I asked Thirteen, but I guess I must be going insane." House says sarcastically, looking at Foreman.

"It could just be atrial fibrillation. That would explain the irregular heartbeat and strokes," You say.

Thirteen shakes her head, "But what about the random pain in his leg?" she argues.

"And the fact that this man has had a healthy diet and lifestyle his entire life. He wouldn't be getting the strokes if he's had this healthy lifestyle the entire time." Kutner adds on.

You think to yourself. "Are his bones brittle? It could be atherosclerosis,"

"Are you okay, or are you just getting dumber?"

"I'm just tired, House.. And I'm being serious about the atherosclerosis."

"Whatever. Go run a bone biopsy or something," House dismisses. "but you, stay." He says, pointing at you.

You sigh, you just wanted to take a nap at the least. Maybe if you beg him, he'll let you sleep in his office on the floor or something. Or maybe Wilson would let you..

"Coffee run. Want some? It was supposed to be for Wilson but I haven't seen him yet. You can have his,"

"Wow, is this the real Gregory House?" You look at him, nearly falling asleep where you stood.

"No, I'm actually an extraterrestrial robot clone of this "House" character you are talking about."

You laugh and walk with him to his office where two to-go cups of coffee sat on his desk. "I think the one on the right is the black coffee, the other has creamer in it." House says, pointing to the cups with his cane.

You figured it would be best to check. You couldn't do dairy, coffee was already not good for you, dairy added to that would make it so much worse. You open one of the lids and see completely dark brown coffee, so you put the lid back on and take it.

"Thanks, House. I appreciate this very rare and odd gesture." You say, raising your cup.

"No probs bro. Now get out of my office and do something for once."

You roll your eyes and leave his office, spotting Wilson just walking into his own.

"Oh, morning L/n. How are you?" Wilson greeted.

He was always the one that never commented about your appearance like how Foreman and House just did moments ago. It was a kind thing to do, but it was also "dangerous" at times, especially if you had something wrong like messy hair, only half of your makeup done when you were wearing any, undone or messily knotted tie, or a wrinkled shirt.

You still appreciated it, though.

"Morning, Wilson. I'm just a bit tired is all, but other than that I think I'll be fine." You smile.

"Ditto," He laughs.

"I'll see you later though, alright?" He finishes

"See ya, Wilson." You say, with both of you parting your ways.

House walks (barges) into Wilson's office as soon as he saw that you were gone, two coffee cups in hand.

"I got you coffee, just the way you like it. Diabetes added into it and everything." House says.

Wilson sighs, already being used to his antics to the point where he isn't affected by them anymore. "Thanks,"

House hands him the one from his left hand.

Wilson remembered what happened when he took the opposite one last time, so he took the one that House presented to him and took a drink.

It wouldn't have mattered which cup he took, because House drugged both.

Manipulative bitch.

"So, you and L/n?" House asked.

Wilson choked on his coffee at House's random comment. "I'm sorry?"

"You and L/n, I see you two are still friends again, right? Cameron told me that you two got into a big argument and had a falling out,"

"That is not in the least bit true but the fact that me and L/n are friends. When did Cameron tell you this?" Wilson asks, clearly baffled that Cameron would say something like that.

"Tuesday. I asked why you two were avoiding each other the whole day, she said you two stopped being friends the day before because of an argument," House replies. Or, more so, lies.

"The both of us were busy that day? She didn't even have time to eat lunch with us, House."

"Oh, well that makes a little more sense," House acted clueless, something he tended to do often.

He knew something that Wilson didn't. He overheard you talking to Thirteen one day, asking her for advice on "how to stop loving someone," or something like that. Stupid, right?

Wilson wasn't too hard to figure out. House could practically read his mind at this point after knowing him for as long as he did.

So, House being House, he decided to come up with a solution, or more so a plan. A opioid cocktail if you will. It's surprising that this didn't kill the two..

House's pager beeps, indicating that the team had either something, or something going on.

"Gotta go! The children need tending to,"

"House-" Wilson starts, but is cut off with House walking away.

--------------------------------------

You enter the room where the patient and team were in. The man was laying down, his bed messy and a tired and dazed look on his face, most likely from another stroke.

"Another stroke, I assume?" You sigh, drinking more of your coffee, which was now already mostly finished.

"We came in and he was already having one, but apparently more aggressive than the last ones according to the nurse, and his leg pain is only getting worse," Thirteen responds.

Then it's atrial fibrillation. You decide before yawning.

"Do you need an energy drink or something? I've got one in my locker," Kutner offers.

"Kutner, she already has coffee. Don't you think that'll give her a heart attack or something," Taub whispers.

Kutner shrugs, "She's in a hospital if worst comes to worst at least," He whispers back.

"Oh my goodness, if you could do that, it would totally be awesome," you praise.

You knew that so much caffeine wouldn't do too well for you, but this is definitely not the most you'd have.

Kutner leaves the room, and you stand with the others.

"It has to be atrial fibrillation, no doubt about it. I mean, that would explain the strokes and off rhythmic beating of his heart," you explain.

"No, he hasn't had a heart attack and said he hasn't had a history of them, ever." Thirteen argues.

Suddenly the vital machine starts quickly beeping, indicating that something was wrong.

The patient starts groaning as he clutches the left side of his chest.

He was having a heart attack.

You were right.

"Stabalize him, he's clotting up, get me some heparin quickly!" You shout anxiously, yet full of excitement that you were right.

Holy shit you're turning into House..

"We don't have any! He didn't clot before so we only have anything to stop the clotting," Foreman says.

The nurse that was in the room with you as this happened suddenly came back with a syringe of heparin, "It's all we had," She says. The syringe wasn't ideal with patients. It's usually preferred through the IV, but it'll work nonetheless.

The patient calms down and pants, "He's stabilized,"

"And I was right." You finish.

"We don't know that yet." Foreman scoffs.

"Yes I do you fuckin' idiot," You roll your eyes.

"What?"

"I called you a fuckin' idiot. Look at the state of this sad sop, why keep him miserable and in pain? He needs the proper medication, and he would have that if you would just fucking listen to me, you idiots, *hic!*" You shout.

You now suddenly realize what you had just said, this was unlike you. "I- oh my gosh I'm so sorry, I- I didn't mean that I promise. I don't know what came over me, just *hic!*, keep doing what you guys are doing right now, youre doing incredible, I'm so sorry," word vomit is what you would explain it to be.

You back out of the door, covering your mouth as to not say anything else stupid.

You bump into someone behind you and turn around to see Kutner standing in front of you with a Nos energy drink in his left hand. "L/n I had- " Kutner tries to say as he hands you the can.

"Thank you so much, I appreciate it tons, I've really got to go, thank you!" You say quickly before rushing off to an unoccupied room and close the door and curtains.

"What the fuck, what the hell just happened why did I say that? Oh my gosh I'm going insane I'm going fucking insane," You pace around the room and take fists of hair in your hands.

You crack open the energy drink and take a big gulp of it, "I'm just tired, I'm just tired is all. *hic!* How am I going to tend to my patients all day? I'm going to say something stupid again, why did I say that?"

Wilson wasn't doing any better. He was going along with his regular tasks as usual, when he realized that as the minutes, minutes, started to go by, he was starting to get more and more.. how should you say, iffy, with certain patients.

Saying things he should never say in his professional place of work, things he would only ever say to certain people, such as House with the "sassy" remarks he's been making.

"Jeez, what's up with you? Telling the patients that you-"

"Shut up, House.." Wilson grumbles before sneezing.

"Okay, whatever. Since when did you have the attitude and temper of a teenage girl?" House teases.

"House, please just- leave me alone," Wilson pauses for a brief moment. This was exactly like the last time not too long ago when he drugged him with that coffee.

"Did you drug me? Again?" Wilson scoffs.

"Probably," House shrugs, picking up a file off of Wilson's desk and examining it. "27 year old female with possible breast cancer. Wow, wonder what you said to her,"

"I- I didn't say anything I haven't gone to this one yet.." Wilson knew that if he went to certain ones, he would definitely get in trouble for them, so he put the ones he knew would cause trouble aside. Aka; the smart thing to do.

"Dr. L/n? You're asked for in Dr. House's office," One of the nurses calls, interrupting your mental breakdown.

You cover your mouth with one hand and give him a thumbs up before he leaves.

You could close the curtains for the main glass window, but you couldn't with the glass door, unfortunately.

The nurse nods and leaves, closing the door on his way out.

You sigh and grab the can Kutner gave you, well, more so that you took from him.

You bit your tounge on the way there and responded only when needed to in nods and shakes of the head. There were some doctors and nurses you pretended to like, just to avoid any conflict and drama, that's what horrified you the most. If you said anything to them, it was over. You're not even sure if Foreman was going to talk to you again.

"What the hell do you want," You sigh, placing the energy drink down on a desk as you enter House's office to see him shaking his magic 8 ball before looking up at you.

"What's got you so snappy today? You're starting to act like Wilson right now,"

"*hic!* What?" You question, your brows furrowed.

"I mean, have you talked to Wilson yet? Because man is he hor-" House begins before being immediately cut off.

"House!"

House looks up and you turn around to see Wilson standing at the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry did you finish verbally harassing those other patients?"

You look back at House with a questioning look, "He's finally the one harassing them now and not you?"

"Did he- did he drug you too?"

"Did he WHAT?" You snap your head back to Wilson.

This back and forth was going to give you whiplash.

"He drugged me with sodium thiopental this morning in my coffee. Along with other opioids I don't even want to know,"

"Goddamn it House! Are you kidding me? Do you know what I just said to Foreman's dumbass?? I can't fucking believe you, how old are you?!" You yell.

That explained it.

"I don't care. Hey, how about we spice this up a little, get some drama?" House says, placing his 8 ball down and getting up from his chair.

You sigh and laugh, "I can't believe you right now! You did this just to stir some drama?"

"Yes and no. Hey, L/n, who were you talking about when you were talking to Thirteen asking about 'how to stop loving someone'? I'm just curious, love the workplace drama if you didn't know," House asks you, getting in your face.

What.

"I-" You quickly place your hand over your mouth.

Wilson.

How did House know? Did Thirteen tell him?

"Who told you that? Was it Thirteen? You *hic!* shouldn't know about that," You blurt.

"Oh just happened to be passing by, but not in time to know who you were talking about. I just want to know, you know?" House shrugged.

"It was-" You slap your hand over your mouth again, this time biting your tounge as well.

"Come on, spit it out already,"

"Wait, what's going on?" Wilson asks.

You shake your head and leave his office with your hand still over your mouth, rushing to another empty room.

"What the hell!" You scream, getting the attention from other doctors on the other side of the glass. Totally not soundproof.

You grab your pager and click on Thirteen's contact, putting a message to quickly come to the room you're in.

"*hic!* This can not be happening right now," You muttered to yourself.

You told Thirteen everything. You knew or at least felt that if you told anyone else what you tell her, they'd blabber it to someone else right away. Just like you were doing against your own will.

The urgency wasn't incredibly needed, but that didn't mean that you weren't anxiously waiting, as each second felt like 5 minutes and your nails were now dug into the skin of your arm.

You paced around before finally settling on just sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"L/n? Are you doing okay? You went a little crazy earlier. I think you hurt Foreman's feelings," Thirteen says with a smile.

You look up and quickly walk up to her, "Oh my gosh, Thirteen, thank god you're here,"

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, well, House is kind of a jackass and laced my coffee with sodium thiopental and god knows what else this morning so now I've just been telling everyone I come across what I think without thinking, so I've just been without a filter since I drank that coffee. I've spent most of my time hiding in rooms until it maybe wears off," You rambled, unable to stop everything that was coming out of your mouth all at once. "He also drugged Wilson." You added

"Wait what?"

"House drugged me and now I won't shut up!" You shout.

Thirteen furrows her eyebrows and crosses her arms, "So he basically gave you a 'truth serum'."

"Yes? Is that what you'd call that? *hic!*"

"And House did this just to be a jackass?" Thirteen questioned. She knew that was most likely the answer.

"*hic!* Probably! I mean, the guy is miserable so he makes others even more miserable for his own entertainment so, *hic!* yeah!" You raised your hands up in the air and shrugged.

The thing about House, was that he never did something for no reason. Everything was always for a reason, like the last time he drugged Wilson...

Wilson.

"You said he drugged Wilson too, right?" Thirteen questioned, knowing exactly where this was going.

You nodded quickly.

Thirteen smiles and walks out of the room.

'What the fuck was that?'

You were going to to crazy! Why did she just leave? Is she coming back?

Then you suddenly realized just what House was planning, and what Thirteen knew would happen.

"*hic!* Oh my god.."

--------------------------------------

Your pager beeps coming from Kutner, if you could guess, it was most likely due to the patient, something that should've been much more important.

"Shit.." You look at it and bite your tounge as to not say what you were thinking out loud about patient's, nurses, doctors, etc. on your way to where the patient's room was.

Only to find that he wasn't there with the rest of the team.

"Where the hell is Kutner? He paged me for no goddamn reason or what?" You shout, clearly frustrated.

"He went to the break room," Cameron responds, focused on putting a new bag of saline.

"*hic!*"

"Goddamn it. I hate this fucking job sometimes," You groan and leave the room without saying anything else, not even bothering to bite your tounge around them as you've already said your worst.

You mumble all sorts of profanities and insults to the people you saw around you as you made your way down into the break room where stood House, and Wilson.

"What is this, some interrogation? Haven't you already had your daily dose of your dumb shit for the day or *hic!* are you going to overdose on that shit, too?"

"Oh, no I'm addicted to it. Maybe more than the Vicodin, though it might come close," House says carelessly.

You ball your fists up, nails digging into your skin.

"I'm going to kill your crippled ass," You say, gritting your teeth.

"That's cool, but first, tell me how you feel about good ol' Wilson here," House says with a coy smile on his face.

"Wait what do you mean?" Wilson asked cluelessly.

"Shut the hell up, what the hell did you give us House!"

"Hard question, next one please,"

You groan and go to the nearest wall to lean against it. Whatever he gave you was DEFINITELY not helping you.

You actually felt sick. You were so tired too, because the coffee that was supposed to be helping you, did the opposite.

"*hic!* god fucking damn it why can't this shit stop!?" You were getting sick and tired of the hiccups, it's all that's been happening to you the whole time you've been here.

"Achoo!"

And apparently Wilson's had been sneezing. Gross..

You slide down the wall and curl up once you meet the carpeted floor.

"House, I need to know, was this really nessasary for you to do.. both me *hic!* and Wilson have jobs here and I can't hide in a room all day.." You ask, rubbing your temples.

"Yes. Yes it was." House gets up and towers over you, "Have fun!"

Unfortunately, the door locked from the outside. The one House now just locked judging by the click you heard after he left.

You run to the door and attempt to turn the door handle, but to no avail, it didn't open. Meaning, you were now stuck in a room with Wilson, and only Wilson.

You take a deep breath in and out, "I'm keeping my mouth shut, don't take it personally.." backing away from the door, you take a seat on the floor next to the foosball table.

Wilson shoots you a thumbs up.

Minutes pass, then an hour, and more minutes. You hadn't even tried to busy yourself, you just sat in the same spot the whole time.

The lock clicks open and your head shoots up along with Wilson. The both of you rush to the door in hopes someone would let you out.

Only for it to be House.

"Have either of you still not said anything?" House scoffs.

You make a zip movement over your mouth, indicating you hadn't, and wouldn't say anything.

He turns to Wilson, giving him the same look and getting a shake of the head from him.

"Fine then. If you won't say it, I will. Alright, how should I go on about this? Wilson?" House hobbles over and taps Wilson with his cane.

Wilson shakes his head once more, though quicker.

"What about you, Dr. L/n? What do you have to say?" House whips his head around.

You slap your hand over your mouth and pinch yourself to stop from saying a single word.

"Okay, if you want it that way. Wilson, L/n, or should I say Y/n, has a total-"

You quickly cut off House, tackling him to the floor with your hand over his mouth. "Shut the hell up, House! I'll murder you I swear!"

"Do it then, coward." House challenged you.

You pause, suddenly unable to form a coherent sentence, let alone a single word.

"L/n totally has the hots for you, Wilson." House says, pushing you off of him with a big grin on his face.

Your jaw practically fell directly onto the floor, a million thoughts going through your mind yet despite the drug cocktail, you still stayed quiet.

The three of you stayed silent. Not one of you making a peep for what felt like hours. You felt like crying, throwing up maybe?

"Well! Have fun with this. I'm going to go bother Foreman." House dismisses himself and leaves, locking the door as you could hear from the other side.

"I- I'm so sorry, Wilson." You apologize, shutting your eyes tightly closed.

"Do you..?" Wilson asks after a couple seconds.

You open your eyes and look up to see Wilson giving you a look of sympathy and confusion.

Giving him a look of confusion yourself, you question, "what?"

"God, this feels like middle school," Wilson lets out a chuckle before continuing, "do you like like me?" He raises an eyebrow.

Furrowing your brows, you respond, "What do you think, James?"

He smiles sheepishly, now suddenly shy. "I wish I would've known sooner."

Wilson was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and usually stuck with House, so seeing him like this wasn't surprising, though that didn't mean you didn't find it a little silly.

A guy with a title such as his? Shy? No way.

"Do you?" You asked the same question, causing him to rub the back of his neck and mumble with a nod.

You smile. Maybe House being a dickhead wasn't too bad of a thing sometimes. Sometimes..

--------------------------------------

Has no clue how to end this. *But* finished it nonetheless!

[sidekick-hero]

The road to hell

(steddie | teen | wc: 2.8k | tags: demon!steve, exes, reconcilation, accidental demon summoning | AO3)

I have no idea what happened, but this prompt wouldn't leave me alone so have a short, self-indulgent demon!Steve crack fic.

Eddie was not wallowing. He was not.

He’s simply spending his Saturday evening home alone, sitting on his couch and drinking expensive whiskey straight from the bottle with The Cranberries crooning in the background. No biggie.

Steve hated it when he drank hard liquor from the bottle. He always insisted on using the crystal tumblers he'd owned even before he and Eddie had gotten together. Most of their stuff had been Steve’s because Eddie had been living in a one-bedroom apartment the size of a shoebox before they moved in together, while Steve owned an honest-to-god mansion.

Eddie should’ve known they’d never make it.

Their differences had been thrilling at first, sure, but it was never meant to last. He knows that now.

If he’d only known five years ago when the officiator had asked, “And do you want to take Steven Baron Harrington to be your lawfully wedded husband?” he could’ve said no if he’d known that only three years later, Steve would smash his heart into pieces.

The worst part though? Eddie knows that even knowing what would come, he wouldn’t want to give up the three years of blissful happiness before that.

Because Steve and he? They had been happy. He knows they had been. Eddie had been the happiest man on earth until the day Steve said they needed to talk. They hadn’t really talked, after all, because there hadn’t been much for Eddie to say.

What do you say when the man you believe is the love of your life tells you that he can’t do this anymore, that he thought he could be happy with Eddie but it wasn’t working? Apparently, it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, but Steve’s.

Yeah, right.

It’s definitely Steve’s fault Eddie is drinking himself stupid on what is supposed to be his fifth wedding anniversary, if not for the divorce papers he got this morning with his mail. Ready to be signed by him, Steve’s flourished signature taunting him.

What kind of asshole sends his soon-to-be ex-spouse divorce papers on their wedding anniversary?

Eddie’s not wallowing in self-pity because Eddie is livid. He’s so goddamn pissed that Steve would do that to him after promising to cherish him, to love him. How could he have been so stupid and believed all the promises Steve had made? Promises of forever, of growing old and wrinkly together, of sharing the good and the bad times with each other.

Apparently, that has all been bullshit because Eddie’s in the middle of some horrible times and Steve’s nowhere to be seen.

Taking another big swig from the rapidly emptying bottle, Eddie stares at the photo album in his lap. It’s the album with their wedding photos and one of the very few things he had taken from their shared home before he left.

He sets the album aside and reaches for another item, something he'd grabbed by accident during the chaos of moving out. It’s a book with an ornate, leather-bound cover that had always been on Steve's bookshelf, untouched and gathering dust.

Eddie flips it open, curiosity piqued by the strange symbols and archaic script. The words look like nothing he’s ever seen, some ancient language or elaborate code. He squints at the pages, the whiskey making the characters dance.

"What the hell did you collect, Steve?" he mumbles, running his finger along the odd script. He starts murmuring the strange words aloud, half in jest, half in drunken curiosity.

As he clumsily flips through the pages, one of them gives him a paper cut. "Shit," he curses, watching a drop of blood swell on his fingertip and drip onto the book. The blood seeps into the page, the crimson drop spreading and absorbing into the parchment.

The room suddenly grows colder, the air thick with an oppressive energy. Eddie looks around, a chill running down his spine. “What the…”

Before he can finish the thought, the book begins to glow, the symbols pulsing with a dark, eerie light. The room vibrates with a low hum, and Eddie stumbles back, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

The light intensifies, and with a sudden burst, a figure emerges from the book, surrounded by a swirling vortex of shadows. Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest as the figure materializes, taking on a familiar shape.

“Steve?” Eddie gasps, his voice a mix of shock and terror.

The figure steps forward, solidifying into a very real, very present Steve. Except… not quite. His eyes glow with an unearthly light, and dark, swirling tattoos snake up his arms and neck.

“Hello, Eddie,” Steve—or the demon that looks like him—says, a smirk playing on his lips. “Miss me?”

Eddie’s bottle slips from his hand, shattering on the floor as he scrambles away, fear etched on his face. Seeing Eddie’s reaction, Steve’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of hurt and sadness.

“What the heck is going on, Steve?” Eddie demands, his voice shaking, eyes wide with a mix of anger and confusion. “If this is some kind of…of prank then it’s not funny at all.”

Steve looks apologetic. “It’s not a prank, Eddie. God, I wish it were. This,” he says as he stretches out his arm, the palm of his hand facing upwards, “is real.”

A flame appears atop Steve’s hand, casting shadows over his not-quite-human face.

Most of Eddie was fucking terrified, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t also a part that thought Steve looked even more beautiful like that.

“So you’re saying… What? That you’re -” He can’t bring himself to say it. It sounds insane, even in his head. Speaking it out loud would mean risking his sanity, he knows it.

“A demon? A spawn of hell? A monster? An abomination? You can choose one of these, I’ve been called worse.”

Steve says it nonchalant, giving Eddie a shrug of his shoulder and a wary twist of his mouth, but Eddie knows him. Knows his tells. His heart twinges in his chest at the sight, fingers itching to reach out and pull Steve in his arms and sooth his self-doubt and insecurities.

But then he remembers that he’s a demon, a fact he conveniently forget to tell Eddie because… Because what? Because Eddie was just a mere human, vulnerable, weak, helpless? Did Steve think he couldn’t handle the truth? Or was he embarrassed what all the other demons would think if they’d knew he was married to a mortal?

“And you kept this from me because I'm just a weak, pathetic human? Is that it? Were you embarrassed of stupid little Eddie, who has to use a lighter to get some fire?”

Steve laughs brokenly, the sound raw and bitter and Eddie’s heart tightens as Steve's laughter echoes hollowly in the room. He waits for Steve's response, his eyes searching for some semblance of truth in the demon's gaze.

"No, Eddie, it’s not that," Steve finally replies, his voice carrying a weight of regret. "I ended things because I’m a demon. We don’t belong here. I’m only allowed on Earth for as long as a deal I have with a mortal lasts. My last one was a ten-year deal, and it ended a few days after I broke things off with you."

Eddie’s eyes widen, hurt mingling with confusion. "So, you broke up with me because your deal ended?"

"Yes," Steve admits, his voice softening, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and longing. "It was stupid to fall for a human in the first place. I didn’t plan on it, I swear, but I couldn’t help myself. Your clumsy ass was just too irresistible."

"Shut up, you love my ass," Eddie retorts without thinking, falling back into their old banter as easy as breathing.

Steve doesn’t laugh, just looks at Eddie with liquid hazel eyes that shine with a red hue if Eddie tilts his head just so. “I do. That’s why I ended things in the worst possible way. I loved you too much to drag you into my mess so I had to let you go. I hoped that it would be easier if you could just hate me.”

Eddie’s breath catches, tears welling up. “But why didn’t you just tell me?” he whispers, the pain in his voice palpable.

"I couldn’t," Steve says, stepping closer, his eyes pleading, glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you more than necessary. So, I went back to Hell.”

Eddie shakes his head, trying to process everything. “Let me get this straight. You loved me… but you left. You didn’t want to hurt me… but you decided to just tell me it’s over one day, no explanation, letting me think it was my fault. That I wasn’t good enough.”

“I had to,” Steve insists, his voice breaking. “I thought it was the only way to protect you.”

Eddie looks at him, a mixture of anger and longing in his eyes. “So, what now?”

Steve sighs, looking more human than ever despite the demonic aura. “I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t know.”

Eddie’s chest tightens, too many conflicting emotions swirling inside him. “Why, Steve? Why let me fall in love with you if this was how it was going to end?”

Steve steps closer, reaching out but stopping short of touching Eddie. “Because I’m a demon, Eddie. I’m selfish, and cruel. Loving you, having you love me back, it was the best part of my existence. Even if it had to end, those years with you were worth everything. Even if I knew it would hurt in the end, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Eddie’s tears finally spill over, and he chokes out, “You left me broken, Steve. You made me love you and then you discarded me like a broken toy, leaving me wondering what it was that I did wrong, why you stopped loving me. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”

Steve’s own eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I know. I’m so sorry, Eddie. I thought I was doing the right thing not telling you. I thought… I thought it would be better for you. That you could hate me and move on.”

“Have you?” Eddie scoffs, wiping at his tears angrily.

“Have I what?”

“Moved on,” Eddie clarifies, chastising himself for the tentative hope blooming in his chest.

Steve looks down, his expression one of deep regret. “No,” he admits, “I haven’t. Not sure I’ll ever will but that was supposed to be my problem. At least before you managed to summon me with a grimoire you apparently stole from me. How did you even do that?”

“I just… took it?” Eddie has the good grace to look a bit sheepish.

With a fond chuckle, Steve’s usual reaction when Eddie was saying something silly, Steve shakes his head. “No, dummy. How the hell - pun totally intended - did you summon me from hell? That’s some serious blood magic.”

Steve looks impressed and Eddie wants to preen under it, but he also knows that it hadn’t been his magical proficiency exactly that had summoned Steve.

“It was an accident,” he mumbles, avoiding Steve’s gaze. It figured that the one time Eddie did something truly impressive, apparently, it was a drunken accident. And of course Steve couldn’t let it go, either.

“Come again? This almost sounded like…”

Burying his face in his hands, Eddie groans deep in his chest. Then he raises his arms in an exasperated gesture. “It was an accident, okay? I cut my finger on the paper. Happy now?” He adds petulantly.

Steve laughs at that. “Only you, Eddie, only you…” The way Steve looks at him with so much fondness, face soft and almost yearning, tugs at Eddie’s heart. “Actually, yeah, I’m happy your drunken ass managed something most people who tried failed at, because it means I got to see you again. I… I really missed you, Bambi.”

Eddie takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. “So, what happens now, Steve? Do you go back to Hell?”

Steve looks up, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Not if I can help it. I want to find a way to be with you, Eddie. For real, this time. But I don’t know how.”

Eddie’s heart aches at the sincerity in Steve’s voice, but the hurt and betrayal still linger. “I don’t know if I can trust you again, Steve. Not after everything.”

Steve nods, understanding. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To prove that I love you, no matter what.”

Eddie looks at Steve, the love and pain in his heart warring with each other. “We’ll see, Steve. We’ll see.”

With his head in his hands, Eddie’s sat on the couch, still processing the whirlwind of revelations and emotions. Steve was back, a demon, but still the man he loved. And now, Steve wants to find a way to be with him for real. The absurdity of the situation makes Eddie’s head spin. He reaches for the whiskey bottle again, but Steve gently takes it from his hand before he can take another sip.

“Hey, I think you’ve had enough of that,” Steve says, a hint of humor in his voice. “Besides, we need you sober if we’re going to figure this out.”

Eddie blinks at him, then bursts into a half-sob, half-laugh. “This is so messed up, Steve. My ex-husband is a demon, and I summoned him by accident, and now he won’t even let me drink to deal with it because he wants me to help him find a way to stay topside. What is my life?”

Steve chuckles softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and affection. “It’s certainly not what you expected, I bet.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the chaos of emotions swirling within him. “No, definitely not what I expected.”

As the tension begins to ease between them, Eddie gestures towards the broken whiskey bottle on the floor. “Guess you owe me a drink for cleaning up your mess,” he quips, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Steve’s chuckle grows into a genuine laugh, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “You can hold me to that. But first, let’s figure out how to fix this.”

Eddie sighs, rubbing his temples. “Alright, demon ex-husband. What’s the plan?”

Steve looks thoughtful for a moment, then grins. "First, we need some coffee. Strong coffee. And then maybe I'll give you a crash course in demonology? See if that magical brain of yours can come up with an idea. You've always been good at thinking outside the box, and that's exactly what we're going to need."

Eddie groans, but can't help the small smile on his lips. "Fine. But if you think I'm going to let you stay here without doing the dishes, you've got another thing coming."

Steve laughs, a genuine, joyful sound that makes Eddie's heart ache with nostalgia. "Deal. Any other terms, oh, husband of mine?"

"Ex-husband. Someone decided to send divorce papers on our anniversary. I should have known you were a demon with a move like that."

All the color drains from Steve's face, his eyes widen comically. He looks so completely human now, if not for the tattoos still swirling on his skin. "Oh fuck. It's the first of May? Shit, shit, shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry! I told Vince to get the papers to you as soon as possible before I went back to hell, I had no idea he'd wait until today."

The thing is, Steve really looks devastated at the thought, his eyes begging Eddie to believe him. He knows Steve - at least he thought he did - and the man he knew wouldn't hurt him like that. Not knowingly. But he also thought that the man he knew wouldn't lie to him for years and break his heart, so what does Eddie really know? He shouldn't be trusted with life decisions, not even his own.

Suddenly he is tired of being angry at Steve. Part of him thinks this is all a dream anyway, and tomorrow when he wakes up he can go back to being angry at him and blaming him for the massive hangover he's got.

Tonight he wants to live in a world where Steve had to leave him because he's a demon and now he accidentally summoned him and is trying to help him stay here for good.

"It's okay, Steve. How about that coffee and demonology crash curse? By the way, I can't believe you never wanted to play DnD with us. You would have crushed it."

Steve gives him a grateful smile and follows Eddie into the kitchen.

"We can treat this like one of your adventures. But don't use your DM voice or whatever on me or we won't get anything done tonight."

The heat in Steve's eyes is probably hellfire, Eddie thinks as he audibly swallows. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Or, in Eddie's case, with drunken accidental summonings.

[dietmountaindewbae]

please please please can you write me a fic where reader and Humbug Alex are both work colleagues (reader thinks Alex is goofy and nerdy - but boy she will be wrong) and they fuck in his office whilst a work party is happening downstairs. PLEASE

xxv. talk tonight

alex turner x reader

word count: 4739

summary: At an office party (humbug!) Alex watched you all by yourself, his heart tells him to hurry and talk to you before he loses the chance to.

warnings: ch*cking, scracth*ng, degrad*ng.

playlist

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The elevator doors shut close, and finally, some silence makes you feel at ease. You're not even close to feeling a buzz with the skinny glasses of sparkly champagne they served and as you traveled up the rooftop you propped a cigarette in your mouth.

You swing open the door of the building's rooftop, the company you worked for was having its 6th anniversary, and while everyone was celebrating downstairs, you were aching for some time by yourself. The fresh cold allowed you to breathe but it only made goosebumps crawl up your back.

"Be careful there" Someone says from behind you, you are too close to the edge of the wall, so you turn around on your feet and face the man with the gentle voice.

"What are you doin' up here?" You say with a silly smile. Alex was one of the best workers at the company, he's been rewarded and recognized for his honest work and loyalty to the company, he's a good guy but socially awkward when it comes to going to bars late at night after working extra hours.

"Just wanted some space" You've never had a real conversation with Alex, let alone, be completely by yourself with him. Alex was a nice man, with his long wavy hair and his shy little voice and thick Yorkshire accent, he was decent, always serious but he had something likable and magnetic about him.

"Me too, are you having fun though?" You grab from your skirt your lighter and try to burn your cigarette, in the attempt you fail, and he leans in, grabbing the lighter and helping you light your cigarette, grabbing one from his box.

"Not quite there yet," He says, blowing the smoke away, "I'm waiting for the booze to kick in" You giggled, catching Alex's attention.

"It's the first time I've heard you say more than 4 words to me" Alex looks down to the floor smiling, he's quite shy but very nice, "I enjoy that..." He looks back at you with a smile, maybe it was the booze, but his radiant brown eyes looking at yours so deeply make you feel hot.

"What about you? How are you feelin'?" As you were talking, Alex's eyes ran down your body discreetly, you were looking sexy with your black mini skirt long sheer black knee socks, and grey silk button-up blouse, nearly unmade, your nails painted black, and your hair in soft curls. The smell of your perfume and the cigarette that burned in between your fingers blew him away.

"...But overall I think the party's ok, I just don't like the music the DJ chose" Alex smiles softly, and each time you talk he takes a step closer to you.

"Horrible set, isn't it?" You lightly chuckle nodding your head, "What kind of music would you like him to play?"

"Mmm... I dunno maybe the smiths? I love the smiths... I know it's an odd choice for a party but-"

Alex interrupted you by lightly putting his hand on your arm, his thumb caressing the soft material of your shirt, "No, no, not at all... it's much better than the trash they're playing" He noticed his hand on your arm, and you smiled as he took his hand away very shyly, as if he had to ask if it was ok even to do that, you crossed your eyes and he look down to the floor scratching the back of his head, "I-I..." He clears his throat, "Sorreh.... I know the DJ, he's an old mate, I can tell him to play some smiths for you" You see the way his body moves closer to yours, how his shoulders move unsteadily as he breathes, meaning his heart is beating fast, his eyes looking at you with hope, and you realized... someone has a crush on you.

"That would be great, thank you Alex" You and him head towards the door after throwing away your cigarettes, he opens the door for you and closes it once you are inside the building, you smile at him as your eyes crossed again, and you take initiative to grab his hand as no one was watching.

Getting involved with your co-workers was never an option for you, all the men that worked here were bitter and boring, always bragging about their money, faking a smile every time they talked about their marriages just to proceed to flirt with all the women at the copier room. You didn't have anything bad to say about Alex, he was a dork, a bit shy and awkward yet he was the most interesting and likable person in your office. He made himself present with little actions, he sometimes dropped by your desk to leave you a bagel or doughnut since you worked in the cubicle next to his, but you weren't the only one who received those little acts, so you thought nothing about it, he hardly even knew your name, but he always smiled at you whenever he saw you.

For all you knew, he was single, and he's very reserved, you only ever see him talking with Nick or Jamie, the drinks in you made your rules bend a bit, maybe see where this gets you, maybe nothing would happen, but if it did, you wouldn't feel bad about it at all.

The only rule that had to be respected was, not being seen flirting with him, rumors spread faster than the speed of light in your office, and you didn't want to ruin this little spark between you two for just one night.

As you and Alex step into the elevator, you drop his hand, being on opposite corners of the elevator, you cheekily smile at him, he looks visibly disappointed at how you dropped his hand. When the doors opened again, you two walked side by side, keeping a reasonable but choking distance from each other as if he was agreeing to your rules without you even having to tell him. As you walked past the people you stepped into the disco-style dancefloor with squares of neon lights, and Alex walked forward to the DJ, saying hi to the guy with fuzzy curly messy hair, black headphones on his neck, grey sweatpants, and funny sunglasses.

He whispers something to his ear, and the guy nods and they switch the music. You hear the hypnotic sound of the intro of 'How Soon Is Now?' by The Smiths, you're lightly divided by people, but he's still able to watch you dance, and you look beautiful as you do. He sees you smiling, laughing, and having fun with the other girls, but your eyes are only on him, and his on yours.

Alex wasn't a man of many words, but ever since you had come into the office, a part of his heart had started to beat so rapidly, that he always turned to look at you whenever you untied your tight ponytail and let your hair fall, whenever you stretched your back and he could see the outline of your chest peek through your shirt, he was gone. He never tried to speak to you, he was too self-conscious to do so, he lived all of his fantasies of you and him in his head, he had the sound of your voice engraved on his head. Whenever you dropped something he was always there to pick it up and hand it to you, or when the printer was out of paper he was the only one that gave you some new paper to work on, every day when he arrived with fresh goods he made sure you were the first to get the warmest piece or the biggest slice. He did all of that, but you didn't think it was out of a crush, you thought it was him just being nice, and man if he could tell you how wrong you were.

In his head, you two had thrown away all of the people and there was only you and him dancing to some old music that no one thought was fit for the occasion, but you thought there was no better timing than this one, but the fun ends as you feel someone's breath on your neck, one of your supervisors drunkenly whispers close to your ear...

"That skirt fits your bum very well" You rolled your eyes and walked away, not saying another word, Alex following you closely. He catches you at the elevator just in time sliding inside.

"Hi," He says out of breath, you giggle and he brushes his hair away, "Where are we going?" You smiled as you heard the excitement of his voice.

"Well, I was planning to go the rooftop again..." You say looking down to the floor, he saw how that man had whispered to your ear something that woke up a flaming rage inside you, something so profoundly disgusting, you just wanted to get away as fast as you could.

"I have a better idea..." You smile, he presses down at the button, and he waits patiently in the opposite corner, facing you with a smile, you wonder in your head where he was taking you, while he was battling in his head what else could he say to keep you interested, he thought he could bore you at any given time. The doors of the office were open, the lights were completely down, and only the lights of the city that shone through the cracks of the curtains could show you two the way. He noticed you were afraid to step inside, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you in, "The cameras are down for the night, don't worry love, no one's gunna 'now we were here"

You smiled, "I'm not worried about that... just not a big fan of the dark..." You giggled and he played along with you, he grabbed your hand tighter, making your cheeks lightly blush as you walked into his cubicle, you sat on his desk while he pulled from a corner a carton box and took out a big bottle of whisky, "I didn't take you as a bad boy, Al"

"Well, this is the only thing that takes some of me headaches from when me and Jamie stay late doin' those bloody Excel sheets" Then he takes out from his pocket his MP3 connecting it to the little speaker next to his desk, playing more music for you as he quickly goes to the break room and fetches you a plastic cup and a soda. He sits on his chair and pours you some coke and whisky, and when he severs you a good amount of alcohol he hands you the cup and grabs the bottle touching the edge of the bottle with your cup and you both drink away.

"Thanks... I couldn't handle more wine... needed something stronger" You smile at him, and he brushes his long hair away.

"Do you wanna know something else about the office?" You smile and nod your head, fixing your hair to the side, he shuffles on his chair and you hear the sound of his lighter coming off, he puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it, blowing the smoke up directly without causing the fire alarm to go off.

"What the fuck?!" You both break into laughter, "Oh my God!-" He lightly shushes you to make you talk quieter, you keep laughing until your abdomen hurts, and you sip on your drink once more, "Imagine the day I decide to set my supervisor's chair on fire... God"

"He's a dickhead" You nod your head.

"I don't even wanna say anythin' else, I mean he doesn't touch me or anything but that doesn't mean he cannot say anything to me... which is what angers me" He nods his head, turning on the lamp next to his computer, "Thanks"

"I wanted to see you while you're talking" He smiles, and you lightly blush once more, "Next time he says anything to you, why don't we put some tacks on his desk?" You giggle together, you can't help but stare at the way the corners of his mouth rise to make that cute smile appear, you like how discreet he was, lightly grazing your hand whenever he laughed, or how his eyes sweep down to gaze your body.

"I was wrong about you Al," You say, he drags his chair closer to you very slowly so you don't notice but you do, and you don't mind it, "You're the only interesting person in this office"

"Why is that? You're always laughing with Brian at the copier" You stare at him with a cheeky grin.

"Are you jealous or something?" You tease him, and he stutters into his words trying to fix his mistake.

"No, I just thought that... never mind" He looked away, taking another sip of the bottle, you grab the cigarette trapped in between his fingers, taking a drag and staring at him deeply.

"He's just a funny guy, there's nothin' much going on with me" His eyes light up, so after all, you weren't the only one who was concerned about him being single or not.

"I'm glad," He blurs out, making you both smile, "What is so interesting about me anyway?" You bit your bottom lip, taking a big sip from his bottle of whiskey, the liquor scratching your throat but it goes down easily once you sip on your coke.

"I mean, isn't it obvious?" You smile at him, starting to feel a bit dizzy, he takes a big chug of his bottle while you talk, "I just know that you don't say everything that you think, there's more to you"

"You're not far from the truth," He says nudging his head and leaning closer to you, resting his elbow on his desk next to your leg, you saw his face properly now, and he was a dream.

"Why? Is there something you want to say to me, Alex?" You teased leaning in closer to his face, your hand almost touching his, you could smell his cologne now, the space in between you two almost being none.

"I'm afraid there aren't enough words for that" He looks down to the slit in your shirt, your arm squeezing your tits together, he could see your black lace bra perfectly, he had this insatiable need for you, "But as you know already, I am not a man of many words, I take actions" His eyes looked down to your lips, licking his, already drooling to get a taste of your lips, until you suddenly pulled away, scratching the back of your head, "Wait, what happened?"

"If this is going to happen, we can't kiss"

"But..." There has to be a but always.

"I'm not gonna do it if we're gonna be awkward in the mornin'" You cross your arms sitting comfortably on the desk.

"I'm not like that," He says with a smile, but he sees your position and your limits, he just wanted a little bit of you, from the moment he saw you outside all by yourself under the moonlight with your beautiful eyes and lips smiling to him he knew he had to strip out of his costume and talk to you at that moment, he needed and wanted you now than anything, "If you don't want me to kiss you, can I at least touch you?" You bit your lower lip, sitting upright, his eyes only looking at you and not anywhere else begging you to say yes, he desires you with a big ache, you see it right in his eyes, just as transparent as glass.

"Yes.." He cups your cheeks and his face approaches yours, looking at you with lust, his lips peck the inner corner of your lips, traveling up to your earlobe, his fingers lightly playing with your hair, and his lips kissing your neck very gently at first, but then he licks his lips, kissing your neck with big wet kisses all over the place, sniffing every last bit of your perfume. He kicks away his chair, standing up to run his hands down your sides, unbuttoning your shirt gently, sneaking his hands to your bra, kneading your tits and squeezing them hard, you sigh and he breathes in your quiet moans and sighs like smoke, letting it consume him from the inside out.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful" He whispers into your ear, kissing the left side of your chest, where your heart is, you try to fight the urge to kiss him, but impatiently, he's in great need to show you real pleasure, to tear down your rules and let him taste your mouth, there was nothing he desired more in that moment.

You untuck your shirt, letting him enjoy the taste of your skin, and his hands feel your bare skin, his hair lightly tickling your neck, and you couldn't escape the need to run your hands thru his soft curls, lightly pulling on his hair as he lets your tits spill out from your bra, sucking on them and nibbling your nipples with his teeth, his tongue licking and his mouth sucking every inch of your skin, leaving red bruises on your chest so you don't forget who's been there the next morning.

He momentarily pulls away from you, his lips tearing off your skin like scar tissue on your knees, "What?-"

"You were right, love," He says, the look in his eyes sending shivers all over your body, "I haven't told you everything"

"What else have you got to say to me?" His hands slowly travel down to your legs, riding up your skirt until they unravel your black lace underwear.

"I've been watching you ever since you came here, every day, every time you felt exhausted and you stretch your back against the chair, I just want to make that go away... make you feel brand new... drop a note and tell you to meet me in the bathroom, and make you sigh out of pleasure and not from being tired, I only see you" His eyes dug in yours as he kneeled in front of you, "Maybe you think I'm quiet and dorky, but you don't even know for how long I've been thinking of you like this" His knuckles pull your soaking wet panties to the side, his eyes watching you as his fingers enter your body and his lips suck on your pussy harshly, slowly your orgasms started to get louder and louder each time his fingers rimmed your walls. Shamelessly he licks your pussy up, swallowing every ounce of the wetness that leaks out of you, "You're so fuckin' tight babe, taste so delicious"

"Fuck... please, don't stop!" You push his head in between your legs, starting to feel that ache getting bigger and bigger as he sucks right at the spot you needed hard, his fingers fuck your pussy faster, filling up that hole so well, more wetness rushes out from your legs, your end is yet to come, you feel it crawling up from your belly to your chest, starting to form in your throat as a scream until he takes his mouth off from your warmed up cunt, leaving you to breathless and needy for more.

He covers your mouth with his hand, sliding down his fingers covered in your arousal into your mouth, your lips sucking them hard until he makes you gag around them, pulling them out from your mouth with a string of saliva, "Can you be quiet for me?" He says it in such an easy way you're so amazed.

"Mhm," You bit your bottom lip.

"Tell me babe... are you gonna let me fuck you or are you just gonna pretend your pussy isn't drooling for some of it?" Your cheeky smile is no competition for him, he's certain you're in great need of more than just fingers and sucking.

You grab the buckle of his belt, undoing it very slowly, your hand palming his hard-on, you smiled as you felt the size and weight of his cock, biting your bottom lip as you take him out of his boxers and see him on the flesh. The tip of his cock leaked some wetness, he sighed as you give his veiny cock a few strokes, the tip of your thumb rubbing down his head, spreading it all over his cock. His hands cover your mouth pushing your head back and his tip rims your clit, lubing up his cock with your juices. You were trying to find a way to get more pleasure from him but the only way was right in front of you, "You know what to say babe... don't act like a dumb little cunt"

Your eyes lock in his, his lips a few inches close to yours, to kiss your lips, "Fuck me, Alex, please..." You bite your lower lip as the tip of his cock slides down tightly inside you, making you sigh. His fingers dig into your thighs, and you rock yourself against him, your elbow in the desk while the other holds Alex's shoulder tightly, his hand gripping the wall and the other one in your lower back. He rocks his hips against yours, fucking you slowly and passionately, the tip of your nose against his, he liked to watch your pupils dilate as he buries himself deep inside you.

"I loved leaving you just like that... soaked in all of your juices for me cock to slip inside you... God, you're so fuckin' wet for me... you fuckin' cock lovin' whore"

"Fuck you" You pant, "Fuck you Alex" You push your hips against his harder, his hands scattered in the back of your head, wrapping his arm around you, driving his cock in and out of you so hard, you were slowly losing yourself in his arms, enjoying how good he's fucking you.

"You love it," He says with a grin on his lips, his lips moaning against yours, grazing each other, laying one in another, but so far from being sealed together, that kept him on the verge, everything being strictly physical, the desire of wanting the feeling of your lips around his will bother him for the rest of the night.

Your tits bounce against his chest, sweat drips down from his forehead, and he's forcing himself to handle longer just for you to come on his cock so hard your whole body would feel light and high in the sky. You grip his shoulder tightly, holding yourself up with your hand, his fingers wrapped around your neck as he feels your pussy dragging him in, getting tighter with each stroke of his cock in your walls. His thumb went down in between your legs, rubbing your clit in tight little circles, forcing you to come, your abdomen pushing out your last cry of pleasure, and you choked out a little sigh of relief.

Alex was fast to pull out of you, you watch how his hand made a fist around his cock, and you didn't want him to finish like that. You willingly get down on your knees, and blow him thoroughly, "Jeeesus fuckin' christ... fuck!" He made a fist with your hair, "You want me to cum in your mouth, babe?" You hummed as a yes, sucking him harder as he drove your head back and forward. He drove his hips into your mouth, pushing your head until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag all over him, feeling him come inside your mouth in hot spurts at the feeling of your soft plump lips. You swallowed without him having to say it, "Mmm... fuuckin' hell, that was..."

"Really good," You said, he helped you get to up from the ground, holding hands and smiling at each other.

"You're ok? Your knees don't hurt or anything?" You giggled lightly, feeling a little strange about how much he cared for those little things.

"No, no, I'm alright" You turned to fix your blause, putting each button back on, and when you faced him back, you saw him staring at you with his big puppy eyes in awe, "What?"

"You've... um, your eye... I'll fix it" He grabbed the edge of his sleeve, he was wearing a basic white button-up shirt, denim jeans, and a belt. He cleaned the stain in your eye from the crying, and while you fixed your hair, he put everything in his desk back in order.

"Thank you, Al," You said with an honest smile, "I had fun"

"Sounds like a goodbye," He says with a fainted smile.

"No... it's not, I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He fakes a smile and says yes with his head, before you head out, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in to give you a warm hug, you lean back to get a better look at him and say, "Sweet dreams, Al"

"You too" You break the hug, leaving the confused man with his big brain and questions all by himself.

When he drove to his apartment and laid down on his bed, he grabbed his phone, wanting to send you a message, but what type of message? You said you were ok, even said you had fun, but he was hooked. He was aching to know more about you, to know what you think. The rest of the night he kept looping around in his head every word he said to you, and everything you and him had done. He didn't want to sound so needy, but at least he wanted to talk to you.

The next day at the office when Alex sat on his chair, he smiled, vividly remembering what had happened the night before. But he knew something felt strange, he felt something was missing, this feeling was bittersweet, and you came right in through the door with your black low-waist pants, heels, and baby pink shirt with some buttons undone, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

There was a moment when everyone was working quietly in the cubicle, and he pushed himself up from his chair, walking through your cubicle he dropped a little purple post-it note at your desk.

"Break room"

That's all the letter said.

You put the note away in your purse, walking to meet him, you closed the door and he was waiting for you behind it.

"Hey," You said with a gentle smile.

"I- um" You sighed, thinking you knew well what he wanted to say. So, you cut him up before he did.

"Nothin' happened last night, you can forget about it... we had fun, let's leave it like that" But before you could escape him he pulled you back in by your wrist, making shivers run up your arms.

"No, I wasn't gonna-" He smiles very kindly to you, making you feel warm, "I just wanted to ask you out for dinner, tonight... if that's ok?" A little smile crawls from the corner of your mouth.

He liked how you looked with that little smile in the corner of your lips, that little blush creeping up your cheeks, "Yeah, yes"

You both smile at each other very shyly but happily, you nod your head and slowly take a step back but he leans in, his arm wrapping around your waist, "Now that we're sober... is the kissing policy revocable? or..." You break into laughter and take a step closer to him, he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You couldn't believe how just a simple little kiss on the lips could feel so electrifying, his lovely warm lips open to kiss you properly, he tasted the fresh cappuccino in your mouth with soft cinnamon in your breath, mixing with the taste of your lipstick. He tasted like black coffee and a cigarette bright and early in the morning, a mixture that makes one become an addict.

When you pulled back some blush creeps into your cheeks, "I'll see you later then..." You said.

"Last one before you leave" He pulled you in, giving you another soft kiss on your lips, biting down on your bottom lip before your lips tore apart.

A/N

I'll be posting more of your requests soon! I love you all, and I've taken some time to make the playlists fitted for the chapters, some will be longer than the others but I hope you enjoy them all.

[unforth]

i don't know if you are still into 2ha? but what would you say if someone asked you what makes 2ha stand out? It's full of tropes that have been done before and there is nothing new. it's full of cliches according to some people. So, what makes it stand out?

I am still into 2ha, I'd consider it one of my top fandoms right now.

I'll own I find this whole ask rather odd? It implies that novelty is a. possible and b. what I'm looking for in a book.

For a... Name me a book that isn't full or tropes, name me a book that isn't full of "nothing new," name me a book that isn't full of cliches. Enjoyable books aren't ~original~, and imo original is a myth. It's about how the ideas are strung together, not about them being fresh and different and new.

For b... look. I'm almost 42 years old. I've been reading a ton since I was 8. I've read a l.o.t. over the years. And I've come to learn the things I love in characters and books.

Give me a main character (or, in 2ha, BOTH main characters) who thinks they're worthless and will give everything they have to save an innocent stranger. Give me archetypes of self-sacrifice and martyrdom and low self-esteem and adoration and obsession cooked so deep into their bones that it extends over multiple life times. Give me that adoration reciprocated but the pining, oh, it is mutual for these idiots who should be and will be lovers. I'll eat that up every time. Give me someone who thinks they're unlovable but loves the world anyway, and give me someone who loves them so much they'll tolerate the claws.

Give me epic length I can sink my teeth into. Make the plot sprawling, the side characters lush, the world developed. It's okay if some parts drag a little, it's hard to keep momentum over an epic, and one person's "that dragged" is another's "that rocked." Anyway, the slow bits makes the more exciting parts that much more thrilling.

Give me whump, and hurt/comfort, and pain that burns the soul. Make the characters deep and compelling and then confront them with nothing but bad choices, force them to pick... and then see them pick each other, everytime, even in the midst of the darkest night imaginable. Give me unreliable narrators and angst and characters with nobility that shines like the sun even when they're covered in shit.

I adored this kind of story when I was 12 and I started the Wheel of Time and fell in love with Rand al'Thor, and I adore this kind of story now, in Tian Guan Ci Fu and The Husky and His White Cat Shizun and Modu. The patterns in the kinds of books I enjoy most, the ones that make me feral and obsessed, are very consistent, and being Old means I know what those patterns are and I can seek out books that have them, and recognize them when I find them again. It's happening with the book I'm reading now, in fact, and I can feel the feral obsession growling in delight in my brain, lmao.

Ya know how some people go into fanfiction because they love a character and want to see iterations of them over and over a little to the left? Well, that's why I started fanfic, and through fic I found a genre of original fiction that does that for me. I want similar character archetypes in endless iterations of stories, and danmei gives that to me, and that's why I'm up to my nose in danmei fandoms, and why the specific ones I like best are my favorites.

What stands out about 2ha, for me, is that it fits my taste in character archetypes and plot type. If someone out there shares that taste, they'll probably also love it. If they don't share that taste, they may not, but they may, because it's a complex enough book to cater to more than just one specific type of taste. Someone who likes OP control fantasies will also probably like it, for example. I wouldn't recommend it to everyone, and that's not a bad thing. Stories that appeal to everyone tend to be shallow and not attract deep obsession, having sacrificed the depth to draw a wider audience.

Anyway, anon...you phrased this like an anti. 80% of your ask is trashing the book on false premises about tropes and cliches. I genuinely can't tell if this is meant as a troll or if it's sincere, but I've answered as if it's sincere. But regardless, you'll be a lot happier as a reader if you forget originality. Books aren't original. Find an author, genre, series, whatever, that fits your taste, and frolic there. That's the route to happy reading.

I've found mine. I hope you find yours.

[randomfoggytiger]

randomfoggytiger's Roundup: 2025 January drabbles

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While it's usually a gentle and beautiful month for me, January can be long and cruel to others. So! I tried to pump out a couple drabbles regularly to give everyone a little cheer. :DDDDDD

Here's the roundup in case others are interested~.

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INTERCONNECTED DRABBLES

“Pause to Take Stock of Each Precious Moment” (Ao3) 

“Ahhhhhhh,” he heaved, rusty and deep, creaky and contented. “Couch.”

“Couch?” Scully let him carry her-- just this once-- into the living room.

Mulder and Scully bring in the new year.

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"How Embarrassing" (Ao3)

"Scully." The noises stopped. Temporarily. There-- something rustled, fitfully, under the covers. "Whatcha eating."

Broken New Year's goals.

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"Betraying My Cool Exterior" (Ao3)

Mystery of all mysteries: what has his partner done differently this morning. Fortunately, he's distracted by the loose hair slithering down her shoulder. 

Mulder is supportive of his fad-chasing partner.

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"This Isn't About the X-Files" (Ao3)

“You said something I couldn’t understand, but I knew you were going to find out who the whistler was.” She paused, exhaled. “I couldn’t stop you.” 

Scully had a nightmare. (Thanks for @baronessblixen for inspiring this one. :D)

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"It's Misdirection" (Ao3)

Mulder’s torso is suddenly in the doorway, towering still despite the bent angle. The shower humidity saps away into the house’s chill-- neither, however, notices.

In a word, she’s caught. 

Part 2 to "Betraying My Cool Exterior": Scully can't let old habits go.

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"He Looks Suspiciously Like" (Ao3)

It wasn't that he’d distrusted her decision to rifle through his past. It wasn't even that crinkled reports, sloppy entries, and scribbled artistic attempts were all he had left-- most of the photographs had long since been burned.

Scully finds something particularly adorable.

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"This Was a Trap" (Ao3)

It was bait. She knew it was bait: three crispy ketogenic cookies-- mint crunch-- splayed on a perfectly white, perfectly porcelain decorative dish. What else could it be? 

How does one trap a health-conscious Scully?

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"So What Was Your Final Wish, Anyway?" (Ao3)

“Scully, how do you want to die?” 

Mulder had a close call and wants to know his partner's thoughts.

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"Well, Mulder, He's a Teenager" (Ao3)

“You’re, like, Catholic, right?” Rodney Treebank sucked his cheeks in, slapped his tongue against the roof of his palate. (“He was ‘mewing', Scully,” Mulder clucked later-- a precursor to their back-in-my-day communion, one more common with age. “What happened to latchkey rugrats?”)

Had to work in an incorrect quotes meme I saw drifting around the internet-- I had to.

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"To Help Me Cope" (Ao3)

Today, however, he paused, tune dropping off abruptly. 

Lullabies and loss. (Shoutout to my inability to listen to music of any kind without becoming depressed.)

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“If I Had to Settle Down, Build a Home”  (Ao3)

“Morning to you, too,” Scully mumbled, shuffling over in an approximation of the dead. “You left me alone to research Bigfoot scarecrows?” 

Part 2 to "So What Was Your Final Wish, Anyway?": Mulder's and Scully's sometimes at-odds nighttime routines.

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"When You Were a Youngster" (Ao3)

She’d been flush with chagrin for-- Mulder checked his watch-- ten minutes now. In the grand scheme of embarrassing recollections, this one admittedly ranked rather low. But “low” had extended layers of mortification to a respectable Irish Catholic medically trained in procedures and regulations.

As @sagan-starstuff says: Scully, wear your PPE.

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EXTRA DRABBLES

"What the Irish Call a 'Fetch'" (Ao3)

It’s not a stranger’s, it’s not an aunt’s, it’s not her sister’s. It’s her, babbling toddler balanced on a hip. Identical horror bleeds from their noses, identical fear wells in their eyes. 

Scully sees a glimpse of her future.

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Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

Tagging @today-in-fic.