#but something about doing it now just feels weird. like kind of a shitty move

[ccrv-7]

god im going to scream

[simpjaes]

mdni. req by anon: pleaseeeeeee more innocent Jungwon with a dom Heeseung or Jake that gets jealous and ruins everything for him..like imagine Jungwon is finally going to lose his virginity to Y/N and Heeseung/Jake finds them in the act then decides to make him sit and watch how to do it correctly..

wc: 1.4k

tags: virginity loss, jungwon is jake's brother and jake is ur ex bf, reader is a whore we love her, voyeurism, exhibitionism

It’s not that he’s doing it wrong, it’s just that he doesn’t have the confidence to own the way he moves his body.

Jungwon, your favorite person in the world. Your ex boyfriend’s brother, who you simply couldn’t leave behind after the break up. Yeah, probably not an ideal situation you’re in right now but it’s still a situation that feels right.

Sure, hanging out at your ex boyfriend’s house was weird at first but all three of you just kind of got used to it after Jake realized there’s no getting rid of you for as long as he lives there with his brother. Exhausting? Yes. Annoying? So fucking annoying.

It’s not that Jake minds you being around. After all, he’s not the one who wanted to break up. You broke up with him. Imagine how he felt just four days after the break up, walking into his house and seeing you lounging on the couch as if he was still allowed to pounce on you. He couldn’t do that, of course. For one, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore, and secondly, because his bitch-ass little brother was always crowded up next to you on the couch. 

You guys weren’t that close he originally thought. At least throughout your relationship with him, Jungwon was never clinging to you like this. So, really, Jake doesn’t mind being able to still see you. What he minds is the fact that you’re here to see his little brother, and it’s a bit…

Well…

It doesn’t sit very well with him when it comes to the way you now interact. Like, really? You’re gonna break up with him over some shitty excuse of “we just aren’t on the same path in life” only to run and cling to his little brother? As if Jungwon knows what path he’s on either? Hell, the guy only just chose his major after a full semester at your college. 

Exhausting. That’s what the two of you are. And Jake tries his fucking hardest to not witness you when you’re over. 

That is, until it becomes far too difficult. Until that pit in his stomach bubbles up with envy so draining that he can’t help but barge into the room. 

“Like this?” Jake had heard his brother’s broken voice through the door that he should not have been listening through. 

Hearing Jungwon sound like that isn’t exactly new. After all, he always sounds embarrassing when a girl is around. Jake really would have just rolled his eyes and went back to his room if it weren’t for what he heard next.

“Does it feel good when I do this?” Jake heard this time, Jungwon’s voice coming out in more of a breathy moan. 

“Yeah, so good–” You responded with your own moan. 

“Ah–it’s so warm–”

And for a split second, Jake wondered if maybe you guys were doing massages or something. Trying to make sense of why the fuck you’re in there moaning alongside his brother. Surely you’re not fucking him. Jungwon is a virgin as far as Jake’s concerned and…if he’s really about to lose it to you, that’s beyond crossing a boundary. 

Both of you should know better. 

So, naturally, Jake doesn’t even knock. 

The door swings open with the force of a thousand suns as Jake stands there and connects the dots. Nope, no massages. Yep, that’s your legs spread around his brother. Oh, yeah. Okay. Wow. 

Jungwon is no longer a virgin it seems, considering his cock is clearly nestled inside of you. All the way. He saw the jerky movements of his hips just before the two of you snapped your heads to him. He saw the way you cling to Jungwon harder. 

And the three of you just stare at each other, you frozen with your piercing gaze on Jake, Jungwon’s cock plunged into you as deep as he can go, with little pants because he can still feel you clenching around him and he’s really, really trying not to moan right now. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Jake finally lets out, furrowing his brows and zeroing in on Jungwon. “You decided to lose it to her of all people?”

There’s silence for a long while as Jungwon tries not to moan out an answer, feeling both awkward and entirely aroused because you’re still so wet, you’re still holding onto him, you’re still clenching. 

“And you’re not even making her feel good?!” Jake continues as his gaze falls to you. 

It’s not that you look bored, or even that you were bored. It’s just, Jake knows how you are in bed. He knows you very well, and seeing you be more in control, guiding someone else is definitely not something he thought you were into. In fact, no matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you always acted like a fucking virgin. Like his cock hurt you every single time, like you couldn’t help but moan. You couldn’t help but babble incoherently. You couldn’t help but orgasm within the first five minutes.

It’s the fact that he never saw this side of you, and you’re giving it to his fucking brother while taking something away from him. 

“Jake–” You manage to get out, so turned on beyond belief that you barely recognize how awful you look in this situation. Then again, you’re no longer dating Jake. It’s not like you cling to Jungwon because you want him instead. 

Jungwon is just…really cute and needy. Jungwon just needs some love. Jungwon was just nervous about this girl he’s supposed to meet this weekend and wanted to get some experience in. 

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for Jungwon, Jake could probably give less of a shit as to why you’re in here letting Jungwon fumble between your legs. If you’re gonna fuck anyone in this house, it’s gonna be him. You guys can fucking go outside otherwise. 

“Move.” Jake says, now making his way toward the bed and practically shoving Jungwon out of you. 

There’s a wet sound when he does that, Jungwon letting out both a pornographic and frustrated moan when he falls back. Jake spares no glance at him though, all he does is shove him further, all the way until he topples off of the bed. 

You don’t really care whose hands are on you though. While you wanted to be this person for Jungwon and while you feel bad that he barely got to even start, you really, really don’t mind the familiar grasp of Jake. With the way he puts his hands on your knees and spreads your legs wide. 

You blink up at him, seeing Jungwon peek at you from the edge of the bed as he keeps himself on the floor. Probably both intimated and embarrassed at what’s happening. 

“I can’t believe you.” Jake announces now, leaning his face in between your legs and inspecting how stretched Jungwon managed to get you. “I can’t believe you got this wet for him.”

You roll your eyes, clenching hard just so Jake can see that you’re still just as needy as you’ve always been. 

Jake sees it and squeezes his eyes shut with a frustrated sigh. Of course you’d do this. Of course you still want him, sexually, at least. And then he snaps around to look at Jungwon. 

“If you ever try to fuck her again, at least make it count.” 

Jungwon looks away and avoids eye contact. He knows Jake is pissed, not that he cares or anything. It’s not like he’s not allowed to be pissed off too. Jake really just walked into the room thirty seconds after he officially lost his virginity. Of course he’s not gonna be good at fucking yet.

And Just as Jake turns back to you, whipping his cock out and sliding his fingers down the length of it to stiffen up, Jungwon tries to get up and leave quietly. 

No, no, no. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asks through a seething breath, sliding into you with ease and a slight moan. “You’re going to sit right there and watch.”

Jungwon doesn’t know why he listens, but he does. He finds himself right back on the floor. His hands that were covering his cock slowly begin to palm when he keeps his eyes on you and the way you moan out for your ex boyfriend. 

He’s not happy right now, but you. You turn him on. He wishes so much that it isn’t Jake here doing this, that’s his brother, after all. Still, he watches.  And somehow, he learns.

[alchemistc]

She's not ...entirely sure this is a good idea.

Even as she raises her hand to knock she's second guessing herself.

The thing is - the thing is there aren't a lot of people in her life who don't take one look at her and make assumptions. She's petite, she's blonde, her face is eerily symmetrical.

When people see her, they think they know her.

Cap is great. The sort of man she wishes she'd known more of, growing up. The kind of man who stood in front of the entire crew and doled out cleaning duties and cooking duties to his men and didn't blink an eye handing her inventory, but pulled aside a guy six years into the job to inform him that if he made a snide comment about having to do Mona's job again he'd be looking for a new station. Respectfully.

The kind of man who let his crew cut loose and created a kind of family behind those bay doors, but didn't take their shit when they got out of hand

The kind of man who looked at her and just saw another firefighter.

Cap is great.

It's just...

Well, the guys don't go to Cap for advice, and she knows once upon a time that kind of hurt his feelings, but this feels like one of those things his husband is better equipped to handle.

("It's because he's older, right?" Cap had asked once, failing miserably at holding in a pout while the team around him demolished the roast he'd obviously spent hours prepping the night before.

Fred had still had half a loaf of bread in his mouth when he explained that talking to their boss about their sex lives just felt like an HR nightmare.

"So you go to my boyfriend instead?")

Mona's still considering turning heel and leaving the way she came when she hears whistling around the side of the house, and before she can make a break for it, Cap's husband is rounding the corner of the porch, winding his hands in a grease rag, and he's catching sight of her, raising a brow, slowing his steps.

He must see the panicked look in her eye.

"I can turn back around and pretend you were never here," he murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and Mona feels every ounce of flight just seep from her bones.

Yeah. Okay. She gets why the guys all think he's the one to go to when they've royally fucked something up.

There's an ease to him, a gentleness that she knows for a fact was hard fought.

"No, I..."

The brow ticks up a little more.

"I just found a new sour Evan won't touch with a ten foot pole, if you're gonna be here a minute," Tommy says, and any resistance left vanishes. Mona's been to enough of Cap's barbecues to know his husband always has the best beer in the county.

"Yeah, okay."

Tommy crosses the length of the porch and glances glumly at his greasy hands. "You mind grabbing the door? Evan throws a fit every time I leave fingerprints behind."

She's interrupting his day, she realizes. He's a weird sort of semi-retired - flies for the county sometimes during wildfire season, flips classic cars from their huge ass garage around the side of the house, spends a month teaching courses to new pilots every year out of state and it's always the crankiest they ever get to see Cap. People charter his chopper, sometimes, although lately it seems like he only keeps the thing around so he can take Cap up to watch spectacular sunsets because they're the most sickeningly perfect couple she's ever met.

Mona grabs the door. Shuffles in ahead of him when he shows no signs of moving, and makes her way down the hall to the kitchen because she's been here enough times by now not to feel as weird about how welcoming they both were right away.

He uses his rag to pull open the sink cabinet and grab the heavy duty soap from underneath to wash his hands.

The scent rolls over her in waves, throwing her back about fifteen years to her parents tiny little apartment over the shop, her father's rough and callused hands soaking under shitty water pressure, the grease under his fingernails he could never quite scrape clean.

Tommy tips a chin at the fridge. "Grab me one, too? Bottle openers on the side."

There's an ease to the way he says it, like this is a normal occurrence, like Mona's ever stepped foot across the threshold for anything that wasn't a station-wide get together. She supposes for him it probably is. At least a few of the guys act like he's their dad, wandering into the house without even bothering to knock, gathering around him when he shows up at the station like lost little puppies.

He's used to it.

He hums his thank you when she sets one of the bottles on the island beside him, and Mona glances around to distract herself while he's drying his hands.

A couple dozen pictures of Cap and Tommy, in various stages of their lives.

The fridge is plastered with pictures. A couple she recognizes as Cap's sister and brother-in-law, two adorable kids at their knees. A guy standing next to a kid wearing a cap and gown and leaning on two crutches. An older man she's lovingly heard Cap refer to as basically his dad - the reason they eat better at work than anyone has the right to. A couple she'd seen at the wedding, standing with a kid she remembers Cap staring at like he was seeing a ghost. There's so many people that she doesn't know, but - there's the station pictures too. Candids of the boys when they were living in the Captain's house, back when Cap first got here, when she'd still been a year and a half from graduating high school and didn't have a fucking clue what she wanted to do with her life. The Christmas that Fred had cursed them with the q-word and Tommy had spent the day in the station kitchen putting together a meal they'd all stuck around to eat after shift despite the exhaustion seeping into their bones, all of A shift crammed together around a tiny wobbly table to squeeze into the picture.

She gets stuck on the picture of the two of them in hard hats, building what she's pretty sure is the wrap around porch she's snuck a few cigarettes on when the house gets a little overwhelming. There's something about the way they're looking at each other that makes her want to cry, a little.

Fuck.

Damnit.

Tommy leans over to tap the picture with a grin. "We had a blowout fight the night before our buddy took this picture," he says, the deep grooves of his smile stretched wide across his face. "I'd left my job and sold my house six months earlier to chase him across the country and he was convinced if he didn't find a way to turn every half-thought-out desire of mine into a reality that I was gonna vanish in the night. He bought the lumber without telling me and I came home to him and his best friend ripping out the stairs to the front door."

Mona's instantly drawn in.

He makes them sound like a train wreck.

If she's got the math right, that was her senior year. She remembers seeing them around town and thinking they were annoyingly sweet. She remembers her mom baking Tommy a casserole for the excuse of getting all the gossip about the Captain's mysterious paramour so she had the upper hand at her book club that weekend.

Tommy taps another. The two of them under a pergola, the expressions on their faces so disgustingly smitten Mona remembers wanting to blow a raspberry in the middle of the ceremony. She'd been so convinced she'd never let herself be so fucking dependent on another person for her happiness.

"He kept it a secret that he'd invited my father to the wedding until the night before. I spent most of my night with a punching bag instead of Evan." He points out another photo from the wedding. "The photographer tried to murder me when she saw my knuckles. Evan could barely fit the ring over my finger."

"Who snitched?" Mona asks, narrowing her eyes, and Tommy grins, huffs a laugh. He gestures vaguely at her face.

"You've got the look," he tells her, which doesn't really explain a whole lot. "And none of Evan's crew ever makes their first visit anything but love life issues."

"It could be something else," Mona argues, gesturing with her beer, and one of his brows ticks up. "It's not, but it could be."

"You want something to eat? Evan's been experimenting with cakes again, and the red velvet white chocolate escaped the discards."

"Is my so called look that bad?"

He grins. "Mostly I'm looking for an excuse for cake before noon."

Christ, he's good at this. It's actually a little eerie, how quickly he's set her at ease. It's been over a year and the guys still call her prickly when they think she can't hear them, but she never calls them out on it because they're not wrong. It takes her forever to warm up to people.

"Is that how this usually works? You butter us up with Cap's food and get us to spill our guts?"

He's already digging plates from a cabinet next to the stove. She can't see his expression, but she can picture the grin on his face. "Usually they raid my fridge and put their feet up on my coffee table before I've fully registered that they're here. It's sort of a novelty to get to act like a host in my own home."

That checks out, if she's being honest. They're all a bunch of rabid animals who've been emboldened by Cap's open door policy and his infectious smile and his incredibly hot and talented husband. She's never quite sure if the guys want to be him or screw him - not that Tommy's ever looked twice at anyone who wasn't Cap.

"I think I'm broken," Mona admits, the words coming out in a rush, her eyes on the dutch oven tucked under one of the wide kitchen windows.

Tommy slides a slice of fucking delicious looking cake her way and takes a swig of his beer. Waits.

Mona reaches for the fork and spills her guts.

---

"Oh, hey Mo," Cap says, stumbling his way over the threshold, eyes lighting on his husband and his expression going gooey.

Tommy broke into the rack of Banquet's an hour ago and Mona's pretty sure she's one with the couch. It's a good couch. When she'd told Tommy so twenty minutes ago there'd been a gleam in his eye she didn't understand.

She's still a little too buzzed to worry about the fact that she's oozing into the cushions and emotionally wrecked. She hasn't cried in front of another human being in at least six years. Tommy's probably a wizard, or something.

"Everything good?" Cap asks, and she knows that they've got a sort of agreement - unless Tommy thinks something is gonna affect the work, whatever Tommy talks about with them doesn't reach Cap's ears.

"Men," Mona huffs, and Cap pauses, shoots another look into the living room.

"Yeah. Men."

"No Cap. Men," she repeats, and he nods, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

"Oh. Men," he enunciates, and Mona feels the scowl on her face grow wider when the two of them share a sappy look. It's super fucking inconvenient to be surrounded by the proof of true fucking love when she's trying to convince herself she's already too jaded to find it. "If you wanna stay for dinner I can tell you the story of the time Tommy tried to leave me because he thought he could make my decisions for me."

Even Tommy's scowl is sappy as hell. It's gross. Shes having a hard time convincing herself it's not the best thing she's ever seen.

She tips her neck against the back of the couch to glance up at him. "Who snitched?"

Cap's laugh filters through the room, and right across from her, where the whole world and Mona can see, Tommy's expression goes warm and vulnerable, like the sound has soothed a few decades of wounds. "Word of advice? Never leave Harry with a secret and a crowded room."

[silencesscreams]

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

-

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

-

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

-

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames” you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

[immortalmrwavell]

Getting The Job

(Original story posted November 7th 2021. Original story title “Better Life, Cop Life”) This story has been mildly Updated!

Recently Eric’s life had been going down the drain. First he split up with his boyfriend Jake after discovering he was cheating. Then he lost his job due to staff cuts. And to top it off he then lost his old apartment since it was all in Jake’s name. Now his ex was living in their old place with the guy he cheated with while Eric was struggling to find a new job while living in the cheapest apartment he could find. As he applied for shitty job after job he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve all this? Was it all some kind of cruel universal joke?

As he was job hunting, one of the positions that popped up was a job at a small clothing shop called “Threads for Life”. The description of the job itself was extremely vague but he assumed it would just be retail. Working a till and serving customers etc. So he applied.

Surprisingly they were the first to get back to him about his application and in such a short time frame as well. They emailed asking for him to come in for an interview. Of course Eric accepted. Why wouldn’t he? The only weird thing was how close this shop seemed to be. It was just down the road from his old apartment and still rather close to his current one but he could swear he’d never seen or heard of the shop before. He just chalked it up to him being unobservant and forgetful.

On the day of the interview Eric found the shop just where it was said to be. Even after seeing it though, nothing clicked. He could’ve sworn it wasn’t here before. He shook the odd feeling off however as he stepped up to the front door perfectly on time and looking his best.

Upon entering he was greeted by a middle aged man who introduced himself as the owner of the establishment, Tony. The two exchange greetings before Tony ushered Eric to follow him. Eric expected to be taken immediately to an office but instead Tony simply walked through the many isles of clothing with him while chatting casually about the shop and its history.

Before Eric had assumed this to be a simple clothes shop. One that sold shirts, pants and all the rest like most other shops. And it did. But something Eric was quick to notice was how most of the clothes seemed to be matched together in outfits. Rather than being separated into different sections, almost all the clothes in the shop had already been prematched. There were plenty of casual combos like t-shirts and jeans or shorts and tank tops however as they moved from aisle to aisle there were a very noticeable amount of clothes that seemed more like costumes.

Some were more understandable like suits. But a lot of the others?… Eric took note of medical scrubs, fireman uniforms, motorcycle gear, handyman clothes, police uniforms, cowboy costumes, construction clothes and so much more. Eric also couldn’t help noting that none of the clothes seemed to be marketed towards women. He supposed the shop specialised in men’s attire specifically. Still he couldn’t help but find the layout of the store to be… strange.

“Soooo… Eric was it? Before I can give you a job. I want to ask you a couple questions.” The owner said as he sat down on a cushioned stool near the back of the shop, prompting Eric to do the same.

Eric of course agreed to this as questions were standard procedure for almost any interview so he was ready for it..

“Okay first question then. Growing up, did you ever have any dreams of who you’d eventually become? What job you’d want to strive for? What kind of man you’d want to become?” Tony asked.

It was a strange question for sure but Eric still pondered it for a moment before answering. “Well I don’t think I was ever dead set on anything but I remember wanting to be something along the lines of a fireman… or a police officer maybe?”

Tony nodded, seeming pleased with that answer. “Okay then second question. Are you content with the current direction your life has taken or would you still like to fulfill that childhood dream if you could?”

Eric chuckled at the bizarre question. “Well… my life hasn’t exactly been going in a good direction recently. If I could change some things I would. But if you’re asking me whether I’d wanna become a cop then… I just don’t think I have what it takes.” He gestured down at his body. “I’m thin and lanky. Don’t really go to the gym that much and I’m not all that good with confrontation. To be honest I just don’t think I have the right mindset to be a cop you know?” Eric huffed before looking back up at the owner. “And no offense but what does that have to do with me working here?”

Tony didn’t answer at first. He just smiled before standing back up again. The owners eyes glanced around the store, mainly at all the costumes and then turned back to Eric.

“Alright. I think I can give you a job.”

Eric was surprised when he heard that. All he’d done was answer two silly questions. He tried to query as to how those questions even mattered but Tony simply asked Eric to follow him. Confused as ever, Eric did just that.

The pair made their way back down the isles of outfits. They passed by the suits, doctors scrubs and all the other costumes yet again. Only the weird thing was now that Eric was getting a closer look at them, he started to notice how real the costumes looked. They weren’t just silly fake costumes you’d wear to a party. They were the real deal! Actually looking as though they belonged to real firemen and real doctors. Even the tradie outfits looked dirty as if they’d been used for actual tradie work.

Tony stopped in front of the police uniforms. Eric was quick to notice just how real those looked as well. Not just uniform but genuine looking police badges as well. Not to mention the radio, utility belt and even a body cam that all looked completely real. As if they’d been taken directly from actual cops and put on display.

“Pick one.” Was all Tony said.

“What? Seriously?” Eric was baffled. This had to be some kind of joke right?

“Oh come on. Humour me a little. Pick one out.” Tony urged, patting Eric on the back. “Though if I were you I’d certainly pick that one.” The shop owner pointed out a specific uniform amongst the selection. Eric didn’t really see why it’d matter which one he chose as they mostly looked the same anyway.

Eric sighed. “Fine, I’ll pick that one then. Now what? Want me to go try it on.” He joked only to be met by an affirming nod from Tony.

“Changing rooms are just over there.”

Eric raised an eyebrow at the man but decided what the hell. He took the uniform off the rack along with the equipment. Tony then picked up the large black boots and placed them on top of the uniform in Eric’s hands. Eric shook his head as he turned and walked off towards the changing rooms.

He shut the blue curtain behind as he stepped into one of the stalls. It was a fair bit bigger than he’d expected it to be. Eric sat the uniform down on the bench before striping himself down to his boxer briefs. After setting his own clothes to one side, he began to get dressed in the police uniform.

First thing he did was pull on the pants which he found to be rather baggy. He sat down to prevent them from falling as he grabbed the shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up. He made sure to tuck it into his pants before grabbing the utility belt and strapping firmly around his waist. He still couldn’t believe it had a real taser attached to it and everything. Lastly Eric slid his feet into the heavy black boots which were clearly a couple sizes too large.

With that Eric stood up to take a look in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. The uniform was far too big and baggy on him. He looked like he was playing dress up more than anything. He slid his hands into his pockets as looked at himself a little more, amused by the uniform. Though as his hands dug around in the pockets, he realised something was in one of them. It was small and metallic. Eric pulled it out to reveal a name tag with “J. Desmond” engraved on it. Jokingly Eric decided to pin it to his shirt for a laugh.

Eric shook his head again at how silly this all was. Why had Tony made him put this one anyway? With a shrug he was just about to start taking the uniform off, not wanting to look stupid when he stepped out of the changing room. But before he could even start unbuttoning the shirt, he began to feel…weird. Like a warm wave of pure pleasure began flowing over him. A wave so incredible that he almost didn’t notice his body starting to change.

His upper body was first to see a transformation. His back widening significantly as his flat chest began to bubble and swell into two thick hefty pecs. Pecs that grew larger until they started to strain his shirt slightly. The same shirt that’d been hanging loosely off his frame moments ago now starting to fill out at an alarming rate. Especially as his shoulders bulged to the size of cannon balls while his traps grew to match. His waist grew larger but tighter at the same time as fat melted away in place of pure raw muscle. Showing itself even more so in the form of abs. They weren’t chiseled washboard abs, they were thicker and softer than that but still impressive all the same.

But his arms. They were what really caught Eric’s attention. Partly thanks to the cop shirt he was wearing being a short sleeve which gave him a full view of their transformation. He got to watch as veins pulsed across his skinny twig-like arms as though they were being pumped full of unseen energy. And then with pain or warning they started to swell. His previously non existent biceps began hulking into reality as the muscle beneath his skin inflated. It should’ve been impossible. Seemingly gaining mass from nothing. But his eyes witnessed it all. His forearms expanded rapidly while his hands cracked and thickened. His biceps continued to balloon with power and size until they stretched his sleeves. Only then did they finally stop. His veins subsided as his arms reached their new colossal size.

His upper body might’ve been massive now but his lower body was getting ready to catch up. Eric’s waist and hips had already widened enough for the waist of the cop pants to fit securely. Now it was his legs turn to catch up.

In seconds they put on an unbelievable amount of sheer muscle mass. It was as though someone had plugged an air pump into his legs and started filling them up. But it wasn’t air. It was pure real muscle. Eric couldn’t help but groan a little as his pants began to feel tighter. He leaned against the wall of the cubicle for support as his thighs and calves continued to bloat thicker and more powerful by the second. The once baggy cop pants now fit him like a glove. But it wasn’t just his legs. His backside started to swell as well. His once average butt growing into a juicy muscular bubble ass that strained against the back of his pants perfectly. Not to mention his feet cracking and lengthening similar to hands. Growing multiple sizes until they fit perfectly inside the black cop boots he had on.

When the next change kicked in, Eric’s eyes widened as one of his hands instinctively flew towards his crotch. Grabbing his bulge tightly as even that began to swell and grow. His eyes began to roll back as his cock snaked down one his legs, growing girthier in the process. Meanwhile his balls followed suit as they bloated into fat heavy nuts full to the brim with cum.

His body was complete but his head still had to change. A stinging sensation came over his face as it started to morph. The shape of his head and all of his features altering dramatically until he was unrecognisable from the man he once was. His new look being much sharper and masculine in a way that would’ve screamed high school jock had he been a little younger. All the while the light stubble he’d always carried grew into more of a short well kept beard while the messy mid length hair he adorned shortened into faded crew cut.

“Fuuuuuck…” Eric groaned as the transformation subsided at last. There was a clear difference in his voice. It must’ve been altered with the rest of his body. He found himself looking back into the mirror with amazement. No longer was he that scrawny pale figure of a man he’d seen reflected all his life. Now he was… buff. Really buff! And hot as fuck!. It was unreal. The uniform that was more or less falling off him moments ago now clung to him as though he were made for it. He couldn’t stop himself from running his hands up and down his torso, feeling a set of strong abs hiding under his shirt before drifting back up to squeeze his power new pecs through the fabric. He never thought he’d actually have fucking pecs but here he was now! Groping and kneading them.

In all the excitement his cock began to firm up. Eric could feel the blood rushing to his crotch as his growing erection created a clear outline in his pants. He smirked as he brought both hands down towards his crotch. Gently he rubbed his hands across the length of his dick through his pants.

Eric looked back into the mirror before bringing both arms up into flex. His already hard cock twitched at the sight of his biceps bulging, threatening to rip his sleeves in the process. The strength he felt flowing through his arms… No, his whole body was intoxicating! With his left hand Eric proceeded to grasp and squeeze his right bicep. It seemed impossible, like he was living in a lucid dream!

Just then Eric thought of something he’d always wished he could do. He’d never been buff enough to do it before. But now? He lowered his arms to his sides, stood up straight before flexing his chest. His pecs bounced. Eric’s eyes widened in amazement at the sight of his new muscle tits jumping underneath the shirt. He bounced them a few more times before cupping them again with a sense of pure wonder flowing through him. “These feel fucking amazing…”

Once he’d finished admiring his pecs, Eric remembered something else that’d grown. He turned his back to the mirror and looked behind. His cock twitched extra hard this time as he caught sight of his muscular new cop butt straining against his uniform pants. He couldn’t help himself. Before long his greedy hands were reaching back and grasping at his thick bubbly ass. “Oooohh fuuck.” He growled, feeling just how hefty they were. “My ass is fucking huge!…” Eric murmured aloud, lost in the pleasure. So lost in fact that he didn’t even notice Tony peering through the curtains. Watching with a horny gaze as Eric squeezed and groped his fat new ass. Even watching as Eric went as far as to place his hands just under his ass cheeks and start jiggling them, dumbly laughing as he did.

Eric felt his cock pulsing and bucking uncontrollably as he played with his cop butt. So much so that he couldn’t hold back anymore. Soon enough he spun back around to face the mirror again before unzipping his pants. Tony continued to creep in on the show while Eric shoved a hand into his underwear, struggling to free his erection. With a little effort however Eric was able to let out a satisfied sigh as his girthy python sprung free. The thing must’ve been around 9 inches long and insanely thick. It was every man’s dream cock.

A slapping noise could be heard from the changing rooms as Eric began smacking his cock against his hand while he admired it. Every smack sent a pleasurable shiver through his body. He had to stroke it. He was just able to wrap his hand around its full girth before he started to pump. It had to have been at least three times more sensitive than his old cock as Eric couldn’t stop cursing while he pumped it.

He began to jerk faster as he looked over his new body in the mirror again. His handsome bearded face and buff body. How thick his legs were. How buff his arms had become. How massive his chest had grown. Just looking at it all reflected back at him allowed him to jerk off furiously. He then looked down at his cock. He loved seeing it. Soooo thick and excited as some precum started to drip from the tip. With how sensitive it was and intensely he was pumping it, Eric could tell he was gonna to blow any moment.

He turned to his left, getting a perfect side view of his body. He couldn’t help but fixate on how much his ass stood out. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching his free hand back towards it again. Before long he was groping his ass and jerking his cock all at the same time. The new cop was having the time of his goddamn life!

“Fuuuuuuuccck!” That was enough to send him over the edge. Tony, who was still watching, saw Eric's ass clench and his cock erupt with an enormous load. One so big that it shit cum all over the benches adjacent to the new cop as well as his old and now ill fitting clothes. His cock continued to buck and twitch for a good few moments afterwards. Shooting a few more times as it covered the floor in front of him with cum.

“See. I knew you’d like that one.” Tony finally made himself known as he pulled back the curtain.

Eric whipped around, still panting a little. “Fuck I… my deepest apologies sir… I couldn’t stop myself.” He tried to reason.

“No need to apologise Officer.” Tony smirked as he glanced down at Eric’ softening cock, still dripping cum. “Most find it hard to contain themselves after what you just went through. So no need to worry. I’ll even get it cleaned up for ya.” The store manager smiled innocently.

“Officer?…” Eric repeated what the other man had said to him as though it weren’t the truth. It sounded weird and off putting to hear someone call him that. So why did it sound so right at the same time?

“Well you are a Cop now. Officer James Desmond to be precise, so you better get used to hearing it.” Tony nodded towards the name tag that was pinned to Eric’s shirt.

Hearing that name triggered something inside Eric. Memories of being Cop flooded his mind along with a bunch of other unfamiliar memories. He still remembered who he used to be but now he had a whole new life filling his head that made his old one feel like a fleeting dream. A new life as Officer James Desmond.

“Thank you sir. You have no idea how grateful I am for all this…” James stated, his new manners kicking in right away. Immediately after he tucked his fat new cock back into his pants before pulling up the zip. “But I’ve got to be back at the station in half an hour.”

“No worries Officer! I completely understand. You head off and I’ll be sure to get all your ball batter cleaned. Might take me a while though.” Tony joked, earning a chuckle from James.

“Heh sorry sir. Got myself a pair of bull balls down here.” James gave his crotch a quick squeeze. “Well I’m off. If you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask for me down at the staton.” He said, passing by Tony as he exited the changing cubicle.

“Oh don’t worry I will.” Tony replied, giving James’ ass a smack as he passed. He continued to watch James’ ass shake as he sauntered away up until the sexy new cop reached the front door.

James hopped into his car, not even noticing it’d been morphed into a cop car, before starting up the engine. As he drove towards the station he couldn’t help but daydream about plunging his cock into some other hot cop’s ass or having another cop fuck his new bubble butt. Surely some of his buddies down at the station would be down for some fun. According to his memories he seemed to recall catching his own partner checking out his ass a couple times…

Back at the shop. “Another life bettered and another hot stud on the streets. A pretty good day I’d say” Tony sighed to himself with a smile before turning back towards the changing room. Looking over at the huge mess of Cop nut he now had to clean. “Well… best get to work.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I come bearing a brainrot of a relatively normal s/o for the Lin Quei bois except s/o can see dead spirits and always keep a straight face. Sometimes they act weird bc they're avoiding a really nasty looking ghost and have grown numb to it. But when the bois finally catch a glimpse at the 'ghosts' their beloved mentioned all they see is some kind of eldritch horror. (This came from my recent fascination with the manga/anime series Mieruko-Chan)

Rate my really shitty attempt at creating eldritch creatures. (Actually don’t cuz I’m mega sensitive) 🦦

Tomas Vrbada

Ever since being forced by Johnny to watch horror movies, Tomas had been scared shitless when it comes to paranormal activity.

Ghosts, poltergeists, you name it, Tomas is scared of them all.

So when you -his seemingly normal but beloved partner- have been intentionally avoiding a certain spot in the Lin Kuei, shifting your gaze over in it’s direction now and then before ignoring it completely with a straight face, he didn’t think much do it at frisky but the more and more it has became the more Tomas started to feel an indescribable feeling within his chest.

It was the same feeling that he would often get when having been forced to watch a horror movie with Johny, that feeling where he knew something scary was about about to happen, which only worsened the longer the scene continued to build and ramp up the tension and to have him too scared to even look over his own shoulder; only to near enough be scared shitless a second later and loose hold of his popcorn.

Needless to say Tomas had been forced to watch one too many movie where the protagonist was somewhat clairvoyant to known that when you were giving a very specific area, out of the entire Lin Kuei no less, an cautious look. He knew better then to ever indulge in any amount of curiosity that he may have, even if it was a smidge, he would pretended that he saw nothing and would go about his day like normal. He wasn’t about to become one of those stupid characters who’d willingly go into a house that was very clearly haunted by visage alone!

He’s following your example right down to a T! He honestly doesn’t want to know what was lurking in that corner and he wasn’t particularly all that eager to find out either. Tomas would rather life the rest of his life in ignorant bliss if he could, but unfortunately for him that wasn’t going to be the case, for he had found himself having to go to that very room to get something for his brothers. However as soon as he opened the door, Tomas caught a glimpse of the thing in the corner that you’ve ominously warned him about.

It was hideous, so hideous in fact the sight of it made Tomas want to gag but he knew he couldn’t, so he slapped a hand over his mouth. The creature had bore the appearance of a pure bred Russian bear dog, but unfortunately for Tomas, that’s pretty much where the similarities started and stopped; For it had clusters of small, almost peddle sized eyes that were black as night taking up it’s entire face.

That wasn’t all, when the creature opened it’s mouth -if Tomas could even call it that- it’s stomach would rip open just as a thousand pair of what could only be described as human hands emerged out from said stomach, palms laying flat on the floor, as they began to shuffle across the floor in search of something. One particular pair of hands almost came into contact with Tomas’ foot, almost making him scream, but upon realising that their search efforts bore no fruit, the hands then retracted back into the creatures stomach, where it would then close itself up as though someone had just zipped it shut from the inside, before moving towards a different part of the room.

Scared out of his wits, Tomas bolted out of the room, completely forgetting what he had originally went there for, and just ran as fast as he could. He ran even when his legs began to hurt, he ran even when his lungs were begging for breath and he ran even when he had all but forgotten why he was even running in the first place. Tomas didn’t stop running until he saw you heading towards him, his brothers probably sent you to see what was taking him so long, and without a second thought; Tomas held you in his arms tightly, burying his head deep into your neck as he whispered.

‘How can you bare to seeing these things on a daily basis.’ The image of that thing was forcefully seared into Tomas’ mind, haunting him forever.

You didn’t have to ask further details as to what it was that he saw and instead reciprocated his hug, stroking the hairs at the back of his neck reassuringly, whilst pressing kisses into the side of his head where your would then rest your cheek against. ‘I don’t.’ You replied, looking straight ahead at the creature just as it poked it’s head out of the door, staring at you with all of their small beady black eyes before slinking off into the room across through the wall.

Kuai Liang

Concerned was a word that was often used to describe what Kuai Liang felt whenever you would shuffle closer towards his back, you might as well have been hiding, when passing down a particular hallway as your eyes were focused forward. Almost as though you were avoiding looking at something you didn’t like by pretending it didn’t exist.

Kuai Liang was aware of your uncanny ability to see the dead as you did the living, it was one of the things you disclosed to him upon first meeting, and even recalled the stories you’d tell him regarding the kinds of ghosts you’ve come across. Upon further questioning as to what they looked like you told Kuai Liang that most were human or humanoid in figure, but others went beyond the realm of human comprehension.

The latter of the two kinds were the ones you tended to avoid having direct contact with the most and this most recent one was no different.

‘Is it them, my love?’ Kuai Liang asked, looking over his shoulder at you worriedly.

You hummed. ‘They’re always with us, following but they most like to stay here and watch everyone who passes by.’

Kuai Liang pursed his lips at this new tidbit of information, whilst concerning learning this was, he was concerned about was getting you out of this hallway a lot more. Just as he was reaching back to grab your hand, Kuai Liang caught slight movement from out of the corner of his eye but before you could say anything, his eyes were already locked onto the other side of the hallway; more specifically the area you purposefully avoid looking towards every time you have to come down this hallway.

Kuai Liang remembered you telling him that It shouldn’t be possible for him see what you see, but it wasn’t uncommon for ghost to become temporarily visible. So with that in mind Kuai Liang could only deduct that what he was seeing before him what you regarded as a type two ghost; In all honesty the word ghost didn’t quite seem to match what he was currently seeing.

The creature in question was about his height, maybe a little shorter, then again he wasn’t quite sure considering it was sort of slouched. It appeared human enough in its physique, but something deep inside Kuai Liang told him that what was standing before him was far from human. He just couldn’t escape this deeply unsettling feeling that continued to grown within his chest the longer he continued to look. A sharp snapping sort of sound caught his ear, and in an instant his senses sharpened as Kuai Liang watched to see the creature viciously attempting in tearing it’s own face off with it’s hands that were infused with needles, as though desperate to get it off, to reveal…a smooth porcelain like mask beneath shredded and stringy bits of it’s former face.

As if watching that wasn’t enough the lower half of the smooth porcelain mask began to crack, a jagged fissure spread from one end to another like it was forming itself a mouth but once it had finished, the crack like mouth then began to open to reveal an endlessly dark void beneath and just before it could even think to speak; you quickly grabbed Kuai Liang’s hand and pulled him down the hallway until you were a safe distance from the creature. You could tell that seeing something like that had gotten to Kuai Liang, even if it was by a little margin.

‘Are you okay?’ You asked, squeezing his hand.

‘I fear for you little flame.’ Kuai Liang admitted. ‘Your gift for seeing these things, I worry that it will plunge you into the darkest depth that not even my fire would be nearly enough to guide you out safely.’ You smiled sympathetically at his concern. ‘As long as I don’t acknowledge them or give them a line of communication, then there’s nothing to worry about.’ You reassured him but you could tell that it wasn’t enough with the way his brows furrowed deeper with worry. ‘Doesn’t mean that I wont still worry about you.’ He utters, tightening his grip on your hand, afraid to let go.

‘I’m not expecting you to because no matter what I know you’ll always worry about me but I promise when I tell you that no harm can come to me if I don’t incite it. I’ve lived with this my entire life, all I ask of you is to trust me.’ You practically begged as you stared Kuai Liang deep into his eyes and watched as he sighed before pressing his head against your own. ‘I trust you with my life, little flame.’ He says in a hushed whisper. ‘However it’s within my duty to protect you from all harm, living or not.’ You smiled at his warm words, closing your eyes as you learnt in towards his natural warmth.

‘Then at least let me protect you from time to time.’ You cheeked, causing Kuai Liang to let out a deep chuckle as he pressed a little kiss to your lips. ‘I won’t make any promises.’ He cheeked.

Bi-Han

Now Bi-Han wouldn’t say he whether he did or didn’t believe in ghosts, but even if he did he wouldn’t be one to actively try to prove their existence. He was the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he had no time for such childish ridiculousness, not when there were more pressing matters that were more worthy of his time and effort anyway.

However when you first told him that you could see ghosts, Bi-Han didn’t know what to make of it, he’s not one to discredit your abilities in anyway shape or form. He’s not like Tomas who watches one too many horror movies and starts flinching at every subtle creak or groan of the floorboards. Yet that doesn’t mean he didn’t find your power intriguing because after all Bi-Han is a man who strives to know more, he strives for knowledge and so he would take this opportunity to fully understand how exactly your power works.

He even takes note how you purposefully ignore an area with everything you had, keeping your head down or eyes facing forward whenever you had to go anywhere near it, coming out of the room with a straight face as though you weren’t fazed but Bi-Han was well trained in knowing when his intended target was lying and or on edge. Upon asking why you were avoiding that specific part of the Lin Kuei, he took in everything you told him about the ghost that you encountered, engraving every last detail it into his head as to paint himself a picture, but even then Bi-Han doesn’t think it remotely resembles the creature that you saw.

Never did he think that he would ever see it for himself but one day he did indeed find himself staring into the unsettlingly large, bulging eyes of the creature as it breathed heavily, as though it was severely out of breath and was just now recovering. It was about half his size and had hair covering everywhere…well except its midsection, which was all just leathery skin that rose and fell with its breathing pattern. It’s hands were human but everything else about it wasn’t, it had lost it’s lower mouth, leaving only it’s top row of sharp teeth; making the question of how it could possibly eat or consume anything to Bi-Han’s morbid curiosity.

The creature then proceeded to close the distance between the two of them and all Bi-Han could smell was death, blood and rotting flesh but he wasn’t fazed. He was aware of what the creature was doing and wasn’t about to give it the reaction it so desperately wanted, he was above these childish attempts of intimidation; So in retaliation Bi-Han only narrowed his eyes, presenting himself in a way that told the creature that he could see what it was doing and that he was above such tactics. He could see why you’d avoid looking upon these things, they could send a weaker minded person to the brink of insanity upon first glance, but Bi-Han was made of much tougher material to succumb to such.

The creature backed of, finding no enjoyment in this at all, and left the room through the wall on all fours for much weaker prey, looking like some dog with a sever case of mange.

Later that day where you and Bi-Han were settling down for the night, Bi-Han then decided to admit to what he saw prior, not liking to keep such things from you especially when it’s in regards to your powers. ‘I saw it.’ He said point blank as he stroked your back and it took you a moment to realise what he had meant by that before a look of realisation spread across your face. ‘You did? I thought that wasn’t possible.’ You replied.

‘It was only a glimpse but what I saw, I saw it as clear as I see anything else.’ Bi-Han told you, wondering how it was that you could keep your psyche intact when seeing such vile creatures on a daily basis. He even wondered if you’ve seen some that were even more grotesque then the one he had encountered earlier.

‘Not exactly a pleasant sight are they?’ You joked, looking at him with a small smile, knowing firsthand how unnerving it was to know that such things could possibly exist, even though you did finally mange to find a routine you had followed religiously in the events where you did happen to encounter them. Unfortunately It never truly gets rid of your first experience with seeing them for the first time, firmly believing that you were going to die due to how horrific and fear inducing they were.

‘No, I’m guessing that I’m right in assuming that this one pales in comparison to others you’ve had the misfortune of seeing?’ Bi-Han asked, watching your every expression like a that of a hawk. ‘Way worse.’ You responded as you snuggle yourself deeper into his chest, closing your eyes to avoid looking at the glowing pair of eyes that peered into yours and Bi-Han’s room.

[eatmycodbetty]

{You again?}

part one! . . . two. . three

pairing: anthony lockwood x gn!reader

word count: 5.3k

summary: As a former Fittes agent, you have honed your craft well on your own. You would never expect an old friend to call you, nor would you ever expect to be so curious about this so-called agency he’s in.

notes: it has been a longggg time since i’ve written ff and i understand that this is a dying fandom, but here are the goodies. shout out to my two weird friends for pushing me to do this. tell me any critiques!! i wanna get better :)

One . . .

4:23am. The North Bank, London.

Silence.

Then…ringing?

The void of noise, of air. It swirls around you and suffocates. 

You feel nothing other than your heart beating, the wind knocked out of your lungs. The pounding in your ears only resurfacing once the ringing stops. You are running. You can’t remember from what, all that matters is that you get out. 

As the pounding starts to subside and the air comes back to you, the shouts from fellow agents bite at your senses. Nothing but “Run!”...and that is what you are doing, so the voices blur back out to focus on your feet. You have a gnawing pain growing there as you keep going, almost numb from your shitty stiff soled shoes.

This has to end soon. You have to stop at some point...right?

Suddenly, a door appears in your rushed view, slightly ajar at the end of a hallway you've hastily turned down. Finally, you think, an end to this bad dream.

As you near the small wooden door, you let your hand fall on the edge of the opening, being able to catch some oxygen and breathe it once more. However, the door turns almost to ice- you freeze.

Just being able to lift your hand off the door, a horrible gelatinous face appears through the handle, pushing you backward in a cold force. You hit the ground with a thud, and the air is yet again gone from your lungs.

Right. Now you remember. You were sent to investigate an old and dilapidated flat by the Thames. Something strange considering the location, the water should have warded off anything too strong.

You were wrong, the whole lot of you were. Something much more sinister resided deep within the floorboards of this rank building.

Your team is dispersed, and you have no knowledge of how they are faring. All you remember right now is that you turned a corner and had to run, nothing else to aid your cause as a Type Two spirit had you in its vicious sights.

Malaise setting in, you found yourself running with anything you had left, being drained as you try and fight your way out of this bloody shitshow.

But...now you’re locked. You can’t move, you can’t look away. The figure melts through the door, like thick, murky water. There appears an apparition of a man, jaw stretched so far down you can't bear to look- but you're forced to. His sunken eyes have you gripped in some horrifying way. It seems that even if you weren't being ghost-locked, you would freeze under the sheer terror that is inflicted upon his gaze.

How idiotic, you think in this moment, assuming you could outrun a Type Two with all of your supplies, everything, out of your reach. Now you are here, laying back on the ground as a Visitor forces you into a ghost-lock. You feel a stone on your chest, like the dreadful ghost itself is standing on your body, forcing your consciousness into submission.

Then...a kind of peace wavers over you. Although, the air leaving your lungs leaves a part of your active brain scrambling to get away from something impossible. Wavering dangerously close to calm, your body is giving up. Weak, you finally quiet the active part of your brain as the lock is settling in nicely- a solemn goodbye. . .

. . . then, a snap.

A flash appears before you.

You feel a hard tug on your body- then you're suddenly sitting up, feeling so dizzy you could faint. Your vision blurs as you get a hard punch of air back in your lungs and start to feel the cold of the hallway. You’re being pulled up on your feet now, being able to hear the familiar ringing in your ears again, followed by the pounding.

As your focus finally settles, you are face to face with Kat, one of your teammates. She gives you a hard smack across the cheek as she's trying to talk to you, but you can only hear mumbling. You wipe your face and as you look at her again, your hearing starts to seep back in.

But, before you have the chance to fully regain your senses, she pulls you away from the hallway. Feeling your feet, you stop stumbling after a few seconds as another wind hits you, and you’re back. 

You two eventually find a window, the frame broken and glass crumbling. This has to do. Before Kat can get something to bust it out, you're kicking it out. You do it rather messily, however, as your pantleg is torn up by the glass and new scars are made along your right leg. You can't feel much of the bleeding, but you can see its residual on the moldy window frame through your hasty kicks.

When it is broken enough for you two to slip through it, you gauge what floor you're on- the second. It isn't that far down, and you see a large, open rubbish bin with various bits of bags and a half termite-eaten mattress. You two look at each other, then you jump.

A loud metal pumph sound, then pain. You can feel better now, the air from the outside making you regain more of yourself. Despite that, you landed bad, and you can't be sure that you didn't break something from that fall. You look over, and Kat is starting to leap over the side of the bin, hand clutching her ribcage as she falls over the other side. You find some abominable strength from inside you to push up on a rotting box and climb over the bin, falling on the other side soon after Kat does.

Sitting up in some dingy patch of grass, you find yourself towards the back of the flat, facing the Thames. The sun is starting to rise, but only enough to disturb the deep black of the night sky. You two are on the ground, but by helping each other up you eventually stand. You feel a twinge of pain in your torn up leg as you put your weight on it finally. Something worse must have happened to it in the fall, but you can't focus on that now.

You both rush (hobble) to the front of the flat, and as you turn the corner you see only one other agent back. As your vision settles and you call out, you see it's Bobby, your researcher. You are almost relieved, but by the look on his face at you two and the nervous looks he gives the building, something is desperately wrong. As you catch up to him, you quickly realize that the two other agents in your team are missing.  

You take a deep breath in, mostly cognizant again as the malaise seeps out of your body. Instantaneously you take a shaky stride towards the front of the house, ignoring the shouts to stop from the two behind you. As you reach the cracked front step, a tottering figure suddenly stumbles out of the doors, holding something.

You ready yourself, not prepared to go out without a fight. But, this isn't a ghost...you then suddenly relax your fighting stance at seeing your leader, Quill Kipps.

Kipps is holding one of the new recruits, sent with your group by your supervisor, on his shoulder. There's a pause as he takes what seems to be his first breath, and you all realize the event unfolding in front of you.

He then suddenly staggers down the steps and sets the kid down a good ways from the front door in front of the three of you. He stands back up and runs a shaky hand over his neck. He is bleeding, bruised, and looks like he also went through the same kind of hell. The kid, however, is still. His eyes pasty and spread open, staring at the fleeting stars. Kipps finally speaks, but almost in a hush.

“He’s locked.”

Silence fills the night air once again, and you all hang your heads and rush to help the two boys. Whispering curses as you quickly realize the young boy is too far gone. Then, away from the madness, you and Kipps lock eyes. He is terrified.

Placing hands on each other's shoulders as the other two call aid, you stumble to the ground. Whilst the numbness from the adrenaline starts to drain away, the pain in your leg, in your body, and in your mind, is all too much to bear to keep standing. He seems to feel the same, and you two just lie there on the pavement. As the sirens whirl, you both watch the sunrise light up the stars, observing how they fade with the coming light.

Then, exhaustion finally takes you over and all that’s left 

is darkness.

2 Years Later. Saturday morning. Your flat.

Working by yourself has its perks. Sure, it could be better with some help, but you don’t ever peck above your grade. Besides, a lot of normal, everyday people have issues with spirits that don’t have the means or time to go through a real agency.

You enjoy these smaller cases anyways, it feels more relevant and actually helpful than the expensive cases you pursued at Fittes. You have also grown your connections by a substantial margin. You know all of London better in these two years than you ever did during your almost 8 years at that blasted organization.

Growing a kind of reputation for closing a plethora of ghost cases by yourself, you are rivaling even Fittes and Rotwell in numbers. Agents like to jeer at you when you make your presence at certain events for higher agents. It could be from jealousy or intimidation, yet either way you don’t tend to care because you suit your occupation just fine. They would be less inclined to detest you if they could get out of their own pretentious skulls and use their Talent to the fullest whilst they still have time. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself.

Your flat could be better, but for someone who doesn’t need much or occupy much space, a one bedroom works out just fine. It is much better than living around snobby arseholes like every other agent. You would rather move the country than have to do that ever again, to have to go back to that place.

As you're thinking about this, you start to stir in your bed. Waking up has always been a bit hard, but you've found a good routine. Before you can even open your eyes, you feel the sunlight from between the curtain shades peeking out and dazzling your bedsheets.

You finally open your eyes, taking in the same room you've seen for the past two years. It is kind of comforting, or claustrophobic, either way- it's home. It's decorated with bits and bobs from your travels and time spent over your almost 17 years of life. You see old family portraits and pictures with old friends- stuff that makes you a bit teary if you think about it for too long.

Which is great, because you are immediately distracted and tuned into a certain buzzing on the other side of the room. As you wake up a bit more quickly, you sit up and find that it's your telephone ringing.

Oh no...what time is it? You quickly check the clock beside your bed, only 10:38am.

You sigh and start to get up, chasing the phone before it hangs up. You cannot miss a call from any potential clients, it's been a bit slow recently as other agencies have caught onto your tactic for gaining clients. Pricks.

You pick up the phone, barely being able to utter a "Hello, this i-" before a boy begins to yell at you on the other side of the line.

“Y/N!! I saw you in a small clipping in the back of the paper, I can’t believe it! A solo agent?? Oh wait.. sorry for the intrusion...and the yelling. It's George by the way.”

You pause for a moment, confused as to which George in your life might know you and nevertheless YELL at you after not speaking for so long. You think for two seconds until it hits you.

It's George Karim, a smart boy you knew from Fitts who got fired on biased and unfair grounds, you were one of the only people to defend him. You two were kind of inseparable at some point, so you reply with haste in a similar overly-friendly manner.

“GEORGE KARIM!! It’s been so long...you startled me.” You tiredly laugh. “Also don’t apologize, you are always welcome to call me whenever. What’s up mate? How have the years been to you?”

You rub your crusty eyes and smile lightly as it settles in that you still do have one friend from Fittes. It’s easy to get lost in everything bad that came from there. On the other end, you hear some yelling and...things being thrown? He gives a small sigh, then a hesitation before continuing.

“I’ll get straight to the point. You should come over for tea. Today, preferably. I’ve been working with a smaller agency that I think you would work well with. I’ll let you know why when you get here, I’m afraid I must go. Does half past one sound alright?”

You snicker a little, missing his awkward tangents, but also a bit uncomfortable with what chaos you hear on the other line. Wait.. “What agency? And tea sounds just fine then, but what cafe should we go to? The same one next to that fountain on Clermont?” You find yourself reminiscing on your younger exploits, you two certainly shared some fond memories before he left.

He pipes back up, now more hurriedly, “No, no. You should come here. Lockwood & Co on 35 Portland Ro-”

You are so surprised you cut the poor boy off in an almost shout, “LOCKWOOD?? George I-”

He cuts you off with a quick, “OKAY BYE SEE YOU THEN!”.

You’re left with the sound of a dead line as he hangs up. Sighing, you put your phone back on the wall and lean against the wall, still weak from waking up so suddenly and pondering the new day that has been spread for you.

There is no way that George left to work for Anthony Lockwood of all people. You didn’t actually know the guy personally, only heard rumors and quips from Kipps.

From what you’ve gathered over the years, he’s an egotistical geezer that fits right in with the rest of those types at Fittes. Yet...his one thing is that he hates them just the same as you. And they hate him, or rather they did when you were there.

As much as you have a kind of disdain for those kinds of men, you trust George. And you also were going to spend this Saturday doing absolutely nothing, so you technically have no excuse.

You check the time. Quarter past 10. You push back on your feet and make your way to your dresser to get ready for the day. He said it was 35 Portland Row right? That's just a little ways down a few blocks.

“...It can’t hurt” you mutter as you pick up a comfortable and clean sweater. You get dressed and make sure you have your errands list ready. Grabbing your rapier as you head out the door, you stop for a second and ponder on the situation. Why did George Karim of all people call you? This can't just be to hang out, he's too weird to be so forward like that normally.

Whatever, you think. You lock up the flat and start to head out for whatever this day may bring. One final thought crosses your mind as you shift out of the building,

"I can't believe I am visiting another fucking agency."

1:25pm. 35 Portland Row. Still Saturday.

You've been staring at this house for about a minute now. It's nicer than expected, but also smaller than you might have thought. For as much as you have heard about Lockwood & Co, you would expect a headquarters that's kind of...well...greater.

You finally give a hearty knock on the door.

...Nothing.

You think for a second, you don't want to disturb a neighbor so you check to make sure you're at the right place- and you are. You take a quick sigh and go to knock on the door again, but your hand hesitates. Is that...yelling?

You hear things being knocked over, running, people shouting. Your heart tenses as you think of the possibilities of either an intruder or some insane ghost mishap occurring on the other side, and you quickly reach for your rapier.

But then suddenly, the door opens with a gust of wind and you welcome the sight of a seemingly safe, slightly older, George Karim. He looks kind of swept up, it seems whatever made him hang up this morning is still going on. Your sigh of relief is met with his welcome.

“Y/N! You’re early.” He smiles meekly and steps aside in the doorway. “Please ignore the mess, we’re not always living in a barn...it’s been a rough day.” Wearing an orange hoodie and some joggers, he really hasn’t changed that much.

He shies away from your curious gaze, which he seems to read as more judgmental. You smile at the boy and take your hand off the rapier to put it on his arm, giving it a soft squeeze. “George, I’ve known you for most of my short life. I could care less about the state of your house.” You stifle a laugh, “I’ve seen your room before, nothing scares me.”

He looks back and meets your eyes now, a smile creeping back onto his face. “I’m glad you’re here, y/n..”, he gestures into the hectic house, “..but please come inside and watch your step, it’s a circus in this place.”

He moves a bit more as you shuffle inside, moving quickly to shut and lock the door behind you. Before he's done, you take in the sight of the house for a few seconds. You spot a shorter girl with medium length brown hair and a blue sweater running down the stairs and into a distant room, yelling about something you can barely make out. Just as she leaves and George comes to lead you away from it, a taller, slender boy in a suit makes the opposite strides from a far room up the stairs, also yelling?

George is on your right now, patting your arm to follow him. "I told you to ignore the circus, y/n, come on through here."

You shudder your head to focus on George, now leading you into a sunny kitchenette, somehow untouched by the storm in the other rooms. It's a quaint area, like people live here quite comfortably. It's nice. Sunlight stretches across the windows and reaches just to the back edge of a small dining table.

You notice the sharpie sketches on the table cloth. Three distinct figures...maybe more...are depicted. You can see the one that is meant to be George, a figure with glasses and notes about being nerdy and complaining. Yup, has to be him. Along with the George stick figure is a boy in a suit, a girl with short hair- maybe the two you just saw?- and then two other names mentioned here and there- Holly and Flo. Must be associates, their names aren't much mentioned.

As you analyze the table cloth, George comes back with two cups. "Please actually sit, y/n, you don't have to stand like you don't know me- do I have to remind you of our preteens? I could blackmail you into anything at this point."

You laugh and act offended, sitting at the table. "I can't believe you would ever use my childlike wonder against me, G." You put a dramatic hand to your forehead, peeking to see him roll his eyes as you two share a chuckle. As you put your hand down you remind him, "Besides...who would you even share it with. You're like my only friend now you tart."

He nods in thinking, setting the two cups down. "I mean you're in my home with my agency sooooo~" You try to grab him as he laughs and narrowly evades a fake punch, "I'm kidding! Just kidding." He laughs and grabs a small pot. "Before you kill me you want only one sugar right."

You sit back in the chair and respond, "Yes! Wait how did you remember that?"

He sits down across from you and dips a cube into your cup. "You really haven't changed that much...I was worried you'd be a bit more annoyingly stoic after you left and started to work on your own." As he sets the sugar back down, you take the tea, starting to stir with growing curiosity to his thinking. "George. Karim. You've known me since I was like 9 years old. Who could ever make you think I'd be that different, huh?" you quip. You inhale the tea and blow just a small bit before taking a sip, perfect.

He takes his own teaspoon and stirs around the cup, thinking, before he looks back up to you with the cup in his hand. "People tend to do that. It happens- I don't know. I mean right now I can think of a person or two that can be rather...neurotic." You snort, "More than you??"

His face drops to his usual sarcastic sneer, jaw kind of dropped to feign shock with a scoff. "As a matter of fact yes, y/n. Oh I am sure you and Lockwood would get along great." He sneers at you, his voice laced with a hidden joke.

That damned guy again. Why does George give the same impression of Lockwood that others have in the past? Isn't that his literal boss? You respond, more withdrawn than the previous jests, "...Well then. Until that happens I am sure you're fine company- with all of your neuroticism." You start to snort but stop, opting to pick up your cup again. You stop for a second as you do this, taking a breath and continuing, "Why did you call me here, George. What's really going on."

As you take your sip he stares, only a small bit hesitant to begin this conversation. “So this is my new agency. I don’t know what you’ve heard about Lockwood & Co. from arseholes at Fittes but I can guarantee I wouldn’t be here if any of those were true.” He takes a short breath, sipping on his tea as if he couldn't wait to get that statement out.

You respond, picking up on his nerves. He really does care, not just about your potential judgement but his team. “I would mind more if Lockwood was someone I knew…but to be very honest I have only heard rumors. I trust your judgement George, you’re one of the few left with a good head on their shoulders- including me of course.”

You go to take a sip. He brightens at this response and goes to speak, but you cut him off. “But! I can still exercise caution. You of anyone should understand the issue with trusting other agents these days. Especially in their expertise.” You take the sip.

He sighs, but an understanding look softens his features. “I get it y/n, but this is why I called you. You told me yourself to get in contact if I ever needed a hand whenever I was thrown out, and now we need a hand more than ever” You nod, and he continues, picking up his face as he explains.

“It’s only a few of us. I do research. Holly Munro is our new assistant, but she’s in and out. Right now she’s out because we don’t have too much to deal with, so it's only 3 of us in the house.” One of the lesser mentioned names on the table cloth. You turn to look at her little stick figure portrait before responding.

Turning your brow, “Right...because not too much still entails turning the house over…” you prod.

He ignores you and continues, “Lucy Carlyle has an incredible Talent for Listening, and she’s strong in the field. You two would get along.” He has a smile attached to the end of this statement.

You turn your nose up inquisitively, “I’d like to meet her,” and just as you finish speaking, the same girl in the blue sweatshirt from earlier comes busting through the other door.

“GEORGE!” She shouts as she almost slips on the way to the table.

He sighs and turns, telling you ‘one sec’ with a roll of his eyes. “What, Luce.”

“We still can’t find th-”

She stops for a second once she reaches the table, realizing the stranger in the room. She straightens her sweater and quickly holds out her hand for you, her movements fastened with hesitance. “Hi. I’m Lucy. George’s friend.” You take it as she leans to George, “…is this the old colleague you-”

He cuts her off with a hushed and agitated, “YES.” This new girl, Lucy, seems to be a bit standoffish or shy. She talks like she's trying to keep you at a distance, but you can notice the fact that she is actively trying to be polite and welcoming for George's sake. They must have spoken about you beforehand, you shy away at the thought.

She smiles out of formality as she waits for your response. “Nice to meet you Ms. Carlyle, my name is Y/n L/n. I've just heard great things from George. What can’t you find..?”

She thinks for less than a second before she’s back in her hurry, turning to George again. “OH! We still can’t find it, we’re going out tonight to see if one of us dropped it.”

He withholds a panic, simply nodding, “Fine, but…do I have to go..” he complains. You notice a new cut on his eyebrow, and a patch on his hand- something you didn't have time to notice beforehand. Remnants from recent battle, you assume from the conversation.

“If you think for a second we’re leaving behind our eyes then you’re better off working the Tesco down the road.” He scoffs and agrees as she is whisked back out the door, yelling a hurried “Nice to meet you Mx. l/n!”. Then with a shaky thud she exits back to the flurry in the other part of the house.

“Sorry about that, we’re all a little stressed right now...obviously." He huffs in annoyance as he ends the sentence, thinking on something distant.

You speak up, “yeah..is this why you called me?” You glance out towards where the girl had left, wanting to know what is happening behind those doors.

He takes his tea again, “Yeah.. I couldn’t think of a more qualified person to help us. We have been getting stronger and stronger cases, and without some sort of saving grace we barely make it out alive each time. I just want us to have the reassurance of a trusted and skilled agent when we go on these higher risk contracts.”

You nod and take a large sip, seemingly startling the boy who ended up staring at his cup. “I’m in. Not in the company or anything, but I could use the money and being hired help isn’t too bad- I'll even stake out if you need it.”

He gleams, standing up and extending his hand, “We only need you on call for certain nights. If you keep those nights free so that I can contact you if anything goes to shite, that would mean the world.”

You shake his hand, “It’s a deal then, do I need to meet your boss or-”

He shuts you off, “oh no, Lockwood doesn’t really know that we’re hiring some peace of mind. He kind of insists that we don’t because of his pompous thick skull, but Luce and I agreed that it would be safer. He knows you’re over and-” then doing his best posh impression, “-a friend of George’s is a friend of mine.”

You both chuckle into the table, something tells you that Lockwood is a real treat of a person. A fanciful trio, from what you can gather. You pipe back, “Well it isn’t the first time we’ve done some undercover work. When do you need me first?”

He sinks back into the chair, delighted, “Well, apparently we might need you tonight…if that’s okay. We lost a potential source at a hotspot in the middle of a park. There was a nasty cluster and I guess it just sort of slipped when we were escaping. If you can’t that's okay I-”

You cut the boy off excitedly, “That’s fine! I have nothing to do for the rest of the week. Somehow, I think the higher agencies are trying to steal my cases. They're appealing to lower classes in ways I have never seen, and I get less and less calls as the days drone on. I can never escape those dicks, huh.” You scoff and sit back down, setting a reminder on your phone as you two discuss the details of the reconnaissance mission.

He stops the planning to reply, “If it makes you feel any better, you are still considered a saint for the locals right now. We’ve heard you mentioned a few times in our own contracts. Fittes’ pedestal might be crumbling from your work over the past year or so. Keep making them scared. You've got our support.”

You smile at each other warmly as you set down your teacups in the sink and both go back to the front door. The house seems quieter, and you secretly hope you could have some more time to meet his new colleagues. They don't seem horrible, just interesting characters. You can handle that.

As you are saying your goodbyes, smiles and laughs abound between the old friendly pair, you catch a figure in the staircase. For a moment you smile lightly at the slender boy out of formality, and you seem to think he starts to smile back.

But, just as quickly you’re now out the door and heading back to your own flat. You find one standout emotion whilst walking out the door and back to your place. Excitement.

11:28pm. Your Flat.

Tying the final knot around the stalks, you stand on the edge of your bed to hang a fresh bundle of lavender on your window. You climb back down to check your phone, still no call.

The silver blade from your aunt lies next to your go-bag, and you sit in your room in comfortable underclothes, your work outfit folded next to the supplies and ready for a quick leave.

You do worry for George, whether you would like to admit it or not, but you’ve always been like that. He was one of the only people there for you as a person, not just as an agent.

You used to have shared bracelets, labeled as the “Ghost Siblings”, a snide remark from a former teammate turned point of pride. Somewhere between the two of you leaving you lost touch, but it was nice to see the sentiment never left.

RING RING RING

You almost jump out of your skin as your telephone rings, disrupting your thoughts. You answer it immediately, putting it on a kind of speaker as you hurry away from it, starting to button up your shirt.

George sounds sort of breathless, but hushed on the other end. “Hey y/n, I was right. Be quick!-"

He hangs up, or rather something happens to make him hang up. Your heart starts to race, it doesn’t matter if it is down the block- what if you don’t make it?

You’re out the door as soon as you get your shirt on, barely grabbing your supplies as you lock your door.

What did they get themselves into?

~fin~

I hope you all enjoyed this!! There is MUCH MORE coming, hopefully soon,,, thank u for reading <3

EDIT: This chapter has been edited to clear it of any stupid mistakes and lulls that appeared bc I made this at 3am. toodles! - ives :p

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part three

part four: say the one thing i've been wanting

Steve had been dreading actually talking about this with Robin. He hadn't wanted to put her in a position to feel like she had to come out or stop using him as a plus one to industry parties to fuel rumors. Even as he and Eddie pretty publicly dated Robin's agent and most tabloids still thought Robin and Steve were a couple some even going as far as insinuating Eddie was Steve's side piece or their third.

"Steve, you're kind of scaring me, what's going on?"

"Birdie, I'm only telling you this because I can't not anymore but I want you to know nothing is your fault and I literally don't need you to do anything. I just need to be able to talk to my best friend and in order to do that I kind of have to get through this uncomfortable part," Steve answered.

"Anything, Steve. Whatever you need," Robin said.

"Okay, so Eddie and I kind of broke up because Eddie assumed I was cheating on him with Nance when she came to visit earlier this year. He got really upset and kind of blocked me from any way of contacting him so there was no way to clear anything up after he left but he definitely assumed I was cheating on him and he wrote that fucking song and I just need to talk to you without leaving out this really huge massive reason why Eddie left and why I still feel like total shit," Steve rushed to cover the main points.

"Steve, hun," Nance comforted. She probably guessed something else was going on but had been understanding enough not to press Steve for more.

"Steve, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Robin started catastrophizing.

"Can you please stop saying my name. It's kind of freaking me out," Steve joked, "Robs, it's totally not your fault at all. It was a shitty situation I could have handled better and so could Eddie but there's really nothing to do about it know because I can't explain it to him and he clearly doesn't want me to so we are moving on, all right?" Steve attempted to keep the energy light.

"If that's what you want, sure babe," Robin said.

"I just want to stop going down Tik Tok rabbit holes of Eddie's stupid song without being able to complain to you about how fucking tired I am of not being able to do anything," Steve said, "and also I want so much ice cream and a really stupid TV marathon with my best girls and maybe roast Eddie's new song a little bit."

Nancy had already pulled up doordash and they were soon on their way to eating a smorgasbord of snacks and ice cream while watching reality TV and eventually dissolving into a karaoke session initially overdramatically singing along to Eddie's new single and ending with some old school Taylor (her version of course). Steve was feeling better than he had in a long time and started getting out of the fog he'd been in since Eddie had left.

Eventually, Steve started answering his agent's emails again and submitting tape for different roles. He'd gotten a part in a small indie film in Italy and Steve was pretty ready to take it. It was an interesting part, it was literally away from everyone he knew, the director was kind of weird and didn't let his cast use socials while filming and encouraged only phone calls and old school letters to really get into the period mindset. It was honestly kind of a perfect next project and it helped that the script was actually kind of great.

"As long as you aren't going because you're running away, Steve. You know I don't want you to leave and you shouldn't feel like you have to," Robin said as he was starting to pack his bags.

"I really like the project. It's a good script and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Kind of perfect honestly. The shoot is pretty short its only like four weeks so I won't be gone that long and you and Nancy can keep holing up in my apartment without me getting in the way!" Steve answered.

"You're never in the way, dingus," Robin nudged him and then brought him into a hug, "we'll just miss you kiddo."

"I'll miss you too, Bobbie. Now let me go so I can pack." Steve pulled away with a bigger smile than he'd had in weeks.

part five

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

[deadghosy]

"Have you always been so damn ugly?"

"Hahaha...Fuck you."

PLATONIC ALASTOR X GN!READER

Warning: bit of a small oc.

YOU SIGHED LAYING on your bed tired like always as your counterpart, Neno is beside you purring. His black shadowy body hold you as you face the ceiling. It's not like you are a depressed person who has no social energy battery and stay in your room not wanting to talk to people. Of course you totally aren't like that...

You heard a static noise outside your door, you narrow your eyes seeing a red glow outside your door. "What the fuck..." you say to yourself seeing the glow. Neno opens his white glowing eyes as he lets go of your body and moves swiftly to the door. It seems like he know who it is as you get off your bed and open the door.  And there he is, the radio demon who smiles down at you.

"Why hello my shadowy fellow/madam!" He says entering your room as you tried to protest him entering. "Well this won't do!" He pulls open your curtain windows to let the light in. Neno hisses going into your shadow as your eyebags show. Alastor smiles that shit eating grin as he sits on your bed. "Well? Why don't you sit down my dear friend, we got things to discuss!" You just stand there side eyeing him.

"Have you always been so damn ugly?" Is what you said that came into your mind.

"Hahaha...Fuck you." Alastor says staring at you waving got you to sit with him.

No way in hell are you talking to the radio demon.

—

AND HERE YOU are ranting about how shitty your morning went about how you felt like shit and how you felt no motivation or feelings at all. Alastor just stares and nod with a smile listening to you. You don't even know why you are actually venting to him about. Sometimes with yourself, you have these weird feelings where you can't feel anything but you aren't depressed. You just can't understand some things really.

Alastor stops you from going into deep context as he smiles thinking of something. "Why don't we go for a walk my dear friend!" He says enthusiastic. You just stare at him with a blank stare...."I'm not your frie-" Alastor snaps his fingers as he has you in an outfit that seems a bit old timey. Kinda seems off the way you dressed back in the 2000's but you liked the color palette it has.

Your hair looked better as you smile looking at Neno who gave you a thumbs up with Alastor and his own shadow counterpart. "Okay! Not bad old man." "I am not an old man" he says with a slight twitch in his eye. "Whatever man" you say chuckling softly at him. Next thing you know you go picked up onto alastor's shoulder with a blank confused face as he takes you out your room.

"Now let's go on an adventure. Can't let you rot in your room like some kind of corpse dear!"

—

YOU "WALKED" around pentagram city still on alastor's shoulder as he hums a tune while you just sat there in his shoulder like a little kid leaving sea world/ Disney world with their father.

"Where are we even going Alastor...."

"Somewhere~" he said in a song tune way.

You just sighed as he wasn't even giving you a straight answer. You felt a "bling" in your pocket. That must be your hell phone. You looked at it to see the contact, "BIG BOSS🔥" calling you. You answer him hearing a bunch of quacks and tools hitting the ground.

"Heyyyyy....ducklinggg" you heard Lucifer says awkwardly. "Hello. Sir." You said flatly. Lucifer's silly smile faltered hearing your flat tone as he sighs.

"Listen I'm sorry I didn't order you right the things for you. I was busy." You heard another quack and a squeak.

"Busy making a doll house for your ducks?"

".....low blow but I can send you your favorite pastry!" He says excitedly on his end of the phone.

You stayed quiet this time but smile showing your sharp teeth, "sure man. I'll forgive you." "FANTASTIC! I'll see you in 2 hours!"

"Wait wh-" and the phone hang up.

Why the hell he said he was gonna order them to you, but come in person...

—

NOW YOU WERE confused even more as you reach a part of town you didn't even know. Alastor smiles as you see demons with black eyes like those were cartoons you use to watch back then. But the town seems lovely and lively as you see a person giving out cotton candy.

Your eyes light up, catching the taller male's attention as he smirks turning his walking direction to the cotton candy stand.

"Hello mister, I would like one cotton candy for the little lady/fellow on my beloved shoulder." Alastor said as you felt embarrassed by how some people watched you as you fidget with your fingers. The man nods with a sharp teethed smile and gave Alastor, who gives you your cotton candy.

You smile awkwardly taking the cotton candy from Alastor and ate it. You gotta admit it was tasty as fuck! The candy melted on your tongue and your eyes lit up like shimmering glitter in a summer sun. Alastor smile softly at you and turns to building while you eat. As Alastor enters you heard a ladies voice.

"Yeah, and I would eat my husband too!"

You turn to see a lady who is wearing an old timey fit and she is very tall, slender-built demon with pale gray skin, and a wide mouth full of sharp light pink teeth, black-colored lips and dusty-pink cheeks. Her eyes are pitch-black.

You always liked to look at people sometimes to observe, it's a weird habit of yours at times but you must admit this lady was beautiful.

"Oh Rosie dear!"

"Alastor hon!" The lady says cheery as she walks to Alastor and you. You hopped off of Alastor landing on Neno who held his hand for you to softly get on the ground. The two overlords hug as you finally noticed who she was. She was the one Alastor told you about sometimes.

"Oh and who is this cutie! Aw I could just eat you up!"

"Please don't." You said with an awkward smile as she pinches your cheek like a granny.

She chuckles putting a hand to her face, "oh don't worry, Alastor told me all about you and how such a dearie you are to him at times."

You raised a brow at that. "Really?" You looked at Alastor who seems to be ignoring your gaze as you just scrunched your face up in confusion.

"Why yes! You're the [animal/shadow] demon he was talking about!" She says as she cups her hands in your. Neno watches as he swirls around your body and playful nibbles on Rosie who chuckles. "And this much be your pet!" "Counter part actually.." Rosie had a surprised look as she looks into Neno's eyes which is pure white, opposite from Rosie's own eyes.

"Well isn't that swell..."

(I'm tired so I can't finish the part where you get to hang out with Lucifer again. My head ache and me being drowsy as shit isn't helping. Hope you enjoyed this)

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello lovely! I have a pretty weird/specific request. So if you don’t feel like writing it no big deal. I have celiacs, which means anytime I eat gluten(bread and such) my body turns autoimmune. Meaning every time I eat it(on accident but I just got diagnosed we all thought I just had a shitty immune system and a sensitive tummy so it’s been a bit of an adjustment) I end up getting an upper respiratory infection/issues or the flu(body aches and all). Anyways can I have a small story with whichever marauder you think fits it, with clod/flu supplies always at the ready and just not minding that she is ALWAYS sick 🥺 if not it’s a okay I understand 💕💕 just feel free to delete ☺️☺️

hi hunny! i hope you are doing well! remus lupin x fem!reader

cw: mentions of being sick, flu like symptoms

650 words

When the bedroom door opened, you could see the immediate concern written over Remus’ face. Under usual circumstances, he would get home about an hour before you, more if things at work were particularly swamped. Seeing that you were home obviously long before him, wrapped in twisted sheets and looking miserable, was enough to make him panic. Still, he was as gentle as ever when he crouched by your bedside, the back of his hand pressed to your scorching cheek. 

“Thought I saw your shoes by the door.” He mused, a deep groove making its home between his brows. “You feeling sick, dove?” You nodded, a wave of nausea going through you from the movement. 

“Lunch was catered at work today. My food was mislabeled, I got sent home a few hours ago.” You said miserably, squirming and desperately trying to burrow further to escape the chills. Though that meant you were too warm to be comfortable. Remus cooed sadly at your struggle. 

“I’m so sorry, darling.” He said, smoothing your damp hair from your forehead. “Have you taken anything?”

You shook your head. “When I got back I just laid down.” You knew he would to chide you, but he could see how bad you felt. His mouth was downturned, pressed into a sad line as he took in your state. 

“Are you aching? I’ll get you some paracetamol.” 

You groaned. “I think I’m out.” He ignored you, moving over to his side of the bed. You turned to watch him as he dug through his bottom bedside drawer, fishing out a thermometer and various clattering plastic bottles. He held the reader over your forehead, humming disapprovingly at the beep. 

“37.7.” He sighed, setting the thermometer down on your nightstand. “Have you eaten anything since you got sick, lovely? You can’t have these on an empty stomach.” 

You shook your head, sitting up. “I don’t know if I can handle any food right now.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, gently caressing your jaw and pouting. 

“I can get you some fruit and tea? You don’t need much, just a little something.” When you still looked unsure he sighed, though still eternally patient. “If you don’t have something it’s just going to hurt worse, baby dove.” 

You sighed. “I can try.” You smiled, more for his sake than yours. He kissed your scorching forehead. You pulled away fast, feeling a coughing fit overtake you. Remus cooed and rubbed your back as you struggled. 

“You poor thing, that doesn’t sound very good.” He grabbed the tissue box and covered your mouth for you. You wanted to bat him away and shriek, but you leaned against his chest miserably. 

“I’m sorry I always make you do this.” You muttered. He pulled away, looking at you confused. 

“You make me do… what, exactly?” He still stroked your face and head gently. 

“I’m always sick and you always have to look after me. It’s not fair to-” You couldn’t finish the sentence without coughing again. He let your fit ease before he rebutted.

“You don’t make me do anything. I don’t, and would not, do anything I wouldn't wish to.” He said intense, yet kind. “And it’s hardly your fault, it’s not like this is fair on you either, lovely girl.” 

You sighed. “You didn’t sign up for this.” He looked up thoughtfully for a moment before leaning in close, nearly touching his forehead to yours. 

“I signed up for you. All, of you.” His tone was sweet, but left no room for argument. 

“Thank you.” You mouthed. He smiled, kissing your cheek. 

“I’m going to get you some food.” He said, standing up. “And then you should get some rest.” You resisted the urge to chase him. 

“Will you stay with me?” You asked, hopeful.

“That was never in question.” He kissed your forehead again.

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from the one where Clark is trans and Kon isn't, but no one actually knows this:

Cadmus didn't know Superman was a trans man before they stole his dead body, but considering how many total assholes were on staff at the time they were surprisingly respectful of his gender identity. Not so much his bodily autonomy or his DNA or his potential feelings about being cloned against his will, but like, they used his preferred pronouns and whatever. 

So like . . . diversity win, Kon guesses? Or . . . whatever that'd be? 

So when they made . . . him . . . 

Kon got educated and socialized as male, when they made him. They called him "he" and "him", at least when they weren't calling him "it". They couldn't figure out how to synthesize effective hormone treatments for half-Kryptonian genes, but they had plans for surgeries they were gonna do when he was physically mature enough. Like–before the yellow sunlight could really kick in, effects-wise. Apparently they tried just tweaking the sex on a few earlier models, but by the time they got to Experiment Thirteen, they'd figured out that they couldn't work out what an actual AMAB Kryptonian's genes should look like and had just planned for the surgeries. 

Kon's not really sure how to take that. Like . . . is it good that they wanted him to be comfortable in his body? That they cared about what the fuck he'd want to look like? 

Or is it bad that they didn't ask him if he'd even want any of that? 

Kon wears a binder and a packer and acts like he thinks boys are supposed to act, tries to take charge and be tough and be confident and hit on pretty girls and not look at pretty guys, and Kal tells him he doesn't have to try so hard. Tells him to just act natural. Kon doesn't know how to do that, though. 

Acting "natural" would be . . . 

Acting natural would be a problem. 

Cissie has really long hair. Sometimes Kon watches how it moves and pretends to be checking her out when she catches him. Like the same way he pretends that he's perving on her ass when he's actually looking at the swish of her skirt, or that he's making eyes at her tits when he's really just wondering what his own would look like without the binder that he wears . . . more than he's supposed to, to be honest. 

Serling gets on his ass about it when he forgets to take it off every eight hours. She's working on synthesizing actual hybrid hormones for him, she says, but it's technically a backburner project right now because everything is always on fire and the world keeps trying to end in increasingly ludicrous ways. 

Which, well–he appreciates it, really, but that'd all be more helpful if he was actually "forgetting" to take the binder off, and if he wasn't terrified that she's actually gonna manage those hormones someday. Serling's, like, a crazy genius, after all. She might be able to pull that off. 

But Kon doesn't want the hormones. Doesn't want the surgeries he's been told Cadmus will give him as soon as he's physically mature enough. Doesn't want . . . 

Kon doesn't actually hate his body, is the thing. He doesn't feel bad or weird in it. He kind of just . . . he likes it the way it is. He doesn't even want to wear the binder or the packer, honestly. 

Literally every single fucking person who knows he’s trans has been respectful about it and has given him everything he could ever need to present as male and never, ever said anything to belittle or question his gender or his right to consider himself a man or even slipped up with his pronouns or anything. Even fucking Westfield never said anything shitty to him about it, for fuck's sake. Fucking Westfield, of all people! 

Which would all be great and good and very fucking validating, if Kon weren't fucking cis. 

There is something extremely, extremely bullshit about the fact that Kon is getting all the acceptance and support and medical care that every actual trans person deserves without even asking for or needing it. But she has no idea how to tell anyone that she's not what they think she is. Or who. Or . . .

Seriously, who else's life has ever been weird enough that they'd need to come out as cisgender? Like, who else ever?

Young Justice thinks Kon's a cis guy. The public thinks she's a cis guy. The superhero and supervillain communities both think she's a cis guy, except for the handful of people that know about Kal not being one, and even most of Cadmus does, depending on clearance levels and whatever. Tana and Roxy and fucking Knockout all thought she was a cis guy, even. Robin might "know" she's actually a trans one, being a Bat and all, but he's never said anything that's made her think he might.

Hell, the fucking Agenda doesn't even "misgender" her.

So everyone who knows has been absolutely fucking great and respectful about it and otherwise Kon passes fucking perfectly, and no one's ever once looked at her as anything but a guy. Anything but Superboy.

Except all Kon wants is for someone to look at her and see a girl. To see Supergirl.

So she doesn't really like to talk to Kara when she doesn't have to.

Or . . . ever, really.

Unfortunately, right now they kinda do have to talk.

"Well, your evil twin remains evil, no surprise," Kara says with a sigh, eyeing the walls of the containment cell that the Agenda has stuffed them into and is for some inexplicable bullshit reason slowly filling with water, who even fucking knows why. There's gotta be faster ways to kill them, especially considering Kon isn't even sure how much Kara needs to breathe at all. Like, she definitely does? But as for Kara, who knows. "Match is the worst possible version of a Superboy, I swear to Rao."

Kon has the weird urge to snap about how maybe Match isn't a boy and has anyone even asked?

No one ever asked her, for fucking sure. She didn't even know she wasn't a boy for way too long. Everybody'd always told her that she was, after all, and she'd just thought it'd felt weird to get called a boy because she wasn't a fucking little kid, she was Superman, or because she was trans and like, felt fake about her gender because she'd somehow accidentally internalized some stupid bullshit, or because of any number of other reasons that would've all made perfect sense and had all turned out to be perfectly wrong.

So yeah. Kon does kinda identify with the trans experience, ironically enough.

"Yeah, Match is usually a pain in the ass," she says instead of telling Kara how much she fucking hates her for getting to be what she can't, then starts looking for a way out of the stupid containment cell. It's not Kara's fault Kon hates her, for one thing, and also she doesn't wanna die here. Like, she definitely doesn't.

She wonders if Match might have reacted to her differently, if when they'd first met she'd known enough to ask if they were sisters.

Probably not, whether they're sisters or not. Match still seems pretty married to "I don't have free will" as a coping mechanism for all the psychological damage that being cloned and force-grown and told your only value and entire reason for existence lies in replacing someone who doesn't actually need to be replaced, it seems like.

Not that Kon would know anything about that, obviously.

Like, why would she?

She feels along the walls with her TTK and finds a frustrating lack of structural vulnerabilities to exploit. Kara punches them a few times, though they've already tried that. Kon doesn't blame her, at this point. The water keeps steadily pouring in and makes its way up to their thighs.

It is not reassuring. Like, at all.

Kon is gonna be so annoyed if she dies and gets buried as Superboy.

Though she was always going to do that, wasn't she. Best case scenario might've gotten her to Superman, maybe, but . . . yeah.

What else was she ever gonna do?

Cadmus made her to be Superman. Kal told her she could be Superboy, and named her after a boy, and named her like a Kryptonian boy would've been.

Although she guesses to have a femme-style Kryptonian name, she'd have needed to have a father.

She wonders if Kal would've named her at all, if he would've had to give her a name with a father's name attached to it. Maybe he would've just gone with Jor-El's, since technically Jor-El is the paternal donor of her Kryptonian DNA.

Or maybe he would've gone with . . .

Kon stops thinking about stupid shit she knows better than to be thinking about and feels out with her TTK again.

[changbinsboobs]

yes pleasue you have interesting things to read about. hmm i also wondered how they view their reputation among both male and female idols? do they think it could be better or worse?

Since this requires lots of time to read for im gonna split it up in 2 groups again

Hyung line: How Skz think their reputation is among idols

Chan

Male: that one was a bit weird i think he thinks the opinions are split - like some absolutely love him and think he's a delight to be around, while others find him cold and stern and appalling(?).

Female: he definitely thinks he's charming them girls up😂 i think he thinks he has a loverboy image among them and is boyfie material.

Lee Know

Male: he thinks they view him as very motherly and caring. Often surprised by his nurturing and father/mother like qualities.

Female: thinks they view him as uninterested and maybe don't even have much else of an opinion of him cuz he's just not present around them.

Changbin

Male: thinks they view him as really fun and upcheering, kind of like the heart of the group or center of attention. He also thinks that they think of him as someone who brings or holds a group/hangout together. Like the burning flame that keeps the campers surrounded around it, warm.

Female: he thinks they like him and have a good opinion on him and feel comfortable & safe around him (he says one telling thing is that he gets to see their dorky side often, which they keep under wraps with other guys/people). Also he thinks that they like his money or view him as someone who's very generous and can spend on them🥲💀😂

Hyunjin

Male: this was also a bit difficult, i think this mightve struck a nerve or something as im getting an energy of him being very hurt by some sort of rumours or behavioursbof someone and it shattered his "views" of some people. Maybe there was a rumour or something spreading about him among guys that either isnt true and he feels horrible that someone put it out there and people believe it and now thinks everyone thinks bad of him or something, or maybe the rumors actually true, and he's certain someone he thought was his friend started it and whichever it is he feels really shitty and austrasized about it. Dont know if thats actually true - like if he's been really austrasized or not, but thats definitely what he feels. Back to the topic tho - his overal thoughts besides that, on his image among male idols is they think he's very cool and fierces, he thinks he's kind of a role model especially for younger ones, like ifhglgkg yk that energy of a big and little sis, and the younger one looks up to the bigger one. So in a way i think he thinks that a lot of guys look up to him and think he's really cool.

Female: here i don't pick up much on his reputation persee but he thinks that lots of female idols just look at him from afar and admire him, despite really wanting to get close or make a move but for some reason i get the feeling that they don't? As if he's there to just be admired but not touched😂 like the art in the museum. Maybe he has heard rumours or something about people really liking him and thinking about or wanting to make a move. But again im no getting much of a confirmation if they actually do or not. Oh and also in this reading rumours were pretty evident, so maybe he's someone that has had to deal with lots of that. Maybe he's in those kinds of groups where theres always some drama happening😂 or he just enjoys endulging in rumours or gossip himself? Idk but that stuck out in this reading so🤷🏻‍♀️

[lfzyxf]

Can you write fluff where Isaac takes care of his sick girlfriend? I got sick myself quite recently and would like to read something like this with my comfort character ~ 🙈anon

Hope you like this, honestly i don't think he'd have much experience but he would definitely do his best to care for you. Just Isaac being the best boyfriend ever.

Isaac Lahey x gn!reader Word count: 840 Masterlist

You really don’t have time for this. Everything has been going wrong once again, first, this weird deer runs into Allison’s car, then the windows at school break because a bunch of crows thought it was a great idea to smash themselves against it. And now you’re stuck in bed, 3 blankets covering you, including a heated one. Next to you is a mountain of tissues because you can’t be bothered to walk all the way over to the bin. And your bedside table stands full of half-empty medicine packaging.

You sneeze for what feels like the hundredth time that morning before groaning miserably. You can see your phone flashing once again from the corner of your eye but just like with most things today, you can’t be bothered getting it. You close your eyes for a few seconds before the sound of your door slowly opening makes you open them again, albeit barely.

“Did you die?” You hear him before you really figure out that he’s standing in your room. “Yes Isaac, I’m dead, I’ve died a miserably, lonely death.” He nods before really taking in the view in front of him. He sighs before quickly walking over to your bin and dragging it towards your bed. Making an odd-looking face he starts throwing away the pile of tissues and lying next to you. “I was wondering why you weren’t answering my texts, figured it had to be something close to dead for you to ignore me” he explains while laughing.

You snort before taking the bin away from him and shooing him away. He does as you request, only to plug your phone into your charger. “Are you hungry?” You shrug before nodding half-heartedly, “I could eat.” Isaac nods back before leaving your room, making you close your eyes and rest while you wait for him to come back.

Fifteen minutes later your door opens again, Isaac is holding a bowl with what you assume is soup and in his other hand is a large bottle of water. He opens the door further by pushing it with his hip, before walking back towards you. “A meal made just for you by the incredible chef Lahey, you’re welcome.” He speaks with some sort of accent you can’t quite place and a ridiculous look on his face, making you laugh.

“Oh, thank you kind sir-” you interrupt yourself by laughing again when he makes an extravagant bow. He puts the stuff he got you on the bedside table that stands empty before jumping into your bed and laying his head down on your lap. “Caught a cold?” He asks while playing with one of the blankets covering you. “Some type of virus, again” you explain rolling your eyes.

“What’s that- the third time? This month?” He says while laughing softly, but his hands move to hold yours softly. You nod in response, squeezing his hands before grabbing your bottle of water and taking a few big gulps. “Shitty timing, like always,” you say once you’re finished hydrating. Isaac shrugs, a soft smirk resting on his lips like it often does. “At least you’re safe here, no birds crashing against your window. No annoying twins running around.”

He moves to sit next to you now, handing you your bowl of soup before softly kissing the side of your head. “Don’t think too much about the others, they’re fine. You need to rest and get better” he says softly, playing with your hair as you relax into him.

It’s quiet while you finish eating, he’s grabbed your laptop from the corner of your bed to try and find something to watch. When you’re debating whether or not to do another rerun of your favourite show, Isaac’s phone starts ringing. He sighs before picking it up, “It’s Scott-” “It’s okay, it might be important” you interrupt him.

He lets out another sigh before picking up, you can’t hear what Scott’s saying but by the look on Isaac’s face, it’s important. You’re about to tell him to just go when he responds to Scott. “Look Scott, don’t you think you can do this without me? Call Derek if you need to but I can’t leave right now.” You hear some distant words before they say goodbye and Isaac hangs up, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed.

You look up at him with a raised brow. “What? Scott’s a big boy, he can handle himself for one night. I need to make sure that you are okay.” He puffs his chest out, almost acting proud of staying here with you. “Yeah, okay big guy- I really need some protection here in case a deer breaks in” you respond laughing.

He laughs, shaking his head softly so his curly hair falls back in place. “That’s what I’m here for,” he says before grabbing the forgotten laptop again. “And to rewatch this show for the fifth time.” You smile at him before snuggling into his chest, ready to watch your favourite show again.

[willowser]

bakugou hesitates beneath the dim light of the station lamp.

you notice it at the last moment, half-turned from him already. red riot is waiting at the end of the sidewalk, far back behind him, a fuzzy, red little blip in the distance; before, he at least tried to act like he was interested in something on his phone, though now that he is safely out of reach of his partner's searing glare, his attention is all yours.

it feels like permission, for something. whatever it is has your heart growing in your chest, beating almost painfully.

in one quick flash of movement, bakugou pushes a rough hand up his face, dragging his mask along with his fingers until it's free. there, it dangles a bit limply as he stares down at it, picking at a loose string. he's fussed his hair up a little, but you don't think he knows and it's too cute to call attention to.

by now, he should be half-way back to kirishima, back to patrol. back to the city.

"think y'can manage not to die if i catch up with shitty hair?"

you had hummed coyly, silly and light beneath his severe stare. the darkness of his mask bleeds into his eyes, making them seem deeper, sharper; it's hard not to squirm at the other end of it.

"we'll see, i guess," you grinned. "listen for me to scream real loud, okay?"

bakugou had huffed, material of his gloves scratching against itself as his fists balled. "don't say shit like that."

now he's pulling them off, his gloves. staring down at his own hands, skin a bit pale in the winter evening. you watch him flex his fingers, warming the life back into them, before he's glancing up at you from beneath his long lashes.

"got this," he murmurs, without explanation, "shit on my face."

and — he does; eyes still shadows, outlined in his tacky, grease paint. a ghost of his breath floats by every time he huffs, but there's a sheen to the paint, high on the points of his cheeks, where it's smeared, like he's sweating in this kind of weather.

again, you see the ant in distance move, and you think he may be closer.

finally, you ask, "what are you doing?" because — he should be gone by now.

the rare moments you earn with him are often stolen away by dynamight; this should be no different. instead, he is here, having quietly accompanied you to the train too late at night, borrowing time neither of you can afford to pay back.

not that you would. not when he's shuffling in his heavy boots, gloves crumpled in one tight, icy fist. bakugou raises to his full height — a sudden reminder, of his greatness; his slouch is terrible — and you feel the night closing in on you both. shrouding you in something unfamiliar.

he doesn't say anything, just fixes you with a determined stare that makes you feel seen; maybe too seen. before your heart can land another beat, he's there, too close in front of you, melting what ice has gathered over your own fingers.

you gasp quietly, visible in the winter. there's something a bit frightening about him like this, dressed in his warring gear, painted like a warrior, but heat floods your face and builds on the back of your neck, excited by the hazard of him.

he's so beautiful, unappreciated. you look into the soft plain of his face and melt a little further, lean in as if to press your cheek to his.

bakugou lets out another huff; a mirror of your own breath. he murmurs, "fuck it," before closing the space between you, finally.

his lips are a little dry, but so are yours, by the chill, and the first kiss is quick and firm and chaste. he doesn't move away from you when it's over, though, just crowds you with a furrowed brow, nudging it gently against yours in an affectionate little headbutt.

it makes you laugh and that pulls him in again, rough fingers sliding along the curve of your jaw, keeping you together as his lips part with your own, deep and slow, savored. you've day-dreamed this moment with him one-thousand times since entering into his weird, intimate little space, but he's easier to fall into than you could have ever imagined.

bakugou breathes against you, open and panting, and you know he needs to go — but he doesn't fight when you rest a hand on his chest; his fingers tangle in your hair and his lips become kiss-bitten, red and wet as he parts to you for the last time tonight, tongue brushing your own before he's pulling away with a rushed, "fuck,"

you blink up at him, smile growing as red riot hoots and hollers down the street. bakugou's face is as red as his partner's costume, not dimmed in the slightest as he breathes in the night air, turns his face up to the chill.

"i—" he hesitates again before taking a step away, yanking his mask back on. "call me when—y'get home."

you laugh, and the sound stops him for another split second, though his eyes are bright and alive as he gazes at you, this time. "okay," you agree, cheeks aching from your smile. "okay, i will, i promise."

it releases him; he doesn't waste another moment before turning on his heel, tugging his gloves on as he saunters back down the sidewalk — to a jumping kirishima. bakugou shoves him once, voice low and angry and unmistakable, even from the distance.

you both savor the moment one last time, with one more look, before it slips away.

[readerswritings]

In the Damn Kitchen - Poolverine 1/2

Smut will come in next chapter I promise, just needed to get this part out into the world first to see if people like it. (Update 28/11: Rewrote/reformulated some parts) (AO3)

Warnings/tags: roommates, first kiss, idiots in love, eventual smut, canon-typical behavior

Wordcount: 1279

Summary: Logan and Wade are some weird kind of roomates, and one morning Logan tries to figure out how to make Wade shut the fuck up without getting blood in his breakfast.

Logan has been staying with Wade on his shitty pull-out couch for three months. Something that was meant to be somewhat temporary is feeling less and less like that these days.

They still fight physically, stabbing each other and making a mess (that Al complains about later), but they also just hang out.

Which Logan isn’t used to.

Not anymore.

Haven’t been for a good while.

Wade has grown on him, even with all the touching. And talking.

All the goddamn talking.

It rarely stops.

Wade talks on each inhale and exhale.

Not even when he eats is Wade quiet, talking with his mouth full of food. He has been doing it less lately, after Logan stabbed him with a fork a few times so he wouldn’t have to see that shit.

Wade is only quiet when he’s sleeping.

Logan has returned late from a bar or late-night walks a few times to Wade asleep on the pullout. Seeing him quiet and still had been odd. Wade’s ADHD filled ass never being still when he’s awake. 

Wade also sleeps like he’s dead. Logan had discovered this when he tried to wake him so he would move the first time. It was legitimately difficult to wake him up. So after that first time where it took an eternity to get him conscious enough to move, Logan either goes to sleep in the armchair he had gotten off the street the first week he was here, or tips Wade onto the floor with a pillow if he is in a bad mood. 

When he doesn’t give a shit, he’ll just crawl onto the pullout with Wade. He tends to wake up before him anyway. The few times he doesn’t, a few claws to the guts makes Wade shut up, or at least talk about something else.

Another thing with Wade is how casual he is about touch.

Sure, Wade had been touching him a bunch when they first met. But that had been to rile Logan up, to get a reaction, even if it was all negative. (The Honda doesn’t count in any positive way, the intent behind all of that had been hate and adrenaline. Even if the end result had been pleasant.)

Now though, it’s a hand patting his shoulder as they pass in the kitchen. A thigh bumping against his own as they watch shitty reality tv. Feet kicking him under the dinner table if he says something too blunt or rude. A shoulder bumping against his as they walk that damn ugly dog together.

It makes his skin crawl, mostly with how used to it he has become. And how he kinda, not that he will admit this to anyone except his own thoughts, likes it.

It’s all become routine, a weird kind of domestic life, (Logan hates that word), that works for them.

Speaking of routine, Logan often makes breakfast for them. Wade can barely cook, Al is blind, and Logan doesn’t mind that much most of the time. He needs to eat a lot anyway, and getting something into Wade that is somewhat healthy, and not just all sugar, makes him a little less irritating to deal with during the day.

Wade, of course, likes to tease him when he cooks. Stealing bites before it’s ready. Logan has become quite adept at fighting just with a spatula, smacking hands away with a grunted ‘fuck off.’

He’s off his game this morning though, as Wade manages to snatch a piece of bacon, straight from the pan where it was almost finished. Logan knows it must be burning his mouth and tongue, but Wade crunches on his price with a grin on his face. 

He’s wearing Deadpool pajama pants, bunny slippers, and a pink long sleeve with Hello Kitty on it, and he frankly looks ridiculous leaning on the counter, extra so next to Logan who is fully dressed for the day in his flannel, t-shirt, jeans, and boots.

“Haven’t had enough coffee yet peanut?” Logan grunts, smacking Wade’s hand as it tries to go for another piece. 

“Fuck off.”

“Oh you know I love it when you talk dirty to me, even this early in the morning.”

“It’s 10 am dipshit.”

“Oh you know the saying, it’s always 5 am somewhere.” Logan snorts, shaking his head. He grabs a plate to put the finished bacon on, putting some more in the pan. He lets Wade take a piece from the plate.

“Besides, I kept waking up because my dreams were being haunted by this sexy lumberjack looking figure, and I woke up with a raging hard-on that I had to take care of every-” Logan tunes him out, he had quickly learned to filter out through what Wade is saying, and what he can tune out. He flips the bacon, then stirs the eggs in the other pan where he’s keeping them warm on low heat.

There’s a hand in his hair, and that makes his focus snap back to Wade and his yapping. 

“You know, I always wonder if you roll out of bed with these little tufts.” Logan pushes his hand away, letting the claws out just enough so he knicks Wade’s skin. 

“Ouchie, someone’s a grump this morning. You’ve clearly not gotten enough caffeine in your hot bod yet. We should get that coffee that has a fuckton of it, the one with the skull or whatever, that lethal shit. Wonder if that would actually kill you, do you think your heart could give out on you? I think they even make you sign a wai-” Logan tunes him out again and wonders what it will take to shut Wade up. He is right, Logan has not had enough coffee for this. (Or booze, but he’s trying to do a little less of that.) 

Logan absentmindedly notices one of Wade’s scars on his cheek looks kinda almost like an H if he squints, so he does, and his mind drifts to the Honda. Unintentional, though not an unwelcome or unknown train of thought.

He’d rather not get blood on his bacon right now, so he goes for another component of the things that transpired in that surprisingly spacious car.

He steps towards Wade and turns, leaning forward, pressing his lips against Wade’s. It’s a brief kiss, but Wade doesn’t immediately say anything as Logan leans back just enough to gauge his reaction. He's enjoying the silence as Wade's eyes are flickering all over his face.

Wade’s mouth is gaping like a fish, opening and closing before his brain is booting back up. It makes Logan snort as he leans back all the way back.

The silence lasts for maybe thirty seconds, which Logan uses to turn and flip the bacon without it being in danger of being stolen.

“What the fuck peanut? You interupted me mid-monologue, that was fucking rude you-”

“Thought it would shut you up, but I see that didn’t work.” Logan takes a step to the side and away from Wade, but is hauled back and turned by hands twisted in the collar of his flannel.

“Oh no, you are not going anywhere until I get an explanation, or more.” Logan arches a brow, hands at his side, not touching Wade. The urge to punch or stab him is rising. 

And the urge to kiss him. 

Again. 

He knows all of those options would work for Wade.

And for him.

“I gave you an explanation.” 

“Grew tired of the claws old man? Don’t wanna stab this supple fle-”

“God you are desperate.” Logan doesn’t know if he means it as an insult or a compliment, but kisses Wade again anyway.