#i’m at the point where. it’s the FINALS. i read fics n stuff so i know it’s fun but like

[hinakyuu]

warning: gonna be an asshole real quick. (also my opinion is my own, i don’t speak for anyone else, etc. )

ok but we have so many dynamics here within our own team. real, strong bonds. plus uhh proximity? idk why there are ppl with a foot in both sides solely due to fictional ships. like i’ll make it easy for u. if u don’t know who to root for and are “conflicted” then just go ahead and root for the other team. after the behavior they displayed today if that hasn’t made up ur mind then maybe i don’t want even half of ur support for my team

[jyoongim]

So in the fic where reader is Alastor’s opposite you said she gives him attitude and that just stuck with me cuz I love giving attitude, literally as I child my mom gave me her old flip phone and I’d just flip it whenever someone got on my nerves. Can I please have a funny fic where reader gives him attitude a lot? She loves him but she’s spoiled rotten(his fault). Bonus points if she reads tf out Vox in defense of her man.

Bratty Princess

A/N: I’m not the funniest person in the world so I hope you like this little Drabble @queenariesofnarnia

—————————————————————————————

How could Alastor tolerate you? 

The Radio Demon was feared and many didn’t have the gall to stand up to the man.

You, however, always pushed the demon’s buttons.

You were a brat. In every sense of the word.

You didn’t listen to Alastor, you always gave him lip and fussed.

And the demon wouldn’t have it any other way. He liked that you gave him a challenge. 

You were Alastor’s everything. His little darling that he let do whatever she wanted.

It was his fault really. He spoiled you rotten, giving in to every desire you wished, treating you like a princess.

You loved the attention he provided, happily exercising your rights on the man.

Your bratty attitude came with pros.

You were confident, assertive, and arrogant. Alastor would play your little game until he had enough and put you back in your place.

The cons?

You were stubborn, sarcastic, sassy. You could get away with a lot of stuff and not bat an eye at the consequences. Alastor let you

—————————————————————————————-

The gang watched as you glared at the red demon.

Your eyes were narrowed, arms crossed as you fumed.

Alastor stood before you calmly. His smile on his face, arms tucked behind his back as he nonchalantly tilted his head at you.

What they were witnessing was shocking.

Someone chewing out Alastor and they weren’t shitting their pants.

”You think just because you’re some big and scary Overlord that I will do whatever you say! Well no! I finally have a chance, so I’m going and that’s final!”

you even stomped your foot.

The gang held their breath, thinking you had finally pushed the Radio Demon to the edge.

Their eyes widened when he looked at the finger poked in his chest and leered over you. He grabbed your chin, making you look at him.

”My dear if you wanted to go so bad all you had to do was ask.”

Their mouths dropped.

————————————————————————————-

“No I don’t like it”

Alastor’s eye twitched “You’re the one who wanted them.”

You turned your nose up in the air “I changed my mind. The color isn’t right”

The trembling demons before you almost sighed in relief when you walked away from them.

”Get rid of them” you said with a wave of your hand.

They tensed as the red demon let out a growl and turned to the shivering demons with a smile.

“Well you heard the little lady, you’re no longer needed. So I bid you adieu”

You hummed a little tune as screams ranged through the air.

————————————————————————————-

You were accompanying Alastor on one of his outings. He had some errands to run and you were simply bored and wanted to spend time with your lover.

The two of you walked past a group of bystanders, who were watching Voxtech commercials.

You didn’t particularly need anything from Voxtech, but you liked to see the marketing sales on the tech. You had a keen taste in business.

Vox, always watching, caught sight of you separating from the demon and approaching the store.

”ma cherie?” Alastor asked when he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned to see you looking through the window of the tech store.

A hand on your waist, made you aware of the demon’s present next to you.

Your eyes were fixated on the advertisements.

”No” he said sternly, already seeing the gears turn on your head.

You turn to him, a pout on your lips “But I just want to make suggestions ” You stomped your foot, pouting “come on Al. Why can’t I get a job? I make your radio broadcast a hit!”

”My dear I don’t see the reason you want to work. You can have anything you want if you ask” Alastor said as you began to whine.

You hadn’t noticed Vox materialize behind the two of you.

”You know Voxtech is hiring for a marketing director.”You spun around and Alastor cocked his head at the television, glaring.

Vox smiled down at you, throwing a smug look at Alastor.

”I’ve seen how much engagement your ideas have provided for Alastor, you got a real skill little lady. Why don’t I throw your name in the pot hmm?” He puffed his chest out pridefully.

Alastor latched his arm around you, eyes narrowed at the demon.

Vox ignored him, a sharp smile displayed on his screen.”Why don’t I give you a private tour huh? I’m sure you would like to work with more effective mediums your ideas would surely be appreciated. No need for old-timey wares”

You cocked your head “I appreciate the offer, but I like my position very much thank you”

Vox blinked. You were giving up lavish luxuries to stick beside a fossil?

He chuckled, playing off his confusion “My dear I don’t think you understand…”

You folded your arms, cocking “I don’t think you understand. I don’t need a job. I am provided for happily. I just thought you needed to clean up your marketing techniques.”

Vox screen glitched, before he cleared his throat, “very well but the offer is open.” He sent a invitation to your phone before walking off.

Alastor rolled his eyes as you giggled, giving him a smug look

”Seems I can appreciated elsewhere hehe better watch your back Al”

He walked off and you happily followed.

Why did he tolerate you?

———————————————————————————

Vox got on his high horse and decided he would try and degrade Alastor.

Top of the hour! Were discussing a certain has-been who’s been seen cavorting around town

did anyone miss him? Did anyone notice?

So the Radio Demon is back in town, why is he hanging around?

Well I’ve got good news!

Hes a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile but the demon is a coward!

He can’t even handle his little sweetheart!

The doll’s got questionable taste don’t you think? He doesn’t even appreciate the little thing! 

She bratted out and he didn’t even give any backlash

Spoiled rotten that one HAHA!

What a pretty addition she could make?

So what do you say?

Your eye twitched as you heard Vox’s patronizing through the radio waves.

You and Alastor were in his radio tower and you watched Alastor hum as he sipped his coffee. 

 You didn’t even say a word as you made yourself comfortable in his lap as you flipped on several switches on his control panel.

”That sack of wires thinks he can just whatever he wants and you’re not gonna say anything? He right! But i will! No one get to get on your nerves but me” you grumbled as you cleared your throat 

Salutations all you wayward sinners!

Yes I know its been a while since SOMEONE with style graced hell’s broadcast!

Sinners you may rejoice!

Instead of a clout-chasin mediocre video podcast

you sneered into the mic

Vox are you that insecure? Stickin your screen where it doesn’t need to be?

At least the fossil is consistent. Everyday you got a new format maybe you should fix that

I have questionable taste? You’ve been screwing the biggest perv in all of Hell!

At least I know where my dick goes

hahaha

You think you’re such high shit! Are you as strong as you purport?

is it based on your support? 

Or maybe its because you’ll be nothing without the Vees!

And here’s the sugar on the cream

He asked me to join his team

I said no and now he’s being a total piss baby

thats the real tea!

You heard Vox growl and the signal glitch, but Alastor made sure to keep the frequency open.

He settled his chin on your shoulder, softly kissing your shoulder.

I wont disagree on me being a brat you got me there

But good dick does that

cant relate can you bottom bitch?

Hows that burnt circuit doing hmm? I would get that checked out

Heard viruses could cause malware function

You signed off the air, huffing, a soft smile gracing your face.

Your victorious high was short lived, when Alastor tightened his hold around your waist.

Maybe you did too much?

He chuckled in your ear, purring as you attempted to melt into him

”That’s my good girl”

[parkersbliss]

your instagram when dating spencer reid

inspired by @/happiesthotch @/hotchaways :)

Liked by garciagirlie, alexblake and 374 others

ssa(y/n) love his clown feet 🫶🏼

view all 27 comments

spencephd love her baby feet ❤️

rossisrotini I didn’t know they could be nice to each other

→ jjareau she texted me after posting this and said he slam dunked her with a pillow

→ ms_emilyp @/ssa(y/n) use two exclamation points if you need help

→ ssa(y/n) HELP‼️‼️‼️‼️

→ agenthotch wheels up in 20, you heard her

d.morgan oh to see pretty boys feet

→ ssa(y/n) my eyes only 😡😡

→ spencephd im not sure how to feel about this

→ garciagirlie I could get you photos of lots of feet

→ agenthotch I think we need to have a talk about this

→ garciagirlie i meant my feet with fresh new nail polish* 😁

→ agentahotch 😐

liked by therealellew, jjareau and 427 others

ssa(y/n) pov garcia & morgan are on the phone

view all 33 comments

garciagirlie where’s my chocolate thunder

→ d.morgan right here baby girl 😏

→ spencephd we can’t escape them

→ ssa(y/n) but we can do worse ;)

→ ms_emilyp @/agentahotch do something about this

→ agenthotch no

rossisrotini I beg of you both to not become like them

→ spencephd now you’re just tempting us to do worse 🤷‍♂️

→ ssa(y/n) I await those glorious hands of yours, doctor

→ jjareau what have we started

→ ssa(y/n) ITS FOR A MASSAGE CHILL 😭

→ d.morgan could’ve fooled me tbh

liked by itsmattsimmons, d.morgan and 503 others

ssa(y/n) someone didn’t pass the physical fit test

view all 17 comments

d.morgan is he looking for a trainer 👀👀

→ garciagirl no. never again with you.

→ spencephd literally leave

→ jjareau we’re doing just fine without you 😘

ms_emilyp reid looking to outrun his paperwork

→ ssa(y/n) more like reid running to catch some bitches

→ spencephd so I’m chasing after you?

→ ssa(y/n) 😡😡

agenthotch who’s not doing paperwork 🤨

→ rossisrotini exposed like the lazy kids you are

liked by spencephd, agenthotch and 292 others

ssa(y/n) got my bitch <3

view all 19 comments

Spencephd 😐

→ ssa(y/n) notice how you didn’t correct me

→ spencephd can’t even tie her own shoes smh

→ ssa(y/n) LMAOOO that’s what you’re for SIMP

garciagirlie the love birds are at it again

→ jjareau love birds sounds more like enemies these days

→ d.morgan isn’t that the fun in it?

→ ssa(y/n) yes, he literally just threw the shoe at my face 😇

rossisrotini @/agenthotch got another case for ya

→ ms_emilyp that’s the sound of the police reid 🚨

→ spencephd you know statistically, it takes the police an average of 7 minutes to get to the scene. I could be long gone by then.

→ d.morgan I can hear him through my phone

→ spencephd :)

liked by alvarezluke, rossisrotini and 338 others

ssa(y/n) candid of my favorite nerd 🤭

view all 31 comments

spencephd I’ve been exposed 😟

→ ssa(y/n) wanna be exposed in a different way?

d.morgan looks like we got competition @/garciagirlie

→ garciagirlie 😏 been exposed for years to you baby

ms_emilyp 🤢 I’m moving back to london fr

→ jjareau take me with 🙏🏼🙏🏼

→ garciagirlie GIRLS TRIP

→ ssa(y/n) LETS GO

→ ms_emilyp not you ❤️

rossisrotini 🥂 cheers you two but keep it in your pants

→ ssa(y/n) hard to when he’s this fine 😫

→ spencephd actually die

agenthotch this is what we call a hostile work environment

→ d.morgan you weren’t even there for that hotch

→ agentahotch I have my ways

→ garciagirlie please don’t bring back such traumatizing memories

→ jjareau clearly we need to have this conversation again

— END —

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a/n finally got around to writing some criminal minds stuff 😫

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

[magicshopaholic]

Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.3 K

Warnings: none

A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.

“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.

Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.

“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.

“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”

“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.

“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.

“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook. 

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”

Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.

“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”

Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.

They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.

“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.

In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.

“Hey.”

He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”

Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”

“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.

Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself. 

He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.

Shit.

“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…” 

Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.

“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”

He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.

“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne. 

Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets. 

Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house. 

In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters. 

“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”

He swallows. “Thanks.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.

But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.

She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.

He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth. 

“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled. 

She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.

Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -

“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.

“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.

“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”

Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race. 

“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”

Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.

“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”

He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -

“Hm?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”

Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.

It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.

They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.

It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.

“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him. 

Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”

“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.

They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.

While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.

“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.

“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”

“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”

“Such as?”

“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia. 

“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”

There’s a brief but painful pause following his words. 

“They do, actually,” says Lia.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.

Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”

“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.

“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.

For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement. 

“Excuse me? May I?”

“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron. 

“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”

“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”

Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”

“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it. 

“And the other thing?”

“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”

Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”

Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”

His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”

“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.

—

Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?

“Namjoon hyung!”

Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him. 

“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”

“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.

“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”

Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”

“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”

Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”

“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”

“How would you mess it up?”

“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”

Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”

“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”

He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.

Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”

“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”

“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.

“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”

“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”

“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”

“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”

“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”

Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.” 

Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”

“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”

“Chances are… she probably won’t?”

Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.

“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.

“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”

While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway. 

—

“Damn it.” 

Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.

“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”

“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.

“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”

“Yeah?”

“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”

Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”

Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”

“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”

Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”

“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”

“You think so?”

“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”

“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”

“Lia.”

“‘Sup.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.

“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.

“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”

Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”

“What what?”

“You’re still looking at me.”

“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”

She gives him a look. “Just say it.”

“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”

Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”

“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”

“Maybe he was just making conversation?”

“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”

He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”

Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”

“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”

She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”

Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”

She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”

“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”

“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”

“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”

“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”

“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”

“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”

“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…” 

It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.

“... will take things as they come.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.

“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”

“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.

“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.

“Oi, Lia.” 

Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.

As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”

Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.

“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”

There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.

It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.

It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.

Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”

“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”

“Ah. Mistake number one.”

“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”

“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”

Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.

“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”

Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.

“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”

“What, all two of them?”

“Isn’t it three?”

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”

Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…

“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.

“What?”

“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”

“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”

“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”

“But -”

“Kook!”

“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”

“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”

“It’s -”

“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”

There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.

“Which signal was it again?”

True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.

“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”

Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her. 

“Is that -”

“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.

“Well?”

Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”

“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”

“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.

“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.

“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”

“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”

“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.

There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”

It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”

“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”

He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.

Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.

“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”

“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”

“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”

“It’s metal - can metal break?”

“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”

“Oh, yeah…”

In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes. 

“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. “And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”

“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.

“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”

“Worst case.” 

Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”

Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.

“A little to the left, come on…”

“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.

“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.

“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -” 

But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.

“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.

“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”

“What?”

“It has holes!”

“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly. 

“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”

“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”

“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”

Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”

“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.

Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness. 

She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.

“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.

When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”

“That’s a thank God you finally asked.” 

Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.

“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.

There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”

Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.

She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.

“What the fuck happened in here?”

“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”

“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before. 

“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.

Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.

He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.

“Deal.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Could you do one where the whole band is in the studio and reader is so desperate that she rides axl in front of everyone. Preferably the original line up in the current era please I love you❤🌷

A/n: I may have gone a little crazy with this but that's ok because who doesn't love the whole pretty boy band <3

Warnings: Smut, gang bang, riding, fingering(f receiving), hand jobs, breeding kink, if you think I missed anything please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Guns N’ Roses was finally back from tour and you couldn’t have been happier to get to be with Axl again. You called everyday while he was away, with the calls often ending in phone sex, but it wasn’t enough.

You knew from the get go with him that you wouldn’t be able to be with him as much as you might have liked to be, it was just part of being with someone in a band. Didn’t mean you didn’t miss him, in more ways than one.

You’d spent the first few days together, as per usual, but one morning you woke up to find him getting ready to leave.

“Hey, babe, where’re you going?” You asked as you walked into the bathroom where he was.

“Going to the studio today.” He answered through a mouthful of toothpaste. You glanced at his reflection in the mirror then back to him.

“Why? You guys just got back from tour.” He spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

“Yeah, where I had a lot of time to think of new songs.” He explained. He planted a kiss on your forehead before heading out of the bathroom and to the walk-in closet. “We’re going to a studio to work on the instrumentals of some of them for our next album.” You watched as he sorted through clothes.

“What about me?” You asked, looking up at him with a small pout.

“What about you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You expect me to just sit here all day?”

“Don’t you do that a lot anyway?” You glared at him, arms crossed over your chest and he gave you a kiss instead of apologising. “It’s only a few hours and then I’ll be home again.” You scoffed. He started changing in front of you, you watched him shamelessly.

“I’m coming with you.” You stated and started picking out your own outfit.

“No you’re not.” He looked at you with a confused expression. “What would you even do?” You shrugged.

“Nothing.” You said as you found an outfit for yourself. “But I want to be with you, so I’m coming.” He stared at you for a moment before deciding that he’s not going to be able to change your mind.

“Fine, be ready in ten minutes or I’m leaving without you.

You finished getting ready, it took longer than ten minutes but you knew he wouldn’t leave without you, and of course he didn’t. He was still waiting in the kitchen on his phone, completely having lost sense of time.

Upon entering the studio you were met with familiar faces all around. Slash was looking down at his Les Paul, Izzy was watching him and strumming along a rhythm to it. Steven and Duff were talking about dogs. At least you assumed so since they were showing each other pictures of dogs.

They all greeted you and Axl when you came in. Axl guided you to the couch and sat next to you, throwing an arm around you and holding you close to his side.

They were all talking about one thing or another, the tour, home life, stuff like that before actually diving into what they came there for which was the next album.

You were bored out of your mind. No one cared when you went on your phone, you didn’t really have much reason to be there anyway other than them asking your opinion on some things, which lyric fit better, whether or not they should add more solos. You enjoyed helping when you could but you were so fucking bored you were losing your mind.

You started reading about Axl, finding smutty fics about him to pass the time. It did help, to a point. After a few minutes of reading all you wanted was to act it out.

You knew he had his phone in his pocket so you texted him, saying how needy you were. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and looked at it, glancing back at you before responding. He told you to go deal with it in the bathroom. You huffed and stayed seated on the couch.

As they kept talking you decided ‘fuck it’ and started pushing the joint in your thumb against your clit through your thin, summer shorts. It wasn’t much but it was some form of friction, friction you were craving.

You kept your eyes on your phone for the most part but when you heard Slash’s low chuckle you had to look up. His glasses covered his eyes so you couldn’t see exactly where he was looking but you could tell he was looking at you, watching you touch yourself. His hand covered his mouth but he was smiling, you could see it in his cheeks. That much was a motivator to keep going.

You spread your legs and reached your hand into your shorts, continuing to touch yourself but this time with a viewer. Slash kept watching, smiling, chuckling to himself.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Slash?” Axl finally asked. His tone wasn’t angry, even though you couldn’t see his face you could hear the way the corners of his mouth were pulled into a smile.

The guitarist shook his head and gestured to you. You quickly closed your legs and hid what you had been doing so when Axl turned to look at you there was nothing to see. Sure enough he asked Slash what you’d been doing.

“Go deal with your girlfriend.” He mumbled, aiming his gaze to the ground. Axl turned around again and took a closer look at you. Your cheeks were flushed, sweat was starting to collect at your hairline and your breathing was heavy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He came over to you, getting your pants and panties off. You started squirming and reaching for your clothes, not expecting him to undress you in front of his band. “I told you to stay home but no you just had come along, now look at you.” He gestured to your now half-naked body. You still tried to cover yourself but he wouldn’t let you, holding your legs apart as his bandmates gathered around behind him to gawk at your glistening folds.

Axl slapped your thigh. “Get up.” You did as he asked, though still wanting to cover yourself. Axl got his half-hard dick out of his pants and sat down behind you before pulling you down on him, slipping into you with ease given how hot you made yourself prior.

He got your legs onto the couch so you were straddling him, backwards cowgirl style. He wanted you to do all the work, since this was what you wanted in the first place. He also wanted this position so that his friends could see everything, from your pretty little cunt to the faces you made when you came.

“Go on, give us a show.” Duff said, already palming himself through his jeans. Axl patted the space beside him for Duff to come sit. He did and pulled out his hard member for you to jerk. You let out a soft whine and reached for him, starting to bounce yourself on Axl’s cock while stroking Duff’s.

Steven came over as well, standing to the side of you so as to not abstract Slash and Izzy’s view of you. He dropped his own pants and waited expectantly for you to let him in on the fun. You glanced back to Axl. “Can’t keep him waiting.” He said with a grin. You looked back to Steven and started pumping his shaft as well.

You thought this was a lot but you knew it wasn’t the end of it either. Izzy and Slash were both standing farther back working themselves. It seemed that you watching them acted as confirmation and they came over.

They didn’t make you take them into your mouth like you thought they would, much to your delight. Instead, they started jerking themselves off in your face and all you could do was wait for them to cum on you.

Your body was getting tired, arms wanted to fall to your sides and your legs began to shake under you as you kept bouncing on Axl. Seeing this the ginger started fucking up into you, making it a little easier.

Of course he knew your body better than anyone and knew exactly which spots to hit to make your eyes roll back. You had five men around you, all with their dicks out for you. It made everything feel better, especially when Duff reached over to rub your clit.

He has long, talented fingers that quickened everything you were feeling. “Fuck! ‘M-’m gonna cum, gonna cum!” You whined, hands clenching and unclenching around Duff and Steven’s cocks which seemed to get Steven over the edge, white liquid spurting onto your lap.

You looked down at it with stars in your eyes. It was then that you realised how badly you wanted all of them to cum on you. You kept jerking Steven off, his voice getting higher now. You could feel Axl twitching inside of you so you looked back at him.

“Please cum inside, want it so bad, please.” You whined. Axl had always wanted kids so you learned early on in your relationship that he had a breeding kink and asking him to cum inside your tight cunt was a sure fire way to make him cum.

Sure enough he grabbed your hips and held you down on him while his cum filled you up. That feeling alone almost made you cum but what really did it was Slash toying with your nipple.

You hadn’t been looking at him so his warm hand was already a surprise but the way he fondled you made your eyes roll back into your head. Your body shook and the couch under you, along with Axl’s lap, was now drenched.

You heard Duff groaning beside you and looked over just in time to catch his dick leaking, thick liquid coating your hand. His hand didn’t stop working on your clit, rubbing it, pinching and flicking. Seeing what made you moan the loudest and sweetest.

Izzy turned your head and thick ropes spurted onto your face. You stared up at him, lips parted as his seed slipped into your mouth. You were in such a trance for a moment you almost missed the feeling of Slash cumming on your chest.

More than once you’d caught him staring at your chest, really anyone’s chest. You smiled up at him and moved up and down Axl a few more times so he could watch your tits bounce while he came.

You were all breathing heavy, panting on one another as you came down from your highs.

“Get up.” Axl said with a heavy breath, patting your thigh. You got up and then started questioning what he wanted, your mind still in a haze. Sweat and jizz mixed together on your body and dripped down.

“Why..?” You asked out of breath and legs shaking beneath you.

“You wanted to get fucked so bad,” the ginger started, “why not give everyone a turn?” You stared up at him with wide eyes as you felt Slash’s big, warm hands wrap around your waist.

[wakandas-vibranium]

Wednesday Nights || Part One

Pairing: Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smutty smut, phone sex, dirty talk, teasing, swearing, sex work

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: As a single parent of an active kid Joel’s funds were tight, so he needed to find a quick way to make more income and surprisingly, you could make good money being a phone sex operator.

A/N: I kept daydreaming about Joel being a PSO. When I went to search for related fics I couldn’t find any so I wrote one :) Please like, comment and reblog!

part two

part three

part four

part five

Your nerves deteriorated with each passing minute. It was almost ten o'clock. On most days, the time didn't matter, but today was Wednesday. Wednesday nights were highly essential for you. 

For the past five months, you've been making late-night phone calls to talk to a specific phone sex operator named Jay. You had a sneaking suspicion that "Jay" wasn't actually his name, but you didn’t let that bother you. You understood that the operators were obligated to follow certain procedures for their own safety. 

Except for the few small truths he told you, Jay's personal life was a vast mystery to you. All you gathered about him from your extensive conversations was that he was a man in his early thirties from the southern parts of the United States who enjoyed a good cup of coffee before starting his day. He never specified where in the south he grew up, but the Texan drawl sounded too genuine to be artificial.

On Wednesdays, Jay only worked until 11 o'clock, so the two of you came to the conclusion fairly early on that you should dial in a little after 10 in order to ensure that you were his final call of the day.

You managed to calm your nerves by doing a little dance. You twirled in circles until you found yourself standing in front of your full-length mirror that was intentionally placed in front of your bed. You stopped dancing and stood there, appreciating your half-naked figure in the mirror as you waited for the clock to strike 10:03. 

You weren't sure why you always ended up so nervous around this time of the week. You'd been doing this for a while now, but it was just something about Jay that turned you into the shyest little thing.

You looked downright delicious in your baby blue lingerie. You brought it this afternoon along with a new toy. It wasn't like Jay could see it, but your imagination ran wild. Your breasts sat flawlessly in the laced blue bra. You looked like a fucking snack. 

If only you could meet Jay in person, you thought, sighing in disappointment. You eyed the clock and shook the negative thoughts from your head before you ended up in a funk. It was time to dial in. 

You were already drained from the week's stressors, and there were still two more days to go. You were in your last year of graduate school and utterly stumped on your thesis. You were sick of doing research, reading, typing, crying, and everything else that came with being a grad student. At this point, all you wanted to do was talk to Jay for as long as you possibly could and get off. 

You called in, waiting for the main operator to ask you who you wanted to be transferred to. She answered in her usual upbeat voice. You answered her question and before you knew it the line was being transferred to Jay. You held your breath on every ring, as you always did, until Jay picked up. Unexpectedly, a memory of your very first call came flooding back.

9:58pm five months ago

Valentine’s Day

Ring. Ring. Click. 

“Decompress until there’s a mess,” a cheerful woman said as she answered your call and you fought back a cackle at that ridiculous ass slogan. “Who would you like to speak to tonight?”

“Umm…this is my first time calling, so I’m not really sure.” you admitted.

“That’s alright, sugar,” the woman assured softly. “Let’s start with the simple stuff. Do you have a preference for gender or ethnicity?” 

“Umm, well, ethnicity doesn’t matter, but I’d like to speak with a man.”

“Okay. We’re getting somewhere. What kind of man?” 

“Someone with an accent.” 

“What kind of accent? We have ‘em all here, sugar.” 

The constant use of the pet name actually eased your nerves. Your shyness was depleting while your confidence was rising. 

“A southern accent?”

You had a slight accent kink since you could remember. You appreciated all accents, but there was something extra sweet about southern men and the way they could hold a conversation. Maybe it was because you grew up in the south too. 

“Louisiana?” The operator asked as she typed away at her computer. By the sound of her taps, her nails must have been quite long. You bet they looked as pretty as she sounded. 

“More of a Texan accent please.” You insisted, nibbling your bottom lip as you waited for her to find someone. 

“That’ll be Jay then.” 

“It looks like he’s finishing up another call,” she informed. “Do you mind waiting on hold for a few minutes before I transfer you?” 

“No, I don’t mind. Thank you.” 

“Okay. Placing you on hold now.”

You were on hold for maybe forty five seconds. The wait music stopped abruptly and the line rang four times before a sultry voice spoke. “Hello, darlin’.” 

And fuuuuuuuck. 

The sultry twang of his voice sounded like toe curling, earth shattering, raw sex.

You went to say hello, but for some reason you forgot how your mouth worked. You palmed your forehead, wincing.

How embarrassing. 

“Hello?” he said, tone shifting slightly. 

“Hi.” you finally whispered, palms somewhat shaking. You never did anything like this. Thank god he couldn’t see how much of a nervous wreck you were. You weren’t a virgin, but you didn’t have that many sexual experiences. There was plenty left for you to learn. 

“Sorry,” you continued, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This is my first time doing something like this and I’m a little nervous.” you admitted, shifting in the computer chair, spreading your legs. 

“I understand. We can take it slow, okay?” 

“Okay.” you nodded as if he could fucking see you. 

“My name is Jay. What’s your name?” 

“Y/N.” you blurted, without thinking. Were you supposed to give him a fake name?

He chuckled softly, “That your real name, darlin’?”

“Yeah,” you sighed deeply. “It is actually.”

“Well, Y/N is such a pretty name.” He complimented. 

“Thank you.” you smiled, shoulders relaxing as you began to twirl in your chair. 

“How old are you?” Jay asked. 

“I’ll be 28 next month,” you revealed, slipping into a more seductive voice now that your nerves were further away, “How old are you?” 

“I’ll be 31 later in September.” 

“Ah, so you’re a Libra man?” you teased. You weren’t super into astrology, but you knew the basics and looked at compatibility charts every now and then. 

“Am I now?” he laughed.

“You are and I’m an Aries. Apparently we’re very compatible.” 

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“You believe that?” He retorted.

“Sort of.” you mumbled, half shrugging. 

“I think we’ll find out in a lil’ bit.” Jay purred. You pulled the phone away from your ear as you shivered in anticipation. You were already wet for him. 

Goddamn. He already had you hooked

“Evenin’ darlin’,” Jay answered warmly on the third ring. 

“Hi,” you responded, beaming up at yourself in the mirror. Jeez all it took was a simple greeting from Jay to have you smiling from ear to ear. “How has your day been?” 

“It’s been alright. Even better now though.” He said, already flirting. 

“I’m wearin’ the blue lace lingerie we looked at last week.” You blurted, getting straight to the point. You usually talked about regular things, but you were pent up and needed him to do what he was perfect at and make you a soaking wet mess. 

“Ohh,” he exhaled sharply, “I wish I could watch you model it for me, Y/N.” He was always so good and going with the flow. He always made sure to give you what you needed. After all, that was what you were paying him for. It was left unspoken that you both forgot that this was a transaction a few months ago. 

“I bought a toy, too.” 

“What kind?” He perked up, even more interested.

“You got your laptop open?”

“Mmhmm.” he replied.

“Go to www.lovegasm.com.”

You listened to the pad of his fingers fall against the laptop keys as he followed your instructions. You ignored the fact that you were lowkey jealous of the keyboard that got to feel how his fingers felt against them. 

“Okay. I’m there.” 

“Click on the drop-down in the left hand corner.” 

“Okay.”

“Then click on ‘for women’ then select ‘dildos’.” you instructed, you slid off your shawl, moving over to the edge of the bed to give him and the page a few extra seconds to load before asking, “You there?”

“Yep. Which one am I looking for?”

“Right column. Sixth one down.” 

“I see,” he said, humming in excitement. 

“Look familiar?” You asked, giggling softly as you laid back on your bed, spreading your thighs. 

“A bit.” he admitted, unable to hide the smile in his voice. You could hear it clear as day. It was another small thing you looked forward to. 

“I can’t wait to feel yo—it inside me, Jay.” you caught yourself, but it was too late. He’d already heard you and his cock twitched in response. 

“No, you were right the first time, baby.” he said, kind of muffled, grunting softly as he raised his arms, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt. 

“I’m a bit thicker towards the top so we’re gonna have to finger you open, so that I can slide in perfectly.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to take off my panties?” 

“No,” he said, inhaling sharply. “Pull them to the side and rub your clit for me.”

You obeyed, pulling your panties to the side and slowly rubbed your clit with your middle finger, sighing softly. 

“How wet are you?”

“Honestly,” you breathed deeply, running a finger down your slick slit. “I’ve been wet for you all day, Jay.” He groaned deeply at your admission, thick cock swelling in his pants. 

“You’re gonna cum twice for me tonight, Y/N. First on my fingers, then on my cock.” 

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp. He knew you loved when he talked to you that way. It helped you get off even more. 

“Got it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Repeat it.” he demanded, growling softly in your ear. You stopped breathing for a second. Completely turned on by the rough tone he was taking with you. 

God he knew what you liked so well. 

“I’m cummin’ twice tonight. On your fingers, then on your cock.” You repeated, voice deep with arousal. You whimpered softly, rubbing faster as you felt that coil deep in your belly loosen a smidge. You were getting closer to the edge. 

“Good girl.” he praised, making you sigh deeply and even more of a puddle. 

“Slide a finger inside you,” he instructed, “Slow pumps.” 

You obeyed, pushing in your middle finger, massaging your folds gradually. Although the motion was effective, it wasn’t sufficient. It didn't push you very far at all. You needed more. 

“Can I add another finger, baby?” You asked, moaning louder as you rubbed your clit in wide slow circles, getting wetter by the second.

“Go ahead,” said Jay, granting you permission.

You added another finger, pumping faster. Now you were getting somewhere.

“Jay,” you moaned softly, grinding down on your fingers as you sped up just a little. 

“I love the way you moan for me.” he praised, grunting softly as he popped the button open on his jeans and unzipped them. The faint sound of his zipper being pulled down made your nipples harden almost painfully. 

“Shit Jay, I wish these were your fingers.” you admitted, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, shyness long gone. You closed your eyes, picturing Jay’s fingers inside of you, while his free hand held pressure on your lower stomach. You listened to him pull his jeans down some. 

“I know baby,” he groaned, palming his hard cock through his boxers, “So do I.” 

“Keep rubbin’ your clit for me,” like the good and dutiful girl you were, you obeyed, rubbing your bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles. Your other fingers were busy pumping in and out of your tight hole. 

It was weird at this angle, but you added a third finger and curled them up. Your thighs trembled as you fingered and rubbed yourself harder. Jay could hear how soaked you were for him and pulled his cock out, thumbing the bead of precum before stroking it lazily. You were always so wet for him and he oh so badly craved to taste it. 

He inhaled sharply before letting a single command fall past his lips, “Cum.” 

“Fuuuuck!” you moaned loudly as you came, body jerking against the bed as you worked yourself slower. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jay purred lowly, talking you through a well anticipated orgasm. “Let it out for me.” You were gonna have to change your sheets, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You were sex crazed. 

One down. One more to go. 

Jay’s hand locked down painfully on his cock, stopping himself from almost cumming. “Now grab my cock and put it in your mouth.” Jay said, taking a steadying, deep breath. The sounds you made when you came always got to him. The sinful whimpers and desperate grunts you let out damn near made him go feral with lust. 

You palmed the silicone cock and brought it to your lips, licking up the veiny shaft before taking it into your mouth. 

“Suck it, baby. Let me hear it.” He cupped his dick loosely, starting back up with slow strokes. He had to be careful. 

You sucked the head while simultaneously pulling on the base, making the tip tug at your plump lips.

“Mmhmm,” he moaned, encouraging you to take him deeper. You tilted your head to get a better angle and took the fake cock as deep as you could, bobbing your head up and down, moaning loudly. When you choked, Jay growled. “Fuuuck, baby! You take me so well.” 

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” Jay said, panting sharply, “I can hear it. Go ahead and push me in. I know that I’ll fit easily.” 

“Goddamnit Jay,” you cursed, letting the dildo fall from your stretched lips with a loud pop, slapping your inner thigh hard enough to leave it aching in the morning.

“What?” He asked, snickering softly because he already knew the answer. 

“You just always know what to say.” you praised, gasping softly as you pushed the cock inside you, all the way to the hilt. He was right. It stretched you, but you were so wet it didn’t even pinch. 

You pushed the silicone cock inside you deep and fast. It felt so fucking good. You paused your moans so you could hear Jay. You wanted to match his strokes. Once he realized what you were doing he sped up. 

“Yeah, that’s it, babygirl,” he praised, groans growing louder, “Fuck yourself just like that. Don’t stop.” 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, pumping yourself even harder. 

“Did I tell you that you could cum?” The harshness of his voice made you open your eyes and slow your movements just a tad. 

“Jay p—please, baby,” you moaned louder, begging him to let you cum. He loved teasing you and you loved that he loved it. 

“Please what, darlin’?” said Jay, amusement heavy in his tone. He knew exactly what you wanted. Needed. He was gonna give it to you, but you had to ask first. You had to beg for it. 

“Cum with me this time,” you coaxed, whole body shuddering just from hearing the downright filthy noise Jay just made. 

“Okay, babygirl,” he groaned lowly, breaths quickening as he pumped his cock nice and fast. “Whatever you want.” 

“I want you to cum with me,” you begged, head thrashing wildly against the pillows as the tip of the dildo brushed up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “I want to hear your moans mix with mine when we cum.” 

You sobbed as you started back rubbing your clit. The tight circling of your finger combined with the rapid thrusts from the dildo gave you a window of 30 seconds before you were cumming your brains out.

“That’s it, baby,” Jay snarled, hips jerking wildly up into his fist as he stroked his cock even faster. “Be a good girl and cum with me.” 

You came with a loud cry as your climax tore through you, back arching all the way off the mattress in sheer pleasure. Jay followed right behind you, cursing and whimpering as white ropes of cum landed on his belly and chest. You both panted harshly, together over the line as you recovered slowly from your intense orgasms.

“I think that was our best one yet.” he laughed warmly as he pulled a few tissues from the square box on his workstation to clean himself up. 

“Hell yeah it was,” you agreed, cheering weakly. Your arms were sore as hell and your legs still shook, but you felt amazing. You were on cloud nine, fully satiated. 

“Have a good night, darlin’,” Jay cooed, sleepily. “And good luck with your thesis.”

“Thanks. Night Jay.” You giggled softly, disconnecting the call, rolling over onto your side before drifting off to sleep.

The next few days were a breeze. You were in an advantageous mood thanks to Jay, and so you added four more pages to your thesis. You only had six pages left. 

On Saturday morning you woke up earlier than usual and decided to get dressed and head to your favorite coffee shop. The cafe was only a couple blocks away from your apartment so you walked there. You loved early morning strolls. The gentle wind dancing across your soft skin as the sun began to peak always made you feel alive. 

You left the cafe after the barista handed you your Assam Black tea and breakfast sandwich, while typing a text to one of your lab partners. You took a few steps without looking and collided with someone, dropping both your sandwich and your phone. Luckily, the grip you had on your tea did not falter.  

You both apologized at the same time.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I wasn’t even lookin' in front of me.”

“My apologies, darlin’.' ' the man said, bending down to pick up your squished sandwich and unscratched cell phone. 

That voice.

That voice you knew all too well. 

Especially on Wednesday nights.

A cold chill ran across your neck and down your back, “Jay?” you squeaked loudly, staring at him in disbelief as he stood back up with your items in his hands. He stretched out his hands to give them back to you only to stop short, eyes widening in utter shock when he realized what you had called him. 

The corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned briefly. It didn’t quite match his eyes at all. “Y/N, I take it?” 

“Yes,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. “Hi, Jay.”

“Hi.” he said, eyes blinking slowly as he stood there flabbergasted, still holding your belongings in his hands. 

“Nice to meet you.” you continued, extending your hand out for him to shake. 

He shifted your sandwich and phone to his left hand, grabbed your hand with his now-free hand, and shook it twice. “Nice to meet you, too Y/N.” he said, shooting you a toothy grin. God, his smile was to die for. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he checked you out, admiring the view. During your phone calls, he, too, fantasized about what you looked like. He was not disappointed.  

His palm enveloped yours. Damn his hands were large, you thought, gawking at him unapologetically. They were warm and had a few callouses. He must have used his hands a great deal for his other job. He never mentioned what he did for work. 

You hoped that bumping into him wouldn't ruin your Wednesday night dalliances. Maybe he'd be okay with talking somewhere less public. It was quite rowdy both inside and outside of the coffee shop.

“My apartment is two blocks away if you want to go somewhere more private so we can talk.” you babbled, no longer able to look at him in his intense, pecan brown eyes for too long due to your shyness coming at it at an all time high. Fuck he was intimidating. The confidence he exuded had your mouth watering. 

Christ, he was sex on a stick. The man only had on a dark gray shirt, blue jeans that hugged him in all the right places and working boots. A warm flush crept across your face and neck. Get it together, girl, you thought to yourself. He barely said two full sentences to you and you were already hot and bothered. To be fair, he’d been the only one to make you cum every week for the past five and a half months. 

He raised a thick eyebrow at your suggestion — you dropped his hand, gesturing wildly once you realized how your offer must have sounded. “I mean—fuck! I promise I’m not a weirdo, Jay.” 

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled, shaking his head fondly at you, “Joel,” he said. “My name is Joel.”

[leeofthevoid]

Cold-Blooded Beings- Part 1

Farleigh Start x Reader

a/n: Hey guys this is a multi-chapter thing, a little series I suppose and I'm excited to map it out. Hello! Had a few comments that wanted it changed to Y/N and I got you! Please let me know if I missed a few but I tend to not use the assigned name I did before. Just tell me if you guys also want some name specific Fic for you so I can make one shots! Big thanks to the people who pointed good stuff out!

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Strong language

Word Count: 1777

|| Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Money Makes The World Go Wild

Oxford was a dream come true. It was so difficult to actually get into the school without the help of your family’s wealth and earn your place, it was rewarding to finally get into it. 

It wasn’t until dinner time when you felt big arms wrap itself around your shoulders while you ate. “Look who we have here. N/N L/N.” What the hell? This voice was unrecognizable. What does this guy want with you? “I’m sorry um…Did I do something wrong?” The man looked confused and chuckled. “Y/N , it’s me Felix? Felix Catton? Cry Baby Fee?” 

You jolted back in surprise and your face turned from a slight scowl to surprise. You didn’t hesitate to jump and wrap your arms around him. “Fee! Holy shit you’re so big now! I barely recognized you!” You both laugh heartily as you pour out your happiness in the embrace. “How I miss you, I miss you so.” You pulled back to pepper his face with kisses and finally sat back down on your seat, huge smiles still plastered on your faces. “You’re so big now Fee! I can’t believe you’re the same little boy I had to carry when you scraped your knees.” Felix cringed slightly at the story but still smiled his heart out. “Well yeah, I’m not the little boy Catton you used to know. It’s so nice to see you N/N. Venetia would be so happy know you go here.” You pause and look around the dining hall looking around for the other Catton sibling. “Speaking of, where is she?” Felix leaned on the table and sighed, “Went to Cambridge in fear that I would ‘ruin’ her university experience.” It was so like Venetia to say that and you admired how they seemed to barely change. 

You ended up talking through dinner time about how you got into Oxford the way your family always went in. Felix teasing you about your strict family. How you both grew through the years and realized how you missed each other’s presence ever since your father threw you to Switzerland to attend boarding school after your last summer in Saltburn. You both exchanged numbers and a promise to Felix that you will for sure hangout with him and his friends. With a goodbye embrace that was too long for other people, you parted ways. 

It was hard being a Teacher’s assistant. When you settled after a few months into your summer term, your professor offered for you to help him tutor his students which you gladly agreed to for extra credit. You were now stuck in the room with Mr. Ware, this shy scholar kid named Oliver Quick, and another empty seat that the other student seemed to miss every session. It’s their fifth absence now. Oliver was in the middle of reading his essay out loud when you decided to take a quick bathroom break, waking up your professor in the process to at least pay attention to the poor guy. After a few minutes out, you’re met with a new person chatting with the tutor and Oliver sits back quietly. You got a better view of the new presence and saw a nice head of curly hair, fashionable clothes, and…No way. “Farleigh?” 

Oliver and Farleigh look up at you from the door and his eyes widen. “ Oh my god N/N!” He stood up and scooped you in a tight hug. Man, these Cattons sure love their hugs. “I thought Felix was fooling us when he mentioned a special childhood friend in Oxford.” He gently puts you down and backs away to sit next to Oliver again. 

“My, my. A L/N and a Catton? Oliver, you have quite the company.” Your Professor stated. You saw Oliver slowly back up in his chair more, feeling a tinge of pity for the guy. “Let’s start over, Sir. I believe we all have limited time.” You chime in. You all sat down and proceeded to listen to the essays Oliver was abruptly cut off. His work was too robotic and a little…Boring? You can’t help but try to wake the other two people up from time to time to at least alleviate the embarrassment Oliver had. When Oliver finally finished, you cleared your throat, signaling for Farleigh and Mr. Ware to at least look alive. Mr. Ware shared his thoughts and you did too, “I believe there was a lack of something in it, Oliver. I’m sure you’ll be able to revise it better so don’t worry too much.” Farleigh snorted at your kindness and blatantly told him the truth. It was a tensioned back and forth that you’d much rather not be apart of but what can you do? Farleigh was right but so was Oliver, you looked at Mr. Ware and he simply shook his head. “So! We had quite the session today, lads. Oliver, please take note of the changes Ms. L/N will send you, and Farleigh please write your essay too. Um…Send anonymous regards to your mum too please?” Farleigh winks at him and gives you a kiss on the cheek before he leaves the room. Oliver soon made a beeline out of the room and you followed after getting a few tasks from Mr. Ware.

After a few days, you came across Oliver walking alone through the courtyard. “Hey, Oliver!” He quickly looked around for the source and saw you waving at him. “Oliver! Fancy meeting you around and not in the office.” You smiled at him as you put out your hands out to shake. He took it and gave you a shy smile, “Ollie is alright. Y/N right?” You nodded. “So sorry about Farleigh, he always had a sharp tongue ever since we were kids, can I buy you a few drinks to apologize?” 

“No, no, c’mon now Y/N it’s not your fault. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to. I don’t need a reason to treat a friend out?” You smiled at him as he fiddled with his jacket deep in thought. “I suppose you it wouldn’t be bad…” You smiled again “See you later at the pub then. You know where right? Bring your friends Ollie!” Oliver hurriedly walked away with a small bounce of excitement as you slowly backed away bumping into something…Or someone. “Running a charity case, love?” Farleigh chuckled. You look up at him and roll your eyes with a slight smile. “Don’t be mean Far, I just thought he was a decent person to befriend.” 

“And where is Farleigh’s invite then?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you both walked. “Since when did you grow so mean? I remember you jumping up and down whenever I complimented you more than Felix.” Farleigh groaned at the memory as you laughed. “You know, being the oldest out of all of us had its perks, such as carrying both you and Fee when you were both so tiny! I felt so big next to you! Now look at you towering over me.”

“N/N, you sound like an old lady reminiscing about her children’s lives, I don’t miss that at all. If you’re coming to the pub with that bore of a person, come by at our table yeah? I’d hate for you to be lonely.” You chuckled as he kissed your cheek to walk off into who knows what. 

The pub had a really good atmosphere for a place swarmed with people in their early twenties dying to have some semblance of relief from school. You would even argue that The King of Arms was a decent place to have a date, even dressed nicely to appease the people you’ll hangout with. One problem is that you never anticipated the fact that Oliver could probably have no friends. Well, he had one, Michael, but the thing about Michael is he seemed to be so absorbed in his genius that he never did care to let you or Oliver talk. As much as you appreciate the boys not ogling at you with the usual stares you get from wearing provocative clothing, it was kind of pathetic that they didn’t at least compliment you perhaps? 

You excused yourself to get another round of drinks, on you of course. It kind of put you in a bit of a damper mood when Michael didn’t even acknowledge it, at least Oliver did but it still sucked. You approached the Barkeeper to bring you three pints of Pale Ale which he kindly nodded to. “What’s a pretty lady like you doing with losers like them?” You chuckled and looked up at the figure slowly sliding their hand on your waist. “Farleigh.” You lightly warned with a smile, “Cut them some slack. It’s probably their first time going out with people. I was like that when I started my summer term.” Farleigh simply rolled his eyes at your kindness thinking it was stupid. You notice how he seemed to still tower over you and that was something since you weren’t exactly short, five foot ten to be exact. You even had heels on for goodness sake! When did this small tiny boy grow so tall? 

You snap out of your trance when the door dings. You turned and saw Michael’s retreating figure, turned and checked the table you were occupying and found no signs of Oliver. Great, you just got ditched. “So…About my offer?” Farleigh’s tone was teasing and you can’t help but give in. With a sigh and a defeated huff you give in. “Fine Far, you win. What about the stuff I ordered?” 

He scoffs, “Thank you for buying me some, you’re a doll.” Farleigh says in a sarcastic manner, picks up the tray and brings it to the table while dragging you with him. You notice Oliver’s shy figure sitting beside Felix as Farleigh pulls a chair out for you. Paying no mind to the boy who just walked out of your table, you greeted everyone with a cheery expression even earning some wolf whistles from the guys sitting with you. “Y/N will apparently buy two rounds of drinks for us.” Farleigh teases. Everyone cheered making you roll your eyes at him. At least you get to use that allowance your dad finally said you earned.

After some time on the table, it still pissed you off that Oliver ditched you, he even avoided eye contact with you while talking to Felix. It’s alright, everything will be okay and you should just let this instance slide, you say to yourself. It was just an apology drink from Farleigh’s mean outburst and the subject of the event was right next to you making out with a girl on his other side. Don’t you just love university?

Next

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Eighteen

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some dark stuff pertaining to an abusive past relationship, attempted murder, and vague details of a car crash. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~4.4k

A/N : Set about a week after the last one! I'm honestly a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you like it! As always thanks so much for reading!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

The whole world came crashing down around you in a single moment. 

You didn’t realise until it was too late to stop it, until it was too late to change anything and avoid the inevitable consequences.

The private investigator took the envelope full of cash before sliding the file across the table to you, sparing you one last glance and a couple of words of warning before climbing out of the booth and heading towards the exit. Your gaze followed him out of the diner and onto the street, where he walked past -

Your heart stopped.

Frank.

He had his phone out, pointing right at you through the diner window, a mix of betrayal and disappointment on his face. It took a moment to figure out what was happening, for the penny to finally drop, but when it did, you felt your entire body fill with panic; he thought you were the security threat, the person who’d been digging into anvil over the last couple of months. 

Your heart started to race, knowing that he was going to tell Billy what he thought he’d seen, that he’d seen you paying off the PI who’d been snooping around Anvil. You scrambled out of the booth, almost tripping over your own feet, desperate to get to Frank and fix the situation before it spiralled out of control.

But he was already on the phone by the time you got outside. You kept the file clutched to your chest, holding it against you like a shield as you approached the imposing figure of Frank Castle, stomach knotting as you heard him speak.

“Yeah, Bill, I’ll deal with it,” his eyes fixed on you as you stopped in front of him. 

You waited in silence, for a moment thinking you could just about hear Billy’s voice on the other end of the phone before Frank hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.

“I’m gonna need you to give me that,” Frank said, holding out his hand, expecting you to hand the file over. 

“I can’t.” Because, despite everything that was happening, you knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t let anyone see the file, couldn’t let them know about your past.

“Y’know, the crazy thing is that I thought Bill was gonna be the one to break your heart, not the other way around,” Frank shook his head.

“You don’t understand -”

“Pretty sure I do,” he interrupted, not willing to listen to your explanations, “you’ve had your PI lookin’ into Anvil and Bill for weeks now, so give it up.”

“No, that’s not -” but you could already tell that he wasn’t going to listen to you, that he’d made up his mind. “I need to see Billy, I have to explain this to him.”

“That’s great ‘cause he’s already waiting at Anvil for you.”

You stared at him for a moment before realising that you had a choice to make - he couldn’t very well bundle you into his car in broad daylight, but you were aware how bad it would look for you if you refused to go with him. You’d just given up every single dollar to your name for the file in your hand and, now, you needed to make sure that it hadn’t all been for nothing.

“Okay,” you relented, “take me to Billy.”

Frank gave a grunt and nodded towards his truck. You followed after him, climbing into the passenger seat and keeping your eyes fixed forward. Once he’d started the engine, you reached for your phone, hastily typing up a message to Karen, wanting to try and explain what was going on before Frank told her.

“Who you texting?” Frank asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the road.

“Karen, I -” he snatched your phone before you could finish, your thumb managing to hit send on the half finished message as he pulled it away from you. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not draggin’ Karen into this shit,” he told you, his eyes returning to the road just in time to keep from running a red light - a sharp stop that caused your anxiety to spike even more, reminding you of the accident years ago. You were so distracted that you only caught the last half of what Frank was saying, “- when Bill’s done with you.”

You didn’t argue, didn’t ask him to repeat himself. You just wanted him to concentrate on the road. So, you remained silent, clutching the file to your chest and watching out the windscreen. The way he drove across the city made your heart race and your chest tighten, practically jumping out of your skin with every screech of brakes or honk of a horn.

And, when you reached Anvil some fifteen minutes later, you were quick to scramble out of the truck, almost gasping for breath.

He gave another grunt, indicating that you should follow him and, stupidly, you did just that. You didn’t realise that anything was wrong until you were in the elevator and realised that you were being taken down to the basement level instead of up to Billy’s office.

“Why aren’t we going to Billy’s office?” You asked, dread already starting to coil in your stomach.

“Bill doesn’t want you in his office,” Frank answered as the doors slid open, revealing a cold and terrifying looking corridor.

“I want my phone back.” You told him, unable to stop the fear from filling your tone.

“Told you, you can have it back when Bill’s done with you,” he motioned for you to start moving and, with no other option, you did.

When the elevator doors slid shut, your thoughts started to spiral to dark places you didn’t want them to go, to memories of feeling trapped and powerless. A lump rose in your throat and tears were already starting to sting your eyes as your footsteps echoed down the long hallway. When Frank stopped and opened a door, you let him usher you inside before you realised your mistake.

The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped and alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. Had your state of mind been better, you might have realised that the room was used for training new recruits and conducting interviews but, since you were panicking, all you could think was that you were going to be trapped there until you confessed to all of the things you hadn’t done.

You turned back to the door quickly, pulling at the handle. You weren’t surprised to find it locked, but it did nothing to stop the panic that was raging inside of you.

The room had a long metal table and two chairs, one on either side, but you didn’t move to sit. You couldn’t move at all, terror had you rooted in place, your fingers still tightly gripping the file against your chest. There was a camera blinking in the corner of the room and you felt your stomach drop; was Billy watching you right now, could he see the terror on your face? (And, if he could, why wasn’t he coming to help you?)

Minutes passed before Billy stepped into the room. You stayed frozen as he stepped around you and you waited - you waited for him to tell you that this was all some big mistake, that he knew you’d never do the things Frank had accused you of. But it never came. As he took a seat, your eyes closed tight, silently willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

Another minute passed in total silence, like he was waiting for you to speak first and dig your own grave, but you couldn’t even look at him, much less form the words you needed to explain all of this to him.

“Just give me the file,” he finally said.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, eyes still closed tight.

“Who are you working for?” There was something cold in his voice, something broken and full of pain and, despite everything he was putting you thought, some part of you longed to comfort him.

“No one, I’m not -”

“Don’t lie to me!” The sound of his open palm hitting the surface of the table caused you to flinch, your eyes opening as you took a step back and pressed yourself against the wall, needing to put as much distance between you and Billy as possible. “You paid someone to look into Anvil, into me.”

“No, that’s not what happened! You don’t understand -”

“What were you after; finances? Mission details? How much were you getting paid?” His tone got sharper with every word.

“I wasn’t after anything, that’s not what this is. It’s not about Anvil -” you tried desperately still, somehow, holding onto some small glimmer of hope that you could fix things before they got too broken.

 “Bullshit!”

“Please, Billy,” you struggled to find the words in your panic, “you promised that you’d trust me, that you’d -”

“I did trust you!”

His use of the past tense caused something to break inside of you, and you felt a sort of pain that you hadn’t felt in years, the sort of pain that could only be inflicted by someone you loved.

“Stop, please, Billy just -” you tried again, blinking back tears.

Everything was falling apart around you, the future you’d let yourself hope for was slipping away; you were going to move in with him, you were going to go work for The Bulletin, and you were finally going to start rebuilding your life after so many years of just existing and scraping a living. All your dreams were dying all at once, all because he wouldn’t listen to you, because he couldn’t trust you.

Some part of you knew that if you could just find the words, you’d be able to make him understand, but your panicked, racing mind couldn’t focus enough to say or do anything to help fix things.

“How long?” He asked coldly, ignoring your tears. “How long have you been lying to me, using me?”

“I wasn’t lying! Why won’t you listen to me? Why can’t you trust me?” You heard yourself begging desperately.

“Because you’ve been lying to me for months!” His voice got louder, sharper, and you no longer recognised the man in front of you. This wasn’t your Billy, this was someone else entirely. “You know, you really had me fooled, pretending to be this wounded little thing, acting like you wanted me, like we had something.”

“It wasn’t an act!” You managed to raise your voice to match him, desperate to make him listen, to convince him that you still cared, but Billy didn’t even seem to hear it. “Please, just - just let me explain. I can explain this.”

“Explain what? That none of this was real? That you tricked me into wanting you so you could get close enough to stab me in the back? Did you get paid extra to fuck me or was jumping into my bed just part of the game for you?” You could still hear the pain in his tone, but the moment Billy said those words to you, something inside of you snapped.

Your stomach continued to tie itself in knots. You hated every little thing about this, hated how he thought you were as bad as all of the other people who had used him and lied to him to get what they wanted. But your pain quickly started to turn to anger - he wasn’t the only one who’d ever been hurt, he wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to and used. As hurt as Billy obviously was by this whole situation, he’d broken his promises to you; he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t hear you out, wouldn’t trust you.

You were being blamed for something you hadn’t done and you were going to lose everything because of it. Again.

“You think I jumped into bed with you?” Your tone turned sharper, colder, and more certain - because, in all of this, if you were certain of one thing, it was that you did not just jump into bed with him. Finally you had his attention, just in time for you to tell him; “falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Billy. And you’ve just managed to prove why it was such a stupid idea.”

It was the first time you’d dared utter that you loved him aloud, but you were no longer scared of how he was going to react to the revelation or how vulnerable it would make you feel. It was too late to care about any of that. You’d come to Anvil hoping to save things with Billy but that dream was now over. 

And, for the first time since all of this began, you realised that the truth of your past couldn’t hurt you anymore. It didn’t matter if Billy knew because he’d already given up on you, whatever was between you was over now, and everything you’d done to try and preserve it had been for nothing.

“Fine,” you relented, forcing yourself to step away from the wall and towards the table. Once you were close enough you slammed the file down in front of him so hard that its contents spilled out across the table; photographs of you, notes about your work, your friends and your finances. 

Billy’s eyes dropped, quickly looking over it, starting to move things, rummaging through the paperwork, trying to make sense of it.

“It was never about you or Anvil. He was looking for me. And I just spent every penny I had paying him off so I wouldn’t have to leave New York, so I wouldn’t have to leave you. But I guess the jokes on me, because you don’t even care enough to keep your promises to me and just listen for five fucking minutes.” By the time you’d finished, you had to cover your mouth to try and suppress the sobs that were desperate to escape you.

Billy stayed silent, rifling through the pages and photographs in front of him, seeming to become more frantic with every passing second as he looked for something, anything, to prove that he hadn’t just destroyed your relationship for nothing.

You watched him for a second, knowing exactly what he’d find in the file, and knowing the questions he’d inevitably have for you when he found the details of your sister's death, and the car crash that had left you scarred. But it was too late for any of that now, he’d lost any right to ask anything about your past.

Moving back to the door, you gave the handle a sharp tug, even though you were pretty certain that the door was still locked.

“Wait -” his broken tone caused you to bristle. Where once you would have felt compassion, you now only felt anger.

“Let me out.”

“I don’t understand,” he told you, as he got to his feet and started to move towards you, his expression one of confusion instead of anger. You held up a hand, wanting him to keep his distance and Billy stopped. In his hand he was holding a copy of the photograph that he’d seen on your bedside table all those weeks ago, the photo of you and your siblings as children. “Please, help me understand this. I want to understand.”

“Which part, Billy? The part where you refused to listen, when you wouldn’t hear me out, when you wouldn’t trust me like you promised?” A hand scrubbed at your cheek, desperately trying to wipe away your tears, not wanting him to see just how much he’d wounded you. “Or the part where you thought so little of me that you thought I was fucking you just to get information on your company?”

“I didn’t know, I -”

“You wouldn’t let me explain!” You yelled and it was Billy’s turn to flinch at your tone. “I gave up everything I had to get that file, and now it doesn’t even matter. None of this matters anymore.”

“It matters, it -” he tried, obviously struggling for words, “- why didn’t you tell me?

“Why didn’t you believe me?” you threw back at him. ”Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Do you even trust anyone?”

“I’m sorry, I never -”

“Just - just stop. It’s too late.” You shook your head. It hurt too much and every word, every plea that left him only made the ache in your chest feel worse. “You promised me that you’d listen. I trusted you and you ruined it. You’ve ruined us.” 

“No... don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” His voice continued to crack and break, and it was almost enough to make you want to back down, but you knew you couldn’t. Not after this. He’d broken his promise to you and left you feeling more wounded and alone than you’d ever felt. “I’m sorry, let me fix this, sweetheart, please.”

“Fix this?” You almost managed to laugh through the tears. “There is no fixing this, Billy. You’ve ruined it. You broke my heart.”

“No, no... please, I -” for a moment he looked at you like those three little words were on the tip of his tongue, like he was ready to confess his love, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Just stop. You don’t get to fight for me, Billy. Not now. Not after this.” You told him angrily. “I told you I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me.”

“You said you fell in love with me,” the words came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear them.

You could see the thinly masked distress on his face, the pain and misery that you’d managed to cause with that one, silly admission. You hated yourself for blurting it out like that, like you were some character in a soap opera or some shitty romance novel. And, if he’d been anyone else, you might have been angrier at his obliviousness to your feelings - of course you’d fallen in love with him, it had been so fucking obvious - but Billy had always been honest with you; he didn’t know love, didn’t understand it. All the people who were supposed to love him and abandoned him.

But not you. That was not what this was. You weren’t abandoning him, he’s pushed you to breaking point. This time it was Billy’s fault.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” You dared to ask, not even bothering to try and hide your pain anymore. “I’m not like you, Billy, I can’t just turn off my emotions whenever things get difficult.”

“You love me?” He took a step closer, the look on his face suggesting that he still thought that there was some way that he could fix things.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me, please, I -”

The door opened and, before he could finish that thought, you were rushing back out into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and Billy as possible. He followed after, your name dying on his lips when he saw Karen and Frank standing there.

“Sorry, Bill, she -” Frank started, looking at Karen who was now holding your phone.

“You’re both assholes,” she stated and neither man dared argue with her. Obviously, thankfully, she’d managed to figure out what was going on and where you were just from the half of a text message that you’d managed to send before Frank had confiscated your phone. 

Her arm quickly pulled around your shoulders and she started to lead you towards the elevator while you tried to choke back tears. You didn’t dare look back until you were in the elevator; Billy looked heartbroken, following after you but keeping his distance.

“Please, I -” he tried.

“You’ve done enough, Billy. Just leave her alone.” Karen snapped as the doors slid shut and, a moment later, the floodgates opened and you started to sob uncontrollably, knowing that you’d lost everything.

TWO HOURS EARLIER.

Your heart was racing, thumping out a painful and uneven beat in your chest.

When Karen had told you that a private investigator had been asking around about you at The Bulletin, you’d put things together pretty quickly. You had her set up a meeting later that morning for you, hoping that you could fix things before they got out of control, even though your every instinct told you to pack a bag and get out of New York as quickly as you could.

You didn’t want to have to run, you didn’t want to leave the life that you were starting to build in the city. You didn’t want to leave the man that you loved.

Before heading to the diner to meet the PI, you stopped at the bank, withdrawing every penny that had, hoping that it would be enough, hoping that you could pay him off and fix everything before things spun out of control.

He was already waiting in the diner when you arrived, sitting in a booth by the window; a grizzled looking guy, well into his forties, who’d obviously been in the PI game for decades. As you slid into the seat opposite him, you felt your guts start to twist with a mix of anxiety and fear.

“If I’d known that this was the quickest way to get you out of hiding, I’d’ve done it weeks ago,” he stated before you’d even gotten comfortable. “I take it you wanted to meet to make me an offer?”

You took a breath, trying to steady your still-racing heart. “How much would it cost for you to go back to Florida and pretend you couldn’t find me?”

He almost seemed shocked that you knew where he was from for a second, but it was quickly hidden behind a lazy sort of smile.

“More than you’ve got,” he stated and your heart sank. “I’m a little surprised that you don’t seem surprised by any of this.”

“I’m not,” you offered, already feeling like you were wasting your time. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Scott started looking for me. Did he tell you why - did he tell you why he wants to find me?”

“No, and I didn’t bother to ask - usually don’t when the money’s this good.” He shrugged before sitting forward in his seat. “Go on then; what’d you do to this guy? I figured you either broke his heart or you took something of his. Must’ve been something big for you to spend these last few years running all up and down the country.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you voice cracked at how helpless you suddenly felt, “He tried to kill me, and that’s probably why he wants me back.”

That seemed to unsettle the PI and you decided to use it to your advantage.

“I take it you know about the accident?” You asked and the PI gave an awkward sort of nod, not knowing what point you were going to try to make. “It wasn’t an accident, he deliberately swerved the car off the road because I’d finally told him that I was leaving him.” Your voice continued to crack, threatening to break. “He pulled himself out of the car and left me there to die. I had to crawl through fire and broken glass to save myself,” you rolled up your sleeve, letting him see the scars, along with the sickening S that Scott had carved into your skin. “That’s why he wants to know where I am. He wants to finish the job.”

The PI let out a slow exhale and it was more than obvious from the way he shifted in his seat that he hadn’t been expecting that story, that he’d been lied to and used by Scott.

A trembling hand wiped at your eye, you were determined not to cry despite everything you’d just been forced to reveal.

“Look, I feel for you, but this is a big payday and -”

You reached into your purse and quickly placed the envelope on the table between you.

“That’s everything I have,” you told him, sniffing back tears, “you can have it all, just - please, give me the file and don’t tell him I’m here. I just want to be able to live my life. I don’t want to have to start over again.”

“You’d leave that rich boyfriend of yours?” He asked, like he almost didn’t believe what you were trying to tell him.

“If I had to. But I don’t want to. Scott has already stolen years of my life, please don’t help him take more. There’s just over fifteen grand in that envelope, I know it’s not a lot but -”

Your heart threatened to stop as he picked up the envelope and started thumbing through the stack of notes inside.

“This is everything you’ve got,” he stated with the certainty of someone who’d looked into your accounts. “You’re willing to give up everything just to make sure this guy doesn’t find you?”

“Yes...”

The moment that followed seemed to linger for an eternity; him looking at you like he was trying to decide what to do, while you stared back, silently praying to any god that might listen to you. 

There was no holding back the relieved sob that slipped from you when he finally put the envelope in his pocket and slid the file across the table to you.

“I’ll tell him I lost track of you after the six months you spent in Chicago.”

“Thank you.

He gave something of a grumble as he started to pull his coat on and got to his feet, ready to walk away, but something made him stop. “Y’know, that boyfriend of yours isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. I’d be careful if I were you - and, maybe, you should ask him where his mother is.”

He didn’t give you the chance to ask what he meant, before he turned and left the diner, your gaze following him out the door and onto the street, watching as walked right past Frank Castle, who was holding his phone and photographing the entire exchange. 

Chapter Nineteen

END NOTES : Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok so this is probably the chapter than I've been most nervous about so I hope people enjoy the drama and angst! I know this probably wasn't what people were expecting from this chapter, but I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything for future chapters.

As always thanks so much for reading and sticking with this, it really does mean the world to me!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

TAG LIST

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[hugemilkshake]

.....like can I send in a cookie run kingdom prompt thing? If so here is one...and I'd like this to be a one-shot plz! Also your writing with your other stories are good so don't stress too much about this! I'm sure you'll be fine! And if ya want feel free to ignore it.

So I got this idea while reading some self aware au fics...where reader is taken from the human world and brought into the cookie world.

The reader, a selfless workaholic, was working like always but then gets taken into the world of cookies! They were surprised they ended up in the cookie run world and decide to try their best in this amazing new world they loved, ready to work hard for the cookies to keep em happy and so on....buuuut that's when they discover how much the cookies love em. They start doing everything for y/n so that way y/n could finally rest and relax. You can go crazy with whatever scenarios you want of y/n trying to do stuff for the cookies buuut cookies stop y/n so y/n stops working or of cookies spoiling the hell out of y/n. Like cookies do their best to make sure y/n is happy, safe and relaxed. Also throw in whatever cookies encounters and stuff you want!

Hope you have fun with it and feel free if you don't feel up to it!

I hope you enjoy the milkshake! Now I might not be the best at writing self aware stuff since this is my first time writing it

Just relax

-self aware AU-

-platonic-

Part 2, part 3

Another long day of work… you rested your head before feeling a vibration from your phone. It was a coworker… asking if you could take their shift…. Again…

Ugh… did they not see that you were tired? But you couldn’t say no… you just couldn’t…

You had some time before having to return to work so you scrolled through the App Store until you came across a cute game franchise called Cookie Run. You decided to buy three of the games, the one that caught your attention was Cookie Run: Kingdom.

It was so charming, the way you could interact with the cookies and decorate your own kingdom was so nice, and in over a month you had gotten all the cookies and decors, which sounds a little crazy but this game was kinda like your escape from your job.

But with this you had gotten very very fatigued. You couldn’t remember when the last time you had a proper meal… or a full night of sleep… or when you saw your family last… or when you didn’t have to work… or when your friends talked to you last…

You were practically on the verge of breaking down, the only thing’s keeping you from going insane was the silly cookie games on your phone.

Now… you might’ve been going crazy but you swear that the cookies were talking to… like directly. It could be sleep deprivation making you hear things but it was still very odd.

But you might’ve hit a breaking point. You finally passed out. You had just gotten a notice that you were getting evicted from your apartment and you didn’t really have anything so all you did was clean up any trash that was left around, and by the time you were done it was midnight and your boss had the AUDACITY to ask you to do even more work… at that point you passed out. Either from exhaustion or stress it was probably both tbh

…

But when you woke up you weren’t in your apartment.. you were in a comfortable bed.. that had… candy like details…? You tried to get up and out of the bed but someone quickly jumped up and had you lay back down.

“Please son’t sit up too fast! You’re exhausted. You shouldn’t be moving too much, here let me get you some food, just wait here…” A gentle voice told you…. It was also familiar…

The person returned and set a tray right next to the bed, you saw that they looked familiar…

“I hope your not in any pain… I’m Strawberry Cookie by the way…” Strawberry Cookie spoke “Please just try to relax…”

You tried to speak but your throat hurt a lot… like to an unnatural degree.. but you were quite hungry so you decided to take a bite out of one the the star jellies i front of you. Now when you took a bite… something clicked in your head.

You thought you were dreaming but this felt way to real… the bed.. the food.. everything was too real.

And the realized you felt sore.. not just your throat hurt, everything hurt. You went to rub your temples but your skin felt less oily and more… doughy..?

You wanted answers and Strawberry Cookie was aware of this, so she started to speak once more.

“…I know your probably really confused about what’s happening and I am too… but it’s important for you to not get up and move around… your dough is still getting used to the temperature..”

Dough… what…? What was happening…?

“Just… please don’t stress to much… try to relax… please..?”

…

So you were a cookie now..

Interesting

Well it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be

I mean- you can’t walk and talking is a little difficult but you’re treated like royalty

Like you try to get up and do something and Strawberry Cookie has to guilt trip ask you to lay back down

But Strawberry Cookie wasn’t the only one who visited you

Gingerbrave, Wizard Cookie and Custard Cookie the lll visited you the most

Strawberry Cookie try’s to make sure your feeling alright and gets you food

Gingerbrave tells you what’s currently happening in EarthBread and, you kinda knew what was happening but hearing it more in detail was a little frightening

Wizard Cookie tries to understand how someone your age could have dough as soft as your- and by soft I mean dough like.

And Custard Cookie the lll just talks about how he’s going to be a great prince king and how fun some of the adventures he’s been on!

But out of all of them, the one thing they had in common was making sure you didn’t get up to do anything

You physically cannot do anything without someone making a fuss over it

It was actually kinda nice…

[yesimwriting]

Sick Day

Set in the Final Girl universe, but it is a stand alone fic that can easily be read with no context :)

Summary: Billy and Stu don’t get why they’re so antsy about the latest addition to their friend group being absent from school. Sure, they talk about her more than they talk about anyone else, but not seeing her for one day isn’t enough to justify panic, right? Guess that doesn’t matter, because they find a way to justify checking in anyways.

a/n if you haven’t read final girl and this makes you curious,, the main fic and extras can be found here: Final Girl Series 

fun fact, this is chronologically set at some point after ‘first impressions’ but before the main series, if you haven’t read either that’s fine, it’ll still make sense, i just like building “lore” lol 

also if there are any typos i’m sorry, i’m stuck wearing a wrist brace for a little while, especially while writing

also this was really fun to write so i might do some more mini fics in the final girl universe in between full chapters, it’s more low stakes and is a good way for me to work on adding to their dynamics,, so if you have any ideas/requests for final girl universe specific stuff pls feel free to ask! 

----

It didn’t take Billy long to realize that part of your appeal comes from the fact that you’re not as predictable as everyone else. Maybe it’s because you’re still new, but that’s easy in Woodsboro, where lifelong friendships are practically assigned by the locker you’re given on your first d of middle school.

You’re also a contradiction. Almost everything you’re feeling is visible on your face, but what you’re thinking isn’t as easy to guess. It balances you out, keeping you from being unknown enough to be threatening but still letting you pop enough to keep you from blurring into the background. 

That’s part of the reason he picked up on your routine so quickly. What he knows about you isn’t as concrete as what he has on the people that are a part of his plan, but he knows enough. More than he intended to. He memorized your classes without meaning to and knows the time you get to school and the approximate time you leave. It’s useful, he tells himself, you’re around Sidney and Tatum all the time and him and Stu are still working on fitting you into the plan.

Sure, they’ve decided that you fit as their potential final girl, but it’s rocky. You bring out something panicky in him and some days it’s too much to be around you and know you have the ability to affect him. It’s not the same, not at all, but Billy can’t help the way it reminds him of what his mom’s distance used to make him feel. At risk. And Billy knows Stu, knows that he probably thinks about you twice as much as he brings you up and that there’s such a thing as Stu liking someone too much. 

When there’s uncertainty, it’s easy to fall back on routine, and you stick to a relatively simple one. You get to school riding close to late more often than not, during your study hall you tend to study outside unless Randy doesn’t use it as an excuse to leave early, then you bother him in the library (something Billy doesn’t get), and you take a little longer at your locker at the end of the day. Billy also knows you’re not one to skip. 

You’re never not at school (which may or may not have lead to an increase in the regularity of Stu and Billy’s attendance). You’re too hyper focused on your grades to not show up without a reason. So when Billy passes by your locker right before the home room bell rings and you’re not there it’s weird.

Billy knows you really must not be here when his eyes land on Stu, who’s staring at your locker. Stu walks you to most of your classes and always walks you to homeroom. 

“She’s not here,” Billy summarizes flatly. 

Stu turns his head, a little unsure. “Or she went to class without me.” 

The jab would be subtle to anyone else, but Billy knows what Stu’s getting at. “She’d still be at her locker, she’s always running late in the morning.” Billy focuses on hearing his words, tries to feel them. “We can check her homeroom.” 

A casual enough suggestion. Still not overly concerned. Stu has to walk past your classroom to get to his anyways and Billy takes that route sometimes. With that justification, the two walk down the hall and peak through the door’s long window as un-notably as possible. You’re not in your usual spot, at the desk right behind Casey Becker, who you talk to from time to time (a potential future problem they’re both aware of).

By lunch, it’s confirmed that you never showed up. You’re not in the first period you have with Stu or the third period you have with Sidney and Billy. Tatum brings it up first. Where’s Y/n? Sidney shrugged and mumbled about how you weren’t in second period today. It only took a minute for the girls and Randy to brush over your absence with a simple she must be sick. 

That got under Billy’s skin a little and he couldn’t figure out why. You’re almost weirdly into the whole school thing--everyone here could likely list your top 3 colleges--and stubborn. Even if you’re only absent because you’re sick, you must be pretty knocked out to not be here. But why should he care about you being really sick or your friends being relatively dismissive? 

“Isn’t she a little...Annie Wilkes about school?” Stu’s question comes out casually enough.

Randy looks up, “She’s not that bad.”

Stu blinks, forcing himself to stay in the moment. Randy was quick to defend you even though Stu’s seen him call you worse to your face. Maybe that back and forth is a sad attempt at flirting. “Easy, no one’s saying anything bad about your girlfriend.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“Knock it off, Stu, they’re basically related,” Billy forces the words out as casually as he can manage.

Sidney picks up on the joke, mumbling some comment about how they do sort of act like siblings, which gets Tatum off on some tangent about her brother. The conversation doesn’t circle back to the person that’s missing.

In the english class you share with Billy and Stu, the teacher hands back an old essay and gives out a homework packet. The two of them exchange a look. That’s a good enough excuse to stop by your house...if they...wanted to, which they don’t because it’s not like your absence is that relevant.

Billy talks to the teacher after class anyways, saying that he could make sure you get the graded essay and homework. You’re friendly enough that he’s sure he’ll be able to get it to you before you come to class and it’s never a bad idea to have options. Stu doesn’t say anything when Billy gets the papers and neatly places them in a folder. 

----

There’s all this energy and there’s no real outlet for it. Stu doesn’t know what it is, he can’t tell what he wants to do with it or what’d make it feel better. He’s felt versions of it all day, having it drop and morph into an off-brand version of that dark, craving feeling he gets at the thought of feeling a knife plunge into someone and rise back up to an antsy-ness that’d better fit a kid in line for a ride at a theme park.

The energy reaches its peak on the front steps of your porch, but the feeling doesn’t settle on a particular charge. It remains focused on the more positive side of the spectrum, but it’s undercut by some of the urgency of the other urge. 

He had been the first one to bring it up after school, when Billy and him were finally alone. It had started relatively detached, things are still weird when they mention you outside of certain contexts. They’re so used to being open about other things that the fact that they’re both almost shy about something--someone--is twisting. It’s a feeling they’re still learning to take in larger doses. 

They had spent a little too long trying to find an angle to justify a pop in to themselves. It’s one thing to think about you, to talk about you, to like you even. But it’s something else entirely to openly care. To worry about why you’re missing school or if you’re sick. 

Eventually, want won and Billy finally said something that stuck. She can’t be a final girl if she’s dying, and we need her to trust us, to like us. 

This is stupid. A flaring feeling in Billy’s chest has been yelling at him to stop since the idea first formed his mind. It’s a distorted echo of his father’s voice. 

Billy swallows once, forcing himself to finally knock. The only thing more pathetic than what he’s doing is lingering, coming here and then turning back. 

The seconds pass and with each of them, they both feel worse about their decision. And then they hear the lock click and the front door opens and they see you. 

You look more tired than usual and the blanket that’s practically swallowing you whole makes you seem smaller, more vulnerable even though you’re more covered than usual. You squint at the sunlight in a way that makes them think you’ve spent the day in intentionally dimly lit spaces. It takes you a second, but once you finally register them, it’s visible. You’re grinning, practically beaming. 

Billy feels the reaction in his chest. It strains uneasily beneath his ribs, not much unlike what he imagines a heart palpitation could feel like. He briefly thinks he might be able to hold the discomfort against you, but even that thought mostly fades. 

Stu’s flooded with the strange desire to wrap you up in bundles of blankets the way that his mom used to when he was younger. The few times it happened, it was weirdly comforting. He can’t remember the last time she took the time to make sure he was warm until his fever broke, but he knows his dad put a stop to it at an early age. Too needy, too dependent.

“Hi?” It’s partially a question, and your voice hints at raspiness. 

Snapping back into reality, Billy answers, “You weren’t at school.” Your eyebrows draw together and Billy realizes that that wasn’t the easy reaction he thought it’d be. It’s too open and implies concern. 

“Yeah, I kinda have a cold-fever-something. It’s a bug my mom brought home from work. I thought she was being dramatic, but it totally knocked me out.” You lean against your front door. If you sense either of their conflicts, you give no indication of it. “Karma, I guess.” 

Stu lets out a laugh at that. “Karma? You were that mean?” 

Your lips pull into an almost-smile. “The universe seemed to think so.” 

“You think the universe gave you a punishment cold, but your mom’s the dramatic one?” Stu’s biting down a grin, all concerns about showing up melting. 

You glare halfheartedly, “You can’t be not-on-my-side when I’m sick. That’s like...against friend...rules.” Your eyebrows draw together. “That was--that was really lame, forget I said that.” 

The reaction is so warm and you’re doing your best even though you’re clearly still not feeling well and Billy feels an awful swell of what’s likely fondness. “Not sure I want to.” 

Rolling your eyes, you relax even more of your weight against the doorframe. The shift is small, but Billy can’t help but note it. Are you just being casual or are you that tired? “You’re both here to cause problems.” 

“We’re here to be nice.” The look on your face says you might be a little out of it but you haven’t lost IQ points. “We got our essays back and some homework. Billy picked up yours and I drove him to school, and because one day felt way too long to go without seeing you...”

Your laugh is punctuated by a brief cough you burry into your elbow. It’s not like you’re coughing up a lung, but it is a little concerning. “You guys grabbed my stuff?” 

The genuine surprise in your voice sticks out. “Yeah,” Billy slides his backpack off of his shoulders and starts unzipping it, “One of those friend rules.” 

Billy finds his folder as you roll your eyes. “Funny.” 

“It’s what I’m known for,” he keeps his voice flat, and the sarcasm feels a little off, but you smile and that makes it a little easier.

He hands you the papers, his fingertips brushing against yours. “I see why.” 

“I never get that many gold stars.” Stu leans forward, re-reading some of the notes scribbled on next to your grade. “Maybe you should invite me over, tutor me...”

Your nose wrinkles. “Shut up.” By now they’ve learned that that’s the closest you’ll come to retreating.

Stu exaggerates a frown, “What? Bringing you your stuff doesn’t get us invited in?” 

The redirect is a bit of a stretch, but you’re used to the jumps and you’re tired enough to not read much into it. Not as much as Billy does, who’s a little surprised because he and Stu never talked about what they’d do after. He decides that it’s harmless enough. 

Turning your head a little, it almost feels like a part of you forgot there was anything to be invited into. “I don’t want to get you guys sick.” 

It’s such a you response. Always considerate, polite. Billy looks past you and into the house. There’s no noise indicating that anyone’s in there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. Though the one time he came over to work on a project, he briefly met your mother and was given the impression that she likes making her presence alone. There’s also your mother’s boyfriend, who wasn’t around when Billy came over but based on your comments, he’s not sure being alone with him isn’t worse than being alone. 

“Are you okay?” The question comes out of Billy a little unexpectedly. “You don’t look too...” 

You glare. “Thanks.”

“Not like--” Billy cuts himself off with a sigh. Your eyebrows pinch together briefly. “You look too sick to be alone. At least say your mom’s here.” 

Billy takes in the details of your reaction even though he already has a good idea on what you lying looks like. Harmless, white lies often used to seem more okay with things than you actually are. He sees something similar in the way your chin tilts upwards slightly. “I’m fine.” 

That’s all the confirmation Billy needs. You’re definitely alone. The lack of lie and attempt at dismissal is oddly endearing, especially while you’re like this, leaning against the front door and squeezing your blanket a little tighter. Wait--are you colder? It’s warm out today and there’s not even a breeze. 

A half thought embeds itself beneath Billy’s skin. He gives in, extending an arm slowly. You’re just as confused until Billy’s turning his hand so that the back of his palm is facing you. “I’m--Billy, it’s--” 

The cutoff of your words is sudden, your lips still partially parted, some other jumble of words dying in the back of your throat as Billy’s hand meets your forehead. You don’t move away. It’s been a few seconds, definitely long enough for Billy to have deduced whether or not you have a fever. How did his mom use to do this? 

He takes his time dropping his arm back to his side. Billy doesn’t have too many references to what a fever feels like on someone else, but you did feel warm. “You have a fever.” 

You press your lips together briefly in a forced pout. “You’re worse than my mom.” The blanket is slipping off of your shoulders, you tug it back up. “I’ll take some Tylenol, find a jar of vapor rub.” Angling your head to glance behind you again, you’re returning to that awkward uncertainty. 

The small dismissal digs at them both. It’s bad enough that they let themselves get to this point over one absence and here you are, alone and unwell and completely okay with sending them away. “You sure you’re good here?” 

This time you’re considering it. The proof of the deliberation is there in your silence. More often than not it takes you two or three offers to accept anything you think is an inconvenience. You’re nice to a point of fault. “I’m okay, because no one dies of fever, but if hanging out for a little and seeing absolutely nothing happen to me makes you guys feel better, that’d be cool. But you need to be careful.”

Stu grins, “I thought no one dies of a fever.” 

You take a step back, offering some space for them to pass, “I hope you get this, I think you could use a karma cold.” 

“Now I see why you have one,” Stu mumbles, pretending to be more annoyed than he feels as he steps into your house as you turn your head to stick your tongue out at him. 

Billy follows, lingering in your doorway before shutting your front door. You’re approaching the kitchen, turning your head to look Billy in the eye, “What do you think? Stu deserve one?” 

He briefly pretends to debate, “Worse.” 

You laugh at the irritated sound Stu lets out at the back of his throat. “Do you guys want anything?” They swear they’re fine as you pour yourself a glass of water and use it to down two tylonel tablets. “If my mom gets back from work and thinks I haven’t offered you guys anything to eat or drink, I’m not hearing the end of it.” 

“We’ll defend you.” Stu rests his weight against the kitchen counter, noting the bottle of cough syrup still out. “You need this?” 

You shake your head immediately. “I took some earlier and still feel foggy. I slept most of today.” 

Stu runs his thumb over the white cap, watching it spin without coming off. He considers pushing. Billy changes the subject before Stu has fully made up his mind, “You would be the type to have the most boring sick day.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re offended, and it’s oddly soft. “I didn’t just sleep.” 

Billy’s amused enough to press, “What else did you do?” 

“I think I know...” There’s a smugness in Stu’s voice that instantly floods you with embarrassment. Oh no. He’s found them. You snap your head up in time to see Stu holding up some of the tapes you left stacked on the counter. “Beverly Hills 90210, the first four seasons.” 

Billy looks right past you and focuses on Stu. “Only four?” 

“Uh--” You’re caught. “Five’s on right now...and I don’t have a copy of six.” They’re both too quiet, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. “Don’t judge. Trashy teen soaps are popular for a reason.” 

“What about artistic integrity?” 

You dismiss Billy’s question with a scoff that’s a hint too raspy. “Cheap writing in Hollywood isn’t my fault.” 

Instead of returning with another joke (maybe some comment about what Randy would say if he ever found out), Billy pushes himself off of the wall he was leaning against and approaches your refrigerator. 

Billy knows he’s at least heard of the usual home remedies, but he can’t quite place them. Won’t place them because the only person that ever worried about these kinds of things isn’t someone Billy’s willing to think about right now. 

Starve a fever or maybe that’s colds. There’s also...electrolytes? And hydration. That’s probably the best idea. Why does it matter? That thought bothers him, digs under his skin and settles at a wrong angle. He’s seen you. You’re alive, unscathed, and relatively fine. It’s not like any of the bad thoughts were proven right--you weren’t skipping for some other person or leaving.

But you’re uncomfortable. And alone. And vulnerable. Billy hates it. Hates that his awareness of your feelings is lodging itself in his mind and that he can’t really help and that it matters. He’s not sure he remembers the last time anyone besides Stu’s feelings actually mattered. Maybe Sidney’s did once, awhile ago, but that--that didn’t feel nearly as urgent as this.

“You okay?” Your voice snaps him back to the moment, to the glass of water he was getting. “You’re kind of staring at that glass like it knows something it shouldn’t.” 

You drop your voice a little, chin tilting down as you try to be funny. The humor is real enough that Billy doesn’t feel overly pushed, but he does note the thinly veiled genuineness in your words. That’s another thing about you. You say things and you mean them. Even if it’s completely casual, even if it’s a sentiment you’ll forget about immediately until it comes up again. You mean it. 

Billy sets the freshly filled glass on the counter, “Drink more water, your voice sounds like it could be used by a horror movie villain.” 

You frown like Billy’s offended you beyond repair. Just as he thinks you might protest, you pick up the glass and down a fair amount in a few gulps. “Happy?” 

“Oh, he’s thrilled,” Stu hums, “That’s what he looks like when he’s happy.” 

“I think I believe you.” Billy waits until your attention is fully on Stu before letting himself give in and smile a little. 

Stu takes a step towards you, “I’d never lie to you, baby.” He ignores the slight face you make at the nickname. Being sick must make you more irritable because you’ve let much more creative nicknames slide. Stu cups your face between his hands before you can protest. You don’t move or try to shake him off. He takes a second to exaggeratedly feel your skin. “You’re as hot as you look and that’s saying something.” 

“I’m wearing Christmas pajama pants that I got in 8th grade and I spent half the morning on the bathroom floor. No one could find this look attractive.” Stu half shrugs, protests already building, but you snap back to reality before he can get them out. “And if I’m that hot,” you step back, using your hands to pry him off of you, “You shouldn’t be touching me.”

He takes a step towards you. “My immune system’s strong.” Stu briefly flexes an arm, “You think all this could be supported by a weak one?” 

You half smile, giving Stu the opportunity he needs to place his hands on the soft blanket still on your shoulder’s. Again, he’s pleasantly surprised when you don’t brush him off. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Stu rubs a hand up and down your left shoulder, hoping the gesture comes off as light and comforting. “I’ll be fine.” 

Nothing about Stu has given you the indication that he’d be a tolerable sick person. Also, a small part of you is worried a cold like this could really take him out. He rarely dresses warm enough and you’ve seen the amount of energy drinks he’s willing to consume on one day. You’re also not sure you’ve ever seen him eat anything with significant nutritional value. “Every day I find out you’ve managed to keep yourself alive, I’m pleasantly surprised.” 

He squeezes your shoulder. “You’re cranky when you’re sick.” 

“At least she said pleasantly.” 

Stu looks past you to throw a dirty look in Billy’s direction. “Aw, he’s jealous of what we have.” 

Okay--you might be drowsy but you know where the play fighting over you goes. It starts off lighthearted enough, but if you’re not careful it can end kind of sour. One second everyone’s joking and the next Stu’s actually pushing you to pick a side on something that should be harmless but feels heavy. Sometimes Billy gets a little more involved than you think he wants to seem and it never feels fully about you. It’s like half of what they say means something else to them. 

“Okay, no fighting over me,” you shrug Stu off as best you can without losing your blanket, “I belong to this blanket and the couch.” 

You grab your cup of water off the counter and start walking to the living room without checking if they’re following. You hear their footsteps, but pay little mind to that as you settle on the couch and set your glass on the coffee table. 

Billy sits down next to you. “Couch and not your room?” 

Reluctantly sighing, you drop your head back, letting your neck rest at an awkward angle. "I live here now.” 

He can’t tell how much of that is a joke. Are you feeling that sick? “Right.” 

Your attention briefly flickers to the TV, the cliche teen drama that’s still playing being enough to suck you back in even though you’ve missed some context. To him it just looks like overly pretty-ed people overreacting. The scene ends and you return to the present enough to shrug off your blanket and settle the fabric more comfortably on your lap. “You guys can change the tape if you want.” 

A small mercy. Billy stands and begins looking at the tapes stacked on a shelf near the TV. It’s a fair collection, but the movies he saw in your room the time he came over to work on a project were better. He picks the first title that feels decent enough for background that doesn’t seem like too much just in case you’re prone to nausea. 

You’re patiently waiting for the tapes to switch out. Stu’s being quiet, which would have clued you in on a better rested, less sick day. You don’t realize he’s planning anything until you feel the side of your blanket being tugged on. “Stu.”

He scoots closer, “It’s cold.” 

Stu stretches his legs, weaseling himself under your blanket. You weakly try to push him out “There’s another blanket over there.” He ignores you, adjusting so that your legs overlap. “You’re going to get sick.” 

“Your pants are soft,” it’s said so softly, like a kid getting clothes fresh from the laundry.  You’re not sure you have it in you to ruin his good mood. He stretches a foot past your knee and a few inches up your thigh before relaxing back into place. “Fuzzy.”

Despite what you’re wearing, you can feel the comfortable warmth radiating off of him, turning the space beneath the blanket into a space heater. “You’re like a radiator.” 

“I’ll keep you warm an--” 

“Don’t ruin it.”

He frowns, mumbling something about you being “no fun” before sinking further into the couch. You pull more of the blanket onto you and Stu’s hit with the realization that you might not be warm enough. “You want another blanket?” 

You’re clearly surprised by the question. “Uh--no, I think I’m--” 

Stu pushes himself so that his legs are almost off your lap in order to reach the fabric draped over an armchair. He moves back into place and makes a point of draping the blanket over you. “Warmer?” 

“Yeah,” the admission is hesitant.

That is so like you, needing a little push to accept what you need. “Told ya.” 

He must be right because you don’t say anything else. Silence is usually your way of being reluctantly wrong. Stu takes his victory as an excuse to move a little closer. 

Billy sits back down, settling a little closer to the side of the couch. He’s not exactly jealous of how open Stu is. Distance is a good thing, a smart thing. But he does--

A weight on his shoulder. It takes less than a second for realization to wash over him. You’re relaxed, head resting on his upper arm. The room feels a little snugger but it’s not an uncomfortable change. 

The opening credits of the movie are rolling off screen and your eyes are focused on that. “Not to make this weird or lame,” you pause, sniffling slightly as you breathe, “But you guys are kind of nice, sometimes.” 

That has to be a sign of you being tired. Billy fights down a smile. “Sometimes?”

Stu turns his leg to tap your knee, “I think we deserve a little more than that.” 

You move your hand under the blanket to halfheartedly flick his leg. After that, your hand relaxes and rests there. “Fine. Most of the time.” 

[fallenangelics]

Hiding From The Missus

PAIRING | Alastor/Angel Dust

WORD COUNT | 1456

SUMMARY | After seven years of silence, Angel Dust had finally gotten word of a familiar someone showing their face again. Going to where all clues point, he's met with some surprises before finally finding what he had been after.

RATING | Teen And Up Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply, Overlord Angel Dust AU, Established Relationship

A/N | @rubra-wav created the beautiful banner below so go check out their content since they have some amazing stuff. @minidust093 loosely inspired this fic. I had already had the idea when I saw some of their amazing art so I just wanted to tag them so that anyone reading this could go and check them out.

EVENTS | @eclipsingbingo | Grabbed By The Chin

AO3 LINK | Read Here

The suit that Angel Dust wore was fitted to the curves and extra arms of his body. Though it wasn’t uncomfortable, as he walked across the pentagram it made him miss the loosness of his favoured dress. It didn’t matter though as he didn’t plan on spending too much time out, just a quick stop by one of the new establishments under the guise of scoping it out before he could return to his luxurious house.

Treading up the small hill near the end of the pentagram, Angel’s eyes fell on the large building at the top of it. Ghosting his eyes across the overly red building, he took in all of the extra renovations it had undertaken, such as the pirate ship that stuck from one side of the building and the radio tower that was spiralling out. His eyes stayed locked on the radio tower for the remainder of his walk, all the way up until he was knocking on the door and could hear the footsteps of someone coming to greet him.

“Hello,” A short blonde woman cheered excitedly as she threw open the door, staring up at Angel with stars in her eyes. Something in the back of Angel’s mind was itching at him, telling him he had seen her face before but he couldn’t quite place a finger on it. “And welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You’re Angel Dust, the Mafia Demon, right? Are you here to begin your path to redemption?”

“Ehh, not quite,” Angel spoke with as little enthusiasm as he could muster, having seven years of excitement sucked out of him just from the display he witnessed. Deflating slightly, the blonde woman still looked at him with a radiating sense of joy that Angel couldn’t help but wonder where she stored it. “I’m here for other reasons. Think of this as a business opportunity.”

“That’s great,” She exclaimed, shoving the door open wider to invite him in. With a hand reaching out, one of the blonde woman's hands latched onto Angel’s making him flinch back at the sudden contact. It wasn’t every day that people came running at the opportunity to grab onto Angel, not when they realised who he was at least. The woman took his reaction in stride as she beckoned him in, trying to show him the way. “Let me introduce you to our hotelier. He’ll be so happy to meet you.”

“I’m sure he will be,” Angel muttered as he stepped into the hotel for the first time. Taking it all in, just like the outside, there was an excessive amount of red, the colour coating almost every surface. All the furniture and wallpaper was old, fabrics peeling and stuffing spilling out of surfaces. Angel wouldn’t be caught dead staying in a place like this or even wandering near it if he was certain they were harbouring something he was looking for. 

“Angel Dust?” A voice called out, sceptic as they called for his attention. Turning to face whoever had caused him, Angel’s face brightened a minuscule amount before he even faced the Sinner, recognising them from their voice alone. Just as every other time Angel has had the pleasure of running into the Sinner, he wore his usual tophat, bow and suspendered pants, all of which were laced in red. “What are you doing here?”

“Just lookin’ for some new investments,” Discarding the blonde woman momentarily, Angel Dust gave his full attention to the much shorter Demon. “Didn’t know I’d find you here, Whiskers.”

“Wait,” Their attention was then pulled away from a new voice, one Angel didn’t recognise this time. Spotting a woman even shorter than Husk adorning a lot of grey and a glare on her features, Angel couldn’t help but sigh as more time was wasted. The scowl on her features twisted as her eyes flicked between them both. “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, he also knows Niff,” Husk supplied for him, filling in the two unnamed girls in the room. Both of them gave him a confused stare, unaware as to how Angel could’ve known the both of them. Just by Angel’s looks alone it was clear that he was well off since coming down to Hell. Trying to connect the dots as to how he had met two Sinners who had sold their souls just wasn’t adding up. “Wait, do you two not know who he is?”

“He’s the Mafia Demon,” The blonde woman repeated, though there was a spec of hesitation in her words now as she examined Angel’s tall figure.

“What?” The shorter one exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took in Angel’s calm and put-together appearance. Marching over to the blonde woman, she grabbed onto her arm and pulled her in close, whispering in a shouted way, “You let another Overlord in here, Charlie?”

“He wanted to invest in the hotel, Vaggie,” Angel was guessing Charlie spoke to who she had called Vaggie. Again, the name Charlie rattled around in Angel’s head but he was still yet to put a title to the name or the face. “This could be really good for business if everyone knew we had two Overlords helping out.”

“Or it could scare them all away,” Vaggie rebutted, letting go of Charlie to instead glare at Angel. The heat in her eyes did nothing to get under Angel’s skin, just making the Overlord let out a huff in annoyance as he was subjected to this bickering until Charlie was able to move on with this little tour and take him to the hotelier. 

“I don’t think that’s going to matter,” Husk cut in, stopping Vaggie from going even further down this over-paranoid rabbit hole. “Not when he’s Al-”

“What’s all this commotion about?” A static-filled voice sliced through the room, putting an end to any discussions. Chills broke out along Angel’s spine as he turned to face the newcomer to the conversation. Setting his eyes on him, Angel was glad he decided to give this rundown hotel a look since it was in fact harbouring the Sinner he was in search of. “My, what a wonderful visitor we have here.”

“Alastor,” Angel mused, voice sweet and sultry as he left his spot to saunter over to the Radio Demon. The deer smiled up at Angel in a genuine display, the sight blocked by Angel’s being as he got closer. Lifting one of his many hands, he slowly placed it on Alastor’s cheek, giving him time to back up if he needed to. When he didn’t, his head tilting to rest in the gesture, Angel trailed it down to where he was grabbing Alastor’s chin and tilting his head up so their eyes could properly meet. “Smiles… Where the fuck have you been these past seven years?”

In seconds, the sweetness that had been previously wafting around Angel dropped and a cruel and harsher tone took over. Grip tightening on Alastor’s chin to the point where his nail dug into the flesh and almost pierced it with his claws, blood ready to begin bubbling out. One of Alastor’s ears twitched, his smile hardening as he grinned up at Angel, ready to diffuse the situation. 

“What’s going on with those two?” Vaggie murmured, pointing an accusing finger at the both of them.

Hearing her voice, Angel let go of Alastor’s chin and instead reached up to grip one of Alastor’s red ears. Pinching down hard, Angel pulled Alastor in step with him as he turned the both of them around to face the small group that was watching their untouching reunion. In a deadpan Angel announced, “He’s my husband.”

“Aww,” Charlie very quickly cooed despite the situation, earning a blare of static from Alastor. 

“Why don’t we move this to the privacy of my room, Dear?” Alastor attempted to wiggle his way out of Angel’s grip, one of his tentacles coiling around Angel’s arm to try and yank him off, though Angel stayed strong in not letting Alastor out of his grip.

“Oh, so you made yourself nice and comfy here before tryin’ to track me down to let me know you were back?” Angel scoffed as he pulled on Alastor’s ear tighter, practically shouting into it as he lowered himself to speak into it. “Let me guess, you were gonna go start shit with Vox before even droppin’ by to let me know you weren’t dead.”

Alastor’s response couldn’t be heard as the pair of them were engulfed by shadows, transported to wherever Alastor desired. Behind them, they left two bewildered girls and an amused Husk at seeing his boss get a good yelling at. Sucking a calming breath in that didn’t work in the slightest, Vaggied said, “What. The. Fuck.”

[snorky]

trent frederic x f!reader? your writing is so so good

Break Up With Your Crappy Boyfriend

Hey y’all, and hi hi to the lovely requester! Thank you so much for the compliment, it means everything and beyond to me :') and I hope this lives up to your expectations. This is a Trent Frederic comfort-sorta fic, platonic for now, but it’s just something I scrapped up real quick since I’ve been overwhelmed with finals and exams, so I am really sorry if this isn’t the quality y’all are looking for. There may be a second part that will be sweeter and lighter than this piece, but I am not too sure yet, so let me know if you want one :) I hope you enjoy the fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Trent Frederic x F!Reader

Warnings: Bad Relationships (not with Trent), Angst, (let me know if I need to add anything)

—

—

“Break up with your crappy boyfriend.”

“What?”

She looked at him with a bewildered expression, the ice cold drink in her hands amplifying her emotions. It was a homemade strawberry daiquiri, tart and bitter, a sweet distraction. 

He nodded at her like it was the most obvious thing ever, but his eyes had a glint of gentle concern, leaning against the kitchen counter during a cookout-get-together with the team.

The kitchen was an unspoken safe haven between the both of them, somewhere they would often start discussing serious, in-person matters, ever since their teenage years where secrecy became common. It was unconventional, but it was the most non-obvious place to discuss something.

Trent and her had known each other for ages, childhood friends grown into familiar companions, reading one another like a book known by heart, passages and prayers etched into their tongues.

“You look exhausted, and whenever he’s brought up, you shift the topic.” The way he talked with his hands emphasized how truly sober he was, which was not.

Trent got much more chatty with alcohol in his system, friendlier, but he seemed to be much more blunt, more raw.

She looked at him with a slightly offended expression, but allowed him to continue his little rant. He had good judgment, knowing what was right and best for her, evident in the past when he could tell that a first date for her with someone would be the last.

He held a genuineness that was purely caring, but at the moment, her mind couldn’t seem to think straight, and she wanted to truly be in an unbiased stance. “Trent, I appreciate your support, and we can talk about this tomorrow when you’re sobered up, but right now, let’s set the topic aside—”

“Does he check on you often?” He looked at her, searching for an answer on her face, eyes dark.

Her eyes shifted nervously as she moved towards the sink, avoiding eye contact with him, and attempting to busy herself with the dishes. “He’s been busy ‘n stuff—”

“And what sad excuse of a ‘man’ doesn’t make time for their darling?” He emphasized the bit with air quotes, causing her to let out a small soft chuckle. “Am I wrong?” The smug look he had on his face was flushed, most likely from his drink.

She shook her head, letting out a sigh. Putting the dishes away, she wiped her hand on the rag that hung on the oven handle. “I mean, you’re not right either, Freddy—”

“I’m more right than you.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right!” Jake quipped as he walked by in the kitchen, grabbing a snack or two.

Both of them were startled by his sudden presence, unsure of how long he had been listening. He had a tendency to be very quiet, slipping around cracks and corners easily.

She shrugged with a tight-lipped smile, agreeing with Jake. “He has a point though,”

He set his drink down on the counter, looking up at her with a more serious look. “Okay, but, what kind of guy forgets their anniversary?”

His words seemed to hang in the air dully, the answer known but not spoken between the both of them. It was set uncomfortably in the atmosphere, and yet the party and conversations around them didn’t seem to diminish it.

The night shifted, with people having gone inside and settled down, yet still lively, happy. Lights throughout the house were dimmed, the atmosphere more calm and peaceful, and yet, she still couldn’t figure out how to ease her tension.

Fumbling with her phone in her hands, she scrolled through the messages that went unread by him, delivered and unseen. She bit the inside of her cheeks out of habit, nervous and unsteady.

Her worth wasn’t determined by his responses, or lack of, but it felt as if he didn’t care anymore, taking things for granted. She could feel so much, and yet nothing at all, seemingly mourning a relationship that was once there.

As she got up from the couch, she put her phone back into her pocket. “I’m going to go for a walk,” she said quietly to Katrina, who was sitting next to Brad as well. She simply nodded and shared some quick words of reassurance before they parted, and she gave her a soft smile in return.

Opening the back porch door, the cool air greeted her, filling her nose and lungs. It felt cold, something she was much too familiar with, and yet, she basked in it. The gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she walked down the secluded path, leading into the woods.

It wasn’t a dumb decision, she tried to justify. She knew the path well to her spot, and it was only hers. It gave her a feeling of control knowing that it was a place that she could come and go to, different from the warm kitchen ambience. It was rough, gritty, cold. Familiar, familiar, familiar.

The tears threatening to prick her eyes were also familiar, too familiar. Settling down against a boulder, she looked at the small pond that seemed to glimmer under the moonlight and stars, still and unmoving.

Her breaths became more ragged, harsh, and she knew it was best for her if she just let it out in the solitude that she was in.

And yet, the tears never came despite the looming threats and signs she was familiar with. She couldn’t bring herself to cry, or even shed a tear. It made her feel uncomfortable, a bad taste in her mouth. The sadness that never fully came, could never be justifiable. Her breath felt tight, and she couldn’t seem to get a full inhale.

Her dreariness was quickly replaced when she heard the bush rustling, the sound of leaves crunching and sticks snapping.

“Crap.”

The familiar voice of Trent made her let out a sigh of relief, but then shifted into confusion and concern.

“Wait, how did you find me?” She called out.

He came out of the shrubs, a gentle smile plastered in his face as he sat down beside her, slumping against the large rock. “You think I wouldn’t know your spot?”

She slowly nodded, confusion still laced in her expression.

Adjusting the hat on his head, he fixed his hair slightly before putting it back on. “You also think that they wouldn’t send someone out on multiple occasions when you vanish, just to make sure that you didn’t get kidnapped?” He looked at her, lightheartedly trying to get a response.

Realization and guilt sunk inside of her, eyes drifting towards her shoes. “Sorry,”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad,” he said quietly, calmly.

Tears started to stream down her face as she broke down, the last bit of his sentence sending her off the edge. The weight she didn’t know that was piled on her shoulders lessened, forgiven, acknowledged, taken care of. Everything she could’ve begged for, and he did it simply, little to no words or complaint. 

She attempted to wipe away her tears, but was quickly stopped by Trent as he engulfed her in a hug. It was sudden, everything seemingly moving too fast, but she welcomed it, leaning into him as she tried to calm down.

“You’re okay, you’ll be okay.”

It became quiet between the both of them, her breaths steadying as the minutes passed. He murmured comforting words every now and then, hand placed on her upper back as his thumb moved in lazy patterns.

She melted into him, her fist grasping onto his hoodie, too exhausted to try and force herself away, his touch the only thing grounding her.

After a few more minutes of silence, he picked her up with ease, and started making his way back to the house. “I’m going to bring you back inside, and don’t worry about everyone else,” he said. “Everyone has already headed home, and you need to get some rest.”

Simply nodding, she allowed herself to relax and try not to put up a fight, limbs worn out and tired. The drink most likely clouded her judgment, but she trusted Trent, never afraid.

As they both made it inside, the home welcomed them with warmth, scented candles lit and placed on the kitchen counter that was already all cleaned up. Everything was neatly put away, and there wasn’t a single piece of trash that she could spot.

She looked up at him, grateful, but still feeling guilty that he had to clean everything. “Did you—”

“Just for you, take it easy, please.”

Making his way into her bedroom, he placed her down on the bed, being careful with his movements to not shake her too much, and tucked her in, pulling the covers over her shoulder.

“I’ll leave a glass of water for you on the nightstand for you to drink, let me know if you need anything.” Walking away from her bed and to the doorway, he turned back once more to look at her again. “I’ll also be sleeping on the couch if that is alright with you, wanna make sure that you’re okay by morning,”

She hummed in response before drifting off to sleep, eyelids heavy and muscles tired, while Trent slipped away into the living room, extinguishing all the candles before falling asleep on the couch shortly after.

[danoberry]

★ object of your affection (hank devereaux x reader) SMUT 18+

description: after many “private” sessions with your professor, you finally get what you’ve been wanting.

content: SMUT 18+!!!, age gap (reader is in her 20s), use of the word “kiddo” a lot, kinda cum play, teasing, more stuff but it’s unimportant and it’s 12:30am

pronouns: you/yours (female reader)

wc: 2.7k

afab genitalia

AN:

hi guys! i’m really back! new content, woo! when i fade out of my interests, there’s a gap of time where i really have no interests. after i stopped being OBSESSED with paul dano, i finished breaking bad and watched better call saul, which, of course, sparked a huge interest and an infatuation with bob odenkirk. with that being said, here is the new fic. i hope everyone, even my religiously devoted dano fans, enjoy!

The sound of your foot against the floor tip-tapped with the cadence of a song running through your mind. You stood at Professor Devereaux’s door, waiting for the one-on-one session that you had asked him for, for the fourth week in a row. After his outburst in class, you had noticed he had been more stressed than ever before. You wouldn’t have cared as much if you didn’t have such a good bond with him, but with your similar humor (and consistent effort) you both got along very well. It was never your intention to become so close to your much older professor, but lack of friends and need for validation led you to this friendship.

Professor Devereaux was an ethical man. So you thought, at least until the outburst. For what it was worth, you agreed with what he was preaching. The college he taught at, the one you went to, was mediocrity’s capital. There was nothing special about it. What he said was right. The idiotic kid who kept dragging on the situation knew nothing about the man you knew. Someone practical. Someone witty. Someone caring. So as you stood there tapping your feet, you thought about how off-topic this one-on-one session with your professor could get. Or on the contrary, how off-topic you could make it. 

“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a voice say as you looked up from your feet. 

“Hey, Professor,” you replied, getting out of the doorway and watching as Prof. Devereaux grabbed the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. 

“Listen, kid, I’m super sleep deprived. I’ll look at your paper to the best of my ability, but I can’t promise world class advice.” 

“That’s okay. I kinda just wanted to eat somewhere besides the cafeteria.” 

He replied sarcastically, “Go right ahead, I’ll sit and watch you.” 

He sat in his chair across from you as you grabbed the salad from your bag. You pulled up your paper on your laptop, beginning to eat. 

“Jeez, you're making me hungry now,” he said, laughing and looking at his computer. 

“Yeah, well, I’d offer you some but I don’t want any cross-contamination going on.” 

“I’ll live. I think I have a vanilla Coke in the fridge out there. Be right back,” he opened the door, “before I die of hunger!” 

You ate your salad as you waited for him to get back, aimlessly scrolling on Pinterest. When he did come back, he carried two cans of Coke in his hands, one for him, and one for you. 

“See, I’m not as selfish as everyone is saying,” he said. 

“Definitely not. Thanks, Professor.” 

He sat down and leaned against the desk. “You gonna show me your paper?”  

“Oh yeah, here.” You flipped the screen and showed him what you were working on, and he invited you to sit on the other side of the desk with him, pointing out details that you didn’t need or needed to add. You took a sip of your Coke and grabbed a mint from across the desk after you were done with the salad. Slowly, you unconsciously started to scoot closer to him, closing the gap between your bodies substantially. You looked up at his gaze upon your screen, studying his facial features. You studied his hair and his beard and its color. You watched his eyes flick from each side of the screen as he read. Right then and there, you reached a breaking point. God, you couldn’t bear looking at such a handsome face and not being able to mess with it. He was so successful and attractive and intelligent. You wanted him to ruin you. 

You leaned closer to him, pretending to read your paper again. Slowly, you began to rub his shoulder as he read. He didn’t tense up or ask for you to stop, responses you could have received. Instead, he kept as he was. 

“What’re you doing?” He asked absentmindedly.

“I don’t know. I’ll stop-“ 

“No, it’s fine. I was just wondering if you could get the other shoulder.” 

You paused for a moment. 

“Uh, yes sir.”

“Don’t feel obligated. You just do it very well.” 

You blushed hard. “Thank you,” you nearly whispered. 

“Thank you. Could you get the blinds too?” 

You nodded your head while you got up, letting your hand linger on his shoulder until you couldn’t touch him anymore. As you shut the blinds, your professor looked over at you, tracking your body with his eyes. When you walked back over to him, you massaged his shoulders as he finished his reading and revising. You leaned closer to his head and watched your screen that he had control over. 

“There you are,” he said, taking his hands off of your keyboard, lifting one to rub your fingers that were resting on his shoulder. “Sit down, let me talk to you for a moment.” 

You let go of his shoulders and sat down next to him. “You’re one of my most promising students,” he started. “You’re not like these… ignoramuses I deal with every day…”

“Thank you, professor,” you said, nervous from the intimacy of the conversation. He leaned back and smiled. 

“I think we can get rid of the formalities now, don’t you think…? You can call me Hank when we’re alone.” 

You nodded your head, still blushing and timid from the conversation. 

“You don’t have to act so shy,” he teased. “I know what you’re trying to do. To be frank, it’s working… if that gives you any validation. You want one-on-one ‘lessons’ with me after class almost every week, and all we do is sit and talk. I’ve caught on. Scooting close to me while I read your essays, which I know you write just so we can have these ‘lessons.’ I know you want to mess with me. You’ve got me right where you want me.” 

You sat there in awe, the numbness in your thighs dialing down as you got more comfortable with the fact that he knew you were attracted to him. Hank leaned closer to you, and instead of letting him take initiative, you leaned into him and met his lips between his beard. He tasted the mint flavor on your tongue. 

“What was that about ‘cross contamination?’ Wintergreen, huh? How’d you know that was my favorite?” 

“Lucky guess.”

You kissed him again and felt the softness of his beard against your skin. It was a new feeling, something you had never experienced. You had only been with men your age. You melted in the thought; you were able to kiss such an experienced man, one who even knew how to speak to you so sweetly. You swooned over Hank’s quiet groans, ones he made when he was out of breath. Inching closer to the man, touring your hand up his knee and onto his thigh, he whispered to you, “Right here,” having you straddle his lap over the seat. He told you ‘atta girl’ when you adjusted your hips on top of him. 

“Jesus Christ, kiddo. I don’t know how you expect me to last long if I’m getting this undone from just touching you.”

“Who knows, maybe I could teach an old dog new tricks today,” you laughed. Hank kissed your neck, tickling you and making you giggle even more. 

“Who are you calling old?” 

“More like… mature,” you said, still giggling from the ticklish neck kisses. 

“Mature, huh? I guess you wanna know how someone so mature can make you feel then?” 

“I think I’d like that very much.” 

Hank took hold of your pants’ button and unclasped it, afterwards unzipping your zipper. You stood up quickly to kick them off, displaying a perfect pair of lace panties you had worn every single time you had a “session” with him. Hank unbuckled his belt, dropping it to the floor, and he undid his button and zipper. 

“I bet you wore those underwear just for me, didn’t you? How dirty.” 

“But you like them, right?” You asked jokingly, turning around squeezing your ass in your hands. You straddled Hank again and kissed him. “Talk about dirty, you’re about to have sex with one of your students in your office.” 

“Trust me,” he said, “if I could take you home with me right now, I would.” 

“And what would you do with me if you did?” You asked him, grinding a bit harder against his crotch than you were before.

“A lot more than what we can do right now.” 

“Why don’t you give it your all, then?”

“Pshh, ‘give it my all.’ You’re really asking for it, huh?” 

“Hank, I’m on my knees.”

You kissed him again and rubbed against his crotch, making sure he could feel the wetness seeping through your panties. Hank hummed when he felt you graze his cock. You stood up and watched as he pulled down his underwear and unbuttoned his shirt. Seeing his cock lay so perfectly against his stomach made your legs weak, and you swore you could feel yourself salivating. You bent down over his cock and watched as pre-cum leaked in little beads from his tip. You kissed the tip of his length, giving it kitten licks. You could see the twitch of his cock just from teasing him.

“God- ah- fuck, kid. Get on top of me.” 

With zero hesitation, you climbed back onto his lap and moved your panties to the side, giving Hank kisses on his lips and grinding against his cock, waiting for a moment before taking him all. You stood up and positioned yourself over his cock, sitting back down with an exasperated shudder, moaning into his neck. Hank expelled a large breath against your skin, feeling your pussy wrap around him so perfectly. 

“Ah- wow, you feel good.” 

“Who, me?” You sarcastically remarked, panting. 

Hank squeezed your ass and moved it up and down on his cock. “Don’t get all smart-elicy on me now. We both know where you get it from.” 

He breathed between his teeth, almost audibly whining, when you deliberately clenched around his cock.

“If you mean myself, then you’d be correct.” 

Hank pounded into you harder than before, shocking you from the abrupt change in pace. You worried to whine as quietly as you could into his shoulder. “Smart brats make good dumb bunnies, kiddo.” 

“I- ah- oh, fuck!” You moaned as quietly as you could in his ear. 

“Hmph, yeah, see what I mean?” 

He groaned with hot breaths against your skin, making you clench harder around his cock again. You drooled against his shoulder and whined, nearly incomprehensible.

“Ah- hng- I- feels so- good!” 

“You- fuck- like that?”

“Mhm..!”

Through his groans, Hank teased you again, “Hmm, I think you could have it a little more rough.” 

You moaned into his neck, drooling as he pounded his cock into you, stretching your hole. Whatever response you could have given, you couldn’t. He stopped pounding into you for a moment and tucked your hair out of your pretty face to look at you, holding your hand and rubbing his calloused fingers over yours. 

“You wanna bend over for me, kiddo?” 

You mewled and kissed his lips, nodding, despite how tired and sore you were. You got off of his lap, feeling cold and empty from the lack of friction. Wetness seeped around your pussy and around your thighs as you spread your legs and bent down over his desk. 

“I’m teasing you, but you really are doing so well for me,” he said, bending over and kissing your cheek. “Don’t lay your head like that. Here, sweetheart.” He put his hand on the left side of your cheek, creating a barrier between your head and the hard desk. Hank massaged your ass with his other hand, before shoving his wet cock back into you, making you moan at the feeling. 

Hank tried keeping the noises at a minimum, yet still trying to pound into you and hit the spots that made you arch farther up his stomach. You could tell he was close to cumming, but God, you didn’t want it to end. With every thrust, you could feel him becoming more tense, groaning, letting out hot breaths. His thrusts were becoming sloppier and quicker. 

“Where- oh fuck- where do you want- ah- it?” 

“Cum in me, please! Please, please please!” 

 Hank grunted as quietly as he could, almost moaning, when you felt his cock twitch inside you. Cum spurted over your walls, making your pussy clench around him. You felt bad about not being able to cum as he pulled out of you, kissing your shoulder. 

“Hank,” you said quietly as you turned around and played with your clit.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He replied in his chair, out of breath.

“I couldn’t cum,” you practically mumbled. 

“Poor thing,” he said, sitting up and kissing your face. “I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

You played with your clit softly when he sat back down in his chair, scooting towards your pussy and spreading your legs. You watched Hank as his head moved down to your crotch, and he collected the cum that was seeping out of your hole on his fingers and raised them to your mouth. You sucked them gently, before he brought his hand back down to your hole and began fucking you with his fingers and flicking his tongue over your clit. You whined out and tried squeezing your thighs, but to no avail, because he was already using his free hand to hold your legs down. You heard the wet noises that he made as he sucked on your puffy clit, making the knot in your stomach tighten. 

“Ah- oh, fuck! Ah, hngg, Hank!” You moaned as you tried to bite your lip. You could feel his smile curl against your pussy, and you held your orgasm for as long as you could, trying to relax your muscles. Only a few seconds after, however, did you let go, pulsating and cumming all around his calloused fingers. Hank licked the mixture of his cum and yours from your hole, kissing you. 

You, sweaty and nearly incoherent from being fucked dumb, mustered up a, “You’re kissing me with cum in your mouth, but I’m the dirty one.” 

Hank laughed at your ability to joke, even though you were so tired and cum-drunk. “You got me there,” he said, kissing you again. You sat there, batting your eyes as you looked up and his foggy glasses. 

“Thank you,” you said, quietly. 

“Of course, kiddo. Thank you. You’re the best I’ve had in years.” 

You smiled. “Really?” 

“Well maybe not the best behaved, but…”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Hank grabbed a few tissues from his closet, along with a blanket that he gave you once you hopped down from his desk. He wiped your legs off and around the base of his cock, getting himself ready for his class. 

“Don’t come to class today. Take a nap, I know you need it,” he said, putting his chair back. He kissed you when you sat down, and put his pants on after buttoning his shirt.

“I gotta get to my lecture and get this mess off in the restroom. Lock the door behind me, I’ll tell you when I’m back.” 

“Okay,” you said.

“You’re a good girl, you know that?” 

“I guess I do now,” you said, with a smirk on your face. Hank shook his head with a smile and kissed you again, before straightening himself out and walking out the door, shutting it behind him. He opened it back up and peeked in for just a second. 

“Same time next week?” He whispered. 

“Sooner.”

“You got it.” 

[ravenclaw-writes]

Shared Walls

| Part 2 |

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Sirius Black

Description:

Remus tried to sleep. He really did. He kept his eyes closed, he tried to go through the alphabet and think of he longest word that started and ended with the same letter, a trick that his mother taught him. Nothing worked. He wasn't sure how long it had been, how many times he had heard "more" and "please" and "faster". He adjusted himself again, and bumped into Sirius. He bumped into more Sirius than he was expecting. Remus froze.

"Are you ... hard?" Remus didn't need Sirius to answer verbally. The question was rhetorical. He could feel the answer.

OR

James and Lily were being too loud. Sirius decided to switch to Remus' room.

Word Count: 2,783

Original Publish Date: 2021-07-10

A/N: Hi! Fic 3 from my AO3-to-tumblr transfer. Hope you like! Feel free to check out my other stuff either on here as I start to upload or on my AO3 where they already live :)

| MASTERLIST IN BIO |

| Read on AO3 |

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was late. Or early. Remus didn’t care to check the time. All he knew was that he would much rather be sleeping. Surely after seven years of sharing a living space with someone you’d think that he would be numb to this sort of thing. But here he was, lying on a bed in the Potter’s spare room listening to James and Lily go at it.

He couldn’t blame them really. It was the beginning of August and they hadn’t seen each other since they left Hogwarts. Really left Hogwarts in fact. Remus didn’t let himself think about how he would probably never return to the castle halls. If he did it wouldn’t be the same anyway.

James’ parents were on holiday for the week so James decided to invite the Marauders over to spend the week (not that his parents would have minded, they adored each and every one of them). Sirius was already living there full-time, Peter was on holiday with his family, and Lily was finally, finally back from visiting her grandparents. So it ended up being James, Sirius, Remus, and Lily. Not that Remus minded. He would have otherwise been sharing a room with Peter and he had had enough of hearing his snores to last a lifetime. It got to the point where James would secretly place a silencing charm around Peter’s bed the nights before early morning Quidditch practices.

So he couldn’t exactly blame James and Lily for wanting to make up for the lost time. But did they have to be so fucking loud? They were 18, they knew how to use silencing charms. James knew he was sharing a house with other people. That his room was sandwiched between Sirirus’ and the spare. Maybe this was why the Marauders called Remus a prude. He was a fan of sex, a big fan actually, but it seemed that having the opinion that one’s sex life should remain between those involved made him a prude.

Remus rolled over, pressing his face into his pillow. He was cursing James for being able to last this long but also a little proud of his improvements. Remus groaned. Now he wished that he was sharing a room with Peter. Maybe his snores would drown out the sounds from the other side of the wall.

The door to the spare room creaked open. Remus quickly turned his head to face the door. He could see a sliver of wand light making its way into the room and a mess of curly hair. “Moony? Are you awake?” Sirius.

His question was punctuated by a rather loud moan. Remus was severely uncomfortable. Lily was basically his sister, James his brother. It was like listening to his - Remus stopped himself from completing that thought. He did not need to be making the situation worse.

Sirius stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “I’m not even going to let you answer that, I know for a fact that no one is sleeping through that.” He made his way over to the bed and sat down, pushing Remus to the far side of the bed.

Remus turned onto his side. “What are you doing here?” He tried to shield his eyes from the light emanating from Sirius’ wand.

“Shit, sorry, Nox.” The light went out. “I can’t sleep.”

Remus snorted. “And that’s my problem, because … ?”

Sirius spread himself out on the mattress. “My bed is against the same wall.” Remus didn’t see the issue. So was his. Sirius turned to face Remus. “Like, we share a wall. My bed, wall, his bed.” Ah. Remus could hear James’ bed bang against the wall every so often. He could only imagine how much worse it would be to be right there.

“So you’ve come to my room.”

“So I’ve come to your room.” With the little light that was escaping through the gaps in the curtains, Remus could make out Sirius’ grin.

“Hate to tell you, but it’s not much better over here.”

“It’s better than over there, believe me.” Remus did.

Sirius closed his eyes, and sighed, exhaling through his nose right into Remus’ face. Remus rolled over to face the other way and felt Sirius get under the covers with him.

Remus closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. He hadn’t shared a bed with Sirius in years. He hadn’t shared a bed with anyone in years actually. It was weird. He could feel the presence of another body, the dip of the mattress. He could hear Sirius breathing. He could hear Lily and James. Remus groaned and tried to get more comfortable.

“Stop moving,” Sirius groaned.

“You’re in my bed, I’ll move if I want to move,” Remus quipped.

“Fiesty.”

“Shut up.”

Remus tried to sleep. He really did. He kept his eyes closed, he tried to go through the alphabet and think of the longest word that started and ended with the same letter, a trick that his mother taught him. Nothing worked. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, how many times he had heard “more” and “please” and “faster”. He adjusted himself again, and bumped into Sirius. He bumped into more Sirius than he was expecting. Remus froze.

“Are you … hard?”

Remus didn’t need Sirius to answer verbally. The question was rhetorical. He could feel the answer.

In fact, Sirius didn’t answer. Remus didn’t know what to do. Neither of them moved. Remus would be lying if he hadn’t thought about being in a situation like this with Sirius (minus his two other friends fucking in the background). He had stopped thinking about it when Sirius had started making plans about them living together after Hogwarts. He could not act on his feelings and have shit hit the fan leaving him with nowhere to live in the fall. He also couldn’t continue to sit on his feelings and be the loser who thirsted over his flatmate. He was already the loser who thirsted over his best friend.

But now. Now. Now.

Was Sirius hard because of hearing James and Lily? If Remus could separate the noises from who they came from then … it sort of was a little hot. And if he let James and Lily’s names slip in … it felt, sexy? Remus’ dick twitched.

Remus wanted to test the waters. Maybe Sirius was sleeping. That would make more sense. And also make Remus feel weird for getting turned on by this situation. Somehow Sirius also being turned on made it ok. Alright. He was going to do this.

Trying to make it seem as nonchalant as possible, as if he was simply readjusting his position on the bed, Remus moved his ass over the bulge in Sirius’ pyjamas. He was met with a quick, sharp, inhale. Remus did it again. This time it was the sound of a small moan, caught in the back of a throat. Remus paused for thought. And did it again.

This time, Sirius’ hand reached out and gripped tightly onto Remus’ hip. He could feel Sirius’ nails digging into his skin. “Remus,” Sirius said through his teeth. Remus moved his body closer, his back flush again Sirius’ chest.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Just trying to get comfortable.” Remus demonstrated, grinding his ass into Sirius. Sirius’ grip tightened, Remus could hear the hitch in his breath. “Something wrong?” Remus was fully hard now. He peeled Sirius’ hand off and rolled over so they were face to face.

Remus pressed himself into Sirius, felt his clothed cock press over Sirius’. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut.

“Seems like someone got a little turned on listening to our friends, hm?” Remus teased, repeating his previous motion.

“Fuck off,” Sirius breathed.

“Ok, I’ll stop.” Remus stopped moving and was about to put some distance between them when Sirius reached out and gripped Remus’ waist.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Remus smirked and pressed himself closer to Sirius. They were touching everywhere but their heads. That was the one place Remus was unsure of. Sirius could be horny as hell but that didn’t mean he wanted to kiss Remus. He could work with that though.

Remus lifted his head off the pillow and brought his lips to Sirius’ ear. “Turn over.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate. In an instant, he was facing the other way and now it was Remus’ turn to hold him by the waist. Remus pulled him closer, pressed Sirius’ ass against his dick. He moaned at the pressure.

He could still hear James and Lily, it felt as if they were getting louder. Remus leaned his head into Sirius’ neck and began kissing it, moving up, and lightly bit on his earlobe. Sirius moaned, a real one this time. Remus reached his hand further and let it land on Sirius’ stomach. He slowly moved it lower, and slipped under Sirius’ waistband. He slid his hand over to the side, avoiding the head of Sirius’ upturned dick. Slowly, he ran his fingers over the base. Sirius hissed, breathing out a fuck. Remus lightly trailed his fingers up.

“Please,” Sirius begged as a voice in the other room screamed the same word.

Remus wrapped his hand around Sirius and began stroking. Sirius was big. He pulled his hand out of Sirius’ pyjamas and Sirius whined at the loss of contact. Remus loved the sound. He hooked a finger around Sirius’ waistband and began pulling. Sirius got the message and lifted his body off the mattress so Remus could pull the bottoms off. It was hard, having only one hand available, but eventually, they got to Sirius’ mid-thigh, exposing both his dick, and his ass. Remus lifted his hand closer to Sirius’ mouth. “Spit,” he commanded, directly into Sirius’ ear. Sirius did as he was told and spit into Remus’ hand.

“Good boy.” Remus praised, bringing his hand back to Sirius’ dick. With Sirius’ spit slicking up his own dick, Remus began stroking at a faster pace than before.

“Fuck, Moons.” Sirius moaned, pressing his ass into Remus. Remus groaned. Keeping one hand around Sirius, Remus used his other one to shimmy out of his own pyjama bottoms. It was a little awkward, and unlike Sirius, he was wearing underwear as well. Eventually, they were both at his ankles and he kicked them off, losing them in the sheets.

Returning to the task at hand, Remus pressed his now naked bottom half against Sirius. They both moaned as Remus’ dick pressed between Sirius’ cheeks. Remus began thrusting, grinding his dick against Sirius as he continued to move his hand around Sirius’ cock.

The sounds from the other room were beginning to lose their rhythm, there was more urgency. Sirius moaned. “Please, I need you.”

Remus tightened his grip around Sirius. “I don’t have any - I didn’t bring -”

Sirius cut him off “I know a spell,” He pushed himself out of Remus’ grip and searched for his wand on the bedside table. He muttered something under his breath and moaned. He returned to his position, back pressed against Remus. He reached behind him and took Remus’ hand, guiding it to his hole.

Hesitantly, Remus pressed a finger against Sirius and slowly eased in. To his surprise, it slid in. Whatever that spell was, Remus was glad that he didn’t have to curse himself for not bringing lube.

“Naughty, naughty.” Remus teased, pressing more of his finger in. Sirius moaned. “Who taught you that spell, hm? Or did you look it up yourself?” He spoke into Sirius’ ear. Sirius didn’t answer. Remus slowly started thrusting his finger. “You did, didn’t you?” He kept going. “Oh Pads, what am I to do with you?”

This time Sirius answered. “Anything.”

Remus tutted, “You have to be more specific, come on,” He added a second finger.

“Everything,” Sirius moaned.

Remus started scissoring his fingers, kissing along Sirius’ neck. “You really are a naughty boy, aren’t you? Letting me finger you while we listen to our friends fucking.”

Sirius groaned in response. Remus could tell he was getting impatient. He pulled his fingers out of Sirius and gripped his own dick. He gave it a few strokes. He was a little worried about going in dry, but he could tell from his fingers that Sirius’ insides were anything but.

He pressed the tip against Sirius’ hole. Teasing him just a little longer. The sounds from James’ room were definitely getting louder. Remus was surprised they were still going, but no longer complaining.

Remus pressed into Sirius and was met with warm, wet, heat. They both moaned at the feeling. Remus pressed himself all the way in. “Fuck, you’re huge,” Sirius moaned. Remus reached his hand around and wrapped it around Sirius. He ran his fingers up to the head and was met with a surprising amount of precum.

“Fuck,” Remus moaned, stroking Sirius, using the precum as lube. Remus slightly pulled out of Sirius and eased himself back in. He started to pick up the pace, matching his thrusts with his hand.

Sirius began chanting a slur of curses, filling in the gaps from their friends on the other side of the wall. Could they hear them? Were they getting off on hearing Remus and Sirius just as they were them? Fuck. Remus found that he actually enjoyed the thought. He let go of Sirius’ dick and grabbed his hip, turning him so he was chest first on the mattress. His head to the side, flushed cheeks highlighted by the light from the window.

With a leg on either side of Sirius, Remus began thrusting, finding that this position gave him more momentum. Sirius noticed it too. “Fuck, Remus!” He all but screamed. James and Lily heard that one for sure, but there wasn’t a pause.

Remus started moving faster, Sirius was loud. Remus loved it. He loved knowing that he was the one causing those sinful sounds to drip out of Sirius’ mouth.

Sirius reached out behind him, searching for Remus’ hand. Once found, he brought up to where his hair lay spread across the pillow. Remus understood immediately, grabbing a fistful. Sirius moaned and Remus pulled harder, causing Sirius’ head to lift from the pillow.

On the other side of their shared wall, Remus could hear the chanting of don’t stop and began picking up his own pace. With his free hand, he grabbed Sirius’ waist and pulled him up so he was on his hands and knees. Remus didn’t let go of Sirius’ waist or his hair. He started thrusting faster, harder. Sirius’ dick bounced with every thrust, still leaking.

“Touch me, please, fuck,” Sirius begged between moans. Remus obeyed and reached around and under Sirius and wrapped a hand around him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Remus and James.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Sirius and Lily.

Remus started thrusting harder. “Fuck, right there, yes, yes, yes,” Sirius moaned.

Remus let go of Sirius’ hair and his head fell forward. Remus could feel himself getting close. “Fuck, I’m going to cum, please let me cum, please, please,” Sirius started begging. Remus didn’t remember telling Sirius to wait until he was told to cum but fuck if it wasn’t hot. Remus was about to tell Sirius yes when he got an idea.

“Wait until they do. So they can hear it.”

Sirius let his arms go limp and he faceplanted into the pillow. Face down, ass up. “Hnngg.”

Remus smirked, pounding harder into Sirius’ prostate.

And then, with a loud moan, a curse, and a final bang of the headboard against the wall, the sounds came to an end. That was all he needed.

Remus sped up his hand. “You can cum now.”

Sirius let go with a mix of swears in both English and French, coating the sheets of the Potter’s guest room with his cum. The feeling of Sirius clenching around him is what tipped Remus over the edge and he came deep, and hard inside Sirius.

Remus caught his breath and slowly pulled out. Sirius winced at the feeling before extending his legs and letting them flop on the mattress, utterly spent. Remus grabbed Sirius’ wand and quickly cleaned up the mess, knowing Sirius would probably not like to fall asleep sticky with both of their cum.

Remus let himself fall into the mattress beside Sirius.

“Maybe I should sneak in here more often if that’s what’s waiting for me,” Sirius chuckled.

Remus snorted. “You say that now.”

Sirius opened his eyes in confusion.

“You seem to have forgotten that the four of us will be eating breakfast together in the morning.”

There was a pause.

“… I did forget about that part.”

Remus laughed again and closed his eyes. Finally, silence.

[buckets-and-trees]

Congrats again on 300 my love ❤️❤️ so you may already know which AU I’m going to be requesting, because it’s my favourite story of yours (so far) and that is Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree!! This story made my heart ache and if you have the inspiration for it I’d love love love to see more!! I don’t want to restrict your imagination by being too specific, but literally anything with those two and I would die of happiness 💙💙

Em, I squealed when you dropped this into my box for the request fest! Partly because I adore you. Partly because you know I also really adore Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree. And partly I squealed out of terror because...I was worried I wouldn't be able to do any kind of follow up to this fic justice. But I took a deep breath and let that go and decided to just let whatever happen happen. I was also a little worried because when I wrote Cedar Tree, it felt very finished, so I didn't have any leftover thoughts to pick up and play around with, so I literally took that first week to just think about them and their story. And then... a lot of scenes started to emerge - stuff before and after Cedar Tree, stuff that was just them, stuff with the people around them.

This is where I landed for now. It's not the same as Cedar Tree - first thing being that it's told from Steve's perspective instead of the reader's - but I'm thinking it will make sense in their overall narrative.

This it the end of their honeymoon, a few weeks before Cedar Tree.

Title: The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x female!Queen!Reader, brief Sam and Bucky Word Count: 1.2k Summary: The final night and morning of King Steven's royal honeymoon.

Content/Warnings: smut: vaginal intercourse/penetration

Additional Notes: The third offering to celebrate 300 followers with the request fest! While this depicts events before Fire Burning from a Cedar Tree, it does not stand alone and should be read AFTER reading the original piece. Song title inspiration from Better Love by Hozier, which is one of the songs on my original Cedar Tree writing playlist. A/N 2: This still is pretty arbitrary, but although I knew the original was a historical royal AU setting, I basically closed my eyes and pointed when I ended up saying it was medieval. I debated between medieval or Georgian/regency vibe, but NOW it's decidedly Georgian, which will be more relevant if/as I share more of their story in the future.

It’s as he’s on his back, staring at the ceiling, that Steve realizes he’s already deciphered the difference between how it sounds when you’re asleep, when you’re awake, and when you’re somewhere in between. He didn’t expect that.

He expected a lot of things after taking you as his queen, but there were so many small things that make sense, but he simply hadn’t thought of, like this – knowing so quickly the sounds of your breathing.

Ten days and in some ways he knew so much more about you than he knew about anyone else but himself – more than he’d known about his parents, than Bucky whom he’d grown up with and trusted else as his closest friend and advisor, more than his general Sam who he trusted with the security of his kingdom and his own life.

The betrothal, the brief period of engagement, the wedding, and the wedding feast had all been very public and formal. The moment the two of you had entered the royal carriage to make the journey to his small palace in the lake country for the honeymoon, everything was suddenly private and intimate. It was the first time Steve had truly been alone with you, and the first moments alone would have been awkward – he certainly hadn’t thought about that moment until suddenly the two of you were there alone – but you had clearly thought of the circumstance in advance and had been prepared to make easy conversation. While the first few minutes had been an effort to make conversation, they swiftly did progress to easy conversation. The topics had been largely trivial and unimportant, but the words were not stilted.

After a late and quick supper upon arrival, the two of you had retired to the royal bedchamber. Steve had expected a dutiful consummation, and duty may have called for the deed, but the execution had unexpectedly run deeper, warmer, with the undertones of the fledgling familiarity built over the few hours alone earlier. Each day the familiarity grew, and though there could have perhaps been moments that could have allowed each of you two part naturally, you both drew each other into extending conversations, going on walks or rides or visiting a new area of the palace together, continuing formally in the first few days until it became merely natural and the two of you forgot altogether the idea of spending much of the time apart.

Now he understood the nostalgia with which many referred to the honeymoon. It was a pity it was coming to an end. Two weeks ago, you were little more than strangers to be wed and fulfill your royal duties. Here on this final night, he could not think of it ending. Tomorrow he would go back to being the king again.

He sighed and turned his head to look at you. He wanted to reach for you, pull you closer, touch you, but the touching wouldn’t be enough, and he’d said sensibly that the two of you should retire early specifically so he could sleep and be well rested for his early departure. He hadn’t thought you warming his bed would be torture. He thought that it would be soothing and help him sleep. But this was worse, and the longer he listened, the less it seemed sleep would ever come to him. But he would not leave or send you away, it was the last night he would have this kind of closeness afforded to him with ease. He also didn’t want to disturb you if you were perhaps close to dropping off to sleep. Nearness was enough, even if it meant no sleep.

Suddenly you shifted, rolling to lie on your back, and you let out a long sigh of your own.

“Sleep alluding you, my queen?”

“As it seems to be alluding you, my king. I know the time is only slipping away until you’re required to wake and depart. Is my restless state keeping you awake?”

Steve laughed. “Perhaps, but not in the way you think.”

He rolled up on his elbow and places a hand on your hip, drawing circles there with his fingers.

“Perhaps I can beckon sleep for both of us in…other ways.”

His hand moved up to cup your breast. He gave a squeeze and brushed his thumb over your nipple, the thin fabric of your night shift barely there. You whimpered his name, arching slightly into his palm.

“Yes?” he pressed.

“Yes,” you pleaded.

While he reached down to pull up the hem of your nightdress, your hands went quickly to free his growing desire for you. Quickly he shifted his body over yours, nestling between your eagerly parting legs. He smiled as he guided his cock to your heated folds, happy to find you were already wet. He looked up to your face, and you bit your lip before reaching your hands up to his jaw and drawing him down to meet your lips. Steve devoured you with his kiss as he plunged into you, and you gave yourself up to him completely until you were both exhausted and sleep finally overtook you.

When one of his esquires woke him in the pre-dawn glow, he suppressed a groan of agitation. It is not the kind of king he has ever wanted to portray to his subjects. He will always be a dignified king. He was diligent in making sure you were tucked in with propriety before falling asleep himself, but he looks over to make sure your modesty is preserved this morning now with someone else in the room. He wants to kiss you goodbye, and while part of him wants nothing more than to wake you, see your eyes look up at him before he leaves, he refrains from doing anything more than brushing the hair off and away from your face with only the lightest caress. It would be silly to wake you for any more sentimentality. The honeymoon is truly over, and he only feels this consuming tie because of the unique circumstances of here and now. When you are both back in the capitol, it will be more normal and less sentimental. He will be himself again.

Downstairs in the hall there were simple foods ready for him to break his fast, and Lord Barnes and General Wilson were both waiting and ready to receive their king. Barnes would accompany him to Stark’s kingdom, but Wilson was there to escort the queen back to the castle.

“Guard her with your life,” Steve commanded.

Wilson gave a slight bow. “Yes, my king.”

Steve turns to look at Barnes only to find a smirk on the man’s face. “What is so amusing at this hour?”

“You gave that order as if he hasn’t been in your service for years.”

“She is the queen,” Steve reminded them.

“I will afford her the same safety and security that I have for your majesty since given the responsibility of this position.”

Steve shook his head, “You should afford her more than you do me.”

Without hesitation, he responded, “It will be done.”

Steve strode out of the foyer and Barnes fell in just one step behind him. “We need not rush away from the palace so soon. The official royal business of Stark’s expo does not require you so immediately.”

“This was the plan,” Steve retorted, “why would we alter course?”

“The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return to your queen,” he agreed.

“The sooner we can return to my kingdom, Lord Barnes.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

read more of the CEDAR TREES COLLECTION

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