#like it's big new to me doing this being on this side of it y'know

[deeisace]

..

[spotaus]

Hi guys, this is usually what a doodle page ends up looking like <3 (oh, and @ancha-aus thought you might like this! Not writing but certainly fuel to my fire lol-)

This one is New Age filled!!! (Close-ups abd Lore beneath the cut!)

1) Night and Cross!

Night is actually very clingy once he's a teen. He doesn't usually realize it, but around the castle he'll snake to be closer to his Knights so long as there's no one he needs to keep his composure infront of is nearby. Cross is the one who's not used to physical touch (when it's not Ink ofc) so Night in his personal bubble makes his heart melt but also scares tf out of him <3

2) Error and Night's Meeting!

Error was carrying his whole life on his back and trying not to get arrested for unintentional property damage at this point, so when he saw the chance to get back at his brother and prove he was strong enough? Yeah, he got that on chance instantly. And was VERY smug when Nightmare chose him. (Also, Error is wearing gloves, so less Haphephobia)

3) Dream and Blue designs!

I think these are good tentative designs! Dream probably has a more regal fit, but he likes to play up that rugged exile look- He's inspired by Archers, while Blue takes on that classic Knightly-vibe. Their equipment is mostly stolen from Night's troops or brought with them from Blue's home kingdom.

Also, Dream is approx Killer's height at this point, shorter than Cross and *much* shorter than Apple!Nightmare. (Hc that Skeletons tend to be tinier in stature thanks to weird monster beauty standards. Horror and Geno's fam are outliers.)

4) Horror and Dust designs!

Horror is naturally a very *large* monster. He's very malnourished when Nightmare meets him, but by the time he's a Knight Nightmare has made sure that's no longer the case. He actually loves comfy, simple clothes, but to play up the whole 'strong mysterious' bit he wears a more barbaric Knight's garb. He doesn't mind acting scary, it's more fun that way :]. Dust is very very small, and envies horror sometimes for his size, but his tiny stature let's him control his body and move a lot quicker. He's very much based on a rogue, and usually covers the lower part of his face w/ a black cloth, and the upper part w/ his hood or mask. Dust only removes both to bathe, eat, or relax in a safe location. (Ignore that I can't draw the stupid gaster blaster lmao-)

These last two were space-fillers, but Cross and his Borzoi (Windmill, otherwise known as Milly (Killer named her-)) and really bad first wips of Ccino! I think Ccino was a chubby, happy toddler, but lost a lot of 'weight' (bone mass? Magic?) due to stress and pressure and bad eating habits. So it isn't until a while after the Coronation that he starts to relax abd feel safe enough to eat normal meals (Nightmare used to guilt him into eating snacks together, but as his boss (and younger brother) he can encourage it more often). By the time Killer shows he's still not quite healthy, but he's better. As more weight is lifted off his shoulders, the better he is. (That 'beauty' most people saw was a more stereotypical slimness, but Killer never stopped seeing Ccino as beautiful-) I think he never looked traditionally underweight, so no one noticed, and it was only much later that Night processed it. (And maybe it's why Dream hardly recognized him later on-)

[whytheylosttheirminds]

LUNCH

(rafe cameron blurb)

pairing: waitress!reader x rafe cameron

content: smut, 18+ minors do not interact!

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

You usually liked your job. Being on your feet all day sucked, and some of the members here were assholes, but they were rich assholes and you never left without your purse overflowing with tips.

It only took a few weeks of waitressing at the Island Club’s restaurant to learn what kinds of things had you clocking out with pockets full of twenties and fifties. You weren’t even from North Carolina originally, but you adopted a sweet, southern drawl to match your fake smile. When you were back-of-house waiting on food for your tables, you’d drop the act, fucking around with the cooks and swearing like a sailor, immediately codeswitching to an angelic southern belle when you were back on the floor.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the old men would say when you dropped off their burgers. 

“You’re welcome, hun,” you’d say to their face, followed by “get fucked, creep,” once your back was turned.

Somehow, the younger guys were even worse. At least the older men had some subtlety, but the twenty-something, trustfunded Kook boys that would come in had absolutely no tact, and they tipped like shit.

Today, none of your work friends were scheduled with you, your new manager had laid into you about your dress being too short for a professional environment, and to top it off, you were working a double. You were actually considering quitting when a herd of local boys came barrelling into the restaurant, fresh off of making fools of themselves on the golf course - all swagger and no skill. You groaned when they sat themselves in your section.

You had absolutely no patience left in you. Instead of your usual chipper greeting and the list of today’s specials, you arrived at their table snapping, “you’re supposed to wait to be seated.”

The guy closest to you looked up under the shadow of his Titlest hat, a smug glint in his eyes as he said, “y'know, you’d be prettier if you smiled. You’d make a lot more money too.” His buddies erupted in laughter, as if he’d just brought the house down with his wit.

You were so fucking done, not even caring if you lost your job.

“Eat me,” you bit back at him. A casual flick of your middle finger in his face as you spun and sauntered away. He watched your hips swing as you left.

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your dress was bunched up around your waist and apron thrown on the club’s bathroom floor. He kneeled behind you as your nails dug into the marble countertop. Fingertips digging into your ass cheeks, he shook his head back and forth rapidly, dragging his tongue all over your pussy. His pornographic slurps made you whimper helplessly, so incredibly frustrated and turned on. He turned his hat around backwards so he could get deeper.

His big hand came down hard on the side of your thigh with a loud thwack. There would be a red handprint at the hem of your dress when you returned from your 15-minute break. If your boss wasn’t pissed at you before, you were in for it now. But you were too fucked out to care, forgetting all about your bad shift. You let him devour you, your whole body shuddering with every precise flick of his tongue against your clit.

He nibbled at the skin of your inner thighs as he hooked his fingers into you skillfully, drunk on the sound of all the pretty profanities that flowed from your lips.

You came so hard he had to hold you up against the bathroom sink, your knees shaking as you struggled to pull your panties back up. He stood behind you, wiping his mouth sloppily with the back of his hand. He caught your eyes in the mirror, smiling arrogantly at your bright red cheeks and smudged makeup.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” 

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your legs wobbled as you walked back to the table with only his drink on your tray. His friends were already getting up to leave, complaining about how long their food was taking. You'd forgotten all about their orders. He took the cold glass from you with a wink, throwing it back before following his friends to the door.

“You gonna pay for that?” You scoffed.

“Put it on Cameron!” He called back.

You rolled your eyes.

Maybe you’d keep this job a little longer.

[sweetnans]

The teachers always said that you looked like a couple of grown-ups. The love that they expected from Bakugo to somebody else wasn't like the one that he gave you daily. They were stunned, to say the least. He became someone softer, someone who cared, someone who could stay quiet and just exist, not in loudly way.

The battle has just begun. You did your best trying to evacuate the town that was close to the hospital, and you were tired, strained just like your other classmates, Izuku, Ochaco, and Shoto.

The heroes set up multiple campaign tents to refuge the people and the heroes as well. They didn't have any news about what happened in Jaku but you could guess.

"You okay?" He said sitting beside you. Putting his arm behind your shoulders so you can lean on him.

"I'm tired and still shocked," you answered, looking around you. People running, trying to communicate with the other teams and with their relatives too. It was a mess. "We could've die"

"But we didn't," he shrugged simply. He was like that, the rock that grounded you to the earth when you tended to be emotional. "I'll never let anything happen to you, y'know"

"I know," you whispered, trying to restrain the tears that pricked in your eyes. "It's just... I'm scared that I'll lose you"

"Hah? What do you mean?" He elevated his voice just an octave to prove his points. He wanted to be loud, but the circumstances weren't very propitious.

"I know you, you say a lot that you don't care, but you do, and I'm afraid that you trying to save everyone is going to end up in you being hurt" you whispered, like you were telling a secret to him. "I'm so used to you. Please don't do anything stupid that will end up in you leaving me"

Being in a relationship with Bakugo was more easy than you could believe, but it wasn't a walk in the park either. He didn't do emotions so well, and even if you did, you didn't show them often to not make him uncomfortable. But right now, you were dying to tell him everything and get it off of your chest.

After a long silence, you looked at him. His arm pressed tightly in your back. He was looking to nothing, passed the forest, just staring and thinking. You were everything to him, and it was unfair that both of you had to have this conversation so early in your life, damn you were only seventeen.

"I promise that nothing is going to happen to me or you, I'll always be here to protect you and keep you safe"

He looked directly to your eyes and pulled you tightly to his side. He wanted you to know that he meant it, every word. He would keep you safe and be safe just so you can't suffer.

"I love you, Katsuki," you said tearing up a little.

He rolled his eyes when he saw that little tear spilled from your right eye.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too, brat." he cleaned the stain from the tear of your face and reached something behind himself. "Got you soup, I bet you haven't eaten"

"Thanks," you said, taking it from his hand.

The silence between the two of you was pretty comfortable. You enjoyed the company of each other more than you could ever expect, the quietness, you wouldn't even imagine it from the loudest of your classmates.

"I can't die," he said out of nothing. You glanced at him with a lifted brow. "Who's going to take care of you? Shitty hair? Fucking Deku? No way, I'm not leaving your side".

You laughed at him while shaking your head, he was something else.

"You still got concrete on your face," you pointed out while taking a spoon of soup.

"Can you believe that a group of old hags tried to take it off with their wet fingers?" He said with disgust all over his face.

"Wet with...

"Saliva" he stated looking at you with big eyes.

"Ew," you said, shrieking with laughter. "Let me do it for you"

You wet your finger, and he let you willingly. After you smudged the concrete out of his face, you sealed it with a loud kiss in his cheek.

"Y'know what I think of PDA," he quirked a brow at you.

"And you know what I think of what you think"

You answered, kissing him all over his face to prove your point. He gave up after a few kisses, kissing you back.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[talaok]

Will you kiss me?

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

Summary: You are a famous actress who Pedro has a crush on, and he finally gets to meet you once you get both invited to The Graham Norton Show

warnings: just fluff

a/n: I had to

"What a pair we have here tonight huh?"Graham spoke enthusiastically, making the audience explode in roaring cheers and applauses.

You just smiled as you tried looking at the crowd, getting overwhelmed by the blinding lights.

"Y/n Y/l/n and Pedro Pascal, just- wow"

Other applauses filled the studio.

"Ok so let's start with you y/n, you have a show coming out next week, two oscar nominated films already out, and one more coming out next month" he took a deep breath, feigning fatigue "You must be tired, I mean, How long has it been since you slept?" he joked, making you laugh.

"well I did work a lot this past year, but it was worth it, I'm happy I got to be part of so many wonderful projects and I'm really proud of all of them, I just can't wait for people to see them"

"well I'm sure we're all gonna love them"

"I hope so, I'm always nervous about it"

"Really?" The man beside you asked, surprise clear in his tone.

Pedro Pascal,

You had heard of him before, of the boom he seemed to have made lately, but had never met him until half an hour ago, when you briefly introduced yourselves to one another.

He looked nervous, awkward even, and you didn't know if it was because of the show he was about to get on, if he just was like that, or if there was something else bothering him.

"of course, when I go to premiers I'm always looking over at how people are reacting, if they're like bored or on their phones or actually interested, it's nervewracking, don't you?"

"well of course I do" he chuckled "but I'm no one compared to you"

He had a beautiful smile, you noticed, sweet, comforting.

"oh stop it" you smacked his shoulder playfully " you're a big deal, Pedro"

He just shook his head, still smiling softly, and Graham took the opportunity to intervene.

"of course you are, I mean, Game of Thrones, Narcos," he listed " and now the Mandalorian and The last of us, I mean you're really killing it"

The crowd cheered some more at the mention of those shows.

"thank you," he said shyly, looking like he almost wanted them to stop.

"so how does it feel?" he asked, "to be on such massive hits at the same time?"

"Well, it feels... scary" he laughed, joined by the audience

"you don't like being the center of attention?" Graham asked

"oh no I do" he corrected, making you laugh "It's just frightening at times, 

but I'm having a good time y'know, it's also comforting seeing everyone I've worked with kind of be in the same position as me" he shrugged.

"People you've worked with?"

"yes, you know like Bella Ramsey, they're also- well they're young so of course, they're new to this- but, y'know, we're not used to all this attention and it feels good to have someone by your side who understands what's going on"

"of course" graham nodded "that's true, Bella is really young" he noticed "that's a thing both your shows have in common, young people," he said, "how did that feel? working with the new generation, I'm not saying you're old, but did you ever feel left out?"

"oh, all time" Pedro laughed

"yeah me too" you agreed "there were times when I was really lost but too ashamed to ask " you laughed in embarrassment

"absolutely," Pedro said, " they have a language of their own"

"right?!" you exclaimed, happy someone finally understood you.

"yes, like, there's one term that I learned recently that's really wonderful- somebody was saying - you swerve - "

You frowned

"do you know what swerving is?"

"nope" 

"I was like oh- get somebody off your scent or something like that- I don't know - confuse somebody, and they were like: no, they come in for a kiss and you swerve" he demonstrated, pretending to be avoiding a kiss on the cheek.

"Isn't that great?"

you nodded, laughing, as an idea came to you

"We should try"

His eyes widened as he turned to you 

"c'mon swerve me"

"no, I cannot swerve you!"

"c'mon it's for science"

"I can't, I can't swerve y/n Y/l/n, that's like - a crime"

"oh stop it, just do it, I wanna try it c'mon," you said, flattered

"ok fine, but just because I can't say no to you" he surrendered

"ok" you cleared your throat, preparing yourself "Oh wow, hi Pedro" you pretended to greet him, going in for a kiss.

He just smiled, as he did, eventually avoid your kiss,

his beard grazed your cheek, and the proximity to him, sparked something inside you, something quick, but likewise persistent.

As you leaned away, you noticed with amusement the flush on his cheeks and had to bite down a smile.

He fanned himself exaggeratedly "I'm blushing," he mumbled, making you chuckle, as you rested a hand on his arm, trying to soothe him.

" So how does swerving feel?" Graham asked

"it's... interesting" you glanced at him.

"It makes me feel rude" he looked at you too now, "I would never do it, it feels- it's mean"

"oh we know you wouldn't" you reassured him.

"I didn't like it" he shook his head

You smiled, tilting your head "would it make you feel better if we did it again without the swerving?"

You noticed how he seemed to have a momentary shutdown.

"yes," he said bluntly

"oh my god yes"

You laughed softly, as his mouth gaped open.

"Will you kiss me?" he almost begged, which was funny considering you had proposed it.

"Alright then, come here" you gestured, and he leaned closer, letting you press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"there" you smiled

"I think I just died"

"oh stop it, you're flattering me," you said, noticing a trace of red on his face "whoops, sorry I left a lipstick print" you went to clean it 

"no no" he stopped you 

"please leave it, I want proof this actually happened"

[callofdudes]

So, uh, I was watching Bad Boys 2 with my dad and when the shootout scene happened and Marcus accidentally got shot in the ass I couldn’t help but wonder after I was done LMFAOing; how the COD boys (or the guys from 141 if you have a character limit) would react to and deal with having been shot in the ass? Especially if their S/O or best friend was there?

Ouchie ouchie. Here ya go anon! Sorry it took so long!

Getting shot in the ass.

Fucking humiliated.

First off, it hurt and oh boy he would not talk to anyone. If you're not in the immediate vicinity of medical attention he is going to have to be taken care of by one of you.

He'd probably trust either you or Price. He loves Johnny but not enough to touch his whole ass.

If you're his spouse you will 100% try to make jokes to calm him down, and it doesn't end up making it any better. Simon laying on his stomach writhing in pain while you've got him pantsed.

He's never speaking to any of you again. He'd rather be buried alive than have you bandaging his whole asscheek so he doesn't bleed everywhere.

"Are-fuck! Are you done yet!?" He growled, turning into a whine near the end because he's in pain. Come on man...

"Almost Simon, just hang in with me ok?"

He whines, and you continue to as gently as you can patch the wound. And like a meanie you're trying not to laugh the whole time.

When you're done you'll pat his butt gently and help him up. "Fuck you, and fuck that last 20 minutes of my life." He winces, attempting to stand.

"It's an occupational hazard y'know-"

"In my ass. MY BLOODY ARSE!"

"Well it's not bloody anymore...??"

Yeah he's never speaking to you. Or the others. He'll go back to that coffin where he was safe and his beautiful ass wasn't being threatened 24/7.

When you get back if you tell anyone he's suffocating you in your sleep. Not like the medical team will let him go. Surgery to get the bullet out of his arse and then was hurting for weeks.

Glaring constantly because now he has one of those butt pillows that you'd sit on after a BBL. And the recruits are bugging him because, "Got a lift Lt??" "Thought it was already big enough."

His arse is a point of contention for him and now he's being pointed out for the masses.

"You... You want me to help??"

"Nope." He dragged his leg, limping his way as blood spilled.

"You've uh, got a hole in your-"

"I'm very well aware!" He grimaced, trying to ease down on his side. "Other room." He demands.

"I can help-"

"OTHER ROOM."

"Yes sir."

You step away and let Price undo his belt and survey the damage himself. The last time he was bleeding from his arse his military dad was spanking him upside down and sideways.

By the time he realizes he's going to need a little help he's already regretting his life. He's nearly had his balls shot off before, this shouldn't be news to him, but also, why....

Begrudgingly he calls you back in after messing with it enough it hurts twice as much as before.

So you grab some bandages and get to work.

"Don't-"

"I'm very well aware of where my hands are going captain, you're fine."

"Gross."

"You're bleeding."

"Thank you for stating the obvious." He rubbed his forehead, sighing.

You feel less inclined to snicker at Price because the poor man is just trying to make a living fighting crime. He doesn't deserve this. His beautiful soft ass doesn't deserve this.

When you get back he is just wanting the bullet out by that point so he doesn't fight medical. They get the bullet out and he is taking painkillers like they're going out of style. (No, not in an unhealthy way)

Will probably stay between his room and his office. He wants to do work very badly and hasn't enjoyed sitting around doing nothing for long periods of time.

Can't wear his favorite pants now because they're tighter and the seam cuts right into the stitches. Sweatpants and butt pillow it is until he's out of this hell.

Most recruits know not to poke the bear, unlike you. Or Simon.

"Whew, that was close." You panted and looked at Johnny with relief. "No kidding." But as the adrenaline wore off, Johnny felt lightheaded, and fell to his side.

"Ow-" He winced, his leg feeling numb. You quickly rushed to him and looked him over. He wasn't shot anywhere... Oh. Oh, no never mind, yes he was.

"Johnny..."

"Yeah..?"

"You're shot."

Johnny followed your gaze and saw.

Surprisingly calm. Like, out of everyone he doesn't panic as much. Pulls up his shirt into his mouth and tells you to get it out.

You're hesitant because it's trying to pull a bullet out of someone's ass. And pulling a bullet out is never... Fun. But he trusts you, even if his cheeks are glaringly red from utter embarrassment.

But he doesn't want anyone else to do it for some reason, so you do your best.

Long story short, it did not go well. You ended up messing with the wound that his right ass cheek was so swollen. He looked like an idiot. Laying on his stomach in pain while waiting for Evac.

"I'm sorry..." You rubbed his shoulder.

You'd pulled his pants down further, while still being respectful. But man if he didn't look stupid, and it looked like it hurt. One cheek much bigger than the other, red and swollen.

Johnny promised to never get shot in the ass again. After he was put on bed rest because he had an infection. So uh... That was a fun adventure.

"Why the hell did you try to dig the bullet out of my ass??" He looked over at you when you visited him.

"You told me to do that! I told you it was a bad idea."

"Oh yeah..." He sniffled and crossed his arms, pouting his lip.

"Johnny.. come on, it'll get better."

"Well it can't get worse. Can it?"

"Ow!! Bloody- shit!" He slid down a wall and looked down at his side, expecting the stinging pain he felt to have hit his leg, he was dismayed to find the bullet had got him in the ass.

"Oh fucking of course!" He groaned and tried his best to hold something over the wound while still getting bullets pelted at him.

"How're we looking, sergeant??"

Kyle looked back briefly and then adjusted his gun. "Fine! But I've got a bloody hole in my arse!"

"Say again?"

Kyle groaned. Falling out of helicopters, getting shot in the ass, what was next huh?

"I've. Got. A. Bullet. In my ass!!"

Mortified when the others get to him and see he was not lying. Kyle must have just about the worst luck because what the hell is this?? They got him to medical and they did indeed confirm he had a bullet where the sun don't shine.

His perfect, pretty, unscarred butt was now about to be dug into to get a bullet out. How humiliating. He had bad stuff happen to him, but this he refused to talk about.

"How're... How're you feeling?" You asked after he came out of surgery. Still high on drugs, Kyle glared at you. "Don't even..."

"Don't what?" You snickered slightly.

"Oh fuck off..."

You smiled a little and sat down. "Hey, you'll recover. It sucks, but you've gotten through worse."

"Bullet in the ass."

"Had a bullet in the ass."

"It was still there at one point. That was my reality, y/n!"

You lovingly shushed him with a glass of water.

Kyle did not say a word about it. Even when he needed a pillow to help him sit after the surgery, he never pointed it out. And the others saw the look, if they said anything Kyle would drag them behind a shed and suffocate them with said pillow.

And therefore, for everyone's collective safety, it was never brought up.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 1

Part 2

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (wedding night, loss of virginity, mild dub con, PIV, biting, praise kink), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: what do we say to big scary murderers? all together now: i can fix him. the smut is at the end so just keep scrolling to the bottom if you wanna pass (: originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

A collective gasp resonates in the hall upon the utterance of the proclamation. The blonde boy basks in the reaction. I release a breath, hand on my churning belly, as I stand there in front of the Iron Throne. The agitation that filled me threatened to spill from my lips when I curtsied to the king. But by the gods, I manage to mutter, "you have honored me with such a decision, your grace."

King Joffrey smirks, "yes," he shifts in his seat, "I have." He stands from the throne and raises a beckoning hand, "dog!"

All eyes turn to one corner.

The rustle of fabric and the clink of steel fill the hall. I watch as he walks towards me. I watch the large man, clad in darkness from head to toe, hand on his hilt, face adorned with a large burn, come to my side but pay me no mind. He turns to his king, "your grace."

"My king," queen Cersei mutters to her son, "he is a member of the Kingsguard, he cannot--"

"My word is law, is it not?" the boy says.

His mother looks at him then us, and says no word.

Joffrey grins, "I present your new ward," he raises his arms, "orphaned at war, parents and brothers dead, house left with no heirs. She turned to me for counsel," he points to his chest, "for she would die on her own. And now I give her you," he clasps his hands, "to have and to hold in holy matrimony."

The room is dead silent.

"Consider it a gift for your loyal service," he turns to me, "a rather generous one, given your infliction," he turns back to him.

The man on my side nods once.

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes."

I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine father."

A loud and shrill laugh echoes in the chamber, demanding everyone's attention. Joffrey wheezes until he's red and tumbles back into his metal chair. He catches his breath and nods, "he- mmm, he would," he chuckles.

The king settles himself and waves us off, "go forth and make arrangements then, my lady. Your protector awaits."

I flinch at the way the wooden door is opened. Sandor stands before me, in a dress shirt and a scowl, leaning against the opening of his chamber door. I look away and curtsy, "good morrow, Lord Sandor," I steal a quick glance at Lucy by my left, "I've had my handmaiden prepare f-"

"Hound." 

I lift my eyes to his face. The sour expression he held is amplified by the scar on his side. His eyes burn into me. "They call me the Hound," he grunts, "y'know that?"

I clasp my hands in front of me and open my mouth before muttering, "yes. Yes, I do."

"Then save me of this lord business," he straightens up and walks off inside his chambers. I watch him as much as I can from where I stood outside his room. I pipe up when he is no longer in eye's view, "may I come in?"

"Door's open, isn't it?"

I look at Lucy hesitantly, motioning she stay outside. I push the door wider and walk in, seeing Sandor was now getting dressed.

I stare at him for a moment, pressing my hands closer together, "would you like for me to he-"

"I'm not the king who has a bitch for every task."

I clench my jaw at his icy words.

Sandor begins to do his clasps, "why are you here, girl?"

He does not look at me after asking. I purse my lips before replying, "I am heading to the tailor to pick fabrics and-"

"Why isn't the tailor coming here?" he asks, still focused on dressing himself.

Sandor finally turns to me after fixing his top. I look up at him, feeling a dread build in my belly, "I wanted to go outside."

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He takes steps closer.

My lips part. I blurt, "the palace is too stuffy."

"Stuffy?" he retorts, "I wonder how large your house is if you find it stuffy here."

I shake my head, "I did not mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" Sandor says, tilting down to look upon me once he is close enough. I am unable to withhold myself from stepping back. I mutter, "there are many... looming presences. It's overwhelming."

"Looming, she says," he grumbles. "Well, little lady, you're going to be shackled to me, and I'm shackled here. You'll have to get used to these looming presences."

I turn away from him and take a breath. Must he speak to me like I'm a child?  "I understand that."

"No, I don't think you do," he says.

I look back at him. His gaze is as hard as ever.

"The moment a thing like you is outside the castle walls, thieves and rapists will fight to getcha," he walks off, "get your footman to escort you right in front of the shop and back."

I furrow my brows as he heads to the door, "wait, what about you?"

He stops right in front of Lucy and turns back, "what about me?"

"I'm going to the tailor to be fitted a dress for our wedding," I explain, "I came here to bring you along with me," I point to the woman at his side, "Lucy has made food for you to-"

"Why would I go with you to a tailor?"

Will he ever let me finish speaking? I hold back my annoyed expression, "you need to be fitted for your wedding at-"

"I'm not your dress up dolly," he grumbles, face pinched in disgust, "I'll be wearing my armor and that's that."

We stare at each other for a moment. I watch as Lucy glares at Sandor from behind. I clench my jaw tightly before curtsying, "as you wish, my lord-"

"Hound," he barks.

I look at him in shock, "you wish me to call you hound?"

He narrows his eyes and scoffs, "it's what I am-- what you're marrying, isn't it?"

I debate his words, unsure if he meant it or if it was a trick, a reason for him to be angry at me, "may I call you by name?"

He feels disdain burn up from his belly to his throat, "what? Too good to admit that-"

"That is not what I said!" I quip hotly.

The hulking man is rendered silent. He did not expect that. Still, he decides not to respond and walks away.

I scoff when he does so.

Lucy makes a face at him before coming up to me, offering a remorseful look, "he's a brute, milady! Rugged and ugly and mean!"

"Lucy," I warn as she takes my arm and escorts me out. She closes the door on our way and makes a face, "he's a thickheaded oaf!" she glares behind her to no one, "he's lucky-- blessed by all gods to be promised to a lady like you, and he treats you as though you were the degene-"

"Lucy!" I quip, yanking her by the arm.

She is finally silenced because of this. We both halt in our spot.

I hiss, "if someone were to hear you, if he were to hear you..." I shake my head, "he is my lord now. He is your lord."

Lucy grumbles.

"If it could be, I would not marry anyone," I tell her under a hushed voice, "but you know that cannot be."

We begin to walk down the hall. I continue, "I had thought I'd end with an old lord, eager to inherit my estate and esteem," I shake my head, "shocking as it was to be thrown like a bone to him..." I look out the open windows, "at least... the Hound... can protect me," I look back to Lucy, "protect us."

Lucy's face falls solemn. We hold each other's gaze for a moment. She then offers, "you're right. Them forest monsters will cower in fear at the mere sight of the 'ound."

We head to the castle gates, "do you think the guards will let us-"

"We'll walk, Lucy," I reply.

"What?! But the Hound said-"

"He expected me to have footmen and you know well that I don't. I do not think it would be appropriate to instruct the servants here to go out of their way for us. Besides, the shop is not far, you know this."

"But, Lady, I- I can drive the carriage again!"

I shake my head, "don't be ridiculous, Lucy. Do you know how silly we'd look galloping in a carriage for just a few streets down the city?"

Lucy is unable to talk me into any of her ideas. We ask the guards let us through the gate then walk to the tailor.

Once there, I am greeted by the tailor and immediately attended to.

Lucy and I go through the fabrics together. I laugh at her sentiment that all the fabrics would look good on me.

"Here," the tailor says, placing a strip of fabric on my shoulder, "I think this would suit you well, lady."

I look at myself in the mirror just as Lucy says, "that's it! That's the one!"

"Lucy," I chuckle, "you've said that about all the fabrics thus far."

"And I meant it every time!" she retorts, "but this one, this one is truly better than all the rest."

I look at myself in the mirror, "this one is actually quite pretty," I agree, "it's a very pale shade of red, but I quite enjoy it."

"It is all the rage with the ladies at court," the tailor says.

I smile, "very well. I should like to have this for my wedding dress."

Lucy squeals and applauds.

"A fine choice, my lady," the tailor nods and finishes measuring me.

The moment Lucy and I exit the tailor shop, we are scared by a loud holler. We turn to our side and see the mighty Hound, leaned against the wall. He straightens up and marches towards me.

"My Lord Sand-"

"What did I tell you about going outside the castle?" he barks, glaring down at me. His nostrils flare. His jaw clenches. My stomach rolls.

I give him a look and push Lucy behind me, "there was no dange-

"That's what you think. But tell me, what do little girls know but to play dress up?"

I whimper when he grabs my arm and drags me like an unruly child all the way back to the palace. I do not try to fight him. I know I will only hurt and tire myself if I do.

"Maybe I should let the peasants have at you," he mutters, side-eyeing me hotly, "teach you a lesson."

"Let her go!" Lucy shrieks.

He threatens to strike her when she tires to pull me away. I shout in protest. Sandor huffs and decides to simply continue dragging me.

The moment we are past the gates, he releases me roughly, making me yelp. Lucy grabs my arm and checks if I am injured.

Sandor eyes every one of the men present, "I'll make a jump rope out of the entrails of whoever fucking lets her out again."

The Hound storms off, leaving me and my handmaiden reeling and everyone else uneasy.

Sandor walks down the halls across the keep. He notices a guard looking down from the window. He wonders if he should push him for no other reason than the fact that he can.

He doesn't. He goes downstairs. He furrows his brows at the sight of men huddled together, looking at something in the gardens. He realizes it's most likely the same thing the man upstairs was looking at.

He walks their way, because he has to anyway, but is, frankly, uninterested in whatever the fuck has these men gawking.

On his way to his insufferable master, he passes Baelish, who is seemingly chipper to see him. The man smiles, "greetings, Hound."

The Hound ignores him.

"Pretty little thing in the garden. A darling flower, ready to be plucked," Baelish smirks as he watches the large man pass, "our king truly blessed you with such a match."

His expression does not change but his ears do ring at that as he walks down the hall.

He wills himself not to think of it, Littlefinger is a leech, but by the end of the day, his words are still ringing in mind. How irritating it was, suddenly, that he did not look at whatever the fuck it was those men were gawking at.

He's fuming at the sight of more men flocked by the garden when he reaches that hall again.

"OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!" he growls, thrashing past anyone who was slow and stupid enough not to get out of his path in time.

Sandor's eye twitches as when he sees what the commotion is all about.

"So, the princess said to him, 'away with you. I would rather never feel your kiss than yearn for something I will never feel again.' " I read the last section of the page. I flip to the next part and offer a smile to the children leaned on my lap listening to my story.

"Why would she tell him to go away?" Benji asked me from my right.

Lucy, beside him, chuckles and brushes his hair back,

I offer, "well, the prince had to go away. I suppose the princess just wanted it to be done with."

To my left, Ophelia, the boy's younger sister, pushes the book in my hand down so that she can see the picture. I show it to her just as Benji says, "she should have kissed him."

I chuckle, "well, maybe she will. There are a few more pages le-"

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I gasp and look up. A protective form of ire burns through me at the sound of Sandor's words. The two siblings in my arm squeal at the sight of him and cower into my breast. I glare at him, "there are children here!"

"I can bloody see that," he looks down with contempt, "what? Are they your bastards?"

Lucy takes hold of the children.

"They are not bastards!" I rebut, "they are my childhood friend, Lady Deena's children, who, mind you, travelled far to King's Landing for our wedding!"

"I don't give a fuck about Lady Deenas or Lady Danas. Couldn't you have read to the rats in your damn chambers, girl?"

I give my handmaiden one look and, immediately, Lucy takes Benji and Ophelia along with their fairytale book. They scurry away to their chambers as the children clamor.

I stand from the stone fence we had been sat on, "we wanted fresh air."

"You wanted attention," the Hound quips.

I am wholly offended by his accusation. Now that I was standing alone in front of him, my confidence from having something to protect dwindles. I don't get to ask from whom he thought I wanted attention because he's soon berating me all over again. He quips, "does it please you to know all the guards in King's Landing want to fuck a baby into you?"

I am appalled by his venom.

He grabs me by the arm and begins hauling me off. A squeak spills from my lips at his brute force. Part of me wishes to fight back this time; I do not want him to humiliate me by dragging me around again. And yet I find myself unable to do anything more than latch my fingers into his iron grip, trying to at least loosen it.

Sandor, of course, does not budge.

"Is it a crime to read to children?!" I whine out in frustration, finding it immensely difficult to keep up to with his wide strides.

He does not make a sound, save the sound of his boots on the stone floors. I pant as we hike up the steps, yet still, I find myself explaining, "I would have done the same to our children!"

I do not see that Sandor reacts to this because I am too busy trying to match his pace.

I thank the gods when he finally releases me. When I catch my breath, I realize I am in front of the door to my chambers.

"Do not stroll around as if you actually live here," Sandor quips, raising a finger at me.

"But I do-"

"Last time I checked, you're not marrying into royalty," he cuts me off.

I watch the large man walk off right after speaking this. I rub my arm as I feel my eyes water. More than his heavy grip, I was once again hurt by his jagged treatment. My voice breaks as I shout out, "wou-ld you at least tell me what exactly I've done to have angered you so?!"

He does not slow, nor does he look over his shoulder when he barks back, "I don't want to see you fucking reading to those children again."

Needless to say, I crumble into a fit of tears the moment I get into my chambers.

When Lucy comes to my side on my bed, he curses the Hound and does her best to console me. She rubs my back as I weep my woes out into my pillow, "oh, Lucy, he doesn't just despise me, he despises children!"

Lucy scoffs, "why am I not surprised."

She regrets saying this when I turn to her with wet cheeks and bloodshot eyes. She gives a guilty expression, "milady, I-"

"That's all I ever wanted," I sniffle, "all I ever dreamed of-" my lips quiver, "being a mother. Having children. You know this."

Lucy bites her lips tightly as I continue to sob. She mutters, "pardon my foolish words, lady."

"Oh, what does it matter-" I rub my philtrum, "you're right. This is not a surprising development."

"You can still get him to give you his babes! Men like making babies, not really taking care of them. And of course, I would never leave your side. I would help you raise your darlings, protect them from him," she speaks sincerely. I knew her words meant to comfort me but in truth, I don't think they do.

It seems she can tell that, which is why she's apologizing all over again.

I shake my head and place my hand on her cheek, "it's alright, Lucy... you needn't worry... it's all... going to be alright.

Sandor and I look starkly contrasting at the altar. He is dark and brooding, clad in hard armor and a perpetual frown. I am bright and jittery, wrapped in pale reds and nervous smiles.

The septon binds our hands together in fabric. We turn to each other as we speak our vows.

My heart races when we are told to kiss. I suck in a breath and get on my tiptoes to reach his lips. I crane my neck up; he makes no effort to lean down in return. Still, our lips meet and in that moment, I am his.

The audience applauds us, the sound of King Joffrey's laugh is apparent even through it. Our wedding was not a grand event; the king wanted it to happen in haste, and I could not afford to make it a grand anyway. There were also not so many people in attendance, and yet it felt like the whole world was watching me in this moment.

The celebration feast that came after was terribly tedious and severely unenjoyable for me, and for Sandor. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the merrymaking though, namely the king, and I suppose that was enough.

I did nothing but smile and thank my guest from my seat next to Sandor. He did not speak to me, let alone anyone who came up to us with congratulations on their lips. All he did was eat. I suppose it could be worse. At least one of us could stomach eating at this moment.

The only life I felt was when I was introduced to a babe of one of the ladies. The sweetling had only seen 4 moons and she was as sweet as can be. She was so precious. I just had to hold her. I was inspired to even stand and frolic a bit with her in my arms.

Her mother and I conversed much about babies and child rearing. My stomach rolled in a mix of excitement, dread, anticipation, and worry all at once, knowing this was to be the next part of my life now.

I enjoyed all the stories she told me. I was flattered when she said I would be a great mother, for her child in my arms did not fuss one bit and she was known to be quite fussy. I giggled at all the wonderful memories she had with her other children who, she said, were even fussier than her daughter. I nodded solemnly at her advice in child birth and breastfeeding, making sure not to let a single word go unheard.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Sandor was watching this all from his spot with the cup of wine before him. He did not avert his eyes once; he watched each and every move.

Well, it was unbeknownst to everyone excluding Lord Baelish, who was rather amused by it all, which was why he decided to act.

"Lady Clegane," Lord Baelish comes up to me and raises a hand, "might you spare me a dance?"

I turn form the babe in my arms to him. I smile a small one, "I'm afraid my darling friend here makes me unwilling to do anything but coddle her."

The child's mother on my left laughs, as does Baelish. He links his hands together, "well, judging from your darling friend's temperament, I'd say you would be a fine mother."

"I agree," the lady says.

I grin from ear to ear, heart soaring at the sentiment, "I would like to be nothing more."

Baelish presses his lips into a smirk, "may the gods bless you with many children then," he raises his hands "and may they all take after your sweetness, grace, and beauty."

The way Baelish speaks those words were intentional, as was everything was with him. The comment leaves an air of tension between us. The man basks in it and decides his work is done here.

"I-It is kind of the king to assign a larger room," I muster up as I walk into my new chambers-- our new chambers.

Sandor follows after me, locking the door behind him. He hums, "I doubt it was the king that thought of it. It was probably the queen."

I stand by the end of the bed. I brush the sheets with my hand. I mutter a correction, "kind of her to think of us."

When I turn, my breath hitches at the sight of Sandor standing right behind me. I suck in a sharp breath as I take in his expression. His face is barely visible in the dark. I can only see as much as the moon allowed. Still, I can tell he is stoic, hard, and predatory. This was it.

My hands tremble. I fiddle with my fingers, "shall I-" I bring my palms to his chest plate, "help you out of your armor?"

Sandor does not respond to me.

"H-husband?"

He takes my hand, taking a shaky breath from my lips along with him. He leads me to his claps and shows me how to undo them before releasing my hand to do it myself. I continue to undo all the claps until his armor is off him. When he is left in his shirt and trousers, he snatches my wrists before I can undress him any further. I freeze in my spot.

My belly churns at his touch. It is reminiscent of the times he has dragged me by the arm, and yet the firm grip is a notch gentler. The way is brows furrow is barely visible because of his burns, but I see it. He leans down and his dark hair spills over his scar, "do you know what's going to happen now, little girl?"

My breath hitches. I take a moment to even my breathing before responding, "yes."

He hums and lifts his nose, "what's going to happen?"

"You're going to fuck me."

Sandor laughs lowly. I am shocked when he swipes his thumb on my lips, "filthy mouth."

I look up at him with wide eyes as his own rake me up and down. I feel incredibly self-conscious under his scrutiny. I want to push him away and hide under the sheets. Yet still, I am rendered frozen in my spot.

"Tell me honest, have you ever done this before?" he speaks rather softly.

I feel my body burn. I shake my head, unable to speak.

Sandor allows me a second. He believes it yet finds it hard to believe. "I would not judge you if you did," he adds.

I shake my head faster.

He draws out a deep breath, "no, of course you haven't--" he grabs my ribs and spins me around. The action makes my heart hammer. He pushes my hair to the side, over my shoulder. I squeak softly when he begins to undo the back of my dress. He completes his thought, "-- you're a good girl."

Though he was loosening my ties, I was finding it harder to breathe. He very soon slips my dress off my shoulders, leaving me in my shift. After doing so, he begins to remove the pins in my hair. It takes a while for him to accomplish it. I count the clinks that come from him dropping the clips onto the floor.

When he is done, he gently combs through my locks and lets my hair run loose. It was then he nudges me, "on the bed. On your back."

I shudder and crawl on the bed. I watch him take his shirt off the moment I lie on my back. I immediately turn away and close my eyes when I notice his bulge. His hands undo the string of his trousers.

I press my thighs together. I feel my heart pound. It pounds intensely between my legs.

"Aren't you curious to see what it looks like?"

I curl my legs up at his words.

I gasp and flinch when he grabs my ankles, my eyes ripping open to see what he was doing. He straightens my legs out and pulls me down; I gasp once more when he does so.

I catch sight of his opened trousers. I see the way the hair on his wide, battle-scarred chest trails down to the thick, dark hair beneath his navel. I see the imprint on his pants clearer. I shut my eyes again.

I hear him pull his trousers down. I feel the bed dip as he crawls over.

My hands dig into the sheets as he knocks my legs apart. I am passive and obedient; I make room for him. I can hear my pulse from my screwed eyes.

Goosebumps form on my skin when Sandor's hot, calloused fingers brush up my thighs. He lightly kneads my flesh. The action almost makes me moan. He stops and pushes my skirt up when he feels something by my hips, "where did you get this?"

I feel him ghost over the deep scar on my left hip. I cover my face in the crook of my elbows, "I was attacked."

He does not respond.

"That was the day my family died."

Sandor feels bad for asking. He feels a bit more when the thought does not prevent his cock from hardening. He adjusts his grip, hiking my shift up higher. His hands claw on my hips but only one remains. His mouth waters.

I gasp and slap my thighs close, or at least try to, when I feel him brush something firm and damp against my pulsing core. He uses the sheer size of him to prevent me from actually pressing my thighs together.

"Shh, shh, shh, shh-" he tuts, "this is for your own good. Believe me."

My toes curl and my hands dig into my pillow as he fondles with me. The sensation makes my body twitch and the wet squelching sound that pierces my ears fill me up with an unnamable sensation. Soon enough though, I feel myself become undeniably aroused.

My hips begin to roll and my back begins to arch.

Sandor grunts and licks his lips, loving every moment of his private show, "good girl."

His words strike up my belly like lightning.

Lewd sounds begin to dribble past my lips. I feel my body begin to tingle. The sopping sounds intensify.

"Feel good?" he asks, "you like it?"

I find no room to deny it. I instantly respond, "yes."

"Good," he trails off.

My grip on the pillows loosen when he begins to slow. I bring my hands to the side when he falls to a stop. Just as I am about to look down to see what was wrong, my heart races all over again when he hooks his fingers behind my knees and nestles between my thighs. He positions against me. I feel him guide his hardened length into my folds.

I let out a loud groan when he slips into my wetness. He grunts and cusses as he sinks down, balls deep. My nails claw at his shoulders. He pushes my knees back to the mattress. Surprisingly, the weight of him is not suffocating, in fact, it was welcomed... it was delicious.

I whine viscerally when he begins to buck his hips slowly.

"Mmm, fuck," he pants, "so fucking tight. So pretty and wet and warm, my sweet virgin."

My jaw drops at his words.

"My sweet lady wife," he growls, "all," he drags out, "mine."

My breath strains and escapes my throat hotly. My sounds match each of his thrusts; they are deep and lewd. Sandor's male ego is through the roof because it if. He slowly picks up the pace.

I am a mess of whines at the feel his manhood stretching and prodding into me. My body shivers every time he collides with the tender spot in me. It feels so good; it's nothing I've felt before.

Sandor grunts and shifts on his knees. He adjusts me beneath him like I weighed nothing, and maybe I didn't to him. I slip out a scream when he batters into me with such delicious force.

"Shhhhh," he hushes shakily, hands forcing my hips down in place so I didn't shoot off as he snapped his hips into me. With every hit of flesh, his stones knocking into me, his wet skin, slapping into my dripping folds, I feel my body burn and tighten more.

"Don't be too loud," he scolds emptily, for in truth, he would love it if he got something even louder. He leans lower, "wouldn't want you to wake all of King's Landing." But please do.

His words momentarily push sense into my mind. It doesn't last. I can barely mask my loud cries and he fucks into me. My nails dig into his scalp. He lets out a sound because of it.

Sandor shifts again. This time, his buries his face next to mine. He presses against me, chest to chest, grabs the bed frame with one hand, my knee with the other, and rams into me so hard, the bed creaks and knocks into the wall.

My eyes roll back and my open mouth latches onto his shoulder. I naturally then sink my teeth in is taut flesh. It does wonders to muffle my sounds but it pulls out some from Sandor.

"Gods, girl. Yeah," he heaves, "sink your," he gives two particularly rough thrusts, "fucking teeth into me."

My breathing grows erratic after this. An intense pressure begins to build in my belly.

"S-Sandor- Sandor-"

He hums and maintains his intense pace, "come girl. Just a bit more. Come around my cock like a good, dirty girl."

His words push me on the edge. I crumble and convulse beneath him exactly like it, a good, dirty girl. My voice is just as shaky as my thighs are. My body bursts into an intense, burning pleasure. 

My body drips in sweat and slick and spit and tears, all purely out of bliss. All the air is pulled out of my lungs as I fall into this feeling.

Sandor curses. His thrusts grow erratic. I would scream if I wasn't so winded and exhausted. He stabs so roughly into me, I flinch because it feels like he's hitting the very depths of my mind. Then, he breaks into a growl and I feel him throb so strongly until his movements come to a halt.

Once he is still, I am obliterated. I cannot move. I can only feel heat and pulsing. I feel terribly sticky and so full. I love every inch of it.

I sigh and lean into him. I can imagine now why many paid for this pleasure, why people had so many children. My fingers scratch into his nape. I rub my face against his cheek; I feel the texture of his burn. Sandor stiffens.

The next moment, he pulls away, and it was then I realized doing that, nuzzling into him, was obviously a mistake. I gasp at the sudden lost of contact, the emptiness. I watch him jump out of the bed, as if I was fire and I had burned him. I press my thighs together and push my skirt down, feeling shame wash over me as I watched him tuck himself into his trousers like he was eager to leave me.

And he looked exactly like he meant to leave me at this moment.

"Where are you going?" I ask him, but my voice is so small and unsure that he doesn't hear it.

He grabs his shirt and puts it on. He heads to the door, unlocks it quickly, and insults me by saying, "good night."

[thischarmingmandalorian]

Learn To Share

Teacher!Joel Miller x Teacher!Reader

Summary: Your new coworker is a thorn in your side, until he isn't. This is my entry into @auteurdelabre Trope Off 2024! The tropes I chose were: Only One Bed, Stuck In An Elevator, Office Romance (kinda?), and Love At First Sight IF YOU SQUINT.

Pairing: Gym Teacher!Joel Miller x History Teacher!Reader

Warnings: No-no words, unprotected piv(but not to completion!), facial, cum eating, big on the pet names (doll, baby), reader is a grump, Sarah is mentioned because she is alive and I won't have it any other way. In true Vee fashion, I've read this so much that if I proofread it again I'll get too embarrassed to publish it, so sorry for any mistakes, they're my fault.

Word Count: 6.2k

Your week starts much like any other - arriving at work early on Monday morning to hog the copy machine closest to your classroom.

You were a creature of habit. Each Monday you'd set your alarm a half hour early and skimp on your morning routine in order to get to work at an ungodly hour. You were always one of the first people on your school's campus, and that's how you liked it. You had a system, a schedule: check mailbox, make copies, make and drink your first cup of coffee. This routine was what set you up for success for your week, and you wouldn't let anything get in the way of your rituals.

Until this Monday. This Monday, the new gym teacher gets in the way.

It's 6:15 when you saunter into the teacher's lounge, reams of paper tucked under your arm. Your headphones blare the newest episode of your favorite podcast; if you hadn't been listening, you'd have heard the copy machine's telltale whirring from down the hall, but mercifully, the story keeps you oblivious.

Until you turn the corner into the teacher's lounge and walk right into the broadest man you'd ever met. You shriek, tugging one ear bud out and craning your neck to stare up at the face of whoever is encroaching on your morning.

Fuck, he's handsome.

But fuck, he's using your copy machine.

The mystery man smiles down at you warmly, extending a warm hand for you to shake. "Mornin' miss. Joel Miller, teachin' gym and coachin' the wrestlin' team!" You shake his hand (it is Texas, and you were raised right) and give him your name. You're sympathetic to Joel's plight, you really are - showing up to a new school right after Christmas is hard, you knew that as well as anyone. But he was also throwing off your Monday ritual. It was all you could think about. So instead of a normal, polite response, the next words that left your mouth were less than welcoming:

"I use that copy machine on Monday mornings."

Joel's polite smile falters and he drops your hand. The energy of the entire room changes. "My apologies, miss. Didn't realize there was a schedule."

"Oh, no, there isn't a schedule. It's just… what I do. Part of my Monday routine, y'know. So, how many more copies do you have before I can cut in? This is really throwing off my morning."

"'Bout a hundred? You know, you're the first colleague I've met besides the principal who hired me?"

You're not sure why he's mentioning this, or why he didn't use the copy machine closer to his classroom. "Oh, ok? Hey, in case nobody's told you, there's a copier much closer to your office, it's right…"

"Listen, miss," Joel cuts in, gently grabbing the hand you were using to point down the hall and placing it, palm down, in between his two giant hands, "it's my first day at a new job. My daughter spent the holiday with her mother and I haven't seen her in 3 weeks. I'm nervous, I'm sad, and I showed up here early for some quiet time to get ready for the week, same as you. And honestly - and I'm sorry if I'm bein' too forward here - but honestly, you're being an asshole."

You rip your hand away from his grip, scowling. "Fuck you, dude." You turn on your heel, sarcastically telling your new colleague to "have a nice semester" as you stalk out of the copy room.

You go home that afternoon determined not to let Joel Miller ruin the rest of your school year. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you melt into your couch in front of the TV, determined to reset your week in the morning.

Tuesday gets worse before it gets better.

Tuesday you tweak an old back injury getting out of bed and it takes ages just to get dressed. You gingerly slide your backpack over your shoulders and in the car, you resign yourself to the fact that you're going to have to use the elevator to get to your classroom.

Your school's elevator is rickety, unreliable, and you're claustrophobic; you avoid it at all costs. But there's no way your lower back will allow you to get up the stairs this morning.

Unfortunately when you cross the courtyard to the elevator door, Joel Miller has beat you there, already having pressed the button. When he sees you, he smiles on instinct (because it is Texas, and he was raised right), though you see it falter when he realizes it's you he's about to be stuck in the elevator with.

"Havin' a better mornin' today, miss? Or did someone ruin this one for you, too?"

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Not in the mood today, Miller. Hurt my back, and honestly, after yesterday, you're not really the person I want to share an elevator with."

It's Joel's turn to scoff. "Don't worry, doll, the feelin's mutual."

You cringe at the pet name, and mercifully the elevator door groans open, inviting you in. Joel puts his arm out to hold it open, ushering you in ahead of him. You retreat to the far corner, making yourself as small as possible, foolishly wishing you could manifest yourself out of this awkward situation.

The door closes and you push the button for the 3rd floor.

Nothing happens.

You push again. And again. And ten more times in rapid succession.

Still nothing.

Except the lights in the elevator turn off, leaving you and your new arch enemy stuck together.

This is worse than yesterday morning.

Joel, much more level headed than you, pulls out his phone to call someone for help. You hear the principals voice, tinny through the speakerphone. "Hey, Miller. What's up?"

"Mornin' sir. Look, myself and one of your History teachers are stuck in the elevator. We were trying to get to class and the whole thing shit the bed. We're in here, no lights, buttons ain't workin'. How deep is the shit we're in, boss?"

The principal asks which history teacher Joel's stuck with, and you let him know it's you through gritted teeth. "I'm, uh, not doing too well in here, sir," you admit, trying not to hyperventilate.

The principal sighs on the other end of the call, which is not a good sign, "sorry to hear that, but we've gotta call someone from downtown to come fix it, and that could take… an hour at least?"

You tense up, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. "Well, that sucks, sir," you admit, voice shaking. The principal chuckles, agreeing. He promises to call downtown right when he hangs up, and tells you and Joel to hang tight in the meantime. He also lets you know that he'll send subs to both of your classes, which does little to alleviate your anxiety - your morning classes are feral.

Joel thanks the principal and hangs up, groaning as he wipes a hand across his face. "Might as well get comfortable, doll. Sounds like we'll be stuck here a while."

You gingerly peel your backpack off and maneuver your way onto the floor, sitting with your back against the wall. You wince as you try to stretch your tweaked muscles and breathe deeply, trying not to panic.

"You gonna be ok, miss?" Joel asks, a tone of genuine concern in his voice as he follows your lead, lowering himself into the corner opposite you.

"Just… don't talk to me, please. My back hurts, I'm claustrophobic, this is the second morning in a row that hasn't gone my way…" Joel rolls his eyes, but shushes you gently.

"It'll be fine, doll. Just breathe. Want me to distract you?"

"Stop calling me 'doll,' Miller. And absolutely not; don't get any ideas."

Joel barked out a laugh. "Come on, doll, we're stuck in an elevator on a high school campus. What ideas do you think I'd have? What's your problem, anyway? You've been nothing but shitty to me since we met."

"Look, if you haven't noticed, I'm really Type A. I have certain things I need to do in order for my days and weeks to go smoothly, and you threw off my groove yesterday. I use that copy machine every Monday morning, everyone knows that."

"And how exactly was I supposed to know that? It was my first day! Did you ever stop to think that you threw off my groove yesterday? My first day at a new school and the first person I see treats me like shit - that was fucked up, doll."

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You hated that he was right. " Look, Joel, I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean to ruin your day. I should've been nicer to you. Can we start over?"

"Of course. Good morning, miss, name's Joel Miller. This is my second day of school. I teach phys ed, coach wrestling, and I'm a single dad to a freshman named Sarah who goes to school in the next town over," Joel rattles off. You can see his hand reach out for you to shake in the dark. You take it, shaking firmly with a smile. The first smile Joel's seen cross your face.

You tell Joel your name like it was the first time. "I teach United States history, sponsor the creative writing club, and I have two cats at home who will actually eat my toes if I'm stuck in here past dismissal and they don't get their dinner on time."

Joel guffaws as he releases your hand and your smile widens. It feels good to start over. "Well it's good to meet you, doll. And forgive me if this is too forward, but you said you hurt your back?"

You nod. "I tweaked an old injury this morning and it hurts like a bitch."

"So, I know how this is gonna sound, and I'm not tryin' to be weird, but my degree is in sports medicine. While we're stuck, d'ya wanna see if I can fix it?" Joel lifts his hands, palms facing you, in an attempt at innocence. "No weird shit, I promise. But I know back pain can be a real bitch."

You feel your face flush, happy for the darkness and hoping that Joel won't notice. "What… how would you…" your mouth goes dry and the elevator suddenly feels warmer.

Joel extends his hand out to you again, inviting you to make your way to his corner of the floor, situating you between his outstretched legs. His incredibly long outstretched legs, covered in a pair of gray sweatpants. You'd always silently judged gym teachers for their ability to dress comfortably while you were expected to look a little more put together, but you weren't mad at Joel today. You crossed your own legs and put your palms flat on your knees, hopefully sitting far enough away from Joel that he doesn't feel the heat radiating off you - this is the closest you'd been to a good looking man since… a long time ago.

"So, I'm gonna have to put my hands on you, doll, but I can do it over your shirt, no funny shit. Just tell me where it hurts."

"So it's like, lower? On the right side?" You struggle to explain, flustered at the close proximity. You move a hand from your knee to gesture in the general direction of your back pain, accidentally brushing Joel's knee with your fingers. You push your fingers into where your back aches, rubbing a slow circle before Joel swats your hand away.

"I gotchu, doll. Now, I'm gonna start tryin' to get this knot out of your muscle. If it hurts, let me know. If you want me to stop, say so." You nod and feel the prod of Joel's fingers at your back. The pain is awful and you hiss, trying to take a deep breath but finding it difficult. "'Salright, miss. 'M gonna fix it, just bear with me. In the mean time, what are your cat's names?"

You answer, Joel laughing at how ridiculous the names are. You ask if he has any pets and he says no. "Sarah's more than enough for me to handle. She just turned 15 and is… a handful. I love her, but my god. Teenage girls are somethin' else. Do you have any siblings?"

You tell Joel about your sister who lives in the Midwest, and you hear all about his brother Tommy and the antics Joel always has to help get him out of.

You and Joel spend the next hour and a half learning all there is to know about each other. He continues to knead at the knotted muscle in your back as you chat, learning all about each other's lives, childhoods, failed relationships. You learn that Joel isn't much older than you, but had his daughter young. You tell him about your ex-boyfriend and why his number is now blocked from your phone. All the while the principal is in constant contact with you both, keeping you updated on when the repairman will be on campus (as soon as they can), how your classes are going (poorly), and profusely apologizing for the two of you bring stuck. It's actually not so bad, though, which is not something you'd have anticipated when the morning started.

It's so not bad that when the elevator door opens and you're free, you're actually a bit disappointed. You both stand, thanking the repairman and gathering your backpack. You notice that your back doesn't hurt anymore. You turn to Joel and thank him for his help, and for his company. "Look, I know I said that you weren't someone I wanted to share an elevator with this morning, but all things considered, this wasn't the worst way to spend the morning. I'm glad we were able to start over."

Joel smiles as you both step out into the sunlight of the courtyard. "Feelin's mutual, doll. Hey, give me your phone?" You raise an eyebrow but hand it over anyway after tapping out your passcode. You watch as Joel puts his number into your contacts. "Don't go blockin' this number, now," he quips as he hands you the phone back. You can't help but roll your eyes, but you smile and promise him you won't, giving a short wave as you turned in the direction of your classroom.

During lunch you decide to text Joel while waiting for your leftovers to microwave.

11:05: Hey! It's your new BFF - not sure I thanked you for un-fucking my back. I really appreciate it. Didn't think I'd be able to sleep tonight with that pain. You really saved me :)

11:08: Hey, doll! No big deal - glad I could help you out. Hope you'll be able to get your beauty sleep tonight. Not that you need it.

11:08: Oh shit. Was that too much? Was that weird?

11:08: I made it weird, right?

You snort out a laugh that reverberates through your empty classroom, and decide to make Joel squirm a little. You wait far too long to respond.

11:15: Stop overthinking and eat your lunch, weirdo :p

The next few days go better than the beginning of your week. You're not usually one to make friends at work, but you start to eat lunch with Joel; you'd deny it if asked, but hearing him knock on your door makes your day better. You can't believe that just a few days ago, you thought Joel had ruined your day. He's the nicest coworker you've ever had, and he goes out of his way to prove that. He's also the hottest coworker you've ever had, but you're not ready to go there.

Joel gets a perfect opportunity to be that perfect colleague on Friday. He finds you standing at your car in the parking lot after school, crying and angrily hanging up your phone.

"Doll? What's wrong?"

You watch Joel's face fall as you swipe tears from your cheeks. "It's not a big deal Joel. There was something going on this weekend that I was really excited for, and I was about to head there now to beat the traffic and my car won't start," you sniffle, kicking your tire gently.

Joel places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close to him. He wraps an arm around your middle and uses his other hand to nestle your face into the crook of his shoulder. "Where ya headed, baby? I'll take ya wherever you need to go," he promises in a whisper close to your ear. You know how this looks, two colleagues hugging in the parking lot of their job, and you know it'll start people talking. But you're not sure if you care.

"It's silly. But an author I really like is giving a talk about his new book at this store in the city tomorrow, so I was headed there to see him. I booked a hotel for the night and everything," you explain, another pitiful sob catching in your throat.

"Hey, it's OK, doll. We'll getcha there. Let me make a phone call real quick, but meantime, grab what you need from your car and get in my truck." You begin to protest but Joel peels you away from him, holding you by the shoulders at arms length. "Let me handle this for you," he says, voice even, no room for argument. You nod and sniffle once more, turning to grab your overnight bag from the back seat.

As you get comfortable in Joel's truck, you watch him on the phone. He has his free hand on his hip and one knee juts out to the side as he explains your dilemma to whoever is on the other end. After a few minutes he hangs up and joins you in the truck. "Alright, doll. My brother knows a guy with a tow truck, and a mechanic. Coincidentally, they both owe Tommy a favor. I got him to cash those favors in for you. Let's get you to the city, and by the time you're back, your car should be good as new."

Fresh tears threaten to fall. "Joel, that's too much, at least -" Joel puts a hand up in front of your face, silencing you.

"Nothing is too much for you, alright? Nothing. If you wanna thank Tommy later, he accepts payment in beer. But I don't want to hear anything right now except the address of the hotel I'm bringin' ya to."

That shuts you up quick, and you reach for Joel's phone to type the address into his gps.

Luckily the hotel isn't too far away, because being in Joel's truck, coupled with the kindness he's just shown you have stirred something in you that you haven't felt in a long time. The conversation flows effortlessly, and whatever sadness and disappointment you had felt before Joel had stepped in to save your weekend were long forgotten.

"Alright, doll, this is your stop. Grab your things and get outta here. Text me when your talk is over tomorrow and I can come getcha. Sarah's still with her mom so I'm free all weekend," Joel explains. If he were being honest with himself, he didn't want to see you go. If he were being honest with himself, he's been in love with you since that Monday - as rude as you were to him, he couldn't help his feelings for you. But he resigned himself to the fact that you didn't feel the same as he pulled into a parking spot and pushed the gear shift all the way up.

"Joel?" Your voice is quieter than you wanted it to be, a little more whiny than you meant it, and you see a vein in Joel's neck start to bulge as he turns to you. "I know how this is gonna sound, and I don't mean to be… forward? But if you're just going to come get me tomorrow, why not just stay here for the night? With… with me?"

Joel starts to sputter an excuse, but you interrupt: "I booked a room with two queen beds! I like to have one to keep my bags and stuff on, but honestly, let me save you the gas," you put your hands up, palms facing him like he had done in the elevator, "no weird shit. I promise."

Joel sighs, hands gripping and kneading at the steering wheel. He seems… conflicted? But after a few seconds he pulls the keys out of the ignition. "Fuck it, yeah, that's not a bad idea, doll. Thank you."

"It's really not a big deal, Joel. We can head in, get dinner, and go to sleep facing different directions in our own beds. Totally normal."

"Alright, alright, but I'm payin' for dinner," Joel relents as you both walk through the hotel doors towards the check in desk. You give the woman behind the desk your information, sliding over your credit card and license, but she will not tear her eyes away from Joel, and it's making you… jealous? Which is a weird emotion to feel about someone staring lustily at your friend. You push the feeling down and try to focus on what the woman is telling you about check out, amenities, and then she tells you that you've been upgraded to a nicer room, free of charge. She winks at you knowingly, but you're confused. You're only here for a night, why would you need an upgrade? And why is this lady winking at you?

You find out the answer to these questions when you open the door. You and Joel stand in the doorway of the hotel room, neither of you sure what to say. Not only does it look like your view has been upgraded - your floor-to-ceiling window and balcony overlook the city skyline and adjacent water - but in place of your two queen beds stands… just one king sized bed.

Joel senses you tense up and gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "'salright, doll. I'll head out and come back and get you tomorrow like I'd planned."

"No! I mean… that's silly, Joel. Don't go all the way home just to come all the way back. You can go, but let me get an Uber home," you put your palm against Joel's chest reassuringly.

"No way, that's way too far a ride.

'S gonna be so expensive. Tell ya what, doll: I'll stay, I'll buy you dinner, and I'll call the front desk askin' for more pillows. We'll make a wall between us to sleep. No weird shit."

You nod, agreeing, "no weird shit."

"Great," Joel sighs, that vein popping out of his neck again. "Put your stuff down and let's find some food."

When you and Joel return from dinner, there are five extra pillows sitting on the king bed. You chuckle at the sheer volume of them.

"Think they sent up enough for us to make an impenetrable weird shit forcefield?" you joke. This whole day has turned ridiculous, you might as well have a good sense of humor about it. Though, if you were honest with yourself, you wouldn't mind a little weird shit; it was hard to admit, especially since you'd been so mean to Joel when you first met, but you were maybe starting to fall for him. But his whole commitment to "no weird shit" let you know those feelings were one-sided.

"I think we'll be fine, doll," Joel chuckles as he walks to the bed, pulls the covers down, and lines the pillows up the middle of the bed. He fluffs each one before he pulls the covers back up, "see?"

You step around the bed to lay on your side, head propped against the headboard and remote in your hand, "this'll definitely work. Now, for everyone's favorite hotel pastime: trashy reality tv!"

Joel groans, but smiles gently as he lays on his own side of the bed. You watch as he gets comfortable, crossing his legs at the ankle and lacing his hands behind his head. "Tell me about this book you're hearin' about tomorrow, doll," Joel asks, pulling you away from whatever mindless show you've put on for background noise.

"Ooh! I'm so excited, let me tell you everything!"

As you drone on excitedly about your favorite author and his new book, you can't help but notice the way Joel looks at you. He's a really good active listener, but there's more to it; he's actually interested in what you're saying. He reacts to your words, asks questions, and his eyes seem to light up watching how excited you get.

"I'm glad you're so excited for tomorrow, doll. But it's late; maybe we should get some shut-eye," Joel suggests when he senses you've hyped yourself up to the point of exhaustion. His face softens and his stomach flips when you yawn, rubbing your eyes tiredly and covering yourself with the blankets. He can't help but swoon internally as he watches you huddle into your pillow, fidgeting until you're fully comfortable. Joel turns over to shut the bedside lamp off, freezing when he hears you call out to him softly.

"Joel?"

He turns his head in your direction, muttering a short "hmm?"

"Before you find out the hard way, I have a hard time falling asleep. I get real fidgety. I never know what to do with my hands."

Joel turns the light off and turns his body toward you, peering comically over the weird shit barrier. "What do you need from me, doll?"

"Can I… does holding hands fall under weird shit?" You punctuate your question with an outstretched palm resting over the pillow wall.

Joel makes himself comfortable before reaching for your hand in between two of the pillows, lacing his fingers with your own. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your palm, "how's this? Helpful?"

You nod, closing your eyes and sighing deeply, thanking Joel with a reassuring squeeze of his hand.

You're not sure when you fall asleep, but for once, it doesn't take forever. You wake in the middle of the night, though, startled by the TV you'd left on switching from reality trash to a loud infomercial. You look around frantically for the remote, clicking the power button forcefully. Your heart still racing from waking up so fast, you make your way to the bathroom for a drink of water.

When you walk back to the bed, you can't help but stand on Joel's side and stare down at his sleeping form. His face is angelic, so calm, and his body is curled in on itself, hands pulled under his chin. At some point while you slept he had taken his shirt off, and you made a note to memorize the smattering of freckles on his shoulder. His pants, those fucking gray sweats, hang dangerously low on his hips. You resist the urge to touch him, to run your thumb across his plush lower lip, and try your best to tear yourself away.

You almost succeed.

"Like whatcha see, doll?" Joel's groggy voice breaks the silence, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Joel. Would you believe it if I told you I was sleepwalking?"

Joel's eyes finally open as he chuckles, "I wouldn't believe that, no. But you didn't answer my question."

You roll your eyes, "if I didn't like what I see, would I be standing here gawking at you?"

Joel holds his hand out to you, and when you take it he pulls you closer to the bed, "whatcha gawkin' at, baby?" His gentle smile had turned teasing, almost feral, and his brown eyes grow somehow darker. "These?" Joel brings your hand to his lips, kissing the pad of your thumb gently. "This?" His hand drags yours down the column of his impossibly thick neck, fingertips brushing over his bobbing Adam's apple. He's stretched out to his full height now, laying on his back, watching your eyes intently as he continues to pull your hand lower and lower. "Gawkin' at these, doll?" Your fingers are trailing down Joel's abs, dipping into the valleys between each muscle.

You're mesmerized. You can't break the spell of Joel's gaze on you, of his gravelly voice, of his touch. "Joel…"

"'S ok, baby. Want you to look. Been waiting for you to see me," Joel drags your hand to the waistband of his sweats, stopping to gauge your reaction.

Your fingers twitch, wanting so badly to dip below that waistband, but confused by Joel's words. "I do see you, Joel."

"Not like I see you. You see me as a colleague, a friend. Someone you eat lunch with. You don't see how I feel about you. If you did, this wouldn't be a surprise to you."

"Joel, do you think I'd have asked you to stay if I didn't feel the same way? Think I'd be standing here if I didn't? Do you think I'd…" you trail off, letting your actions speak. You take the lead, slipping your hand, still entwined with Joel's, past the waistband of his sweats to palm at him through his boxers. Joel groans quietly, bucking up into your hands. You feel him grow harder beneath you as you let him guide your hand around him through the thin fabric of his boxers. He unlaces your fingers and places his hand on top of yours, curling it gently against his length. His hips buck again and your hands twist together on the upstroke, your thumb catching right beneath the head of Joel's cock. He hisses, removing his hand from his pants and grabbing both your hips, maneuvering you on top of him, grinding you down against him. Your hands grip his shoulders as you lean down to kiss him, frenzied, messy. You move to trace your tongue across the freckles that had so mesmerized you a minute ago as Joel brings a hand from your hip up to the back of your neck.

"Shit, doll. Need to see you," Joel breathes into your ear as he toys with the neckline of your shirt before he pulls it off over your head; the world seems to stop spinning as he watches your tits spring free. Joel dips his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, palming at the other, pinching gently. You moan softly, and the sound goes straight to Joel's cock, growing impossibly harder.

"Joel," you whisper, his response coming as a quick bite to the nipple in his mouth. "More, need more… need you."

Joel unlatches from your tits and grabs at your shoulders, rolling you both over and right into the wall of pillows. As you both maneuver yourselves around them, you giggle "these didn't really work, did they?"

Joel chuckles before he grabs two of the pillows, giving you one to place under your head. He wraps one arm under your waist, pulling your entire bottom half off the bed as he places the other pillow under your lower back. "Guess not, doll, but we'll put 'em to good use. Tell me whatcha need."

You shimmy out of your bottoms, tossing them somewhere to find later. You hear Joel's breath hitch as he drags his eyes down your whole body. He places his hands gently on your bent knees, giving a slight push and encouraging you to open yourself to his gaze. You don't resist, your legs falling open. You take one of Joel's hands, dragging it from your knee and up your inner thigh. You feel his fingers flex as they slide up your thigh, feel them try and stall when you drag them through your glistening arousal. "Need you here, Joel," you whimper, pushing his fingers against your clit and encouraging him to circle it agonizing slowly.

Joel is entranced. His eyes can't look away from your dripping core, mouth going dry as he sees how you flutter at even his most gentle touch. He uses his free hand to swat yours away, and he continues his slow strumming against your clit. "Lemme hear you, baby," he grunts, "who makes you feel good?"

"You, Joel. Fuck, feels so good," you writhe on the mattress, hips rolling, aching for more of Joel. "Inside, please, need you inside," you whine, grabbing for the waistband of Joel's sweats to pull them down, his heavy cock springing free. You can't help but stare, needing to touch him without the confines of any fabric. You try to fit your hand around him, but can't get your fingers all the way around; you give an experimental stroke, reveling in the way Joel's fingers slow to a stop on your clit, in the way he finally pulls his eyes away from your cunt to gaze at your hand struggling to fit around him. He watches as you swirl your thumb across his leaking tip, muttering a soft, "goddamn." He watches as you line him up with your entrance and he notches the tip in, holding a hand firm on your lower stomach to hold you still.

"Gotta see you come first, doll. Gotta hear you," Joel whispers, dropping his head so his ear rests close to your mouth. His fingers resume their firm circles on your clit, resisting the urge to thrust his length into you. He listens to you moan softly, revels in the steady stream of warm breath that fans against his face. He whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, when you deliver a gentle nibble to his earlobe.

The whimper is what does it. That fucking whimper sends you over the edge. Your vision whites out, your upper body lifts off the mattress, and you sob into Joel's ear, "I, fuck, Joel, I'm…"

"I know, baby, I know you are," Joel coos as he rocks his hips harshly into yours, sheathing his full length inside you in one quick thrust. You grab a discarded pillow, putting it over your face to muffle the loud moan that escapes you. "That's it, baby, shit, you're takin' me so well."

The praise makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Joel sets an unforgiving pace, heavy balls slamming into your ass, his hands under your thighs, pressing your knees up to your chest.

You're so full of Joel, so fucked out already, you start to babble. "So - so sorry I was mean to you, Joel. Don't deserve - shit, so fucking good - don't deserve this."

"Know how you can make it up to me, doll?" Joel asks through gritted teeth. You stare up at him, searching his face for an answer. "Gimme another one, baby. Come all over my cock again and I'll forgive ya. You can do it, come on," Joel continues his encouraging monologue as he pounds impossibly harder and faster into you. He pushes two of his fingers into your mouth and you diligently suck. Joel removes his fingers with a wet pop and pushes them right back onto your clit. He doesn't move them until you beg. "Where ya gonna want me, baby?"

You blush. "My face, Joel."

That fucking whimper again.

You see stars. The pillow is back against your face as you shriek in ecstasy, going rigid before going completely limp against the pillows under you. Before your orgasm had a chance to subside, you feel empty, pussy fluttering around nothing as Joel shimmies up your body, cock in hand. He grabs the pillow from over your mouth and throws it away from you.

"Open up, baby, gonna come on that pretty face."

You moan, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, keeping your eyes on Joel until you feel the first warm splash hit your tongue. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel Joel poke your cheek with the head of his cock, stroking as it spurts wave after wave of hot spend against your skin. His voice is gruff, whispering "oh my God, doll," and "so fucking pretty covered in my cum."

After what feels like an eternity, Joel moves from on top of you. You feel him drag two fingers through the mess on your cheek, then place the fingers onto your tongue, groaning quietly as you lick and suck his fingers clean. He chases the taste of himself, leaning down to kiss you, his tongue invading your mouth, battling yours for dominance. When he pulls away, you whimper; Joel chuckles. "You're a mess, baby. I'll be right back."

You hear the sink running in the bathroom, then feel Joel swipe the remaining mess off your face with a damp washcloth. When he's finished, you open your eyes, committing his post-fuck face to memory. He's flushed, tired, but wears a goofy, lopsided smile. His eyes are back to their everyday deep brown, big and warm, but crinkled at the edges from his grin.

You're too tired to look for your clothes, pulling the blankets over you, reaching for Joel as you feel him lay down beside you. He lays on his back, pulling you against his side.

"I meant what I said, Joel. I am sorry for how I acted when we first met."

"Doll," Joel chuckles, "'m gonna need you to keep being that mean to me, if this is how you apologize."

[chrissv4mp]

i'll love you 'til the day that i die! MATT S.

summary: you and matt have been frenemies since the 8th grade. when you both go to homecoming, you get picked for homecoming queen, and chris is your king. matt can't help but storm outside of the school angrily.

pairing: matt sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings/topics: arguments, vulgar language, fluff, sorta angst, confessions, highschool au, etc.

a/n: LOVE THIS SONG SMSMSMS also this probably makes no sense towards the end cause i was purely running on 2 bottles of water😖

"matt," you exclaimed, running into his room without any warning.

he jumped a little, eyes snapping toward the direction of his bedroom door.

you took a seat at his desk, pushing yourself toward his bed with your feet before spinning around to face him.

"why do you have so much energy this early in the morning?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken up a few minutes ago.

"cause, i just got big news? and, sorry for being so happy to see you?" you joked, rolling your eyes and leaning back in the chair.

matt hummed in curiosity, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it look better, "and what's the news?"

you almost couldn't stay still, changing the way you were sitting every moment or so.

"i got nominated for homecoming queen!" you all but yelled, making matt flinch slightly at the loud noise.

his smile was small, but very smug as if he was gonna say something to bring you down.

he could never shut his mouth whenever you brought up something good that happened to you, he always had to one-up you.

"cool, cool, but i've gotten nominated for homecoming king like years in a row. it's nothing big to be nominated once," he shrugged, keeping direct eye contact with you and watching as your face contorted into a subtle look of sadness.

your frown was small, and if matt hadn't been the one to trigger it, then he probably wouldn't have noticed.

he always did this, and you should've been used to it by now. but, god, did matt know how to push your buttons.

"yeah, well, i didn't see your name on there this time. you're not someone special, y'know?" you laughed, trying to hide your frustration.

matt's grin only widened at your words, "huh. well, it'll be there by tonight. those girls can't resist my charm, not even you, y/n."

"shut up. nobody wants a homecoming king that's an asshole to every girl he meets." you groaned, crossing your arms over each other.

"maybe, but you're the only girl i dislike at the school." matt bit back, leaning against his headboard as he stared you down.

you let out a quiet huff, looking around his room and letting your eyes land on the corkboard he had on the wall opposite his closet.

there were letters, pictures, and polaroids of all of his friends. and in one corner, there was a polaroid of you and him at the beach.

there was writing below it, 'i want u to stay 'till i'm in the grave<3' it was in dark blue sharpie.

your lips upturned into a small smile. he didn't hate you. he never really could, even if he tried.

"doesn't seem like you dislike me," you broke the silence, pointing over at the board.

matt's smile dropped, and his face flushed a soft pink color as he sat up straight. "just get out, would you!"

you giggled to yourself as you got off his chair, not forgetting to give him the middle finger before closing his door and walking back down the hall.

nick looked up from the sink as he heard your footsteps walking past the kitchen, turning around to look at you.

"bye, y/n," he smiled softly, waving over at you and accidently splashing water on the kitchen counter.

"see you later, nick," you smiled, waving back before resuming your walk down the stairs and out of the house.

"birds of a feather," chris said, breaking the silence between the four of you.

nick raised an eyebrow, looking to the side to see if chris was talking to him.

the younger boy was pointing over at you and matt, at the opposite end of the booth you all were sitting at.

"what?" matt laughed over the loud chatter of the cafeteria, crossing his arms before looking over at you.

you were confused just as he was, staring over at chris with an unsure look on your face, "right... and what are you yapping on about this time?"

chris looked dumbfounded, staring at the three of you in disbelief as he scoffed, "you guys seriously don't know that saying? i thought you were older than me."

"by, like, 2 seconds?" nick said, leaning on the table as he picked at the cafeteria food with a plastic fork.

chris punched his brother softly, rolling his eyes before explaining, "birds of a feather flock together, it basically means you guys are alike in one way or another."

matt laughed, looking over at you before giving his attention back to chris, "we are nothing alike, trust me. she's horrible at communicating, and i'm amazing at it. i'm popular. she's not."

"yeah, he's stupid, and i'm smart. remind me how we're alike, again?" matt looked away at your remark, silently mocking you.

"look at your outfits right now, if i didn't know any better i would think you guys are matching." chris pointed out, nodding his head in your direction.

nick nodded, "he's right, you guys look like a couple."

both yours and matts face flushed bright pink, and you looked seperate ways, embarrassment washing over the two of you.

"yeah, more like a couple of friends." you forced out, looking back up at nick and chris.

nick raised his eyebrows, looking away.

"and not to mention the many times you both have said the same phrase. like, tell me you hang out too much without telling me you hang out too much?" chris joked, laughing at himself.

nick chuckled quietly, nodding his head in agreement with his brothers.

"that's a coincidence." you mumbled, sitting up straight.

"it's happened more than i can count, i don't think it's a coincidence of any sort." nick said, looking over at matt, who just dragged his hands down his face.

"well, whatever. not like it's gonna last forever," matt said, and before anyone could reply, he stood up and left to his next class.

the bell rang a few seconds after, and you, nick, and chris gave each other confused looks.

"sorry, y/n. he's probably just had a rough day, i promise you he doesn't mean it." nick reassured you, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

he left a few moments later, and chris stayed with you.

"don't take it to heart, 'kay?" chris muttered softly, smiling at you.

you nodded, and chris began to add on, "i've seen him cry over you. he tells me he doesn't know why. all he says is that he doesn't think he could love you more than he already does."

nodding, smiling softly before watching chris get up and leave. now it was just you and your thoughts at the table alone.

huh. who would've thought matthew sturniolo, one of the most popular guys at school, would be crying over you, quiet, kept to herself, y/n l/n?

you couldn't tease him about it, you did the same thing for him. you always cried over matt, not even knowing why because he had never really hurt you.

you always just sobbed to nick about how you would love him 'til the day that he dies. and after those words registered in your head, you only cried more at the thought of matt dying.

but those nights, you were usually drunk or super high. nick always knew how to calm you down, though, he was always there for you whenever you needed.

matt had also occasionally been there for you in your lowest times, never hesitating to break the speed limit getting to your house.

he always confronted the boys that had stood you up, never let anyone talk bad about you or even give you dirty looks. even if he didn't consider you a friend, you thought of him as one.

"i just don't understand," matt whispered shakily as he looked up at the night sky, stars scattered all around and lighting the place around in just the slightest.

you sat next to him, fingers playing with the blanket the both of you were on, "what don't you understand?"

he shrugged, "i don't understand how anyone could love me."

your neck snapped in his direction, eyes widening a little as a million thoughts came to your mind.

you wanted him to see how he looked in your eyes. he was the funniest, most handsome, kind boy you have ever met (even if he did occasionally tick you off).

you wanted him to know how many subtle compliments you gave him that he never noticed, but still took.

but then again, you wanted to just tell him how he was so full of shit. he knew that anyone and everyone was capable of loving him.

he knew that he could get anyone wrapped around his finger in less than a week. hell, he sure got you wrapped around his finger in just a matter of 2 days.

"i just don't get what people see in me. sometimes i just want to quit everything i do at the thought of it." matt added, finally turning his head to look at you.

your gaze softened as he looked you in the eyes, a subtle look of concern plastered on your face as you reached out to pat his shoulder.

"don't be stupid, matthew. i think that if anyone even glanced in your direction, they would instantly fall in love. you're all any girl would want."

matt smiled, and you reached over to move his hair to see his face better. he was truly beautiful. you couldn't ever get tired of the sight of him.

"you really think that?" matt asked, and there was just the tiniest hint of smugness in his voice.

you nodded, tilting your head to see matt better in the pale moonlight.

"i do," you whispered, and before matt could speak, you cut him off, "and don't ruin this moment with one of your stupid remarks, matthew."

matt's lips parted, but he chose to stay silent. he was grateful for moments like this with you, when it was just you two alone and nobody else.

he loved being alone with you, especially late at night when you guys would have these deep talks. no words spoken here would ever leave, neither of you would bring those topics up.

it was a nice feeling, one that made him feel safe and secure in your presence.

as the months passed by and new memories with you were made, matt felt like you were slowly creeping into his heart, invading all of his senses.

all he could think about was you now, and he couldn't ever get you out of his head. not even when he was in boston, more than 2,000 miles away from you.

it came so fast, and you almost couldn't believe that you were standing outside of your high-school with your best friends, all dressed formally.

you were wearing a satin dark blue dress that went down to your knees, while matt and chris were wearing suits and ties.

matt's suit was navy blue, his dress pants being white to match with chris, who was wearing a white suit and navy blue dress pants.

nick wore an all blue suit, his tie being the only white thing on his outfit besides from his collared shirt he wore underneath the suit.

"holy shit, you're stunning, y/n!" nick exclaimed, stretching his arms out before you hugged him tightly.

he smiled into your hair, patting your back before pulling away from your embrace.

"talk about stunning, look at yourself, nicolas! you look amazing, blue looks beautiful on you." you complimented, smiling up at him before walking to stand beside him.

he interlocked your arms, and you finally got the chance to look over matt and chris' suits.

"we look better than you guys ever could," matt said, swinging his arm over chris' shoulder and pulling him closer.

chris smiled, nodding in agreement as he wrapped his arm around matt's waist.

"i don't know, y/n's dress might beat us." the younger boy shrugged, to which matt rolled his eyes at.

"you tell yourselves whatever you want, we're gonna go inside to get the night started," nick stated, pushing past chris and matt and purposely shoving matt playfully.

the two brunette boys weren't slow to follow you and nick, chris rushing in front of you to hold the door open.

when the four of you got intonthe gym, it immediately felt like you guys were gonna have the best night ever.

the lighting was a darker blue, illuminating all the bodies beneath it and capturing every small movement the kids made.

"wow," you whispered, and nick echoed you.

"hello, and welcome, los angeles lions to our 34th annual homecoming dance!" madi exclaimed into the microphone, her eyes scanning the paper she was holding.

the school cheered in excitement, and chris screamed out an encouragement for madi.

she smiled at all the familiar faces before leaning into the microphone to read from the paper again, "these past few weeks have been a little chaotic with all of the new nominees for both homecoming queen, and homecoming king, and tonight won't be any less chaotic."

"now, i'm honored to welcome up on stage the nominees for homecoming queen," madi spoke before flipping the paper over to the other side.

she read over the names, and a big smile came to her face when her eyes landed on the first one.

"please welcome up to the stage y/n l/n," she said, her smile frowing impossibly wider.

chris and nick shoved you around playfully before you finally came to your senses and ran up to the stage. it was an unreal experience, being one of the nominees, you felt like you couldn't compare to any of the other girls.

"alahna estrella," madi said, reading a few more names over the loud cheering of the students before she moved onto the boys.

the gym went silent once madi announced that she would be calling up the boys for homecoming king, now.

"now, i'm very happy to call up to the stage one of the very popular sturniolo triplets..."

matt got ready to walk up to the stage, but when the name fell from madi's mouth, he froze in shock.

"christopher sturniolo!" she said happily, clapping along with the other students.

your eyes widened at the sound of chris' name being called, and you clapped for him.

nick watched as chris made his way up the stairs onto the stage, yelling out his name and clapping for his brother.

matt clapped slowly, the realization that he wouldn't get to be the homecoming king washing over him. whatever, it didn't matter anyway because he already had 3 crowns from past years.

more names were called, and even nate was invited up to the stage as a nominee for homecoming king.

when the crowd settled down, madi had began to speak again, "now, the announcement that we've all been waiting for... this year's homecoming king is.."

madi's eye widened in surprise before she smiled big and read off his name, "christopher sturniolo!"

matt sighed, clapping for his brother. he was happy sure, but then again he was jealous. things always went his way, and he just wasn't ready for this happen.

was he being selfish?

after chris was crowned homecoming king, he stood beside madi up on the stage, smiling big at all the students of his high-school.

"and, for your homecoming queen. this year's homecoming queen is y/n l/n!" madi said, clapping proudly at you as she watched you get crowned.

you couldn't believe it. it felt surreal, like you were in a dream you couldn't wake up from. as you walked over to chris, he pulled you into a huge hug, muttering a quiet, "congratulations." into your ear.

madi took yours and chris' hand as she walked back up to the mic, bringing all of your hands into the air as she yelled out into the microphone.

"please give big love to our new homecoming king and queen, y/n and chris!"

the students cheered, some jumping up and down out of excitement as they screamed their hearts out.

matt huffed angrily, jumping out of his seat before pushing his way past multiple people to get to the exit.

he didn't go unnoticed by you, your eyes following him as he stormed out of the gymnasium.

you were surprised the door hadn't made a sound, it looked like he slammed into the door without even flinching.

"shit," you whispered, worry flashing over your features.

as soon as you got off stage, you ran out of the gym, ignoring all of the people who tried to congratulate you on your way down.

you ran outside of the school, turning every way to try and spot matt. when you did, his eyes locked with yours.

he was sat on the sidewalk, a streetlight illuminating his face as the spotlights had done inside.

you ran over to him, taking a seat next to him and scooting close to him.

it was silent for a few minutes. the two of you just absorbed in all of your thoughts about what just happened.

"congratulations on homecoming queen, i'm happy for you." matt said, looking over into your eyes.

you smiled, "thanks."

"sorry you weren't nominated, i thought you would have been considering you have been every other year." you apologized, and matt shook his head softly.

it wasn't just that, it was the fact that his brother was your homecoming king. it was the knowledge that matt would never get to be your king.

it was the fact that he would never get to be yours.

"i'm sorry, i just can't do this anymore, y/n." matt stood up from his spot, and you looked up at him.

you raised an eyebrow, worry still lingering in your head from matt's earlier outburst, "what? you can't do what?"

you stood up next, now face to face with the boy you both hated and loved the most.

"i just don't understand what we are, what i mean to you and what you even think of me. you keep giving me these fucking mixed signals and i don't know how to interpret them!" matt held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an effort to calm himself down.

you swore you felt your heart shatter at his words. maybe this wasn't gonna be the best night you've ever had.

"what- mixed signals? i.. matt, what are you talking about?" you thought you knew what he was getting at, but as the words came out of your mouth, the thoughts fled from your mind.

matt muttered inaudible words before he finally spoke clearly, "you keep pushing me away and then pulling me back again, and i don't know what to do, y/n."

"do you want me, or am i just some guy you're toying with to get popularity? one minute you're nice and you have my back, and the next you're so fucking cold it's like i'm not even there, like you don't even care about me."

your eyebrows furrowed, he was explaining exactly how he made you feel.

"don't be a hypocrite, matt. i don't even act that way, you're explaining exactly what you make me think. i have all these thoughts and ideas i want to share with you, but when i do, you come over and push them down. why would i even want popularity? i don't give a shit about it, matt!"

"why do you do this to me, seriously?" your voice cracked, and only then did matt realize you were crying.

he groaned, taking small paces back and forth as he breathed heavily.

when he stopped, he was right in front of you, gaze soft as he stared into your e/c eyes.

"because i love you," he finally spilled it, and he didn't regret it. not at all.

the look on your face was not at all what he was expecting. he thought you might he disgusted or even angry.

"don't act so surprised, y/n." he said quietly, cupping your face with his hands.

they were cold, but you still leaned into his touch as he wiped away your tears.

he pulled you closer to him, and you ended up in his arms as you began to calm down. "god, i hate you, matt."

"yeah? well i'll love you 'till the day that i die." he muttered softly.

you laughed quietly, punching him playfully before pulling away.

he stayed silent, a soft smile on his face. as he continued to stare at you, he started to realize more and more things.

one thing he realized was that he never wanted to say goodbye.

maybe chris was right. maybe you two were birds of a feather.

. . . . . . . . .

tags: @cindylcuwho

[reds-writings]

bird in a cage

(pairing: crash!rust cohle x f!reader)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: a bit of a concept fic surrounding rust in his crash era i've had in the drafts. if you would like more let me know 🫣. y'know i love me some feedback

warnings: men being gross, ginger, hints at prostitution, ginger, language, sexism, etc (let me know if i missed anything!)

There was something almost eerie about Crash whenever you got the chance to be in actual proximity to him. Something lost. 

Something broken. 

It made you want to hide away anytime those tortured eyes met yours. Like you were in the wrong, an intruder of some extreme fortitude of privacy. Heavy and asphyxiating.

Despite your trepidation around Ginger’s righthand man, there was always an underlying thirst to know more. 

He was a handsome fella. You’d be stupid to deny it. All the other girls around knew it too and had no shame in chittering every chance they got ever since he manifested into your lives in the extreme bore that was East Texas.  

Ginger wouldn’t let you speak much to him. Although, that wasn’t entirely uncommon since the fucker wouldn’t let you speak to anyone much at all.

Just sit there and look pretty, doll. You’re ass ain’t good for much the fuck else. He’d say. Damning you to be some cheap whore in an even cheaper cage til the day you got ugly or died.

You’d never anticipated this is where you would end up in life. You’re sure not many girls do but thanks to your pathetic shit-heel of a brother who got himself tied up in some irreversible mess you’re now indebted to a gang leader who thought doing you a mercy was enslaving you to work for him for the rest of your days. 

Some nights you dreamed of putting one right between his bloodshot baby blues. God knows the world could do with one less of a son of a bitch like him. Gruesome consequences that’d be sure to follow be damned. 

The night air was cooler than usual, offering a small reprieve to your sun-tightened skin. You’re sure by age 40 you’d look no better than some beat-up leather couch left on the side of the road. Any money you did get to keep wasn’t prioritized for shit like sunscreen or maybe even fancy aloe like those girly cosmetic magazines you’d sneak mentioned. 

The bonfire tonight was a busy affair. Ginger made some big steal so that granted cause for some hearty celebration. Most of the men seemed to be in a nicer mood than usual, but you made no effort to leave your post on an old bourbon crate in the background. Any peace to oneself around here was a blessing and you were gonna take as much of it in as you could. 

Tired fingers fumbled with your lighter, you’d been meaning to get a new one but finding a moment to step away from the Crusaders was harder to come by than one probably thought.

By the look of your chipped nails, you could do with swiping that new shade of OPI that caught your eye in the corner store some weeks ago too.

“Didn’t peg you as a wallflower.” Your solitude was shattered by the presence of a rumbled drawl. Nearly having your poor soul shooting out your body. Whipping your head in the direction of the unfamiliar timbre you almost did a double take. 

There Crash stood, looking almost indifferent despite being the one to walk up to you in the first place. He wore some weathered-looking muscle tank repping a band you had no knowledge of and a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days. Up close you got to take in just how well-built he was. Sure, Ginger was a hefty man, but Crash had definition to him. Like something out of a poster blushing teens would have of some heartthrob idol shamelessly plastered on their bedroom wall. 

His face was a whole other story, one you wouldn’t bother getting all wax poetic about. As pretty as it was. 

Snapping out of your short-lived reverie you huffed something resembling a scoff, 

“Didn’t know you could speak. Let alone leave Ginger’s side for more than a few minutes.”

In the dim lighting, you couldn’t initially make out whether or not that had amused him, but the glowing orange hue from the tip of his own cigarette highlighted the ghost of a smirk adorning the corner of his thin lips. It had you picking at the frayed edge of your shorts to not look so childishly in awe. 

“You got a light?” You pushed forward and asked. He shook his head no but instead offered his cigarette wordlessly. The act stilled you, but you took the small offering nonetheless, inexplicably entranced after only a few words from the man. 

Those eyes of his tracked your every move as you brought the cigarette to your lips. You tried with every fiber of your being not to be affected by this strangely intimate ripple of time you’ve just stepped into. To not let your thoughts drift to the fact that those same lips were just where yours are currently as you inhale acrid smoke.

You don’t feel all that successful.

“Camels. That’s surprising.” You exhale, flicking the ash as casually as one could in this scenario. You prayed Ginger wouldn’t notice his absence any time soon. Something resembling greed regarding Crash’s attention sinking its claws into you.

“Hm…how so.” He took it back from your grasp, the action strikingly gentle. 

“All you rough boys out here smoke Reds. Hell, you even look like one of those Marlboro cowboys in the ads.” 

“Should I be flattered?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know about all the girls around here just positively gushing over you. You don’t strike me as the naive type.” 

“You know cause you one of em’?”

That shut you right up. Though only for a second. If he could feel the growing heat radiating from your cheeks he made no sign of it.

“Careful now, wouldn’t wanna sound too cocky.” You sassed, looking past him at the partygoers. His gaze felt penetrating and you couldn’t figure out for the life of you where this sudden interest to talk to you came from. There was no chance in hell of entertaining a single thing with Crash. Ginger would skin you alive for even catching you like this, as plain of an encounter as it was. This was more trouble than it’d ever be worth. 

But there was not a fathomable force that could seem to pull you away. 

“You’re different. Than the others I mean. You stand out.” Was what clambered from your mouth as you looked back at him. 

It was true despite its clumsy admittance. Even though you’d never said so much as a hello to each other Crash was different. He never bothered you. Never jumped at the chance to use you like some piece of meat. You wouldn’t say he went as far to outright show blatant respect, but he gave you space to exist unlike anyone else had. 

He didn’t so much as flinch at the statement. 

“Could say the same about you.” That alone had a cold shock similar to that of an ice bath encasing your entire being. It was a casual reply, but between the lines, you knew what he was saying. 

He saw you. 

No one ever saw you. You were a nobody. Just a warm vessel to sacrifice to the selfish woes of pigs disguised as men. You weren’t meant to have thoughts or feelings. Likes or dislikes. You were just there. 

Yet he noticed you regardless and you hadn’t ever brought attention to the possibility that he could in the first place.

You didn’t know something so small and noncommittal could make the sting of saline burn at the backs of your eyes. You felt like every existing nerve within you had been exposed but when continuing to stare at him, he held no judgment. That brokenness that took home in his stare was replaced by something else. A curiosity. 

Much akin to the same type you let fester for him over these past several months. 

The smoldering cigarette dangled from his lips, though you didn’t dare let yourself catch a glimpse, as a large hand hesitantly reached towards your face. The rough pad of his thumb scarcely graced the fragile skin beneath your eye to brace a blooming tear. 

The simple touch was indescribable. Something you never thought you could know for yourself. 

All you could think about was how warm he was.

“Birdy! Where the hell are you, girl? Get over here!” Came Ginger’s sudden drunken hollering, the moment doused in the shroud of reality as you all but jumped away. Crash’s arm stayed frozen in mid-air, his once prodding stare almost muted in agitation at the Crusader’s crude interruption. 

You shakily wiped at any reminisce of emotion, fiddling with your hair as if you’d been caught doing something more than just simply talking. Guilt and fear bore onto your shoulders like a burdensome cloak in record time. You needed to go before Ginger got too antsy. 

Looking back up at Crash, you were met with that same indifference as if the moment was just some figment of your imagination. Stewing in the sudden change would only lead to unnecessary embarrassment so all you could do was utter a quick ‘bye’ as you stumbled off towards the bonfire, heart racing something worrisome. Off to where you’d be reduced back to feeling like the piece of nothing you always were. 

It took all the willpower in you to ignore the lingering burn of the lost man’s stare and keep on toward everything you’d come to detest in your life. 

[tinycoffeeroom]

new home | arthur hill

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hey saw you were looking for requests for Arthur hill maybe like going on your first holiday together or like moving in together x

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👤 arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 18,028 others

y/nstagram all moved in ! new roomie seems ok, he keeps singing a song about an old cowboy though?

arthurnfhill FEEL LIKE JOHN WAYNE ↳ fan RIDING THROUGH THE CITY ON MY OWN ↳ fan JUST AN OUTLAW ON HIS WAY HOME ↳ fan THE GOOD THE BAD THE UGLY ↳ fan I'VE SEEN IT ALL ↳ y/nstagram thanks for the karaoke guys x

lisahull_hill my big boy all grown up :( can't wait to come see what you do with the place x ↳ arthurnfhill mum i've not lived at home for years... ↳ lisahull_hill you've never lived with a girlfriend though! x ↳ y/nstagram lisa i need you to come round soon and help me i'm about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions x ↳ lisahull_hill i'll pop round tomorrow x

fan why is the champagne in the sink tho ↳ y/nstagram freezer machine Broke ↳ y/nstagram on a real note though, fuck currys bc WHY has our freezer been delayed by a week ↳ fan i'll fight them queen ♥️ y/nstagram

fan the books... can't wait to see the book nook!!! ↳ y/nstagram i'm so excited!!! annoyed arthur half to death talking about different bookcase options but i found a gorgeous set on facebook marketplace and its gonna look SO GOOD!! ↳ fan pls give us a tour!!!! ↳ y/nstagram keep a look out on my stories xx

georgeclarkeey it's not too late to come home arthur, your side of the bed feels so empty x ↳ y/nstagram womp womp go shag the other arthur or something ↳ georgeclarkeey he won't open his door :( ↳ arthurtv im protecting my peace ↳ georgeclarkeey im grieving the loss of my boyfriend and you won't even give me a cuddle </3 ↳ arthurnfhill i'm not dead????? ↳ georgeclarkeey it's like i can still hear his voice sometimes... ↳ arthurnfhill i hate it here

bffstagram georgeclarkeey can u have arthur over the weekend, i want a girls night with my gf x ↳ georgeclarkeey only if you take him back on the monday, i have stuff to do ↳ arthurnfhill feeling very much like basil right now ↳ willne uncalled for? ↳ miaxmon i have sole custody of basil pls delete arthur it's a sore spot for will ↳ arthurnfhill only if he apologises for making fun of my mullet AND THEN getting one himself ↳ willne y'know what the basil jokes aren't too bad

fan need a relationship like theirs PLEASE ↳ arthurnfhill all she does is bully me??? seek help ↳ y/nstagram ARTHUR i only bully you like 50% of the time... and you do it too ↳ arthurnfhill i would never bully my girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram the notebook night? ↳ arthurnfhill ok point taken ↳ fan parents <3 ♥️ y/nstagram, arthurnfhill

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Even with all the preparation that had gone into the move, you were still unprepared for the overwhelming amount of boxes that lined the halls of your new flat.

You and Arthur had discussed the idea of buying a house, but with his job being based in central London and the two of you still being young, renting a flat seemed like the best option before diving head first into the nightmare that was mortgages and white picket fences.

The first night the two of you moved in, only the TV and mattress had been unpacked, the stress of bringing all the boxes in tiring the both of you out to the point where the mattress lay haphazardly in the middle of the room and the TV lay slanted against the living room wall.

Arthur lay beside you, eyes half heartedly looking through Uber Eats open on his phone. "Chinese or Indian?"

You took a moment, trying to decipher what you would prefer most. "Hmm, maybe pizza? The other two require utensils and to be honest, I have no idea where our kitchen stuff is."

Arthur hums in response, turning his head to look past you. "I'm pretty sure they're in the bathroom, I think I tripped over our bowls when I went to pee."

Exhaustion must be catching up to you as you don't even question how the boxes labelled "KITCHEN" in black sharpie had ended up there.

After the pizza had been ordered, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, the quiet drone of whichever episode of Friends was queued on the TV floating through the air. A bottle of red wine had been opened at some point and the two half full glasses sit precariously on fake wood floors.

You must have slightly fallen asleep at some point, coming around to the smell of freshly cooked dough and a smiling Arthur staring down at you.

"You were dead to the world, not even the sound of me stacking it over our bathroom towels could wake you." He laughs at the memory, sitting down beside you and handing you a box.

You raise the lid, welcoming the mouthwatering scent of pizza as you shuffle up to sit. "I could smell the pizza."

Arthur guffaws around the piece stuffed halfway into his mouth, eyeing you playfully. "Of course it was the food that raised you from the dead."

Shoving his shoulder with your own, you tuck into the meal in front of you, eyes tuned on the TV as The One with All the Thanksgivings starts playing.

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arthurnfhill uploaded 3 pictures to their story

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y/nstagram uploaded three photos to their story

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It had been a stressful few days. You weren't lying when you told Lisa you were about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions. Luckily, she'd popped round the next day, armed with a small mini fridge and freezer which she made Arthur carry into the house. You could have cried when she produced a cute "congratulations on your new home" card and a bouquet of sunflowers.

The two of you sat on the half put together sofa and scoured the Dunelm website for all their cushion options, opting for some light brown teddy bear ones and some darker brown velvet cushions. Arthur stayed out of the interior design chat, instead opting to run some water into a pint glass for the flowers and bring over two cups of tea for both of you before he disappeared off into his studio room to sort out the wiring.

"Typical man, leaving us to make the place look pretty."

You giggled at Lisa's comment, pointing out the framed artworks sitting propped against the wall. "He picked those out, to be fair to him. We decided he'd do the decorating and I'd just focus on the furnishings."

You continued on your Dunelm hunt, bookmarking everything you thought would look good in your new home, Lisa throwing in a few suggestions as to what you may need. By the time the two of you felt you had sufficiently scoured the website, it was nearing dinner time. Arthur popped his head round the corner to ask if you wanted him to run out and grab something to eat, but Lisa shook off his question, grabbing your hand and her car keys.

"Y/N, we'll nip out now and pick up a few bits, including a vase," she eyed the pint glass begging to tip over, "and we'll pick up some dinner too."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, smiling at how Lisa had taken you under her wing. Ever since he'd introduced the two of you, she'd taken an immediate shining to you, often sending you silly pictures that reminded her of you or organising coffee dates for the both of you to catch up.

One round trip for a vase and some cleaning essentials as well as a nice pub that did takeaway carveries later, you and Lisa bundle through the front door, giggling about the man in the elevator who had assumed the two of you were mother and daughter. Lisa had replied a cheeky "not yet" and had thrown a wink your way.

Arthur had moved from his studio to the living room, head popping over the back of the sofa at the sound of the two of you laughing. "What did I miss?"

One look at Lisa had you both giggling again, waving Arthur off as you unpacked the takeaway bowls of carvery and scoured the boxes for cutlery.

Arthur eyed the two of you warily, directing his mum to the sofa as he came to search for some glasses for the bottles of Coke you had picked up as well. Dropping a small kiss to the back of your neck, he smiled fondly when your eyes meet.

"This is nice."

You hummed, working on taking off the plastic lids. "Yeah, we were lucky to find the pub, Google Maps was useless."

He shook his head, one arm wrapping around your waist as he looks at his mum setting in on the sofa. "No, I mean this. Being sat in our home and listening to you and Mum laughing about god knows what. I was so worried when I introduced you that she wouldn't like you, I don't even know why, it's impossible to hate you. But, it's nice. I'm happy."

You turned in his grasp, hand coming to rest on the side of his neck. A soft smile overtook your lips at the serene expression on his face. "I'm happy too. I'm glad we did this. I love you."

He matched your smile, a small "I love you too" passing his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to yours.

"Hey, hungry mum over here!"

Lisa's voice broke the bubble around the two of you, both of you looking over to see Lisa smiling fondly from the sofa.

"My apologies, dear Lisa, let me bring it over now!" Laughing softly, you press one last kiss to Arthur's lips before sliding out of his embrace.

The three of you eat in comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the TV and the occasional comment about the dinner from one of you.

The sun had long since set and you and Arthur tried to convince Lisa to stay, but she shook her head, stating the two of you needed your own space and left soon after, leaving behind warm hugs and a kiss to both of your heads.

Choosing to tidy up tomorrow, you both head to bed. You slid in first, welcoming Arthur's warm embrace as you settle in for the night. He peppered soft kisses to your shoulder blade, nuzzling his head into the spot afterwards. "Goodnight, I love you."

Brushing a hand through his unruly hair, you dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. "I love you too." Taking in the surprising quietness of central London, you closed your eyes, excited to wake up to a new day in your new home.

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y/nstagram uploaded three photos to their story

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a/n: love love loveeeeee doing arthur hill requests <3 had to include my queen lisa x

[kookslastbutton]

prove it to me ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: "I'm not your baby Jungkook. Remember that." Those are the words you say right before jumping into a one night stand with Jeon Jungkook, the man who's constantly annoying you with his college fling stories. You decide maybe just this once you'll play into his game and prove that he's no more average than the rest.

Pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x fem!reader

AU/genre: PWP, smut, humor, fluff, one-sided e2l, friend of friends, oneshot (for now?)

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 5.3k+

Warnings: arguing, swearing, sexual tension, denial of feelin’s, kook’s kind of an @$$ but he got some truth to him, oc's jaded & not buying into kook's bs, myg being a good friend then ditching lmao, kook likes calling oc petnames, kook is bunny boy

sexually explicit content: dom!jk, switch sub!reader, semi-awkward first kiss, unprotected s*x (pls stay safe everyone!!), teasing, foreplay, dirty talk, some manhandling, rough sex, t*itty suck, f*ngering, penetration, cunnilingus, doggy, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), kooks calls her pretty girl, some degradation/dumbification (sl*t calling) & oc has bit of an actual dumby moment but she's still fairly rigid, but not a full brat? Lmao idk

Now playing: Monster in me, Breakfast, LOUD

A/N: ahdjsj?c it's here! 👉👈 a thousand apologies that this is out way later than planned! Uni getting most of my time 😟 But its here and I'm so pumped to share it with you guys!! Hope you enjoy 😗💕

Taglist:

@marcoazz2 @demiec0re @jcrl99 @muah-minhoe-8 @whoa-jo @jeongukkieeeeeeee @sweet4jenni @chanjwl @kimtaesss @jexizia @vexstrils @notchia @dollypoetry @cherrysoulth @burnahtsw @icantpickabiasugh @megaamonn

Jung freaking kook. Just look at him sitting over there, half-naked and wet. Sure, he’s got a towel thrown over a shoulder but it’s so small it’s doing fuck all to dry him off. Obviously he chose it on purpose. He thinks he’s such hot shit but you think he looks like a drowned rat.

And look! He’s got Namjoon’s apartment floor drenched with the pool water he tracked in! Man, if this was your place you’d be handing him a nice mop and bucket right about now.

"They were begging me to go a fourth round, but I was winding down, y'know?" Jungkook's voice echos obnoxiously off the walls. You mentally roll your eyes. He’s got a big mouth too. This must be your twentieth time hearing the same spiel about his little rendezvous with two chicks during undergrad. News flash Jungkook, you're not a god!

The guys are into it, though. You scan the room. Hoseok's on the verge of drooling, and Jimin can't stop grinning. Namjoon and Seokjin are leaning back in their seats, slight smirks pulling at the corners of their mouths. And Taehyung? Don't even get started on him. The man excused himself for the bathroom about ten minutes ago and is still yet to return.

Men. You decided to spend your one free Saturday with men.

You should have accepted Soyeon's offer to go drinking instead. This was the downside of being one of the only females in this so-called "friend group". None of your girlfriends were here! Sure, other women were around, but they were far too busy slinging themselves all over that perfectly chiseled bod–no.

Don't finish that thought.

Lots of guys go to the gym, __. Jungkook is nothing special. These women are obviously brainwashed; unlike them, you don't have time for his little boy games. It's time to get out of here.

"Okay, well, I'm heading out. Nice seeing everyone," you say, rising from your seat.

Jimin whips his head around. "What, already? We haven't gotten to the good part yet."

“There’s a good part?" You scoff. “Or, you mean Jungkook making girl number two squirt all over the bed? Heard it before, don't need to hear it again."

"It was girl number one," Jungkook butts in, eager to correct.

Whatever. You swing the apartment door open, phone and keys in hand. "See most of you on work Monday." You allow the door to slam behind you.

"She okay?" Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, wheels turn in his head.

"Don't worry about her. Work's probably got her beat." Namjoon cracks open a can of beer unfazed.

Jungkook nods, chewing on the bottom of his lip. "Does she–"

"The answer's no. __ doesn't need a good fuck, so put those thoughts away."

Shit, Jungkook swears internally.

Monday morning comes like hell on your doorstep. You're groggy when you wake up, barely getting to the shower. You considered skipping the ritual entirely but couldn't, not with how gross you felt. Project deadlines were right on your tail too, so you needed to either slap yourself awake or kiss your precious job promotion goodbye. You choose the later.

"Hey Minji, how are those files coming along?" You round the corner of the small office. It's 10 o'clock now, and everyone is typing, scanning, copying, and making phone calls until steam comes out of their ears.

"Almost finished." Your coworker, only a few years younger, responds. "Just have to tie up some loose ends, and then I'll hand them to you for review."

"Great. Thanks for–" You pause when you catch a slight grin spreading across Minji's face. Despite all the chaos today, Minji's definitely been the most cheerful. "You seem really happy today. Something good happened recently?"

Minji suppresses the grin and squeezes her palms in her lap. “Nothing in particular. Just glad to be a part of the team."

"Yeah, right!" Hoseok sends a knowing smirk, nearing the two of you. "Someone had a busy night last night, huh? It's okay. __ is cool. You can tell her anything." Once close enough, your coworker pulls you into a casual side hug.

You grimace. It feels weird while at the office.

"Do you mind?" You shrug him off. "It's work hours."

"Well, actually," Minji starts, cheeks rising. "It's nothing like that. I'm going on a date tonight. I'm just a little excited."

Hoseok's mouth forms an 'o', eyes widening. "Really? Who is it?"

"Uh, his name's Jeon–"

"Jungkook?” Jimin’s head pokes up from across the cubicle. Eavesdropping as usual.

"No…," Minji replies. "Who's Jungkook?"

"He's just a close friend of ours." Hoseok gestures between the three of you. “He’s Jeon Jungkook.”

"He's only you guy's friend," you say bitterly. Considering that player as a friend is pushing it for you. Really pushing it.

"C'mon, what's with you and Jungkook?" Jimin says, shooting you a borderline glare. "You've had bad blood with the guy since you met him.”

"Oh, don't start with me Park,” you fold your arms. "You know exactly why I feel the way I do."

You think he'll have a comeback, but he doesn't. Jimin simply sighs and returns to his work. Figures he'd be the one to jump to Jungkook's defense. The man practically idolizes him. That, and he's been best friends with him for the past eight years. Loyalty sure has its perks.

"So! If it's not Jungkook, who's the guy?" Hoseok asks, hoping to switch the topic around.

Minji jolts up in her seat. “Wonwoo," she says. “His name’s Wonwoo. We ran into each other at a friend's birthday party last night."

"Well, good luck with him tonight," you reply, returning to your office. "I'm sure it'll go well." Enough small talk. You have a whole seven hours plus of work left.

6:45 p.m.

The clock on your screen blinks at you. Everyone's gone home by now, and so should you. But you're still here, fingers frantically typing on the keyboard.

“__, go home already." Your finance officer, Min Yoongi, stands in the doorway, resting an arm against the frame. He's got his soft, leather briefcase in the other hand; yes, the one you got him for his birthday a couple months ago.

Yoongi was the only person in your department who often stayed as late as you. He looked like he was on his way out, though. Must have gotten what he wanted done. "I'll get there eventually," you say. "Just finishing some reports for our meeting tomorrow."

"What reports? They're all done."

"Well…my reports."

"You mean, the ones that we don't actually need?" He quirks a brow.

"They're extra just in case. There might be something off, and this might help." Yeah maybe you were making shit up to keep yourself busy, so sue you. What else were you going to preoccupy your time with? You already polished off the last pint of cookies and cream ice cream.

"You're cute." Pushing off the doorframe, Yoongi nears your desk. "You know boss doesn't look at them."

"You never kno–"

"Hey." The authority in your co-worker's voice makes you straighten your posture. "Let's cut the bullshit." In a moment of urgency, he leans his body between you and your computer.

"Excuse you?" You shove his shoulder with both hands, but he stands firm until your computer goes pitch black.

"Here's what we're gonna do." You're gently pulled up and out of your seat by the wrist. "I'm gonna get a drink, and you're coming with me."

The man gathers your coat and bag, slinging them over a shoulder. You feel your legs being lifted off the ground soon after. "I can walk, you know." You reflexively kick your feet in protest. It's been a while since he's picked you up like this.

Yoongi switches off the light and makes his way to the elevator at the end of hall. "Not right now, you can't." He pushes the button, calling it up.

"Ah look at you," you purr, locking your arms around his neck. "Someone's been watching k-dramas after hours. Trying to confess or something?"

He enters the elevator for both of you, amused by your playful remark. "I consider you my friend, __. But if I were trying to confess, I'd just come out with it. Subliminal messaging isn't really my thing.”

Understanding his notion, you close your mouth. What were you supposed to say to that?

You aimlessly watch as the woman pours freshly shaken alcohol into a short, round glass. She finishes the concoction by sticking an orange wedge along the rim. A cocktail, a classic but timeless favorite. Yoongi takes a sip of his whiskey and tilts his head towards you. "Whenever you're ready to spill your guts, let me know." 

"Hmm? I don't have anything going on." You down a shot yourself. "Nothing to spill here." 

He gives his glass a gentle swirl, liquid splashes against the sides. 

"Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing's wrong," you say. 

He sets his glass on the bartop, straight-faced. 

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at. We just came for a drink." 

"It's him, isn't it? Bunny boy with the six pack."

Your nose scrunches knowing exactly who he's referring to. With little thought you give a short 'no'. 

Yoongi stares at you nonchalantly. "Nice try, but I'm not an idiot, __. I don't know the guy that well, but I know enough that he's been on your mind a lot. You've been real prickly towards him too. Something tells me he's the reason you've been burying yourself in work lately.” 

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm just committed to my work. You know me, Ms. married to her job and all." You feign a chuckle. "I assure you, Ju–he's the furthest thing from my mind." 

“Mhm...right." He hums unconvinced. "Tell me ms. married to her job, why won't you say his name?"

"Because-" You cut shortly. "I'd rather not think of him right now. Can't we talk about something else or drink in peace?" 

He reaches for another taste of his burning liquor. "Alright."

Minutes pass before either of you speaks. You and Yoongi do this often, and you cherish it quite a bit. Sitting in silence after a long day at work soothes both your minds. But the man was right. Your mind isn't settled at all. No. It's buzzing with constant deadlines, family expectations, social commitments–  

"Okay it's him!" you blurt out, earning the attention of a few passing diners and even the bartender herself. Shoulders slouch as you grip the glass in front of you. Your eyes shift to your right, side-eyeing Yoongi, silently staring back at you.

"Jungkook...he’s just frustrating,” you finally say. “Fucking this girl, fucking that girl. Do you think I wanna know how many places he's stuck it in? No, I don't. But does that stop him?“

 You down your second shot. 

"He's been going on about the same lay for three years now. Three years, Yoongi. Honestly, how long's he going to keep it up? ‘They were begging to go again’, like who fucking cares?!” Blood boils through your veins.

A third shot. 

"I mean, how good can he be? If you asked me, he's average! Average Jeon Jungkook with probably an even more average dick!” 

“Damn, you’re pretty feisty angel.” A man slides on the stool to your left. “Calling me average and everything. Kinda hurts my feelings y’know?” 

You nearly choke picking up the man’s voice and scent– fuckin' Jungkook.

You swivel to face him. “Drop the pet names Jeon. I'm not your angel, and I seriously doubt I’m wounding any so called ‘feelings’,” you spit. “Why don’t you take your ego somewhere else…” You nod at the group of women gawking in the corner. Jungkook follows your gaze before meeting your eyes again.

"Not interested," he shrugs his shoulders.

“Oh wow, really?” Maybe sarcasm wasn’t the best way to go but since when did Jungkook start passing up overly eager women…shocker.

"Don't be insulting, __. I probably sleep around a lot more in your head than in real life."

"Please, who are you fooling," you reach for your fourth shot. Jungkook steals it out of your hand, however, shaking his head. 

"No, no, no." He sets the glass on his other side, furthest from your grasp. "Someone might be getting a little ahead of herself." 

Teeth clench. Is he patronising you?

"Do you mind?" The words spit out of your mouth. "I'm trying to sit and have a nice drink with my friend."

"And what friend would that be?" Jungkook leans forward in his seat, sparing a glance past your figure. 

"Yoongi."

"Oh, him…hate to break it to you but he left with some woman earlier.” 

You turn around immediately. He's gotta be messing around but damn– Yoongi really left you. That little snake. He'll be hearing from you tomorrow.

Rising from the barstool, you snatch your belongings and make your way to the exit.

.

"Where are you going, __?” Heavy feet patter after you, following you to the parking lot. "Just 'cause Yoongi's gone doesn't mean you have to leave." 

"I'm going home, Jungkook. 6am comes awfully quick." You want him to take the hint that you don't wanna stay but no such luck. You're instead blocked in your path, Jungkook facing you square on. He's a little close, but it doesn't matter. You'll just push around him.

"Alright, I'm sorry!" He wets his bottom lip. "If I've been too explicit about my private life, I'm sorry.” You watch as he rubs the side of his neck. “I tend-I tend to get carried away, especially around the guys. But after hearing what you said back there, I realize I should chill a little."

"Congratulations, you've figured it out.” You stare blankly at the man. “Can I leave now?" Brushing past him, you open your car door and jump inside. Dumb apology.

Fingers reach to shut the door, but Jungkook grips the rim, propping it open. "That can't be all." He leans down, shaking his head. "You clearly have some kind of vendetta against me and I'd like you to tell me why…please." 

You blink up, patience running thin. You’re wondering what you should say to get him off your tail, but the longer you linger the more it’ll look like you’re staring. And heaven knows Jungkook gets enough eyes on him as is, especially with his biceps bulging from his shirt.

Not that you’re paying attention or anything but take tonight for instance with those women ogling him in the bar. Like, did he have to wear a white tank top tonight? Show off.

“You’re so arrogant,” you say, clenching your fists. "You act like you're the best thing this world's ever gotten."

It’s obvious that your words strike a cord inside Jungkook. His face, riddled with concern and protest. 'Him, arrogant? What on earth is this woman talking about?' his eyes say.

"That's not true. When have I ever acted like that?"

Baffled. That’s what you are. It takes every ounce of gull left in your body to step out and meet the man at eye level.

"You're kidding. What do you call the constant retelling of your college fling then? Because you sure love the pedestal it gives you! Must have heard it fifty fricken times by now."

"Okay, maybe a bit then, but like I said I just get carried away. Lost in the moment if you will. The guys wanna hear it anyway, and it's just one story, __. Hardly enough basis to say I love myself or some shit."

"But that's exactly it, Jeon. You think everyone will worship at your feet just because you have that one story, a bunny like smile, and the body of a–"

"Woah, wait a second. Did you say worship at my feet? I get you're pissed off at me but come on, that's a bit much."

"It's n---shut up Jungkook!" You snarl. How dare he interrupt you after demanding you to tell him what's wrong. "Don't you ever get tired of running your mouth all the time?!"

"Me running my mouth? You're the one yelling sweetheart." His icy tone sets you off.

"Listen asshole, just for once, can't you just listen! You're so average, fuck!"

"Alright babe, I hear you, damn!" His eyebrows knit together. "And stop saying that I'm average! I'm not, okay?"

"There you go again, acting all entitled with that over inflated ego. I said it before and I'll never stop saying it–you're an average fuck! I don't care how many people you get in your bed."

Jungkook paces backwards, fingers laced behind his head. He cranks his neck back and chuckles. "Oh sweetheart, that's where you're so, so wrong."

"No idea what you're talking about," you say, unmoved.

He steps forward, complete disregard for your personal space. His breath heats your skin. "You absolutely care who I'm with...who I'm talking to...and especially who I'm fucking." He places a hand on the roof of your car. "You care so much that it's eating at you, bit by bit."

You do all you can to ignore the way the back of your neck fires up and how your heart picks up as he speaks but–dammit, this isn't the time! He's messing with your sanity. Or maybe, it's the shots kicking in. Both likely. Either way, you’ll be damned if you let him catch on.

"Fuck off Jungkook!" You push against his muscular chest. The force should have sent him stumbling back, but it only makes him slightly jolt. Courtesy of his rock-solid form.

"Why? 'Cause I'm right?" He traces down your figure. “ 'Cause you're scared of what will happen once we get close?”

Palms sweating, you struggle to form a proper response.

Option A: No, you're not scared in which Jungkook will likely challenge you.

Option B: Yes you're scared in which you let Jungkook be right and your efforts will be in vain.

Or Option C, what you've been doing all along: Fuck off!

Lust clouds over Jungkook's eyes as you remain motionless.

"How 'bout you prove it to me." His voice cuts through your contemplation. "That I'm wrong, that you don't want this, and I'll do the same for you."

You know exactly what he's insinuating– a one night stand. You swore you'd never give in to his antics. Then again, you never thought things would escalate this far either.

But if you agree to sleep with him now, you'll look like a hypocrite. And what of the countless speeches you made about not wanting to be another one of his swooning, giddy women? Still… it's not like you want to sleep with him. And if you do sleep with him, and he's average after all, you'll finally have something to testify to.

That'll knock him down a few pegs. 

"So…" You hear Jungkook drawl. "Is that smug expression you got on a yes?" 

"Hurry up and unlock the door,” you snap, manners going awry. “I wanna get this done as soon as possible.”

"Relax will you.” Jungkook fiddles with his keys, nearly dropping them with every shuffle. “So bratty when you’re down to get some.” He ushers you forward once managing to crank the door open.

You ignore his snide remark, taking in the spacious room. “Don't tell me that's your bed,” you say. There, in the middle of the living room was a mattress. It was on the smaller side but not in bad shape. If that’s where Jungkook intends to give it to you though, you’ll gladly walk out.

“Seriously?” You're thrown a slightly pissed expression. “It’s for emergencies, okay? My room's down here." He breezes down the hall adjacent to the living room. You follow.

“Better?” A lamp switches on from the corner of the bedroom. The room’s a little bare but you can’t complain, at least it was clean.

"Yeah, its fine." You flicker your eyes at Jungkook, arms length away. Chest tightens, legs begin to shake.

This isn't a dream. You're fully conscious and you're about to jump in bed with Jeon Jungkook.

Inadvertently, you pause down at his lips–they look soft.

Oh fuck it...you can’t stomach anymore delays.

Feeling the adrenaline, you shake your coat off and toss it on the chair to the side. You march up to Jungkook next, grip the fabric of his shirt, and smash your lips against his.

It's unusual at first, sloppy even. You're moving your lips the best you can but it's a struggle getting into a rhythm. Likely because you've never kissed each other before, let alone made out.

The temptation to snort at how ridiculous the whole thing must look jabs at you. But it's when you feel Jungkook smiling through each kiss that it hits you like a ton of bricks–your lips have been the only ones moving.

"So that's how you kiss huh?" Breaking apart, he stares down at you, tongue in cheek. He's teasing you.

Rather than give an answer you smirk and twist the fabric of his shirt. You press your lips to his again but this time it's with more confidence and determination. A heavy grunt falls from his mouth and rough hands grip your hips as teeth clash against teeth.

"Fuck, slow down baby," Jungkook pants between kisses.

You ignore his plead and card through his hair with both hands, yanking on his soft, black strands. "I'm not your baby, Jungkook. Remember that."

Your back slams against the door instantly, knob rattling at the sudden pressure. With one hand, he anchors your wrists above your head while the tatted one wraps tightly around your waist. Saying this isn't turning you on would be a lie, a big fat lie.

"What do you want me to call you then?" Your thighs squeeze together when you feel his bulge brush against your center. His pecs graze atop your breasts too, causing a shiver down your spine. "Can't call you baby, can't call you angel."

You bite the inside of your cheek and gaze at Jungkook through your lashes. A devilish smirk spreads across his face at your chosen silence.

"Guess I'll have to figure it out along the way."

He inches forward, capturing your lips. His tongue licks the seam before pushing in the crevasse. Though you fight, you can't stop from moaning into his mouth.

You find your thoughts drifting to all the other places you'll feel his tongue tonight. Maybe on your neck, or your breasts, inside your thighs–fuck. You're about to soak your panties to bunny boy.

One by one, you feel the buttons of your silk blouse being pulled apart. The delicate material pools at to your feet in seconds, leaving you in your lacy white bra.

"Pretty," Jungkook plays with a strap before bringing his hands down to cup the swell of your breasts. "Not what I expected though...thought red was more your color." He flashes a cocky smirk.

"Very funny, Jung–"

You gasp when his thumbs start swirling tiny circles around your clothed nipples. "How hard are they?" He says.

"Take it off and find out."

"Fuck.” He squeezes your breasts. "You sure?"

Once giving a nod, you're pulled to the bed. Jungkook guides you on your back before settling himself around your waist in a straddled position. When he leans forward to reach behind your back, you feel his length poke you.

"Mm," you muffle a small moan.

He raises a brow. "What's gonna happen when I'm inside you huh?" The straps of your bra sweep off your shoulders. Cool air hits your breasts, nipples pebbling instantly.

"I can take it," you say.

Jungkook's eyes dilate at your bare breasted state. "Sure you can babe." The tips of his fingers graze along your sides. "Cause I'm just an average fuck yeah?"

His palms cup the underside of your boobs, squeezing lightly. He then lowers his lips to the ridge of your ear.

"Gonna make you come by your tits pretty girl." Your back arches as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh.

"Jungkook-"

"Fuck," he hisses. "Rolls off your tongue just right." He trails from your neck down to your naval, leaving open mouth kisses along the way.

Your core twists at the warm sensation. You wanna tell him not to leave marks but something inside you secretly hopes he does.

Jungkook traces back up your torso, giving your buds a few flicks with his thumbs before taking one between his lips. He sucks firmly, switching between breasts. Occasionally you let out a yelp when his teeth tug at them ever so slightly.

You desperately want to rub your thighs together due to the wetness pooling between them but the weight of Jungkook straddling you doesn't allow for much movement.

“Be a good girl and stay still," he says, cocky grin plastered on his face.

You're not a good girl, you pant back though your nearly frozen body would say otherwise.

A few more flicks of his tongue and you know he's made you come from your tits as promised.

Jungkook leans back on the his knees. "I really wanna fuck them now." He tugs on a nipple playfully but you slap his hand away.

"Don't even think about it," you say. "They're sore enough".

"You liked it though."

"Well no shit, I came didn't I? Can't believe it," you mumble under your breath. "Anyway, it's your turn now. Take your shirt off," you nearly demand."

"Even after coming, you're still a fiesty little kitten." He brings his arms around his waist. Your core tightens as you watch the white tank top lift up his muscular upper body and over his head.

"Satisfied?" He studies your expressions.

Instinctively, you trace down his sweaty build; starting with the collarbone. You work your way over to his shoulders after until his pecs draw your attention. And then his diaphragm, leading to the ‘v’ outlining his pelvis.

"Take them off too."

Jungkook gives you a pleased look. "Wanna see how average my cock is?"

You move to an upright position, face close to his. "More like wanna see what it can do." You snap the band of his sweats. "Hmm, what'd you think about that playboy?"

Jungkook's cock twitches. He needs to be inside you before he blows a load in his pants here and now. He gets up from the bed, hooks his thumbs in his sweats and pulls them down along with his briefs.

Alarms go off in your head as his half-harden cock is yanked out of it's confinement. It slaps against his abdomen, tip glowing with precum.

Swallowing, you fiddle with your own pants. It's huge and it's going inside you.

"What if I told you I wanna taste you first?"

You pause your movements and peer up at the man. "You mean...down there?"

You wanna slap yourself from how naive you sound but the thought of Jungkook's head between your legs was an affair you'd never predict to happen.

"Yeah pretty girl," Jungkook quips. "There."

"Uhm," you breath, stomach doing somersaults. "Okay."

He settles between your legs this time, panties kicked off in some odd corner of the room. He gives your inner thigh a kiss before running a finger up your slit.

A lusty moan leaves your lips.

He pushes in a moment later, making you gasp for air. Another finger pushes along side it and after a few pumps he's perfectly stimulating your g-spot.

"Jung-Jungkook fuck!" You grip the sheets from under you.

He brings his thumb over your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves. "Am I doing it right __?" He's teasing again.

You nod vigorously. "Don't stop...please. Don't you dare stop."

Jungkook hums in approval, low and breathy, but retracts his fingers from your soaking cunt. They're quickly replaced with his tongue however, licking a broad stripe up your folds. The action is repeated over and over until your once again digging your nails into his scalp.

"M' gonna come," you say with a shaky voice.

As if an invitation, he dips in your heat. A string of profanities spill out.

Shit shit shit, you chant as you release on his tongue.

Jungkook lifts his head up from between your legs and wipes his mouth off. "You're fucking sexy." He presses a deep kiss on your lips, long and messy. "And you taste sweet too."

"Fuck me," you nearly beg. "And call me a slut while your at it."

"You su–"

"You don't have to use a condom either. I'm on the pill."

"Real–"

"Yes Jungkook."

He shifts back from your body, chest inflating and deflating. "On your hands and knees then."

As soon as the words leave his mouth you flip over, your full backside in his view. Did you feel exposed? Hell yeah. But that's part of the fun.

You turn your head over a shoulder to see Jungkook inching behind you. From this angle you feel so small. You bite your lip, anticipation driving you wild.

"Don't forget what I asked for earlier playboy."

Hovering over your back, his breath tickling your skin. "And what makes you think I'll listen to you pretty girl?" His length brushes between your asscheeks.

You whine.

"Jungkook–"

All at once he aligns himself with your hole and thrusts himself in. The fullness of the stretch has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're so big," you moan.

"Yeah? You like this," he grunts, starting off a steady pace. "I knew you would." He nips your ear. "Cute how dumb little sluts like you think they know what they want, but really, they don't have a clue."

Your breathe hitches, squeezing around his length. "What about---fuck---assholes like you who decide what others want before asking?"

The bed jolts forward. You cling to all you can to steady yourself.

"It's not really deciding for others if they already want it, is it?" He snaps his hips. "I'm merely helping them, like an asset."

"Shu---god fuck!"

"Deny it all you want but we both know how hard this little pussy's clenching around my big, fat cock. Been wanting this for a while hasn't it?" Beads of sweat drip from Jungkook's brow. His wavy, black locks dangle in front of his eyes.

Helplessly, you start rocking yourself on him, meeting his thrusts in perfect sync.

"Holy shit–" Jungkook groans. "You get me so fucking turned around. Can't even be in a room with me for five minutes before you're clawing for a way out but here you are, desperate to take my cock."

"What can I say," you barely gasp, beyond wound up. "Can't stand arrogant jerks like you."

He snorts. "But you'll sure fuck 'em won't you? Slut."

Walls tightening, knees shaking, it takes only one last hard thrust and you're spasming around him.

Jungkook coaxes you through your high with broken grunts. "Fuck, you feel so tight and warm around me. Gonna come pretty girl? Gonna come all over my cock aren't you?"

"Jung---Jungkook!"

"It's okay sweetheart, you can do it. Fucking cream it."

And you do.

With his cock coated with your cum, Jungkook fucks through his own high. "Hang in there __, I'm almost there," he says, thrusts sloppy.

Once he releases into you his body grows limp on yours. A small yelp tells him to slide out and off you.

As you lie next to each other, panting heavily, you're the first to break the silence.

"I think I've proven my point. You gonna shut up about your story now?"

"I don't know which point that would be but sure," Jungkook turns his head to the side with a lazy smirk. "I'll shut up about the story. I have a new one on my mind anyway."

God what have you done. Uncaged the beast, that's what.

A/N: thanks for stopping by, happy to hear your thoughts ☺💗

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work

© kookslastbutton

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tried to get my friend's character killed?

🎾🐕 for recognition.

I (19M) and my friends (all 18-early 20s, 5 players incl. me but not the DM) play Dungeons and Dragons from time to time, usually once a month.

We just introduced a new player to the campaign, who we'll call Evan (21M). Evan's character seemed a little Mary Sue-y to me when she was displayed to the rest of us, but I don't usually have beef with characters based off of that and just chalked it up to having different tastes which isn't bad at all.

My character has been working very closely with the BBEG and has basically joined their side in their conquest to y'know. Do the thing that makes them the Big Bad Evil Guy. I was super excited to see what the BBEG was up to.

Well, this was our 8th session, and we were about to wrap up Arc 1. My character had finally reunited with the rest of the party at the BBEG's lair, and Evan's character was introduced as being a traveling assassin/Sorcerer that happened to recieve a tip that the rest of the normal party was here.

By the end of the session, Evan's character had spent a third of the game time monologing at the BBEG before slicing his head off. My character is currently half blind and mute thanks to Evan's character [she tried to kill my character and I didn't roll the best on my roll to move out of the way of her blade so now she's missing an eye, and Sara's character cut out her tongue as punishment for working for the BBEG while my character was knocked out], and was kidnapped by Evan's character.

I was and still am PISSED. I'm trying not to be, but it's been driving me insane. Evan keeps on bragging about how he killed the BBEG and keeps on revelling in the scene, and I'm the only one upset by it. He was the BBEG, and you KILLED HIM YOUR FIRST SESSION?! It just seems like a silly thing to be upset about, but it's been really upsetting me and me alone (everyone else saw the BBEG just as that, a maniacal mustache twirler). Everyone is making jokes and laughing, but it was really upsetting me.

My character is very fond of revenge. Anything she has to deal with, she tries to get even with anyone no matter the cost. One of our characters died back in Session 4, and my character ended up being the only one that learnt about his character's backstory: he's a prince, and his family would do anything to give proper punishment to his killer, and his character told mine what to do to make this happen before he died. I am the only one in-game with this information.

We're now on Session 16, almost done with Arc 2, and the current plan is [the DM mentioned we'd have to wait until Arc 3 to act on the prince's last words] to rat out Evan's character as being the killer [she isn't the killer, my character would be framing her, but the BBEG was the true killer and my character is loyal to him] and hope that she's persecuted. Most likely, this would end up with Evan's character dead, but I'm not sure due to how much he's been Mary Sue-ing all over the place [not a bad thing, but his character does virtually have no flaws that have presented themselves opposed to the rest of our party each with a glaring flaw that the DM made us all add in when we first started playing, and her stats are leagues beyond the rest of ours due to what her Sorcerer powers granted her].

I haven't told this to anyone, but I have asked the DM questions about how to execute this plan. I feel like it's going to be a real dick thing, but I think it's well within the realms of what my character would do and I honestly want to knock her down a peg. I don't know if the DM will let me do this anyways, and as I said I don't think Evan's character will even die because she's just got too good of stats so unless Evan rolls Nat 1s she's probably fine.

WIBTA for acting on this?

What are these acronyms?

[sebsbarnes]

Heyyyy. i have no idea if ur taking requests right now but i have one for when you are. could u do tan x reader where tangerine has an exceptional soft spot for reader and they get on like partner in crime and whenever they are on missions together they are just great buddies who take the piss out of each other the whole time and tangerine kinda just wants to be around her whenever shes around like at gatherings (especially at little parties cuz hes kinda antisocial and shes sort of the same and doesnt want to be by ladybug and marias side all night cuz they are kinda lovey dovey and she gets a little sick of them not confessing their love to each other. i ship ladybug x maria they are just cutie patooties to me) or if she goes out for some fresh air after mission briefings hes by her side and the dynamic is kinda how him and lemon get on if that makes sense. lemon is kinda just amused and shocked that his brother is so fond of her and kinda just loves watching them interact and lemon, ladybug and maria are like amused parents just gossiping about them. i hope u can do this and that it makes sense. love ur works and ur an amazing writer :)

the soft spot i have for tang having a soft spot for the reader ahh<3 so cutie. thank you for supporting me and i hope you enjoy this :) also has everyone been seeing the new aaron pics lately phew!!

tangerine has a soft spot for the reader

warnings: none, prob grammar mistakes! unedited

masterlist

ON THE JOB:

thought lem and tan worked like magic?... Nothing on you and tangerine

you two almost fought over how seamless you worked together bc it would get so annoying sometimes

"c'mon love, i had him!" tangerine would fake tsk after you cut in front of him to shoot the man you were both fighting

"i'm sorry! i got ahead of myself!!"

he'd roll his eyes and pretend to sulk and you would immediately interrupt him- "literally. don't ever make that face again that was horrifying."

"y'know what was horrifying? that shot." tangerine would jest

sometimes even the people you were fighting would stop in confusion because you two were always laughing on the job

"should we continue...or...? we can circle back to this if you'd like?" the enemy would ask, using his gun to gesture between him and the duo

you always ended up way too injured after missions?? to the point it didn't even make sense. your task could be just stand and observe the surroundings without fighting anyone and you somehow ended up with a limp and a bruised shoulder??? no sense.

tangerine would worry so much because truly how did you become battered and bruised???

"do i need'ta stay with you?" he'd ask, the concern in his voice blaringly obvious, "cuz if i have to i'll make lem take on the rest of this job?"

tangerine would be eye-level with you staring so deep into your eyes it felt like he was had burned holes through them

"i'm fine really tang," you'd always wave off when he asked if you were alright

"i'm serious."

"and so am i tangerine, don't be ridiculous."

and even though you'd deliver the sentence with a smile tangerine felt a pang in his chest. he didn't think he was being ridiculous. he was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

you would dismiss your injuries and the aches and pains but tangerine would never

AT EVENTS:

tangerine isn't one for big work events... not even in the slightest. he'd rather take on 15 men at once with his bare knuckles then stand around and pretend to be jovial with people he could not care about

but with a work event that means one thing.... you were also be there! and boy did this make the night enjoyable

tangerine would get gloomy though because you were talking to people that you had previous jobs with

if he found himself extremely bored and you were chatting away with someone he would wander over to you and gently grab you wrist giving it a slight pull

you'd get the hint and excuse yourself before vanishing away with tangerine

and you didn't mind, you didn't prefer talking with many people. if you never worked with them on a mission you wouldn't even look their way or try and start a conversation. you were pleased with the small group of acquaintances you had, but ultimately you liked being alone

"thank fuck you pulled me from that conversation, i could see the gears turning in william's head that he'd ask about the kyoto job."

"and what would that old prick have to say, huh?" tangerine rolled his eyes

there was a lot of...criticism of how the job went down

"probably how the brief case went missing in the first place," you shrug

"well that was lemon's fault."

"welllll," your voice rang out in a high-pitched tone

tangerine's eyebrows pulled together, "now what's that all about? lemon was too busy playin' with his fuckin' stickers."

"you could've checked," you countered

"so it's my fault?"

"it's both of your faults."

"i'm about to get a fuckin' headache," he gruffed

you two would be hanging by yourselves observing the people scattered about before your eyes landed on ladybug and maria

"they should really confess their feeling to each other," you'd say nonchalantly and tangerine would follow your eyes over to the pair

"they like each other???"

you would just shoot tangerine a look like really? you can't tell

"ladybug is always talking about how he feels nervous around her and is at a loss for words. the man who never likes anyone calling or texting him because 'it will ruin his state of peacefulness' literally told me he waits at his phone for her to call and when she doesn't all day he gets upset."

tangerine slowly nodded his and he felt his cheeks warm up.

he was getting red because... he felt that way when you were around or when you didn't text him back

never in tangerine's life did he think he'd be able to relate to ladybug

"hey... what's going on with them?" maria asked lemon who had now walked up

lemon laughed a bit looking over to you and tangerine, both of you observing his phone intently

"y'know... i'm not quite sure. i can't tell if he's in love or if it's just friendly. and that asshole would never tell me anyways," lemon would shrug

EVERY DAY LIFE:

you didn't live with the twins but you did live next door

it was much like those sitcoms where the neighbor would just burst through the front door without warning and the owner didn't care

you were tough, don't doubt that, but sometimes you felt scared being in the walls of your apartment alone, even if tangerine and lemon were only separated by a hallway

you didn't admit your fears for awhile but one day after a mission as you stepped outside the building you felt the need to confess

the breeze had been a bit chilly as the sun was setting, you were leaned on the railing with closed eyes when you heard the door open and tangerine's familiar footsteps

"are you ever scared?" you asked him that day

you heard his lighter flick, "at times, yeah. i try not to dwell though."

"i'm terrified in my apartment," you said with a glance to him, the cigarette dangling from his bottom lip

"move in with us," he had said with such quickness

"i spend enough time there being a burden, i could never do that."

"you're never a burden in my eyes."

so while you spent countless hours in their apartment you would clean or cook for them as a form of thank you which they hated.

lemon wacked the cleaning solution out of your hand, "seriously, i'm going to have to start paying you. stop cleaning."

"but-"

"NO!" lemon would laugh, "just sit down and watch tv. you're stressing me out."

there of course were times they were pleased such as when you found yourself hunched over the stove cooking them dinner after a long mission

they'd mutter how good it smells as they approached the kitchen, their suit jackets thrown to the side and watches being unclipped

"this looks so good," tangerine said his body now next to yours

"how was work?" you asked, grabbing plates to set up the food

tangerine's arms cut you off, his arms sliding around your waist, his head coming to rest against yours. you felt his body relax around you and the weight of him leaning against you. he smelt of cigarettes, blood, and the faintest bit of cologne

"fine, now that i'm home," he muttered into your hair, he hoped you didn't notice the way his arms squeezed tighter when he said 'home'

lemon leaned against the wall of the kitchen, a knowing smile on his face as he observed his brother

[iknowyuu]

hi again haha ! i wanted to ask you if you could write Sieun x gn!reader with that famous trend on tiktok « stop giving me those eyes. what eyes? » WITH SIEUN EYES WHEN HE LOOKS UP ( and maybe add like an attractive smile auzjekeidif ) something in public like they’re at a coffee shop idk PLUS SIEUN IS SUCH A TEASE

kdrama! sieun x reader

// read req!

note: this is like. the latest ive ever been LOLL, i hope ur well!!!! and that u enjoy!!!

daily click!

swinging your arms back and forth, you almost jolted when you felt a yank on your arm, the one that he was holding. looking at him, you questioned, "what's up?"

having known each other for years (and been dating for a couple of months now), you knew that in public he acted a certain way, and in private, it was different. home-sieun and outside-sieun were not the same person. you didn't mind- everyone had their different personas when with certain people- that being said, it's obvious why it's such a shock to witness him engaging in his 'in-private' antics when outside.

and so, every once in a while your boyfriend would break out of that double-layered-hardened-shy-shell of his with just a touch of cheeky-ness; something you could have never expected from someone like him.

"do you want a bungeo-ppang?" looking towards the stand that the two of you had just passed by. on the very off chance that your boyfriend would dare ask you for something first, most of the time the answer would be yes, but for once you felt inclined to respond with "hmm.. no, not really." you shrugged.

if you weren't a detective (or his partner) it would be hard to pick up on the way his eyes lingered on the side of your face when you turned your head back to face the dimly lit path of the park you were in, waiting for you to look back at him, urging you to notice him and what he really meant by his question. after a few seconds you looked back at him with a questioning gaze. "what?"

he didn't respond, only giving you a look. that look. his mouth tilted downwards in an almost unnoticeable pout, his head turned completely in your direction, and those eyes. those big, dewy brown eyes of his that held nothing but pure innocence- enough to give a new born fawn competition.

"stop giving me those eyes." you said, huffing as you felt your face warm up. you looked away towards the ground, unable to handle his affectionate gaze. he blinked at you, his gaze unmoving. "...what eyes?"

you stopped in your tracks and removed your hand from his, walking backwards towards the bungeo-ppang stand. he watched as you conversed with the vendor, looking as you handed them cash in exchange for the treat, and walked back over to him.

"here." you mumbled, urging the boy to take the treat from your hands. he looks at you before taking it, placing his soft lips around the warm treat and biting into it.

he chews and swallows, inaudibly sighing in content. "thank you," you captured his hands back into yours, interlacing your fingers. "you don't have to do that, y'know. you can just ask me. i'd do anything for you." you surprise yourself with your boldness, looking at the ground shyly, not daring to meet his eyes.

he doesn't speak, his cheeks turning red as he nods. "okay." he adds, biting into the food once more. "is it good?"

he nods, glancing at you. "can i have a bit?" he nods again, offering you an unbitten side of the treat. "that's not what i meant.." you say lowly before cupping his cheek, leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips.

it doesn't last long before he pulls away, looking away and at the ground. you chuckle at his antics and tug his hand. "red bean tastes good on you."

taglist (send an ask/comment to be added or removed!): @brxght-world @karyuliee @kkaesslovr @qtaisuu @midnightgyu @neteyams-wife @insomngyu @raybeomgyuu @woonierkiz @venus-fly-trap105

[ckret2]

I read all goldielocks chapters and I had questions.

Since I’m not sure if you are going to probably change part of Kryptos and other shape henchmaniacs relation to Bill (aka being from same realm), can I ask what was their relationship with Bill? How they meet him and what did they do in his cult before incident?

yeah all right, their relationships to Bill are all changing so it's no spoilers to tell what my original plans were.

Pre-TBOB headcanons for the shape Henchmaniacs!!

None of them (except maybe Hectorgon) were in Bill's cult. And Hectorgon didn't really "do" anything, he was just part of the rank and file. For billions of years he was a nobody to Bill—he only became "important" as he gradually became one of the last original members of the cult who still followed Bill.

Kryptos was one of the scientists who completely ripped the Magister Mentium's claims about the 3rd dimension to shreds and humiliated him, but when Bill actually met him in person he was very cordial and interested in Bill's ideas and observations, he just, y'know, didn't want him spreading misinformation about the 3rd dimension... but the fact he was so friendly didn't stop Bill from murdering him.

Then a few days later a blue rhombus shows up like "Hey has anyone seen my brother, I haven't heard from him in a few days." Surprise, shocking plot twist! "Kryptos" was their last name, the first Kryptos we met was the big brother of the future Henchmaniac Kryptos!

Bill goes "ohhh yeah your older brother died in a terrible science accident while doing science. I was his good friend though, stick with me, I'll look after you." And a trillion years later Kryptos is still in Bill's inner circle, all because Bill decided to keep him around to spite a dead scientist he had a grudge against for telling the truth about Bill's bullshit claims. He's all super smug about stealing this scientist's younger brother. Bill why did you do this.

Before the incident, Bill didn't even know the people who ultimately made up Amorphous Shape—maybe a couple of them, but most of them were strangers. During the incident Bill went "oh shit oh fuck people are dying but suddenly I have powers maybe I can FIX the breaking people—nope that didn't work—maybe if I shove a couple dozen people together into a blob they'll all survive together, you guys okay???? Okay great you technically aren't dead that's good enough for me" and Amorphous Shape were one of the groups he "saved" this way. They had nothing to do with Bill, they were just bystanders near ground zero of the incident.

Now that we know Hectorgon was originally a sheriff who ended up joining the criminals he'd intended to capture, his original plans are totally dead (and I'm fine with that, I didn't have any good ideas for him, "sheriff wooed to the dark side" is way more fun). But it'd be nice if whatever I do for Kryptos and Amorphous Shape has some echoes of their original plans, so I'm looking out for opportunities for that. Kryptos's might be hard to implement without being tedious, depending on what I ultimately settle on for the new origins of the shapes, but I'd like if it's something similarly fucked up at its root. Amorphous Shape's easier; Bill describes Morph as either an artist or an artwork and almost nobody can see her besides him—maybe part of him wonders, against all odds, whether he was her artist.