#no one texts me back quicker than THREE DAYS when i tell them about things i love

[eiinsamkeit-archive]

27 is thinking you can have better relationships with your family & build stronger friendships.

28 is realising that neither them or anyone else truly cares about you in the ways that matter.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ONE ━━ Fractured Bonds

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.2K

☆ ━ warnings: lots of angst (sorry), pretty dialogue heavy

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: okay i know dani may look like a bad person, but ntm on her yet!!! there is a reason i swear

THE LATE AUGUST sun hangs high in the sky, bathing the Minneapolis airport in a warm, golden light as Paige steps out of the terminal. When her eyes set on her dad and Drew, her face breaks out into a large grin. She hugs them, lets her little brother grip onto her leg, ruffling the boy’s hair. She’s home—and thank God for it. The summer was fun, of course, filled with basketball camps, tournaments, endless travel, and a nice week spent with her friend Azzi Fudd’s family. But it was a little bit exhausting, and, by the end of it, all Paige had longed for was to be home, with her family, with her friends, with Dani. Her heart races with the thought of finally being back in the presence of her best friend—well, she supposes they’re more than that now.

As soon as Paige drops her bags into her dad’s SUV and slides into the passenger seat, she pulls out her phone and eagerly clicks on Dani’s contact, calling her. She can already imagine the smile on Dani’s face when she hears Paige’s voice. The way her eyes would light up and that infectious laugh that Paige adores.

The phone rings once. Twice. Then a third time. And then…

“Hey, this is Dani. Sorry I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you!”

The voicemail beeps and Paige frowns, the joy and pure excitement she felt moments ago faltering just a bit. She didn’t expect Dani to answer on the first ring—the brunette isn’t one to be glued to her phone—but the voicemail still surprises her. Paige stares at the screen, before pressing the red “End Call” button.

Instead of leaving a message, Paige opts to text her best friend, assuming she’ll probably get a quicker response that way anyways.

Paige ❤️‍🔥

Hey I just got back home do you wanna do something later?

I really wanna see you I’ve missed you sm

Paige sends it, sighing as she drops her phone into her lap. She feels her dad’s gaze on her from the driver’s seat and she turns, seeing his arched brows. He begins to pull out of the parking lot as he asks, “Everything okay, P?”

“Yeah,” Paige replies, sulking a little bit. She knows she’s being a tad dramatic, but she can’t help it—this is the longest she’s ever been away from Dani and all she wants is to see the girl again, talk to her, hug her, kiss her… “Was just tryna get ahold of Dani, is all. I haven’t talked to her since, like, June. Do y’know if she’s back from camp yet?”

Paige remembers when Dani sent her that text about a week after Paige left, telling her that she was going to some summer camp for the next couple months or so and she wouldn’t be able to talk to Paige since they were taking her phone. The blonde had thought it was weird that Dani was even going to a summer camp at all—she’s always hated those things. But Paige had merely accepted it and told her to have a good time, all the while her chest aching at the thought of complete radio silence between her and the Callan girl for the next couple months.

“I’m not sure,” Bob says, rubbing his chin a little as he drives, keeping his eyes on the road. “Haven’t seen her around at all, so I doubt it. You seen her any, Drew?”

In the back seat, Drew perks up at the sound of his name, saying, “No… I wish I have, though. I miss her almost as much as I missed you, Paigey.”

Paige glance to the back, grinning at her younger brother. “Missed you, too, Drewski.” But then the blonde’s mind trails back her best friend, shaking her head as she says, “I thought she’d be back by now, though. School starts in, like, three days.”

“Well, if she is back, I’m sure she’s just getting ready for the school year again. You know, Paige, even though you don’t, she still has to do all of her college applications. That takes up time; she’s probably just focused on that,” Paige’s dad reasons, giving his daughter a reassuring smile. He’s probably not wrong; Dani’s always been the type of person that’s practically manic about her grades and anything that has to do with college, even though Paige knows she’s certainly smart enough to get into most schools that aren’t, like, Ivy’s, of course.

So, Paige nods absently to her father’s words, gazing out the window as the familiar streets pass her by. She knows she shouldn’t be so paranoid and weird about this, but something about Dani not contacting her or answering her call just rubs Paige in the wrong way a little bit. They’ve barely talked since that night back in May—before Paige had left for the summer—and, almost as soon as Paige did leave, things began to seem a bit… weird. Off. But Paige tries to shrug that feeling off, convincing herself that everything is gonna go back to normal once they’re together again.

Eventually, the car pulls into the driveway and the three Bueckers get out, hauling Paige’s bags inside the house. As they’re heading in, Paige sneaks a glance at Dani’s house. The lights are off, there’s no car in the driveway—it looks as if nobody’s home. In a way, that actually relieves Paige a little bit; it probably just means that Dani really is busy and has a valid reason for not answering Paige’s call or text.

When Paige finally has all of her things thrown across her bedroom floor, she collapses onto her bed, glad to finally be home, in her own space. She lays there for a long moment, before her phone pings. Almost immediately—and a little bit pathetically, Paige thinks—Paige jumps up, grabbing her phone, hoping and praying it’s from the girl she’s so longing to talk to.

But, when she sees the contact name, Paige’s face drops in disappointment.

Jalen Suggs

Yo, u were supposed to get back today right?

Thaliah and I are at the park rn getting some shots in if ur around u should come by

And then, another text from a different contact:

Thaliah Sommers ❌❌

p if you are back in town you better come hang with us!!!

we miss youuuuu!!!!!!

Paige smiles a little bit at the idea of seeing her friends after three long months without them. Still, she can’t shake the disappointment that the one person who still hasn’t bothered to contact her is the one person that she really, truly wants to see. Even so, Paige sends Thaliah and Jalen a response each, telling them she’s about to leave and she’ll be there soon.

She makes her way downstairs, calling to her dad in the kitchen, “I’m going to the park to hang out with Jalen and Thaliah!”

Bob just calls back, “Okay, be careful—oh, and be back for dinner! I’m making alfredo!”

“Will do!”

Paige opens the door and leaves her house, her long legs carrying her quickly to the nearby park where she and her friends have spent countless hours together over the years, playing pick-up games until the sun dipped below the trees. As she approaches, she spots Jalen mindlessly dribbling a basketball as he talks with Thaliah, who’s sprawled across a picnic table, legs stretched out.

“P!” Jalen calls as soon as he notices her. He pauses mid-dribble, face breaking out into a wide grin. Thaliah turns, too, standing from the picnic table, eyes alight as she waves to the blonde enthusiastically.

Paige grins back, the familiar sight of her best friends warming some of the ache in her chest. She jogs over, giving Jalen a bro-hug before wrapping her arms around Thaliah in a quick embrace. “Missed you guys,” she says, happy to be home.

“Missed you, too,” Thaliah replies, squeezing her back. “Summer’s treating you well, I see; cause, girl, you are tan! How’s it all been?”

“Exhausting,” Paige admits with a chuckle, pulling away. “But good.”

“Bet you’re glad to be home,” Jalen says, tossing his basketball from hand to hand.

“Yeah,” Paige nods, smile faltering just a little. “It’s good to be back.”

“Wanna shoot around?” Thaliah asks, already bouncing the ball off the backboard and catching it. She doesn’t actually play basketball—volleyball is more her scene, actually. Nevertheless, she’s always enjoyed playing with Jalen and Paige.

“Sure,” the blonde agrees, though her mind still seems to be elsewhere. She steps off the court, trying to push the growing anxiety and utter longing that’s been gnawing at her since she landed.

As they play, Paige finds herself half-listening to Jalen and Thaliah’s banter. Normally, she would have jumped right in, teasing and talking trash. But today, it seems like her brain has the capacity to truly only think about one thing: Dani. She wants to know why she hasn’t called her back yet, why she hasn’t even bothered to reply to Paige’s text. The silence eats at the point guard, tearing its nails into her resolve. Finally, she decides she can’t take it anymore.

“So, hey,” Paige starts, her tone casual, but the slight edge in her voice betrays her. “Do you guys know if Dani’s back from camp yet?”

Almost immediately, Jalen and Thaliah share a surprised glance full of raised brows and slacked jaws. That’s all it takes for Paige’s stomach to drop. Clearly, there’s something they both know.

“P,” Jalen begins, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, almost like he’s about to break bad news. “Dani’s been back for almost a month now.”

Paige’s whole body goes frigid, the basketball slipping through her fingers and bouncing away. She swallows thickly before asking, “What?”

Thaliah nods, expression sympathetic and a little reserved as she adds, “Yeah, she got back a while ago.” She glances at Jalen again before returning her eyes to Paige. “We thought you knew.”

“I—” Paige starts, but her throat seems to dry out. She gulps again, feeling as though there are claws tearing at her vocal chords, her chest, her insides, her everything, because—why hasn’t Dani told Paige? “No, I didn’t,” the blonde finally gets out, voice small, almost lost amidst the sounds of the park. “She didn’t tell me.”

Jalen scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “She’s been kinda… different, since she got back,” he mumbles, shrugging. “Really distant.”

Paige’s heart pounds in her chest almost as if it’s trying to crawl its way out of her rib cage. The shock of her friends’ words slowly begins to melt into confusion and hurt. “Distant?” she asks. “What do you mean?”

Thaliah shrugs, sighing. “Just like, she never asks to hang with us anymore, and if we try to initiate it, she always gives us some shitty excuse why she can’t go. Like, a couple weeks ago, we asked her to hang out and she said she was sick. And then we went to the mall and literally saw her there hanging out with other people.” Thaliah shakes her head in clear irritation, rolling her eyes a little.

“Who’s she been hanging around with if not you guys?” Paige asks, still trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well, I know she’s been with Serena Corren a lot,” Thaliah replies. Paige furrows her brows at the answer. Serena’s a cheerleader and not a very kind person—certainly not the type of person that Dani would willingly want to hang out with. “I mean, I guess it’s not that weird since Serena’s on yearbook, too, but like she’s such a bitch—so, it kinda is.”

Thaliah pauses, her and Jalen sharing another look that makes Paige’s insides squeeze together.

“Is that it?” Paige asks, eyes narrowing as they dart between her two friends.

Thaliah sighs heavily then, running a hand through her hair, not making eye contact with Paige. “Well,” she says slowly, and then she meets the blonde’s gaze. Thaliah’s eyes turn apologetic. “She’s dating Beau Hudson now.”

Suddenly, it feels like the ground beneath Paige has been ripped out from under her. Paige stares at Thaliah, open-mouthed, hoping she’s heard wrong. “What?”

“Beau Hudson,” Jalen repeats, grimacing as he says the name. “P, you know him—Hopkins’ quarterback, a certified dick.”

Of course, Paige knows him. She’s known him since elementary school. She and Dani—and eventually Thaliah and Jalen—have been mocking Beau for years. He’s the type of jock that’s got more muscles than brains, the type of guy that throws himself at girls just because he can. And, the thought of Dani—Paige’s Dani—dating someone like him is completely unfathomable to the blonde.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Paige mumbles, shaking her head. Dani told Paige that she loved her just a couple months ago. She’d told Paige that even with the distance between them, they’d be okay. “Why would she—?”

“We don’t know,” Thaliah says quietly. “She’s just changed, Paige. I mean, the last time I talked to her it felt like she was a completely different girl.”

Paige’s mind spins, trying to piece together the fragments of information. Dani’s back. Dani’s dating Beau Hudson. Dani didn’t even bother telling Paige that she was home. Anger flares up, sharp and hot, but underneath it is something deeper, more painful. Paige feels hurt, deep and bone-crushing.

“She didn’t even tell me,” Paige whispers, more to herself than them.

Jalen takes a hesitant step closer, resting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “Maybe you should talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”

Paige nods numbly, but inside, she’s a storm of raging emotions. She can’t seem to understand how things changed so drastically, so quickly. The Dani Paige knows—her best friend, the girl she’s loved for as long as she can remember—would never have done any of this. There has to be some kind of explanation, some sort of reason behind it all.

The rest of their time at the park is a blur for Paige. She plays, but neither her heart or head are in it, all too preoccupied with thoughts of Dani. As soon as she can, she makes an excuse to leave. It might make her a little bit of a shitty friend because she hasn’t seen Jalen and Thaliah in months, but she simply can’t help it. The pair offer her sympathetic smiles as she goes, but she doesn’t notice. All she really knows is that she has to talk to Dani.

She has to know why.

The late afternoon sun beats down on Paige as she walks along the sidewalk, staring at the cracks in the cement as she goes. They’re like her emotions right now—all cracked and crooked, a chaotic mess of confusion, hurt, and anger. A desperate need for answers.

She has no idea what she’s gonna say, and her brain doesn’t even bother trying to articulate something. Instead, it runs haywire, bouncing around in her skull as it attempts to make sense of all the information that is so clearly wrong. She’s half in denial, thinking that maybe Thaliah and Jalen merely read into things wrong, that perhaps Dani’s just going through a bit of a rough patch. Maybe Paige can talk some sense into her and maybe, just maybe, everything can go back to normal for their senior year. God, Paige fucking hopes so.

When she finally reaches the end of the street, standing in front of Dani’s house, Paige goes frigid. She stares, gaze flickering between the house before her and her own house right next door. Right here, in the small circumference that surrounds these two homes, holds so many important memories to Paige. She can picture her and Dani as kids, running between the two front yards, laughing and playing without a care in the world. She remembers the slip in slide their parents set up right here, the way she and Dani wore it out until there were holes in the plastic and wet grass sticking to their skin. She remembers playing fetch with Dani’s dog, Maverick, until all three of them had tired out, Dani and Paige laying on the ground with the golden retriever in between them. She remembers sitting on Dani’s front porch, holding her best friend and letting her cry into her shoulder after they found out Dani’s mother died. She remembers kissing Dani by the door in the dark until both of them could barely breathe, swallowing each other’s giggles.

But now, everything feels different. Darker. Dimmer. The house before Paige feels almost foreboding, like it’s guarding the secrets Dani’s been keeping from her.

Paige takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She isn’t sure what to expect, but she knows she has to face whatever’s waiting on the other side of that door, whatever hard truth she’s about to be exposed to.

Her hand trembles as she reaches out to knock. She has so many questions, so much to say, but, now, as she stands here, all of it begins to choke her. She swallows thickly, clearing her throat, before knocking twice.

A few moments later, the door opens. And there she is—Dani Callan, standing in the doorway, looking different yet heartbreakingly familiar. At the sight of her, Paige’s breath catches in her throat. Dani’s hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she’s dressed in a simple tank top and shorts, but it’s her expression that strikes Paige the most. There’s a hardness in Dani’s eyes, one that the blonde has never been subjected to, a coldness that she’s never seen before.

“Paige,” Dani acknowledges, her voice flat, almost emotionless. She doesn’t step aside to let her in.

Paige swallows, her mouth dry. “Hey, Dan. Can we talk?”

Dani hesitates, glancing over her shoulder as if she’s considering closing the door. Then, she sighs, stepping back to let Paige in. Even so, her demeanor doesn’t hold an invitation—just an odd vexation. “Sure. Come in.”

The house is eerily quiet as Paige follows her best friend inside. It feels all wrong, like the silence is pressing down on her, suffocating. Dani leads her to the living room, before sitting down on the couch, posture stiff. Paige stays standing a few feet away, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“What’s going on?” Paige asks, trying to keep her voice firm yet she hears a crack in it. A tremble. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back? Why didn’t you—”

“Paige,” Dani interrupts, her tone sharp and cutting. It makes the words die on the blonde’s lips. “I don’t want to do this.”

Paige blinks, taken aback by the harshness in the brunette’s voice. “Do what? Talk?” she scoffs, shaking her head, anger creeping up. “You haven’t talked to me in months, Dani! I’ve been worried about you, I’ve been missing you nonstop—and then I find out you’ve been back for weeks and didn’t even bother to let me know?”

Dani looks away, jaw clenching. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy?” Paige repeats indignantly. If anything, Paige has been busy, traveling from place to place, balancing basketball and everything else. And yet, she’d always, always make time for her best friend. “Really? You’ve been too busy to call me? Too busy to even text?” The blonde’s voice begins to rise steadily, the hurt and confusion she’s been holding back beginning to spill out. “I mean, fuck, Dani! We kissed! And you told me that you loved me. And—and then, what? You just disappear! I mean, what the hell is going on?”

Dani flinches at Paige’s words, but she doesn’t respond right away. She stares at the ground for a long moment, the room going completely silent. And then she finally glances up, eyes meeting Paige’s. There’s a flicker of something there—guilt, maybe?—but it’s gone as quickly as it comes. “That night,” she starts slowly, taking a long breath out, “it was a mistake.”

Paige’s heart stutters in her chest, almost like it’s about to fail. A mistake. For the first time today, the blonde feels her eyes begin to burn. She furiously fights the tears, refusing to cry here. Clearly, she’d only be embarrassing herself. “A mistake?” Paige whispers, shaking her head. “Dani, you’re not serious.”

“I am,” the Callan girl responds, voice flat. “It never should’ve happened. I don’t want that. I don’t want… you.”

The words hit Paige like a punch to the gut, and she steps back, heart thudding in her chest. “You can’t mean that.” She can’t. Dani told Paige that she loved her, that she was in love with her.

“I do,” Dani insists, her tone growing more resolute with each word. “Paige, I can’t be what you want me to be. I don’t want to be. I have a boyfriend now, and—”

“Beau Hudson? You hate Beau Hudson!” Paige shouts, her anger boiling over. She feels like every inch of her body is being scorned, flames burning through her skin and into her very being. “I mean, we both do! We always have. We’ve made fun of him for years—and for good reason! He’s a dick, Dani! And now, you’re just— you’re dating him? After everything we—”

“Just stop, Paige!” Dani cuts her off, voice louder than Paige has ever heard it. It’s full of emotion—though Paige can’t seem to decipher what emotion exactly—the most feeling the brunette has put into her words the entire conversation. “You need to stop. Whatever you think we had, it’s over. It’s done.”

Paige stares at her. She can feel it—over a decade of friendship, over a decade of Paige and Dani fading away. It’s been them; it’s always been them since they were five years old. And now, Paige feels that being ripped away from her, stolen. She fights for it. She wants it back. “But… why? Why’re you doing this?”

Dani looks away again, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. “Because we can’t be friends anymore, Paige. I don’t want to be friends with you. I just want you to leave me alone.”

Paige’s eyes sting again, but she blinks the tears back, letting the salt simmer in her eyes. “Is this because of what happened? Because of the kiss? Because of the I love you’s? Because if it is—”

“It’s not about the kiss,” Dani says, voice cold and final. “Or about the I love you’s. It’s about everything. I grew up—and I think you should, too.”

Paige gapes, and a roar of confusion tears through her again. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re clinging to something that’s never going to happen,” Dani replies, lips turning down into something between a frown and a scowl. “I’m with Beau now. I’m moving on. So. Should. You.” She says the words slowly and firmly as if she’s really trying to cement them in Paige’s brain. Paige blanches at them.

“Moving on?” the blonde repeats, the words shredding through her vocal chords. “You don’t have to move on! I’m right here! I want you!”

“But I don’t!” Dani shouts back. “Can’t you get that? I don’t want you, Paige.”

The point guard opens her mouth to argue, to beg, but the words won’t come. She feels like she’s drowning, like everything she’s ever known is slipping away from her, and there’s not a single thing she can do to stop it.

Dani stands up, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at Paige with a look that’s almost pitying. “Please, Paige. Just go.”

Paige stands there for a long moment, feet planted, staring at the girl she thought she knew, the girl she thought loved her. But this isn’t Dani—not the Dani she remembers, not the one she’s spent her whole life with. This is someone else, someone who’s built walls so high and so thick that Paige can’t even begin to break through.

She turns away slowly, legs feeling like lead. She wants to say more, to continue demanding, to go up to Dani and shake her shoulders until the sense has been come back to her. But Paige doesn’t. Instead, she walks to the door, heart cracking with every step.

When she gets to the doorway, she pauses, turning back to look at her childhood best friend one last time.

“If you ever change your mind…” she mumbles, eyes traveling across Dani before landing on the other side of the room, unable to really look at her. “If you ever want to talk…”

But Dani just shakes her head. “Goodbye, Paige.”

Paige nods, stepping outside, the door closing behind her with a finality that feels like what might as well be the end of everything. She stands on the porch for a long moment, trying to process what just happened, but all she can seem to feel is a crushing sense of loss. Finally, the tears begin to spill over and a harsh sob rips through Paige’s chest. She doesn’t bother wiping the tears away, instead just lets them fall. Lets them carry the pain, the confusion, the heartbreak.

But even as she walks away, over to her own house right next door, there’s one thing Paige can’t let go of—the feeling that the Dani she knows, the Dani she loves, is still in there somewhere. And no matter what Dani says, no matter how much she pushes Paige away, the blonde refuses to give up on her. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

Thanks everyone for the continued warm reactions! I love hearing what you guys are thinking so feel free to reach out!

Part One I Part Two I Part Three I Part Four I Part Five I Also on AO3!

The first month celebration seemed to open the floodgates on Team Tattoos and Team Flowers (as Robin affectionately named their now fairly active group chat) seeing each other outside of work. It wasn’t always all four of them but Steve would start bringing over lunch to eat with Eddie when he picked up his order or Robin would stop by with coffees after doing a run. Chrissy would go over to the tattoo parlor when she needed a break from heavy metal while doing bank reconciliations. 

Steve was in the studio alone on a no client day to get some sketching done and other small things around the shop. Robin had elected to avoid the winter weather and stay at their apartment. 

“Hello! I come bearing lunch!” Eddie called out as he swung open the door. 

After his first formal visit to the tattoo parlor, Eddie had gotten more comfortable waltzing in when the shop was slow. Steve was happy to see Eddie more as he slowly wore down the stubborn metalhead. Robin had started dropping some pretty heavy hints that Steve should just go for it and ask Eddie out but Steve wasn’t quite sure he was ready. As much as Steve was learning Eddie was different, he reminded Steve of the counterculture guys at some of his old studios. Steve couldn’t quite shake his insecurity that Eddie still thought he didn’t have any business running a tattoo parlor. Of course this didn’t stop Steve from becoming more and more obsessed with the man as they became something approximating friends. They even started giving each other small tokens. Eddie would find some cool rock or a weird stamp or something equally random and leave them on the reception desk when he stopped by to rap his knuckles on the desk and tell Steve whatever important fact he’d learned that he “couldn’t possibly just share via text, Steve, the delivery is half of the point.” Steve would always laugh, shake his head, and get back to whatever he was working on before Eddie burst through the door.

After Steve had amassed quite a collection of Eddie’s found treasures, Steve felt like he needed to reciprocate. Eddie had told Steve about his collection of heavy metal tapes for the De Lucas’ van so the next time Robin dragged Steve to a thrift store he scoured the tape offerings for something that he could give Eddie. After sifting through the options for so long that even Robin had gotten bored of shopping, Steve decided on Voices from Hall & Oates. It was just cheesy enough he could play it off as a joke if Eddie made fun of it but it also had some absolute classics Steve loved. And if they happened to be love songs, well, the 80s were a love song filled decade, it couldn’t be helped.

“Munson! Welcome!” Steve called as he walked out of the back office. “Whatcha got for me?”

Eddie situated himself on the couch that he continued to insist he hated and Steve sat in one of the nearby armchairs and started setting out food. 

“Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup, Steve-o!” Eddie said as he stooped into a low bow and spread out his arms to show off the offerings on the coffee table.

“This is so good, holy shit,” Steve said as he started wolfing down the sandwich. He should probably work on his table manners but hopefully Eddie didn’t mind. “Where’d you get this, dude?”

“Oh, uh, I made it,” Eddie looked a little embarrassed to admit it.

“Seriously, dude? Unfair,” Steve said.

“Unfair, why?” Eddie asked.

“Well you have the whole flower thing and you’re good at cooking? That’s like a whole first date package, man,” Steve’s mouth moved quicker than his brain could tell him to shut up and run into the nearest snow bank. “Not that, that’s, I mean–”

“Thanks, I think?” Eddie cut Steve off. “I owed you one.”

“Oh wait! That reminds me, stay here.” Steve ran off to the back room to pick up the cassette tape. “I got you this, if you ever feel like diversifying the van’s musical options.”

“You got me a tape?” Eddie looked skeptical. Steve couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or not.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not a big deal, but it’s Hall & Oates. I play them a lot at the shop. They’re kind of chill and I figured maybe if you ever wanted a change of pace, or whatever.”

“Steve, I know who Hall & Oates are.”

“And you hate them. Listen, it was a silly idea,” Steve said as he went to grab the tape back from Eddie.

“Nope, you already gave it to me, no take backs!” Eddie said as he jolted upright and nearly sprinted across the street. Steve was left a little aghast as he went back to the tomato soup Eddie had apparently made him. This was getting out of hand.

The next day Steve got to his studio and saw a square package waiting on the stoop.

Payback, Harrington. – EM

Steve opened the package to find a Led Zeppelin record. He knew he’d heard the name before but other than that he didn’t recognize it. It had a picture with what looked like an explosion and some historical photo.

“What’s that, Steve?” Robin asked as she walked in.

“Oh I guess Eddie left it?” Steve said and flipped the album around to show Robin.

“Ooooo, Eddie, huh?” Robin teased and wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, get the Led out. Rad.”

“What?” Steve had no idea what Robin said.

“Get the Led out? Led Zeppellin? The band whose record you’re holding?” 

“None of that means anything to me, Robin.”

“You’re such a square, Harrington.”

Steve elbowed Robin but went to put the record on. “I guess it’s good to have some emergency rock?” Steve joked. He wasn’t sure what he thought about the band as the record started spinning.

“You’re ridiculous. You’ll have to set it off to the side so someone doesn’t put it on while you’re in the middle of a tattoo and scare you out of your trance,” Robin said. 

She told Steve that sometimes he seemed so fully wrapped up in his work that she would get nervous that he’d spook at any sudden or unexpected noise. He knew she was fully kidding but Steve decided it would be a funny gag to get a frame to put the record in. He used some of the window paints Robin had got for the studio windows to scribble “Warning! Don’t let the Led out!” Robin thought it was the corniest thing she’d ever seen. That didn’t matter once Eddie saw it and laughed for a full thirty seconds.

Eddie started coming to visit Steve when De Lucas’ closed up and Chrissy left for the day. Steve noticed Eddie picked days where Steve didn’t have afternoon clients and was mostly just sketching and doing shop maintenance stuff. Sometimes Eddie would bring Steve coffee or a snack and other times Eddie would just bring over a book and read on the couch while Steve worked. Steve started joining him on the couch and Eddie would read out loud while Steve sketched. Those were Steve’s favorite days.

“Great engines crawled across the field; and in the midst was a huge ram, great as a forest-tree a hundred feet in length, swinging on mighty chains. Long had it been forging in the dark smithies of Mordor, and its hideous head, founded of black steel,” Eddie was reading while Steve was snuggled into the other arm of the couch working on his iPad.

“Oh! Mordor! I know this–it’s in that song from that band’s record you gave me!” Steve interrupted.

“Holy shit, you actually listened to it before you put the album in jail?” Eddie 

“Of course, dude! Sorry I’m not much of a reader, what book is this?” Steve answered.

“It’s Lord of the Rings, it’s a pretty classic fantasy book,” Eddie looked over at Steve. “There’s actually a decent movie adaptation if you ever want to have movie night.”

“Oh, yeah, I think Robin likes that movie, it has elves, right?” 

“Yes, Steve, there are elves,” Eddie laughed.

“Sounds fun!” Steve stretched out and kicked Eddie’s thigh accidentally. Eddie reached over and pulled Steve’s feet onto his lap, placed his book back on Steve’s shins. Eddie snuggled back into the couch and Steve stifled a laugh. “I don’t think you’re allowed to make fun of this couch anymore, dude.”

“It’s still obnoxious even if it also happens to be unfairly comfortable. Do you want me to keep reading or do you want me to stop so I don’t spoil it? I honestly kind of thought you weren’t paying attention,” Eddie said.

“Keep reading. I’m enjoying it.”

“Alright Stevie,” Eddie responded. “founded of black steel, was shaped in the likeness of a ravening wolf; on it spells of ruin lay.” Steve listened to the familiar timbre of Eddie’s voice and settled back into his work.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve started as he finished up his work. “Have you ever thought about getting, like, an actual tattoo?”

“What do you mean?” Eddie shut his book and pushed Steve’s legs off his lap.

“You know like the kind of stuff I work on? Hang on, I don’t think I’m explaining this very well. Let me show you.” Steve could tell something was off. He knew his work wasn’t Eddie’s style but he kind of couldn’t stop thinking about tattooing Eddie. Steve thought Eddie was absolutely breathtaking and he wanted to give him something equally pretty. Steve hadn’t realized it at the time but he was absolutely thinking of Eddie everytime he sketched one of the bouquets he brought over. He flipped through his iPad and found the drawing he was working on of the bouquet Eddie had made for their one month anniversary. “Something like this? Maybe? I dunno.”

“What is this?”

“It’s just a sketch I did of one of the bouquets I picked up? The one from the day we went to the Hideout?” Steve explained.

Eddie took a closer look at the sketch and Steve couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Oh shoot, is that the time? I gotta get back to my side of the street.” Eddie abruptly stood and walked out, leaving Steve to wrack his brain as to how he fucked it up this time.

Steve was confused. He didn’t know what he did to make Eddie leave. His face was hot and he felt tears well up in his eyes. He’d thought Eddie was different. That he was at least starting to understand Steve. He must have missed something. Obviously, Eddie, with all his metal tattoos, was absolutely not the kind of guy who was into floral tattoos and in fact maybe judged Steve for his style. It was probably stupid to offer to tattoo him. Steve never did that. Robin bugged him as soon as he started tattooing clients until he had to explain that he just couldn’t. He didn’t want to mess up and have someone he was actually close to hate something that was relatively permanent. He knew it was sort of a weird hang up for a tattoo artist but he couldn’t get past his mental block. That was until he met Eddie. Something about Eddie and his flowers had so captivated Steve.

Steve closed up his shop on autopilot. He put everything away for the night and locked up trying to put the metalhead across the street out of his mind. He kept his head down as he walked out to avoid seeing De Lucas’ and Eddie’s stupid van. He managed to mostly keep himself together on the L until he got home. Thankfully Robin wasn’t home yet so Steve pulled on his softest sweatshirt and rolled himself into a tight blanket cocoon and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

***

Part 7 now available here!

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list! I’m sorry for the angst! I promise there’s a happy ending coming!

Also if you’re enjoying my writing I have a Warped Tour AU up on my AO3 if you’re interest! It’s available here.

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[watchmegetobsessed]

LOVE LANGUAGE

a/n: just a little fluffy something i cooked up one morning 🥰

pairing: Harry X Reader

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Harry doesn’t shy away from telling you how he feels. He has been very vocal about everything that goes on in his mind and you know he has come a long way from being reserved and keeping things bottled up inside him to always telling you what bothers him or what makes him happy. He was also the first one to say I love you. You already knew you felt that way, but you didn’t try to drop it on him like a bomb when he is not ready to hear it, but for your biggest surprise, he said it not long after that. Now it’s been four years and you’re happier than ever. It’s been your longest relationship and at the beginning you were afraid you’d get so used to each other that the sparkles and the fire would slowly vanish, but it never happened. You’re still just as passionate and wistful towards each other as you were in the first month when you spent most of your time in either your or Harry’s bed, exploring each other not just in a physical way, but you also just talked and talked and talked until you knew each other inside and out. And you grew to love him faster and harder than you did with anyone.

Though you love to hear him say those three tiny words, murmuring into your ear while he makes love to you, or hearing him croak it out first thing in the morning, whispering against your lips when he comes home or just dropping it anytime he feels like he hasn’t said it in a long time, your absolute favorite is still the times when he tells you he loves you without using those words. During your time together you’ve come to speak Harry’s love language pretty well. He is a very affectionate person, mostly when it’s just the two of you, but he doesn’t fail to show you his feelings even in the middle of a crowd.

He tells you he loves you without saying the words when you’re sick and he drops everything to come and take care of you.

You had been dating for only a few months when you caught a nasty stomach bug. Your breakfast came back quicker than you could even finish it and you were forced to call into your work and tell them you are not gonna make it into the office today. Then you texted Harry to cancel on your dinner plans and though you didn’t want to tell him that you’ve been spending most of your morning on your bathroom’s floor, he didn’t leave you until you told him what was wrong. Thirty minutes later he was at your place with two bags filled with everything and anything you could need. Medicine, tea, some plain biscuits for when you can finally keep something down and some of his clothes you love wearing when you’re at his place. But when he had checked in on you and made sure you had everything you could need, he didn’t leave.

“Harry, you don’t want to listen to me throwing up every five seconds. Just go and I’ll be fine, okay?” you groaned, lying on your couch that’s the closest spot to the bathroom in case you had to run for it.

“Leaving? I’m not leaving, Love. I’ll be right here—“

He couldn’t even get to finish because you had to throw up again even though you’d been trying hard to keep it together at least while he was there, but you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. Hunched over the toilet, the remaining of your breakfast ending up in it. As you were reaching up to flush it, a hand was faster than you, another one gently running up and down on your back. Harry was quick to kneel next to you, brush your hair out of your face as you waited if there would be more or you could get up from the floor. Harry didn’t say a word, he wasn’t grossed out and he didn’t leave. He spent the whole day by your side, helping and soothing you until you could finally fall asleep in his arms as he kept kissing your forehead, gently humming to you.

He tells you he loves you without saying the words when he buys you things he thinks you’ll love.

It’s not always something useful or expensive, though he is quite good at spending a fortune on you even though you’ve told him several times not to spend that much money on you. Sometimes it’s just something small and seemingly insignificant.

Like when you got obsessed with an ice-cream brand, you ate it day and night, buying basically the whole supply from your local grocery store, up until there was no more. You waited and waited for the restock, but it never came and you later found out that they won’t be selling it anymore.

Harry tracked down the closest store that had the brand, drove almost two hours just to buy it and then came home with a whole box of it, filling your entire freezer with just the ice-cream.

“The saddest thing is that it’s gonna be gone in like a week,” you sighed as you finally shut the freezer closed, finding your boyfriend smirking at you.

“Then I’ll go and get you more,” he simply shrugged, before stealing a quick kiss.

Harry tells you he loves you without saying the words when he watches out for you even when you are not doing that for yourself.

On your third anniversary he was able to make some time for a vacation, just the two of you on a small island with endless sunshine and warm, sandy beaches. You stayed at a private villa that had its own little beach so you could be entirely alone, without prying eyes and nosy fans.

You’d been lying out in the sun for a while and you completely forgot to use any sunscreen. When Harry returned from inside with some water for the both of you, he simply started applying it to your back without a word, making sure he covered every part.

“Mm, thank you,” you mumbled when his fingers started massaging your muscles, the strings of your bikini soon coming undone.

“Don’t want my baby to get sunburnt, right?” he mumbled, kissing you under your ear. It didn’t take long for the tow of you to take advantage of being so hidden away, your bikini bottom coming off along with his swimming trunks, having some giddy, sandy sex on the beach that definitely continued in the shower when you were trying to get rid of all the sand that stuck to your skin.

He says he loves you when he makes excuses to go home earlier from a party just because he knows you’re tired. Or when he waits for you with dinner after a long day, making your favorite. He makes you feel so loved with all his little touches and looks, the way he talks about you to others and how he always makes you his priority.

It’s not always in the words but in the actions, you’ve become fluent in Harry’s love language and you can only hope he understands yours as well. That every time you wake up before him you make sure his coffee would be already done by the time he stumbles out of the bedroom. Or when you ask him to pull over when you’re on a road trip so you can switch and drive for a while because you can tell that he is tired. It’s your way of saying you love him when you drop by the studio with food for him and the band when you know they’ve been probably locked up in there working for way too long and also when you make him the little spoon after a tiring day, knowing how much he loves to be held sometimes. It’s all in the tiny things, understanding each other’s love language.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[chaoskirin]

Shadecursed--PROLOGUE

Dear Emperor Gwilym,

I hope this letter finds you and the Empress well. May your reign be long and peaceful.

Now that the formalities are out of the way, I must apologize! I'm sorry I haven't written in the past couple weeks. I've been busy translating that text I spoke about in my last letter. It turns out it wasn't Duarrow or Orcish--it was written by gnolls!

They have three languages: A complex language which indicates emotion and ideas, a simple language which was historically only used in conversation with other species, and a language specifically used for naming themselves. And gnolls learn all three of these languages from birth.

Luckily this book was written in the simple language or it would have taken me a whole aur to translate. I've submitted the translation and a copy of the text to the history museum here in Faun-ir, and I've returned the original back to Ghaspir for repatriation. The postmaster told me that it would likely be returned to me, though, as the gnolls tend not to accept parcels from other nations. Apparently the book was quite a find, since the study of gnolls is sort of the "in" thing at the moment.

Last time we spoke in person, you indicated some curiosity about The Defeated, which the gnolls call the Old Gods. The book contained a poem I thought you'd find interesting, which I've translated for you below. Some words (like certain names) I was unable to translate, but I hope you still enjoy reading it.

---

Plea to Our Gods for Reprieve

Oh faithless, look what you've done! If not for you, we could still bask in the glow of our creators, those who built us from the clay of the earth and breathed into us their own breath.

My sisters, I beg! Please keep vigil. Remember the old ways, that upon the return of the gods, you shall be rewarded for your faith. Rejoice that their sights fell upon you and created you in their very image.

Oh Kt'arr'ghar, keeper of the winds and rain, of the sun and shadow, how we miss the kiss of your lips upon our brow.

Oh H'nrreegh, guardian of life and death, keeper of health and disease, we mourn the loss of your spirit to the aether.

Oh Lr'engh'ereh, patron of the animals and plants, of the very earth upon which we stand, we fall down before the lack of your guidance.

Oh Rr'roorit'hroggj'r'oritih, authority of law and of the chaos inherent to the universe, how can we survive without your strong hand?

Faithful sisters, shun the magics of the Thieves. Depart from your treaties and dishonor your debts as they have dishonored us. Those who murder the creators have no place at our table.

Faithful brothers, bow down and acknowledge your sorrow. Keep the flame of your ire fresh for the prosperous time to come. Do not let the endless days discourage you, as we will feel the touch of the gods again.

Remember the codir of the gods. Remember their gaze. Remember their will. Break free of the chains that pull you from their grace, and you will be lifted up upon their return.

Faithful sisters, faithful brothers, do not succumb to your misery, but let it feed you. Your time shall come.

---

The author isn't listed, sadly.

From what I can tell, this poem has been verbally passed down from generation to generation and was an important part in the formation of their oracle clades. I don't know more than that, though, and the book is pretty tight-lipped when it comes to their society.

I almost feel sorry for them. Isn't the skull of one of the gods on display in Herractir? Even the most skilled mages of Faoliia can't bring someone back to life, and having your skull out for the whole world to see is pretty indicative that you're really, really dead. Can you imagine holding onto such anger for thousands of aurs? Wow.

Anyway, I hope to see you soon. I promise I'll write quicker next time!

With respectful affection,

Benji Wild

First Sacrifant Son of Imperial Lunarilis

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: both non-sexual and sexual pet play, dom!jimin, sub!jk, sub!tae, handjob, yoongi and yn pretending like they don't wanna suck the souls out of each other, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

A/N: welcome back to my best boys ;;;;-; this chapter is being cross-posted from ao3. in the future i'll try and upload in both places at the same time!

DAY TWENTY-THREE

It’s two blocks of pure ice that wake Taehyung up that Tuesday morning. Before he’s even really coherent, he’s hissing and tucking into a ball away from the cold.

“Puppy, shh, it’s just me.”

Even as those chilled items that Tae can tentatively identify as feet tuck between his bare legs, he goes lax and accepts the body that wraps around his curled back. “Minnie,” he mumbles, and it’s so quiet that the older boy probably doesn’t hear, but his grip tightens anyway. “‘What time ‘s it?”

“Early, I’m sorry.” Jimin’s voice, unlike his thawing toes, blows warm across the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Missed you.”

A sleepy smile of bliss crosses Taehyung’s face for exactly three seconds, at which point he recalls the fact that he didn’t go to sleep alone tonight. Shooting up so quickly that his shoulder catches Jimin’s chin, Taehyung peels his eyes open to see Jungkook, awkwardly hugging a pillow to his chest with his legs crossed.

He bites his lip, avoiding their gazes. “Sorry, I, uh, don’t mean to disturb.”

“Shoot.” Jimin rubs his face blearily. “I didn’t see you there, Jungkookie. I should go-”

“No, no, stay,” Taehyung begs hurriedly, launching himself back onto the mattress and wiggling himself back into the curve of Jimin’s front. “Jungkook, um, you can come cuddle too if you want. I like being middle spoon.”

The youngest gazes back and forth at them, never resting long enough for eye contact. His indecision is palpable, but there’s a pleased glimmer too. “Is that...okay with Jimin-hyung? I don’t wanna intrude.”

Jimin’s voice is soft, his eyes slipping closed as he eases his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, arms snaking around his torso. “You can be a part of us too, Jungkookie.”

The words are perhaps more intimate than Jimin even realises, and in the vulnerable setting of a bed in the early morning hours, Jungkook’s hard swallow is audible, before he slowly puts the pillow aside and tucks his feet under the covers, slipping down. It’s not until Taehyung’s arm is his headrest and the other one provides a comforting weight low on his hips that he speaks up again. “Do you… do you mean that just for now, or… Or for good?”

“What do you think, Minnie?” Taehyung’s fingertips trace lazily over the bare skin that’s exposed by Jungkook’s shirt riding up. “Can we keep him?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s just about asleep again, but Taehyung can feel his pleased smile against his shoulder. “Of course we can, puppy.”

The repeated nickname causes Taehyung’s heart to twitch just as his dick does. It’s no less endearing and special, but Jungkook is still perfectly awake and right there, and it feels a little confronting.

But Jungkook just chuckles, twisting around in Taehyung’s slack embrace to face him, eyes bright. “If you’re a puppy, what am I?”

Taehyung’s careful not to jostle Jimin. He’s begun snoring, nothing more audible than regular snuffling, but still Tae doesn’t want to disturb that rest. “What do you mean, Jungkookie?”

He scrunches his nose, thinking away. “Well, there’s Minnie and there’s puppy. I want a cute nickname too if I’m gonna be - you know - with you guys.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung begins haltingly, “Jimin calls me puppy because… God, it feels silly saying it out loud. He calls me puppy because sometimes when we’re together I go into puppyspace. You know; like petplay.”

“That’s not silly,” Jungkook says reflexively, even as his eyes widen and lips part. “What’s it like?”

“Puppyspace?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods eagerly, and the motion is transferred through Tae where they connect, making Jimin grunt and bury his nose deeper into the crook of his neck. “It’s so peaceful, Jungkookie. He takes care of me so I don’t have to think. I can nap and cuddle and play, without all of the stresses of life. It feels all warm and cosy, you know? I love it.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in wonder, his fingers finding their way to Taehyung’s worn black sleepshirt, fiddling with the hem. “Can I try? How do you… how do you know if you can do it?”

Behind Taehyung, Jimin lets out a half-asleep groan, his nose pressing against the taller one’s back. “Of course you can try. Let’s just sleep for now, though? I’m sure Minnie can play with both of us later.”

It’s that promise that allows Jungkook to settle, nodding with a tentative hum and shifting down so that his head can rest in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung falls back under like this, with a heartbeat thrumming against his back and soft, even breaths tickling his bared shoulder.

--

“Hobi?”

Hoseok pauses, frothed toothbrush clamped between his teeth. “Mmng?”

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, clearing your throat to dislodge the thickness that distorts your voice. “Can we not tell them?”

He bends over to quickly spit out the majority of toothpaste, but when he stands upright to face you again there’s a smear on his chin. “Tell them what?”

You blink. “Last night. I just… I don’t want them to- to pity me or treat me like I’m glass or anything. I know it won’t happen again, it was just…” Shrugging hopelessly, you give up on trying to put words to it. “I don’t know.”

The dom remains silent for a few moments, lips pursed in thought. “The chicken must have been bad,” he concludes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. “Huh? What chicken?”

“You and I went out for dinner at this fried chicken place, but when you got home last night it made you sick. That’s why you aren’t quite yourself today. I’ll get Yoongi-hyung to make some hangover soup.” His eyes are warm, pulling you into a comforting one-armed hug. “Just the chicken, that’s all. Yeah?”

You swallow down the swell of gratitude and instead bury yourself into his safe embrace. “Yeah. That’s all.”

To his credit, Yoongi doesn’t ask questions, pushing all his concern into his cooking. The doctor all but feeds you himself, hovering with a furrowed brow and a napkin. Strangely enough, his fussing goes a long way in cheering you up, and you let the events of yesterday wash away with the salty broth.

Hoseok hangs around for a while before going down to do some laundry, Namjoon briefly jumps in to steal a spoonful directly from the pan, eyes never leaving the novel he’s holding open with a single hand. Even Jungkook stumbles in blearily at one point, nose first, requesting an extra two bowls for Jimin and Taehyung as well.

You’re onto your second serving by the time it’s just Yoongi and you. He’s pulled up a chair beside you, cradling a coffee. “I got a text this morning, you know,” he begins gently. “I can ignore it if you’re not up to it.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, recalling Sejin’s instructions the day prior. “It’s your day, then?” He nods silently, scanning you for any reaction. You hum, spoon swirling lazily in the dregs of your breakfast. “I’m up to it,” you answer finally, “if you are.”

“Always,” Yoongi replies immediately, voice bared and soft. His hand passes over yours, squeezing briefly, before he stands up and clears the bowls from the table. “Aspirin is in the pantry if you need it, blue container.”

You give him your thanks, left alone as he disappears upstairs.

Grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water, you track down the aspirin and take out two tablets, grimacing as the bitterness sticks to your tongue. While you may not actually be sick, a headache was beginning to bloom between your brows.

So much had happened in the past few days, you almost felt like you’d gotten whiplash. The early days of lounging around the house and chasing pleasure seemed so distant. Feelings tangled things up more each day, unraveling quicker than you can get a hold on them.

It wasn’t just you, either. You saw the way the guys looked at each other, how gentle they were, how thoughtful. It was in the little things. Jungkook’s laundry pile started featuring clothes from the other maknaes; Namjoon and Hoseok always sat so close together, even when there was room on the couch; Yoongi had started giving the others bigger portions when he cooked, even as his stayed the same. And Jin…

You startle when a door opens, glass almost slipping from your hands. It’s the unfilmed room across the stairs. You frown as a tall figure slips out, swamped in a massive pink hoodie that you’d never seen in the house before. A sleeve-covered hand reaches up to rub under the hood, dark hair poking out. Your breath catches. Jin…

He moves across the hall gingerly like his body aches, hand never leaving his face as he grumbles sleepily. For a split second, your mind entertains the thought of sprinting past before he sees you, avoiding the conflict that is no doubt upon you.

But only for a split second. Because the only thing worse than being confronted by him is not seeing him at all. You wait, instead, until he rolls his shoulders back, tipping his face to the ceiling to stretch out his spine. The hood falls back, exposing a serious case of bedhead, tired eyes, and sallow skin. But it’s Jin nonetheless, beautiful despite his apparent exhaustion, and your heart breaks again for being the one to cause this.

He notices you when his head comes back down from the stretch, and were you not in such despair you may have cracked a smile at the way he jumps. “Y/n…” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

Your mouth goes dry. Even if it wasn’t you don’t know what to say, simply bracing yourself for anger.

He doesn’t stiffen his features, however, simply watching you with melancholy eyes. “You look sad,” he says weakly.

Your heart is racing a hundred beats a second at just hearing him speak to you, and it takes you that much time just to process his words, eyes pricking sharply. “I am sad,” you reply honestly, blinking the wetness away. “You look tired,” you whisper in return.

His bottom lip trembles, before flattening tightly. Instead of responding verbally, he just nods.

The two of you sit in that silence for a while. Jin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused as they slip past you. You think you might be sick with the way your stomach flips.

Finally, you can’t stand the silence. “Are you still mad at-” you begin, but your words die in your throat as you’re enveloped tightly by him, clutching you so close that your chest constricts. The tensed breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a sob, and your arms fly up to hug him back, just as tightly.

There’s nothing more than just a simple hug, but your heart is still full, almost overwhelmed by the cathartic relief of having him close to you again, his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands rubbing circles on your back, the gentle sway as he rocks you in the hold.

It lasts for an eternity too short, and when he pulls away you feel untethered, already pining for that contact again.

His eyes are swimming, though you see the way he tightens his jaw to hold it back. “I’m devastated,” he admits, “but I miss you too much to ice you out like this. I need time but god, I don’t want space. Can you give me time?”

You’re nodding hastily, sniffing as your nose threatens to run. “Of course, Jin. I’ll be here. I… I think I-”

“Don’t-” he interrupts sharply, sucking in a shaky breath. “Don’t let now be the first time we say it. Later,” he promises.

We. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps, electricity thrumming along your nerves. You let that word settle you, repeating it in your head as Jin sends you a sad smile - but a smile nonetheless - and takes his leave, disappearing upstairs.

You decide to take a bath, in the end, letting yourself soak in the thought of “we” a little longer.

--

“So, what, we start barking? Chew on some sticks?”

Taehyung colours violently and Jimin sends Jungkook a sharp glare in rebuke. “Say less,” he scolds the youngest, before reaching up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, breaking up the curls. “We just ease into it. Taehyung doesn’t use it for humiliation or anything like that, he just likes being taken care of. Isn’t that right, pup?”

Taehyung hums, eyes already fluttering as he leans his head into Jimin’s palm. The three of them had migrated onto Taehyung’s now-made bed after their breakfast after Jungkook once again mentioned wanting to try petplay.

Significantly larger than Jimin, Taehyung has to awkwardly shuffle down the mattress further to rest his head in Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook can immediately see the lines of stress that melt away once he does so. Jimin smooths his hand down to cup the younger’s chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh as if he were patting a sleepy dog.

“You’ll just watch for now,” Jimin instructs Jungkook without removing his gaze from Taehyung, “and if it feels right, you can join in. There are no expectations and no rules, only to respect the process and don’t disrupt Tae’s petspace. Got it?”

Jungkook swallows as Jimin chooses that point to lift his steeled gaze, brows high as he waits for Jungkook to agree. “Got it,” the youngest confirms. He gets comfy, tucking his feet under him and leaning up against the pillows.

“Such a lucky boy,” the dom begins with his voice like melted sugar. “Dogs aren’t meant to be up on the furniture. But you’ve been good lately, so I thought I’d treat you.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed. He shuffles slightly, stretching one leg out until his ankle dangles off the edge of the mattress, but doesn’t audibly respond.

Jimin chuckles fondly through his nose, hand running down to rub up and down Taehyung’s clothed tummy, which is now facing upwards. “Oh, pup,” he coos, “you must be tired after the big walk. How about we rest for a bit, and we can play later?” Instead of waiting for a response, the dom just gasps like he’s forgotten something important. “Oh! Your collar! I must’ve taken it off when I took off the leash. Never mind; Jungkook, dear, could you get me the brush and collar out of the bedside table? Bottom drawer.”

It feels like the very particles in the air shift when Jungkook is ripped away from the observer role and into an active participant. He swallows away the dryness in his throat to little avail and nods, fumbling with the drawer handle and pulling out a barely-used hairbrush and velvet dog collar. “These?” he asks redundantly, nerves settling when Jimin gives him a pleased smile and holds out his hand.

“Alright, little puppy,” Jimin announces, his voice lilting easily back into the candyfloss tone that all owners used with their pets. “Let’s give you a brush before we put your collar back on. I don’t want your coat getting matted.”

Taehyung gives a small, throaty hum and lifts himself laboriously up onto his elbows, tipping his head up to his master. Jimin pats his cheek warmly and calls him a good boy, and Jungkook gets a front row seat to the beautiful sight of a sleepy, lusty Kim Taehyung going pink in the face, a shy smile twitching his lip.

‘Brushing his coat’ is just brushing his hair, but even Jungkook can see that the technique is slightly different. Jimin does it slowly, methodically, line by line from the front to the back, then reaching around to the nape of his neck to give it a good brushing there - Taehyung all but shivers at each swoop of the brush - even folding down each ear when he goes past. Watching it is nothing short of mesmerising, and Jungkook feels his spine tingle, wanting to feel it too.

Was it too soon to join? He could always ask for the brush later, he decided. Though even as he reached that conclusion, the thought was slipping out of his mind sand through fingers, hazier and hazier the more he listened to Jimin’s lull tone and watched his patient movements.

“There we go,” the dom whispers, passing the brush over one last time to settle all the curls in their rightful place, “much better now. Chin up, pup; time for your collar.”

Taehyung’s chin lifts the minutest of degrees. Jimin waits for a moment, but the brown-haired boy looks almost like he’s falling asleep on the spot, swaying slightly as his elbows prop him up.

“Silly me,” Jimin tuts with a smile, reaching out to manually adjust Taehyung how he wants him. “Doggies can’t understand human words, can they?” Like a proud parent, he turns to Jungkook, grin widening as he sees the state the boy is in. “I am trying to teach Tae-tae some commands. Sit, lie down, wait. Suck. He’s getting better.”

With that, the dom grabs the collar off the duvet and fiddles with the buckle, undoing it so that he can wrap it carefully around Taehyung’s neck. The process reminds Jungkook much of what happened when his parents put a collar on his childhood dog: slipping a finger under the material to test how snug it was, shifting it around until the small dangling pendant was to the front, giving it a little tug to ensure the buckle was on right.

At the gentle tug, Taehyung practically topples, going lax with his face down on Jimin’s thigh and snuggling down, breaths even. Jimin doesn’t comment on it, simply humming in acknowledgement and returning to softly stroking his back and shoulders. But he does glance over to Jungkook again, eyes glinting. “Do you wanna come a little closer, hm?”

At the invitation, Jungkook almost trips himself scooting over, wrapping his arms around one of Jimin’s and holding it to his chest. Seeing the tender moment shared between Taehyung and Jimin had made him feel positively touch-starved, desperate to feel some of that sweet attention.

Jimin’s eyes widen in bemusement before twisting his hand in Jungkook’s grip and giving his stomach a little scratch. “Goodness me, little energizer bunny, huh?”

Jungkook whines, recognising that higher-pitched voice. He was being talked to like a pet, and the thought made his insides hot. He presses his face against Jimin’s shoulder, feeling the heat on his skin there too.

“No need to get all shy on me now, bun,” Jimin teases. “I’ve already seen that little friend in your pants. Well, I suppose he’s not that little.”

Jungkook tightens his arms around Jimin’s one, wanting to rock his hips up to feel some friction. He just squirms instead, hoping his need is answered. “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. “Can this bunny speak, hm?”

Jungkook blinks, the furnace inside him cooling for a moment. “Am I not… supposed to?”

“I’m not telling you off, I’m asking,” Jimin explains softly, cocking his head down at the potentially-sleeping Taehyung in his lap. “Tae-tae likes to be non-verbal. It’s just preference. Would you rather keep speaking?”

After a moment of thought, Jungkook nods, then props his chin up, sending Jimin his best puppy eyes. “Minnie, I need you,” he pleads in a small voice, writhing against him again.

Jungkook’s fingers curl when Jimin’s hand dips lower suddenly, grasping his length from over the fabric of his sleep shorts. The pleasure is like a bolt that shocks his whole body, and when Jimin strokes him once, the texture of the fabric increasing the friction, the guttural sound that falls from his lips is more animal than human.

Jimin just smiles placidly, patting the throbbing heat once. “Does it hurt, bun? Want me to make it go away?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook’s breath is shallow with excitement. This feels like new territory, relying fully on Jimin to relieve the ache, too helpless, too stupid to do anything about it himself, just a dumb bunny with a generous owner.

“You’re drooling, bun,” Jimin points out, voice raspy with arousal. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook feels fingers at the elastic band of his shorts before Jimin withdraws. He whines, a pout threatening to form, but the dom just runs his fingers and palm over Jungkook’s mouth and chin. Then, when his hand delves in and grips Jungkook, he’s slick with Jungkook’s own drool, the slide wet and hot and electric.

He moans, but saliva won’t stop gathering in the hollows of his mouth. It’s like it’s impossible to close it at all, every firm, purposeful stroke making it harder to do that basic function.

“Noisy boy,” Jimin scolds, though there’s no venom to his tone. “You might wake the puppy up, bun.”

With a strangled groan, Jungkook’s head flops down, his teeth banging against Jimin’s shoulder. A thought floats across his dazed mind, of pressing his teeth into skin, lovebites to colour the bronze.

But his teeth don’t sink into flesh. Fabric fills his mouth. Jimin’s shirt. His teeth don’t stop, though. On the contrary, he chews on the cotton, letting it muffle the sounds he can’t help but make.

“Oh, good boy,” Jimin praises warmly, his hand speeding up mercilessly to pitch Jungkook over the edge. There’s no foreplay, no kisses or teasing touches. His hard cock is a problem that his master is kind enough to solve, that Minnie-hyung is making go away, and he won’t stop until his bunny has finally-

When Jungkook comes, his whole body feels it like an earthquake. Every muscle jerks, pulses so that his toes curl and his core trembles, the drool soaking the fabric of Jimin’s shirt now until he feels it run down his own neck, blubbering through the waves of it.

Jimin slows down after the first burst of cum, but doesn’t stop, only tightening his grip like he’s milking every last drop out.

Once the tides of pleasure have dipped back down again, Jungkook goes boneless, whimpering until the hand finally leaves his softening, oversensitive cock.

He’s panting, all of his body weight on Jimin to stay upright, and it takes a few moments for his senses to properly return to him, his heart still beating erratically in his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Jimin giggles elfishly, before reaching up to tap on Jungkook’s bottom lip with wet fingers. “You made such a mess, little bunny. Clean it up, now.”

Jungkook welcomes the digits, blinking blearily as the bitter tang of his own cum fills his mouth. He sucks Jimin’s fingers clean two at a time, swirling his tongue between them dutifully. It isn’t until he’s done and Jimin is praising him that he restores enough energy to sit up again.

Across from him, Jimin peels the soaking wet sleeve of his shirt off his shoulder, laughing softly in good humour even as his brows furrow at the weird feeling. Before Jungkook can offer up an apology, Jimin is stripping it off entirely, chucking it away and rubbing at his now-bared chest. “Much better,” he muses to himself. After a moment of letting Jungkook clear his head, Jimin turns to him, his dry hand returning to lazily card through Taehyung’s curls. “How was it, Jungkook?”

“Uh,” Jungkook replies eloquently, feeling the way his cock still throbs every few seconds in aftershocks. “Uh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jimin states proudly, before sending Jungkook a serious gaze. “We’ll talk later, yeah? When your dick isn’t hanging out.”

Jungkook flushes, scrambles to tuck himself away, and the movement jostles the bed enough that Taehyung groans, craning his neck up with bleary eyes and rumpled hair.

The two sitting on the bed go silent. Jimin cocks his head to the side and cups Taehyung’s cheek. “Were you- Tae-tae, did you just have a nap in the middle of the scene?”

Taehyung beams sleepily, eyes still lidded. “Mm.”

“Tae! Are you out of petspace now?”

“Think so.” With a dramatically loud cry, Taehyung reaches an arm up into a deep, arching stretch, rubbing at his eyes once he’s done. “Mm, yeah, definitely. My foot has kinda gone dead too.”

As Taehyung sits up to rub at his foot, pressing his thumbs into the muscle, Jimin’s shoulders sink with a deep pout. “Tae-tae,” he whines again, “you know I like playing with puppy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung replies easily, though it doesn’t sound like he is in the slightest, “I guess I just wanted to destress more than anything. I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Jimin’s face softens, his complaints dissolved at Taehyung’s words. Without a verbal reply, he just reaches out, hooks his finger on the neckline of Taehyung’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, humming into it slightly.

The movements, the touches are so natural and intimate that Jungkook feels like he’s intruding. It only lasts a moment before they break apart to go shower, but it’s enough time to sear the sight behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Maybe he’d been allowed to join them in their scenes, even cuddle with them, but he wasn’t a part of that bond that tied Jimin and Taehyung so strongly together. The thought sinks in his stomach, and he decides to skip the shower, getting dressed instead for a long workout downstairs.

--

When you knock on his door, Yoongi is at his desk, a pair of black-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He glances up, an eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You muffle a smile at his domestic getup - a grey t-shirt hangs off, far too big for him but outlining his chest and strong shoulders nonetheless, and his long black sweatpants all but cover his bare feet, toes tapping the carpet unconsciously as he waits for your reply. “I’ve been informed that today is your day.”

“Ah, checking in to the Fuck Hotel, I see,” he quips casually, slipping his glasses of and shutting the lid of the laptop he was working on. “We do have one vacancy.”

“Is that so?” you say, unable to stop your grin as he stands up from his office chair and rolls his head back like an athlete warming up.

“Comes with a continental breakfast,” he assures, before ducking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “God, hyung is becoming a bad influence on my sense of humour.” With slightly pink cheeks, he stretches out a hand towards you, before jerking it back and freezing, fingers curled and tensed. “Wait. Shit.”

You frown, glancing down at yourself, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“Hm. I just remembered my prompt, is all.” He takes a step back with a thoughtful furrow of his brows, clenching his hands into fists and putting them behind himself. “Dammit, I was meant to think of a game plan but I got distracted sorting out- uh- client emails.”

“Was this a bad time?” you ask with a light laugh, even as you cast a guilty glance towards the laptop. A month in and he was still doing work?

“No! No, it’s fine, it’s just…” Wincing, Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck and takes another step back, gesturing down at himself, and at the messy work desk. “I’m not in sexy mode yet. I look like a stay-at-home dad trying to work out how to order groceries online while my toddler is finally having her 2pm nap.”

You pause before an incredulous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “Okay, first of all, I think stay-at-home dads are very sexy, and I happen to think that you are very sexy. Secondly, ‘her?’ Why was that whole analogy so specific?”

Yoongi huffs defensively, petulantly throwing himself down to sit on the bed with his legs splayed wide. “I used to have a life plan, okay? But that’s not relevant now. The point is, I haven’t worked out how to do a good scene. I don’t want to it to be disappointing. Or, god forbid, boring.”

Your frown just deepens. “It doesn’t need to be an elaborate setup, Yoongi. Just fuck me. Touch me, at least. I can’t believe we’re still both wearing all our clothes when I’ve been very explicit about my intentions.”

You don’t miss the wince that flutters across his face. “That’s kinda the issue. Touching you, I mean.”

“You don’t wanna touch me?”

“I-” Yoongi all but stomps his foot, teeth clenching in frustration. “Of course I fucking want to, but I have to stick to my prompt, Y/n.”

Your mouth drops open. “So your prompt is that we can’t even touch each other? Doesn’t exactly sound very appealing for a porn show.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can still touch me,” he corrects with a dry gaze.

Unconvinced, you narrow your eyes. “Isn’t that convenient?” you question rhetorically. “Gonna make me do all the work this week because you haven’t organised it in your planner yet, Doctor Min?”

He glares at your teasing tone. “Excuse me for trying to play the game properly.” You swallow as his eyes run down your body heavily, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “If I could touch you, trust me, I’d have you dripping by now.”

Your thighs tighten, but you force them not to move. The last thing you want him to know is that you’re just about dripping already. “Sounds to me like you’re just lazy.” He doesn’t react, watching you make up your mind. You suck in a breath to hype yourself. “If I walk away right now, you’ll get nothing. Not only will you lose your prompt, but you’ll be stuck with blue balls. But if you give in and fuck me already, then you’ll only lose the prompt.”

“Who says I’ll even have blue balls? I’m perfectly comfortable,” he fires back immediately, tipping his head to the side cockily.

“Oh, please,” you drawl, letting your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge beneath his sweatpants, “you aren’t that big soft. Don’t kid yourself. So do you wanna get off, or not?”

His gaze hardens to stone, jaw flexing. “I’m surprised you think I need you for that. Aside from the fact that there are six other people in this house, I brought a fleshlight from home for a reason.”

Now that is something you hadn’t expected him to say. You freeze from your spot in the doorway, feeling heat pulse between your legs. Your spark of resistance is quickly fading, overtaken by need, so you don’t hesitate in firing back while you can. “If you think your fleshlight is better than me, then that’s your loss. Enjoy the bunkbeds; I’m off to do what you’re too cowardly to.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he snips, one of his hands sneaking under his shirt to rub his lower abdomen, fingers slipping below the hem of his sweats. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Feeling like you’ve lost the argument (and a little too horny to care) you have your final say by slamming it, thumping your feet with every step down the hall to your room.

Once inside, it takes mere seconds to throw yourself onto your bed back-first and shove your hand down your pants. But then, before you even dip into your wetness, a thought strikes you.

Pulling your hand out and making your way to your desk, you use your other hand to clumsily type in your password, and open a browser. It doesn’t take long to navigate to the page with all the paid streams for your own show, and with a slight flush you select Yoongi’s bedroom, impatiently punching in your credit card details.

After an agonising wait, the payment is processed and you’re brought to a private livestreaming site, a single window open in front of you.

The angle itself is strange, making Yoongi’s room look larger than it was, but you’re surprised at just how high quality the video and sound is once you bring it to full screen and slip your headphones in your ears. Yoongi is hunched over his nightstand, and you can actually hear the wooden slide faintly in the background as he opens and closes a drawer, returning to his office chair with a seemingly-transparent fleshlight and a bottle of lube.

Something about watching him through a camera in the corner of his room feels so wrong, especially as he palms impatiently at the tent in his pants, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount into the opening of the toy. You’d never been much of a voyeur - or, at least, so you thought - but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, blinding slipping your hands down your pants but over your underwear, simply pressing down on your clit to ease some of the crying need.

Oddly, the lube pours down and begins to drip out the other side, creating a dark patch on his clothed thigh. The audio picks up Yoongi cursing, and there’s no further preamble before he’s using one hand to hook down his sweatpants and kick them off to pool on the floor. The motion causes his cock to jerk up onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his grey shirt, visible only by a few pixels of darker grey.

He scoots a little down the seat of the chair and hitches a leg up over one of the arms, eyes slipping closed as the hand not holding the dripping fleshlight grips his own cock, thumb pressing at the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans lowly, the sound running through your headphones and straight down between your legs. His brows are furrowed like it’s almost paining him, but he hovers the opening of the fleshlight over his tip as if he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, he lowers the toy down one inch at a time, until the lube is drooling over his cock. Finally, the transparent toy slips down over his cock and his hips jump off the chair, his knuckles white on the arm of the chair and the fleshlight as he growls and lifts it back off again.

The sight of him intentionally teasing himself is too erotic for you to stay unmoving, and you find yourself burning up, losing the headphones for a moment to shuffle out of your own clothes. You hurry as much as you can, grimacing at your sopping panties, but by the time you’re back in your chair with nothing but a bra and tuning back into the stream, Yoongi’s not even focused on his toy anymore.

It sits propped up on his thigh, with two of his fingers lazily, almost absentmindedly thrusting deeply inside of it to keep it steady as the rest of him swivels in his chair to open his laptop again.

You frown and squint at the tiny screen on the stream. Rows of fuzzy squares stack up, and while you can’t be certain the phallic shapes of some of the miniscule images inside them make you think he was on a sex toy website.

He quickly opens a new tab, however, and your heart begins to beat nervously as a familiar page comes up. One you’d been on just earlier.

With bated breath you wait, hands grasping at the meat of your thighs and clothed breast to hold off on touching between your legs just yet. Yoongi navigates the Bangasm page, going through the same payment process you did.

It isn’t until you’re met with a miniature version of your own room on his screen that you realise what’s happened. And it’s when Yoongi squints and leans in closer, before turning to face the camera directly with a bewildered look, that you know you’ve been caught.

Frozen, you watch the on-screen, Yoongi look back and forth twice, before slowly scooting his chair back on an angle to the table, so that the laptop is in eyeshot even as his body is facing the camera fully.

Your mouth is dry, but the fleshlight he picks up again is wet, so wet that his fingers glisten, almost slipping off the toy entirely. He holds it tightly, transferring it to his dominant hand and teasing the top over his tip, biting hard on his lip.

The squeeze you have on your thigh is almost painful as your core burns, but you’re too stunned still to move, watching him dance the opening of the fleshlight over his cock, never dipping it inside.

With a twitching grin and lusty eyes, he glances towards the laptop. Your whole body feels hot as you glance over your shoulder to the camera in your room, before looking back at the screen. He’s not moving, chest visibly heaving even as he stares patiently at the computer screen.

He’s… waiting for you.

With one strangled breath, you tilt your chair away from the desk, adjusting your own laptop in a similar setup to him. Eyes locked on the stream, terrified you’ll miss a single moment of him indulging himself, you let your fingers uncurl from your inner thigh and trail them down, wasting no time in automatically locating your clit, massaging around the small bud.

Pleasure flows through you like hot water, down to your toes. After holding out for so long, after being so aroused for so long, the simplest touch has your knees weak and your head lolled back against the headrest.

On screen, Yoongi’s grin widens, and he rewards you by lowering the fleshlight, the clear silicone making way for the tip of his cock. He doesn’t stop there like last time, though; instead, he slowly but surely plunges it all the way down until it’s flush with his pelvis. Your eyes fly open when the flushed head pops out the other side, and Yoongi clearly enjoys it too judging by the way he curses and grips it tight, practically panting.

Without really intending, your fingers dip down and slip inside, two already. You barely feel a stretch with how wet you are. Although the feeling of something inside you is nice, you know your fingers just aren’t enough, especially with the angle of you slumped back in your chair.

So, you chance one look back at the screen - Yoongi is using the tip of one finger to spread his precum around the glossed tip of his cock, but his eyes are firmly locked onto you - and walk on shaky legs to your closet, where an unassuming (and so far unused) black silk bag lies amongst your shoes.

The amount of time it takes for you to duck into the bathroom and quickly wash the silicone vibrator you have with soapy water feels like an eternity, and by the time you hurry back it isn’t the toy that’s vibrating.

Frowning, you hesitantly answer the call that’s coming through on your phone from a familiar contact.

Yoongi’s voice immediately fills the room as the pixelated version on the screen rests his phone on the side of his desk, not jerking but twisting the fleshlight in slow arcs around his cock. “Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?”

“Says the one calling me,” you offer back lightly, switching onto speaker mode so that you can settle back in your chair, “enjoying the view?”

“A little too uneventful for me yet, sweetheart,” he teases, and his breathy groan is timed with the Yoongi on the stream lifting the fleshlight up a little and plunging it down again. “How about you put that toy in your pretty little pussy for me. For us.”

You feel your core pulse at the reminder that it wasn’t just Yoongi on the stream. Any number of anonymous strangers could be tuned in right now, seeing you with your legs spread.

The only way to cope is to lean into it instead of shying away. You slide the black silicone toy through your folds to slick it up, sighing with every light pass over your clit. Once it’s as wet as you are, you press the slightly bulbous tip down until it slips inside you, immediately shivering at the feeling.

The toy is small enough that you don’t need any special prep, yet big enough that it was satisfying, and curved just right. It had been your old reliable long before coming on the show, and there’s something strangely familiar and comforting about feeling it fill you out as you push it in deeper.

“Fuck, there we go,” Yoongi praises, and you hear the wet smacking noise of him snapping his hips up into the toy. “I may not be able to touch you, but you’ll still call my name when you cum for me.”

Your toes curl, and you’re no longer able to focus on the stream, letting your eyes fall shut and your ears tune in to his voice alone as you work the toy in and out of you.

He doesn’t waste any time in joining you, and the resulting sounds that fill your room are obscene, him making no effort to muffle the gravelled curses and moans, nor the wet thwack of silicone that gives away his movements.

The noise is somehow even more thrilling than the sight, and the feeling of his eyes on you encourages you to speed your hand up, even reaching down to desperately rub at your clit with the flat of your fingers, shivering at the wave of pleasure that wracks through your body.

It’s not long before you hear Yoongi’s voice turn guttural and the pace of the flesh light pick up frantically.

You wrench your eyes open and gaze blearily at the computer screen just in time to watch the stream of white that spills up through the back end of the fleshlight and over Yoongi’s knuckles. As hot as the image is, you whine at being made to watch this through the pixels instead of in real life, and the thought of being right fucking across from him as he fell apart is enough to make you seize up in your chair, orgasm draining you thoroughly, with not enough force to squirt but dripping on the seat nonetheless.

You take the toy out once pleasure turns to the sharp tweak of oversensitivity and pant, fighting to catch your breath as your feet feel positively numb.

Coming down from your high, you almost forget the running phone call until you hear his voice come through the speaker again. “Have a shower and then come back down to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

The beeping tone leaves you alone in your room, and you loll your head back over the edge of the chair with an exhausted moan, not without a grin playing on your lips. You wouldn’t protest to that.

[realcube]

The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift. 

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’  

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café. 

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’ 

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.” 

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

✿✿✿✿✿

‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring  — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top. 

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig. 

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu. 

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it  — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu. 

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice. 

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else. 

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor. 

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses. 

✿✿✿✿✿

“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!” 

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit  — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window. 

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven. 

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.” 

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.” 

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave! 

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.’

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.  

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping. 

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by, 

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’ 

[tenthgrove]

Three Men Down

My contribution to @pillarfuckeranon's Christmas collab, for the prompt 'Sick Day'

If you were a less reasonable individual, you would probably find a way to blame yourself for this mess. It’s La Squadra di Esecuzione’s first Christmas party since you signed onto the team and it’s the most awkward, lifeless pit you’ve ever been a part of.

Of course, this would not be a reasonable assessment of things, because you are in no way to blame for the sickbug that wiped out half the team (well technically a third, and technically they’re just moderately bed-bound but that’s beside the point), and you also suppose it’s probably too early in the night to be making such a judgement. Above all else, maybe you should be putting more emphasis on the part about how this party is being run by literal assassins.

You do love these guys, really.

You give a shy smile to Pesci as he kindly refills your drink. The two of you have an unofficial alliance as the team’s newbies, firm allies in not knowing what in God’s name the others are doing half of the time. He skirts back across the room to the opposite sofa, conspicuously with no older brother to hide behind tonight. Prosciutto is upstairs with the sickness.

Next to Pesci is Ghiaccio, engaged in a heated argument with Sorbet about cake flavours while Gelato covers his mouth and snorts on the sofa perpendicular to them. With both Prosciutto and your Capo too unwell to participate in the festivities tonight, Sorbet is stepping in as your responsible adult for the evening. With how drunk Formaggio and Illuso already seem dancing in the corner, it looks like he has his work cut out for him.

Speaking of responsible, there’s one more thing that needs to be mentioned. With team medic Melone rounding off the three infected members, the title of nurse has been passed to you. So yeah, you’re somehow going to have to juggle that with the party stuff. And looking at the clock… it has been a couple of hours. You should probably go check on them.

You make your excuses and head upstairs.

Standing in front of the door to Risotto’s bedroom there is nothing to be sensed except silence and darkness. It’s good to know he’s still his normal self. You knock quietly, almost fearful of disrupting the silence too abruptly. Your capo responds horsely.

“Come in.”

You enter the room to find not the total dark abyss you expected, but Risotto’s face illuminated by the light of his laptop.

“Bastard, I told you you needed rest!” you cajole him.

“I only wished to check something,” he protests in vain as you stride over to take the computer off of him.

“It can wait, Ris, you’re sick and need to rest,” you maintain. He looks at you silently. “Listen, the more you rest, the quicker you’ll be well enough to work again.” Risotto looks to the side with a hint of shame.

“Fine,” he concedes.

“Good, glad we’re clear on that… anyway, how are you feeling?” you ask, some warmth returning to your voice.

“Honestly, pretty shit. I haven’t been this sick in years. I’m not throwing up like Pros is but I don’t think I’ve ever had a headache this bad. Honestly I just want to sleep, but I can’t when I’m this uncomfortable.”

“Alright,” you comfort him, touching his head. Christ, that’s what you call a fever. “If you can’t sleep, at least rest. It’s better than nothing. Is there anything I could get you?”

“You’re very kind, but I think the others need you more than me.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure. Text if you need anything,” you tell him. Risotto nods as you head out the door. It’s true Risotto is probably the least ill out of the three of them, so you’ll need to check on the rest promptly.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Risotto requests. “Keep that laptop safe. It’s brand new and very expensive.”

“Will do!” You promise, returning to the corridor.

“Prosciutto?” you call out, knowing he likes to be given warning of when anyone is about to enter his room. “It’s me, can I come in?”

Prosciutto growls.

“Fine.”

Prosciutto does not like being ill. Maybe it’s the discomfort itself or the embarrassment of looking weak but it sets fire to his temper. You open the door and see him rolled onto his side in bed, normally-neat hair clinging to his sweat-laced face. He looks at you indignantly.

“What time is it?”

“Eight Twenty-Five.”

“God-damn it. This shit feels like it will never end,” Prosciutto grumbles. He sits up shakily, wiping his brow. “Tempted to just knock myself out with sleeping pills and hope I’m better in the morning.”

“Could you help me with something first?” you ask. “I need to hide Risotto’s laptop so he doesn’t work himself to death.”

“Melone’s room,” he answers almost instantaneously. “Even Capo isn’t brave enough to look in there.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckle, “I’ll try that. You try and rest now.”

You swear as you leave, you hear a quiet ‘thank you’ from his mouth.

The final destination on your rounds is Melone’s room. Of the three, he’s taking the sickness the best, although physically you think he’s had it worst as he’s been in bed a couple days now. He hums warmly as you knock on the door. All things considered, he looks pretty serene.

“Ahh, you’ve come back to me my angel,” he smiles. You roll your eyes theatrically.

“And what’s all this for?” you respond, failing to hide your own smirk.

“Nothing, only I’m very happy to have you caring for me. I’m feeling a little better now, maybe I can be up by tomorrow?” he opines.

“Hopefully,” you agree, sitting at his bedside. “You were the first to catch it, so hopefully you’ll be the first out as well. We’re missing you at the party, however.”

“Ahh yes, that is a shame,” Melone says sadly. “You know how much I was looking forward to it. Any fun in my absence?”

“Here and there,” you shake your hand. “It’s definitely a bit flatter when we’re down three members, but Illuso and Formaggio are pulling their weight.”

“Save me some cake, please Tesoro.”

“You know I will.”

Remembering why you came in here, you place Risotto’s laptop on the bedside table. “Guard this for me will you? I need to stop Ris from overworking himself to death.”

::::::::::::

9pm. You’ll admit things are starting to get better. Ghiaccio’s calmed down enough to loosen up a bit and Gelato brought everyone ice cream he made himself, so everyone’s happy now. Everyone except Risotto, who just sent you a very interesting text:

“Can you tell me why I’m being emailed flirtateous messages by myself?”

Well, you can, but does he really want to know that?

Sighing loudly, you march upstairs and snatch the laptop from Melone, who is just as you feared typing eagerly away into the laptop you left with him, and head swiftly back down to the living room. Sure enough, the offending messages are right there on the screen.

“Problem solved, Capo,” you text back.

“Many Thanks.”

Sorbet and Pesci look at you in confusion, now being seated next to each other as Ghiaccio has gotten up to go argue with Illuso.

“It’s a long story,” you tell them. Sorbet shrugs indifferently.

“I think I can put the pieces together.”

Perhaps spotting the brewing conflict between the three men in the corner, Gelato enters from the kitchen with perfect timing. He sits down between Pesci and Sorbet.

“Jackbox Part Games anyone?”

And lo, all is well.

:::::::::::

About an hour into the games, Risotto starts texting again. You should probably chide him for not resting but you suppose if he’s been trying this long you can’t really blame him. At least Melone doesn’t seem to be up to any more trouble.

“I can hear things getting louder downstairs. I’m taking that as a good sign?” he observes. If he can hear you from his bedroom on the third floor up he must have damn good hearing, either that or you’re losing yours.

“Mostly. Illuso’s just itching to have a fight with someone but Sorbet and Gelato are doing their jobs well enough. We aren’t disturbing you are we?”

“No, don’t worry. As you know I’ve dealt with far worse.”

In front of you, Illuso suddenly throws something across the room in celebration after winning the round. Formaggio gets up to insist it should have been him.

“Uh oh, here goes,” you message Risotto. You look around for your responsible adult, but alas, Sorbet has disappeared again into the kitchen.

“You cheated!” Formaggio insists, drunkingly slamming his fist concerningly close to the wine glass right next to the laptop you’ve been charged with guarding. “You looked over my shoulder I saw you!”

“Ha, you’re just jealous of my killer humour!”

“It’s certainly killing me,” Ghiaccio says flatly.

“Listen, listen,” Illuso slurs, stumbling into the centre of the room. “All of you can relax. You’re all still ahead of Pesci.”

Pesci, to everyone’s surprise, stands up.

“Excuse ME?”

Illuso is too shocked to respond to that one.

“The LAST thing we need today is you going around being such an ass, Illuso!”

Dear god, you’ve never heard Pesci angry before but he can shout. Illuso takes a step back.

“No, don’t step away from me! I saw you cheating too, and you need to start… need to start…”

Pesci looks over to the doorway with terror and you already have a feeling what he’s looking at. The room falls silent as a heavily panting Prosciutto pulls himself into the room, eyes laced with fury.

“Pesci,” he begins. “What, in god’s name are you shouting about?!”

“Nothing, Fra,” Pesci says sheepishly, any trace of his brief moment of assertiveness seemingly gone as quickly as it came. Sorbet and Gelato have returned from the kitchen now, but even they aren’t brave enough to intervene when Prosciutto’s involved.

Prosciutto looks between the 7 of you, pointing his finger accusingly.

“I don’t want to hear another sound from you, or I’m shutting this shit down. Understood?”

Each of you nod, one by one. Prosciutto thanks you, and turns to leave. He coughs and stumbles slightly, knocking over the drinks glass seated next to you. It splashes over the laptop, and the screen goes black. The whole room gasps. Silence falls.

You get a text from Risotto.

“You’ve gone quiet all of a sudden, is everything okay?”

[jiminrings]

last chronological part for stem koo... WHEW I WATCHED THEM GROW WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

they finally become lunchbox lovers

“you’re asking me what’s jungkook like?”

jimin couldn't be any more surprised

first of all, his day started with yOU texting him and asking if you can drop by for a second, and the moment he texted "sure???", you're literally already knocking on the door

and second, you're asking him???

“oh come on. he clings to you with every chance he gets. i thought you gave him a chance already.”

your eyes only deadpan that jimin actually gets the hint, his mouth curling in a eureka moment that he managed to figure out himself without you talking

“oH! so that’s why you’re asking me because you’re thinking of giving him an actual chance.”

alright finally

you slump in relief over not saying it out loud, expressing the slightest bit of worry you have to someone (that's not as close to you like yoongi and jin are) who'd get where you're coming from without bias

“i just wanna know how he usually is when he’s not on my heels.”

“honestly? the same. probably even a bit more clingier.”

jimin wastes no time in ratting jungkook out, even leaning back to the couch with how relaxed he is

“talks about you too. i’m sorry y/n but even i know what shampoo you use!!!”

jimins knows your wHAT

"my shampoo???"

“mhmm. made me drive him to a grocery store at 10 in the evening so he can individually smell all the shampoos without anyone calling him a creep or something like that,” he nods earnestly and doesn't look like he's playing with you or the sort

you're quite frozen and jungkook's roommate isn't at all fazed and is even pulling up pICTURES of their impromptu grocery trip

“he even made it in a scientific paper format. with the hypothesis and conclusion and everything.”

he points it out just in time when you swipe to jimin's hand holding a printed piece of paper with the document in the monitor right behind it, the next pictures being blurry because that's when jungkook freaked out

jimin gets his phone back but not without sending you the pictures you just saw even if you didn't ask for them, trying to hide the amusement in your eyes when you decide to scroll through them again later

“cut him some slack though. he’s never really had a girlfriend, y’know? or like even a crush. he’s just navigating it with his instincts and all the advice he gets.”

hold on a second

“... advice?”

he thought you'd never ask (he'll still say it even if you don't) which is why he brightly grins, hunching over as if to let you in on a guarded secret

“i’m one of his consultants!!! didn’t suggest the shampoo part though.”

who could have possibly thought of that idea then ://

you hum in faux complacency, trying to get this as fast as possible so you could make up your mind quicker

“what else?”

jimin's relaxed now that he's had a proper laugh with you and realized you aren't as Intimidating As He Thought You Were, recounting the things in his mind like a to-do list

“he’s sickeningly kind.”

the gravity of his words strike him before they do with you, straightening his posture to clear up the air right away, “but i knoW that what he did to you is the furthest thing from kind, and trust me, i really got that point across!!!”

by point, jimin means cooking him burnt meals and jungkook having to endure it because he doesn't like wasting food

additionally, that also meant jimin served kook a cRISP smack on the back of his boba ball head into next week

look at him <3 seokjin, yoongi AND jimin gave him shit!!! now isn;t that teamwork

you're unable to paint the mental image in your head because he continues, grabbing your attention once again

“but apart from that, jungkook could just be too kind for his own sake,” he says sincerely. “he’s like the kid the principal refers to in elementary when they talk about peer pressure!!!”

your first instinct is to snort at that, the mental image definitely forming in your head now

is it just sO bad that you and jimin agree on this

“jokes aside, jungkook’s really genuine.”

it's the last thing jimin wraps it off with when you stand from the couch, cheeks still a little warm when he trails you behind the door

you're just about to thank him when the door in front of you opens and almost hits you in the process, the person behind it just as alarmed

jungkook’s just now coming home because he had to pick up some last-minute groceries from the convenience store downstairs that jimin forgot from his last run, clearly startled to why would wou be here

"oH???? y/n??? what are you doing here???"

his pupils are shaking between the two of you and he's not even trying to hide is incoming panic

“.... a-are you and jimin-“

“yup! sorry bud! we were just-...” jimin's attempt at a lighthearted joke is halted as fast as it was introduced, getting a smack on the middle of his back that makes him wince

“you’re annoying, jimin."

oOOOOH you just put your palm on him!! yea at this rate he's gonna be your best friend too won't he

jungkook's processing things as fast as he could, getting a reassuring glance from you that puts him at ease

“we were just talking, kook.”

he nods even if he's still a tiny bit unsure, calling for you when you're on your way out the door

“a-about what though?”

:-)

“you’d know soon enough.”

( ♡ )

“you wanna tell me now why we went on this drive?”

seokjin yawns at a stoplight even when his car is the only one waiting on the intersection right now, not in the mood for a ticket with a printed traffic light picture of him mid-yawn in his matching pajamas anytime soon

“no reason," you sing-song and it makes him snort, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “couldn’t sleep."

“well that makes one of us.”

you've unabashedly knocked on jin's door and even if it took you two tries, he still answered nonetheless, not even asking for an explanation why before he sleepily took his keys and grabbed his house slippers for shoes

you had no destination in mind at 3 in the morning which is why jin’s just driving for no rhyme nor direction and is just going with his brain’s one-second impulses of where to turn

he’s game for anything, actually — that much you know

although you do know that jin literally wouldn't do this for anyone else besides the people he find worth all this (aka everyone except you and yoongi and ok maybe namjoon sometimes)

the drive is beyond serene and even with repetitive radio music playing in the background, you don't actually mind it

when you're with jin, it just feels like you're in a constant bubble of comfort and ease that you always try to look for in everything

he doesn't necessarily need explanations,, he just deduces from things at face-value and later ask about it when you're comfortable enough to share

jin points at a drive-thru he suddenly had a craving for as you were about to suggest it anyway

you're not even quite sure why there's a line but neither of you complain, the situation more than bearable that a little waiting wouldn't dampen your mood

the words you've been thinking of the whole day finally slip across the silence, as casual yet as sincere as they could be

“i’m really thankful that you’re in my life, jin. you know that right?”

he seems pleasantly surprised when you look at his side profile, shaking his head

“mhmm. you only tell me a couple times but you put your knee on top of mine everyday,” he chuckles at the habit of yours and he kNOWS for a fact you would put your knee on top of his if only he wasn't behind the wheel. “tell me all about it, kid.”

it's genuine laughter that encompasses the whole car, his chuckles suddenly ceasing when he realizes another possibility

“you’re not asking me for allowance, are you? because yoongi’s already bugging me for his next month’s.”

wait what

“you give yoongi an allowance???”

“you didn’t know???”

:///

“... i’m not asking for an allowance.”

“..... but do you want it,.,..”

jin sees you pursing your lips and intentionally looking at everywhere but him, already getting his answer

“fine. that’s the furthest you two could get from me!! don’t expect me to pack your lunchboxes to school now. you must be crazy.”

jin, in fact, packs you and yoongi lunchboxes more often than not

jin, aLSO, does all the paper rolling for you so when the three of u get occasionally high, it’s all nice and tight

jin is also the one who does all the talking on the phone to customer service when neither of you are willing

he asks the moment he relays your usual midnight snack slash early breakfast order he's already memorized to the attendant, patiently looking at you

“you want anything else with that?”

“i’m all good.”

it's in between cars and stoplights that the car is filled with more emotion again, acting on it when you realize it when seokjin's mid-bite on his hashbrowns

“jin?”

“yes?” he speaks muffled, looking at you once before bringing his attention back on the changing stoplight

“love you.”

he feels himself still for a second even if his foot's on the gas and one hand is on the wheel, a somber look on his face that he later smiles sincerely

“love you too, kid.”

( ♡ )

“it’s not my birthday if that’s what you’re thinking.”

yoongi sleepily mumbles the moment he feels his bed dipping, his side that was once holding a pillow now being occupied by you

“i know.”

you wedge yourself between his heavy comforter, tossing and turning until it feels comfortable

“but i actually don’t know your birthday lol it’s-...”

“fuck right off.”

yoongi doesn't question why you're in his bed, because the last time you did, it was because you were left traumatized after seeing a genuinely good horror movie that it was pending to give you nightmares

he didn't see you watch any movie today though, but he'll take you in nonetheless

“kidding.”

you offer in consolation because yoongi's birthday is in your calendar even if you know it by heart, a mindless hum in reply

it's when you drop your arm on his waist like it's dead weight and relax completely, your face near to his mop of hair that it's making him think you're actually cuddling him rn

quick how can he get a picture of this to get this framed

“are you telling me now?”

he questions with his eyes half-open, shimmying backwards so that you're able to hug him more comfortably

“my airconditioner’s busted.”

“mhmm. give me ten minutes. i’ll fix it for you.”

it's 4 am and if your airconditioner really was busted, you wouldn't have let it stay busted for that long

“don’t. it’s okay. i wanna be here anyways.”

both you and yoongi know that your airconditioner’s in tip-top shape and is actually the one that blows the coldest air in the dorm

sometimes you think he’s an angel in disguise because there’s no way you deserve a human best friend like him

“yoongs?”

“hmm?” he hums before he falls asleep again, trying to keep up while having his eyes closed so he could listen to you

“you know that i’m really glad you’re in my life, right?”

oh

:)

“mhmm. you don’t say, sweets," he teasingly chuckles, feeling his ribcage rise in amusement under your arm

“fuck-“

“yeah, i know. i do, because you put me as your family member in your emergency contacts, but you don’t know that i know that.”

... oh

you don't even know how yoongi came to know but you don't question it, the warmth in your heart doubling

“love you.”

“love you too, y/n.”

( ♡ )

jungkook’s the most nervous he’s been in awhile

and that’s coming from him who sees yoongi in almost a daily basis

after all, jin did tell him you can be quite forgetful becasue you tend to take care of things all at once

he’ll sTILL try to be as smooth and casual as much as possible though

“big game tomorrow huh?”

and by big game that means as in your last qualifying game to whether or not your team would compete in the yearly (not to mention prestigious) soccer tournament

you chuckle at the thought because by now, you should already be sleeping and getting some rest even if it’s just seven in the evening

but you’re here <3 out at a park near jungkook’s dorm, sharing hand warmers <3

“yeah. it’s a make or break match.”

“i actually haven’t seen you play before, y’know," jungkook silently admits, looking down on his shoes as he thinks if he's just offended you

“really?” you ask in genuine curiosity, “then how come you interviewed me for your little survey when you haven’t watched me play before?”

oh

tHAT

“i uh, i actually just really wanted to talk to you that day. i-i don’t normally approach people first, but you just looked warm enough for me to reach out first.”

he's babbling before he even knows it, oblivious the growing smile on your face

“then i asked jimin because he kNOWS everything, and it was all in good fate that it turned out you were the soccer captain!! i was excited because i had a legitimate reason to talk to you that day.”

so that’s why

he wanted to talk to you even before his lunchboxes were taken out of the situation!!!

“how about me? why was it me?”

ahem

you're not trying to be funny but you can't help but chuckle, scratching the back of your ear in thought

“i honestly couldn’t tell either, jungkook.”

he almost coughs in shock, masking it off with playing it off for the bite of the chill of the night

“all i know is that something told me it was you,” you timidly add, looking down on your hands. “and i went for it.”

right can he chalk up mad blushing to the night air

he fiddles with the drawstrings of his sweatpants this time, his eye contact with you becoming fidgety

“big game tomorrow,” he repeats and you're just about to tell him that your conversation sounds like it's gonna be repeated

“don’t forget your eyedrops, alright?”

....

was that smooth enough

“eyedrops?”

yeah

uhm

that was... random

“oh right! you gave them back to me.”

“yeah. you should open it tonight, probably. to see if it’s already all-evaporated, y’know? if it is, then let me know tomorrow so i can buy you new ones.”

“highly doubt that they would, but alright, kook.”

you take the little banter to be your cue to walk back to your dorm, about to say goodbye to him when he makes an audible sound of confusion

it confuses you even more when he's trailing behind you

“your dorm’s twenty feet away from where we are, jungkook.”

“y-yeah i know that!! i’m walking you home, silly.”

right!!

hee-hee

he’s keeping his hands to himself even if he BADLY wants to hold your hand or even your forearm but he has to resist that urge rn

but he does intentionally brush shoulders with you and mumble “pothole.” so he could nUDGE you to the side even if there aren’t any to begin with

silence with jungkook now is comfortable as it has been for more than awhile, the walk passing by faster that you almost wish you walked slower

goddamn it he should've said there was a pothole atleast ten more times to make the walk longer

“goodnight, koo.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

there’s obviously no goodnight kiss but he dOES get a squeeze on his bicep

you take your time when you come home — to unwind as much as you could before you stress yourself out tomorrow

your shower routine may have took a little longer this time but it makes you get dressed as quick as you could when your eyes see the origami box you've been putting off from opening, one that jungkook just told you to open, because as far as you knew they were just EYEDROPS!!!

... the supposed bottle of eyedrops that’s too well-packaged and clearly thought-out

an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch AND a plain ziplock baggie as if the other two weren’t enough

it’s when you open the box within the ziplock bag that you feel it’s definitely not as light as a bottle of eyedrops would be

there’s a very visible dent weighing down on the pouch (that’s within the origami box) that’s cLEARLY not your eyedrops

you’re actually nervous to the point that you just open unfurl it with your eyes closed, feeling two items in there

the plastic bottle of eyedrops, and definitely the cool surface of what feels like

a bracelet?

it’s a pretty straightforward yet timelessly elegant silver link bracelet, equipped with a couple options for how tight or loose you want to wear it

it hits you all at once and god does it just render you speechless

jungkook has this bracelet too.

you’re quite speechless and in between looking at it up-close to avoiding looking at it at all, trying to calm your breathing by focusing on the eyedrops instead

the said eyedrops you've been so used to seeing that you immediately sense that there's something oFF with the label???

its stuck-on, that's for sure, but something about it is not as seamless and stationary and official as it should be

it's almost as if there's something snuck inside it and-

...

..... there is

it's scotch tape that's just as thin as the actual label of the bottle itself, having to peel the whole label in order to see it in entirety

it's the same double-sided label jungkook worked so hard to peel flawlessly so he could try and replicate it in the same exact design and measurements, having to even take it up to a classmate from stem he once knew that transferred to graphic design

(yeonjun did ask for a science paper in exchange for his replication of the eyedrops slash adhesive label because who fucking kNEW he still had science even when in graphic design, but jungkook thinks it's fair trade so it's worth it)

it's the same exact label jungkook's had for a month and only recently gave it to you a week ago, a truth he's long since known

it's the same exact label that reads —

i love you

— in his handwriting you've come to known by heart, the label in your hand feeling much more heavy than the bracelet in the other

you already know what to do.

.

.

.

it's game day and u are about to launch yourself into orbit if you hear oNE more drum cheer because it just makes you nervous even more

yeah SURE it makes you pumped when it's the actual game itself but not now!!! not now when you're pumping yourself with electrolytes and at the risk of peeing from nervousness and too much hydration

you haven't seen seokjin nor yoongi yet and as much as that lessens the pressure on you, that alsO makes you nervous because they're your emotional support people!!!! where r they

usually you would see them in the front row of the bleachers and neither of them have any snacks because all of their focus would be on you

jin is nOT mr. kim from student affairs when it comes to your games,,, nuh-uh sir,,, he's that guy from the other team that glares so hard it dISTRACTS me from scoring in the perspective of the opposing team

coach's about to whistle like five minutes from now for a final huddle and everyone's getting their final stretches in

you're too busy looking for people that you actually want to be here that you're taken off-guard when one of them grasps at your forearm, a breathless smile one his face

"give them hell out there, alright. you're a champ."

it's jungkook!!!

IT'S JUNGKOOK!!!!@&$&":@:"$

he looks especially handsome today that you just short-circuit immediately

he's wearing a shirt with your team colors on it aND!!!

he ditched his glasses today to wear contacts, not only because he wanted to look a bit more different and special today, but because he's also scared that a ball would be thrown in his direction and injure him with the additional impact of his glasses

his hair's pushed back with his forehead showing instead of his usual hairstyle and god is it making you a little dizzy

he's beaming at you and his eyes immediately wander to your wrist, not expecting the feeling in his gut next

you're not wearing the bracelet.

jungkook feels the sudden urge to cry even when in public but it's when you grip at his forearm tightly that he stays still, squeaking when you realize his line of thought

"can't wear any jewelry on the field. i-i'm wearing your bracelet as an anklet for the meantime, it's underneath my sock."

...

....

...... oh my god

jungkook's never felt this frozen and euphoric at the same time, sputtering over nothing when your face looks like the furthest thing from joking

you're about to excuse yourself suddenly when your eyes finally take notice what's thrown on his shoulder, something about it being so familiar that it throws you off for awhile

"is that my jersey?"

he nods eagerly to your query, proudly unfolding it for you to see your spare soccer jersey with your surname and number right on it, the exact marks being the same from when you tried to use a laundry pen on it

he didn't get it replicated???

"h-how did you get that? where did you get that?"

jungkook thought you'd never ask, the words he never thought he'd say already leaving his lips

"yoongi gave it to me."

you only have a handful of jerseys on-hand and even if you could always request for more, the ones you have at home are a little more sentimental

you gave jin and yoongs one each from the only several ones you had, and you know yoongi would not give up his for jungkook

but now, you do know that he snuck to your closet and took one to give it to jungkook willingly, trusting him enough to give it to you behind your back

kook's sTILL not fully-forgiven but they're getting there sooner or later

wait why is this making you cry

before you know it, you're pushing yourself to jungkook to hug him tightly, the boy being surprised for a second but ultimately reciprocating once it registers

"i love you too."

.

.

.

.

.

this is the last chronological update for stem koo aka lunchbox lovers!! however, this is not the end of them!! with the end of this chronological series, this means that all the future updates don't necessarily have to be linked — they're miscellaneous and don't have to follow a specific layout like this part of their arc.

with that said, feel free to send in asks on what you want to see from the lunchbox lovers (misc. requests, questions, and everything in between) and i'd love to fulfill them because after all, this series was born purely out of your ideas <3 also pls send in ur thoughts and feedback and love because i have da greatest time reading through all of them!! thank you for all the love for da stem koo universe <3

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Quarantine Lovers | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: Can we have a Charlie x reader where she is his secret quarantine partner and the cast keeps guessing who it is until Maddie names a famous writer and gets it right? Thanks!

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I’m not sure if this is what you wanted but i kinda like it haha

Charlie has always been secretive about his private life. It’s always been his one thing he promised himself. Work life and private life needs to be separate. Especially in the industry he’s in now. You and Charlie have been together for a couple of months now and nobody knows. It all started when he’d finished filming Julie and The Phantoms and came back to Dieppe from Vancouver. He went for a hike with one of his brothers when they found you sitting on a rock, clutching your ankle. 

“Hey, are you okay?” his voice made you look up. You offered him a polite smile, trying not to show your pain or the fact you were thinking ‘Holy crap, attractive”. “Yeah, just threw my ankle a little bit on the rocks over there,” you pointed to a few feet behind the boys. “Was waiting for it to blow over and I could go on, but I’ve been sat here for…” you checked your watch, “About half an hour.” You chuckled at your own pathetic behavior. “I used to be really good at these hikes, you know?” Charlie then chuckled too, mostly at how endearing you were. 

“Can you stand on it a little bit if we support you?” Patrick, Charlie’s brother, asked then. 

“I’m not sure…” The two guys walked up to you, each taking a hand of yours to pull you up, and then wrapping one arm around your waist. You could go like that for about a kilometer until your foot began to throb again. “Can we take a break?” you squeak. Charlie and Patrick placed you onto a tree trunk very gingerly and took a seat next to you. 

“Are you from around here?” Charlie then asked.

“Yeah, I live in Moncton with my best friend,” you replied with a smile, glad he’s distracting you from the pain in your ankle. 

“No way! We live in Dieppe!” The excitement on his face was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.  Your eyes and smile widen at this, not necessarily at the fact he lives kind of close, but at the excitement on his face. 

“Cool! I have family in Dieppe, so I know my way around there,” you told them. Charlie and Patrick nodded their heads at this, not entirely sure what else to say to this stranger they just picked up from a rock in the middle of nowhere. 

“So, what’s your name?” Charlie then asked upon reminding himself of this fact. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you replied. 

“Charlie Gillespie, and this is my brother, Patrick,” he introduced himself and his brother, who gave you a little wave. The wind suddenly picked up, and you knew exactly what that meant. 

“It’s going to rain soon. We better get going.” Charlie and Patrick nodded their heads agreeingly and helped you up from the trunk. 

“Get on my back,” Charlie then suggested. “It’s going to go quicker than you hopping along with us.” You hesitated for a few seconds, but then decided you agreed with him. Patrick helped you jump on Charlie’s back, and the three of you continued your walk down the trail, chatting about your lives the whole way down. 

You found out Charlie was an actor and had just finished filming about a month ago, and you told him you were a screenwriter. Your most recent work was on Outer Banks and Season two of Umbrella Academy. You talked about your hopes and dreams and agreed the industry you both were in was a tough one.

From that day on, the two of you have been pretty inseparable. You became really close friends and spent a lot of time together before he finally asked you out on a first date. Then came more and more dates, and then came March 2020. Quarantine. And since Charlie had been spending most of his nights at your place since your best friend was with their parents, you both decided to quarantine together. 

No one knew about your relationship. Not even his friends from the cast of Julie and The Phantoms. Only his family knew, and that’s all that mattered right now. No one knew you two were spending lockdown together at your place, and you could keep it a secret for a very long time. Charlie liked it this way, though the cast had been texting and calling non-stop because they knew he wasn’t home in Dieppe. 

When September 10th hit, and he could finally show you the work he’d done on Julie and The Phantoms. 

“What do you think, Baby?” he asked every five minutes when you were cuddled up on the couch watching it together. 

“Stop asking me that question, Char,” you giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You were fine for most of the show, chuckling at the ghost jokes or pretty much anything Reggie did, bopping your head along to the catchy songs. And then Unsaid Emily hit. “Oh, no…” you whined as the music started to play and on-screen-Charlie started to sing the sad song. The Charlie next to you chuckled, endeared by your investment in the show, and wrapped his arms tighter around you whilst kissing your head multiple times. “HOW DARE THEY END THIS LIKE THAT?!” You screamed at the very end, making Charlie love you even more. Afterwards, he listened to all of your theories and your predictions for season 2. 

Thus far, quarantine is going really well at the Y/L/N-Gillespie Quarantine Residence.

The couple of weeks after the release of Julie and The Phantoms, Charlie had to do a lot of zoom calls for interviews. Sometimes even multiple a day. You made sure you were never in sight during those interviews, sometimes even leaving the house for a walk, but today, you decided to stay home and work on a script for an episode of season 2 of

Outer Banks.

You were sat on the sofa with your laptop and all your notes while Charlie was doing his interview in the bedroom. You could hear him talk to his castmates and the interviewer, and you often had to pause your writing because you wanted to hear what he was talking about.

“Where have you been spending quarantine?” the interviewer asked. Most of them said home with their families, and even Charlie said ‘home’. This answer melted your heart just a tiny bit.

“That’s a lie, Charlie,” Madison said with a giggle. “Charlie has a secret quarantine partner and doesn’t want to say who!”

“I am spending time with family, exploring Dieppe. I don’t know where you get your information from, Mads.” Though Charlie was a good actor, he couldn’t hide the fact he was lying to his own friends. Even you could hear how flustered he was.

“OK, I wanted to start with a couple of the fans’ questions that they sent in,” the interviewer continued, either ignoring the banter and the big piece of gossip they could get out of this, or not having heard it. “Someone asked who you’d love to work with on a next season.”

“Actor wise, I want to do scenes with Cheyenne Jackson,” Madison replies, “I didn’t get to do any scenes with him this season, but he’s really talented and I’d love to work with him. And I also have a writer that would be really great to work with on our show and that’s Y/N Y/L/N. She worked on Outer Banks and Umbrella Academy, and I loved the episodes she wrote.” Charlie’s face at the mention of your name is priceless. His eyes widen first before his mouth curled up into a smile, though he tried to hide it from his castmates and the interviewer. 

Madison and Owen glanced into the camera knowingly but decided not to say anything and continue with the interview. It’s when that interview was done, Madi, Owen and Jeremy called Charlie in a group FaceTime.

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?!” You heard Madison scream from Charlie’s phone as he walked into the living room where you were working. He gave you a questioning look, as if asking for permission to tell them. You simply nodded encouragingly.

“Yes, okay, fine! You figured it out!” The three on the other side of the line cheered loudly, making you chuckle slightly. “You want to meet the cast, Babe?” he asked you whilst making his way over. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down, and he obeyed, showing you the screen of his phone.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted with a wave. A chorus of ‘hi’ and ‘hey’ meets your ears. “How’d you figure it out?” You asked them, placing your laptop on the coffee table to get more comfortable. You tucked your feet underneath you, placing your elbow on the back of the couch and gliding your fingers into Charlie’s long, lockdown-hair.

“First of all, I follow you on Instagram, Y/N, and I saw the two of you tagged the same location on the same day once, and your last pictures kind of look similar. So, I had a bit of a hunch, but I wasn’t sure, and when I mentioned you in the interview, he got all flustery and happy and I just knew!” You gave the girl an impressed nod.

“We literally just hung up on the interviewer when Madi texted us ‘IT’S Y/N!!’ in all caps,” Jeremy added with a smile. Defeated, and a little embarrassed, Charlie groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort.

“We won’t tell anyone, Char. We’re just happy for you,” says Owen with a smile, “And us, because now Madi won’t be texting us non-stop with all her theories on who your quarantine partner is.” All of you chuckled a that, except for Madison, she glared at her blonde-haired friend through the screen.

“You all wanted to know!” she snarled.

All of you chatted for a couple hours until Charlie and you got hungry and decided to prepare dinner.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N! Hopefully we’ll see each other soon IRL!” Madison said with the biggest smile on her face.

“It was nice to meet you too, guys! Ooh, by the way! I loved the show!” you complimented.

“Of course you did,” said Owen with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Bye guys!” you waved at them, completely ignoring Owen’s statement. Charlie hung up the phone and put his phone on the coffee table before turning to you. “Madison would be a good detective,” you pointed out with a grin. Charlie glared at you, which just made you giggle and kiss his lips. At least now you didn’t need to keep it a secret from his friends. Almost like a weight off your shoulders.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​

[multific]

Plan a Wedding

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: When you are asked by your best friend to help her plan her wedding, you don't know what to do, you want to help her, but have the biggest crush on the groom's best man, who also helps with the planning.

When your best friend, Kate, asked you to not only be her maid of honor but help her with the planning of her wedding, you of course said yes, without even thinking twice.

It took you about four hours before you realized what that truly meant.

It meant that you will spend a lot more time with Chris. The man you had the biggest crush on since he was introduced to you and the best part, Kate knew exactly how you felt.

So, now here you were in a florist shop, pretending that you were not blushing furiously as you tried to hide behind every bouquet. 

You took a deep breath and focused on Kate instead. She was looking at at least five different bouquets and table decorations when you stepped in to help her.

"Which are the ones you do not like?" you asked.

"Hmm...The yellow ones wouldn't fit with the theme. But I don't want there to be too much white, so they might work."

"Alright, Then how about the pink ones? You want pastel colors, those are too dark. Let's get those off the table then." The florist helped you and now there were only two bouquets and two smaller decorations to chose from. 

"Which ones do you like more?" she asked turning to you.

"It's not my wedding, but the place you rented for the wedding has a dark wood interior. I think the green would make it too cold. But if you use the yellow with the light pink, it could bring that spring feeling you want."

She nodded. You didn't even notice Chris and the groom, Sebastian, arriving at your side.

"I like the one Y/N said." Seb helped and Kate finally picked one. They gave the order to the shop assistant and then you moved on.

The next stop was the bakery. 

Honestly, you weren't sure which couple asked other people regarding their cake, but you didn't mind it, you liked cakes.

And as the slices kept on coming, your eyes kept on shining. You only got out of the trance when Chris laughed a little.

"You really do like cake," he noted when Seb and Kate were too busy.

"I do, yes," you never really talked with him, you were afraid he might think you don't like him or something, but it was the exact opposite.

"Thank you for helping her pick flowers. I thought we will die in that store she kept on looking and going back and forth."

"She has a hard time saying out loud that she doesn't like something. She thinks it rude, but you will see, I bet she will have a harder time here."

You gave Chris a look and he smiled, both of you turned back to see Seb eating cake and Kate thinking rather hard.

"How many layers will it be?" you asked and tried to help.

"Three," Seb answered.

"Alright. I would say the biggest layer should be something like vanilla and chocolate. It's a safe choice and everyone likes it. Then you can have something fancy which tastes nice like the dark forest one. Then you can have something like red velvet or chocolate only," both of them nodded, understanding your point.

"I quite liked the pistachio one." Chris said, "It's light and nice, I think everyone will enjoy it. I agree with the bottom two layers, those are very popular flavors." 

"Then we will have vanilla and chocolate then black forest and finally, pistachio." Both bride and groom agreed and you were out of the shop quicker than you thought. Now the four of you are headed to have some lunch. 

You and Chris sat at a table as Seb and Kate went to use the toilets.

"What are you planning for her bachelorette party?" Chris suddenly asked.

"Oh, yes, so the idea was that we go to a bar, play some small games. I wanted to get a dancer for her, but nothing too wild or anything." 

"Good, I was planning a striptease bar but then I remembered his brother would freak out so most likely we will go to a bar or have some drinks at my place."

"Sounds good to me," you smiled at him and the pair arrived back. You all ate some pizza before heading to the next place.

Your day went on like that. Going from one place to another. You ended up offering to make the invitations yourself since the place wanted to charge a lot more for them than they should have. Chris offered to help

***

Kate sent you a template of what she would like for her invites to look like. You bought everything you will ever need and more.

You made the text itself digitally then printed it out. Now, they needed to be put together, so Chris was coming over to yours to help. 

Just as you finished preparing everything, your doorbell rang.

"Sorry, I'm late, traffic, but I brought the things you asked, I have an amazing scissor that cuts paper like a dream," he said as soon as you opened the door.

"Hi. It's okay, you are just in time,"

You let him in and the tedious procedure of preparing hundred and fifty invitations began. 

You were about halfway done when you felt your back start to hurt.

"I will make some lemonade for myself, would you like to have some?"

"Sounds good thank you, I started to feel like my eyes will melt." he laughed and moved to the kitchen with you. "So, you have a dancer for Kate, does she know?"

"Oh, no it will be a surprise all of the girls know about him, would you believe that her mother was the most excited?" you poured some ice into the cup and moved to the living room to sit on the couch. "Why are you asking?"

"Just interested, I didn't tell it to Seb or anything."

"Good, I'm so happy for them."

"Me too. But they are both can't decide on the simplest things."

"Really? Would you be better?"

"Oh, please I have my whole wedding planned in my head, flowers and all."

"Says the guy who is still single."

He laughed. "I even know who I want to marry."

This almost made you choke on your lemonade. You felt a bit jealous but didn’t ask any questions. 

"I always thought you didn't like me. I know I can be loud and annoying even, I laugh loudly which I know some women don't like. But when you accepted for me to help you today, I thought there is hope."

"I like you, Chris. A lot actually, and I like your laugh. It's loud but it gives me a smile."

You didn't notice how close he got to you only when he lifted your chin up. He waited for you to pull away but you didn't.

"All I could think about last week was you. I pretended it's our wedding you are picking flowers for and our cake you are tasting. Call me a creep, Y/N, but I am in love with you. I have been for a long time now."

"You are not a creep. And I think I am in love with you as we-" he didn't let you finish as his lips met yours in a soft kiss. 

You dreamed of this moment for so long and now that it was here, you felt like you could faint. You couldn't believe this is actually happening, but it was.

***

"So, you finished with the cards, can we send them out?"

"Ooh, we got halfway done with it yesterday. I promise for tomorrow I will have all." 

You and Kate agreed to have breakfast the next morning. She squinted her eyes and looked at you, then as if lightning struck her eyes opened wide.

"Oh My God, Y/N you and Chris had se-"

"Shhh!" you put your hand against her lips, stopping her. "Don't yell, please." "Finally! I was waiting for you to get together for two years now!"

"Yes, so it's not a thing."

"Great! So tell me everything! How it happened, when it happened, and where? Hope not on my invitations!" he lifted her cup to her lips and you just knew this will be a long day.

But you were happy, extremely happy now that you and Chris were together.

As you told Kate the story of last night, your phone notified you that Chris wrote you a text. 

You will never forget the smirk on Kate's face as she made more sexual jokes, she will never let you live this down. 

Part 2

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart v-2bucky ehsebastian crunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmiler smexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

 ~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

 My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank You for reading my story!~

[samwilsonshandsandass]

Don’t decline too many times

Pairing: soft!dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: The local gang leader is always nice to you. But is there an ulterior motive behind it all for his niceness?

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (voluntarily), asks about pregnancy, abduction

Word count: about 3000

A/N: This is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18​ Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. A big congrats on your milestone and thank you for hosting this challenge, I enjoyed writing for it! I chose general prompt number 5 (“The leader of the local gang doesn’t like it when you tell them no.”) for this. The dividers are made by the awesome @firefly-graphics​

You sat at the bar, a small bowl with olives and peanuts in front of you. You had asked for a caipirinha and shortly after if the bartender, a female redhead, could get you some snacks. She said she could, but she also cautiously probed if you were pregnant. No, you weren’t.

“Well then, I can offer you olives and peanuts.”

You nodded, and now the quite unusual combination of a fruity and sweet drink and olives and peanuts found a home in you. You had your elbows propped up on the bar, back straight and eyes on the bar top. The bowls with the snacks were gone quicker than the drink and the bartender kept both coming. Eating way quicker than drinking helped with that, apparently.

You didn’t know what number drink you were on when you were approached the first time that evening. Although night would be a better term.

“Miss? I- uh- I’d wanted to ask-“ The guy who now sat on the stool next to you stumbled over his words, but not because of alcohol in his system. He didn’t slur, he talked normally.

You saw a tattooed hand clasp the guys’ shoulder. “I don’t think you’re in the right place, buddy. Leave the lady alone.”

“Why would I-“ The guy turned to look at whoever had his hand on his shoulder. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr.-“

“Yeah, yeah, I imagine you are. But you’ll be even more sorry if you don’t move now” The other growled and the guy got up so quickly, he almost face planted away from the bar.

“Uhm, thank you? You know, you didn’t have to, he wasn’t bothering me. I could’ve dealt with him” You said to the brown-haired man.

“I know. But this isn’t what this is about.”

“Then what is ‘this’ about?” You were a little irritated.

“You’ll see. Enjoy your night, miss” He gave a small salute and went back into the crowd. You tried looking where he went but quickly lost him, although the bar wasn’t as packed as it could be.

Steve looked over the bar patrons from the mezzanine level of the bar, that housed his private booth that could be seen, and was supposed to be seen, from below but no one ever found the staircase until they were explicitly shown where it was.

His night was going nice, no big problems in the last days, the bar was filled and his new favorite person had just walked in. Alone. She made a beeline for the bar and after a short conversation, got what she wanted from Natasha. She didn’t move much throughout the night and he was happy to just watch her.

Steve sipped on his own drink. He wondered what she drank. He’d have to ask Natasha for that. He took another sip and swallowed harshly. Someone sat next to what would be his. Normally, he’d be lenient with that, especially if the bar was packed almost too full but for one thing, it wasn’t. Secondly, you didn’t seem to want any company tonight. Just to be left alone and drink.

“Buck?” Steve looked up.

“On it.”

A few days later, you were out grocery shopping after work. It had been a long day, full of demands you couldn’t meet or weren’t even supposed to fulfill because they didn’t fall into your department. And right as you could finally leave for the day, your boyfriend Chad had called to let you know he came home to an empty fridge and if you couldn’t pick up some fresh vegetables. But only from that one organic store. And only the freshest produce of the freshest.

How were you supposed to get literal farm-to-table produce when the delivery truck for that particular store only came twice a week and only ever in the morning? You asked and just got an exasperated sigh from Chad. So here you were, paying for the groceries and leaving the store.

You stepped out of the store and almost collided with someone. The person just kept on walking, apparently not even noticing how you wobbled and the bags in your hands almost slipped out of your grasp. Just as you thought everything would tumble and you’d have wasted that money, you felt hands on your elbows, steadying you.

“I got you, don’t worry.”

You didn’t recognize the voice. You turned around and did a double take. You looked up at Steve Rogers, the leader of the city’s gang, just known as “The Commando”.

“Th- thank you. It wouldn’t have been good if I had spilled all this.”

“What would you have spilled?”

“Fresh vegetables for tonight’s dinner.”

“All that just for you?” Steve seemed genuinely curious and confused.

“Oh no. For me and my boyfriend, Chad.”

Steve took the bags from your hands without asking. “Mind if I walk you home? It’s late and these bags look really heavy and that’s not even touching your normal bag.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, I’m offering.”

“Thank you, but it’s not far, it really isn’t necessary” You declined.

“Alright, well have a nice evening, miss” Steve raised his fingertips to his non-existent hat.

“You too, thanks.”

Several weeks later, you laid on the couch with Chad with some mindless trash tv show playing in the background. He had his arm around you. You looked at him. He didn’t look back at you, but maybe he was just captivated by watching something that didn’t require much thinking after a long work day. Well, you wanted to do something that also didn’t require much thinking. You started kissing up and down his neck until he turned his head.

“What are you doing Y/N?”

“What does it look like?” You grinned.

“I’m too tired right now. Tomorrow?” Chad groaned.

You removed yourself from him and sat up again. “You’ve said that for weeks now! I also have needs and I don’t want to use my vibrator all the time. I want you.”

“Well, I can’t change how tired I am!” He raised his voice, despite or because of his tiredness, you didn’t know.

Shortly after, you went to bed. Unsatisfied and feeling like you had been shunned.

Just a few days later, you were frantically searching for a clean and decent shirt you could wear to work. You really couldn’t show up to work in a graphic tee shirt.

“Chad, where are my clean shirts?” You yelled through the appartement.

“In your wardrobe?! Like always?” He yelled back.

“No, they aren’t! Didn’t you do the laundry?”

“No, why would I?”

“Because it was your turn!”

“Well, I forgot. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, always sorry” You grumbled so he couldn’t hear and pulled a unicolor long sleeve shirt from the wardrobe. That would have to do.

It was a Saturday and you were in the mall, trying on clothes, maybe you’d buy some shoes. You wanted to treat yourself. Chad was gone for the weekend and you’d had a stressful week at work. You had found so many things you were packed with two or three bags in each hand plus your handbag over your shoulder. This had been an extensive haul and you couldn’t be more happy about your new treasures.

You carried several bags to the entrance to then get on home when you saw the revolving door wasn’t working. You groaned. Awesome. When you entered the mall, they had still worked and of course, today had to be the time you also bought something voluminous that you couldn’t just transfer from one hand to the other to open the door that was still working. While you thought about setting half the bags down and just walking twice or holding the door open with your foot, someone from behind you reached around you and opened it for you.

“Oh. Thank you!” You turned around and saw a familiar face. Steve Rogers.

“You’re welcome.”

He tipped his imaginary hat when you and all your bags were through the door. You turned and could see him still hold open the door with an older lady thanking the “Young man” and walking off.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” He offered.

“No, thanks I got it from here.”

Steve tipped his “hat” again and said his goodbye when you went in the direction of the parking lot.

You had reservations at a nice Mexican restaurant with Chad for this Friday evening. There was nothing to celebrate, you had just agreed to go out again, because you could. You were excited for it, an evening with good food, talking, no needing to take care of anything except getting home and a nice evening and then a lazy weekend until the work week started again. Now it was Thursday.

“Chad? Friday is still happening?” You sat at the breakfast table and Chad poured himself a coffee.

“Yeah. Work shouldn’t keep me longer than expected.”

“Alright, we’ll just meet at the restaurant, then.”

Friday came, work went down without any incident and you went straight to the restaurant. Granted, you were a little early, but you’d rather be early than late, which would have been the case if you had gone home beforehand.

“Excuse me? I have a reservation for Y/L/N, for two people. I know I’m a little early, but I thought maybe…” You trailed off.

“My colleague will show you to your table, you can already take a seat and wait for your company. I’ll send them over once they arrive” The receptionist said.

“Thank you” You smiled and followed her colleague.

At the table, you texted your boyfriend. Just a simple “I’m here a little early.” After the waiter brought a water, your phone still didn’t ping with a text. Twenty minutes later, you sent a second text. “Hey, you coming? Our reservation is for this time.” Now would’ve been the time your table was reserved for. No answer. 15 minutes and another text later, there still was no answer.

“Miss, do you want to order an appetizer or wait for your company?”

“I’ll wait for him, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course.”

Thirty minutes, another text and another visit from your waiter later, there still was no sign of Chad. Just as you felt tears of rage pricking your eyes, your waiter set a dish of panna cotta with fruits on the side in front of you.

“On the house.”

You smiled gratefully. At least panna cotta would soothe some of the rage you felt.

At home, there was no sign of Chad. You went to bed alone, feeling a storm of different emotions ranging from anger to sadness.

You woke to clanging in the hallway. It sounded like a person stumbling, trying to get back up and failing. That could only be Chad. Especially at this hour. You remembered once, pretty early on in your relationship how he had stumbled in just like this after a night out with his boys when you didn’t want to come with. You had helped him sober up and then you both had spent a nice day in with Chad nursing his hangover.

But this was different. This was your boyfriend, first blatantly ignoring or forgetting your date night (you didn’t know which would be worse), no matter if it went along with a special date or not, and now he didn’t even hide what he had been doing instead.

“Hey babe? Can you- can you help me?” He slurred.

And in that moment, you snapped. Still sitting in bed. You couldn’t do this anymore.

In the hallway, you saw Chad entangled in your and his winter coat. However he managed that.

“No. No, I will not do that” You crossed your arms and looked down at him. “I’m done. This is the last straw.”

“What happened babe?” The confusion was evident on Chad’s face but you couldn’t see if it was from the hangover or just general confusion. And either way, you didn’t care.

“Several things. Over quite some time. But this, this takes the cake. We had a date. We wanted to meet after work at this restaurant we’ve talked about. And you didn’t show up! You didn’t answer any of my texts! It got so bad, the staff there gave me a free dessert! It was humiliating! And don’t you dare tell me you lost your phone; you’re glued to it!” You shook from your anger.

“But you got free dessert!”

How could anyone miss the point so badly? You wondered.

“Go. Go and only come back to get your stuff. Otherwise, just leave me alone.”

You threw on clothes quickly, grabbed your keys, bag and purse and left. Down on the street, you just started to wander around aimlessly. You ducked into a bakery for a to-go breakfast and coffee, you went to the park, to a hole in the wall pizza joint for lunch, just meandering through the city.

Now it was evening. You looked up to actually see where you were and were surprised to see you had walked all the way from the park you had been in during the afternoon to the bar of the city’s main gang.

You remembered all kinds of rumors and stories about the gang, sometimes just about one or two members, even if the story didn’t tie directly in with the gang. But no matter the stories or rumors, they all boiled down to “They’re dangerous, stay away from them and their localities!”.

But the first time you had been in the bar, everything was nice, it had seemed cozy and like you were welcomed even if no one knew you. Hell, the bar lady had asked you if you were pregnant, like she wanted to protect you! And Steve, the actual leader of the gang, had been nothing but nice to you. Offering to help you and still not inserting himself forcefully into situations when you said no.

You entered and looked around. For a bar, it was pretty early and you only saw a few patrons. You went to take a seat at the bar again and greeted the red head with a smile. She smiled back and continued cleaning the glasses. A while later, she got to you.

“Caipirinha, olives and peanuts again? Still not pregnant?”

“Yes and no. And how do you remember what I ordered? That was weeks ago!”

“I’m a barkeeper. Simple as that” She smiled.

“Uh, could you keep them coming? At least for a while?”

“Something happened?”

“I broke up with my boyfriend today. Then wandered around and now I’m here” You shrugged.

“Alright. But I reserve the right to cut you off when I think you had enough.”

“Okay. But you won’t cut off the olives and peanuts?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Yes, I’ll keep giving you food.”

You smiled for the first time today. “Deal.”

The rest of the evening went by in a more or less haze of snacks, alcohol and the mix of hurt at your ended relationship but also the rage when you thought of what kind of behaviors of Chad made you end it all.

The barkeeper didn’t cut you off, which probably was related to you basically inhaling olives and peanuts. Hours later, you paid, slipped the redhead a big tip and a big smile and made to get home.

Almost right at the exit, you were stopped when you felt a hand on your elbow. You turned your head to tell whoever touched you off, but slight confusion furrowed your brows. Wasn’t that the guy from when you had been here weeks ago who kept that other guy from (probably) asking you out?

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, you can. Indirectly at least.”

“What?”

“I’m here to ask you if you’d like to come with me to up there” He nodded his head to the mezzanine level. “to meet someone.” He emphasized the ‘someone’ in a way that made it clear that ‘someone’ was special. In one way or another.

“Why would I?”

“To experience something, you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“No, thank you” You weren’t in the mood for something new. You wanted to mourn and rage at what you left behind and burrow yourself under blankets with pints of ice cream at home.

“Alright. Have a good evening, miss” He tipped his head and went off into the direction of, supposedly, the stairs to the mezzanine level.

You went home. You were surprised to see Chad had actually gotten his stuff out of your appartement. At least one pleasant thing had come out of the morning, in a twisted way. In the living room, you did exactly what you wanted to do. Eating all the ice cream you had in the freezer and basically becoming a blanket burrito.

When you woke, you felt blankets around you and a softly pulsing headache behind your forehead. You opened your eyes and blinked. And blinked. You turned your head. And blinked again. Slowly realization trickled in. Something wasn’t right. You weren’t where you were when you’d went to sleep.

Whatever you laid on was soft and big. You could turn your whole body and roll around. You could move and you could orientate yourself in your body. You looked down and saw you were still in the clothes you had worn to the bar. Right, you didn’t put on pajamas before going to sleep.

Just as you sat up on the bed, you heard a door open. You turned your head and couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Steve?!”

“Just the one.”

“Why?”

“I just want to take care of you. Is that so hard to understand?”

[hunflowers]

okay inspired by dwd suit wearing harry :) enjoy *nose boops*

You haven’t seen Harry in a couple months now. At least not physically, what with guidelines for his new movie and the restrictions of quarantine in general.

Whenever his name does pop up on your phone you can’t hide the smile that breaks out onto your face, especially when it’s a facetime call so you can see him in real time. This day however was a little different. He texted you bright and early -- at least for him because of the time difference -- saying he won’t be able to talk much because a busy day lies ahead of him. A frown nestled into your features at the misfortune, but you replied back with understanding.

Whenever his name does pop up on your phone you can’t hide the smile that breaks out onto your face, especially when it’s a facetime call so you can see him in real time. This day however was a little different. He texted you bright and early -- at least for him because of the time difference -- saying he won’t be able to talk much because a busy day lies ahead of him. A frown nestled into your features at the misfortune, but you replied back with understanding.

It came as a surprise a couple hours later though, when he texted you a picture of himself in a full body mirror, adorned in a caribbean blue suit and a matching striped tie, with the message of Do you like it?

Your mouth dropped at the sight, and you’re pretty sure a bit of saliva slipped past your lips too. His hair was parted in meticulous manner that truly gave him the proper 50s vibe, and his clean shaven face was the true cherry on top that had your heart beating in your chest. You wanted to pull him close, preferably by the tie around his neck, and plaster lipstick stains across his jaw while carding your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you rocked your hips together.

You had to close your legs at the wormhole your brain was going into, biting your lip into your mouth as you wished he were next to you. I like it a lot :(

Why the sad face?

Because I want to rip it off of you.

You giggled as you saw the daunting three dots appear then disappear a few times, before he replied with a quick Don’t start. He’s at work, so it’s selfish to rile him up especially when it seems he’s about to shoot his next scene, but you couldn’t stop the wink face you sent back along with:

Can’t stop thinking of me on my knees for you. 

Wouldn’t you like that? 

Unbuttoning your pants and pulling the zipper down with my teeth just like you taught? Leaving the whole suit on as you fuck my mouth? 

Hearing me gagging for you, choking on you as I feel you down my throat.

As much as you think you’re making him suffer, you’ve punished yourself just as badly. You were mindlessly watching your current TV fixation, sipping on a glass of wine, but now all you could think about was him and how he wasn’t by your side to help you out. 

When Harry hadn’t responded for a couple minutes, you had half the mind to shove your hand in your panties and finish the job, and you were about to do it too, but you heard the familiar text tone. You pulled your phone close to you and read his daring message, causing you to bite your lip back into your mouth. 

We’ll finish this later.

But then about an hour or so later you got another text from him, this time a picture of him in a brown suit with another tie to match. He said nothing aside from a teasing smiley face, because he knew the game he was playing. The brown one brought out the color of his eyes more, making you ogle just a little harder than the first, and making you crave him even more.

So, you got up from your spot on the couch and marched up to your room to find something to send back. You searched high and low for something worth your time until you finally found a time-piece. A light blue, see-through babydoll dress that you hadn’t worn since your first anniversary together. It came with a matching light blue thong and lace collar piece that you remember Harry practically frothing over the sight.

You quickly changed into it, and pulled your hair back before stepping closer to the full-length mirror in your closet. You angled yourself in a desirable way, and even brought your free hand’s thumb up to your mouth and nibbled on the tip of it as you snapped the picture. Satisfied with the photo on the fourth try, you sent it with a taunting caption of a typed heart.

He opened your message almost instantaneously, but had left you on read which caused your heart to sink a bit in your chest. But, you attributed it to him being called to set and picked your chin up and waltzed back downstairs in your new attire. You picked up your wine glass and continued with your show, simply waiting.

As time ticked on and your body grew sleepier, you were tempted to call it a night and text him saying you would continue this — whatever this is — tomorrow. But you kept your determination, because you missed your boyfriend and even if he couldn’t touch you, you knew he was going to make you cum. And besides, just when you started doubting him, that’s when he decided to ring you.

You picked up the phone giddily, the connecting ... under his name taunting you before his beautiful face popped up on your screen. You were ready to chirp a greeting at him, excited to talk to him after a long day but he was quicker to the punch.

“Y/N... y’had to send that while I’m working, did ya? Fuck, babe, do you understand how difficult it was to focus on set with that at the back of m’mind?” He ran his ring-less fingers through his shorter hair, and you noticed he was back in his hotel room. That’s a good thing, you thought, now you had no restrictions.

You pouted at him mockingly, “Oh no, you poor thing.”

He blinked at you once, then twice, before stating, “Get up. Let me see you.”

Because you were still downstairs, you trekked back up to your room, going over to the original mirror you took the photo in before flipping the camera around and showcasing yourself. You toyed with the hem of the dress, picking it a bit to give him a better viewing of your panties, to which he groaned in response.

“I’ve missed that little number. Remember the night you wore it? Could hardly walk for days after.”

You let out a breath at the thought, bringing your hand down and slightly grazing your throbbing clit for him to see, just at the mere thought.

He continued, “But that’s why you put it on isn’t it? Because you know it’s my favorite and I’m not there to put my hands on you. You wanted to get back at me for the pictures I sent — which, hardly even compare.”

You nodded your head in response, flipping the camera back around to face you as you stepped out of the closet and onto your bed. “Want you to miss me just as much as I miss you.”

“Oh, baby.... Words can’t describe how much I miss you. Look, I’ll show you how much I miss you,” and then the next thing you know, is he’s flipping the camera around and showing you his very hard cock.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, your free hand dipping into your baby blue thong and swiping your dripping folds and circling your wetness across your clit. “Show me how much you miss me too.”

You flipped your camera back around, letting him see your fingers slowly working your clit, hidden beneath the fabric of your panties. He groaned, telling you to give him a closer look, so — as comfortably as you could — you pushed your thong to the side and angled your phone so he had a better view of your soaked pussy.

“Shit Y/N– Push two fingers inside, imagine it’s me doing it,” he told, and you could see his fist beginning to pump his cock at a faster rate, him most likely imagining your smaller hand stroking him just like you usually do. You listened to him, inserting your ring and middle finger inside your wet hole, while keeping the heel of your palm pressed against your sensitive bud.

“Baby... I need you so bad,” you whined, softly hitting your front wall as you curled your fingers, before fastening your movements — like you know he would.

You watched him spread his precum around his shaft, paying extra attention to his tip before he thrusted his hips up into hand. “Ugh- I know baby, I need you too. Just a little while longer. Fuck yourself for me, y’can do that can’t you?”

You hummed back, picking up the pace of your hand, going the extra mile and pushing a third finger inside, causing you to screw your eyes shut in ecstasy.

“Wish it was you fucking me right now. Your big cock inside my tight pussy - shit - you fill me so good.”

You heard him groan at your words, mumbling a quiet ‘keep going,’ because he’s always been a fan of your dirty talk.

“Want your hand around my throat... squeezing me as I squeeze you. Wish you were hitting the spot only you could reach. God, want to feel me stretched around you, leaving me sore for days after you’re done. Do you want that too?” You felt the heat in the pit of your belly begin to stir, your palm pressing harder against your sensitivity.

“Could imagine your face pressed into the mattress as I take you from behind. Your tits in my hands — I miss them. Want m’mouth sucking on you... can’t cum yet, don’t even think about it, Y/N.”

You whined at the restriction, feeling your impending high reaching you. So, you helped him to his quicker. “H, H, H... miss having my lips around you. Love when you mess up my lipstick and it’s smeared all around you, mixed with saliva and cum. Never forget about your balls either, I kiss ‘em and suck on them, give them just the right amount of attention. Know you love when I press my finger into you too, hearing you moan until you’re coming down my throat.”

Back and forth for a few moments all you both could do was moan, wishing the other were by your side as you sent yourself into euphoric oblivion.

“Can I cum now? Please, please,” you begged, rubbing fast circles on your clit.

“So close, babe, so – holy fuck — so close,” he murmured, twisting his wrist and keeping more of his focus on the base of dick now. “G’na cum with me?”

You whispered a ‘yes’ in response, your thighs beginning to shake as your toes curled into the bed sheets. Within seconds, hot lava coursed through your body as flashes of white danced across your eyes, you back arching off the mattress. You could hear Harry hitting his climax, your eyes opening quickly to watch him spray his orgasm all over his fist and stomach. 

You nestled your head into your pillow as you brought the phone back up to your face, your eyes falling close as you let your body relax. Harry turned the camera back to him, getting up from his position to wash himself. You would get up eventually too, but you just laid and calmed yourself in the mean time as you watched him.

“Miss you,” you mumbled, tears threatening to break past your waterline as you wished you could snuggle up to him.

He looked at you, his mouth forming into a pout as you could hear the sink water running from the bathroom. “I know. Just a few more weeks and I’ll be home.”

[psychadelickate]

House MD - House: ... or Not

Title: ...or Not Word Count:  1 278 Fandom: House MD Pairing: House x Reader Rating: Teen Gif: Not Mine Requested: Anonymous Prompt: Reader telling House she can’t do this anymore A/N: this was written in a span of 45 minutes, so I apologise in advance if it’s not good. Hope you enjoy reading anyway

It’s almost midnight when you finally get home. You take off your boots and coat and hang it in the mudroom before entering your home. The plush carpet feels like heaven on your feet after a day in three-inched stiletto heeled boots. You frown slightly when you hear soft music playing through the speakers in your home. You don’t remember leaving them on when you left for work that morning. Walking deeper into your home, you’re surprised when you stumble upon one Dr Gregory House fast asleep on the couch in your living room. This gives you pause. There’s no reason this man should be in your home, and yet here he is. Cameron had texted you earlier that evening asking you if you knew where House was since he hadn’t joined the team for dinner, and you’d admitted you had no idea. You’d made previous plans and you couldn’t cancel last minute. Honestly, you could have, but you had no intention of leading Dennis on any further. You knew this wasn’t going to work and you had no desire to pursue it any further and so you’d gone to dinner with Dennis to let him know you wouldn’t be seeing him anymore. Turned out, Dennis had plans to break-up with you as well. His reasoning though, was that he thought you and House have some unresolved feelings for each other. He didn’t want to fight for your attention knowing he was going to lose…

You have half a mind to wake him up and tell him to go home, but you don’t. Instead, you decide to let him know your spare room is available, because sleeping on your couch is going to be murder on his leg.

 His eyes open before your hand makes contact with his shoulder and his gaze pins yours. It takes a little effort, but he pulls himself to a seated position before talking. “How was your date?” he asks. “House,” if he picks up on your exasperated tone, he doesn’t verbally acknowledge it. “Too clingy? Too boring? Not manly enough for you?” House asks and it only annoys your further, but you really don’t have the energy to get into it with this man right now. “It was fine,” you reply hoping that will appease him.

It doesn’t. “If it was fine, why did you come home alone? It’s way past the third date already. A little bird – named Cameron - said you’re seeing this guy for three months already and you still haven’t sealed the deal.” “Cameron needs to mind her own business,” you snap. “(Y/N),” he uses that tone and just like that, the conversation changes from joking and flirting to serious. You hate when he says your name like that, because there’s no way you’d deny him anything he’d ask of you. Needing a bit of physical distance from him, you start walking toward your bedroom. Sensing this, House is quicker on his feet than you’d expected him to be and he follows your footsteps. He, however, stops at your door, not entering your personal space, instead, just leaning against the doorframe. Your heart skips at beat at the sight before you and you hope he can’t see the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks. “You didn’t answer my question.” “I didn’t hear a question,” you reply. “When’s the next date?” House asks you, though you don’t answer this question either. Not because you don’t want to tell him, but because there’s not going to be another date. You’re done trying, sure the timing is right, but there’s just no chemistry with the two of you. You’d been more excited to watch paint dry than go another date with him. “House, it’s late and I’m tired. The guest room is made up if you want to use it, or you can leave. It’s up to you. But this conversation is over,” you inform him as you turn down the sheets on your bed. He doesn’t move from his leaning stance against the doorframe, examining you. A minute passes… Then two… And just when you think it’s over, he steps into your bedroom. Just one step, but it’s monumental for the both of you. Yes, House has been in your home before, but never as far as your bedroom. There’d been no reason for his presence in it. “There isn’t going to be another date, is there?” he asks you. Your gaze snaps up to meet his. He doesn’t need you to vocalise your answer, you’re pretty sure he can see it written on your expression. House takes another step closer to you. “What was his excuse? You’re too good for him? He insecure about your job? The fact that you earn more than him?” Does he really want to have this conversation right now? “House, let it go. It’s over. Doesn’t matter what the reasoning was,” you tell him, but the man is nothing if not persistent. “Of course, it matters! Why wouldn’t it?” he’s incredulous at your response. “Come on (Y/N).” “Fine if you really want to know, we ended it because he thought you and I have unresolved feelings for each other!” You wait for House to dismiss the statement or at least have a sarcastic reply to it, but he remains silent, gaze still pinned on yours. It only lasts a minute and then he gets his bearings back and you know he’s going to deflect. “I don’t know what gave him that idea. We work together and that’s it. It’s just dinner on a Friday night, with the rest of my team!” And that finally triggers your anger. “Yes, because having dinner out once a week is a standard between friends, even though we’re still there long after everyone else have gone home. You crashing my dates doesn’t mean anything to you, it’s just a thing you do to pass time and entertain yourself. Scaring away potential people who are interested in dating me is a service you provide – free of charge!” your voice is rising with every word as you step closer to him. “You don’t want me, House and yet you don’t want anyone else to have me,” you poke a finger into his chest as soon as he’s within touching distance. This is new for both of you. You’d never been tactile with him, not sure how he would react to your touch, but you can’t help yourself at this moment. “You need to decide House, because this,” you wave a finger in the air “needs to stop. Now, I think you should go home.” You turn to leave but House catches your wrist, his long fingers banding gently around it, and pulls you to him. It’s not the best of movements, but he stands steady as you bump into him, coming chest to chest with the man. “Yeah, because I really would’ve wasted my time going on dinner dates with you if I didn’t find you interesting or if I didn’t like you. And I wasn’t scaring away potential dates, I was checking if they were worthy enough. Though the one thing I will admit to is I did like crashing your dates, seeing their shock and dismay at the fact that you aren’t available…” he continues. “Just what do you mean by – ?” your sentence is cut short when you feel House’s mouth fuse to yours, his lips gliding over yours, kissing you with all he’s got, stealing your breath. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for not ‘officially’ asking me out,” you say but he could care less and pulls you in for another heated kiss.

if you’d like to be tagged, let me know tag list: @kyky9103​ @diaryofafan17​ @wefracturedmotivation​ @yeetmetohim @manicmarsupial​ @cameronmonaghantrashaf​ @kettnerjanea​ @graycrackle @andreasworlsboring101​ Masterlist here  Scroll down for House

[bruhstories]

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

[tomhardysteeth]

Use Your Imagination

[ao3]

2.9k Eddie Brock/Venom Based entirely on the Venom: Let There Be Carnage trailer

Eddie woke up to the feel of his body tugging indiscriminately out from his back. He sighed and reached behind himself, easily finding a tentacle and tickling it until it retreated back inside him.

Wake up, Eddie, Venom said cheerily, running a slimy three-pronged tendril across his face delicately. We’re hungry.

“Ugh, can’t you just bring me something in here?” Eddie replied grumpily, burying his face in his pillow.

No. Venom took control of his legs and lifted him up and onto the floor, and Eddie momentarily lost his balance before a tentacle righted him.

Eddie groaned and stretched his back, cracking it. He headed to the bathroom and took a piss while a tentacle brushed his teeth.

He was exhausted, because he and Venom had finally tracked down all the guys harassing Mrs. Chen and had spent half the night running—literally running—them down. But Venom was even more chaotically energetic than usual because it had gotten to eat three people.

And Eddie couldn’t drink caffeine anymore—Venom hated it—so he was resigned to his orange juice and to spending the entirety of the morning just trying to wake up. 

“Babe, what the hell are you making?” Eddie asked as his body shifted minutely with the extension of several tentacles all over the kitchen. 

Breakfast, Venom replied as it knocked several things out of the fridge and onto the floor.

“You can’t possibly be hungry.”

No, but you are. 

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how their digestive systems worked, but he knew his body didn't even notice when they ate people, and his appetite was completely different than it used to be and also completely different from humans in general. He had to eat big, disgusting meals at least three times a day, and despite Venom assuring him that they both needed the sustenance to survive, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that he had gained weight.

Not that he could get on a scale. He broke his bathroom scale when he tried, presumably because a massively dense alien inhabited his body. That being said, his belly stuck out farther than it used to and his jeans were too tight.

Venom was making a mess and singing along (terribly) to the radio, so Eddie took a seat at the kitchen table and tried to dig his phone out of the pocket of his robe with his hand, but a tentacle got to it first and handed it to him.

He scrolled for a few minutes, ignoring the crashing sounds and the fire that he could see in his peripheral vision. Venom would clean it all up eventually, so it was fine. 

“Don’t forget to feed the chickens,” Eddie said distractedly, still looking at his phone.

Don’t forget to feed the chickens, Venom mocked in a nagging voice. 

They always had a few chickens in their apartment that Eddie got from a local farmer so Venom could eat live meat whenever it needed it. Except for the one chicken Venom had apparently imprinted on and was actually just their pet. Venom had named her Popsicle.

Ta-da, Venom said as it dropped two plates stacked high with who knows what underneath the waffles. 

“Thanks, Vee. Looks great,” Eddie lied. 

Venom swirled the end of a tentacle across his face, and Eddie reached up a hand to hold it steady so he could kiss it. 

Venom always helped with eating, because despite Eddie’s weird appetites, he still found it difficult to actually put food to mouth without gagging a bit. He also hated how long it took to eat enough to make him full, so Venom took to mindlessly feeding him, quicker than Eddie could feed himself, while he checked his emails and read the news.

What do you want to do this weekend? Venom asked as it put a fork to Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing,” Eddie mumbled around the food.

Oooh, spicing it up a bit from last weekend when we did nothing.

Eddie huffed a laugh and reached for a limb, tangling his fingers through the threads of Venom’s biomass. 

After breakfast, Eddie got caught up in reading on his phone, so Venom took over control of his body and moved him onto the couch. It laid him on his back and propped pillows behind his head and under his arm, then it produced several tentacles out of the center of his chest and took to cleaning the mess it had made.

Eddie couldn’t see his phone past the tentacles, so a smaller tendril emerged and held it for him. His hands free, he stuck his right down the front of his boxers and lazily played with himself. 

Venom ignored him, too busy humming along to the radio to notice that Eddie was getting hard. After about five minutes, Eddie got bored and stopped his hand, resting it palm down inside the waistband of his boxers. His neglected boner softened.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Anne’s voice shouting at them to turn off the music. 

Eddie jumped and reflexively sucked a couple tentacles back into his body. Another limb caught his phone before it fell to the floor, then even more tentacles came out of his back and pushed him upright and closed his robe for him. 

Venom had cleaned much of the mess in the kitchen, but there was still cereal all over the counter, dishes piled precariously in the sink and on the stove, bullet holes in the fridge door, a tire swing hanging by the kitchen table, gaping holes in the ceiling, a four-foot stack of various bones from different creatures in the corner—hacked up by Venom during digestion.

“The chickens—grab the fucking chickens,” Eddie whisper-shouted as he walked to the door, Popsicle under his arm. 

Venom grabbed the other three chickens and held them out of sight of the cracked door. 

“Hey, Annie,” Eddie greeted. 

She tried to peer through the door, but Eddie had a tight grip on it, only revealing a sliver of his body to her. 

“You didn’t text me last night,” she said.

Eddie closed his eyes. “Right. Sorry. We got home really fucking late, and it just slipped my mind.” 

“Eddie, I have to know you’re OK.” Anne tilted her head and moved her eyes like if she looked hard enough then the door would magically swing open. 

“We’re fine, Annie. We took care of things.” Eddie avoided telling Anne details of his and Venom's vigilantism, but he always tried to text her to let her know they were safe. 

“Eddie.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you holding a chicken?”

As Eddie looked down at the chicken under his arm, Anne shoulder-tackled him and the door simultaneously and made a break for it into his apartment. Venom immediately encased her in tentacles and tossed her back into the hallway and slammed the door shut in her face.

I HAVEN’T FINISHED CLEANING UP IN HERE, ANNIE, AND I’D LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, Venom shouted.

Several neighbors yelled and banged on the walls, demanding that Venom shut the fuck up. 

“HEY!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs. He grabbed a broom with his hand and a mop with a tentacle and aggressively hit the ends of them against the ceiling and walls. “NEED I REMIND YOU FREELOADERS WHO TOOK CARE OF CRAIG?” 

Craig was their (missing for 35 days and counting) landlord. 

Anne pounded on the door. “Eddie, open this fucking door, I swear to god!”

Eddie forcefully cracked the door, only enough for Anne to see one of his narrowed eyes. “You’re not allowed to judge how we live.”

She pushed on the door, and he allowed her to come inside. A solid minute passed in which Anne stood in the middle of the apartment with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room without saying anything. Then, in an even tone:

“Alright. First question. Tire swing?”

Venom continued cleaning. Eddie stood next to Anne.

“Do you want the real answer or the PG answer?”

Anne’s whole body revolted. “Ew, oh my god. Gross, gross, gross—”

No, Annie, look, it’s just for this, Venom said, extending a head out of Eddie’s shoulder and snaking several tentacles around the tire. It spun the tire as fast as possible in one direction and then unraveled itself in a gooey mess as the tire spun in the other direction. 

“Oh,” Anne said. “Is that really what you use it for?”

Venom’s head was in the middle of the tire with limbs extending out to swing itself back and forth. No, I suspend Eddie in it and fuck him until he cries.

Anne cursed and threw her hands up in the air. Eddie and Venom laughed.

“Alright, next question.” Anne said after she had recovered. “Are the chickens for eating?”

“Yeah, except for Popsicle.” Eddie pointed across the room at where Popsicle was pecking at unidentified detritus on the floor.

“How the hell do you know which one Popsicle is?” 

“What do you mean? She’s that one.” He pointed again.

“They all look the same, Eddie.”

No. Popsicle looks like that. Venom pointed a tendril toward Popsicle. And the food looks like that. Another tendril split off into three prongs to point at the other chickens. 

Anne dropped her head and put her fingers to her temples, rubbing in circles. 

The toaster oven exploded. 

“Jesus, Vee, what did I tell you about—”

WELL maybe if SOMEONE would let me steal an oven then we could—

“Where the hell are we gonna put an oven in here? You gonna steal it from one of our neighbors?”

They continued arguing with each other while a tentacle grabbed a fire extinguisher from their stash of fire extinguishers in the coat closet and put the toaster oven out. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna get your deposit back, Eddie,” Anne said, still looking around his apartment. Her eyes stopped on the wicker basket full of dildos by the TV, but she didn't comment on it. 

A rock hit Eddie’s window. Venom opened it and stuck a tentacle out, and the neighborhood kids down on the street cheered and asked if it had time to play. 

“Go ahead, babe,” Eddie said.

It always felt a little strange when Venom removed so much of itself from inside Eddie’s body. It of course had to leave some still inside him, but just one tiny thread connected them together as Venom fanned out on the outside of the apartment building and juggled as many mundane objects as the children had in their power to throw up at it. Rocks, old toys, dolls, basketballs, baseball bats, a lawn chair, a pan of broccoli casserole, a cat. 

“How the hell do you live like this, Eddie?” Anne asked. 

Eddie cleared a space on the kitchen counter by shoving cereal onto the floor, then he grabbed two mugs off the sink pile and dug the coffeemaker out from the back of an extremely disorganized cabinet. The coffee itself was hidden from Venom in a plastic bag duct taped to the wall behind the fridge, so Eddie easily nudged the fridge to the side to retrieve it. He figured if Venom played with the kids long enough, he could get a little bit of caffeine in his body without it noticing. 

He said to Anne, “I’m in a relationship with an alien. What do you expect?”

Anne looked at the fridge then at Eddie, clearly confused by his inhuman strength. “I don’t know? For you to still act like an adult human?” 

Eddie internally tugged at the strands of Venom still inside him and found just enough biomass to make thick black veins pop out all over his face. “How ‘bout now? Do I still look like an adult human?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie pulled the veins back in. “Stop worrying about us, Annie. I know it looks like a disaster in here, but that’s because our life is a disaster. It works for us.”

A child shrieked in a loud laugh. Eddie could just barely see through the window that Venom was juggling the 5-year-old twin girls that lived in the apartment below them. 

“Babe!” Eddie yelled. “Put the girls down before somebody calls the fucking cops!”

The girls aww’d their disappointment as Venom carefully lowered them to the ground. 

“Eddie.”

He turned his attention back to Anne and waited for her to continue.

“Are you, um, safe? Like, what are the logistics of your...sex life?”

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, Annie, Vee is made up of a whole bunch of malleable tentacles, so I’d say use your imagination.”

Venom slithered its way back in, so Eddie tried to gulp down his coffee but didn’t finish before a tentacle wrenched it out of his hand and slung it into the sink.

“How do you know you’re not, like, subjecting yourself to some kind of alien STDs?” Anne asked. “Or, like, what if it’s changed your body composition so much that you guys are, like, capable of reproducing?”

Venom and Eddie both gasped and smiled at each other, Venom’s head floating just a couple feet away from Eddie’s. 

Eddie said, “Oh, that would be so cute if we had a little—” at the same time that Venom said Aww imagine if it had your good looks and my complexion—

“Fucking Christ, you guys are intolerable,” Anne interrupted. “Can you not be weird for, like, two seconds?”

Venom pouted at her and moved its head over to Eddie’s shoulders, nudging at his face and bumping against him like a needy cat. It wrapped two big tentacles around his waist like arms, and Eddie dropped his hands over them and squeezed affectionately. 

“What else did you come over here for, Annie?” Eddie asked.

She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you and Venom would like to come over to my apartment sometime to have dinner with me and Dan.”

Venom’s head popped up from where it was resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Dan is finally ready to hang out with me?!

“Yes, but he’s still a little delicate since—”

I tried to stick my tongue in his mouth when you were kissing him goodbye before going to rescue Eddie from Riot, yeah, I get that.

“You what?” Eddie asked.

“So if you could just try to temper yourselves a tiny bit, maybe leave the chickens at home and don’t talk about fucking each other,” Anne concluded. 

“He knows that we’re fucking each other, though, right?”

“Yes, but knowing it and being confronted with it are two totally different things.”

Hey, Annie, tell Dan I think he’s boring.

“Hey, be nice,” Eddie chastised, reaching a hand up to pat Venom’s face. 

Anne told them she would let them know a date and time, then she headed for the door with Eddie close on her heels. She turned and hugged him on her way out and didn’t flinch when a couple tentacles clung to her, too. 

They’re not going to feed us enough, Venom said after she was gone. 

“Yeah, we’ll have to pre-game.”

Eddie went back to his lazy spot on the couch and Venom went back to tidying up. This time, when Eddie’s hand inevitably found its way into his boxers, Venom took notice right away and teased a small tendril out of his thigh to join in on the fun. 

ALEXA, PLAY “LET’S GET IT ON” BY MARVIN GAYE.

“You broke the Alexa yesterday, babe.”

Right, I’ll just have to sing it myself.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned his head back, stroking himself slowly. “Please don’t.”

Venom rumbled a complaint through Eddie’s entire body, but then it snaked two tentacles over his shoulders and down his chest and pulled his boxers off completely. Two more tentacles pushed out of Eddie’s back and hammocked him in, folding underneath him and then turning up toward the ceiling to grip the holes.

When they started having sex, it wasn’t really so much of a monumental decision as it was Venom participating in literally every single other aspect of Eddie’s life that it just didn’t make sense for it not to be involved in the most fun bit. After Venom had been with Eddie for a week or so, Eddie couldn’t avoid his sex drive anymore and tried to quietly jerk off. Venom, having already stuck its tentacles into everything else Eddie did, simply wrapped a limb around Eddie’s hand and helped him out. And Eddie, stupid and horny, had immediately asked the alien to fuck him with its tongue. 

So, here they were.

With Eddie suspended, Venom moved its head under him and licked its way around his rim. There was still only one small tendril helping his hand pump his cock, but they had plenty of time to—

“Eddie, I forgot my—oh my god, oh my fucking god, oh my fucking—”

Eddie dropped back down on the couch, biomass encasing his nakedness in a safe little cocoon, but Anne had already rushed out the door and slammed it shut. 

He sighed. “I guess she doesn’t have to use her imagination.”