#which is not something I get pinged for often these days

[saint--claire]

Haiiiiii just stopping in from ao3 to tell you I LOVE your Melendaire fics and you’ve inspired me to write my own <333333333

hope you’re doing well!

Hello, this is such a nice ask to get!!!

It's always nice to hear that people like my writing but if inspires you to write MORE pieces, that is even better!! It's been a while since I published for TGD, but the fact it's still making you smile is pretty damn amazing.

I am doing pretty well these days - I seem to swing between being manically busy and absolutely pooped, but currently I am in the rocking chair with her grace purring away beside me, so tonight's a win 😊🦋

I hope you have the nicest day

x

[heliosundercover]

Special customer

Redhood

Special customer Redhood who gains the title by beating up some shady guys attempting to break into your bakery and apartment above it, and after the job was done, you begged him to stay around until you got a new security system installed. But even with it installed, he seems to be in the area. One night, you offered him a coffee, and now every night on patrol, he comes for his coffee.

 

Special customer Redhood, got a pretty sweet drink, not something a vigilante would drink. It was a black coffee with 5 pumps of caramel and a dash of cinnamon sugar. Something about the unlikely order was cute in a way.

 

Special customer Redhood, doesn't know that you have an alarm set, so you can wake up late enough to catch him and give him his coffee. One day he catches you, though. You come downstairs to check to see if he was there yet, and he sees you in pajamas, your hair up so you can sleep comfortably, 

 "Wait, were you sleeping?" He looks you up and down. 

"Nice pajamas" 

Only then does he look up the hours of the bakery, seeing that it closes at 10 p.m., whereas he's coming in between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. That was when he first realized how considerate you were.

 

Special customer Redhood finally asks you about your day after two weeks of him coming in for a cup of coffee and a weirdly comfortable silence while he drinks and unwinds from his long patrol.

"How was your day... You look exhausted." He took a long pause, realizing he didn't know your name, but to his surprise, you laughed, and after that one small gesture, he knew he wanted to hear it again. 

You and him talked for a few hours until his headset pinged that there was something suspicious going on in the area he was supposed to be patrolling, but here he was flirting with a baker.

He never got your name.

 

 

Special customer Redhood, gets the same thing every time, so eventually you give his order a special name. His own secret menu item. special customer, Redhood, who asks

"Did you name this drink after me?" When you say 

"One red cup coming up." The name was Corny, and it slipped up before you could stop yourself, and now you cringed as you could hear the smirk in his heavily distorted voice. His question was immediately met with denial. 

 

Special customer Redhood enjoyed talking with you and learning about you. He also liked how you weren't pushy, not asking anything that could put his identity at risk. Here's a list of things he told you.

He liked classic literature.

He had never tried matcha before you made him try your new matcha white chocolate cookies. 

He loved animals and always wanted a big dog.

His favorite color was green, which was surprising considering his choice of name.

He never went to college. 

 

New customer Jason Todd, who made you raise an eyebrow when he ordered a "red cup," had a barely noticeable smirk like he was thinking of an inside joke.  Your eyebrow raised a bit more when a younger-looking guy asked

"Jason, why this bakery? It's not even a real coffee shop; they just happen to sell three types of coffee and a special lemonade. And its super put of the way."

His words were met with a flick to the back of his head by Jason.

"Because I like it here."

 

New-ish customer Jason, who came in mornings ordering the same thing every couple of days every so often, had a person or two with him. But while Jason wasn't consistent, but you like him any.

 

Special customer Redhood, who had been planning on asking you out as Jason for months. It was now winter, and the snow on the ground made him think of you. He knew winter was your favorite season, and it was the first snow of the season today. He knew it had to be today. 

 

Innocent bystanders Dick, Damian, and Tim watched their brother go mad over a baker. A mix of happiness and impending doom lingered amongst the group they had started taking bets on when he would finally ask her out a while ago. And so far, Alfred is the closest to winning. 

 

Regular customer Jason Todd, who had run into the bakery with flowers in hand right before closing, Slightly out of breath, he asked 

"Will you go out to dinner with me? Saturday night at 8 p.m.?"

"Sure." You smile happily, accepting his offer  and you watch as his eyes light up and he hands you the bouquet of flowers. 

 

Boyfriend Jason Todd, who is surprised when you, after a year of dating, reveal that you've been suspicious since day one, All because of a stupid drink with a corny name. 

 

Boyfriend Jason Todd, who can't help but tease you,.

 "So it was named after me?"

 

Boyfriend and soon-to-be fiancée Jason Todd, who proposes to you on the roof of your apartment and bakery the whole roof was decked out with a vine covered arch and fairy lights. 

"So, will you marry me?"

 

He gets on one knee, opening a gorgeous engagement ring with your favorite precious stone inside. It was your dream ring, and he was your dream guy, and of course you said yes.

 

Fiancée Jason Todd, who pulls you into a passionate kiss when he hears the words leave your lips, couldn't be more excited to spend the rest of his life with you.

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[babyleostuff]

SHADOW

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: you don't know when the universe factory had become your safe place, but woozi always made sure to comfort you in every way he could - even if it meant he had to spoil his new song

pairing: idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst, comfort | word count: 2k

To say that you had a bad day would be an understatement. The morning was actually perfect - you woke up next to your boyfriend, as he didn’t have to rush to the studio early in the morning (finally), you ate breakfast together, you even managed to make him some snacks for work.

But as the day passed, it seemed like the universe wanted you to fail on every step that you made. Nothing major really happened, it was just a series of unfortunate events, but it was enough to make you cry out of frustration in the middle of the street on your way home.

It didn’t help that it was pouring, and you couldn’t see two metres in front of you, let alone the bus that drove over the puddle, drenching you in the dirty water. 

“It’s time to use my girlfriend privilege card,” you thought, as you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself (not that it helped much). You knew Woozi was still at the Universe Factory, because let’s be real - when was he not, especially now as he and the boys were preparing for a comeback. The problem was you didn’t want to be too clingy, you knew he had work to do, songs to record, lyrics to write, and the last thing you wanted was to burden him with your silly little problems. 

As if your boyfriend could read your mind, you heard a ping coming from your phone a second later. 

WOOZI 🍚 are you home? 

You sighed, rain drenching your screen, because… Should you lie to him? You didn’t want to make him worry, but then again - lying wasn’t the smartest option. 

YOU 💎 not exactly  WOOZI 🍚 ??? YOU 💎 can i come over?  YOU 💎 if you’re busy it’s okay! WOOZI 🍚 stop being dramatic, you know you’re always welcome here  WOOZI 🍚 now get your ass over here 

You smiled at your phone. You could practically hear your boyfriend’s scolding voice and see the roll of his eyes. He was always like that when you tried to reassure him that you were okay, when in fact you were not. 

That was just one of the many things you loved about him. 

[...]

knock knock knock 

You swiped your wet hair strands off your forehead, droplets of water running down your cheeks, and under the collar of your coat. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d end up with a cold tomorrow, but hey - at least you’d get to stay home. 

The music behind the door was playing loud enough that Woozi probably didn't hear you knocking. He probably had his earphones on too, so you slowly opened the door, letting yourself in. A wave of warm air hit you as soon as you entered the room and you sighed in relief because you’d get to take off your soaked clothes. Maybe you could even convince Woozi to give you his hoodie, which would be perfect. 

Quickly taking off your shoes and hanging up your jacket, you pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands to warm up a bit, and went to look around the studio for your boyfriend. To no surprise, Woozi was sitting in front of his computer, papers scattered around him, making a mess on the desk, earphones on his head, while he was clearly occupied with something on the screen. 

You smiled and pulled out your phone, sending him a quick message “I’m here”. The second his phone lit up with a notification, your boyfriend picked it up and pulled the headphones off his head, and you just knew his brows were furrowed in confusion.  

“Turn around,” you giggled, crossing your arms over your chest. His head snapped towards you in surprise. You weren't planning on scaring him, but maybe you should do it more often because he looked adorable with his wide eyes and a slight pout. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” he sighed and shook his head in disapproval, his long hair falling over his forehead. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, although both of you knew you weren’t. 

For a moment, you just stared at each other as if you hadn't seen each other in a week, absorbing each other's presence as the music continued to play from his speakers. Woozi, however, quickly noticed how you were shaking, and his face immediately turned slightly worried.

"Everything's okay?" He asked. “Not really,” you shook your head, as all of the bad memories and frustrations of that day suddenly came back to you. 

“C’mere, let me hold you,” he extended his hand to you, putting the headphones down on the desk. You padded over to him, grabbing him tightly.

That was almost like a little routine in your relationship - when you needed something to hold onto during difficult days, you could always count on Woozi to be your pillar, making sure you never fell, no matter how hard it was. 

And that was exactly what you needed right now, to cling to him and trust that he would help you get rid of the terrible thoughts.

He moved the chair further away from the desk so you could sit on his lap, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Tsk, I think I need to buy you some kind of raincoat if you like walking in the rain so much,” he scolded you, feeling your wet clothes.

“Honestly, I don’t care anymore. I just want this day to end,” you muttered, grabbing his hand that was holding your waist.

“You want to talk about it?” Woozi asked, settling his chin on your shoulder. That was another thing you loved about him. He never made you talk about your problems, never tried to find a solution just to make you feel better, never pushed you to do anything - he always let you take your time and decide on your own if you needed his advice or just a hug. 

You shook your head. There was no point in dwelling on the past. 

“What are you working on?” You looked at the screen filled with different music softwares. You’d never fathom how he was able to switch between them so easily, knowing exactly what each and every of them did. “Nothing much. We needed to change one of the lyrics for the album, but I got stuck, so,” he sighed, from what you gathered he really was struggling with it. “I just started making a beat and recorded some lyrics to pass some time.” 

“Can I listen to it?” 

He hesitated for a second, before clicking on one of the open windows on his screen, rewinding the song to the beginning. “It’s nothing much, I made it in like an hour so don’t get your hopes up.” 

“You know I love all of your songs, honey,” you turned your head to place a kiss on his cheek, but that was the truth. Even if he insisted he made a song just for “fun”, you loved each and every single one of them.

From the first seconds you knew you’d absolutely adore the song. You could feel it was going to be some kind of ballad, which had to be your favourite genre of songs that your boyfriend made. He had this ability to make every sentence meaningful and so deep that you could feel it move your heart, no matter how good you were at hiding your emotions. 

I didn't want the hot sun to rise too far away  I hate everything in the shade on the other side of the light  He follows me every step, my eyes are always there I hated seeing myself run away

You closed your eyes, melting into Woozi’s embrace. The lyrics were already so painfully beautiful, and it just showed how great of a writer your boyfriend was.

​​Shadow, my shadow, my shadow I don't want others to see you Shadow, my shadow, my shadow I hated you and hurt you

Woozi was a master of making songs that most people could relate to, and sometimes you hated him so much for it, because most of the time you just wanted to bawl your eyes out. You almost had a fight when you heard For you for the first time. 

I ran to run away from you I hid in a place where was no light

Sensing how stiff he was behind you, you pulled his arm tighter around your waist, rubbing your thumb over his hand. Woozi could insist as much as he wanted that he made this just because he was bored, but you knew the lyrics meant a lot to him. You could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and in the lyrics. 

Stay with me, no matter in what moment Let's become the same light, the same shadow In whatever place, I'll hold you

You smiled at how the lyrics seemed to get more hopeful as the song was nearing its end. You weren’t sure if it was because you had this awful day, but hearing that brought you some sense of comfort.

Because even my darkness will shine brightly Baby I'm a shadow of you

As the song finished, and the studio went silent except for the pouring rain, you took a second to collect your thoughts, your brain blown at how your boyfriend could make something that beautiful in just an hour.  

“As I said,” Woozi murmured, his breath tickling your neck. “It’s not that good.” 

His brows furrowed as you pulled away from him, standing up, just to straddle him a second later. “Listen to me you little shit,” you took his face in your hands, as you had to suppress a giggle because of his offended expression. “That song was a fucking masterpiece, and I know I say that everytime, but I mean it,” you looked at him, your tone serious. “Do you have any idea how amazing it was?” 

Your boyfriend had a sceptic look on his face, it didn’t seem that he believed you. “You might not realise this, but the lyrics, the way you wrote about hiding your emotions and insecurities from the world, and how everything reminds us of the struggles, but that at the end of the day we learn and accept them, learning how to live with them…” you sighed, you eyes teary. “It means so much to me, and I’m sure it’d mean a lot to other people too. Sometimes we just need to be reminded that it’s okay to be scared of our feelings, but that they shouldn’t stop us from living our lives.” 

With every word you could see Woozi’s face softening, as if he started to understand how much it actually meant to you. “You got all of that from just listening to it once?” 

“Lee Jihoon, I’m being serious here,” you smacked his shoulder, although you were sure he didn’t even feel it. “Show this to the boys, baby. It’s too good to be hidden on your computer forever.” 

He nodded, running his hand through your hair. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” You tilted your head, looking at him in surprise. You should be the one thanking him for letting you come here and interrupt his work and for letting you listen to his song. “For being here with me. For always believing in me.” 

You felt tears forming in your eyes because it wasn’t often that Woozi was so open with you about his feelings. He always expressed them through actions, or songs, and hearing those words moved you more than they should have. 

You sniffled, bringing his face closer to yours, and pecked his lips sweetly. “I will always believe in you. No matter what.” He smiled against your lips, kissing you again, as he held your face between his hands, like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

And just like that you forgot about all of the bad things that happened earlier. 

Now it was only you, Woozi, and your shadows.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @daegutowns

[choiyawnzjun]

previous part

pairing ; nerdychurchboy!jake x afab!reader

sypnosis ; the nerd at church isn’t quite as innocent as you think.

genre ; smut

wc ; 1835

warnings ; begging, dry humping, degradation, handcuffs ( jake ), handjob/blowjob??

after that day in the church, jake had been teasing you A LOT and whenever you’d try initiate something he always had to act innocent and oblivious, he knew what he was doing to you and you absolutely hated it. it was so frustrating.

however, one day, your parents wanted you to drop something off for them at jake’s house. you thought this was the perfect opportunity to see jake, well you’ll see i guess. but, when you arrived, it was just his parents, jake was nowhere to be found, his parents were in a hurry to go somewhere so they let you in to place the stuff down and just left you in the house alone.

you know you should’ve just left right away after dealing with whatever it was you were dealing with but you really needed to go to the bathroom. while you were looking for the bathroom, you walked past a room. jake’s room. now, you also know you shouldn’t be sneaking into people’s rooms while they’re not home but you couldn’t help yourself. he had something in his room that caught your eyes.

handcuffs.

why the hell would he have handcuffs in his room? especially out in the open..

you went into his room to pick up the handcuffs and try find out why jake had them. maybe they have some secret thing on them? by the time you even reached them, you heard the front door open and footsteps immediately ran up the stairs. you panicked and didn’t know what to do so you unconsciously hurried underneath his bed, your heart was thumping rapidly and you regretted staying in the house for longer.

the person finally reached his room. jake. shit, why did he have to come home now? what you found a bit weird was that jake walked straight over to the mirror on one side of the room and took off his shirt. oh my god. well, you weren’t expecting this, of course. how many times did this guy go to the gym? he definitely goes often for sure.

after staring at his sculpted body for a bit too long, you were about to shift your eyes to his face but he was already placing himself down on the bed which made your eyes widen slightly. but what made you even more shocked was when he unzipped his pants and…

“___… oh my god.” he breathily groaned. you obviously couldn’t see what he was doing but you so badly wanted to. you didn’t want him thinking of you as a creep though. little did you know, your phone wasn’t turned off.

PING!

oh shit. your eyes widened, panic stricken. you froze under the bed as jake suddenly stopped. rustling of clothes filled your eyes as you felt the mattress of the bed lift slightly above you. you shut your eyes, pursing your lips together. this was so embarrassing.

“___?” jake said from the right side of the bed. you didn’t really want to open your eyes since it would make you more embarrassed.

“___, why are you… under my bed?” he questioned, you finally decided to get out from under his bed and stood up, both of you on either side of the bed. he put his sweatpants back up but they were sagging off on the right side of his side.

“um..” you trailed off since you had no excuse whatsoever. this was so awkward.

“i don’t know.” you shrugged, face heating up every second.

“why are you even in my house?” he questioned once again, you noticed his face turning into a tint of pink, probably because he knows you definitely heard him jerking off and thinking about you.

awkward silence.

you avoided eye contact with him since you were too embarrassed but you couldn’t help it and look down, he was wearing GREY sweatpants. GREY. it’s not your fault, you can’t help yourself. your eyes shifted down towards his begging boner that slightly twitched when you looked down.

you quickly looked away again. jake suddenly scoffed and you glanced up at him, he was running his hand through his hair, the smirk that was displayed on his beautiful face made you want to faint, his teeth glinting towards you.

“so you’re really that desperate huh?” he scoffed again, putting his hands into his pockets and staring at you with a grin. you realised there was something different about jake’s face, you thought that it was maybe cause his glasses were off but you realised his eyes changed.

a mixture of lust and passion were in his eyes. you were turned on right now. well, you didn’t want to admit that earlier anyway..

“what? what do you mean?” you acted innocent, laughing nervously, trying hard not to look down again.

“oh? you don’t remember that time in church?” he cocked an eyebrow up, still having that smug grin on his stupid face.

“no… what do you mean?” you nervously laughed again, you hated this, you’ve wanted him so bad for weeks yet you were too embarrassed to admit it. definitely not like this. you wanted to at least be in a normal situation before this, like maybe hanging out or something but not you hiding under his bed.

“oh okay, then i guess you don’t wanna continue th-..” you cut him off, you were too desperate now, you were having sudden flashbacks of what happened between you two in the church attic, you hadn’t felt that good in so long. maybe ever.

“no please! i want you so bad right now.” you begged, walking around to him and looking up, eyes also begging for him to make you feel good.

“mmmh, maybe another time, i’m too tired now.” he teased, pretending to yawn and laid down on his bed, his sculpted body on full display, god you wanted to ride him.

“no, jake please.” you climbed onto his lap, grinding down onto his hard dick, fabric separating the both of you.

“jesus, fuck, you’re such a disgusting, desperate whore, no?” you were still rolling onto him, his dick twitching underneath you, as he brought his hands up to your hips, helping you control your movements.

“mhm, only for you.” you nodded at him, biting your lip, the friction starting to make you hot.

“are you sure? you don’t just fuck every guy you see?” he taunted, if another guy had said that to you in a different context you would’ve lost your absolute mind and gone crazy. but, this was actually making you even wetter, you felt like you were leaking through your panties and pants.

“no.. no. only for you.” you shut your eyes, you were on the verge of cumming, the knot in your stomach tightening every second. you wanted more but you didn’t want to stop.

“yeah? you wanna be my little slut? just mine, hm?” he brought his hand up and bunched your hair up, suddenly grabbing your hair and slightly forcing you to look at him as his other hand stayed on your hip.

“i wanna cum jake.” you whined, you stopped rolling your hips as you were getting tired. your hands roamed over his torso, feeling every part of it. he flipped you both over so he was now on top of you but… this time you wanted to do all the work.

“no, wait, jake. i wanna do all the work now.” you pleaded, giving him your puppy eyes which you’d never done with him before. however, it worked so..

“okay, fine.” he rolled his eyes, jake pretended to hate the fact he wasn’t on top anymore but, in fact, he had always been waiting for this moment. dreaming about it everyday ever since you two had began talking. you both switched places again, you were smiling on top of him, happy that you were finally giving him pleasure. you glanced up to his hands where one was on your hip and the other massaging your thigh.

then, you remembered the handcuffs you saw earlier, you moved your view to the nightstand by his head and the shining handcuffs glowed at you, wanting you to pick them up.

you were probably staring at them for too long though because jake noticed and grabbed them off, handing them to you and finally put his hands over his head, giving you permission to restrain him.

“really?” your eyes slightly widened at his eagerness to this but you gave him no time to respond and locked his hands together immediately. well, that’s what he gets for teasing you for however many weeks that was.

“come on, i’ll be your slut for today then, yeah?” his eyes were still filled with the same lust and passion from earlier yet the only difference was that he craved more now.

you leaned over and pressed your body against him, peppering his jawline with soft but sweet kisses and finally capturing his lips in yours. your lips moulding beautifully with his like two puzzle pieces that were perfect for each other.

you tugged his sweatpants down which revealed an obvious wet patch in his underwear. you moved towards his painful boner, you rubbed him softly as he suddenly had a sudden expression of regret on his face. you were going too slowly for him.

“fuck, i wish i didn’t let you do this to me now.” referring to the thing that was preventing him from touching you. you laughed at his statement as you slightly sucked him through his underwear, still continuing to rub him softly. you didn’t want to touch him fully yet, you wanted to have a little fun after everything he’s done to you. you understand, right?

“oh my god, ___, please..!” he begged, he wanted more of your touch, more friction, just anything. he hated this. he tried breaking out of the handcuffs he was locked in but eventually gave up. you loved this.

“please, i really just wanna cum.” he begged once again, you don’t really know how long it’d been with all your teasing but you finally gave in, pulling his underwear down and taking his throbbing cock into your hands, jerking him off as you sucked the red tip that looked like it was about to pop.

he bucked his hips into your mouth, wanting you to give him more and more. you refused and continued to suck only the tip but increased the speed of your hand on his twitching cock.

“___, don’t stop..” he breathily whined, clenching his hands, trying to blindly look for something to at least grab onto or touch. the bucking of his hips and whines of struggle made you feel confident each second which made you take him in even more.

“wait.. i’m gonna cum-..” he shut his eyes as he panted and whined under you.

the front door was unlocked and opened.

“jake, darling?” his mother called out, rustling of plastic bags being dropped onto a table.

not again.

[paimonial-rage]

talks of the past - zhongli

ship: zhongli x reader

synopsis: in which the wangsheng funeral parlor’s consultant tries to restore your faith in rex lapis

notes: 1.7k words, chapter 7 of bookkeeping!verse; with ties to various chapters in the series

It was yet another day you found yourself traveling with Zhongli to Qingce Village. Objectively speaking, it was a beautiful morning. The sun was high in the sky without a cloud in sight, the birds were chirping, and the temperature was nice. Really, there shouldn’t have been anything there to get you down. And yet…

There you were walking with your head down and a faraway look in your eyes. Had you been more aware, you would’ve noticed your companion speaking a few times. You would’ve seen the concerned look in his eyes as he peered down at you. But you were lost in your thoughts, uncharacteristically troubled and insecure.

If you had noticed, you would’ve felt a bit of pity for your companion. It was not often that you were seen in such a depressed state. Really, despite your temperament, you were generally alert and sociable. He often enjoyed the banter that would come about between you two. Truly, you were a dear friend to him. That being said, it wasn’t often you shared your concerns with him. He wasn’t sure if you even would if asked.

He cleared his throat.

“First, is… there anything that’s bothering you?”

It took a few moments for you to respond, almost prompting him to ask again before you let out a long sigh.

“Zhongli,” you began, looking up to him imploringly, “Can I talk to you about something?”

He couldn’t deny the slight start of his heart that came with your question. You’ve brought up your concerns to him before, but those were often accompanied with glares and opinions regarding his financial decisions. This time, however, exhaustion was evident in your voice with dark bags under your eyes. He could not recall doing anything that’d result in your loss of sleep.

“Sure,” he began, careful to keep his wariness absent.

“It’s not a big deal,” you began in a way that implied the opposite. “I’m sure you know how much I revere Rex Lapis. Even though he passed, I still greatly respect the legacy he left behind.”

“Yes,” he replied with a nod. “You’ve mentioned this to me a few times in the past.”

A bit too many, he would add. And with your way with words, it never exactly was… pleasant. At the very least, he was relieved your lack of sleep wasn’t with anything he did as Zhongli.

“It’s just… Lately, I’ve been talking to Madam Ping in my free time, and… I feel like my faith is beginning to be shaken…”

He frowned.

“‘Shaken?’ In what way?”

“I…” You bit your lip as tears welled in your eyes. “Don’t hate me for saying this, but I…”

You hesitated.

“I’m beginning to think he was actually a complete weirdo.”

A… A weirdo?

He cleared his throat, feeling if not just a little attacked.

“In what way?”

You sighed, glancing away with your guilt-ridden eyes.

“In… in every way.”

‘Every way?’

“For instance, take into account Mora…”

Of course, it had to do with Mora.

“Well, I once heard a story that Rex Lapis created the first home out of Mora. I always thought it was metaphorical or just a silly children’s tale, but… Madame Ping confirmed it to be true. When I asked her why he chose Mora, she said it simply was because it was available. He didn’t have any deeper meaning to it.”

He frowned. Ignoring the sense of déjà vu he felt regarding this specific topic, he didn’t see any problem with his actions.

“Yes, it only makes sense. To the God of Wealth and Commerce, what material is easier to get than Mora?”

“Exactly!” You exclaimed suddenly, nearly causing him to flinch. “Only a simple-minded man would come up with such a simple-minded conclusion.”

“S-Simple-minded…”

You nodded.

“Just because he had all the access in the world to Mora didn’t mean the common folk did. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to make the first model home out of materials available to everyone?”

He coughed.

“Perhaps.”

You sniffled.

“It’d be fine if that was the only thing, but Shitou from the Jade Mystery told me that once Rex Lapis stopped by his family’s shop in the past and purchased a spoon made of fine Noctilucus Jade to sample the culinary delights of Liyue Harbor.” You buried your face in your hands. “Why would he spend that much Mora just for a simple spoon?”

“W-Well…”

“I know, I know. As the God of Wealth and Commerce, he had easy access to Mora. And I’m sure it made him happy to contribute to the wealth of Liyue Harbor’s commonfolk, but for someone who spent so much time around his people, it’s like he had no concept of his own creation’s worth! It’s shamelessly extravagant! I didn’t think he was such a wasteful person…”

In the back of his mind, Zhongli had the urge to disagree, to stand up for the good name of Rex Lapis. Really, he wasn’t so shameless as you made him out to be, at least he didn’t think he was. But before he could respond, you continued.

“That’s not all though…” you started again.

Oh no.

“A while ago, I told Meng and the Ferrylady that Rex Lapis wasn’t a self-absorbed narcissist, but…”

Oh no…

“I was talking to Sir Yun the other day of the Yun-Han Opera Troupe? I always knew that Rex Lapis enjoyed the troupe’s shows, but did you know he starred in a few of them? As a warrior, she said. And as you know, Rex Lapis is known as the Warrior God. So that means he basically played himself in operas singing songs about… himself. Can you imagine doing that? How…”

Tears came to your eyes.

“Cringe.”

He resisted the urge to clear his throat.

“Though records say he may have taken part in those operas, I can’t recall Miss Yun stating he starred as himself,” he began. “The assumption he did so is mere conjecture at best.”

That last part slipped from his tongue before he could rein it back in. You never took kindly when his opinions differed from yours, and yet… Well, perhaps he was feeling if not a little attacked. The Yun-Han Opera Troupe had a long history, after all. They certainly would not be more the wiser if some tales became embellished over the years. He thought out of all people you would be more aware of that than most.

Thankfully, much to his relief, you were. Instead of taking to anger like you usually did, you nodded obediently.

“That’s true. I hope you’re right,” you replied with a hopeful smile. “Madame Ping said that not even the great Cloud Retainer watches operas about herself. It’s too embarrassing.”

He did clear his throat that time.

“I suppose not everyone enjoys hearing tales of their past,” he finally let out.

You nodded.

“I’m glad at least she agrees with me that only weird and abnormal people do things like that,” you let out with a bit of relief. “I was getting worried I’m the only person that feels that way…”

He only smiled in response, ignoring the fact that Cloud Retainer only said that it was “embarrassing,” not “weird” or “abnormal.” You really did not hesitate to deal your blows, did you?

“You know what the worst thing is, though?” You asked, looking up at him imploringly. “Legend has it that the gods are able to change their physical forms. There are even tales of Rex Lapis taking a female form. But… out of all the records, there are no depictions of his female form, only that she had amber eyes.”

Zhongli frowned in thought. Though he heard and understood your words well, he didn’t know what was the wrong in what you said. The tales of Rex Lapis were often embellished, especially in the way they painted him as the type to change his form often. The truth of the matter was far from that. Not that he could tell you that, of course. But before he could respond in any way, your eyes became filled with tears.

“I mean, he obviously didn’t mind leaving evidence of his male visage. And as I told you before, he made sure he looked good in every one of them. So if he was narcissistic enough to do that, why not leave anything behind of his female form? You… You don’t think… she was UGLY, do you?” You cried in pain.

If his brain didn’t shut down before, it definitely did then. But not noticing, you continued on.

“That’s the only reason I can come up with. Rex Lapis shares his beauty with everyone, after all, so she must have been so ugly that a narcissist like him couldn’t bear for others to see!” You sobbed.

Every word that left your mouth felt like a blow to his ego. Was this truly what you thought about him?

“So do you see why my faith has been shaken? If we try to view him as a person, Rex Lapis was a simple-minded conceited weirdo that was so ashamed of his female form he wiped any and all traces of her depiction out of existence.”

He couldn’t do this anymore.

“While the tales of the past may be rooted in truth, it’s important to realize they are only that. Tales. Nothing more. As it is, we simply do not know how much we can take as fact. So I would not let it bother you too much, First,” he stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

Though you looked as if you had more to say, you slowly nodded once, then once again with more surety.

“You’re right. I guess I’m looking far too into this. Surely if the great Rex Lapis was revered by so many, even the adepti, he must have been worthy of the respect. I just need to remember that,” you replied bashfully. “I’m sorry to have piled this all on you, Zhongli.”

He shook his head with a chuckle.

“It is alright. I am glad to be your voice of reason.”

Laughing in return, you nodded.

“Yes, thank you. And well, I guess it could be worse, I suppose. Madame Ping was always respectful to Rex Lapis in her stories. She could’ve said that he was the kind of person with… I don’t know. No common sense or something. Like could you imagine if he was the type of person that thought it was a smart idea to bring square cups instead of circle to a party?” You asked with a laugh. “Now that would be horrifying.”

……

Yes, you certainly had a way with words.

[hangup119]

FEELS LIKE A THRILLER! ᯓᡣ𐭩

12. #NOTACANNIBAL written chapter | 2.8k words

“WHAT, YOU DON’T feed your plants?”

Seunghan tilts his head. “... Why should I?” 

“Then what the hell kind of owner are you, dude?” you accuse, adjusting the strap of your bag as the two of you head towards the car parking lot. “Who doesn’t feed their plants?”

Seunghan pauses, eyebrows furrowing, before a smile breaks out on his face and then he’s throwing his head back to laugh. He opens the door of the passenger seat for you, saying, “You mean, like, feeding them fertilizer? Wait, how often do you feed them anyway?” 

“Everyday.” 

Seunghan looks concerned. “Um, I don’t think that’s right…” 

You shrug, hopping into the car. “My plant seems to love it, though. It has never looked this alive! That obviously means I’m doing something right, right?”

He blinks when the door finally shuts, wondering how that even works. What kind of plant do you even have in the first place to require fertilizer every single day? He thought it’d be just some room plant, something low-maintenance, but maybe you’re actually a secret plant-connoisseur since you’ve been keeping it alive all this time? Hell, for all he knows, you’re probably developing your own venus flytrap that could digest a whole-ass elephant or something… a part of some secret society with mad scientists obsessed with plants and Seunghan’s just none the wiser…

He promptly starts the vehicle, dismissing such thoughts. He really needs to stop watching those crazy Sci-Fi movies with Sohee every Wednesday. 

When the car finally gets out of school property, Seunghan takes one quick glance at you. “So,” he starts, hands admittedly a bit clammy as he steers the wheel and stops at a red light. “Anywhere you’d like to go? I was thinking maybe we should get some food, or something. We should have really planned this out, huh?” 

A notification ping suddenly rings out after he finishes; an awfully familiar sound at that. 

“Do not open your goddamn phone to play Pokemon Go right now, Seunghan,” you warn, and he immediately deflates at how easily you’ve read him. Then, you smile sweetly, “But, yeah, we can go get something to eat first!” 

He laughs anyway, swerving towards downtown. “Alright. Also, I wasn’t even going to open Pokemon Go. Just saying.” 

“Yeah, okay, and I’m definitely not going to jump out into oncoming traffic right now.” 

“Please don’t.” 

After spending some time eating at a nearby cafe Eunseok has been asking to go together with the guys, the two of you manage to get through a whole hour without glancing at each of your phones, too focused on the other to truly care whether or not there are pokemons in the area. During that whole hour of you casually attempting to flirt with Seunghan in your own little way, you find that perhaps he’s not as obsessed with the mobile game as much as you believed him to be—which is good, even though you do find it a little bit cute, but at least he’s not addicted or something. 

Seunghan pulls out his phone after you’ve stepped out of the establishment. “Holy shit? There’s a Piplup just a block away!”

“Seriously?” you squawk. 

“Yeah!” he excitedly responds, only to end up getting smacked on the arm. “Oh, not what you meant. Okay.” 

You give him a fixed stare. He returns it.

“Can we please catch it?” Seunghan pleads, forming his hands into a prayer. 

You falter, attempting to look at anywhere but his face. Hot nerds are a curse, you think miserably.

“Please, Y/N? It’s Piplup!” he continues, finally taking your hands in his. You flush, believing that he can just go ahead and go catch the damn pokemon himself but instead chooses to spend more time begging you to go with him in order to catch it together. Right. Because you’re on a date. And Seunghan isn't an asshole. Right. Guy who had a girlfriend for four years over here. Someone already cooked before you. 

“Okay, fine,” you finally surrender, mentally cursing yourself for going down such a rabbit hole. Who cares about his ex-girlfriend? She was the past, and you’re the present (hopefully)! “But just Piplup!” 

Seunghan laughs, crossing the road with you. “I promise I won’t make this a Pokemon Go date.”

He’s still holding your hand. Like a real couple. You have to mention it.

“You better not,” you say instead, squeezing his hand in return. 

After acquiring the stupid Piplup loitering by a fire hydrant next to a pissing dog, Seunghan leads you back to his car to spend a couple more minutes marveling at the 25th Piplup on his screen, before starting the ignition to make your way towards the arcade. There he finally pockets his phone and drags you towards the nearest racing game, where you both duke it out in a Fast & Furious racing game, with you ultimately ending up as the winner after two rounds. Of course, you made sure to rub it in Seunghan’s face for a good three minutes, before he’s dragging you towards the claw machines like every arcade date out there. 

Amidst the presence of screaming children and tired parents chasing after them, Seunghan holds your hand as if it was second nature, the sight of his back a constant reminder that he’s not willing to lose you among the crowd and the dirty, soda and gum-flavored floor. 

You wonder if this is what it would have felt like had you been his girlfriend in high school. Sitting next to each other in class while trying to ignore your friends’ teasing remarks, partnering up for school projects, doing community service together, or buying snacks right after school and heading to the arcade. Then he’d walk you home, or depending when he got his license maybe drive you, and you’d ask him to text you back when he gets back home. The little things that make up being highschool sweethearts, or whatever the hell he experienced with his ex-girlfriend before they broke up. 

Fine, you’re jealous. You’ve always been jealous. But who doesn’t? You’ve always liked Seunghan—everyone knows that—and you’re aware that the missed opportunities you could’ve had with him over the last four years are a result of your own cowardice and lack of assertion, but what gives? After four years, you can finally have him? Just like that?

They say that a man who yearns is a man who earns, but now that he’s right next to you, on a literal date with you—why can’t you take it? 

Because you cling too much to the past. Do you still like him as much as you did before? 

You’ve always believed that liking someone for so long is a stupid thing, especially someone who wasn’t even available in the first place. Why cling to someone who can’t look at you the way you want them to? And yet you held out for hope anyway, clinging to the possibility that maybe someday Seunghan can look at you like how he did his ex all those years. That perhaps you had a chance with the boy who was one day partnered up with you and your friends for that one project in AP World History, and unknowingly becoming the object of your affections for the next three years and still into college. 

“Just focus on my awesome skills,” Seunghan exclaims, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel as he steps closer to the machine. “I’m gonna get you that Pikachu.” 

You roll your eyes. “Of course you choose the machine with the pokemons.” 

“This is who I am,” he simply responds after inserting the token, moving around the joystick to situate the claw exactly to where he wanted it to go. “And what I am is a Pokemon fan.” 

“You do know that these things are a scam, right?” you ask, stepping right next to him. 

Seunghan curses when the plushie falls out of the claw’s grasp. “It works out, sometimes. You just gotta have hope, you know?” 

You spare him a thoughtful look. Funny how he says that. 

He goes for three more rounds to no avail, the Pikachu plushie never budging from its place next to the Charmander. Seunghan feels as if they’re mocking him from within the glass, and he feels embarrassed, but he promised (in his head, at least) to get you that Pikachu no matter what. And he won’t go home until he does. 

What he doesn’t expect is for you to push him out of the way. “Move, you’re just wasting money,” you say, inserting a token into the slot as he tries to regain his senses. “I will get you that Pikachu.”

Seunghan stammers, moving closer to you as you maneuver the claw to align with the lone Pikachu in the corner, before confidently pressing on the button. “There’s no way that’s gonna work,” he says, eyeing the descending claw. “It’s too far.”

“Just watch,” you simper. 

Much to Seunghan’s surprise, the Pikachu plushie makes it all the way to the exit without a hitch. “What?” he exclaims in shock, watching as you crouch down to take the plushie from the machine, dust it off, and proceed to hand it to him with twinkling eyes. 

“Ta-da!” you exclaim, pushing it towards him. 

Seunghan snaps out of his reverie, handing it back to you. “Why are you giving it to me? I’m supposed to be giving it to you.” 

The side-eye you give him is almost scathing. “What, like the girl can’t give the guy a gift?” 

Seunghan flushes. “That’s not what I meant!” 

But you’re already laughing, inserting another token into the slot while he’s just helplessly holding onto the Pikachu plushie you won’t take. "Sure, you fake-progressive."

"I am very progressive."

He observes as you focus in on the Squirtle next to an Eevee, before changing your mind and going for the upside-down Bulbasaur. Within seconds, you manage to get it again. 

“What’s your secret?” he wonders, taking the plush when you hand it to him as you’re already inserting another token to get the Eevee. “Why are you so good at this? Who’s controlling you? Are you even real?” 

You don’t catch the Eevee this time. You’ve also run out of tokens. 

“Nevermind,” Seunghan says with a smile too wide for your liking. 

You remember back in tenth grade when you were complaining to Sunoo about the upcoming project for history because you simply didn’t want to do it when you had a Chemistry test to study for. Miraculously, you ended up getting grouped with some of your friends and another kid, Hong Seunghan. You thought he was cute, sure, but nothing else after that. He was just some kid who had a huge friend group consisting of six other guys, which somehow included your childhood friend Anton, and the only times you’ve thought about him was when he and his friends walked too slowly in the hallways for your liking. 

But then a day before the submission day of the project, you had forgotten to fulfill your part after getting too caught up with your other classes. Knowing Sunoo would never  forgive you for tanking his grade, you ended up panicking throughout lunch trying to research and paste together a comprehensible summary of your research, hoping that if the group wasn’t getting an A then you would at least get a B. After getting your sources printed out in the library, the only thing left to do was find whoever had the physical presentation, which had been Jaehyun, but then he told you he left it to someone else’s care. Just great, really. You’ll only have a few minutes in class to assemble it, but surely you’d manage, right? 

Wrong. Your frustrations finally caught up to you, and you felt like a ticking time bomb with your unpasted sources and incomplete project. Sunoo was gonna hate you for not even being able to finish something so simple, and you’d be letting down your whole group. Nothing was going right, and you were gonna fail. 

But just as you were about to burst into tears from the stress and resorting to fess up to Sunoo, Seunghan came jogging to you five minutes before lunch ended with the physical presentation in hand. He started apologizing for hogging it, but quickly paused once he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks at the relief of seeing that all was not lost. As you frantically wiped away your tears, he had awkwardly taken the printed sources from your hands and began pasting them into the decorated cardboard, aligning them with wherever they needed to be all the while attempting to comfort you. 

Thinking back on it now, it was a very embarrassing situation. None of that would have happened if you had simply stopped procrastinating and actually did your work, but you hated the prompt your group was given, which lowered your motivation as well. Stupid, but you were just a stupid fifteen-year-old, too. 

Yet you would never forget that very understanding group mate of yours. Seunghan didn’t have to comfort you while he did all the work of gluing and cropping the pages for you, but he did it anyway because he noticed your shaking hands. He could have told you off, said a sarcastic remark about your mishap, but he never did. He did the work and walked with you to class, even offering to buy you a drink from the vending machine to calm you down all with a smile on his face. It doesn’t take a genius to know that what he did was very kind and very attractive, so naturally you ended up forming  a crush on him. 

What you didn’t know was that it would take almost four years for you to make a proper move, albeit indirectly. But it’s the little things that matter. 

“I guess this is it,” Seunghan says after pocketing his keys, walking with you towards your dorm building’s entrance. “I had fun today, Y/N. But I guess I should thank Anton for this, huh? I mean, he was the one who made it possible,” he clasps his hands into a prayer and looks up at the night sky, “whoever made Anton drunk that night, thank you.” 

If only Seunghan didn’t smile at you that day, then you wouldn’t be this hopeless in front of him. 

You snort. “We’re not even of age to drink.” 

“You really think there wouldn’t be any alcohol at Gigi’s party?”

“Fair point,” you shrug, the both of you pausing by the entrance. You turn to him, a gentle smile on your face. “Thanks for the drive, Seunghan. Please take care of Pikachu and Bulbasaur, but since you’re a major Pokemon nerd I’m sure that isn’t an issue for you.” 

Seunghan chuckles, rubbing his nape. “You know me so well.” 

“I wish I knew more,” you joked. “All those years in high school and we’ve only had full conversations three times.” 

He falters. “Ah, yeah… What a waste, huh?” 

“Goodnight, Seunghan,” you say, quickly turning around to erase the image of him looking so awkwardly in front of you. Why’d you have to mention that on the first date? God, you must be some grade-A idiot or something because— 

“Y/N, wait.” 

You pause, trying to ignore the way Seunghan tried to grab your wrist K-Drama style only to end up missing it completely. He fumbles at first at his mistake, attempting to hide the heat quickly rising on his cheeks. “Even if Anton didn’t set us up,” he starts, slowly, trying to find your gaze, “I’d have still wanted to go on this date with you. You’re really fun to talk to, and to hang out with… and you’re also really good at claw machines.”

You smack his arm, and he cracks up a smile again. “Idiot, that’s all you have to say?” 

“It’s true, though! Those things are a scam!” he reasons, before clearing his throat. “But seriously, do you wanna go on another date next time? I really had fun with you. I promise I won’t try catching pokemons at the randomest times ever again, and I’ll try to get you that Eevee plushie next time. And you said that I’m a good driver, so maybe we can catch a drive-in movie or something… what do you think?” 

Hopefully you don’t notice how fast Seunghan’s heart is beating right now, but that’s probably only because yours is beating just as fast. 

You shove him away gently, and he sends you a smile as he waits for your response. “Well?” he goads, but he immediately fails to hide the surprise in his face when you hold up your phone screen in front of him. 

“We can drive around and catch some pokemons next time,” you say, before turning around and walking away. “Bye!” 

And Seunghan watches just until you’ve entered the building, before tripping on the way to his car. 

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY. pining after hong seunghan has always felt like an unachievable reality; however, just a few months into your first year of college, it seems that the gods have finally listened to your prayers when news breaks out that your long-time crush is single once again.

AUTHOR'S NOTES. idiots to lovers core

TAGLIST. @shoberi @miyawwn @starwonb1n @hwadejectedyoung @revehosh @alwayswook @rksbae @emohoon @nujeskz @ilovejungwonandhaechan @meowbini @nakam00t @siuewnb @cake1box @dearmarklee @kyusqult @snowyseungs @ffixtionista a @odxrilove e @hisrkive @saeist @lilysflower1 @seunghancore @eternallyhyucks @syzavxy @calumsfringe @yipyipmorals @user7520 @tojis-luver

[sophaeros]

arctic monkeys for clash magazine, april 2010

ON THE ROAD WITH… ARCTIC MONKEYS

Words by Simon Harper Photos by Jason Joyce

As Britain’s favourite band headed out on the European leg of their ‘Humbug’ tour, Clash discovered that Arctic Monkeys were less sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, and more cakes, ping-pong and Coco Pops…

The city of Offenbach, about twenty minutes south of Frankfurt, was once noted for its abundant leather industry, and is currently the base of the German weather service, but such claims don’t negate the fact that it’s basically a sterile, grey, typically German suburban borough. The arrival of a fleet of trucks and buses, carrying Arctic Monkeys, their crew and stage gear, heralded the notion that for one night only, Offenbach may just come alive with suitably bustling energy.

Offenbach’s Stadthalle is the smallest venue on the Monkeys’ three-week tour of Western Europe. The band have been through Portugal, Spain and France, and know how to kill time during the day while everyone works around them, building the stage for that night’s show. And so, when Clash finds them, upstairs in the Stadthalle’s back rooms, they’re in the middle of a fierce ping-pong match – the game scores being tallied up across the tour. The table, it transpires, is the band’s own, and follows them wherever they go. A set of football goals lie waiting for action, but the small white balls prove more enticing.

It’s a cold, February Tuesday, and these back rooms are where the band will spend the whole day.

Previous encounters with Arctic Monkeys have been somewhat tough – notoriously reticent and famously press-shy, there’s a tangible wall that surrounds them, which is seemingly hard to penetrate. Suspicious stares cut through you, while succinct answers frustrate you. Today, however, they couldn’t be more accommodating.

Clash sits with the quartet in the band-only room, where their personal equipment is kept in a vertical flight case of drawers, and a small fridge is at hand for cold beers. Nick O’Malley, Jamie Cook and Matt Helders sprawl on the leather couches, while Alex Turner perches on the table, often pacing the room, then escaping in search of a lighter. We’re here to talk about life on the road. What starts as an interview eventually descends into louche conversation; daft chat punctuated by much laughter. Perhaps they’re glad to see a friendly face; perhaps the monotony of touring makes them crave any respite; perhaps there’s nothing better to do in Offenbach.

Is being on tour like real life, or does it feel like you’re detached from what real life is?

Matt: It’s probably real life. It doesn’t seem like it’s too separate or miles away.

When you go home is that normality or is it just a continuation of what you do on the road?

Matt: I don’t find it hard to settle back and switch between the two.

Nick: You feel like you’re unemployed when you go home properly.

Like you’ve got nothing to do?

Nick: Yeah, or like if you’ve got a couple of weeks off.

Matt: Like school holidays.

Alex: Does that make this school then?

Matt: Yeah, but it’s like basketball camp or something you enjoy.

How do your friendships cope with life on the road? 

Matt: It’s fine.

Nick: Yeah. We know how to not annoy each other. We’ve never really had friction, because we’ve all got a similar outlook on how not to annoy people, I suppose, so there’s never really been any problems.

Alex: (Mock nastily) That’s what you think, mate.

Nick: (Laughs) I suppose if you see the same people every day, after a while you’re bound to get a bit annoyed, but as long as you keep in your mind that it’s just because of the situation and not because you don’t like the person, then you can kind of avoid outbursts that you might not mean. It’s never really been a problem so far.

Do you notice a huge cultural difference between touring Europe and America? 

Alex: Even between places in Europe. I mean, often, to be honest, certainly at this stage that we’re at, days like today aren’t uncommon, where you’re out of town and you don’t even really see where you are, as I’m sure you’re aware. But you can really tell the difference just in the show, from the crowd. We did Madrid and Barcelona over t’weekend, and last week Portugal, and they were really excitable and there was like a frenzy going on when we were playing. Whereas I think crowds elsewhere can be a bit more reserved, can’t they, depending on where it is. I reckon one of the best crowds on this tour was a gig we did last week in Porto. We’ve never played there before. There was this real appreciation or something just from the start. You can just sort of feel it, can’t you; ‘We’re all here to have a laugh’.

Alex lives in the States now. Have any of you considered moving to somewhere you’ve visited on tour?

Matt: Yeah. It’s good that you do get to see places that you might consider moving, like Berlin. I could imagine living there.

Does living apart make you appreciate each other more when you’re back together?

Jamie: [Long pause] Mmmm…yeah.

Gone are the days when you’re living round the corner from each other.

Alex: Yeah, I suppose that’s true. You’ve got to sort of organise to be in one place. I suppose that is a bit of an inconvenient drag.

Are there any essential items that you have to pack before you come out on tour?

Jamie: One of them rolly things that gets fluff of your coat. (All laugh)

Alex: I feel like you’re a lot better equipped than the rest of us with things like that.

Yeah, you’re looking very bobble-less.

Jamie: Ah, cheers. Yeah, I did it this morning actually. A quick roll.

Matt: A skipping rope – except I forgot it this time. I’ve lost mine.

Nick: DVDs, stuff like that.

A ping-pong table?

Jamie: A ping-pong table is essential actually. I don’t think we’d go on tour without that.

Alex: Some kind of series…

Matt: A box-set.

Alex: Kinda really discovered that this last year. It was summat I’d never really got into before.

Nick: Any HBO series.

Alex: (Laughs) Yeah. I’ve really learned to appreciate that sort of continuum, because you can follow a thread.

Matt: You know what you need to do the next day.

What have you been watching?

Alex: We’ve got into Deadwood a bit on the last tour. That’s what’s been missing, I think, for me on this tour, some sort of thing like that.

Have you done The Wire?

Alex: Yeah.  I went Wire mad on that tour. I just got so greedy. I get so greedy with them things.

Matt: I couldn’t catch up.

Jamie: Yeah, he ditched everyone. I got ditched on t’second series!

Matt: Six in t’morning, I could hear him.

Jamie: You’d get up and that [theme] song would be on. It’d just be crisps all over, a bottle of…

Nick: ‘Wire Beast’s been up all night again!’

Alex: ‘Where’d you get that dressing gown from?’

Jamie: Just laying there with crumbs all over him.

Have you ever had any scares at customs? 

Nick: I got searched yesterday actually.

Matt: It was your squeaky wheels, just as I’d said. I said, ‘Them wheels are gonna attract attention.’

Nick: In Germany. A very thorough search, but luckily no glove action.

Jamie: They probably wanted to mend your wheels for you.

Matt: ‘I’ve got summat for that, some GT85.’

Nick: They were really suspicious of me. They really took everything apart and didn’t put it back as neat as I’d put it in.

Alex: At this end, yesterday?

Nick: Yeah, when we arrived in ‘Munchen’.

Alex: They’re quite, like, strict, aren’t they, Bavarian authorities.

Nick: Yeah. They had a look at me belt, everything. All me case and bag. Took everything apart. Then he were like, ‘Where have you come from?’ I went, ‘Barcelona’. He were like, ‘Have you had any contact with drugs in Barcelona?’ I went, ‘No.’ He went, ‘What do you do?’ I said, ‘I’m in a band.’ And he went, ‘Ah’, and then, like, swabbed everything.

Alex: When I got in t’car yesterday, the fella were like, [German accent] ‘If you like to do drugs, do not try and do it in Bavaria.’

American customs scare me most. 

Matt: Yeah, it’s a load of questions.

Alex: ‘What are you doing here?’

Jamie: New Zealand were quite funny. We all got pulled…

Matt: We had to sit in them chairs for a bit…

Jamie: And this guy was asking us directly the last time we ever did drugs. Then someone came over who worked for us…and he soon disappeared rather fast. We were fine. (All laugh)

Alex: I’ve come to quite enjoy the American customs people. (All laugh)

Matt: They’ve always got weird names.

Alex: They’re like, [American accent] ‘So you’re in a band, huh?’ You go, ‘Yeah, yeah.’ ‘What do you do in the band?’ ‘Oh, I’m the singer.’ ‘Yeah? You don’t look like a singer to me.’

Nick: ‘Do you sound like Coldplay?’

Alex: Yeah, ‘What kind of music do you guys play?’

Jamie: ‘Do you sound like Staind?’ I went like, ‘Staind? I know them… Fuckin’ hell!’ It took me ages. ‘Yeah, yeah, we sound a bit like Staind.’ When he said it I were like, ‘Yeah, a bit.’

You’ve said before that you wanted to try and get an album out this year. Do you get any time on the road to do any work on that?

Alex: Not really. That’s a bit of a pain in the arse, not being able to rehearse and work stuff out. I don’t think I write very good songs on t’road. They’re all a bit wonky. You get back and you’re like, ‘Hmmm’.

Does it detach you from what we were talking about earlier, ‘real life’? Does it detach you from the things that you want to be writing about?

Alex: I dunno. You can still use your imagination, but I just think, yeah, in your surroundings there’s always about to be something that’s going to happen. You can’t think. I always write wherever I am, but I dunno if the things that come out when you’re touring around always have the shelf life that the other things do.

Have you got any songs earmarked for the next album?

Alex: Yeah. I mean, there’s some ideas, but we haven’t really had the chance to get out the fine toothed comb.

‘Humbug’ was a departure in sound from your previous albums – do you think you’ll continue in that direction, maybe bring Josh Homme in again?

Alex: Not sure, really. We would like to do something with Josh again – it was terrific for us to go on that adventure – but whether or not it’s this next thing, I’m not sure. And also, like, he’s busy! (Laughs) He’s got a schedule himself, doesn’t he?

You went to record over in his place, so do you think next time you’ll have him over to...

Alex: High Green? (Laughs) Homme in High Green? I quite fancy that.

Nick: He’d look like a superhero in High Green, all the bad genetics there are in High Green. He’d look amazing.

Matt: He’d be the biggest man there.

You’ve released a couple of singles exclusively through Oxfam. What made you decide to do that? 

Jamie: Laurence and Jonny at Domino came to us with that idea – a great idea for the charity reason, and then cos Woolworths and stuff had shut down, but there were always an Oxfam.

Alex: Like, in towns where there perhaps aren’t, like, an Our Price or something.

Do you have to think of more creative ways to get your records out there?

Jamie: Yeah, rather than just sat at home.

Matt: They should think about making the journey exciting – paint paths a nice colour to the record shops.

Alex: The yellow brick road.

Matt: Something that makes people want to walk to a record shop. Even if it’s just free parking. (All laugh)

Jamie: It’s just too easy to buy music now.

How do you feel as artists about the devaluing of music? Does it annoy you that you’re working hard to make something, but people can just pick it up from their friends?

Jamie: I suppose we were never in the industry when it were big money, when people used to sell twenty million albums. Has that ever happened since we’ve been around?

Probably someone like Dido has.

Jamie: Yeah, that were probably the last.

Matt: It’s like, we wouldn’t expect anything like that to happen to us, so…

Alex: I do think there is people that always will want to go and get records.

Matt: Yeah, it won’t change everybody.

Alex: I was reading a couple of months ago about there’s an idea where you won’t even have – you know like you pull songs off iTunes or whatever – but they were saying you subscribe to a database and pay to get ’em…

Jamie: Spotify, that’s what that was.

Alex: Yeah. But you can’t get them on…

It streams the music – you can’t download them.

Alex: But you can’t do that on your phone, can you?

Matt: Yeah, you can do Spotify on your phone if you pay about £10 a month. Nokia did that thing where you can just pay a monthly thing and you can have as many as you want…

Alex: The fella had a quote, he’s like, ‘There’s nothing sexy about an MP3 on your desktop’. (Laughs) He’s like, ‘There’s nothing sexy about having a subscription to a database’. (All laugh) But then you could just sort of buy a record and stand it up against your wall. Not that that’s particularly sexy, but, you know what I mean… I like things that you can stand up.

Jamie: Like you said the other day, everyone’s just gonna have an empty house.

Matt: Yeah, there’s gonna be nothing on t’shelves. Not even books now.

Jamie: No one’s got any photos anymore, no ones’s got any CDs or records…

Matt: You’ll just have a screen and a chair.

Jamie: You’ll just go, ‘Sound. This is sound.’

Matt: With nowt on your wall.

Jamie: You can just have everything [at your fingertips]; turn your fire on, open your curtains…

Alex: You’d get in it for your bath. (All laugh)

[Alex goes into the band’s equipment drawer, pulls out a giant figure of Freddie Mercury in full-on rock pose. “See, he said he likes things that stand up,” Matt says.]

Does being on an independent label give you the freedom to experiment with your marketing or promotions? 

Matt: Yeah. They [Domino] have as many ideas as us for stuff like that, like the Oxfam thing. They tend to think on a similar level, and, at the same time, if we have a suggestion, they’re open to it. It sometimes is a good thing to have a label like Domino, cos they’re experienced in doing weird stuff, and have obviously signed things that aren’t necessarily to make any money or anything, so we’ll listen to them if they have a suggestion, and vice versa. They’d put records out on tins of beans and all sorts. (All laugh)

Jamie: I wanted to do it on a conifer. I wanted to put an MP3 out on a conifer.

Matt: Or just seeds. Christmas tree seeds.

Alex: Yeah. What did they actually do?

Matt: There’s a Jewish guy, I forgot what his name is, and they did it on a kosher chicken noodle soup or something. You buy the soup and you get the code [for the MP3]. Which is good in a way, because he’s just poo-pooing the fact that there’s not much point. It’s an incentive, but it doesn’t get it in the chart, you see. It’s a give-away. So you can sell anything and just have an MP3 code on it. You can sell a car and you’d just get one song.

Jamie: But then it doesn’t count towards t’charts?

Matt: No. The Oxfam thing don’t either, does it. Only the download bit does. You’re not allowed to give away incentives like free stuff, because that’s obviously encouraging people. See, that’s the thing – people might buy the soup and not download the song. ‘I wonder if they make good soup?’

Jamie: When you see a good cover sometimes…

Matt: Yeah, you buy it for the cover.

Alex: Perhaps the epitome of that is you buying a Lady Gaga picture disc. (Laughs)

Matt: Yeah, I did. I’ve been a fool.

Alex: It’s great, cos she’s wearing like a fuckin’ box of Coco Pops or something. (Laughs)

Matt: You could buy that Freddie Mercury thing and get a Queen album, for instance. You don’t need to put it on or owt.

Jamie: You want to make it awkward.

Matt: Buy a chair. Buy a flat pack piece of furniture and you get a code for an album.

Jamie: You have to put your furniture up and send a picture to someone, then they send you the MP3.

Alex: That would make a good video: playing in a bowl of Coco Pops. (All laugh) Remember that kids programme where they used to have to go swimming in a bowl of cereal…

Jamie: Ah yeah. Didn’t they used to do something like that on The Big Breakfast?

Matt: They did, yeah.

Jamie: It were a massive cup of tea and you used to have to get the sugar lumps…

Matt: Yeah, yeah, that was it: One Lump Or Two.

Jamie: One Lump Or Two, yeah!

Alex: It would be great: kid comes down, he’s having his breakfast – Coco Pops – and then, like, Arctic Monkeys are in his cereal. (All laugh)

Jamie: Hot milk, though.

Matt: Hot milk in t’afternoon.

Alex: (Laughs) ‘Why not try Coco Pops after school?’

Jamie: (Laughs) I love that advert!

Alex: It’s the best!

Do your fans give you CDs of their bands?

Matt: They throw them on t’stage! Imagine if you got one of them in t’eye! Fuckin’ hell! Remember in America, a kid got on stage and he had a handful [of CDs] and someone had to grab him to get him off, but he threw them. So he were getting pulled away and he threw them.

Alex: I’ve been getting less CDs though…

Matt: Now they’re throwing download cards at you!

Alex: I got a pair of underpants…

Jamie: People are chucking downloads at you. You’re like, ‘What the fuck?’

Matt: People are throwing zeroes and ones at you – it’s like the credits of The Matrix!

Jamie: You can’t get any flick on a download.

Alex: They’re chucking Spotifys at me. Maybe that’s what them pants were – some sort of code.

I think it’d be a totally different sort of code! Do you listen to the music that fans give you?

Matt: I listened to one that someone gave me the other day. It just were at home though, he just gave it me.

Alex: No more than I’d wear that pair of pants! (Laughs)

Matt: It were just convenient – I were getting in me car and there’s a CD player there.

What’s the strangest thing a fan has given you?

Matt: Just in Japan – everything you get is weird! Like, a monkey hat – it left your own face in but it’s got ears and a tail.

Jamie: And sweets.

Matt: A lot of sweets.

Jamie: We once said, ‘Oh, we like these sweets’ in an interview…

Nick: There’s someone that makes baked goods.

Matt: You got a good one, where it were like a picture of you…

Alex: Yeah, I got like a diagram of myself…

Matt: A diagram, pointing at every bit, and then asking to fill in, like, what his favourite brand of jeans were.

Alex: Hand it back, and then she’d sort of kit me out.

Matt: She’d buy it all! So, like, ‘Favourite shoes? Trainers or boots?’ It would be like that. He’d fill it in and send it back and then she’d buy it. ‘Will this do?’

Alex: Back it came with this jumper that were perfect actually. She really knew me better than I knew meself.

Nick: With baked goods, I know it’s not [spiked], but you never know… It’s probably fine – it’s more than likely fine – but it is a gamble.

Matt: It’s innocent, but someone might have seen that opportunity.

Jamie: I don’t think I’m ever gonna eat a baked good that some stranger’s made. You learn about that. There is a story there…

What’s the first thing you do when you get home after the tour is finished? 

Nick: See your friends and family that you’ve not seen.

Matt: I go and get my photos developed. That’s actually one of the first things I do.

Alex: I usually pick up me guitar. Honestly. It’s a deep breath.

Later that evening, Clash is back in the ping-pong room. The tour manager comes to break bad news to the band - the curtain at the front of the stage is broken. They won't be able to make their usual grand entrance. "Ah, we've got to do it," grins Alex. Do what? "We've been saying on this tour if ever the curtain doesn't work, we've got to go on to this song." Which song? "Black Eyed Peas’ ‘I Gotta Feelin’’," Alex beams. The band are giddily bouncing around, electrified by the prospect of taking the stage to the song that's soundtracked many a menopausal vodka-stained Saturday evening's preparatory gathering.

“But when do we go on?" Matt asks.

"The rap. We gotta wait for the rap," Alex asserts.

"We should wait until "Mazel tov”,” Jamie smirks.

Ten minutes later, Clash is amidst the Offenbach crowd when the lights go out and the song bursts from the PA. A wave of euphoria swells, the irony not lost, and right on cue, just as the Peas declare, "I know that we'll have a ball", the four Monkeys stride towards their instruments.

The nineteen-song set covers their three albums - with Nick Cave's 'Red Right Hand’ thrown in for good measure. The last song before their encore is 'Secret Door’ from 'Humbug’. Just as Matt cracks the snare drum that launches the song's long psychedelic outro, cannons on the roof blast out gold and silver confetti over the joyous crowd below, proving that the Monkeys aren't averse to a bit of showmanship every now and then.

The after party is a subdued affair (well, in Offenbach it's bound to be!), with just the band, some friends, crew, and Clash, diving into the beer and nibbles on offer. A fairly drunken chat with Alex about Johnny Cash, Billie Holiday and Gram Parsons rounds off our time with the band, as they retreat back to the confines of their bus, about to depart for Dusseldor and their next gig.

Such a welcome and warm atmosphere is often rare backstage, especially with a band as celebrated as this, but the Monkeys - ever changing and ever surprising - are beginning to make a habit of defying expectations. Growing up has never been such fun.

[good-griief]

Hii! Could you maybe try to write something about sexting Abby while she's at work? Thanks💗

guess whos back!!! goodness this is late but i hope you enjoy<33

For some reason, despite Abby saying she couldn’t work nights, her boss had put out a schedule where she was only working late shifts. It was early enough that it wasn’t “nights”, so she couldn’t protest, but it was late enough that she often had to stay later due to someone calling in or some tasks taking an obscene amount of time. 

She was pissed, to say the least. 

And you were missing your nights with her. 

Usually, with this new schedule, if she ran overtime she’d get home around 8:00 or 8:30, but it was getting to be 9. 

You were in bed, watching a movie when you called her. The phone rang a few times, and just as you were going to hang up and assume she was driving, she picked up. 

“I’m leaving soon,” she answered.

“Abs, you’re supposed to be done by seven. It’s—“

“I know what time it is,” she was quick to say. “I had meetings all day, so I didn’t have any time to get anything done. I’m finishing up now, okay?”

“You couldn’t have just left after your meetings?” She didn’t answer, but since sounded so stressed, voice gritted and tired, you left it alone. “Alright. Is it okay if I eat without you, then?” You asked her. “I’m getting tired.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?” You could hear her click something on her computer before her chair squeaked, the sound of her leaning back to give you her full attention. 

“I always wait to have dinner with you.” She was quiet. “How much do you have left?”

There was a faint clicking and typing in the background before she sighed. “You should eat.” You pursed your lips, your silence letting her know you were irritated. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She then hung up. 

You weren’t going to eat without her just yet, so you kept your movie on. By the time it was over, it’d been an hour with still no sign of Abby. 

That was when you decided to eat, dishing up for yourself and leaving a serving for your girlfriend before putting away the leftovers and beginning to eat. 

You fell asleep shortly after, leaving Abby to come home to a dark house and her cold meal waiting on the table. 

She brought it to bed with her, which was where she found you fast asleep.

The next morning, you woke up with no sign of Abby except for a note. 

Went in early so I could get home for dinner. 

It was brief, straight to the point, and aggravating. First, she stays after her meetings, and now she leaves early. Of course, you could tell she felt bad about missing dinner, but that was the least of your concerns. 

You were determined to make her just as frustrated as you were. 

That started with a shower. With this new schedule, you’d usually take one with her in the morning, so you didn’t want her to miss out. Which, of course, was why you brought your phone in with you, taking a video that you sent to your girlfriend before turning on music and finishing your shower. 

When Abby’s phone pinged, she knew it was you, as you were the only contact that got through her ‘do not disturb’. She had her co-worker, Manny, stop what they were doing in case it was important. 

When she immediately went red, he laughed loudly. “I take it she’s had enough of this new schedule?” He asked, raising a brow as Abby stared at her screen. “Abby—“

“Huh?” She snapped her head up. “Oh… Uh, she…” She swallowed, quickly thinking of something. “Made my favorite breakfast?”

Manny laughed even more, waving her off. “If you need to get home—“

“No, no, I’ll end up with an even shittier schedule next month.” She took another glance down at her phone before pocketing it. 

When you didn’t get the reply you wanted, you decided to keep going. There was no way she didn’t see it, which meant she was trying to ignore it, and that only egged you on. 

Another ping came from Abby’s phone during a meeting, putting the useless meeting on pause. 

“Sorry,” she said. “Girlfriend’s at home, sick,” she quickly came up with. “I should check if it’s important.” She excused herself when Isaac shooed her away, heading to the bathroom to see what you could’ve possibly sent her now. As soon as she saw the toy on the floor and your thighs on either side she closed the video. 

incoming message abby🤍

You giddily picked up your phone, only to roll your eyes.

that's enough. 

you don’t like it?

Her typing bubble appeared and disappeared several times, making you chuckle as you waited for her to compose herself. When it disappeared for several moments, you gave her a little nudge.

take your time

Almost immediately, she replied.

don’t do that. 

you know what you do to me…

i can’t even watch those right now baby. i won’t be able to focus.

You had a feeling that all she was doing was watching those videos. Especially with how long she took to respond to you.

focus on me then

i need you right now

you know if i could come home i would...

this isn’t fair. 

what isn’t fair?

don’t do this right now. 

Her next message made you smile, knowing you had her wrapped around your finger if she really left a meeting to check what she knew would be a distraction.

i’m in the middle of a meeting. 

Just as she went to put her phone away, it chimed again. 

i missed you this morning abs. 

woke up alone. 

that wasn’t very fair to me. 

Again, she typed and stopped. You figured she was trying not to start something while she was taking a "bathroom break" during a meeting, but you knew she'd never not reply to you.

i’ll make it up to you. 

i have to go now angel. 

but when?

tonight. 

promise. 

i want you now

need you

Her short messages made you squeeze your thighs, knowing she was pent up and forcing herself not to respond the way she wanted to.

baby

come on

i can’t do this right now

So, you took the opportunity to make her have to do this now.

please? nothing makes me feel like you do

i’m so wet and i can’t fucking finish abs.. not without you

i need you

how many times will you make me say it? i’ll beg if you want me too abby please

It took her a little while to respond, making you think she'd either shut off her phone, or you took too long to type and she went back to her meeting.

In reality, she'd gone back some time ago, and was incessantly checking her phone while crossing her legs under the table.

She had the tendency to try and challenge herself, but clearly this— you were too much for her.

fuck okay

i’ll try to get home

just give me a few minutes 

you can wait for me can’t you?

She was quick to tell everyone how you needed her at home, leaving her friends to laugh in their seats as she excused herself while keeping an eye on her phone.

just tell me what to do

you don’t even have to come home

i’ll show you everything 

i’ll be good

be good and wait for me to come home. 

there’s no way i’m letting you touch yourself if i’m not there to watch. 

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. coworkers. friends? lovers ♡

requested: vox x fem! reader, what if the reader got shot during the extermination and vox found them (but I tweaked it), injured prompt: “Steady, steady. That’s it. Just hold on to me. Good girl.”

type: headcanon/scenario

content: friends w/ benefits or situationship (up to interpretation, could go either way), soft/protective vox, blood, wound treating, vulnerable vox

note: this is not edited or proof read, so typos expected

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Heaven has the biggest balls to shorten a once a year of getting fucking hacked down into two giant fucks yous. Screw hell, right?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Everyone had six months to prepare for this shit show of an excuse to massacre sinners, orchestrated by literal serial killer angels because let’s call them what they are sera, please. But you, of course, are running a little behind to get outta dodge.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Just because a large percentage of its habitants were literally dying by angels does not mean business just stops. Power doesn’t stop for no one, not even this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི If you don't show up and do your job, you’ll never hear the end of it—especially not from Vox. Given he was your boss, that was what he was entitled to do. But that didn’t make it any better knowing that he gets to sit with the vees in one of their fancy penthouses while this all goes down and you're stuck finishing up some quotas.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Even as you complete your duties, Vox is texting you nonstop. It’s a little all over the place for someone like him: calling you good girl for your job well done, telling you to get to cover real soon, that you better not stop texting him, text him back when you get somewhere safe, yada yada yada.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Serves you right for fucking him one time…six times. Alright, you lost count. It was a complete accident—the first time. You were having a really stressful day. The day was starting to blur together after hearing some bad news. Before you knew it, your sucking faces with your boss after something he said made you frustrated, but in the best way. Now he thinks he’s entitled to your time even outside of work.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི After that, you’ve kinda been doing it whenever stress overwhelmed you, which was often. Sometimes you’re convinced in thinking Vox piles a crap load of work onto you just to have you ride him silly during your break in his office.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You scoff at his behavior with an eye roll, darting into an alleyway, a shortcut to your hiding space before shooting him a curt text back. Mainly outta respect for yourself and your sanity, you try to keep it as close to professional as possible but it was hard when he pulls dumb crap like this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Pausing briefly in the shadows, you spot an angel causing havoc in the area before flying away. You quickly slip across the street, through the main entrance of the building and up to one apartment you call your own. Only when you lock all possible locks and shut your blinds, do you feel relaxed enough to lean back against the kitchen window seat to text Vox, letting him know you're safe.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Never did you expect to find your window to shatter seconds later, an angel spear stabbed into your thigh. The pain was instantaneous, you want to cry out but you slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as your eyes darts out the window, petrified to see that angel from earlier fighting someone right outside.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You drop to the floor, losing your phone in the process as you crawl yourself away from the window, whimpering pathetically to the bathroom to lock yourself inside and hide there until the extermination ends. There was so much blood already lost, you could feel yourself grow weaker as you lean against the tube. Sleep consumed you a few minutes in.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི While unconscious, your phone was pinging back to back, texts from a very unhappy Vox. He told you to not stop texting him. To text him when you’re safe—he knows damn sure he did, for fuck, he was staring right at his words but for whatever fucking reason you didn’t listen. Why were you like this?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He couldn’t even pay attention to Alastor getting his ass handed to him, a historical moment, for his eyes were glued to his phone, waiting for those three dots to appear. When it didn’t show, he left the area for the security room, ignoring the Vees' questions.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Vox zaps his phone to a bigger screen, patience wearing thin when you still haven’t replied back during his short walk over. It was strumming the line of worry, something he hasn’t felt since he was alive, and it makes him sick. His stomach turns further when he can’t find you on any of the many cameras he has through the city.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You're forcing his hand as he opens a spyware app. He normally doesn’t have to do this, never had a reason until now. But you weren’t responding, and never had he known you not to respond to him. May it be one worded or a full rant reply, you always did.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Your location says home. That’s a little relief shaved off the top of his worries. You're safe; the part of town you live barely gets touched during any extermination. But there was always a chance, giving him enough cause to zap himself into your living room via tv.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Thank God he did show up when he did. He could see the shattered window inside your kitchen from his position, phone abandoned on the floor. Eyes noticing a trail of blood leading off into a direction. He follows it to the bathroom, where he bangs rapidly, calling out your name. Like the text messages, he receives no response.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He knocks the hinges off your flimsy door with one shoulder slam, eyes widen in shock at seeing you there unconscious, spar still in your thigh. Cursing, he reaches down and checks your pulse, exhaling sharply when there is one and slaps your face to wake you up.

“Hey… wake up… open your eyes for me.” Vox slaps a little harder after the light taps weren’t working, pleased to see your (color) eyes peel open to lock with his, “Yeah. Keep them open for me, sweetheart.”

He shifts his weight to glance down at your thigh, contemplating his next move. He wasn’t a fucking doctor, he didn’t know how to tend to injuries this size—especially one from an angel—but it was either help you or let you bleed out and he couldn’t bring himself to do the latter. Not when he went out of his way to check on you. It’ll be a waste of his time.

He leans down further, grabbing your arm to wrap around his shoulders, “Steady, Steady.” he whispers, reaching under your legs to pick you up, another arm supporting your lower back. He nods when you fist his shirt, “That’s it. Just hold on to me.” he murmurs against your head when it rolls heavily to rest on his chest, “Good girl.”

Hoisting you both up so he’s standing at full height, he maneuvers his way around your place with trial and error until he finds your bedroom. Placing you gently on the bed, he rushes back to the bathroom, yanking open drawers and cabinets until he finds an unused first aid kit. He peels it open as he returns back to your room, swiping the half empty bottle of alcohol on your kitchen table on the way.

Your eyes practically pop out your head when he grabs the spear, Vox looking at with a gentle expectant expression, “Might wanna bite on to something?” is all he says before slowly pulling the spar out.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི The pain was worse than when it got forced in your thigh that you were shaking your head with pleas for him to stop, lip quivering as you held his wrist tightly. It hurt so much you weren’t thinking straight, couldn’t wrap your head around why he was doing this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You were pissing him off, with your stupid tears and pleading for him to stop and then actually grabbing onto him to stop him. Can’t you see he was trying to help you? That he cares enough to want to make you feel better? That it will get better if you just stop all your wailing.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི With a growl he slams his mouth into yours, eating up all the screams you release once he yanks out the spar in one pull. He moves his mouth against yours, only to distract you, only until your screams turn to whimpers. Then he’s pulling away, undoing his belt to wrap it around your thigh to stop the bleeding.

The alcohol doesn’t hurt as much when he pours it over your wound. By then you are already all cried out, reduced to sniffling as he wraps you in gauze and bandages. “I need a hospital..” you mutter, voice hoarse from the screaming. “I don’t want to die again.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Vox curses, finishing his wrapping before moving to lie beside you, wrapping a protective arm around you, face serious as he says, “You don’t get one. Not right now, not until the extermination is over. I’m all you got. Okay?” his gaze softens a large degree at the worried expression on your face. He reaches up, guiding you to look at him by your chin, “Hey… you got me… I won’t let you die.” he says, pecking you on your lips as if to seal the deal.

rules, masterlist

[avatar-anna]

Love Games

summary: in which harry and y/n navigate having a secret relationship

young dad!harry, part of this / this universe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Never have I ever had a song written about me.”

“Never have I ever made out with someone twice my age.”

“Never have I ever hooked up with a fan.”

With each prompt given, Harry was forced to give the answer that would best fit his image. Everyone laughed or cheered when he revealed that he had in fact done those things, which made the lunch Y/n had an hour earlier curdle in her stomach.

She knew it was all lies, that he’d never done any of those things—unless she counted as a fan—and that this was all part of his carefully curated popstar persona. The real truth was PR stunts and fake dates that made Harry seem a certain type of way to the general public. The truth was that Harry was that Harry wasn’t the womanizer everyone thought he was. The truth was he was the father of a two year old who he helped potty train and taught new words and sang lullabies to. Harry Styles wasn’t who he was portrayed to be, Y/n knew that, but something she couldn’t put a name to irritated her about the game, the questions, and Harry’s answers.

Because another truth was that Harry spent a lot of time on the road. He was handsome, talented, rich, and popular. And Y/n knew that even if those who wanted him knew about her and the daughter she and Harry had, they would still throw themselves at him. Who was to say that after an argument over the phone or if he was just feeling particularly lonely that he didn’t seek the comfort of someone else while she was home with Simone?

It was a terrible thing to think, but rumors about Harry being in a relationship with a model were running rampant the last few days. Rumors about Harry dating someone were always running rampant. Y/n normally didn’t give tabloids and gossip sites much thought, but for some reason it was all getting to her.

“Mumma? Hold you?”

Looking away from the hotel TV—because you couldn’t actually go to the live taping without raising suspicion—she mustered a smile for Simone. “Of course, love bug.”

Y/n swept Simone up into her arms and sat her on her lap. The two year old watched the screen, eyes never leaving it until the commercial break. She clapped and smiled and pointed, reaching her little arms out as if Harry could push through the screen and grab her.

“See Daddy now?” Simone asked, confused as to why she couldn’t see him anymore.

“Soon, baby,” Y/n responded.

And almost like he could sense them talking about him, Y/n’s phone pinged with a new message.

him <3: be back in twenty minutes!

Y/n knew it wasn’t his fault, and she knew that none of what he admitted to was true, but she couldn’t shake her doubts like she normally could. So she gave him a simple “ok” and turned her phone over. She looked down at Simone, who she could always rely on to cheer her up.

Her daughter’s face was the perfect mix of her and Harry. She had Y/n’s nose and Harry’s wide green eyes, her pouty lips and his deep dimples. She was too cute not to smile at, Y/n often found. Harry traveled the world, but hers was right here in her arms.

“How about some room service? You want chicken nuggets, bug?”

Simone nodded enthusiastically, and Y/n put the order in soon after.

When Harry came back to the hotel room, his bandmates followed, bringing all their usual noise and chaos. Some days Y/n would kick them out because she was trying to put Simone down for a nap, but the little one was still happily munching on cut up pieces of chicken, so she didn’t mind as much.

“Little Styles!”

Harry, Louis, Liam, and Niall all came into the room, crowding around Simone’s high chair. Simone smiled up at the boys, but it was her dad she reached for. He quickly took her out of the high chair so he could pick her up so the boys could play with her, and Y/n saw that as an opportunity to step away. She wasn’t sure if Harry knew she was upset, but she didn’t know if she could fake being fine either way. So while everyone fawned over Simone, Y/n slipped into the bathroom.

Her and Simone’s hotel room was standard—two full beds next to each other, one bath, a TV mounted on the wall, a small desk. Harry had a suite a few floors above them to not raise any questions as to why he would need a high chair or anything remotely baby related sent up to his room. As far as the hotel was concerned, Y/n and Simone were guests completely separate from Harry Styles and the rest of One Direction.

That notion squeezed Y/n’s heart uncomfortably too. She didn’t need to be in a suite or anything fancy like that, but she hated the way Harry’s management treated her and Simone. They couldn’t go to his shows, or they could, but Y/n couldn’t hold Simone so as not to raise suspicion about a young mother backstage at a One Direction concert. Any time spent together as a family was inside a hotel room—hers, never his. And absolutely no dates or staying the night.

Things hadn’t always been like this, but Harry explained that after Zayn left, the leash had been tightened on all the boys. There would be no room for error on anyone’s part, especially nothing as big as a baby scandal.

Y/n never said it to Harry, but sometimes she was selfishly grateful for the hiatus One Direction were taking soon. She didn’t want to announce to the world that she was Harry’s long-time girlfriend and mother of his two year old daughter, but she just didn’t want to feel suffocated like this anymore, or feel like there were people on Harry’s team who despised her and Simone for just existing.

Tears were on Y/n’s cheeks before she even realized it, the pinch of cold on the tracks they left behind being the only indication. She hastily wiped them away, knowing Harry or one of the boys would eventually notice her absence and come looking for her. Once she felt like she’d composed herself, she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out. Liam, Louis and Niall were on their way to the door when she shuffled out of the bathroom, all of them awarding her with big hugs and warm smiles.

“You okay?” Louis asked quietly so no one but Y/n could hear him.

She nodded wordlessly, but he gave her a comforting squeeze on the shoulder and a tender smile before leaving the room with the other two boys. Of all the boys—besides Harry, of course—she’d become the closest to Louis.

The door clicked shut, and there was silence. Walking down the short hall, she reached the main space of the hotel room to find Simone back in her high chair and Harry feeding her. Y/n’s body filled with warmth at the sight, making her almost forget about all the things she’d felt the last couple hours.

She hadn’t made much noise, but Harry looked over to where she was standing. “Hey. Everything alright?”

“No, not really, but I don’t want to talk about it in front of her,” Y/n said with a smile.

“Do you want me to ask one of the boys to watch her while we talk in my room?”

She couldn’t keep the bite out of her voice as she replied, “I didn’t realize I was allowed to be in your room.”

Harry sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face. He’d grown up so much since Y/n first met him, and yet he still looked so young. If she didn’t know him, she would never guess he was a dad, and she suspected Harry would say the same.

She wondered what life would’ve been like for the both of them if they’d never met, if they hadn’t been so careless one night. This life was difficult at times, and frustrating at others, but Y/n would put up with all of this again if it meant having Simone, but she did wonder.

“Of course you are,” Harry said, but he didn’t sound sure. Because the truth was he didn’t actually know if Y/n was allowed to be in his suite. Sometimes she thought Harry’s management worried that leaving the two of them alone for too long would result in another pregnancy, but no one ever said that was the reason, of course. “Y/n, can we please talk—”

“I—I think I just need some air. Can you watch her for a little?” she ended up saying.

Y/n could tell that Harry wanted to talk about whatever it was that was bothering her, but he didn’t try to stop her. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

“Text me if you need anything,” was all she said before she left.

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

Harry knew he was in hot water, he just couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

The comment about being allowed into his hotel suite gave him a pretty good idea, but it seemed like it was more than that. He knew that Y/n put up with a lot, that being holed up with a two year old like this all the time wasn’t easy, but usually they were able to talk through their issues and come to a resolution together. But Y/n seemed so distant before she left. It made Harry incredibly nervous.

He loved Y/n with every fiber of his being. She was his best friend and greatest confidant, she supported him and cheered him on as he achieved so much, and was there for him whenever it all became too much. She was the first person he told about Zayn leaving, had listened to him rant and complain and try to make sense of one of his closest friends keeping such deep struggles a secret. She was everything to him, he just hoped she knew that.

“More please.”

Harry’s thundercloud of thoughts cleared for Simone, his mouth immediately forming a smile. “More?” he asked, pretending to be astounded. “You want more?”

Simone nodded, the curls on her forehead bouncing with the movement. Harry was going to cut up another piece of chicken for her anyway, but that smile would’ve sealed the deal.

When she was done eating, Harry took her out of the high chair and set her on the floor to play with some of her toys. He kept a watchful eye, knowing there was plenty of things in the hotel room a toddler could get into but shouldn’t. But she just sat on the floor and played with her plastic magnets, stacking them together and making new shapes. Harry sat with her, marveling at her creations when she showed them off and helping her build a tower just to knock them down.

Y/n found them sitting together when she came back to the room, feeling a little better than she had when she left. Harry didn’t say anything as she sat down next to him, though a wave of relief washed over him when she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Sometimes I just wish it was all over now and we didn’t have to deal with all of this, you know?” she breathed, watching Simone play with her toys.

“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing there wasn’t much else he could say. A lot of her stress was because of him.

Despite her best efforts, she sniffled. “I just hate the constant rumors and people thinking you’re available to be hit on or flirted with. And I know you would never cheat on me. I know that, but sometimes when it’s constantly in my face I can’t help but…” Y/n didn’t finish that thought, they both knew what she wasn’t saying. “And when it’s all over, I don’t even get the comfort of you holding me at night because—because—”

Harry did his best to hold her despite the angle they were sitting at. At first he was hurt at the implication that she thought he would ever cheat on her, but he wasn’t quite sure how he would handle everything if the roles were reversed. The fact that she was still here, still talking to him, meant more than words could describe.

“I—I’m yours, Y/n,” he said softly, but not without conviction. “Nothing matters to me more than what’s in this room. You and Simone have my heart.”

“I know,” she said, like she actually believed it. “It just feels like the world is against us sometimes.”

Harry knew “the world” was a stand-in for his management. They made their lives exponentially more difficult emotionally, but there wasn’t much he could do. Even during the hiatus, Harry would still be contracted with them, forced to play by their rules and hide Y/n and Simone away like they were something to be ashamed of.

“I’m gonna stay here tonight,” Harry finally said.

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, knowing he’d get in a lot of trouble for risking exposure. Even if all management had to do was make people sign an NDA, they never wanted to take that chance. Y/n often supposed that their vigilance was something to appreciate, but she also thought their methods could be harsh.

“Yeah. I’ve missed having you in my arms too.”

She took her head off his shoulders then, their faces close enough that their noses were touching. Y/n nudged his with hers until he leaned in for a kiss. It was soft, nothing too intense while their two year old was playing right in front of them.

Later that night when Simone was fast asleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up, talking about everything and nothing. They both missed the intimacy of late night chats in bed, and though Harry had to be up early tomorrow morning, he made no attempts to go to sleep.

“Let’s go somewhere,” he whispered, thumbs caressing her bare shoulder.

He was talking like he could do whatever he wanted and go anywhere he wanted at the drop of a hat, but Y/n didn’t pop the bubble. She didn’t want to.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere no one will find us. Somewhere no one knows who I am.”

“Might be a hard place to find,” she mused, playing with the rings on his finger.

She admired each one on his hand, pausing at the one on his ring finger. Her own was bare, there was no way they would ever be allowed to get engaged. But it was something she thought about amidst her busy life as a mom. Y/n often went back and forth between letting the world know that Harry was hers and hers only, as he’d promised, and keeping their love to themselves. Today was a shout it from the rooftops kind of day.

“I want it too,” Harry said, his eyes having tracked her gaze to where her bare finger lay tangled with his. They were young, sure, but they’d been through a lot together the last few years. He wanted her as badly as the day they first met, and if that wasn’t a sign that he was meant to be with her forever, he didn’t know what was.

Y/n turned so that she was facing him. Her eyes were heavy like they were fighting off sleep, but she kept them open. His long hair was splayed across the pillow, tangled from where her hands had rucked it up earlier. Harry, for whatever reason, had decided he wanted to grow it out. Y/n didn’t mind, though, she thought it made him even more irresistible. And the way Simone held a strand of it in her little fist whenever he held her was absolutely adorable.

“Want what?” she asked, even though she knew.

Harry leaned forward. Their lips touched, but he wouldn’t kiss her. Instead he mumbled, “To make you my wife. To let anyone who’s ever looked twice know that you have a husband.”

His words made her shiver. Harry’s jealousy didn’t show itself very often because they couldn’t be seen in public together. But he wasn’t an idiot. Y/n was breathtaking when they met, and she was even more so now. He could only imagine how many times people tried to flirt with her when he was away. Just the thought lit a spark of jealousy in him.

Y/n ran a hand through his hair. “Good to know we’re still wildly possessive of each other.”

Harry chuckled and kissed the spot just above her brow. “Always will be.”

She kissed him, leaving him no time to react before pushing her tongue past the seam of his lips. Harry groaned appreciatively, the low rumble making her toes curl. Y/n relished every movement, every stroke of his tongue against hers, each inch of her skin he claimed with his hand.

They were as quiet as they could be, aware of their daughter in her crib just a few paces away. A mouth on the shoulder to muffle, slow movements that didn’t have them breathing heavily but still sent them reeling, kisses that swallowed any noises that wanted to escape. By the end of it, they were littered with love bites and completely spent.

Y/n rested her head against Harry’s chest, her hand resting on his stomach as her thumb caressed the soft skin there. He worked out quite often and was in great shape, but she loved that he had a little bit of a belly.

“What would the world think if they knew Harry Styles had a dad bod?” Y/n murmured, giving him a soft pinch.

“Hey,” Harry replied, but wasn’t actually offended. “You love this body.”

“I do.”

Tipping her head up, she kissed him, sighing against the comfortable slide of his lips against hers. She was about to rest her head back on his chest when there was movement from the crib and a soft cry.

Shimmying into a pair of pants, Harry went over to the crib and picked up Simone. “Just this once,” he said, laying her down between him and Y/n, who didn’t hesitate to take her into her arms. In seconds, Simone was fast asleep, her cheek squished up against Y/n’s shoulder.

“Perfect,” she heard Harry whisper before his arm snaked over Y/n’s waist. Simone’s hand subconsciously reached for Harry, latching onto his hair. He kissed her cheek once before resting his head on his pillow once more before falling asleep, savoring the peace he felt of sleeping with his family in his arms.

[depressedcoffeeobsess]

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ; 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

warnings: still friends , kisses on the cheek , cursing, some use of Y/N , given last name (sorry)

summary: remus faces the full moon and is scared to go to prefect duties , due to his scars\marks. he gets even more frightened when he's signed to be partners with the sterling girl. But he becomes too frustrated afterwards

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Word count: tommorow (also known as lazy jo)

[Pt.1]

IT WAS A FEW DAYS after the first incident. Remus unfortunately had faced a lot more scars than usual, this time even getting one on his nose. He felt something like insecure but it wasn't insecure. He was currently on bed rest at the hospital wing. And he was surely unlucky to get the news that he would be doing prefect duties with the sterling girl.He had to make sure she wouldn't see him in this horrible and monsterific state. So he asked Wormtail to cover up for him if the girl asked.

And surely did she ask.

She walked over to the gryffindor table at breakfast. She sat down next to Peter. Peter and the others looked confused. She noticed that Remus wasn't there. So she wanted to inform him that they had duties together. "Morning!" She said in her usual joyful and cheerful tone.

"Morning?" Peter said or more like asked in confused.

"Have you seen Remus anywhere? I was going to tell him that we were set to do duties together." She said quite politely. The marauders excluding remus looked at each other with worry and regret for remus thus they decided to answer the girl, not so truthfully.

"Well um, he's kinda sick right now. You know not feeling the best." Sirius explained laughing nervously. "We could tell him that we, were just about to go up and give him breakfast anyways. The girl looked at them suspiciously.

"Well maybe I can visit him? Or maybe I can take his breakfast up for him?" She suggested looking at the frightened faces before her.

"No!" James shouted at the top oh his lungs. " I meant well um— he wouldn't like to see anyone now because he doesn't want to seek that much attention. Yeah." He nervously gulps out the last part. She get a tiny ping of sadness in her but decides to ignore it.

"Okay . . ." She says her voice barely louder than any whisper. With that she leaves for the ravenclaw table in order to find her friend pandora.

DURING POTIONS CLASS she realised that she would have no particular partner assigned for her. No, her partner wasn't remus but her former partner was in the hospital wing due to common illnesses. She simply didn't care at all though , because she knew she was intelligent enough to do things herself. But like wise slughorn disagreed. She sighed.

She was now partnered up with Peter Pettigrew. This got her mind racing with questions to ask him. She started buzzing her brain like crazy thinking of what possibly would be short yet hinty. And then she got it: where is he?

"Who?" Peter asked confused about who she was talking about. She said it out loud didn't she. Lucky her.

"Remus. I'm talking about him. How is he?" Another question blurted out.they often do that when she's not paying so much attention to her thinking and is more lured to the conversation in front of her.

"Oh well he's in the hospital wing, and he's fine. Totally fine." He answered as less suspicious as he could. The girl simply nodded believing what he had said quite easily. "Oh and he still doesn't want anyone to visit him other than us." He also included. This got the girl thinking too much again.

"Ms. Sterling pay attention please!" Slughorn yelled slightly sluggish at her lack of attention. "I've asked you a question two times waiting for an answer young lady!"

"Oh so sorry professor. Could you maybe repeat the question again?" She asked terribly embarrassed.

"What can happen to the one who drinks the potion liquid luck?" He asked for the third time.

"Felix Felicis is liquid luck, which makes the person who drinks it lucky for a certain period of time. which ends up in causing the drinker to have good luck for a limited period of time, during which they were likely to to succeed in all endeavours in which success was possible." She answered as she had almost copy and pasted it to her words from a advanced book of potions.

"Very good! Five—six points to gryffindor!" He said quite speechless himself. The slytherins behind them grunted annoyed.

And so the day went on almost time for prefect duties.

IT WAS ALMOST THE time for prefect duties. Remus laid anxiously on his four poster bed thinking about whether he would go there or not. He was perfectly fine just got a little hiss from the small slash on his cheek next to his mouth. It was dangerously close to his mouth. He was going up and down. His heart seemed like it would beat out of his chest any minute now. I mean why should he be so nervous. It wasn't like he liked the girl . . . Right? In the end he decided he would have to accompany her as he couldn't leave the poor girl alone, or worse going with someone else.

Suddenly there was a soft knock on the dorm door. Remus thought it was Peter and stood up without hesitation. He swiftly turned the door knob , quietly opening it without hesitation. But what was infront of him took him by mere surprise. It was her! The sterling girl. God knows how she came up here. His eyes widened with pure horror. His head started slowing down because his heart was leaping faster that a snitch.

"Hi there Remus" She said turning her head to get a better view of his face. She looked so relaxed and innocent. His heart rate got even faster, he swore that she would hear it go boom boom. "Um I hope you feel better" with that she shoved a small piece of parchment—or rather a letter into his hands. And then she turned around leaving , skipping.

Remus was in shock. Every step she took away from him made his heart rate go normal. But then again , he got kinda disappointed. He closed the door shut and sat on Sirius's bed. For some stupid reason Remus would occasionally sit on sirius's bed when he felt angry or nervous. Right now it was definitely nervousness. He slowly peeled the letter open to see very cursive yet neat‐readable handwriting. He fell in love. He didn't even read the letter yet. His stomach filled with butterflies. No why butterflies. Fuck butterflies, he had an entire zoo in there. He saw a small heart at the end. And eight lovely words. It had wrote ' I love you to the moon and back ' . The fact that it had mentioned a moon was his biggest tingle. He felt like he was being truly accepted for the person he is. He walked up to the small drawer next to his bed and carefully left the small note in the crook of the drawer.

He decided to get his robes on and leave for prefect duties.

SHE SKIPPED BACK TO her dorm. Her fellow girl mates looked at her pitying every inch of her. But immediately took it back when they saw her face. It was slightly tinted pink and she was smiling like a child who was getting an award of first. "How'd it go Y/N?" One of them , Marlene asked. Lily almost hit Marlene.

She squealed " it went amazing Marls!" She said clearly proud of herself. "I put the note in his hand and skipped back here!" Mary and Marlene looked at each other. Lily did a mental face palm and took a deep sigh.

Mary shook her head dissatisfied. " no wonder everyone looks at you like shit" Mary cursed under her breath.

Withought even thinking anymore she got ready for prefect duties.

REMUS MET THE GIRL outside the gryffindor common room. He looked slightly feared. And well he was feared that the girl would see his scars and come to the common sense that he was a werewolf. But he was scared she would call him a monster. He took a shaking breath and looked at the girl. Even in the dark he could find her smile. Her smile was brighter then the sunshine that came from the bright sun.

"Are you okay remus?" She asked softly with a ping of concern. He wanted to give her a nod but instead he gave her a shook of his head. "Oh well is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well—I," He took a sigh and prepared himself. "Could you maybe hold my hand?" He asked his voice lower than a whisper.

"Sorry I couldn't get you?"

"Could you hold my h-hand?"

"One more time."

"Could you hold my hand?" He asked for the third time.

"Sure. I suppose its you're way of getting comfort!" She said happily almost. He nodded. But the truth was it was a lie, she was his way of comfort.

Withought a second thought she intertwine her fingers with his. It was like the perfect fit. It fit in like a heart and a chest. He felt his whole body going numb. Boom boom goes his heart again.

They were walking together. No clear words exchanged between the pair of them. He knew she was muttering soft things on and on. But couldn't glue the words together to get a perfect sentence. Be brave he kept thinking.

"So what did you learn in defence against dark arts today?" He asked breaking the endurable silence.

"Oh it was the patronus spell. It was amazing when professor did it. But unfortunately we were caught up in learning to see the time passing by. So we're going to do the spell tomorrow." She explained fully patient.

"That's cool , I heard Snape can already conjure a full bodied patronus." He said thinking about what his patronus would be.

"Really? That's amazing I wonder what my patronus is gonna be like. My mum got her patronus as a donkey, quite sad honestly. She had to pay galleons for her friends to keep it a secret. I hope my patronus is graceful like a Swan and courageous as a tiger. But I don't want it to be any of them." She expressed with light and sorrow in her words. "My dad got his patronus as a Swan. Mum says she can see where that came from. Though I don't want to know." She piled words onto more words. Remus laughed quietly. Following that she also laughed. And boy oh boy, remus's heart went thumping like crazy as if a carpenter had been hammering a nail. His face flushed , it wasn't that bright but you could say he was flushed.

They ended the duty near the painting of the gryffindor common room. "I had a lovely time with you Remus but," She sighed. Remus suddenly froze. Did she finally figure it out? "Why do you have scars on you face?" She asked. Remus almost took a sigh of relief.

"Um well Sirius's Owl sweeped by our window and slashed me on the cheek—" He didn't get to finish it off. The girl pulled him byt the colour and kissed him on the—cheek. It was near his mouth. Too near. Dangerously near to his mouth. He flushed brighter than the candy apple red.

"Good night remus" She said sleepily. She muttered the password and got into the common room. Leaving a very flushed remus in the hallway, wide eyed. He was so thankful that it was dark. And from that moment he realised ;

I'm in love with her . . . again.

°°°°°°°°°•°°°°°°°°°

A/N : sorry for leaving you on a cliff hanger love's .

OH THE WHOLE ZOO PART!!!!!

• dividers by @issysh3ll

•I totally need @amiableness to proof read this. (GO FOLLOW HER EEP!!!)

• @jamesweather for reblogging my pt.1 (read it!!!)

[tonkatsubowl]

I'm craving for blade x fem reader content 🤭

I just see your request is open so~

Can I get blade x fem reader x IL dan heng

Its a love triangle

Fem reader is a astral express crew too

She is innocent, kind, gentle and elegant

Younger than astral express crew too

Lets just say, she is meet blade when he got many injured on his body, she knew that blade is a criminal but, she didn't have a heart to just leave him like that so she heal him with her power and have a few minutes of talk with blade . And boom! He feel in love with fem reader reader

About dan heng, he is already fall in love with her before blade. So, after they meet again when he is still in his IL form, he have a talk with them right? He talk with fem reader too but feel a little shy, his face is a little red, fem reader think dan heng is sick so she just put her palm on his forehead, the result is his forehead feel hot not because of sick but because of embarrased.

At night dan heng and blade accidently meet, the astral express crew is not with him, he just want to be alone for a while, but he suddenly meet blade .

And they just talking about who will steal fem reader's heart while glaring at each other

(If I can have both why just one hehehe jk)

i wrote a love triangle and maybe something similar to what you said? hopefully this is ok!

in the dead of night, you remain peacefully asleep underneath your thick covers. the bed was warm, soft, almost welcoming you for an eternal slumber...that is, until your phone had woken you up. specifically enough, it was due to the constant vibrations and notification pings that constantly were setting off. your eyes stir awake, your arm weakly reaching forward to grab the device off your nightstand. squinting, almost decimated by the brightness of your phone, you were greeted from a text from a familiar name.

➜ yukong: hey, y/n. i apologize for texting you while you remain asleep. you can respond once you're awake, but if you're able to, can you run some errands for me if able? obviously, there will be payment involved.

➜ y/n: it's okay, i just woke up. i can do it rn if you want

➜ yukong: ahhh, you're awake? im sorry! go back to sleep

➜ y/n: no, it's okay. i don't mind helping you.

➜ yukong: okay, if you say so. just be sure to rest after, okay? i'll make sure you get an extra reward for this.

then, you would take a moment to spend your way too early morning getting ready. from washing your face, brushing your teeth, dressing up...and finally you were ready to head out.

stepping foot into xianzhou, you made your way towards the building that yukong frequently worked in. there, she assigned you with a task of delivering paperwork to a few clients. she was unable to do this work due to some personal stuff coming up within her life, thus allowing her to entrust you with these work-related tasks. but there was no surprise to this type of work whatsoever. himeko and welt often asked you to deliver and run errands for them, especially on the space station. this was no different, especially when this was one of the main ways of how you got your credits.

the client's location in particular was in a place that you were familiar with, and being in xianzhou long enough, you were able to find shortcuts and learn which routes to take to avoid confronting monsters and the like. so, you decide to take a route that was practically an alleyway. a bit scary when it's dark, but it always succeeded when it came to going to your destination site.

you hum to yourself, practically predicting that this would be a very easy-going day. just deliver a few thing and go back to the astral express and just hang out with march, right?

you were dead wrong.

the moment you continued down the alleyway path, you come across an individual in particular that seemed...slumped against the wall. the stench of blood filled your nose, but it was a smell you were quite accustomed to, being consistently in the battlefield and all. you immediately knew that this person was injured, perhaps lifeless, even.

though, the alleyway was still a bit dark, rendering your eyes to be useless to make out who the person was. nevertheless, you were here, and you were on the path of abundance. you would take this time to help this person, and...

"...blade?"

you stepped closer, your e/c hues taking a glimpse of his familiar hair, his signature weapon that was laid on the ground, decorated with the blossoming of someone's blood...and his eyes. those beautiful, golden and scarlet eyes you would admire. his eyes were beautiful as ever, but they remained...so dull. so solemn.

you stopped in place, unsure of what to do or how to truly act in this situation. this man―this man in front of you...he was your enemy. he was the enemy of your family―the astral express crew. and here he was, struggling to breathe, unable to defend himself. even with you here, and he didn't seem to care...as though he trusted that you wouldn't do anything to him.

"...gh," you could hear him grunt, his fingers clutching tightly at his side as his blood oozed inbetween his fingers. "what?"

your eyes peel to his injuries, and you set down the paperwork you were meant to deliver. at this very moment, you had the option to basically arrest the man, to take him as prisoner. you could do it and make your life easier...but something didn't seem right. surely, kafka would be on her way to assist him now, no? but you didn't have time to think―you needed to act, and blade's life was practically in your hands.

as you sat down, both of your hands emit a soft glow of turquoise, giving a visual indication that you were going to heal him. hovering your hands over his injuries, you watch carefully, observing the rest of his features. he was stabbed, he was hurt―but who? who did this?

"...uhn," he grunted again, a stubborn smirk appearing upon his visage, "why are you even here? you had the opportunity to kill me, to take me prisoner, and yet―"

"shh. save your breath, blade."

that's when he actually did listen to you, as though you possessed kafka's verbal skill and remained silent. the pain that he felt was now gone, only to be replaced by the soreness of his injuries. gritting his teeth, the man would laugh to himself. the pain, everything he felt through is injuries⸻he had missed it. he was quite the masochist, after all.

blade had limped, still clutching to the side. the soreness of his injuries would take some time to get used to. it had been a while since he's been this brutally stabbed before. "so, what?" he began, "you're gonna go run off and tell the others that i was here? you should've taken me captive and have gotten over it, y/n."

"...i can't do that to you," you murmured, "it's just⸻"

"just what?"

boldly enough, blade walks over to you, extending an arm towards you. his hand was already caressing the side of your face, the pad of his thumb was brushing against your skin. you gazed upon his features, admiring this scarlet gaze that looked upon you so...softly.

"you've taken many lives before, y/n. many lives you did to save a world. so, you can take mine. or even take me. why can't you?"

you frown, almost instinctively leaning into his touch, "don't say that," you murmur, "i just...i just can't."

your heart began to race. you loved blade, and you loved him dearly, but you just didn't know your choices at this very moment. you didn't know what you wanted. you pulled away, gently brushing his hand away as you turned your back to him, picking up the pieces of paper that you set to the side to assist him.

blade watched you in silence, admiring your physique and beauty as he eyed on the paperwork. errands, again. is the astral express making you do all the dirty work again? there he goes, assuming that the astral express crew is making you do shit for them/

"i have to go. i'll⸻i'll see you later, blade."

you definitely will see him later.

"..."

blade was silent, watching as you left the scene quickly. he did, however, made sure that you left safely as you had arrived to assist him⸻but you had left something behind, as it fell out of your pocket as you left the scene.

your phone.

you were gone for quite a while.

your disappearance left dan heng and the others of the astral express team to worry about you...you weren't responding either. they have tried to check your location, but they keep forgetting that it was nearly difficult to really find your approximate location when they were on the astral express versus you being in xianzhou.

"i think she's fine, really." himeko said, "but i can't help but actually worry about y/n."

"do you think she was kidnapped!?" march exclaimed, gasping dramatically.

"no, march," welt shook his head, "she might've taken off without us knowing. i am sure she's just fine. besides, our security system would've picked it up a while ago if we had an intruder."

"hm." dan heng shook his head, "i'll go find her."

then everyone's eyes casted over to dan heng. march blinked, "eh!? well, you know xianzhou better than any of us... would you like for me to come with you, dan heng?"

dan heng shook his head, dismissing the topic with a hand as he shoved his phone into his own pocket. "no. i have business there to attend to anyways, so i better just look for her myself."

march looked back to the crew before nodding with everyone else in unison. "alright...well, please let us know if something came up, okay? tell y/n she's a dummy for not telling us anything!"

dan heng shook his head again. "sure, i will. i'll be back."

when dan heng had arrived upon the world of xianzhou, he was greeted by the welcoming scent of his homeworld's air. the fresh breeze, the gentle autumn leaves that brushed through with the winds that fluttered gently. the beautiful, bright blue sky that now greeted the world with its morning glory...but you were nowhere to be seen.

he wondered where you were at, and it may not show, but he was worried about you deeply. everyone else trusted that you were fine, but dan heng had felt otherwise. after all, he had very strong feelings towards you, and never once did he spent a day without worrying about you.

➜ dan heng: where are you, y/n?

➜ dan heng: did your phone die?

➜ dan heng: hang on. i'm coming to look for you.

➜ dan heng: huh? hold on, it says you're online. why aren't you responding to any of us?

it was strange, wasn't it? that you were online⸻as it said on his phone⸻but you weren't responding to anyone. could it be that you left your phone somewhere and it just turned on? no, that's not how technology really worked, and dan heng wasn't that less intellectual when it came to technology and all that sort of stuff.

in truth, someone else that wasn't you was watching these messages. reading them. someone had your phone.

this worried dan heng even more, wondering why you are online and choosing not to text anyone. were you upset? did he do something wrong? something wasn't right. that was when⸻

his fighter instincts kicked in as he felt something, or someone, coming towards him at such incredible, unpredicting speed. oh, he already knew who it was. within a milisecond, dan heng took form of his vidyadhara form, greeting his rival with a deflection of his own attack. as his lance and the opponent's sword met, dan heng looked forward, observing the intruder that attacked him.

"⸻!?"

and at the corner of his eye, dan heng could see a familiar cellular device was in the intruder's free hand...

"⸻you." dan heng retrieved his attack and leaped back, watching as his opponent did the same, "why do you have y/n's phone? what did you do?"

blade had laughed, his faint smirk appearing on his features as he lifted your phone, displaying the conversation between her and dan heng...or well, dan heng ultimately blowing up her phone with how worried he is.

"oh, this? she dropped it. why, you want it?" blade looked down to your phone, reading the text messages. "you text her this often, huh? what's is it between you and her?"

oh, it was so obvious. the two of them were possessive of you. blade, especially, who would practically annihilate anyone to keep you as his. but for the sake of your happiness, he hasn't. he hasn't killed anyone...yet. and he's waiting for the perfect time to steal you away, however. and now wasn't the time, unfortunately.

"what?" dan heng raised a brow. "what is going on between her and i has nothing to do with you. what did you do to y/n?"

"don't worry a single thing about it, boy," blade said, glancing down to the phone once again.

how annoying, blade thought to himself. the two of you were texting like this? holding onto your device, he inputted his own contacts, allowing the two of you to actually have a form of contact. of course, you were nowhere in sight, and you wouldn't know about this at all.

the dragon gritted his teeth, "where is she."

blade could see that dan heng was getting more furious by the second, and it was quite the sight to behold. oh, he was amused by this. he was allured by the anger of his archenemy. oh, it was amazing alright.

"go find her yourself. if you're worried that i did something, then you must be more stupid than i truly thought you are." turning off your phone, blade tosses the device over to dan heng, then he sheathed his own signature weapon away. "she's running errands for someone named yukong. that's all that's to it. she dropped her phone, and i happened to retrieve it."

how he knew about this information? he read your conversations, of course!

dan heng continued to glare daggers at the stellaron hunter. his hand twitched, but he caught the phone that belonged to you. "if you had touched her⸻"

"i certainly wish i did," blade mocked, "but i didn't. now run along."

that was when blade turned his back towards dan heng, allowing him to make his exit freely and safety. for some reason, dan heng chose to believe his words...blade...wouldn't exactly lie about keeping someone alive, either. with a huff of his mouth, dan heng proceeded to make an exit.

but this quarrel alone was suspicious. why was blade possessive of you? why did he have your phone? did something happen between the two of you? were you both holding a secret relationship? each question sent an aching pain to his heartstrings, which pulled his organs violently...

he needed answers, but he didn't want to know. he was afraid that you and him were... no, no. don't even think about it, dan heng. ensure her safety first.

what felt like forever, he finally saw you walking through the bustling streets of aurum alley, catching a glimpse of your h/c hair from the distance. he ran after you, "y/n!" he called out.

that was when you turned around, your familiar e/c eyes falling to the sight of dan heng in his vidyadhara form. right, he was always so beautiful in that form. you always admired him. his beauty, his strength⸻his loyalty and passion to his friends. and you, especially.

in his hand, dan heng held your phone, lifting the device.

"dan heng!" you called out, taking a few steps towards him as he approached you. coming to a stop, you notice that dan heng had your phone. giving you your device, you look at it, seeing that there were no cracks, and it was safely taken care of.

"ah, my phone! sorry, i was just about to go back to look for it and⸻"

"what were you thinking, worrying us like that?" dan heng had cut you off with his constant worrying about you. he was the silent, cold type, but because of you, you opened up a bit more of his social side...where it shows that he's very protective and worrying of you.

"ah! i'm sorry, just something happened and yukong needed my help, and⸻"

he cut you off again, as he sighed with relief, pulling you into his arms. you blinked, embracing the scent that he had, and the warmth that resonated upon his physique. you slowly returned the embrace, feeling your phone buzz quietly.

"ah...sorry, dan heng. i should've told you guys i would be leaving. it was just a short errand. i'm sorry for worrying you so much."

dan heng shook his head, keeping the embrace. as you embraced each other, you could see that someone had texted you...

➜ ???: good thing you're safe. i would've killed someone.

ah?

you had an idea who it might be, but you didn't respond. you'll do so later.

dan heng pulled away, a look of relief washing his ethereal features as he checked you for injuries...but he stopped himself, knowing that you were well and fine. "the others are waiting for you. have you finished your errands, y/n?"

you blink, nodding. "yeah. yukong gave me my reward, so i was just on my way back the moment i found my phone. i guess we can head back together, dan heng."

dan heng nodded, almost reluctant to take your hand...but he can't do anything yet. he wasn't sure about your relationship with blade. they both wanted you...but they weren't sure of each other's relationship with you. everything was amiss, after all. hidden behind a fog, unseeable.

"yeah, let's head back, y/n."

after being escorted back home to the parlor car, you were in your room. you had finished showering, eating...and finally you had some time to rest after an eventful day.

...but you had forgotten something... the text that you had received a few hours ago. it's best that you respond.

➜ ???: good thing you're safe. i would've killed someone.

➜ y/n: blade? sorry. i just saw this.

➜ ???: who else would it be. are you hurt?

he texted back immediately, too. you decided to add him back through your contacts, sending him a friend request and he would accept. you couldn't feel it or see it, but he was satisfied with that. the man barely uses his phone but for mission comms only. but now, he has a reason to use his phone more.

but also, now you know which person will be texting you. silver wolf and kafka have history of using his phone constantly when they don't have theirs, anyway.

➜ y/n: no, i'm okay. thank you for getting my phone back. are you alright? i'm moreso worried about you

➜ blade: i'm fine. are you going to bed?

➜ y/n: yeah, i'm tired. you should rest too. your injuries were bad...what happened anyway??

➜ blade: don't concern yourself with my quarrels, y/n.

➜ y/n: okay. as long as you're alright. but i am...getting a bit sleepy. but

➜ blade: ?

➜ y/n: i want to talk to you more

➜ blade: lol. go sleep. you can always text me.

➜ y/n: but in person?

➜ blade: one day.

➜ y/n: okay...

➜ blade: rest.

you stopped responding after that.

blade knew you had been succumbed into the arms of slumber, but he didn't dare try to wake you up. this time, he kept this phone on himself securely. he would never let kafka and silver wolf see these conversations...they were his to see, and for his eyes alone.

[55sturn]

✮ BEEN AWAY

pairing: chris sturniolo × female!reader

synopsis: in which y/n grows tired of chris constantly being whisked away on business trips and taken to fancy parties every weekend, she knows it’s part of the job but it’s taking a heavy toll on their relationship and she can’t take anymore.

warnings: swearing, chris is stressed and kind of a dick, mentions of parties, implied sex, i lowkey shit on laura in this sorry not sorry, angst angst angst, oh and more angst!

important notes pt 2: purple text blocks are the lyrics that each part are based off of. during the text section, orange text is chris, and pink text is the reader!

THIRD PERSON POV

“I KNOW I BEEN AWAY, I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT GIRL.”

chris sighed as his phone pinged with another text from his girlfriend, with every imessage ping, his heart clenched tighter in his chest.

his trips, more so the business trips that laura and the rest of the triplets’ networking and public relations team were taking them on had begun to cause a massive strain on his relationship with y/n.

he would bring her along when he could but laura, his manager was adamant that these trips were meant for the triplets to build their network, so that their brands, the collective one all three shared and their own personal brands could grow and flourish. laura felt that the triplets’ personal relationships had no place in their professional lives and often made a point to exclude their significant others and relationships when planning their trips and events.

so when a trip or event was labelled as something to do with networking, it meant that y/n couldn’t tag along. and most of the time, at these events, the triplets were meant to paint their faces with effortlessly charming smiles and flirt with anyone they could, to gain a good rep.

and while y/n know what those networking trips and events entailed, her knowledge didn’t ease the loneliness and heartache she felt when she’d open up her phone to see backstage footage of the events. her heart would drop as girls would attach themselves to chris, flirting and hanging onto his every word, watching as he’d give the same flirty smile back to them.

y/n sighed tapping cautiously through private snap stories of some influencer party that was taking place, all of the most popular influencers making an appearance and posting about it, per their managers’ requests. as she paused in the middle of larray’s story, she saw chris in the corner, clear as day, talking to some pretty little blonde thing whose hand was on his bicep. rolling her eyes, she opened her texts with her boyfriend.

START OF TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

Y/N: when are you coming home? i’m tired and i can’t sleep without you

Y/N: chris???

CHRIS: i know i’ve been gone a while ma

CHRIS: i’ll be home soon, just gotta make a couple more rounds and reach out to ppl and offer to collab

Y/N: you say that every time chris

Y/N: and then you don’t come home until 3 or 4

Y/N: i’m sick of it chris i’m done

CHRIS: come on ma you don’t mean that

Y/N: whatever just be quiet when you get home i’m sleeping on the couch

CHRIS: ma come on, i’ll be home soon

*read 12:31 AM*

END OF TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

“THEY JUST WANNA FUCK WITH YOU, CAUSE THEY KNOW I FUCK WITH YOU.”

chris sighed as countless articles flood his screen, random female influencers claiming to be in some sort of lowkey relationship with him, random male influencers trying to get at his girl.

he knew it was only because he had finally announced that he and y/n were together. she had her own fanbase prior to be connected to the triplets and it only grew, but the growth came with overly possessive and protective supporters. and it became like that for chris as well. in theory the over and slightly intense protectiveness was endearing, to an extent.

but the fans created these rumours and let them swirl as a way to try and debunk the announcement of chris and y/n’s relationship, almost as if their respective fans were gatekeeping the two.

“do we say something? should we say something?” y/n mumbled, her face tucked into chris’ chest as they talked about the things metaphorically floating around online.

“no.”

“why not?” y/n piped up, her tone almost defensive and accusatory as she pulled away from his chest, her eyes boring into his.

“they’re only doing it because it’s confirmed that we’re fucking with each other. they wanna mess with us, get under our skin, and cause a rift so that we break up so they can try and swoop in. it’s better to pay those rumours no mind.” chris spoke, his hand rubbing up and down her thigh, squeezing lovingly as his hand reached her hip, letting her know that it was okay.

y/n sat up for a moment, letting his words sink in before nodding and laying back down in her previous position, knowing that she had to trust chris.

“IF I PUT MY TRUST IN YOU, WHAT WOULD YOU DO? WOULD YOU JUST STEP OUT? WOULD YOU THUG IT OUT?”

“i need you to trust me y/n! can you do that? can you please just trust me or do you want out of this relationship?” chris yelled, pacing his room as yet another fight broke out between the couple, rumours of chris cheating had been rampant for the last few weeks and it was getting harder for y/n to decipher what was true and what was false.

“i don’t know chris! every day it’s something new about you and some other chick and it’s getting to me! it’s hard to see what’s fake and what’s real right now when the whole online world is against us being together!”

“why are you paying attention to what’s being said online when i am right here telling you myself what’s true and what’s fake?” he yelled back, running his hands through his hair as she cried on his bed.

“chris you literally have to flirt with girls at those parties, what’s stopping it from becoming something real?”

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that i’m with you and not them?”

“chris we met just like that, at some stupid fucking social media party!” she spat, climbing off his bed and grabbing her jacket as he scoffed.

“so you think that just because you and i met that way, it means that i’ll throw away a relationship that means the world to me?” he seethed, laughing dryly as she rolled her eyes.

“no i think that you’ll throw it away because it doesn’t actually mean the world to you.”

“the fuck does that mean, y/n?”

“actions speak louder than words, chris, and you haven’t done a whole lot to show me what i mean to you.” she whispered, grabbing the rest of her things that had been scattered around his room as he shook his head.

“where are you going?”

“i need some space to think chris, we’re not over, but i need to spend a couple nights alone at my place, to calm down and collect myself. you should do the same.” she spoke, her voice small and uneven as she quickly made her exit, leaving chris to think to himself as he flopped down against his mattress.

“DON’T GIVE MY SHIT AWAY, I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT, GIRL.”

“c’mon y/n, can’t you just store it somewhere?” chris groaned, trying to focus on the email he was typing up while on facetime with his now ex-girlfriend, y/n who sat on the floor in her apartment, going through a pile of chris’ clothes and other shit that she had rounded up.

“chris i don’t want your shit in my apartment, it hurts to look at it.”

“well whose fault is that?”

“i couldn’t handle it chris, you know that.”

“i know ma, i’m sorry, i’m just stressed and trying to get this email to some fuckin’ company out and i-i can’t do it while you’re sitting on call trying to hide your tears while you’re going through my shit because i prioritized my job over our relationship.” chris whispered, his voice cracked slightly as he looked back at her, watching as she wiped her tears.

“it just hurts so much chris, we should’ve been able to make it through. our love should’ve been strong enough.”

“it’ll be strong enough one day, i just gotta-“

“get through this part of your job, i know chris.”

“so please don’t give away my shit. just store it somewhere until you and i can make it through, okay?”

“okay.”

“THIS PENTHOUSE VIEW AIN’T AS BEAUTIFUL AS YOU. DON’T EVER HAVE TIME, BUT I CAN MAKE TIME FOR YOU.”

chris anxiously bounced his leg as he waited for y/n to arrive, he had flown her out to the city he was in for work, and as timid as she was about showing up, she pushed herself to go. she missed him, his smell, his smile, his touch. god missed his hands in hers as they tangled themselves up in the sheets. so instead of being stubborn, she boarded that plane and made her way to chicago.

she stood outside the penthouse hotel room that chris and matt had booked, she felt her stomach turn, she was going to see him again, and god she needed this. with a raised but shaky fist, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

chris and y/n had spent a few hours exploring the city, visiting all the touristy spots that she had been dreaming of seeing for years. once they got back, they both took a hot, steamy shower, and spent their time reminding each other how much they loved one another.

“the view is gorgeous.” y/n whispered, her hair and face tucked into one of chris’ hoodies over a pair of lace panties that left little to the imagination as chris’ arms were wrapped around her waist with his chin tucked into the space between her jaw and shoulder.

“so i talked to laura, told her that i’ll be booking my own networking appointments and trips from now on, i’ll run them by her of course but i told her i’m making my schedule now. and that you’ll be my plus one to every single event, on every trip. you’ll be a part of everything.”

“chris, what?”

“i don’t have much time myself but i made a promise to you and to myself while you were in the flight here, that i will be making time for you. you come before my job from now on.”

“is that why you flew me out here?”

“yeah. you’re my girl and you deserve my time and attention. i’m so sorry i ever made you feel like you didn’t. i love you, ma. you’re more important than flashy trips and parties.”

“i love you chris.” y/n cried, as she turned in his arms and pressing affirm but loving kiss to his lips.

“i got my paper straight ma, it’s our time now.”

taglist: @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @verosivy

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[havemybackanyday]

I started thinking about Buck texting Bobby every time he woke up, and my hand slipped.

---

Bobby is just beginning to prep breakfast at the station when his phone pings.

7:26am hey everything ok

It doesn't click right away—Bobby’s first assumption being that Buck is missing the job, maybe feeling a little left out. 

7:27am Yeah, everything’s fine here. Shift just started, you’re not missing much. Are you ok?

He watches as the three dots pop up and then disappear a couple times, and then puts his phone down to stir the eggs. He’s almost forgotten about it by the time the response comes in.

7:34am just checking

It’s then that the penny drops, and the realization breaks Bobby’s heart a little. He opens his camera and flips it around, taking a surreptitious selfie with A shift seated at the table in the background. Chim is gesturing animatedly, and Eddie is chuckling into a coffee mug while Hen rolls her eyes. In the foreground is half of Bobby’s own face, forgetting to smile as he concentrates on framing the shot. 

He sends the picture off to Buck.

7:36am We’re all here, all safe. We miss you. thanks bobby. miss you guys too

The next one comes in the following morning, just as Bobby is pulling into his driveway.

7:31am hey Hey, kid. All good here. ok, great sorry thanks No need, Buck.

Bobby knows there’s something Buck isn’t telling him about the coma dream and his place in it. When Bobby had asked him about it at the hospital, he’d been cagey, and since Buck got home, Bobby feels like he’s being tracked—like if Buck doesn’t know where Bobby is at any given moment, Bobby might vanish into thin air… or Buck might.

Bobby can be an anchor. He’s had practice.

2:12pm all good? All good.

They fall into a routine, where Buck will text “hey” whenever he wakes up and Bobby will reply with a checkmark emoji. It’s soothing for Bobby, too—this way, he knows Buck is sleeping, and gets a rough idea of when and how much. There’s always a text in the morning, and more often than not, a message also comes through in the afternoon. 

A couple days in, the afternoon text arrives while the 118 is on a call. Nothing serious, but several cars are involved, and Bobby is flitting around the scene, directing his people back and forth to where they’re needed. By the time he wraps up, Eddie is sitting half inside the truck and holding his phone, a concerned look on his face.

“Cap?”

Bobby pulls his own phone out of his turnouts.

3:42pm hey

3:48pm hey, bobby?

3:52pm i know it’s fine and i know you’re probably on a call but lmk if you’re ok when you can

3:54pm please sorry

Bobby takes a quick selfie with Eddie. Neither of them is smiling, but it’s not annoyance—it’s the same way they’d be looking at Buck if he were here, handling the call with them. No performing, just an ordinary moment in time. 

He sends it over.

4:09pm Sorry to make you wait. We’re good.

He looks up from his phone, and Eddie is watching him with pinched eyebrows. Wordlessly, he flips his phone around to show Bobby his own string of texts from Buck. Bobby sees his own name in the thread several times.

“How’s he doing?” Bobby asks.

Eddie blows out a breath and settles his elbows on his knees. “He’s… working through some stuff,” Eddie says, looking back at the text thread. He’s silent for a long moment, and then huffs a rueful laugh. “He seems rattled, which is pretty understandable. But beyond that, I don’t think he knows what he needs yet.”

“Well, until he tells us differently, the best thing we can do for him is to be here, and be us.”

Eddie nods, and they both swing into the engine.

That night, the ping of Bobby’s phone wakes him from a deep sleep in the station house bunks.

2:20am hey you awake

Bobby rubs a hand across his face. I am now. You ok? sorry i woke you No, don’t be. I’d rather you reach out.

Buck doesn’t respond; the three dots don’t even appear.

2:22am Did something happen? You alright?

2:24am just a nightmare You want to tell me about it? nah maybe later glad you’re ok, get some sleep

Bobby locks his phone and stares at the ceiling in the dark. He isn’t sure how much time passes, but at some point he resigns himself to the fact that his swirling worries won’t resolve themselves into anything legible right now. He swings his legs out of bed and heads upstairs to the kitchen.

Five hours later, he pulls into a parking spot outside of Buck’s apartment complex, a pan of cinnamon rolls in the passenger seat.

“Hey, Bobby.” Buck looks tired when he swings open the door, circles under his eyes, smile a little faded. 

“Hey, kid. Brought you something.” Bobby peels back a corner of the foil covering the cinnamon rolls, and watches as Buck’s eyes brighten.

He laughs and gestures to the piles of food on the kitchen island. “I don’t know if I’ve even got space for those, but I’ll move some of this out to the balcony if I have to.”

Bobby hands the pan over, and Buck lifts out a roll immediately, taking a huge bite that leaves icing on his lip. “Mmmmh. God. Thank you.”

He can’t help a smile at Buck’s enthusiasm. “Anytime.”

There’s a moment of quiet while Buck wedges the pan onto the overloaded island and finishes his roll. He’s licking his fingers and avoiding Bobby’s eyes when he says, “Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Buck.” Bobby waits for him to look up. “Don’t be. We’re all here for you—and not just because you got hurt. We’re here whenever you need us.”

Buck pauses, index finger still in his mouth. He pulls it out and says in a rush, as if racing his own hesitation: “You were dead. In my coma dream, you were dead. Because Hen and I never came to your apartment that day.”

“Okay,” Bobby says, nodding neutrally as the memories wash over him. The shame of waking in the shower. The helplessness of placing his pain in his coworkers’ hands. The rock-steady warmth of Buck and Hen on either side of him.

A vise tightens around his heart.

“Is that why you’ve been checking on me?”

Buck has the gall to sound ashamed of himself when he says, “Yeah.”

“Buck, you know—hey. Look at me, this is important.” Buck, who has shifted his gaze to someplace over Bobby’s right shoulder, drags his eyes back. “You know that my sobriety isn’t your responsibility, right?”

Buck nods. “I know, and I’m not trying to… fix things, or control things I can’t. I just…” He trails off, and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to wake up again in a world that doesn’t have you in it. This version of you, I mean.”

“Oh, kid, c’mere.” Bobby steps forward and wraps Buck in a hug. 

God damn anyone who ever told this kid that his heart was a problem. 

When they finally let go of each other, Bobby holds on to Buck’s shoulders. Buck sniffs, and swats a tear off his cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“You’ve been through a lot, and I know you’re still sorting it out. But I also know how stubborn you are when you’re chewing on a problem,” Bobby says, drawing a wet laugh out of Buck. “I know you’ll find your way through it. And we will all be here for you. Every step, however long it takes.”

Buck nods, and breaks into a hesitant smile.

“And in the meantime, let us spoil you a little.” Bobby gives Buck’s shoulder a light jab with his fist. “We don’t want to wake up in a world without you, either.”

[mrsackermannx]

— A GOOD DEED | GOJO SATORU

MDNI | nsfw drabble, jealous roommate satoru, no curses au, mentions of body hair (shaving, trimming), female oral receiving, porn with plot, slight marking, use of “princess,” satoru is obsessed with his roommate, unfinished draft. | 2.3k |

AN | ive had this lurking in my drafts for way too long so i thought i’d clear it <3

You were so annoying, not annoying in the same way Gojo was, but almost worse, or so he thought. He was utterly obsessed with you and not in the way most guys eventually found themselves with their pretty female roommate, but in the, if Gojo could fix any problem you faced, he would, no questions asked.

In the way he noticed his best friend was with the people he cared about, how Geto always asks his girls or his friends, “Have you eaten? Do you want to eat? Are you stressed right now?” Frowning and almost pouting, as he tenderly asks, “Are they working you too hard? Is it too hard on you?”

It was also eerily similar to Nanami’s unflinching nature, firm and unyielding whenever he insisted he could take on whatever job was plaguing his juniors. Gojo often found himself in the same boat; he couldn’t admit it without smirking, but he loved to help. He loved to fix. He had a weird little rule where he challenged himself to six good deeds a day; six was his lucky number, and he liked the fuzzy feeling he got whenever he did something nice for someone.

But that’s why you were so infuriating. You never let him do a thing. It drove him crazy. He hated it because he wanted you to take up space, but he was also Gojo fucking Satoru, and he wanted to run you ragged with your own game.

Any day now.

Not to mention he had one deed left, and he knew you have a date tonight.

His first deed of the day was tugging you out of bed by your ankle. After the fifth alarm rattling so loudly from your room had made his teeth ache, he’d decided to use his first deed.

His fifth was sending Megumi a large sum of money, which he called a contribution to “the fun fund.” Megumi was over studying veterinary medicine in Musashino, but he simply wanted him to indulge in some student life whilst he buried himself in the books.

He let out a deep, satisfied sigh as he watched Megumi’s messages ping and then stack on his lock screen one by one. He was parked in front of the house, admiring the hot pink beams of colour embracing the horizon of the neighbourhood. It looked like summer, but the crisp air reminded him of the sweet calls of fall.

Toasted marshmallows, candy apples, pumpkins, and the fireplace crackling as some Christmas classic played on the tv. All with you.

He glanced in his rearview at your car parked snugly behind him; knowing you were already home sent excitement shooting through him like caffeine. In hurried yet swift movements, he’d already stepped out of the driver's seat, thrusting the keys into the door and turning it.

The scent of you clung to the air and filled the air with warmth, and it was unmistakably you. Even if he was at work, he could place it in the elevator, by the vending machine, wherever you went, you left a mark.

But here’s the thing: You weren’t infuriating just because you’d kicked your work shoes off beside the welcome mat without lining them up. Or because walking down the corridor felt like walking into a sauna from how scalding you’d had your shower, nor the noises of you humming and singing along to the energetic music you were playing to get ready to, it was something else entirely that Gojo struggled to put his finger on.

Your bedroom door had been swung open as you sang along in your bathroom, so he walked in, his steps slow and gentle as he wandered toward the display of your bed. A little black dress with blue lace panties laid out as if the dress was wearing them. He surmised that because a bra was missing, it meant you weren’t wearing one.

An emotion hit him so square in the gut that his teeth clenched as your music rang out into the corridor. He walked a little down the hall, and there you were, bathroom door ajar, in a silky little robe, earrings in, blinking your lashes into the thick curled wand of your mascara.

You looked beautiful, and you smelt like heaven. Whatever butters and oils you slathered your skin in after you’d showered lingered in the house and smelt just like sweet icing.

Your face lit up as you saw him coaxing open the door. “Heyy, you!”

He lingered at the door first, looking at every part of you. He was shameless about it too, until you laughed nervously and broke the tension, “Been a while for you or something? Here I thought you and Sugu jacked each other off sometimes.”

He chuckled, finally breaking his eyes away from your lips, “Not since college!”

You swallowed as he sauntered in, hands slotted in his pockets, his height alone swallowing you up before he finally sat on the edge of your bath, looking up at you in awe. “Going out with Shoko or something?” he asked, pretending to care about the notifications he was swiping away on his watch.

“No, I have a date…” You stood on your tiptoes as you swiped the mascara off of your eyelids with a cotton swab, “Remember? That guy I’ve been talking to?”

Gojo’s eyes wandered up and down the backs of your thighs. They glistened under the lights of the bathroom with whatever lotion you’d applied. The sight made his fists clench at his side. With his mouth dry, he blinked as he said, “Oh? Hmm…think I remember. The guy that still lives with his mom, right?”

You snorted, tapping at your speaker to turn down your music. You turned to him, “And you live with me. How many girls have liked that, huh?”

“I want you here,” he said simply, “Humans aren’t meant to be alone, you know? You save on rent in the city, and I get to have you here.”

You laughed sweetly, the tension leaving the air as you turned your music back up. “I don’t know who’s getting the better deal here, hm?”

“Watching you doll yourself up is plenty of fun for me,” he hummed, folding his arms and leaning back, taking you in as you fluttered a brush across your cheekbones.

“Oh? Is it? Which part?”

You checked the time and then furrowed your brow a little, quickly moving on to your hair. He smiled at the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, turning your face this way and that to catch the way your hair was framing your face. It was as if you didn’t know what suited you, but Gojo felt like every single thing you tried was perfect. “All of it,” he said, his voice impossibly low as he ran his fingers over his undercut.

You smiled at his answer, ignoring the way it made your heart race.

“Well good.” Your swift movements made his heart thud, the lantern sleeves of your robe swishing over your wrists and falling down your forearms so you looked like an angel blessing his vision.

He crossed his legs together, blue eyes never tearing from you, he was watching so closely he noticed your robe tug loose. The silken belt giving out within its loops and then ballooning down to your sides.

He held his breath as you leaned forward to change the song, the silk hitching open and revealing the soft slithers of your breasts. He inhaled a deep breath and turned just slightly away for a second. He should tell you, but he won’t. Not when you’re so focused, right?

“Where’s he taking you?”

The bite in his question makes you internally flinch.

���He said it was a surprise.”

He scoffed, “A surprise, or is he gonna drop you a pin to a restaurant downtown?”

You gave up on your hair, but Gojo didn’t mind because he liked it like that. A little messy and all glossy from whatever you always used. You turned to him with an unreadable expression, hand on one hip as you regarded him, “What do you want me to do? The only true gentlemen left are like…Kento.”

He shrugged, fighting everything to keep looking at your done-up face, ignoring the silk of your robe that was now splitting open with velocity. He eyed the bottle and then the glass of champagne beside your makeup bag. It must not have been your first glass because you weren’t noticing.

He wondered if you were drinking to ease any nerves and found himself growing all the more prickly.

He hummed thoughtfully. “If I was taking you out, I’d take you to Miguel’s Michelin star to get some real food. Get the best seat in the house,” his thumb stroked his chin in mock thought. “Have us driven, perhaps?”

“Well, you’re not,” you tripped on your words and then instinctively reached out for your glass to swig the last of its contents.

“As if you’re such a gentleman, huh?”

He returned your snark ten fold. “Oh, me, no? That’s why I’ve not told you that your robe’s coming undone.”

You looked down, your robe a deep v exposing your centre but still covering everything important. You kept your eyes locked but lifted your chin in feigned triumph, “It’s supposed to be this way.”

“Oh? My bad,” he said, standing suddenly, making you freeze at the movement. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between you both, his hands closing over yours. The heat of his skin on yours made all your hurry to be ready dissipate. It was as if he stopped time just by making contact with you.

“Oh you look nervous, princess.” He sighed, “Got nothing underneath or something?”

You shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze, finding your eyes fixed on the crisp shirt tucked into his tailored black pants. He must have already taken off his suit jacket, you thought. “Then why does it matter if it opens?”

“I’m gonna be late,” you weakly offered as he trailed his finger down the side of your neck. He tutted, grinning at the way your lip quivered.

“Just sayin’ this guy should be on his knees. He’s lucky he even gets a date with you,” he hummed, running his thumb across your collarbone. “Shall I show you how?”

You only managed to lick your lips, feeling a heat pool in your core as he lowered himself slowly. He hissed something in Japanese as he slid his palm up and down the side of your thigh, peering up at you with curious eyes, gauging your every reaction.

He took your waist and suddenly pushed you up against the wall, hooking your thigh over his shoulder. You grabbed onto him, making him laugh as he kissed your knee, one hand firmly on your waist. “You’re not gonna fall, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?”

He grinned up at you, running his hand up and down your calf as he avoided your question, “Oof. Shaved your legs, huh?”

You could feel every single part of your body heat, “I’m wearing a dress, so.” You pushed your robe between your legs, trying to hide that you were wearing nothing underneath.

He toyed with the belt of your robe, tugging easily at the end of the bow until it fell open. Your pubic hair was trimmed and neat, and the sight made Gojo’s cock harden.

“Mm, cute,” he whispered, running his thumb over your cunt until he brushed your clit. You whined into your palm, eyes fluttering shut. “So, what are you gonna let me do with you?” he drawled, his voice so seductive it made your ears burn.

“Nothing,” you stammered, but he watched your pussy twitch before his eyes, slick pooling out of you. “I’ve got a date and I’ve got high hopes for this one.”

“Oh? Is that why you gave yourself this cute little haircut?” He threw back his head and laughed, “I don't think he deserves to see this. But I do.”

“You shouldn’t be seeing it.” You whimpered as he used his thumb to drag your slick all over, “Satoru. Don’t make a mess. I just showered.”

“Nuh uh. You’re making the mess, baby.” He clutched your hip harder, painting your arousal all over with all four of his fingers.

You moaned as he smeared your juices all over, “How are you gonna show Mr. Loser now?” He leaned forward, his breath against your sex as he kissed along the crease of your inner thigh, latching his mouth there. He sucked so hard you bucked your hips forward and when he pulled away, a dark stamp of his mouth was left, blooming and bruised.

“Satoru!” you groaned.

“Because I’m such a gentleman, I’ll clean you up, yeah? Least I can do.”

“D-don’t!”

He grinned, “Oh? Here, I thought you were running late.” He glanced purposely at the slick dripping down your inner thigh. He swiped it and sucked, “Think of it as my last good deed for the day.”

You eagerly nodded, almost shrieking as he lurched forward and took your clit into his mouth. He suckled it between his lips, flicking his tongue up and down until your legs shook. You grasped onto his hair as he buried his face into you with loud slurps and groans. He hummed with every sound you made, and in minutes, you were climaxing into his mouth, gushing and making even more mess. “So perfect, baby.”

He went back in, holding your clit captive in his mouth until you forcibly shoved him away. He stood, smirking at you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Oop, he’s calling. Better get to that date.”

He left you, walking out as if he’d not just given you the best orgasm you’d ever had. You were barely able to stand as you scrambled to answer the phone. You debated still going, because you didn’t know how you would face Gojo now.

When you joined him in the living room, he was reclined back, arms supporting his head as he watched a movie, throwing candy into his mouth every few seconds. He looked like he’d just taken a load off, like eating your cunt like it was his last meal had somehow revitalised him.

©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.