#fucking bullshit is being shoved to front because apparently no one else can take front

[piplupod]

®

[absolutepokemontrash]

I come bearing a request! The Brothers with an MC who's really good at cooking and baking? Like, the stuff food blogs dream of. Master-level instagram pastries. Could compete with the chocolate guy if they put their mind to it.

👀 ooooo, I do love me some pastries-

(I know you have an *ahem* distaste for Lucifer, dear moot, so enjoy Lucifer acting like a bit of a dingus in his section!)

Lucifer

Oh, the human can cook. *insert asshole eyeroll here*. Great. Wonderful. Groundbreaking. That’s what’s got all his brothers acting like- what was that word Levi used? Simps? This human has turned six of the seven rulers of hell into a bunch of simps.

Sure, the human has near godlike cooking prowess. Sure, everyone looks forward to their day for cooking. And sure, everyone thinks the human’s pretty great.

Tsk, not him though. He’s a refined demon. Some silly food isn’t going to make him a lovesick fool… did he smell eclairs..?

Lucifer peered into the kitchen to see MC carefully taking a tray of eclairs out of the oven and letting them cool off on the counter. His favourite dessert… right there in front of him…

Due to not being a total moron, MC notices Lucifer and asks him what the hell he’s doing just standing ominously in the doorway. Lucifer makes up some bullshit excuse about reminding MC to do their homework and just leaves. Okay, game plan, he needs those fucking eclairs or he will spontaneously combust.

As he snuck into the kitchen that night, Lucifer took a moment to briefly wonder why he was creeping around his own house. He was the Avatar of Pride for pity’s sake! He could eat whatever he damn well pleased! Oh shit was someone coming- no? Okay, back to sneaking.

Lucifer crept into the kitchen, saw the eclairs, and all logic was thrown out the window. Time to eat!

“BEEL NO! NOT THE- Lucifer..?” “…” “…” “…you’re very talented, MC, do you mind making more of these?”

SOMEONE SNAP A PICTURE! THIS IS THE CLOSEST LUCIFER HAS GOTTEN TO BEGGING IN THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS!

Mammon

Ugh, stuck babysittin’ some dumb human, how lame…

As Mammon was throwing a “I’m broke and I’m stuck in a pact with a dumb human” pity party, the most heavenly smell entered his nostrils. Cooking… good cooking… was Barbatos visiting or somethin’? Nah, Lucifer woulda made a big fuss about gettin’ ready for Lord Diavolo. Huh, so what was goin’ on in the kitchen?

Huh? The human? The human can cook? Well damn, maybe this whole deal wouldn’t be so bad. Oi! MC! As payment for babysittin’ ‘em, he got to have an extra big share of- OW!

Did- did the human just hit him with a spoon?! Th-they can’t do that!

Apparently they fucking can. Mammon gets told to sit the fuck down and wait for the food like everyone else. He grumbles on the way to the dining room, but he can’t fully hide his excitement to try the food.

The food even looked pretty! How did they do that?! Magic. It had to be!

After everyone’s tastebuds were blessed with the heavenly substance that is MC’s culinary exploits, Mammon decides he needs to get on this human’s good side in order to receive more food! Maybe even find some way to make a profit or somethin’!

After weeks go by of trying to suck up to the human without looking like too much of a chump, Mammon eventually realizes… hey, this human ain’t so bad. They’re nice, they make him feel good about himself, they give him headpats… he’s really hit the jackpot here!

He’ll offer to help MC bake or cook, but beware, he will try and sample the food before it’s done. Don’t let him lick the spoon!!!

Leviathan

First thought? This human ain’t shit. Thought after seeing their food? WOAAAAAAAH! JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME-

He was unceremoniously cut off by Beel asking demanding seconds. Humph, fine, he doesn’t actually care about this dumb normie food anyway.

…well at least until Levi saw a little something something on TV that he just had to ask MC to try and make. He shyly knocked on their door and when they answered, Levi shoved the screenshot in their face and stuttered out a dinner request.

On the day MC was supposed to make dinner, Levi poked his head into the kitchen and tried to make it look like he was just standing in the same room as MC and not checking to see if they were making his dinner request.

Not that he’d blame them for not doing that… who’d wanna make some anime dinner for a yucky Otaku- OMG JAHSHSHABA THEY’RE MAKING IT! *fangirl squeals*

As Levi continues to commit the SIN of being in the kitchen at the same time as someone else, MC eventually just asks him if he’d like to help out.

“Here! Just keep turning the takoyaki.” “R-really? You trust me?” “Yes, Levi. You watched how they made it on your show, right?” “Yes! I won’t mess up! I swear on my honour as an otaku!”

All in all, it was a very cute bonding experience for the two. Now it’s a regular thing. Levi requests something for dinner or dessert, MC makes it, Levi helps out.

Satan

So, the human can cook. That’s nice. At least someone in this literally god forsaken house can.

He makes sure to thank MC every time they cook, then he makes sure to thank whatever deity is watching over him that Solomon wasn’t the human staying with them.

As the months progress, Satan realizes, he should learn how to cook better. I mean, Levi and Mammon were somehow both improving in their cooking endeavours, and if MC could teach those two, then he would be a breeze.

Satan walked into the kitchen and simply asked if MC needed any assistance with what they were doing. MC just slid him some garlic to dice and that’s how this mentor/student relationship was formed.

Satan was a star pupil, but Mammon and Levi weren’t above trying to sabotage Satan’s progress to get him to leave.

Here’s the thing, the sabotage worked, but it only worked once, and the two idiots didn’t stop to think that maybe they shouldn’t sabotage the meal they were going to have to eat later.

Well, cooking lessons continued uninterrupted after the ghost pepper incident…

Even when he’s ‘graduated’ their little cooking class, Satan’s always willing to lend a hand if needed. He also will slyly hand over some recipe books and cute baking supplies that he finds. MC should be prepared for lots of cat related things to come their way.

Asmodeus

The human can cook? Oh frabcious day! He’s saved from a life of his brother’s mediocre cooking! And the human’s so cute too! What a bonus!

Not only is the human cute, but their food is just so… aesthetic??? Pretty???? Omigosh he just has to get a picture for Devilgram!

For the first few months, MC’s relationship with Asmo consists of Asmo not at all subtly asking to take pictures of their food and post it to his Devilgram. Listen MC, his followers would just love it!

Being the saint-sheep they are, MC lets Asmo sit in whenever they’re making anything in the kitchen. And Asmo slowly realizes “hey, this cute human with the awesome food is actually pretty cool too!”

New Mission: Make the human fall madly in love with him so they’ll want to hang out more.

Whether the mission succeeds is up to MC of course. (I mean, I’m already smitten with him sooooooooo-)

MC offers Asmo a lot of the pastries they make, but the Avatar of Lust almost always declines. Listen honey, he’s on a diet- wait, don’t make that sad face! He’ll eat it! Look! It’s- it’s delicious…

Diet cheat day is now every day MC makes dessert. The feeling of bliss Asmo gets when he takes a bite out of anything MC makes is only second of the treats is second only to the joy he feels at seeing MC happy that he likes their food. It’s just so wholesome I can’t-

MC’s food Devilgram has almost surpassed Asmo in terms of followers and honestly- he isn’t even mad.

Beelzebub

Gasp! Lucifer finally got him the pet personal chef he’d always wanted! Thanks big bro! :D he’ll be sure not to eat this human!

On the first night MC was supposed to make dinner, Lucifer needed to hold Beel back from breaking into the kitchen to see what was causing that heavenly smell. It was, difficult… especially because Lucifer hadn’t slept in three days.

When they all sat down to eat, Beel practically inhaled everything and held up his half bitten plate for seconds.

We here at Stupid Headcanons incorporated recommend that MC have as many bodyguards as possible stationed around the kitchen at all times to ward off a hungry Beel. We don’t want him eating the ingredients and half-tempered chocolate.

A cinnamon roll through and through, he’ll eat everything MC gives him with a big ol’ smile on his cute little face. He’s not the best person to go to if MC wants advice or critique because the best thing Beel can usually muster is “it was really good.”

As Luke said in Lesson 5, Beel would make an awful food reporter. But we love him.

Similar to Levi, he’ll give meal requests on what to make for dinner. (At this rate, MC’s going to have to make some kind of list).

He kind of just waits by the door like a sad puppy whenever MC is making anything because he can’t get into the kitchen :(

Belphegor

The smell of freshly made chocolate chip cookies wafting through the house did reach the attic and it only fuelled his rage more. How dare the human win everyone over with cookies?!

After the attic incident, Belphie was won over with cookies.

Belphie just stands creepily in the kitchen doorway whenever MC is making anything and just makes shit really uncomfortable. Why’s he doing that, you may be wondering, well, he’s trying to calculate the energy needed to swipe the bowl of cookie dough and sprint to safety.

He never succeeds, mainly because once he gets to the bowl, MC already has the wooden spoon ready to smack him, so he just freezes mid-theft and slowly puts the bowl down.

“Oh my gosh, it says let the bread dough rest overnight? Let’s get a headstart and go to sleep now.” “Belphie what-” “I made a pillow Fort, come in. Let’s sleep.” “In the kitchen????”

How’d he make the pillow Fort without MC noticing? Years of experience. He’s trained in the art of- MC? What do you mean you can’t sleep right now and you need to get a head start on shaping fondant?

…he may have eaten the fondant while MC wasn’t looking… whoops… Beel may have rubbed off on him a little…

[storiesforallfandoms]

she ain’t a gold digger ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2417

request?: yes!

“Hi, please write a MGK imagine where the reader joins him on tour and he loses his wallet and when they decide to go out to a club one night, she asks him to get something from her bag and he sees his wallet in there. He accuses her of stealing and they get into a fight and she storms off. One of the guys confesses that they found it in their suitcase by accident and just slipped it in her purse to keep it safe but forgot to tell him and he apologizes profusely to reader and after some persuasion she forgives him”

description: when his wallet goes missing and he finds it in her bag, he lets the tabloids bullshit get to him and causes a fight he regrets

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist (one, two)

The hotel room was basically overturned when (Y/N) walked in. Colson was tossing things from his suitcase, frantically searching for something.

“We’ve only been here like five minutes, is it really time to pull a full Motley Crue on this room?” she teased.

“I can’t find my wallet,” Colson said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“It’s not in my suitcase, it’s not in any of my pants - the ones in my suitcase or the ones I’m wearing - it’s not in my carry on or my jacket.”

(Y/N) crossed the room to kneel next to Colson. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. In a more calm manner, she looked through the things Colson had messily thrown about the floor. She helped him to look for the millionth time through everything, coming up empty yet again.

“Okay, don’t panic,” she said. “You had it at the airport because it was with your passport. We can call both this airport and the one we just departed from to see if it’s been turned in. In the meantime, we can lock your cards so no one can use them.”

Colson nodded, but (Y/N) could see the panic in his eyes. She cupped his face and made him look up at her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find it, and if we don’t we’ll replace it the best we can.”

~~~~~~

Despite the stress he was still feeling, Colson decided to join (Y/N) and his friends at the club that night. He was glued to his phone the entire ride there, and once they got to the club (Y/N) took it and shoved it into her purse.

“Relax,” she told him. “We’re here to have a good time.”

“But what if someone calls about my wallet?” he asked.

“Then they’ll leave a message. I highly doubt anyone is calling you at almost midnight, though.” (Y/N) laced her fingers through Colson’s and pressed her body against his. “Please baby? For me?”

Colson sighed but (Y/N) could see the smile on his face. “Fine, but you’re paying for my drinks tonight.”

He had to admit the night out was what he needed. Besides the panic over his wallet, Colson had also basically worked himself to death the past few months. Between recording and filming, and now the tour. He was just grateful that his manager allowed (Y/N) to join them on tour. He’d be out of his mind without her.

(Y/N) pushed through the crowd to where Colson and his friends were and passed Colson his drink. He smiled and pulled her down onto his lap. (Y/N) giggled as Colson pressed a kiss onto her neck.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, do us the curtesy of going to the bathroom,” Rook called over the music.

“Please, I’m more classy than that,” Colson responded. “I’d fuck her in the coat closet like a gentleman.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m gonna go dance. Enjoy your boy talk.”

Colson watched the beautiful curved figure of his girlfriend strut to the dancefloor. He finished his drink in one mouthful and went to follow her.

They danced together for so long that Colson had forgotten all of his worried for a brief period of time. He gazed lovingly into the face of the love of his life as she grinded her hips against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sheepishly smiled up at him.

“Wanna get out of here?” she whispered seductively in his ear.

“More than anything,” Colson responded. “I’ll get our things. Meet me at the front doors.”

(Y/N) smiled and winked at him as they went their separate ways. Colson pulled out the coat check tickets to get his jacket and (Y/N)’s purse, and passed it to the girl working there. As he shrugged on his jacket, he got the overwhelming urge to check his phone to see if anyone had called about his wallet.

He promised (Y/N) he’d have a good time, but she didn’t have to know he checked. He would just look and see if there were any missed calls then forget until morning.

However, when he opened (Y/N)’s purse to get her phone, he noticed something on the very top: his wallet.

Why does she have my wallet? he thought. And why wouldn’t she tell me that she had it? She knows how worried I’ve been about it.

He tried not to overthink anything before talking to (Y/N) first. He made his way to the front of the club where (Y/N) was waiting with a joint hanging partially out of her mouth. She looked over at him and smiled as a puff of smoke rolled from her lips.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked. When she noticed Colson’s serious look, her smile fell. “Babe, are you okay? Did something happen?”

He found his words stuck in his throat, so instead of speaking he just held his wallet up.

“Holy shit! Is that your wallet?” Colson nodded, still unable to talk. “Where did you find it?!”

“In your purse.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? How did it get in my purse?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

She looked up at him as she took another puff from the joint. “What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, I’m just asking a question. This is your purse after all, the only people who touch it are you and me. Obviously I didn’t put the wallet in there so that leaves one person.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Say it Colson. Fucking say it.”

“Did you take my wallet (Y/N)?”

“No! Of course I didn’t!”

“Then why is it in your purse?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned away from Colson. She started to walk away, but he followed her.

“If you took it, I just want to know why,” he said. “I’m not upset, I know there’s likely a good reason for taking it and not telling me.”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” (Y/N) snapped, spinning around to glare at Colson. “I know how this looks, I know it makes no sense, but I fucking swear to you I did not take your fucking wallet. I don’t know how it got in my purse, I don’t know why it’s there, but I did not take your goddamn wallet!”

“Then why the fuck is it in your purse?!”

(Y/N) let out a frustrated groan and buried her head in her hands. “Why can’t you just fucking believe me when I say I didn’t take it? I don’t know how it got in my purse, but I didn’t take it.”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me, (Y/N). How else would it have gotten there? You’re the only one who even touches your purse, none of the guys have had access to it. You knew when and where I had my wallet last, and now it’s showing up in your bag.”

“If I had taken it, why was I trying to help you find it? Why did I tell you to shut down your cards so no one could use them? Why was I helping you to call the airports and turn over the entire hotel room another two times looking for it? Why would I go to those lengths if I just had it instead of telling you just to replace it all?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N), maybe you were just making sure you could get whatever fucking money you could from me without me realizing.”

(Y/N)’s face fell and her eyes started to well with tears. After being together for a year, she thought he would know her better than that. She thought he wouldn’t believe the bullshit tabloid websites were publishing about her being a gold digger and just dating Colson for the money. She thought he would knew she loved him with her entire heart because of who he was, not because he was a famous rapper.

Apparently she was wrong.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned away from him and walked towards the line up of taxis that were waiting outside of the club. Colson watched her go, his anger starting to subside and be replaced by guilt. But he couldn’t go after her, he wouldn’t. He needed some time to think about all of this, to let her think about it as well. Neither one of them were going to get any answers if they kept fighting and hurting one another.

Colson entered the club again, order two more strong drinks and finding his way back to his boys. They all looked at him with confusion as he sat down where he had been before.

“Dude, I thought you left,” Baze said.

“I thought so, too, until I found my wallet in (Y/N)’s purse,” Colson muttered. “We got into a fight and she left.”

“Why were you fighting about that?” Rook asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

Colson waved off the comment, not feeling in the mood to relay the entire fight back to his friends.

“Wait, did I not tell you I put the wallet there?” Slim asked.

Colson nearly choked on one of his drinks. He coughed and turned to look at his friend. “You fucking had it?”

“Yeah man, it somehow got in my carry on,” Slim responded. “I found it when we were waiting for our luggage. I put it in (Y/N)’s purse cause I knew it would be safe there. I could’ve swore I told you that, though.”

“You didn’t,” Colson said. “God fucking dammit, I’m an idiot.”

“What did you say to her, man?” Baze asked.

“I...I insinuated that she...she’s only with me for my money and she stole my wallet so she could get it.”

The guys chorused disapproving noises at the same time.

“Kells, (Y/N) is literally the realest person I’ve ever met,” Rook said. “She ain’t a gold digger, and you definitely shouldn’t think that she is.”

“I don’t,” Colson sighed. “I was just pissed. God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Bro,” Slim said, leaning forward to look at Colson, “go after your woman and apologize.”

Colson nodded and quickly stood from his seat. The cab ride back to the hotel felt incredibly slow. Of course, he had left his phone in (Y/N)’s purse so he couldn’t even call or text her. There was no guarantee that she was even at the hotel, and that thought had Colson’s anxiety so much higher.

He desperately searched his pockets for the hotel key as he approached the room. When he couldn’t find it, he realized it was likely he had left that in (Y/N)’s purse, too. He sighed and began knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he said, his voice soft. “Baby, can you let me in? I think my key is in your purse.” When there was no movement, he added, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should’ve listened to you. Slim admitted to putting my wallet in your bag, turns out he had it all along. I...I should never have thought it was you. I shouldn’t have said what I said. Can...can you let me in, please?”

There was silence. Not even signs of movement. Colson’s heart began to race as he realized the likeliness that (Y/N) had left. He had no idea where she could’ve gone, and now he didn’t even have any way of reaching her.

The door suddenly opened and (Y/N)’s tearstained face looked up at him. She didn’t say anything as she turned away and walked back into the hotel room. Colson followed in silence, unsure of what else to say. He just wanted to hold her and apologize forever, to do anything and everything she wanted to make things better.

(Y/N) got back into bed and laid with her back to Colson. He stood there in the dark, just looking at her.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You called me a gold digger,” (Y/N) responded, her voice equally as small. “After almost a year together, you called me a fucking gold digger.”

“I know - ”

“We’ve talked about how much those tabloid stories get to me, how upset they make me, and you really had the audacity to bring that up and not believe me when I said that I didn’t take your wallet.”

The fact that her voice wasn’t angry, but rather sad, made everything so much worse. Colson winced at her words, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“I know,” he repeated. “I don’t know why I said any of that. I didn’t mean it, I know you love me. I just...I have no excuses. I am a total fucking idiot and you have every right to be angry with me. I know I’m sorry won’t cut it, but for now that’s all I can say. I really am sorry.”

There was another prolonged silence. (Y/N) didn’t even move from her place on the bed. Colson had accepted the fact that she probably hated him and was preparing to go stay with one of the guys for the night, when he heard the bed shift and (Y/N)’s soft voice ask, “Did the guys give you shit?”

Colson smiled to himself. “Yeah, they did. They called me an idiot.”

“You are one.”

“I know.”

Through the darkness of the room, Colson could see (Y/N) lift the blankets and gesture for him to join her. He quickly kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket somewhere on the floor. The minute his body connected with hers, he felt relief wash over him. He hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head and repeating the sentiment over and over.

“And I love you, as in you - Colson Baker. Not Machine Gun Kelly, not the man with the money. I love the real you.”

“I know you do. I promise I’ll never doubt that again baby.”

(Y/N) relaxed into Colson’s arms, still a bit hurt from what he had said but happy to have him there with her. Finally, after some time, the two drifted off to sleep.

[deepdonutkid]

Kismet

Requested: No

Paring: Shelby!Sister Reader x Isaiah

Words: 5624

Summary: For a year now, you had a secret relationship with Isaiah and even when he is still in the same room with you, you can’t stop feeling lonely. It’s not that you don’t love him anymore, it more about the weight of the secret you have to carry. But with Tommy as you big brother you can’t risk, telling the truth or your man might get shot.

Note:

I was in the mood for a Shelby!Sister reader x Isaiah and it turned out to be way longer than I expected it... and I even cut out dialog... So here it is!

It’s also flavored with Junior Peaky Boys fun at the beginning. And I was inspired by my homegirl’s one shot called star and my story is an addition to hers, it’s the same night, but Bonnie has some other adventures than the reader and Isaiah.

Somehow I feel like everybody is a little ooc, but I couldn’t correct it.

Requests and tag list are still open, feel free to dm me or send me an ask.

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @theshelbyclan​ 

Warning: swear words, drinking, binge drinking, gambling, a hinted smut and a sweet ending

It was one of those nights, nothing special, just the usual fellows around the same table in the Garrison.  You had fun nevertheless. All your friends were right there, you had enough to drink and you had a luck hand today. The cards seemed to work in your fortune.

Deviously smiling you revealed your hand. You just had won this round and it gave you unholy amounts of satisfactions. “Ha”, you cheered: “Suck it up.”

Your friend shrugged and shoved his coins in your direction. All he said was a very grumpy “There you go”, but it pleased you.

You took the money and peaked around the corner. Where was Michael with the drinks? He was like a brother to you, but he was just your cousin. Maybe it was because you were born just two months before his older sister, Anna. Even though, she was gone Michael came back to his real family and now you were closer than ever. You cared for him, more than your siblings did.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hit him, if he just left the bar to fuck with some random girl. It was not about him having sex, more about leaving without telling anybody. Especially when he was supposed to get drinks for the table. You moaned and said: “Where is Michael?”

“Probably doing somebody”, Isaiah joked and lit a cigarette. Then he offered you one and you took it gladly. Actually, you bit your lip and gave him the side-eye, but you had to hide your smile in front of the others. Bonnie and Finny weren’t the smartest boys in Small Heath, but you wouldn’t risk it.

You had so much fun with Isaiah that you didn’t even know when it started. Months passed by, while you were completely caught up in your little game with him. Nobody knew it. That was mainly Isaiah’s fault. At first it amused you to keep your relationship with him secret, but now you were ready to tell your family about it. Your boyfriend didn’t like the idea.

Somehow you thought Michael started to notice. He gave you the glace, which said: “I know, dear”, but maybe you were just getting crazy. You just had to be more careful around others now and everything was fine.

The night was still young and you were keen to make Bonnie lose all his money today. He had won the boxing match earlier and the bruises were still visible, but unfortunately for him, he couldn’t win against you. It was just a card game, but it filled you with gleeful joy. This and the fact that Isaiah was sitting next to you. Sometimes he would brush your thigh with his fingers, which made you giggle even more.

“There he is”, yelled Finny while being so fucking drunk, like you never had seen him before. Michael arrived with messy hair and his tie was undone, but he had your drink and that was all that you care for. “Finally”, you fluted and ripped the glass of his hand: “Thank you, babe.”

And the whiskey was still cold, which meant he fucked the girl first and ordered the drinks afterwards. “How was she? Good?” you asked before you took a sip from your whiskey. You weren’t a lightweight when it came to drinking, maybe not as well as Arthur and John, but you could tolerate much more than Ada and Finny. Your little brother was so drunk, he looked like his head was all empty and yet filled with bullshit.

Michael sat down next to you and answered: “Mhh, she was okay, but she talked too much.” Then you felt the weight of a hand on your thigh again. A shiver rushed down your spine, but it was the wrong side. Your cousin had put his hand on your knee. “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything is perfect”, you blabbered hoping he wouldn’t keep asking questions, but he did. “Don’t be so worried, every time I’m with a girl. I know you’re still a virgin, but you can get some too. Tommy wouldn’t be against it.”

How wonderfully wrong he was. Neither were you a virgin nor would Tommy be okay with this. After all, you were his little sister and he wouldn’t accept the guy, you were sleeping with. Of course, Isaiah was a friend of the family, but after the whole thing with Ada and Freddie you had something to worry about.

The best snarky comeback was right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it without letting something slip. ‘What gives you the idea I’m still a virgin?’ And yet you were silent as the guy who fucked you, sat right next to you. You felt trapped and decided to go straight forward. “Yes, he would. You know it and everybody in Small Heath knows it.”

“Oh whatever”, Michael mumbled: “Just drink enough and you eventually forget about it.”

You grinned and emptied your drink. “Fuck it, let’s play some cards. I’m not done with Mr. Gold over here.”  Then you took the cards and dealt them to start the next round.

Much later that night when you brought Finn back home and went straight back to the pub, in front of the entrance, you stumbled into Bonnie. “Is there a reason why you’re smirking?” you asked him. He was gleaming red and smiling like an idiot.

Then you remembered. “The singer, right?” Bonnie nodded and his grin got even wider. “You talked to her?” Again he gave you a silent answer. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. He was a lot heavier than you thought, but then again, you were just a girl and he was a boxer.

Sometime it was weird to only have male friends, it just happened. Maybe it was because of your brothers. Maybe that’s why you never acted like a proper girl. Of course you felt like a woman and you liked your body, but in your eyes it was so much easier to talk to guys.

“Eyy, where did you found him?” Michael slurred and helped you to put your friend on a chair again. With your hands finally free you had the chance to explain. “Found him outside. I don’t know what he did there, but he talked to the singer.”

Both, Isiah and Michael nodded. It was only logical for Bonnie to freak out after it talking to her. He was there every Friday night looking for the singer and now his brain seemed to melt, just because she said something to him. But neither of you knew, what she said exactly. Maybe this was a problem for another night. It didn’t look like Bonnie was able to answer.

So you ordered some more drinks and sat back down again. In this separate room, which was reserved for your family, it was almost too tempting to get close to your boyfriend again. Isiah looked so good that night and it hurt to be unable to touch him… or to kiss him. But you would be satisfied with just holding his hand now.

It was a curse; you knew it soon after you realized that you loved him. He was handsome, charming and a loyal friend. There was no better man for you, even though you wished you could be together in public. And again you bit your lip and moved your chair away from him.

But you couldn’t think about this anymore, it was too frustrating and luckily somebody else caught your attention. It was Bonnie who mumbled very quietly: “I think she kissed me, but it could be a dream as well. It felt so surreal.”  You padded his shoulder and nodded to underline your compassion.

It was just the same with Isaiah. Whenever you two were alone, it was amazing and beautiful. He was so soft and romantic and he just made you happy. But every time you woke up and he was gone, the sweet scenery shattered. And out in public it was getting annoying to find excuses to be with him or getting away, so you could spend some time alone with him and you had to lie to your whole family about your whereabouts. Slowly it became exhausting.

There was nothing you could do about it, so you just drank your whiskey and talked with the boys about Bonnie’s singer and the girl Michael had. It was so easy for them to display their relationship in the public, but of course you didn’t have this privilege as a girl. Apparently, you needed to be protected. Or so it has been explained to you. You wasn’t concerned for your safety but for your freedom. Tommy said it was his job as your big brother to care for you, even if it felt like he was controlling you. You have always been the wild one among your siblings and everything was fine, until your mum died and your dad left. Then Tommy was in charge and sometimes his opinions would vary from yours, which led to fights. And yet you feared what he might do, if he found out about your secret.

All the sudden Bonnie fell from his chair and you groaned. Now somebody had to bring him home as well. First Finn and now him… but why they couldn’t take the whiskey today? You weren’t nearly as drunk as them, but still.

Isaiah stood up and picked his friend up. “I’m taking him home. I’ll be right back”, he said, before leaving.

Now Michael and you were alone. It wasn’t what you wanted. The only thing you could think of was smooching the sweet lips of your boyfriend. You were caught up in your little fantasy, when your cousin woke you up again. “Isaiah is acting weird lately.”

“Oh… really? I didn’t notice”, you replied: “He seemed normal to me.” Your hand grabbed the fringe of your dress. Talking about him made you nervous.

Michael moaned and fumbled for his cigarettes. He put them out, you took one and he turned his between his fingers, when he added: “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I think he is hiding something from us.” Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag from it.

You inhaled sharply and stared into the void for a second, before answering: “Don’t be silly, he is just as loyal as ever.” Then you laughed and Michael joined in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just needed to get this off my chest.”

The rest of the conversation went just like usual. You chatted, you bickered and you had fun. While the bell already announced the new day, Isaiah came back.

In this tiny glimpse of a moment you couldn’t hide your smile and he reciprocated. Actually, you were just waiting for Michael to leave now. It was your plan all along, but patience has never been your strong suit.

It took three more rounds for Michael to say goodnight. “Take care of her, will you?” Isaiah nodded. When Michael finally grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, you felt unbelievably excited. Your fingertips slapped a melody on the table, while you watched him leaving. The door shut and now you had what you longed for all night.

You turned around and looked at him. Gosh, waiting felt like an eternity. Now you were the one smiling like an idiot. Slowly Isaiah came closer and his hand pulled you to him for a kiss. “Finally”, you whispered against his lips, before giving him what he wanted.

After you two parted you rested your head on his shoulder. Now you were getting tired as well, but you didn’t want to go to your bed. “I was waiting the whole evening for this”, he moaned and stroked your hair.

The smell of his perfume made you realized how much you missed him too, even though he was with you since you went to Garrison tonight. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. Then you signed: “I wish we didn’t have to hide” and buried your face in his shirt.

“Babe”, he replied: “We already had this conversation. It wouldn’t end well. Let’s just enjoy what we have as long as we can.” It hurt, but Isaiah was right. There was no chance Tommy was getting you off the hook, once he knew about it. And no matter how you explained it to him, he would still be against it. You were too young for stuff like that, as if he didn’t fucked Greta, when he was the same age.

You leaned back to see his beautiful face again. There was something in his eyes, a twinkle or something like that, but it always made you feel comfortable. A lick of your lip was enough to purpose the idea of doing something nasty. He knew you since you were children and it was like he could read your thoughts, especially the dirty ones.

Isaiah started giggling and asked: “Hey, babe, I still can cheer you up, right?”

Maybe it was time for some fun, different to the fun you had before with your friends. The word pleasure would describe it well and with his knowing look he gave you so many ideas. You laughed and nodded. “I think it might help when you do the thing with your tongue.”

“Oh”, he responded amused: “Like this?” And then grabbed you for a kiss and god, what a kiss it was. His tongue brushed your upper lip just to enter your mouth and explore it as if it was your first kiss. He even bit your lip playfully and kept going until you couldn’t breathe no more. Your knees started shaking and it was needless to say, he was the best kisser you ever had.

It took you a while to catch a breath again, but then you answered: “Yeah, just like this… But maybe we could go to your place and do a little more?”

He didn’t seem to be so sure about this suggestion. His thumb stroked your shoulder as he held you in his arm. Because he was so quiet for a second, you knew, he thought about this backwards and forwards. “But right when the sun comes up, you have to go back home”, he argued.

Again, Isaiah was right. You should take too many risks. Otherwise you might get caught and neither of you wanted that. All you could do was to shrug and agree: “Just don’t shoo me after we fucked.” There was bitterness in your voice. What wouldn’t you give to wake up next to him every morning?

The pub was almost empty, when you left. You couldn’t hold his hand on the way out. Everybody in Small Heath was Tommy’s spy. Back on the streets a cold wind blew. Now you had an excuse to go near him and he shared his coat with you. Isaiah was always so sweet and caring. You knew you wanted to spend your future with him. There was no other man and you wouldn’t get over him, not now and not in five years.

You even took off your shoes before entering the Jesus household and followed him on your tiptoes to his room. It was completely dark in the house and the silence was haunting, but good for you, you knew the way by now. The excitement made your fingers tremble.

Finally you arrived where you wanted to be the whole day, in his room. Isaiah closed the door as quietly as possible and started smiling. You walked up to him and started to unbutton his shirt. Now you didn’t want to waste any time.

And neither did Isaiah. He was ripping down your dress, which only worked because the straps were so thin. His hands were all over your body and you couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his skin. It felt like magic whenever he touched you. You moaned, when he played with your bare breasts. To silence you he put his thumb on your lips, which you took as an invitation to suck it. Maybe it was mean to tease him like that, but you were desperate for his affection.

An hour later you laid next to him, your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. “You should leave, before we both fall asleep, babe”, he whispered, which caused you to sign. Leaving now was draining, even exhausting. After this wonderful sex, you were too tired to move anywhere, not to the bathroom and certainly not back to your cold bed.

You pouted your lips and tilted your head, so you could give him your puppy eyes and a pretty please with cream and a cherry on top. “Just ten more minutes. Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “That’s just because I’m in this bed and you like to use me as your personal giant pillow.” Your fingers hovered about his belly. Even though his muscles weren’t tense now, you could still feel the strength lying beneath his skin.

While your index finger drew circles around his bellybutton, you whined: “Maybe… just maybe that is true, but I still want to lay here for a bit. Otherwise I start to feel like a whore, who only comes for sex and leaves silently afterwards.”  It wasn’t a knock against Lizzie or her job, but you didn’t like the feeling, when you got home and had to find sleep in your own bed. Even though you had a relationship with him, you still felt lonely. Especially when the sun was rising and nobody was by your side.

“You’re not a whore and you know that”, he argued looking a little concerned.

Then you turned on your back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m a Shelby and that is probably worse”, you scoffed.

Now Isaiah was silent and had no witty comeback for that. Maybe, because it was true. If you weren’t part of the family, you could be with anyone, whoever you wanted. Carrying the name Shelby was the only reason, why you had to hide your relationship with Isaiah.

After a while he mumbled: “Okay, stay for a while, but you should be back before they open the shop.” By that time you were already half asleep and yet his words made you smile. He wrapped his arms around you, the little spoon and purred like a cat. Just in this position the both of you fell asleep.

Loud steps were coming near the door, but they wouldn’t wake you up. The screaming of Isaiah’s name did. It was a familiar voice and it took you a couple of minutes to notice, it was your brother Finn who shouted and ran down the hall. Suddenly you were wide awake. You startled up and looked around the room. The sun was already up and shining through the window. Then you saw Isaiah, who was just as frightened as you were.

If Finn came rushing through that door, your secret relationship was no longer secret. “I locked the door last night”, he whispered, which was relieving to you, but still no perfect solution for this problem.

Now Finn arrived at the other side of the door and was knocking on it like crazy. “Isaiah, wake up! Y/N is gone. Nobody can find her and Michael said you were the last one with her in the bar”, your brother yelled. You could hear the panic in his voice, but you couldn’t get caught. Not now.

You stumbled out of the bed and collected your clothes, when you heard Isaiah ask: “What are you going to do? You can’t go out there. He will find out.” And you knew your boyfriend wasn’t concerned about Finn, more about Tommy.

The tension in the room was immense. You had to come up with a plan or your brothers would shoot your lover in front of your eyes.

Suddenly you knew what to do. You pushed the pile of clothing to your chest and squeeze it thigh, when you explained in a lower tone: “I’m gonna hide in the wardrobe and then you open the door and go with Finn away. Afterwards I can come out and then I go to the betting shop and tell the others I have fallen asleep on a bench or something.” It was not the best plan, but yet your only option.

Isaiah nodded and you climbed into the cabinet where he stored his shirt and jackets. The second you entered the small wooden space, you knew it was all going down. Call it intuition, call it divination, call it whatever power Polly owned, but you felt it rushing through your body. He closed the door behind you and then you could hear him stumble into his pants.

Only half clothed he unlocked the door to let Finn in. Isaiah was still sleepy. He wasn’t the morning type of person and before he hadn’t had his breakfast he wasn’t really available. Finn strode up and down. You heard is nervous steps. “Everybody is freaking out right now. Polly thinks somebody kidnapped her or worse. I mean, she has always been unratable in her doings, but this time my sister is really going of the edge. It’s already past lunch and nobody has seen her”, Finn explained: “This morning her bed was empty and I thought I shouldn’t worry, but now I’m afraid I should have said something sooner.”

The cabinet was very uncomfortable and yet you tried not to move or to make a noise, which would cause Finn’s attention. However, being in Isaiah’s position didn’t seem to be pleasant as well. He had to lie to his best friend about the whereabouts of his missing sister, knowing she was sitting right here. Isaiah patted his friends shoulder and said nothing.

Finn didn’t calm down and seemed to be upset, Isaiah wasn’t panicking like him. “C’mon, get dressed. We have to look for her. She might be lying somewhere in the dirt. We shouldn’t waste even more time, standing around.” Then he walked to the closet and opened just the door where you had been hiding.

Butt-naked you fell down to the floor and looked up to your younger brother, who had the same face expression as the one time you told him where the babies were coming from. Some when later you would look back at this moment and would have a good laugh about this, but right now it felt like your world was collapsing.

He should have seen you like this and it took you a whole minute to gather the mental energy to get back up at your feet and greet him like it was the normal thing to do in a situation like this. “Hey, Finny, there I am.”

Your brother froze mid movement and stared at you as if you were the first pink elephant the world has seen or a bear riding a bike. Then he broke the silence. “What?”, he winced. There was no anger in his voice, just total confusion.

Finn looked to Isaiah and then back to you. “You screwed my sister?!”

There was no answer to this question.

“How long?” Finn asked: “How long did you hide that from me?”

You glared over to you boyfriend as if you were asking him for permission to say something. Isaiah signed and nodded. There was no point in denying this anymore. It was over.

Now you had to tell the truth. “A couple of months, maybe a year or so”, you croaked and your voice sounded strange. Like it was not your own and even though you dreamt about finally opening up, it shouldn’t have been like this.

Your brother yelled: “A year?! A whole fucking year? Damn, I should be proud because apparently you two are excellent liars with no moral issues… you two deserve each other.” You heard the disgust and disappointment, when he spoke and it broke your heart. Back then, when the whole thing started you though he might be the only one of your brothers to understand you. How wonderfully wrong you were.

“No”, you said under your breath: “Don’t fucking do this to me. I would have told you, if you wouldn’t have run straight to Tommy after you knew. Everybody knows you can’t keep a secret. So don’t act like it was my fault or my mistake, because it’s not. I would have gladly told everybody, I’m like him very much, but you and Tommy and Arthur and John made it impossible for me to even talk with a guy who is not part of the gang. You can’t turn this around and act like you are the victim in all this.”

It was time for you to stand up for yourself and your decisions… and time for you to get dressed. You didn’t seem as responsible as you were when you were still naked and in front of the closed you have been hiding in. Now you knew how wrong it was to lie and hide your relationship, because it wasn’t their concern. It was your life, your body and your choice. Nobody could take that from you and certainly not your brothers. You weren’t afraid of them. All your life you saw how your brothers treated women and you said nothing about it, but this should change right now.

So you stood there, furious and filled with rage, put on your dress and your shoes and said one last thing, before leaving: “This madness has to end.”

You stormed out of the room- not caring for Isaiah or Finn- and heading for the King of Small Heath to throw him out of his high throne. Your hair was a nest and you smelled like a bar after a dirty old night, when you entered the betting shop. Nobody was there, just the regular family members.

Everybody seemed to be relieved to see you again and then came close to hug you. Ada was right next to the door and the first to greet you. “Oh my god, you’re back, sweetie”, she muttered.

Next was Polly who examined your appearance for cuts and other injuries. Of course you had none, besides the hickeys Isaiah gave you. She tried to take a closer look of your neck, but you pulled away, which caused her to ask: “What happened? Where were you all night?”

Now Tommy was coming up to you. His steps were slow, but fierce and the glare in his eyes was pinching. “Just from the smell I would guess, she was with a guy this night”, he scoffed: “She probably had a lot of fun, but now she should say, who that guy was, so we can take actions.” You knew he was addressing you, even though he didn’t phrase it like that.

“I don’t think, this is your business”, you replied with a grin on your face. You wouldn’t back down. Not this time. “But yes, I was with a guy tonight. So you don’t need to worry. I’m completely fine.”

Your older brother led out a little laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Well, well, well, I don’t care what you think. I’m your brother and it’s my job to make sure you’re safe”, he explained: “And now you tell me who he was.” Ah, past tense, a hint of what was going to happen.

You crossed your arms and tiled your head to give him a dismissive look. “Who said it was your job?” was your comeback, but your brother wasn’t remotely impressed. Neither of you would let the other win. You were too stubborn for this gesture of insight.

Others, including Arthur and John, were somehow intimidated by Tommy’s behavior, but not you. Actually, you learned too much from him to take his shit.  He taught you to help your head up high and how to outsmart your enemies.  Now you could use the same strategies against him.

“Ever since our father left and mom died, you act like you are in charge, but you’re not. We are your siblings, not your pawn, waiting for your command”, you hissed: “I have my own life and I make my own decisions and who I meet shouldn’t concern you.” Slowly your anger grew. It was a boiling feeling in your gut, like you were fueled with fire.

Tommy was getting gleaming red. You had hit the right spot and you knew you would hurt him with your words, but otherwise he wouldn’t understand. The words were stuck in his throat as he killed you with his looks.

Patiently, you waited for his answer. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, but silencing your brother was the best thing ever, since he was the reason why you felt miserable lately. “No comeback? No arguments, dear?” You loved to poke his wounds and you did it with a huge smile on your face.

“As if you would listen to me… You even said it yourself. You wouldn’t take my advice”, he responded and bid his lip. “But I don’t need to talk to you to teach you a lesson. You’re too young to fuck around town and I’m going to find the bastard who did this and kill him.”

The door was opened behind you and soon Finn entered the room. You gave your little brother the death glare you were known for. He shouldn’t get the idea he was allowed to talk about what he found out.

You should be raging right now, but all you could do was laugh. His empty threats weren’t as daunting as he thought. With nothing but spite you whistled: “I would love to see you try. I kept this a secret for over a year now and you noticed nothing. And now I can wait another year for you to find him… or I could run away… whatever you prefer.”

Now you’re pushing your luck. Finn could ruin everything, if he just said one wrong word. The palms of your hands were sweaty. It was a dangerous game you played there, but it was not like you could back out of it now. This was road of no return.

Tommy seemed to be more surprised than fuming, when he asked: “You slept with some geezers for a year now?” He respected your talent to keep it under the radar. Everybody who could shirk his rules deserved acknowledgement for putting up with this risk. Maybe he was finally realizing how much you had grown. You weren’t his little kitten anymore.

“No, not geezers, just one guy”, you corrected him: “But yes, that is true.”

You watched Tommy as he walked around the table, heading for the whiskey, while he nodded understandingly. “Mh, so you would say it’s love?”

A sign came from your lips. You already knew the answer, but you weren’t so sure, if you should say this out loud. After all, you didn’t even have a proper talk about this with Isaiah. Silence was filling the room, while you calculated your risks. If you said, you loved him and Isaiah wasn’t as serious about the relationship, you would look like an idiot. Good for you, he didn’t come to the betting shop to witness the fight between you and your brother. Finally you decided to tell everybody: “Yes, I do.”

“Good”, Tommy mumbled while he poured his whiskey: “Then you should have my blessing. Just give us the name now.” He took a sip and seemed to be amused by your embarrassment.

Talking about Isaiah, while he wasn’t present, was weird, but you knew why he stayed in the comfort of his own room. You weren’t mad at him for not running after you. This was your fight and not his. And after all your brothers were a little scary, when it comes to stuff like this.

But you had Tommy’s word now and nothing should happen to your man. You shrugged and rolled with your eyes. The fuss they made about this was still annoying.

Ada patted your shoulder and encouraged you to speak. “Do we know him?” The answer was yes, but it was also the reason, why you struggled to say it out loud.

Even John chimed in and kept pushing: “Yeah, what’s up with this fella?” He was smiling to let you know the mood had changed. Nobody was against you anymore.

“It’s…”, you started and fumbled for the seam of your dress: “It’s Isaiah.”

At first it was dead silence, while the others processed the information, then Arthur and John burst out in laughter. Finn seemed to be relieved, because he would have hated it to keep a secret like this. Your older sister was hugging you a little too tight and even Polly was smiling.

Tommy had a smug on his face when he muttered: “If that’s the case, then you should have your happiness.”

“Isaiah is a fine fella. You will be alright”, hummed Arthur. Apparently everybody was happy with your choice. You just had to stand up for yourself.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders and then you could laugh about it too. But suddenly you remember that Isaiah was still waiting for his death in his room. “I should go and let him of the hook”, you fluted and already went to the door when you heard Tommy said: “Don’t get pregnant or he has to marry you.”

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Figuring it Out Together - Fred Weasley

Title: Figuring it Out Together Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Male receiving oral, female receiving oral, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, some dom/sub elements but nothing too intense, begging, semi-public sex Summary: landing in detention with the person she hates most is the last thing Y/N ever wants to do. But of course, with Fred Weasley around nothing ever seems to work out the way Y/N thinks it will. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted an enemies to lovers smut with Fred! The summary is shit but what else is new lol. Thank you so much to @fandomscombine​ and the two anons who helped me develop this idea!! Requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! I’ve started a tag list, so send me a message or ask if you’d like to be added! Tags: @pandaxnienke​

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“Oi, Weasley! Get your ass back here!” Y/N shouts, chasing behind Fred as he heads towards the Gryffindor locker room with his brother. Fred and George stop in the tracks and turn around at the same time, the exact same cheeky smile on their mouths.

“Y/N!” George greets as she approaches.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Fred asks.

“You!” Y/N growls, pointing at Fred.

As Y/N comes to stand in front of them they both can’t help but notice how angry she is. Her face is flushed red and her eyes are dark and narrowed. Thankful that her anger seems to be directed at Fred, George gives his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning around and following the rest of the team into the locker room.

“Me?” Fred teases, pointing to himself. “I’ve done something to rile up Miss prim and proper Y/N? Give me a moment, I need to bask in the glory.” Fred closes his eyes, tilts his head back and opens his arms as if the heavens have opened up and sunlight is gleaming down on him.

All this does is infuriate Y/N further, and when she finally gets close enough she shoves Fred as hard as she can. He doesn’t really move much, but it shocks him, and that’s enough for her. “What’s your problem you fucking prick? Why did you do that?”

“You’re going to have to elaborate, darling,” Fred responds casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a lot of things I’ve done in my life to classify me as a prick, so I’m going to need more details.”

“You broke his arm,” Y/N clarifies, gesturing towards the Quidditch pitch.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Your brother has suffered far worse injuries during a game, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey will have him fixed up in no time. No need for all the dramatics.”

Fred’s casual attitude does nothing but make Y/N angrier, and she shoves him again. “Most of them due to you no doubt! You knew how important this game was and yet you still had to go out of your way to be a complete asshat!”

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have just finished a grueling match, and Fred spent most of it hitting bludgers at Y/N’s older brother Matthew like they were the only two people on the pitch. While Y/N normally would be loving the opportunity to rub in her house’s win, Y/N had been praying for Ravenclaw to win this particular match. It’s been Matthew’s dream to be a professional Quidditch player since he was a little kid, and this match was his opportunity to make that a reality. Scouts from a few different professional teams were in attendance, and the Ravenclaw team has spent weeks fitting in extra practices to give them the upper advantage on Gryffindor.

Even Y/N was positive that they would take the win, until Fred made it his personal agenda to ensure Matthew never scored a goal. Y/N’s brother had spent most of the game whizzing around the field avoiding Fred, and he failed to score a single goal. And the icing on the cake was that 20 minutes before Harry caught the snitch Fred hit a bludger so hard that Matthew couldn’t avoid it, and it came into direct contact with his arm – shattering quite a few of the bones in it.

Fred huffs. “What did you want me to do? Throw the game so your stupid brother could show off to all of those recruiters? Me hitting bludgers at him so he doesn’t score is kinda the whole point of the game, Y/N.”

“Don’t try and act like I’m the one in the wrong here, Fred!” Y/N shouts, gathering the attention of some of the students heading back towards the castle. “You were focusing a bit too hard on Matthew and you know it! There was six other Ravenclaw players on the pitch, did you think about trying to hit some bludgers towards them?”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N,” Fred spits, returning her anger. “It’s a fucking game, get over it. Why do you always have to be such a bitch? You suck the fun out of everything.”

Y/N is seething with anger, and just as she starts to pull her hand back to slap Fred across the face, Professor McGonagall is stepping in between them.

“What on God’s green earth do you two think you’re doing?” McGonagall asks, looking between the two of them. “Mr. Weasley, Ms. Y/L/N. Detention, all next week and I’ll have 50 points from each of you. Now I suggest you two go find something else to do before I make it a month.”

Y/N flips Fred off as McGonagall walks away before she’s turning on her heel and stomping back up to the castle.

-

“Will you sit down, your pacing is making me dizzy,” Matthew groans, putting his head in his hand.

“Sorry,” Y/N apologizes, giving her brother a sheepish smile. She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, trying not to jostle Matthew too much. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal his arm quickly, but some of the potions she’d given him left him quite dizzy, so he’s still resting in the Hospital Wing.

“Fred is a prick, Y/N. You didn’t have to confront him,” Matthew says, looking up at Y/N. “Although I really wish you would have slapped him.”

“If McGonagall had only showed up a few seconds later,” Y/N laughs. “I’ve never had the urge to hit someone before but there’s just something about his stupid face that makes me so mad. You’ve been working so hard for this match and then he called me a bitch,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t feel bad, and besides, this is a moment we should be celebrating.” When Y/N gives Matthew a confused look he laughs. “Your first detention! I’m so proud of you,” he says wistfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“Oh shove it,” Y/N says with a giggle. “I’m going to be stuck in a room every night for the next week with Fred doing whatever McGonagall wants, sounds lovely,” she adds sarcastically with an eyeroll.

“To be fair most girls would kill to be in your position,” Matthew points out with a laugh. “Locked in a room for hours on end with Fred Weasley. That’s like a girl’s wet dream come to life.” When Y/N grimaces at the thought Matthew gives her a look. “Every girl except for you apparently. Why do you even hate Fred so much?”

Y/N gives Matthew a look of surprise. “You can’t be serious?” When Matthew continues to look at her dumbfounded she scoffs. “You were at this school for two years before I was and all I heard when you were home on break was how much of an annoying prat Fred is. I mean I tried not to hate Fred just because you did when I got sorted into Gryffindor and he was pretty okay at first. But one day he just started being a dick to me and I realized you were right.”

“Probably because you’re my sister. I’m always on his case about pulling pranks or messing around in class, he probably figured you’d be the same way,” Matthew reasons.

Y/N shrugs. “Well he’s a bag of dicks anyway, so I’m not too bothered by it.”

-

Monday evening comes far too quickly for Y/N’s liking, and after dinner she trots off to the trophy room, Fred begrudgingly following behind. McGonagall is already waiting for them, and she directs them to sit on the couch in front of her. Y/N takes a seat and practically hugs the arm rest so she’s sitting as far away from Fred as possible.

“The behavior you two exhibited on Saturday was unacceptable and downright barbaric,” McGonagall scolds, her tone sharp. “You’ll be spending the week making sure every one of the trophies in this room shines like it’s brand new.” Y/N looks around at the vast amount of trophies in the room as McGonagall hands them each a rag. “This should give you plenty of time to not only think about your actions, but to resolve whatever animosity exists between the two of you.” She gives them each a stern look before heading towards the door. “I’ll be back to check on you both.”

Y/N groans as McGonagall shuts the door behind her and she hoists herself off of the couch towards the mantle, needing to put some space between her and Fred. McGonagall may want them to sort out their issues, but Y/N wants nothing to do with Fred, and she still has some lingering anger from their fight on Saturday so she’s sure all it would do is end in another detention. Y/N grabs a random trophy and starts scrubbing at it, keeping her back towards Fred.

“This is such bullshit,” Fred mutters to himself after a few minutes of working in silence. Y/N can feel his glare and her shoulders tense up, but she doesn’t say anything or turn around. “This is all your fault you know,” Fred continues a few moments later when Y/N continues to ignore him.

Y/N places the trophy she’d been working on back and picks up another one, determined not to give Fred a reaction. Clearly he’s trying to instigate her into getting into more trouble and while Fred may be used to serving detention Y/N plans on making this week her one and only stint. Y/N finally relaxes after a few minutes of silence, when Fred starts to hum some random song rather loudly and out of tune.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Y/N mutters to herself as she starts to work on another trophy. “Shut up!” Y/N demands, slamming the trophy she’d been working on down. As much as she wants to just ignore Fred, she also wants to keep her sanity.

“No,” Fred responds dully before he continues humming.

Y/N turns around to glare at Fred, and the sweet smile on his face only annoys her further. “Can you not be an asshole? For like, once in your life. Let’s just get through this week and then we can continue to hate each other from afar.”

Fred places the plaque he’d been working on down and leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms. “Why should I make this easy on you? You’re the one that got me into this mess.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. You totally didn’t shout back at me or call me any names. You just stood there and let me yell at you,” Y/N responds with an eyeroll.

Fred narrows his eyes. “You started it,” he fires back. “I was on my way back to the locker room when you ran up to me and started shouting. And don’t forget you shoved me a few times. I only shouted back because I was tired of listening to your stupid voice.”

“Oh please, you barely moved when I shoved you. You’re acting like I broke your arm or something. Oh wait, that was you,” Y/N reminds him harshly. “You broke my brother’s arm during the most important Quidditch game of his life!”

Fred stands up and takes a step towards Y/N, his fists clenched. “You’re still on that? It’s a game Y/N! I wasn’t trying to break his arm, it just happened! You’re being such a fucking cry baby over nothing!”

“I’m not being a cry baby!” Y/N insist, taking a step towards Fred.

“Oh you’re right my mistake,” Fred spits. “You’re being a fucking bitch!”

Y/N brings her hand out to slap Fred, but his hand wraps around her wrist tightly. Before she has a chance to try and struggle against his grip Fred is pulling Y/N into his chest and kissing her hard. Y/N kisses him back with enthusiasm and moans into Fred’s mouth as his hands land on her bum and give it a tight squeeze.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” Fred growls as he starts to bite and suck at Y/N’s neck. “You’re annoying as hell too,” he reminds as his hands shove up her shirt. “But so fucking hot.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Y/N demands, bringing their lips together again. Fred may be an annoying git, but even Y/N has to admit that he’s attractive and being with Fred will definitely make detention more interesting. “You have too many clothes on,” Y/N pants as they break apart, her hands starting to loosen Fred’s tie.

“I could say the same to you, princess,” Fred says, smirking when a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. Normally the nickname would make her blood boil, but in this context it makes her pussy throb.

Y/N tosses Fred’s tie away as his fingers start to make quick work of her button down. “Why are these uniforms so fucking hard to take off,” Y/N groans as she starts to work at Fred’s shirt as well.

“That desperate for me already, Y/N?” Fred teases as he pushes her shirt off of her shoulders. He leans down to suck a mark onto the top of her breast as his hands move around her back to unhook her bra.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley,” Y/N chides as she takes Fred’s shirt off. Her bra finally hits the ground, and Y/N lets out a whine as Fred’s mouth starts licking and sucking at her nipples. “You kissed me first, remember.”

“Only because I wanted you to shut the fuck up.” Fred steps back and sits on the couch, pulling Y/N down onto his lap. She straddles his waist and they both moan as she grinds down against him. Fred’s hands start to massage Y/N’s breasts and his thumbs start to roughly rub her nipples, causing her to let out a breathy moan. “That’s right, princess. Keep making those noises for me.”

Y/N bites her lip and rocks down against Fred again, determined to keep every noise that bubbles up her throat down. This seems to only spur Fred on, and his head dips down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud as his other hand continues rubbing the other. “Fuck, Fred,” Y/N moans, unable to keep it in any longer.

“Love the way you moan my name,” Fred praises, rocking his hips up into Y/N. He’s painfully hard in his trousers and he’s desperate for some friction. “Although I think there’s something even better for your mouth to do, princess.”

Y/N is dripping wet in her panties, and she hates to admit that the thought of sucking Fred’s cock sends a tingle right through her core. “Gonna have to ask me for it, Fred,” she teases, sinking to her knees in front of him.

Fred kicks his shoes off as Y/N undoes his belt and starts to work at the button of his trousers. “Look at you, you’re practically drooling,” Fred taunts playfully. “Give it another few seconds and you’ll be begging me to put my cock in your mouth.”

“You sure about that?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred. She pulls his trousers and boxers down to his thighs in one go, and Y/N has to bite her tongue to keep from moaning as his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. Fred exudes big dick energy, and Y/N’s pussy throbs as her hand wraps around him, pleasantly surprised that his size matches his personality.

Fred throws his head back and groans as Y/N starts to slowly stroke him. “Just fucking suck it already,” Fred demands. “You know you want it, slut.”  

“Thought I was your princess?” Y/N teases  as she leans forward, her tongue coming out to kitten lick at his sensitive head.

“Only good girls get to be called princess,” Fred moans, his hand fisting in her hair. “Bad girls who don’t do what I tell them get called slut.” Fred tugs on Y/N’s hair, and he smirks at the moan she lets out. “So you better get sucking if you wanna be my princess.”

Y/N presses her thighs together to try and get some relief on her clit as she decides what to do next. She desperately wants to suck Fred off, but a part of her wants to hold off for a bit and push him to beg her instead. But as Y/N strokes Fred, a bead of precum bubbles up on the tip of his cock, and it makes her mouth water.

“That’s it, princess,” Fred moans as Y/N finally takes him into her mouth and swallows him down. He watches as his length disappears into Y/N’s mouth, his hips twitching as he hits the back of her throat. “Fuck your mouth feels amazing. Gonna have to shove my cock into it every time you get mouthy with me.”

Y/N hums around Fred, her hand starting to work at the part of his cock she can’t fit in her mouth. She pulls her head back so her tongue can twist around the tip, Fred’s moans and pants only encouraging her further. Y/N bobs her head down, gagging as Fred hits the back of her throat. She starts to pull back, but Fred’s hips surge forward, fucking his cock back into her throat and making her gag again.

“Did I say you could fuck my throat?” Y/N scolds as she pulls off. Fred’s hips lift up again to chase her mouth, and she wraps her hand around his cock.

“Sorry princess,” Fred apologizes smugly. “You sound so good gagging around my cock I couldn’t help it.” Fred uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to bring her mouth back towards his crotch. “Just keep sucking, I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t really want to anymore,” Y/N teases. Her thumb swipes over the tip of Fred’s cock with every upstroke, causing his hips to jerk. “Gonna have to beg me for it, Fred.”

Fred groans. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N. Fine don’t suck my cock,” Fred says flatly, trying to bait her into taking him back down her throat. “Your hand feels just as good,” he groans.

Y/N narrows her eyes at Fred and pulls her hand away. “You wanna come from a hand? Then you can get yourself off.” She stands up then and kicks off her shoes before slowly shimmying out of her school skirt and panties. Y/N then lays back on the floor with her feet flat, knees bent and open so Fred can see her dripping core. She props herself up on one elbow and looks Fred dead in the eyes as her other hand starts to wander down to her pussy. “You can use your hand, and I’ll use mine.”

Fred watches in rapt awe as Y/N starts to slowly rub her clit, small moans falling from her lips. His cock twitches and he resists the urge to wrap his hand around himself. “Look how fucking wet you are, princess. All of that, just for me?” Fred bites his lip as Y/N starts to tease her entrance with her finger. “How about you come on my cock instead?”

Y/N whines as she sinks a finger into her heat, her attention completely focused on Fred. She watches as he stands up and gets rid of the rest of his clothes, her pussy throbbing at how wet his cock is still from her saliva. When Fred settles on his knees between her legs, Y/N reluctantly stops her movements on her core and places one hand on Fred’s chest while the other wraps around his cock.

“You wanna fuck me, Fred?” When Fred nods and goes to move forward, Y/N shoves him back. “Gonna have to beg me for it.”

“Stop fucking around, Y/N,” Fred complains. “You’re desperate for my cock and you know it.”

Y/N’s walls clench around nothing and her hips buck as if they’re searching for something to fill her. “Beg me for my pussy, Fred,” Y/N demands. “Beg me, and I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Let me fuck you, princess, please,” he begs. “Wanna ruin you with my cock, stretch that pretty little pussy out.”

Y/N is desperate for release at this point, and Fred begging for her only makes it worse. She immediately lets go of him and grabs his face, pulling him down for a messy kiss. As soon as he’s free to move Fred inches forward and slams into Y/N, both of them moaning as he buries himself in her completely.

“Fucking hell, Fred,” Y/N moans. Fred starts to fuck into her quickly, hitching one of her legs over his shoulder so he can move deeper inside of her. “Oh my fucking god right there,” Y/N pants as his cock starts to drag against her g-spot on each thrust. “You fill me up so good, Fred, fuck. Such a big cock, fucking me so well.” Fred starts to rub her clit, and her walls clench around him.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Fred compliments. “Can feel your walls stretching for me, like they were made to take my cock.” Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and he’s rewarded with the hottest moan he’s ever heard. “Bet I’m the biggest you’ve ever taken. Aren’t I, princess?”

“Oh fuck, Fred,” Y/N gasps, her orgasm suddenly hitting her. She can feel her walls tightening and spasming around Fred, and her legs start to shake as pleasure washes over her. “Come inside me Fred please,” Y/N begs as she pulls their mouths together.

Fred’s hips still as he releases inside Y/N, his hips just slowly rolling to help him through his orgasm. He kisses Y/N slow as they both come down and once his cock stops twitching Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and sits back on his shins. They both just sit their basking in the pleasure that’s still coursing through their veins, when footsteps start to approach the door.

“Shit, shit, fucking shit, that must be McGonagall,” Y/N panics, scrambling to find her clothes.

Fred grabs his wand and casts a spell at the door to keep it from opening. “Quick, get dressed. That’ll only stop her for a few minutes.”

They both get dressed hurriedly, and Y/N has just barely grabbed her rag and started to scrub at a random trophy when the door bursts open.

“Bloody old doors,” McGonagall mutters as she steps inside. She eyes both Fred and Y/N quizzically and Y/N holds her breath, waiting to be told off. “And how are things?” she asks.

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “Going well, professor.”

Fred nods in agreement. “We’ve been hard at work. Merlin’s honor,” Fred adds.

“Very well then. I shall see you both tomorrow after dinner.” McGonagall steps out of the way, and both Y/N and Fred practically throw down the things in their hands as they rush to leave the room.

They walk back to the common room side by side, neither of them really sure what to say. Fred says the password as they reach the Fat Lady, and he lets Y/N go in first. Before Y/N has a chance to say anything to Fred he’s heading to join George on one of the couches, and Hermione is calling Y/N over.

“How was detention?” Hermione asks as Y/N reaches the table she’s sat at.

Y/N shrugs, trying to keep from blushing. “It was fine. Pretty boring actually.”

“Only four more days,” Hermione says with a laugh. “I’m working on that Charms essay if you wanna join me.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m just gonna go upstairs and grab a quick shower first and then grab my stuff.” Y/N can feel Fred’s release dripping out of her and into her panties, and she’ll never be able to focus on her homework if she doesn’t get cleaned up first.

“See you in a bit then.”

Y/N gives Hermione a smile before she turns on her heel and starts to head towards the staircase. Her legs are still a little shaky, and as she takes the first few steps up she stumbles a bit. Y/N looks back to see if anyone noticed, only to be met with Fred’s eyes. He gives her a sly wink, and she flips him off before disappearing up the stairs.

-

“So detention with Weasley was okay?” Matthew asks Y/N the next morning at breakfast.

They’re sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as always, and Y/N is thankful for the space it gives her from Fred. Last night was the best sex Y/N has ever had, and the fact that it was with someone she has hated for years has done nothing but confuse her further. She still hates Fred without a shadow of a doubt, but Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t want it to happen again.

“Yeah, it was pretty chill. McGonagall had us scrubbing trophies and stuff in the trophy room for hours which was mind numbing but, other than that it was uneventful,” Y/N lies. Telling her brother about her sex life is low on the list of things Y/N wants to do under normal circumstances, and it’s even lower when her partner is someone her brother considers an enemy.

“A bit of hard labor never hurt,” Matthew jokes, causing Y/N to choke on her orange juice.

“Yeah right. Hard labor,” Y/N tries to joke back once her coughs have died down. If only he knew the kind of hard labor we got up to Y/N thinks to herself as her eyes wander over towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes meet Fred’s and she has to look away to avoid blushing.

“Hello, earth to Fred,” George calls, waving his hand in front of Fred’s face.

Fred drags his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at his brother. “Sorry, what did you say?”

George chuckles and looks over his shoulder to see what had Fred so occupied. “Ah, Y/N,” he drawls, looking back at Fred. “You were pretty quiet after you got back from detention. Did something happen?”

“No, not at all,” Fred lies, hoping his cheeks don’t start to heat up. Much like Y/N, Fred is completely confused about their encounter. He’s loathed both Y/N and her brother for as long as he can remember, but less than 12 hours ago they were having some of the best sex Fred has ever had and he’s already thinking about what they might get up to when they’re alone tonight.

“I was kinda surprised you came back in one piece,” Ron adds with a laugh. Fred throws his spoon at Ron, and the younger boy dodges it. “No need to be so rude. You two have hated each other for years and she looked ready to beat your ass on Saturday. I figured she’d take the opportunity to do it when you were alone.”

“Why do you two hate each other so much?” Hermione asks from Ron’s side. “It seems like you’ve been at each other’s throats since our first year.”

“I hate her because Y/N is an uppity asshole like her brother. Matthew is always getting me and George in trouble and Y/N does the same,” Fred explains. “Your first year, George was serving a detention with Snape and I set up what was going to be our best revenge prank yet. I went all out, it took weeks of planning.  Except it never went off. Someone ratted on me and McGonagall intervened. I got in probably the worst trouble I’ve ever been in, Mum sent Howlers for days afterwards. I was in detention for months.”

“I remember that! Mum was still pissed at Christmas,” Ron says.

Hermione knits her eyebrows together. “I remember that too. But what does that have to do with Y/N?”

Fred sighs. “When I was leaving the prank to wait for George so we could set it off, Y/N passed me in the hallway. It had to be her who ratted me out just like her brown-nosing brother.”

“But it couldn’t have been Y/N. I spent most of the afternoon with her in the library working on a Herbology assignment. Ron and Harry were there too,” Hermione explains, and both Ron and Harry nod in agreement. “She must have passed you on the way into the library. By the time we left the library you were already in trouble, there’s no way she could have gone to see McGonagall between the time she passed you and when she got to the library.”

“Bet you it was Malfoy,” Harry adds. “He was leaving the library as Y/N entered, remember? He shoved her into the door jamb as they passed by each other.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Fred interrupts, his tone dripping with confusion. “You mean to tell me that I’ve spent the past 5 years hating Y/N for something she didn’t even do?”

Hermione nods. “Seems that way.”

Fred groans and stands up. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Fred heads out of the Great Hall and towards class, feeling even more confused than he had before.

-

“You plan on ignoring me all night, princess?” Fred says quietly, coming up behind Y/N. McGonagall has just barely shut the door behind her to leave them be and Fred doesn’t want to waste any time. He’s decided in the time it’s been since breakfast that he really isn’t sure how he truly feels about Y/N and having sex with her seems to be the best way for him to figure it out. He’d been trying to catch her attention all day, but Y/N barely even glanced at him.

“How the hell do you move so quietly?” Y/N asks, toying with the rag in her hands. Truthfully Y/N had planned on ignoring Fred. She spent most of the day trying to decide what to do about this murky new relationship they’ve gotten themselves in, and finally settled on letting Fred take the next step. Y/N is prideful above anything else, and she’d rather streak through the hallways naked than come on to Fred when he only saw their sex as a one-time thing.

Fred presses a kiss to the side of Y/N’s neck, smiling into the skin when she shivers. “You didn’t answer my question, princess.”

“You that desperate for me already, Fred?” Y/N teases, turning around to look at him.

“No,” Fred responds slowly, his gaze flicking to Y/N’s lips for a moment. “But I know you enjoyed last night, as did I. So I don’t see why we can’t do it again.”

“Maybe because we’re supposed to be shining these stupid trophies, not having sex. We barely did any work last night and I have a feeling McGonagall will notice when everything looks the same again,” Y/N responds in lieu of actually responding to Fred’s preposition.

“I can take care of that,” Fred insists. He takes his wand out of his back pocket and casts a spell which makes several of the trophies around them shine like diamonds. “There. Now McGonagall will have no idea what we were really getting up to in here.”

Y/N drops her rag and turns around, her arms winding around Fred’s neck as his wrap around her waist. She bites her lip, unable to stop her eyes from traveling down to Fred’s mouth. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” Y/N says softly, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Outside of this room I still hate you and you still hate me. Got it?”

“Of course, princess,” Fred confirms. Once Y/N relaxes in his embrace Fred wastes no time and presses their lips together, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

Y/N moans into the kiss, one of her hands trailing down Fred’s torso to his hardening erection. She palms him lightly, smirking when his knees quiver. “So hard for me already, Freddie? You miss being buried in my pussy that much?”

Fred starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck, one of his hands inching up her skirt. He pushes the fabric aside as he sucks a mark into her skin, and let’s two of his fingers rub through her wet folds. “You’re one to talk,” Fred teases as Y/N gasps. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re dripping wet. Been thinking about my cock, princess?”

“Fred,” Y/N whines as he sinks a finger into her heat. She clenches around him, her hand starting to palm him harder.

Fred pulls his hand out of her panties and kisses away Y/N’s pout. “Your mouth felt so good on me yesterday, princess,” Fred starts, leading them over to the couch. “And tonight, I’m gonna use my mouth on you to say thank you.”

Y/N shivers as Fred pushes her back onto the couch, her arousal growing even more. His voice is deep and slow, the complete opposite to how it was last night. Yesterday they had both teased each other, but it’s clear by Fred’s actions so far that he’s in no mood to play the same games again.

“How generous,” Y/N teases, watching as Fred starts to unbutton his shirt.

“If you want me to tease I can tease,” Fred muses, dropping his shirt on the ground next to his tie. “Or you can get naked and I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to let you cum.”

Y/N immediately kicks off her shoes and wiggles out of her skirt and panties, letting them drop to the floor. “Please eat me out, Fred,” she pleads as her hands start to work at the buttons of her shirt.

Fred kicks Y/N’s discarded clothes out of the way and drops to his knees, grabbing a thigh in each hand. He pulls her legs apart and settles in between them before pressing kisses up her thigh and towards her heat. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, princess?” Fred stops to suck a mark on the inside of her thigh, only an inch or two away from where Y/N needs him most. “Bet you taste so good, princess.”

“Put your mouth on me and you’ll find out,” Y/N pants, fisting a hand in Fred’s hair.

Fred looks up at Y/N, his mouth running dry and how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and her school shirt lays open, the tops of her breasts spilling out over the cups of her bra. Fred can still make out some of the marks he left on them yesterday as her chest heaves with deep breaths. Y/N’s stomach is quivering and Fred dips down and licks a long strip from the bottom of her pussy to the top to keep himself from blurting out just how beautiful he finds her.

Y/N moans as Fred’s tongue starts to flick at her clit, tugging his hair slightly. Fred’s fingers are digging into her thighs and it only turns her on more. “More, Fred, please.”

Fred’s tongue travels down from Y/N’s clit to her dripping entrance, slowly sliding into her as he collects her juices. He moans at her taste, letting his tongue fuck in and out of Y/N’s pussy. “Knew you’d taste good,” Fred praises. He sucks Y/N’s clit into his mouth and takes one of his hands off her thigh so he can sink his index finger into her.

“Freddie,” Y/N whines, bearing her hips down onto his finger. He curls it inside of her, and Y/N clenches around it. “Wanna come, please,” Y/N begs.

Fred nibbles lightly on her clit, teasing a second finger around her entrance. “Gonna have to come from just one finger, princess. Want my cock to stretch you out.” Y/N lets out a loud moan at that, and Fred smiles as he presses a wet kiss to her clit. “You like that idea, princess? My cock splitting you open?”

“Fuck me now, Fred,” Y/N demands, tugging on his hair again. “Wanna come around your cock.”

Fred licks up Y/N’s core one last time before he pulls away and starts to work on taking the rest of his clothes off. “Fuck, Y/N. You can’t say shit like that to me and not expect me to bury my cock in you every chance I get.” Fred stands up to get rid of his bottoms, watching as Y/N tosses her shirt aside and takes off her bra. “Don’t think I told you how incredible your tits are yesterday, Y/N. They’re so soft and round and perfect,” he groans.

Y/N flushes under Fred’s praise and climbs onto his lap when he sits down next to her. She presses their lips together and kisses him messily, one of her hands gripping his shoulder while the other reaches around to grip the base of his cock. “Gonna make me do all the work, Weasley? Typical man,” she teases, letting the tip of his cock tease her entrance.

Fred’s hands land on Y/N’s hips and he smirks as their lips connect once again. When Y/N teases her entrance again, Fred jerks his hips up and slams her down at the same time, shoving his cock all the way into Y/N. “What was that, princess? About me doing all the work?”

Y/N gasps as Fred enters her, her walls twitching around him. “So fucking big, Fred, holy hell. Feels like it’s splitting me in two. Feels so good.”

Fred hums and kisses Y/N again as she starts to bounce on him, his hips meeting her thrusts. “Riding me so good, princess,” he groans. “You feel amazing around me. Always so tight for me.” One of Fred’s hands travels to Y/N’s core and starts to lightly rub her clit while the other starts to pinch and toy with her nipple. He leans forward and presses his lips to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Not where people can see,” Y/N warns, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. She leans back to brace a hand on Fred’s thigh, whining at the new angle. The tip of Fred’s cock rubs her g-spot with each movement, and Y/N can feel her orgasm building.

“But that’s half the fun,” Fred pouts, examining the few bruises he’s left on her neck. “Want everyone to know who this pussy belongs too.”

Y/N moans as Fred’s head dips down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth. “So this pussy belongs to you?” Y/N stutters, her eyes fluttering closed as Fred nibbles on her nipple and starts to rub her clit faster.

“Does it not?” Fred asks, fucking his hips up into Y/N harder. “Or is there someone else that makes you feel this good?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he pinches her clit and nipple at the same time, her orgasm taking over her suddenly.

“Fucking hell,” Fred moans as Y/N tightens around him and collapses into his chest. He grips her hips and moves her on his cock as he chases his own release. “How the fuck are you even tighter?” He groans as Y/N clenches around him again, and he brings her down on him one last time before his cock starts to twitch and he releases inside of her.

Fred starts to rub Y/N’s back as they both come down, whining as she shifts on his softening cock. “So good for me, princess,” he praises, pressing a few kisses to the side of Y/N’s face.

Y/N pulls away from Fred slightly so she can kiss him. Their lips move together softly and Y/N whines into it when Fred lifts her off of his cock. “Feel so empty without you,” she admits sheepishly, her cheeks heating up.

Fred chuckles and starts to trace shapes into her sweaty skin. “Trust me, love. If McGonagall wasn’t due to barge through that door any minute now we’d be getting ready for round 2.”

-

By the time Friday rolls around Y/N is more confused than ever. Every time her and Fred go their separate ways after detention leaves her with an empty feeling in her chest and she’s not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that Fred has started being nice to her outside of their detentions too.

Instead of his usual hard glares she finds him looking at her softly during meals and he greets her every time their paths cross instead of ignoring her as per usual. Their housemates are starting to notice Fred’s change in behavior as well. One morning he lets her have the last piece of bacon on the platter, and Hermione gives her a questioning look. When she’s doing homework in the common room with Harry and her ink runs out, Fred pulls a new bottle out of his bag and immediately hands it over to her, causing Harry’s jaw to practically drop. It’s almost as if they’re friends now, and it only complicates things in Y/N’s head further.

Y/N has found herself actually enjoying Fred’s tenderness, and she doesn’t quite know what that means. Tonight is the last night they’ll have to spend together, and Y/N is both scared and curious about what that means for their relationship. She spares a glance at Fred from down the table as Hermione chatters on about something, and she looks away quickly when his eyes meet hers.

“Last detention, what are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” George asks, pulling Fred’s attention back to him. When all his brother does is shrug, George frowns. “What the hell has gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird all week and now you almost seem, sad that your detention is over with.”

Fred bites his lip, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. “Just been thinking about stuff.” Fred has gotten himself in a major problem, and he’s been trying to figure out how to get himself out of it all week. After his second time with Y/N things became clearer to Fred, he certainly doesn’t hate Y/N anymore, and he’s found himself developing feelings for her. He wouldn’t say he’s in love, but he’d be lying if he said he can’t see himself falling in love with Y/N.

He’s been paying more attention to her since his revelation that his deep-rooted hate was based in a misunderstanding, and he’s noticed so many things about her that he finds so endearing. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s had her moaning and writhing underneath him every day this week and every time she moans his name his heart swells.

“This about Y/N?” George asks carefully, not wanting to push Fred too much. Being a twin has its advantages, and while he can’t say he knows what’s going on in Fred’s head he can tell something is off with him and it’s not too hard to guess why.

“I don’t hate her anymore,” Fred admits quietly. “And it’s not like I’m in love with her or anything, but I think I could be. Someday. If she would let me.” Fred sighs and looks at George. “But I’m pretty sure she still hates my guts, I mean how could she not? I’ve been a dick to her for years and it’s stupid of me to think that a few nights of sex can change that.”

George chokes on his pumpkin juice. “You two have been screwing?”

“Shh, shh,” Fred says quickly, looking around to make sure no one overheard. “Keep your voice down, I don’t need the whole school knowing. Especially Y/N’s brother.”

“I thought you two were just making out or something,” George continues quietly. “Now I know why you’re so happy when you get back from detention every night.” George wiggles his eyebrows at Fred, and Fred rolls his eyes in response.

“We agreed that we wouldn’t continue hooking up after our detention was up and things are going to go right back to how they were before it started,” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But I don’t feel the same way about her as I did before and I don’t know if I can start pretending to hate her.”

George gives Fred a sad smile and ruffles his hair. “I wish I could help you, Freddie.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Fred watches as Y/N stands up to head to detention, and he slowly follows her lead trying not to pay too much attention to how her hips sway.

-

“I guess this is it,” Y/N says quietly, trying to not let the sadness she feels creep into her chest. Fred has just finished fucking her into the carpet and she’s cuddled into his side as they catch their breath. In a few minutes McGonagall will be back, and whatever this is between her and Fred will be over.

“Guess so,” Fred responds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His chest is already aching, and they haven’t even parted ways yet.

Y/N tilts her head up and catches Fred’s mouth in one final kiss. “It was nice, to not be your enemy for a bit.”

“Let’s not go back to being enemies then,” Fred says carefully. When Y/N looks up at him worriedly Fred musters up what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Friends?”

Y/N nods, trying to figure out why Fred’s offer of friendship simultaneously makes her happy and sad. “Sure, friends.”

They part and get dresses quietly, barely even able to look at each other. When McGonagall finally pushes through the door their standing at opposite ends of the room, and the awkwardness in the air is evident.

“I hope you two learned your lesson,” McGonagall says quietly before watching the two of them scurry away, their heads hanging low.

-

Despite the fact that she and Fred had agreed to be friends, Y/N can’t help but notice that he’s ignoring her. It’s been a little over a week since their last detention, and Fred hasn’t even said two words to Y/N. He’s barely even looked at her. His sudden disappearance from her life has left her both sad and angry, and she’s started to realize that maybe it’s because she really wanted to be more than friends with Fred. She thought maybe he had wanted that too, but with his sudden cool attitude, Y/N isn’t going to be the one searching him out to get to the bottom of it.

“Okay, you’re like, the best sister ever,” Matthew greets as she comes to sit next to him at the Ravenclaw table. It’s fairly early on a Saturday morning, so the Great Hall is still pretty empty.

“I mean I know that,” Y/N says with a laugh as she sits down next to him. “But do you wanna explain why you’re suddenly realizing it too?”

Matthew rolls his eyes and waves around the letter in his hand. “I got this in the mail today, no need to be so coy.”

“What is it?” Y/N grabs the letter from him and scans over it briefly. “One of the teams is going to send another scout to your next game. That’s amazing!”

Matthew frowns at her. “You mean you didn’t write to them?” When Y/N shakes her head, his frown turns into a look of confusion. “The letter says someone at school wrote to them and asked them to reconsider drafting me and that I’m a better player than I demonstrated.”

“Must have been someone on the team,” Y/N muses, taking a sip of orange juice.

“That’s what I thought, but look at the team they sent the letter to,” Matthew insists, tossing the envelope to Y/N.

She looks at it closely, noticing the team emblem embossed into the parchment. “That’s your favorite team,” Y/N points out.

“That’s why I figured it was you. You’re the only one that knows they’re my favorite, and it’s kinda weird that out of the six or seven teams that sent scouts this person would send a letter to the one team I’ve always wanted to play for.”

Y/N’s jaw drop as a conversation she’d had with Fred one night as they laid next to each other to recover. She offhandedly mentioned how sad Matthew had been after receiving a rejection letter from his favorite team. She thought nothing of it at the time when Fred asked her which team it was, but it all makes sense now.

“I think I know who sent that letter. I’ll be back.”

Y/N heads out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, all kinds of emotions flowing through her body.

“Fred!” Y/N shouts as she throws the door to his dorm open. All three of the boys in there jump, frightened by her sudden appearance. She starts to storm towards Fred, and George and Lee take the opportunity to sneak out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Do you mind?” Fred says dully. His back is to Y/N and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

As Y/N comes to stand behind Fred she can’t help but notice that he’s standing next to his bed in nothing but his boxers. His hair is messy, and she figures he’s only been awake a few minutes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Y/N reminds him. “I need to talk to you.”

Fred sighs and turns around to look at her, sitting on his bed. “What?” His voice shakes, and he prays Y/N doesn’t notice.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N asks, trying not to lose her nerve. Fred looks beautiful sitting there, and it’s taking everything in her not to crawl into his lap and kiss him.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Lots of things are wrong with me, Y/N. You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“Why did you send that letter? To the quidditch team?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fred smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “They weren’t supposed to say you sent the letter,” he mumbles.

“They didn’t. But the only person who knows about Matthew’s dream to play for that team besides he and I is you. And since he didn’t send the letter and neither did I it had to have been you,” Y/N pauses, looking at Fred. “Why did you do it?” she asks again, softer.

“I dunno,” Fred responds with a shrug. “I could tell you were upset about the whole thing, so I figured I’d reach out. The worst they could do is send a letter back to me saying no. And then you’d never have to know about it. And if they said yes Matthew would never know it was me who sent the original letter in.” Fred bites his lips. “I just wanted to do something to make you feel better.”

Y/N’s heart melts. “You did it for me?”

“Why are you surprised? I figured it was obvious there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Or have you forgotten about the seven orgasms I gave you last Thursday?” Fred teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks flush and a shiver runs down her spine at the memory. “Why go through all that and not even take the credit for it?”

“Because of what you said, the second night of our detention,” Fred starts. “You made me promise that us hooking up wouldn’t change our relationship outside of detention and I very clearly broke that promise.”

“But I thought we agreed to be friends?” Y/N admits softly. When Fred nods she sighs in frustration. “Then how come you’ve been ignoring me? I’ve seen you less in the past week than I did when we hated each other.”

“Because I don’t want to be just your friend,” Fred admits. “I want to hold your hand and take you on dates and kiss you and fuck you in my bed. Or your bed. Any bed really I still have fucking carpet burn on my knees,” he jokes, trying to diffuse the air in the room. “I’m starting to feel things for you, Y/N. And I thought just being your friend would be enough but it’s not.”

“Freddie,” Y/N whispers, taking his hand in hers. “Why not just say all that then?”

Fred rolls his eyes. “Maybe because you’ve spent the past five years hating my guts? And you were pretty adamant that you wanted to continue hating me no matter how much sex we had.”

“You seemed to hate me pretty strongly too,” Y/N points out with a quiet laugh. “I wanted to hate you still, I really did. No offense,” she apologizes, squeezing Fred’s hand. “But as we spent more and more time together inside and outside the trophy room I couldn’t even remember why I started hating you in the first place. Your issues with Matthew are your issues with Matthew, and I shouldn’t have made them my issues with you too.”

“That’s why you hated me? Because of Matthew?” Fred asks, pulling Y/N onto his lap.

“It sounds stupid now. But it made sense at the time,” Y/N says quietly.

Fred grips Y/N’s face carefully and brings their lips together in a slow kiss. Their mouths move together softly, and Fred can’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. Fred nibbles on Y/N’s lips to ask permission to enter her mouth, but Y/N keeps her lips shut tight. Sensing her sudden hesitation, Fred pulls away. “What’s wrong? I thought all that meant we were going to move towards something more. Did I read it all wrong? Oh god I did. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

Y/N presses a reassuring kiss to Fred’s mouth. “It did mean we’re moving towards something more. I want to be something more with you,” Y/N admits. “I just. I don’t know how to be something more with you, Freddie. I don’t know how to be your girlfriend.”

Fred chuckles. “Well I don’t exactly know how to be your boyfriend either.” Fred kisses Y/N again sweetly. “But that’s the fun part of a new relationship, isn’t it? Figuring it out together.”

“At least we’ve already got the sex part figured out.” Y/N laughs as Fred stands up and throws her down on the bed.

Fred crawls up the bed and drapes himself over Y/N. “Doesn’t hurt to work on it, though,” Fred teases, kissing her hard.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it. 

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends. 

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee. 

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did. 

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it. 

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out. 

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

 "It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out. 

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked. 

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought. 

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit. 

"Okay, I understand.” 

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-” 

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

 He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently. 

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

 "Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions. 

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

 "Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat. 

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?” 

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately. 

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did. 

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now. 

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

 “I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.” 

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on. 

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running. 

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.” 

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything. 

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office. 

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

 Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you. 

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

 “Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

 And that's when you noticed. 

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced. 

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days. 

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

 "No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night. 

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally. 

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

 He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​  @rivers-rambles21​  @emmabarnes​@goodcleanfunsis​ @valsworldofcreativity​

[babbushka]

Some of those prompts are so funny! Can you please write this one for Flip or a Kylo AU? It’s hilarious!

“I may be loves bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.”

A/N: This silly little something is completely inspired by chatting with my dear friend @safarigirlsp !

2k, Flip chugging his respect women juice aka being his wife's #1 fan (he's a lil confused but he's got the spirit) cw: lowkey 1970s misogyny

Flip’s about ready to bang his head on the fucking desk in front of him from frustration, when he hears it. Those magic words that somehow get him through the day, each and every day, when the hours drone on and on and on at the station, when he feels like he’s been there for six years instead of only six hours.

In the habit that he and Ron have built up ever since being desk neighbors in the narcotics unit’s special glass office, Ron has finally come around and saved him from sudden death by boredom, by slapping a hand on Flip’s shoulder and happily announcing, “Present for you in the lobby.”

“Shit it’s already lunch?” Perking up at once, Flip shoves himself away from his desk, sparing a glance to his watch and seeing that it was in fact noon. He doesn’t even bother to push his chair in as he weaves through the other desks in the office on his way to the door, stopping himself before practically bolting to ask, “Thanks Ron, you stickin’ around? She said she was bringing stuff over for us.”

Ron only nods, knowing that Flip wants to get to you as quickly as possible, and so he spares him the conversation so that the detective can do just that.

You’re beautiful, as you always are, in the lobby of the CSPD. Currently chatting away with one of the secretaries at the front desk, you’re dressed in that new outfit Flip likes so much, your hair done up all pretty and fashionable. Instantly, his day is made better just by your being here -- something that he’s grateful for, because his day had been pretty fucking trying up until this point.

“Hi honey!” You catch sight of him, face lighting up, and Flip can’t resist a smile when you’re so happy to see him like this.

His cowboy boots take him across the lobby and into your arms, and he’s immediately taking the weight of the basket that you’re carrying out of your hands, placing it gently on the floor so he can squeeze you tight with a hug and a kiss.

“Hey ketsl, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pats your ass lovingly, before picking up the basket and leading you through the lobby back towards the rec room.

“Right back at you handsome, I hope you’re hungry, I brought you the biggest roast beef sandwich I could possibly make.” You wink at him, and like clockwork, his stomach growls, making him chuckle a little.

“You’re a fuckin’ miracle and a half, I’m starvin’ -- ”

Suddenly, you stop with a frown, looking through the little window of the door to the conference room as you pass by it.

“What’s going on in there?” You ask, pointing your thumb in the room’s direction, and Flip doesn’t know what you mean.

“Huh?”

“Is there a meeting that you’re missing?” You ask, and Flip frowns then, because he doesn’t think so anyway.

But save for Jimmy and Ron, it looks like the entire narcotics unit is crammed into the conference room, along with a handful of rookie cops, homicide detectives, janitors, and even some of the press. They’re all watching someone draw a big graph on the black board, the unmistakable sound of chalk squeaking punctuating the speaker’s passionate presentation.

“No, Chief would’ve said something...oh for fuck’s sake.” It takes Flip two seconds to recognize what’s on the chart, and immediately he’s shaking his head.

It’s a line graph, the Hot-Crazy Matrix, this new thing that’s got all the men in the country thinking they know everything about women. The gist is the hotter a woman is, the crazier she gets, and everything about it rubs Flip the wrong fuckin’ way, especially when he presses his ear against the door and listens in on what they’re actually saying.

“...If you find yourself in the Fun Zone, your main goal is to move out of the Fun Zone to a more permanent location.” “Now above the ‘crazy’ line, we have the Danger Zone. This is your redheads, your strippers, uh, anyone named Tiffany -- ”

“Hairdressers!” One of the men from the back of the room shouts.

“Yes, hairdressers, this is where your car gets keyed, your tires get slashed, and you wind up in jail. At this point you have to understand that this is not a static environment. This is a situation where you have got to use this matrix over time to develop some relatable data. At any moment in time, any woman that you have previously located on this chart can vanish, and reappear anywhere else on the chart.”

“Let me break this up really quick -- ” Flip reaches for the door with a dark scowl on his face, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“No.” You look at him with wide, playful eyes, “No I think we should sit in on it, see what they say. Cause a little trouble.”

Flip loves the way you think, and with a sigh, he makes sure you stay behind him as you both slip through the door, unnoticed with how quiet you are. All eyes are on the blackboard as the speaker -- a greasy looking beat cop -- draws a line on the chart.

“Now, above an eight ‘hot’ and between a seven and a five ‘crazy’, this is your Wife Zone. When you meet this girl, you should consider a long term relationship. And if you find a woman who is below a five crazy, and above an eight hot, this is your Unicorn. We call them that because they do not exist. If you happen to find one, please uh let us know, we’d like to study it and try if we can, to replicate it.”

There’s a round of laughter from the crowd, and Flip can feel your hand tense in his own. He’s practically unable to hold himself back, when the cop finally sets down the chalk, dusts off his hands, and regards the room as someone else turns the lights back on.

“Anyone have any questions?” The cop asks, and Flip’s clearing his throat before he knows what he’s even doing.

“Yeah, hi.” Drawing all attention to him, Flip puts his hands on his hips, towers tall above all the other men in the room by at least three inches, and deadpans, “Have any of you actually spoken to a woman before? I mean, for longer than the two minutes it takes for them to reject you.”

That’s clearly not what the men in front of him were expecting, because they just blink, slackjawed like the morons they are.

“What?” The speaker asks, caught off guard.

Flip sighs, lights up a cigarette and crosses his arms over his chest, puffing out a big intimidating cloud of smoke.

“Show of hands, who here is married?” He waits, and predictably, no one comes forward. He knows this, because he knows all the married couples at the station. You make it a point to know them, anyway. “Okay then, well, who here has a girlfriend? Who here has ever had a girlfriend?”

Still no hands, and maybe Flip shouldn’t be surprised, the kind of men that believe this shit are the kind of men that either wind up alone or abusing poor women that they can manipulate into staying with them, and Flip doesn’t have the time or energy for it much longer.

“Interesting.” He muses, having made his point while the room murmurs amongst themselves.

One particularly stupid cop makes the mistake of trying to be a tough guy, some pipsqueak five-foot-four wannabe wrestler speaks up from near the front of the room, “We don’t need your condescending bullshit, okay, Zimmerman -- ”

“And women don’t need your bullshit charts splitting them into categories of fuckable or not, and yet here you are.” Flip cuts him off, and you feel a sense of pride blooming in your chest. Flip is a good boy, it’s why you married him after all.

“You’re only saying that because your wife is standing right next to you.” The cop tries to push his buttons, and maybe it’s because Flip hasn’t eaten yet, but anger itches up his spine, and soon the crowd is parting like the Red Sea, for Flip who is gunning straight for him.

“Oh yeah? How’d you think I got my wife you piece of shit? Because I promise it wasn’t by treating her like some shiny object to win.” Flip grabs the cop by the front of his uniform, and hoists him clean off the floor so that he can pull him up to eye level.

“Well then maybe you got lucky and married the only woman in Colorado Springs who isn’t a huge bitch.” The cop doesn’t know when to quit, does he?

“That’s not fucking true, my wife is a bitch and I love her for it.” Flip’s temper flares, and he’s about to raise his fist to punch this guy in the face, when he hears your voice from across the conference room where you’ve been watching with an amused smile.

“Flip, come on let’s go eat, lunch is getting cold.” You say, even though technically the sub sandwiches were supposed to be cold anyway. They don’t need to know that though.

Flip drops the schmuck, lets him fall to the floor with a thud, and walks towards your outstretched hand. Apparently that’s funny to the guy, because he slaps his knee and scoffs with a dry laugh.

“See? You’ve gone soft from love. Maybe we’re better off without it.” He tries to get the other guys to chime in, but they at least know what’s good for them, and instead just scratch the back of their necks, averting Flip’s gaze.

“I may be love’s bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.” Flip places his hand in yours, and you give his palm a tight reassuring squeeze. Looking down at you sweetly, he flicks the ash of his cigarette onto the floor and holds the door open for you leaving the conference room with a patronizing, “And at least I have a damn good woman to come home to. You losers enjoy your pity party.”

Finally in the rec room, you and Flip relax with Ron and Jimmy, your CSPD boys enjoying the big sub sandwiches you made and brought over. The little excursion in the conference room ate up only about fifteen minutes of Flip’s lunch hour, something that you and your husband are happy about. He’d be pissed off if he wasted any more time than that.

Everyone enjoyed the sandwiches and bottles of pop, most especially your Flip, who happily sat you down on his lap and wound his arms around you, feeling extra possessive.

“Out of curiosity, where in that chart would you put me?” You ask Flip, expecting him to take a couple moments to mentally weigh his options.

To your unamused surprise, Flip, Ron, and Jimmy all unanimously answer just about as soon as you’ve finished asking the damn question, not one of them even bothering to swallow their sandwich first before replying, “Danger Zone.”

“Hey!” You smack Flip’s chest with a scoff, and Ron and Jimmy immediately break out into laughter.

“You asked.” Jimmy points out with a shrug, just lucky that he’s out of your reach, lest he get smacked too. Ron also dips out of the way, but it’s only a moment later that Flip’s got his hold on you tighter, preventing you from swatting at your friends.

Flip holds you and kisses all over your cheek, his goatee tickling you as he presses his face against yours, nuzzling his nose against yours sweetly even though he’s basically just called you crazy.

“I married you anyway, didn’t I?” Flip’s big brown eyes try to sweeten the deal, and as much as you want to give him a hard time for being such a dork, you have to admit that it works.

“Thin ice, Zimmerman, thin ice.” You shake your head playfully, relaxing into Flip’s embrace a little as he settles you properly onto his lap again from where you were a wiggle worm, squirming away.

“You love me.” Flip smiles.

And despite it all you have to roll your eyes and grin because, “Yeah, I really do.”

---------------------------------------

-----

Tagging some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky@sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions@direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux@kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow@babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks@materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000@rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings@groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless@angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975@cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen@caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

[maddiewritesstucky]

Ok ok ok so this isn't exactly jock 'verse related but it also kinda is & I need 2 tell u or I might explode 🤣🤣🤣 its legit a perfect fanfic trope but irl

So, my university has fraternities like a lot do BUT there's this dude (he's in a few classes with me) & this dude is just a Frat. Bro. thru & thru. He loves his frat & would likely die 4 those boys. Idk literally anything else about him besides the fact that he knocked a girl up his freshman yr & now, just, brings his kid everywhere. 2 zoom meetings & 2 in person classes (according 2 my friend) when we had them 😅

but wait

it gets Better.

I learned today when we were sharing about ourselves that his "frat name" (idfk how that shit works😂) has transitioned from a pun on his last name 2 just- D A D D Y

All the other dudes just. call. him. daddy.

YES HE IS A LITERAL FATHER BUT Y?

y are so many frats so straight that they loop back 2 being gay?

NONNIE I AM BESIDE MYSELF 🤣

Literally everything about this is fucking incredible!?

Being one of those dudes who probably ends up getting matching ‘bros in, bros out’ tattoos with The Boys™️ by the end of college? Impeccable 👌

This very same bonafide FratBro rocking around with a baby? DELICIOUS 👏

You already had me, Nonnie, but then you go and heap on the fact that there’s a group of young adult men casually walking around referring to this man as DADDY?!?

T R A N S C E N D E N T 🙌

This might be the best story I’ve ever heard to be honest. And you know what, as for the relevance to JockVerse? I think this fits right in, and I’m gonna go ahead and tag my girl @rainbowsandcoconut here because you’ve probably just made her day by prompting me to write this, Nonnie.

Consider, if you will:

Bucky having to take care of his 6 month old niece on short notice, on a day when he can’t afford to skip class. It’s a short day for him, only one morning lecture then a team meeting, so he just...brings her with him

In a baby carrier, strapped to his front, so he can still carry his backpack and have his hands free

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, and no one in his lecture takes issue because she sleeps pretty much the entire way through

But when he walks into the meeting and his teammates clock his situation?...

“I knew this day would come! I knew Barnes was gonna knock someone up!”

“How could you not tell us you had a spawn? I thought we were friends, man!”

“Jesus, she looks exactly like you.”

(That one’s accurate - this kid is all Barnes, dark hair and slate eyes and perfect little Cupid’s bow)

“Nah, this is our new linebacker,” Bucky lifts her out of the carrier and grabs her blanket out of his backpack, spreading it on the floor to let her stretch her little body out

She’s a pretty chill little person so she’s unconcerned by the bunch of jacked up football players all kinda crowding around, she just looks at them all in turn, babbling a quiet assessment of the situation to herself

Steve and Coach Fury walk in at the same time, and they both do a double take - Fury, because “why is there a goddamn baby on my floor?” and Steve, because Bucky’s hands - those grabbing, pinning, shoving, spanking hands that he’s so intimately familiar with - are now very gently slipping a tiny sock onto a tiny foot

“Barnes is playing Daddy!” Clint oh so joyously informs them, and Fury just kinda shakes his head and mumbles something about how he’s ‘been waiting for some bullshit like this’

Bucky explains his situation, and Steve doesn’t say much of anything, but his face is doing a whole lot of something. There’s no time to examine that though, because Fury is getting the meeting underway

It all goes pretty much as normal, except this time when Bucky’s running his mouth about how they’re gonna fucking obliterate the opposing team at the upcoming playoff, he’s doing it with a baby in his arms and his fingertips drawing soft, absent patterns over her belly; occasionally cupping his hands over her teeny ears when his verbiage gets a little more colourful

Steve does not know what to do with the duality of this

Since when does Bucky know how to do shit like one-handed prep a bottle of formula? Where the fuck is this soft-ass smile coming from? Why is Steve’s gut doing weird swoopy flippy stuff every time Bucky quietly coos “oh, you think so?” to his niece’s incomprehensible little sounds?

Crisis 2.0 comes when Clint insists on referring to Bucky as ‘Daddy’ for the entirety of the meeting, even after Bucky points out the inaccuracy, because in Clint-logic it would apparently be “way too fuckin’ weird to call you ‘uncle’”

This is not a kink Steve has ever considered before, it’s certainly not one he and Bucky have played around with, but fuck if his body isn’t doing some Thangs at hearing that title used on Bucky. His throat gets inexplicably dry every time, and a few strangled sounds make their way out when he’s not quick enough to catch them

He knows it’s not lost on Bucky, he can feel Bucky looking at him every time Clint drops the D word, but Steve can’t bring himself to return that stare

It’s a miracle Steve survives this maelstrom at all, to be honest. It’s making him think entirely too hard, and he doesn’t want to think when it comes to Bucky. The whole point of them is that they don’t have to think

He disappears pretty quick after the meeting, and it doesn’t go unnoticed, but Bucky decides to be gracious this time and let it slide...

...At least, he does until the next time he’s putting Steve through the headboard, when he just can’t help but tuck his smug grin right up against Steve’s ear, and purr “...gonna come for your Daddy?”

[whumpmatsus]

Karamatsu getting fed up with Ichi? Leading to tears being shed. I love that content. Lol

hehehe I'm a slut for Iromatsu, I LOVE these two!!

I wasn't sure which one of them you wanted to cry, so... have both of them shedding some tears, which is always nice, two for the price one one, huh? :D

-

He tries.

Karamatsu tries so hard not to let his younger brother’s strange hatred upset him.

What did he ever do to Ichimatsu, after all? Sure, Karamatsu is a… ‘painful’ guy, as he’s been told, in general. He can’t remember doing anything in particular to Ichimatsu that he hasn’t also done to his other brothers, though. And as much as he can acknowledge he’s not perfect, all he’s ever really tried to do is love his brothers, take care of them, and try to be happy himself.

The others at least have the good sense to ignore him if he’s doing something a little excruciating. Ichimatsu, though… Karamatsu thinks he’d rather be ignored than hated and insulted.

Like today. The others are all out with their own plans ― Jyushimatsu playing baseball, Osomatsu gambling, Choromatsu job hunting, and Totty at lunch with friends. Karamatsu has been left alone with Ichimatsu, via his own choice. His younger brother has just barely gotten over a cold that, by some miracle, none of the others managed to catch.

Instead of leaving like everyone else, what has Karamatsu been doing? Staying at home trying to look after Ichimatsu. Even though he’s not really sick anymore. Even though Ichimatsu isn’t doing much except reading magazines and cuddling with his cats and nodding off every so often. Even though Karamatsu could be doing something else.

Ichimatsu seems like he couldn’t care less that his big brother stayed behind to watch him while everyone else abandoned him. Karamatsu is the only one who had any second thought as to watching after him. Every touch against his forehead is slapped away in an instant, every query about him needing anything is met with a scowl and a, “Shut up”, and… all in all, it appears Ichimatsu would be happier if he were all by himself. He’d rather be alone than with Karamatsu.

They’ve both been quiet for a long stretch, awkward in each other’s company. At least they’ve distracted themselves with a magazine each, so maybe Ichimatsu can tolerate Karamatsu as long as he’s not speaking.

There are a few little coughs from Ichimatsu’s direction, like he’s been giving all day; a cough is usually the last thing to go for him when he’s been sick. Instead of tapering off as they’ve been doing, he continues to cough, sounding like he can’t catch his breath. When Karamatsu looks over, Ichimatsu is half curled in on himself, shoulders shaking as he tries to get past the fit.

The second eldest is on his feet in a second, stepping over toward the sofa. “Ah, Ichimatsu, my dear brother! Would you like me to get you a drink? Some tea with umeboshi might soothe that―”

“G―ahk―od, get AWAY FROM ME!” Before he can get too far, Ichimatsu shoves him away even in the middle of coughing. Only a moment later he’s taking regular breaths again, though apparently no less pissed. “I don’t need any tea. I’m fine! And in case you didn’t notice, you’re not Mom, so you can stop acting like a mother hen! Actually, just die!”

It’s nothing Ichimatsu hasn’t said before, to be completely honest. He’s pushed Karamatsu away more times than anyone in this family can count. It shouldn’t really be a surprise, should it? He doesn’t like Karamatsu too near him at the best of times, unless they’re sleeping, never mind when he’s already irritated.

Still, for some reason, something inside Karamatsu snaps at this outburst.

There are already tears forming when he pulls away, clenching fists, heels digging into the floor. He can’t explain it; something about the way his little brother just yelled at him hurt more than anything else.

“Why do I even bother with you?!” His voice comes out harsher and rougher than he meant it to. If anyone else were listening in, it would be evident that he’s on the verge of crying. He loves his brothers more than anything, including Ichimatsu, he loves them all more than he loves himself. It’s never made sense to him why Ichimatsu seems to hate him more than anything. It’s frustrating. If Ichimatsu doesn’t want him around, maybe he should just leave.

And he can’t help it, the way the tears start to stream down his cheeks. The last time he cried in front of his brothers was… high school, or shortly after in the next few years? It hasn’t happened in a long time. That it’s happening now, in front of Ichimatsu who can’t stand him, who doesn’t care, is just another nail in Karamatsu’s pathetic coffin.

“I love you so much, and you couldn’t give less of a damn about me!” He presses a hand to his eyes in an attempt to stem the tears like he might if they were blood, but predictably it doesn’t work.

His heart is pounding frantically against his ribs, panicking that he’s losing his cool exterior in front of the one brother who will never let him live it down, anxious that he’s done something so wrong to make one of his siblings hate him so much. He doesn’t know what and he can’t fix it and maybe he should just give Ichimatsu what he wants.

Everything is eerily silent as Karamatsu continues to cry. After a moment it dies down to nothing but a few shuddering sobs, and when he looks at his little brother through blurry eyes, he thinks Ichimatsu looks… uncomfortable?

Well. Fucking. Good. He should be uncomfortable.

Finally, when Karamatsu is breathing normally enough to say something, he tries to steel himself against the carpet, legs straight as he can get them, fists tight, trying not to buckle and end up in a heap on the floor. He looks at Ichimatsu with what’s possibly the most pitiful expression he’s ever given anyone.

“What… what have I done wrong?” he manages to choke out, in such a smaller voice than his usual one that it almost doesn’t even sound like him. “How have I failed you to make you hate me so much?”

“Wh―” Ichimatsu actually seems to be startled. He’s all wide eyes and body halfway off the couch as if he’s going to stand up and his expression might be more at home on someone who’s just been stabbed in the back. “You didn’t… I’m not… i-it’s not like that!”

Excuses, right? That’s all Ichimatsu ever seems to give. “Then what is it like, Ichimatsu?! I must have done something!”

“You’re such a dumbass! God! Not everything is about you!” Ichimatsu suddenly changes position, curling up into a ball as much as he’s able to. It’s a few seconds before he says anything, and when he does, it sounds… like he’s crying?

“You didn’t do anything,” he mumbles. “It’s me. It’s my problem. I’m the asshole. You’re painful and I can’t stand you sometimes and I don’t… I can’t… it’s not anything you did. It’s my stupid, garbage bullshit. You know I’m the worst of us all and you still think how I feel is because you did something wrong?”

All the wind is out of Karamatsu’s sails practically in an instant. He never considered before that Ichimatsu’s feelings about him could notbe his fault. After all, Ichimatsu is fine with the rest of their brothers. It’s only Karamatsu that he has a real, burning issue with. So how could he not think he’s done something to cause that?

After another few minutes of quiet, Karamatsu walks over and sits down next to Ichimatsu. Far enough away that he isn’t pressed up against his brother when Ichimatsu might not want that, close enough that it’s undeniable he’s here. He gently places the box of tissues from the table between them, taking one to wipe his own eyes.

He has a feeling they might end up needing these.

When he speaks up, he does so softly. “Ichimatsu… I think we need to talk. Just you and I.”

Ichimatsu lifts his head after a moment. It’s not a huge gesture, but it’s something that doesn’t push Karamatsu away.

“… Yeah. You’re probably right. Can I… have a tissue first?”

[avintagekiss24]

waiting on you > steve rogers

|| pairing: steve rogers x black!reader

|| word count: 3,608

|| warnings: smut, sex, angst, sad steve, sad reader, friends to lovers

|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ SSB2020 N4: love confessions

|| note: here it is! 24hrs late BUT, technically, you can celebrate a birthday for like an entire week. this got stupid sad because i was listening to the atonement soundtrack again. anyway, happy birthday to this big, blonde, dummy - the only reason that july 4th means anything to me anymore. i went heavy with the italics again.

divider by @writeyourmindaway​

gifs (at the bottom) by @/largoaneditt

You don’t know why this idiot makes you so nervous. He’s a big, blonde… idiot, but yet here you are, nursing your third beer, staring at him from the corner of the room as he wiggles his hips - rather suggestively. He stands next to Sam, both of them facing the opposite wall, beers in hand, shaking their asses as the rest of the party goers hoot and holler.

“I don’t know Rogers,” Bucky says, shaking his head, “I think your age is finally catching up with your ass.”

“Bullshit,” Steve laughs, “Listen, I happily turn over my shield and suit to you, Sam, but that is my moniker! Look at it!” He shouts, pointing to his ass, “This will always be America’s ass!”

The room erupts in laughter and you can’t help but chuckle yourself. Idiots. All of them. He looks good tonight though - relaxed, finally. You’ve known them all for just a little while, Wanda, Steve, Sam, Bucky, but since Steve has officially decided to retire, he’s like a completely different person. He’s Steve - not Captain America. Which has actually proven to be an absolute nightmare for you because if you thought you had a crush on Captain America... whew, be still your beating vagina.

Steve is funny. Steve is confident, and laid back, and wears fitted chinos with Vans Classic Slip Ons. You have Sam to thank for this updated style of Steve’s, and you honestly want to stab Sam right through his buff chest. He’s made it impossible for you to be around Steve without having to change your underwear - a fact that Sam finds hilarious, but your wallet does not.

But, it’s more than that. Steve is also warm. He’s attentive to his friends. He listens. He cares. Steve goes out of his way to make people feel welcome, even you, the first night you wandered back to Sam and Bucky’s apartment with Wanda for one of their parties. You never left Wanda’s side, keeping your head down, your eyes cast at your hands and feet. He picked up on your nervousness quickly, but didn’t outwardly address it. He just made sure you always had a drink in your hand, a chip or sandwich to nibble on - he even adjusted the thermostat when he noticed you running your hands up and down your arms. 

Steve is easy to talk to. Steve is humble, reliable, dependable, strong - both physically and mentally - but he’s also... emotional and vulnerable - not just sometimes, but almost all the time. Then, he can turn right around and throw somebody through a wall. Steven Grant Rogers is dangerous… and you think you lov -  

You take a sip of your beer, closing your eyes quickly to chase those thoughts away, and reach for another chip, loading it up with some of Wanda’s famous dip before you shove it into your mouth, the taste calms your nerves. 

“Why are you hiding over here?”

His voice makes you jump. You pop open your eyes and inhale sharply as the one and only Steve Rogers towers over you. He smiles softly as you blink at him, before he reaches for a chip and pops it into his mouth.

“I’m not hiding,” you answer quickly, scrunching your face, “I’m eating, there’s nothing wrong with eating.”

“You’re quiet tonight.” He says, chewing slowly as he shoves his hand into his pocket and narrows his eyes at you, “You okay?”

You scoff, and roll your eyes to try and pretend that you have no idea what he’s talking about, “I’m fine, Rogers.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop,” you laugh, raising your hand, “I’m fine.”

He shrugs, one of those I know you’re not okay, but I’m gonna drop it shrugs, and takes another long swig of his beer, “You know,” he starts, nodding slowly, “You still haven’t wished me a happy birthday. That’s kinda rude.”

“Well,” you laugh, “Don’t hold your breath. You’ve had your fair share of birthday wishes over the last, you know, one hundred and two years.”

He shakes his head, smiling at your sarcasm. You wiggle your eyebrows and push your chin forward a little, slightly proud of your attitude and your way of not falling into a giggly, stupid mess in front of him. Then, suddenly, there’s a… shift. All of the false confidence you had just seconds before floods out of you as his eyes drift down your body, before snapping back up to your wide eyes. He tilts his head and that soft smile appears again.

You’re not drunk enough for this. You lift your beer to your lips and focus on finishing it as quickly as possible as you glance away from him and focus on something, anything else in the room. You immediately grab another green glass bottle from the ice bucket, handing it to him for him to pop off the cap. You hear him chuckle, and then feel his large hand wrapping around your wrist before you're being pulled through the apartment. 

“Excuse me,” you laugh a little, having to nearly jog to keep up with his long strides, “Sir, this is kidnapping.”

You let him pull you out of the apartment and up a few flights of stairs before you burst out onto the roof. He pulls you to the edge of the building, dropping your arm so he can rest his hands against the ledge. You cut your eyes towards him as you grip your beer bottle in your hands. He gazes out over the city, the lights from the buildings and the stars lighting up his eyes. His expression is soft as no doubt hundreds of memories flash through his head.

“It’s nice up here, huh?” He says after a minute.

“It is.” You nod, casting your eyes out over the illuminated city,  “I’m kind of mad you’ve been hiding this from me.”

“You’ve been hiding from me.” Your mouth drops at the sudden admission. He turns his head towards you, blinking, “You’re always hiding from me.”

“I don’t,” you start, shaking your head as you swallow hard. You laugh nervously and try to play it off, “What are you talking about, Rogers? You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” He shrugs, “I can’t - I haven’t been drunk since 1939. I just, I like you and, I don’t know,” he trails off, turning away from you to look back out over the city, “You just are always so distant when you’re around me.”

You stare at the side of his face, your eyes wide, your mouth literally hanging open. You grip the glass bottle in both of your hands as your mind recaps the words that have just left his mouth. I like you. You’re always hiding from me. 

“I think you like to hide though,” he says, taking your beer from your hands and taking a swig, “It’s like a mechanism, or something. That’s what my therapist told me that I do, so, I guess I can kinda see it in other people now.”

“Therapist?” you ask, your voice soft.

He nods, still looking out over the city, “Mmhmm, at Bucky’s persistence. It’s nice to hide though, right? Like, you can be here but not here at the same time? Present, but not present.” He clears his throat, dropping his head, “You can feel but not feel.”

Your eyes drift away from him slowly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about - feeling exactly what he’s feeling. It is nice to hide. You’ve done it your whole life, but seemingly more over the past few years, “Yeah,” you finally offer, “It is.”

The air is warm as it whips around you on this July night. Brooklyn is as alive as ever - cars honking, people laughing and chatting on the streets below, planes flying over head. You swallow again as you cast your eyes down to your feet, his words still running on a loop through your head. I like you. You’re always hiding from me. 

“I do like you, I mean that. I do.” You snap your eyes back up to the side of his face as he keeps his head down, “I remember the first time you came over with Wanda.” He turns towards you and smiles, “You had on that flowery thing, I don’t know what it’s called.”

That night flashes before your eyes. Apparently he’s been staring at you from the corner of the room too,  “A romper. I love that thing.”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, “You looked amazing.”

“Steve, is everything okay?” You ask suddenly, because, clearly, he’s not okay.

He nods again, smiles again, “Yeah. Are you okay?”

You laugh out of… you’re not really sure. Surprise? Nerves? Confusion? Or maybe, just the fact that you’re realizing that he’s not okay and you’re not okay -  and the two of you are desperately trying to prove that you are okay, but at the same time trying to deal with the fact that you’re not okay.

“Yeah,” you titter softly, “I’m okay.”

“Good.” He says, taking another drink of your beer, “I’m gonna get more. I’ll be back.”

Without another word to you, he moves away from the ledge and disappears behind the heavy metal door. You let out a breath that you weren’t aware you were holding and turn to face the cityscape. It is nice out here. Calming. 

Your heart sinks a little when you start to think about Steve wasting hour after hour, day after day, up here, all by himself, trying to deal with just living. He’s been Captain America for damn near eighty years - now he’s just Steve, but in 2020 - not 1939. He doesn’t know this Steve.

You’re always hiding from me. 

You turn away from the city, spotting an old, lumpy couch tucked in the corner of the roof. You move towards it slowly, rubbing your fingers against your pant leg as you move. You plop down and stare at your fingers as you start to rub them roughly. I like you. Fuck. That’s all you’ve wanted to hear, right? Since the day you laid eyes on him, like every other woman across the United States. It’s here, right in front of you and - 

The door opens, the metal creaking as Steve steps through it. It slams shut and you jump a little from the jarring sound. He turns to you, but dips his head, keeping his eyes low as he steps towards you and then falls onto the couch beside you. He hands you a beer and clinks the necks together before he takes a drink. You follow suit, swallowing the golden liquid slowly as you keep your eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for being so blunt,” he laughs, spinning the dark green glass in his hands, “I don’t want you to be put off or anything. I’m not trying to make a move on you, I’m just-” he drops his head again, “It’s been weird for me, lately.”

“Don’t be sorry. Turning a hundred and two would be weird for anyone.” You laugh. 

“Bucky seems to be doing okay.” He smiles, keeping his eyes on his beer, “I’m happy for him, I really am. He and Sam are just so good together.”

“They are,” you smile, “But you feel stuck, right? Like everybody is moving and you’re just standing still.”

He nods slowly as he chews on the inside of his cheek, his fingers picking at the label glued onto the glass bottle, “I still want us to be friends, okay?” He picks his head up and turns to you, his eyes as blue as ever, but just a little sad and worried, “Just… forget about what I said earlier. I shouldn’t have put that on you.”

You sit your bottle between your legs and tap your manicured fingers against it as another silence drops over the two of you, “I don’t mean to hide,” you say quietly, ignoring his comment to just forget it, “You’re right, I do like to, but I don’t mean to. Not from you, anyway.”

You feel his eyes on you, wandering around before he speaks, “Why not from me?”

You laugh, sadly, “I um, I was married a few years ago. He um, he,” the emotion clogs up your throat. Fuck, it’s been two years and you still can’t talk about him. You shake your head, keeping your eyes on your hands, “I haven’t felt this way in a long time.” You whisper, “I don’t even know what I’m feeling half the time, it’s just, whenever I’m around you… it just scares me, I guess.” 

You see a shadow of his long arm reaching for you. Then, the rather soft tips of his fingers trace your chin before he lifts it slowly, so he can look at you - really look at you. You close your eyes before the two of you can make eye contact and smile nervously as a tear slips from the corner of your eye. He hums to himself as the backs of his fingers sweep across your cheek, removing the tear, before they move back down to cup your chin. 

“Open your eyes.”

You laugh, a sad smile on your face, “I can’t.”

“You can.” He presses, “Open your eyes, please.”

You take a breath, pressing your lips together as your eyes start to flutter. You blink furiously, but focus in on him - his face, his eyes - and then exhale deeply. You’ve been waiting to exhale for two long years. He closes the distance between the two of you before you can process it, and his lips are suddenly on yours. Soft. Warm. Still. His hands cup your face as you rest yours on his broad shoulders, gripping slightly. 

He pulls away but barely, still so close that his lips rest on yours. You open your eyes again to find his closed, his long dark eyelashes splashing against his smooth skin. He takes slow, deliberate breaths, the air from him washing over your face. You lift your hands, slowly, and place them on either side of his face, a small smile curling onto your lips. You press your mouth to his again. A little harder than the first time; and Steve responds a little harder this time. 

The kiss doesn’t dissolve into desperation, regardless of if the two of you feel desperate -  going untouched for so long. It stays sweet. It stays gentle, the kiss. You’re pulled into his lap, straddling his legs with yours, and it feels like you belong here. His tongue pushes, softly, asking permission by sweeping across your bottom lip. You grant it, the permission he asks for, without hesitation. 

You moan at the warmth of his velvety tongue. It spreads through you quickly, warming parts of you that you thought were long dead. His tongue slides along yours as he holds you to him, pressing his fingers into your thin t-shirt and back, pulling you close. So close. He licks at the roof of your mouth before he pulls your top lip between his, sucking gently. It makes you moan again. 

Steve kisses down your chin and throat,  working his way to the crook of your neck as he continues to hold you so tight. He nips at your skin, finding that little spot that sends a direct bolt of lightning to your core. You throw your head back, biting down into your bottom lip as you dig your fingers into his shoulders.  Your hips start to push into his as his warm fingers move underneath your shirt to feel your flesh for the first time. 

Your mouth open falls as you start to pant. Now that his fingers are on your skin - that whole desperation thing starts to kick up. He pushes your shirt up, up over your breasts and then just stops there, staring up at you with those eyes. His thumbs rub your sides as he holds them. He pushes in again, and presses his lips to the center of your chest, right in the valley between your breasts and then just rests there; breathing you in, feeling you. You smile, and run your fingers over the top of his head and through his hair before you rest your chin on his head. 

His fingers start to roam again, slipping along the band of your jeans. You bite your lip as you push your hips forward; ready. The button on your jeans pops, the zipper rolls down and you're on your back, Steve’s weight now pushing you into the cushions. Your legs are suddenly bare - you feel the warm air brushing along your skin. His lips are back on your neck as you wrap your arms around him, spreading your legs for him to settle in between. 

He fumbles around, pulling himself free, pushing your thin panties to the side. You’re nervous, he’s nervous - you can feel him shaking, but just a little. Then you both gasp as you're suddenly full of him and he’s encased by you. You groan, and so does he. His breath washes over your face as you both get used to the feeling again. 

He braids his fingers with yours and pushes them up over your head as he kisses you deeply. He starts to move - his hips pushing into yours, and then pulling away. You start to pant as his strokes get deeper - harder - as he breathes directly into your mouth. It’s sweet, his breath, even as it’s laced with alcohol. 

God, he’s such a soft lover. His hands, his lips, his thrusts, all just so soft. Passionate. Caring. He hovers over you, his eyes closed as he leans in to kiss you gently, his lips barely touching yours. You cup his cheek in your hand as his lips brush along yours, both of you breathing each other's air as his hips tenderly push into yours. He drops his lips to your throat again, kissing the base of your neck before he runs the tip of his nose up your chin - a small, barely there smile on his face. 

You kiss him hard, only breaking it to hiss. Your toes curl as the familiar pull in your stomach starts to build. Steve nuzzles into your neck, keeping his fingers laced with yours as his hips continue to grind. Your and his sounds mix and mingle before they are carried away by the soft breeze. Your heart starts to beat hard against your chest, your blood rushes as your body starts to tighten. 

He lifts your leg, hiking it over his hip but holds his hand there, gripping and groping your flesh softly as his thrusts now reach deeper. You gasp, gripping his biceps, your fingers pushing indents into his skin as your sex quivers from the attention. You bite down into your bottom lip, whimpering just a little as a dull pain ripples through you as you stretch to accommodate him - it’s been too long and he’s, more, than you expected. 

“Y’okay?” He slurs, his forehead resting against yours, his lips brushing against your cheek, “Baby, you-”

“Fine,” you breathe, “I’m fine- ah! -” you hiss as he hits that spot, “S’good, Steve. Don’stop… please.”

And then it blooms. It starts slow, at the tips of your toes before it floods throughout every inch of your body. You dig your fingers into his hands as you come, your hips bucking, your pants and cries loud and thick. He only lasts seconds longer, before his hips hitch and the growls scratch at the back of his throat. 

The calm is beautiful afterward. It’s not awkward or strained. You’re just two people trying to be okay, trying to reach out, trying to heal and move forward - trying to deal with the feelings swirling around in your chests and minds. There’s a blanket thrown over the back of the couch - he tugs it over the two of you, covering you from the elements and any prying eyes if they happen up onto the roof. 

You jump when the first firework explodes in the air. He chuckles and pulls you into his side, kissing your face as he drags his fingers, over your collar bones. Another firework goes off, and then another, and another, bringing you both back into the present. No more hiding. 

“I think I love you,” he whispers, watching the fireworks through your fingers as he lifts your hand into the air, “Is that weird?”

“Shit,” you laugh, curling your fingers between his, “I hope not, cuz I think I love you.”

Another firework pops in the air - red, white, and blue splashing against the dark sky. But all you can see are your hands, your small fingers laced with his long ones, twisting and curling around one another. He flattens his palm to yours before he brings it down to his lips, giving each finger a kiss before he lays a gentle one on the back of your hand. 

“You still haven’t wished me a happy birthday.”

You laugh loudly, pushing his shoulder, “And I’m still not gonna!”

“Why not?” he asks, laughing, picking your hands up again to watch your fingers dance with one another's, “That’s mean.”

“I’m a Taurus.”

Steve’s laugh makes you smile - yet another thing to add to the list of why you love this big idiot of a man. 

“That’s okay,” he whispers, pushing his nose into the side of your face as he nuzzles close, “You’ve got every year of the rest of your life to wish me a happy birthday.”

You don’t answer. You just smile harder and roll your face towards his, rubbing your nose along his. 

Steve Rogers is also a dreamer - how lovely. 

[lemontwst]

Ok we know there's going to be lots of jealousy/fighting for deerlet's attention in Nessun Dorma, but how would the boys react to some random guy hitting on their beloved right in front of them? I'm really hyped for chapter one so I hope this is okay to ask!!

it is okay to ask, babe!!!! i hope you don’t mind i defaulted to heartslabyul and savanaclaw to avoid a mile-long post. as per usual, let me know if you would like to see the other characters’ reactions!

Riddle - Absolutely not. How dare this pathetic wretch think they can touch the Queen of Hearts' beloved? Riddle stands at Deerlet's side with an annoyed expression on his face the entire time, making snarky, thinly-veiled, condescending comments that make the other person feel this small. If they reach out to touch you, Riddle will slap their hand away and glare them out of the room.

Ace - He's really fucking jealous, but he doesn't show it, pretending instead to be the flirt's best friend. He wraps an arm over his shoulders, his words loud and dramatic and wrong, like a song with a single distorted note in its melody. When he's dragged the guy out of Deerlet's earshot, his expression falls to one of cruel boredom. You don't really know why, but that person never talks to you again.

Deuce - He usually tries to keep his jealousy in check, because he doesn't want to inconvenience you. So when that person makes you laugh and... touches your arm… Deuce holds it in. His fists tighten to the point that it's painful, but he doesn't say anything. Now, if you seem to be uncomfortable with the flirtation, Deuce will put himself between you and the other guy at the speed of fucking light. If he doesn’t back off, he’s going to get punched in the face.

Cater - He knows from the get-go that people are going to hit on you. You're fucking gorgeous, why wouldn't they? Cater will happily waltz up to you and pull you close to him, shamelessly running his hands down your arms, back, waist… anything he can touch without being inappropriate, he will touch. It's almost like a challenge as he looks at the other guy in the eyes. If the idiot still tries to flirt with you when Cater is right there, your boyfriend will shove his tongue in your mouth right then and there, forcing the guy to leave with his tail between his legs while he gives you some mind-blowing pda.

Trey - He usually has the patience of a saint in this kind of situations. He won't be outright hostile at first, but he'll stand right beside you, gently holding your hand as he attempts to steer the conversation away from any flirting comments. If the guy doesn't give up, Trey will straight up call him out on his bullshit, the friendly facade dropping so fast it almost gives you whiplash. He'll scold the moron for forcing you into an uncomfortable situation, loud enough so everyone around you can hear, embarrassing him so much he will never come close to either one of you ever again.

Leona - HAHAHAHA. Who the hell is this idiot? Does he have a death wish? Is he so eager to meet his maker that he'd purposefully flirt with you in front of your man? Leona gives him three seconds to fuck off before he's tearing him apart. Flirting with Deerlet in front of him is worse than doing it in front of Malleus. You will die. Also expect him to keep you glued to his side for the rest of the day. Leona has to rub his scent on you properly since apparently someone still can’t take a fucking hint, so you're not going anywhere.

Jack - Like Deuce, he tries so hard not to throw hands right away. His territory is being invaded, but you would be upset if he started a fight, so he just… stands behind you and glares. If the sight of a huge wolf boy with his fangs bared and pure hatred in his yellow eyes doesn’t scare the guy off, then he’s clearly too dumb to live. The second he tries to touch you, Jack is on him, snarling. You’ll have to call him back to you, or else he’s going to do some serious damage to the other student.

Ruggie - This happens often actually. He’s skinny and not very tall or threatening, so other guys think they can just walk up to Deerlet and start hitting on them while he’s right there. Fucking morons. Ruggie will mock the guy so hard he will never recover from the shame, and if he tries to start a fight? The idiot’s going to get flung down a flight of stairs. Over and over and over again. Like Leona, Ruggie will want to scent you afterwards, walking so close to you you almost trip on his feet, but the cute smirk he gives you makes it impossible to be mad at him.

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | six

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.7k

warnings: unprotected sex, begging, rough sex, doggy style, hair pulling, very slight dirty talk, slight hints of jealousy, very brief moment of spit play, oral (f. receiving), breast play, cum eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, marking/hickeys, cussing/mature language, angst, cuddling/after care, mentions of car accident/death, insecurities, unanswered questions, dont really know wtf this is or where it’s going, love triangle mess

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1​ (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

The Uber ride is silent, and part of you started to question whether or not you should continue. But, before you could really talk some sense into yourself, you had arrived at Jin's house.

You remember him dropping his address into your text thread after Chance's death anniversary, in case you ever needed anything. For which specific reasons, you had no idea what. Maybe for times like these? You were beginning to think this is what he planned all along.

As you slowly walked up to the front of his perfect family sized home up in Orinda, you felt a little weird seeing his car and what you assume is Grace's car. You also remember him briefly saying Grace would be in New York, but you double check your receipts just to make sure [on some serious hoe shit]. If anything, you could just make up some weird, bullshit excuse and run away, right? Pull the drunk student card. Hopefully, you wouldn't have to.

You ring the doorbell once and stand there awkwardly. You didn't hear any movement in the house, although the lights were on, so you hit the doorbell once more, the cold settling into your skin as the minutes go by. This was the moment you started to really question your decision. Like what the fuck, Y/N? What are we—

Lo and behold, Jin answers the door. He looks like he had just hopped out the shower since he showed up in sweats, a white longsleeve and damp hair.

"Sorry, I just hopped out the shower." He steps aside to let you in, almost like he already expected you to show up.

"It's alright." You fiddle with your fingers.

"It's freezing, are you cold? Do you want a sweater?" You look down at your leggings and the thin sweater you grabbed.

"I'm good, thanks." You say softly as you follow him deeper into the house. It's quiet for the most part, and you feel incredibly awkward walking behind him like a lost child. He stops in his kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water.

"Water? Or anything to drink? Eat, even? I might have something I could whip up for you really quickly." You chuckle.

"No, don't worry."

"Soooo, wanna tell me what you're doing here Y/N?" He chuckles at you.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jin."

"Can't help it since Jungkook doesn't seem to live here." He smirks, his hands now dug deep into the pockets of his sweats. You can't help but marvel at the sight of his long, veiny arms and the way his collarbone is poking out from his longsleeve. Oh, the thought of his hands wrapping around your neck.

"Ha-ha, very funny." You say sarcastically, crossing your arms.

"Just going along with your game." He's now closer and towering over you, subtly biting his bottom lip as he looks down at you. "You have fun with my stepbrother tonight?"

"And if I did?" At this point, your knees are buckling and you're about ready to pounce on this man with the way he's been acting.

"So then let me ask again - what are you doing here, Y/N?" His voice slightly deepened as his finger rose your chin for you to look him in the eye.

"Why ask when you know?"

"Cause I wanna hear it."

"You really wanna hear why?" You say, almost at a whisper.

"Yeah, I do." He edges his face closer to yours, the lust very apparent and strong as hell between the both of you. "Or you can show me." You suddenly can no longer hold yourself off, forgetting the events that played out until this moment. You instantly throw your bag aside and jump onto him, kissing him as he wraps his arms tightly around you to hold you up. He doesn't break the kiss as he's making his way up to the bedroom.

He gently lays you on the bed, taking off his shirt before aiding you with yours. You bite your bottom lip as you gush at the sight of his upper body, your panties feeling more soaked by the minute. You wanted every bit of him, and you were ready to get filthy, fulfilling every need Grace couldn't. He snatches your leggings off, tossing them across the room. His large hands are feeling down your entire body as he deeply kisses you. His lips move down to your jaw, then down to your neck, his tongue swiping across your skin before nipping and sucking on the surface to leave his mark. You let out a moan while your hands are in his hair.

"Fuck me, Jin. Pleeeease." You mewl as he's sucking on each breast, his tongue toying with your nipples before gently sucking and nibbling on them. He makes his way down your stomach and to your inner thighs, his long fingers hooking onto your panties and shoving them aside.

"God, Y/N. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting to fuck you." He says lowly before he lowers his mouth onto your wet pussy. He instantly swipes his tongue down your folds, sucking all the wetness that leaks out. You let out a breathy moan when the sensation hits you, sending chills and goosebumps down your body. He inserts two digits, biting his lip at the sound your pussy makes every time he curves upwards and picks up the pace.

"Ohhhhh my god." You moan as you slightly arch your back and palm your breasts, toying with your own nipples as he continues to finger you and suck on your clit like no tomorrow. "Mmmmmm, fuck!" You almost yell as one hand is gripping the sheets, trying your hardest to hold on for as long as you could, but this man was really about to make you cum right at this moment.

And so he does. He makes you cum so fucking hard your body needs to be held down from how bad you're trembling. All you want is more, and he knows you want more. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, ready to line himself up with your entrance but you take his cock in your hand and jerk him off for a bit. His cock is long, and the perfect thickness. His tip red and angry, pooling with pre-cum that your thumb is swirling around and playing with. Your free hand is grabbing his other hand and inserting the two digits he used to finger you into your mouth, sucking each digit slowly. He can't even fucking bear this sight right now, or else he'll probably blow his load right onto you. His eyes are rolling to the back of the head and all he can think about is fucking you so hard that the headboard almost breaks the wall.

He wanted you so fucking badly, and you were being the biggest, dirtiest tease.

You finally insert the tip into your entrance, gasping and smirking at how good it'll feel when he completely fills you up. He wastes no time pushing himself into you, completely bottoming out until he's thrusting into you harder than you imagined. Your body is moving upwards, titties shaking and bouncing from how hard he's going. One hand is gripping your thigh tightly as you wrap your legs around his torso, the other is around your neck.

"Jin! Fuck, you're gonna make me cum again." He groans, closing his eyes as he continues to thrust hard, going deep every time he pulls back, hitting your core with the sudden movement.

"You think my brother can make you feel this way?" He lets out breathily.

"N-no." You whine, tears streaming down your face at the overwhelming sensation.

"Seemed like you thought so earlier." He has this look in his eyes, the same look he had when he was hungry for you at the club. Except this time, it was ten fold more being he was in between your thighs, fucking you until he couldn't anymore. And honestly, this shit was boosting his ego because Jungkook had you wrapped around his finger all night and he hated it. Jungkook was a really good looking dude, who was good at a lot of things, and Jin couldn't help but feel a little competitive against his own sibling.

But here he was, getting you all to himself.

"N-no!" You beg. "Only you. Only you can make me feel this way. Please make me cum." He groans, his thumb now working circular motions onto your clit until you're letting your climax take over your entire body once again. You're so out of breath at this point, but Jin doesn't stop and instantly gets you on your fours. He swipes his hand down your pussy, making you suddenly jolt at the sensitivity. You feel his spit dribble down your folds, causing your breathing to hitch. It was obvious Jin was letting out this pent up sexual tension or whatever the hell it was, but you honestly couldn't care less. He could use you all he wanted, especially if he made you cum the way you did just these past two times.

At first, he was gripping your hips, holding onto you as he hammered into your pussy from the back. You started following his movements with his, making him pause just to feel you move along his cock. He gives your ass cheek a good smack, causing you to yelp at the heat pooling at the spot. He grips your ass, spreading it just enough to continue burying himself deeper into your core.

"Just like that." You moan. "Hohhhhhgod, just like that!" You're almost crying. He grabs a hold of your hair, tugging it back so that he can see your face.

"Let me see you play with yourself." He spits out. You reach down for your clit, your hands rubbing in circles as he continues to fuck you and tug on your hair. You let out a loud moan, the headboard really damn near about to create a dent into the wall. "Yeah, that's it. You're fucking naughty." He says in your ear. You feel yourself spiraling for the third time tonight, and this third time has you weak, causing you to collapse down onto the bed as he continues to thrust into you and fill you up with his seed, his hand pressing your face down against the bed ever so slightly.

"Ohhhhggfuck!" You groan, twitching at the last minute aftershocks running through your body.  The only sounds filling the room are you and Jin catching your breaths. He slowly slips out of you, grabbing a tissue on the nightstand to clean you up before cleaning himself up and throwing on his sweats and shirt.

"You okay?" He slightly chuckles, handing you one of his shirts to slip into. You weakly get into it, running your hands through your hair and fixing yourself up. Your panties and bra are still off to the side, along with the clothes you came in.

"You wanted to know why I was here, right?" He smiles, his cheeks tinted a rosy color.

"I'll get you some water, but is there anything else I can get you?" He asks, holding onto the door frame, fine as fuck doing the bare minimum. You shake your head and he disappears out of the room.

You can't believe this happened. So much for keeping distance. But did you regret it? Honestly -absolutely not.

Jin comes back with two glasses of water and sets yours on the nightstand next to you, which also has a picture of him and Grace. Ironic. He sits right next to you on the edge of the bed, watching as you yawn before sipping some water.

"Tired?"

"Yeah, it's been a really long night."

"Tell me about it, Miss 'I'm trying to keep my distance from you.'" You shake your head.

"Yeah yeah, keep it up. It's exactly what I want." You sarcastically joked.

"I'm kidding." He places a hand on your covered leg and gently gives it a squeeze. "For the record, I'm happy you swung by."

"I am too, but I should probably make my way home soon."

"What? No, stay. It's late. Plus, you're tired."

"A-are you sure? I-I mean, I don't wanna--" He shakes his head to cut you off.

"I honestly would really like you to. Besides, I don't know why you expected me to let you go back home this late." It was weird. You honestly thought he'd fuck you then send your ass home, but here you were, cuddling into his sheets and getting warm. But this was Jin - the same guy who didn't go home until you had a chance to spill out your feelings and made sure you were okay. The exhaustion hits you, being that it's 3-4am or something like that, you don't even care to know.

"Okay." Is all you say, sinking deeper into the sheets that smelled like lavender Downy detergent.

"I just need to clean up a few things, alright? Go to sleep. I'll be back in a minute." You quietly nod as you lie on your side, examining the photo on the nightstand. Fantastic job keeping up with your end of the deal, Y/N. Although your friends would probably make jokes about it at first, they'd be so disappointed beneath the surface.

You shake your head and turn the other way to erase your thoughts. You start to feel comfortable, enough to the point where you find yourself falling asleep pretty quickly.

Meanwhile, Jin is cleaning up his kitchen and living room before shutting off the lights and heading back upstairs. By the time he's back in the room and shutting off the bedroom lights, he sees you fully asleep. He smiles to himself and slips into the bed, careful to not wake you, but he's unsuccessful as he feels you stirring and getting closer to his body. Jin welcomes it, throwing his arm around you and allowing you to snuggle up onto his chest, gently running his fingers down your sides. Your skin felt like butter.

"Are you not sleeping yet?" You mumble into his chest.

"I'll sleep soon." He says softly, flipping through the channels on the TV in front of him.

"It's late, though."

"It's a Sunday morning. I'll be okay." He smiles at how cute you were being. "Go back to sleep, cutie."

"Hmph, suit yourself." You say, making him silently laugh to himself. Attitude still on na-na even half asleep. He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head and brings the covers up to make sure your entire body is covered completely.

This.

This felt right for him, no matter how fucking bad or wrong this all went down. No matter how he tried to look at it, or anybody else. He felt deeply for you after tonight and there was really no way of hiding it. Why shit came about this way, he won't ever truly understand, but he always looked at you as some sort of sign. Some kind of blessing in disguise. He knew what he wanted for himself. He had to do what was right for him, whatever that meant. He was the only one who could truly understand.

You shot up from the bed, grabbing your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing. You had just experienced the worst nightmare you had ever experienced, the only part of it you remembered was seeing Chance behind the wheel as soon as the truck came head on first.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Jin asks in a deep, sleepy voice, slightly raising his head and eyes barely open. You feel his hand against your back, gently caressing it.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Bad dream?" He's now yawning and sitting up against the headboard, his fingers still lightly caressing your hips.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?" You shook your head.

"I just saw Chance behind the wheel before the oncoming car came on head first."

"I'm sorry." He says softly as he pulls you in.

"It's no big deal."

"Wanna make sure you're okay, though." Is all he says. He doesn't press you for details, or anything along the matter and simply sits there in silence, caressing you and holding you close. He knew you and Chance had a strong relationship, just based off of the way you talked highly about him, and that it was taken away from you unexpectedly. He wouldn't expect you to be completely over it. He would never understand the pain or how it feels, but he could do his best to be here for you. "You know I'm here if you need me."

"I know. Thank you." He smiles.

"Would you like some breakfast?"

"Sure."

"I'll cook something." He places a small kiss on your temple before getting up to get this Sunday started. You took a couple of deep breaths, still a little shaken up from the dream you had. But, you brush it off and get up to meet Jin downstairs. You slip on your panties, still walking around in Jin's shirt, and pass by his walk-in closet only to see Grace's clothes against one wall. You suddenly start to feel weird, so you hurry on by and get downstairs before you could start falling into a rabbit hole about your feelings. Jin was already at the stove, whipping up some eggs and getting some waffles into the toaster. He looked good doing so, his shirt doing a damn good job of outlining his back muscles and broad shoulders. You honestly wouldn't mind another round of last night.

You sit on the stool in front of the kitchen island and fiddle with your bag to grab your phone. It was still pretty early, so it wasn't surprising to see no texts from either of the three. You were sure you were going to hear from Ryujin soon, and you were going to make sure you would be home by the time she called. Hopefully, at least. However, there was a text from an unknown number, and your heart slightly sank when you realized who it was.

[unknown number] 3:02am: had a lot of fun tonight. probably the best birthday yet. thanks cutie :) hope you got home safely.

Jungkook.

"Friends blowing up your phone?" He raises his eyebrow as he watches you stare at your phone. You slightly chuckle and tuck it aside, making a mental note to respond when you got home. Yup. This shit is messy already.

"Not exactly, thank God." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand. "Sorry about earlier, by the way."

"Sorry about having a bad dream? Y/N, don't worry about it."

"And thank you for letting me borrow your shirt and for cooking breakfast." Jin smiled as he began to plate your food. It was the little things that he appreciated, the little things like the way you said thank you for everything.

"Of course." He walks over to your side and puts the plate down in front of you. You raise yourself up a bit in order to kiss him on the lips, knowing you weren't gonna stop that kiss right away. "Your. food." He spits out in between kisses, making you laugh.

"Okay, okay." He chuckles as he sits next to you, digging into his own plate. The both of you start talking about plans for the day and week, with no mention of Grace even though you knew your alone time with Jin would come to an end. No discussion about what this was, or what you both intended for this to be, especially in the long run.

"Why don't you come and stay the night again?"

"I got some work to do." You pouted.

"Then bring it over."

"Bring it over and then what, get distracted by you all night?"

"Maybe." He smirked.

"Mmmm, we'll see." He pouts.

"Fine, I'll let you do your own thing." You chuckle.

"You're a baby."

"I just got you to myself." You shake your head and quietly poke at your food. Suddenly, you felt the need to ask the question. You were just dying to. Like.. what now? What happens when Grace comes back? Nothing? You didn't know what to expect, you should've known this couldn't be much with Grace being back soon.

"So." You poked at your eggs.

"Hm?" He continued to eat, his cute, bug eyes occasionally glancing at you.

"God, I really don't know how to ask this."

"Just ask, Y/N. It won't hurt." He gave you a small, reassuring toothless smile.

"So, what happens when Grace gets back?" He shrugged. Really? Just a shrug?

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Look, I know I can't ask for much right now but are we just going to continue living our own lives after all this? Are you just going to keep me here with Grace around too?"

"I know I can't promise anything but it's not my plan to keep both of you around like that. I'm going to talk to Grace because I just don't think this is working between us anymore."

"How are you so sure? What if Grace comes back and you realize how much you truly do love her?" You felt stupid for asking but you were also dying to know. Your thoughts were everywhere and right now, it felt like your mind was your biggest enemy. You really didn't know what to do, and part of you [majority of you, really] felt like this was completely and painfully temporary and that he was never going to leave her. He had no plans to. You were just filling this void.

You couldn't be mad at it though.

"Y/N, please don't worry about this, okay? I'll take care of it." You simply nodded, knowing you couldn't settle on this too quickly because you didn't even know what that meant. Maybe, this is what it was. Just this. You couldn't expect more. Besides, you still had Jungkook around. You didn't even know what you were trying to do with that either, cause he was fine as hell. A sweet soul too, with the way he handled you at the club, careful to not overstep boundaries and disrespect you in anyway.

Too bad you were too wrapped up in his stepbrother.

Obviously, these things were never easy.

"Okay." is all you say before you continue to finish up your food. Once finished, you do what you can to help clean up the dishes and the kitchen before changing back into your clothes so Jin can drop you at home.

On the way home, Jin has his hand on your thigh while you looked out the passenger's window. Last night replayed over and over in your head and you had to bite you bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.

"Oop." You say as you jump from the vibration of your phone. "Oh shoot."

"Everything okay?"

"It's just Ryujin, hang on." He nods silently. "Hello?"

"Girl, I'm hungover as fuck. Let's get coffee or walk around somewhere. I need fresh air."

"Sure, I'll be home in a minute, I can meet you up in the next hour or so."

"Where the hell did you go this early?"

"Run errands, workout." You lied. But did you really? You kind of did get a workout in early this morning.

"Run errands and workout after a late night at the club?" She snorted. "Okay. I guess we clearly handle the morning after way differently."

"Yeah, just wanted to avoid the crowd." You glance over at Jin, who's smiling and silently chuckling go himself.

"Mmmkay." She yawns. "Hey, did you ever get that guy's number? I forgot his name." You subtly roll your eyes because you know damn well she wasn't gonna try and make you say Jungkook's name right now. She was drunk as fuck and flirting with Jin's friends when you had given him your number. Of course she couldn't remember for the life of her.

"Yeah, he asked."

"What's his name though? It's bothering me, cause I feel like I knew it all night but now it's not coming to me."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does, especially if you're planning to continue seeing him and throwing your pussy at him." You deeply sigh.

"Jungkook." You take another glance at Jin, but this time his smile had slightly faded. "Look, I'm about to get home, okay? Just text me where to meet you."

"Alrighty, we're continuing this conversation though. See you soon." And with that, the call ended. It was silent for a minute and you were unsure if you should apologize, or bring up the whole thing about Jungkook.

"Ryujin doing okay?" He asks, giving you a small smile. You simply nod and look back out the window without saying anything else. Maybe you both just didn't know how to approach the Jungkook thing. You sure as hell didn't, not around Jin.

You finally get to your apartment building, with Jin sending you off with a quick peck on the lips. You take a long, hot shower before hopping into some warmer and more decent clothes for your walk with Ryujin. You also had just remembered to text Jungkook back now that you were alone.

[y/n] 9:47am: sorry, had such a long night and knocked out. but yes, got home safely. i'm glad you had a great birthday. :)

[jungkook] 9:53am: she's up! goodmorning beautiful. hope you're still down for our date.

[jungkook] 9:54am: (sends picture of him laying down in a hoodie and glasses which makes you smile to yourself cause he's cute as fuck)

[y/n] 9:56am: of course i am. just let me know time and place.

[jungkook] 9:58am: time? yes. place? no. i'll keep it a surprise. :-) is it okay if i call you later?

[y/n] 10:02am: sure!

[jungkook] 10:03am: k, i'll talk to you later then. gotta run errands and stop by my brother's spot really quickly. have a good day today!

Whew, just imagine if you had run into him at Jin's house. What would you do then? Lie and tell him you came over for some homework help? Bitch, please.

The heavenly being above was on your team right now, but you knew that wouldn't last long with all this sinning.

After getting a good, quick shower in, you hurriedly got into your car and drove off to your destination, making it just on time to catch Ryujin stepping out of her car. She already has coffee for you, so you both start walking around Lake Merritt, revisiting last night's festivities and the fun you both had. The cold air was still nipping at your skin, cause you to rub your hand on your neck to try and provide some warmth. Suddenly, Ryujin grips your wrist and furrows her eyebrows at your neck.

"Y/N, what is that?" She points. Then it suddenly hits you - the hickeys Seokjin left on your neck. "Are those hickeys?!" She gasped.

Well, fuck.

"Keep your voice down." You say as you zip your jacket all the way up.

"Did you and Jungkook fuck last night? Is that where you actually were? You didn't run errands or go to the gym early this morning, did you? You actually just ended up going back home from his spot early this morning?" She threw questions left and right, her eyes wide and very suggestive.

"No, no! I didn't go home with Jungkook."

"So, did you guys do shit in the club or something? I'm confused, but also impressed if that's the case cause it's bold. I didn't know you got down like that, but I kind of like it." She pinched your side.

"No." She raises an eyebrow.

"Then why the fuck do you have hickeys on your neck? Who else could you have—" She stops in her tracks, hand over her mouth as she slowly approaches you again. "Y/N, who gave you those hickeys?" You simply look at her, your eyes already giving off the answer. "D-did you hook up with Seokjin?" She pulls out his first name, knowing 'Mr.Kim' was not appropriate for this matter.

"Yes."

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 15

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Katriona Cassopeia (in mention) belongs to the gorgeous @kc-and-oc, David Willows (in mention) belongs to the wonderful @that-scouse-wizard

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: language

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea @thatravenpuffwitch

Mm, child, tired of the bullshit Go on, dust your shoulders off and keep it moving Yes, Lord, tryna get some new shit In there, swimwear, going-for-the-pool shit

~ Cold Years - Good As Hell ~

Lizzie frowned as she saw Murphy quickly turning his wheelchair around and getting ready to leave as she approached him and Orion. The blond sound technician nodded to her in passing and she could have sworn he winked at her as well.

She looked after him curiously as she sat down on the deckchair next to Orion, her towel loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“What’s gotten into him?”

Orion smiled ominously. “Yearning for his one true love.”

“What, basketball?” Lizzie snorted. “Fucking fringe sports.”

Orion had to laugh at her words. “I was talking about Katriona.”

Lizzie shrugged. “Close enough.” She tilted her head to see what Orion had been writing down into his notebook. “How’s the song going?”

He spun the pencil between his fingers, the way Lizzie had shown him with a drumstick. “Slowly; I’ve been a little distracted by more inspirational sights.”

He briefly smiled at her before resting his chin on his arms with his eyes closed.

“Were you now,” Lizzie giggled. She moved a little closer to Orion, pulled her still dripping ponytail over her shoulder and wrung it out over his back. She laughed as he jumped at the cold water hitting his warm skin.

“What was that for?” he called out, playfully trying to shove her away. “You’re a mood of your own, do you know that?”

“As if you don’t love it.”

Orion only snorted and chose not to answer. Expecting another teasing remark from Lizzie, he was surprised when she remained silent. Looking up, Orion saw her attention had shifted from him to the other side of the pool. He followed her eyes to where Artemis was sitting alone on her deckchair, listening to music with her gigantic headphones on while scrolling through her phone.

“You’re still intent on making friends with her, aren’t you?” Orion said. It was more a statement than a question.

Lizzie hummed in response, her eyes not leaving Artemis. “I can’t believe she wants to be alone all of the time.”

“Have you considered that maybe she values her solitude more than she does company?” Orion contemplated softly. “Sometimes we keep from others because we want to protect sides of ourselves we don’t want anyone to see.”

“Like Merula does all the time?”

Orion nodded. “Yes, she and Artemis are more similar than both of them might think.”

“But Merula and I became friends eventually,” Lizzie said stubbornly. “The effort was on another level but we still did. I bet I could make Artemis like me; I don’t want her to be alone all the time. That’s the best part of touring isn’t it? Spending all this time with your friends.”

“It is for us, but not necessarily for her. You can’t force her, Liz; if she wants to remain alone, you’ll have to accept that. Why are you so intent on befriending her anyway,” he wanted to know, “is this about you or about her?”

“It’s not an ego thing, if that’s what you’re going for,” Lizzie answered a little more sharply than she had meant to. She could see that Orion was taken aback by her tone, so she softened her voice a little as she tried to explain.

“I don’t think she’s keeping to herself by choice,” she said. “She’s always on the sidelines, always watching what everyone else is doing. She only started talking to Charlie a few days ago, and God knows how he managed to do that. I don’t think that’s because she doesn’t like us, though. I think she just had really bad experiences in the past.”

“Artemis is not a scared cat. It shows your compassion that you want to include her so badly but just think about all the things you’ve tried already. You tried talking to her many different times, you wanted her to join us for lunch, asked her to go out for drinks after the shows; she declined every single one of your offers. If Artemis wants to tear down her walls, she will do so in her own time and at her own pace.”

Lizzie contemplated Orion’s words; without thinking about it, she placed her hand on the tattoo on Orion’s back. She had seen it up close so many times by now, but she never grew tired of how beautiful it looked. The water beads still glistening on his skin were looking like shiny pearls amongst the black lines.

She was broken out of her thoughts, when Orion moved away from her touch. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “You know I appreciate both the gesture of affection and the thrill of the risk, but I think you’re taking things a little too far.”

Lizzie only chuckled and tried to playfully poke him in the ribs, but Orion moved out of her reach again. A little irritated, she furrowed her brow. “Since when have you become so boring? You didn’t complain about the little extra attention when we had the photoshoot yesterday.”

“I know, but still, it was reckless of you,” Orion replied calmly. “People could start noticing.”

“But they didn’t.”

Orion sighed. “I’m not entirely sure about that.”

Lizzie’s shoulders tensed, all playfulness disappearing from her face. “What do you mean?”

“I think Skye might have seen something. I wasn’t sure because she didn’t say anything so I decided to wait and see. But in any case, it is unwise to draw attention like that.”

Lizzie raised her head, her eyes moving to where Skye was sitting with Erika and Andre. And sure enough, the blue haired bassist was in fact looking their way. Lizzie unconsciously moved a little away from Orion, but when hers and Skye’s eyes met, Skye’s look confirmed what the sinking feeling in Lizzie’s stomach had been telling her all along - she knew.

“That’s not good,” Lizzie whispered, more to herself than Orion.

“It is far from optimal indeed.”

And sure enough, Skye’s frown deepened as quickly as Lizzie’s panic was growing. She watched as her friend said something to Erika before getting out of her chair to come over to them.

Lizzie absolutely didn’t want to be confronted by Skye, and least of all in front of the others. Skye had never been a particularly subtle person; if Lizzie got into an argument with her here, she might as well shout everything from the rooftops.

Before Skye could make her way to them, Lizzie practically jumped out of her seat, trying to look as casual as possible while her heart was racing in her chest.

“Pity you don’t want to join the next round,” she proclaimed just loudly enough for Skye to hear it, “water polo is always more fun with more players.”

She set her eyes on Artemis, who was still sitting on the opposite side of the pool. “I’ll just go and ask Artemis instead.”

“How smooth,” she heard Orion mutter with a mocking tone, but didn’t care. She had wanted to speak to Artemis anyway and if she could bring the whole length of the pool between herself and Skye by doing so, all the better.

Lizzie set off to round the pool in the opposite direction to Skye; much to her relief, she noted that her friend had sat down onto her deckchair again, but she could feel her green eyes boring into her back.

Artemis was slumped deep into her chair when Lizzie approached her. She was slightly nodding her head to the inaudible beat coming from her headphones. The corners of Lizzie’s mouth twitched when she saw the stylised cat face engraved in silver on the speakers; she had the same limited edition.

Artemis was so concentrated on her phone that she didn’t even notice Lizzie’s presence. Lizzie wondered if that was intentional, but when Artemis jumped violently when Lizzie sat down next to her, she instantly felt sorry; she hadn’t wanted to scare her.

She countered Artemis’ hostile stare with an extra cheerful smile, partly because she wanted to start the conversation off right and partly to mask her own jumpy nerves.

“All alone today?”

Artemis sized her up for a moment. “Apparently.”

“Sorry about scaring you, I thought you’d seen me coming.”

The look in Artemis’ eyes grew hard. “I’m not scared.”

“I just thought…”

“I said, I’m not scared,” Artemis repeated stubbornly and Lizzie raised her hands in defence.

“Of course not, sorry.”

She waited for Artemis to show any sign of wanting to continue their conversation but received none, so she tried again. “Do you want to come over and sit with the rest of us? You don’t have to sit alone all of the time.”

Artemis’ eyes flickered to where Everett was basking in the sun. “I don’t think so.”

Lizzie was looking in the same direction. “Whistling after you earlier was shit, sorry about that. Ev takes a lot of getting used to, but he doesn’t really mean it that way.”

Now Artemis’ hazel eyes found hers and Lizzie could see a trace of anger flashing in them. “I think he very much meant it that way.”

Lizzie sighed; actually, Artemis was right but that wasn’t something she could downright tell her and still hope to get her to come. “He can be such an idiot, I know. Just forget about him.”

Artemis indicated her headphones. “That was the plan.”

The faint sound of a guitar was reaching Lizzie’s ears from the music that was still playing, and the voice of the singer was sounding familiar. “What are you listening to?”

Artemis watched her critically, probably contemplating just putting her headphones back on, and be done with it. “Some cover songs from a singer from Liverpool. He’s called David Willows. Have you heard of him?”

Lizzie had to laugh. “You could say I’ve met him once or twice back in the days.”

She immediately regretted laughing when Artemis’ eyes narrowed; she had probably given the impression that she was making fun of her.

It was apparent that the unapproachable pyro tech had no intention of continuing their conversation; she was repeatedly glancing at her phone and her whole body language had turned dismissive. Under usual circumstances Lizzie would have given up at this point but she didn’t want to give Skye another opportunity to talk to her.

“What I actually wanted to ask,” she tried for the third time, “Charlie and I want to play another round of water polo. Want to join?”

The look in Artemis’ eyes turned contemptuous. “And climb onto some random guys naked back to make a mickey out of myself?” She demonstratively dropped her eyes to her phone. “No thanks, I’m good.”

Lizzie had to stifle a sigh at her stubbornness. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I said no,” Artemis replied, a lot more sharply than before.

Lizzie felt a flare of temper. “It’s just water polo, why are you making such a fuss about it?”

Artemis' face darkened considerably and Lizzie feared she might have overstepped her mark. But before Artemis could say something, her eyes shifted from Lizzie to something in her back, only moments before Lizzie felt Charlie’s hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

“There you are, little rockstar. Have you persuaded Artemis to join?”

His tone was easy but the look in his eyes wasn’t lost on Lizzie; he wasn’t happy at all she had disregarded his wish to leave Artemis alone.

“I’m afraid not.” Her tone was brusque; she was pissed with Charlie for stepping in.

Charlie’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Hate to say it, but I told you so.”

His attention turned to Artemis, who was just as unhappy with her company than the rest of them. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Artemis sighed deeply. “If you have to.”

She put her phone down and got up and Charlie immediately walked her away from Lizzie. Lizzie’s face darkened and she fought the urge to cross her arms in front of her chest. She was not impressed Charlie had interfered; he was starting to grow overly protective of Artemis, even though she didn’t seem to be the kind of person to need anybody’s protection but her own.

Her thoughts were instantly forgotten, when she suddenly heard Skye’s voice in her back.

“Jameson, you and I, we need to talk.”

Lizzie grimaced before turning around. Skye had her arms crossed and was staring at her accusingly.

“What’s on your mind?” Lizzie sighed.

“You know damn well what’s on my mind,” Skye hissed. “There’s something you need to tell me, right fucking now.”

Lizzie averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Skye snorted. “What in the actual fuck is going on with you and Orion? Don’t try to pull the old innocent-trick on me, we’ve lived together and I know you’re as innocent as Merula next to an empty box of cigarettes.”

Her eyes narrowed when Lizzie didn’t answer. “I saw what you did yesterday at the photoshoot and I saw you earlier next to him as well. You’re not even as handsy when it comes to Charlie and a lot of things make a lot more sense to me now. So, gonna ask you again and you better not lie to me; what’s the deal?”

Lizzie muttered something under her breath, making Skye frown. “What’s that?”

Knowing she would have to tell her friend if she liked it or not, Lizzie sighed. “We may potentially have a little thing going on, if you want to call it that,” she said, not meeting Skye’s eyes.

Just as she had feared, Skye’s voice immediately rose in volume. “Are you out of your bloody mind?”

“Keep your voice down,” Lizzie said angrily, “there’s no need to shout.”

Ignoring her words, Skye continued, albeit with a lower voice. “You know the rules! It’s a clear hands off the other band members. What if dad finds out you guys are dating?”

“He won’t find out if you just shut up about it and keep your nose out of things that aren’t your business,” Lizzie responded sharply. “And for the record, we’re not dating. It’s just some fun, nothing of it.”

Skye pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, clearly exasperated at her friends’ antics. “Can’t believe it, I always thought you were the smart one out of the two of us. How long have you been at it?”

Lizzie fidgeted uncomfortably. “A few months? Maybe?” She faltered under Skye’s withering stare. “Since last August.”

Skye looked at her incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned. “You’re not saying you’ve been shagging our guitarist longer than my longest relationship lasted and never even thought to tell me? Your best friend?”

“At least I’ll have to tell no one else if you don’t stop shouting,” Lizzie replied wryly. “And sorry to say that but your average relationship duration is not a very high benchmark to reach.”

Despite herself, Skye had to suppress a grin. “Fair game.” The smile faded as quickly as it had come when she continued. “Seriously though, are you sure about what you’re doing? It’s a damn right dangerous game you’re playing at, is all I’m saying. What if something goes wrong?”

They both glanced over to where Orion was now again working on whatever song was floating around in his head. Much to their surprise, Artemis was sitting next to him. When she saw them looking, they quickly turned their heads again.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Lizzie insisted, “if anyone should know shagging a colleague can work just fine, it’s you.”

If Lizzie hadn’t known her so well, she might have missed the slight flush creeping onto Skye’s face. “No idea what you’re on about.”

Lizzie made a dismissive sound. “Oh please. Don’t act as if not the whole fucking crew knows about you and Erika.”

Skye raised her chin defiantly. “Okay fine, maybe being friends with benefits can work, but this is different. She’s part of the crew, Orion’s an actual member of the band, and a damn important one at that. If you guys screw things up, we’re all royally fucked.”

“Stop worrying, everything will be alright. Orion and I are completely on the same page with this.”

Lizzie hesitated for a moment. “You’ll keep this to yourself, right? You won’t tell your dad about this?”

Skye looked at her as if she had gone mad for good. “Do you think I’m bonkers? Dad doesn’t need to know everything. Way too involved in our stuff as it is, if you ask me. But you got to promise me one thing.”

Relieved the immediate catastrophe had been averted, Lizzie nodded. “What?”

“Don’t put me into a position where I need to lie to my dad, alright?” There was nothing of the ever present sparkle in Skye’s eyes; she was dead serious about this. “Don’t get too involved with him. This is about family.”

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 3

Neil x Reader

Chapter 3: You know me too well

(see chapter 2, 1)

summary: The mission. And some blowing off steam after that.

warnings: alcohol mention, some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT EVEN MORE THAN BEFORE

author’s note: I need to thank @vaneilla​ for planting the karaoke scene into my head. I found her choice of song absolutely glorious, and it evolved into... oh, see for yourselves.

As for everything else - I don’t even know.

4k words, bloody hell.

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

___

“Thanks for nothing, Wheeler.”

She looked up from her tablet only to see a completely resigned Ives faceplanting on the couch in front of her. As she raised a brow, her glance drifted to The Protagonist pacing back and forth next to the window. 

When TP noticed the question in Wheeler’s eyes, he sighed. She realized that Ives must have filled him in already.

As if he could read her thoughts, the boss said, “Apparently, they’ve been at each other’s throats all day”

“You’re both damn lucky you don’t have to deal with their bullshit out there,” groaned Ives into the pillows.

Wheeler shook her head and a corner of her mouth curled into a knowing smile. 

“A little patience, guys. It's all going according to plan."

Ives muffled huff was enough of a comment, but TP stopped his pacing and shot her a confused look.

"How so?"

Wheeler bit her lip. It took her one minute around them in the canteen to guess what had happened. But if that somehow wasn’t obvious to her colleagues, she was in no place to share the information.

Of course, for a second she was tempted to say “oh, they fucked”,  just to watch Ives’ and TP’s reaction, but she knew better than to do so. Moreover, she had a weird feeling that those two morons would start being weird around them, and that wouldn’t help in the slightest. 

“Trust me, they are close to figuring it out. And then-...”

----------------

You rushed to the next cover, sending a round into a merc running in your direction. As you slid behind a crate and started reloading your rifle, the rest of the squad slowly made their way through the abandoned apartment complex. How all those mercenary groups kept getting their hands on inverted materials was beyond you, but as the boss was trying to figure it out, it was up to the ground teams to secure the cargo. 

"What's with the silent treatment today?" Neil’s voice rang in your earpiece. 

Your eyes quickly located him at the other side of the corridor. Even from a distance, you could see his raised brow as he glanced at you right before heading into the next room. 

"I'm focused on the mission,” you scoffed, checking out on the team before moving further ahead. “You should try that one day." 

As soon as you entered a new location, a bullet whizzed past you and your reflexes kicked in. A quick shot and you spun on your heel, hiding behind a pillar. 

Meanwhile, Neil glued his back to the wall. As another merc walked past him, he disarmed them in one swift move, tossing the gun away.

"Nah, I’m good,” he said casually. You watched him as he ducked under a fist flying at his face and threw a kidney punch himself. “Multitasking." 

You snorted, quite amused, jumping out of your cover to down two more men coming in. You caught Ives’ murderous glare as he moved past you, motioning you to keep up the pace. Nodding, you followed him into a staircase.

"I must admit, not hearing your voice almost made me forget how annoying you are,” you huffed through comms to Neil. Ives shot the merc waiting for you around the corner and you moved up. “And as I don't believe you can actually stop being annoying,” you continued, taking a position at the door, “but how about you don't talk to me ever again instead?" 

You heard footsteps behind you and as you looked over your shoulder, you saw Neil standing right there with his pistol cocked in his gloved hands. He leaned in, a smug grin plastered on his face.

"And lose that spiteful edge to sex we have going there?" he teased quietly and chuckled as your eyes widened at the audacity.

Wishing you could just shoot him in return, you turned away and entered the corridor. Ives waited for you at the door to another unfinished apartment and as soon as you reached him, he blasted through it, while Neil and his team took the door at the other side of the hall.  

"We, and I cannot stress this enough, do not have anything going there, blondie," you uttered through gritted teeth, sweeping through the rooms.

Sharp laughter resonated in your earpiece. 

"Sure sounds like someone needs round two, though."

Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the events of that late evening in the locker room. Neither of you has mentioned it for the last couple of days, and you kinda hoped it would stay that way. Not that you could ever erase it from your memory. And the worst part was, there were moments you were no longer sure you would ever want to.

A movement in the corner of your eye. 

That confusion might keep you up at night, but with daylight, you came back to your senses, and a little remark was not enough to cloud your lightning reflexes while you held a gun. A shot echoed through the room and another merc dropped to the ground. 

"In your dreams," you scoffed on your way back to the corridor. 

"Funny you should say that…" 

You noticed Neil walking into the line of fire in the last second.

“Watch out!” you shouted, grabbing him by the vest and pulling him back inside the apartment. You shoved him against the wall and pressed your forearm to his chest to keep him in place as the round meant for him cut through the now empty hallway. While the rest of the team returned fire and pushed forward, you caught a glimpse of fear in the blue eyes just before Neil managed to compose himself. The corner of his lips twitched into a nervous version of his usual half-smile.

For fuck’s sake...

“Well, this brings back fond memories,” he panted, raising an eyebrow.

You flashed your teeth and pressed him to the wall even harder. 

“Shut up and focus, goddamnit, or I swear I will let you walk straight into the next rain of bullets,” you fumed. 

Your serious glare made Neil gulp and nod slowly. You took a step back as you exhaled shakily. 

Readjusting the rifle’s strap, you shook off any remains of panic from your system. Neil watched you with an indecipherable expression on his face as he reloaded his pistol. You met his eyes, just to make sure he was good to go. Finding there what you were looking for, you smacked his arm lightly and ran towards the sounds of combat.

You joined your squad, focusing on providing support as you closed in on the final location. Neil rushed to the front of the action, and even from afar you could see his moves got more vicious, every blow and shot landing now with deadly precision. For a second you wondered what exactly got triggered inside of him back there.

Whatever that was though, it wasn’t enough to hold his tongue for too long.

"Hey, at least now you had a chance to slam me against a wall."

You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically, already regretting saving his infuriating ass. 

“You know, I daydream about strangling you more and more often every day.”

A few shots later, the all-clear sounded through the earpiece. You moved to secure the exit as Ives checked the contents of the crates in the back of the room. 

Neil took a position right next to you, eyeing you curiously.

“Is it a threat or a promise?”

Seeing the familiar roguish sparks sent your blood boiling.

You narrowed your eyes, letting a sly grin on your face.

“Do you really wanna find out?”

“You two either kill or fuck each other already,” huffed Ives, walking by you with the most done expression you’d seen on him in years. “Whatever you decide, please keep it off comms, eh?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to blush furiously. Neil’s failed attempt at stifling an amused giggle wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

As you finally looked back at the bane of your existence, he tilted his head, biting his lip before speaking up again, and somehow you knew exactly what he was about to say.

“I’m up for whatever.”

You groaned.

...yep, that was it.

----------------

One of the teams’ unwinding rituals included going to the nearby pub for drinks and karaoke. You weren’t the biggest fan of singing in public yourself and no amount of alcohol could change that, but you never skipped the opportunity of watching your squadmates getting shitfaced and pouring their hearts out through the mic. That night was no different, and even though you were taking it easy with drinking, the rest of the crew was already deep in the party mood. 

You watched Wheeler singing Black Velvet from your spot at the counter. You used to spend much more time together, but she’d got designated to leading inverted teams and you got stuck at Ives’ squad. Not that you were complaining. 

You always had good banter with him, and even the unfortunate beginning of your relationship wasn’t enough to change that. You ended up being good friends and you knew he always had your back no matter what. Even when he was absolutely tired of your bullshit. 

You cringed at the memory of his comment earlier that day. 

And because the universe wasn’t done with tormenting you just yet, you felt Neil’s presence next to you. You turned your head and glanced at him, ready to meet his aggravating stare. To your surprise, you found him standing there with his eyes fixed on his drink instead, evidently having an internal battle with himself. 

Neil noticed your puzzled expression and took a big sip from the glass before looking at you. A sheepish smile on his lips was something new, and it only made you even more confused.

“Hey,” he said, raking the fingers through his hair. “Thank you. For earlier.”

“Don’t mention it,” you huffed, frowning slightly.

“It’s nice to know you have my back, just in case.”

You were annoyed that he was making such a big deal out of it. But there was something in the blue eyes that softened your gaze and you gave Neil a reassuring smile.

“Of course,” you said and cleared your throat. “Besides,“ - a corner of your lips twitched - “I couldn’t let you get killed in such a stupid way right under my nose, I wouldn’t want it to taint my next eval’.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “No other reason?”

“Like what?” 

You regretted asking the question as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course, Neil’s eyes lit up in response and he smirked.

“You would miss me.”

"Ah, there it is," you snorted, fighting the urge to punch him. "For a moment I was scared I was starting to like you, thanks."

He chuckled. “Oh no, we wouldn't want that now, would we," he teased, leaning your way with a roguish smile.

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the heart fluttering in your chest.

Neil hummed and downed his drink. A mischievous spark in his eyes suddenly made you nervous. 

“What now?” you asked, dreading the answer already.

Neil’s expression was nothing but innocent. 

“I believe it’s my turn.” 

You watched him make his way to the mic. Letting out a deep sigh, you shook your head. 

That man was going to be the death of you one day.

You finished your drink and joined the rest of the team in the booth right in front of the makeshift scene. As soon as you sat down, a familiar song started and your widened eyes darted at Neil, who was just casually adjusting the rolled-up sleeves of his striped shirt. 

...it must have been a mistake.

His wicked grin as he met your horrified gaze was enough to tell you he knew exactly what he was doing.

He started singing with no hesitation, smiling to himself.

Under the lovers sky

Gonna be with you

And no one's gonna be around 

Neil’s eyes fixed on you and he raised a brow. A small incoherent noise escaped your mouth, luckily drowning in your squad’s encouraging whooping.

If you think that you won't fall

Well just wait until

'Til the sun goes down 

You met Wheeler’s amused look over the table.

“Why is he that way?” you whined, hiding your face in your palms. 

Underneath the starlight, starlight

There's a magical feeling so right 

You could hear the smile in his voice and you forced yourself to glance back at Neil. 

it will steal your heart tonight 

Catching your eyes again, he winked, making you exhale sharply in response.

You can try to resist

Try to hide from my kiss

You thought about the way you evaded his kiss at that locker room and your chest tightened at that memory.

Don't you know, don't you know

That you, can't fight the moonlight

He knew the song by heart, and you couldn’t wrap your head around that fact.

Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart

But you know, but you know that you

And by the way he commanded everyone’s attention, you saw it wasn’t his first performance. 

Can't fight the moonlight. No

His voice was clear and he was definitely having fun up there.

You can't fight it

...too much fun, if anybody asked you.

It's gonna get to your heart

He walked up to the booth and a spike of panic flashed in your brain.

There's no escaping love

He made his way to Ives, a mischievous grin lighting his face.

Once the gentle breeze

Neil ran a finger along your friend’s bearded jaw, leaving Ives frozen in shock. 

Weaves a spell upon your heart

Neil turned to you and your breath hitched as you realized what was about to happen.

No matter what you think

A few steps more.

It won't be too long

He stopped right in front of you.

'Til you're in my arms

He leaned your way, putting a finger under your chin and tilting it up gently.

Underneath the starlight, starlight

He moved even closer, his eyes wandering along your features.

We'll be lost in the rhythm so right

The emphasis on the last words combined with the look on his face made your mind go blank.

Feel it steal your heart tonight

...that was clearly his plan for the night, huh?

You forced yourself to start breathing again as Neil chuckled through the next line. 

Bloody hell, you hated the effect he had on you. 

You caught a glimpse of a smug smile before he turned away. Leveling your breath, you watched as he stepped back on the stage, hoping he wouldn’t have any other stupid ideas.

But Neil seemed to be satisfied with what he’d put you through and just continued the song. 

He even aimed for one of the high notes, scrunching his nose and giggling as his voice wavered for a second, and you couldn’t stop your lips from curling at the sight. There was something endearing in his joyful demeanor out there, and you wondered how many sides to him you had yet to discover.

Before you had a chance to get too soft, he finished singing and looked at you again. The dark shade in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. 

You needed another drink. Stat.

At least he had enough decency to let you collect yourself before he joined you at the bar. Neil ordered a vodka tonic and leaned his back against the counter, eyeing you curiously.

“So?”

You stifled a giggle, shaking your head. “For a second I thought you might start dancing on the counter."

He laughed at the reference.

"And for a second, I thought about doing that,” he said, reaching for his drink. He smiled slyly at your amused snort and continued, lowering his voice slightly, “but I didn't want you to lose your mind. Or faint, for that matter… I want you conscious for later."

Neil took a sip from the glass, savoring the effect of his words on you as you stared at him with a slack jaw.

"You want me--"

"Yes." 

You blinked rapidly, composing yourself. The last thing you needed was to give him the satisfaction of making you flustered so easily. 

But you couldn’t resist playing his game even for a moment. 

Just to see if he would back down.

"And what is it exactly that you think it's gonna happen later?" you said, taking a step in his direction. 

Neil raised a brow, turning your way. His gaze flared up as he searched your eyes for your intentions, moving even closer to you.

"Spoilers.”

"Riiight,” you smirked. The rising temperature between the two of you was slowly hazing over your mind, making your breath shallow as you taunted, “Or maybe you're all talk."

The throaty chuckle sent the heart racing in your chest. 

"Want to try me?" he teased, grazing his knuckles against your bare arm, and it took all your resolve not to tremble at the sensation. 

The pulse pounded in your ears as you took his drink from his hand, finishing it in one swing. You looked into his eyes, dark and yearning, and a corner of your lips curled.

"Well, no need to wait 'til the sun goes down', anymore."

“Blimey.”

A few moments later, you found yourself in an empty restroom, tugging at Neil’s shirt until your back hit the cold wall. His wicked grin widened at your eagerness as he grabbed your waist with one hand, running the other one through your hair. You splayed your palms on his heaving chest, moving them up to his neck to pull him closer. 

Neil tilted his head and leaned in to kiss you, but just as your lips were about to meet, your whole body tensed and it was enough to make him stop instantly. He pulled back to look at you, concerned.

"What's wrong?” he asked in a husky voice. 

You huffed, frustrated. At your own reaction. At him suddenly being all gentleman about it. And at yourself again, for not appreciating his concern. 

But it wasn’t the right moment to talk about it, and you were pretty sure he would be all weird about it if you didn’t say anything. 

"It's just--... “ you hesitated, your mind rushing to find any plausible excuse. As you finally found one, your face lit up and you nibbled at your bottom lip, staring at him challengingly. “Don't you get all soft on me now, blondie." 

You almost squirmed under his predatory gaze. Neil brought his hand to your throat, and as his fingers wrapped around it, he leaned to whisper to your ear.

"Suit yourself."

When his teeth grazed your earlobe, you gasped, feeling the feverish heat rushing through your veins. His mouth trailed down your neck as he moved his hand higher, tilting your chin with his thumb just before he brushed it against your lips. You shut your eyes and bit back a moan, feeling Neil smiling and then he ran the tip of his tongue along the crook of your neck.

All of the sudden, you heard voices on the other side of the door. Before you could react, Neil grabbed your hand and pulled you into the stall at the farthest corner of the restroom, turning the lock and pinning you to the wall again with your wrists above your head.

You exhaled sharply as you spotted the roguish sparks in his eyes. 

As some people entered the restroom, Neil stroked your temple with his nose and breathed, “Looks like we need to keep quiet.“ 

You swallowed hard and shuddered, the pulse thumping in your ears.

Still keeping his fingers wrapped around your wrists, his other hand wandered down your body slowly. He studied the way you melted into his touch, taking pleasure at the sight of the animalistic need that clouded your eyes. The last coherent thought left your mind when you felt his hand sliding under your dress, grazing against your thighs, higher and higher, and you bucked your hips, silently urging him to keep moving. 

Neil’s lips parted slightly and he leaned in, kissing your neck just as his fingers trailed under the hem of your panties right to your pulsing core. You threw the head back against the wall and your thighs tightened involuntarily as if to prevent him from backing away now.

“Christ, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet,” Neil chuckled breathlessly to your ear and yanked your underwear down your legs in one swift motion. Securing the grip on your wrists, he palmed over you again, moving his hand back and forth, his digits pressing against your folds firmer with every stroke and you let out an inaudible gasp, feeling the fire at the pit of your stomach growing by the minute. 

But when his thumb started rubbing circles over your clit, you buried your face in the crook of his neck to stifle a cry ready to escape your mouth any second now. Without skipping a beat, Neil gently tapped his foot on the side of your shoe and you instantly followed his suggestion, spreading your legs for him. He hummed in approval, slipping one, then two, fingers into you, and you sank your teeth in your bottom lip as the sudden bolt of pleasure seared your every nerve. 

Neil picked up the pace, curling his fingers inside you just right, and a quiet moan built in your throat and you nuzzled your face into his neck even further; the spicy scent of his cologne ingraining in your hazed mind with every shaky breath you took. 

Feeling you getting closer to the edge, Neil let go of your wrists and pushed you back on the wall. Cupping your face with his free hand, he pressed a thumb against your mouth firmly. You panted heavily as he kept tracing your parted lips in almost the same rhythm as his fingers slid in and out of your throbbing core. You closed your eyes as the fire from the pit of your stomach almost consumed you. 

And just when you thought that you couldn’t take much more, you felt the pad of his thumb grazing against the tip of your tongue at the same time the other one flicked your clit. Your mind went blank and you sucked on his finger, trying to muffle a whimper.

“Good girl,” Neil breathed into your ear. “Now come for me.”

And so you did, your every particle dissolving into a blissful pleasure roaming through your body wave after wave. 

When you regained your senses, you were greeted by the self-satisfied grin you knew all too well. You scoffed and shook your head, too much of a mess to form a coherent comment. You listened for a second, trying to figure out if there was anyone outside, but it seemed that you two were alone, at least for now. Then your eyes wandered down and your mouth watered at the sight. 

Without thinking twice over it, you palmed the bulk in Neil’s trousers, looking up to meet his gaze. 

The hint of surprise mixed with the sheer hunger in the dark blue eyes made your racing heart skip a bit.

"Are you sure?" he rasped, placing hands on your waist.

You nodded, your fingers already fighting with his belt. 

"Stop talking."

Neil raised a brow, amused. 

"Maybe you should ask nicely."

You looked at him in disbelief and turned towards the stall’s door, huffing, "Maybe I should leave you like this."

Neil wrapped his arms around you.

"Mhm," he murmured into your neck as he squeezed your breast, his other hand sliding down your body.

"Fuck--" you gasped as his fingers pressed to your clit again.

His throaty chuckle vibrated on your back.

"What was that?" 

You moaned, rolling your hips to brush against him.

"...please."

----------------

You dampened a paper towel to clean your smudged makeup.

"Wanna grab something to eat?"

You glanced at Neil’s reflection in the mirror, watching as he tucked the shirt in his pants.

"You're reading too much into this,” you tried to make your voice as casual as possible.

"I wouldn't dare," he laughed, joining you by the mirror. "What if I promise not to talk to you unless you ask me to?" 

You mused over it for a moment, staring at Neil’s attempts to fix his messy hair.

"And if you break the promise?"

The blue eyes met yours and lit up.

"I'll let you punish me however you see fit."

You scoffed. 

...but then a corner of your lips twitched into a half-smile.

(next chapter ->)

[bratzkoo]

delivery! (i)

 credits to @monvante​​ for making this beautiful banner (and divider!) Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: pizza delivery guy! jungkook x reader x seokjin Genre: fluff, comedy (i think?), semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 1.5k Warnings/note: underage drinking, obsession with pizza, swearing, there has been a huge misunderstanding with who the reader is in love with, seokjin is oblivious with the readers feelings, jungkook being the other half of the busan torture device, i made some changes with their ages, pls tell me if there’s more warning i need to put. it’s a highschool! au but there will be an eventual time skip. Summary: You planned a grand gesture to confess to your long time crush (or as you like to call him: “the love of my life”) and things turned out to be horrible on your part. One, you accidentally confessed to the wrong person. Two, he accepted your confession. Three, your crush accepted someone else’s confession! aka you confessed to your pizza delivery guy and now he thinks the both of you are dating. delivery! ii  | requests are open | masterlist

“Hey, Chim.” You greeted your best friend and sat down next to him in the cafeteria. “Hello there--” Jimin stops when he sees how you look. “You look... how do I say this in the nicest way possible?” “Just say I look horrible, Chim.” You said as you put fries and chicken nuggets in your burger then taking a large bite, not caring if other people think it’s weird. “No, Y/N! You look, okay, you know what. You do look horrible, what happened to you?” Jimin held out his hand to feel your forehead, checking if you’re sick. “Stayed up all night planning my confession to Jin before he graduates and leaves me in this horrible hell hole with you.” “You’re my best friend in the whole wide world, too.” He sarcastically replies. “You think he’ll accept you if you confess to him looking like you got off from your role in the walking dead?” “Who’s confessing to who?” You smile when Sana--your recently new friend sits down in front of you. “Oh, Y/N is confessing to - mmh.” You shove fries in Jimin’s mouth to stop him from talking. He spits it out and glares at you. “You have someone you like, Y/N?” she asked. “Why didn’t I know that?” she puts her chin at the back of her hand, leaning in. “It’s Seokjin.” you said, you don’t notice how Sana stiffens and masks it with a bright smile. “That’s great, Y/N.” she says. She suddenly grabs your cheeks. “Why do you look so tired? You better get some rest.” “I will.” you say. she removes her hands to your face and starts to eat. “You’re too nice, Sana. I called her a zombie when I saw her.” Jimin says. “I personally th--” You shove chicken nuggets on his mouth to shut him up once again, instead of spitting it out he happily chewed it. You scan the whole cafeteria to check if he’s around, you know the love of your life Kim Seokjin. It’s easy to find him because he’s in the middle of everything, like the star that he is. His friends are bickering while he silently eats. He has always been calm when in public and prefers to let loose only with people that he’s comfortable with. Seokjin is your senior who has been your friend for a while now, he became close with you because of a competition the two of you joined for the school. You have grown close enough for you to have grown feelings for him. Seokjin suddenly met your eye, catching you staring at him (or ogling at him if you’re not Mr. Kim Oblivious Seokjin), he smiles and waves at you. You blush as you wave back. He tries to mouth something like “See you tonight.” You give him a thumbs up and then he goes back in eating his food. You sighed wondering why you fell in love with this dense guy in the first place. If he wasn’t even oblivious with your massive crush on him, you wouldn’t even plan this confession anyways. You stayed up all night preparing for this day to be perfect and you’ll be damned if your confession didn’t go as your plan. The confession will happen tonight. You hope he says yes and you don’t have to proceed to “plan: he doesn’t like me back” which is just eat 8 pints of ice cream while watching 27 dresses. Nevertheless, you hope for the best.

What you didn’t hope was Seokjin cancelling your plans. You asked him to call you if he’s on his way and you did receive a call, except he calls to tell you he couldn’t make it. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t make pizza night, my friend has an emergency.” He says over the phone. You began to feel down, you wished you pretend you had an emergency too so he would just come in but you felt guilty for his friend who probably is hurt. “I understand, you go do your thing.” You say. “I’m truly sorry, I’ll make it up to you. Bye.” He drops the call in a hurry.  Now you’re in an empty house (courtesy of your parents leaving you to go visit your sister studying in Europe) filled with decorations.  You hold onto your phone and call Pizzeria’s Haven-- the only pizza place you trust-- to order 2 cheese supreme so you can mope in peace while stuffing yourself later. You grab your mom’s margarita on the fridge and began pouring out for yourself in a mug, your mom didn’t mind because “As long as you do it in the house, you’re drinking responsibly, you promise not to vomit on the carpet, and most importantly not telling your dad that the bottles labeled ‘herbal supplement’ are margarita in disguise... you can drink to your heart’s content.” You take a sip from the mug as you skim through your netflix account to find Catching Fire, a movie that will make you feel better every time you see shirtless Finnick Odair. Your pizza arrives and you open the door to find Jungkook holding 2 boxes of pizza with a smile on his face.  “Delivery!” He greets when he sees your face. “Y/N!” “Hey, Jungkook!” You greet back and grab the pizza he’s holding and give him the money- with an extra for his tip. “Want to stay and eat this with me?” You guess you were too lonely and kinda tipsy that you impulsively ask if he wants to stay to eat pizza with you.  Jungkook grows flustered, “I- I can’t, I have to take calls and deliver pizza.” He declines, you raise your eyebrow. “What bullshit did Jimin say to get off work today?” You ask, knowing your friend tends to leave Jungkook to work by himself during weekend night shift. If he’s not the son of the owner he’s long fired from his job by now. “He’s actually busy serving dine-in customers, hectic night. I really gotta run.” He explains as he walks towards his motorcycle. “Good luck on that!” You say as you close your door. You put the pizza boxes on top of the coffee table, opening it to grab three slices then putting them together before you take a bite.  You planned everything to be perfect and it turn out this way. You might as well go crazy, get drunk, and purge yourself with pizza.

You woke up with a very bad headache the following day, you apparently passed out in your living room with the empty bottle of your mom’s ‘herbal supplement’ laying on the floor with you. You checked your phone for the time but saw skeptic messages from an unknown number and from Jimin. Unknown number [2:00 am]: Y/N it’s me [2:02 am]: It’s yes... [2:03 am]: I’ll come see you at 2 pm Chimmy boy [2:10 am]: yow bitch, you’re dating jeon jungkook?! i thought you’re confessing to seokjin? [2:11 am]: you got some explaining to do What the hell? You groggily unlocked your phone to reply to Jimin and ignored the messages from the unknown number... for now. Y/N [11:12 am]: jwu what r u talking about? explain in detail, im vv hangover Chimmy boy [11:20 am]: bitch you’ve been drinking without me, how dare you. Y/N [11:23 am]: ugh shut up, come over so we can talk Chimmy boy [11:27 am]: i’ll come tonight, want to sleep more You drop your phone to the sofa and start to clean off your mess from last night when few of the memories did came back to you. “Hey, you. I like you...Fuck...I like you so much.”  “I invited you and If you could have seen the effort I made! I mean, I know you were busy but you could’ve gone here after you’re done?” “Instead of a grand gesture sort of confession, I’m confessing to you on the phone! On the phone!”  “You have my number... you can tell me your answer by then. Just say yes or no, I’ll be waiting.” Oh no, you confess to Seokjin when you were drunk. You regret not hiding your phone away from your stupid drunk self but it seems as he said yes. So what’s with Jimin telling me I’m dating Jungkook?  Seokjin said yes and he’s coming to your house at 2 pm. You scream in excitement and run towards your closet to find something cute when you open the door for him later. You could use a shower too, it feels like you sweated the alcohol you consumed last night. By the time it was 2:03 pm someone rang the doorbell, you shake in nervousness when you open the door that reveals Jungkook smiling and holding flowers. Your eyebrows furrow seeing him. He hands you the bouquet of flowers and cheerfully say, “Delivery!”

[featherfur]

Museum Bonding

Characters: Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng

Warnings: Blood and arguing, Modern Au, Sometimes You Just Gotta Punch It Out

Words: 4.5k

Summary: Wei Wuxian wants his brother and fiancé to get along and decides to leave them alone at a museum. It works, but it takes a few punches and a near heart attack for Wei Wuxian. Apparently, punching fiancé's is a family tradition.

Read me on Ao3, Ko-Fi is on Sidebar

“Wei Wuxian you need to come get your fiancé this fucking instant.” Jiang Cheng’s voice hissed through the phone as Wuxian put it to his ear.

With a soft sigh, Wuxian grabbed a spoon and continued his stirring before he bothered to answer Jiang Cheng’s begging. Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan were supposed to be bonding while Wuxian helped Yanli finish cooking. He’d only been gone for two hours and apparently they were already at each other’s throats.

“Chengcheng, please, what did he do? You know you can’t treat him like me, he and his brother aren’t like us.” Wuxian hummed, thinking about the well-mannered Xichen fondly. They really were so much more lowkey in their arguments.

“I hate you, I hate you so much and I hate him… We’re… bonding and I don’t like it.” The way Jiang Cheng howled it into the phone, Wuxian would have thought he was being actively killed rather than just wandering around a museum.

Wuxian laughed so hard he dropped the spoon onto the floor and had to fall back against the counter. He tried to stifle it with a hand to his mouth but it did nothing to stop the flowing giggles.

In the other room Yanli gave him an alarmed look but that just made the giggles turn into wheezing. Even Jiang Cheng’s angry growling in his ear did absolutely nothing to help cut off the endless stream. He tried his best, he really did, but this was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard out of his brother and he would remember this for years.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s voice came through the phone, sounding almost as distressed as Jiang Cheng and the laughter only increased.

“Wa-wait…” He wheezed, fumbling around for the spoon and taking the second to grab a clean one to suck in a few breaths. They sounded so upset at getting along, what was Wuxian supposed to do?

“Okay, okay, I’m… I’m back.” Wuxian still snickered to himself as he started stirring again at Yanli’s pointed look. Pregnant and missing her husband was not leading to a happy Yanli and Wuxian did not want to be the one at the bad end of her disappointed face.

“Can I please come stay with you?” Lan Zhan said, and if it was anyone else Wuxian would have said it was a whine but of course his amazing Lan Zhan would never.

Suppressing another round of laughter, Wuxian shook his head and smiled at the pan instead. Was it cheesy of him to still be so excited and fuzzy-feeling whenever Lan Zhan said anything about being with him? Yes. Would Wuxian ever stop? Nope.

“Lan Zhan.” Wuxian finally said, trying his best to use a stern tone that definitely wasn’t working. “Jiang Cheng, you two are supposed to be bonding. Why is that so bad?”

The phone scratched and made a shuffling noise before Jiang Cheng’s voice came back.

“Did you know your fiancé loves art history?”

Wei Wuxian nodded to himself, wondering why that was a big deal. Was Jiang Cheng just grumpy that Lan Zhan knew more about the paintings? Or maybe Lan Zhan had corrected the guide, that had happened the last time they’d gone together.

“Xichen is a well known artist, I’d be more confused if Lan Zhan wasn’t interested in it-”

“Did you know that your brother loves art history?” Lan Zhan’s voice cut in and that was news to Wuxian.

“Uh, no? Jiang Cheng hates it, he failed three art classes in college. Had to get a job and everything to pay for them because his mother wouldn’t pay for them.”

“I didn’t-” Jiang Cheng’s voice cut off and Wuxian just knew his fiancé was giving Jiang Cheng a glare of absolute loathing for daring to lie even if it was to get along with Lan Zhan. “Wuxian, I did not fail three classes.”

Jiang Cheng’s voice dropped into the lowest hiss as if someone was going to crawl out of the walls with his mother to yell at him again. It had not been a good two years and even Jin Zixuan had been trying to offer Jiang Cheng money to just take a different elective so he could pass. Jiang Cheng, like usual, had been too damn stubborn to admit defeat and had just re-taken the same classes even when his parents had cut the college fund.

Wei Wuxian understood not wanting to admit to that, especially when the Jiang name held prestige in the fashion industry, and if it was anyone else then Wuxian would be happy to lie. Not to Lan Zhan though, never to Lan Zhan.

Wuxian opened his mouth to inform him of just that, when Jiang Cheng cut him off with an embarrassed confession.

“Tell your perfect fiancé to stop looking at me like that… I didn’t fail the classes, I didn’t want to graduate yet and have to go into the business so I lied and said I failed them. No one looked at my transcripts, I took a different class each time, I didn’t realize you actually believed that bullshit.” Jiang Cheng confessed sullenly and Wuxian wished he was standing beside him so he could kick his ass.

“You what?” Wuxian howled at the phone, dropping it onto the counter and pressing the speaker when Yanli ran into the room in a panic. “You tell Yanli-jie what you just said right now.”

“No wait- She’s going to be ups-”

“A-Cheng.”

“Fuck.” The phone went silent and Wei Wuxian wondered what silent conversation Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng were glaring out. If it wasn’t for the fact that Yanli was now in this, he would be driving over there just to watch it go down.

“Okay… fucking… You remember when Mom kicked you out? You left and you said ‘don’t be a pushover when I can’t protect you’.” Jiang Cheng started and Wei Wuxian wailed dramatically, smacking himself in the face.

“I meant don’t let Jin Zixun talk shit, I didn’t mean… Lan Zhan, smack him for me! Twice!” There was a moment of almost audible mutual glaring. “Jiang Cheng, oh my god, oh my god. This is why she hated me, I turned you into a disgrace.”

“Shut up, I have two Master’s degrees from it even Jin Zixuan only has one.” Jiang Cheng shouted back before shuffling came over the phone and Wuxian realized Lan Zhan was probably shoving him out of the quiet museum.

“Enough yelling,” Yanli sighed softly, “A-Cheng, what are you talking about?”

It took a moment but finally Jiang Cheng’s voice came through at a much softer tone.

“I… wanted to get back at Mom for kicking Wuxian out, and I wanted to major in Art history anyways. Dad said that I had to go into business to take over Lotus, the only difference for the degrees were three classes so I just… Did both of them. Told Mom I’d failed to make a point, I’m perfectly fine at fucking up my life without Wuxian in it. Wait, why am I even having this conversation?”

“That backfired real fucking quick didn’t it.” Wuxian growled, he could see Jiang Cheng’s wince and the stubborn set to his shoulders.

How could his little brother be so stupid? He could have just done classes on the side, there was no need to get back at his parents. Wei Wuxian never held that against them, never! If he’d known it was all a stupid childish grudge that caused Jiang Cheng to get kicked out of the house for two years, he would have dragged him back and apologized himself.

“Shut up, I loved those classes! The only part of college that was fucking worth it. Don’t give me that look Lan Wangji, not all of us get to do what we want with our lives.”

“I did not give you a look-”

“You did, it’s the same fucking look you give me every time you see me. Like you have no fucking clue how your perfect precious Wei Ying came to be so amazing with me as a brother, like you’re disgusted with having to see me exist or fuck up-”

“I have not once-“

“Hey hey! You two stop it, both of you now. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, can you please walk away for me?” Wuxian barked into the phone, trying to be louder than their arguing but he had no idea if either of them even remembered that he was still there.

“-give a fuck if you hate me, you’re-”

“I have never said that I-”

“He’s my fucking family and I-”

“Wei Ying is-”

“Lan Zhan! Jiang Cheng! Come on you two please stop fighting, guys I swear I will cry.” He tried again but the growling didn’t stop for even a second.

“-I don’t care! Who do think gives a damn about you-”

The call ended with a rather concerning cracking and Wuxian’s head fell directly into the cupboard. Even the pain wasn’t enough to get him to actually concentrate, what just happened?

One moment they’re getting along, and apparently bonding to the point that both of them were actually worried and now they’re screaming at each other because of a lie that wasn’t even involving Lan Zhan! A lie that was completely and utterly Wuxian’s fault for pissing off Yu Ziyuan and somehow convincing his brother to go insane by trying to tell him to not let Jin Zixun kick him around.

“Jie…” He turned to her, eyes wide and hopeful. She would be able to tell him what to do or atleast what was going on. Right?

Even Yanli looked completely taken aback, her mouth moving soundlessly. They stared at each other, both trying to figure out how to fix this.

Atleast when Wuxian had punched Jin Zixuan he’d been fourteen, not twenty eight and in public. Was this going to be a tradition? Was Yanli going to sock Jiang Cheng’s future spouse?

The front door creaked open with a soft call from Jin Zixuan and they both snapped back to themselves.

“A-Xuan, I need you to drive A-Ying to the museum. I have to keep the food from burning.” Yanli said immediately, grabbing the spoon to stir before things started to burn. Jin Zixuan’s face came around the corner looking rather like a kicked puppy at the lack of greeting.

If it wasn’t a matter of life and death, Wuxian might have actually thought it was cute. But it was so he didn’t care and simply grabbed his arm to drag him out. Yanli was too far along in her pregnancy to be running after the two so Wuxian didn’t mind going alone anyways.

“Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan got into a fight,” Wuxian finally explained as he shoved his feet into his shoes. That got Zixuan’s attention and he picked his keys up again and let himself be pulled out after a quick declaration of love towards Yanli’s stirring form.

“A fight? I mean Jiang Cheng I understand, but Wangji?” Jin Zixuan looked even more bewildered than Wuxian felt, but that didn’t stop him from freezing until he’d scowled Jin Zixuan into a mumbled apology.

“Just… Just get us there and we’ll explain everything over dinner.”

Wuxian tried to call Lan Zhan the moment he was in the car, tapping his feet anxiously against the bottom of the floor. For once, Zixuan didn’t bother to complain about it and just drove a little faster when the phone reached voicemail.

“Are you sure it was a fight? Don’t give me that look! Wanyin has a temper but he doesn’t just attack people… That aren’t you.” Zixuan amended and Wuxian hid his face behind his hands with a loud groan.

That was true, Jiang Cheng had a temper but he’d also been running Lotus LLC. for years and knew how to keep himself calm. Which meant that either Lan Zhan had said something truly unforgivable (for Jiang Cheng atleast) or Lan Zhan threw the first punch.

Wuxian couldn’t even say that it was impossible, Lan Zhan was more than a little overprotective of him. If Jiang Cheng said the wrong thing or it sounded like the wrong thing…

“Oh my god I’ve ruined my family a second time.” He said desperately, wanting nothing more than to just be home, preferably in the arms of his fiancé.

“Hey, hey, if something happens it’ll blow over eventually.” Zixuan said awkwardly before a very hesitant and flat hand patted Wuxian’s head. “Right? Family no matter what, even if you break someone’s nose, I said that before right? Remember you hated me and now you don’t.”

“Oh god Jiang Cheng’s going to break Lan Zhan’s nose and he’s going to hate the rest of my family.” Wuxian cried, pressing his hands firmer against his face so he didn’t actually start sobbing. If he was the reason why the love of his life hated his family then Wuxian would never be able to forgive himself or feel like he deserved to look at any of them.

“No- I… No you don’t hate me, and I don’t hate you and I’m making this worse.” Zixuan cursed tried to squeeze Wuxian’s shoulder comfortingly before he focused on the road, trying to figure out when he started actually caring about Wuxian and his partner.

__

Dark hair took up most of Jiang Wanyin’s vision as he blinked rapidly, the tears still pricking at his eyes. He tried to sniff but agony just shot up his nose instead and he groaned angrily.

“How bad is it?”

Lan Wangji’s hum did nothing to assuage his fears but a second later pale eyes met Jiang Wanyin’s and the man nodded.

“It’s not broken.” Lan Wangji finally said, carefully pressing a few more napkins onto the bloody mess. Jiang Wanyin swatted his hand away and moved to hold it himself, tilting his head to follow Lan Wangji’s movements to the bench beside him.

“You,” Jiang Wanyin started with a bump to Lan Wangji’s shoulder, “have a hard fucking head. Welcome to the family.”

Lan Wangji bristled like an angry bird before he blinked and realized that Jiang Wanyin was grinning at him. He was trying to be friendly.

Lan Wangji quietly reminded himself to tell Xichen just how much he appreciated having a mentally sane brother.

“I’m sorry I broke your phone.” Wangji finally said, looking down at the shattered screen in Jiang Wanyin’s hand.

“Don’t worry about it, I broke yours too when you fell on it… Wuxian’s going to have a heart attack though.”

Lan Wangji winced at the reminder, Wei Ying was incredibly attached to both of them and the last thing he’d heard was Lan Wangji headbutting his brother. Then he winced again at pain rocketing across his face, and reached up to tenderly press against the freshly bruised skin on his eye.

“Oh, right, lemme see.” Jiang Wanyin didn’t bother to wait for permission, just reached over to turn Lan Wangji’s face over.

It took every ounce of Lan Wangji’s patience not to headbutt him again, but after taking a punch to the face it really wasn’t worth it. Besides, if Wei Ying came over while Wangji was fighting his brother it would make things that much worse. He could barely fathom that not even fifteen minutes ago he and Jiang Wanyin had actually started to like each other and now they were both bruised and bloody.

“I didn’t hit hard enough to worry about cracking your skull, so you probably don’t need an X-ray, but if it stays a sharp pain I’d go in anyways, or if you can't move your eye.” Jiang Wanyin said knowledgeably, Lan Wangji wondered how he knew so much but at the same time he didn’t really care about that right now.

“Are you saying that you pulled your punch?” Lan Wangji said blankly. That punch had hurt, and Jiang Wanyin had pulled it?

“Of course I did, If I didn’t you’d be on your way to the hospital with a broken nose and a cracked eye. I grew up with Wuxian, do you really think we never got into scuffles? Got to the point, Dad signed us up for classes so we’d punch other people instead… Never stopped us though.” Jiang Wanyin said fondly, dabbing at the still bleeding nose and leaning back into the bench now that his examination was over.

“Why would you fight your brother?” Lan Wangji was aghast, of course Wei Ying had told him about some of the fights he’d gotten into when he was younger, but he’d never realized how physical he meant. He couldn’t even imagine punching Xichen, or, heaven forbid, Xichen punching him.

“Why wouldn’t I? Oh right, you were raised properly.” It didn’t sound sarcastic so Lan Wangji didn’t react. “Sometimes you just get pissed off and you have nothing else to do but to tackle your idiot brother until Jiejie comes over to help. Don’t look at me like that, Wuxian broke my arm, twice. And the second time wasn’t even my fault.”

Jiang Wanyin’s head turned toward him with an almost evil mirth.

“You got grown-up Wei Ying, I got feral Wei Wuxian. Do you know how many times that little shit would pick fights then bolt back to hide behind me when he realized he was out-sized or out-numbered? Another reason we had to take defence classes, even if we were outnumbered, if we had each other’s back we weren’t going down easy. This way we stopped coming home bloody.”

Again Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, just sat quietly and watched the park in front of them as he thought. Wei Ying had told him multiple times that Jiang Wanyin wasn’t like Xichen, they communicated differently. Lan Wangji had assumed that meant that he was probably more like Nie Mingjue but atleast Nie Mingjue could compliment Nie Huaisang to his face instead of half hearted insults.

Wei Ying said they were bonding, and they had nothing to do until Wei Ying arrived so perhaps…

“You said… You lied for him?” Wangji finally asked, wondering if it counted as an attempt at friendliness.

The laughter drained from Jiang Wanyin’s face immediately and his lip curled slightly like he wanted nothing more than to bare his teeth. If he was looking for another fight Wangji wouldn’t give in a second time, that would only hurt Wei Ying more. Yet Jiang Wanyin’s voice was soft and strained like he was forcing himself to speak and it was painful.

“Mom kicked him out after a fight with Dad. She wasn’t really mad at Wuxian but she couldn’t do anything against Dad but she knew kicking him out would hurt him. Jiejie was already living with her husband and I was off to college so she couldn’t actually do anything but yell over the phone. So when the opportunity to rub it in her face that Wuxian was the reason I was so good in classes showed up, I took it. Wanted to hurt her for hurting him.” Jiang Wanyin’s face slipped into a mask of guilt and shame, even two years out of college and the full owner of Lotus he still couldn’t believe he’d been so shitty to his mother. She’d only wanted the best for him but he wanted his family together and when one went missing he cracked the connections to the rest of them. In the end Yanli was the only one he talked to all those long years of college until the beginning of his last semester when Wuxian returned.

“Your parents cut you off?”

“Of course they did, wasn’t Mom though. She thought I was sick or just rebelling, which I was, but Dad was pissed. Still surprised he even remembered I existed once I left the house.”

“You paid for college yourself?”

“Eh? No, I got a scholarship in the first place, parents paid for my business administration degree and the school paid for my art history degree. Do you think I’d be so good at design if I couldn’t pass an art class? The extra scholarship meant I needed another year and a half of school unless I wanted to stuff it all in at the same time. Kept me out of the house long enough for that idiot to come back… Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have gone.”

Lan Wangji couldn’t stop himself from frowning as he looked at the man avoiding his gaze. He really couldn’t get a read on him, which in itself wasn’t that strange he didn’t get most people, but Jiang Wanyin had literally just told him something even Wei Ying didn’t know and Wangji still didn’t know what was going on with him.

He wanted to put Jiang Wanyin firmly in the ‘I only accept they exist when Wei Ying asks me too’ but he couldn’t help but remember the hour and a half prior when they’d been debating painting styles from the 18th century, it had been almost as much fun as speaking with Xichen over painting archetypes. Now he also knew that Jiang Wanyin hadn’t wanted Wei Ying to leave and waited for him to return to the family. As much as Wangji wanted to hate him for all the arguments between the brothers and for not fighting his mother to keep a roof over Wei Ying’s head, he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel it.

“... I..” Wangji started, mentally chanting ‘this is for Wei Ying’, “I do not hate you.”

“Oh that’s a relief.” Jiang Wanyin said sarcastically but he didn’t glare so Wangji took that as a good sign.

“Earlier… When you said no one cares about Wei Ying and I-”

“I meant the gay thing, Wuxian’s always so touchy about it like I didn’t have to share a room with him for thirteen years and hear him when he saw Nie Mingjue for the first time. I thought you were arguing about that.” Jiang Wanyin said so flippantly that Lan Wangji actually felt bad for head butting him.

“Wei Ying is not a disgrace to you or anyone else.”

“I don’t care about that. Who gives a damn about you and him?”

As Wei Ying would say: Oops.

“I see how fighting works now.” Wangji said with a nod to himself. After throwing a few punches, they were both now too tired to argue in the same way and could only listen and communicate. That made a lot of sense even if Wangji would prefer that Wei Ying never need to throw a punch ever again.

Jiang Wanyin gave him a wide eyed look before he barked out a laugh and shook his head as he stood.

“Uh Huh. Sure you do, atleast you and Zixuan will have something to bond over. Wuxian really did break his nose when we were fourteen.” Jiang Wanyin was still smiling at that and Lan Wangji realized he would never understand anyone in his husband’s family. Not really.

“... Xichen has a painting that was recently added to this museum’s collection.” Wangji said, wondering if the olive branch would be taken. They’d started arguing and debating on every painting and hadn’t even managed to get halfway through the actual museum before they’d both had the panicked realization they had started to like each other.

Jiang Cheng gave him a narrowed eye glare before he tossed the bloody napkins away and shrugged.

“Let’s go see it, who knows when Wuxian’ll show up.”

Half an hour was how long it took and Wuxian nearly screamed when he saw them.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, your face! Jiang Cheng, how could you- Chengcheng your face?!” Wuxian had gasped, holding onto Lan Wangji’s jacket and looking more horrified then the time he’d watched a documentary where the fox ate a rabbit. “You two! How could you- I cannot believe you two- Why are you both looking at me like that?”

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji shared an amused glance, keeping quiet over Wuxian’s admonishing. Jiang Cheng passed over the drink he’d been holding to Wuxian’s hands and successfully distracted him from his staring.

“Your fiancé has good taste in coffee.” Was all Jiang Cheng said, walking toward Jin Zixuan instead and leaving the dramatics for the one who signed up for it.

“Your brother has rather interesting ideas on color theory.” Lan Wangji said to Wuxian, his lips only twitching into a more fond smile at the hand waving and bewildered look on his fiancé’s face. “We have bonded.”

“You… broke each other’s faces.” Wuxian cried, holding the drink in one hand so the other could cradle Wangji’s cheek and gently stroke over the unbruised skin. “I’m so so so sorry, Lan Zhan, I didn’t realize he’d punch you or I never would have left-”

“There’s no need for apologies,” Lan Wangji said pointedly, gently reaching up to take Wuxian’s hands and press a kiss to the fingertips, “besides, I hit first. It was a misunderstanding. It has been cleared up. I believed him to be looking down on you, he believed me to be ashamed of my relationship with another man.”

“You two.. You two are never allowed to bond again. If I wanted you to punch each other I would have sent you to Huaisang’s brother’s gym to box it out.” Despite his words, Wuxian had relaxed considerably and spared a glance over his shoulder towards his brother. “So… You don’t hate him?”

“No. I do not understand him, but I know he cares about you. That’s all I need to know.” Wangji said with another kiss to his fingertips.

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard… Well other than when you confessed, and when you proposed, and when you say my name and-”

Wangji shook his head, shutting him up with a kiss that Wuxian was more than happy to reciprocate.

Jiang Cheng glanced at their disgusting affection and then the very awkward looking Jin Zixuan.

“... Go ahead.” He finally said with a suffering sigh. In seconds, Jin Zixuan was in his face, carefully checking his nose. The moment they’d found out that Yanli was pregnant Zixuan had devoted himself to all forms of emergency medical training just in case anything happened to their baby. In doing that, though, had somehow unlocked his need to use that towards anyone he considered family.

“Okay it’s not broken, and Lan Wangji… I’m sure Wuxian has that handled.” Jin Zixuan said after glancing at the couple and Jiang Cheng really couldn’t blame him.

“Why are you here anyways?”

“A-Li yelled at me to drive Wei Wuxian here.” He said pathetically, like there couldn’t be anything worse in the world than Yanli yelling at him. And he was right.

“Hmm, we should probably call her and tell her that we’re not dead. I broke my phone and Lan Wangji’s.” Jiang Cheng said, holding out his hand for Jin Zixuan’s phone. Jin Zixuan looked like he didn’t trust him but a moment later he gave in and passed it over.

“Uh… I hope you two are getting along now.” Jin Zixuan said, trying for an awkward smile. “I’m glad my family is getting along.”

“You’re not good at this.” Jiang Cheng said bluntly and Jin Zixuan shook his head rapidly.

“No I’m not. Please call A-Li, the stress isn’t good for the baby, and I mean all three of us.”

“God, I hope I die alone.” Jiang Cheng sighed as he clicked on the contact and started to herd Jin Zixuan out of the gallery before the two behind them started getting handsy.