#posted to ao3

[holy3cake]

Hello, Trouble

Chapters: 2/2

Fandom: Boarders

Rating: Explicit (only part 2)

Pairing: Rupert x Male Reader

Summary: After attending St Gilbert's on a scholarship, you start to reminisce on your time away from home. It's the Spring Ball, and Carol has just given you your final marching orders. Is it too late to admit that you have a massive crush on the dumbest boy in school? Is your deviant roommate going to even care that you're being expelled? Perhaps Rupert cares about you more than you think, but there's only one way to find out.

"Sure, Rupert was possibly the worst roommate you’d ever had, but you would miss the chase. It was thrilling, not knowing whether the arrogant Aphrodite would ruin your life or fall into a soft caress."

Chapter 1: Repression

As the ugly coach pulled up, you tried not to roll your eyes at the students milling about at your side. Most of them had leafy-green faces, matching the hideous lining of the so-called school bus. It was due to binge drinking of course, which despite your course leader constantly lecturing on the subject, was falling on deaf ears. Even though you never really liked the taste of cheap cider or stupidly expensive whisky, you always joined in. It was a ritual of sorts, and you knew better than to dob Abby in if she popped the pills out again. Of course, the distraction never worked for you. Not even as you boarded the bus and bumped into the class harlot, flicking her unsightly fair hair from her face. Florence was poison, but you’d never tell her why you hated her so much. You’d laugh, and pretend every word out of her whorish mouth was hilarious. Which is what you chose to do at that moment, chugging down a swig of your luxurious yet foul Scotch. 

“Oh, Florence! Gorgeous heels, darling.” You drawled, knowing full well that she was wearing last season Prada. She simpered, blowing an egregious kiss full of Tiffany and stark perfume back in your direction. 

“Thank you! It’s our Spring ball, have to make an effort you know?” Florence looked you up and down, as if she was sneering at your outfit choice. Possibly as she wasn’t used to seeing such bare skin in public, or she had no taste whatsoever. You knew it was the latter, when her tongue was so far down Jahiem’s throat. With a forced smile you giggled back, straightening your striped jacket. 

“I completely agree. Enjoy your night, Flo.” It was difficult to stay civil with her, but you forced down your disdain to move further along the bus. Florence wasn’t worth a minute of your time, and you didn’t want to look at her powered face any longer. You swore that she scoffed behind your back, but again, it wasn’t worth a sneeze let alone an acknowledgement. Instead you decided to locate your friends, a genuine smile spreading across your face when you discovered Toby and Abby canoodling at the back of the bus. They leapt apart at your arrival, blushing madly as though nothing had ever happened. Toby patted the space beside them, and you clinked his bottle of vodka with your own glass as you plonked down. 

“‘Sup rude boy? You got beef with Flo again?” Toby grinned, throwing his arm around his sweet girlfriend. Unlike Florence, you’d been friends with Abby for years, and you knew she wasn’t the enemy. Even if she would report back to the blonde witch, you didn’t exactly hide your feelings regarding said cow. 

“She’s playing J. You know that.” You jogged your knee, hoping Toby would be pacified with that response. 

“Nah, bro. Ain't our business, is it? You sure it’s not because she dissed your man?” Toby smirked, sensing the oncoming jab that you delivered to his ribs. 

“He’s not my man, he’s a fucked-up mummy’s boy that thinks he’s God’s gift. Just because he’s my roommate, I don’t have to give a shit about him, Tobes.” At the mention of the deviant living in your shared dorm, your anger flared. Toby seemed to have some delusional idea that you cared about him, even though you despised him more than Florence. But as you stewed, you didn’t realize Abby and Toby quietly cackling at your outrage. 

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, baby. So what if you have a thing for him? It’s not like anyone else does.” Abby shrugged, kicking her feet up. 

“How about the fact that he’d beat the shit out of me? I don’t need that drama.” You didn’t resist the urge to roll your eyes this time, gulping down throatfuls of heated alcohol to match the fury on the outside. 

Rupert Watlington-Geese was a menace to society. You’d seen the videos of him pouring champagne on homeless people before you’d even joined the school, and the real man was worse than the internet fiend. On your first meeting he’d hidden your boxers and claimed it was an initiation ritual, forcing you to go commando against itchy school trousers in the first period. Childish pranks would’ve been fine, but his behaviour had started to get rowdy from your second glance. From the rumours that the little shit had spread, you’d had more sexual experience than most B-list celebrities. You didn’t hide the fact that you were gay, but somehow you’d had a threesome with two teachers and sucked off four boys behind the bike sheds. But you knew Rupert’s game, and somehow had grown used to the inane stunts that he’d pull in an attempt for attention. 

In other instances, you would’ve grown tired and ignored him from the get go. However, if you had, you wouldn’t have seen when Rupert’s mischievous eyes grew sad, and he’d cried dismally into his pillow. You’d never tell Abby or Toby in a million years, but you knew how warm Rupert felt when he’d melted against you in a depressive episode. If his dad had promised to visit but stood him at the last minute, Rupert would always come to you for comfort. Florence was useless in those moments, she’d never understand how fragile Rupert was under all the ego and false cockiness. So perhaps you were a little more susceptible to Rupert’s fragility than you thought, but he didn’t make it easy on you. One day he’d be flashing you his trademark smirk, pretending that he enjoyed his empty existence of pranks and hurting people. On another day, he’d be breaking down in your arms and blinking back tears through those beautiful chestnut eyes. That was another thing that irritated you. Rupert was fucking gorgeous, and a combination that you’d never encountered before. He was ethereal, pale skin glowing in the darkness like some mystical creature. His hazel eyes were always looking at you, whether they were earnest or scheming. And those curls. God, you wanted to tug those magical curls until he cried. Okay, maybe you were lying a little to yourself. There was a definite attraction there, but you were 90% certain that he’d smash your face in if you told him. 

As you were daydreaming, it was as though your thoughts could summon fiction into reality. The man in question bounded up the bus steps, and Abby took the opportunity to torture you further. She sent you a cheeky smile before making her intentions clear, and you turned in horror to the spare seat beside you. 

“Rupert! Join us!” Abby’s voice perforated your ears like a megaphone, and you knew you had to move quickly. But to your dismay, the coach had filled up in record time, and you couldn’t move without leaving the bus entirely. Instead, you downed the remains of your Dalmore single malt and smiled with too much teeth as Rupert sat beside you. His outfit could’ve given you a cardiac arrest, but you remained calm. His rumpled curls were slicked back behind his ears, exposing far too much of his neck. Rupert’s black silk shirt (if you could call it that) cut down into a sharp v-shape, exposing a little bit of his chest. The scent of Lynx Africa infiltrated the bus, and you wanted to gag, or gag him. He looked like a ridiculous rich boy that had been dressed by Carol, yet your jeans grew tighter at his appearance. You wanted to strip him bare, to rip away whatever hideous designer clothes that his mum had chosen for him and pin him against the faded bus seats. The Scotch was making you reckless, and you had to relax, lest actually find out what Rupert’s tongue tasted like. 

“Hi, dickhead.” Rupert greeted you, which didn’t help in the slightest. Today he was wearing his snarkiest grin, which made you want to bite the arrogance away. But then you felt the pang of empathy, causing you to look away and grip your arm. Honestly, you knew why you were feeling such a whirlwind of emotions. Carol had delivered the final blow to your confidence earlier that day, and you had to tell Rupert the truth. 

What was the truth? That you’d lost your scholarship, of course. That’s why you were scrambling to answer a sarcastic salutation from your nemesis, because you had to tell him that you’d never see him again. You wondered if he’d even blink at your news, or if he’d just tell you it was a valiant effort and you didn’t belong there. Sure, Rupert was possibly the worst roommate you’d ever had, but you would miss the chase. It was thrilling, not knowing whether the arrogant aphrodite would ruin your life or fall into a soft caress. Yes, you had stroked his wet cheeks before. But as Abby had declared weeks ago, the Spring ball was certainly the time to tie up loose ends and live the night like it was your last. So, what was on your agenda as the bus pulled away from the school and headed to one of the rascal’s ridiculously large estates? You turned to Rupert, flicking your fringe from your eyes as you beamed at him. 

“Hello, Trouble.” You beamed, eyes sparkling as you gazed into those cat-like eyes. 

Tonight, you were going to break a preposterously ugly bed, donated by the National Trust. Or two. And a thousand year-old table, when Rupert suggested it. 

Chapter 2: Liberty (NSFW WARNING HERE)

It was hard to remember how you ended up in this situation, with Rupert’s hands down your pants and your dick ready to burst with his rough onslaught. But you definitely weren’t complaining, you just wished you had a clearer head when your tip started to throb. Rupert’s hot breath was on your neck, and with one hand kneading your balls and one expertly caressing your cock, you tried to withhold the gasps escaping your throat. It wasn’t until you gripped the rich boy’s shoulders that you halted him, cursing yourself for delaying such a strong orgasm. 

“Rupert! Wait, wait. My head is spinning.” The Scotch had been brutal on you, and you definitely didn’t want to ruin the mood by passing out or throwing up. Rupert raised one eyebrow elegantly, but obediently pulled his hands away. What you didn’t expect was for him to hold your hand, steering you to sit on the creaky bed in whichever bedroom you’d decided to argue in. He left for a moment, returning with a glass of water that he’d seemingly produced from nowhere. As you took the glass, your hands met again and you tried not to let the soft feeling linger. It was so out of character for him to be kind to you, but you drank the cool water regardless. He sat almost tentatively beside you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Beatrix wasn’t trying to hurt you, you know. She was trying to stop a fight.” Rupert suddenly announced, staring up at the four-poster bed. 

“What?” You sat up, finishing the water. 

“You called her a nosy cow. You called Florence a lot worse but…” Rupert shrugged, trying to hide the grin on his face. 

Hearing the word cow suddenly brought a drunken flashback into perspective. You’d arrived at the party in good spirits, clinging to Toby and Abby like a third arm. But the underlying tension was still gnawing at you, and you tried to dance as though nothing was wrong. You’d danced with Jahiem and Femi, which didn’t cause any problems, not until Jahiem had sought out Florence on the dancefloor. Pretending as though you were on top of the world, you’d gritted your teeth again and offered to spin Florence around. Except when she’d slipped conveniently into Jahiem’s arms, you’d called her a cheap slut that opened her doors more frequently than a lift. That was until Bea had gently tapped you on the back with gentle eyes and pure intentions, which had only aggravated you further. 

“Oh, Bea. I should find her and apologise.” But as you tried to stand, your head whirled and Rupert sniggered at your attempt to walk. 

“Might be a bit hard, considering you can’t use your feet. Sit down, you cock.” Rupert tutted at you, but there was a curious look in his eyes. 

“What?” You glared, crossing your arms. 

“You’re concerned about Beatrix, but you won’t apologise to Florence?” Rupert frowned, but you weren’t sure if he was annoyed about that. 

“No. Why should I? Because she’s your precious little girlfriend? Please.” You managed to laugh, leaning back against the ugly bed sheets. 

“Don’t take the piss. She’s not a slag.” Rupert growled, making you jump. You were unsure of his feelings before, but he seemed content to play second best to his ex-girlfriend again. There was a protective spark in his tone, and even though you should’ve yielded, you couldn’t care less. If he wanted to get back with his girlfriend whilst simultaneously wanking off another guy, it wasn’t your problem. That was his prerogative, and you had nothing left to lose anyway. With a bitter laugh, you nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. 

“I really don’t care what she is. Go and waste your time chasing after her, Rupert. I’m sick of your constant bullshit.” Finally regaining feeling in your legs, you rose from the bed and stumbled to the door, fumbling for the handle. To your surprise, the deviant was back at your side, blocking the exit. 

“I mean it! Get out of my fucking way.” You squared up to him, ready to fight. You were pretty sure that was what caused Rupert to touch your cock originally, but that wasn’t your main focus anymore. His moping and whining had set your veins alight, and there was no point at all listening to him defend his “true love”. 

“You’re sick of my bullshit?! What a joke! What about you, huh?” Rupert cornered you, and you held up your fists defensively. Whilst you weren’t sure if he’d actually hit you, you couldn’t tell his mood right now. The strutting peacock had shown his feathers, but the arrogance wasn’t the same as usual. Rupert seemed to be lashing out because he was hurt, it was written across his face in petty insolence. As you took a step back he followed you, glowering with those frighteningly beautiful eyes. 

“Hanging around the popular kids like a little stalker, hoping that someone will notice you? Do you think you’re fucking special, hm? You’re nothing.” Rupert spat insidiously, physically showering you with his spit. Even as the tiny glob landed on your cheek, you made no attempt to move. Whilst you burned on the inside, you fought the urge to bite your lip. Hearing him insult you shouldn’t have been hot, but Rupert was a different breed when he was angry. Perhaps because you’d never seen him show such genuine fury, it made you want to poke the bear. So that’s what you did. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I don’t need to be noticed. At least my mummy and daddy loved me.” You took the higher ground, watching conflict flash across startled hazel orbs. 

“How does it feel, Rupert? Knowing that your mummy prefers your brother? Laying awake at night whilst your girlfriend takes Jahiem’s cock up her-” You reeled at the taste of blood, eyes widening as you gently dabbed your lip with your thumb. Your cheek was starting to sting, and you were bewildered that Rupert had actually slapped you. Through the hurt, your cock started to stand to attention again. Fuck. You weren’t sure what was worse, the fact that you were ragingly hard, or that Rupert would see the bulge in your jeans soon enough. The slap brought back your senses, and you held both hands up. 

“Alright, enough! I don’t want to fight with you.” You thought that would be enough to soothe the enraged egomaniac, but he was still heading straight for you. You braced yourself for a punch this time, but a frosty finger rested gently against your lip instead. Rupert watched you wince slightly as he ran his nail over your open wound, eyes flickering down towards your belt. The gentle action made you tremble, goosebumps littering your arms and tugging the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Rupert stepped closer, allowing you to see the ragged rise and fall of his chest. Perhaps the panting was from anger, but you wanted to make him breathless in other ways. 

“Why not, hm? I thought you loved the chase.” Rupert outright purred, pressing you into the bedpost. You gasped, equally shocked at his accusation and the close proximity of his body. If you moved your hands, you’d feel the outline of his hips through his stupid silk shirt. This pitiful plush boy had you sussed, but you couldn't fault his observation. You did love the chase, and the prospect of leaving the school without even kissing this idiot was unthinkable. Without worrying about the consequences anymore, you gripped hideous material and kissed his imbecilic, impeccable lips. 

Whether or not he wanted to protest that he wasn’t gay, Rupert lost himself when you attacked his lips. He didn’t seem stunned at all by your advance, instead biting at the little cut on your lower lip. You groaned, meeting the aggressive swipes of his tongue with the edge of your own. God he was such a good kisser, using his hips to grind against you as your tongues played for dominance. You ran one hand up his back, snaking your fingers into his slick curls as his own digits threaded into your belt loops. A glorious moan left his lips as you wrenched his head back, gripping fistfuls of his curls as you licked down his throat. 

“No more wisecracks for me, Trouble?” You uttered softly, drawing a map of his shoulders with your tongue. Each bite and nip made him gasp, but you felt a particularly deep rasp when you reached his nipples. It was a little sad really, wondering if Florence had ever worshipped him thoroughly like this. Judging by the way he tensed and bucked against you when you pinched those gorgeous rose-pink nipples, you doubted anyone had ever explored him properly. You wanted to rectify that immediately, popping the buttons on his shirt as you reached his waist. Rupert’s hands were tangled in your floppy hair, and you were grateful for such thick locks at last. He suddenly tugged on your scalp, forcing your head upwards. 

“Will…Will you…” Rupert panted lightly, looking uncharacteristically shy. There was that slight vulnerability again, so you wanted to reassure him. Moving from your crouched position, you cupped his face and pressed your lips together again. It was a little softer, a little kinder, yet still full of heat and desperation. Rupert pawed at you, dry-humping your thigh in search of friction. 

“Will you fuck me? Make me cry…please…” Rupert rasped, hand dropping to your zipper. Your throat vibrated in response, creating a somewhat animalistic rumble. Not only did he want you to fuck him, but his warm whisper shook something deep within you. This demon would certainly be your undoing, but you welcomed Hell with open arms. To begin your descent you nodded furiously, stripping as though your clothes were offensive. 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart? How badly?” You couldn’t resist teasing him, slowly easing your hand under his boxers. If he wasn’t so flustered and breathless, you would’ve yanked his trousers and boxers down immediately. But he looked so pretty painted with pink, you decided to draw out his little gasps further. Your hand circled his ass, squeezing one cheek as he urged you closer. 

“Badly. Hard. Until I break.” Rupert groaned back to you, seemingly impatient. Taking a little pity on him you melded your lips together, intoxicated with his rich taste. How someone could taste luxurious was beyond you, but he did. You savoured his spit, panting harder when he smeared it against your mouth. At the same time your finger reached his hole, startling him into a long drawn-out gasp. The muscle was so tense, constantly puckering as you gently played with him. You couldn’t see it, but there was a little puddle forming at the front of his trousers, spreading whenever you caressed his hole. Touching it clearly wasn’t enough for either of you, and Rupert wrapped his arms around you in an effort to tempt you further. Your cock pressed painfully against his abs, begging you to devour this brat the way you wanted to. Rupert touched your weeping head, gesturing at the ancient bed with a flick of his curls. He led you to the mattress, throwing the remains of his shirt away as he detached from you for a moment. The distance seemed to physically hurt him, but his signature smirk returned when he tossed his trousers and boxers in one sweep. You swore that your dick somehow grew at the sight, but you reached optimum hardness from the moment he kissed you. You watched as he climbed onto the bed, trying to keep your jaw from dropping as he got down on all fours. 

“Are you going to just stand there and stare all day?” Rupert grinned, usual cockiness returning in time just to make you smile. 

“It is a very nice view, after all.” You smiled back, moving to join him on the bed. A light amusement had broken through the tension slightly, and you felt warm all over when you stroked down his bare back. Rupert was biting his lip, eyes bright and full of mischief when he stared back at you. You held his gaze, bringing both hands down to rest against his plump butt. Unspoken emotions stirred in the pit of your belly, but you focused on bringing Rupert pleasure instead. Massaging each round mound in your hands, you slotted yourself between his legs, running a thumb over the furled muscle again. 

“Do you have any lube, Trouble?” You asked, noticing a slight blush creep down Rupert’s back. 

“N-Not here. I wasn’t exactly prepared for this, you know!” Rupert scowled, looking a little annoyed yet disappointed. 

“It’ll have to be the old fashioned way then. But I’ll take care of you.” You leaned forward, licking the shell of Rupert’s ear. “Do you want to stop, baby?” 

“No. Please, please don’t go..” Rupert begged, the tinge of fright outweighing the irritance in his tone. Your heart thudded painfully, he sounded so small and scared at the possibility of you leaving him. Planting firm but soft kisses down his spine, you felt him relaxing at the affirmation of your touch. You spread his legs, rubbing his hole slowly until his head fell forward in exhilaration. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Rupert. Forget everything else, I’m here.” You mumbled softly, threading your free hand through his fingers. He held onto you, closing his eyes as he enjoyed anything you gave him. Your lips dipped lower, and you kissed each cheek before burying yourself between them. It felt as though your cock was screaming at you, knowing that you’d soon be fucking such a gorgeous brat. But your dick could wait, you did not care about him at the moment. No, you wanted to make Rupert cry after all, and you could scarcely wait to see him shuddering in pleasure. Your tongue darted out, and you dragged it down the base of his spine, flattening it against his entrance. Rupert was trembling slightly, and you decided not to torture him for too long. Holding onto his thighs, you lapped at his hole, dipping slightly inside whenever he whined. His cock was dripping, you could hear it between each smear of your spit. It caused you to speed up, one of your hands creeping underneath to stroke his leaking head. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever fucked you with their tongue before?” You wondered aloud, switching to sucking on his rim whilst you waited for an answer. 

“What do you think, smartass?!” Rupert retorted, covering his face with his arm. His back was arching, cock slipping further into your grip. You grinned, spitting onto his asshole as he panted. 

“Then I’m glad to be the first.” You replied, slathering all of the wetness into his opening. Even though he was glistening already, you needed to be sure that he was sticky enough to feel good. If you ended up hurting him this way, you didn’t think you could ever forgive yourself. Your tongue gravitated back inside him, pressing your thumb against the sensitive nerves on the outside. Rupert clawed the sheets and your hand, blunt nails digging against your palm. 

“Put…put your finger inside me.” He demanded, scraping his lower lip with his teeth. His curls stuck to his forehead, sweaty with desire. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much?” You withdrew your lips, still caressing his butt as he struggled to speak. 

“I will. But I don’t think I could be any wetter if I were a girl…” Rupert chuckled weakly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your palm. You definitely weren’t expecting him to say something like that, but woe betide you to refuse his wishes. One hand still firmly gripping Rupert’s, you released a breath and slid a finger inside him. It was just your finger, yet he thrust his ass back against you and seemed ecstatic. 

“Shit! Another, please!” Rupert whimpered, and it suddenly dawned on you that he’d probably had something up his ass before. Perhaps not a cock, but he’d certainly done this with his own fingers. You shared a moan with him, scissoring another finger alongside the first as he took you easily. 

“How..how are you not taking me right now? Don’t you like it, hmm?” Rupert started to tease you again, but you felt that same thrill wrack through your body at his words. You rewarded him by curling your fingers upwards, pulling them out before jamming them back in. He yelled out, reaching for his cock but failing to grab it before you pinned his hand down. 

“Rupert…you know I want you…” You whined back, thrusting faster as Rupert writhed under your touch. 

“Then don’t wait anymore. Fuck me!” Rupert shoved his ass against you, pouting at your words. It made sense that he’d be demanding in bed, but you felt the same wave of sadness wash over you from earlier. You loved Rupert’s cheeky insolence, but maybe he’d never been able to fully embrace it with Florence. You wondered if their intimacy had always been rushed, with Florence retreating to her phone afterwards. You would never ask of course, but everyone gossiped. Shaking your head slightly to the intrusive thoughts, you pulled your fingers out and allowed Rupert to rub against your cock. He was the one you wanted, not the others. 

“I’ll fuck you, you little brat. It’s hot to see you beg.” You smirked, nudging the tip of your cock over his hole, feeling every flex of his muscles. 

“You’re all talk and no-oh! Mm…mm…Oh God, yes!” Rupert was ready to retort again, but you stunted him in his arrogance by gliding your solid cockhead into his weeping hole. He sucked you in, barely giving you time to register how hot and tight he was. You even had to hold his hips back, stopping him from completely bottoming out. If he did that immediately, you’d cum in seconds. No, you wanted to go slowly, feeling every inch of his fervid walls dripping with your saliva. But you had to be careful thinking about that too, your sensitivity was soaring. 

“Rupert…oh fuck..” You lost your composure for a second, finally letting Rupert engulf the rest of your length inside him. There was a slight mound just above your cock, and grazing it left both of you breathless. Rupert didn’t seem to care about his temperament anymore, fiercely fisting his cock whenever you pushed against that tight space. Your balls were starting to tighten, but you ignored them smacking against Rupert’s ass as you started to plunge your cock inside him. His walls were contracting already, and the harsh squeeze set your body on fire. 

“Ah…Ah…no, not yet!” Rupert cursed quietly to himself, confirming your suspicions when his hand came away wet. 

“Oh baby, you came already? Aww.” You decided to make fun of him a little, but it was done in good spirit. Rupert grumbled and pulled away from you, rolling over to face you. He was gorgeous, curls completely ruined and body covered in handprints. Even though he was spent, he looked at your solid cock curiously. 

“Have me again. But I want to see you this time.” Rupert mumbled grumpily, refusing to meet your eyes. You felt your eyebrow quirk at his statement, but you absolutely wanted to be inside him again. Throwing his legs over your shoulders he beckoned you back, throwing his head back in ecstasy when you found home again. Your hands found his, pressing him down into the bed as you thrust into him for the second time. Rupert made no attempt to hide his moans, almost goading you to go faster. You obeyed, hitting his prostate repeatedly until the bed creaked with your efforts. At a particularly rough thrust you reached down, needing to feel Rupert’s lips as you pounded him. Shockingly he kissed you back, wrapping his legs around your back. Your cock was straining now, desperate for a little more but chasing the need for release. Rupert cupped your face, licking the cut on your lip as you started to clench. 

“Why…why are you afraid to cum?” He asked, teasing your top lip. 

“Because…” Why were you afraid to cum? Was it because you knew you’d never see Rupert again? Because this was the best night of your life, and you’d be leaving at the end of the week? Because Rupert would never love you back, and he’d beat you up if you dared to tell anyone? It was all too much, and you were at risk of slowing down or even stopping. But the arrogant brat kissed you, and eased your worries with unusual tenderness. 

“Let yourself go. It’s you and me, right?” Rupert paused, feeling the beginning of your orgasm. As you shuddered and tensed through it, he helped you through the nerves, keeping you inside him. 

“It’s always been you. I know I’m stupid, but I…I can’t imagine life without you. I’m sorry.” Rupert sniffled, mouthing along your neck as you filled him with your essence. It took a while for your breathing to calm, but when it did, you pulled out and crushed your arms against him. You were both shaking, but you knew without a shred of doubt that you couldn’t leave him. His caresses were so soft now, all the bravado and ego shattering in a moment to hold you close. You absorbed him into your body, warm skin lightly brushing together in harmony as you shared the moment. But you experienced a moment of clarity, and in that, you knew exactly what you needed to do. 

Fuck Carol. I’m here to stay, bitch. 

Tagging in case you'd like to read: @grinningkatz (for the pretty pics ehehe), @lancedoncrimsonwings (I thought you'd like my British quips at the end for NT haha), @lord-aldhelm (would love your opinion) and obviously my usual amazing moots if you find this go wild <3

[azriona]

Killing Clint Barton, Chapter 1

Mature (for violence), eventual Winterhawk (theoretically), Major Character Death (Clint, obviously).

Summary: Clint Barton dies. And then he dies. And then he dies. And then he… well, you get the picture.

Bucky Barnes watches. And then he watches. And then he watches. And then he… gets really fucking tired of time loops.

War is hell, not that Bucky Barnes really needs the reminder. He’s getting it anyway, all the mud and screaming, the way the sky glows brown because the smoke hangs low and reflects whatever fires are burning on the parts of the battlefield he can’t see. War is hell, and he’s in hell, because it’s one war after the other, seems like. Always another unending battle to fight; Bucky can’t remember the last time he put down his weapon with any sense of relief, like he wasn’t about to pick it right back up again. “Fuck, Barnes, there you are, shit.” Bucky barely spares the guy skidding in the mud a second glance. “Barton. Keep it down.”

Read the rest on AO3.

[anonymousonlyanonymoud]

Masterlist

Legend of Vox Machina

Series:

The Lost de Rolo: 1, 2, 3, 4, Update

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

It's Just Pretend

Chapter 1: Hear Me Out!

Summary: Lance and Keith are fresh out of college. They are already "living" the post-graduate dream. Well paying jobs in their respective fields. Solid friendships, just one thing is getting in their way. They need an apartment as soon as possible. Everywhere they look goes with another couple.

An idea given by a friend leads these two boys into a fake engagement just to score an apartment.

They find an apartment quickly, but will the engagement stay fake forever?

AO3!

Word Count: 1,733

Hey everyone, I'm back with another random fic!

I've been wanting to write this for a while and finally started a month ago <3 (Shout out to @shirokeithpidgearemybesties for motivating me to write <3333)

Enjoy~

“Oh that’s fine, thank you for getting back with us,” Lance rubbed his eyes as the person on the other end of the phone apologized once more. “Have a good night.” He ended the call, leaning his head back with a groan.

“What did they say?” Keith asked in a knowing tone.

Lance cleared his throat, raising his voice an octave to match the person on the phone. “So sorry Mister McClain, but we rented the apartment to someone else.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “we make three times the rent combined! We were more than qualified.”

“Tough market I guess.” Lance slipped his phone back into his pocket, “I’m going to get a drink. Need anything while I’m out?”

Keith shook his head, reaching for his laptop. “I’ll be looking at some more places while you’re gone.”

Lance nodded, moving to grab his keys and slip his shoes on. “You’re the best man.” He unlocked the door, “be home later.” And while a mumbled goodbye he clicked the door closed and started down the hall.

---

He slammed his glass down, grimacing around the bitter liquid. “I just don’t get it, Adam. What are we doing wrong?!”

The bartender slid him another shot, grabbing his other glass. “Sounds to me like nothing.”

Lance groaned, resting his head on the cold wood. “We are freshly graduated, both make way more than the ‘required’ renters amount. Is it because we’re young?! Do people think we’re party animals?!”

Adam shrugged as he started to polish some glasses. “Could be several things. It’s hard to say.”

“You’re no help.”

“I’m a bartender, not a real estate agent.” He placed the glass he was holding down. Grabbing a new one right after. “How much longer can you and your roommate stay in your current housing?”

“Another month max. It’s student housing, they’re going to kick us out once the semester starts.”

“Running out of time.”

Lance sighed. “It’s not like we haven’t been trying. Each one we applied to just gets taken right from under us.”

“Maybe it has to do with how you present yourselves,” Adam said with a bored expression.

Lance shook his head. “We always shower before and wear nice clothes. We make sure we look responsible and put together.”

Adam hummed. “Maybe they just want couples.”

“What?”

“Like married couples? Some studies have started to look at that.”

“They legally can’t discriminate like that.” Lance downed his other drink.

Adm shook his head. "They actually can." He stared at the other boy for a moment before sighing. "Look,” he placed the glass he was polishing down. Placing his hands on the countertop, the towel draped on his right shoulder. “I moved in with my fiance after our engagement. Our other friends did the same. So I’m not sure what your experience is but we didn’t have any place to turn us down. And neither did our friends.”

“Way to rub it in my face, I'm single.” He slid the cup to Adam. “If I ever get engaged I’ll keep that in mind.”

Adam grabbed his glass, “fake it.”

“What?”

“You and your roommate, fake it. Just for the sake of finding a place.”

Lance stared at his bartender. Slowly blinking a couple of times. “I’m sorry, did you get drunk instead? What are you saying?”

Adam sent him a small smile, “where did you get confused?”

Lance laughed. “My roommate would never be okay with that.” He stood, fishing for $20 out of his wallet. “We’ll find a place. By next week. We’ll have a place.”

---

One Week Later

“Any updates?” Adam slid two shots toward Lance and Hunk.

Hunk sent him a smile while Lance quickly downed his drink. “Two more rejections.”

Adam whistled, “New weekly record?”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Lance crossed his arms and rested them on the table. Dropping his head on them. “It's hopeless, we’re going to be homeless at this rate!”

“Take a breath man, you two will find something.” Hunk rubbed Lance’s back, trying to soothe his friend.

“Easy for you to say, you and Shay scored a place months ago,” Lance grumbled back.

“I don’t know what we did differently,” Hunk said. Sounding a bit exasperated. A conversation they had numerous times.

Lance looked at Adam who was giving him a knowing look. “Nope nope nope,” he lifted his head. Pointing his finger at the man behind the bar. “Don’t even suggest that again.”

“Suggest what?” Hunk asked.

“What does Shay have that neither you nor your roommate has?” Adam sent a smile toward Lance.

Lance mumbled out an answer.

“I’m sorry what?” Adam leaned forward slightly.

Lance sighed. “A ring.”

“Three for three,” Adam said, leaning back some while crossing his arms.

Lance sighed, “I need another drink.”

---

“No, absolutely not.” Keith crossed his arms, sending Lance a stern look.

“Come on mullet! It’s just pretending.”

Keith stared at his roommate, his face unchanged. “No.”

Lance threw his hands in the air in frustration. “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“I’m not pretending to be married to you.”

“Engaged.”

“Right…engaged. Because there is such a difference.” Keith scoffed.

“There is.”

They both fell into a stiff silence. Neither of them dared to break it. Lance chewed on his inner cheek, his hands fidgeting by his upper thighs. Keith stared at the floor, his feet hanging off his bed. Lance sighed, “Keith, buddy, my man. It could work, we can just try it-”

“No,” Keith slid off his bed. He moved to slip on his shoes. “Don’t bring that idiotic idea up again.” He left the room with a slam.

Lance sat on his bed and mumbled under his breath. “We’re never going to find a place.”

---

One Week Later

Keith stormed into the room, curses being sputtered quietly. Lance sat up, lifting his headphone off his right ear. “Yo, what got you pissed off?”

The other boy fished his phone from his pocket. Shoving it in Lance’s face. A rejection email meeting his blue eyes. Lance groaned. “We’re running out of options.”

Keith took his phone away and paced the room. His hands found a home in his hair. “We only have two weeks left, what are we going to do?!”

“Well-”

He stopped and pivoted towards Lance. “No.”

Lance raised his hands in the air, “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You were thinking about it.”

"Keith,” Lance stood from where he was laying. “What do we have to lose?”

“My pride,” he mumbled as he flopped on his bed. Sighing as he stared at the ceiling.

“You lost that long ago.”

Kieth scoffed. “When?”

Lance raised his eyebrows at him as if the answer was obvious. “Ah-hem. One word, six letters.”

“Stop-”

“M U L-”

“STOP!”

“L E T. MULLET-” Lance sat up from his bed, Keith following suit.

“I don’t have a mullet,” Keith ran his fingers through his hair. Yanking at the long locks, a groan of annoyance escaped his lips.

“Sure buddy,” Lance sent him a tense smile.

Keith dropped his hands, “how would it even work? Pretending to be…together.”

Lance giggled. “You don’t have to sound so scared of the idea.”

“I don’t like intimacy.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest. Trying to keep his posture stoic.

“Keith my man. My buddy,” Lance stood and took a couple of steps to his roommate's bed. Sitting down next to him, casually throwing his arm over his shoulder. He pulled him closer so his head was almost forced to rest on Lance’s shoulder. “It’s not real. That’s why it’s ‘fake.’ All we have to do is say we’re engaged, and make up some ‘this is where we met’ story. Which, we can say we met at in college-”

“We did,” Keith mumbled.

“See! One step is already done. You’re so smart.” Lance squeezed him tighter, raising his voice into a mushy tone.

“Lance!”

He laughed and loosened his hold. “We can use our actual friendships as the timeline for our relationship. Maybe get a fake ring for one of us and let me do the talking. No kissing, at least on the lips, and holding hands and hugs are the max we will do around others. It’s not torture, it’s just pretend.”

Keith didn’t reply, his breathing low and evening. He was mulling it over. Weighing the pros and cons as if his life depended on it.

“Take the night and consider it? I’m meeting Hunk for dinner.” Lance made his way to the door, grabbing his signature green jacket as he slipped his shoes on. “Later, Mullet.” He twisted the handle, reaching for his keys as he opened the door.

“We can try it.”

“Hm?” Lance froze, his eyes falling on Keith.

Keith sighed, his eyes burning the ground. “We can try it. But only for a week.”

Lance grinned. “See you later then…. Babe.” He closed the door, not missing Keith’s groan of regret.

---

“All of the appliances are brand new, top of the line. It comes with both a washer and a dryer. All utilities are included in the rent. Any pets are an additional $25 a month each and each apartment comes with two numbered parking spots. Any additional vehicles just need to park in the uncovered lot.” The girl, Nyma, stopped in the kitchen. Placing her binder on the white marble countertop.

“This is really…wow this is gorgeous.” Lance walked through the living room once more, leaving Keith in the kitchen. “Babe, what do you think about it?” He glanced toward Keith who was staring out one of the windows. “Baby?”

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance, and a small blush formed on his face before he cleared his throat. “It’s perfect.”

Nyma looked between them, her eyes gleaming. “Are you two interested?”

Lance nodded excitedly as he made his way over to his friend. “My fiance and I have been looking for a place for months but none of them have come close to this.” He intertwined their hands together, his thumb unconsciously rubbing along the backside of Keith’s hand. Unaware of the tension Keith held in his body over the touch.

“How long have you two been together?”

Keith froze, but Lance took charge. “Four years together, but one year engaged.” He sent Keith a smile who nodded.

Nyma grinned, moving to open her binder. “Let me talk you through the application.”

They were approved that night.

-----

I'm aiming for a biweekly update, but I do work full time so I write when I have energy <3

I hope you liked it

Thank you for reading <33333

[izzythedemigod]

I just found the funniest font ever

Like. What is this. Why is this. Who is the target audience of this?

[give-grian-rights]

gun to my head i would rather die than read this fic. what the fuck are you even doing at this point. whats the fucking point?

[flamboyantly-understated]

maybe this is just me idk

[waywardsou2]

Some idiot: "Why are you reading your own fic, that's shallow and stupid"

All fanfic writers and writers everywhere: "Who the fuck do you think I wrote it for?!"

[moonchild311]

"people who stay up at night are either insomniac or In love" people who stay up at night read gay fanfiction on AO3 what are you on about?

[queer-here-and-in-fear]

BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!

but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?

genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.

LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.

[milkcryptid]

do people have no shame anymore?

[azriona]

Killing Clint Barton, Chapter 2

Mature (for violence), eventual Winterhawk (theoretically), Major Character Death (Clint, obviously).

Summary: Clint Barton dies. And then he dies. And then he dies. And then he… well, you get the picture.

Bucky Barnes watches. And then he watches. And then he watches. And then he… gets really fucking tired of time loops.

“Hey, you guys going for lunch?” asks the man on the table. He speaks like it doesn’t hurt, even though Bucky can hear the pain in his voice. “I could really use a pizza, any chance of a pizza?” “A pizza, Mr. Barton?” says the little man, and then laughs, like it’s the best joke. “A pizza!” The door slams, and the guy—Barton, Bucky supposes—groans. “Had to ask, anyway.” Bucky closes his eyes. If they’re waiting for the solution to work, then he’s got at least half an hour before they return. “Barnes. Barnes. Come on, man, I know that’s you.” Bucky rolls his head to look at the guy. “Do I know you?”

Read the rest on AO3.

[bewilclerment]

when the fic is so good you need to exit out of the browser app and scroll on tumblr for a few minutes to process what you’re reading

[paintedcrows]

Whenever Bill sees KingOfNJ's fics through Stan's eyes he just thinks they have the same taste in fanfiction (disgusting. unthinkable) continued

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

It's Just Pretend

Chapter 7: Queen Size Bed

AO3!

Chapter 6

First Chapter!

Word Count: 1,885

Hi everyone :)

Sorry for falling off the face of the earth for a bit but thank you for your support and patience <3

I feel like this fic is getting away from me and the plan is crumbling. I'm going to try to have a better grasp on it in the next couple of chapters <3

“You two are still at it?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow. His hand paused on the glass he was drying. 

Lance hid his face in his hands, wishing he was a couple of shots drunker to have this conversation. “Yes,” he said with a groan. 

Adam resumed his cleaning, “it’s been six months.”

“I know, I know!” Lance ran his hands through his hair, grabbing his drink and downing it. 

“How does this even happen? You pretend to be engaged, sign the lease and that’s that.” Adam reached for another glass, his eyebrows furrowed. 

Lance groaned, pressing his forehead into the cool counter of the bar. “Look, my roommate is difficult to navigate. And our neighbors, don’t even get me started. We’re like the,” he paused. Lifting his head, “It’s like they adopted us as their kids or something.” 

“Right.” 

“I’m serious Adam!” 

Adam peered at his friend from the top of his glasses. “How does your roomie feel about this?” 

Lance shrugged, “I have no idea. We just don’t…talk about it?” 

Adam moved on to another glass, clearly regretting his life choices up until this point. “Maybe you two should discuss it over dinner.” 

“Ugh, that makes it sound romantic.” Lance stood up from the stool, his finger pointed at his bartender. 

“You two basically are at this rate!”

“Shush it!” Lance dropped back into his seat, “don’t talk so loud. You’re going to ruin my chances with someone else.” 

Adam scoffed, “Having a fake fiance everyone knows about is ruining it already.” 

Lance groaned, “I want to close my tab.” 

—

He sighed as he unlocked his front door, swaying a bit due to the alcohol. He loathed to admit it, but Adam was right. This whole arrangement was only supposed to be a week or two max. Not a half a year. He made his way into his bedroom, changing into his pajamas in a numb state. 

He knew they weren’t a couple. But as the weeks turned into months, both Keith and him had become comfortable together. They fell into more of a domestic routine. They were watching a show together once a week. Which usually resulted in one of them holding the other. 

Lance hated how much he enjoyed it. No, he didn’t hate Keith but his needs were being met. The desire to “find someone new” wasn’t as strong anymore. In simple terms, Lance was fucked. 

He flopped down on his bed. Forcing his eyes open every time they closed. Reflecting on the day Lance suggested having a fake relationship made Lance upset. Upset at himself. He liked Keith. He had for awhile but he actually thought he got over it. Which is why he suggested it. 

But being close to Keith, and having their friendship deepen even more since all of this was just too much. Lance was tired of pretending he didn’t like Keith. Every time their hands brushed together or they kissed each other on the cheek for someone else's benefit, Lance’s heart didn’t lurch. Begging for more. Just one more kiss. One more hug. Just one more. 

He closed his eyes. Six more months and then he could move out. Six more months until separation. 

—

The Next Day

Lance dried his hands on a towel as he made his way to the front door. Silently cursing whoever was ruining his quiet morning. “Hello?” He said with a smile as he opened the door. 

A taller man with a prosthetic arm and a scar across his nose smiled at him, “Lance.” He pulled the shorter boy into a hug, ignoring his protest. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Lance asked as the air was squeezed out of him. 

The older man let go of him, stepping around him to enter the apartment. “Name’s Shiro.” He stopped in the entranceway. “Where’s Keith?” 

Lance opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to understand what was going on. 

Shiro shrugged, “I’ll find him.” He began to walk towards the bedrooms, whistling a tune to himself. “Y’know, six months and he never invited me over to come see the place.” 

Lance forced his legs to move, “how do you know Keith?” 

Shiro opened a door, closing it when he realized it was a small closet. “He’s my brother.” Another door. “Oh Keithhhhh,” he sang out in a high-pitched voice. 

Lance paused as he watched Shiro reach Kieth’s door. “You’re Takashi?!” Keith had mentioned his brother a couple of times. By brother, they weren’t related by blood. Just childhood friends, but close enough they simply referred to themselves as brothers. 

Shiro smiled at him, his hand on the door, “The one and only.” He pushed Keith’s bedroom door open, “GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE!”

The door closed and Lance forced himself to breathe. What the hell just happened? He stayed in that spot for over a minute before his legs carried him into the kitchen. Resuming his breakfast and coffee-making tasks. 

Shiro entered the room after some time, a wide grin on his face. 

Lance stared at him before gesturing to the coffee pot, “Help yourself if you want.” 

“Don’t be civil towards our intruder.” Keith stomped into the kitchen, running his finger through his hair. 

Shiro gasped as he made his way to the coffee pot, “Lance let me in.” 

Keith met Lance’s eyes and quickly rolled his. Seeming used to his brother's behaviors. Nobody spoke as Shrio made his coffee, still whistling the same tune under his breath. “So Lance, I already told Keith, but it’s time to tell you.” 

“Um…okay?” 

Shiro grinned even wider. “We’re going on a vacation.” 

Lance learned two things that day. 

Once Shiro plans a vacation, there is nothing you can do to get out of it

“We” was a lot more than just Shiro 

“How many people are coming?” Keith asked for the tenth time, resting his head on the window of the car. 

“Just two extra on our end.” Shiro started for the tenth time. Keith could tell the smile he always wore was cracking over the repeating questions. 

“Oh cheer up nuddy, it’ll be fun!” A large hand grasped Keith’s shoulder from the driver's seat. Keith’s new friend, courteous of Lance, Hunk grinning at the road. 

Keith ended the call before his brother could speak again and ran his hand down his face. He looked in the mirror, Lance’s face pushed against the glass of his window. His eyemask and headphones were slipping off due to the angle and his mouth was hung open slightly. Keith smiled to himself, was it ever possible for Lance to not look good? 

“Oh my gosh, an apple farm?! Teddy bear I want to go!” Shay nearly squealed from the back seat. 

Hunk looked at his fiance from the rearview window, “On our way home honey.” He gave Keith a quick ‘sorry’ look as Shay scooched up to hug him. 

Keith didn’t mind and his eyes drifted back to Lance, wondering how he slept through all of that. 

—

“Okay, we’re here!” Hunk announced as he put the car in park. Reaching back to shake Lance’s knee to wake him up. “Make sure you introduce me to your brother so I can thank him for us being able to tag along,” Hunk whispered to Keith as they both opened their doors. 

Keith nodded and stepped out of the car, stretching his legs and back as soon as he could. The front door to the cabin opened and Shiro began to jog towards the four new guests. “Keith! So happy you guys made it.” He allowed his brother to pull him in for a hug before he redirected the conversation to Hunk. “This is Hunk, he wanted to meet you.” 

Keith made his way to the back of the car as Shiro shook Hunk and Shay’s hand. Lance finally stepped out of the car, running his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe we’re already here.” 

“You slept for four hours,” Keith stated bluntly. 

“Really?” Lance began to stretch his back, “didn’t feel like it.” 

Keith forced his eyes down as Lance’s shift began to rid up some as he stretched. He could admit that Lance was attractive and he loved his presence and craved their alone time, but that didn’t mean he needed to ogle his friend. 

He looked up as the front door to the cabin opened again, sending a small wave. “Hey, Adam.” 

Adam waved back, “Keith, it’s been a while.” 

“ADAM?!” Everyone's eyes fell on Lance, who was standing there like a fish out of water. 

Adma smiled, “Lance, good to see you as well.” 

Lance sputtered for a moment, looking at Keith and then back at Adam. “ADAM?!” 

“Lance, are you okay?” Keith asked, moving so he was next to Lance. Mentally preparing himself for if Lance fainted. 

“ADAM!” He pointed at the other dude in disbelief, who was sitting on some warm liquid in a mug. A smirk hiding behind the ceramic. 

“Uh, buddy, you okay?” Hunk asked from the other side of the car. 

Lance met Hunk’s eyes, sending him a look of disbelief. “Am I okay? That’s Adam, our bartender! The one we’ve been talking about this fake arrangement with. The one that knows all my secrets.”  

Hunk looked at Adam, who waved at him, before making a “huh” sound. “Small world.” 

Lance groaned and shifted his attention to Keith, “You didn’t tell me you knew Adam.” 

“How was I supposed to know he was your bartender?”

“I told you are bartender was named Adam!” 

“There could be like thousands of bartenders named Adam! How was I supposed to know that Shiro’s partner was your bartender?!” 

Keith and Lance continued their back and forth until the cars were empty and everyone went inside to claim their rooms for the next week. 

—

“They do know we aren’t together right?” Keith sighed as he put his bag down on the only queen-sized bed in the bedroom. 

“Shiro did say only one room had two beds and Matt and Pidge got that room. Besides,” Lance sat on the edge of the bed. “We shared a bed back on that work trip.” 

Keith gave a stern nod and made his way back downstairs. Hoping to catch a moment of quiet before the chaos of “vacation Shiro” kicked in. 

Things had shifted after that work vacation. A subtle shift that Keith assumed Lance wasn’t even aware of. Keith trusted Lance after that. He always trusted Lance but now he really trusted him. Lance had always supported him through nightmares of losing his dad. But sharing the same bed? That did something to Keith. Broke a wall he didn’t even know he still had up. 

And of course, he found Lance attractive, but they were just friends. And sure, Keith liked the company that Lance provided and the security. And sure, sometimes Keith wanted to run his hands through Lance’s hair while discussing his day. And cure, Keith would stare at him a bit too long when he wasn't looking, or make sure he was still breathing when he woke up to a nightmare and needed to pace. But they were just friends. 

Just friends.

He repeated to himself until he was lying next to Lance, willing himself to fall asleep. 

-----

One has accepted and one is in denial…

Thank you for reading <33333

[slighlyconfused]

Posting on AO3 is like, I'm doing this for myself, but also immediately refreshing the page every 5 seconds to see if you get any hits comments or kudos. But totally only writing for me.