#red hot chili peppers fic

[rehenys]

Carlos Sainz Masterlist

Summering with Carlos : Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 (Fin)

[granddelusions]

SUMMERBOY (JOHN FRUSCIANTE)

summary: you and john spend the night together before he goes away on tour again

warnings: smut (porn with very little plot) 18+

your boyfriend had the entire summer off from touring.

the summer in question was spent traveling around to little beach towns, fucking in hotel pools after hours, and lying on the beach, hands intertwined watching the tides turn with electric ladyland playing on the stereo. you couldn’t ask for anything more, besides another month spent only with your love.

however, tonight was the last night of your little vacation. tomorrow evening, john was going back on tour for a month, in another country no less.

you and john decided after going out to a nice dinner to go right home, upon john seeing how short your sundress was. he assumed your choice of attire was purposeful — he was correct. the 10 minute car ride back to your house felt like a half hour. by the time he pulled you through the door, he had you against the wall, teasing his fingers along your wet pussy, entirely ready for him and eager for wherever the night would lead.

it was so, so fucking hot —- it really was the middle of a blazing california heatwave, the worst one in years— and you begged for sweet release, beads of sweat glistening on your face while john pressed kisses along your neck, softly repeating your name like a prayer.

john eventually worked his kisses down to your stomach and inevitably your panties, ripping the white lace and flicking his tongue over your clit, making you scream. his tongue became more forceful, and the insertion of his fingers into your cunt had you turned into a crying mess already.

“so wet, baby. i’ll take care of you.” he said, murmuring against your slick cunt.

the build-up in your stomach became even more intense and strong; you knew you were cumming from just his fingers and his tongue soon enough if he kept talking like that.

“all yours, johnny. fuck.”

“you’re doing so well, baby, just let go.” he groaned.

and you did, crying and screaming and moaning his name so loud you had a feeling the neighbors may bitch you out tomorrow morning.

he pulled away from your pussy to take a look at you, practically fucked out already, mascara runny and hair a mess.

“cmon baby, i wanna fuck you just right before i go away again.”

he carried you to the bed and removed your sundress, letting your breasts go free and brushing his fingers along your hardened nipples, making his cock twitch in his pants.

he unzipped his pants, letting his cock — dripping with pre-cum — out of his boxers. he kissed your breasts and swirled his tongue around your nipples, leaving bruises and marks that you’ll fantasize about and long for once he leaves you again.

once you positioned yourselves and john stroked himself a few times, he slowly began to press his cock inside of you, leaning down to kiss you on your lips, his fingers still wet with your juices now caressing your cheeks.

you whimpered.

“you alright, sweet girl?” he asked you gently, a hint of concern on his face as his eyes made their way to the bulge forming in your stomach. he always adored seeing you filled with his cock.

“‘mmm okay, johnny. just fuck me, please.” was all you could muster out in your state of bliss, grabbing a hold of his long dark hair, now drenched in sweat.

“gonna miss this, honey.” he murmured, his cock starting to pick up the pace and thrust harder into you.

you moaned against his hair.

“johnny, don’t go, please please please don’t go.”

he noticed your pout, which regretfully only made him arch his back and bury his cock deeper into your cunt, making you squeal, tears now streaming down your face.

“i’m sorry baby, i love you so much, it’ll only be for a few months — look at me.”

he grabbed your jaw, his eyes piercing into you.

“okay?”

“okay, johnny.”

“now cum for me, baby, alright? be a good girl, honey.”

his thrusts became rougher and quicker, his fingers entangled in your hair.

“you want me to fill you up, sweetheart?” he groaned, his own orgasm imminent.

at this point, you could only nod in agreement, your need to unravel leaving you completely dumbstruck.

you came all over his cock in a sobbing mess.

you laid back on the pillows — your beach curls completely ruined — as john unloaded inside of you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and all over your thighs.

after he softened and pulled out of your dripping cunt, john leaned over to the side of the bed to grab a towel, cleaning you up and lazily pressing kisses along your stomach, making the both of you laugh.

“i’m so proud of you, baby. you did so well.” he praised.

he took you in his arms, still naked and drenched in sweat. any negative thought about john’s leaving you was completely diminished by his hazel eyes completely immersed by your nude body.

“these were the best few weeks of my life, sweetheart. i mean it. i hate to leave my favorite girl again.” he smiled, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips again, softer this time around.

you relaxed against him, laying your head against his chest.

“promise you won’t forget me while you’re on tour and all those girls are flashing their tits at you?” you said, your lips still tingling.

he pressed a kiss on your bare shoulder.

“not a fucking chance. i’ll be thinking about this every night.” he whispered against you, his one hand reaching for your cheek and the other grabbing your hip, just slightly grazing your ass. you could finally smile, totally relaxed.

you both still had the summer, after all.

[rimunagenius]

I Could Die For you

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 1.2k

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

Something inside the cards I know is right

Don't wanna live somebody else's life

Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.

With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.

This is what I want to be

And this is what I give to you because I get it free

"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 

You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 

"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 

You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 

That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 

She smiles while I do my time

It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 

You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 

Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 

I could die for you

It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 

"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 

"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 

"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 

"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.

"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 

"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 

"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 

"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 

Oh, this life I choose.

You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 

[murdrdocs]

rocketeer | a. warlock

description. a peek into your budding relationship with adam warlock, soundtracked by the music that follows you through your life

includes. straight fluff that's it, some references to tunes

a/n: playing around with adam as a character .. reader implied to be from earth, also this was a blurb but its long enough to be a mini fic so ,,, that's what it is now. also title is a reference to rocket tehe

word count: 1.2k+

mild gotg3 spoilers!!!

you meet him when rocket's 2000s playlist is playing.

there a general joy spread all across knowhere, each and every being there filled with the adrenaline of the guardians surviving, and saving others along the way, once again. everyone's doing something; dancing, crying, rejoicing, picking up pieces. everyone except him.

he sits on a set of stairs that you know has been coated with bile too many times. he's alone, wrapped in an insulated blanket, and staring at everyone with a sense of longing. your rhythmic steps falter, as does your smile, and your head tilts.

your friend asks what's wrong, you point him out, and his mind is lightyears away because he doesn't notice the obvious gawking from three sets (the extra set your friend has will always be a little off putting for you) of curious eyes. he doesn't notice anything until you're standing above him.

"hi," your wave is just a flare of your hand, small, gentle, as is your smile. his eyes snap up to look at you, wide and yellow and intriguing. it takes him a second but he speaks, although it's quiet and a little hard to hear over florence and the machine.

"salutations."

the formality of it makes your smile widen. "d'you mind if i sit?" you point to the empty space next to him, his gaze following your gesture, and then he's looking back at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"why?"

you shrug, suddenly feeling a little silly, but you suck the feeling down with a large gulp of air. "just cause you seemed a little lonely. loneliness isn't really a thing here on knowhere."

his yellow eyes seem to light up at that. "really?"

not exactly, but you still nod. "really."

he scoots over a smidge to make room for you, even though there's more than enough, and you sit beside him, choosing to ignore the lingering stench of alcohol-induced barf. it's silent for a second, dog days are over ends and seven nation army begins, and then he speaks again.

"i'm adam."

you introduce yourself, starting to notice the way his foot taps along to the bass line. you nod towards the small movement. "you like this sort of music?"

when he shrugs, you can feel the blanket move against your arm and you hadn't realized you two were sitting that close beforehand.

"i don't really know much about music."

"yeah, that'll change here on knowhere, too."

you get closer while rocket is in a 90s kick. there's destiny's child, red hot chili peppers, loads of nirvana, and blur to soundtrack the timidity in the beginning. small "hello"s shared in passing, glances that turn into staring whenever the other isn't looking. talks about meaningless things that are happening on knowhere, just as an excuse to talk to each other at all.

your relationship (lack thereof) with adam feels reminiscent on those movies you would watch back home, telling stories of a boy next door and a girl next door and a painfully slow romance filled with moments that you used to wish would just lead into the big thing.

before he leaves, quill gives you a final word of advice. "stop dancing around it. go for it."

you follow his eye line to adam, who's holding a very confusing looking conversation with one of the kids, and then you look at quill, who's staring down at you like an older, slightly wiser, brother.

"okay?"

"yeah. okay."

he opens up when his favorites are playing. you're teasing him, asking if he finally has artists, genres, songs, anything that he likes. he smiles brightly, like he's been waiting to share this information, and nods eagerly.

"let me show you." the ipod he'd acquired is thrust into your hands and then one end of the flimsy earphones after it. you slip the bud in, listening to the clicks of adam searching for what he wants to show you, and the it starts.

you vaguely recognize it as something that quill passed down to rocket, who tried to pass it down to you, but you don't know it well enough to predict the lyrics before they happen.

the other headphone is placed in one of adam's ears, and he hums to the song. you feel his gaze on yours, waiting for your reaction, and you look to him and smile.

"yeah?" he asks, clearly wanting to know what you thought about it.

"yeah. it's good!"

"right!" and he continues to hum along to the song, clearly wanting to sing it at the top of his lungs and dance around to the beat. the image of what that would look like, of how he would ask you to join in, takes over your mind and adam's voice breaks you from your thought.

"i have just one question though."

"hm?"

"what's disney world?"

and now it's time for your eyes to widen and for you to gasp. you launch into descriptions of 'the happiest place on earth', having to will yourself from telling the entire backstory of the creator and the mystery that exists from his extremely known life. adam seems confused, interested, and like he longs for something like that.

"d'you think we could visit disney world one day?" the odds aren't the best, but you shrug, nod, let the corner of your mouth turn down just a little.

"yeah, maybe."

another solo song by adrian belew starts and then adam tells you about his home, and the sovereign, and his mother. you listen, lowering the volume so you can hear him clearly, and you're there for when tears start to glide down his face.

things change whenever 80s pop is playing.

kraglin had taken over rocket's ipod for the day, resulting in almost every hit from the 80s to play during the entire day.

you'd sung along to most songs, wishing you'd seen adam to tell him about each artist that played. but he'd been gone, not seen by anyone, and you assumed that he'd gone on a mission or something of the sort.

it's late, you're snuggled in bed, the music outside has come to an end but you have your own headphones in to continue listening. wham! plays when there's a knock on your door and you pull down the headphones, lowering george's singing, to open it.

adam stands on the other side, dressed as casual as you've seen him, and his hair sticking up in different places as if he's been messing with it for a while. he looks distressed, and distracted, until you say his name.

"adam? what's wrong?"

and then his large hands are delicately holding your cheeks and his lips are pressed to yours. he freezes with the initial contact, most likely due to a mix of inexperience and shock, but then you start to slowly move your lips against his and he takes the hint to follow your lead. your hands pull at his shirt, urging him to come into your room, and he does as told, kicking the door closed behind him with his foot, giving you a surface that doesn't imply too much to push your back against.

that night, the entire first two albums from wham! play from your headphones while adam kisses you, leaving you to giddily listen to last christmas when you bid him goodbye, his lips a little swollen and a darker hue to his golden cheeks.

[strang3lov3]

Invisible Line

Summary- Boundary after boundary is crossed when your boss is left with no choice but to share his bed with you.

Roman Roy x F!Reader | 5.8k words

Tags- one bed trope mothafuckas!! mutual masturbation, unprotected piv, cream pie, oral (f receiving), come eating, dirty talk, soft dom!roman, power imbalance, needy and desperate reader, light degradation, manipulative Roman, Roman’s not the nicest but he does let you snuggle him

A/N- This is my first Roman Roy fic, so please be gentle 🫣 I know he’s got his issues with sex, so just play pretend with me. My usual Joel readers, I haven’t forgotten about you, he’s cumming soon 🫡🍆 but if you were feeling so inclined I’d appreciate it if you gave Roman a chance 🥺🩷

I had a fucking team of editors for this fic!! Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal, @papipascalispunk, @beefrobeefcal and @pinkypromisepascal for polishing this baby up

Fic notifs, Masterlist, Ko-Fi

You’ll never get used to the type of hotels you now stay in. All the lights glittering, floors shining, ceilings so high. You’d call it luxurious, but to your boss, Roman, this is considered modest. You’re always reminded that you and he come from two very different worlds.

As his assistant, you’re accompanying him on his “bullshit amusement park safety meeting in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere,” as Roman had so graciously put it. He’s got such a way with words. He’s exaggerating of course, always so hyperbolic. You’re not in the middle of nowhere, you’re in Nashville, Tennessee. It’s early June and the air is finally beginning to cool for the evening.

“We’re fully booked,” the receptionist says to you after first explaining that no, there’s no mix up of sorts, you had only booked one room and not two adjoining rooms like you’d thought. 

Just fifteen minutes earlier, you helped Roman with his bags and such up to his room. Roman carried the heaviest of his own bags to be a gentleman, call it his soft spot for you or whatever, but just to be a dick, still had you carry his briefcase that he was more than capable of carrying on his own. It is your job, after all. 

When you arrived with him to the spacious room, decorated with abstract wall art and odd sculptures, Roman wasted no time in flopping on the single king sized bed. After seeing no door to connect to an adjoining room, Roman sent you back to reception. “Well, better figure it out,” he said, waving you away, his eyes never once looking away from his phone screen. “I’m set here, so thanks. You can go fuck off. Have a nice evening and all that. Enjoy masturbating in your crispy white bed sheets, courtesy of Hyatt hospitality.” Always so vulgar. You’re not shocked by it anymore. 

“Nothing?” you ask the receptionist. “There’s no way. I just need a single queen, I don’t care what floor it’s on. Isn’t there something?”

“Bonnaroo,” the receptionist explains, once more typing on her keyboard to double check and see if there’s a room for you. “Yeah, I’m sorry, we don’t have any other rooms available. Bonnaroo weekend is always when we’re busiest. People book months in advance. I wish I could help you,” she frowns apologetically. 

You’re not upset. It’s your own fault. And you’d seen Bonnaroo posters around the lobby advertising the shuttle that transports people from the hotel to the festival. And you’d seen the headliners, too. Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, LCD Soundsystem. Friday and Saturday tickets are sold out. You’re not surprised it’s all booked.

“No, I know,” you reply. “It’s my fault.”

You sigh deeply, and the receptionist types into her computer, prints a piece of paper and hands it to you. “This is a list of hotels nearby. Call around, they might have something.” She wishes you good luck, and you pull out your phone to begin making the calls, only then realizing your battery is at 2%. Now you have nowhere to go but back to Roman’s room.

–

You knock on Roman’s door and wait. Nothing. You knock once more, nothing again. You’re about to knock for a third time when Roman finally opens, his shirt a few buttons undone and his belt loosened. “What do you want?”

“Can you let me in?” you ask, “I need to use your phone, please.”

Roman’s taken some getting used to. You never quite know where you stand with him, what exactly he thinks of you. Moment to moment, you never know which Roman you’re gonna get – the flirting Roman, the occasional sweet and tender Roman, or the cold, sarcastic, uncaring and taunting Roman.

 “Can you let me in?” Roman mocks, opening his door wider and guiding you into his room with his hand on your lower back. Taunting Roman. His touch makes your tummy flutter. Something about his unpredictability thrills you, excites you. You’re attracted to it, and you don’t know why. 

Your phone charges by a nearby outlet as you sit at the desk with the room phone as Roman paces around, rifling through his suitcase to find his pajamas. They’re simple looking clothes, pale blue bottoms and a plain white shirt, but you know the cost of the outfit is equivalent to someone’s rent. He changes in front of you, something he’s always done. You’re not exactly sure why he does that or what he’s trying to do, but you do your best to not steal any glimpses of him as you begin calling the numbers on the paper, though the task proves to be difficult. Flirting Roman?

The first hotel on your list is The Hermitage, which is a bust. The Joseph is also a bust. Conrad Nashville, same deal. You’re keeping your voice as low as possible, hoping Roman doesn’t overhear your conversation. The last thing you want to do is give him more ammo. You sigh as you cross out the names on the paper one by one with one of the hotel’s branded pens.

Roman’s on the bed, smirking, rolling his eyes. You can see it in your peripherals. “You fucked up, didn’t you? Forgot to book yourself a room?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, now calling the fourth and final hotel on your list. 

“You shut up,” Roman says. “Told you to double check.”

You wave a hand in his direction to quiet him. After asking your now three times rehearsed ‘Do you have any rooms available?’ and being met with an apology and a no, you reply to the person on the other end of the call with a “Yup, Bonnaroo, understood. Thank you.” Sighing, you hang up the phone and bury your face in your palms. You know what your only option is here, and you’re scared to look at it, to look at Roman. You know that even if you don’t verbally ask, your eyes will say it all. 

  Roman slides off the bed and makes his way to you, then nudges your foot with his own. “Am I doing you a favor tonight?” 

“I uh…”

“Oh, of course I am. Good thing I’m feeling generous, huh?” Roman’s lips are curled into an almost-sweet smile when you finally look at him. “Bed is mine,” he enunciates. “You can take the floor, I don’t care. Or push those chairs together or some shit.” You look at the chairs he’s referring to and nod. Roman goes back to his bed, and you pull your own set of pajamas from your suitcase, then change in the bathroom. Once out of the bathroom, you push together the chairs that Roman was referring to.

“Oh god, I didn’t think you’d actually do that. No, no, I was just joking – we’ll share the fucking bed. Yeah?” Roman pats the other side of the bed. “I’m not cruel like that, Christ. Making me feel like some fuckin’ sort of - sort of sadist. Not gonna bite you.”

“Won’t you?” you tease. 

That was the wrong thing to say. Your blood goes cold as Roman glares at you, displeased with your teasing. Reminding you of your place, that even though Roman can joke, make however many unsavory comments as he’d like, you can’t always do the same. Cold Roman. But then Roman cracks a smile, flashing his pretty white teeth and winks, his eyes sparkling. The boss-employee dynamic between you and him is always inconsistent, things going from professional to unprofessional, from friendly to friendlier.

He pulls the covers down the bed, once more patting the space next to him, indicating his invitation for you to join him. You round the bed and slide under the covers, the sheets feeling cool against your bare feet and legs. “You’ve got ulterior motives, don’t you? You fucked up the booking on purpose.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed. “No, Roman.”

“You totally did,” Roman says as you adjust the pillows behind you, “You’re trying to entrap me. You’ve weaseled your way into my bed so you can sue me later for harassment or some shit but I’m telling you, it’s not gonna happen. Trust me when I say that it’s in your best interest to behave yourself.” Roman drags his finger down the center of the bed, bisecting it evenly. “Don’t cross this line. Not even your fuckin’…pinky finger. Got it?”

“Understood, Mr. Roy.”

“Attagirl,” he chirps. “Wait, ew. Jesus Christ, Roman, you call me Roman. Not that Mr. Roy shit. God, that’s gross.”

You’ll take any chance you can to get under his skin after all he does to you. Flipping over on your side, you face the window and watch the city lights dance before pulling out your phone and silently scrolling through Instagram. Roman does similar, though he doesn’t reciprocate the courtesy of doing so quietly. He watches videos at full volume, shaking the bed with his giggles. 

You shift to your other side, now facing Roman, who lays on his back. Your phone rests on the bed as you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks. You don’t often see him look relaxed like how he does now – how sexy he looks in those thin pajamas of his, his biceps toned and his bulge protruding from beneath the fabric of his pants. His usually sleek hair is slightly messy, and you wonder how those silky strands would feel between your fingers as you tug on them, with him holding you close in a tight embrace and his lips connected to yours, swallowing your moans. 

You tell yourself not to think about it, about him. Don’t think, don’t think, god, do not think about him. Don’t think about his thick bulge or his hands or their wrinkles, the bluish-green veins that climb up his knuckles. Don’t think about his waist, don’t think about his soft tummy, or the thin line of hair leading down his groin and beneath his pants. 

Roman’s looking at you, wearing that sly, cocky grin of his, pleased with the knowledge of what he does to you. He shuts his phone off and turns off the light on his nightstand, the faint glow coming from the open curtains now the only light.

He doesn’t take long to drift into a slumber, though you do, still thinking of the things you shouldn’t be. Images of Roman still dance in your mind for hours, you watch the time go by when you check your phone’s lock screen. You hear his voice in your head, that two word instruction from him playing over like a broken record. Behave yourself. And god, you can fucking smell him. He smells clean, like he always does, with notes of Caroline Herrera’s Bad Boy filling your nostrils – a cologne with a truly obnoxious bottle and an even more obnoxious name. Roman picked it out one time you were with him while he was shopping, just to piss you off. You’ve never hated the smell, though, and you love it even more on his skin. But he smells like sweat too, just a bit. So masculine and slightly musky, you can almost taste him. 

Your hand has moved on its own accord underneath your shirt and between your breasts. You’re not sure when it happened, but you become acutely aware of it when your knuckles brush against your nipple and you gasp. 

Roman stirs in his sleep, but he’s dead to the world. And you’re good at keeping yourself quiet – at least you think you are. 

You turn your head to look at Roman, pinching and twisting at your nipples. Alternating between soft and hard, gentle and rough touches. Roman’s got his arm draped over his head, his palm so close to you. You imagine it’s that hand, his hand, squeezing and groping the soft flesh of your breasts, pretending that tingling feeling when you drag your thumbs over your sensitive buds is his tongue, all hot and wet. You let yourself breathe, the quietest moans escaping your lips. 

And then you let your fingers dip lower, your fingertips skating down your body, feeling your sides and the soft curve of your tummy, your hips. Your hand goes lower and lower, your thighs parting as you find your core but not moving your legs wide enough to cross Roman’s invisible line. Tracing your lips first, your fingers travel closer to where you need to feel them the most. You’re wet, so fucking wet as you press your middle finger against your hole, collecting your slick and dragging it up to your clit.

You shift in the bed, spreading your legs wider and now circling your clit with your middle and ring fingers, dipping them into your entrance once more to gather your arousal and drag it up through your folds. Massaging yourself, you still pretend it’s Roman’s hand as you take in that sweet feeling that’s quickly beginning to build in the pit of your stomach. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each circle of your fingertips on your clit, fighting yourself to keep your hips as still as can be.

Romans voice startles you. “For a second I wondered if we’re near a fuckin’... earthquake, or uh– fault line or something, but you’re just rubbing one out next to your boss. Wow. Do you always shake the bed this much when you masturbate?” 

You gasp, “Roman.”

“Or just when you’re next to me?” You’re not really sure what the right move here is. You could pull your hand from under your pants, but Roman’s already caught you red handed. Leaving your hand between your thighs is not the right move either. “Funny,” he adds, “I thought we just had a conversation about behaving. Didn’t we?”

“I know, I–”

“I mean, you get brownie points for not crossing the line in the bed, I guess,” Roman lifts the covers of the bed, then reaches for your knee and gently pushes it back on your side of the bed. “But you are crossing all sorts of other lines. You must think you’re sneaky. I heard you moaning, you know,” he accuses. He mocks you then, all snark and derision as he lets out exaggerated and breathy moans you’re almost sure you weren’t making. Roman, oh, Roman! Yeah, right there, Roman, please…

 “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?” he asks as he reaches for your jaw with one of his hands, turning you to look at him. He pinches, fingertips digging into the softness of your cheeks. No hiding now. “Is that what gets you off?” 

“No,” you stammer. 

“Liar.”

The air feels thick and Roman’s hazel eyes are dark, inky black, perhaps from the lack of light or maybe, you think, his own arousal? No, probably not. He looks genuinely pissed and you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, his intense gaze making you squirm. But you can’t seem to look away, either. He allows a silence to hang heavily between you both as he stares at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. And that’s when you notice it – with the hand that’s not holding your jaw, he’s stroking his cock underneath his pants. You can see the bulge, the shifting of his hand. 

“You’re touching yourself too,” you point out.

“Yeah, now I am. I’m a man. You made blood rush to my penis with your fucking moans and your Roman this and Roman that,” he huffs. Pulling down his pants and letting his cock spring free, he continues, “So my dick is hard. It should be your problem to deal with, but I’m bailing you out yet again. Always cleaning your— fuck,” he stutters, “Your messes.”

You have no clue what’s happening here. Roman lets go of his cock for a moment and he reaches for your arm, guiding you to start moving your hand once again. “Get it out of your system,” he says. “Go on. You didn’t have an issue fucking yourself next to me five minutes ago, did you?”

Cautiously, as with Roman you know full well that this could be a trap, you begin to move your hand with his guidance. “Yeah, good girl,” he whispers in a hushed, almost imperceptible tone, one that you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “God, I can’t believe you,” he says more clearly this time. “You better make it quick. We’re getting this over with, and we’re not looking at each other. Call it your punishment or something, just fuckin’—  take care of yourself.”

Roman adjusts so he’s flat on his back and resumes stroking his cock. His eyes are screwed shut and you’re watching his chest rise and fall, fully breaking the rule he just set. But you can’t help yourself, he looks so gorgeous like this. His pubic hair is longer than you would have expected Roman to have, but gorgeous nonetheless. He’s not the longest but his head is wide and round, with thick veins climbing his shaft. 

“You’re watching, you fucking creep,” he says in a breathy tone, his words slightly broken. He’s not looking at you, only at the ceiling above. “Breaking the rules. You have a hard time with that, don’t you? Look, I can follow rules. Why can’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. 

Roman rolls his eyes at that, then flips on his side to finally look at you. A flicker of what looks to be relief quickly washes over his features, but quickly disappears. He reaches for your shirt, hiking it up your torso and tugging – up, take it off. You do as he asks, taking off your top and exposing your breasts to the chill of the air in the hotel room. 

“I hope you know that I’m not gonna touch you,” Roman says. 

“I know,” you breathe. “I know you won’t, I just, I just…”

“Just what?” Roman asks, still stroking his cock. You take off the rest of your pajamas and adjust yourself slightly, then spread your legs wide, the invisible line be damned as your knees fall back toward your chest and you rub your swollen clit. God, how you need his fingers inside you. You’d fuck yourself on your own fingers, but it won’t satisfy you in the way you think Roman could. “Spit it out,” Roman demands. 

Fuck it. You’ll deal with whatever consequences later. In the boldest of moves, you reach for the hand that strokes his cock and bring it to your pussy, guiding Roman’s middle and ring fingers to your entrance and pushing them inside. 

Roman wears a twisted sort of smile as he curls his fingers inside you, now playing his own game with you. He taunted you with an accusation of ulterior motives, but it was all talk, like how most of Roman is. He suspected this before, but now he's certain: you have nothing but need for him. Amused by it, he’s now playing his game with you. As you moan for him he wonders, how much can he toy with you, drag this out? How much will you beg for him? Your hand is wrapped around his cock now by your own choice, he wonders how low will you sink, and how high will he feel by the end of whatever this is? 

You’re inching closer to him. Desperate. 

“Your hand is wrapped around my cock,” he whispers. “And you buried my fingers inside your cunt. Is something not clicking in that head of yours?”

“So good,” you breathe. You work his shaft, twisting your hand up and down. He’s thick, veiny, his head feels smooth in your palm. Roman’s touch is firm as removes your hand from his cock to hover it beneath your chin. “Spit,” he tells you. You’re so pliant, and do as you’re told, spitting into your own palm, Roman putting it back where he wants it. “Wow. I pull my cock out and you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” 

All you do is nod. 

“God you’re soaked. Are you always this soaked for me? Just walking around all day, panties fuckin’ ruined?”

“Sh– shut up.”

Oh, you’ve still got some bite left. Roman wonders how quickly he can make that diminish. “Poor thing, did I hit a nerve? You wanna fuck me that badly? Are you really that desperate for your boss?” You say nothing, just inch even closer to Roman now. You hook a leg over his hip, moving your cunt towards what you need most from him, slowly guiding him in your hand ever closer to your entrance and hoping he’ll remove his fingers from you and replace them with his cock. And thank god, he does it. He pushes your hand away, gripping his member and notching the tip in your entrance. Fucking finally.

But he only collects your wetness on his tip, then spreads it down his shaft. He pushes his pelvis forward, rubbing his cock against your hooded clit and making you shiver. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he taunts, now dragging his cockhead down your dripping seam. 

“Roman,” you whine. 

“Roman,” he says, mimicking your whine, exaggerating how pathetic you sound. “Is that all you can say?”

“Fuck me,” you gasp. “Just fuck me, Roman.” 

“Yeah, I know. You know my name and how to nag me to fuck you. I get it. What you’re not getting is that I don’t care. It’s not gonna happen tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that… Just gonna fuckin’ play with you like this,” he hums, now pushing his cock up against your clit again, tapping you. “Yeah, you’re good. This is… this is good. I’ve been so bored recently, you know? Wonder what happens when I do this,” Roman stops tapping his head against your sensitive clit, now sliding himself left and right across your sex. He bites his bottom lip when you gasp and squirm.

“I wonder if I could make you come just doing this,” he muses, continuing to tease you. “I know I could. I could blow my load on your pussy right now and make you clean up a mess for once. Is that what you need? For me to show you what you’re meant for?”

Maybe, you think. Maybe not. You don’t know what you think. You need his cock. Roman pushes himself forward, fitting just his head into your hole again. And you think it’s coming, the fullness, the pressure, the ache and the stretch and the burn. He’s bent on his two prior rules, but compromise never comes. He doesn’t give in to you. Roman’s grinning, giggling to himself as he draws his hips backward, denying you. Watching how you struggle for him, how you whine and squirm and push your hips towards him. “Is it?” he asks. 

“Fuck, is what?”

“Is that what you need?”

“Yeah, I need you to fuck me. Roman, please. Need it – need you inside.” 

 Roman pushes out an exhale somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, that’s funny. That’s not what I asked at all. Is listening really that hard for you? What do they call that, tunnel vision but for hearing. Tunnel hearing? I don’t think that’s right.” 

“I’m sorry–”

“Google it for me.”

“Roman.”

“What the fuck do you think I hired you for? Google it. For me. Thanks.”

Roman lifts his dick again, rubbing it against your clit and then lining himself up again, all as you scramble for your phone and quickly open Safari. ‘Funnel visipn bur for hearin g’ is what you type, the combined sensations of Roman’s teasing and the too-bright screen making your task difficult. “Audi-auditory exclusion,” you manage to tell him. 

“Lemme see it,” Roman takes your phone from your hand, squinting at the screen. “Auditory exclusion is a form of temporary loss of hearing occurring under high stress,” he reads in his phony serious tone, still teasing you, bumping into your clit and then notching himself at your entrance, again and again and again. Giving you just a taste of what you know he could offer you instead. He’s opening Wikipedia now. “Auditory exclusion happens as a result of the physiological effects of the acute stress response, specifically an increased heart rate.”

“Fuck me, Roman, fuck me, please, I’m begging, please, please…”

“Begging’s nice, good. Very good. Very cute. But uh–” Roman points to your phone, “I’m busy reading here, so maybe quiet down. I really don’t want to hear it,” he laughs breathlessly, but nothing about this is funny to you. You’re in tears now. Tears of anger, frustration, shock. Roman lines up with your slick hole, just as he’s done repeatedly before. He notices your tears, “My god, you’re crying for it. So desperate, aren’t you?” he mocks your pout, wiping away your tears. You tell him you need him. “Need me? What a strong word. Yeah, I know that you need me. Message clear. God, you repeat yourself a lot. Fucking annoying.” 

Fuck this. Roman’s still on Wikipedia and down some rabbit-hole not even related to auditory exclusion. He’s stopped teasing you, his cock just resting, nestled at your entrance as he scrolls. And you take your chance. 

You reach for his shoulders and flip yourself so you’re above him, then sink down on his cock. Roman’s startled but he moans as he disappears into you and you sigh, finally feeling that stretch of his cock you’ve been craving since you don’t even know when – long before tonight. Roman watches where your body connects to his, seemingly shocked. He scoffs. “Oh, fuck you.”

Roman pushes your body off of his, he’s small but stronger than he looks. He flips you on your tummy and his touch is harsh but just what you need when he finally grabs your hips, placing his palm between your shoulder blades and forcing your chest down to the mattress. He was somewhat gentle when he was teasing you before, but all of that is gone now, as he lines up with your entrance and slams his hips into you, rocking you forward. He pulls out almost all the way before doing it again, harder. So many noises. You – gushing on his cock, moaning, crying out for him. Roman – his thighs slapping against yours, his grunts and his curses and breathy groans. The bed creaking with each of his thrusts. Roman fills you up better than you could imagine – fucking perfectly –hitting your walls, that sweet spot inside you. 

“So fucking wet for your boss. What’s that say about you, huh?”

Roman grips your hips tight – too tight. He’s denting his nails into your skin and it hurts, his thumbs are digging into your lower back. There’s no fluidity to his thrusts, no steady roll of his hips. Just Roman, parting your insides with the harsh rutting of his hips. His heavy balls swinging, bouncing against your clit, his soft tummy warm against your back. 

He sets a steady rhythm, a rhythm for his pleasure alone. Fucking you seemingly in two, exactly how you want it. Of course you want it this way. He can hear it in your muffled whimpers and cries, he wonders if the sheets are stained under your face, soaked with your tears. Roman holds your waist, forcing you up with your back against his chest. “Fuck,” you cry, and Roman wraps a hand over your mouth, the other is groping your breasts. Not that he doesn’t love the sounds you’re making for him, he just wants to give you another reminder of who’s in charge here – of how this is gonna go down, according to Roman. 

He tugs your earlobe between his teeth, his nose nudging your cheek. His mouth travels lower then, he bites at your neck where it meets your shoulders, the stubble on his cheeks scratching your skin. He’s sucking at your flesh hard enough to leave a mark – for what reason, he’s not entirely sure. To punish and to hurt you, humiliate you, maybe even mark you as his. It’s possessive and primal in essence, how the way you need him so fervently makes him feel powerful in a way he often does not. And you’re not helping your case at all, with your squirming and your whimpers only egging him on. You tried to take what you need from him, but he’ll drill into your head that you’ll only receive what he’s willing to give to you.

He wonders what comes after this. If you’ll turn on your side in bed, leaking with his come and hiding yourself from him, or if maybe you’ll cling to him instead. He knows that he’ll lay next to you after this and wonder what you’ll be like for the rest of this trip. Will you be shyer, about the same as usual, or maybe even bold? He’ll experiment with you, see how you react to a cold shoulder or a shower of attention. See what you’ll do when he squeezes your ass, or when sitting next to him in the car, the helicopter, or at dinner when his hand finds your thigh and inches closer to your sex. Will you lean into it? Will you squirm and push his hand away?

His hands travel along your sides and down your torso, he can tell you’re loving his touch. You’re shameless in your reaction to him, your pussy squeezing him, your wanton moans. Curious, Roman reaches for your clit just to see how you’ll respond. He teases you, tries to write his name with his fingertips into you. Lewd sounds of skin slapping skin, the obscenity of your pussy’s slick noises. He’s not going to last much longer, that is quite clear. 

He doesn’t care to try to make you finish first, as a gentleman should, although Roman nor anyone else would describe himself as such. You’re on his time. He knows how desperate you are to come, but he doesn’t care. He’ll get his first, something he doesn’t often get otherwise. And so his pace quickens, still biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck and shoulders. He bets that in all those late-night fantasies of yours about this moment, touching yourself in the dark, you didn't picture him being a biter. This much is evident with your pussy clenching on him and your short gasps showing your surprise. 

He savors that feeling in every inch of himself – the power he holds knowing you’re aching not only to come on his cock, but to feel his touch, to experience him. It’s still just a game to Roman. Maybe it’ll always be a game. He’s not sure yet. 

His cock twitches inside you, that warm and sticky feeling in his balls is beginning to crescendo. “I need to come,” you beg. “Roman, please make me come, I need-.”

“Shut up. I don’t care.”  Roman fucks you with frenzied thrusts, and he doesn’t pull out to stroke himself above you, doesn’t ask you if you’re on the pill or if you want him to come on your ass or your tits or in your mouth. Roman shamelessly lets himself go and fills you with his hot spend. His noises are like music as he comes inside you, melodic grunts and moans coming from deep within him. And you take it all, everything he gives you because that’s what you’re meant for. 

Roman takes heaving breaths above you, pulling out and his spend spills onto the comforter. He doesn’t give a shit. And as you collapse down onto your hands and knees you think that’s that, that he really doesn’t care. That all of this was probably about Roman savoring the feeling of having control over another person, and that dangling pleasure over her head is how he’ll get it. 

Roman climbs off the bed and you’re trembling. He flips you onto your back, pulls you forward by your legs so that your sex is centered with his face as he kneels at the edge of the bed. His mind has changed quickly – first he wanted to know what would happen if he didn’t make you come. He thought next about eating you out from behind, denying you connection as he tastes you, buries himself in your most intimate place. But you’ve done well for him, and it’s clear that you’ll take what he gives you at any cost. Roman watches you with hooded eyelids, offering you that connection as he brings his face to your center, licking a thick stripe up your cunt. Call it his soft spot. 

“Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”

Roman dives back into you, and you hesitate before reaching for his scalp. Tentatively, you do it anyway, just to see if he’ll react. He might smack your hands away, maybe he’ll place them down on the bed. You’re sure he won’t hold them. 

He lets your hands linger. Your fingers tug on those sleek strands of hair as he eats you, his scruff chafing your thighs. His eyes alternate between fluttering shut and peering up at you as dips his tongue into your entrance, licking his spend from your folds. He brings a hand to your cunt, two of his fingers pushing into your heat as his tongue dances circles around your clit. He’ll never tell you how sweet you taste on his lips. 

“Yes, oh god, Roman.” He’s kissing your cunt, lapping at your folds, his tongue teasing all of that sensitive flesh. His fingers curl inside you at the same time he sucks your clit between his lips, making you writhe for him. “Right there, Roman.” 

You’re not sure if he’s indulging himself or you at this moment. He eats you like a man starved, he eats you like it's his artwork. Nipping at your folds, his fingers inside you never once faltering their movements. You grind against his mouth as his tongue flicks and swirls. After all that’s taken place tonight, it doesn’t take you long to come. You bite down on your moans as pleasure washes over you, and you come on Roman’s tongue, gushing into the palm of his hand. When he’s ensured that he’s milked you entirely, he pulls away and takes his place back on his side of the invisible line. 

Roman had wondered if - once in bed - would you cling to him or turn away, but he doesn’t allow you that choice. Instead, he takes your wrist between his fingers as he turns away, curling on his side, effectively wrapping your body to spoon around his. He keeps your arm secured firm under his, tucked around his torso. Tender Roman. You’re on edge, he’s been relatively quiet this whole time, and you’re expecting some snarky comment or a vulgar insult. “I swear to god, I will smother you with my fucking pillow if you snore,” is all he says. His threat, albeit baseless, comforts you. 

-

[otrtbs]

any jegulus fic recs??

heyo !! here are a few !!

meet me on telegraph avenue by ani_wahstan

giggled, kicked my feet, screamed into my pillow. it’s ‘90s american marauders. california boy james who listens to the red hot chili peppers and the beastie boys and he works at a record shop with regulus and iris by the goo goo dolls is all up in it and the cranberries. (<- basically the music is incredible) has queer history sprinkled in, i love 13/10 reading experience

living in border lines by inthesquare

this will rip your heart out of your chest. just. btw. and it is one of the most well-written reflections of grief. i love what the author does in this fic, how they experiment with sentences. the whole thing is so cool and will make you sob violently and leave you tender.

nothing fades like the light by rollercoasterwords

already mentioned this on briefly in my last fic rec but it’s soooo good! 1890s cowboy jegulus. with zombies. yeah. exactly. regulus steals james’ horse, tom is there fucking shit up, there’s literally zombies! the whole atmosphere of the fic is phenomenal another 13/10

creaking in my bones (it’s not pain, it’s applause) by perfectsnaccccccc

LISTEN TO ME. regulus black is a curator of his family owned museum. james is a sculptor. an artist. there’s art, there’s angst, there’s drama, there’s crime. james is so wonderful in this i could combust.

[papil0nglegs]

Fallen angel!Adam x Moth Healer!Reader

Chapter 3: The beautiful light

(Ch.1) (Ch.2) (Ch.3)

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, cannibalism, and smoking

A/n: Just wanna thank all the peeps that were able to vote on the poll I made a few days ago <33 Had no idea what to do for the story so voting really helped me. Also this one’s kinda L O N G, I just had a lot of ideas for this part. (Also this song just reminded me of this fic listen to it PLS)

Adam’s pov:

Another weird ass dream, ever since I moved in this chicks hip-dip apartment I’ve been getting them. It’s mostly the day of the extermination, I can’t believe I didn’t turn back as soon as they started fighting back. Now I let everyone in heaven down, even Lute.

Whatever, I need to go wiz. I should probably stay quiet otherwise that butterfly bitch might wa-

Third dream pov (idk what to call it):

Before Adam can finish his thoughts, he looks towards the mirror, revealing his angel form but severely injured, and with a large gaping wound in his chest, surrounded by blood. Adam lets out a startled yelp, backing up against the bathroom door, awakening him.

Normal third pov:

Adam wakes up, startled at his new dream. He had still been lying on the couch, but his eyes wider than ever. He sits up, some of the leather couch sticking against his sweaty body, scratching the back of his head. The grey morning sky shined between the window blinds, he wanted to go back to sleep, but who could after a dream like that?

Adam rushes to the bathroom, quickly opening the door and turning on the lights, heading straight to the mirror. He gently touches his left horn, feeling a mix of relief but also disappointment that he’s back in his new body.

A lousy cough escapes his chapped lips, feeling that his throat is dry, and decides to get water from the kitchen tap, grabbing a mug and filling it up with water. Sure it tasted weird and warm, but he didn’t care. He chugged the nearly the whole thing in one sip, with some water spilling from the cup to his chin hairs. Adam slams the cup against the table.

Suddenly, a displeasing alarm goes off in the distance. He realizes that he’s not alone in here, what could that alarm be for tho? Y/n steps out of from her room still in her pajamas, yawning.

“Oh Adam!... What are you doing up this early?” She asks while heading to the kitchen. “I dunno man, just felt like it.” He responds in annoyance, “What are you doing up this early? You’re the one with the annoying ass alarm.”

Y/n rolls her eyes a bit while opening the fridge and taking out a box of frozen waffles, “I just have somethings to do today, so I thought I’d wake up early. I’m planning to pick up something from cannibal town.” She begins putting some waffles in a toaster while making herself a latte. “Gasp, you should totally come!!” Y/n exclaims excitedly.

Adam looks alarmed, offended even, and just stairs in confusion. “Y/n, why in the fuck, would I want to go anywhere, in this miserable place.” He says in a brutally honest manner. “I mean seriously, are you blind? Have you seen what goes on out there??” Adam pulls y/n to the window opening the blinds, revealing a guy getting his brains blown out.

Y/n cringes at the sight, “okay yeah it’s not great, but cannibal town is pretty enjoyable! Cmon you’ll see what I mean when we go there, plus you get to try out those wings of yours.” She says pointing at his scaly two scaly things, leading Adam to spread one of them a bit.

Y/n stares at Adam waiting for an answer, he sighs in annoyance, “eugh, fine I’ll go. Whatever means I can crash in here.” She then jumps in excitement, “Yess!! Also you’re going to have to pay at least half of the rent here if you wanna stay.” (He really thought 😭)

Time skip: 2hours

Adam waits on the couch waiting for y/n to finish up getting ready, y/n was lucky to find her old roommates clothes in his size. He has a leather jacket, along with black jeans and a Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. He’s wearing the same boots he wore when he got here tho, he thought they’d look good with his jacket. Adam flinches at the sudden steps of y/n who just finished up, walking in the room.

“Sorry, I didnt scare you did I?” She says chuckling whilst brushing her hair. She had a long forest green skirt, along with a brown laced top and a cardigan that only reached her elbows. “So do you wanna fly or walk there? I can teach you how!”

Adam realizes, he has to pretend he doesn’t know how to fly, otherwise she might get suspicious. He assumes that since one angel has fallen, then there must be a shit ton. He can’t let her know that he’s the reason for the exterminations. “yeah, yeah totally totes you can definitelyteachmehowtoflymanandstuffhahahha” He rambles on while his eyebrows are furrowed and making finger guns to him, noticeably sweating his ass off.

Y/n notices this, then coming to a conclusion. “I know why you’re nervous, Adam..” She says gently, while looking up at him. Adam panics, nearly choking on his spit, “Ar-Ar you serious?”

“Yeah..

you must be afraid of heights!” She exclaimed happily, truly a eureka moment for this woman. Adam sighs in relief, the most unbearable relief anyone has ever felt. “I knew it from the moment I saw you, it’s always the tall ones.” She says shaking her head. “We don’t have to fly, Adam. It’s only a mile or two away, we’ll get there in no time!” Y/n adds picking up her messenger bag. “Now, let’s get going!” She says with a bright smile.

As they step onto the sidewalk, y/n notices that Adam seems a bit cautious. Normally when he was in hell it was to commit a massacre, not having to worry about a sinner hurting them because-well they couldn’t at the time. But now things are different, he’s one of them now.

“Relax,” Y/n starts, “just stay out of trouble, and stick with me. Oh and also watch your step, these guys are open to just taking a dump anywhere they’d like.”

The two begin to walk on the dirty sidewalk, y/n being extra careful about where she’s walking, but Adam doesn’t really mind stepping on a used condom or some junkies bag of coke.

“So, what’s it like up there?” Y/n asks, Adam gets alarmed at her question, stuttering a bit. “uuuUUP WHERE?”

“On earth! I heard that the sky is blue instead of red. And the animals there are not as scaly” y/n begins to stroke the soft hairs on her left wing, she was truly torturing this poor man. “How do the animals look here?” He asks, before y/n can respond,

splat!

A large red fleshy snake falls onto the ground, not really moving that much, just there. “I think that should answer your question” y/n then walks over the seemingly dead snake, while Adam does the same.

“So like, what do you guys do here all day?” Adam questions while sneering at the explicit posters causally displayed out in the open. “I mean, that depends on who you’re asking. Most people go on a rampage as soon as they get here, at least from what I see.” Y/n shrugs. “But sometimes you find a stable part of hell, or at least as stable as hell can be.” Adam becomes slightly intrigued about what she’s saying about hell. “Like, I work at a cafe around here. It’s nice but it’s a bit hard to keep up the wage when angels and demons wreck the place every now and then.” She says sadly, Adam feeling a wave of shame, that she has to live in constant fear while working because of others, and sometimes him.

Eventually, both y/n and Adam finally enter cannibal town. Adam being a bit wary, since he sees many familiar faces around the place, but not for good reason. Y/n then noticing, “Adam? You don’t look so good, is something wrong?” She questions. Adam begins to snap out of his cautious mode, “uhh, yeah?It’s not like on earth people are open to just eating each other out in the open-and NOT in the good way.” He scoffs, pointing to a gentlemen eating another’s guts out. “Oof, Rosie might wanna get that checked at.” Y/n says looking over at where Adam is pointing.

“And who the hell is Rosie??” Adam asks pretty loudly, “The mayor, but I’m sure she’s busy today. Anyways, I’m gonna go to the florist shop. Whole I go you can..” Y/n begins to look around, trying to find a place for Adam to get distracted, then finding a smoke store nearby. “-go to the smoke shop!” She suggests pointing nervously to the shop, hoping that her assumption wouldn’t offend him.

Adam stared at the shop for a bit, he had smoked before, but it was mostly when he was able to disguise himself as a human and go to earth. But he hasn’t done that in a while, last time he smoked he found himself passed out at the back of some hippies van. Ever since Sera made sure he was always watched whenever he went to earth.

“…yeah sure I’ll go smoke.” He submits. Y/n taking a breath of relief, “good! I’ll be in the shop if you need me” Y/n quickly gives him a nice 50, then going off to the flower shop.

Adam finishes his shopping trip pretty quickly, to be fair all he had was 50$ and the store was quite small. He just bought a bubbler and a pack of cigarettes, along with a lighter of course. He sits on a bench that had been between the two stores, then smoking one of the cigarettes.

He sat on that thing for at least 6 or 7 minutes. As he was sitting, he did notice that this place was nicer than every other part of hell. A bit weird to think about, how just a few days ago they were trying to kill each other. A huge gust of wind blows his cigar onto the floor, and into a puddle to his left. His attention is then drawn into the reflection for a few seconds, but he shrinks away from the pain of realizing he’s a demon now, and turns away closing his eyes.

After a good 9 minutes, y/n comes out with a woven basket of lavender, as well as candles with flowers inside of them. “Oh I took so long didn’t I?” She apologizes. “They just had a great sale on candles I couldn’t resist!” Y/n begins to sit down with Adam, hoping to rest a bit after standing round for a bit. “So, how have your last few days been down here?”

“Shitty. Do you have any eyeliner?” Adam replies manspreading, him being slightly slouched down. Y/n then scurries in her bag, hoping to find some. “I didn’t strike you as the type to wear eyeliner.” She chuckles, handing him the small stick along with a hand mirror. “What shape do you like putting it? I like a thin feline, it’s cute but basic.” Y/n shrugs, “Do I look like Jeffery star to you? I don’t know the fuckin species of eyeliner.” He laughs shaking his head giving himself a soft Smoke. Y/n laughs along with him, setting down the basket of lavender and candles between them.

“I got the lavender stuff for you.” Y/n says, Adam pauses, looking over at y/n. “…you’re not that smart are you?” Adam stares judgmentally, y/n taking lots of offense to his comment but keeping quiet. “Why do I need flowers right now? I don’t need a pity gift, especially if they’re some fucking flowers.” Adam scoffs. “No, they aren’t a pity gift or anything, I can tell you haven’t slept peacefully ever since you’ve gotten here.” Y/n removes a bit of the cloth on the basket to take one of the lavenders out. “These will be able to help you, I can make tea out of them and they’ll help you out. Or we can use the aromatherapy I got with it too, just in case you don’t like tea.” Y/n offers, she reaches over to gently grab Adam’s hand places it on hers.

“I know you’re going through a lot Adam. You don’t have to tell me why, but I need you to know that hiding your feelings wont do any good for you.” She explains giving a worried but weirdly comforting look at him, “so please, let me help you.”

Adam stares into y/n’s maroon and green eyes. He then feels as if a big weight of pressure left his chest, he’s never been able to have a person understand him like this. Especially when they don’t really know who he is. Tears slowly form in his red eyes, as y/n pulls him in for a hug. Feeling the warmth in her body made him feel safe in a way, that he could trust her. That she can always help him when he needs it. He didn’t know the exact words for it, but all he knew is that he hadn’t felt this way ever since Eden.

Adam’s dream pov:

Both Adam and y/n had gotten back to the house, it was a nice trip back since Adam finally trusted her a whole lot more. Once they got back y/n gave Adam some lavender tea, sure he would rather drink a cup of literal vomit than tea but he was desperate to sleep soundly for once. Hell, he could even sleep in jeans if we wanted to.

Adam practically throws himself on the couch, immediately going to sleep as soon as his cheek hits the pillow. He dreams of nothing but a void of darkness, as others do, but in that void he sees a familiar face in it, carrying a beautiful light with it. As the light came closer, it transformed into something Adam can only described as beauty.

He wasn't sure who it was tho, he's seen many women in his life, but he couldn't poke out who it was, only little things.The way she laughed, felt like small bubbles popping in his head. and her teeth coming from her smile, like beams of light, peaking through clusters and clusters of trees. And her eyes, oh her gorgeous eyes, like two pearls shining against the sunlight. Whoever it was, was truly gorgeous. But who was it?

Lilith?

Eve?

Lute?

No, it can’t be

You just met her..

Y/n? ♡

[fanaticsnail]

I remember you mentioned having a Mihawk playlist, and the way you manage to find songs that perfectly fit the vibes of your fics and enhance the reading experience is one of the things I love about your writing

So I was wondering if you could share some of the songs on your playlist? Or even some songs that you associate with certain characters/tropes/scenarios?

I always love it when you send me asks, @sexc-snail.

I absolutely DO have a Mihawk playlist. I share the playlist construction with another creator on Tumblr who I love, cherish and adore: @sordidmusings. We add to it as we write, recommend songs as they come to us to help with words in works.

I could get into a long, long rant about music so I will add a page break here ❤. Lots of song recs to follow for the OPLA cast so far.

I am a violinist; have been playing for 25 years this year (I AM GETTING OLD, JEEPERS CREEPERS). Music is a great, passionate love affair for me and I adore learning about songs and pieces new and old. Here are some recommendations for songs and vibes I associate with the characters and the tropes.

I never add lyrics to my fics so the readers can visualize their own favourite melodies where they see fit, but I do have tunes in mind when I write them. The only fic I've really centralised a song about is the "You Should Be Sad" Mihawk fic I wrote a while back and the Koby series I'm writing.

Here are some song recommendations: all songs are Spotify linked. Enjoy a peek into my madness.

For the Characters

Luffy:

Long Way Home: Walk off the Earth, Lindsay Stirling

Following the Sun: SUPER-Hi, NEEKA

La Isla Bonita: Madonna

Zoro

Work Song: Hozier

Promise: Voyager

Cold Shot: Stevie Ray Vaughan

Sanji

Love Story: Indila

Know You Girls: Franz Ferdinand

Family Line: Conan Grey

Nami (She gets four, because she's amazing and I love her)

Runaway: Aurora

My Mother Told Me: NATI, Cullen Vance, Jonny Stewart

Outside: Ellie Golding, Calvin Harris

Queen of the Kings: Alessandra

Usopp

Mechanical Instinct: Aviators

The Higher Ground: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Eastside: Benny Blanco, Halsey, Khalid

Buggy

Be Your Shadow: The Wombats

Gasoline: Halsey

I Wanna Be Your Slave: Maneskin

Shanks:

The One that Got Away: The Civil Wars

Atlantis: Seafret

Barton Hollow: The Civil Wars

Mihawk

Seven Nation Army: Postmodern Jukebox

My Heart With You: The Rescues

The Snake: Lana Lubany

Koby (He also gets four, because he deserves only good things, and because Morgan Davies is Aussie like me)

Grieve No More: Patty Gurdy

Siuil A Run: Ella Roberts

Mad World: Jasmine Thompson

Again: Flyleaf

Helmeppo

Fighter: Christina Aguilera

Torn: Natalie Imbruglia

Elastic Heart: Sia

Garp

Sharp Dressed Man: ZZ Top

Under a Violet Moon: Blackmores Night

Billie Jean: The Civil Wars

For the Tropes

Unrequitted Love (My all time favourite thing)

Wrecking Ball: Beth

Can't Help Falling in Love: Tommee Profitt, Brooke

I Found: Amber Run

Comptine d'un autre ete l'apres-midi: Yann Tierson

Derniere Danse: Indila

Only in my Mind: Kenya Grace

Over and Over: Three Days Grace

Broken Pieces: Apocalyptica Lacey

Too Close: Alex Clare

Stupid Heart: Sorana

Enemies to Lovers

FMLYHM: Sether

Closer: NIN

Hella Good: No Doubt

Play With Fire: Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money

Why'd You Only Ever Call Me When You're High: Arctic Monkeys

For when they give into their feelings:

Surrender: Natalie Taylor

As the World Caves In: Sarah Cothran

Freeze You Out: Marina Kaye

Say Yes To Heaven: Lana Del Rey

For when they give up but feelings are still there

Lose you to love me: Selena Gomez

Liar: Camilla Cabello

Darkside: Alan Walker

Say My Name: David Guetta, Bebe Rexha, J Balvin

Only Love Can Hurt Like This: Paloma Faith

I See Red: Everybody Loves an Outlaw

If you made it this far, thank you. This was a labour of love. Happy listening ❤

[walter-hotgirl-white]

here’s a domestic bliss/smut fic i wrote about these guys while back!! read!! now!!

Adam lay restless, half-nude, and continuously vaping next to his boyfriend as the Red Hot Chili Peppers played quietly from the radio across the room. Lawrence took a long sip of his now cold coffee, sparing a swift glance at him. Adam’s hair was disheveled from sleep. He had a lazy, content grin with a mischievous pair of glinting eyes, practically begging for his attention.

…. or in other words, Adam begs for Lawrence’s attention by being a brat and somehow gets away with it

[whoahoney]

Alright yall, Deftones/septum piercing boy turned into a ghost, may he rest in peace 💀 but never fear….

the Pizza Guy is here. 😏👀

That’s right, a new white boy of the month in Honeyland but that’s okay, I’ve decided to award him white boy of the month, every month for the rest of the year (at least) because he’s my BOYFRIEND!

he actually asked me and everything, like whaaaat?

I love the story of how we met so much so imma write it out a little bit before I toy with turning it into an Eddie fic like I did with the chilis waiter 💀🫶🏻

Read on if you’re interested in my weird love life, it’s appreciated but never required!

TW: pregnancy sickness, crush on someone other than your shitty ass husband (it’s okay we’re divorced now 🥳😂)

Basically back in 2021, I was heavily pregnant with my second child and alllllways craving pizza. I already order dominos often enough they know my name and order when I come in, but it was much more often than normal while I was growing a human 😂

One day, I go to pick up my order at the dominos hot spot in town and there is a handsome Covid-masked boy there waiting for me.

I’d never seen him before so I knew he was new. I got shy and just accepted the pizza, trying to get back into my car as quickly as possible. But then he gave me the loveliest smile and wished me a good day and I thought about it a smidge longer than a married woman should.

The next time I saw him, he gave me tons of paper plates and napkins and full shakers of pepper and Parmesan, and that became a regular occurrence I didn’t think too much of. (Turns out he was STEALING FROM WORK)

The next time, he asked me about how I was feeling, about my baby, and what his name was going to be.

And then the next time, I was late picking up my order, and it’s protocol to call the customer in that instance, so he calls me and asks if I’m okay. Truth be told, I wasn’t 💀 I had BARFED all over myself (cause pregnant) as I was driving over there. I was so upset, clamoring around my car searching for an old hoodie to pull on, but I couldn’t find anything 🥲

Obviously I wasn’t going to tell him all that, so I told him I’d be there momentarily, that I had just been sick.

He offers to drive it to me, free of charge, but I was almost there anyway.

He didn’t even acknowledge the puke on my shirt and gave me the same smile he always did (that I couldn’t see cause of the mask lmao) and told me to be careful going home.

lemme tell you that when I got back, I had a text from an unknown number asking if I got home okay 🥺 my friend was utterly convinced this dude had the hots for me but I was married and pregnant so I had a hard time hoppin on that bandwagon, “it’s not like anything’s going to happen anyway”

I’d say a month after that, I stopped seeing him and assumed he’d moved onto bigger and better things than dominos.

Cut to January 2024, I’m swiping on bumble, minding my business and I see the cutest guy in a Metallica shirt eating noodles straight from the pot over the sink. I was already set on swiping right, but then I looked further at his profile and lo and behold, a selfie in a familiar domino’s uniform!! It had to be him.

I swipe right, we MATCH, I confirm it’s him, he REMEMBERS ME, and we plan a date.

He suggested that we meet at our “old spot” and he’d bring dinner.

And what does he bring??

A dominos pizza and a dozen red roses. 🥺

Turns out my friend was right, he confirmed that he had a “huge little crush” on me and that he’d bargain with the other drivers to get my order if it wasn’t his to take 😭 he’d give them the tips I’d give him if he ever had to convince someone to switch with him 🥲

I’ve dated some very kind and respectful people since July 2023 but this guy blows them all out of the water 😭

He’s so communicative, his boundaries and emotional intelligence are unmatched, we have the same taste in music, his love languages are the same as mine, he’s also a single father (and absolutely rocks it), we share the same values, every day he’s surprising me with some lore of his, or his kindness, or thoughtful nature 🥺

he plans every date, sends me his work schedule so I know when I can come in for a surprise visit if I want to, he brings me snacks, pays for and pumps my gas, opens every door, and won’t even let me lift a finger in my own house!!! All without me asking.

And don’t get me started on the sex bro… I— I can’t. 🥲🫠😮‍💨

If you read this far, I love you, I hope you’re doing well, I miss my tumblr/eddie hyper fixation so much, but I feel it coming back 🤍 I hope to finish our beloved stories and give them all the endings they/we deserve 😌🥰

Xx

Honey

[sapphire-reads]

90s AU Nessian Mixed Tape

A Companion Playlist to the ACOTAR fic, Spellbound

Click here for the playlist on Spotify

Click here to read Spellbound on Ao3

Side A

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac

When You're Gone by The Cranberries

Just like Heaven by The Cure

Uninvited by Alanis Morissette

Criminal by Fiona Apple

Miss World by Hole

Creep by Radiohead

Linger by The Cranberries

Paper Bag by Fiona Apple

The Perfect Drug by Nine Inch Nails

Side B

Say It Ain't So by Weezer

Disarm by The Smashing Pumpkins

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

Boys Don't Cry by The Cure

Big Empty by Stone Temple Pilots

Blood Sugar Sex Magik by Red Hot Chili Peppers

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

I'll Stand by You by The Pretenders

Head over Feet by Alanis Morissette

This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) by Talking Heads

[agentkaz]

along with the end of undethklok ii comes the soundtrack for undethklok ii! featuring all of the songs the chapters are named after and much much more, it's a bunch of stuff that inspired the fic, made me think about it, fit with it, or other related stuff. please enjoy these jams i have chosen for you. you can kind of sort of get the story from the music if you just want to listen to that.

plaintext tracklist under the cut if you have all the tracks and want to assemble it yourself (i'll probs put a whole zip file together someday like i'm slowly doing with some of my fanmixes but it'll be a while before that)

sorry it's not all completely metal if you're the type who needs it to be all completely metal It Will Not Be

Jonathan Davis - Underneath My Skin

Unto Others - Give Me To The Night

Assemblage 23 - The Noise Inside My Head

Necro Facility - You Want It

Fear Factory - Invisible Wounds (Dark Bodies)

Myrkur - Like Humans

The Birthday Massacre - I Think We're Alone Now

HIM - Passion's Killing Floor

Seven Red Seven - You're The Answer

Snog - Hunter

Fair To Midland - Musical Chairs

Flesh Field - The Collapse

I:Scintilla - HEAD

Project Pitchfork - Timekiller

Pyogenesis - That's When Everybody Gets Hurt

Red Hot Chili Peppers - Wet Sand

Ego Likeness - Sirens And Satellites

Information Society - The Seeds of Pain

George Kollias - Shall Rise/Shall Be Dead

IAMX - Disciple (Lord Of The Lost Remix)

The Oculist - Terminal

Ashbury Heights - World Coming Down

Deathstars - Death Dies Hard

Cvlt Ov the Svn - The Pit

That Handsome Devil - Elephant Bones

Stone Temple Pilots - Big Bang Baby

3TEETH, Mick Gordon - Higher Than Death

VNV Nation - Perpetual

Amorphis - Amongst Stars (feat. Anneke van Giersbergen)

Seeming - Talk About Bones

[monmoss]

Good Time Boys

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Red Hot Chili Peppers (Band) Rating: Explicit Relationships: John Frusciante/Anthony Kiedis Summary:

AU Omegaverse RHCP fanfic.

18-year-old John Frusciante experiences his first heat soon after joining the band. Anthony offers a helping cock.

[xirayn]

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal)

Read Ch 1 of the full fic here

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Featuring @aibhlynn as Eddie

The tape with Corroded Coffin’s music has been playing in Steve’s car on repeat. The few attempts to sing along have been made difficult by the live-wire energy of Eddie’s vocals. They tear through the instrumentals in a battle that neither side is winning. When Robin had heard it, she compared Eddie’s voice to a hot pepper overpowering the flavors of a chili, while Steve’s voice is more like chocolate. He had been lost until she explained that the best chilies use chocolate to balance out the heat of the peppers and enhance the flavors of the spices in that slow, leading way she does while waiting for him to catch up.

Steve tries again while waiting for Eddie in the school parking lot. The music is turned down so he doesn’t have to compete with it. His eyes close to help him better hear his spot among the melody and meter. After a deep breath, he stops trying to imitate Eddie’s voice, lets himself be Steve, and starts singing. Images of singing with Eddie come up as he does; seeing the way his dark eyes light up when they hit a harmony.

A thud against the window startles Steve. He twists around ready for a fight, but the sight of a paper with ‘B+’ at the top in bold, red marker by Eddie’s name has the adrenaline giving way to excitement.

It’s the last passing grade Eddie needed to graduate.

“Nancy did it!” Steve exclaims through the glass. His eyes move to Eddie, who was beaming like an absolute idiot. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Eddie whoops. He clutches the paper to his chest and does a joyous little jig before darting around the front of the car. He opens the door and flings himself into the passenger seat, quickly yanking the door closed and buckling his seatbelt.

“I owe Nancy the biggest thank you,” he laughs in a high voice that bubbles with excitement. The paper is held out as far as he can in admiration. 

“Cake.” His expression gets impossibly brighter as he looks over at Steve. “We need to get a cake. And- I don’t know – ice cream. We can get everyone together and throw a party because I’m finally fucking graduating!”

“You’re graduating!” Steve clasps Eddie’s shoulder and affectionately shakes it, matching that infectious, celebratory energy.

“I’m graduating.” Eddie’s arms drop and he stares down at the paper crinkled between his fingers. His wild grin settles into something quiet and happy. He chuckles. “Man - how do you even plan a party?”

He has seen the graduation parties of his friends and peers who had ultimately left him behind, along with Hawkins High. Now it was his turn. He going to walk that stage, look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, flip him the bird, snatch that diploma and-

His eyes flick towards Steve.

“This is real, right? I passed? This is a B+ next to my name?” Eddie’s excitement was beginning to be tempered by disbelief. He’s rarely gotten above a C in anything.

“Yep. Just don’t cause too much trouble and it’s all downhill from here, man.”

Eddie scoffs, leaning forward to shove the paper into his bag. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Harrington?” He sits back up with a mischievous grin and prods Steve between the ribs. “Trouble is my middle name.”

“Alright, alright.” Steve swats away the finger jabbing his side. “Where does the future graduate want to go?”

They don’t have any obligations until band practice tomorrow since the kids are spending the night at the Hopper-Byers’ house. Vickie has also been having Robin over for ‘girls nights’ that Robin insists don’t mean anything. Even if it isn’t anything, Steve is happy for her. She deserves friends beyond him.

“I’m starving,” Eddie comments. He goes to poke Steve again, only to pull back before his hand is smacked again. A playful wink accentuates his grin. “Steak and Ale,” he suggests since the government is generously paying the hush money that allows for the occasional splurge, “or did you want to grab a pizza? There is also that new soda shop on Second Street.”

Steven snorts at the idea of them in a soda shop. For a moment, he imagines them as Sandy and Danny, the prep and the greaser, drinking a root beer float with two straws. Except that Steve is no Sandy in a way that has nothing to do with gender.

“Your choice, man.”

Tag list

@amoris-no-smut-allowed @zerokrox-blog @babyrunsforfanfic @killmeinmydreams @beeing-stuupid @impeachy @archerwithmanybows @alienace @awkwardgravity1 @nuttychaosface @lexyvey @beckkthewreck @obsessivlyme @artiststarme @icecweme @estrellami-1 @spectrum-spectre @newtstabber​

[gnrbitch]

Summer break Pt.13 - Seattlehead

!Final Part!

Warnings: Smoking, profanity

————

Seattle, WA 1986

“So he just threw you on the bus?” Andrew said, his eyes widened.

Y/n popped her lips, “Yup”

“That’s fucken harsh” her friend said, taking a hit out of a cigarette.

It had been 4 weeks since Y/n left LA, and a lot has happened.

First, she left her parents house as soon as she got to Seattle (2 days, to be exact). She moved in with Stone, and one of his band members, Jeff. Second, she chopped all her hair off, which wasn’t really her idea, more Jeff’s ideas but hey, at least now she looks cool. Third, shes taking her dream of becoming a guitarist more seriously, going around and jamming out with different people. She met this sick ass fucken singer named Layne, so she’s been trying to convince him to join her band.

And no, she hasn’t touched another needle since she left LA. And another no, she hasn’t spoken to Duff since the incident.

But she has talked to Fru, telling him everything that happened. He’s told her that guns is still together, which she was relived to hear. As for him, he’s just joined the Red Hot Chili Peppers, which made Y/n very excited for him.

“So you haven’t spoken to him since?” Andrew asked her.

“I keep telling her to, but she doesn’t have the balls to call him” Stone remarked.

“Cut me some slack- I just don’t know what to say” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“I say you call him” Jeff quipped

Y/n felt her heard drop “Right now?”

“Well yea, you can’t avoid him forever” Andrew said.

“Fuck- Okay fine” Y/n said abruptly, standing up and heading towards Andrews phone.

“FINALLY!” Stone yelled out.

Y/n took a deep breath in as she dialed in Duffs number, hoping he wasn’t home, but also hoping he was.

Hearing the phone ring a few more times, she turned to look at her friends, “What the fuck do i say if he answers?” She asked

They all shrugged, “Hello maybe?” Jeff said before they all laughed.

Y/n rolled her eyes, before feeling her heart drop as she heard the voice on the other end.

“Hello?” She heard, recognizing the voice

She cleared her throat, “Hey- is Duff home?”

“Y/n?” The voice said, quietly.

“Slash” She said

“Holy shit Y/n” He said again

“Yea it’s- it’s me” She stuttered out

“How um- how are you?” Slash said.

“I’m good” She hummed, hearing other voices in the background growing louder.

“That’s good- look i just wanna apologize for wha-” Slash started, getting cut off by Y/n

“It’s okay Slash” She said, taking in a breath, “So um- is Duff home?”

“Yea- he is” Slash said

Y/n heard mumbling on the other end, a little more like arguing before the voice of her brothers appeared.

“Y/n?” He said

“The one and only” She nervously joked

“Glad to hear you’re alive” Duff said “Heard you moved out”

“Yea, i did” She twirled the phone cord with her finger “Glad to hear guns is still together” she said.

“Almost killed Slash but, as you heard i didn’t.”

Y/n let out a nervous laugh, “Yea um- Sorry about y’know, everything”

“It’s cool” He said, and she could just imagine him shrugging on the other end.

“Okay- cool. Yea” She awkwardly said.

“So how’s seattle?” Duff asked nonchalantly

“It’s good, raining like a bitch though” She said

She heard her brother let out a laugh, “Not surprising”

She smiled “Yea-”

“Y/N WE GOTTA GO!” Stone yelled out

“Who was that?” Duff asked

“My roommate- look I gotta go Duff, I’ll call you another time” She said

“Okay well, talk to you later Y/n” Duff said

Y/n hung up the phone before looking over at Stone, “What was that about?” She asked

“We gotta go to Laynes remember? convince him to join your band” Stone said

“Oh yea, hey you still have the number of that one drummer, what was his fucken name… Sean?” Y/n asked

“Hell yea i do” Stone smiled at her as they all walked out of Andrews place.

————

THE END!!!!!

Sorry if this ending was short- just wanted to fill you guys on what happened when Y/n got back to seattle.

I hope you guys enjoyed this fic, and the ending. Thank you all for sticking around!!!! Im honestly so sad i finished it 🙁🙁🙁

till next time, xxxgnrbitch

Tagged: @hoodiesandicedcoffee - @eddiiiieeee - @alysais2cool

[loveinallthismess]

A Firm Kick, part 2 Rating: Explicit Fandom: Red Hot Chili Peppers (band) Pairing: John Frusciante/Anthony Kiedis Two months he’s been playing with the Peppers in a near constant state of heart-attack inducing bliss and fear. When his fingers dance over his fretboard, he can almost believe the voices when they tell him this is what he was born for. But he also hears the whispers that hiss and tell him that this is what he’s somehow gonna fuck up. November 26, 1988 A not so innocent joke made during a backstage interview leads to John, naked and nervous, in Anthony's bed.

A little first time Anthony and John fic written for the lovely diamondcylinder. Plenty of internalised John monologue freaking out about his attraction to Anthony, his place in the band as the newest member, and how having sex with Anthony might mess things up forever.