#since my first ten pull he’s been by my side and. god i love him so much augh

[m1d-45]

(i wanted to do one last one im sorry (/_;))

Dear Razor,

I hope this finds you well in the lands of Wolvendom. How have you been, dear? And how is Bennett? Not in any more cuts and bruises, I hope.

I know you always take care of Bennett whenever you adventure together but don't forget to take care of yourself, too! Both of you are like little brothers to me and I would hate to see you two injured. We are lupical, as you would always say.

I will return to Mondstadt soon, rest assured bringing gifts of course. Until then, I wish you bountiful hunts for you and the rest of your lupical. Can't wait to see you soon, dear. And pass this along to Bennett will you?

signed,

avo

(A tiny keychain crocheted version of him and Bennett lay inside the letter. Along with a small illustration of you and him)

(I love Razor sm btw. He's best boy and I will protect him at all costs)

razor sat among his pack, absentmindedly picking leaves or shedding pieces of fur from their coats whenever he got bored. night watch was quiet, peaceful, an easy time to think when opposed to the busy bustle of daytime. though it wasn’t good for him to take every watch, he did volunteer for them more often than the other wolves.

the night was calm, the trees thin enough to allow enough light through that he could see, but thick enough that no enemies should see him sitting up in the cave. occasionally a wind would sweep through, a chill creeping up his arms, but he would simply sink them into whoever’s fur was closest and wait for the wind to pass. it always did, even in mondstat.

razor stood up, carefully picking his way out of the cave. at the mouth, he stretched, feeling his gloves brush the stone at the top. one downside of night watch was the tension that came with constantly being on alert. it was a necessary evil, as a sleeping pack was a vulnerable one, and he was always sure to rid of any excess. the last thing he needed was a cramp or a strained muscle when an enemy-

leaves rustled, and he barely had to think before reaching for his claymore, already on the handle and ready to pull.

the bushes were still. it could be a squirrel, or a bird. something harmless. small. it was rare, but it had happened before, and that detail alone kept him from waking the others.

when the intruder appeared, it was not a clear threat. but, it was no squirrel either. it came from above, a second sun falling from the branches in slow motion. it spun in midair as he watched, ridding itself of the leaf that had landed on top of it.

razor hesitated. did he call it? it… seemed harmless, drifting towards him at a lazy pace. the wind picked up, from the star towards him, carrying a familiar smell. so it was from someone he knew…

carefully, he let the ball fall into his cupped hands, looking up at where it came from. the leaves would occasionally part, but he didn’t see anybody or anything up there. just the night sky, with a few falling stars streaking across the thin patches he could see.

stars…

he looked back down at his hands, but the ‘star’ was gone. two small doll-like plushes rested in his hands, attached to hooks and laying on a bed of paper, with lettering for sheets. the figures looked familiar, but he quickly turned his attention to the words themselves.

your letter wasn’t long, but with the amount of times he reread it it might have been. he knew you—just because he lived with the wolves didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of the one who made them, boreas would have his hide otherwise—but not why you would send him a letter. he did not need your writing to know he was one of your favored. he did not need a star to tell him he was cared for. you had done that on your own, with your kind words when bringing him and bennett on your journey, when you blessed him with claws of iron and teeth of thunder.

still, he held your gifts close, smiling slightly at your drawing. maybe, you would come visit him in wolvendom, and his lupical would be complete.

[conniesanchor]

Conrad xClingy!reader pleaseeee

a week ago, you had looked over at your boyfriends phone and saw a text from one of his friends asking if conrad could hang out. without thinking, he responded with, ’sorry, man. with my girl right now, maybe soon.’ and he put his phone down and immediately returned his attention to you.

his friend texted back quickly, "again? god, she's all over you." conrad rolled his eyes and set his phone on the table next to the couch. it didn't seem like he was upset with you, but you wanted to give him space regardless.

now, instead of going to his house every day, you had only seen him once this week. conrad had been blowing up your phone asking if everything was alright. it was rare for you to go multiple days without seeing each other, but a week? he was spiraling with the thought that he had done something wrong.

the newest texts read,

connie <3

Hey. Can I come over?

you

sorry, connie. im not feeling good. maybe tomorrow. i love you.

then, he called you.

"hey, everything okay?" he asked over the phone, worry lacing his voice.

"yes, connie. just don't want to get you sick." you lied, feeling the familiar pit of guilt build in your stomach.

he took a moment to respond but then hit you with, "don't care. im coming over. i haven't seen you in days," he mentioned, "i love you. see you in a bit."

he hung up before you could respond.

it was ten minutes exactly before conrad was knocking on your door. sighing, you got up to let him in. your heart broke when you saw the grocery bag full of medicine and candy.

conrad was confused when you opened the door. you didn't look sick. your nose wasn't red, and you didn't look like you were in pain. he tilted his head, "thought you were sick," the boy mumbled, "got you ibuprofen and cough medicine."

that was what sent you over the edge. tears welling in your eyes at how thoughtful he was. "sorry, con," you apologized. he wasn't sure why, though.

he set the bag down anyway, wrapping his arms around you. "sorry for what?" you pulled away, "big breath, baby," he encouraged, giving an example.

you did as told, "im not sick, i just-" you got cut off by a hiccup, "last time you were here, your friend, he-"

he quickly realized where you were going with this. he hadn't talked to that friend since that text message. "is this about the text he sent me? how he thinks you're all over me?" you nodded. "i love you, y/n. okay? you're just the right amount of all over me and i would never trade it for the world," he assured you, rubbing your back gently.

you cried more at that, pulling away from him. you moved to go sit on the couch, and he wasn't far behind, "talk to me, baby."

"i just feel like im holding you back-"

"no," he responded flat. "you're not holding me back. there's not a day i would rather hang out with my friends rather than you. you're first, if they don't like that they can find someone new to hang out with. you have never been upset at me for spending time with them, they don't get to be upset that im spending time with you. got it?" conrad asked, but it wasn't much of a question at all.

"got it," you mumbled, wiping the tears from your face.

he helped you in your efforts, placing a hand on each side of your face and dragging his thumbs across hour cheeks, "now be nice to my girlfriend, please?"

you nodded, "can we watch tangled?"

"of course, pretty girl."

[dragon-ascent]

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

[gureumz]

are you mine? (are you? part 2)

rating: explicit

members: sunghoon, heeseung

notes/warnings: fem!reader, INFIDELITY, angst, bf!heeseung, reader cheats on heeseung (again), university setting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, mentions of degrading words in a non-sexual manner, i reiterate again: THERE IS CHEATING IN THIS STORY

a/n: i didn't intend to write a part 2 for 'are you?' but a lot of people wanted to know how it would turn out so here it is! this is much shorter than the first part and is mostly just vibes but with the events of the first part, what else is there to say? 🧍🏻‍♀️

read part 1 here

"do you want to meet my parents?"

you tense under heeseung's touch, hand midway down his bare chest. he's laying on his side, facing you, your legs tangled underneath the blanket. the warmth of his body fades away when a silent chill runs down your spine.

"yeah," you let out uneasily, chuckling in an attempt to mask your nerves. "but, not anytime soon."

heeseung's face remains the same, eyes unreadable as he examines your features. he brushes your hair behind your shoulder, running his fingertips down the flesh of your arm.

"why not? it's been almost four months since we started going out," heeseung replies softly, drawing circles on your elbow.

you move your arm away.

"i just don't think i'm ready," you say with an air of finality, hoping that heeseung would drop the subject.

you don't think you'll ever be ready. not after...

heeseung watches you for a few moments. to your surprise, he nods, lips spreading into an understanding smile.

"okay," heeseung chirps. "that's fine."

your chest feels like it's been caved in, relief and dread filling in like heavy sand.

"thank you," you say, smiling up at your boyfriend's face.

heeseung moves closer and plants a chaste kiss on your lips. you respond, endeared by the gentle pass of his mouth on yours, a contrast to how rough he was with you merely minutes before.

"if anything's bothering you, you know you can always tell me right?" heeseung whispers, placing slow, loving kisses on your face.

your heart seems to stop, then picks up beating ten times faster. heeseung isn't very vocal, and this sudden display of affirmation has you reeling.

he knows. he must know.

you laugh, a nervous shake in your voice. a half-baked joke enters your mind.

"anything?" you attempt playfully. heeseung takes the bait and pulls back, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"what if i was secretly a serial killer?" you deadpan, narrowing your eyes at heeseung. a smile tugs at the edges of your lips.

heeseung chuckles, pulling you against his chest. he presses his lips one more time to your forehead.

"then i would gladly be your victim."

---

"i'm yours."

you whimper at these words, pulling him closer to you, face buried in his sturdy shoulder. he moves passionately against you and your whole body erupts in invisible flames.

"all yours," sunghoon reiterates, tongue running along the line of your jaw.

"you don't mean that," you argue weakly.

your cheeks burn up as you realize just how loud the two of you are being. his dorm bed creaking, headboard banging against the wall. you knew it was safer to meet him here, less of a chance that your boyfriend might find something that isn't his.

"i do," sunghoon replies gruffly. "a slave to you, to this—god—to this fucking pussy."

you sob at his words, a mix of arousal, elation, and remorse rising in you. with sunghoon, it just felt too good, too alluring to refuse. he was a lighthouse, standing out in a sea of darkness you didn't even know you were stranded on.

with him, you were, you are shameless.

sunghoon finishes inside you, but not before you reach the finish line first, sans condom this time, as he had so many times since that night in his car.

the thought makes you feel filthy all over, in desperate need of a shower, to scrub all sin from your skin.

"spend the night," sunghoon says once he hands you a towel for you to use. you hold it to your core, wincing when you feel the simultaneous ache and squelch of his release dribbling out of you. you catch it before it stains his sheets.

you've never spent the night here before. you check the digital clock on sunghoons desk and it reads 1:13 a.m.

"i can't. heeseung's coming over early to walk me to class," you inform, twisting the towel in your hands.

sunghoon watches you from where he sits on the edge of his bed. you meet his eyes and you know he can see right through you.

heeseung's not really coming over.

"fine," you finally concede. you pretend not to notice the brief twitch in sunghoon's mouth.

"i kinda want to shower though," you add, eyes flitting over to the bathroom door.

sunghoon grins, leaning close. you wrap your arms around your knees protectively. he stares at your face for a second before kissing you softly, so soft you barely feel it.

"whatever you want," sunghoon says.

---

sunghoon holds you close under the shower now. a million thoughts are racing through your mind. in this space, at this time, it seems like the world has stopped and only the two of you are living beings in existence.

"text me tomorrow," sunghoon reminds, deep voice echoing against the bathroom walls.

you sigh, lifting your head from where it rests on his chest.

"you know i can't do that."

and you can't.

all your exchanges have been through brief, curt phone calls. sunghoon was smart enough to punch in his number on your phone after you were done in the parking lot that night. since then, you've labored over deleting every call log your phone creates after each conversation.

heeseung was none the wiser.

"then call," sunghoon corrects himself. "i love hearing your voice."

ironically, you don't say anything more to that.

---

"i can't believe i've been assigned on a project with him!"

your ears perk up.

the restaurant you're in is empty at this hour, with the rush of lunch ending some time ago. you pick up a french fry from the bowl you and heeseung are sharing, popping the greasy treat into your mouth.

"who?" you question.

"sunghoon."

the initial reaction you have to your boyfriend mentioning the guy you've been fucking behind his back has grown weaker over the past few weeks, but with how often heeseung references sunghoon, it's a surprise you haven't thrown up all over yourself in sheer guilt.

"oh, him again?" you throw out nonchalantly. you busy yourself with your phone, ignoring the way heeseung looks at you quizzically.

"what do you mean 'again'?"

you look at heeseung, trying to portray the perfect mix of exasperation and cluelessness.

"it's always sunghoon this and sunghoon that," you explain. "if i didn't know better, i'd say you were in love with the guy."

ha ha. what a funny joke.

and much to your surprise, heeseung finds this absolutely hilarious. he lets out a genuine, hearty laugh, slamming the table with his palm.

"he wishes," heeseung responds with a snort. "he's always trying to one-up me, copying everything i do, following me around like a puppy. i'd say he was in love with me."

wrong.

you laugh along, finishing off another french fry.

---

"you're trying to steal my boyfriend's life, is that it?"

sunghoon stops typing on his laptop, turning to you from where he's seated at his desk. you're sprawled over his bed, wearing one of his shirts.

"excuse me?" sunghoon says, as if fighting off the urge to laugh.

you slide off the mattress, sauntering over to him. you throw a leg over his lap, sinking down until you're straddling sunghoon. his large hands hold you by your waist. looking down at him at this moment, you feel every fiber of your being light up with a sort of giddiness you've never felt before.

"heeseung told me about how you're always trying to one-up him and 'beat him at his own game', so to speak," you explain.

"and now you're banging me, his girlfriend, every chance you get," you add cheekily, kissing the corner of sunghoon's mouth.

sunghoon exhales, hands traveling up your back, cradling you, holding you close.

"i don't want to steal his life," sunghoon says, voice low.

"even if i came with it?" you question, tilting your head to the side. sunghoon grins, kissing you so suddenly, you fall back against his desk.

"such a clever, clever girl."

you're trembling now.

anticipation. want. need.

"my clever girl," he adds.

---

the first cracks start showing the day you ask sunghoon about his wanting heeseung's life.

you promised to meet heeseung for dinner later that day but not before you rid yourself of sunghoon's shirt, of course. he sent you off with a long, heady kiss against the door of his dorm.

you were distracted for the entirety of the meal. heeseung could tell. you know heeseung could tell. something was eating at you from inside.

it didn't help when heeseung made a mindless comment on the way back to your own dorm room.

"you smell different," he had said.

you surrendered to the idea that you were irrevocably fucked at that point. you made a sorry excuse about borrowing a friend's perfume, nonetheless.

the cracks are spreading, spiderwebs of destruction in the walls of your relationship.

sunghoon is a proud man, not unlike heeseung. he's greedy, selfish, controlled by his desires.

you aren't as careful as you used to be. first, a hair tie, a black one, like any other hair tie. you left it at sunghoon's dorm one day. to this day, he wears it like a badge of honor.

a shirt next. a considerable jump from a hair tie, but sunghoon lent you one, and delirious with sleep, neither of you noticed when you waltzed right out of his room still brandishing the white tee that was obviously too big for you.

you made it under your own covers on your own bed when you finally realized.

lastly, a hickey.

you've done it now. you've fucked up so bad you can already see heeseung razing both heaven and hell as he finds out.

"fuck," you mutter under your breath, staring daggers at your reflection, at the red-purple mark just above your collarbone.

"fuck!"

how could both of you reach this point? practically gallivanting your affair under heeseung's nose. it sickens you. you're disgusted with yourself.

but you know you're only this appalled because you're a hair away from being caught.

you jump when you hear the door to your room slam shut. of course. of course. heeseung has a copy of your dorm room key. you gave it to him a few weeks ago as a sort of milestone in your relationship.

you think to yourself with much irritability that you shouldn't have done that.

the ceiling is caving in. run. run now.

"_________?" heeseung calls out. you hear him approach the bathroom door. he knocks and you feel like screaming.

so polite. heeseung's always so polite.

"i don't feel good, hee," you manage. you definitely feel sick and you want to pass out.

"what's wrong? do you need to go to the hospital?" heeseung asks, voice growing loud with concern. he tries the doorknob.

"no!" you yell a little too loud. "it's just—i just need to be left alone, please."

silence.

you hold your breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

you don't even know who's looking back at you.

"okay," heeseung finally says after a few moments. "let me know if you need anything, please?"

you call out a reply, collapsing to the bathroom floor once you hear your door close once more.

---

you ignore him for a week.

he tries to come over but you shoo him away with one excuse or another. your conversations are contained in dry texts and obligated phone calls. he asks what's wrong. he pleads with you.

nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong!

heeseung seems like a far-off memory now. you haven't properly looked at his face in days. you haven't held him in much longer.

today, he's waiting for you outside your dorm. he looks like shit. dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, clothes unironed.

"baby, what's happening?" heeseung asks, not even sparing you any formalities. no 'hey', 'hi', or 'hello'.

he holds you by the arms, still gentle as ever and only now do you see the damage in his eyes. damage you've inflicted.

"i—," you begin. what are you going to say? sorry, i've been fucking sunghoon behind your back for the better part of four months, i let him call me his and i agree when he says he's mine?

"i can't do this anymore," you whisper, head hung low.

"do what? what can't you do?" heeseung demands, voice rising into a desperate whine.

"baby, please," he continues, sinking to his knees. he looks up at you and he's crying.

"what did i do?"

you watch heeseung sob at your feet and it's the most difficult thing you've had to watch thus far. you ball your hands into fists, confused, angry, regretful.

where's that ego now, heeseung? why aren't you mad? be mad! yell at me, blame me for something, tell me how much better off you'd be with someone else! make it easier for me to tell the world that you hurt me!

"you didn't do anything," you say, tears now falling from your own eyes.

heeseung just looks at you. looks at you for what seems like hours. his face, previously crumped up in despair, morphs into an expression of clarity.

he knows.

heeseung pulls himself up from the ground, letting go of you and stepping back, as if shocked by electricity.

"i hope you're happy."

you know what that means.

go fuck yourself. fuck you and whoever the guy is. you're a whore, a bitch, a waste of my time!

you look at heeseung one final time, shoulders shaking as your whole body is racked with sobs.

"i love you," heeseung declares.

he brushes past you, down the stairs, out the lobby, out the exit.

out of your life.

---

you truly are sick. you're vile. you're the worst.

sunghoon knows even before you can say anything. he pulls you into his room and into his arms, whispering nonsense to you as you cry into his chest.

and then you're kissing, hands pulling at clothes, tongues dragging against skin, blood rushing in your ears.

you know this makes sunghoon feel better about himself. you're not stupid. you carried out a secret affair for weeks. of course, you aren't.

you realize now that it's sunghoon who has an ego.

he relishes in the way you cling to him so desperately, basks in the sounds you make, mixed with his name.

"i've got you," sunghoon reassures, arms braced on either side of your head as he fucks you down on his bed.

"please," you whimper out, holding sunghoon's face in your hands. he's going so deep, abusing your hole and it feels so good.

sunghoon kisses you and it's forceful and needy and everything you need at this moment.

"you're mine," sunghoon grunts, your bottom lip caught between his.

you mewl as he lets go of your lip with a tug.

"i'm yours," you say.

sunghoon leaves kisses all over your chest, neck, and jaw. he's getting you closer to your release. you want it, you want it so bad.

"and i'm yours?" sunghoon questions, kissing behind your ear.

"all mine," you confirm.

---

you wake up the next day, limbs heavy and a colossal headache bursting through your head. you feel arms tighten around your midsection and it's a tidal wave of memories of the day before for the next few seconds.

you bury yourself further into the pillows and covers.

sunghoon kisses the nape of your neck and you drift back into sleep.

[tvgirllvr]

remus lupin x reader (smut)

summary: remus finds your diary in the gryffindor common room and takes matters into his own hands to make sure your desires come true.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wear a condom), nicknames, semi-public sex, oral (fem receiving), praise, dom remus, probably more I forgot

___________________________________________________________________________________

It’s almost midnight, and since you seem to always be making dumb decisions, you’re up in the Gryffindor common room studying for a Herbology exam the next day. Bored out of your mind you decide to call it a night from studying. However, that didn’t mean you were done cracking some books open that night. You reached into your bag and pulled out your most prized (and private) possession. Your diary.

If anyone found your diary it would be the end of you. The embarrassment it would cause you, the journal containing some of your most secretive thoughts and stories. There was one specific individual you don’t want finding it, the one and only, Remus Lupin.

You had been crushing on Remus since the first time you saw him on the Hogwarts Express. Within then and now you had tried everything to get him out of your head. Fucking other guys, refusing to look at him in class, distancing yourself from Potter and Black. No matter what you tried, he was still painted in your dumb brain. That was until you found the true glory of journaling.

You learned that if you wrote down what exactly you wanted to happen between you and Lupin your desires minimized. Your diary was your outlet for the sexual desires caused by the tall, reserved, brunette boy.

You pick up your quill and began writing tonight’s excerpt of what you’ll be dreaming about later…

February 6th, 1978

I can’t stand it. All I want is for him to want me, to need me, the same way I need him. He has no clue what I do at night. Quietly in my bed touching myself to the thought of him doing it instead. I only think about what his cock looks like all the time. Sometimes I can’t stop myself from staring, I know it’s wrong. The second I realize what I’m doing I turn away. After, however, I vision him slowly fucking me from behind. I wonder what he’s like. Is he soft? Hard? Demanding? It doesn’t matter, I want it all. I want all of him. Universe if you're reading this, please, for the love of god, gift me with that boy.

Closing your diary, you gather what you think is all of your belongings and head up to your dorm. You change into your pajamas, brush your teeth, and slip into bed. You thought it would be easy falling asleep considering how tired you were, however, it didn’t take long to realize that you were experiencing horrible insomnia. Tossing and turning, there was nothing you could do to turn your brain off. You decided to make the grand decision of going back down to the common room and writing some more, hoping that it will be the fix you need. You get out of bed, slip your slippers on, and dig through your bag to find your diary.

Shit. Where was it?

At this point, all of your things inside the bag had been dumped on your bed. Throwing books, hair ties, lip gloss, and deodorant to the side, you realize you must have left it downstairs. Luckily, since it was very late at night, the chances of someone finding it were small. Still, you were eager to get your hands on it before someone else did. You rushed out of your dorm and down the stairs, only to find the worst case scenario happening before your eyes.

Remus was standing by the seating area with your diary wide open. His hands were large enough to fall off the cover of the journal. He was moving his pointer finger under every line as he examined word for word what you had written down. His eyebrows were scrunched. What was he thinking? God, he would never talk to you after this. After standing there for about ten seconds as you watched the boy completely invade your privacy, you realized you had to come up with some plan. Thinking, thinking, thinking, and nothing was coming to your head. Come on, think more. Thinking…thinking…thinking…

“This is yours?”

After looking up from your feet, Remus was staring directly at you. Not only that, he was talking to you. The journal was now closed as he was holding it up with his right hand. Fuck. Quick, you need to say something.

“Huh?” God. You sounded stupid.

“Is this your journal?” he asked again. His eyes were smaller, like he was examining you. His body language was very hard to read. He stood tall but still managed to keep his feelings reserved.

“Nope.” Nice save.

“It isn’t?” he asked shockingly.

“Nope.”

“Then why is your name in it?” Fuck. He got you there. Are you that crazy for lying though? I mean, the guy who you’ve been wanting to screw for years on end just read about the dreams you have where he fucks you right, left, and upside down.

“Ok. It’s mine,” you replied. Every little bit of dignity you had left was washed away with the words you spoke. You noticed as Remus placed the journal down on the closest table and walked in your direction. He now was only a few inches away from you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what part was my favorite?” He asked you. He seriously did not just say that.

“...What?”

“I guess I’ll just tell you anyway. I very much enjoyed the passage dated a few weeks back where you wrote about how badly you wanted to... hmmm… let me find the page... “ride me until your legs are jelly and you had cum several times.” That part was my favorite,” he said, very confidently. You were stunned.

“What are you getting at?” you questioned. It seemed like he was just trying to humiliate you.

He put the journal back down on the closest table and took a step towards you.

“Do you want it or not, princess?” he whispered in your ear. Gosh, did you want it.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Please,” you begged, “I want it.”

Within moments he had pushed his lips against yours and placed his hands on your waist. He was so much taller than you, so in order to kiss you more efficiently, he grabbed your ass and picked you up so you were then straddling him. This made you let out a small moan into his mouth, making his very hard dick twitch in his pants.

“I wish I would have known,” he said within kisses on your neck, “I would have let you do whatever you want to me years ago. Give my doll whatever she wants.”

You decided to reference back to the part which he said was his favorite and direct him to the closest sofa. As you started to fiddle with the elastic of his sweatpants, he groaned under his breath.

“Slow down, slow down. Plenty of time love.”

He slowly laid you down so now he was on top of you. He grabbed the waistband of your pajamas and pulled them down, his head going down with them, stopping at your core. He stared directly at the wet spot created between the tension of you two.

“So fucking horny. I’ll make you feel good, you just gotta wait. Work for it a little bit,” Remus told you as he became eye level with you again and circled your clit through your underwear. He slowly removed them and pulled them off your ankles. He kneeled on the floor and pulled your legs so now his face was met right at your cunt.

“Remus,” you moaned loudly. It was hard to believe that this wasn’t one of those wet dreams you had on the regular.

“Shhhhh. Have to be quiet baby,” he reassured you, “I’m gonna make you feel good. So good, so….” He cut himself off as he attached his mouth to your clit and began abusing it with his tongue. Inserting one finger inside you, he let out a low groan, sending vibrations all throughout your body.

“How am I going to fit in there?” he questioned. With the way he said it, it didn’t even seem like he was trying to tease you. It sounded like he was genuinely concerned about the size of his cock compared to your cunt.

“So fucking good,” was all you said in return.

He continued to eat you out quickly but also managed to keep a nice pace, a pace that was only adding to the build-up of your orgasm. As he placed a second finger inside of you, you managed to only produce a small gasp for the time being. That didn’t last long as he added a third, and began thrusting in and out of you faster.

“Holy shit I’m gonna cum… fuck!” you whispered harshly. Your orgasm lingered through your body for a while, even after you finished. Remus’ tongue didn’t leave you until you had to physically grab his face and pull him into a kiss.

You two made out for a minute, him still on the ground. You grabbed his buff shoulders and motioned them so he was now laying on his back. The outline of his cock was now visible through his pants and to provide some comfort you began teasing him.

“Take them off,” he demanded. You now realized that he was fully clothed and you still had your shirt on. You used this time to get completely naked and remove Remus’ pants. However, as you went to remove his sweatshirt off, he stopped you.

“Just leave it on, doll,” he whispered. You obliged, not knowing why someone as beautiful as him wouldn’t want to show that part of himself to you. You continued to make out with him for some time while also jerking him off. God, was he huge. You had never been with something that big before, his worries about you not fitting him were now shared. The faces he made while you pleasured him were so pretty. The way his eyebrows scrunched when you slowly touched his tip made you wetter than before, not knowing if that was even possible.

“Baby, you gotta do something or this is going to be over before it starts,” he said with his head thrown back. As much as you wanted to see him cum, you also wanted to have him inside you.

He opened his mouth to ask you a question, but he was struggling a bit, “Mmph - do we need a - “

“No,” you said, “not unless you want to use one.”

“Okay, okay, oka-.”

You slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, only being able to take an inch or two at a time. You let out small gasps and you began bouncing up and down on him, taking a little more each time. Remus was biting his lip in an attempt to keep quiet but eventually gave up and let out a low groan.

“Dirty girl,” he whispered in your ear, “this is all you think about.” He placed both of his hands on your hips to guide you. It was obvious that you were struggling to hold yourself up and he was kind enough to help you.

“I can’t,” you whined out to him. By that, you meant you couldn’t move that fast with the size of him.

“Need me to stop? I’ll stop baby,” he said while slowing down.

“No! No, no, no, no,” you yelled at him, “just need help.”

He let out a low laugh and gripped your hips tighter. It took him no time to begin thrusting into you at a brutal pace, looking in your eyes for confirmation that it was okay. Even though you were on top of him, his natural dominance filled the empty room signaling that no matter what you did, he was still in charge. Tears of pleasure began streaming down your face as he brought his right thumb to your clit, fiddling with it like a button.

“Poor baby, thought you could take it. You’re so cute, using your tight cunt to make me feel good,” he rambled on. Based on his rambling you could tell he was getting close, but so were you too. “You gonna cum?”

You let out a high whimper in response but he didn’t consider that enough.

“Answer me. You gonna cum on my cock?” he asked demandingly.

“Yes!”

“Yes what?” God, he really did get off on making you look so fucking stupid.

“I’m going to cum on yo-your cock!”

That seemed satisfactory to him as he picked up the pace on your clit, pursuing your release. You felt him slow down the pace as you came, not wanting to hurt you since you had to be sensitive. He grabbed your head and brought your ear to his mouth.

“Where do you want it?” he whispered.

“What?”

“Bunny don’t play dumb, where do you want it?”

Oh.

“Inside me,” you replied.

“You sure?” he moaned out, trying to cover it. The thought of you letting him fill you up was the end of it all, it would only be seconds before he came.

“Yes! Inside me, please.”

He began slowly going faster again, however, you both knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Sloppy kisses were now being applied to your neck, hickies that wouldn't be easy to cover up appeared. You felt his dick twitch inside you as he let out a low, quiet moan in your ear. You decided to take all the energy you had left and ride him until his orgasm came.

“That's my girl, fuck -,” he quietly said as you felt his cum spill inside of you. You two sat there for a few seconds until he pulled you into a kiss.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Gosh, thank you.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hii! Let me start by saying I've binged most of your Tangerine and Pietro's works and I absolutely loved it 🤌🏻

If you're still accepting requests, could you write for fwb! Tangerine, after you told him that you should be just friends (bc of what he does for a living) but eventually cave in when he gets back from a mission? (mix of smut and fluff if possible).

Thank you <3

hii angel!! tehe yes ive seen you around, and tysm☹️okay I really love this !! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

MEET IN THE MIDDLE

tangerine x female reader

wc. 1107

cw. 18+ only!! spoiler alert but he tears readers clothing bc he's a desperate horny mess and it's hot as shit, unprepped and unprotected sex, pinv. mdni

Since you put a cool on your contractual relationship with Tangerine a month ago, you've delved back into that state of solemn longing. Putting an end to many months' worth of great sex wasn't easy - it really wasn't, and as much as you started to fall for the guy, you just couldn't seem to get over what he did for a living. 

No matter how much you pushed down that feeling of unease, you could not get past it.  

That was until ten days ago, when he texted you on a random tuesday, telling you he was leaving for work to South Africa, seeing if you wanted to meet when he returns. Since that text, he's been your every thought - every notion in your mind. 

The idea of him leaving for a dangerous job abroad struck panic and dread within you - the thought of him getting hurt without him knowing how much you really felt about him was something you could not bear to stomach.

After that text, you've been counting off the days until you could see him again, waiting until you get that confirmation he's okay and safe. 

It was finally the day Tangerine returns home from his trip, and it was singularly the only day of happiness you felt since calling things off. You both occasionally texted while he was away, only conversing when he had time to spare, talking about the plan for when he comes back. You settled on your place; he would go home, clean himself up and pop by yours for a casual, friendly night in - like old times.

Your door knocks in that familiar pattern you've grown to know so well, and you immediately rush to answer it - a bright smile as you peek through the gap, looking at Tangerine on the other side with a grin as sincere as yours.

"Oh my god," you gush, instantly wrapping him in a tight hug. You pull away, awkward eyes diverting from his awe-filled ones. "Sorry, sorry— that was too much. It's just..." you breathe, meeting his gaze. "Really good to see you."

"I missed you," he admits, speaking confidently. "But... didn't think you'd actually wanna see me."

Your smile resurfaces, and you pause. That wasn't true - you couldn't wait to see Tangerine again. 

Since you had time to call down during the time apart, you've grown to realise that his job didn't define him as a person and that, at the core of it, it doesn't really matter. He isn't some abhorrent, abusive mercenary - he is someone who loves and cares deeply, someone who is sweet and thoughtful, no matter how hard they pretend they're not.

"Bull," you joke, sweet eyes staying glued to his - like they were taking him all in, seeing him in the flesh for the first time again. "That's not true."

He steps into your house and kicks off his shoes, making himself at home. "No?"

"No," you shake your head, soft yet stern movements as you move to close the door behind him. "Not at all."

You turn around to meet him, though now, he's closed the gap between you by a foot, standing in front of you with his hands itching up towards you, making tentative movements to the sides of your face. 

His gaze remains lidded as he places his palms over either cheek, cupping you in his hands. "You mean that?"

You nod in his hold, murmuring your agreement - far too concerned about the weak sound you'd make if you spoke. 

"Yeah?" he weakly smiles, slowly leaning in towards you. 

"Yeah," you repeat, meeting him in the middle for a kiss, melting into the soft and sweet contact you've since longed for. 

He parts -barely- whispering against your lips. "Good."

His grip on your face firms as he brings you back in, kissing you more urgently this time, as if that little peck wasn't enough to satiate the need. It grows carnal, more desperate - hungrily kissing as he pushes you up against the front door. 

Your hands roam him ever so familiarly, trailing over his stubbly jaw as you hold him to you - keeping him close. You murmur a faint moan into his mouth as you feel him chub up against you, his hardening cock prodding at your lower stomach through his lounge shorts.

"Fuck," he muffles roughly between your lips, slipping a hand behind your neck - fist tightening at the root. 

"Been so long," you whisper, your voice weak as you catch your breath between breaks.

"Too fuckin' long," he adds.

He peels you from the door and walks you backwards into your living room - guiding you to the sofa within his sure hold. He keeps his lips glued to yours as he lays you down on the cushion, hovering atop as he situates himself between your spread thighs.

"Do you like these?" he asks, tugging on your pyjama bottoms.

"Yeah," you hum, snaking your hand between yourselves - reaching for his waistband.

"Alright, I'll buy'ya a new pair," he replies, voice hoarse as he slips himself from your tight grasp, sitting up on his heels. 

He places both large hands between your thighs, meeting at your crotch as he tears a hole in the fabric - giving him perfect access to your pussy.

The motion catches you by surprise, sending a deep shiver down your spine as you peek down between your thighs - seeing the frayed material right by your cunt, looking at the consequence of his desperation. 

Your chest rises and falls heavily, intense, short breaths as you peer up at him, eyes flickering over him in a way that mirrors his own. 

He slides his hand down the front of his shorts, delving into his boxers as he pulls his dick out the waistband, rolling over his length in his palm. His grip slips down to the head of his cock, thumb resting on the upperside as he guides himself towards you - parting your underwear aside with his spare hand. He slowly eases his tip into you, savouring that first initial fluttering stretch of your unprepped pussy, relishing the feeling of you needily swallowing more of him.

He strips from his hoodie and throws it aside, leaning back over you so his chest is flush up against you, hands instinctively cupping your face as he peppers your jaw in quick kisses. 

 "Fuck— I missed you," he murmurs as he slowly begins to roll his hips into you, grinding into you with easy, gentle strokes.

You guys have a lot to catch up on. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[sssammich]

day 2: romance

you can also read the fic on ao3

the rest of sctober prompts: crepe AU: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 day 19: hazy, day 22: art, day 24: enchanted, day 30: magic

--

Now, here's the thing. Lena is a reasonable woman. She's a woman of many, many means and has more money that even God knows what to do with. So she doesn't expect much, save, perhaps, for some respect and authenticity. 

But even that seems like asking for a lot tonight. Especially when she peers over her wine glass over at her date in front of her—a man who sounded perfect on paper (which, in retrospect, was probably where this slow demise of a date began): great job, good looks, decent upbringing—and knows there's clearly been a miscommunication of sorts.

His nervous energy, she can understand. His overcompensation, even more so. Yet that manifests in rude manners as he interrupts her, arrogance in not-so-subtly considering her position as a CEO, and his tired misogyny in his expectations of what his paying for dinner truly affords him.

So she waits for him to finish talking, as he's monopolized the last ten minutes talking about some financial tech start-up for fish or something or the other. He FINALLY glances at her, flashes what she can only assume is his most winning smile. Which is the only thing she was waiting for, frankly, before she scoots her chair back and subtly waves at a server who already seems to have her coat at the ready.

"Whoa-wait, where are you going? They’ve barely served us the apps."

She smiles down at him, though her eyes are sharp and narrowed. "Riveting as you may think it is to listen to you, I'm going home and having a very lovely evening with my vibrator. I believe I'll have a much more fulfilling time with it than with you."

His jaw drops slightly, sputtering out sorry excuses for words, his face going through a roller coaster journey of expressions—a considerable improvement from the smarmy smile he'd been presenting her since she first saw him. She can even see how his cheeks and ears redden at her comment, could have possibly considered it cute if he was even an ounce less of who he was. The look on his face is almost worth the stress of what little of this dinner has already cost her sanity and time. She turns to the server beside her just as he helps her shrug on her coat, his face the poster of professional decorum, except for the slight twitch from the corner of his lips that betrays him slightly. 

And just because she can, Lena rummages through her clutch and pulls out a few hundred dollar bills, where she throws a couple on the table and rolls one to insert in the server’s breast pocket. 

She leaves without a single glance back despite feeling all eyes on her.

When she exits out of the restaurant, her driver is already waiting for her at the front. She takes a deep breath and exhales before walking up to him and dismissing him for the night, telling him that she’ll find her way back just fine. She walks away with a final greeting and heads towards the direction of the park.

Lena reaches the edge of the park where she finds a slew of food trucks lining the curb. Most of them have some customers in line waiting except for the bright yellow one parked at the very end. Typically, Lena would hesitate approaching a food truck without customers as that is surely cause for concern. Yet the name ‘Love is Crepe’ seems to call to her, perhaps fitting of the night she’d just endured. 

She stands just to the side of the awning with a gaze towards the menu, determining if she should treat herself to both sweet and savory crepes. She decides she deserves to indulge herself. 

Yet when she walks up to the front counter, she realizes there’s a handwritten sign that notes: 

SOLD OUT 

THANKS AND SORRY :( 

-crepe mgmt

She can’t help the amused smile on her face even if she finds herself disappointed in not getting any crepes, after all. She’s just about to turn around when she jumps at the sound of someone yelping in surprise behind her. 

“Oh!” 

She turns around and stops in her tracks when she finds the most attractive woman she’s ever laid eyes on carrying three different bags of food from what appears to be the other food trucks. It takes her a second to process that she should speak, yet her eyes can’t help but glance at the blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, the sharp jaw, the perfect curved lips, and the blue of the woman’s eyes behind black rimmed glasses. Her gaze dips to the womans’ biceps, the t-shirt sleeves folded up to her shoulders, straining slightly under the weight of the bags she’s carrying. 

Lena clears her throat. “I—I thought you were open, but I see you’d sold out of everything.” 

Despite being the one to have been caught surprised, it’s the blonde woman who’s standing stock still in front of her, surprise slapped on her face. “You’re Lena Luthor.” 

This time, it’s her turn to be shocked. “Oh, um, yes.” 

The woman shakes her head and quickly drops the bags on one of the tables parked right in front of the truck. “Oh my golly, I’m so sorry, that’s—well that was very impolite of me. I’ve just–I’m a big fan. I, wait-no. I mean, I am. I totally am, but like, you’re you, I mean—hang on. Um, wait.” The woman then puts her hands on her waist, and positions her body so she’s properly facing Lena before taking a deep breath. “You want crepes?” 

Lena’s brows furrow in amused confusion even as she slowly nods. Something about the way this woman stumbles through her words and her movements has Lena endeared, and so she responds, a slow smile already forming on her lips. “Yes, but I see you’re sold out.” 

“Oh, right. I am, but I—” the woman pauses and puts a finger up, a frenetic energy about her, before rushing to the back of the truck. Lena hears rummaging and movement, until the woman pops her head out of the front window, crumpling the piece of paper notice as she slides the window to the side. “I can—I can make you one crepe. Like a malnourished crepe because it won’t have as many strawberries or Nutella, but I can make it. Do you still want it?” 

She’s poised to decline, not wanting to interrupt this woman’s night, but the expectant and almost eager way the woman is staring down at her from the window, hopeful and anticipating, has Lena nodding her head before she can even gather her wits about her. 

The woman is overjoyed, so Lena believes she’d given the right answer. Something warm buzzes inside of Lena when she witnesses the woman’s bright smile before she disappears from the window. 

Lena takes a seat right by where the woman’s food is, a small frown forming when she realizes she’s more than likely interrupted this woman’s dinner. Yet, the woman seems more than happy to work in her truck, so with hesitant resignation, Lena just waits. 

Before long, the woman comes out and personally puts her plate right in front of her with a set of plastic utensils wrapped in a napkin. “You didn’t have to do that,” she comments, even as her mouth salivates at the smell of the dish in front of her. 

“It was no trouble at all.” Then the woman’s eyes widened. “Oh, unless you wanted it to go. Oh man, I didn’t even ask. Did you—” 

But Lena just shakes her head. “Here’s fine.” 

The woman beams at her, and Lena briefly wonders how it feels for people in this woman's life to constantly be on the receiving end of such a bright and warm smile. Lena’s frown forms as she watches as the woman then takes her bag of food off the table. 

“Won’t you join me? Since I so rudely interrupted your dinner.” 

“But you’re Lena Luthor.”  

She smiles at that. “And you are?” 

The woman’s mouth opens, shock evident on her face, before it transforms into a smile. “Kara. You can call me Kara.” 

“Well, Kara. Won’t you join me?” 

There’s the smile again as Kara wordlessly nods, and sits herself directly across from Lena. She waits until Kara empties out all of the food from her takeout bags, the spread fully taking over the table they’re sitting on. Kara nudges the containers her way, prompting Lena to quirk a brow. 

“Please help yourself.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

She responds with a smile in kind and digs into her crepe, enjoying the flavors of her sweet crepe. “This is really quite delicious,” she offers, meaning every word. 

Kara shyly ducks her head even as she smiles proudly. “Thanks! It was slow going for a while, but my friend Nia mentioned that I should put myself in the videos so they could connect with me and not just the crepes. So I guess they’ve been able to see that I really care about the food I make and the videos have been going viral.”  

Lena tilts her head in observation, thinks to herself, I don’t think it’s just the crepes they’re looking at.  

Suddenly, Kara’s mouth drops and her cheeks redden. Belatedly, and much to Lena’s horror, she realizes that she’s said her thoughts out loud. This time, it’s her turn to cover her face. “Oh god, I’m sorry. That was—” 

“Thank you, Lena.” 

“You dropped the Luthor.” 

“I realized I’d said it twice already, I feel like I’ve hit my quota of full naming you for the day.” 

She laughs at that, though a sense of self-deprecation leaks out despite her best attempts.  “Thank you for not shunning me away even knowing who I am.” 

A crinkle of concern appears between Kara’s brows and Lena wonders, not for the last time that evening, how it feels to see that regularly. 

“The only Lena Luthor I know is the one who has tirelessly made the Children’s Hospital the best one in the country so my niece Esme can get the care that she needs. So, I’d say you’re the last person I’d shun away.” 

Kara’s stares at her intently, gratitude written all over her face. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” is all Lena says, not wanting to overstep by asking more questions. She and Kara are basically strangers, and she wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

“Besides, who shuns away pretty ladies?” Kara says with a shrug before popping an entire potsticker in her mouth. The two of them sport identical rosy cheeks when Lena catches up to Kara’s words just as Kara seems to realize exactly what she’d said. 

“Well, thank you, Kara.” 

Kara tilts her head and smiles, making a show of swallowing the potsticker that Lena giggles at, and shifting her glasses back up on her face. “Anytime, Lena.” 

She can’t help but compare the woman in front of her to the man who’d attempted to wine and dine her earlier tonight. How their eyes shared the same shade of blue, yet Lena thinks she’d happily lose herself in staring at Kara as she listens to the other woman talk about food.

She does just that when they spend the rest of their time in companionable conversation, Kara urging her to try the dishes that litter their table. Before long, the first hour rolls into one, then two, until she glances up and finds that the other food trucks are beginning to break down for the night. 

“Oh, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time,” she says when she wraps her coat tightly around her. “You now have to stay longer to clean up.” 

But Kara waves her off just as she finishes cleaning. “No! Please! You’re the one all dressed up tonight. I hope I wasn’t keeping you from anything.” 

“God, no. If anything you were saving me.” 

Lena thinks she notices Kara standing up a bit taller. “Bad date?” 

“Terrible. Perhaps romance is simply not in the cards for me.” 

“I don’t believe that,” Kara says, with a shake of her head. “You’re too amazing to not find someone who’ll appreciate you for who you are, Lena Luthor.” 

“Careful, you’ve exceeded your full naming quota.” 

“Forgive me just this once?” Kara bows her head slightly, a teasing smile on her face.

“Only if you take this.” Lena then proceeds to take out a couple hundred dollar bills and tries to offer it to Kara. But Kara covers her hand and closes it for her, the bills clutched in her fist. She is now fully aware of the warmth of Kara’s hand on top of hers, the softness of it on her skin. Now that she knows this, she’s not sure she can go back to not knowing. To not knowing who Kara is, really.

“Absolutely not! Tonight’s on me. Plus, that was not a true trademark Love is Crepe crepe, okay? I can totally do better. No, I will totally do better!” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes! Why don’t you come back tomorrow, and I’ll prove it to you.” 

Lena’s heart flutters at the idea of seeing Kara again. “I suppose I can settle for that.” 

“Good, it’s settled. So see you tomorrow?” 

“See you then.”  

She doesn’t linger for too much longer, hailing a cab and staring out the window until a waving Kara disappears from view. 

When she gets home, Lena opens her phone and calls her best friend.

“Oh, Sam. I think I’m in love.” 

“The date went well?” Sam asks incredulously from the other end of the line. 

“Oh god, no. The date was a disaster, I never wanna see that guy ever again.” 

Sam laughs. “Okay, then if not him, who? Start from the top, babe. What’s his name?” 

Lena closes her eyes, images of Kara’s beauty filling her mind. Of their dinner together, of the meandering and rich conversation they had tonight. Of the way Kara laughed with her whole body, and smiled with her whole face. 

“Well,” she begins, unable to wipe the large excited smile on her own face. “Her name is Kara.” 

[7ndipity]

Pumpkin Patch with Yoongi

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Just a lil blurb of you and Yoongi bickering while trying to pick out pumpkins

Warnings: swearing, terrible halloween puns(I’m sorry), lil suggestive

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I’m sorry it’s short and terrible, I wanted to make it longer, but my brain just would not focus(Adhd is soo not fun).(Also, I kinda wrote this with the pairing from Take a Chance on Me in mind, but it can totally be read on it’s own.)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Okay, we’re here.” He said, pulling into the parking area in front of the barn/shop.

“Yay!” You cheered, excited. “Oh, wait!”

You quickly rummaged in your bag, pulling out a pair of matching knit cat ear hats. “Put this on.” You said, handing one to him.

“Why?” He asked, eyeing you skeptically.

“Because it’s Halloween and you love me?” You offered, smiling unconvincingly.

“Do you have any evidence to support that statement?” He smirked, quirking a brow up at you.

You frowned. “Just put the damn hat on, Min.”

“Alright, fine.” He relented, pulling the knit material over his hair as he mumbled under his breath. “So bossy.”

“I thought you liked that?” You teased.

“Not in this context.” He replied.

Halloween had always been one of your favorite times of the year, and since this was you and Yoongi’s first year together as a couple, you thought it’d be a cute idea to find some little traditions to do together, like picking out pumpkins. The only part you hadn’t factored in was the amount of bickering that the two of you added to any activity.

“My shoes are getting wet.” Yoongi grumbled several minutes later as he trailed behind you through the field.

“We’ve only been out here for like ten minutes.” You said, pausing to examine a pumpkin before shaking your head and continuing on.

“Which is about five longer than this should take,” He said tiredly. “They’re all the same.”

“They are not.” You gasped, turning to look at him, offended. “If you didn’t want to do this, then why’d you agree to it?”

“Cause you asked when you had your shirt off.” He admitted. “I would’ve agreed to anything at that point.”

You flushed slightly at his bluntness, glancing around quickly to make sure no one else was close enough to hear.

“Duly noted.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with you.

As you wandered on, you couldn’t help stealing a few side-long glances at him. He looked so cute, his oversized hoodie making him look extra comfy, his hat slid slightly off center, causing the ears to droop endearingly, a small pout on his lips.

“Hey, Yoongi, are you a pumpkin?” You asked suddenly, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He looked at you, confused. “No?”

“That’s odd, because you make me so gourd damn happy.” You said, grinning at him.

He blinked at you. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Jin-hyung.”

“Oh, come on, that one was cute!” You argued, trying to make him crack a smile. “Wait, I've got another one!”

“Agh, please don’t.” He whined, covering his face.

“Why? I’m just trying to pumpkin-spice things up between us!” You snickered. “I can’t help it that I think you’re so bewitching!”

“Please, for the love of God, stop talking.” He cringed, ears tinting red in embarrassment.

“Fine, you sourpuss.” You caved, turning your attention back to the pumpkins.

“I like this one.” You finally announced, hefting one up into your arms.

“Great, now we can go.” He said, offering to carry it for you.

“Do you want to stop for dinner on the way back?” You asked as you walked.

“Nah, I’d rather go home and rattle your bones.” He said low enough for just you to hear, making you stop short as you looked at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?!”

“What? I thought you liked puns.” He smirked.

“I-” You blinked, caught off guard. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, let’s go, grumpy cat.” You grinned.

“Aaand you ruined the mood.” He said.

“What mood? We’re in the middle of a field!” You gestured wildly, finally managing to make him laugh.

“Alright, I’m sorry, let’s go and I’ll actually set the mood.” He said, smiling at you.

“You better.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[intelligentbees]

“I still hate you,” Tony mutters, voice shaky and entirely unconvinced while his hand expertly unbuckles the clasps of the uniform he designed so carefully, months and months and months ago.

“I know,” Steve responds gruffly. His beard scratches Tony’s jaw as those perfect teeth run down the thin skin of his neck, trace his jugular. His hands are rough iron clamps against each side of Tony’s beautifully tailored Versace two-piece. The fabric will be ruined beyond repair in less than ten minutes - Tony could bet his fortune on it.

They’ve played this stupid game before. Every time, Tony swears it’ll be the last.

Steve hitches him up onto the kitchen counter of the ridiculous New Jersey safehouse, and Tony goes willingly, yanking Steve into the open spread of his legs. This is the closest Steve’s gotten to New York since he first read those damned accords. The closest he can get to home is some 1965-styled kitchenette with pictures of old-timey adverts lining the walls and a microwave that’d probably irradiate you if you went near it.

It’s wrong- all of it. But there’s no changing it. Steve made his choice long ago, and Tony hates him for it. He should remember that. He should tell Steve that again.

“Fuck, God, Steve,” is what comes out instead, breathed against the other man’s mouth. Tony’s whole body is hot, taught, desperate, and he tugs the top half of Steve’s uniform off his torso. Steve spray painted over the colours- the whole thing is dark now, void of any trace of what it used to be. Tony hates that too.

“Tony,” Steve says, like there’s more to it- a name at the beginning of a sentence which never comes out. He clasps his teeth over Tony’s bottom lip, pushes his hands under Tony’s rapidly-wrinkling shirt and brushes his thumbs over each nipple, rubbing quick circles. The movement pulls another noise from Tony’s throat.

Fuck- the man knows him.

Steve steadies himself for a moment to catch his breath, nose brushing against Tony’s. Tony tries not to look into his eyes, whenever they do this. He’s never been good at seeing Steve’s soul - the one he never tries to hide, to mask. He’s not like Tony, you see. Everything he does, he does earnestly and from the heart.

The decision he made to leave with Bucky - to keep the culprit of Tony’s parents’ deaths a secret from him - they’d both come from that same heart. Hence, no eye contact. Tony has no desire to see how truly insignificant the space he takes up in Steve’s soul was.

Except now.

He does it without meaning to- just catching sight of those infuriating baby blues as he leans in for another messy kiss. Error number 1.

Error number 2 is not shutting his damn eyes and grabbing Steve’s dick like he normally does.

And error number 3 is the worst. Error number 3 is when he catches sight of Steve’s suddenly agonised expression, doesn’t ignore it, and instead asks “what?” Thus inviting conversation. They don’t come here for that. They come here to fuck eachother’s brains out for a night and then keep playing their cat-and-mouse chase across the globe as if anyone in a position of authority actually fucking believes it.

Steve goes perfectly still for a moment. Then he swallows. “This… this really makes you miserable, doesn’t it.”

He doesn’t frame it like a question.

Tony looks up at him, breathing hard. “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not looking ecstatic while getting groped by my ex boyfriend in a place that’s decked out like a prop house in a nuclear testing site. Would you prefer for me to giggle jovially while you fuck me amongst the dust and cobwebs?”

They’d used to have sex that was so full of love. This is how Tony always talks to Steve, now.

Steve shakes his head, a minute, grieving little thing. Tony feels the man’s breath skating across his face- feels the warmth of his bare chest, his shoulders, pressing against Tony.

“I thought…” he begins, then trails off for a moment as Tony skirts his hands down his chest, unlatches his belt. “I thought this made you happy. At least a little bit, even if you didn’t admit it. But it doesn’t. ”

Of course it doesn’t. But it’s all I have left of you.

“You think I’m coming here to find happiness? Jesus Steve. I’m coming here for tension relief,” Tony says, because he just can’t be truthful- he did his best when they were together, he really did, and it all failed anyway. Besides: Steve was never as truthful as Tony had always so fervently believed him to be either. “How about we both just stop talking and get down to that part.”

He gets his hands all the way to Steve’s boxers before Steve stops him- a gentle yet utterly unmoving grip. When Tony looks up at him again, Steve shakes his head. He’s grey in the face- if Tony didn’t know better now, he’d even say heartbroken.

“Tony, I…” Steve’s struggling for the words and he looks so beautiful, so so beautiful, just the same as the very first time Tony laid eyes on his photograph in the SHIELD folder he’d hacked his way into. “I didn’t realise you felt that way. Or maybe I did, but just didn’t want to acknowledge it because I was selfish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this with you. To you.” Steve steps away jerkily, half his body lagging while the other half pulls, as if warring with his own system. His pale skin is patchy, covered in faint marks where Tony has grabbed him. “I thought we were both doing this for enjoyment, but you’re not, and so I can’t. It’s cruel.”

Tony realises what Steve is implying here. His heart - what’s left of the poor thing anyway - convulses in panic, and he stumbles off the counter. “I’m not a fucking dog,” he snaps, “I make my own choices.”

“You don’t even look at me,” Steve’s voice breaks then. “I wished more than anything that you’d look at me. But I just saw it, then, when you did.”

“Saw what?”

They’re facing off against one another now - it’s like they can’t stop themselves. They have to be on either side of the argument, they can never just agree, no matter how hard they both want to. Tony hates and hates and hates.

“Your eyes don’t lie to me, Tony.” Steve’s voice is soft, and he says it like that alone is enough. “Your mouth does. And you don’t want this.”

“See, do you see what you’re doing here, again?” Tony steps forward, smashes his finger against the place where the star used to sit proudly on Steve’s chest. “You’re making an executive decision about how I feel, as to what I need, when you don’t have that right. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me!”

“But you never do what’s best for you!” Steve’s hands flail helplessly. “You do what’s best for everyone else, or what you think you deserve, and you never think about how it’s going to hurt—“

“I DESERVED TO KNOW MY PARENTS WERE MURDERED, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

Tony was supposed to be making his way to an orgasm right about now - instead he suddenly feels so angry he can hardly breathe. Fucking typical. He just had to go and open his mouth, didn’t he?

He glares at the man who tore his heart out over a year ago. Steve looks back, his expression shattered. Tony feels angrier still when he realises that he’s never going to be able to see this person in front of him and not love him. He’s trying so hard, right now, and he can’t. Even after all this. He can’t find it in him.

“Just fuck me,” Tony says, and it comes out more exhausted than demanding.

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Right. Steve’s made up his mind about what’s best for tony. Again. Was it ever going to go any other way?

Sometimes, the tiredness goes so deep that Tony starts to feel it in his bones. His therapist says it’s psychosomatic- that bones don’t actually creak and groan like wooden doors in abandoned houses. Tony begs to differ.

“If we stop now, this is the last time you’ll ever see me,” he says, hoping, even now, that maybe something will change. That maybe for once, Steve will just put him first.

It’s a pipe dream. Tony comes to that realisation as soon as Steve shakes his head. Stupid.

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Steve’s voice is hoarse. Like each word is painful. Tony wishes that were true - in reality, he doesn’t doubt Steve is just wary of the fight his words will bring - the argument that’ll erupt out of Tony’s mouth in response.

But Tony’s done fighting. It’s a losing battle. Always has been.

He looks at Steve. Nods.

He walks out of the door without another word.

[ateezscupid]

Hi, can i request sub san using aphrodisiacs?

omg omgomg sub sannie an aphrodisiacs, i went ham writing this. i started writing this at 11 at night so if there are mistakes i’m so sorry 😭

1:00𝗮𝗺 ✦ 𝖼.𝗌𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

plot - san is unusually horny at midnight.

genre + warnings - smut & fluff, sub!san, dom!reader, somnophilia, handjob, praising, begging, san is super whiny, he’s a cute lil baby in this oh my gosh

wc - 1.22k

tags - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

currently 12am. san has been twisting and turning in his sleep for hours, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear occasionally and poking you nonstop. and it’s been like this since…ten o’clock.

you didn’t understand why he was asking like this, nor did you want to ask since you knew you’d fall asleep during his explanation, so you ignored him and continued sleeping. though, san has been acting like this all day. he’s been super touchy and clingy with you.

not only that, but he’s been tired. you counted a good 34 times where san has said he was tired. and of course, you didn’t bother listening to his explanation, so you went to bed.

unusual behaviors like this were normal from him. but this, this was a whole new level of unusual.

now you two were laying in bed. you were pass out asleep on your side, possibly drooling from the really good dream you were having and san was, well, he was awake trying to go back to bed.

“why did i do that,” he whispers to himself. “fuck, yunho said it wasn’t gonna be that strong!”

he was clutching onto his pajama pants for dear life trying to control his urges but he couldn’t. his nerves were going crazy, everything in his body was going off as if there were thousands of alarms in his body. he was so fidgety he couldn’t stay still.

san recently tried out this aphrodisiac drink that yunho gave him. san expected it to not work, just like all of the other ones yunho had given him, but this one was working like the rent was due. he was so hard, he couldn’t concentrate on daily tasks and it became unbearable to even move his legs. he’s been like this since ten in the morning, and you were busy working all day. san didn’t know what to do.

all he knew was his cock was pulsing, almost breaking the zipper in his pants from earlier. he wanted to jerk off so badly, but because of your rules, he couldn’t. his only other option was to ask you, which he didn’t want. you’d most likely say no and would tease him all day.

tonight, you were wearing the necklace. the necklace that told him it was okay for him to touch you if you were sleeping. a mutual agreement you two made. if one was wearing the star necklace, it was okay for the other to touch if they were already in bed. it was awkward at first, but the two of you got used to it after a few weeks.

you noticed san acting strange today, but didn’t want to bring it up. overwhelming him was the last thing you wanted to do. you only found out about the aphrodisiacs when you saw yunho say something about in the groupchat.

so tonight, you were gonna let san do whatever he wanted if it meant he could relieve himself. anything for your sannie.

san scoots behind you and gently moves your leg, squeezing your thigh a bit and pulling down his pajama pants. he was leaking like a broken faucet, red and veiny and pulsing. he needed to touch you, he felt like he was going crazy.

he moves closer to your body and grabs ahold of his cock, hissing from his own hand as he slid himself between your legs. he accidentally moaned, covering his mouth afterward then beginning to push and pull his hips.

god, your thighs were so soft. he loved feeling them. his favorite thing about them was whenever he’d eat you out and it became to much for you, you’d squeeze your pretty thighs around his head and he loved it. being crushed by his goddess was the last thing on his bucket list.

san wraps his arms around your body and rests his forehead on your shoulder blade, pushing and pulling his hips faster with small whines leaving his parted, plump lips. he needed your touch so bad. he was desperate.

“please wake up…” he whispered in your ear. “p-please, it hurts.”

your eye opens when you feel him lick your neck. his tongue rolling against your skin while his cock plunged back and forth between your thighs would’ve made you pounce on him if it were morning.

“sannie, did you drink an entire bottle of aphro-juice?” you say with a croaked voice. he nods his head quickly against your shoulder.

“i-i wanna cum s-so bad, please. p-please let me cum, miss.” he whimpered into your soft skin, lips grazing your shoulder.

“i-i can’t h-help it, fuck—!” he moans incredibly loud when you clamped your thighs down on his length. he scratches at your stomach, cum spurting from his tip and onto the bed sheets. now you had to get up. though, not after you had your fun with him.

“okay, san, okay. i’ll help you.” you sir up, rubbing your eyes a bit since you were still tired. you turn to see the blanket pulled off of him and his back against the bed. his pretty orbs staring into yours, glossy and making him look absolutely adorable.

“you want me to touch you, sannie?” you ask as you run your nails over his stomach. “you want miss to make you feel better?”

“y-yes please.” san pouts. “i haven’t been able to do anything all day, please touch me.”

“i am, it’s okay. sit up and get in front of me.” you say while scooting all the way back, your back against the headboard. he crawls toward you and does what you ask of him, his back against your chest and his eyes looking up at you.

you bring your hand down and start to stroke him slowly. immediately, san grabs onto you. both hands holding onto your arms as he moans. his moans grew louder once your hand accelerated in speed, his hips bucking up into your hand erratically trying to chase himself orgasm.

“fuck, yesss!” he moaned, eyes shut tightly. “p-please let me cum, i really need to, please please please!”

you smile at him and continue your actions, stopping a few times to rub your palm on his tip and then control to twist and turn your hand on his cock. his body shifted against yours, his face now hiding in your arm as he felt himself getting closer.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby,” you whisper, your free hand patting his chest gently. “you didn’t touch yourself all day, this is your reward.”

“oh m—fucking yes, s’good, so so so good, yes!” san whined louder, body shaking and tensing in your arms.

“is my sannie gonna cum?” you ask. at first there was no answer, he was so fucked out. “answer, sannie, are you gonna cum?”

“y-yes—!” he strains.

“what’s the magic word?”

“p-please miss, can i—c-can i please—oh my fucking god, oh my, i’m—i’m gonna-” san’s body froze entirely, hands pulling at the bed sheets underneath you and almost puncturing a hole in them as he released in your hand.

“shh, good boy, sannie. good good boy.” you spoke softly in his ear as you helped him ride out his orgasm, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“you did so good for me, baby.”

“love you, i love you, so so so much.” he slurred. “love you so much.”

[jupiter-soups]

guess I should've known from the look on your face

part one of begging for you to take my hand. part two here

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, friends -> enemies -> lovers (kinda)

summary: your tempestous relationship with joel was put to the test after a fuck up on patrol that left you embarrassed and overly defensive. despite every urge to exacerbate the problem, you tried your best to make the most of the situation and get along....mostly.

word count: 7.5k

Despite the ear-splitting gnashing of teeth next to your face and the painful clawing at the raw skin of your décolletage, you couldn’t help that in the back of your mind all you could think was: You fucking moron, you’re going to die in the most embarrasing way possible. Even fear seemed to have left you, as you struggled in the choking grip of the runner in front of you that was desperately trying to sink its teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. All that remained was adrenaline, humiliation, and the sinking feeling that if you were to meet your demise in this moment, it would be Joel Miller, of all people, that found your torn apart frame on the floor. Joel Miller, who had expressly warned you to stay where you were until he returned from checking the back of the building for intruders. Joel Miller, who somehow always made you feel like an incompetent child. 

When you had first approached the roadside gas station and small bait shop that was the destination for your current patrol route, both of you had slowed down and pulled out your weapons at the sight of a beat up pick up truck haphazardly parked across the verge separating the gas pumps from the road. This was new, not having been reported by the previous patrol duo. Joel quickly assumed the position of the team leader.

“Stay here. I’ll check the back entrance,” Joel muttered as quietly as he could, still ensuring that he could be heard over the whistling wind from the snow that had been picking up speed since you first departed from the Jackson gates. As the snow crunched under his boots with each receding step, you were seething. 

The audacity of this man who had spent the last ten months ignoring you to immediately try and give you orders, you brooded silently. You weren’t even supposed to be here, for God’s sake. It was the unfortunate result of poor scheduling over the Christmas holidays, as well as the skilled persuasion by your closest friend, Maria, that you were even stuck on this patrol to begin with. Sure, it was one of the shorter journeys for patrol pairs, one that only required travel on foot, but that was still a miserable three hours with Joel Miller. Three whole hours of curt answers and second-guessing your decisions. So, the instant he was out of sight, you tucked away your gun into your waistband and folded your arms across your chest, rubbing your ungloved hands against the sides of your arms to try and create some warmth.

The natural instinct in you to piss him off outweighed any logic that you’d previously believed you’d been in abundance of, as you made that decision to ignore his instructions so flippantly as soon as he had turned his back to you. Besides, the truck was clearly empty, the store shutters were undisturbed, and there were no tracks to be seen in the snow that had persistently been coating the floor for days now.

The irritation that only Joel Miller seemed to inspire had clearly blinded you to your next bad decision, as you spotted something through the windshield of the truck. A perfectly intact Spider-Man bobblehead, right there for the taking on the dashboard. Ellie would love that. You exhaled hot air into your icy hands to warm them up as you plodded along to the car, already picturing the teens’ excited face at the impromptu gift. The next few moments seemed to pass in bullet time as you heard it within seconds of leaning into the enclosed space of the front seat. The wind was no longer able to muffle the pained guttural groans.

Grotesque and dripping with congealed blood was an emaciated looking runner, face sunken in and ghoulish. It practically scampered up towards you from the floor of the backseat, moving in jerky convulsions while its teeth bit at the empty air in anticipation. You jumped back from where you had been leaning into the car, arm outstretched for the bobblehead, and your heel promptly made contact with a patch of ice. Your ass hit the ground, shooting a sharp pain through your tailbone that you had no choice but to ignore as you attempted to scramble back up to your feet. 

The runner dove head first out from the backseat, the snapping of its jaw seeming to lead its body faster than any of its limbs, giving you the opportunity to send a hard kick directly into its head. Stumbling back up, you were able to grab the handle of your trusty switchblade in the few seconds it took for the beast to reorient itself. 

With a quick dart forward, you plunged the knife into the closest spot that would have any sort of impact on its mobility: its kneecap. At least some of your survival instincts were still in place. You made sure to wrench the knife from side to side, a visceral squelching sound being emitted from the tearing ligaments. In a different life the sound probably would have turned your stomach, but now you were just flooded with gratitude that you actually remembered to sharpen the old blade before leaving.

“Jooooeellll!” You felt the scream for help rip out of your throat, and immediately regretted it despite the dire situation. He would not exactly be thrilled at your blatant disregard for his instructions.

The continued effort to stumble back while avoiding any more patches of ice was proving to be successful, until you felt your back slam painfully against the cold metal store shutters behind you. Fuck. You had miscalculated your distance and had nowhere to turn, despite the monster hobbling towards you being slowed down by its new injury. These creatures didn’t feel pain, so regardless of the fact that you could see the white of bone jutting out from the torn flesh of its knee, it continued to progress forward.

Desperately trying to lift your knife from your side while holding the full weight of the beast back with one arm, you were unable to stop yourself from thinking about what Joel would think of you for your mistakes. The blustery air did nothing to cool the heat in your cheeks as you continued to struggle, hating yourself for even thinking of someone like Joel in the face of literal death.

As you were beginning to lose hope, arms shaking from the effort of holding the runner back, strong hands suddenly appeared from behind its shoulders to drag it straight to the ground. You heard a sickening pop as the partially torn leg finally gave out after being heaved backwards at such a strange angle. You were practically hyperventilating, finally feeling time speed up again as you watched Joel take his boot and slam it into the head of the runner, over and over and over again, until all that was left was a puddle of viscera under his foot. The creature was clearly fresh, still more human than mushroom, and pieces of bone and brain matter decorated the floor. You stared, unable to tear your eyes away from the haunting sight. 

Joel was breathing heavily as he finally ceased his brutalisation of the corpse, seemingly having decided that what was left of the zombie would probably not be able to get back up. He slowly looked over at you, undisguised rage clouding his handsome features, and he clamped his jaw shut.  Any embarrassment that you were still feeling morphed into pure, unbridled shame under the weight of his disdainful look.

“I told you one fucking thing.” Is all he deigned to say. You were glad as you could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears, anyway.

Refusing to give you a second look, he shifted the entirety of his attention to unlocking and lifting the metal roller blocking the door, making it apparent to you that there had been no other threat in the area.

Something like anger and sadness both bubbled up in you simultaneously, and you kept your eyes trained on the ground as you walked to avoid giving him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. As he locked the door behind you both and began looking around the store shelves for something, you pressed your freezing fingers against your face as subtly as you could, trying to physically cool off the burning sensation in your cheeks. 

You weren’t a child. You weren’t an idiot. The judgement of this man should not have been hurting you as much as it was, but as much as you insisted that you hated him, some semblance of respect and even care for the man still existed deep within you.

A quick glance up to where he was standing reminded you of something that you had somehow spotted outside, despite the carnage. His boots. Green laces. You were the one to find them for him, ten months ago.

His incessant muttering and pacing were really starting to piss you off. Fine, you made a mistake. Fine, you technically could have died. You were already mortified because of it. Did he really have to keep exhaling so dramatically and making as much noise as possible with each empty crate he moved in his not-so-subtle attempt at finding the supplies that he should definitely know the location of? All you wanted was for him to cease his incessant pacing around the dusty shelves, especially since he started to make deliberate eye contact with you over them to send you withering glares.

“Are you done?” You found yourself asking sarcastically from where you were perched on the long disconnected chest freezer pushed against the right wall. You had been fidgeting restlessly with your fingers since you took your seat, trying to calm the slight shake in your hands from the leftover adrenaline.

He lifted his head up from where he now stood, flipping through the worn pages of the log book on the counter. As annoyed as you were, it was hard to deny the way something in your chest still jumped with each brief moment of eye contact.

“Excuse me?” He asked with an exasperated tone, almost as if each word he spoke was physically exhausting him.

“I said,” You finally hopped down from where you were sitting and watching him sulk, and slowly started to take a few cautious steps towards him. A loud creak reverberated out from the rickety old wooden floorboards with each step as you closed the distance between the two of you.

“Are you done? You know, with the whole I'm Joel Miller, I’ve never made a mistake in my life act.” You drawled with an exaggerated Texan accent in your poor imitation of him, feeling emboldened by his increasingly frustrated look. “I fucked up, I know that. You can go right ahead and relax, you’ve already made it very clear that you disapprove.”

He straightened up in one swift movement and threw the pen down against the counter, hands coming down to rest on his hips. Suddenly you felt like a child about to be reprimanded by a teacher.

“Y'know, you’re bein’ awful ungrateful for someone that I could’ve just left there to die.”

It was so typical of him to insinuate that you weren’t as capable or strong as he was, despite the fact that when Joel first arrived in Jackson, you had been the one to show him the ropes. That is, of course, before Joel summarily decided that he no longer wanted to take instruction from you.

It had been a long ten months since that day, and your relationship had become practically non-existent, if not tense and uncomfortable in the few situations you were still forced to interact in. The bond you had built with Ellie meant that there were many days that you had to see him during mornings when you promised to walk her to the schoolhouse. Joel would be sure to give you a polite nod, his Southern manners enduring regardless of the change in your relationship, to which you would roll your eyes or just simply ignore him.

Maria, your closest friend in Jackson, would regularly invite you to dinner with her and Tommy, usually choosing not to warn you that the older Miller brother would be making an appearance. It would take all of your strength to suppress the urge to cuss Joel out at the slightest infraction, knowing that Tommy would be disappointed at how quickly your friendship had disintegrated. 

Truthfully, you were well aware of just how petty and immature you were being. You just couldn’t help yourself when you thought about how good things had been before he made his choice to rebuff you. Your friendship had been easy, and caring, and you had even started to feel…things that you hadn’t ever felt for someone before. Pettiness made it easier to shove those feelings away, even if you knew it wasn’t exactly helping your case that you were definitely, totally, unaffected by his rejection.

You had reached the cracked acrylic counter separating you, and you tried to ignore the way his gaze remained trained onto your face as you approached. The quiet anger was visible in his eyes, like he couldn’t even believe your defensiveness when it was so obvious that you were in the wrong. You slammed a fist straight down on the counter, effectively shutting down the part of your brain that would always lose focus at the mere sight of his deep, brown eyes, angry or otherwise. The sharp pain radiating through your hand acted as the physical reminder you needed to keep your anger burning for him to see, rather than letting it falter under the power of his eyes studying you.

“Please,” you rolled your eyes dramatically, “I had the situation firmly under control. I mean, thank you, obviously, it’s not like swooping in like that didn’t help, but don’t act like I wasn’t a second away from killing that thing myself.”

Joel continued to watch you with an incredulous expression across his face, before he chose to merely scoff in response. 

“Whatever you say, doll," he said in that low, dismissive tone that you were well acquainted with, before picking the pen back up to continue writing his note in the logbook. 

The trait you had grown to hate the most in him was his dismissiveness. As if you weren’t even worthy of his anger, like you were just an incompetent child that he could be done with whenever he chose. It was a trait that was apparently reserved just for you. No matter what you would say to push his buttons, to even get a negative reaction from him, his response was to shut you down and not engage. It exasperated you that that hurt more than if he just yelled at you.

“God, you are the fucking worst, Miller. I’m not just saying anything, alright? I think most people would agree that it was an accurate assessment of the situation. What, do I need to be so fucking touched by your heroism that I’m on my knees with gratitude?” You paused before starting to stammer as you realised the unintended double meaning of what you just said. He clearly also heard the innuendo, if the tightened grip on the pen in his fist was any indication. “I-I mean, like, you’re not a God or…whatever… where I would need to beg for forgiveness at your feet! I fucked up, and you helped, but I would have been fine either way!”

His face betrayed no emotions, just letting you rant at him. You were running out of steam quickly from his lack of response, and your mouth grew dry as you realised that he really had no intentions of participating in your little outburst. It left you, as always, to be the one making a fool of themselves. 

“Well, say something!” You insisted, shoving the book out from under his hand, in an attempt to get him to look up from where he was staring. “Say what you really think of me Miller, say why you always have to make me feel like I’m a fuck up.”

He finally moved to slowly close the logbook and place it back under the counter where it belonged, letting you stand there with your chest heaving in anger that was probably disproportionate to the situation. Joel finally looked back down at your face.

Something in his eyes took you off guard. It felt different to how he had ever looked at you before, almost heavy. In your peripheral vision you could see his hand shift across the counter top, gently tracing his index finger across one of the cracks in the acrylic while his eyes slowly scanned over your facial features. They finally settled on your eyes, and you could tell that any trace of visible anger you had in your face had faded away in anticipation for what he was about to say.

‘You could have died. Y’know that right?’ His tone seemed somehow defeated for even having to say the words.

You shifted on your feet uncomfortably as his eyes remained locked on yours, as if he was trying to make you understand something he was saying, something deeper than just the few words he had used. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your slightly torn shirt as you looked for words. Why did he seem almost…hurt at the thought of something happening to you? Anger or even disappointment would have been explainable, but this was indecipherable to you.

A loud crack echoed through the room suddenly, as some debris outside clanged against metal shutters from the wind. The spell was broken, as you both jumped in place at the disturbance. You decided to take the opportunity to take a small, stabilising, step back.

The only conclusion that you were able to come to about his statement was that he felt guilty. Maybe he thought that you were under his responsibility while you patrolled together, and that he somehow failed? You immediately balked at the thought of Joel somehow feeling responsible for you, as if he thought you couldn’t handle it outside of the walls by yourself.

“I know that I could have died”’ You swallowed bitterly. 

You tap the hand still on the counter against the grimy plastic a few times, deliberating whether you should add something else but deciding against it at the last second.

And yet, as you finally walked past him into the staff room at the back of the store, it slipped out anyway.

“As if that would even matter to you.”

Pushing open the door with some effort, thanks to the rusted hinges, you were greeted with the sight of the supplies that Joel had been working oh-so-diligently at finding, sitting in plain sight on one of two metal storage shelves. The old ham radio that was the reason for you entering the room sat on the small table that took up the corner of the room. 

Before reaching to grab the mic, you paused for a second and leaned back against the shut door, taking in a few deep, calming breaths that evaded you earlier. You hated how easily he was able to bring you to anger, how quickly your face would burn with indignation while he was able to remain as unaffected as always. Whatever you had done to inspire this distaste for you must have been unforgivable, given how it seemed to persist enough that he wouldn’t even be able to spend the effort to argue with you. 

As you gathered yourself you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting back to your somewhat brief, yet impactful friendship with Joel.

He had shown up just over a year ago, Ellie in tow, and you had immediately accepted them with open arms. You were one of the lucky ones, finding Jackson with your two siblings while you were still in your mid twenties. Having almost ten years of safety and community was enviable to many of those who showed up in Jackson. It was your awareness of this fact that encouraged you to work harder and longer hours than the vast majority of those tasked with the safety of Jackson. It was the least you could do, after all,  and if you were able to do anything that would spare the added trauma for those that had barely scraped their way into safety, you would do so with a smile. 

Joel and Ellie weren’t the first to arrive at the gates  hardened and traumatised at the brutality beyond the gates, and you pitied them. It didn’t come from a place of patronization. They were both clearly strong, physically and emotionally, for surviving what they had. But watching the weary look in their eyes at the comforts you had begun to take for granted had you wishing that the world had been kinder to them. 

By the end of the first week, Tommy insisted that you take Joel on as a patrol partner. He felt that Joel making a friend could soften him up a bit, maybe even break down a couple of the walls that locked out everyone but Tommy and Ellie. Besides, he teased Joel, who else was patient enough to teach an old man like him the proper way to do things? 

You soon found yourself spending all of your spare time with him and Ellie. Between instructing Joel about how to most effectively utilise their horses when facing small groups of raiders, to lounging on their couch as Ellie demanded that he let her get a tattoo for the millionth time, the two became fixtures in your life. As always, Joel’s answer would be a firm not until you’re eighteen to which Ellie would stomp off to the garage, leaving you both chuckling in her wake. 

Joel appeared to like your presence. The one-word answers he had given you at the start or your relationship quickly shifted into full conversations. He always furrowed his brow with put-on disapproval when you tried to teach him your lesson of the week, before, like clockwork, admitting that your methods weren’t too shabby. He even regularly took your advice when it came to Ellie, valuing your input that Ellie was old enough to rebel a little bit. 

Ellie had been so grateful when he finally allowed her to resume hanging out with her new friends following the weed incident, that she gave both of you a huge bear hug. The smile gracing Joel’s face for the rest of the day made your knees feel weak, especially whenever he directed it at you in gratitude for your advice. The embarrassed laugh that followed when you teased him about his own teenage years, courtesy of a drunk Tommy babbling at you one evening, resulted in you needing to grip onto the kitchen counter next to you for strength. 

The third month of your friendship brought with it disapproving shakes of the head from Maria everytime she caught you looking at him for a second too long. You would promptly shrug and make a confused face to indicate that she was the one being weird for even implying that you might have been getting attached.

Family dinners and boozy evenings in the Tipsy Bison continued on a regular basis. Joel was still himself. Gruff and slightly mean towards anyone that wasn’t Ellie or Tommy, but he would laugh at your jokes. Really laugh, in a way that made warmth radiate through your chest and into your fingertips. The elbow nudges that Tommy would give to you in response were a lot less accusatory than Maria’s looks, merely appreciating that Joel had somebody to make him laugh. Ellie had been the one to change him, letting Joel give himself permission to feel joy again, but damn if it didn’t make Tommy relieved to see Joel allow himself that with other people too.

Whenever you would find small things outside the wall that you thought he could use, he would accept with a small smile, rather than immediately rejecting it with a short “I have everythin’ I need.”

Even on days that he wouldn’t be on patrol with you, you would find him at the stables, just coincidentally with an extra thermos of coffee in hand despite his insistence that he just had to check in with the stable workers.

It was these small moments that made you realise that you were falling for him. As much as you wanted to shy away from those feelings, wanting to avoid the potential awkwardness of rejection, you had almost convinced yourself that he was starting to feel the same way. There was something about the way his hand lingered when he boosted you onto your horse, or when he would wrap an arm around you for warmth the second you dared to shiver in his presence.

This delusion came crashing down one summer evening five months into your friendship, as you entered the Tipsy Bison and were immediately pulled aside by Tommy, before you even had a chance to raise a hand in a wave at the table where Joel sat with Ellie and her friend, Cat. Tommy quietly explained to you in the corner of the room that you were no longer patrolling with Joel, effective immediately. He grimaced at your attempt at protest, and even more so when you asked when he was going to tell Joel. The immediate suspicion at this reaction was quickly confirmed when you looked over Tommy’s shoulder at Joel, who was watching the pair of you intently before quickly shifting to look back at the teens sitting in front of him. His face said it all. This was his choice.

You decided to let Tommy off the hook with a quiet, “I understand,” before stalking out of the bar, shoving past the multiplying crowd that tried to funnel inside. 

After a few days of trying and failing to catch him alone between shifts on patrol, you were finally able to grab Joel by the arm and physically pull him aside on his porch as he tried to enter his home late one evening. His refusal to even look at you acted as the fuel you needed to begin your aggressive diatribe.

‘What the fuck, Joel?” You asked, unable to stop your leg from bouncing while you stood. 

“Did you need something?” Was his curt response, face hard and so deeply unlike the way he would typically look at you.

“Why did you want to switch partners? Did I do something wrong?” The wobble in your voice betrayed the hurt you had tried to tuck away inside of you, and you suddenly felt incredibly silly for confronting him. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me? I was having dinner with you and Ellie literally the night before. And you’ve been avoiding me since then.” 

He seemed to think through his response carefully before speaking. The warm brown eyes that you were accustomed to were almost black, and his brows were tightly furrowed as he spoke. “Thought it’d be easier to get Tommy to pass the message along. He’s always been the more cordial type. Didn’ think it needed to be a whole thing.” 

He started to unlock his front door, back turning to you as he continued.

“I jus’ felt that things were getting a little too cosy over here. I know what I need to know when patrolling, and I sure as hell don’t need any more hand holding from someone who’s barely known a life that wasn’ all…soft and easy.”

The door opened to the dark hallway and he stepped in and grabbed something from the console table by the door. It was your purple fleece blanket, the one that you, Joel, and Ellie had been sitting under just a few nights ago while watching one of Joel’s favourite westerns. He shoved it towards your hands. “There, been meanin’ to get that back to you. No need to drag this out any longer.”

Your jaw clenched as you stared at the blanket, quickly snatching it from him as the embarrassment flooded your body. How could you have let yourself think that he actually wanted you here with him? 

“Y’know what, Joel. Fuck you.” You said with a sniff. You quickly turned and walked away, refusing to give him an opportunity to respond. 

After throwing the soft blanket in the coat closet of your home haphazardly, you decided to head straight to the Bison for a strong drink. The first good looking man with brown eyes and broad shoulders that you saw ended up taking you home, in the first of your many attempts to extricate your feelings from Joel.

A scraping noise from the other room brought you back, reminding you that you had a task at hand, and with a click of the button on the small handheld mic, you spoke.

“Jackson, this is the bait and tackle shop, checking in.” While you waited for a response from Jackson, you sat on an old stool and angrily picked at the loose threads hanging from the ripped hem of your shirt. Stupid Miller, making you feel inferior and indebted to him. Not even giving you the decency of fighting with you. 

At least a conversation with Alfred, the kindly old man who took the late shift for the radio office in Jackson, always made you feel better. His old war stories of encrypting and sending radio signals got you through many lonely evenings at the Tipsy Bison, and he had become sort of a grandpa-like figure to you.

“Hey there, birdie, we hear ya.” You heard some paper moving, as he shuffled through to find the appropriate area map. “Snow’s getting pretty bad out here, it’s looking like you’re going to need to buckle down and wait it out for the morning. It’ll be a longer walk than usual with the way the wind is whipping up the snow.” No, no, nope. Not happening.

You bolted up and leaned over the table with the radio, as if it was possible that you had merely heard him wrong and getting closer to the speaker would fix things. 

“No, Alf, it’ll be fine, I can’t stay here overnight with-’’ You cut yourself off, suddenly aware of how loud you were talking and let out a long suffering sigh. “It’s just. The snow’s not that bad, we’ll probably be fine walking back.”

Alfred makes some deliberation noises, unnecessarily keeping his mic on the whole time as if he thought it would make you feel better that he was actually considering it, before finally responding.

“I don’t know, kid…I would feel guilty if you froze to death out there. I know you don’t get along too well with that Miller boy.” Alfred hesitates once again, before sighing. “I’m sorry, dove, I can’t let you walk in this weather.”

You groaned dramatically into the microphone, rubbing your spare hand across your eyes wearily. With a quick peek at the shut door in front of you to check for shadows through the frosted glass that might indicate that Joel is listening, you lowered your tone to what seemed like a sufficiently quiet level, and continued. 

“I just. I fu-”  you paused, remembering the old man's dislike for sailor talk. “I made a mistake. Everything's fine, no one is hurt! Just. He's doing that thing where he makes me feel like an idiot. And it just sucks because it’s like I proved him and his stupid doubts about me right. I hate when he’s right.”

“Birdie, you know that you're not an idiot. You do the same job as him, and I can tell you from experience that you don't call back to Jackson with any more issues on the road than he does. Who cares what that silly boy thinks about you? More importantly, are you going to let it get in the way of doing a good job?”

You let a small smile pass onto your face. He knew you well, and your bruised ego for the earlier mishap was already painful enough without adding any more unprofessionalism into the mix. People in Jackson relied on you, and you wouldn’t let a man who clearly didn’t think about you more than he needed to to get into your head.

“You’re right, Alf. If you say we need to hang out here overnight, we can do that.” You made sure to shake off any remaining angst that had uncharacteristically been plaguing you since you first got given this job, and tried to become the person that people in Jackson knew you as. “Just to confirm, we will be utilising the emergency supplies here, so please note down that the food, water, and oil for the lamps will need replenishing by the next pair out.”

You could practically hear the smile on the old man’s face, “Will do, dove. Good night. Don’t kill each other.”

After placing the receiver back in place you take in a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. The herculean task of thanking Miller sincerely and being amicable for the rest of the evening was daunting. It practically made you shudder, but you would be lying if you didn’t acknowledge that there was a part of you excited at the prospect. You missed him, as absurd as that was given your history.

With an armful of sleeping bags, a lamp, a couple of pouches of jerky, and a glass bottle labelled ‘Pete’s- Hands off!’ you exited the staff room, trying to appear as confident as you would be on a typical, Joel-less day. You plopped the items down on the counter unceremoniously, looking up to find him now sitting on an old camping chair in the darkness. Barely any moonlight made it through the thin gaps of the shutters, so you focused your attention on lighting the lamp, ignoring the weight of his stare on your form as you did so.

“Heads up,” you called out a moment later, quickly grabbing and tossing a pouch of jerky at him. The trajectory of the throw was mostly aimed towards his hands, but you did use a careless flick of the wrist that would have absolutely resulted in it smacking against his body if his reflexes weren’t annoyingly good for his age.

The lit lamp that you placed on the floor between you and Joel brought the room into a softer state, and you could see that the earlier anger on Joel’s face had at least partially subsided. You dragged an old crate that once held fishing lures and flipped it, sitting down to his left hand side, before opening your own pouch of jerky and digging into the stale meat. 

"So," You began hesitantly, lifting your eyes from the floor to where he sat, feeling a pang of an emotion you didn’t want to identify when you found him already looking at you. "I guess I just wanted to say thank you. Properly. For saving me, or whatever. I shouldn’t have approached the car without backup."

If it hadn’t been so awkward, you probably would have been laughing at his incredulous face, eyebrows lifted upwards in shock at your sudden attempt at sincere appreciation. When it became clear that you weren’t waiting to attack again, he finally spoke up.

"It’s alright. Could have happened to anyone, I suppose." He seems almost unsettled at your sudden shift in attitude, but also doesn’t seem to want to provoke you again.

You bit back any part of you that wanted to emphasise that it really could have happened to anyone, even with experience, and instead focused on chewing the tough meat. It was surprising to say the least, when Joel was the first one to speak again. 

"Why did you, though? Tommy say something about needing another vehicle?" Joel’s tone was hesitant, as if he felt he shouldn’t be continuing the conversation any further. 

"Oh. Um. No, I wasn’t going to check on the car. I just saw a bobblehead on the dash. Spider-Man. I thought Ellie might have liked it." Your eyes narrowed as you looked at Joel, expecting him to start on you again. What you didn’t expect was the short laugh that followed. It was nice, and you couldn’t help the small smile in return at your own expense.

"Spider-Man, huh? What a reason to risk getting bit." He passed you the final stick of jerky from the pouch he was holding as he spoke. A peace offering. With a wipe of his hands against his jeans, he continued. "Y’all are still close, aren’t you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Your leg bounced at the use of the term ‘still.’ As in, despite everything between us. You batted that thought away quickly. The friendship between you and Joel had crashed and burned after he decided that he couldn’t work with you anymore, but Ellie had only seemed to latch on tighter. Whenever you pointed out that he didn’t seem to think you were worth getting to know, Ellie would roll her eyes at you.

"Yeah, I guess we are. Is that a problem?" You said while shifting in your seat, knowing that he probably would be well within his rights to tell you to stay away from his child. "Because I can tell you right now that despite her insistence, I’ve refused to teach her how to throw knives, at least not until she turns sixteen-" 

"What? No. Should I be concerned?" He cut you off with a concerned look on his face.

Realising that you may have just given Ellie up, you fake a laugh that Joel could have believed if he hadn’t heard your real laugh so many times before.

"No, of course not. That was just a hypothetical." He continued to stare you down, resulting in you giving in more quickly than you were proud of. "Don’t….tell her I told you that."

He gave you an actual laugh at your desperate plea, a sound you hadn’t heard for almost a year. That familiar warmth in your chest and fingertips returned at the sound, and you found yourself chuckling too. Thoughts of all of the times that he would begrudgingly break when you teased him, despite insisting that you weren’t funny rushed through your mind. And how he would threaten to sic Ellie on you whenever you teased him for his achy knees. And how tight your chest would feel when he would look at you over from on his horse while you rode beside each other. As if…No. Nope. Those memories had been securely tucked away in the back of your mind for months now, and you sure as hell were not going to let them out after a year of getting nothing from him. 

You forced the smile off of your face in an instant and stood up somewhat abruptly.

"I-uh, found something in the supplies!" The broad grin you plastered on was an attempt at masking your strange behaviour, but, frankly, a smile from you aimed at Joel was strange enough in of itself. 

Joel watched as you grabbed the glass bottle and lifted it into the air with a little shake to show it off.

"It’s fucking cold in here. This’ll warm us right up!" You said as you uncorked the bottle and immediately tossed back a healthy swig of the mysterious clear liquid. Yep, definitely moonshine. And yes, definitely strong.

A couple of drinks in, and things had already become so much easier between you two. Not only were you both warmer, in spite of the blizzard on your doorstep that was making your breath visible in the air, but you were both laughing freely. 

"And then, he takes the shot and the bullet whizzes by, easily fifteen feet from the deer! The way that smug look dropped off of his stupid face…" You trailed off, cheeks slightly reddened from the alcohol that was far stronger than even the typical homemade stuff back at the Tipsy Bison. Whoever brewed this batch clearly anticipated the need for the strongest shit possible in a bottle small enough to fit in an emergency supply cache, and for that you were appreciative. 

You were sitting on the floor,, one knee up and your back against one of the empty shelves that once held fishing rods. The crate you had been sitting on now held your winter coat, inadvisably discarded due to the sudden heat you felt. Joel sat back in his chair, a far sight more relaxed than he was a mere hour ago. He was chuckling at your mockery of Emmett, your current patrol partner who was definitely a beginner at hunting.

Joel’s shadows danced across the dark room as he lightly shook from the laughter, illuminated by the cheap oil lamp that sat in front of you, and you watched with a dazed grin. His presence used to be a comforting one for you, and seeing his shape fill up a room again made you feel strangely at peace. With the gift of alcohol in your system, it was easy to ignore the painful familiarity that came from being with him like this. You bring your chin over to rest on your raised knee as you look up at him while he speaks.

"That boy definitely has too big of a mouth for his own good. I heard him out in the Bison a week or so ago, going off at a couple of the other guys about how he’s always pullin’ all these different ladies." He shook his head in disapproval while bringing the bottle back up to his lips, taking a generous drink.

"Oh yeah? He say anything about me?" You couldn’t help yourself from asking with a teasing grin. Just the previous week you had to turn Emmett down after he insisted that he could show you a good time. He was a handsome young man, but his age and his use of the term ‘older ladies’ when describing his type made it clear that he would be too annoying to even spend one night with. Besides, you were only in your early thirties, and the thought of being with someone that considered that ‘older' made you physically cringe.

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You into him? I didn’ take you for the type that would want a…pretty boy." He says derisively while picking at the label on the bottle.

You were momentarily distracted by the flex of his calloused fingers against the bottle before snapping out of it to respond, "Eh, I guess you don’t know me that well, then do you, Miller?"

His fingers froze in place and he looked at you humorlessly, causing you to awkwardly laugh and acquiesce "Nah, of course not. He just keeps pulling stupid shit to try and impress me. I had to finally put my foot down the other day and tell him that him wasting ammo on trick shots wasn’t gonna let him into my pants."

Joel let out a small breath that sounded sort of like a laugh but not quite, as he resumed picking at the crumbling label and confirming "I s’pose that means you aren't the cougar he was seeing, then?"

A dramatic gasp escaped your lips. "That son of a bitch! Oh, I am going to give him hell next week. No wonder his little buddies have been givin’ me weird looks recently."

Joel laughed for real that time and you were unable to help yourself from relaxing back against the shelf at the sweet sound.

"I don't know why they would partner you with someone like that," he chuckled, reaching over to finally pass you the bottle that he had been holding. 

As you grabbed the bottle, your fingers briefly brushed and you sensed him tense slightly. This action, combined with his previous statement, made your stomach feel weird. The alcohol bypassed the part of your brain that was screaming at you to shut up, things are going well! and you found yourself saying, "Well, I guess they did that so I could teach him a coupl‘a things. Some people benefit from a little hand holding, I guess." 

You trained your stare into Joel’s eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction at the way his face fell at you directly addressing how you were once partners.

Quiet taps of your fingernail against the side of the cool glass bottle resting in your hand fill the room while he seems to look for words. Something about your statement caught him off guard, as if he somehow didn’t think that you would remember or care about his words. Realising this unsettled him, and you revelled in the glimpse of vulnerability that appeared across his face. 

"I s’pose that makes sense." He finally acknowledged, looking deeply uncomfortable at the way you continued to stare at him bitterly.

"I guess it does."

A few more beats passed in silence as you waited with bated breath for anything, an acknowledgment, an apology, hell, even another insulting explanation for his choices, anything, but it didn’t come. You let out a quiet sigh, placing the bottle on the floor as you stood and dusted off your pants.

"I think I’m gonna call it a night, Joel."

He nodded without a word, eyes remaining stuck at the point on the ground where you had been sitting. Rather than waste your time waiting for anything else from him, you turned and grabbed one of the thin sleeping bags that sat on the counter, walking over to the side of the room furthest from where Joel was still sitting and rolling it out in one quick move. 

Now that you were far away from the heat he naturally seemed to radiate, the cold suddenly felt a lot more biting against your skin. You crawled into the sleeping bag, rolling to face the wall and pressing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to just fall asleep and get this confusing evening over with. The last thing you heard before you dozed off was a quiet, defeated sigh from the opposite side of the room.

a/n: nobody look at me rn okay, i'm juST TRYING SOMETHING OUT!!!!! okay. well. this the first fic i've written and it's looking like it's gonna be 3 parts. please give me any kind of feedback!!!

also a huge collosal thank you to @sinsofsummers for helping me SO MUCH and generally being the most incredible human angel creature to walk the earth with endless patience

[runningfrom2am]

big reputation - (r.c)

summary: Rafe drives you and your hardly conscious friend home from a party.

This can be read as a stand-alone but it's technically a part two to getaway car

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 3k

tags/warnings: mean!kook!reader, bullying i guess?, highschool!au, swearing, drinking, emetophobia warning, smut (its implied nothing actually graphic happens)

requests

nav/masterlists

Loud music shakes the floor of the beach house you're in, filling your ears with Taylor Swift's 'End Game'. One of your favorites. You smile leaning over the railing of the loft, the world spinning as you talk to a giggly Bella, forgetting every sentence the second it leaves your lips.

"Bells, I just love you so much. Have I ever told you that before?" You say, cutting off your friend as she talks.

"Aww, I love you too. So, so much." She replies, throwing her arms around you as you both stumble and fall against the railing.

"Woah! Careful ladies." You hear a male voice close to you and a hand on your back.

"Hi! Quinton, oh my god." Bella giggles before you can identify him, pulling him into what is now a group hug.

"Had too much to drink tonight, huh?" The boy asks and you both furiously shake your heads.

"No! We would never." You say, stopping the head shake as it makes you dizzy.

"Just the good kind of drunk then? I'm glad to hear it." He laughs, dropping his arm from Bella's shoulder and leaning onto you still. You reach up and place your hand on his arm as it falls over your body.

"Yeah! It's so good. It's been too long since we've had a good party, you know?" Bella says, smiling between the two of you.

"Literally! I missed being drunk." You giggle.

"Me too, you're so funny when you're drunk," Quinton says, patting your shoulder.

"I like to think I'm funny all the time." You say, raising an eyebrow as you turn to look up at him.

"Well, duh, just a different kind of funny. More carefree." He explains. "Less... uptight, you know?"

"Oh please." You roll your eyes. "You pretty much have to be uptight to even get into Kook Academy. Bells is an outlier." You laugh.

"So true, actually." Quinton agrees.

Before you can reply, Bella speaks up and proves her right. "I'm gonna go get another drink, I think. Do you want one? Or a water? Actually, yeah I'll get you a water, Y/N/N. It'll be good for you. Yeah." Bella rambles on, quickly tapping you on the shoulder and pointing at you before heading unsteadily toward the stairs. "I'll be right back!" She shouts over the music as she gets farther away.

"Thank you, Bells!" You call after her.

"Come with me," Quinton says, leaning down to speak in your ear, then placing a kiss on your neck.

Shivers run down your back even in your drunken state, looking down the stairs and seeing Bella stopped at the bottom talking to some girls. "I should probably wait here for Bells." You reply, in contrast to you leaning your head to the side to give him more access to your skin.

"She'll be at least ten minutes. Come on." He whispers, dropping his arm from your shoulder and grabbing your wrist, leading you away from the railing and back to a somehow unoccupied bedroom. You suppose she'll be fine, she's got those girls with her and you'll find her in just a few minutes.

Downstairs, Bella stumbles into the kitchen, looking around for an empty cup, and checking all the plastic red cups littered across the countertops. "Bella!" She hears her name and turns.

"Hey! Topper! How are you?" She slurs, immediately walking up to him and giving him a hug.

"Wow, you've had a few, haven't you?" He laughs, patting her back and then pulling away.

"How could you tell?" She giggles.

"Just a guess." He shrugs. "Hey! We're about to start up a game of Chandelier- you want to tap in? We're gonna team up on Kelce, at the very least it'll be a funny watch." Topper says, laughing through the end of his statement.

"Yeah, for sure!" Bella nods, then looks down at the cups in her hands. "Oh, well, I need to get Y/N some water first. Do you think I have time?"

"She'll be fine for a few minutes, you know her." He insists. "If you don't want to drink anymore, someone else will drink for you I'm sure."

Bella thinks about it for a second and nods. She knows you're as independent as they come, but she still does worry about you. She dismisses the thought, remembering you're with Quinton and would probably like some time alone with him anyways. "Okay, sure. Sounds like fun." She agrees, following Topper out to the patio where the game table is placed.

"Hey Bella, you gonna play?" Rafe asks her as she takes her place at the table, squeezing in between Kelce and Topper.

"Yeah! I've never played this before so I'll have to learn as I go but you guys might need some patience for me." She giggles out, not really standing steady on her feet as it is.

Rafe raises his eyebrows and nods, looking at her a little surprised. "Right, yeah." He gives Topper a look, suggesting it may not be the best idea for her to play. "Hey, Bella, where's Y/N?" He asks, leaning over the table a little as the boys work on filling up all the cups with various drinks they had on hand.

"Oh! Uh, she's upstairs." Bella answers, smiling and leaning in a little bit. "With Quin. I figured I'd give them some alone time." She giggles, winking at him.

"Oh, gotcha. Cool." Rafe finds himself looking up towards the windows on the second floor, not sure what he was expecting or even wanting to see.

"Yeah, I'm excited for her! I think she's really into him. Well, that's what she says. She never seems interested when I want to talk about it, though. She does have some issues so I think it could be about that. Sorry, no. I shouldn't say that- I mean, I just worry about her because of some stuff that's happened to her and I definitely shouldn't be telling any of you this so I'm gonna stop talking right now." Bella rambles on, slowly trailing off toward the end of her sentence.

"No you're fine- we won't tell anyone," Topper says, shaking his head. "Who hasn't had a sprinkle of trauma in their lives, you know?"

"Let's just play," Rafe says, quickly polishing off what's left in his can before tossing it over his shoulder. "Me and you start, Top. That way Bells can see how it's done."

It's been about half an hour since Bella left to go get your drinks, and part of you feels guilty for disappearing on her. Realistically, though, you know she doesn't mind finding someone else to talk to for a bit while you're sitting on the ensuite bathroom counter with Quinton's head between your thighs. She's got tons of friends- and god knows she'll love to hear about it later.

Your head is leaning back against the mirror, eyes closed and all you can hear is your own heavy breathing and the music shaking the walls from downstairs. That's until you think you hear someone calling your name, then a hand on the bedroom door handle which is in full view of the open bathroom door. Why did you not lock it? You shove Quinton's head away as quickly as you can, just in time to push your skirt down before the door swings open.

"Y/N-" It's Rafe, and he freezes for just a moment, clearly processing what he almost walked in on as Quinton stands up, wiping his mouth on his shirt which he just picked up off the floor.

"Hey, Rafe- what's up?" He asks casually, pulling the fabric back over his head. As you stare at the boy, stunned and red in the face. 

"Uh- I need Y/N. Something happened." He explains vaguely, grabbing your arm and pulling you from the room.

"Jesus Christ, Rafe! What the fuck?" You say once you're out of earshot, letting him pull you down the stairs.

"It's Bella, she keeps asking for you. She's like, super fucked up." Rafe huffs, pulling you out onto the patio.

"Okay yeah, aren't we all?" You scoff and he shakes his head. You take one look at your friend, laid out on the grass on the back lawn and quickly run over to her, kneeling by her side.

"Hey, Bells? You alright, babe?" You say, a sympathetic smile on your face. She absolutely does not look good.

"No..." She groans, opening her eyes to look up at you. "Can we go home?" She asks, and you quickly nod. 

"Of course. Uh... yes. Do you think you're gonna be sick? Will you be fine if I call an Uber?" You ask.

Rafe is quickly kneeling next to you. "I got some water, here, Bella, let's get you up." He says, and you both help her slowly sit up, then he hands her the cup.

He leans in close to your ear to talk to you so she doesn't hear. "She puked all over the table- she's probably done for now but she's gotta get home." 

You wince and look back up on the patio where Kelce and Topper are throwing cups into a garbage bag and dousing the surface with any cleaner they could find under the sink and covering it in paper towels. "Yikes." You chuckle, turning to look back at him.

"Yeah, it was not pretty." He laughs a little, shaking his head. "Do you guys have a DD?" He asks.

"No, we were going to Uber- but I don't know if they'll let us in." You sigh, sitting back on your heels.

"No, no. 'm fine, guys. I take it back. I wanna stay." Bella insists, handing you the almost empty cup.

"Well, I think I'm ready to go home, babe. That okay?" You smile at her and she nods.

"Of course! Yeah, let's go home." You giggle at how quickly she changed her mind.

"I think I can drive," Rafe says, looking between the two of you. You hesitate, thinking it over. "I haven't had much. I was going to drive myself anyways. Do you trust me?"

You find yourself nodding. He seems sober enough for you. "Yeah, okay. Rafe is going to take us home." You turn to your friend, patting her leg.

"Oh! Thank you, Rafe. You're so sweet." She slurs, reaching forward and placing her hand on his cheek.

He laughs, shaking his head. "That's a new one for sure. Come on. Let's get you home."

You both help her up, letting her drape her arms over both of your shoulders and holding her waist as you walk out to the street, towards where Rafe says he parked. Luckily he didn't take the bike, he was thinking he'd probably have to drive Topper and Kelce too.

He watches you as you talk to Bella quietly, giggling to yourselves. "Oh god, wait! Y/N I'm so sorry- you were with Quinton!" Bella says suddenly, now loud enough for Rafe to hear. "I hope I didn't ruin anything- oh god..."

"No, no. Bells, it's fine." You insist, shaking your head. "It wasn't good anyways." You shrug, making Rafe choke on his laughter.

"What? Why?" Bella gasps, looking over at you. "Was he-"

"Uh-" You laugh nervously cutting her off as you briefly make eye contact with Rafe over her head. "I'll tell you about it later, okay?"

"No, please- share with the group," Rafe says, raising an eyebrow at you.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not gonna 'share with the group', let's just say, I'm over him now and I'd like to thank you both for getting me out of there."

The two of them laugh at that, and Bella tries to lean in to whisper to you. "You'll still tell me the details later though, right?" She says, trying to be quiet but it was still loud enough for Rafe to hear.

"Yeah, yeah of course." You giggle, making eye contact with him again.

"Uh, this is us," Rafe says, digging in his pocket for his keys to unlock the vehicle. He opens the back door, and you both help Bella in. "Okay, not to be that asshole, but Bella; if you have to puke, now is the time because I really don't want it to stink in here." He says as you buckle her in. She nods and gives a thumbs-up.

"I'm good. I promise."

"Okay, Bells, if you think that you're going to puke while we're moving, say something, okay? We can pull over or roll down your window or something." You tell her and she nods again. 

You hop in the passenger seat and Rafe jogs around to the driver's side, climbing in and starting it up. You drive in the direction of Bella's house, putting on any Taylor Swift he had on his phone at her every request- not that you minded. It was mostly Reputation, which was fine by you since that was your favorite as well.

Luckily, you make it to Bella's without a hitch, jumping out to go enter the gate code to be let onto the property. You quickly jump back in and Rafe pulls up the long driveway to her house. 

"Rafe! Here, hold on- how much do you want?" Bella asks, digging through the bag on her lap. 

"Don't pay me." Rafe laughs, shaking his head. 

"Okay, well, I guess I'm just going to accidentally leave this fifty back here where you can't reach it. Oopsies." She laughs, tucking it in the back seat and wrapping her arm around you again as she pretty much falls out of the car.

"Yeah, whatever Bella." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "Hey, Y/N, are you staying here? Or do you need a ride home?" Rafe asks as you're about to shut the door.

"Uh, I think I'll go home if you're okay to wait a couple minutes while I get her to bed?" You ask and he nods.

"I'll be here." He assures you and you thank him before shutting the door, helping Bella up to her house, and entering the code to get in.

"Wait, wait, tell me about Quinton!" Bella whispers once you're inside as you help her upstairs to her room.

"I'll tell you tomorrow- we'll debrief at brunch, yeah?" You laugh, shutting the door to her room behind you.

"Okay, okay." Bella sighs, flopping down on her bed as you grab her a makeup wipe and some pajamas from her drawer. "You know what I've been thinking?"

"Hm?" You hum in response, placing the pajamas on the bed and sitting down next to her, holding her chin as she sits up so you can gently wipe off her makeup for her.

"I think you and Rafe are like, the same person. You have a lot in common! You're both the oldest of three, you both are a little bit mean, but like in a fun way, and you have virtually the exact same sense of humor." She says and you laugh, shaking your head. "If you're over Quinton now, like you said, maybe- I don't know, just a pitch, maybe you should consider all your options. That's all I'm saying." 

"Bella, come on. Rafe is... Rafe." You laugh, carefully wiping her lashes. 

"Yeah, and you are you. And I'm me. And you're kind of friends, so like- what's the harm? Also, I can see it in the way he looks at you." She says, eyes still closed. "Besides, I've heard it's big." 

"Bella!" You laugh, your cheeks burning as you sigh. "I've heard that too." You admit.

"Okay! You can get us evidence and give me all the tea. Neither of you are the relationship type either so there's no pressure." She explains. "But also, like, I really don't think a relationship would be bad for you. Or him. If you are as similar as I think you are. Also, you kind of went on a date the other week! Like, come on. You get on so well."

You smile to yourself and shake your head, getting up to throw out the dirty wipe. "I've got to go, Rafe is waiting." You giggle and she nods, laying back down. "Hey, put your pajamas on before you pass out. Okay? I'll see you in the morning." You head back to the door.

"Go get your man, Y/N/N. I love you." Bella yawns, already half asleep.

"Love you too. I'll call you in the morning." You whisper, stepping out and closing the door softly behind you, careful not to wake her parents.

You sneak outside, running over to the car where Rafe is still waiting, looking at his phone when you jump in.

"She good?" He asks as you close the door.

"Yeah, passed out instantly." You chuckle, avoiding eye contact with him. 

"Sweet. Yeah." He agrees, sensing a shift in tension. He starts the car and you start back down the driveway, getting back out onto the road after closing the gate behind you.

"So, did you tell her about Quinton?" Rafe laughs.

"No, that's a breakfast conversation for sure." You chuckle.

"A breakfast conversation? Really? Why do you have to put other people through that?"

You shrug in response. "Because I don't give a shit if anyone knows." 

"That guy is a dick, you know that right?" Rafe says suddenly, and you look over at him as he stares at the road.

"Well, yeah, but we're kind of friends so..." You reply defensively.

"He's not worth your time. I know him pretty well, and just like, don't bother." Rafe says, glancing over at you for a second.

"Maybe I'm not worth his time." You reply.

"Nah. You can do so much better. And it wouldn't be hard." Rafe insists.

"Thanks." You say hesitantly. You've never been the best at accepting compliments, but Bella has told you to work on it, so when in doubt, just say thanks.

Luckily you don't live far from Bella, so you pull up to your house in just a few minutes. You open the door, grab your bag off the floor by your feet, and going to shut the door. You've been sitting on what Bella said, really just marinating in the thought of you and Rafe together. No harm in trying, right?

"Aren't you coming in?" It comes out more passive-aggressively than you intended when what you meant to ask was if he would like to come in, but that's just not how your mind works sometimes. His head snaps up at this, and he's already undoing his seatbelt.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." He agrees quickly, turning off the car.

part one

taglist: @slut4drudy , @madelynie , @mutual-mendes , @sadfury , @totallynotkaibiased (i also tagged some mutuals who like my other stuff so if you want to be added or removed lmk!!)

[rk-ceres]

Pretty Girl- George Weasley

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader (Season of love event) Fred Weasley x Reader(platonic)

Timeline: 6 months after the battle of Hogwarts

Summary: Reader gets injured in the war saving Fred's life, after the war she wakes up six months later and falls in love with George who has been taking care of her loooooooooooonggggggg ass fic. had an idea and ran with it mutual pining (strangers to)/friends to lovers I just thought this idea was cute

Warnings: no use. of y/n or y/h/n its just ____, written in first person, crass language, some dirty jokes here and there, nothing physical, slow burn, !FRED LIVES!, reader is a flirt, mentions of death in the war, reader looses a leg in the war, George takes on care taker role for Fred after he gets injured after he was saved by reader, and any others i missed

A/N: decided to take a stab at the season of love event that one of my favorite writers are hosting right now and half way through i really wished i made this a series but i guess this works better as a long one shot with room for more parts. Theres just so much you can do with this imho but it is what it is sorry for the long ass read it was just too much fun to write this ended to where i could add on parts if i really wanted too so if it seemed unfinished i dunno 🤷‍♀️

My eyes fluttered open and hissed at the light in the room everything hurt groaning out in pain as i sat up “oh good.. youre awake. I was getting pretty lonely being in here the only one conscious” Fred called out to me as i rubbed the eye that wasn't covered in gauze “not to be rude or anything but where am i?” i asked moving my hand to rub the back of my neck feeling the popping groaning in some relief throwing a leg over the bed “whats the last thing you remember?” He asked looking at me i rolled my eyes yawning out “I was fighting back to back with one of Percy’s twin brothers… i found him after…. After Penny died…im not sure which twin i was fighting with… i didnt have the time to pick out the differences. Or ask… we were outnumbered ten to three… the minister of magic came in Percy made a god awful joke…. Which we all shared there was an explosion that flew me and the twin i was with against eachother before the wall could come down on us i put up a shield…. And then everything went black” he shifted on to his side “it was me, you saved me.” He smiled “youre Fred?” i asked finally looking at him taking in his broadening smile obviously thrilled that he had someone to talk too “yeah. Im Fred. And to answer your question, youre in George’s bed. We’re at my flat in the shop” he explained “what am i doing in George’s bed in your flat in your shop?" i made a confused face "i know i didn't fall asleep after an intense love making session after a night in the pub so forgive me i am a little confused" i huffed "no. you didn't sleep with my brother. not yet anyway" he rolled his eyes speaking in an amused voice “youre in his bed because after you saved me. The ground gave way under you. And you fell through three floors of the castle, you scratched your face on the rebar on your way down. It missed your eye by a centimeter. I carried you to Pomfrey, You were in a coma for about five months almost six. I insisted that id be the one to help you recover and with your physical therapy after you saved my life. My Fiancėe Angelina would’ve taken care of your injuries for me since you know… im a guy and youre a chick. Then i went and got myself blown up by Bellatrix trying to save my sister… I failed her and now? we’re in the same boat. George turned his room into our recovery room since its the biggest of the two. Angel even agreed to it. Shes really grateful to you. She and mums been taking care of your chest wound seeing as how youre a woman, George handles your eye and… and your leg.” he smiled filling in the details. “What do you mean my leg? physical therapy?” i asked confused furrowing my eyebrows pulling the blanket off of my waist i looked down at my legs to see my right leg had been amputated above the knee “Madame Pomfrey had to take it before you succumbed. Part of the wall fell on it and it was irreparable. I killed the death eater that did that to you” my eyes started to water breathing heavily because it looked like it was so close to killing me i was relieved that i was still alive "love... hey… calm down its okay” he tries to stand but winces falling back to his bed when a loud sob wracks through my lips “shit… GEORGE! GET IN HERE GEORGE NOW!” He yelled suddenly bursted through the door “she just woke up” he told his twin she started to dry heave he wordlessly pulled me into his chest “shhhhh youre okay love its okay.. youre safe.. youre safe.. Pretty girl youre safe.. Percy sat in here with you for two months straight” he cooed they stayed like that as he comforted me when i finally composed myself enough i pulled back slightly  “thank you” i whispered to him “sorry for ruining your nice shirt… i didnt.. i didnt mean to George” i said louder scooting back to leab my back against his headboard “dont worry about that beautiful, its just tears. im sorry you found out that way” he said softly kneeling by the edge of the bed

“Fred was supposed to WAIT to tell you.” He glared at his twin he smiled sheepishly “I didnt expect her to pull her blanket off!” Fred defended himself “that’s enough out of you Fred” he hissed “im George” he smiled at her gently "______ Barebone, I was a ______…" thinking back to my house in school "in your year. Friends with your brother he dated my best friend” “Penny” we said together and i smiled “youre sitting up on your own. Thats a good thing.” He smiled gently at me “is it alright if i checked your eye?” i bit my lip and nodded at him gently. “Can i borrow your owl to write Percy? I want to make sure he’s alright, we both lost Penny" i said barely audible “of course Pretty Girl let me just finish up here i'll get you parchment and a quill when mum and Ange get here” he chuckled He unwrapped the bandage on her face i hissed at the dull pain in my left eye “good… good love, dilation is good. Can you follow my finger for me?” He asked softly “you're tracking well with your left eye sweetheart.” He mumbled he softly covered my right eye with his palm “can you see anything lovely?” He asked “I see your nose… but its blurry” clearly unaffected by his testing of pet names and terms of endearment  he smiled “it looks like the cuts on your face will scar but Fred and I developed a cream that’ll make it go away in a month if you want to use it. I dont have to put the bandage back on… Is it okay if I check your leg?” He asked being extra aware with me being awake and aware of everything he got consent before making physical contact and i nodded not minding the physical contact he slowly cut away the bandages “any pain?” he looked up at me with his green eyes  “just my side” i whispered “yeah, Fred and Percy said you hit a lot of rebar going down after the wall. I’ll let mom and Ange know to up your healing regimen on your side" he sighed looking back at my leg "so wanna tell me why im in your bed and not in St Mungo's right now?" i asked "y'know men usually take girls out to dinner before having their way them in their bed... with their brother watching... never been one for exhibitionistm you know" i teased he snorted "that'd be the voyeur's fault" George winked pointing back to Fred teasingly "thanks for saving him by the way. don't worry Madame Pomfrey stops by every two weeks and she trained both me and Mum to take care of your daily needs. You're in good hands Angel" He added “incision looks good, you can start using the wheel chair youre a little ways away from getting a prosthetic” he smiled “George dear its time to change her….” “Shes up mum” George smiled “I’ll come back in a few minutes with lunch and your potions. I’ll send a quick Owl to Percy as well” He stood up after wrapping her leg then leaving the room giving the women privacy

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“Afternoon love. You look stunning today” Fred smiled when Angelina gave him a lingering kiss "get a room Voyeur" i stuck my tongue out at Fred he let out a fake offended gasp at me "excuse me ma'am, YOU'RE the one watching ME doesn't that make you the voyeur" he protested "well look at the kettle calling the cauldron black" i retorted "ooh you're just as annoying as..." Molly quickly cut him off before he could mention Ginny pulling the divider so he couldn't see her disrobing “heavens Angelina you're fine shes awake” Molly smiled “Molly Weasley love, ive been taking care of your side. Angies been helping while you were under” she smiles at me "_____, but George has been calling me Love, Pretty girl, Beautiful, Sweetheart, Angel... basically any pet name he can think of. quite endearing" i said with a small smile taking off the hospital gown they put me in “im Angelina, I wanted to thank you for saving my Fiancé” she gently taking off the bandages on my chest “it wasnt an issue I think he returned the favor and then some seeing as how he got blown up just seconds after i saved his behind” i chuckled glaring through the divider "I HEARD THAT BRATT! its not my fault that Bellatrix was a crazy witch out for blood" Fred protested "i fell through three floors for you. i get to have this!" i protested back “he didnt have to do much convincing. George was going to ask you to Yule ball, and any one who keeps that dingleberry alive is a friend in my book” Angie smiled breaking up the sibling squabble we were having “lift your arms for us?” Molly asked when Angelina finally got the bandage off “he was going to ask me to the ball?” I asked wincing when my arms came up armpit height dropping them slightly “ive got you girl” Angelina caught my arms and lifted so Molly could repair the split skin “yeah, he was. George wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks then McClaggen beat him to it. Sulked for weeks on end” Angie shook her head in amusement "he wouldnt stop moaning about it either" Fred chimed in "he was worse than moaning Myrtle" you could hear the disgust and teasing in his voice “thats sweet. He probably would’ve been a better choice. McClaggen was an arse” i smiled “your cut seems to be healing well, looks like you still have that infection. I’ll add the antibiotics back into your medicine” Molly smiled as she wrapped the bandage back around my chest taking down the divider again Fred promptly flipped me off where i just stuck my tongue out at him again

“Alright George, Fred, we’ll be off” Molly smiled “see you later love, have a good day at work. mum” Fred kissed Angie “call if you need anything George” Angelina smiled he nodded “Take these” George handed her the potions he sat on his bed next to her as he held the empty ones and handed me the full potion phials “how you feeling Pretty girl?” “Like i fell three floors out of a castle” i gagged drinking the potions that tasted exactly like feet "ugh you think that theyd be kind to people who almost die" i choked out  he chuckled “i would’ve said yes by the way” he cocked an eyebrow a me “Ange told her that you were going to ask her to Yule ball” Fred filled in “i wouldve said yes, McClaggen was a dick” i handed him the empty phials as he handed me the full bottles “we can go dancing later if you wanted too, i enjoy dancing i usually go to the muggle clubs on 5th. They have salsa nights, or ball room dancing. You know. to make up for the ball” i smiled his blush grew “i might just take you up on that when youre ready and comfortable enough on your new leg” he fell into a playful flirtation “even with one leg sir, i can out dance you” gaining a laugh from Fred “if youre already joking about having only one leg what was all that crying about?” “FRED!” George tried to scold “Honestly?” i cut him off looking to Fred “i was just glad it was my right leg. I had a bad tattoo that i had to get removed. Someone shouldve told that eater he didnt need to go THAT extreme” i jested “tattoo?” George asked “it was a swallow. It used to match my mom. honestly it really was a bad tattoo” i smiled “you think the healers would let me get a peg leg? OOH! I could even get an eye patch!” They both erupted into laughter “nah im just pulling your right legs since you know i dont have one” “alright alright stop!! It hurts to laugh dick head!” “HEY! Its peg leg to you! I dont have a dick. Or a dick head for that matter. But i will have a fake leg.” i yelled at Fred playfully he just laughed harder at that “ARG MATEY!”  The three share a laugh George catches his breath “who wouldve known you were so funny” he gave her a toothy grin that turned into a closed mouth smile “i make light of bad situations. My brother, ____. He used to call me sunshine and sing this stupid muggle song ‘ive got sunshine… on a cloudy day… when its cold out side, ive got the month of May….’” i laughed “my girl. From the temptations. He used to call me sunshine” “who knew you could sing” Fred Jested “i cant. But he could” i smiled at Fred “you have a brother?” George asked “Had” i smiled “took a curse for me told me to go find mum and dad, Dad died outside the room of requirement, protecting firsties. And my mom… she was tortured near the beginning.” i smiled sadly “Ginny ended up passing too” he smiled sadly she gave him a sympathetic smile squeezing his hand “i was crying because it looked like it came this close to crushing me entirely and for some reason im still alive. Something from the grace of Merlin im alive, i was happy that im Alive” i looked at George who was looking at me with a guilty expression

“come on handsome… wheres that pretty smile you had on for me i worked hard for that you know. Im not a good flirt. I was hoping youd lead, and hopefully ask me to dinner or coffee if i played my cards right. Its not every day someone as pretty as you are is willing to take care of me to laugh with me or at me” i reached up to his face he leaned into my touch chuckling completely red in the face “im okay, we four knew what was going on and what was at risk im okay. Promise.” i smiled softly at him he smiled “Handsome huh?” “You called me beautiful when im obviously a mess.” i shrugged he started smiling again she noticed his dimples and the way his cheeks creased and my face heated up “theres my pretty smile… you have really really pretty eyes… and dimples…. Did i mention i have a thing for guys with dimples.” i smiled rubbing a thumb on his cheek he looked down and back up to my eyes trying to find the right words “youre pretty even if youre a mess” he smiled softly “yep thats it. Ive decided. Youre the handsome twin.” “HEY!” Fred protested “take that!” George smiled laughing at triumphantly like that was an argument theyve had multiple times Fred who was pouting crossing his arms over his chest “youre the nicest twin” She smiled at Fred “acceptable” he smiled at me “im going to get your lunches” he smiled to them “thank you. Can i use your owl again? I need to owl gringots. Get some money for rent and food and care” i muttered to myself “no need. All taken care of” Fred said “you saved me. You dont pay for shit when in our care” he shrugged ending the conversation “do you really want a peg leg?” Fred asked out of the blue “i’ll take what i get.” i shrugged. “At least let me help with groceries” i huffed annoyed “once a month” George bargains “Zero times and shes happy about it” Fred protests “Three times but i let you pay for my prosthetic” she countered “no times, we pay for the prosthetic and she gets what she wants at the shop” fred demanded “we pay for your prosthetic, twice a month, you transfigure your own room, personal care supplies fully yours” George offered “thats a deal i can live with… did you just ask me to move in with you without you asking me out on a date first? When can i expect a proposal? Or should i ask Percy to bring Kingsley and skip to ‘I do’” i smiled at George and he flushed 50 shades of red as Fred snickered “you say youre not good at flirting but this is the third time youve rendered Georgie here speechless” Fred laughed she looked at Fred as he looked back at her “i cant help it i almost died, and lifes too short for me to keep being shy. Theres a first for everything right? Who wouldve known the first man outside of Percy and you i try to actually talk too would flirt with me. He could be my first love, my first actual relationship maybe. He could be my husband one day. Quit butting in youre ruining my shot i dont know how many of these i have you know. Mangled face and peg leg. I wanna get it right the first time! Who knows. Maybe if i flirt enough i’ll get him to fall completely head over heels in love with half of a girl i used to be Perc always told me to put myself out there. What a better time then now?” i shrugged Fred laughed “im not butting out Maam we share a room! Theres no possible way for me to butt out your business IS my business! And with the way youre going Love" Fred called out the way George would say it "he’ll be in love with you by the end of the week” Fred snickered George just shrugged “i had a crush on you in 5th year.” He looked at me it was my turn to be rendered speechless “you wont have to work too hard to make me fall for you Pretty Girl we're already half way there” he shrugged leaving the room leaving me speechless

°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩☆━(╹-╹’’)

A month had passed Fred was able to start his Physical therapy and Molly wasnt coming by daily anymore “FUCK!” Fred screamed “come on Freddie you can do it!” i cheered him on from my seated position on the bed  “it feels like my insides are going to spill out” He whimpered clinging to Georges shoulder “two more steps Freddie. Just have to make it to the chair” George encouraged “FUCK FUCK” he groaned “almost there Freddie youve got this!” He slowly took another step as i cheered him on "come on Freddie boy make that chair your bitch" i teased  he looked at her and smiled “thanks love.” He smiled taking another step reaching the chair “alright good good sit rest. We’ll go back to bed in 5” he smiles at his twin George looked at me with a smile “time to check my stump handsome?” i looked up to George “yes pretty girl. Time to check your leg, and your eye” he smiled i removed the blanket hissing as she moved further up the bed and turning to throw my leg off the side he sits in the stool next to the bed “any pain?” He asked as he looked at my eye with the flash light “just my side. I think your mom said it was an infection again. Apparently my core isnt strong enough to battle muggle infections.” i shrugged “follow my finger” i watched his finger as he moved it “sometimes it feels like my leg is still there and and its like a sharp pain. But its not there and its weird” i talk as he covers my right eye “i can see your face” i smile at him “she woke up screaming last night” Fred said to the air “she said she was fine her leg just hurt” “why didnt i hear the scream?” He asked as he unwrapped the leg “she casted a muffelito on the room before she fell asleep” Fred ratted her out “tattle tail” i stuck my tongue out at him “brat” he hissed back “Baby!” She teased “toddler!” He yelled back “you have crappy hair!” i crossed my arms over my chest “TAKE THAT BACK!” Fred yelled “MAKE ME YOU CRIPPLE!” George laughed at the banter "PEGLEG!" he stuck his tongue out at me "you two are toddlers" George rolled his eyes  “i… have nightmares. I didnt think it was an issue” i said as he looked at the leg “youre healing fast. Should be able to take the staples out soon, we’ll call madame Pomfrey to come fit you for a prosthetic. Tell me if this hurts” he said as he gently massaged my thigh above the stump i gasped as he gently squeezed “feels great” i said breathily “teach me” i whispered to him he smiled as i placed my hands over his he looked back down putting his hands over mine as he moved my fingers showing me how to ease the pain of the lost leg “it wont hurt forever…” he said softer i smiled at him “thank you George for doing this for me” i looked down “hey. Its handsome to you, Pretty girl, you saved Fred. Its the least I can do.” He kissed the top of my head “youre the kindest person I have ever met… and id get myself crushed over and over again if it meant I got to meet you all over again George. You’re making me fall for you. Is this one sided? Dont make me out to be a fool” i whispered in his ear gently kissing his cheek, his eyes widened in shock at the forwardness and tenderness this girl had for him they’ve only known each-other for about three months at this point he cleared his throat taking his hands off her leg “he's blushing like an idiot again! what did you say to him!” Fred who was watching intently with a bag of crisps “did you accio a bag of crisps?" i furrowed my eyebrows “its not every day i have a front row seat to my brothers love life. There i answered yours now answer mine” Fred rolled his eyes “I told him I thought he has pretty eyes” i fibbed they both know i did he raised an eye brow at me George still staring with red on his cheeks i shrugged

“i didnt lie. He’s…." i blushed looking down “nevermind” i turned over in bed facing the wall he leans over placing a hand on my hip gently and kisses my cheek “youd never be the fool when im with you. Its not one sided. Im the fool love made a whole career out of it. But im also a fool falling in love with the sweetest most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and I’m the lucky one to get to take care of her” he whispered into my ear he pushes off the bed “WAIT WHAT DID HE SAY!!!” Fred groaned eating another crisp “thats for her to know. And you to find out NEVER” George said walking toward him “Come on Fred, lets get back to bed” George hoisted him up after putting the crips off to the side “i was eating those!” He pouted “sod the crisps you need to do this pt!” George yelled gaining a laugh from _____. A month had passed since then, “Afternoon Pretty girl, I need to check your stump” he smiled setting my plate of food on the dresser “we can get Pomfrey in here to measure you for your leg soon. And your physical therapy with Fred and I” i smiled back “can you massage my leg handsome? Its starting to hurt again….” i whispered “alright love, just for a little” he smiled she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror i frowned as Fred met my eyes mood immediately dropping “I gotta get down to the shop before Lee bites my head off.” He smiled at me and i returned it “have a good day at work Handsome” “thank you pretty girl” he smiled when the door closed my smile faded as i stared into the mirror tears formed in my eyes Fred looked at her concerned “you okay Love?" Fred whispered “I miss my brother” i sniffled “he always knew what to say” “well im not your brother but im in need for a sister… if youre in need of a brother… i think we both qualify to fill each others open positions yeah?” He asked i turned to him looking at him with tears in my eyes “teach me what to say, let me be your brother love" He looked at me with gentile eyes

“tell me im deserving pf love even if im broken and ugly” i mumbled he was taken aback he took in a breath and smiled “love, you’re gorgeous, George sees how pretty you are and youve got him whipped. You deserve him and the love he wants to give you trust me” hours passed when George walked in with our dinners light sniffles could be heard from the other side of the room my back was turned to him he looked to Fred who just gave him a tight lipped smile and walked to the other side of the room after handing him his plate he set mine down next to my un-touched lunch plate on the bed side table “hey pretty girl…. What’s wrong… you in pain?” i shook my head no “what’s wrong beautiful, tell me what’s the matter how can I make you smile again?” He cooed softly “Dont lie to me” my voice hoarse like i had been crying for hours he reached to wipe away a tear ”what do you mean I’ve never lied to you Beautiful” hurt hit me square in the chest “you just did. You always do.. mangled face, missing leg. I stare at the girl ive become all day that mirror haunts me my own reflection is a reminder that im alone. And im no longer beautiful and its sickening you dont have to keep flirting with me because you feel obligated to. No one wants someone like me. Not anymore im not pretty and im definitely not beautiful. I have no one. No ones here” i sobbed more closing my eyes sniffling “I miss my brother. He would be in this bed with me. Holding me. Telling me to cheer up sunshine the worlds cloudy and gray without you please sunshine smile for me? combing through my hair like he always did holding me together while I fall apart but hes gone. My mums gone. My dads gone. I havent slept in four months the nightmares keep coming back and I just want to cry I cant be the girl that flirts twenty four seven with a guy thats too polite to tell me that it makes him uncomfortable when this is all over im going to be alone again just let mw grieve the loss of my leg, my family, and my face. I have no where to go. All I have is an empty house my best friend died, my leg hurts twenty four seven and I just need to be sad for a few hours can you leave me alone for a few hours I’ll be normal again in the morning I dont need your pity” he continued to wipe the tears off my face as he processed what i said “im not going to stop calling you pretty, and beautiful because thats what I see when I look at you Angel, I mean look at you love…” he said softer “just look at you….. i cant take my eyes off of you… youre just too good to be true the sight of you leaves me weak there are no words left to describe how pretty you are sweetie”  lifting my face in his cupped hands “youre stunning you leave me breathless, all those things you just mentioned are fixable, love, half of what you said isnt true, you really think that Fred and Angelina is going to leave you alone after youre all healed up and better? Youve got another thing coming. Theyre never going to stop you have friends. Percy’s been here every day since we owled. Fred and Angie made it clear youre their person” he smiled softly “im not letting you go either im afraid youre stuck with me you still owe me a date, and a dance” he whispered standing up and draping a blanket over the mirror i cried more as she felt the bed dip behind me he pulled me into his side one arm under my head one on my torso pulling me on my back fingers immediately going to y hair “if you needed someone to hold you. You could’ve just said so I would’ve done this ages ago if you needed it” he brushed his fingers through my hair humming softly

“and you dont have to say anything to me at all. I flirt with you because I enjoy flirting with you. You make me happy and light, you render me speechless and no one. And I mean no one can do that. But you can, thats why I do what I do you dont make me uncomfortable love. I miss Ginny too. She was a spitfire and its hard not having her around anymore, and if its alright, I want to hold you while we cry about our siblings yeah?” He asked i turned on my side draping an arm over his torso “im sorry about Ginny… her and Luna were really nice to me” i sniffled “I need you to eat for me… I’ll eat with you.” He pulled the roll off of my plate, ripping it in half handing it to me “im sorry about your brother Pretty girl" he whispered as he ate making sure i ate some of the food as well

ଘ(∩^o^)⊃━☆:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧✯:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧✯:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧✯:·ﾟ✧*:

A few hours later i let out a yawn d he started to get up out of bed my arm tightened around him feeling safe for the first time since ive woken up seven months ago “stay…” i said softly his shirt balling in my curled hand “please stay tonight” i whispered he let himself fall back into the bed “Darling wha… what do you mean?” He asked softly “Sleep here… in your bed…. I…. I need sleep…. And im scared to….. theyll come back and haunt me” i whispered “mate she hasnt slept in months i stay up with her as long as i can but i always pass put.” Fred piped up blush spread across my cheeks and i let him go flipping over to my other side embarrassed that i needed someone to make me feel safe enough to sleep “nevermind its stupid forget i said anything” i sniffled he simply reached over and turned out the light “i’ll stay for as long as you need me to stay Pretty girl" he kissed the top of my head again pulling me back into his chest his arm under my head curling back to put his hand in my hair other hand engulfing mine “i’ve got sunshine…. On a cloudy day….” He sung softly twirling my hair in his fingers “when its cold outside, ive got the month of may.. well i guess you say what can make me feel this way” she fell asleep holding onto his hand tightly

“George dear” Molly called out “SHHHH!” Fred said getting out of his bed hissing in pain “let them sleep for a little while longer this is the first shes sleeping since she woke up” he looked back to the girl who hid her face in his twins chest “lets go talk outside” Fred smiled one last time at them sleeping before throwing his arm over his mom and leaning on her for support as they walked out of the room shutting the door lightly

three hours later my eyes fluttered open looking at his sleeping face our lips were so close i bit my lip as his breath fanned over my face a surge of confidence emerged heart hammering against my chest i leaned up and gently pressed my lips to his, his brows furrowed as he stretched slightly pulling me impossibly close to him eyes fluttering open “i….. im sorry,. I didnt know what came over me i shouldve asked fir…” i was cut off by his lips on mine the kiss was soft and slow “goodmorning pretty girl, thank you for the amazing wake up” he murmured against my lips kissing her again “dont be sorry beautiful, ive been waiting for that” he cupped my face with his hand my face contorted in pain “thanks for staying” “i told you already baby… im here for as long as you need me to be” i let out a tear “whats the matter pretty girl? Nervous about your new leg?” He asked softly “im actually really excited for that really. Its just that my leg hurts… and its not even there anymore” i cried softly  “it wont hurt forever…” he said softer “i barely have pain in my ear anymore” he smiled showing me his missing ear she reached up and stroked the hair that fell onto the hole on the side of his head “i still think youre gorgeous Georgeous if you will.. ear, or no ear youre perfect to me… so perfect and kind and caring…” i whispered as i kissed the side of his head where his ear wouldve been his eyes widened in shock at the tenderness of this moment, just for him. He chuckles “only you would make that play on words huh? so cheesy Baby" he rubs my cheek with the pad of his thumb “baby youre so beautiful, and i want you..” he whispered moving his face closer to mine “leg or no leg i think youre amazing, smart, funny, and kind. Unbelievably beautiful and i dont think you should use the cream on your scars, it shows just how strong you are they dont define you or subtract from how i see you. And i would love it, if you’d accompany me to dinner when youre able to, i’ll ask again later when you get your leg and i help you learn how to walk again i want you” he whispered softly massaging my stump as he talked my eyes widened “i guess what im saying is i need you here with me… in the flat.. with me.. everyday youre the first thing i ever want to see and talk too when i get home from the shop youre the first thing i cant wait to see when i wake up… and i need you to stay here with me? Please? I promise you i wont hurt you.. just stay with me and i’ll take care of you.. whatever you need. Angel, please  ive never felt this way about anyone im in love with you Angel please... stay" he breathed out looking at me his arm snaking back up and around my waist tightening around me “im in love with you too George, and... and i want to stay with you.. you and Freddie...” i whispered he kissed me deeply it was a hungry and needy heated kiss the hand around the stump tightened as he pulled me even cliser to him putting the stump over his hip “baby i love you” looking into my eyes kissing me again

@george-weasleys-girl

[mercmorales]

Idol reader x Jujutsu Kaisen hmmm

Y/N is a J-pop idol who was apart of a girl group for a few years

Her parents were Jujutsu sorcerers, so she had decided to become one as well

Problem is, however, she had garnered up a diehard fan base that quite literally cried when she announced she would be taking a break from touring with her group so she could start school again

Two of these fans were Itadori and Kugisaki

“Oh she’s quitting! We’re all gonna dieee!!” Itadori cried out as he kneeled to the shrine he had made in the dormitory common room.

Kugisaki cried as she held a photo book that had been summer themed. “We lost a good one! We’re gonna miss you, L/N-sama!”

“How can you guys cry over a celebrity who isn’t even dead? She’s just going on hiatus ” Megumi said at the two.

Nobara growled at the boy while tears still streamed down her face. “Shut up! You don’t get it!

They did not expect you to start going to school with them

“Okay my students! I am happy to announce that you have a new classmate joining us today!” Gojo said as he held up a peace sign.

Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi whispered to one another about their teacher’s strange behavior. “I think our teacher is on drugs.”

Yuuji nodded at the girl’s statement. “I’ve never seen Gojo-sensei this excited before.”

“He’s finally lost it.” Megumi said with a sigh.

“OI! I AM PERFECTLY FINE AND SOBER THANK YOU!” Gojo said to his students.

Gojo huffed, but his smile returned to his face soon after. “I just wanted to reveal our new student who will be joining us from now on!”

Gojo moved to the side, revealing Y/N. “Hello! My name is—”

“Y/N L/N?!? FROM THE POPULAR GIRL GROUP CHERRY BLOSSOMS?!?!!?!?”

Safe to say that they were extremely excited by the reveal

YUUJI ITADORI

He asked you to autograph all of your merch when you first met

To this day he still has stuff he wants you to sign

He tries his best not to fangirl whenever you’re fighting curses but he ultimately fails

He always tries to figure out how your cursed technique works but he can’t really wrap his brain around it

You sing him to sleep some nights and he sometimes dreams about being on a beach with you :3

If you’re taller than Yuuji (5’8/173 cm.) he’ll be ten times more fanatic around you

NOBARA KUGISAKI

Give her your skincare routine oh my god

She isn’t as crazy as Yuuji but she isn’t sane about you either

You gave her and Yuuji tickets to the show your group was performing in Tokyo since you were going to be there as a special guest

She cried tears when she saw you come out on stage

She loved you even more after that

She loves shopping with you and giving you outfit combinations that she made for you

She shares her clothes with you and you do the same, causing her to wear your hoodies around the dorms and even to go out on small errands (Yuuji gets mad at her)

She likes painting you nails and complaining about how Megumi and Yuuji don’t pull their weight on missions and make the two of you do most of the heavy lifting

You use your idol money to spoil her sometimes and she swoons at that

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

Has never heard your music a day in his life

Doesn’t even realize you were an idol. He thought you were a model since your face was everywhere in Tokyo

He listened to your group’s music and said it wasn’t something he would listen to but it was good

He listened to your solo songs

He is now a fan and he buys your merch whenever he goes out shopping and sees it

Unlike Yuuji and Nobara, he treats you like another peer of his

Hard for it to stay mutual when you hear your music being played late at night

SATORU GOJO

Gojo met you when he was sixteen and you were four

He’s always been a good student for you parents and a great babysitter for you (even though he didn’t like babysitting at the time)

When he saw that you were training to become an idol, he was so happy for you but a little sad as well

He thought you would never have time to hangout with your old babysitter who would feed you nothing but sweet stuff

But when you announced your hiatus to continue school, he may have convinced your parents to enroll you into Jujutsu High so he could see you again

He was the one who helped you find your own unique cursed technique at the young age of 9

He found you a microphone and told you to imbue it with cursed energy

The energy was (F/C)! For some reason

He compares you CT to cursed speech since your voice is used a good portion of the time

Property of Mercury Morales. Do not repost anywhere! Thank you! ʚɞ

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 4

a/n: sorry this is a bit late, Halloweekend got very busy. Enjoy!!

Other chapters

Warnings: none

Word count: 2k

“I suggest someone else take her back, she did not have a good time during the flight” Cassian says and flashes you a mischievous grin. His face drops when he sees the far away look in your eyes and the wet streaks on your cheeks “seriously though, can someone winnow her?” “I need to speak with Lucien so I can take her, but I have a few meetings until later in the afternoon” she looks to Mor “do you mind giving her a tour of the house and finding her a room in the meantime?” Mor adjusts her hair and says “of course, we can have a little girls day and get to know each other a bit. I’ll fill you in on all of our juicy gossip” she winks at you. You wipe your tears away and put on a poor excuse of a smile “that sounds great, I love to gossip”. You laugh, kind of, trying to ignore the pang in your chest. Memories of long gossip sessions with friends flashing through your mind. At coffee shops, during phone calls, at sleep-overs before you fall asleep. Amren gets up from her chair “I assume this meeting is over. I’ll see if I can find something in my personal library” and walks out. “Meeting adjourned '' Rhysand announces and the group stands to go their own ways. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, y/n” Feyre smiles and walks out of the room. Mor is waiting for you by the doorway “Come on, girl, there’s a lot to see”. 

“I think this should be your room” Mor opens the door and lets you walk in first. The tour had been… a lot to take in. The house is huge and it’s beautiful but it has about a hundred floors and a million rooms. When you step through the door, you’re not shocked to see a beautifully decorated room with an incredible view to match. Velaris, the city of starlight, Mor had told you. “It’s close to the stairs, has its own bathing room and if you pull this back” she goes towards the curtains and reveals a glass door that blends in perfectly with the wall of windows “a balcony! I think no one has claimed this one because it is a little on the smaller side but if all goes well you’ll be on your way home soon” she smiles as you look around. This room is twice the size of my room back home. The bed looks divine, it is made with expensive looking linens, it has about ten decorative pillows that take up half of the mattress. You sit on it and lay back. Good god, I’m never leaving this bed. “This is the most extravagant bed and room I’ve ever seen, let alone stayed in” months of traveling on a budget had gotten you accustomed to thin mattresses at crowded hostels or questionable spare bedrooms from online listings. This was luxury. From what you had gathered last night, a High Lord is someone akin to a king and by the looks of this “house” Rhysand has the taste and wallet of true royalty. “I can’t disagree, it is beautiful” she sits next to you “so… I was serious about the gossip. There are some things you might want to know about the whole dynamic within the Court of Dreams” you can’t help the genuine smile that comes on “tell me everything”. “I knew there was something about you that I liked” she giggles “ok so since you’ve met Lucien I guess we can start with him and Elain. This is crazy, the poor male has terrible luck. Anyways Elain is Feyre’s sister and quick backstory, Feyre and her sisters were humans but for different reasons got turned Fae a while back. Elain and Nesta got dunked in the Cauldron and that turned them. The thing is that all of us were there when it happened and when Elain came out of the Cauldron, the mating bond snapped between her and Lucien-” Oh this is good. “Mating bond?” “Oh right, a mating bond is something that happens between two people destined by the Mother, as I was saying Lucien just says it in front of everyone and Elain is there like totally in shock. Flash forward to a few weeks later her mortal fiance hates Fae and wants nothing to do with her now and she wants nothing to do with Lucien and then Azriel kind of likes Elain now” she goes on to tell you about how Feyre and Rhysand met and Cassian and Nesta. You noticed that she didn’t tell you anything about her own drama but chose to not acknowledge it. It was comforting in a way that these magical beings had personal dramas and gossiped about it like you and your friends did “those stories are wild, Mor” she nods “we’ve been alive so long that we really have to work hard to keep things interesting” you snort and there's a knock on the door. “I’m sorry to interrupt but y/n, I’m ready to go when you are” Feyre says and you quickly get up from where you’ve made yourself comfortable on the bed. “Yeah, let’s go. Thanks for everything Mor” you quickly hug her and go towards Feyre. “How are we getting there?” you ask, not sure what to expect  “I’ll winnow us, you’ll see” you walk until you reach the terrace where you had landed with Cassian earlier and look at her wearily “this place is warded against winnowing so I’ll fly us out until we pass the wards and then I’ll winnow to the Manor”. As she speaks, wings appear on her back and she holds out her hands for you “it’ll be quick. I promise” you gulp. 

Feyre did not lie when she said it would be quick but left out that it would feel like the world is slipping from your grasp. You feel sick as she puts you down. You rest your hands on your knees in an attempt to steady yourself. “It takes a bit of getting used to” she lets you take a breath and you say “It beats going through TSA”. Feyre nods and when you’ve gathered yourself begins the short walk to the manor. 

Packing up your belongings was incredibly underwhelming. You had folded the tunic you’d been using as pajamas and the dress Vassa had given you and stuffed it in your bag. Feyre and Lucien had gone to the library to talk about whatever it was they had to discuss. You had a feeling they were talking about you and if you posed a threat of some kind, feeling that the offer of staying in the House of Wind came from the Court of Dreams wanting to keep a close eye on you. You zip everything up and descend the stairs to find your hosts and thank them for everything. Walking to the kitchen you find Jurian making dinner “they really take advantage of your talents here”. He turns from where he is chopping up produce and lets out a chuckle “it’s the price I pay for pissing Vassa off”. “What did you do?” you ask but before he can answer a lovely feminine voice interjects “he was being an idiot as usual” Jurian rolls his eyes but does not defend himself. “On that note,” you try to diffuse the tension “I’ll be staying at the Night Court while they research how to get me back home, thank you so much for everything. I think I would’ve been dead days ago if it weren’t for you” Vassa pouts “I’ll be sad to see you go, it was such a relief to have some feminine energy around here, but I understand” she walks over and hugs you tightly “please come say goodbye once you’ve figured it all out” you hug her back. Jurian stays by his vegetables as he says “you have to eat dinner here though, I’m making enough for the four of us and Lucien brought pie for dessert”. Your chest warms. He really got the pie. “In that case Feyre, will have to wait” you beam. 

After dinner and dessert with the exiles Feyre lets you know she’ll be waiting outside while you say your goodbyes. You hug Vassa and kiss Jurian on the cheek. Lucien offers to walk you to the door and you take the chance to say “thank you for the pie, it was delicious”. He offers you a half smile “you’ve had a rough few days, it’s the least I can do”. “Will you come visit?” you ask hoping the answer is yes. Everyone in the Night Court seems nice enough but Lucien, Jurian and Vassa have a special place in your heart. “I’m due to go there for a meeting in a few weeks. You’re always welcome to use your room here as well” nodding you hug him and without letting go say “I’m nervous”. He hugs you back “you’re in good hands, the House of Wind is safer and you’ll have everything you need”. You let go and walk out the door. 

Feyre walks with you until you reach your room “Mor showed you the kitchen and the common areas?” you walk in and set your bag down. “Yes, she was very thorough with her tour” you felt heavy. Maybe it was the flying and winnowing or saying goodbye or the weight of your reality crashing down on you. “Alright, try to sleep, if you need anything ask the house and if there’s an emergency you can wake up Azriel, his room is across the hall”. You remember him from earlier, tall, wings and devastatingly handsome. Historically, you had never figured out how to act around attractive men and during the meeting it was incredibly difficult to focus on retelling your story. “Thank you, Feyre” she goes to walk out and says “I’ll let you know tomorrow when the priestesses begin their research so you can join them if you like”. 

Wait, did she say ask the house if I need anything? You go to ask her but she’s gone. “House? Can I have water?” you ask to see if you had heard correctly. You are shocked when you see a tray with a jug of water and a glass appear on the bedside table. That is the best thing I’ve ever seen. You do your night routine: you bathe, brush your teeth and hair and put on your tunic. You pull the covers from the bed and get cozy. The house turns off the lights and the curtains are open, letting through the shine of the city and the stars. During the day it’s easier to ignore the ever growing helplessness. It feels like you’re drowning in it. Trapped in a glass coffin in between space and time. You feel your throat get tighter and your chest feels hollow and- Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Count the stars, do something. Your mind screams. One, two, three, four, this isn’t working. You get an idea. Getting out of bed and walking towards your bag you pull out your phone. You haven’t used it since… well, since everything. It should be charged. Your heart skips when the screen lights up and you scroll to your photos as quickly as you can. Forty-five percent. You see a picture of your dog that your mom had sent you on your last day on Earth and tears well up. It hurts but it brings you comfort to know that they have each other. Committing the picture to memory, you shut it off and get in bed again. They have each other. They are not alone. Eventually sleep takes over. Mercifully, you have no dreams.

The house had closed the curtains after you fell asleep. When you woke up to a dark room you almost thought you had slept through an entire day. Sensing you had awoken, the curtains flew open and you see the sun above the city. It looks like it’s still early. You put on your dress and go have breakfast in the dining room. Azriel is the only one there. “Good morning” he greets. You fiddle with your dress, suddenly aware of the dirt that’s staining the hem and the way it falls off your shoulder. “Good morning”.

[be-my-ally]

"...Elvis has left for Graceland."

This is, uh, what I did with some *generally helpful information* about mirrors in Graceland (although tbh there's not even that many references to them here) and bde withdrawals. I lied - I thought my empty promises wip would be out first, but when inspiration hits and a shorter fic just pops out of your fingers - and the alternative is the dreaded editing, you end up with this instead! Enjoy my lovelies - this is also a little (ok a lot) for @thatbanditqueen - enjoy the references to red Graceland, the correct suit for the exact date, and even his exact upper of choice in spring summer ’74! Oh! and the dress pictured below is YSL from 1973 xx (and also @ellie-24, and @whositmcwhatsit for encouraging me! Surprise! We were discussing films and I was writing this!)

summary: you’re elvis’ girlfriend circa ’74, and have a lot of fun congratulating him after his recorded show in Memphis. 

pairing: afab!reader x elvis (of the big daddy flavour)

warnings: 18+, thigh-riding, the ripping of an expensive rental dress, big daddy elvis in all his big daddy-ness, yet again - reader sucks his tits idk man I didn’t think was gonna be a kink for me but clearly it is, v. minor references to his drug abuse, p in v sex, uhhhh…. Oh mirrors! I know Graceland wasn’t as, uh, dirty as Hillcrest but I think he still had enough fun there, Elvis keeps his jumpsuit on. this is essentially unedited so pls ignore any typos - I'll give it a look over in the morning!

wc: 4.1k - We did it baby! Concise smut!!

March 20th 1974 - Mid-South Coliseum Memphis

“…Elvis has left for Graceland.” 

You’re delayed in leaving - a problem with the valet, or the sound, or something that someone has to sort out - so despite the fact that Elvis himself has left you are stood, waiting, with a couple of the mafia boys for the other car to be brought around. Undoubtedly to be stuck in the hordes of fans and traffic on the way out. You hated being stood exposed like this, it made you feel like people’s wandering glances weren’t just sizing up the King’s new girlfriend, but laughing at you - at how you’re no more special than the rest of them. Stood in much the same way they all were. Left behind while he was whisked away to his palace. 

The temperature had dropped since you’d arrived here earlier, and you wished you’d thought to bring a jacket but the weather was just starting to warm up and you’d been thrilled to be able to wear a little strappy number - a little part of you, or maybe a large part, wanting to show off a little for the home crowd. Silver and diamanté straps that held up the draping gently twisted fabric that flowed in a column, brushing your curves - it was, expensive and flashy in a subtle way - it was almost too much for the concert. But, as always, you’d been outshined by Elvis’ own crystals - the stark white of his sparkling jumpsuit brighter than any of the stage lights. You’d worn it mostly for him though, despite the fact that he’d barely glanced at you in it.

By the time you’re all loaded into the car, heading the barely ten miles towards Graceland, the novelty of passing down Elvis Presley Boulevard from an Elvis Presley concert to go and see Elvis Presley still hadn’t waned. You smile a little at yourself and you can feel Charlie laughing from the other side of the backseat of the car, “God makes me laugh every time I see that damn sign - as if he needed a bigger head!” You laugh with him, but you can hear the affection in his voice - as if you were being let in to a joke of the inner circle; the joke about his large head being simultaneously true but also at odds with his nerves mere hours ago. Despite your traffic fears you make quick progress and it’s mere minutes before you’re pulling up to the drive, parting the crowd and through the gates. You’re quick out of the car but you’re surprised not to see or hear him when you walk through the front door, until Billy, coming around the corner, sees you and points upstairs. You nod and thank him but, not seeing the point in rushing if he’d gone to bed, you head to the kitchen - fetching a drink and take your time finishing it. You start to slowly make your way up the main staircase, stopping to check yourself out in the large mirror on the wall, reapplying a little lipstick just in case he was awake. 

When you walk in, he’s pacing at the bottom of his bed, still in the sweaty white jumpsuit, walking back and forth, he gestures past his padded doors, towards the landing and the huge mirrors he’d recently had installed on the ceiling to match those on the walls. “Saw you take your time, something more important than me baby?” You frown, shaking your head - you forget, when at Graceland, that his eyes are everywhere; even as much as in Hillcrest. 

“Course not babe, of course not!” He tuts, but you’d not been expected him to look so awake so you hadn’t thought you’d had to rush up to him; despite your desire to see him, and congratulate him on the show. So you have no words to your defence - you can’t exactly tell him you expected he’d be half out of it by now. You glance over at the gold foiled nightstand on his side - the orange bottle for his dexedrine open and on display. He follows your gaze, his own eyes hardening a little, tiny little lines forming on the edge of his still-linered lids. Neither of you mention his sudden burst of energy and where it came from. He turns back to you, hands on his hips. It draws your attention to his outfit. He’d not even changed from his stage jumpsuit - a rarity since he was almost always in his robe by the time he’d passed through his bedroom doors. It strangely matches well in the dark, red, interior of the room - red crystals of the fire suit almost the exact colour of the carpet. But it also, oddly, made him stand out even more - the crystals seeming like they were everywhere, like he was made to be stood in this room; reflecting across the mirrors, and emphasising the white of the jumpsuit - his skin jumping out. The zipper was low, as it had been all night and you rake your eyes over his exposed skin. He’d been exceptionally physical tonight, the showmanship spectacular and it was displayed in his chest and stomach shimmering with his still drying sweat. You feel yourself growing wet. 

“Shut the door honey,” You do as you’re told, he’s gruff, almost as if he feels he should be apologetic but would never admit it, “Not had time lately have we, huh, baby?” You shake your head in response, uncertain what to say -  you hadn’t, he’d been so busy worrying about these concerts, and then afterwards about the live recording - about the intricacies of the sound, of how the crowd noise will be isolated. It meant that as excited as you were to see him perform in Memphis, in his home - you were more excited to get past it to the month long break he was going to have. But you also knew how privileged you were to get any time with him at all, and you knew how quickly his moods changed lately. Unwilling to say anything that might make him reconsider his plans and head back downstairs, leave you alone, waiting and wanting while he entertained. 

“Well. We’re here now.” He moves over to you, determinedly catching you in a kiss. You squirm a little, eyes closed, trying to will away the thought that you weren’t the only woman he’d kissed this evening, force away the images of him with the girls in the front row. There was fewer than normal, chaste pecks on the cheek - he didn’t want to mess up the recording after all. But still, you’d felt the envy growing in you, jealousy burning through your veins. He makes you forget this though, as he rubs his hands down your arms, warming where they’d already grown cold in the frigid air of his bedroom and his tongue slips deeper into you. You can taste the gatorade of the night, mixed with the sparkling water he’d probably downed along with his uppers - the faint tingle of the carbon dioxide still present. He kisses down your cheek to your throat, leaving traces of your freshly applied lipstick from your own lips before he turns you around, facing the headboard, and walks you towards the bed - your legs bump against the end. He tugs at the straps that cross on your back, impatient. You wince, trying to stop him; 

“Elvis, baby, it’s a - a rental, gotta be careful, it’s one of a kind -“ 

“Fuckin’ fancy shit - get it off then, fuckin’ hate when you don’t just let me buy you -”  Despite his harsh words he kisses across your shoulder in between his words. You cut him off, 

“It’s not for sale El, so you couldn’t have even -“ 

“You tellin’ me what I can or can’t do now mama?” He toys with the strap, you think fast trying to stop what you’re sure is coming - 

“El, seriously - I didn’t mean it like that I just - ah!” He pulls the chain clean off - square crystals spilling over the bed. 

“Fuck - E!” He yanks the other one, this time accompanied by a little tearing noise as the seam rips from the back. Before you have time to protest any longer he’s pushing down the twisted top, your breasts popping out. He grabs your chin, pointing it towards the back of the bed - where the large mirror hangs - you can see yourself reflecting from the mirrors on the other walls too - the glances of different angles almost overwhelming. 

“Look at yourself.” He maintains his grip on your chin while palming one of his simultaneously thick but still sleek hands across your boob. He twists a nipple as you gasp, pulling it out a little. He pushes you up with his other hand, forcing you to balance on your knees on the end the bed, his own thigh coming in between to force them further apart and support some of your weight as you sink down a little. He hikes the long length of the dress up, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to hold it up yourself although the maxi-skirt still drapes and covers your modesty. He lets go of your face, pulling you back against him harder with both hands, and his stomach, more pronounced than before, bumps against your back. You stare, mouth open, as you watch his large hands span across your waist. His head is bent over into the crook of your neck, sucking a bruise onto the dip of your collarbone, his sweaty, fluffy, hair tickling your chin. He moves his leg a little, bending his knee onto the bed too, forcing it further into your crotch, allowing you to grind down on him. 

He pushes you down himself, hands on your hip bones and the soft flesh there, moving you in little circles feeling you rub against him. He suddenly, frantically, pushes the dress up further - exposing you entirely. You gasp, as he unveils your little secret of the night - not only had you not bothered with a bra - the dress being far too revealing for it, but the soft slippy fabric had clung to whatever underwear you had tried, ultimately leaving you to go commando for the night as well. He grunts against your skin, looking at you in the mirror over your shoulder, 

“You been like that all night, honey?” He traces a finger over the undercurve of the swell of your tummy, tickling a little, as he rotates it in little circles - teasing you in its pattern that’s reminiscent of how he often touches you. 

“Ye-es, they - they showed through,” He tucks your ass into him, his belt digging into you, and preoccupies himself with stroking a finger the length of your vulva, his thigh slightly getting in the way until you push yourself up a little more. 

“Surprised you ain’t already ruined that dress, how wet you are - bet you were drippin’ all over the place. Watching me.” He presses a finger into you, just the very tip, gently, his other hand coming back up to your nipple - you clutch at his arms; “Weren’t you?” 

“Probably, probably E - can’t help it around you, not when you’re performin’ looking so good -” He laughs, pulling his finger away, crooking it as he pulls it up - knocking one of his huge rings against your clit. He draws you back - his body moving with his laugh causing you to bounce you on his thigh. You let out a gasp that quickly turns to a moan, 

“You think I look good darling?” You meet his eyes in the mirror, they’re bright and impish; a smug little smile on his face. Any other time you might have teased him - but not today. Not with your angle changing slightly when he pushes you forwards a little, his broad, large thigh pressing firmly into you again, you can feel your labia spreading against his jumpsuit, tight weave of the dancer’s gabardine rubbing against you. You bob your head quickly; 

 “Of course, of course E - you look, looked amazing; don’t want you to take it off.” He laughs, as if you’ve given him an idea - or perhaps confirmed something he thought before, 

“Well, don’t be shy - prove it to me baby.” You gape at him, trying to twist around to do something - although you’re not sure what, to prove it to him, but he stills you with both hands holding you in place. Before he lifts you, manhandling you where he wants you as he pulls you off of him - moving to sit down on the fluffy circular chair in the corner, he keeps a hold of you as he goes, but allows you to turn, before yanking you back onto his lap. Resting your legs on either side of one of his thighs. You can feel the crystals on your inner thighs, rubbing against you and you’re sure you’re gonna have a weird form of beard-burn by the time you get up, but you don’t let it stop you and you rock back and forth on him. He takes a second to strip your dress completely off, leaving you completely nude where before your belly button had been afforded a little modesty but nowhere else and you brace yourself with hands on his shoulders to arch your back, pushing your tits out and grind down on him.

“That’s it baby, show me how much you love this ‘suit, want you to get me all wet darling, not letting you up till there’s a spot on me,” You can feel your heat rising just from his words, and the rough material under you provides just enough friction for you to feel yourself getting close. 

He pulls you closer to him, so that you’re rocking your body practically into his crotch, and the movement is pulling the jumpsuit off of his chest a little, the tiniest hint of a nipple peeking out. You lean forward, rocking against him and shifting your balance with your arms around his neck for stability. You can feel every part of the chest section of the jumpsuit rubbing against your skin, pinkening it with the feel of the stones but, as your own nipple catches between a group of them with a little prickle of pain, you can’t help but moan, it only adding to to your building pleasure. He lets out his own little grunt as you move your head to his neck - causing him to fall back against the chair further. You’re practically horizontal now, although his feet remain on the floor and it puts your cheek in contact with his chest. You nuzzle into him, unable to resist licking when he’s so close - so shiny, so tempting. He bucks his hips as you do as if you’ve unlocked a hidden sensitivity of his. It only spurs you on more, moving to suckle on his little pink nipple, one of your hands coming away from his neck to stroke his chest hair. You only realise you’d zoned everything but his chest out when you feel a hand in your hair, pulling your head back and you suddenly realise he’s been talking, babbling at you, the whole time but you’d had such a single-minded focus you’d not even noticed. 

“Lord baby, you gots a hot little mouth, hot fucking little lips. God baby, your tongue, where’d you learn to do that, huh? Liable to make a man cream his pants like that, honey, and wouldn’t that be a waste?” He strokes your face and you smile, looking up at him, as he lets go of your hair and rubs his hands down your sides again. It’s only a moment later when he’s hauling you off of him, struggling to his feet. You stand there, flushed but growing colder in the frigid air with every moment that passes without being pressed against his burning body heat, your nipples pebbling. You watch as he surveys the room for a moment, his own arousal more than a little apparent in the stretchy fabric of the jumpsuit - before sighing, 

“Simple’s the best. Right honey?” 

“Sure, I’m - I’m sure that’s right El,” You agree, but not really knowing what you’re answering and he catches you by the arm pushing you backwards onto the bed, you gasp and scrabble backwards at his insistent pushing. A moment later you understand as he’s pulling the belt off, unzipping himself finally and, - oh, he’s not taking it off, he’s just unzipping the suit all the way, pulling his cock out. You groan, head falling back against the mountain of pillows. You’d never, never have mentioned how much you wanted this, to have his thick powerful body still encased in his jumpsuit as he fucks you. His magnetism, the sexual energy from the concert and his presence on the stage being impressed upon you with every brush of your naked body against the fabric - against the rhinestones. 

He pulls himself back a little before slipping a finger into you, ring bumping against your folds, it sinks in easily - you’re already so ready, just from bouncing on his thigh, and to be honest you’d been wet enough from the moment Also Sprach Zarathustra had turned into See See Rider. He hums, pleased that you’re soaking for him, and he doesn’t wipe off his finger before pushing it into your mouth, 

“That’s it baby, suck it off, taste yourself on me,” You obediently do as he says, sucking down - hollowing your cheeks, eyes wide. He pulls it out to balance himself on one hand, grasping his cock in the other, pumping it a couple times before lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Better be ready for me honey - ‘cause I’m sure as hell ready to sink into your tight little cunt.” You gasp as he doesn’t even wait for a reply, pushing himself into you. He’s pressing into you from all angles as you slowly adjust to his length within you, his soft tummy - crystals pressing into you from above, his musky chest just below your eye-line and his arm bracketing you into him from the other side of your neck. He stills for a second, before leaping into motion, struggling slightly to move himself more upright, keeping himself in you and pulling you close against him with a hold on your hips. You’re on your back while he kneels up now, allowing him to lift your butt a little, and thrust a little deeper. You squirm on him, little moans and gasps being released - you’ve not yet been able to get past having had the bedroom next to your parents growing up. He grabs your hips now, rings pressing in tight, to move your body onto him as he pumps into you. He’s talking the whole time - the man’s unable to stay quiet any moment he’s awake - 

“Oh god darling, never gonna be able to wear this suit ‘gain, Lord how’re you, so -” He thrusts in, hard, to punctuate his next sentence - “so - fucking - tight.” His breathing is already growing heavier, “How’re you so goddamn tight - like Lil’ Elvis is caught in a - ah - fucking vice. God, look at you.” 

You look up at him, fresh sweat starting to form at his chest and brow, he’s not even looking at you though, and you wonder who that last comment had been aimed at as he’s staring at his own reflection in the mirror. You’re glad though, when he smiles - eyes bright when he does glance back at you; whatever he’d seen had clearly cheered him up and out of his self-conscious mood, enough to encourage a sudden burst of energy again. He drags you back, lifting his own hips enough to spear into you at just the right angle. As he hits that perfect spot inside of you repeatedly he moves his hand from where it was still clutching your hip to stroke down across your mound, it’s a slightly awkward angle but he manages to swipe his thumb perfectly across your clit - your leg jerking, and your back arching in response. 

“Oh - Elvis, oh god, I’m so fucking close - babe you gotta, just keep -” He grunts above you, his thumb keeping pace, and his cock thrusting in at the same speed. It’s mere seconds, 

“Fuck - baby, you’re squeezin’ ‘round me so fuckin’ ti-ght, that’s a good fucking girl, my good girl.” Before it’s enough to send you over the edge, clenching down on him and shuddering, your mouth agape and your eyes shuttering closed as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 

“Oh, oh - god, Elvis -” His pace changes, and it drags you back from floating, as he just goes for it at a rapid pace, fingernails clawing at your skin, before his hips are stuttering and he’s quickly pulling out as the first streaks of his ejaculate shoot across your pussy, he pulls himself up, pumping it across your tummy, and you moan at the sight - him looking goddamn regal - sparkling in the dim light as he shoots across you. He moves one of his hands to rub it over you, between your folds and over your stomach -  into your belly button. Before he collapses on top of you,  practically smothering you, in an effort to reach your mouth to kiss you - your legs are so tired and tense but you can just about lift them up to come around to grasp at him, barely noticing the now-familiar scratch of the rhinestones, locking your ankles over his back. You’re probably smearing cum all over the jumpsuit but you don’t care - too desperate to feel him close to you. You lock lips for a long moment, letting him take whatever he wants, underneath him like this it’s difficult to feel anything but utterly submissive and at his mercy. Your lips are bitten and raw by the time he pulls away and rolls off of you, and you can’t do anything but lie there, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You look over at him, and he’s in practically the exact same position, soft matted chest hair wet with sweat and his little rounded tummy poking out of the unzipped suit with his now soft cock resting outside too, but smiling up at the ceiling - 

“Wish I still had my scarf - wouldn’t even have to get up to find something to wipe us down with,” You laugh with him, just barely getting the effort yourself to stand, on shaky legs, you’re sweaty and damp yourself and you can’t imagine how he feels - going straight into this after a two hour long concert, so you chivvy him up, 

“C’mon then El, I’ll run us a bath - we can get all clean together,” He hums, sounding as if he’s close to his come down already, 

“ ’S-ok little one, I can - just need a, a, wipe down.” You frown, you like his musk but no way in hell are you getting back into bed with him like this, but you’re not quite sure how to say it without starting an argument, when strangely, for once - Elvis seems to sense your reluctance, “Alright, alright, fine. But only if I get you all wet and warm in my lap,” he laughs to himself again, “well - warm and wet again - huh, darlin’,” You giggle with him, walking gingerly to put the bath on, and as you stand up he’s already stood behind you - crowding you against the dark bathroom wall, stroking your sides with his thick fingers, he tips your chin up to look you right in the eyes - “Thank you for that though little one, needed - needed to see how much you like me, see me again, been - I’ve been so distracted I ain’t had chance to even look at myself in weeks.” You smile, 

“Of course Elvis, I’m all yours - anytime.” You pause, wondering if you should mention it, “Seriously though - we’re gonna have to get Bill or Ciro -  someone’s gotta fix that dress,” He just laughs at you, shaking his head - 

“Honey, I told you - I’ll just buy it.”