#I AM DOWN BAD...FOR A DUCK???
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started watching ducktales, Disney I will never forgive you for casting DAVID TENNANT AS SCROOGE MCDUCK
#I AM DOWN BAD...FOR A DUCK???#anyways hi hello ducktales fandom it is me your local dilf enjoyer-#I AM LEGALLY OBLIGATED TO SIMP FOR EVERY DAVID TENNANT CHARACTER EVER#ducktales 2017#scrooge mcduck
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#chattin#nothing bad or spicy i just feel like peep peeping rn#📢🐀!#but there is talk of panic attacks and Bad Stims up ahead (not related to me dw) ->#i was thinking of autistic peppino bc i am planning out the vigilante comic in my head#and like the quick premise is that vigilante comes into the pizzeria and shoots a blank into the ceiling to get everyone to shut up#and quiet down so he can go ask for (demand really) to see peppino bc this fuckerhas a bounty FOR A REASON and hes here to find out why#bc u know; cowboy yeehaw shenanigans#only its like 5am and no one is there jdkdndjdndk he just saw the lights one and went BANGBANG#anyway peppino is in the back cowering bc someone came into his fucking shop and started shooting UNPROMPTED#and hes so fucking scared and unwilling to move and when he sees someone actually come through the back door he starts having a legitimate-#-panic attack and he starts doing the stimmy hands thing over his ducked head#and vigilante is like whoa whoa WHOA WHOA HOL UP WHATS HAPPENIN#like i dont think peppino has ‘happy stims’ he has ‘extremely self soothing’ stims#that include flapping but only if hes so unbelievably stressed that he cant think#or he has more violent ones like pulling at his hair and biting his hands#that on top of like a genuine panic attack where he cant breathe and he thinks his heart is stopping is 😵💫#vigilante is like christ almighty what the fucks got you so damned spooked?? like he doesnt even think of the blank he shot#he assumed someone came in before him or something#and hes like oh shit wait thats mE I DID THAT I SCARED HIM#i am still planning it out but yes. autistic peppino is on my mind 😊#in a more positive light hes very earnest; and good at his job bc cooking in an interest of his#and his responses in social situations are bizarre enough sometimes to wrap back around to endearing#also its an excuse to draw peppino looking very confused but happy and gustavo somewhere in the shot going-#‘the bad bitch i pulled in by being autistic’#swag#ALSO THE TAG IS BACK so i guess i can doodle again heehee
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😕
#scheduled my cat to be put down this Friday#don’t wanna make a post about it but I wanna talk about it#asked my mom to come with to drive me and do the talking. dad asked to come too#except he doesn’t do earnest emotions well and says really stupid and insensitive shit when people are emoting#and I will be sobbing through all this. I already am#on a zoom call with family so they can say goodbye to Chloe and he’s going on about how bad she is sees I’m trying not to cry and says#gee! I don’t think she’ll make it through this! hohoho!#I don’t want anyone to be there with me at all but I know I just won’t be able to talk to the vet and pay#really just a fucked up year. ducked up like 6 years running but whatever#really tired but I can’t sleep. don’t want to talk to people but isolated#I want Chloe’s suffering to be over but I don’t want to let her go.#meanwhile I have bumble person on discord talking to me and it feels like such a slog. I want to ghost. I’m just tired in them and having#to keep up this like essays long reply chain about the minutia of our lives that doesn’t change ever#but that also feels mean because they haven’t been pushy and have been really considerate even when they asked to meet again and I said to#hold off because of my cat and it’s been like two weeks#I haven’t been in instagram because I don’t want fish store person to ask me out#trying to get stuff done for friends baby but realized in all this mess I forgot to block anything. feel like such a failure at everything#making baby presents. keeping my cat alive. making connections#I just don’t want to be perceived at all. I feel like such a non entity#or rather I feel like I should be a non entity. a picture on the wall of a disused room.#I’m so tired.
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i can never show my face to my peers again
#speculation nation#DONT LOOK AT MEEEEE i am so sorry#me just staring at this having no real idea how to do the fucking. image file transfer. much less Threading.#i do have the if statements set up. that's basic coding though.#im just very sleepy and i have only 2.5 more hours and i need to have the images set up at the MINIMUM#bc that's the core function of this. the threading doesnt necessarily matter. it's the Images that decide it#god im so tired. ugh.#whose bright idea was it to save this to the last minute and then pull an all nighter#and then not even use the all nighter to work on their code?#oh right. it was me.#what did i do instead? Well. talk about my fanfiction. plan about my fanfiction. reread my fanfiction. talk about my fanfiction some more.#trigun U have done bad things to my brain. very bad things. i am deceased. perished. dead on the side of 70#floating face down in the bog. im duck food now.#responsibility is only a facet of a dream for me. and i am oh so tired.
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#Today the boss decided to change out the sale table in the middle of the day without any warning whatsoever#then she jumped down my throat about my attitude when I expressed my surprise by saying ‘right now? where are we going to put it all?’#(for context: we have a tiny back room. I have been trying to bend the laws of physics for months to get the overstock to fit in it)#to me it was a non-issue. I was going to carry out whatever she wanted anyway because. she’s the boss.#like I’m just the peon. what the fuck am I gonna do? Say no??#but I’m apparently ‘always questioning her’ and I ‘think I can do it better than her’ and#she’s ‘been in the business longer than I’ve been alive’ (false)#she was literally lecturing me like I was some child that needed scolding. and I couldn’t leave the back room to go do what she asked#because she was blocking the way. because our back room is TINY.#I took a second to cool off after it happened and waited for the store to empty out before apologising#like I actually tried to say ‘I’m sorry it wasn’t my intention to question your efficacy as a businesswoman’#but she just kept cutting me off every time I tried to get through the apology. wouldn’t even accept or acknowledge the apology#just ‘NOPE. NO. IT’S OVER. IT’S DONE. NO HARD FEELINGS. NO GRUDGES’#oh??? no grudges??? sure sounds like she’s been holding a grudge against me for saying anything that she feels is questioning her authority#apparently this has 'been a problem for a while' but she's been 'letting it slide'#like. um. Maybe? she should have taken me aside and. talked to me about it? LIKE AN ADULT??#Before letting it get so bad that she blows up in my face about it??#like she was actually *yelling* at me in that back room.#this kind of blowup doesn’t just happen to people who let shit roll off their back like water off a duck#how the fuck can I trust that she isn’t just harbouring some other grudge that’s going to blow up in my face randomly without warning now??#you want attitude hon? you don’t even know what attitude is#if I’m gonna be vilified for being surprised and having opinions then I’m just gonna start acting like a fucking cartoon henchman at work#I mean. I’m not paid enough to think. so I’ll just let her make al’ the decisions. even the little ones.#WHADDA YOU WANT ME TA DO BOSS?#I DUNNO BOSS WHADDA YOU TINK I SHUD DO?#WHATEVA YOU SAY BOSS#HEY BOSS CAN I GO PEE NOW BOSS#WHERE DO I GO PEE BOSS?#no fucken grudges huh?#thanks for the new grudge boss. I'll be keeping this one for a loooonnnnng time
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in-school-suspension was honestly so extremely funny because i had undiagnosed Problems Disorder and unironically i LOVED being sent to ISS.
average day of ISS (sent there for 3 days because i was late to a class three times within a 9-week period):
arrive at school and say a silly dramatic farewell to my besties
stop at each of my classrooms to receive makeup work from my teachers which always ends up being some bullshit worksheet or textbook busywork
arrive at ISS portable and go through the daily rigamarole intro of "you are Bad and you should Feel Bad. welcome to Bad Class, a confirmation that you will never make anything of your life, you horrid creature. you are not allowed to speak, eat, or feel joy. no doodling or reading, if you don't have makeup work or homework i will assign busywork to you. fuck you. *spits*"
spend the next 4 hours doing my busywork. it is QUIET. i can CONCENTRATE. the work gets DONE EARLY.
the work only took 2 hours maximum, i spend the other 2 hours writing fanfiction manually in a composition book pretending that I'm doing textbook work. i am having the time of my life.
our lunch time is the 10 minutes between the two lunch periods. there is no line, because there's only ever 5-15 ISS students. i get to EAT instead of STANDING IN A LINE for half an hour and only having 4 minutes to scarf down my garbage.
at the end of lunch, we are led in a big duck line through the school and we each get to stop off at our usual classes and pick up work to do. i already did this in the morning, so i use my time to say hi to my friends and figure out what the homework will be tonight.
for the last 2 hours of the day i do my homework. IT GETS DONE. this is the ONLY time during high school where homework gets done. zero exaggeration. i never did homework unless i was actively in a classroom with no choice but to do homework.
we get the usual outro of "this has been your day in Bad Class, because you're a Bad Child. some of you will be here tomorrow, some of you will not, but i'll see you again in a couple of weeks, because you are Bad and will always be Bad."
the school day is over, i did not encounter any of my bullies, i did not have to 'participate in class'. i got all of my work done and then some. i got to work on my fanfics. i hang out with my friends after school and talk to others on myspace/facebook.
it is the best three days i have in recent memory.
i will be there again, probably on purpose.
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shhhhHHHHHUTUPIDONTWANTTOTALKABOUTIT
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The first time you sleep over Katsuki’s, it’s not long after he’s moved into his apartment with the rest of his friends.
Which is bold, the only one who doesn’t flirt with you any chance they get is Mina -mainly because she has her own place- but she’s always telling Katsuki that the minute you get bored with him, she’s there to swoop in.
But his friends waste no time in making sure to rile Katsuki up with cheesy pickup lines that mean nothing to you, but everything to him. He hates the idea of having his friends hit on you, but you’d be lying if riling him up wasn’t exhilarating.
You smile as you hear bare feet pad along the tiling of the kitchen, a massive presence looming behind you; it’s warm, loving, and you feel yourself relaxing at the closeness.
“Morning,” he rasps, arms wrapping around your waist. You smile and curl against him, tipping your head back to look at him.
“You hungry?”
“You didn’t have to make us breakfast,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to the curve of your neck.
You mewl and bend your arm to wrap around him, “I know, I just wanted to do something nice for my man and his friends for being such good company last night.”
He grumbles, “don’t ever refer to my roommates as ‘good.’ Bunch of fucking menaces and creeps.”
“They can’t be too bad,” you hum, turning off the stove. God knows how long you’ll both be drooling with affection. “After all, you let me meet them,” you coo. “And you’d never let your little baby be put in danger.”
“Fucking hate when you call yourself that,” he snaps, spidering his fingers up your side. You squeal and shrink to the side, only to be met with pokes on the other. “Katsuki!”
“Don’t be a little shit and I won’t have to torment you,” he snickers. You’re quick to flick off the stove with what little movement your arms can give you while protecting you from tickles, and you duck as fast as you can under his caging limbs to escape.
He must like the challenge, because he lets you go, only to barrel after you into the living room. A small coffee table separates you both, and you’re at a standstill as you watch each other.
“Katsuki!” You giggle, making a sudden dart to try and throw him off your trail. It doesn’t deter him, like he’s able to predict what you’re going to do before you do. “Y-You’re gonna wake everyone up!”
“I’m not gonna do a fuckin’ thing,” he snorts. “You’re the one screaming and whining.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“Are not-“
“I think it’s bold of you to argue with me instead of sprinting away.” He shrugs, making a dash for you and wasting no time in grabbing you into his big arms. You writhe and laugh in his grip, desperate to not shriek and wake his poor roommates. Giggles bubble wildly over your lips, and he hauls you back into the kitchen before plopping you onto the countertop, distant from the stove. You instinctively move your hands to card his blonde hair, and he leans in to steal the last of your giggles from your lips.
“How much time we got before breakfast burns?” He mumbles, hands smoothing up your thighs. Crimson eyes glimmer with mischief, and he bumps your nose with his.
You chuckle and shake your head, legs wrapping around his thick waist, “it was burning before you came in; I turned off the stove so it wouldn’t burst into flames.”
He snorts, “good.” One of the hands resting on the meat of your thighs comes up to grip your chin, “now I don’t have to rush.”
“Ew,” you giggle, but it dies as quickly as you said it when he connects your kiss, working his lips against yours in this own way, full of passion and love with just enough tease to have you whimper.
The hand on your cheek shifts down to rest on your delicate throat, dangling like a necklace. A subtle act of dominance to make you shiver.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.
“I love you more-“
“Ewwwww!!!”
“Who knew he had a weakness?”
“Lookin’ good, Dynamight!”
Immediately, Katsuki’s shoulders hike up as the shrill voices from his friends ring through the air. You let out a string of laughter while the other boys you were visiting peer around the wall of the apartment, Sero with a face of disgust, Kirishima with a playful understanding and Kaminari with a cheesy bite of his lip.
“I’m going to KILL YOU IDIOTS!” He barks, abandoning you to dash over to the trio, mainly targeting Kaminari and Sero, who sprint away as fast as they can. Kirishima chuckles and makes his way over to you, helping you off the counter with a sigh.
“How’s he ever going to keep being Number One if you keep doing this to him?”
You snort and elbow his ribs while somewhere in the house, Katsuki caught Denki, and the screams ring loudly in the walls.
“Shut up and help me remake breakfast, dickhead.”
#I MISSED WRITING FOR HIM U G H#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x gn!reader#bakugou katsuki x reader fluff#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki bnha#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader fluff#bakugou x gn!reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou bnha#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha x reader#bnha x reader fluff#bnha imagine#bnha x gn!reader#bnha x gender neutral reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#bnha x yn
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lipgloss and kisses
pairing: enhypen x gn!reader
synopsis: he watches you put it on and he loves to take it off.
warnings: fluff, skinship, suggestive-ish for hyung line except sunghoon, swearing, humour levels: bad, proof read ig
library: enhypen bookshelf
heeseung
one word. impatient.
heeseung obviously thought you looked good with lip gloss. in fact he thought you looked good in anything. lip balm, lipstick, lip oil, whatever that was... the reason behind it wasn't the product, it was you.
you just had such kissable lips. he had always thought so. even before you got together. heeseung liked you so much to the point any time you'd bring out some lip balm, all his attention would be focused on your lips. it was a bit strange, he couldn't deny that. but heeseung also couldn't help that you were just so captivating. the care you took to put it on, ensuring nothing escaped the borders and if it had, the swipe of your finger that tugged those pretty lips down... god... it was a lot.
honestly, you spent a lot of money on lip products. the reason? heeseung.
that man was always kissing you. on the bus, during your night routine, before bed, when you wake up, when you cleaned the dishes together, after being a part for a mere half hour....
and it wasn't just a peck. no. it was like heeseung was consuming you're entire essence. he would be breathing heavily, hand supporting the back of your neck to bring your closer if possible, kissing you as if he had been waiting a lifetime to do so. small gasps would fall from your lips while he nibbled down slightly, tugging and pulling at what was purely swollen by this point.
you lost more product than you put on. take now for instance because this is how it played out every single time. especially in the case of your stupid lipgloss.
you were getting ready for the day, adding your final touches. heeseung, who was only half dressed, still sporting his sweatpants from the night, had his arms slung around your neck, chin nestling into your collarbone, being his usual clingy morning self as you began to apply your lipgloss.
heeseung, finally registering you were putting on the lip gloss, whispered in your ear. "come on, a little faster, baby."
"hee," you whined, cheeks beginning to burn already. this was it. you could barely get through putting anything on your lips without him urging you to hurry up so he could kiss you. "stop! i always have to reapply because of you. i'm not going to kiss you."
heeseung just smiled softly, leaving gentle kisses on your neck. you sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain your focus. "why do you make this so difficult?" you mumbled, carefully applying the gloss to your bottom lip.
you could hear a huff of amusement slip out of heeseung's mouth. "you are one to talk... you know how i feel about your lips. yet you torture me every single day."
you suppressed your eye roll at your boyfriend's theatrics. "not my fault you're down so bad."
heeseung poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, now watching you finish up without a word to say.
you had barely put the wand down let alone in the tube when heeseung's hand gently travelled to your chin, turning your head slightly so he could duck down and bring his lips to yours.
your half-groan and half-squeal turned muffled. your grip around the applicator tightened as you fell victim to the very thing you had been trying to stop. not that you were trying hard or anything. the gasp you released when he nibbled down allowed him to make a mess of you, slipping his tongue in to mix with your own and dance with the rhythm of your heavy pants.
heeseung finally parted, chest rising up and down with heavy breaths. his finger tugged down your bottom lip, only little remnants of your lip gloss dotting it. he sighed with a small smile. "you were right. i am down bad."
jongseong
the first time jay saw you apply lipgloss in a mirror, he was hooked. he only had to see you do it once and the following day, he brought several lipglosses for you.
it was like a side quest for him. every time he gifted you anything, a lip gloss would be on the side. or when you were literally out for groceries, you'd find him in the cosmetics aisle and he'd turn to with a lipgloss on hand. grabbing your hand, he'd pull you closer to him and start to compare the lipgloss in the packaging to your lips. "hmm... i don't know... maybe the red one would be better."
as much as you loved it, you were beginning to complain once your draw began to fill up with several tubes of gloss, covering any other item you had in sight. what were you supposed to do with this much lipgloss? furthermore, they actually had a shelf life.... they expired.
when you brought this up to jay, he gave you the most careless shrug. "i'll just get new ones. besides, all you have to do is put them on. i'll just take it off."
oh?
oh.
jay would also be so fucking sulky if his favourite colour was changed or discontinued. it wouldn't be obvious at first but after finding out, he'd let out little sighs every time you applied a different colour and he'd keep on looking at the expiry date, wishing time would stop.
you did manage to find a dupe, however. and the moment jay saw it, he was over the moon. like thank god and the stars in heaven.
immediately he'd ask you to put it on. and who are you to deny your boyfriend's sweet request? so you opened it and applied the colour, conscious of jay's trailing eyes. the moment the wand went back into the tube, jay grabbed your face, examining your lips with the distance of a hairbreadth.
you felt warm in his grasp, feeling his thumb hover over your lips as if he were tracing them. a satisfied smile washed onto his face, the scrunch of his furrowed brows disappearing. he nodded. "beautiful."
your cheeks tinged with a heated flush. you couldn't help but just give him a long kiss on his lips, parting to find your colour imprinted on him. you grinned, imitating his own tone. "beautiful."
jay rolled his eyes, hand travelling to encircle your waist. your mouth dried at the sudden proximity and the intensity swirling in his brown eyes. "let me show you just how beautiful you are."
STAWPPP 😳🤭
jaeyun
babe. listen. jake will stop everything he's doing if it means getting to watch you put some lipgloss on. sure, there's lip balm. but lip balm is not as pretty as lipgloss is on you.
pretty sure he has a spidey sense for it as well. like at any given time, if he thinks you're about to put on some lipgloss, he'll run right towards you.
you'll be in your room and you got a package the other day. it was some new lipglosses that you wanted to try. jake is in the living room, headphones on full blast, but yet somehow he can hear you open the package he brought from your mailbox.
you've just picked a lipgloss to try on and jake is already dragging the ottoman in the corner of your room to your mirror. "jake? i– where did you come from?"
"i heard you open your package, so," jake shrugged.
you blinked blankly. your hand stretched out to lift the headphones hung around his neck with a finger. "you heard me? with these on? jake, they're noise cancelling."
"i should sue for false advertisement," jake nodded to himself before redirecting his attention to you. his wide eyes flickering back and forth between you and the lip gloss in your hands.
you sighed, shaking your head. you knew exactly what he wanted. he wasn't slick with it. you had caught him several times, purposely placing your lip glosses randomly everywhere. on your bed, on the kitchen counter, next to your phone, next to the sink... the list was endless.
jake intently watched you open the lipgloss, head leaning in naturally. the push of your hand towards him surprised him but he realised quickly that you were fulfilling the question lingering inside his head: the smell of the lipgloss. taking a quick whiff, he noted the feigned berry scent, reminiscent of the warm plum colour it had.
you pushed down your smile at the cute little nod jake did once he was satisfied. taking the wand back, you leaned into your mirror, eyes narrowing and lips pursing.
out of your peripheral, you could see jake do the same, except his teeth were sinking into his bottom lip, far too focused on what you were doing.
his eyes trailed the tip of the applicator. the warm plum colour smeared softly against your pillowy lips, mostly sheer. it had small speckles of glitter from what jake could tell. as you rubbed your lips together, finally bringing in the entire coat, jake could tell he loved this gloss.
it looked amazing on you. or well, you made it look good.
you turned to him, wiggling your eyebrows. "what do you think?" you queried, jutting out your lips for him to see.
jake was at a lost for words. all he could do is grab your face with his hands and place his lips onto yours. your eyes widened at the sudden kiss before closing once you began to melt away at the pure fervour jake had within him. he was consuming you, attempting to get closer to you if he could and seizing any air around you.
you pulled yourself away, taking a big inhale of air. shit...
your eyes fell to the plum colour smudged across jake's lips. you were sure yours looked the same. you could've sworn your heart skipped a beat when a loose grin played on his face. "i love it."
sunghoon
to be honest, sunghoon had never thought about this. like ever. he had never seen it, never mind with someone he really liked, so it didn't really register for him. jake, the most clingy person he knows, talked about it all the time. he was already down bad but whatever this thing was with lipgloss, it had jake go feral. and sunghoon just didn't get it.
like bro, it's just lipgloss? like chill.
sunghoon understood the mundane things. like watching you tuck your hair behind your ears, the way you would chew down on your lip when you were concentrating on something, or the scrunch of your nose when you would squint. he would never admit it to you, or anyone for that matter, but he loved that shit.
this lipgloss thing? eh...
but then he saw it.
sunghoon never really pegged you for a lipgloss person. you were always complaining about your hair getting stuck in your lip balm, which resulted in your tucking your hair behind your ears (a win for him). so he just figured lipgloss wasn't in your kit.
but you two were getting ready for a lunch date and sunghoon saw you whip out the warm pink gloss while he put on his shoes. he forgot all about doing the laces... eyes honing on your lips through the mirror.
now that he had seen it, he couldn't stop looking. he understood it.
it was so intriguing.
the way you had to purse your lips and apply such a pretty colour. the way the light bounced off the shine, glittering occasionally. the care you took... the rubbing of your lips to smear the colour evenly... the little satisfactory nod and smile you sported when you saw yourself fully in the mirror...
fuck, he got it.
after finally finishing his shoes, sunghoon walked up to you, watching you turn around with a wide smile. you wiggled your eyebrows. "how do i look?" you asked, giving a small spin.
sunghoon smiled quietly, mind full of only your lips. he dipped his head down to your cheek, leaving a lingering kiss on the soft surface before pulling back. "pretty."
you smiled at his compliment, your own eyes looking him up and down, hand rubbing his chest gently. you stood on your toes, pressing a quick peck on his cheek as well. "you look pretty too."
your eyes widened at the shiny pink stain on his cheek. "aw shit," you cursed.
sunghoon raised a brow, looking at himself in the mirror. his body paused on the silhouette of your kiss on his skin. he could've sworn his heart was thundering in his chest while a wave of warm washed over him.
you grabbed a fresh wet wipe from your vanity, hand stretching out to wipe off the mark but sunghoon's hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.
sunghoon gave a small smile at the confused expression swirling in your eyes. "leave it."
your eyes go big at his words. "b-b-but it's gonna be on your skin? it's so pink and so... obvious..." you told him, voice slowly turning into a whisper as his smile got bigger.
"it's okay," sunghoon murmured, grabbing this wipe out of your hand and resting it on the vanity before intertwining his fingers with yours. "i like it like that."
soft for this type of sunghoon 🥹🤭
seonwoo
listen, seonwoo is the motherfucker that would apply it for you.
don't get him wrong. he loves watching you put lipgloss on. he admired the way you got so into it, blocking out the rest of the world for a good three minutes to make sure you had applied it well. besides, you looked so pretty.
but one day, you broke out of your trance and caught seonwoo looking invested in it. the surprise he had when you offered him the wand and a lipliner was like no other. you thought he wanted to put it on which was fine with you. especially considering you were secretly the one who loved seonwoo's lips the most. so soft... so pillowy and plump, perfect for any lip product.
but much to your surprise, seonwoo shook his head no and asked is he could put it on you. the offer was so sweet, you immediately wiped off any product on your lip, not caring that it was technically a waste, and sat ready for him to apply it.
and now... it was like a daily ritual.
every morning, as the both of you got ready, you would both decide on a combo you would wear for the day. and you would sit in front of the window, on the floor, sun beaming down on you.
it normally took three minutes at most to line your lips and then fill it with lipgloss. but with seonwoo, it took a lot longer. the both of you got distracted to easily.
he'd be lining your lips, unaware of all the sweet whispers falling from his mouth. "you're so pretty, baby," "i didn't know it was possible for lips to be this cute." and adding the final touches of your gloss, he'd say, "i just want to kiss you so bad... every day."
and this was your breaking point.
screw the lipgloss.
you would always end the entire moment by grabbing his face to kiss him. you could feel the sticky gloss move onto him, his soft pillowy lips absorbing all the colour and sparkles.
seonwoo would also get into it, pushing himself closer into your touch, making the kiss deeper as his craving for you expanded. his hands, free of the liner and gloss, would crawl up your neck, getting tangled in your hair. his eye would be completely shut, letting himself melt into you entirely.
the whole gloss thing always left seonwoo on fire. like he just couldn't wait to kiss you again and again.
you would leave the kiss by placing kisses across his jaw and kisses. practically adorning his skin in your marks while your hands fisted the end of his shirt.
you'd both spent the next ten minutes trying to wipe off the marks with wet wipes, talking and laughing about how maybe the lipgloss should be left to you, only for seonwoo to get sulky about it, refusing the proposition entirely. he was going to put your lipgloss on. even if it only resulted in it coming off.
you didn't mind though. seonwoo knew that deep down you'd wake up the next day and do it all over again just to kiss him again. because that's exactly what he wants.
jungwon
jungwon is another one who doesn't really get it. he's just so caring and romantic that he revels in the simplicity of romance.
he likes that you're the first text he sees everyday, even when you're right next to him. or when you walk around in his clothes... hoodies, matching bracelets, and keychains. when he checked on you to make sure you had eaten and to see how you're day had been going. his favourite, however, was your random urge to poke his dimples. it always made him break out into a shy smile which you teased him for.
these simple things... they kept him going.
but then came the lipgloss his sister had gifted you for your birthday. you were a big fan of tinted lip balms, he knew that. he always pretended to gape at your drawer full of them because he knew you'd end up hitting him in the arm, annoyed by his teasing.
this lipgloss, however, was truly one of a kind. it was packed with some of the prettiest glitter jungwon had ever seen. to be honest, jungwon should've thanked his sister when he saw you first apply it the next day.
you were out having a picnic. everything was just right. the sun, the comforting breeze, and the warmth of your head resting on jungwon's lap, while music softly played from your phone.
as you were resting on jungwon's lap, eyes closed and absorbing the peaceful atmosphere, you suddenly remembered you had brought along his sister's present. jungwon, who was spending most of this tranquility staring at you and combing his hand through your hair, had a mini heart attack when you suddenly opened your eyes and were lunging towards your bag.
his sharps brows furrowed at your rummaging. "what are you looking for, baby?"
your tongue hung out of the corner of your mouth. "uh," you failed to respond, trying to find the tube that you apparently had misplaced so easily in your bag. "ah! got it!" you cheered, feeling the smooth tube enter your hand.
jungwon watched as you grabbed your phone as well and went back to laying on his lap. you slid your phone to the camera, turning it so it faced you. placing the butt of the lipgloss tube in your mouth, you expertly twisted out the applicator and moved the tube between your fingers to apply the product.
the whole scene was some sort of alluring contraption to jungwon. the dexterity of your fingers surprised him but nothing surprised him more than his sudden fixation on your lips. the way you applied the warmish red in thin sheer coats across your soft lips, letting the sun capture every single speckle of glitter in it.
you were radiating.
you checked yourself in your phone before putting it down. you looked up at jungwon's staring eyes and pursed your lips. "thoughts?"
jungwon remained silent for a second, internally contemplating. but, nevertheless, a sigh slipped out of his mouth before he pressed his lips to yours. the peck was momentary before he pulled back. "i think it's pretty."
a flush of heat travelled down your cheeks. "jungwon," you whined, jutting out your lip, only increasing his urge to kiss you again. "you took like half of it off."
jungwon grinned, dimples popping out, making you instinctively poke them with your finger. his lipgloss coated lips pressed a brief kiss on the side of your finger. "i also think i'm going to have to buy you some more lipglosses."
riki
an interesting sort of impatience.
from the moment you started wearing lipglosses or he watched you put on your lip balm, riki was fixated on the act. he always pretended like he didn't care because for him it was slightly embarrassing. to be affected by something so simple, that is.
he never tries to enforce you like some people might by putting lipglosses everywhere or buying you them specifically. riki liked when it happened naturally and every so often.
on the occasion, maybe you were getting ready or you were testing out a new colour, he'd watch you out of the corner of his eye. patiently waiting for you to apply. why? it was simple because he wanted to come off.
he couldn't really grasp it. there was just this sort of annoyance that you had when riki smudged the gloss so it escaped the confines of your lips... and riki adored your reaction to it.
you'd always get slightly heated. whining and purposely trying to move away from him so you could apply it in peace. only for him to follow you out, resulting in you being chased around the house.
that was what he was impatient for. that very specific intimacy between you two. as mentioned, he enjoyed the natural occurrence of it. he could never make it happen. it just happened. and when it did, it would set the mood for the rest of the day.
like today.
you were already cautious the moment you saw riki walk into the bathroom in your peripheral. riki would raise his arms in defence. "i'm just looking for my cologne," he'd say, "i put it somewhere here because jake was hounding me for some.
you narrowed your eyes, silently turning back to the mirror and returning to your application. riki was next to you, pretending to rummage through the bathroom drawers. you can't miss the way he slowly rises up from drawers, his eyes fixated on your lips through the mirror.
by the last swipe of your lipgloss, you can already feel and see riki leaning in to mess it up. "nope!" you said, immediately retracting yourself from the bathroom counter, rushing to walk out of the room.
riki was hot on your tail. "oh come on... i'm not doing anything. i just want to spend time with you. is that so bad?" he asked, amusement underlying his voice.
you turned to him, now walking backwards out into the living room. "yes. it is bad when you have that look in your eyes."
riki stepped towards you, eyebrows pulled together in a feigned confusion. "what look?"
"that one. like you're going to eat me or something," you pointed accusingly.
riki rested his hands on his hips, standing in front of you with a slight tilt to his head. he clicked his tongue. he spoke with a nonchalant tone. "because i am."
the moment you see him take a step forward, you're off. you fell into a maze, running around your furniture which riki just inches behind you. you made it to your bedroom, in fits of laughter by this point and about to shut the door on his face.
but you're just a bit too slow.
riki's hand stretched out, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you back into him. you squirmed in his grip while he shifted the both of you to the bed with a soft thud.
"riki," you complained despite the wide smile etching on your face. your head fell to his chest, hair falling around your ears to cover your flushed skin.
a hum fell from his lips as riki's eyes flickered over your face, hand reaching out to push your hair behind your ears after he tilted your face back up. the action seized all the air around you. at least that's what you thought by the feel of your mouth drying.
"i got you," riki quietly teased, grinning at you.
you snapped out of your trance and rolled your eyes. you hit his chest playfully, a soft laugh following after. "let me go."
riki blinked at you, head leaning in towards you. you could feel his hot breath glide past your face. one would think your heart is in your ears by the sound of how loud it is. lips a mere millimetre away from yours, he whispered, "never."
© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!
#maeumi-jng#maeumi jng’s library — enhypen bookshelf ♡︎#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung x reader#jay x reader#heeseung x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunoo x reader#jungwon x reader#riki nishimura x reader#niki x reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen headcannons
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Only 23 notes?! Unacceptable. Eepy Luci should always be appreciated with the utmost enthusiasm!
speepy
#what a cutie!#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#tumblr sexyman#apple daddy#duck lord#i love luci#look at himmm!#grrrr!#just wanna squish his little cheeks#so squishy#he deserves all the eepies!#you guys I can’t#I’m literally so obsessed w/ him#how has it been 3 months and yet I’m still like#on my knees#inside the floor#that’s how down bad I am
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Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖
You are in love 1 || B.B
Part 2 of " you are in love"
Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin
Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut
Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.
" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.
Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.
" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."
You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.
" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.
" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.
" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.
" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.
" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.
Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.
" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.
" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.
" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.
" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.
" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.
"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.
" I called you cute too." He squabbled.
" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.
" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.
" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.
" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.
" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."
" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.
You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.
" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.
" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.
" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.
" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.
" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.
" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.
" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.
" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.
" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.
" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.
" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.
" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.
" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.
" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.
" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.
" Well, someone's gotta teach you."
" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.
" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.
" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.
" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.
" He kissed her already ? "
" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.
" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.
" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.
Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.
" —then you can tell me about love."
Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.
" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.
" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.
You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.
" Love," he began," is like music."
" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.
Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.
" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.
" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.
" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.
" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.
" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.
" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."
" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.
" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.
" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.
Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.
" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.
You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.
" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.
" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.
" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.
" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."
You can hear it in the silence.
It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.
If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.
Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.
" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.
" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.
you can feel it with the light's out.
He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.
He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.
The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.
And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.
And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.
You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.
He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?
More than anything.
His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.
You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.
Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.
Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?
You are my best friend.
Part 2
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#Benedict bridgerton x reader#Benedict bridgerton x you#Benedict bridgerton x y/n#Benedict bridgerton x female reader#Benedict bridgerton x fem!reader#Benedict bridgerton imagine#Benedict bridgerton fluff#Benedict bridgerton angst#Polin#Colin x Penelope#bridgerton s3#x reader#Benedict bridgerton fics#Benedict bridgerton smut#x reader fluff#x reader angst#bridgerton s2#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader#taylor swift#1989#you are in love#folkloregurl fics🪩
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✰ chris loves to suck on your tits. especially when they’re sensitive
warnings : tit sucking. slight mention of menstrual cycle. sub!chris. praising. slight mommy!kink. i think that’s it?
chris was lying beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, but you could feel the way his gaze kept darting down to your chest. he was trying to be patient—he really was—but the way you shifted slightly, your oversized shirt sliding just enough to tease him, was driving him insane.
“baby…” he whispered, his voice soft and pleading. his hand hesitantly drifted to your waist, thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. “can i… please?”
you turned your head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “please, what?”
chris swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed a deep pink. he looked embarrassed to even say it, his lips parting and closing as he tried to find the right words.
finally, he ducked his head, his voice a little whiny as he spoke. “i just want them in my mouth so bad. Please let me… you know i love how sensitive they are when you’re—”
“chris,” you interrupted, fighting back a smirk at how desperate he sounded. “you’re such a baby.”
his head snapped up, and his wide, pleading eyes locked onto yours. “i am, but I’m your baby. please, just—let me make you feel good. i’ll be so gentle, i promise. please?”
your resolve cracked at the way his voice shook with need, and you sighed, tugging your shirt up to reveal your chest. “fine, but you better be careful. they’re really sore right now.”
chris’ face lit up like he’d been handed the world, and he wasted no time, sitting up slightly so he could lean down and press soft, reverent kisses over your breasts. “thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbled between kisses, his hands carefully bracketing your ribs.
he glanced up at you one last time, seeking permission, and when you nodded, he let out a shaky breath before taking your nipple into his mouth. the first flick of his tongue against the sensitive bud made you gasp, and chris moaned at the sound, his hips pressing subtly into the mattress.
“you’re so perfect,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled but clear. “… i love this. i love you.”
you tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly, and he whimpered, the sound vibrating against your chest. he sucked gently, his tongue swirling in slow, teasing motions that made you squirm beneath him.
“chris,” you whispered, your voice breathy. “you’re being so good. such a good boy.”
the praise seemed to light him up, his moans growing louder as he nuzzled closer, switching to your other breast with a soft, desperate plea. “i wanna stay here forever. please, let me keep going. let me make you feel better.”
you couldn’t help but smile at his neediness, running your fingers through his hair as his tongue continued to swirl over your sensitive bud.
your fingers gripped the strands tighter, holding him closer against your skin as his mouth continued to suck your sensitive bud, a high pitched moan slipped past your lips, back arching toward him.
“stay as long—ngh—as you’d like baby. making mommy feel so good.”
a/n : oh i love sub chris and sub matt. gonna start writing more things for them both.
#ᯓ★ strnilolover#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo blurb#christopher sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo#christopher sturniolo smut#sub christopher sturniolo#sub chris sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#christopher owen sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic#gabs chris!blurbs#smut
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As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD
It's the first time I've seen/heard it.
Could you share another one you like using?
Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!
Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')
Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')
Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')
Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)
I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)
Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)
Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)
I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)
Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)
Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)
Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)
Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)
Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)
Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)
Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)
Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)
The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)
Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)
What on God's green earth (What the fuck)
I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)
He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)
Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)
You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)
Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)
Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)
Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)
Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)
Gone belly-up. (Has died.)
We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)
Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)
I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)
Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)
Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)
Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)
He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)
They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)
He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)
Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)
I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)
Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)
I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)
He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)
He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)
Plant your ass. (Sit.)
Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)
He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)
He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)
One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)
I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)
I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)
Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)
Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now
EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite
52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)
Plus some more I forgot:
53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)
54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)
55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)
56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)
57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)
58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)
59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)
60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)
61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)
62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)
63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)
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Such A Mystery - Part 7
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.
Warnings:
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.
Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army.
Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.
“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.
Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.
"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.
“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.
Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.
"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."
"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.
"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.
"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"
"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."
Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.
"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."
"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.
Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."
"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."
Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.
Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.
"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!
Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.
"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"
"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."
Things. George Russell had said some things.
Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"
Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.
"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.
"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.
No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.
Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.
"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.
"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.
"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."
Colette huffed but she was still seething.
Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"
"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"
Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.
Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.
"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.
Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:
"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."
For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.
"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.
"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."
"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."
Colette just huffed.
"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.
"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.
Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.
"No," Jos answered flatly.
Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"
"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.
"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."
The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.
Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.
"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."
Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.
"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.
“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.
On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."
"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.
"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."
Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture.
"Fuck," Victoria cursed.
“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”
All three of them just gaped at the TV.
Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.
"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."
He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.
Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.
All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.
And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.
"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.
"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.
Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.
It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.
It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.
They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.
Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.
How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?
It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.
It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.
And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.
Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.
Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.
"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.
"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."
She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.
"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."
Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.
"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.
There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.
"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.
The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.
The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.
It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.
But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.
"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."
“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”
She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.
"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."
"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.
Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.
“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“
“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"
But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes, you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."
The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.
Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.
Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."
It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.
She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.
Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!
But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.
She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.
"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.
"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.
"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"
Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.
The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.
"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"
Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.
She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.
“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.
“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.
Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.
“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.
A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.
"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."
The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”
"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."
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Ghost Driver 4
masterpost
Danny was starting to suspect he had kidnapped a child. He rapped his fingers against the steering wheel nervously. Jeeze. That was bad. Was Danny the stranger danger? He hit the brakes hard and turned the wheel hard to pull off a parking trick. He didn’t intend to be the stranger danger!
‘I think that is a human child. Wow, I hate myself.’ Danny turned off the car and resisted the urge to beat himself into unconsciousness against the steering wheel. ‘But he’s been helpful. Maybe it’s fine?’
He put that anxiety away to deal with later.
“Here we are.” Robin unbuckled gingerly, another nail in the coffin he definitely didn’t have. What kind of ghost would use a seatbelt? Danny wanted to slap himself in the face. Maybe Robin didn’t know what Danny had thought. He hadn’t called him a ghost, right? Not directly. Maybe there was a way out of this social situation that wouldn’t be really awkward.
‘He appeared out of like, nowhere,’ Danny defended himself miserably. ‘In a graveyard! He moves weird- he’s just a spooky little guy.’
It was probably the kind of mistake that anyone could make.
Whatever.
He let Robin take the lead, mind and stomach churning. This had been such a weird day. First off, Victor had turned out to be not Victor, and also to be a total knockout babe. Then, Jay did like, a big hero thing promising to keep Danny safe and kissed his hand and—
His face burnt at the memory. Anyway, of course he was trying to find the guy. Anyone would want to secure a date.
‘I am starting to wonder if he’s dead, though, and I just didn’t notice. The news articles about his death and also the headstone are pretty compelling evidence. Did I fail to notice he was dead?’
In past he would have said “fat fucking chance, I am an expert.” But, uh.
‘It’s not like I’ve never been fooled before. I thought Spectra was alive at first. And...’
He cut a look at Robin. Christ, his chest was expanding. Yeah, he was breathing. Danny wound fingers through his hair and pulled. Real. Human. Child. He grimaced.
He was going to jail for like, ever.
“I’m a disgrace to ectology and the afterlife,” he said mournfully.
Robin cut him a surprised look, movement sharp and aptly birdlike. “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” Danny dismissed. “Get the door open, it’s fine.”
“Like it’s that easy,” Robin muttered, but he went back to whatever arcane stuff he was doing. Because he was not a ghost, and couldn’t just phase through. Danny stuck his hands in his pockets, resigned to seeing how this played out.
It took Robin nearly ten minutes to disarm the security system, but he opened the door to the safe house gingerly. Nothing shot them.
“Lemme go first,” Danny said, because he sort of still hoped that Batman wouldn’t break his fingers with a novelty bat-shaped hammer for this offense. He edged past Robin and into the apartment. He flicked on a light. “Oh, there he is,” Danny said, relieved.
Robin ducked in under his shoulder shockingly fast. “Jason?” He pulled up short.
“Yeah, he’s out of it,” Danny agreed. Jason was slouched on the sofa, hand hanging over the side. He had some kind of road rash up the side of his face, scabbing up to his left ear. He had bandages around a hand and his neck. He had stripped down to the sleeveless undershirt and sports leggings. Unf.
“Nice,” Danny said appreciatively.
“Is he dead?” Robin asked, sotto voice.
Danny shrugged. “Not more dead than he was before?” He hedged.
“….Are there quantifiable variations of being dead?” Robin asked.
Shit. Danny went stiff. “No, finish your milk,” he snapped.
“I’m… not drinking any milk.”
Danny frowned, thrown off his groove.
Right. This wasn’t the neighbor’s kid he occasionally babysat. That tactic wouldn’t work to shut down unwanted questions. Or would it?
“Go get some, the kitchen is over there.”
Robin stood still and looked very offended. That was good enough. Danny pushed past him to check Jason over a little more closely. He noticed a cheap flip phone on the floor near where his hand was dangling. He picked it up to see a message on the screen that said “serry I canf come but I call latert”. It was unsent. He checked. It was almost directed to his phone: Jason had gotten the last digit wrong.
“Aww,” Danny said, charmed. “He tried.” He snapped the phone shut and made sure the guy was breathing and not bleeding through his bandages or anything. Danny checked the color of his fingernails for oxygen discoloration, his heart rate, his pallor. He finished and stood back with his hands on his hips.
“Well?” Robin snapped.
Danny shrugged. “His blood is inside? I’m not a doctor yet and it’s not like there’s any equipment here. His pulse is fine, color looks good…” He scratched the back of his head. “I think he’s just sleeping off a concussion.”
“A concussion?” Robin’s voice went high.
Jason groaned, head lolling.
“He’s up!” Danny hovered off the ground. “Hey, you undead?” He poked at Jay’s chest gently.
Jay batted at his hand, poorly. It didn’t connect. “Mm not dead anymore,” he complained, face scrunched up. “Joker’s not dead either. Leave me to suffer.”
“…Do you want Joker dead?” Danny asked. He cocked his head to the side. “I think we can hide that.” There was nothing saying that a prisoner transferred to the Infinite Realms had to be kept there alive. In fact, it might be more convenient for Walker if the guy fit his usual prisoners’ general description.
“We can not hide that,” Robin interrupted. Party pooper.
He cut a sideways glance at the child. Hmm. “Isn’t it your bedtime?” Danny asked casually. They needed to ditch him to get anything done.
“It’s time for breakfast,” Robin snarked. “Look outside.”
“…Do I have to feed you?” Danny asked, alarmed by the expanding nature of responsibility. He didn’t wait for a response, because it was obvious. When you cart around a child, you have to feed them at mealtimes. What did Jay even have in this kitchen? Danny wasn’t a particularly accomplished cook. He crossed the apartment in a panic to peer around the fridge.
12 eggs, still within date. Uh… there was some butter in the fridge as well, and milk with two days left. He shook the carton. Basically full. Um…. He opened cupboards in search of carbs. Nothing.
“Freezer,” Robin suggested.
Danny checked. “I didn’t know you could freeze bread.” He turned it over in his hands dubiously. “Okay… toast and eggs.”
Thank god he didn’t have any classes today. He was going to crash so hard once he’d finished everything important.
Jason didn’t react to anything they had said or done. Danny stuck his head out of the kitchenette to squint at him. The guy was still immobile on the sofa.
“Maybe breakfast is what he needs,” Danny decided, dubious. But that was a real thing! People need food to recover. Calories might help him.
Robin perched on the counter and watched Danny with a weird intensity. “I’m just melting butter in a warm pan,” Danny told him. Maybe the kid didn’t know how to cook. “Wanna help? Put the bread in the toaster.”
Robin didn’t move. “You’d better do it.”
…weird.
Danny took out two slices of frozen bread and stuck them in the toaster. “It’s easy, bro,” he said, nonplussed. “Insert, and pull this lever down.” He demonstrated. “Check the time— I’ve got it for two minutes, it probably won’t be enough but we can check on it.”
He turned back to the fry pan. The butter was bubbling now. He cracked two eggs in. It sizzled pleasantly.
The sound helped him think things through. How was he going to do this? Skulker might fight to keep his new guest. And Walker- Danny grimaced. Walker had never really forgiven him for that prison break thing.
‘I might need to lean on someone else’s authority,’ Danny mused. ‘Walker respects other cops. So I should, like, get that police guy to come and ask for the paperwork directly.’
It felt like no time at all until he scraped an egg off onto a piece of toast and handed it to Robin. He put the other on a plate and made one more toast and egg for Jay.
Robin followed him to the living room, toast in hand.
“Go on, eat up.” Danny shoved his own toast into his mouth in one ghastly crunch. His cheeks stuck out as he began chewing on it. Then he plopped down on the floor next to Jay and started prodding his face again. “Hey. Hey.” Poke. “Breakfast.”
Jay groaned. He unsuccessfully tried several times to bat Danny’s hand away, but eventually gave up and clutched the open-faced sandwich.
“Gucky,” Danny said, observing the very odd way Jason was gripping the egg directly. Yolk leaked out under his middle finger. But he ate it, though, so it was fine.
He turned on Robin when he remembered he was there. “Can you get home by yourself?” He asked.
Robin looked at him with his creepy white eyes. “…No.” His wrist was flashing red. Was that like, a bird message system? Was it some kind of alarm going off because he had gone out of the acceptable Robin roaming range? Robin was pretending not to notice it.
Danny groaned and let his head rest against Jason’s leg. “Fine,” he complained. “Uh. I’ll take you home, then go move the Joker, get paperwork from Walker, and come back to give it to- what’s up?” He looked up through his bangs. Jason had grabbed onto his hair.
“Joker?” He peeled an eye open. “No…”
“You heard the man,” chirped Robin. “He doesn’t want you to interfere with the course of justice.”
Jason, Danny discovered, still had the egg yolk in his hand. He discovered this because Jason flung it dead center on Robin’s face.
“Ha,” Danny said. The child was a downer, what could he say? “I think he wants me to interfere with the course of justice,” he parroted snootily. Even though that wasn’t at all what was going on.
“Dangerous,” Jason said. He peeled one bloodshot eye open. He looked terrible.
“You look awful,” said Danny. “Lie down- no, don’t get up, what are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you,” Jason grunted. He waved a hand at Robin. “And this hallucination of my childhood innocence.”
“Actually-“
“Sh.” Robin rushed to get the door open. “Support his arm, will you?”
“You still have an egg face,” Danny told him sulkily. He picked Jason up effortlessly. He ignored the muttered:
“I can fly?”
from his passenger. “Come in, bird, we gotta get you home before someone murders me.” Danny jangled the keys and sunk down through the floor to make a point. Robin’s shouted “hey!” was muffled through the floor. Danny snickered and settled Jason in the passenger seat.
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hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad
ty lovely 💌 fem
“Oh,” you say, “of course.”
You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent.
How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.
“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?”
You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?”
“I heard the engine turn over.”
“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it.
“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”
James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.
“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.”
“You don’t have to go?”
“What?”
“You have rugby today.”
“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.”
James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out.
“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.
James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.”
He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.”
“So it’s definitely the battery?”
“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen.
Your breath gets caught.
“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned.
“I… maybe I did. I think so.”
“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?”
“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.
James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.”
“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.
“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face.
His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car.
James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends.
He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert.
“What are your plans tonight?”
Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.”
“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”
“What do you do with all your time?”
“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.”
You startle. “You and Sirius live together?”
James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?”
“You come in different cars.”
“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.”
James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome.
That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much.
To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…
Well, he couldn’t have. Right?
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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Your Declan fic was SO good. That’s how u discovered your account and I can’t wait for the other Rivals fics you have coming up!!!
If you are still taking requests, I would die for protective Declan O’Hara in any situation. Love your stuff!!
man of the hour.
the sexiest thing about a man is his moustache morals.
declan o’hara x female reader
warnings - cursing. a little violence and a quick injury description.
word count - 2k
authors note - I truly believe that one of the sexiest things about declan is the fact that he stands up for what he believes in… don’t underestimate the aphrodisiac powers of strong morals, ladies and gents. need him to stand up for me sometime🧎♀️➡️. anyway this ended up much softer than I meant it to be (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing) <3
masterlist. inbox.
“Can I get you another drink?”
You laugh as the man swings an arm around your shoulders, the heavy weight of it almost taking you down.
“You’ve asked me that four times in the last five minutes, Bas. Thank you, though.”
“Just want to make sure you’re having a good time.”
He’s yelling into your ear, both of you fighting to raise your voices above the noise of Bar Sinister.
“I’m always having a good time with you,” you tease, leaning into his side. “I’m alright, Bas. Promise.”
“You need to let loose for once in your life.”
“I’ll let loose on a day I’m not working.”
“You’re always working.”
“What can I say? He’s hard fucking work.”
You both look over to your boss, who’s currently animatedly telling Declan a story. Rupert’s gesturing so exaggeratedly that people are ducking out of the way, both men laughing and completely oblivious as beer and whiskey splash all over the floor.
Bas presses a kiss into your hair, squeezing you tightly.
“I don’t know what he’d do without you.”
“Well, he never has to find out. We’re stuck with each other,” you chuckle. “Best job I’ve ever had, surprisingly.”
“I won’t tell him you said that,” Bas winks, laughing.
The sound of multiple glasses smashing has the both of you whipping your heads around, trying to find the source of the commotion.
“Shit. I’ll see you later, darling. Come and find me if you need anything, yeah?”
“Course.”
Bas disappears into the bustling crowd, leaving you standing at the bar. It’s absolutely manic, people packed in to the rafters and bumping into each other left, right and centre.
You’re about to make your way over to Rupert when a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you backwards so hard that you stumble over your own feet. You tug your arm away, finally getting a good look at the person who’s responsible.
“Spencer?”
“Oh, so you do remember me then?”
“… What? We were together for six months, and I don’t have short term memory loss, so… yes.”
“I just meant because you’re hanging around with the elite now. The rumour is that you’re working for Rupert Campbell Black.”
“I am working for Rupert Campbell Black. It’s not a secret, Spencer. I’m his aide and assistant. I’m working for Venturer, too, helping with their public relations. And you are… what? Still pretending to work for your father when you really just spend your days drinking and betting?”
“I do work for my father.”
“Of course you do.”
He steps forward, getting into your personal space.
“What are you doing in here, Spencer? You don’t even live in Rutshire.”
“Thought I’d pop in, see if you were here. Wanted to see if there was any truth to the rumours.”
“Well, you’ve put the rumours to bed now, haven’t you?”
“Not the only thing that’s been put to bed,” he murmurs, just low enough so you only catch half of it.
“Pardon me?”
Your entire body is taut with tension, nerves alert and heart racing. You can only imagine how uncomfortable you must look, praying that someone notices sooner rather than later.
“Which one are you sleeping with, then?”
“Spencer-”
“No, come on. You finished things with me, so there must be another man. Who is it?”
“I’m finished things with you - eight months ago, mind you - because you’re an immature prick who’s so pretentious it makes you deeply unlikeable. There was no other man, I’d just rather be single than be with you.”
His chest puffs out as he starts to go red with rage, anger bubbling up in his veins. You know that you’re not completely unsafe here in this room full of people, but that doesn’t calm your anxiety in the slightest.
“Which one is it, hmm?” his voice is raising, getting louder with every passing minute. “Which one looks like your type?”
He points at Seb first, quirking an eyebrow.
“Him?”
When you don’t respond, he moves on to pointing at Patrick.
“Him?”
You shake your head almost imperceptibly, wishing that the ground would swallow you up.
“Oh my god… it’s him, isn’t it?”
His eyes have landed on Rupert, who’s still stood across the room. Your boss is looking at you, now, quickly assessing the situation you’re in.
“You’re fucking Rupert Campbell Black?!”
The entire crowd of people goes silent as he practically screams it, everyone’s heads turning to look at you.
“She’s… what?” Rupert, Declan and Bas all ask at the exact same time, hilariously in sync.
“Fucked your way up to the top, did you? Classy as always.”
Spencer goes to continue his sentence, but hits the floor suddenly with a heavy thud. You look up to see Declan shaking off his hand, chest heaving with adrenaline. Your ex boyfriend has a busted lip, blood dripping down his chin and onto his awfully unflattering shirt.
“It’s called hard work, you arrogant little prick. Not that you’d know.”
Declan’s Irish accent sounds stronger than usual, coloured with fury and aggression. Bas has dragged Spencer to his feet, both him and Rupert holding him upright.
“If I ever catch you anywhere near here again, I’ll do more than just split your fucking lip. You understand?”
Spencer nods, clearly still dizzy from the impact of the punch. He’s dragged outside before anyone can say anything else, the crowd returning back to their drinks as if nothing ever happened.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
Declan links his fingers with yours before you can register what’s happening, pulling you through the bar and out of the back door. You take a seat on the brick wall, legs dangling over the edge as you kick your feet.
“You okay?” he asks as he sits down next to you, just close enough that you can feel his body heat.
“I’m fine.”
“Sure?”
“I’m sure.”
You don’t really know how to feel, confused by the whole ordeal.
“He seems like a nice boy.”
You laugh suddenly at the bad joke, shaking your head as Declan laughs with you. It’s not a sound you hear from him all that often.
“Sorry you had to punch him.”
“I didn’t have to. Kinda wanted to, though.”
“Me too.”
He bumps his shoulder into yours, looking at you carefully.
“I didn’t just hit him for a laugh, you know. I was worried he was going to hurt ya.”
“I was too,” you whisper, vulnerability bleeding into your tone.
“I’d never of let that happen. I promise, sweetheart.”
His hand finds yours again, fingers gently sliding in between yours. He rests your intertwined hands on his thigh, thumb rubbing patterns on your skin.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
You sit in silence for a long moment, enjoying the way the warmth of his palm seeps slowly into yours.
“I didn’t think anyone had even noticed Spencer was there.”
“I saw as soon as he walked in, because I knew I didn’t recognise him. I tried to give you some space, thought maybe you were friends or something. Didn’t want to intervene and embarrass ya.”
“Ex boyfriend, if you haven’t already guessed. We were only together about six months all in all, about eight months ago. Don’t know what I was thinking, really. He’s fucking awful.”
“You can say that again,” he chuckles, hand squeezing yours. “Not sure what you ever saw in him.”
“Neither am I, anymore. I don’t know, maybe I just liked having someone really like me, as sad as that sounds. Dating is fun and exciting and… well, it’s supposed to be. God knows it isn’t, for me.”
Declan slides his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side to keep the evening chill at bay. You can hear the ruckus from inside, everyone in the bar carrying on as usual.
“I think you just keep choosing the wrong men, darlin’. Don’t swear off dating just because of a few bad apples.”
“I mean, I haven’t dated anyone since Spencer, and that finished eight months ago. I’d rather stay single than date any more of these posh boys who’ve never worked a day in their lives.”
He laughs, and the vibrations of it rumble through the both of you, settling into your bones. All you can think about is how warm he is and how good he smells and how if you leaned in an inch to your left, you could kiss him right on the cheek.
“What if it’s me?” you can’t help but ask quietly. “What if I’m the reason I can’t find someone?”
“What?”
“I mean, I work for Rupert - which I love - but my job is my life now. He’s a handful as it is, and now with all the Venturer stuff… all I do is work. And I know I’m not pretty like Taggie or powerful and bossy like Cameron but-”
“You’re beautiful.”
Declan stops you in your tracks, his interruption derailing your train of thought completely.
“I- what?”
“Sweetheart, the only reason I noticed that prat Spencer earlier was because I was already looking at you.”
“You were?”
“I always am.”
“… Why?”
“I don’t know, exactly. It’s like this… gravitational pull. You light up a room.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” you chuckle nervously.
“I wish it was.”
You don’t know what to say, so you lean further into his side, resting your head on his broad shoulder and breathing him in.
“I would have said something sooner,” he murmurs, “but Rupert would fucking kill me.”
“He’s not my keeper, Declan.”
“No, but he’s your boss. And for all intents and purposes, your big brother.”
He rests his head atop of yours, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“How’s your hand?”
“Perfectly fine,” he laughs, squeezing your thigh. “I’ll make a full recovery.”
“Thank God for that.”
Declan turns his body so he can look at you properly, big hands coming up to cradle your face. Neither of you say anything, waiting with tense anticipation for the other person to move first.
You surprise yourself by leaning in and planting a kiss on his lips, chaste and testing the waters. You begin to overthink everything the minute you pull back, worried that you’ve misread his kindness. As if he can read your mind, he tangles a hand into your hair and tugs you back into him, kissing you with a passion you’ve never experienced before.
His tongue slips into your mouth cheekily as you let him take the lead, happy to surrender the control to him. You’ve dreamt about this, late nights in bed spent wondering if the real thing would live up to your imagination. It definitely does.
Eventually, you both pull away, panting and flushed. You can no longer feel the chill in the air, the warmth of Declan keeping the cold at bay.
“Don’t tell Rupert,” he whispers, dirty smirk written across his face.
You can’t help but laugh, giddy off of the weight of the moment. Before tonight, you’d begun to accept that you might have been slightly delusional when it came to Declan - reading into his fingers brushing yours when you handed him something, him winking at you across the room, his palm pressing into your back as he walked past. Now you know - it wasn’t delusion. They were signals.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Secret’s safe with me.”
He pecks your lips again quickly before standing up, outstretching his hands for you to grab so he can pull you with him.
“You wanna go back inside?”
“No, think I’m done for the night.”
“Will you let me walk you home?”
You look at him smiling down at you all soft and sweet, and realise instantly that you’re in trouble. This isn’t something either of you are going to be able to just brush past. This’ll be haunting both of your memories every single day until it happens again.
“I’d like that.”
“Come on then, sweetheart. Lead the way.”
Declan links his fingers with yours, happy to let you steer him in the right direction. Neither of you say much. You don’t need to.
The way his palm fits perfectly against yours tells you both everything you need to know.
@lostinthefandoms11 @prettycoolgirl @buzzcutlip
don’t make me give the reblogs are invaluable to your writers speech again… i’ve given it one too many times… but you know the deal… reblog if you enjoyed and I shall write more for you <3
#declan o’hara#declan o’hara fluff#declan o’hara x reader#declan o’hara imagine#declan o’hara smut#declan o’hara x reader smut#declan o’hara x reader fluff#rivals smut#rivals x reader#rivals x reader smut#declan o’hara x you#declan o’hara x female reader#rivals fanfiction#rivals fic#rivals imagine#rivals 2024#aidan turner#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#rupert campbell black imagine
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