#he loves a little drama let’s start a bar fight

[introverted-reads]

love that it’s canon that robin hands over edwin to jack like “babe hold my beer” before starting the bar fight of the century that results in the british magic system being completely reconstructed

[m1guelsgf]

done for the night

axel kovacevic x reader

author's note ⋆｡𖦹 ✮ ‧₊˚✩彡

hiiiii this is my first fic for any CK character so i'm kinda nervous. hope u like it. i started a pt. 2 already bc i just love axel but i also wanna write him in different scenarios as well! will open my requests asap :)

c.w.

s6pt2 spoilers, drinking.

being in barcelona was a dream. you were grateful that you were able to tag along with the miyagi do's. sensei larusso and sensei lawerence always liked you, especially johnny. being miguel's best friend is a privilege you were happy to have. sure, it came with a lot of drama but it also came with a protector, a group of friends, and some karate skills.

plus, being miyagi do's water girl wasn't a bad deal for being flown out to barcelona.

you were enjoying being on the inside of all the events while not needing to fight. the first couple of rounds you seen were intense. being around all these powerful people made you a little nervous but you had hope nothing terrible would happen like the rumble at west valley. these weren't angry teenagers fueled off drama and angst, they're athletes. aspiring professionals.

after miyagi do managed to stay in the game by the skin of their teeth, everyone was getting ready to go out. sam was talking your and devons ear off about spain and all the things her and miguel were going to do in their freetime when there was a knock at the door. you got up from your spot at the vanity and opened it to see miguel.

he was distressed, foot anxiously tapping with a hand through his hair. "is sam in here?"

"yeah, sam." you waved her over to the door. "you good, miggy?" miguel opened his mouth to speak and his eyes immediately welled up with tears. "what's wrong?"

"my mom..." his voice shook as he took sam in his arms for a hug. "something's wrong with the baby, i need to go back home." he spoke, voice muffled by sams hair.

"of course." you nodded. "is there anything we can do?"

he only shook his head and hugged sam harder.

"miguel." johnny said from the end of the hallway and beckoned him.

miguel let sam go and gave you a quick but tight hug before taking off. you and sam share an uneasy look before going back inside the room.

"miguel's going back home? sensei too?" devon asked and the two of you nodded.

"i need a drink." you said, grabbing your purse.

***

at the bar, everyone just seemed to take the gloominess with them. knowing miguel was struggling made it impossible to have fun.

"what are we going to do now that miguel's gone?" devon asked hawk and demitri.

"we could always have y/n take his spot?" hawk said, giving you a look over like he was sizing you up.

you scoffed. "yeah right, i wasn't even good enough to fight for a spot in the sekai tekai. getting my ass kicked on the world stage isn't on my bucket list."

"i'm serious." hawk said. "if they can't get kenny, you're next up. so don't black out this time." hawk pointed at your drink, remembering the time you got blackout drunk and threw up all over the inside of his car at one of moons parties.

"i'd prefer drunk y/n over kenny any day." demitri started. "at least she didn't shit her pants."

"oooookay." you stood up, taking your empty glass with you. "i'm getting another drink." you saw the way they were looking at you. "my last one. i don't think you guys will need me but if you do, i'll be ready. i promise."

you walked over to the bar, where sam and robby were sitting. "hey."

"hey." sam said and robby only nodded.

"what's with him?" you noticed robby's bad mood as soon as you walked up.

"maybe you can help." sam stood up, taking her cup with her. "i'm gonna go sit with the others for a sec, see if miguel still has service."

"okay." you nodded, taking sams spot at the bar. "what's wrong?"

"everything." robby sighed. "i need a drink."

you wanted to tell him not to, that it wouldn't solve anything but you knew that he already knew.

"get one, whatever you want. i got us for the first round." you took some cash from your pocket. "hey, can i get a mai tai and..."

"a rum and coke. double. please." robby asked and the bartender nodded, getting to work on your drinks.

"it's one of those nights, huh?" he only nodded, peering at the other edge of the bar for a moment before scoffing and turning back to you.

"yeah." you looked down to where he had just looked, to see tory and kwon sitting besided each other. kwon had an arm around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear.

"i'm sorry robby. she's gonna come around, i know she is."

"i don't know. she's doing better without me." robby took a sip of his drink and looked down to where tory was sitting. kwon had separated from her but was still close. "and i'm here." he looked at his drink. "thanks by the way."

"it's not good to drink alone. especially when you're down." you nodded, taking a sip of your drink. "also, i missed out on the robby who smoked weed and skated everywhere. i hear he was kinda fun."

"i still skate everywhere." he said with a small laugh. "just not a skate rat anymore."

"yeah, you're the captain now." you gently nudged his shoulder. "i don't know how that feels exactly, the pressure, but i do know that you're gonna make everyone back home proud. especially tory."

"i hope so." he took another drink and eventually, his was gone.

"i know so. she's been watching every one of your fights."

robby cringed a little bit. "knowing i've lost every one of my fights definitely makes me feel lame."

"you're still in it. there's still tomorrow." you took another sip of your drink.

robby nodded. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

you nodded in return, looking over your shoulder to see hawk on his phone, sam and devon talking, and demitri dancing with a girl. when you turned back to where robby was sitting, kwon was in his seat.

"hi."

"hello." you were playing with your straw.

"what are you drinking?"

"a mai tai." your responses were dry but kwon wasn't backing off.

"do you want to dance?" he offered his hands but you shook your head, backing away a little.

"no, thanks."

"what? you're only miyagi do's little girlfriend? not for the rest of us?" kwon leaned in closer. "i can treat you better than keene."

"leave me alone, kwon."

"hey." robby's voice came from behind you.

kwon only scoffed and backed up. "someone's waiting for me anyways." he stood up. "i promise i'll keep her warm tonight, keene." he said before leaving the bar.

"are you okay?"

"i need some air." you stood up and went outside, leaving your friends at the bar. you felt bad for leaving robby alone but you couldn't be there anymore.

you felt the effects of the alcohol as you walked down to the beach. your head was spinning. you stopped and took a seat near the shore, sighing as you looked out to the water.

and then you saw him.

axel kovacevic.

he had been destroying his opponents on the mat. nobody's been able to land a point on him. he was one of the strongest competitors. he was stoic too, especially now as he was practicing his kata about 10 feet away from you. in the moonlight, by the ocean, with the alcohol making your perspective soft, he wasn't robotic. he was focused. until he caught you staring at him.

you made eye contact and immediately looked down at your lap. you waited about 5 seconds to check if he was still looking and he was full on staring. it was awkward. he wasn't looking at you as a threat, but with curiosity.

the two of you observed each other for a silent minute before you decided to say something. "hi." you waved and he didn't say anything in return. "you're axel right?" he nodded. "i'm y/n. i liked the kata you were doing."

"i'm not supposed to speak with opponent." he turned away from you and you stood up.

"i'm not your opponent. i'm not even fighting in the tournament. more like, emergency backup." you smiled, watching the corner of his lips tug upwards.

"why aren't you fighting?" he asked curiously, taking a step closer to you.

"i'm not really a fighter like my friends are." you shrugged. "you're great though."

"i'm alright." he leaned over to pick up his shirt and revealed bruises on his back. the sight made you wince.

"what happened?"

"bo staff competition."

"nobody has been able to land a point on you yet." you looked at him and he had a sort of an embarrassed look. "i know about... your sensei. one of my friends saw. it's not right. you should be out with your team, not practicing alone."

"there's always time for practice. my sensei wants me to be the best. it's because of him i never lose."

"doesn't make it right." you responded. "your entire dojo is pretty great though, i have to admit."

"you're pretty." axel stopped himself. your face was on fire and so was his. "your dojo's pretty good too."

"thanks. do you wanna walk with me? back to the hotel?" you asked, rocking on your heels. axel looked around and nodded and you both took off into the night.

"how long have you been fighting for?" you asked.

"ever since i was a kid. what about you?"

"only a couple years. after one of my friends got really hurt, i decided i had to get serious about learning. he had been teaching me some stuff but when it happened i just had to join a dojo. it was actually... cobra kai."

axel looked at you in disbelief. "you were in cobra kai?"

"yeah. after miguel got hurt, i was really angry and i took it out on everyone."

"miguel..."

"he was the original cobra kai." you remembered when miguel excitedly showed you his first gi. "it's a long story though. those sensei's, silver. they put me and all my friends through hell. so i know what its like to have a sensei do anything to make you the best, even hurt you."

axel couldn't say anything, he could only look at you with wonder. "is that why you don't fight anymore?"

"kind of. i don't know. i'm just not as angry as i used to be. i feel like my anger was the only reason i was ever good and i don't wanna live like that." you shrugged.

"i understand." he nodded. "i love karate but i don't want to be a robot all the time." you shook your head and opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted. "i hear what everyone says. they call me a monster, a machine. sometimes i just want to be axel." you nodded, this time you didn't have anything to say. "that's why i like to travel. i get to disappear in each city whenever i'm not fighting."

"how many cities have you been to?"

"a lot." he chuckled and listed all the cities and countries he's been to. you listened in awe. "what about you?"

"i've never really left california." you responded. "but after being here, i'd love to see everything. the sagrada familia makes me feel small but not in a scary way. it's like a monument to the great things humans can do."

"how cute!" a familiar voice interrupted. "little rival team playtime, huh?" kwon and another cobra kai came from around the corner. "thought you were only for miyagi do to play with."

"and i thought i told you to leave me alone." you tried to push past them but they blocked the path. you could smell the alcohol on kwons breath as he spoke. "just let us go."

"what's the magic word?" kwon asked, leaning in closer to you.

"move." you responded bluntly, not wanting anything else to do with this.

"wrong." kwon scoffed and shook his head. he glanced over your shoulder and you were sure someone was behind you.

"we just want to go back to the hotel." you weren't planning on giving kwon what he wanted.

"okay. you can go, only if you say please." kwon was in your face again, smug smile plastered on his face.

before you knew it, the other cobra kai kicked axel. it barely affected him as he shot into action to defend the both of you.

"come on, hit me. show me why they brought you here." kwon tapped his cheek and you were about to raise your arm when you were grabbed from behind. you elbowed whoever grabbed you multiple times before being able to slither out and kick him across the face. at the same time, axel shoved the other cobra kai into kwon. "okay come on. i'll take you both."

the sound of sirens took everyone but kwon out of the fight. he was still pressing axel and had to be taken away by his teammates.

"come on, let's go."

the two of you bolted back to the beach. after catching your breath, you started laughing a little.

"what?" axel asked.

"that guy kicked you and you barely moved. you have a strong base."

axel looked away from you, a smile spreading across his face. "thanks. that was a nice roundhouse."

"thanks, axel." you smiled at him and then looked out at the ocean. when you looked back at him, he was staring. no, he was admiring you. "what?"

axel said nothing, he only reached to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. his hand brushed against your face and you leaned into the touch.

and then he kissed you.

and you kissed him back. it was perfect. he was cradling your face with one hand, pulling you closer by your waist with the other. his mouth moved against yours softly and romantically. it was sweet. he didn't want anything other than to kiss you and you were happy to oblige and let yourself be putty in his hands.

but then your head started spinning again. you pulled away abruptly, taking a deep breath as you came up for air. the alcohol, the running, and the kissing were all making you dizzy. "axel i-."

"i'm sorry, i should go. already after curfew." axel took off running down the beach.

"wait, axel!" you called out after him but he was gone. you felt terrible as you went back inside the bar to meet with your team. everyone was already heading out and robby was nowhere to be seen. you figured he had went back to the hotel and hoped he would be fine. everyone else on the other hand would be dealing with their drama for a minute, including yourself.

[elsweetheart]

what you heard : part one

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?

an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!

Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.

She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.

He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.

Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.

It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.

It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.

“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.

“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.

“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.

“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.

It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.

“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.

“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?

“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”

“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’

“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”

You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.

“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.

“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.

“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.

“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.

“Oh.”

Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.

“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.

“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.

“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.

“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.

“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.

“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.

“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.

“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.

“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.

“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.

“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)

“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.

“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”

Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.

Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.

“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.

“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.

“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.

“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.

“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”

“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.

“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”

Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.

Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.

From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.

“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.

“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.

She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.

Ah, shit.

“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.

“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.

“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.

“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.

“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”

“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.

“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.

“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.

“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”

You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.

“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.

“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.

“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.

“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.

“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.

“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.

“She was hot.”

“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”

“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”

Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?

She didn’t see you for two weeks.

Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.

She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.

Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.

As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.

“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.

“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.

“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?

“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.

“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.

“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.

“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.

“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.

“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.

“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.

“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.

“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.

“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.

_

“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.

“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.

“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.

“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.

“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.

“That might’ve been it, yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.

“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.

“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.

“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”

Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.

“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.

“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.

“Why?” You push. You know why.

“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.

“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.

“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.

“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.

She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.

“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.

You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.

“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.

“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.

“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.

“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”

“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.

“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”

Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.

“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”

“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.

You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.

“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.

“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”

You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.

“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.

Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.

“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?

“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”

It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.

“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.

“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.

“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.

“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.

“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.

“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.

Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.

‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.

part two

[minwonsgirl]

kiss me better.

— vernon x gn!reader

— fluff cause let's face it im obsessed

— contents : established relationship, vernon being cute w kids, kisses, vernon gives reader a hickey so I need the - 18 to stay away ok, sorta suggestive, nicknames (vernon; sollie, sol, baby, nonnie. reader; sweetheart, pretty)

"Does it hurt a lot?" hansol asked your neice in a soft comforting voice, standing on his knees so that he could match her height.

she nods her head and let's out a tiny sniffle, hansol coos at her and pulls her into his arms so that she could cry into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry baby I wish I could help you" he said, rubbing her back to calm her down.

you smile at them from the doorway. hansol always got along with your neice so well, it took you years to win her over and still all you two do is squabble (yes you fight with a seven years and yes you lose more often than not.) for him it was as easy as turning a page.

if it weren't for the fact that you loved him with every corner of your heart you would probably be jealous of their relationship.

when her cries quite down hansol slowly pulled her away and held onto her arms, "do you wanna know a secret?" he asked, she pouts and brings a hand up to wipe her nose while nodding her head slowly, "mhm" she hummed.

hansol pulls her next to him so that he could whisper directly into her ear, "my mom used to say that candies and kisses are best for hurts" he whispered scandalously. then he pulls out a snickers bar and hands it to her.

the chocolate bar automatically makes her smile, and when she raises her hands to take it from your boyfriend's hand, he presses a quick and soft kiss on top of the bandaid resting on her finger, causing her to let out a fit of giggles.

your girl catches a glimpse of you in the doorway and she immediately let's out the sweetest laugh and runs towards you, "look at what sollie got me," she said waving the chocolate in your face. you lean down to her height and make a show of groaning with jealousy and pout at her. "not fair, sol keeps giving you chocolates and keeps forgetting about me"

your neice sticks out her tongue and turns around to run back to vernon. she hands him the chocolate and like a routine he starts to unwrap it for her while she continues to babble with you.

"it's so totally fair," she says stubbornly.

you walk towards your bed and lay on your stomach while facing the other two sitting on the ground. "and how is that?" you asked, mimicking her stubbornness

"sollie keeps giving you kisses and forgets about me" she said.

vernon coughs and turns around to catch your stunned and wide eyes. your smiling though, and watch as the sweet little girl continues to say in a thoughtful voice, "and I have never complained about that !! but you complain about not getting chocolates all the time, so really its not fair for me"

you shake your head in a little bit of shock and a little bit of amazement. "how's your hand feeling, drama queen?" you prompted, knowing she would fall into your trap.

she gasps loudly and let's out in an offended voice, "I am not a drama queen !! ugh whatever I'm leaving," she said, biting into her snickers and walking away, you and vernon watch her waddle towards your rooms doorway. right before she leaves she turns around and gives you a stink eye, "I know when I'm not appreciated." and she closes the door on her way out.

you let out a slightly amazed scoff, every time you babysat her you saw this new side of her that made you realise she was no longer a baby, she was growing so quickly you were almost certain she was an anomaly or something.

"everything okay?" hansol asked, he had moved closer to the bed so that he could talk to you properly (and maybe steal a kiss or two.) the position made you taller than him, so you had tilt your head down a little to talk to him. "everythings perfect" you said, smiling at him.

"can I ask you something?" he asked, a mischievous smile taking over his face.

you narrowed your eyes and looked at him very suspiciously, causing him to break out into his heart smile. and boom goes your suspicion. damn his perfect smile that made you melt into a literal puddle.

"anything you want, baby" you said.

he pulls himself up even closer to the bed and smiles at you. "I got hurt," he said, pouting his lips, "on my lips. need you to kiss it better"

now here's the thing, laughing was your coping mechanism, it was as if would protect you from cringing or trauma.

which was exactly why almost as soon as those words left his mouth hansol's shoulders scrunched up and he let's out a humiliated yell, covering his face with his hands, and you let out the loudest cackling laugh ever.

"dude what is wrong with you" you asked, laughing at his embarrassed face. you turn over on the bed and continued loudly laughing at him. "why would you do that I have literally never denied you a kiss," you added.

"I was trying to be romantic," you heard him whine.

you couldn't see hansol anymore because your laughing put you on your back, but you could hear some shuffling around the bed, and suddenly he was crawling his way on the bed towards you, automatically making you move backwards and into your pillows for safety.

you tried to muffle your laughter by pressing you lips into a thin line, causing vernon to have that annoyed smile on his face. "you think I'm funny, sweetheart?" he asked, whispering it very close to your ear as if he was telling you a secret. you violently shake your head side to side to tell him no. hansol scoffs, and my god does he look attractive while doing it.

your eyes fell to his lips and every detail of it amazed you, how was he so fucking gorgeous? they trailed further and further down his neck, the curve of his adam's apple, the dip the followed after, the v shaped collar bones that led your eyes straight down his— "eyes up here, pretty. I already know I'm irresistible" he said with the proudest smirk on his face.

his cockiness was starting to annoy you, so before he could open his mouth again you pull him down, your lips meet his and you kiss the fuck out of him.

hansol doesn't object in the slightest bit. one of his hands grabs onto the headboard behind you and the other one goes under your head, your hands were balling up his hoodie.

when he pulls away to rest his lungs, you smirk at him, "does it still hurt or do you need some candy too?"

hansol laughs. he kisses your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw, and then your neck, "some candy wouldn't hurt" he says in a breathy whisper, and then he nips, and then he bites.

you gasped, your body jumping and hitting against his. he licks you neck to soothe it before repeating the action and sucking lightly. your body arched up against him, and your fingers pull at his hair. "fuck, nonnie" you moaned.

the bastard fucking laughs into your neck.

when the spot turns a dark purple colour, hansol moves away and stares at his work, he gives himself a satisfied nod and then leans in again to kiss it.

you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "what the fuck are you doing" you asked in confusion. vernon pulls back to look at you and shrug his shoulders, "kissing you better." he said.

you rolled your eyes at him and let out a laugh, "butyou gave me the hickey?" you said, confusion still flattering you features. vernon smirks as if he was the smartest boy ever and says, "yeah, now I have a reason to kiss you more, and you have a reason to eat more candies"

you think about how stupid your boyfriend is, and how badly you want to marry him.

[lyjen]

Deathwish

Summary: When Evan walks (Y/n) home to her apartment, they bump into something that turns (Y/n)’s cop radar on. They decide to check it out. But it goes horribly wrong when she makes a mistake.

9-1-1 Masterlist

…………………

“You know.. you didn’t have to walk me home.” (Y/n)’s voice spoke as her fingers intertwined with Evan’s, while he had his arm resting around her shoulders.

Evan smiled down at (Y/n). “You know I wouldn’t let you walk home alone. LA is full of creeps and criminals these days.“ He knew she would tell him to just go home.

They were walking home from the bar. Well, Evan was walking (Y/n) home from the bar. And after he watched her get in to her apartment, he would walk himself home. That was the plan.

The bar wasn’t that far from their homes. It was just a few blocks. A little bit too much to ask to call an Uber for.

“Yeah.. that’s true. But now that I’m a cop, I’m pretty sure i can handle it by myself is something would happen.” She says, as she glances a soft smile towards her boyfriend.

“Technically, you’re not a cop yet.” Evan spoke, as he received an offended look from (y/n). “I mean.. you are a cop! But not yet a cop.. cop. You know?..” He tried to talk himself out of it. He tried his best. God, she loved teasing him. To see him freak out like that, trying not to hurt her feelings..

She glances up at him, while their fingers were still intertwined together. As she starts to laugh at Evan’s try to save himself from this conversation.

Evan stops walking and let his arm slowly glide down her shoulder as she keeps on walking. He sighs while he shows a smile.

He knew he was panicking for nothing.

(Y/n) took place in front of Evan. “Yeah, I get it. I’m not yet a cop, I’m still a rookie. But I’ll get there.” She says determined.

Evan smiles and grabs her hand to pull her closer to his chest. He presses a kiss on her lips. Her hand tracing towards the back of Evan’s neck. For a second, it felt like it was just them. No drama. Just them.

(Y/n) flinches as she hears something falling in the alleyway they were standing in front of. Her head shot right to the entry of the narrow way. It sounded like break in noises. Her cop radar was already going off. “What was that?” She reacts to the sound.

Evan was also looking right at the alley. He pressed his lips into a thin line. As he softly shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He simply answers to her question.

She dropped her hand which was still placed on the back of Evan’s neck. And she pushed her jacket away, to let her right hand rest on her gun, which was pressed between her hip and her jeans. She always had a gun on her, now that she was a rookie. She turns her body away from Evan, so her body was facing the alley now.

“That were probably a few street cats messing around.”

For Evan it could be a couple of cats fighting and throwing stuff around. But it wasn’t that. It sounded suspicious. She knew the sound of a cat fight. And this wasn’t exactly the sound.

“Stay here.” (Y/n) whispers as she leans forward to take a step, but gets stopped by Evan pulling her arm.

“Are you kidding me? I’m going with you.” Evan stated with a low voice.

“Do you have a gun? Have you learned how to use one? No. So let me do this. I’ll be fine. Just trust me.”

Evan hesitated. But nodded in agreement. He knew he couldn’t stop her, once his girlfriend has something on her mind, he could try anything to go and stop her. But it wouldn’t matter because she would just go with her own plans.

Their eye contact disconnects, as she slowly but carefully walks into the alley. She can hear her own heartbeat beating in her ears and in her throat. She’d never done this before. But she had to step outside of her comfort zone if she wanted to be a cop.

Step by step, she gets deeper and deeper into the alley, holding the gun in front of her. She turns to the right. Following the soft voices she could hear. This alley was huge, like there wasn’t an end at all.

When she finally found the source of the voices, she kept waiting on the corner. So they wouldn’t see her. She could see three men, or at least she assumed they were men. All of them were wearing their hood. Which meant, those people were clearly up to no good.

She knew she couldn’t handle them on her own. (Y/n) had to call for back up. The only way to do that, was to call 9-1-1. But she had to get back to do that. Otherwise they might hear her.

When she heard enough, (Y/n) slowly started walking back the way she walked in here. “Going somewhere?” A low toned voice spoke up. Which send a shiver down her spine. There was a guy in front of her. Mask on, fully black clothed. When she feels how a few more came standing behind her.

She’s surrounded.

She feels a burning pain when something metal makes contact with her back. Which causes her to fall down on her knees, while she tries to break her fall with her hands. She holds herself up, keeping her from falling forward.

Tears started running down her face. The pain was spreading across her spine and shoulder blades. She started to breathe heavily, trying not to scream out, that’s the kind of reaction they wanted.

Not many seconds later, she felt one of the feet of the guys meet her abdomen. Which made her fall on her side. With her arms she reached towards her abdomen. She felt how the blood inside her body rushed through her veins to the place where the foot met her stomach.

A cough leaves (Y/n)’s mouth, blood mixed with spit coming out of her mouth. She groans at the burning feeling inside of her body. And with all of her strength she rolls onto her back. Trying anything to make the pain she felt to be come less.

He roughly grabs a fist full of her hair and pulls her up. Her back wasn’t touching the cold wet ground anymore. She was now sitting up, at least with the strength of the man in front of her. She didn’t have the power to keep herself up, to ease the pain that was pounding through her scalp now.

A furious yet annoyed look projected on (y/n)’s face “Mind your own business next time. Cop.” she collected all the spit and blood which filled up in her mouth, and spit it in the man’s face.

He lets go of her hair and wipes a hand down his face. She tries to break her fall with her arms and hands. Full with anger and disgust he takes a look at his hand, now full of the spit and blood. As he suddenly within a second points a gun towards (y/n).

“You have a deathwish? Cause I can make that wish come true right fucking now!” He said with a loud voice. (Y/n) stayed quiet holding herself up with her hands behind her back. Looking emotionless at the man.

(Y/n) had been in these kind of situations before. And she reached the point where if someone was pointing a gun towards her, it didn’t do anything to her anymore. It’s like she found the switch off button.

One of the others puts a hand on the top of the gun, and pushes it down to the ground, so it wasn’t pointing at her anymore. (Y/n) hears them mumbling something, she couldn’t quite catch whatever they were saying.

The man looks like he’s walking away. But then, within a blink of an eye, the man ran towards her. He’s standing over her, pushing her to the ground and hitting her in the face like she was a living punching bag.

Her vision turns blurry, and spots in black and white were starting to form in her eyes. She could still feel the man hoovering over her, as her vision totally turns into black.

Evan tapped his feet, and impatiently takes a look at his watch. Three minutes.. she went into that alley, three minutes ago. For him those three minutes, felt like three years. Evan couldn’t simply stand back and wait.

He wasn’t the type for it. He always wanted to help.

Evan knew that dating a cop, or a rookie, came with consequences, like his own job did too. But it was different. In some sort of way, it seemed like being a firefighter came with less dangerous situations. Yes, they’d run into burning building, help anywhere they could when they were in the middle of a natural disaster. But being a cop came mostly with weapons, criminals, drugs, fights and so much more where Evan didn’t have any experiences with.

It was scary because it was the unknown. He didn’t know what kind of criminals were running around in Los Angeles. He didn’t know what they were in capable of doing. Especially if they knew (Y/n) was a rookie.

“Come on..” he whispers to himself. He promised (Y/n) to stand back. To wait. To trust her. Yes, she’s a cop in probation period. But that’s still a cop. And she was a damn’ good one.

Another minute passes by. He groans, and let a hand go through his blonde curls. He sighs.

“Fuck it.” he mumbles to himself as he walks straight into the alley he just saw his girlfriend vanishing into. Gun or no gun, he was going in. Maybe he could fist fight himself out of it, if there actually was trouble. He had trained enough.

When he slowly, but carefully walks into the ally, Evan is focussed on every sound he hears. He can hear his own breathing fastening when he turns a corner.

Evan walks deeper and deeper into the alley, which truly felt like a maze by now. When he turns another corner he sees something on the ground in the distance.

Before he could even process what was going on, who or what was lying down on the ground a few feet further down the alley. But his gut was telling him that it was his girlfriend lying on the cold wet ground.

He feels how something cold gets pressed into the back of his shoulder. He hears a click. And within less than a second he could feel a cruel pain fill a huge spot on his shoulder.

(Y/n)’s vision was still blurry, but with every blink, they went a little more clear. She groans and turns on her side.

With her vision now being crystal clear. A gunshot rang through her ear drum. The gunshot went from a normal shot into a high frequency sound. She could see how a body fell down to the ground. Lifeless.

She doesn’t know who it was, who got shot. All she knew is that she needed to help. She rolled another 90 degrees, so she was now on her belly. (Y/n) tries to collect every single piece of energy she had left, and pushed herself up to her feet.

With her right hand still resting on her stomach, to try and ease the throbbing pain she felt from the bruises she assumed. She limps towards the victim. When she gets closer. She recognises that jacket. The grey jacket Evan wore at this exact night. “Buck?” She said with a confused tone. Why did he follow her? When she told him not to.

Panic rushed through her body when she saw her own boyfriend lying lifeless on the ground. She tries to run, but her body couldn’t handle it. So she made it a speed walk, mixed with a few limps in between her movements.

“Buck!” she called out louder through her sobs as she truly realizes what was happening. She drops herself to her knees next to his side as she cried his name out multiple times, with the hope that he would open his eyes. “Evan. Please Evan. Wake up.” She shakes his arm and pats her hand on his cheek.

(Y/n) takes a look at his body, scanning him for the wound that got him going unconscious. As she spots the wound, she immediately starts putting pressure on it. She pushes the skin down with as much strength as she got. Both of her hands were spread with blood. (Y/n) reaches with one hand into the left pocket of the jacket she was wearing, reaching for her phone. Smears of blood were over her phone when she tries to dial 9-1-1.

“Firefighter down. Firefighter down” she repeats with a voice which sounded like she was out of breath and sobbing.

After a while she hears the sirens of police cars and ambulances in the distance while she was still trying to keep enough pressure on the gunshot wound.

Her arms were starting to shake, she was tired. Her whole body was aching at the wounds they had left her with. She can feel the presence of a few people getting to her side and her Evans. “27 year old male, gunshot wound to the left shoulder. Unconscious since I found him.” She hears how one of them tells her that she can let go now. That they’ve got this.

It feels like everything around her was happening in slow motion. But she wasn’t really present, it’s like nothing in her brains seems to see what’s going on.

The second she feels a hand touching her shoulder, she lets go of her boyfriend’s body. And she gets guided towards one of the other available paramedics.

She saw a familiar face coming into view. It was Eddie, who was probably on shift because he was wearing his dark blue uniform. “What happened?” He instantly asked her when he recognizes (y/n). Her face had a few cuts mixed with bruises and a black eye.

For a second it was silent. “It’s my fault.” she whispers. His eyes narrowed, and a confused look was projected on his face. He didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” he asked her with a confused tone. “He told me not to go.” She cries. Eddies lips went into a thin line. “Come here” he says as he pulls her to his chest, and feels how instantly a wet spot on his chest is created because of her tears. After a few moments, he pulls back. And takes a look at her face, which didn’t look good at all. “Let’s check you out hm?” (Y/n) nodded, and limped with him towards the ambulance.

…………………

Evan was sitting in his wheelchair one of the nurses gave to him. He wanted to see his girlfriend so badly, that sometimes he’d try and sneak out of his room. But he never came further than the doorframe of his own room. After the workers decided he was fit enough to ride around in his wheelchair, he was outside her room within seconds.

He was staring at her, through the window with these awful hospital blinds. She was in her bed, eyes closed with her face facing the ceiling. A few cuts spread over her face and a black eye that was healing.

Evan was brought in, unconscious on a gurney. And (Y/n) was perfectly fine. At least that was what they thought. But right now, they were waiting for (y/n) to wake up.

“Thought I’d find you here… I was starting to think you’d rolled yourself out of this hospital by now.” Eddie’s voice sounded through his eardrums. He took place next to Evan, so that he was now also looking through the window.

After a few moments of silence. He broke the silence. “You know what she said when we got on scene?” Eddie paused. Earning a questionable look from Evan. “It’s my fault. That’s the first thing she said.” He continued. Buck looked at Eddie. But didn’t know what to say. As he turns his head back to peek through the window. When Eddie didn’t receive anything back. “She’s blaming herself Buck.”

“I know.” Evan says now, with a trembling voice. “She told me to stay back. But I’d never be able to forgive myself, if I didn’t go after her.” He continued.

“She could’ve died, Eddie.” Evan finishes his sentence, Eddie could tell that Evan was on the edge of crying. He could hear it in his voice. Eddie puts his hand on Evan’s shoulder to give him some comfort. “Let’s not talk about what could’ve or should’ve happened okay? She’s alive. And so are you. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“But what are you doing out here? Why aren’t you in there?”

Evan shrugged with his shoulders.”I don’t know.” He answered simply, while he was still facing the window. Eddie put both his hands into his pockets. “Yes you do know.” It suddenly was like Eddie was talking to a child. They were silent. Eddie was waiting for an answer from Evan.

“I’m scared..” Evan broke the silence. “I’m scared that, if I enter this room. I’ll make everything worse. Like I did with entering that alley.” Evan continued. Eddie sighs. “It’s like the universe put a curse on me. Because when something is finally going good, everything falls apart again.”

“Buck. Stop. You’re not cursed. You two were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time. But all I know is, at this very moment.. you are at the right place, at the right time.” Eddie tries to convince Evan.

“(Y/n) needs you. She needs you to hold her, and tell her that everything is going to be okay.” He finishes. Evan sighs deeply, as his eyes went from the window to his best friend. “The only way to do that. Is to go in there.” Eddie says, while his and Evan’s eyes make a connection. Evan pushes his lips into a thin line. Deep down, he knew Eddie was right. So he nodded. His hands went to the breaks of the wheelchair, to take them off so he could move the chair freely.

Evan couldn’t wheel himself. His shoulder was still hurting and healing from the surgery they performed on him. So Eddie pushed the wheelchair inside, so Evan could sit on the left side of her bed. Eddie patted him on the shoulder and left the room.

The room was filled with beeping sounds of the equipment which was connected to her body. He didn’t know what to do.

He sighs. “Why would you blame yourself?” He whispers. He decides to put his hand on hers. Her hand wasn’t cold. But it wasn’t warm either. He rubs his thumb over her hand.

“Remember when we met for the first time?” He smiles at the thought. “We got a call of a house fire. So went out to the call, and we found you and your TO outside the house with the victim. And Bobby got so mad at you two, because there were so many toxic gases in the house. But you went in to save that man’s life anyway without any gear.” He chuckles while a tear went down on his cheek. “He was so mad” he laughed while he squeezed her hand.

“And then when we offered you a health check. And after you got checked out when I was walking back towards the truck, to bring back my oxygen tank.. You straight to the point told me I was cute, and that we should go on a date.” He smiles at the memory. She was so straight to the point sometimes. And that’s what he loved about her. “I’m so happy that I listened to my gut, and went on that date. Even though everyone around me questioned it.”

Her head rolled to the left side, as she slowly opens her eyes. Her vision blurry, but with every blink it became clearer, and clearer. She smiled when her eyes connected with her boyfriends. Her throat was dry as she tries to swallow. “Me too.” She answers his last sentence. Evan’s smile grew wider as he puts his other hand on her cheek. “Hey” he says softly.

“I’m so glad that you’re okay.” Evan sighs as he puts her hand towards his mouth and gives it a kiss. But he notices how her facial expression changes within a snap of a finger. “What’s on your mind?” He asks.

“I should’ve called it in.” She sighs. Still blaming herself for the incident. “I could’ve just ignore the sound.” She goes on. Evan shook his head. “You were ambushed. And outnumbered. Any other cop, would’ve done exactly the same as you. You can’t blame yourself for doing something good, even if it goes wrong.” He tries to get eye contact with her, but she was looking at her feet. A tear falls on her cheek. Evan puts a strand of hair behind her ear. And wipes the tear away with his thumb.

“Don’t blame yourself for being who you are.”

[mingsolo]

enough

hongjoong x reader (afab) / smut, angst, established relationship / warnings: jealous hongjoong, couple fights, cursing, alcohol mentions, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), overall drama, wc: 3.5k / r: 21+

another little fun project with my lovelies at @pirateeznet <3 this came out more dramatic than intended, no apologizes, you'll have to keep with my slice of life shit until end of times (can't sacrifice drama yall know me!) find the rest of jealeousteez at @sanjoongie @flurrys-creativity & @daemour blogs as usual, the dream team

 Friday night. 

The studio where Hongjoong worked was throwing a party to celebrate the hit sales of their newest signed artist. It was what you liked to call, cocktail fancy. Knowing Hongjoong was still pissed about you going to the concert of their rival company’s it group, you choose your outfit accordingly.  

Once there, you followed him around the party, as he talked with several people but didn’t cross a word with you and it was firing you up. Fine, you thought, if he was going to be petty about you enjoying yourself, so be it.

Without him even noticing, you slid off his side and went on to find the bar, needing to start drinking something to relax and mask your bad mood. You drank alone, people at the party knew you were Hongjoong’s girlfriend and to your surprise, they kept their distance, and you didn’t know anyone enough to start a conversation yourself.

Finishing your first drink you go to the ladies room to refreshen, and are surprised when you find someone sitting on the stool you left.  The huge back and wide shoulders were enough to have your attention. You turned to see if you could spot Hongjoong, and you did. He was now talking to a woman that had been eyeing him all night long, she was leaning towards him as they spoke, the arms where she handled her drink touching your boyfriend with every movement. And he was letting her. 

Fuck this. You thought, walking towards the wide shoulders that took your seat and tapping on them. “Excuse me, this was..” You stop recognizing the face of the man instantly. 

“Oh, sorry I was just ordering something.” He smiled at you. 

“Oh! Hi” you said awkwardly, “You are?...” you knew it was him, but felt like asking anyway. Bang Chan, lead singer of the group you just saw a few days ago. The one that noticed you several times while you jumped on your little dress and looked back as he walked away. 

His eyes grew wider, “Barricade, pretty red dress, with the harness.” He smirked. How the fuck he remembers you were at the concert? but then again, he was looking at you all night, and at some moments he seemed to be performing for your eyes only.

“Yeah!” you let out louder than intended. He moved from the stool and offered it back to you, you took the seat and started talking to him about the concert, when you felt a cold stare in your back. 

“Do you work in the company?” Chan asked. But you were frozen at the sight in front of you. There was Hongjoong, standing straight, sipping on his drink watching you. 

You snapped out of it when you felt Chan fingers tapping your shoulder. And immediately panicked. Hongjoong finished his drink in one go and walked towards you, coming from behind the man and sliding his arm around your hip rather tightly. 

“Chan!,” his sly smile couldn’t hide his annoyance. “Have you met my girlfriend, Y/n?”

Chan straightened his previously comfortable position and nodded, greeting Hongjoong back. The three of you remained silent for a few seconds, Hongjoong never taking his eyes off Bang Chan who smiled awkwardly. 

“Y/n and I have to go, enjoy the party.” He said, taking your hand and almost sprinting towards the door, leaving Chan with a confused look and the words on his mouth.

“You have some nerve.” you snapped once outside the party. Hongjoong was walking rather fast, not leaving your hand and practically dragging you. 

“And you don’t?” Hongjoong snapped back, turning to face you as he asked the valet for his car. 

“Huh?” You were shocked. He was neglecting you so much lately, leaving the studio late or not leaving at all, barely talking to you, then getting mad because you attended a concert he knew you wanted to go to for months. Not to mention the woman he let cling onto him all night, while he was purposely ignoring you.

You walked straight to the car and got in, not waiting for him. Once in, he started driving, hand firm on the grip of the steering wheel. Silence filled the whole ride. You were angry but also hurt that he would act this way, when you felt he was the one at fault. 

Quickly you arrived at the apartment building, and you could feel the need to get out even if Hongjoong wasn’t even finishing parking yet. 

“I’m going inside now, I don’t want to talk to you,” you said trying to open the car door, but Hongjoong had locked it. “Seriously?”

“You know why I was mad?” He snapped. You tried to meet Hongjoong’s eyes but he was looking straight ahead at the concrete wall of the parking lot. “You wore the dress I bought you for our anniversary to their concert, you let other guys see you in that dress before me…”

You opened your mouth in disbelief. “You can’t be serious right now…” your voice barely whispers, hurt and angry at the same time. “I wore this dress for our anniversary, remember? The one you couldn’t make it to, because “You had to finish this recording”” you said air quoting the latter. 

Hongjoong couldn’t look at you still. 

“I waited for you for hours, and that was months ago and I didn’t said a fucking thing, but you blow upon me the first chance you have.” 

Facing the opposite direction he pressed the unlock button on the door. You waited for him to speak but he remained silent. Fine.

“I don’t get you, do you want this or not?”. You asked but didn’t wait for an answer. Before you began tearing up, you hurried and got out of the car. “Go stay with Yunho or Seonghwa, I don’t want you home tonight.” 

He lifted his eyes and your heart broke in a million pieces seeing his already dark eyes somehow getting darker, but you closed the door and didn’t look back and walked straight to the complex elevator, desperate to get home. 

Hongjoong didn’t follow back, but you wished he did when you opened the door and all the repressed anger and hurt struck you at once. The whole apartment reminded you of him and how much you wished he would simply accept he was neglecting you, and you will forgive him on a whim, cause you love him so much, but this time it was simply too much to let go with a sorry… he had to promise to start taking more care of you and your relationship. 

As you entered your bedroom you saw the red dress still hanging out the corner of your stand up mirror, and you regretted entering immediately. Taking just a pillow you laid down on the couch, and cried until you fell asleep. Hope still lingered that Hongjoong would come back and tell you everything would be okay, even if you felt this time you couldn’t accept it so easily.

The next morning came and you woke up almost mechanically, even if your phone didn’t ring your usual alarm. You took it out from your purse finding out it was drained of battery. Entering your bedroom looking to charge it you felt a sting in your heart again, knowing Hongjoong didn’t come after all. 

“You told him not to…” you scolded at yourself, as if it helped somehow. You tried to calm down, taking a long warm shower to remove all the makeup you did not last night. You looked terrible and it was making everything worse. 

When hours passed you were feeling more and more anxious. You finally went to the bedroom to see if you had any messages or missed calls, when you heard the doorbell ring. You knew it was him, who else could it be?.

You took a deep breath. 

Opening the door, you met Hongjoong’s swollen face. Oh god, he had been crying too. You remained strong and let him in without making a comment on his appearance. “You know you have keys, right?”. Hongjoong smiled bitterly and entered, closing the door behind you. 

He looked terrible, so you urged him to go freshen up first, while you gained some courage for the talk that was inevitably coming. As you heard the water sink run and him brushing his teeth, you paced around the kitchen, drank a glass of water, feeling nervous again when he came out the bathroom looking slightly better. 

“You didn’t answer my calls, are you okay?” he said, sitting on the arm of the sofa, facing you.

“I fell asleep soon after you left.” 

“I didn’t leave,” He sighed deeply, stroking his temple. “I called Seonghwa to see if I could crash, but after I told him what happened he called me an asshole and told me to come back and talk to you,” 

“What?” you felt your chest tighten. “You were down in the car all night?” Hongjoong nodded, but he seemed unphased. You could see in his face he was trying hard for the words to come out, but he was trying so hard to find the courage to tell them. “Hongjoong…”

Hongjoong stood up and got closer to you. He took your face in his hands and after looking at you for a moment, he hugged you tightly. “I do want this, I love my life with you, please Y/n…” 

You broke down immediately. 

You remained silent, but hugged him back carefully. “I’m sorry I was absent, that I’ve neglected you so much that you start to think I don’t care about you… what you said last night really hurt, to think you feel I don’t want this.”

He broke the hug and sat you on the sofa, leveling himself to meet your eyes. “I have no excuse other than I was so into my work that I started to get careless with the person I love the most, and who I am doing most of what I do for… I was so angry when I saw you come back from the concert all happy and glowing, not because you went but because you were so beautiful in the dress and I did remember that I couldn’t… no, that I didn’t make it that night because I was selfish and thought finishing a recording was important, but it wasn’t” 

Hongjoong was speaking hurriedly, broken and vulnerable.  You had never seen him like this in all your years together.

“And then last night I saw how that guy that you were so happy to go see was touching you and I wanted to punch him, I cannot stand others looking at you like they want you… and it made me angry, I fucked up by grabbing you out I know, and I’m sorry…” 

You loved him,and were willing to forgive him, but you had to make sure that he would never hurt you in this way again. You stood up and got closer to hug him tight, just like he did moments before. Hongjoong hugged you as well, burying his head on your neck.

“It hurts me you didn’t trust me, but I also thought you and that woman were too close… and you were letting her, so I also thought of acting up when I realized who Chan was, so I’m sorry for that as well” You fought back the tears but you kept going. “Hongjoong, you have been my life for so long now, I certainly won’t risk that, but I was hurt, and pissed…”

Hongjoong broke the hug to look you in the eyes.

He took your face into his hands. “Y/n, I love you so fucking much, please give me a chance to make it up, to work up so you can trust me again” 

Seeing his pleading eyes, knowing this was not something he did to get out of a fight, he was really giving you his word and you were willing to forgive him, because you loved him, and you could feel he loved you as much. You pressed a soft kiss on his lips. Hongjoong rounded your waist with his arms, pressing his lips with a little more force, asking you for permission to go deeper. Kissing him felt like walking on clouds. The space around you turned into something out of reality.

Separating only because both ran out of air, you smiled at each other, foreheads pressed together. You were feeling so many things at once while he kissed you. Putting your hands around his neck you got closer and bit his lip, suddenly you felt heavy on your chest and your stomach started going crazy with the butterflies. God you missed his touch so much.

“Hongjoong?” you whispered softly into his lips. He hummed against them. “I love you, promise me you'll never risk my love again” 

“Never,” He pressed his hands into your waist and kissed you deeply. You felt the burn he provoked you in your lower stomach, every time he kissed you like he was right now, was like a firecracker ready to start something bigger. 

“Love, I can keep going if you want to…“ Hongjoong began to say, but you stopped him by gently placing your hand to stroke his length, feeling it exactly how you wanted it to be. Would you let me, after how I acted last night?” he whispered into your ear, while softly stroking the back of your head.

“You know the answer to that… please”

“Fuck, you are too good for me”

And you knew you were done for just by his gaze and the way his hands started to work their magic.

You lean on the arm of the couch, while Hongjoong makes his way down, his face facing your tights. He looked up to look at you, seeing him that hungry for you made you feel restless and nervous, it had been a long time since you were together like this, it feels like the first time all over again.

“I’ll ask once more, love?” You bit your lip and stroked his hair a couple of times. He smiled at you with such a devilish gaze that a chill went down through your spine.

“I will take that for a yes then” He said, grabbing your tights from the back with each hand.

“You know too damn well I’m already done for…” His hands went to undo your jeans, bringing them down with one move down to your ankles until they were out the way. With your foot you quickly kicked them to the side. Hongjoong then removed your tank top, happily discovering there was no bra in the way. 

He then grabs you by your ass, pulling you closer, facing your core. “I thought I was going to fuck you to make it up for you, but I see I will have to punish you a little, no bra?” He stood up and lifted you up, you hugged him with your legs, arms around his neck, but he quickly sat you on the couch, your back laying on the sidearm, then he spread your legs wide open as he leaned between them. “You remember what’s the punish for being naughty?” He asked. 

“Should I remember you this is my house? I would be insane to wear one…” you laughed.

“You’re right, but for fun, let’s pretend” before you couldn’t say anything, he quickly removed your underwear, facing and licking your core with a single flat strike. Your back arched at the touch of his tongue and you started shivering. “I’m just starting, please bear with me”

You took a deep breath to relax a little. 

Hongjoong had fucked you so many times, but again like this was new, you felt so aroused.  Almost as he was a stranger and you didn’t know what he was going to do to you. Hongjoong started playing with your clit, moving his tongue in slow and then fast motions, dancing in between them not giving you a chance to feel any control over it. Your hands are looking for something to grab for support with no luck. You couldn’t resist more and one hand went on grabbing his hair so tight that Hongjoong had to stop for a second. You let go of him the instant he lifted his gaze at you.

“Don’t do that,” he ordered and you feel your heart drop. “If you do that again I won’t be nice to you anymore,” He glanced menacingly at you and went back to his work on your clit, now switching between full strokes, kisses and deep sucking. You felt your arousal near but  your whimpers and moans only seemed to make him amused as he kept going at the same pace and slowing down when he felt you were close. He knew every inch of your body and all the ways he could make you see stars, as much as how much you could hold on before finally breaking, and he enjoyed making you feel this way by his tongue only.

He then sat on this knees and lowering his body just a little began teasing you with his fingers, first just touching the outside of your clit softly, looking your face and how you couldn’t keep your eyes open, he then inserted one finger into you, your back arched and your hands were grabbing the fabric of the couch to tightly that you might be ripping it off, but you couldn’t care less, you needed any kind of support. Then he placed another finger, moving them both at a pace that had you moaning and breathing heavily. Hongjoong leaned forward to you without releasing his fingers from your pussy, and kissed you deeply, you grabbed his hair once more but this time he didn’t resist your touch, you were practically pulling his hair but he was letting you have this, seeing you so helpless, he put on a third finger and you had to broke the kiss to let out a moan that make Hongjoong shiver.

“Fuck, I want you to hear that again, scream for me”

You did as told and left moans, screams and whimpers whilst Hongjoong played with his fingers inside you, once more you were close to your release and he noticed, his pace became slower and you let out a sigh in frustration of your denial.

“Hongjoong I’m close… please…”

“I know love, I think is time to reward you for being so patient”

He let out his fingers from inside you, and placed them in front of your face, ordering you to lick them clean. You did and he groaned at the sight of you sucking on his fingers. “Such a good girl” He then removed his blazer and shirt, and began to unbutton the pants and lower his boxers, while you tried to adjust your body on the couch to get ready to receive him.

“Turn around, I want to see your pretty ass while I fuck you,” You obeyed and turned around, on your knees giving him a wide view of your ass and bareback.

“To think I could miss this makes me go crazy, you look so beautiful, and you are mine forever”. As soon as he said the last word he slammed his cock into you without a warning. You left out a dry moan that felt more like a scream and he grabbed you by the back of your neck while leaning into you, his full length sinking in and out at a pace Hongjoong knew could make you scream, and so you did, you screamed out his name between muffled cries as he moved inside you.

“So tight,” Hongjoong started caressing your ass softly, and then you heard a spank, then another, his breath was getting heavy and little moans were coming out of him, he was getting closer too, you could feel his cock so deep into you, and you couldn’t hold much longer. “Come for me Y/n, I want to feel it” He whispered, leaning into your ear.

And so you came at his command, as you always did. When he could feel you tighten against his cock, Hongjoong couldn’t resist anymore and left a moan that made you euphoric and you swear you came some more just by the sound of his own release. He laid his upper body on your back, one hand on your waist, the other on the side of the couch trying not to make both of you fall. Once he had make sure all his cum was inside you, he caressed your ass again, kissing your back and pulling out, you moved and sat beside him, then he took you closer to him, your head on his chest, you could hear his heart beating so fast it seemed like it was going to get out of him.

“I don’t want to be anywhere but with you, that’s all I’m sure of in this life”. He said in a drowsy tone, while stroking your back with one hand and the other, pulling back the baby hairs on your forehead. You pressed a little kiss on his toned chest.

“I won’t let you forget it then, I promise.” 

@mingsolo please do not re-upload/translate to other sites.

[stunie]

i was listening to after midnight by chappel roan and i just! imagined! tsubaki!

like imagine being out with a shitty boyfriend whose ignoring you at a bar and just

“i kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend if you don’t mind- i love a little drama- let’s start a bar fight” and just!

i’m so down bad for tsubaki it’s a problem 😭😭😭

-🥟

🥟 !!! this ask was such a vibe tbh i loved it this sm. you gave me a fun lil song (that’s now in my playlist btw) and a scenario anddd an awesome character ?? i had to write something :> thank u for dropping by !!!! tsubaki is such a lovely character <3 (u r even lovelier)

tasuku tsubakino (tsubaki) x f!reader. sfw. cw cheating (but ur technically not in an official relationship so…!?)

“he’s not with you?”

you’re perking up at the familiar sound of tsubaki’s voice, doe eyes locked on his figure as he slides into the seat beside you before letting out a heavy sigh.

“this again?” he gestures towards your boyfriend, the one who was currently on the other side of the room— over there with another girl.

you’re as quick as always to start shaking your head in denial, hands balling up into frustrated little fists as you press them further into your lap— because hearing things like this never got any less embarrassing no matter how many times you had heard them.

and now that you think about it, it seems like tsubaki was always the one who was catching you at the worst times possible. it was always him being there with you as soon as your boyfriend was leaving you all by yourself again.

and actually… could you even call him your boyfriend? he never officially asked you out.

you can still remember it as clear as day— the very first time tsubaki had asked you if you were seeing anyone. the pause in your voice before you were sputtering out the most confusing response he’s ever heard in his life was all he needed to understand your situation.

you hear tsubaki let out a knowing hum from beside you as soon as your lips are tugging into that pouty frown that he’s grown all too familiar with. that boyfriend of yours— he thinks to himself, what a fucking waste. a pretty face like yours should never be given a reason to frown like that.

it would never happen with him.

“want me to keep you company instead?” he’s giggling when your lips fall open in surprise, deciding to push that bubbling feeling of frustration away for a second and really take in that adorable look you’re giving him.

“i’m more fun, anyways.”

“…h-huh?” you stammer, and the sweet smile tsubaki gives you in response does nothing to rid of your clear confusion. “isn’t that… you know?” you’re quickly looking around before you lean in, as if whispering a dark secret to your best friend, “..cheating? that’s bad.”

oh. you’ve always been exactly like that from the very first day he met you. almost painfully sweet and so, so very oblivious.. because this alleged boyfriend of yours clearly had a much different idea of what you two were.

tsubaki knows this because he’s always kept an eye out for you. you might be too oblivious to notice the men who’ve been ogling at you this entire time, but he’s not.

if your loser of a boyfriend wasn’t gonna protect you, someone else needed to.

“hm?” tsubaki’s fingertip presses into his bottom lip, head tilting to the side, “well, you two aren’t official, no?”

your pout deepens at the implication.

“it’ll be me,” he points to himself, “and you,” he flicks his manicured finger your direction, and you’re suddenly much more aware of how pretty his lipstick looks on him when his lips are moving like that.

“and i’ll give you a little kiss.”

“hm..” your voice comes out quiet and murmured when his hand comes to cup the side of your cheek, thumb stroking the skin as he leans in a little closer, eyes softening as he patiently waits for your decision.

“o-okay,” you finally nod, and he’s letting out an small exhale he didn’t know he was holding to begin with, “…and this is gonna make him jealous?”

tsubaki gives you an eager nod.

“he’s missing out big time,” he smiles at you, eyes flickering towards your boyfriend for a moment— making sure he gets a clear look at this before he’s delicately tilting your head up, closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

your eyes are quick to flutter shut as the familiar heat rises in your cheeks, and you wrap your fingers around tsubaki’s wrist to keep him exactly where he’s at. he’s gentle with you, but the soft whimper that slips out of you from the way he’s moving his lips against yours has his heart skipping a couple beats, his free hand now wrapping around your waist to bring you even closer against him.

“good,” tsubaki whispers against your lips between kisses, sneaking a glance at your boyfriend— who was now staring at you with wide eyes, “let’s show him just what exactly he’s missing out on.”

[rpmemes-galore]

Chappell Roan : The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess album ... sentence starters

tw for some sexual content and language

"Is it casual now?"

"You're losing it lately."

"I'm so sick of online love."

"It's gonna cause a scene."

"You wonder why I'm bitter…"

"I just wanna get to know ya."

"You coming home with me?"

"We're hot, we're drunk, wow."

"Won't make my mama proud."

"Mini skirt and my go-go boots."

"But I can't help what I can't help."

"Baby, why don't you come over?"

"Let's make this bed get squeaky."

"So slow down, sit down, it's new."

"Got so close, but then you lost it."

"Oh my god, you are heaven sent…"

"If karma's real, hope it's your turn."

"It's comical, the bridges you burn."

"Should've listened to your friends."

"If I didn't love you, it would be fine."

"Fell in love with the thought of you."

"So, baby, let's get freaky, get kinky."

"I thought you thought of me better."

"It's hot when you have a meltdown."

"Do you picture me like I picture you?"

"She showed me things I didn't know."

"Every place leads back to your place."

""Here we go, again. Everything is fine."

"Not overdramatic, I know what I want."

"And he was wearing these fugly jeans."

"Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine."

"Wishing you the best, in the worst way."

"This is what I wanted, this is what I like."

"Oh, some good girls do bad things, too."

"Can't be a good, good girl even if I tried."

"I try not to care, but it hurts my feelings."

"I love a little drama, let's start a bar fight."

"It's all in my head, but I want non-fiction."

"You're hating yourself, I'm feeling myself."

"I know you want it, baby, you can have it."

"I could be the one, or your new addiction."

"Never waste a Friday night on a first date."

"Now I'm choked up, face down, burnt out."

"I've been a good, good girl for a long time."

"But, baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side."

"So, now when we kiss, I have anger issues."

"I don't want the world, but I'll take this city."

"Could go to hell, but we'll probably be fine."

"Every night's another reason why I left it all."

"Got what you wanted, so stop feeling sorry."

"Ruined my credit, stole my cute aesthetic…"

"'Cause if we do coffee, it's never just coffee."

"I try to be the chill girl but, honestly, I'm not."

"We're leaving the planet and you can't come."

"People say I'm jealous, but my kink is karma."

"You'll say that you're sorry. I know that's a lie."

"Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place."

"Um, can you play a song with a fucking beat?"

"Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions."

"That’s my type of fun, that's my kind of party."

"Who can blame a girl? Call me hot, not pretty."

"You don't have to stare, comе here, get with it!"

"I guess we could pretend we didn't cross a line."

"And you're getting pissed off, it's getting me off."

"'Cause everything good happens after midnight."

"If you really wanna leave, I'll never make you stay."

"No need to be hateful in your fake Gucci sweater."

"To think, I almost had it going, but I let you down."

"No one's touched me there in a damn hot minute!"

"I'm feeling kinda freaky, maybe it's the moonlight."

"I'm feeling kinda freaky, maybe it's the club lights."

"There's no one else who could. the only one is you."

"You sent him pictures and playlists and phone sex."

"I heard you like magic. I've got a wand and a rabbit."

"I kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend, if you don't mind."

"We've done this before, and I don't need it anymore."

"It's not attractive wearing that dress and red lipstick."

"If it hasn't happened, yet, then maybe you should go."

"Who knew that we'd let it get this bad when it ended?"

"He doesn't have what it takes to be with a girl like me."

"I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell."

"My friends call me a loser, 'cause I'm still hanging around."

"Baby, do you like this beat? I made it so you'd dance with me."

"I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you."

"Nothing good happens when it's late and you're dancing alone."

"And you're getting called out, 'cause you're running your mouth."

"'Cause if we have wine, 'cause if we have wine. I know that's a lie."

"Lying to your friends about how he's such a goddamn good lover."

"What's it take to get your number? What's it take to bring you home?"

"Should've listened to your friends 'bout his girlfriend back in Boston."

"Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?"

[trash-magics-blog]

"You need a man... Not a boy"

Captain Price x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Your current bf is being a little bitch so John decides to put him in his place... And treat you right while he is at it

(Boyfriends name is Sean and you guys are arguing about him being childish and unruly.. TW for alcohol, I'm straight up obsessed with this man pls)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I fucking HATE you Sean! You're so fucking childish... Whenever I do something wrong you pout and run off to your mom, your almost 25! You yelled from your guys room, you and Sean had been fighting all day and you were so close to calling it quits.

"What the fuck ever you bitch! I'm leaving your ass, I hope you make it out there without me!" He stormed out of the house and slammed the door, it sounded like it broke and you also heard his car drive off, he finally left.

You and Sean were together for about 6 months and it was constant issues... From him being childish to him straight up hiding your keys and phone so you couldn't talk to your friends, it was due time for you to leave but you just couldn't pull yourself to do so, even if your best friend John told you that you could find better.

John Price. He was your closest friend, you guys met at a bar and you've always stayed in touch even when he left on his missions and whatnot but no matter what he was always there for you, more than your now ex boyfriend ever was. John didn't like Sean at all, said he was to much of a child, unbeknownst to you John was always trying to hint at you and him, but he didn't beat around the bush, he just didn't even stand by the bush. He was awful at hinting at things.

You called John, trying not to cry about the situation at hand, your house was a mess and everything was just a mess. "Hey John... I was wondering if you can come over?" He could sense the sadness in your voice and didn't hesitate to leave and go be with you. "I'll be there soon love, just give me a bit". After about 15 minutes John showed up and walked in, not minding the mess or anything and immediately wrapped you in a bear hug, he could tell what happened and was sorry for you, but also somewhat glad Sean left... You were John's now and he was gonna make sure of it.

"He called me a bitch and everything John... And he trashed the house and broke the damn door" you said into his shoulder, you had started to cry and pulled away from his hug to sit on the couch, John followed. You and him talked for awhile, he lifted your mood instantly and made you almost forget all of this drama and he helped you pick up the house somewhat. You loved John but didn't realise it till now, the way he made you feel and just everything about him made you love him, he was everything you needed in a man.

"Ya know what, how about we go out for drinks... You could use a few and I know the best spot in town" he suggested, you had no real reason to say no so you agreed and you two got in his car. "Sorry John, didn't mean to drag you into all this" you put your hand on your head and sighed, clearly a bit ashamed and slightly embarrassing. He put his hand on your thigh and squeezed it, causing her heart to flutter and he spoke "Oh love, I don't mind and you know that, he was a joke anyway... You need a man, not a damn child anyway, your to beautiful and too good of a person ya know" he blushed a little as he said that and you noticed, but didn't say anything just smiled to yourself and continued to look out the window, John's hand never left your thigh during the ride.

Soon you guys arrived at a random bar, you didn't catch the name of it. John came over and opened your door for you and helped you climb out of the truck, he had it lifted a bit, not a lot. You always loved how gentle and how old fashioned he was, he always opened the door for you and let you go first with anything, he knew how to love someone. As you guys made your way through the crowd of people and to the bar he put his hand on your thigh again, but higher.

"I'll take a scotch please... What'd you want love?" John asked, smiling at you. "I'll take strawberry wine please" you smiled at the Bartender and he went off to get your guys drinks. After you and john got your drinks you guys talked for what felt like hours, about anything and everything as well. There were a couple times where he made you laugh quite loudly causing people to look but you guys didn't care, you were having some much needed fun.

It reached the end of the night and the bar was nearly empty and you guys decided to leave finally after a couple rounds of drinks. You guys made it to his truck and you both got in the truck and just sat there, you both knew that there were deeper feelings peeking through, it was just a matter of who said it first. You heard john sigh and he looked over at you, you knew what was coming.

"Come here love, please...?" He asked, his voice sounded soft and he reached his hand out, to pull you into his lap. As you went over and sat in his lap you guys looked at eachother then you decided to do it, you grabbed his face and kissed him, he kissed back and pulled your hips to him. He slipped his tongue through your lips and the taste and burn of scotch hit your tongue and it sent a shiver down your spine... *The end of part 1*

A/N: I decided it would be like a little much to put the whole story in one post so the next part will be out whenever I get to it, I know I already have another price story needing to be finished but that done I just need to post it😭😭 I only come back to this when I'm like bored or whatever, but I hope you liked this!!

[blackenedsnow]

HII I was wonderin if you could write something for pickles the drummer where his s/o (gn) is possesive/protective of him?? I feel he deserves some doting I'd love to sucker punch Seth lmao

It can be a fic or hcs whatever is easiest pls and thank you 🔥🔥

pickles the drummer with a protective s/o ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Pickles the Drummer x Reader

NOTE: Hiii!! Thank you so much for this request—Pickles 1000% deserves some dotes, and Seth definitely deserves a punch or five, lol. Hope you enjoy this! Wishing you all the best!!

Let’s start with the obvious: you get it.

Pickles has that undeniable energy—he’s reckless, impulsive, and way too good at making bad decisions seem like good ideas.

But, man, he’s your reckless little rockstar, and that’s something you make known.

Anytime someone gives him a hard time (which is a often), you’re right there to step in.

Seth, especially, seems to test your patience.

The second he starts one of his “better brother” rants, you’re practically at his throat.

Pickles doesn’t even try to stop you.

He just watches like it’s a front-row seat to the best show he’s ever seen.

When it’s not family drama, it’s usually industry people looking to exploit Pickles’ talent or his tendency to… overindulge.

You’re sharp as a knife when you see them sniffing around him.

Whether it’s shady producers or party-goers trying to push something on him he doesn’t need, you have no problem cutting them off at the pass.

You know how people joke about those people who say, “They’re taken” when someone flirts with their s/o?

That’s you, but in the most unapologetic, territorial way possible.

Someone gives Pickles that look across the bar, and you’re sliding right up next to him with a grin that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey, Pickles. You making friends over here?”

Nine times out of ten, the flirters back off.

The tenth time?

Well, they learn quick.

Pickles isn’t used to being looked after like this, especially since so many people in his life expect him to be a trainwreck 24/7.

It’s honestly kinda overwhelming for him, but he loves it.

He might brush it off with a joke at first (“Aw, babe, you don’t hafta scare the roadies for me!”), but you catch him sneaking little smiles at you when you’re not looking.

He LOVES how much you hype him up.

You think he’s gorgeous, talented, and worth fighting for, and he soaks that up like a sponge.

On his more vulnerable days, though, when life weighs heavy on him, that’s when your protectiveness means the most.

He’ll sit with you on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, and you’ll remind him he’s more than what the world tries to reduce him to.

Oh, and if Seth tries to start shit again?

You’ve got a punch with his name on it.

“Man, you really do love me, huh?”

“Pickles, I would burn the world down for you.”

“Aw, babe, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 1: It Starts In A Bar

summary: your friends take you out to a local pub when you would much rather be grading assignments. a/n: hello! big surprise, me writing for john price! I don't know how long this will be, but I definitely have a general idea of where I want this to go. I hope y'all like it!

thank you @lethalchiralium for dragging me into the clubhouse kicking and screaming LMAO << Previous | Next >>

Why did they pick this place again?

Ah, right. “It’s a hometown pub, a staple to the community,” they said. That was clear from the couple dozen men and women, ranging from middle-aged to elderly, scattered about, and a few younger folks peppered into the crowd. It wasn’t run down by any means, just…a dive. You mindlessly picked at the peanuts and pretzels in little bowls, elbows perched on the edge of the sticky table, for hours. You chatted and occasionally laughed at the stories they shared about their homeroom students and the shenanigans the other grades got up to. You’d been teaching year thirteen for a while, students taking their A-levels in history. 

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, spent with a stack of papers to grade, surrounded by glowing candles scattered around your apartment accompanied by soft white string lights stretched across the ceiling. Instead, your friends somehow managed to drag you out of your cozy home to a dark dive in town. You loved them dearly (really, you did), but you had a routine. Your ideal Friday night wasn’t in a damp bar.

Your kids could be challenging at times in their late teens. They occasionally cause trouble, known for getting into fights, interrupting class, or bringing drama into the classroom. Nevertheless, you’d never had a set of students that was more than you could handle. They turned their work in on time and were always nosy about your personal life, which – much to their chagrin – was uneventful. Your love life was stale, to put it nicely. And your friends tried everything in their power to set you up on dates, every single one striking out miserably. It didn’t feel natural to meet some guy at a restaurant for a blind date.

One of them talked about themselves the entire time, barely letting you get a word in. The next ordered about three more drinks than you and a meal that cost twice as much as yours but demanded you split the cost of the date. You were all for splitting the bill but on the first date? Not a good impression.

The rest were uninteresting and immemorable.

“Seriously? You haven’t been on a date since – Oh, what was his name again?”

“Zachary,” you pointed out, taking a long sip of your drink. “You should know; you set up the date.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t realize he was such a bore one-on-one.”

“Thanks for that, by the way. Loved talking to myself for two hours.”

You all laughed at the memory, starting to finish drinks and gather belongings. “Let’s get to the next spot to find you a man!”

Bar hopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you knew better than to resist. It would all be over much faster if you just went along. Your companions were much quicker on their exit, considering the nearly-full drink that you felt like you just bought, and they were already moving on to the next dig. You threw the rest of your drink back, flinching as the big gulp of alcohol burned down your throat, and hurried to catch up with them. You took one of their outstretched hands, giggling as they just about pulled you into the circle exiting the pub–

“Excuse me, miss!” a deep voice called out. You’re not sure why, but you turned, feeling like the man was calling out to you. Your assumption turned out to be correct, and a tall, dark-haired man with a beard and a soft smile approached you. “Sorry, you left this.”

He held your cardigan to you. You must have abandoned it in your haste.

“Oh! Thank you so much. That’s kind of you,” you said, taking the garment back and draping it over your forearm. “I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached,” you added, tapping your temple with a soft chuckle.

“Quite alright.” Behind you, an elbow nudged your spine; you barely caught yourself from making a face and snapping at whichever acquaintance decided to egg you on. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re heading out.”

He certainly was handsome. His beard was well-groomed, just like his hair. It looked like he went to a barber fairly recently. He even dressed well, in a cream, ribbed polo tucked loosely into his jeans. Dark chest hair peeked out where the top two buttons were undone. It was an enticing offer…

“Um, yeah, but….” You looked over your shoulder and met expectant glances. Some looked like they were about to bust apart at the seams with glee, which made you roll your eyes. Clearly, you wouldn’t be missed. “I could hang for a little while longer.”

The man's smile grew, and his stance shifted to open a path toward the bar. “Are you sure? Y’don’t have to,” he amended, his hands in his pockets. His energy was warm and soft but still masculine. He held a confidence that not many people carried, at least not the men you’d been on dates with recently. And the Liverpool accent? Maybe things were starting to look up.

“No, no, I honestly need another drink.” You flashed your teeth back to him, folding your arms over your chest with your sweater in hand.

“In that case, after you.”

Before taking his arm, you realized you’d yet to even ask for his name. “Thank you…?”

“John.” John’s right hand hovered before you and he flashed his bright teeth. His hands were clean, nails neatly trimmed. Although, one nail bed was bruised.

Man, he’s pretty for a grown man.

“Y/N,” you replied with an easy grin. He kept a steady hold on your gaze, carefully examining the bright twinkle they held. You didn’t know it, but John had just returned from a long mission. One that had left him yearning for a shower, a haircut, and somebody to come home to. He’d never had anything to look forward to and stay alive for; no affection or comfort after a rough assignment, no one to care for and spoil.

And he wanted that.

“A surname to that, John?” you asked, sliding your hand through the loop he created with his elbow. Holy shit, he was strong. Your hand rested on the soft but well-built muscle of his bicep. You figured he must have a labor-intensive job, or he goes to the gym frequently. John didn’t seem like the type to spend hours at the gym in his spare time, so you went with the first option. You’d keep that in mind when making small talk later.

“John Price.”

“Very regal name.”

John scoffed but laughed nonetheless. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

John couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were unbelievably bubbly, especially for interacting with a stranger who only gave back your forgotten cardigan. He’d been watching you from his spot at the bar, laughing with your friends but zoning out every once in a while. He was no stranger to giving himself a mental break, particularly in a hectic environment like a packed bar on a cool, Friday evening.

“I’ll call you when I need a ride!”

You and John watched the giggly group exit the pub, happily waving as they piled into a cab. You waved back with your free hand, your other palm still pressed against his warm skin. They didn’t embarrass you too badly, thank god. You met John’s eyes, a dark color twinkling with mischief.

“Your friends seem chipper.”

“I’m so sorry. They’re just happy to see me talking to a man.” 

“Oh? Is that right?” he chuckled, nodding to your previously held table. John broke away briefly to retrieve his unfinished drink and denim jacket from the bar.

You followed his lead back to the booth, attempting to keep control of the flush you felt beginning to heat your cheeks. “They’ve set me up on many an unfortunate date. Not saying I don’t get along fine on my own, but–”

“It’s rough out there?” he finished, sliding into the cushioned seat across from you. When you nodded in return, John smirked. “Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

The man sputtered, choking on what looked to be an old-fashioned. Possibly a bad joke, but it was such a great opportunity; you were feeling frisky, and you couldn’t help the giggles that erupted following his reaction. “I teach history for year thirteen.”

“Oh, thank Christ.” John wiped the cocktail off his lip with the back of his hand, shaking his head at your laughter. “You had me going there. Five minutes into our date, and I’ve made a mess of myself.”

You quirked a brow. “So this is a date?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I would consider it light conversation. Getting to know each other.”

“That’s a date.”

“Mmm, I’d say it’s more casual than that.”

“I’m not looking for casual, love.”

You paused, examining his calm demeanor. He didn’t seem cocky, but honest, a welcome change to the pattern you’d observed over the last few months. None of your dates had been so bold as to know what they want and make their intentions clear. Especially not so quickly. It was refreshing.

“Me neither.”

“Good.”

You both sat in peace, pausing your conversation for the waitress. You ordered another drink, as promised, and folded your hands on the tabletop, fingers laced. “So, what do you do, John?” you asked, tapping your thumbs together.

“I’m in the military.”

You paused, expectantly waiting for him to continue, only to be met with silence.

“Care to elaborate?”

He tutted once with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

Interesting. Normally, resistance like that would be a red flag. On the other hand, his job could be “classified” or whatever is said in the movies. No alarms went off in your mind; your intuition told you that John was trustworthy, so you let it go. The pretty brunette dropped your new drink off and another for John.

“I can tell you that I’m a Captain.”

“So you have pretend kids too?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. A slight tinge of the citrus notes from the expressed orange peel wafted across the table. John’s laugh was distinctive, chesty and rumbly, inviting. “Of course. Mine are bigger, though, I’m sure.”

“Oh? They’re not scrawny little soldiers?”

“No. One’s almost two meters tall.”

“Jesus. How many?”

“Five. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet them.”

“Likewise.”

You fussed with your hair for about the thousandth time in your bathroom mirror and huffed when it wouldn’t settle right. John was to meet you in about fifteen minutes. Knowing him, that meant he would be buzzing up to your apartment any second. You’d been on a few dates and knew his date habits pretty well. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late. You had been out to dinner, grabbed coffee once or twice; you even grabbed an ice cream. So, it was a surprise when John suggested a trip to the museum. It didn’t seem like his thing, but you weren’t about to turn down a trip to the history exhibit.

As you expected, a familiar BZZT BZZT reverberated through your flat, signaling his arrival. The first time he picked you up, you let him into the building without using the intercom. You tried explaining that the speaker broke and your landlord had yet to fix it (shocker), but John wouldn’t hear it. You could have been letting in a random creep pressing buttons until some tenant unlocked the door. He insisted on creating a little system, so you would know it was him downstairs and not a kidnapper. From then on, he always rang the bell twice.

You gave up on your hair, switched the light off, and paged him in. Your unit was on the first floor (which wasn’t ideal), so it only took John a few seconds to reach your door. When you heard a knock at your door, you peered through the peephole (as promised) before unlocking the deadbolt, revealing a very well-dressed captain. John’s hair was a bit shaggy, but it suited him well. Your heart fluttered helplessly at the bright smile that appeared when he laid eyes on you, his gaze obviously taking in the sight before him.

It was a weeknight, and you didn’t have time to change between school and your usual errands. You threw a plaid skirt, thigh-high socks, and loose sweater together; just a sliver of skin showed between the top of your socks and hem of your skirt. You felt underdressed compared to John, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. 

“Hi,” he said, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Same to you. You always clean up well.”

“If you saw the state I’m usually in at work – you’d understand why.”

John kept a watchful eye to make sure you turned both locks for your door before guiding you outside to a waiting taxi with a hand on the small of your back. He held the door to your building and the car open for you. The drive was short, but the weather was starting to catch a bit of a chill, and you didn’t want to walk too far.

Ever the gentleman, the captain followed closely behind you up the steps to the gallery. Even if he weren’t perceptive, with years of experience reading people, he could tell you were excited to be there; however, he wasn’t so experienced in the ‘romance’ department. John honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he visited any museum, let alone a dedicated history exhibition. But when he suggested it and assured you that he would have a good time, he was only being partially truthful. Secretly, the man just wanted an excuse to listen to you talk. What better place to bring you than an exhibit where he knew you would talk his ear off for hours?

You slowly worked your way through each exhibit, explaining some pieces you recognized and their significance to the period; at displays you weren’t familiar with, you both quietly hovered closer to the title cards, reading through the description. While that kind of date wasn’t John’s usual cup of tea, he was glad he planned it; it helped him figure out how to slow the fuck down and try to be normal outside of a military setting or a pub.

His breath nearly stuttered every time you laid a gentle hand on his arm and drew his attention to the next section, beaming as you animately but quietly pointed out the tiny details in a Renaissance painting hung on the wall. The man couldn’t help but stare at how your lips curved at every syllable, wide eyes glued on the intricate scene portrayed. John hadn’t spoken much so far aside from the occasional affirmation that he was listening; he was very much in his head, unsure if you were excited to be there with him or just excited to be there. But, standing in front of the big painting, you went quiet. You met his gaze, and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin, which you returned before you both shifted back to the artwork. It was peaceful, absorbing the atmosphere and just existing together. Suddenly, John was jolted out of his reverie by the feeling of something brushing the side of his palm. 

You were itching to hold his hand all night but were too nervous to take that leap. What if he rejected you? That wasn’t likely after so many dates, but still. Your nerves got the better of you for the better half of the self-guided tour. Regardless, you had managed to work up the courage, cautiously grazing your pinky against his wrist and hand before wrapping it around his. You didn’t look away from the illustration, but he did, moving to you, then down to your hands.

He simply stared for a moment, surprised but positively giddy at the same time. Surely enough, John took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning just a bit closer to you. He could stand there forever, basking in your warmth and energy, the sound of your voice sinking into his every thought–

“Oh no,” you said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him worried, wrinkles forming between your brows. “I-I’m sorry. I was teaching again.”

He immediately gave you a reassuring squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk.” Jesus, did he have a way with words. He liked hearing you talk? With that accent, he could spew nonsense, and it would still draw you in. But hearing John Price give you compliments and praise? Flattery? You were a goner. “Tell me more about the next one?”

As if he could get any more fucking perfect.

“Okay.”

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[leighsartworks216]

Writer's Block

Zayne x gn!Reader

I've been stuck in a bit of a rut trying to write for these boys, so I decided to write a fic about writer's block to get out of my writer's block. To be honest, I have no idea how it worked as well as it did

Warnings: established relationship, swearing, domestic fluff, writer's block, food, eating, cuddling, forehead kisses, references to Clopidogrel the squirrel

Word Count: 2,436

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The little black bar blinks mockingly at you. The only mark on the empty document, taunting you for your lack of creativity, of imagination, of perseverance. Blink, blink, blink. Waiting for you to type anything. And you come up pitifully short.

You sigh and shut your laptop. You look around the living room, at the little knick-knacks you brought from your apartment when you moved in, the cozy blankets strewn about as the days get colder, and the clock on the wall. You could watch TV, pick out a book from the shelf, put together a puzzle…

You open your laptop again. The empty document continues to mock you.

What do you want to write about? Action? Well, you’ve never been very good at writing fight scenes or thrilling chases. How about some romance? Eh, you have no idea where to start with that, and relationship drama sounds about as appealing as a moldy pizza crust from the bottom of a week-old dumpster. If you were a bit cleverer, you would try your hand at a murder mystery.

“Love?”

You hum.

Zayne comes around the sofa to pick up your empty mug from this morning that sits lonely on the coffee table. He looks down at you skeptically. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“No,” you admit. He’d pry it out of you either way; might as well tell the truth. “My brain is stuck, right now. All I want to do is write, but nothing is coming out.”

“Why not take a break?”

“Because nothing else sounds good to do,” you try to explain. “Trying to do anything else feels bad, but trying to write also feels bad.”

He closes your laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “Let’s start with getting something to eat. We can go to that music-themed diner we saw the other day.”

You sigh, long and drawn out, but the look he gives you advises you not to argue with him. “Okay.”

He smiles slightly. “Your brain needs time to rest, even if all you want to do is push through it.” He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Go get dressed. Something warm; it’s chilly outside.”

“Yes, doctor.” You draw yourself up from the cushion, body aching from sitting there for so long. He raises an eyebrow at you. You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “Yes, my love.”

“That’s better.” He returns the kiss and heads into the kitchen to rinse out your mug.

You shoot one last glare at your laptop, before going to the bedroom to change.

-

The drive is mostly quiet. The soft hum of the AC pushing warm air throughout the car being the most prominent sound in the silence. You watch the people passing by, walking or biking along. You try to make little stories for some of them.

While Zayne is stopped at a red light, you point out his window at a teenage girl being pulled along by an overexcited dog. “She stole it from the pound.” He chuckles lightly, caught off guard by the sudden remark. “It’s a gift for her little brother, because their parents won’t let them get a pet. She’s gonna say it was running loose when she found it, and, ‘Oh please, can we keep it? We’ll take good care of it!’”

“Will they let her keep it?” he asks as the light turns green.

You huff and sink into your seat, staring back out of your window. “Who knows?”

He reaches over to hold your hand in your lap. His thumb runs over your knuckles, tracing the familiar path it takes every time you’re upset, brushing over the silver ring on your finger. It’s almost Pavlovian how quickly it soothes you. “I think they just might.”

You know it pains Zayne to see you like this, acting like a petulant child just because you can’t think of a few good words. You lean your head on his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Mhm, but can I anyway?”

He breathes a quiet laugh. “Yes, you can.”

“Then, I’m sorry for acting like this. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Of course. If you would like to make it up to me, we should go to that crepe stand in the park.”

You laugh and pinch his hand. He squeezes you back in return. “Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, we can go there after lunch.”

-

The diner is snug. All sorts of band memorabilia line every inch of the walls. The tables are decorated with images of album covers, protected by a layer of see-through plastic. You manage to snag a booth right by the door, giving you a perfect view into the connected gift shop, lined with instruments and CDs.

As you wait for your food, named after old 1980s and 90s songs, you and Zayne catch up. Small updates on how Yvonne and Greyson are doing, in exchange for an odd article you saw on Moments. You tell him about a cat you saw the other day that you forgot to tell him about, and he updates you on Clopidogrel, the squirrel who comes to his office window to beg for nuts. Once the food arrives, though, conversation is exchanged in favor of listening.

Over the old music blaring a little too loudly in the diner, you listen to the full tables of friends and family that chat. You overhear something about an Aunt Mindy who’s just adopted another parrot, despite already owning three. Someone’s boss who keeps microwaving fish for lunch, and the ongoing notes-on-the-fridge war about it. A friend of a friend of a friend who met some celebrity, or so they say, but they can’t be trusted to tell the truth because of such-and-such.

A couple sitting behind Zayne, right beside the entrance to the gift shop, seem to be on their first date. The guy is talking a lot, even speaking over the girl he’s with at some points. You try not to stare when she suddenly blows up about him not listening to her. He talks over her again to try defending himself. It gets so bad, two staff have to tell them to leave so they stop disturbing everyone else. They don’t even get their food as they stomp out, continuing to complain all the while. Zayne shoots you a look that says he knows you’ll be using this for your writing at some point down the line.

Bellies nearly full, with just enough left for a dessert crepe, Zayne takes a moment to take in the decor. There’s one sign high up on the wall that says, “If you remember the 60s, you weren’t there!” It must be quite old. Really, all of the stuff in here could be considered antique. It’s fascinating to see it being appreciated instead of locked away behind glass; given the chance to live again.

“Feeling better?” he asks as he leads you back to his car, parked in a lot nearby.

“Mhm. But now I keep thinking…”

“About what?”

“How glad I am that none of our dates went that poorly.”

He chuckles softly. You smile and hold onto his arm, leaning into him. “Well, there was that time early on…”

You laugh at the memory. “You should have gone right home! I told you not to worry about dinner!”

“I couldn’t leave you to eat at that restaurant alone, exhausted or otherwise.”

“But then I had to drive you back home, anyway! You know how I don’t like driving your car.”

The car in question unlocks with a beep. He opens up the passenger side door for you to get in. “I’m glad my perseverance didn’t ruin your opinion of me,” he says, before shutting the door and rounding the car to get into the driver’s seat.

Once he gets in, you poke his arm. “Of course not. It just meant I had to get on your ass more about overworking yourself.”

“Yet you still ignore my advice…” He gives you a pointed glance as he starts the car. “Do I have to start getting on your ass about overworking yourself?”

“You already are!”

“I could be far more insistent about it than I currently am.”

“Please don’t.”

-

The park by the hospital is familiar and welcoming, as always. A light breeze caresses your cheeks as you start walking side by side, and you’re glad you dressed warmly like Zayne said to. Still, you may or may not have used it as an excuse to walk even closer to him, to “conserve heat” as you fake a shiver. He’s so used to your antics by now, he teases you about the possibility of keeping an extra coat and scarf in his car for you.

The people at the crepe stand know you already. You try not to think about how often you must visit for that to be the case, as they ask if you want your usuals and get to building the crepes exactly as you like. Zayne is just patient enough to let you take a quick photo of both of your treats together to post on Moments. You fondly wipe away a small glop of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth that he misses, and he catches your hand before you can put it on his nose instead.

You walk to a secluded little bench that you’ve practically claimed for yourselves. You’ve never seen anyone else sit here, ever. It’s tucked away beside a small pond, where ducks huddle together as they float, flat beaks tucked under their wings as they enjoy an afternoon nap. The bench itself is old and worn down, covered in lichen and carved into by old lovers. But it’s yours.

You sit side by side, watching the waterfowl and enjoying your treats. When you finish your crepe, you lean your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist to keep you close, indulging in being a little more affectionate in the extra bit of privacy you have here. It feels nice, just being here with him.

“Thank you again for this,” you say softly. You can’t fight the smile that appears on your face when you feel his head rest on top of yours. “The head editor has been hounding us all lately to write something spectacular. As much as I love working for the paper, sometimes it makes writing painful.”

He hums in understanding. His fingers trace mindless shapes against your hip, only stopping when you squirm from how ticklish it is. “You went into a job that makes your hobby into work, but that detracts from the relaxing, fun experience it used to be.”

You sigh. “Yeah. And then the stuff I do end up writing for fun, I hoard to myself. I haven’t done that for years, because I like sharing my stuff with other people. Now, it’s like I have to keep that little scrap of joy all to myself.” You close your eyes and turn your head to press your cold nose against his jacket lapel. “I know I should just quit and find something else to do, but even if I want to write a novel or a book of my own, I’d still be turning my hobby into a job.”

“You would be able to work at your own pace.”

“Then who’s to say I’ll ever finish anything to be able to publish it?”

“What would happen if you didn’t publish anything?” he counters. “Aside from posting on the internet.”

You pause for a minute. If you did quit, start writing for yourself and decide to write a novel, what would happen if it never got published? There wouldn’t be an editor or boss looking over your shoulder, hounding you about deadlines or appealing to a larger audience. And there wouldn’t be people expecting a novel from you unless you bring it up yourself. You could work on a secret project for years with Zayne as your only witness and there would be no worrying about other people getting hype and losing interest when you take longer than expected. Sure, you wouldn’t get paid, but money wasn’t a concern with Zayne’s career, and you could always do a little freelance if you felt like it, or find another job that doesn’t involve writing, so you can keep it as a hobby all to yourself again.

You sigh, as though a huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders, and lean a bit heavier into his side. He welcomes it easily, adjusting his arm to wrap around your back so he can rub your arm. “I’ll put in my two weeks notice tomorrow,” you tell him. “Which means I still have to figure out what to write about for this assignment.”

“You’ll think of something,” he assures. “You can always write about that girl and her stolen dog.”

You chuckle. “Her parents will post up flyers about a missing dog, and an employee at the pound will see it. It’ll be a huge scandal. And just when she thinks she’ll have to give up the dog - which they’ve named Sir Butterton the Third - her parents will finally relent and adopt it.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, and he smiles down at you with those ever-calming hazel eyes of his. “See? You’ve already got a plot synopsis. The rest will come naturally.” He squeezes your hand, which has grown cold after spending so long in the cool breeze and autumn weather. “Now, we should get you home before you catch a cold.”

“You’re out here, too! You could catch a cold just as easily.”

“All the more reason to hurry back.” He stands first and helps you from the old bench. You’re not sure he even consciously thinks about it before doing up your jacket to keep the cold air from getting in. You don’t mind. It gives you a chance to admire the man you’ve chosen as your life partner. He gives you a questioning look. “What’s on your mind now?”

You smile and reach up to playfully adjust his scarf. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering who I should base the dad on in my story.”

His ears turn pink, but he shakes his head, taking your hand from his scarf and leading you back toward the car. “If that’s the case, I would recommend a different name for the dog in your story.”

“Oh? What should it be, then?”

“Aprotinin.”

“I’m not naming the dog after a drug!”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x City Girl Reader

No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. And then, tonight happens…

NSFW 18+ Eventual Smut, Porn with Plot, Romance, Drama, Clubbing, Dirty Dancing, Mentions of Alcohol, Slight Slow Burn, Hatemance, Jealousy, Bickering, Teasing, Flirting, Reader is a mean girl, Ghost is an asshole, but the chemistry's there, Slowly gets steamier as it goes, slight hints of Reader x Gaz, 'cause why not

Word Count: 4.2k

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Masterlist

A/N: Finally finished this (was super nervous to post this for some reason)! This was inspired after binge-watching a shit ton of Bad Girl's Club on Tubi. I just know Ghost and a City Girl wouldn't get along at first, but I love dynamics that look like they wouldn't work. Part two is where the smut is, but I like build-up and stuff, so I turned a one-shot smut piece into a two-parter. I hope you enjoy ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू)

"Ayy~" You rest your hands on your knees in a joyous fashion, readying yourself to start shaking your ass. "Let's get it bitch!"

Music blared on the club speakers, the crowd growing hyped as the sounds of Pink Panties from Baby Keem serenaded the drunken patrons all looking to have a good night.

That third daiquiri had caught up to you, your mind buzzing and your heart racing. The swell of the crowd dancing around you puts you in a euphoric trance. All you can comprehend is the warmth in the air, the taste of alcohol behind your teeth, and the way the beat makes your skin vibrate as you dance.

Your face expresses every bit of the drunken euphoria you were feeling, letting it bring your hands seductively down your body, pulling in any who dare come, if they're brave enough.

You and the rest of 141 came just at the perfect time; the club was just starting to get busy but it hadn't yet grown too packed. Chatter and laughter picked up and the music got better the more you drank. The vibe was just right…

…Almost.

Across from the dance floor, at the corner of the bar where he'd been standing all night, Ghost watches you dance, unamused, with dark eyes leering at you from afar.

He observes the way your hips sway to the music like it were his own, private video. All night he's been watching you, his gaze lingering just a little longer each time; though, it hadn't been any less unwelcoming.

If he watched any longer he might just excuse himself, so that he may relieve the tension that's built between you. Deep down he knew you knew that too. It's thus created a notable, stormy cloud over his head all night, one you undoubtedly took joy in seeing.

Your eyes play with him across the sea of dancing heads between you, taunting him, teasing him, and letting him know just how much better than him you thought you were. The same eyes he's grown accustomed to for a long time now.

Codename: Spice. He couldn't think of a more fitting name for such a hot-headed woman, seeing as "Bitch" wasn't acceptable. You joined the team maybe a year or so ago. Much too long for Ghost to have counted.

When Laswell initially brought you in, the entire Task Force was in an UPROAR. You'd been a well-decorated soldier, to say the least, however, what merits and awards you held almost paled in comparison to the rap sheet of complaints and discrepancies you possessed.

Fighting. Disobedience. Disorderly Conduct. Fraternization. Etcetera. Etcetera.

And as if that weren't enough, you were a complete and utter bitch as well. Especially to Ghost, who you've singled out in particular. If defending your country was your day job, then being the thorn in Ghost's side had become your newest evening hobby.

Any chance you had, you were picking on the man. Your comments teetered back and forth between being harsh and petty, and once you knew he didn't like you, you just doubled down on the behavior. And it didn't matter what approach the man took to this; he could ignore you, or he could get loud, but nothing deterred you.

It wasn't often that someone got under Ghost's skin; he always did model himself on control and discipline. With all the horrible people he's managed to meet in his lifetime (and not even being in his mid 30's yet either), naturally, it would take a lot to truly irritate the man. And by no means were you the worse person he's ever interacted with before either.

But you've always been more akin to that of a tick; any time you got a chance to get under his skin, you dug in, and you dug deep.

Ghost would applaud you for how intensive you were with your pettiness. Nearly as cold, ruthless, and calculated with that as you were with your enemies on the field. God forbid someone actually steps up to you, less they suffer a broken nose or a black eye. You were Queen B and you wanted everyone to know it.

Ghost, however, was less than interested in feeding into your silly little ego.

Even now, your eyes haven't left Ghost's since you started dancing again, time moving at a snail's pace in your gazes. Knowing that the sight of you pisses him off.

Right then, as you danced, some poor woman made an attempt at courting him as he sat alone, brooding to himself. You never were one to diss a girl's taste, you guess. Not out loud, at least.

This woman, wearing her ill-fitted skirt and tacky make-up, had been getting sloppy drunk with her friends in a corner for the last hour, eyeing Ghost from across the bar just as long. At some point, she thought it'd be a wise time to swoop in and make her move.

Ghost notices this because he's now felt a stranger's hand touch his arm. Had he not looked first to see who it was, he would have been seconds away from instinctually sending his elbow back to flex their hand from him, which would have definitely connected with the woman's face.

The woman practically jolts once she sees she's startled him, however, she attempts to cover it with a laugh. "Hi," she greets.

"Can I help you?" Ghost asks, though he couldn't sound any less interested.

"I was just over there with my friends and-"

"You should get back to them."

A state of shock whiplashes on her face before she huffs and stomps back over to her friends. Ghost didn't even watch as she left; he had more pressing matters to attend to.

You smirk at Ghost, seeing this from where you dance. The man makes it so easy to push his buttons, just look at him. He doesn't even look like he wants to be here tonight, more dressed like he was about to rob a bank than go out drinking with his mates.

Frankly, you're shocked he even showed up. Clubs seemed like the last place you'd catch him, and you were right. However, Gaz and Soap giving the lieutenant a hard time as of late finally pushed him into coming out with everyone. And of course, it had to be on the night you got to choose the spot too. You'd been sick of dive bars and small get-togethers, however, so you chose a club in a heartbeat, naysayers be damned.

"Hey Kyle~" You wave for Gaz, catching his eye in the crowd. He and Soap had both been drinking just as much as you since arriving, getting dragged off by every single woman within a five-foot radius of them.

You lost Soap fifteen minutes ago, and here Gaz was now, having been able to finally rid himself of his unwanted groupies. Good thing too; you need someone to dance on, and you wanted to give your lieutenant a show.

Gaz has already grooved his way over to you the second your eyes invited him over. Lord knows he's wanted a piece since you arrived, though you saved the real promiscuity for men outside your workplace; less messy that way. You'll gladly have them chase you though.

Once in reach, you bring your arms to his shoulders and wrap them loosely around his neck, smelling the Gin and Tonic on his breath and the citrus scent of his cologne, though it's since been mixed with an array of other colognes and perfumes. His hands find your sides, settling into your hips, with drunken smiles growing between you the more comfortable you grew.

What were once innocent brushes of the legs and hip twirling, soon devolves into something a little less PG. Before long you've both found your rhythm, swaying your hips along to the music and moving together as one unit.

You whip your body around, grinding your ass against Gaz, pressing yourself back roughly against him. You make sure he can hear you laugh at him after you've heard the little gasp he let out too. However, you can play with more than one person at a time, and the Sergeant hadn't been the only one you were playing with at the moment.

The whole time, you've kept your eyes locked on the lieutenant's from across the floor, a devilish smile forming. Had Soap not bumped into Ghost suddenly, who's to say how long Ghost would have spent watching you, his bourbon held sternly in his gloved hand.

"Ghost!" Soap bellows out, cheeks a rosy pink from his drink, and lips painted in a large grin. The man had certainly been attempting to give you a run for your money in terms of enjoying himself tonight. The smeared lipstick stains near the base of his neck only said as much. Both men and women tonight had been swooning over his accent and muscles since he stepped foot in the building. Ghost had already written the man off for the night altogether.

"Still standin' 'ere all by yer lonesome, L.T.?"

"Been the best seat in the house," Ghost says dryly.

Soap follows Ghost's gaze, until he's found you on the dance floor with your eyes closed and your head cocked back, Gaz's head buried in the crook of your neck. Immediately, he knows what's going on, having seen this before.

"Tsk. Tsk. What a she-devil," Soap shakes his head. "Poor lad."

"Should know better by now," Ghost comments. "Girls like that love bein' teases."

Oh, Soap knows already; he learned that the hard way the last time you all went out drinking and you sent him home with the deepest set of blue balls he's ever felt in his life. "Aye," he sighs.

"I've no idea what you lot see in 'er," Ghost says.

"Eh, she's not so bad once you get to know her," Soap shrugs. "You two are a lot more alike than you think."

"I doubt that," Ghost turned back around at the bar, settling in his seat and placing his drink back on the counter. Soap had been ready to join him, however, some tiny woman that's been attached to his hip all night returned (who also conveniently wore the same shade of lipstick as what was smeared on his neck), pulling his attention away. Before long, the lieutenant was alone once more.

You two are a lot more alike than you think.

Now that's a joke. Ghost can't imagine you've gone through even half of what he's been through. Still, it wasn't like you two have ever actually sat down and talked to one another before. It seems nigh impossible to.

Though it wasn't for a lack of trying on your end.

The presence of another human at Ghost's side brings his eyes drearily over, until they've begrudgingly fallen onto you. It seems you grew bored of dancing, and now decided to take your teasing to the source itself.

"Enjoy the show?" you ask him teasingly, knowing you'll most likely not receive a reply, which you don't. Ghost doesn't even fully face you, keeping his eyes pointed ahead of himself at the bar. He hadn't been looking to talk, and it's not like his reply would change anything you had to say. You did invite yourself over.

"You know, Manchester," You lean against the bar, looking up at the man, just close enough to hear him over the club music and smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. "Instead of starin' like a creep, why don't you actually take that stick out your ass and come dance."

Now you're just taking the piss. Ghost finally gives you a look, though he wishes he hadn't. Up close, he's seeing this skimpy little, lowcut tight dress you've got on, with your fishnet stockings and heels. The black choker around your neck was simple, and just begging for someone to tug it off you, and the lipgloss you wore looked like it tasted sweet on your tongue.

Years of training and experience are everything it takes to keep his eyes from dropping any lower than your collarbone. Just in his peripherals, Ghost can see how bouncy and voluptuous they sat in your dress.

You got this cocky look on your face now. "I'll dance with you."

Ghost scoffs. "Not a chance."

"Aw, I get it," you say sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to embarrass myself out there either."

"This place can only handle so much of that with you already out there."

This conversation felt as old as time between you two. If it wasn't you being catty and mean, then it was Ghost being aloof and guarded. While you knew he had been implying your little performance on the dance floor earlier, you were as quick with your tongue as your lieutenant.

And you can't lie, you'd been itching for some good banter all night. You'll take it from anyone, even from the likes of Ghost.

"Please," you laugh. "As if your big ass could actually move out there. I bet you can't even do the two-step."

"I'm sure you'd wanna know," Ghost says.

You reach over, and by your own boundless curiosity, take his drink, inviting yourself to a sip. The bourbon burns your throat as you swallow, your nose scrunching. You smile as you see Ghost's gaze razor focus on your lips pressing to the cool glass of his drink, taking a small sip and letting your tongue chase its remnants over your bottom lip. It's just the way he does so, so unabashedly, that you can't help but giggle at.

"I already know everything I need to, honey."

Ghost turns his body to fully face you now, his massive height over you only now becoming apparent by the shadow it casts. It's intimidated most of the women at the club tonight, whenever Ghost wouldn't just do it himself. No such thing went on with you, however.

He's been sitting here by himself all night, and as much as he could list a plethora of others he'd prefer to be standing here with at the moment, he had you. If you'd use him for your own uncaring amusement, then he'll do the same, since you want to bring that side out of him so badly.

"And what's that?" he asks.

"That you're boring as fuck and have a stick up your ass," you say bluntly. Of course, Ghost didn't expect any less from you. You do this sober, just with less pep to your speech, unlike now. "Though I'm sure you're already aware of that."

"How original," Ghost says dryly. "It take you long to think that one up?"

"I only tell it like I see it."

"Wha' then," Ghost's gaze turns stone cold, doing all it can not to give you a way in. "Gaz wasn't enough? Now you've come to make yourself easy pickin's for the next sorry lad lookin' for an easy lay?"

"Ooo, feisty." You lean in now, resting your hand on the bar counter so you could prop yourself up, giving yourself what little height you can against your unmoving opponent.

"I wouldn't fuck you if you paid me," you say.

"I wouldn't fuck you for charity."

"I wouldn't fuck you if my life depended on it," you shoot back. "As if you could even handle me, Manchester."

"What's there to handle?" he taunts. "You're nothin' but talk. You bark like a bitch and puff your chest, but it's all show. Just a way to make yourself feel big. No surprise you make yourself the local slag; any lad with some sense surely wouldn't bother."

Oh, that comment strikes a nerve; you feel your eyebrow twitch and your blood begin to simmer the second he closes his stupid, British mouth.

"Who're you callin' a bitch and a slag?" You step up now like there's a problem now. "How about you come back with some new material when you can actually talk to me without that little safety blanket on your face, Manchester. It's easy to talk shit when you've got something to hide behind. And you call me unoriginal."

You take his drink and pour it out on the counter now, watching it spill over the surface and drip onto the floor. When you meet his gaze again, if looks could kill, you'd both be dead. You just wasted a good cup of fucking bourbon.

"Do somethin' about it," you taunt him.

He steps forward, and for a small second, you think the man might actually do something. However, it had merely been an intimidation tactic, a warning. He stops just a few inches shy of you, keeping his strong arms crossed over his chest.

Ghost would love to, oh, believe him. It's taking all of him not to say something really foul to you and truly ruin the whole night for everyone. And you don't stop at the drink either.

You step even closer now, keeping your head cocked back and your eyes on him. You're close enough now to feel the body heat bouncing off from him, vibrating the more irritated he grew.

"Do something," you say again. "You just gonna let some slag pour your drink out like that?"

You raise your hand up as though you're about to smack him, and that's what finally gets him to move. Ghost catches your tiny wrist in his hand, his grip tight as he holds you there.

"What the fuck-" You grimace at first, your fight-or-flight instincts telling you to try and tug your hand out of his grip and use your other to sock him straight. However, something differently entirely occurs in you suddenly.

You take a moment to really feel his hand on your wrist, how the slightest adjustment of his thumb made a chill trickle up your arm, and that he was the closest he's ever stood next to you outside of work. The man might irritate you, and he was an asshole, but Goddamn did he have an inviting pair of hands and some magnetic eyes on him. Eyes that seemed just as curious to outline all the makings of your figure.

You kind of liked it.

He must like it too, judging from how he hasn't made any attempts at letting go. But there had been a million different things running through his mind right now, all of which made him question himself.

He thought about all the ways he could overpower you right now; you gab on like you're big, and there were so many times he's just wanted to remind you of your size. Small enough to be bound and at his mercy if he so pleased. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but the thought sounded intriguing.

Your arm settles in his strong grip, your eyelids lowering as you look his masked face up and down, trying to observe his dark eyes in the dim lights. They look to you, trying to guess your next move, though even you couldn't be sure.

You take your other hand and you place it on his chest, just to see if you can. All this time you've known him, you've never actually done so before. You feel your fingers rest against him, and even beneath the fabric of his hoodie, you feel his heart racing.

The club music finally dies down, preparing to switch to its next song. With maybe just a few inches of space between you, it feels as though it's only the two of you in this entire room at this moment.

But just then, you're interrupted. Soap wasn't too far away and must have started picking up on the vibe's shifting, because he couldn't cut between the two of you fast enough.

"Alright," he steps between you two, a drunken smile still on his face. "That'll do you two."

His presence does little to take your eyes off each other, merely looking through the Sergeant, still trying to see if either one of you would say something else. As expected, it's you who does first.

"We were just about to dance," you look over at Ghost with a playful smile. "Isn't that right, Manchester?"

Ghost looks down at you. He almost wants to say no. However, he found himself curious suddenly to see where you might take things. He hadn't felt quite done with you yet, himself.

"That's right."

Soap looks flabbergasted by this. "Yer gonna dance, L.T.?"

"We'll try not to make too much of a scene," you tease.

You take hold of Ghost's hand, feeling his grip tense in your grasp, as you pulled him out onto the dance floor. Woman by Doja Cat just started and you were ready to rock this man's world.

Even with everything going on around, heads turn as you both pass by, noticing the tall, masked figure making his way onto the dance floor with this overly enthusiastic party girl who looks nothing like his type.

You find a spot just on the edge of the crowd, where the lights were low and your team could not see you. Once there, you watch Ghost stand awkwardly, waiting for you to start moving first. It's not like you needed him to do much anyway.

You ease into your dance, beginning with light footwork and hip twirling, letting the music guide its rhythm through your legs. Ghost did an odd shuffle to start, not doing much beyond moving his feet. Once he grew more comfortable, however, you learned that he could in fact do the two-step... If you sucked all the atmosphere out of it at least.

The music picks up, and you bring your hands up to his muscular shoulders, gently resting them there similarly to how you did with Gaz earlier. Only unlike the Sergeant, Ghost seemed reluctant to fully give in to your charms. He wouldn't even bring himself to touch you, just letting you use him like a pole.

You bring your head in close, shouting over the music so that he can hear you, "You're an asshole, you know."

Ghost rolls his eyes. "You're a bitch."

Growing impatient, you boldly take his hands and place them on your hips for him, feeling your skin tingle as his fingers settle against your hipbones. The hesitancy subsides once you start guiding him along with you slowly, easing him into the high tempo of the music.

"And proud of it."

You turn around and press yourself to the lieutenant, feeling your ass brush against his jeans and the grunt that leaves his chest. All he's left with now is the smell of the shampoo you'd used in your hair and the shape of your bottom against his groin. You tell him, "I'm not here to impress you."

He leans in, until you've felt his masked lips brush against the shell of your ear. His voice all but rumbles through you, "And I'm not here to entertain you."

"Aren't you?" You bend over, bringing your hands to your ankles and seductively sliding them back up your legs, and making sure each time you made your ass shake that he could feel it even through his jeans. You'd give anything to see his face right now. "Say what you want," you tease. "I don't give a fuck."

This time he doesn't shy away from letting his hands slide alongside you, stopping just at your waist so that you can still move yourself freely against him. "Yeah, you do," he all but says in a seductive growl. "Why else are we here now?"

You tilt your head back and look up to find Ghost's eyes leering down at you, half-lidded. You watch him slowly start to lose himself, his mind chasing after that brief feeling of arousal you shot through him each time you pressed yourself to him.

"I don't know," you take hold of Ghost's hands again, only this time when you rest them back at your hips, you keep your hands there, holding them. "But it takes two to dance, Manchester."

"Let's dance then."

Once the words subsided, and the club music drowned out any and everything else on the dance floor, the only thing that could be felt was the ecstasy of Ghost's body pressed so close to yours. His large hands explore your small form smoothly, letting you slide your own hands up his arms, feeling his warmth of him. He molds into your movements easily, eyes never leaving yours, with battered breaths shared between you.

Your hands stretch above your head as your bottom hugs your black little dress tightly. The fabric stretches each time you drop your ass to give it another spin, lights bouncing off you both in a mesh of glittery purples and dark blues.

Every time they do you've felt you've seen a new side of Ghost. A side of him that felt hungry for something no good for him. Though he would be in good company; there wasn't a good man left in him to spare if you kept on him like you have been all night, both in body and tongue.

Had the song not come to an end, who's to say what parts of him you would have ground on next, or what parts of your body his hands would find themselves rhythmically groping.

You turn to the lieutenant, out of breath as he is. Of course, you had been moving your body much more than he. You suppose he can save that energy for later.

"You've got any smokes on you?" you ask him, though you both know where questions like that'll get you.

"Left 'em in my car."

"Why don't you give me one?"

Part Two

[gabessquishytum]

Question for today -- can you go out for a blind date, then walk away inadvertently dating a mobster?

Hob did not want to go on this blind date, but his friends keep insisting that be get back out there after his most recent heart break. So here Hob is, sitting in this atmospheric Italian restaurant, waiting for whichever hedge fund guy Joanna set him up with (best hob can hope is Joanna hasn't fucked this guy, like the last 2. No to Constantine castoffs....🤢)

Douche Dude is late (or not coming), so to pass the time, Hob chats up the handsome man next to him at the bar,,regaling him with stories of his students and past blind dates. Hob is actually chuffed when he gets the obviously taciturn man to smile (it's a small smile, but it's there and true.). Hob could swear he knows the man from somewhere, he just can't remember where.

When it becomes obvious that his date isn't coming, Hob prepares to go home, a little sadly (even if the guy was a knob, no one likes to be stood up.). Before he can even get his coat on, Hob's bar friend asks if he wants to have dinner.

Hob is charmed by his quiet nature (and looks) and his joke about how it's a good thing his blind date didn't show up, and how now he doesn't have to have the guy killed. 🙄 🤭�� Hob laughs and figures he just doesn't know his new friend well enough to get his sardonic "joke" expression.

Dinner was fun - Dream, as he introduced himself, didn't really like his job and considered himself more of an artist, but the business was a family thing. What can you do?! And things didn't get weird until the end, when (what had to be well after the restaurant should have closed and by a time that Hob & Dream should have been chased out by), Dream got up from his seat and all the rest of the people, scattered at all the other tables, got up as well.

Dream didn't even seem to notice, and when Hob goggled at him, Dream waved it off with a "pay them no mind," and helped Hob with his coat. Then he asked Hob out for another date. Even with the 20 guys flanking him now, Hob liked Dream and said yes to a 2nd date.

It isn't until Hob is almost in his bed that he realizes he just made a date with the most wanted crime boss in the state.

Ah, I love Hob being a cute lil himbo and not realising what's happening until later. Of course there's so much drama that could happen in this relationship, but also so much comedy potential.

Like Dream being introduced to Jo and Hob’s other friends. He's trying very hard to be normal (the bodyguards have been told to "blend in"... they're trying their best, okay). Answering questions like "Yes I am a very normal citizen doing normal things". Jo pulls Hob aside and is like "your boyfriend is a mobster, isn't he?" And Hob is kind of mad that Jo worked it out way quicker than he did.

And Dream starts accompanying Hob to social occasions at his job. Weird little faculty parties and shows that the theatre kids are putting on for charity. Dream obviously sticks out like a sore thumb but everyone is gushing about Hob’s "nice young man". So polite! And he made such a generous donation!

Hob finds it both lovely and hilarious. He knows that Dream is dangerous and has probably done terrible things, buuuut. He's pretty cute, isn't he? And good with kids. Hob is kind of smitten with him.

Which is good. Because Dream is not prepared to let his charming civilian boyfriend go without a fight <3

[deadlysoupy]

complete (for now!) character sheets of my blorbo (huge thanks to @arcandoria your contribution to the fandom is incredible bless)

explanations under the cut (there's a lot bc i'm a yapper) (spoilers!)

Bellara: Rook and Bellara hit it off pretty much since the beginning. Rook loves to tinker, and Bellara's brain is always full of ideas, so they hang out a lot together just taking stuff apart and putting them together. despite Urchin not being a mage, he has basically grown up with mages and seen magic a lot in Tevinter, so i think he'd know a little bit. they bounce off each other really well, and when Cyrian comes back and she hits a low point, he supports her with a joke or lets her rant. neither he nor she will probably ever say it out loud, since it's a sensitive topic for both, but they consider each other siblings or cousins at least

Davrin: complete opposite of Bellara, Rook and Davrin got off on the wrong foot and couldn't get up lmao. Davrin had a problem with how Urchin handles things, he considers the Lords to be unethical and rude bastards, and how Urchin rushes into battle or does careless things. Urchin also hated how heroic Davrin seemed to pose as, he's pretty much jealous of his dalish upbringing, and his history with the Grey Wardens. they even got into a fight at some point (Urchin started it, by the way). but after that, they reach an understanding that turns into deep respect for what each of them went through, and to say that Rook would miss Davrin as his unbiased opinion and who wouldn't be afraid to challenge him is to say nothing

Emmrich: at first they got along great. the Lords taught Urchin to be respectful to spirits, and he's fascinated by death and the life beyond it. but Emmrich is a very "touchy-feely", inquisitive and curious person, which Urchin is a complete opposite of. still can't get out of my head the graveyard scene when Emmrich confides and talks about his parents, and Rook, trying to react in his usual non-emotional way, makes a joke, to which Emmrich deeply disapproves and Urchin has to apologize. that's the gist of their relationship, to be honest, but it does become better after a while. his experience in life helps Urchin a lot, and he likes listening to Emmrich talk about magic

Harding: good friends who goof around a lot! i don't have much to say about them to be honest, but i think there's potential here for so many goofs and gaffs and getting in jail. reminiscent of that one "mayhem!" line Harding has in a dlc of Inquisition, i think she'd be down to cause some chaos in Minrathous or something. Urchin also understands her anger, and he's remorseful at their revelation that the Titans died because of the elves. all in all, they're on very good terms

Lucanis: hooo boy. where do i even start and how do i make this as short as possible. there's always been an understanding between these two, even beyond romance, that was just a cherry on top. Lucanis had a lot going on when he came into the story, so Urchin gave him space and support when he needed it, because he knows how something that traumatic can hurt, and that sometimes you just don't want to talk about it. it's hard for them both to express feelings, and Lucanis is a guy of action rather than words, so he cooks, gives little gifts, gestures, and Rook in turn gives him compliments, jokes with him, takes him out on dates etc because he's more of a words guy. i don't know i could make a separate post about their specific romance that i've built in my head, give me an ask if you want it i denno

Neve: his emotionally stunted wife. you probably noticed how their bars are just insanely covered with colours, and that's because of the whole "Minrathous or Treviso" thing. i milk so much drama out of that choice because it's really good! beside the obvious, Rook couldn't really save Minrathous because of his past with slavery, but he still feels so bad about it because of Neve's love for it. and i don't think she can ever forgive him, actually, but she tries moving past it. the fact that they both had crushes on each other that turned south is kinda funny to me, because they're like two sides of the same coin! she's so afraid to get close to other people, she's snarky and doesn't turn down a good joke, her sense of style is incredible (i imagine them exchanging Tevinter fashion tips). they're still close even after the game, and grow closer after it, and Rook, Neve and Lucanis become a polycule. traumacule. do you see the vision

Taash: saved the best for last i guess because Urchin and Taash are like two siblings who hate each other. well, not exactly hate. i really liked how their relationship began, when Taash tells Rook how the Lords aren't thieves, and he's like "but we stole shit! literally!" and i think there's a really interesting contrast here. Taash was taught by their mother about cultural appropriation and respect, while Rook was Isabela's apprentice. Isabela's! there's no question he doesn't have almost any morals at all. so Taash thinks Rook's a jerk, but Urchin doesn't mind it much. after that, they bond over their gender issues, and since Urchin found his identity he shares his experience with them. in turn, Taash teaches him about dragons. they're also both from mixed cultures, so they have this solidarity over their messy lives. they're neat i like them

whoever read until the end. holy shit i want to kiss you

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Heyy Nausicaa!!

I love all of your fics, you're an amazing writer!

So, could you do a fic about mop era James hetfield and the reader? They r best friends and the reader gets a bf and James doesn't like him bc he's toxic but the reader doens't see him as toxic. They get in a fight outside the bar she told James about her bf and James is drunk telling the reader how he could be a better bf than her current bf is. The fight ends when the reader starts walking to her bf's house and James runs to her bc he doens't want her to go there. Soo they walk to james' apartment. At the apartment James agrees to sleep on the couch so the reader coul sleep in his room. They go to sleep but James can't sleep so he sneaks in his bedroom where the reader is sleeping and lays next to her and cuddles her. The next morning they wake up in each others arms and the reader finally comes to her senses about her current bf that he's toxic. Then she breaks up with him over the phone. James is real happy and then they cuddle some more and then... Suprise suprise they get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 😏🤭

Thank you so much, I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: mature themes, sexual content, emotional intensity, toxic relationship,

Breaking Through

James Hetfield had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We’d been through it all together—the wild nights, the heavy conversations, the laughter, and even the silence that spoke louder than words. Our friendship had always been easy, natural, and unspoken in a way that felt comfortable. We didn’t need to say it, but we both knew we’d always have each other’s backs.

And then there was him. My boyfriend.

It started innocently enough, just a guy who caught my attention. At first, he seemed perfect—charming, funny, easygoing. We fit together, or so I thought. But James hated him. And that wasn’t something I was used to. James wasn’t a guy who hated easily. If anything, he gave people the benefit of the doubt. But not this guy. And at first, I didn’t get it. I thought he was just being overprotective. But the more I ignored his warnings, the more I started to feel it in my gut—something wasn’t right.

I should’ve listened to him.

Tonight, the tension had reached a breaking point. I found myself outside a bar, feeling a little too buzzed from the drinks I’d had, standing in front of James, ready to tell him everything about the latest drama in my relationship. I thought I could keep it casual, tell him I was fine, but James had other plans.

We stood under the glow of the streetlight, the night air crisp against my skin. James leaned against the brick wall of the bar, cigarette in hand, but he wasn’t smoking. He was just looking at me with those blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

“Hey,” I said, trying to break the silence.

“Hey,” he replied, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. His gaze didn’t leave me. “What’s going on? You look... off.”

I shrugged, playing it off. “Just the usual stuff. My boyfriend’s being weird, but you know, it’s fine.”

James pushed off the wall, stepping closer. “You’re not fine, Y/N. I can see it. You’re not fine.”

I froze. There it was again—his ability to see straight through me. He always had it, but tonight, it hit differently.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to mask the nerves in my voice.

“Don’t lie to me,” James said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m your friend. I know when something’s wrong.” He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re with him, but you’re not happy. Why are you staying in something that’s pulling you down?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out. How could I explain it to him? How could I tell him that I didn’t want to face the truth? That maybe, just maybe, he was right?

“Y/N,” James continued, stepping closer again, his voice lower now, “You deserve better than this guy. He doesn’t care about you the way you think he does. I can see it, and you can too, if you’d just let yourself.”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “You don’t know him like I do, James. He’s not perfect, but he’s mine.”

James took a sharp breath. His expression was tight now, frustrated. “That’s the problem, Y/N. He’s dragging you down. And you deserve better than this. I care about you more than he ever will, and I’m not gonna sit here and watch you get hurt.”

His words landed like a slap, but they weren’t angry—just raw. And for the first time, I realized just how much he really meant it. This wasn’t about him wanting me for himself—this was about him wanting me to be happy, wanting me to be free from something that was suffocating me.

I stepped back, the words on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. My heart pounded, the weight of his words pressing down on me.

“You know I’m right,” James said quietly. “I could be a better boyfriend to you than he ever could.”

My breath caught. Was he serious? He had always been there for me—sure, he’d always been my friend—but this was different. This was… something else.

“James…” My voice faltered. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

But James shook his head, a frustrated, pained expression crossing his face. “I’m not drunk, Y/N. I’m not. I’m just telling you what I see. And what I see is you settling for someone who doesn’t care about you the way I do.”

I felt a sharp sting in my chest, my mind reeling. I had no idea how to respond, so instead of saying anything, I just turned away. The cold night air hit my face as I started walking, desperate to get away from the conversation, away from everything.

But James wasn’t having it. “Where are you going?” he called after me, his voice urgent.

I didn’t answer, just kept walking in the direction of my boyfriend’s house.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he said, his footsteps loud behind me. “Don’t go there. Please.”

I felt my frustration rise. “I’m fine, James. I’m going to him. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he said, voice firm. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anything, and I won’t just stand by and watch you walk into a situation that’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go there.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to process the weight of his words. Everything inside me wanted to keep going, to ignore what he was saying, but a part of me was scared. Scared of what I was doing, scared of what James was saying.

“Please,” he begged, his voice breaking a little. “Don’t go there. Please.”

I stopped walking, my body trembling with the weight of everything. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared. Scared of the relationship I was in, scared of how tangled I had gotten in something that wasn’t good for me.

I turned around slowly, looking at James. He was standing a few feet behind me, his hands clenched at his sides, his expression softening. For the first time in a long time, I saw it. The care, the love, the pure concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I won’t go.”

James exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. Without a word, he started walking toward me. “I’ll take you back to my place. We’ll talk it through. I won’t let you go through this alone.”

When we reached his apartment, James didn’t push. He just opened the door and let me step inside. The familiarity of the space, the comfort of it, felt strange in the best way. I was used to this place, but tonight, it felt different.

“You can sleep in my room,” James said, gesturing toward the door. “I’ll take the couch. I won’t push you to talk if you don’t want to.”

I nodded, too emotionally drained to protest. I needed space, but I also needed comfort. I slipped into his room, wrapping myself in the warmth of his bed, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Eventually, I felt the bed shift. A warmth spread beside me, and I froze. I looked over my shoulder, and there he was—James, his face relaxed as he laid down beside me, his arm gently around my waist.

I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to. It felt right. It felt safe. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.

I closed my eyes and let myself rest, my mind swirling with everything that had happened, but somehow feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the window. I turned over slowly, and there he was—James, still holding me close, his arm wrapped around me protectively. For a moment, I just lay there, taking in the peacefulness of the moment.

I didn’t know how to put it into words, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. My relationship had been toxic. I had known about it for a while, but I hadn’t wanted to face it. Now, with James here, so close, so real, I finally understood.

I reached for the phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number.

When he answered, I didn’t hesitate. “It’s over,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m done.”

 The phone call had ended, but the weight of my past relationship still hung in the air like a fog. I felt lighter, yes, but also raw—exposed in a way I hadn’t been before. And there James was, standing close, his gaze never leaving mine. The intensity in his eyes seemed to say everything, everything I hadn’t been able to put into words. At that moment, I didn’t need words.

His arms pulled me close, his chest rising and falling against mine as he held me tightly. His warmth was intoxicating, grounding me. And with every breath I took, I felt a part of me slip away—the burdens, the doubts. But what remained? That unmistakable pull between us.

“You don’t have to carry that anymore, Y/N,” James murmured into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers trailed gently down my back, soothing and steady.

I nodded, the words a comfort, even though they didn’t fully capture everything I was feeling. The relief was there, but there was also something else—a deep, almost dizzying awareness of him. The way his body felt against mine, the heat that seemed to radiate from him, pulling me in closer with every passing second.

And then, without thinking, I tilted my head up, closing the distance between us, and kissed him.

It started slow, tentative, as if we were both testing the waters. His lips were soft, but there was an urgency behind them, a hunger that matched mine. I felt myself melting into him, responding with equal intensity. His hands found their way to my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My body pressed flush against his, and I could feel every inch of him, the warmth of his skin, the solidness of his muscles. It sent a shock of electricity through me.

When we pulled back, James stood before me, his eyes locked on mine, a question lingering in his gaze.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he says, his voice low, almost hesitant, as if he’s giving me room to decide.

I smile, my heart racing a little faster with the closeness between us. “You’re not,” I reply softly, taking a step toward him. My fingers hover over the collar of his shirt, and I slowly unbutton the first one, the motion deliberate. Each button undone feels like the quiet shedding of a barrier between us, a promise that we’re both ready for this.

His eyes follow my hands as I slowly remove his shirt, the fabric sliding off his shoulders and falling to the floor. There’s a moment where we just stand there, looking at each other, as if taking in the enormity of what’s happening.

I reach for the hem of my own shirt, pulling it off slowly, the cool air against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel his gaze on me, warm and searching, but there’s no judgment. Just a deep, unspoken understanding between us.

James steps closer, his hand brushing against my bare skin as he tugs gently at the waistband of my jeans. He pauses for a moment, looking at me, asking for permission with just the look in his eyes. I nod, my hands moving to help him, pushing the jeans down over my hips.

The sound of fabric hitting the floor fills the room, and for a moment, there’s nothing else but the warmth of his body just inches away, the air heavy with anticipation. His hands move to my back, slowly undoing the clasp of my bra, his fingers light but sure. I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach, but they quickly settle as he brushes the straps off my shoulders. We’re moving slowly, methodically, as if neither of us wants to rush this moment.

I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart under my fingertips as I trace the lines of his body. I can feel the heat between us, the way our bodies naturally gravitate toward one another. The last of his clothes fall to the floor, and we’re both standing there, exposed to one another, the air thick with something deeper than just desire.

He pulls me close, his lips finding mine in a soft kiss, a slow exploration that speaks more than words ever could. I press closer, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles shift as he moves.

Slowly, I guide him toward the bed, crawling beneath the soft covers, my heart racing as I feel the weight of him beside me. He follows, his body pressing against mine in the most comforting way. The warmth of his skin against mine feels like the world stopping, like everything has led to this moment.

 The room is warm, the air thick with the heat of our bodies pressed together. James hovers just above me, his chest rising and falling quickly, and I can feel his presence in every part of me. His body against mine is a perfect weight, pressing me into the soft sheets, and I can’t help but respond to every tiny shift of his.

His gaze locks with mine, dark and intense, and his lips are just inches from my neck. There’s a brief pause as he takes in the moment, making sure I’m comfortable, his fingers brushing over my skin as he adjusts himself, moving just a little closer. His breath falters, and I feel the subtle tension in him.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he shifts—his body fitting against mine, his breath hot against my skin as he thrusts, just enough to send a wave of heat through me. The feeling is intense, unexpected, and before I can even catch my breath, a soft moan escapes my lips, my body reacting to him instinctively.

James freezes for a split second, his breath shaky, eyes searching mine. His hands move to my waist, guiding me gently as he shifts again, adjusting himself to settle into a rhythm that feels even better, deeper. He looks down at me, and I can see the flicker of desire in his eyes, the way he’s trying to hold back, but can’t help but let his body respond to mine.

“You okay?” His voice is strained, barely above a whisper, and I feel the weight of his concern, the tenderness in his touch.

I nod, my voice barely audible, “Yes…” My fingers dig into his shoulders as I pull him closer, urging him to keep going, to keep moving.

James moves again, this time just a little deeper, his breath coming quicker as he adjusts, finding that perfect place where we’re both completely connected. My body reacts, my muscles tightening as I gasp softly, a quiet moan escaping my lips at the sensation.

His breathing becomes faster, more ragged, and I can feel him trembling slightly as he moves again, his hips shifting in perfect rhythm with mine. Every motion, every touch feels like it’s pulling us deeper, and I feel every inch of him, the way his body presses into mine, the way his hands hold me gently yet firmly.

I let out another soft moan, louder this time, unable to hold it back. My body arches up to meet him, my fingers digging into his back as he moves in a slow, deliberate rhythm, deepening the connection between us with each shift. His breath is hot against my neck, his chest pressing against mine, and the sensation is overwhelming, making my heart race even faster.

His voice is low, strained as he leans in, brushing his lips across my jawline. “You feel so good,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire, and I feel a jolt of warmth race through me at the sound of it.

I pull him closer, my hands tangling in his hair, as my body responds to him with every slow, deep thrust. The pressure inside me builds, every shift of his body sending waves of pleasure through me. And with each movement, I can hear the soft gasps and moans slipping from my lips, the sound of our breathing quickening as we move together in perfect sync.

I can feel him tremble slightly as he adjusts again, his movements becoming more deliberate, more urgent. He shifts again, deeper, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes me, my voice breaking slightly as my body reacts to him, the intensity building between us.

“James…” I gasp, barely able to get his name out, and my hands tighten around him as the tension inside me becomes almost unbearable. The way he moves, the way he adjusts to match me, brings us closer, and I feel myself getting closer to the edge with each thrust, each movement.

And then, as the pressure inside me reaches its peak, I let out a soft cry, my body shuddering as I reach that moment, that release. James follows closely behind, his breath shaky as he moves with me, his hands gentle on my skin, holding me close as we both come undone.

We stay like that for a moment, breathing heavily, our bodies still connected, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. His forehead rests against mine, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, a steady reminder that we’re both here, together.

He brushes his lips over my forehead, a tender, gentle kiss. “Are you okay?” he asks again, his voice soft, almost a whisper now.

I smile softly, my fingers tracing the lines of his back as I nod, my voice breathless. “Perfect.”

James pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me as we lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath. The world outside seems so far away now, and all that matters is the gentle rise and fall of our chests, the warmth of his body next to mine, and the quiet peace we’ve found in each other.

But then, just as the last remnants of the moment linger between us, James lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching mine with a new intensity. His thumb gently strokes my cheek, and his voice drops to a hushed whisper.

“You’re mine, Y/n,” he says softly, the words full of promise, raw with emotion. “And I won’t ever let anyone harm you. Not now, not ever. You’re safe with me.”

His lips meet mine in a slow, lingering kiss—full of tenderness, full of everything he’s just spoken. And in that kiss, I feel the truth of his words, the depth of his emotions, and a quiet certainty that nothing could ever take this from us.

As the kiss ends, I whisper softly, my voice full of gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie…”

He smiles against my lips, the warmth of it reaching all the way to my heart. His hand rests on my cheek for a moment, then moves to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Slowly, he lowers his head, resting it on my chest, his body curling into mine.

I run my fingers through his hair, gently stroking it, savoring the quiet peace between us. The sound of his breathing slows, becoming steady and calm as I hold him close, and for a moment, the world feels perfectly still, just us—together.