#i did 15 minutes of work before i crashed

[katherine-fisk]

// Would anyone like to do my job today so I can get some rest? Being dehydrated on top of sick is not helping.

[captainfantasticalright]

In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:

It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.

Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.

Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.

Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).

But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.

Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **

On collaborating together:

Here is a video of Sir Terry saying why he chose to collaborate with Neil, another video talking about the technical difficulties of writing a book when the two of them where miles apart ,and some pages from Interzone Magazine Issue 207 published December 2006:

An Interview with Sir Terry Pratchett and his works- and Neil Gaiman, where he shortly addresses the process of writing Good Omens.

Terry shortly mentions,

“Neil doesn't rule out another book with me and he was good to write with...yep, it could happen. With anyone else? I don't know, but probably not.?”

Neil says,

"Terry took that initial 5,000 words of mine and ran it through the computer (because I’d lost the files in a computer crash) and made it the first 10,000 words, and it was definitely Good Omens at that point. Neither one thing nor the other, but a third thing.”

"I think Terry could do a very good impersonation of me if he needed to, and I could do a very good impersonation of him; so we knew the area of the Venn diagram in which we were working. But mostly the book found its own voice very quickly. It helped that we were both scarred by the William books when we were kids...”

And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).

More about the writing process:

Terry took the first 5,000 words and typed them into his word processor, and by the time he had finished they were the first 10,000 words. Terry had borrowed all the things about me that he thought were amusing, like my tendency back then to wear sunglasses even when it wasn't sunny, and given them, along with a vintage Bentley, to Crawleigh, who had now become Crowley. The Satanic Nurses were Satanic Nuns.

The book was under way.

We wrote the first draft in about nine weeks. Nine weeks of gloriously long phone calls, in which we would read each other what we'd written, and try to make the other one laugh. We'd plot, delightedly, and then hurry off the phone, determined to get to the next good bit before the other one could. We'd rewrite each other, footnote each other's pages, sometimes even footnote each other's footnotes. We would throw characters in, hand them off when we got stuck. We finished the book and decided we would only tell people a little about the writing process - we would tell them that Agnes Nutter was Terry's, and the Four Horsemen (and the Other Four Motorcyclists) were mine.

From the introduction to William the Antichrist:

“In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.

It felt like a story with legs.

Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”

William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***

“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.

Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.

But the spirit of Just William was never far away.

The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.

If you want to read more details about William The Antichrist, here are some slides I made.

Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)

 Then I was reading The Jew of Malta by Kit Marlowe, and it has a bit where the three (cartoonishly evil) Jews compare notes on all the well-poisoning and suchlike they’d done that day, and as a Jew who never quite gets his act together, it occurred to me that if I were the third Jew I’d just be apologizing for having failed to poison a well… And suddenly I had the opening of a book. It would be called William the Antichrist. And it would begin with three Demons in a graveyard… (x).

“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.” -Neil Gaiman

"Neil and I had known each other since early 1985. Doing it was our idea, not a publisher's deal." "I think this is an honest account of the process of writing Good Omens. It was fairly easy to keep track of because of the way we sent discs to one another, and because I was Keeper of the Official Master Copy I can say that I wrote a bit over two thirds of Good Omens. However, we were on the phone to each other every day, at least once. If you have an idea during a brainstorming session with another guy, whose idea is it? One guy goes and writes 2,000 words after thirty minutes on the phone, what exactly is the process that's happening? I did most of the physical writing because: 1) I had to. Neil had to keep Sandman going -- I could take time off from the DW; 2) One person has to be overall editor, and do all the stitching and filling and slicing and, as I've said before, it was me by agreement -- if it had been a graphic novel, it would have been Neil taking the chair for exactly the same reasons it was me for a novel; 3) I'm a selfish bastard and tried to write ahead to get to the good bits before Neil. Initially, I did most of Adam and the Them and Neil did most of the Four Horsemen, and everything else kind of got done by whoever -- by the end, large sections were being done by a composite creature called Terryandneil, whoever was actually hitting the keys. By agreement, I am allowed to say that Agnes Nutter, her life and death, was completely and utterly mine. And Neil proudly claims responsibility for the maggots. Neil's had a major influence on the opening scenes, me on the ending. In the end, it was this book done by two guys, who shared the money equally and did it for fun and wouldn't do it again for a big clock." "Yes, the maggot reversal was by me, with a gun to Neil's head (although he understood the reasons, it's just that he likes maggots). There couldn't be blood on Adam's hands, even blood spilled by third parties. No-one should die because he was alive." -("Terry Pratchett : His World”)

(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).

Another wonderful insight with Rob Wilkins in "The Worlds of Terry Pratchett".

*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.

** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.

***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.

[phefics]

𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐦

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: fred weasley x reader x george weasley 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed. 

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

[junrenjun]

11:21 AM

lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

You can’t help but laugh as you take in your husband’s appearance. A larger version of your son’s football jersey sits loosely on his frame. Matching purple eye black runs under his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to complain though because he looks good. “Isn’t this a little much for peewee football?” you ask him jokingly, running your finger just under the line on his cheek. 

“Absolutely not,” he responds before planting a wet kiss to the top of your forehead. “Mark and Jeno are wearing the same thing,” he tells you with a proud smile on his face. 

You roll your eyes at his antics. “I’m sure their wives are thrilled about that,” you joke, reaching out to straighten the chains that hang around his neck. “Did you get all dressed up for me or for Melissa?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

Donghyuck groans at the mention of the team mom of his son’s football team. The woman really needs to learn to keep her hands to herself. She may be single but he sure as hell is not. “Only you baby,” he says, wrapping his hand around your wrist to halt your movements. 

You look up at him again and he smirks back down at you. Without wasting a second, his lips are on yours, working fervently against your mouth. Just as you grant his tongue access, there’s a small shout of “Mom!” from across the hallway and you separate. 

“We’ll continue this later,” you tell him, side stepping around the bed to head to your son’s room. Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to give your ass a little smack when you do so. You roll your eyes and give him the finger over your shoulder. 

Thirty minutes later, everyone is situated in the car. Your son chatters happily about how excited he is, while your husband listens and nods from the driver’s seat. His hand is lazily thrown over the console, loosely holding your own. 

Donghyuck has barely put the car in park at the complex when your son grabs his bag and practically sprints out of the car. You both watch as he approaches the field, joining his team to put on his gear and warm up. A small contented sigh leaves your mouth. You lean back against the headrest and close your eyes. 

You’re only granted a few moments of peace before your husband disturbs you. His hand slips from its place on the console to your upper thigh, where he gives it a quick squeeze. Your eyes shoot open. “Hyuck…” you warn.

“‘...’m not doing anything,” he mumbles, eyes zeroed in on the plush skin underneath his hand. 

A scoff escapes you at his statement. You don’t get a chance to shoot back a smart remark, because his other hand reaches out and pulls your face towards him. Before you know it, his lips are crashing against yours. His mouth moves roughly against your own and you can feel your own desire increasing by the second. You reach up, placing your hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer. 

Your little moment is quickly interrupted by a knock on the driver’s side window. When Donghyuck turns his head, you catch a glimpse of Mark with his hands in his pockets and a disgruntled look on his face. Unsurprisingly, his outfit matches your husband’s to a tee. Hyuck rolls down the window.

“You guys are nasty little voyeurs, man. We’re at a children’s football game,” Mark calls out to you both. “Game starts in 15 minutes,” he continues, looking down at his watch. “And you might want to fix that,” he says, gesturing to the eye black that mirror’s Donghyuck’s, before turning around and walking back to his wife. 

Sure enough, when your husband turns back to you, the purple has smudged further down his cheek. “Sorry,” you giggle to him, while reaching out to fix it as best as you can. 

One of his hands reaches down to rest on your thigh again. “Our son is going to sleep pretty well after this game, right?” he asks you. 

“Probably, why?” you ask as you lean back to observe your work. 

Donghyuck leans down and presses his lips to your ear before whispering, “I want to give him a sibling.” You smack his chest as hard as you can and he leans back, howling in laughter.

“Great,” you tell him with a deadpan expression. “Now I’m going to be wet walking into my son’s football game.”

His Adam’s apple bobs in response. “Mmm maybe I should keep it up. Would probably keep Melissa away,” he teases.

You smack him again. “Stop talking about another woman when you just said you wanted to put a baby in me.”

Donghyuck simply smirks in response before turning off the car and unbuckling his seatbelt. He whips his head toward you, taking you by surprise. “Last to the field has to do the dishes tonight,” he says, before sprinting out of the car the same way his son had. You shake your head before running after him. 

[twohearts-hs]

Dove & Captain: 4 - Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader Series

Words in Total: 9.8k

Pairings: Dr. Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Synopsis: She's his Dove. The ER nurse who is the definition of chaos, trauma and humour in scrubs. He's her Captain, gruff, emotionally guarded war veteran with a prosthetic leg and completely in love with her. Six years together, a mortgage, four dogs and the ability to conquer anything. This is a story of their life in one day. He is 49, she's 30. This is one day of their life based on the 15 episodes of 'The Pitt'. There will be little imagines of their relationship over the years.

Warnings: Swearing, Age Gap, Trauma, Medical Language/Procedure, Pregnancy, Miscarriage, etc.

A/N: This is a complete series of ~60k. I will post a few snapshots of their relationship over the six+ years they've been together.

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist

-

1200

Y/N finally looked at her phone again. It was little past twelve and she had a moment to breathe. Opening her phone, she saw a few messages. One from Jack around a few minutes ago: “Jesus, dove, woke up to this novel of a text. Sounds good about dinner. I’ll grab ingredients soon. Dogs are good. Going to walk them in a bit. About Dolly, send me a link, but can’t promise anything. We have four already…  Just be smug to Robby back and put him in his place. Beckett can crash, but can we talk before he comes? Just need to debrief with you. Let Beckett know that the guest bed is made, but if he leaves his socks in the kitchen again, I’m going to make him clean the bathroom. Talk soon.”

            She nodded, reading it before going to the next message that was from Beckett. “Fire. Talked to Mom a few days ago. She met a lad at the legion and now thinks she has found her soulmate. Let’s see how long this one lasts…”

            Y/n chuckled, nodding before closing her phone. Robby gathered everyone and debriefed with them all about charting. It was a standard lecture about how to improve patient satisfaction scores, to get the hospital more money and to be through with diagnosing.

            Y/N finally got the tests results back for Nick Riley, glancing over them, she sighed. The kid did OD over fentanyl. Basically the same age as Beckett.

            “Robby,” Y/N said, getting up and walking over to him. She was wearing a cardigan now, a hot pink one, due to her being cold. “Nick Riley’s cerebral perfusion study is back,” she told him, handing him the tablet.

            She watched him take a deep breath as he glanced over the tablet to see the results. A loud sigh came before subtle nods. “No blood flow past the brain stem. Ok,” he muttered, looking over at her. “How are you holding up?” he asked, sending her a silent nudge.

            Y/N stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Grand. Good,” she muttered and shook her head lightly. “A lot of death today.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Jack had a rough night as well,” he explained.

            Y/N nodded. “Must be a full moon,” she mumbled. “Or a retrograde.” He just stared at her for a moment before chuckling. “How are you holding up, Chief?” she asked. “You don’t usually work this day. I’ve been caught up with my shit and didn’t think about you. Just checking in.”

            He stared at her for a moment, debating whether to talk, but thought not to. “Just another day in paradise,” he responded. “I’m fine,” he added as she stared at him for a moment with a raised brow. “You sound like Dana.”

            “We are cut from the same cloth,” Y/N replied, sending a smirk. “What do you want me to do with Nick?” she asked, going back to work.

            “Let me know when the transplant people from CORE arrive,” he said to her.

            “Yeah, totally,” she replied before turning away and leaving to check on her patients.

            Y/N was so close to winning the bet, but Collin’s got her by one factor. She had crash and the catch wrong, which Collin’s got right. Robby made fun of her for a bit, saying she did her calculations wrong, but Y/N shoved it off. She muttered something like, “Better at counting cards than making bets. There’s a mathematical equation to it which you can never get wrong when you do it correctly.”

            Dana and Robby just stared at her as if she had two heads.

            The ER was in its usual state of chaos, monitors beeping, sneakers squeaking, call lights flashing, trauma bay doors opening and swinging. It was just another day. Busy, hectic and chaotic.

            Y/N was standing leaning against the counter lightly as she wrote something on the computer. Her reading glasses on her nose as she ran a hand down her face. She was focused, humming lowly under her breath some song that Jack showed her a few days ago. He was about educating her on real music, whatever that meant.

            Robby approached her. “How many cups of coffee have you had?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “I don’t know. Maybe four,” she muttered, not thinking. “Did you get me one? I would love you forever. I didn’t sleep last night.”

            He stared at her, but she was focused on the computer.

            “You know, you’re only supposed to have two cups of coffee a day max while pregnant,” he whispered, leaning into her. Y/N slowly glanced up to him, face falling.

            “Fuck,” she whispered.

            “How far along are you?” he asked, raising a brow.

            “Seven weeks,” she whispered back. “Oh my God,” she whispered again, “the fetal heart rate is going to be increasing, and it could impair oxygenation. It can also increase a miscarriage.” She was whispering more to herself. She glanced down at the floor, trying to calm herself. “Oh my fucking God,” she whispered, voice filled with worry.

            Robby instantly softened. He stepped closer, placing a hand on her arm, squeezing it lightly, voice gentle but steady. “Hey, hey, breathe, Ace.”

            She nodded, but her hand was already on her stomach like could somehow undo the caffeine with her palms. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t even – fuck, Robby, what if I messed something up?” Her voice cracked on the last word, quiet but filled with a rising panic she didn’t often allow anyone to see.

            “You didn’t,” he said firmly. “Y/N, just stop, ok? Deep breaths. It’s not like you shot espresso into your veins through an IV. Four cups ins’t great, but its not catastrophic.”

            She bit down her lip, looking at him through wide, glassy eyes. “I know better, though. I fucking know better.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, you do. But you also haven’t slept. You’ve been working all week and you’ve been carrying this secret around, trying to function like nothing has changed. You’re stressed. That doesn’t make you a bad mom. It makes you human.”

            Her eyes dropped again, and she gave him a small nod. “Thanks, Robby,” she hummed.

            “Where’s that giant water bottle you carry around? The pink one? Let me fill it with water and electrolytes, vitamins and all that jazz. Get you hydrated,” he said with a smile, patting her on the back.

            “It’s at my station,” she replied. “Thanks.”

            He nodded. “Anytime. But before I do that, I do need your advice on something,” he told her, looking at her.

            Y/N nodded. “Yeah, shoot.”

            “It’s really weird and I don’t know what the hell to do with it. I don’t know if you’ve seen something like this or read about it…”

            She slowly nodded, pressing save on the chart she was working on and turning her full attention to him. “Talk to me.”

            “There’s a woman who came in this morning. Nausea, vomiting, lightheaded, fatigue, that sort of thing. Vitals were fine. Blood work clean. Nothing to show what was happening. With a few questions, she finally admitted that she had taken an induced vomiting drug. Made herself sick to get here.”

            Y/N raised a brow. “Factitious Disorder?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

            He shook his head. “Thought that, but no. She wants help. Told me her son is planning on killing some schoolgirls.”

            Y/N’s face doesn’t change, instead she just stared at him. “Repeat that?”

            Robby leaned forward, voice low. “She said her teenage son has a list of girls he wants to kill. A hit list. She found it. Doesn’t know who to tell. Doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should get the police involved – McKay said I should. Dad died due to COVID. Kid ran off when I questioned.”

            Y/N exhaled. “Holy shit, ok.”

            “Yeah,” Robby nodded. “I’ve never had anything like this in the decades of medicine I’ve been practising. I mean, what do I even do? I’m not psych. This isn’t my wheelhouse.”

            Y/N doesn’t hesitate. “First, you need to document everything. Everything. Everything he mentioned, every action he did. Anything. Everything mom says and does as well. Trauma can cause idealisations like this. Or other mental health disorders. Mom brought him here, which means there’s an element of seeking help rather than hiding it. That’s important.”

            Robby nods slowly, absorbing.

            “Second,” Y/N continues, her tone soft but confident, “you are talking to her like she’s in a crisis. This is not a crisis right now. Do not make her more worried than she is right now. This is terrifying for her. You need to build therapeutic rapport.”

            Robby furrowed his brows. “I’m not a therapist, Y/N.”

            She shrugged. “Well, sometimes you need to be. Therapeutic rapport is building a bond, trust between you and the patient. No judgment. Be empathic, validate her feelings, make her feel safe. Hear the whole story. Moms know their kids. I know you’re good at rapport. I’ve seen it.”

            He nodded.

            “Ask her how she’s coping. Ask if there’s anyone helping her – therapists, counsellors, psychologists, even family. A support system needs to be created. She’s not crazy, she’s worried. She’s a mother whose son might be a danger to others, she’s scared shitless.”

            He nodded. “What about the son?”

            Y/N shrugged. “He’s a minor, right?” Robby nodded. “It’s not a ‘tell the school’ issue. You need to report this. Don’t call the police. Police don’t know how to deal with cases like this without making it seem criminal. Get psych involved, even social work. I can help do. But right now, your job is the mom. Talk to her. Sit down. Be human. It’s not about diagnosing, it’s about understanding the pain that this kid is going through and how you can support the family. If that makes sense. It’s not black or white, Robby. Tough with situations like this.”

            Robby looked at her for a beat, then chuckled softly. “You can be terrifying when you’re calm like this.”

            She hummed. “Did my time in mental health, remember? Three years of working in the psych ward as a mental health worker. I’ve sat on too many cold tile floors with kids who thought no one would ever understand them. You don’t forget that. Being a teenager is hard, especially in this day of age.” Y/N squeezed his arm. “I have a teenager brother. It’s hard for them.”

            Robby nodded. “Thanks. I mean it.”

            Y/N bumped her shoulder with his. “You got this, Cowboy. Just be kind. Active listening. That’s all people ever really need.” He sent her a smile. “Want me to come? Jump in if needed?”

            He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, too many bodies. She might freak out.”

            Y/N nodded. “Absolutely valid. Go be a therapist for a second. Might even boost your patient satisfaction scores,” she hummed, smiling.

            Robby chuckled, shaking his head and walking away.

-

Dana came up to Y/N a little while later. “Have you eaten, sweetheart?” she asked, leaning to look at her.

            Y/N shook her head. “Not since this morning when Jack shoved a sandwich down my throat and then I puked it up,” she replied, humming.

            “Come on, Mama,” she hummed, hooking her arm with the nurse and pulling her to the break room.

            Once they got there, there were several bags filled with sandwiches. Instantly, Y/N then felt her hunger, sitting down and going through the bags.

            “Ugh,” McKay groaned, “the things I would do for pastrami.”

            Y/N smirked, going through the boxes to find something she could eat. It was recommended not to eat cold cuts when pregnant, so she was searching for something.

            “Is there a turkey and cheese?” Princess asked, glancing over.

            “Uh, yeah,” Y/N replied, handing her a box.

            The door opened, and Robby came in. “Oh, what is all this?” he asked.

            “Lunch. Primanti’s. It appears that we have at least one grateful patient,” Dana replied, looking over her shoulder to see Robby.

            Robby smirked. “Hope is alive. Who do we have to thank?” he asked.

            “I don’t know. I think there’s a card at the bottom of the bag,” Dana said.

            Robby found it, reading it over, however he placed it down, face fallen. “Enjoy your lunch,” he responded, then looked over at Y/N. “But you…eat,” he lectured, pointing at the young nurse.

            “I am!” she hollered back, mouth full of food.

            “Good.” Then he left the room.

            Y/N noticed the wicked change of behaviour from the old man within seconds. Brows furrowed; she grabbed the card.

            “What was that?” Whitaker asked.

            “Don’t know,” Dana replied.

            Y/N sighed. “It’s from Shelby Adamson, Dr. Adamson’s sister,” Y/N replied, handing the card to Dana.

            “She sends something every year,” Dana muttered, sighing.

            “He doesn’t like her?” Whitaker asked.

            Y/N shook her head. “No, it’s about that. It’s about him,” she whispered, biting into her sandwich again.

            “Dr. Adamson was Robby’s mentor and he…he died during COVID, so,” Dana replied, another deep sigh came from her.

-

1300

Y/N got called for a potential drug-induced patient or even psych. Nandi, an influencer who was erratic. Y/N stood next to Robby, arms crossed, as Donnie administered some drugs and Santos and Mohan tried to get the patient’s history.

            “Javadi, Whitaker, see if you can do the exam,” Robby said, looking over to the med students.

            They nodded. Javadi took out her pen light. “Can you look at the light?” she asked as Whitaker took vitals.

            Instantly, the patient flinched, hiding herself away from the light. “No. What was that?” she expressed.

            “Ok. Open your mouth?” Javadi tried.

            The patient was curled up, scared and filled with fear. Y/N continued to watch the behaviour, glancing over to Robby, who gave her a look.

            “No. It’s not real. Where am I?” the patient continued to express, voice filled with fear.

            “How do you even do an exam with a patient like this?” Whitaker asked.

            Nandi continued to be paranoid.

            “Observe her. Wait for her to look at you or open her mouth, and get a quick look. Make sure she moved her arms and legs equally,” Mohan explained to the med students.

            Donnie tried to get the patient hooked up to the monitor, but she was fighting.

            “Alright, we might need to wait until after the meds kick in,” Robby explained, arms still crossed as he looked at the patient. Then he called everyone out of the room. Y/N followed suit.

            Once out of the room, Y/N stood in front of Robby, glancing back as she tried to think of what could possibly have happened. However, Robby let out a sigh.

            “Ok, differential diagnosis?” he asked.

            “Schizophrenia, first psychotic break. She’s in the right age range,” Javadi suggested.

            Y/n slowly nodded. Robby too. “Yeah, what else?” he said.

            “Drugs, also common in this age group,” Whitaker explained.

            “Common in any age group,” Y/N replied.

            “Exactly,” Robby said. “What else?”

            “Not just recreational drugs. It could also be toxicity to medications,” Javadi tried.

            Y/N nodded again, thinking that could be a possibility as well.

            “Don’t just jump to conclusions,” Mohan reminded. “Think big categories and then specifics.”

            “Metabolic, hyper- or hyponatremia, calcium, hepatic encephalopathy,” Whitaker brainstormed.

            “Endocrine, hyperthyroid, infectious encephalitis,” Javadi added.

            “These are all possibilities,” Robby muttered, looking down at the floor for a second. “Ok, let’s work her up medically and see if we can clear her.” Then he glanced at the patient through the window.

            “Chem panel, CBC, TSH and T4, drug screen, and hCG,” Mohan muttered, saying the tests they need to do.

            “Yep. Keep me posted. If it’s all negative, then admit her to psych,” Robby ordered, nodding at the team before walking off.

            Y/N nodded, turning back to the patient to help stabilise her so they could get the tests done.

-

Y/N watched Robby’s behaviour for an hour. The way he was snappier, grumpier and a little bit too harsh with his tone. She figured it could be because he was hangry or perhaps due to the fact that it was Adamson’s death day. However, she needed to talk to him. She needed him to talk to her and for her to express that he can’t talk the way he does to his team.

            When she spotted him exiting the bathroom, she made her way, stopping in front of him. He stared at her for a moment, raising a brow.

            “You, me, talk, now,” she barked, pointing to the hallway.

            “Y/N,” he tried, voice low and warning.

            She shook her head. “Nope. You’re talking to me,” she explained, grabbing his arm and pulling him.

            “I’m a busy man, Y/N. I don’t have time–“

            “Don’t care. You need a moment to decompress. To breathe. So, we will go to the corner and hash it out,” she barked back, stopping in a spot where no one could see them. “You’re being harsh to the kids. A little bit too blunt, which isn’t like you, Robby–“

            He stared at her for a moment before glancing away, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” he said, trying to convince her.

            She shook her head. “You’re off today. I’m not the only one who sees it.”

            He scoffed.

            “You’re snapping. Chewing the kids out like they stole your car. Something’s going on, so tell me,” Y/N explained, nudging him. “Just between us.”

            He glanced at her, eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place – exhaustion, maybe. Pain. Or both. His jaw clenched.

            “Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “Not everything needs to be dissected with your psych degree and nurse intuition. Maybe I’m just in a bad fucking mood.”

            She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t snap at people because of a bad mood. That’s not who you are. Also, you need to be professional, Robby. If it is a bad mood, stop impacting other people. We need to work as a team.”

            Robby looked away again, like he was trying to swallow something that didn’t want to go down. “You ever think that maybe I’m just a ride for people expecting me to hold it together?” he muttered.

            Y/N softened when he muttered that. “Then talk it out. Say it. Don’t lash out at them. You’re their attending, Robby, their mentor. The chief of the ER. They look up to you.”

            He let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, today they’re looking up to a man who’s–“ He sighed.

            She stared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re one of the only people I’ve ever trusted to go into hell with and come out on the other side. But not like this. Not when you’re burning people with you.” He blinked. Once. Twice. “It’s ok to not be ok.”

            Then his tone dropped, almost broken as he glanced down.

            “It’s Adamson’s anniversary.”

            She nodded slowly. “I figured.”

            “And then all the fucking deaths, chaos. It’s just–“

            “It’s a day, Robby. Too much in one day,” she replied, sending him a small smile.

 He nodded, breathing harder now. “I just. Everyone expects us to fix things and sometimes I don’t know how to fix things.”

Y/N nodded. “You’re not supposed to fix everything, Robby,” she said gently. “But it’s ok to not be ok. We are doing our best. All of us.” Robby stared at her. “We aren’t superheroes. We aren’t God or whatever people believe in. We are just ER cowboys trying to win the rodeo,” she replied.

            There was a long pause, and Robby looked like he might finally crack. His mouth opened but then Y/N’s face shifted.

            Instantly, she grasped the wall as she clasped her stomach, holding it. Wincing, as she held her breath.

            Robby watched her, eyes widening. “Y/N?” he asked, instantly, alarm.

            Her brows furrowed as she continued to feel the intense cramps. “Fuck,” she whispered before shaking her head. “No, no, no, you do not get to do this.” Y/N bent over, both hands covering her stomach now.        

            Robby stepped closer, his voice soft but urgent. “Talk to me. What’s happening?”

            Y/N glanced up at him, colour draining from her face. He said her name again, hand coming out to hold her, but instantly, she pushed past him. Robby turned, seeing her beginning to try her best with walking away.

            “Y/N,” he tried, walking after her.

            “I’m fine, go back to work,” she whispered, breathy.

            He scoffed. “No, no. You’re not fine,” he said, trying to reach for her, but she pulled away.

            She turned to him. “Fuck off and leave me alone,” she barked. “Do not follow me.”

            Then she disappeared down the hall, leaving Robby standing here, pulse pounding in his ears.

            He knew it. He knew exactly what was happening. And this time, he couldn’t fix it either.

-

1400

Y/N pushed the bathroom door open. She knew what was happening, biting down on her bottom lip, she closed the bathroom door, locking it. Sitting down on the toilet, she pulled her pants down and glanced at her underwear.

            Instantly, her stomach turned. Instantly, a sob came from her. Instantly, she closed her eyes and lost it.

            Blood. So much blood.

            She was miscarrying.

            Sitting there, she let it happen. She let everything happen. Y/N closed her eyes, sitting there on the toilet. Her pants were down, her hands were on her knees, and the tears just came. Y/N knew it was going to happen. It happened before. The chance of her getting pregnant was slim, but the chance of her carrying to term was even slimmer.

            There was a piece of her that was hopeful. Bleeding can happen in pregnancy, and she was still in her first trimester, but as she opened her eyes again and looked at her underwear, she shook her head.

            This was not light bleeding. Not even close. This was truly a miscarriage.

            Y/N let the tears happen for minutes. She knew Robby would find her if she got spotted, but she couldn’t think about this right now.

            She just had to let herself grieve in solitude.

            Twenty-four hours. She had knowledge that she was pregnant for twenty-four hours. She found out around two o’clock the day prior and now it was just a little past two, and she was not pregnant anymore.

            Y/N took deep breaths. Allowing herself to calm herself down. Cleaning her underwear and grabbing a sanitary pad from the bathroom, she fixed herself up at the mirror. She had to go on. Few more hours. Few more hours and she could go home.

            Y/N knew Beckett wanted to come over today, but she couldn’t let him anymore. She needed to be alone. Tomorrow was her day off. She could wallow in her own pity or pretend it never happened.

            Then it hit her.

            Jack. Her sweet, old man, Jack. He had no idea. Not a single clue what was going on.

            There was no pregnancy anymore. There was no exciting news. There was no baby. There was no way she was going to tell him now.

            He didn’t know about the last miscarriage. They weren’t together at the time. She had her last one at twenty-two. Eight years ago. A different partner at the time. A whole other world.

            Y/N grasped the sink for a moment, wiping her tears before looking back up. She smiled, showed her teeth and then took a deep breath.

            She needed to confirm the miscarriage. She needed proof.

            Opening the door to the bathroom, she kept her head down, walking past everyone and making her way to the ultrasound machine that was standing by the nurses’ station. She grabbed it, wheeling it to Central 16. However, Robby watched her. Robby watched her with Dana next to him as Y/N tried to hide this from everyone.

            Instantly, he pushed off the leaning post against the station and followed suit.

            Y/N was in the trauma room, turning the ultrasound on while grabbing the gel, when the door opened.

            “Lie down,” Robby whispered. “Let me,” he said.

            Y/N turned her head, tear tear-stained face and reddened eyes. However, no more tears were thre. She froze for a second, gripping the ultrasound probe too tightly, knuckles white. The room was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that made everything echo, even your own breath.

            Y/N stared at him, no words, just shook her head in a silent ‘no’. Robby stepped forward gently, hands raised as if he was approaching a wounded animal.

            “Please, Ace,” he said softly. “Let me help.”

            She blinked slowly; tears welled again but didn’t fall. Her voice was nearly gone. “I know how to use an ultrasound machine, Robby,” she responded.

            “I know you can,” Robby replied. “But you shouldn’t have to do this. Not alone.”

            Y/N’s lips trembled. Her fingers loosened around the probe before she let it drop onto the tray beside the machine. She didn’t say anything – just walked slowly over to the medical bed and laid back, legs still tense, arms folded across her chest.

            Robby moved with care, grabbing a pair of gloves and setting up the ultrasound. He didn’t speak as he pulled, he pivacy curtain across the window and door. The room filled with a quiet hum of the machine warming up.

            “This is just to check, ok?” he said. His voice was steady and careful. “I’m going to use a little pressure.”

            She nodded without looking at him. Her jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. Mind racing as she took deep breaths. Tucking her shirt up, she exposed her stomach to him.

            Robby squirted the gel onto her lower abdomen and gently moved the probe into place. Y/N turned to look at the screen. Both of them did.

            Nothing.

            He tilted the wand slightly, adjusted angles.

            Still nothing.

            No heartbeat. No flicker. It was there yesterday, but today it was gone.

            The silence was deafening.    

            Robby’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

            “Try transvaginally,” she whispered, staring at the screen. “It would be hard to see it as I’m so early. It’s more accurate.”

            Robby stared at her for a moment, watching as she broke her eye contact from the screen to look at the man, she was so close with. When their eye’s met the hope that was in Y/N’s eyes, the sparkle, was long gone since this morning. She knew the answer, but she was science-based and needed to know.

            “Ok,” he muttered, pulling the probe away.

            “Get me something to drape myself,” she muttered, and Robby nodded, handing her a sheet from a cart in the corner.

            Robby turned his back to her and Y/N pulled her pants down, underwear and all, before draping the sheet over her.

            “I’m bleeding,” she whispered, warning him. “Vaginally,” she muttered added. “Because I’m–“

            He nodded. “I know. It’s ok, Ace. I’ve got you.”

            He didn’t look at her body. He didn’t even glance. He just handed her the internal probe and told her she needed to insert it herself. Y/N sat on the gurney, knees up, legs spread as she inserted it.

            “It’s in, Robby,” she whispered.

            He nodded, finding the probe under the drape, his arm steadying on her knee, a comfort message as he looked back at the screen.

            Still nothing.

            Just the hollow blackness of an empty gestational sac. No flicker. No movement. The image that meant life twenty-four hours ago was now confirmation of loss.

            Y/N closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. She didn’t cry. She didn’t even flinch. It was like her soul had gone quiet. Numb.

            Robby slowly removed the probe and stepped back, carefully covering her again. He went to open his mouth to explain the next steps when it comes to having a miscarriage, but Y/N stopped him.

            “Not my first rodeo, Cowboy,” she muttered with a hint of a joke, pulling her pants back up. “This is my third,” she casually said.

            Robby stared at her. Hearing such a secret, the vulnerability of her words. “Have you and Jack gone through this before?” he asked. “Were you trying?”

            She scoffed, shaking her head. “No and no. I was twenty-two last time. Then nineteen the first time,” she responded. Y/N was moving to sit on the edge of the medical bed, looking at Robby, who was staring at her like she was broken. “Don’t look at me like that.”

            “Like what?” he whispered, brows furrowed.

            “With pity,” she said. Then she took a deep breath. “Don’t tell Jack. Don’t ever tell Jack. Don’t ever bring it up to Jack. Jack will never know. Never ever know. This is my story. Not our story,” she said, words very deliberate and soft.

            Robby’s brows furrowed, jaw tightening. “Y/N–“

            “I’m fucking serious, Robby,” she snapped, eyes finally locking on this. “He’ll never know. You hear me? This is going with me to the grave.”

            “He loves you, Ace. So much,” Robby said quietly, eyes soft but firm. “He deserves to know. He would want to know. I would want to know if we were together,” he said.

            “But we aren’t,” she casually shrugged before glancing up at the ceiling. “Jack has had a hell of a life. So much loss. He doesn’t need this on top of it. He thought I couldn’t get pregnant. He made his peace with it. I don’t need to disrupt that.”

            Robby crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not good going through this alone,” he muttered.

            She shook her head. “Well, sometimes there are things you do have to conquer alone,” she responded, jumping off the bed and looking at the chief of the ER. “Patient-Doctor confidentiality, Robby. I was your patient,” she said. “Don’t tell Jack.”

            Robby swallowed, nodding. “Go home, Y/N,” he said, a little too sternly, a little too roughly. “Go home. We’ll cover you.”

            She stared at him, crossing her arms. “I’m not dying, Robby. I’m miscarrying, I’m fine–“

            “You’re emotional,” he whispered.

            Her head snapped to him. “Oh, fuck you, Robby,” she barked, shaking her head and walking to the door. “Burn the scan. Delete the images. This never happened,” she said. “Thank you, though, for being here for this minute.”

            Robby didn’t say anything as she opened the trauma room door. He just watched her walk away with fire in her step and devastation in her eyes.

            The minute the door clicked shut behind her, he ran a hand through his hair, then face through his beard and exhaled hard. This was the part of the job that hurt the most. Not the trauma, not the chaos. It was watching someone you love – really love – bleed silently and refuse to help.

            And Jack?

            Jack would lose his fucking mind if he knew what just happened in this room.

            Y/N went to the nurse’s station, sitting down and opening up the computer. Dana knew what was up. Robby mentioned Y/N tumbled in pain, and then she wheeled the ultrasound machine into the trauma room. She stayed silent for a moment, debating what to do with the young nurse who was pretending nothing happened.

            She walked over, pulling a seat next to Y/N.

            “Talk to me,” Dana whispered.

            “Rather not,” she replied, eyes focused on the screen. “But thank you for being like a mom to me,” she whispered. “Thank you for the support.”

            “Always, sweetheart,” Dana hummed back, touching her shoulder, squeezing it. “But I’m here.”

            Y/N nodded, halting her type before looking at Dana. “I’m going to give the same speech to you as I did to Robby. This is between us. Jack will never know. You hear me never know. Ever. It’s my story and I chose who gets to know,” she said quietly, voice sharp.

            Dana nodded staring at her for a moment. “Of course.” Then Dana moved away from Y/N, knowing that hovering wasn’t going to benefit her at all.

-

            Y/N instantly was on her feet when a child rolled in on a gurney. Paramedics announced she was a drowning victim. Y/N instantly grabbed gloves and hurried over.        

            “Amber Philips, six years old. Found at the bottom of a home pool with an unknown downtime. Asystole on the monitor,” the paramedics called out as Y/N hurried alongside them.

            “Intubated with a cuffed 4.5, 22-gauge left AC, 0.25 epi three minutes ago,” another called out.

            Y/N grasped the underlying sheet, as someone counted down before they moved the child from the gurney to the medical bed. Instantly, she was back to herself, grabbing supplies and working around the doctors.

            “Whitaker, take over compressions,” Robby called out before looking up. “Any family coming in?”

            “Grandma and little sister,” a paramedic called out.

            “Fast and deep,” Collin’s stated.

            Whitaker began doing compressions as Mel stepped in with her stethoscope. “She’s really cold.”

            Y/N heard that, knowing what that meant and nodded, already going to work before Robby could say anything.

            “Ace, get a core temp,” he called out.

            “On it already,” she replied.

            “Good breath sounds bilaterally,” Mel called out.

            “Should we use the Lucas?” Whitaker asked.

            “No, she’s way too small for that,” Collin’s replied.

            Y/N was grabbing her temperature, brows furrowed. “Rectal temp only 85.” Y/N shook her head. “Kid’s got moderate hypothermia,” she stated. Robby glanced at Y/N who was deep into her work.

            “Yeah,” he stated, nodding. “We need to get her up to 90 if we have any chance of restarting her heart.”

            They all nodded.

            “250 ccs heated saline. Set up the Arctic Sun. Continuous core temp monitoring, and prep another epi 0.25,” Collins called out, and Y/N instantly went to work grabbing the supplies and things needed.

            Robby just stood there, looking at Y/N. “Robby, if you keep staring, I will throttle you,” Y/N muttered, walking around him.

            He then nodded, out of his daze. “Yup,” he muttered, looking back at the patient.

            They continued to work on the patient, trying their best to bring her back. Y/N tried not to think that there was a little girl on the table, someone’s daughter.

            Grandma came in, sitting next to Amber.

            “She wasn’t breathing, so the medics put a tube in her throat,” Robby whispered to the grandmother.

            “She’s so cold,” Frances, the grandmother, called out, scared.

            “We’re warming her up. That way, she’ll have a better chance to respond to the medicines,” Robby explained, looking back at Y/N who refused to look him in the eye.

            “They moved a bench next to the pool fence so they could go over, because their soccer ball went in the water. Amber couldn’t make it out of the deep end. The gate was locked. I was vacuuming. I didn’t hear them,” Frances muttered, holding onto her granddaughter as she sniffed and sighed.

            Y/N’s heart broke hearing that, but she couldn’t think of that right now. She had a job to do.

            The parents came in soon after. Y/N watched them as the mother came to hold her daughter. Y/N swallowed.

            “Rhythm check. Hold compressions,” Collins called out.

            Whitaker took a step back. But the machine was flat lining.

            “Asystole. Resume compressions,” Collins ordered.

            Whitaker went back to CPR while Y/N held the breathing bag.

            “Three minutes since the last epi,” Y/N said.

            “Push another,” Collins replied.

            “Did you shock the heart?” the mother asked, glancing up.

            “Uh, no,” Robby replied, calmly, lowly.

            “Why…why didn’t you shock the heart?” the mother asked, words desperate and confused. “We’ve got to save her. You’ve got to shock the heart.”

            “Heart rhythm right now is flatlining. That’s not treatable with a shock. We’re trying to get the rhythm to change to something we can shock by warming her up,” Robby replied, voice quite and low.

            “Ok. So, we’ve got to warm up. You’ve got to get some more blankets in here or something,” the mother rambled.

            “We are giving her warm IV fluids, and you can feel these blue pads. They have warm water running through them like a hot tub,” Robby muttered.

            “Are you sure you’re doing everything?” the mother asked, quietly.

            “Yes, we are,” Robby confirmed.

            Robby’s eyes went back to Y/N, who glanced up to see him. He was just staring her, and Y/N took a deep breath and dodged his eyes.

            They continued longer trying to bring back this little girl. Y/N didn’t try to think of the situation but rather the job that needed to be done. Whitaker continued to do chest compressions, warm saline went through her veins and Y/N helped with getting oxygen into her.

            “Core temp is 88,” she spoke up. Slowly it was climbing.

            “Is that good?” the dad spoke up, looking around the room.

            “It’s up from 85 on her arrival, so we’re headed in the right direction,” Collins spoke up.

            Robby was hovering, arms crossed as he walked around the room. His eyes were on the little girl, then Collins, before jumping back to Y/N, who remained emotionless.

            “You hear that, Amber?” the mother spoke. “It’s better,” she said between breaths as she ran her hand through her daughter’s hair. “You’re getting better.”

            “I need to step out for a second. You’re in good hands,” Robby whispered, looking at the parents. “Come find me when it’s over 90,” he whispered to Collins before leaving the room.

            Eventually the core temperature got to 91. Robby was back in the room, glancing at monitors. Mateo was on the bag down helping her breathe while Y/N stood with her arms crossed.

            “Can you shock the heart now?” the dad asked.

            “91 is warm enough for her heart to respond,” Robby muttered, still looking at the monitors.

            “Hold compressions,” Collins addressed. Whitaker stopped and the machine flatlines. Y/N walked to the phone to hear the results of the labs.

            “Asystole,” Mel whispered.

            “Resuming compressions.”

            Listening to it, her face fell, nodding. She hung up, placing the phone back on the wall before turning to the crowd. She took a breath. “Potassium levels are back,” she said.

            Robby looked at her, raising a brow.

            “12.2,” she breathed, knowing what it meant. Her eyes looked over the crowd as Robby walked over, bending down next to the family.

            Y/N’s heart broke, looking over to the girl on the table. Seeing her small frame, her lifeless, small frame and sighed. Another death. Another death on this day.

            “No one has ever survived a cardiac arrest with a potassium over 11. There is absolutely no chance of recovery,” Robby said, voice low, calm and soft. He took a breath. “I am so sorry. Amber has died.”

            Y/N instantly glanced down, biting down on her bottom lip.

            “Before we stop, do you think her sister would like a chance to say goodbye?”

            “No,” the dad responded, shaking his head. “Uh, Bella shouldn’t see her like this.”

            “Ok,” Robby replied, sending a solid nod. “You can stay in here for as long as you like. We are going to stop now,” he told them.

            The mother was hysterical. Y/N couldn’t blame her. She just lost a child. Her child. A daughter who barely lived. So small, so young. Y/N lost a child today, and it might not have been the same as the mother, but it was still a child.

            Robby met Y/N’s eyes, and he saw her expression. His head nodded to the door and she nodded back, quietly excusing herself from the room.

            Y/N walked right outside the trauma ward into the ambulance bay. The sun was shining, the wind was soft, and it was just a beautiful day. A beautiful September day, but it was such a fucking shitty day. She leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and staring in front of her.

            “Fuck, I want a cigarette,” she muttered. “Just one fucking cigarette.”

            However, she could hear Jack’s words in her brain scolding her for pumping poison into her lungs. His words would be so simple “Dove, rather you talk to me than take your stress out through inhaling toxins.”

            If that was so fucking simple. If everything was so fucking simple.

            She had no idea how long she had been there for, but she saw Nick Bradley’s body being wheeled out on a gurney to the ambulance bay to be transported for organ donation. She missed the memory walk. However, Y/N didn’t move. She stayed put, glancing ahead.

            Dana, Collins and Robby came out to see the ambulance leave. Y/N stayed put, not saying a word, not even looking at them. Instead, just stared ahead. Her arms were crossed, then she glanced down at her shoes, seeing the stains from the job. Her cardigan was gone. Just the long-sleeved cheetah print she had under the lighter scrubs. Y/N pulled the band from her hair, letting it fall over her shoulder. Long, thick locks that cascaded in perfect waves.

            Robby spotted her by the doors, about three metres from them. Her back against the wall, just staring. He debated whether or not to walk over. Would she be down to talk? Would she even want to talk?

            He lingered, hands on his hips, watching her, hus head straight then a slight tilt he did whenever he was thinking too hard. Collins and Dana exchanged a glance, one that said, “leave it to Robby” before heading back in through the double doors, the hush of grief following them.

            Robby waited a beat longer. Then walked over.

            He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood beside her, leaning back against the same wall, crossing his arms. His shoulders brushed hers, but she didn’t move. Instead, her head came, leaning over to his shoulder.

            Her eyes remained forward, lips pressed together and jaw tight. She swallowed hard before she took a deep breath.

            Robby didn’t know what to say.

            “You missed the walk,” he said after the moment, voice low.

            “I know.”

            “He was your patient.”

            She was silent for a moment, then a small, “I know,” came. Nothing else came from her, instead, she just moved her head to get deeper into the crook of his neck.

            Robby’s hand came, grasping her hand as their hands entwined. “I’m here,” he whispered.

            She nodded. “I know.” He went to open his mouth. “Don’t tell me to go home. Please don’t. That’s the last place I want to be.”

            He said nothing, stayed quiet.

            “You’re a good man, Michael,” she whispered. “A really good man. Who deserves so much. Happiness, peace, solitude and a fair life,” she mumbled. “I’m thankful for you. I’m grateful you’re in my life.” Then she breathed. “I’ll always have love for you,” she whispered, looking down. “But this job,” she muttered and took a deep breath in, “slowly degrades you. Burns brain cells. Eats your blood count. Destroys your faith.”

            “I know,” he replied. “You’ve had a day.”

            She stayed quiet for a brief second before pulling away and looking up to his six-foot frame. “No, we are having a day. Not just me.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, pretty fucking shitty. But this is what we do.”

            Y/N nodded in silence before looking back in front of her. “I should tell Jack, right?” she whispered.

            “Yeah, you should.” She nodded, reaching for her phone but he stopped her hand. “This is something to do in person, Y/N. I would like to hear it in person. Not due to selfish needs, but because I would want to hold you while you told me. Wipe your tears. Hold your hand. Caress your hair and whisper ‘it’s going to be ok’.” Y/N met his eyes, and he saw how broken they were. “I would tell you how much I love you. I would ask what you’d want next. Then I’d run you a bath, get in with you and hold you. I’d whisper sweet nothings, delivering kisses along your skin as I rub your stomach. Then we’d go to bed, and I’d hold you all night.”

            Y/N stared at him. They said nothing for moments. Just stared at one another. Their hands were still entwined together.

            Then she took a long, deep breath. “A lot of death today,” she mumbled.

            “I agree.”

            She broke her gaze from him and looked ahead. “It’s been officially like a hundred days of me not smoking. I stress smoke. Since I was eleven, and stole them from my mother. I might light one or two, or a whole packet,” she muttered. Then she took another breath. “Jack found me last time. I’d got news that my mom was ok. She was missing from her housing facility. She was missing for two weeks. Found,” she let out a chuckle, “at our old shit box home. We lived in it till I was ten before we got evicted. She was pregnant with Beckett at the time. We moved into my Nana’s. Beckett was born not soon after,” she mumbled. He looked at her, listening but then she shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I just want a fucking cigarette, and I can hear Jack’s brooding, grumpy old man voice in the back of my head lecturing me.” She met his eyes. “Don’t lecture me, Cowboy,” she joked with a small smile. “I bet you have vices to deal with your shit.”

            He smirked, chuckling. “Hey, we work in the ER, the ways we cope can’t be judged.” Though he winked at her, and she raised a brow. “I can’t give you a cigarette as I don’t smoke and I know Jack would throttle me if he found out. But,” he hummed, digging into his pocket, “I have a mint.”

            Y/N stared at the mint he had. The peppermint, one that brought a smile to her face. “That’s from the staff room.”

            He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

            She then sent a small smile. “Jack, before we started dating, would hand me a mint from the staff room whenever I had a bad case. He would say something like, ‘the burning would distract you’. We’d sit on the rooftop. Talk about anything. Well, he was my boss, so I didn’t know what to talk about. So, we’d talk about common things, which usually was how bad the coffee in the break room was and how I had a conspiracy that the sandwiches from the cafeteria were recycled from the university and from frozen. I was awkward with him.”

            Robby glanced at her. He had one thought – if she wasn’t on night shifts for two years and on days instead, would they have had months like this…leading to a life together.

            “I didn’t know that,” he said gently.

            “Jack’s not a talker,” she responded. “Now he is. Not a yapper, but like the type to express his wants and needs bluntly.”

            Robby chuckled. “Yeah, best mates we are,” he hummed.

            Y/N nodded. “Oh, I know. You two trade tools, talk about trucks and bond over building things from scratch.”

            Robby chuckled. “I did pressure wash your rancher home this past summer,” he mumbled. “And your Bronco.”

            Y/N chuckled. “Jack has threatened me that if I continue to keep my Bronco a mess from all my trash, shit and life, I will be sleeping in the guest room.”

            Robby chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, he’s a military man. Organisation, clean, sleek,” he muttered.

            Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m right now banned from his truck because I spilt my Starbucks in it last week and plus left my shit in it. But it wasn’t shit. It was like a claw clip, a lipgloss, a tide pen, an old coffee mug and my panties,” she muttered, and Robby raised a brow.

“Panties?”

“We went on a walk, and I ended up swimming in my undergarments, so I took them off in the car while he gave me his shirt. I forgot to bring in my lake-soaked panties. Classic Jack is like ‘Dove, the truck isn’t a purse’ and ‘Your chaotic gremlin energy does not belong in the truck. Truck is sacred’,” she muttered with a chuckle while doing a grumpy Jack impression. “Now, when we have to go anywhere, he demands we drive my car when we have three other cars on the property, but he complains they are ‘collectors’. Then he goes on about the mess. Whatever…”

            Robby rolled his eyes in laughter. “You’re a chaotic girl,” he muttered. “And a chaotic gremlin.”

            “No, I’m spicy. Unique. Different. Keep you on your toes type of girl,” she responded. Then she smirked. “But, I’ll accept gremlin.”

            Robby nodded. “You know it was love at first sight with him,” he mumbled.

            Y/N heard him, heart fluttering for a moment before shaking her head. “No, it wasn’t. When we met, he was emotionally shut down. Still grieving his late wife. I was this chaotic thunderstorm who entered the ER at twenty-two, who questioned the way he charted and his brooding demeanour.” Then she chuckled. “The first year, it was just professional, but I also mainly worked with you Robby on days. I moved to nights because of the premium rates and then gradually, he started to challenge me, teach me new things. After one hard case, he came over and crashed on my couch. Then he started to crash every shift we had together and then he was sleeping in my bed. We were just friends. He never touched me or flirted with me. Then one day, I just kissed him. Somehow, I did it on the rooftop and then…magic. Six years later, four dogs, a mortgage on a rancher on an acre of land by the edge of a city, a Bronco he bought for me, paid off my debt, paying my brother’s university and endless camping trips where I complain about shitting in a hole and sleeping on the floor.” She took a breath. “Why me? I ask every day. Why me? Because I’m far from perfect. Childhood trauma. Addict Mother. Dad,” she breathed, “dad, who has a whole other family. A half-brother who’s my world. And so many stories I’m not proud of but had to do to survive.” Then she shook her head. “He doesn’t know it all. I keep so much because he’s Jack. Old-fashioned, but still progressive, the type who,” she looked over to Robby and whispered, “makes sure a teenage girl gets an abortion. Brooding, strict, blunt, but so kind, deliberate, gentle and patient. The type who makes two of everything when he makes a coffee, or a lunch, because he wants to ensure I’m taken care of. The one who takes care of everything, so I don’t have to worry. Lectures me on letting the dogs on the bed or spending 7$ on a coffee.” Then she let out a loud cackle. “The man who hates my mother but still supports her housing. Buys her groceries for her with me. Comes with me to check on her and didn’t get mad when I was hiding that I was sending her money from our account.”

            Robby stayed quiet, knowing she didn’t need a response.

            “I’m so incredibly happy,” she whispered. “I made my own happiness. Becoming a guardian to Beckett at nineteen, raising him when my mother couldn’t, supporting myself and him while I attended school, going to university, becoming a nurse…getting Winston. But he came, and it was just like, ‘yeah, I’m good now. Don’t need anything else’. But,” she breathed, “a baby.”

            Robby glanced over but her eyes were focused on a rock on the ground. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Moments. He knew she was thinking of the best way to say it. Her brain was going over every word in her brain.

            “I was a mother,” she eventually said,” I am a mother.”

            Robby’s brows furrowed.

            “I became a mother at fourteen when mom went on a bender for two weeks. Gone, came back for her shift and then fucked off forever. I had a four-year-old brother. I had no choice,” she muttered. “Fuck,” she scoffed. “How am I alive? With her as my mother. Fuck knows. But Beck is mine. He is my child. He’s my son,” she whispered. “Jack sees him as a son. He takes care of him. For me. For us. For him. But also, because he’s Jack,” she muttered as tears came.

            Then everything hit. Memories she shut out from her childhood. Moments she didn’t know ever existed. Situations she hid from herself. Tears began to come down her cheeks.

            “Jack can know about this,” she eventually muttered. “But he can’t know all of me. Of everything I’ve done to be here today to be with him because he wouldn’t understand it.”

            Robby didn’t interrupt. He let her sit in that silence, let the tears fall. One thing Y/N taught him was active listening and how beneficial it was. But it was so rare to see Y/N like this, how she talked like this. Her truth that isn’t jokes, humour, and smirks. Her world was beautiful now, he knew that. But the way she spoke broke him internally. But this wasn’t a moment for laughter, but rather her talking about a grief that suited her.

            She sniffled hard and swiped her cheeks with the sleeve under her scrub top. “He wouldn’t understand it,” she whispered again, quieter this time. “He’s ex-military…we are survivors in different ways, but I don’t understand his trauma, and he wouldn’t understand mine. But he’s good. He’s cleaner in ways I never was. Sure, he may have combat fought and saw shit. But, never had to,” she shook her head, “never mind. He’s a good man and I needed him, and I thank the universe everyday for us.”

            Robby nodded.

            “But I want a baby,” she whispered. “I realized it in the last twenty-four hours, and I can’t have a baby, Robby. But it doesn’t make sense for us to have a baby. He’s forty-nine. We are workaholics. I still love a good party. I smoke if Jack doesn’t catch me, drink like an Irishman at a pub and dance like it’s 1999,” she said as she stared ahead. “Beckett was my baby. He was my baby, and I became a mother at fourteen,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I think I just realised that.” She scoffed. “I have to be his mother because ours is a piece of fucking shit.”

            Robby swallowed thickly, chest tight, watching her unravel, not in chaos, but in clarity. A trust she hadn’t spoken aloud, maybe not even to herself.

            He pulled her closer to his side, holding her. “Yeah,” he whispered. A piece of him would want to say I would give you everything, but he knew Jack already did. “Beckett is yours. Might be a adult now–“

            “Don’t remind me,” she muttered. “He went to Jack two weeks ago for advice on oral sex.”

            Robby snickered, rolling his eyes. “You’re a good mom to him, Ace. You’ve done a good damn job.”

            Y/N looked at him, and he looked at her. “You’re a good man, Michael. In another life, I’d give you what you wanted,” she whispered, and he nodded.

            “In another life, Ace.”

            Then she scoffs. “God, I’m turning into an intern or a med student, crying in the ambulance bay,” she muttered before letting out a loud, real laugh.

            Robby smirked. “Welcome to the club. Took you long enough. They meet daily. Dana brings them muffins.”

            She glared at him. “I’m a nurse, not a goddamn med student. Crying is for the weak,” she barked but then smirked.

            “So judgmental, the rookies need to feel, Ace.”

            Their eyes were still looking at one another. “Do you think Jack would be mad if I didn’t tell him right away? Tell him when I’m ok?”

            Robby shook his head. “I would be ok with that,” he whispered but then sighed. “But Jack, he’d wouldn’t be mad, he’d be upset that you went through this alone.”

            She nodded. “He would say his classic line. I literally have a quote diary for him,” she muttered with a smile. “He would say,” she began and looked at Robby, clearing her throat for her best Jack impression, “it’s in the diary, ‘Dove…I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.’ Then he would be like, ‘Not in you, but in me. That I wasn’t there, but also that you went through this alone,’ isn’t that a Jack saying.” She smirked, proud of herself. Robby stared at her for a moment before nodding and chuckling.

            “You’re right on point, Ace.”

            “God, I know. I’ve been practising,” she hummed, smirking and sending him a wink and nudging his shoulder. “Anyway,” she whispered moments later. “You’re the Chief, fuck off and save lives.”

            He looked at her again and nodded. “You right?” he asked, nudging her.

            She looked at him for a moment, finding her words then broke in a smile. “I need a bloody case.”

            “Don’t jinx it.”

            “I need them alive. But like a good adrenaline rush. Earlier, when you let me do that intubation,” she hummed, nudging him again, “convincing me to join the daylight?”

            “You were moved to day shifts ten days ago,” he stated nonchalantly.

            “So, I can always change. You are on salary, me…well, hourly.” Then she smirked. “I love you, Cowboy, but like, you need to convince me to stay on the day. Jack lets me do way more on our shift.”

            He raised a brow, “It’s day. I can’t let you play being a doctor,” he stated. “Hate to break it to you, Ace, but you have a BSN, not an MD.”

            “Well, fuck you too, Robby.”             They stayed silent for moment. Then she smiled. “Hey, Cowboy?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Thanks for the mint,” she said with a smile, holding up the wrapper like a prize. “It helped. But not like a cigarette though.”

            He chuckled. “Well, if you stay on days, I’ll buy you a pack and store it in my locker for when you need them. But you can only smoke between 8am-6pm before Jack comes.”

            She smirks. “Marlboro lights, Cowboy. Take notes,” she hummed, winking.

            He nodded as she dropped her hold. “Locked in mind, Ace,” he hummed, smirking.          She nodded. “Go, save lives. I’ll be there in two.”

            He nodded, kissing the side of her temple before squeezing her arm and walking away. For a second, he paused, turning on his toes to look at her. “I may be good friends with Jack, but talk to me, ok? We are friends.”

            She smirked. “More than friends. Great friends, Cowboy. I’ll call you if I need you,” she muttered then lowered her voice, “better fucking do it to me if you need me.”

            He stared at her, mouth dropping a second before nodding. “Affirmative.”

            She smirked, watching him walk away. “That’s my saying!” she called out.

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-

Hope you enjoyed. xoxo

Ava <3

[ningvory]

♡ payback ┊ yu jimin & uchinaga aeri

parings — meangirls!kariselle x loser!femreader

synopsis — after telling them to shut up, you quickly became their next target on their list. except you don't back down to them and actually fight back. so what better option do they have besides making you their pretty fuck doll? they like to call this payback.

warnings — college au, dubcon, aphrodisiac, pussy eating, degrading, fingering, facesitting, tribbing, bullying..duh, blackmail, they’re lowk pervs, pet names like pretty girl, baby, kinda proofread i was dosing off😭

w/c — 1.8k (1,865)

yu jimin and uchinaga aeri, known as karina and giselle to those who aren’t close to them, are the campus’s mean girls. well known for their beauty and of course, for bullying anyone who even dares to look at them in a way they dislike, you didn’t know much about them and you honestly didn’t card. the staff didn’t give a shit, they knew that if they even bothered to try and stop the bullying they could easily buy their way out of trouble.

unfortunately you happen to be the next target on their list. when you told them to simply, “shut the fuck up.” when you all were taking a quiz. from that day forward, they were never gonna let forget who they were. they consider it karma.

they started to poke fun at you, doing what they always do to their targets. pushing you into lockers, holding your books in the air knowing that you can’t reach them, calling you names, taking embarrassing photos of you and threatening that they would post it everywhere but they don’t mean it really, they let you slide because they think you’re cute.

you never really let them bully you that easily either, always fighting back when they would tournament you. they began getting frustrated because everything they did, you would always fight back. so what option do they have besides to fuck you dumb and make you a pretty fuck doll?

they wanted to fuck that attitude outta you, make you their personal cum dump and they always mean what they say.

you were walking outta your last class of the day, mentally exhausted and really just wanting to crash out on your bed. not expecting to be pinned to a locker in the empty hallways of the campus, letting out a small yelp when your back came in contact with the hard surface of the lockers behind you.

“hey y/nnie~ we really need help with our work. come over to our dorm room, i’ll text you what time to come!” karina said, her signature smile plastered on her face. the same one that can get her anything she wanted. she had you pinned to the wall with a soft grip until she pulled you closer to her, tightening her grip on your shoulders.

“you better be there. i think you know the consequences of disobeying us.” her voice was low and right by your ear causing you to shiver before she pulled you back to get a look at your face.

“see you later y/n!” karina said with her smile. a complete 180 of how she was before, acting as if she didn’t just force you to go to their dorm room.

—

you had to run some errands and you finally made it back to you dorm, putting your bag down and just laying on your bed. until you heard a ding! and a vibration from your phone, making you groan and roll over, knowing exactly who was texting you.

‘hey pretty girl, it’s giselle texting from rina’s phone :] it’s already 6 so come to our dorm at 8, dorm room is 1576 and make yourself look a little presentable.’

you sighed, closing your eyes really wanting to just stay in bed and chill. but you really didn’t want any more trouble from them, so you rolled out of bed with a sigh. walking over to your closet to pick something out.

after about 15 minutes you finally got your outfit together, wearing a black crop top and a simple miniskirt with your panda dunks. it was 7:54 so you had enough time to eat a snack before you walked out the door.

—

you started your mini journey to their door, it wasn’t exactly far but not close to yours either which you were honestly happy with. you were glad that your airpods were in your purse because you did not want to walk all the way back to your dorm to get them, you really couldn’t survive a day without music.

you arrived at their door it was right at 8:30. you double checked and made sure that this was the right dorm before knocking.

you went on your phone again until the door suddenly flung open and your hand being yanked inside.

“ah! y/n~ nice you came, didn’t know if you were coming.” karina spoke, bringing you into her embrace, it almost felt like she was intentionally pushing her tits into your face. you gave her a semi hug, patting her back with an awkward smile until she finally let go.

karina walked you over to their black couch, telling you to sit down while giselle gets you a drink. telling you that ‘we always give our guess a drink! don’t mention it.’ you were still as a statue, awkwardly looking around trying to figure out what exactly they brought you over for, it was obvious that they didn’t bring you over to help them with an assignment.

“sorry we had to lie, we just wanted to hang out! sure you won’t mind, right?” giselle walked over to you, giving you a glass full of and orange substance.

“y/n, relax! you’re so tense we’re not gonna bite you or something.” karina spoke, sitting down next to you while giselle turned the tv on and sat on the other side of you.

you just nodded before going to take a sip of your drink. you let out a hum, it actually tasted good. the mixture of the different fruits tasted nice, you took a bigger gulp, going to ask them where’d they get it from until you felt a hot sensation all over your body.

the two looked over at you, not expecting the aphrodisiacs to take over your body so quickly. but at least they knew it worked, and they weren’t complaining. they enjoyed your expression change, watching how you fidgeted uncontrollably and rubbed your warm thighs together, desperately trying to relieve the neediness that you suddenly felt.

you were sat there for a minute, praying that whatever you were feeling would go away. you started to watch the movie on their widescreen TV, trying to ignore the hot feeling all over.

the two smirked at each other before karina spoke out, “something wrong, baby?” her voice was low and sultry, forcing to lay down on the couch.

you started at her with a face that was just so cute to her, doe eyes looking up at her with your eyebrows knitted and a pout resting on your face. you swallowed, not knowing what to do until you felt a pair of hands spread your legs open and flick your skirt up. making you yelp at the coldness of the room, looking down to see giselle smirking back up at you.

“aw~ you’re soaked pretty girl, you’re so nasty!” giselle teased before rubbing your clothed clit. she had to hold your legs in place because you were just so jittery!

you weren’t a virgin but you weren’t someone who fucks or pleasures yourself often, but you’ve never been so desperate to cum. it’s so embarrassing you just wanted to go home and do it yourself.

giselle slides your panties off, looking in awe at the way your juices created a thick string that connected your cunt to your panties.

she raises your legs up and didn’t waste a moment, sucking on your sensitive clit and fingering your cunt. you desperately push her head away from you, it was so wrong for your bully to be going down in you! high pitched moans and whines of ‘this is wrong! s-stop!’ fell outta your mouth but the aphrodisiac had your body reacting in the opposite of your words. cunt spilling with your juices and desperately grinding your cunt on her face.

“you keep telling me to stop but your body seems to want this, pretty girl.” giselle said, pulling her face away from your cunt to undress herself.

“such a dumb girl, look at the camera.” karina giggled before grabbing your chin forcing your dazed eyes to look at the camera.

“wonder what your friends would think if they found out their friend was getting fucked stupid by her bullies..you know, you’re actually lucky you get to see us nude. people would die to be in the position.” karina added on, panning the camera down to your fat cunt before she stopped recording, undressing herself too.

karina shuffled to where she was hovering over your face, cunt on display for you to see. “your moans are so cute but so loud! i don’t wanna to get a noise complaint again so put that mouth to use, yeah?” she couldn’t even care to wait for your answer because next thing you know she’s putting all her weight on your face, her milky thighs crushing your head had you moaning and arching into your back.

“already so obedient f’me, you pain slut.” karina mustered out, barely able to speak because you’re going ham on her cunt.

this was probaly the best head she’s received because she was riding your face desperately, not even caring that she was full on suffocating you, her clit continuously bumped into your nose. you heard shuffling below you but you didn’t know what was going on until you felt your cunt being rubbed onto giselle’s fat cunny. she was grinding onto your cunt like her life depended on it and it had you moaning into karina’s cunt, making her let out surprised moans before she cummed all on your face and in your mouth.

she got off your face and coo’d, she couldn’t help but take a picture of your fucked out tear-stained face covered in her cum. you were far gone by now, back arched and eyes so far back, hands trying to grind yourself into her cunt because the pleasure felt so good! your moans mixed in with giselle’s lower moans until you let out a long high pitched whine, squirting everywhere, all over yours and her thighs.

you were crying and whining because it was starting to become too much for you, trying to push giselle off your cunt. you were so brain dead you were mumbling incoherent things, only words sounding coherent were ‘it’s too much’ but you were silenced quickly by karina’s tits being pushed in your face.

“you can take it. take what i give you until i cum, whore.” giselle grunted.

she began rubbing your clit, trying to make you squirt again and overstimulate you until you squirted again with a muffled moan. giselle finally came, cumming all over your cunt before smearing it all over your cunt and inside your hole. karina got off of you, taking in how fucked out you were before telling giselle to take pic.

“such a pretty cum dump,bet you liked every last bit of it you slut.” giselle taunted, spreading your legs wide open to take a picture of your cum covered cunt.

“the fun has just got started baby, let’s see how well you take being stuffed full of our dicks.” karina smiled at the look of horror on your face. you were in for a long night.

[tammytaamm]

Can I request headcanons about how Arcane Jayce, Viktor, Steb, Vander, Silco, and Ekko would confess to his gender neutral crush please?

Arcane characters confessing to their gender neutral crush

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Viktor

- this man is so emotionally constipated

- he would repress his feelings before realizing he's got a crush on you

- he first realized he's got a crush on you when he felt your warm breath against his ear as you stood behind him analyzing some equations he made

- he was blushing like crazy

- he wouldn't confess until being sure you reciprocated those feelings, he hates rejection

- he finally got the courage to when you two were pulling an all nighter to solve some hex-problems

- would be really sly about it too

- "i think you're a great work partner and im sure you'd be a great romantic partner... I would like to test that theory"

- wouldn't look you in the eyes while saying that

- breathed THE BIGGEST sigh of relief when you agreed on a date

Steb

- you were on a mission together

- he's a very rational and professional person

- so, naturally, he wouldn't let his feelings for another enforcer be known

- that was until you were being carried by his muscular arms away from the gunfire, having been shot in the thigh and losing a lot of blood

- he skillfully dodged all the bullets and carefully rested you on the ground behind a big wall

- "no...please don't die on me right now i wouldn't be able to live with it..shit...i love you! Please...you can't leave me alone" he kept repeating these phrases as he tried to keep your wound from bleeding out and as you slipped in and out of consciousness

- after some help came you were escorted to get medical help

- he was by your side every second

- when you woke up you found him staying on a chair besides your bed

- "so you love me huh"

Vander

- you've been a regular at the last drop for god knows how many years

- he knows your order by heart, always having it ready by the time the clock strikes 9.00, the time you always come in

- you've been casually chatting and flirting for some time and he caught feelings

- as you sat down on the chair he slid your drink and a cigarette

- "the cig's on the house my dear"

- you smiled at that and went to light up your smoke when you saw something scribbled on it: 'meet me outside in 15 minutes -vander'

- you mentally made a note for that and lit up the cigarette

- after 15 minutes you found yourself at the back alley of the bar right in front of him

- "you're gonna make me feel like a kid for saying this... I like you. More than a regular customer. I like you in the way that i want to serve your favorite drink every day for the rest of my life."

- you wasted no time and went to kiss him, something you've been waiting for for years

- he reciprocated with a hungry kiss of his own

Silco

- as you take a seat in the meeting about the underground's crashing economy silco urgently announced you wink at him

- he smiles, this was an old routine you two shared

- he knew he cared about you but wouldn't admit it as he was too scared to lose you

- one of his workers sat next to you and started flirting with you, much to silco's distaste

- he knew you could handle yourself, you were one of the underground's most feared people after all, but he wasn't sure he could handle his boiling jealousy

- maybe you didn't notice the man's attempts to take you home after that meeting at first, but he sure as hell did. Subtle touches, lingering glances, before the he dropped the "Why don't you come home with me?" that was when silco stepped in.

"Sorry, i thought you said something to my lover?"

"Why don't you mind your business?" The man slurred, scoffing as he spat on the pavement. "They are my business. " Silco retorted, his gaze just as sharp as the one shot at him. The stranger took your hands, and forced you to look at him.

"Who's it gonna be, babe? Me, or him? " he asked, making sure the venom in his voice was noticeable over the jarry music playing throughout the streets of the undercity. Silco slapped his hands away from you, calling for his most trusted employees as the man got escorted away, probably to be murdered in the back of an alley.

- "Your lover, huh? " you'd ask, giving him a smirk as you leaned over the table. He gave you a sly smile as he replied; "I don't see the problem. "

- silco was silently thanking that man for giving him the chance to make a move on you

Ekko

- you two were laying down under ekko's tree base

- he's been meaning to tell you this for a while, but he's nervous

- he looked at you and admired your features for a moment "the moon is beautiful tonight isn't it", he asked, not taking his eyes off of you

- "it sure is" you said, the stars sparkling in your eyes

- he gave your hand a little squeeze to get your attention, his back leaning on the tree

- "hey look at me" he paused for a moment trying to find his words "i think i like you..."

- when he noticed your silence he quickly scrambled, his cheeks reddening

- "no no i dont think i like you i KNOW i do and it's totally okay if you dont i dont want this to affect our friendshi-" you cut him off with a kiss on his cheek, giggling

- "i like you too you idiot"

Jayce

- you were woken up in your deep sleep by a knock on the door and your name being yelled-no...slurred..?

- you carefully opened the door with a bat in your hand for extra protection against some drunk idiot but you were greeted by none other than jayce, who has clearly been drinking way more than he should've

- he threw himself in your arms and you took a step back to adjust to his weight, your bat long forgotten on the floor

- you guided him to your couch and prepared a glass of water for his next day hangover

- you handed him an extra pillow for comfort and prepared to leave him alone for the night, but he grabbed your wrist, gently enough to not cause bruising but harsh enough to make you stay put

- "you're too nice to me, y/n. I think i may be in love with you" he said before closing his eyes and letting go of your wrist before dozing off

- you stood still, not knowing what to say

- you decided to cherish this moment, not sure if he'll be sober enough to admit this ever again

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you liked this!!! Constructive criticism is always welcomed!!

[avayarising]

Deaths of Jason Todd

Part of the Batfam Death Project.

Jason has died five times. There are also a further three times when he might have arguably died. I have not found any instances of Jason visiting the afterlife without being dead.

Total time dead: 6 months, give or take a few days.

Verifiable deaths

1. Killed by the Joker in Ethiopia (Batman 1:427–428, 1988)

As we all know, Jason was killed by the Joker (Batman 1:427–428, 1988).

He went to Heaven (Green Arrow 3:7, 2001).

He woke up in his coffin six months later because something something Superboy Prime (Batman Annual 25, 2006),

and was restored from catatonia by Talia via the Lazarus Pit (also Batman Annual 25).

Time dead: probably around six months, but it’s complicated.

2. Killed by Batman to release him from demonic possession (Trinity 2:15, 2017)

Circe and Ra’s al Ghul worked together to get the Outlaws (Jason, Artemis, and Bizzaro) possessed by demons from the Pandora Pits intent on sacrificing Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman. Bruce injected a possessed Jason with potassium chloride to kill him, forcing the demon out, then restarted his heart by defibrillation.

(This comic also features Superman and Constantine climbing through a portal to hell in possessed!Jason’s mouth.)

Time dead: a minute or so.

3. Beaten to death by groblins (Dark Nights: Death Metal 7, 2021)

Jason, along with other members of the Batfamily, was overwhelmed by a swarm of ‘groblins’: mindless evil Jokerised Robins invading from the Dark Multiverse, led by the Robin King (an evil child Bruce Robin).

Shortly after that he was raised as a zombie (missing an arm) by Black Lantern Batman to continue the fight.

Jason was restored to proper life when Wonder Woman, powered by the determination of her friends, defeated the evil Batman Who Laughs and persuaded the gods to remake the multiverse as it was before the evil universes invaded the good ones.

Time dead: somewhere from quarter of an hour to an hour? Or perhaps a lot longer, if it took longer to rebuild the world. It’s always a little tricky to be sure when world remakes are involved.

4. Shot in the back by zombie Deadshot (Task Force Z 3–4, 2022)

Jason joined a team of zombies called Task Force Z, an organisation run by Harvey Dent with questionably legitimate government backing and copious quantities of Lazarus resin to bring them back every time they died. He was sent to recruit Deadshot by raising him from the dead. Apparently some fool buried Deadshot’s wrist guns with him, because the first thing Deadshot did on being resurrected was to shoot Jason in the back.

Jason was rushed back to the organisation’s facility but flatlined on the operating table.

He was revived by an injection of Lazarus resin into the brain (or possibly just the outer ear? picture is unclear), administered by one of the staff of the questionably legitimate facility.

Time dead: less than a minute.

5. Killed by the Batman of Zur-En-Arrh (Batman 3:148, 2024)

Batman’s dissociation backup personality, called Zur-En-Arrh, turned evil and downloaded itself into a robot. It fought Batman and Jason jumped in to save him; Zur took him out with a stong uppercut to the jaw, smashing his facemask, and threw him down hard, which broke his neck and killed him.

This was a setup by Bruce and Jason: Jason was wearing a special suit that injected him with Lazarus resin, so he was revived almost instantly, while having killed someone caused Zur-En-Arrh to crash.

Time dead: a few seconds.

Inferrable and arguable deaths

1. Arguably died when Joker takes over the world (Emperor Joker, 2000)

After the Joker stole reality-altering powers from Mxyzptlk and remade the universe to his liking, he placed Jason’s rotting corpse alongside Dick’s and Tim’s for a macabre poker game.

Emperor Joker was published in 2000, well before Jason was revealed to be alive in the Under the Hood storyline, published in 2006 (and later retconned to have been present in the Hush storyline in 2003), and absolutely before any writer had conceived of bringing him back to life. But given that he is supposed to have been shambling around as a zombie and then getting assassin training for a long while before that, taking the retcons into account he ought to have been alive at the time of Emperor Joker.

So while at the time of writing Jason was intended to be continuously dead, after the retcons we have to say that Joker killed Jason again, perhaps even unknowingly, to put him in his poker game.

After Joker was defeated, Mr Mxyzptlk, with Spectre!Hal’s guidance, restored the world to its previous state, which presumably also involved restoring Jason to life again.

Time dead: it’s complicated.

2. Perhaps dies in the confrontation with Bruce involving the Joker (Batman 1:650, 2006)

When he returned to Gotham as the Red Hood, Jason engineered a confrontation between himself, Batman, and the Joker. Batman ended up throwing a batarang which clipped his shoulder. (Jason had previously in this story monologued about how shoulder wounds can kill quickly from blood loss but are easily treated if you’re quick.) Then the Joker shot the explosives Jason had set and the building blew up.

Batman presumably assumes Jason is dead (Jason and Joker were right on top of a large pile of explosives – in fact, it’s pretty amazing even Bruce, who was standing a few feet away, managed to get out). So no-one is around to rescue and treat Jason. But Jason returns later with no explanation of how he survived. Either he’s returned from the dead again or he is supernaturally good at not dying.

Then again, the Joker survived too, so who knows?

Time dead: unknown, if any.

3. Perhaps dies when Dick throws him off a bridge into Gotham River (Batman: Battle for the Cowl 3, 2009)

After Jason nearly killed both Tim and Damian, during the Battle for the Cowl while Bruce was lost in time, Dick confronted him in a battle which ended up on top of a train going over a high bridge. Dick knocked Jason off the train, and they ended up on the bridge with Jason dangling off the edge.

Dick did the whole ‘Take my hand’ thing and Jason said “I’ll be seeing you sooner than you think,” before letting go and dropping into the water from a great height.

This suggests either Jason knows he’s going to come back from the dead or Jason thinks Dick is going to die soon. Dick definitely reacts as if he thinks Jason is dead, and Dick probably has a pretty generous idea of what’s survivable when it comes to heights.

Again, Jason returns later with no explanation.

Time dead: unknown, if any.

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[81pastrys]

Driving lessons?

Summary— When Carlos Sainz III is old enough for his road license, who’s better than his formula one driver of a father to teach him how to drive?

Warnings— none

A/N— Carlo is his nickname, Viviana makes a small appearance along with Lando.

Dad Carlos List

Translations— ‘Mi hija’ : daughter ‘Mi hijo’ : son ‘si, mi Amor’ : yes, my love

Carlos had feared this day for around 17 years. When his son would ultimately need to get a real drivers license and not one for a junior formula. He was acting fine, until his wife forced him to dish lessons to his son. Almost spitting image of his father. “Papa, I don’t want to crash your car!” His son argued.

“Carlo, you’ll be fine.” Carlos said calm, despite the anxiety levels rising in his body. “It’s only my Bentley mi hijo, and I’ll be riding with you.” He added. As if she knew there was something to tease her brother about, Viviana entered the room.

“Scared of driving?” She laughed. Carlos gave her a look. “What? He drives a formula 2 car, how hard can it really be?” She defended herself against her father’s look.

“I’d like to see you try.” Carlo said. The teenagers go back and forth a minute before Carlos interjects. “Papa, it’s different!”

“I know, so then let’s go.” Carlos encouraged. The boy rolled his eyes and followed his dad out the front door. “Mi hija, don’t forget your chores. Mama will be home from work soon.” The 15 year old rolled her eyes but went on to do her chores as asked.

Carlos, being as rich as he is, pulled into the reserved karting track for his son to practice driving. They swapped seats and Carlos felt his hands get clammy at the thought. His little boy all grown up and about to drive his luxury car around a karting track.

“First, I want you to adjust everything.” He sighed. “The seat, mirrors, anything.” His son did just that. Moving the seat to accommodate his tall figure and mirrors to see everything necessary. “Okay, to shift gears, press the break firmly.”

“How different is this from my racing car?” His son asked. The nerves slamming his emotions completely now. The thought was one thing, but he’s actually sitting in a driver seat.

“Not too different, you just don’t feel the constant air or adrenaline rush.” Carlos explained. The car hummed quietly as they talk about the differences more.

“Okay, press the break and shift?” Carlo confirmed. He got a nod from his father and did so, shifting into drive. “Do I change the gears?” He asked, foot still on the break.

“Not today mi hijo, that’s for another day.” Carlos chuckled. The car started rolling forward slowly. Carlo hit the gas lightly and felt the speed pick up. He stayed at a comfortable 30kph. “See it isn’t hard, just need practice.” Carlos reassured.

They drive the track until sunset when Carlos deemed it too dark. Carlos drove them home for dinner. A familiar car in the parking garage. “Wait why is Lando here?” Carlo asked.

“He is?” Carlos asked before seeing the McLaren. “Ahh Vivi probably called him for something.” Sure enough Lando got a call from the girl about being scared for her brother. Lando was always welcome, hence why he stayed for dinner.

“How was it?” He questioned. He knew Carlos had been shitting his pants over this moment for years. He asked the question casually, although Carlos saw the mischief in his friend’s eyes.

“It was so cool.” Carlo said. Lando smiled along with Carlos. “It really isn’t that different to be honest.” He admitted.

“Clear track right Carlos?” His wife had a condescending tone. Carlos did inform her of their whereabouts and the plan he had. They stuck to the plan, knowing if they didn’t they were both getting scolded.

“Si, mi amor.” Carlos responded.

I felt it right for his son to be the third.

We don’t talk about how this was posted for 6 hours without me noticing the wrong suffix was used 🤫🤫

[wlwsoccerfics]

Scary Plane(AlessiaRussoXCousinReader)

Warning: plane Crash mentioned. Panic attacks. Google translate used

Summary: you are Alessias Cousin and the newest member of Arsenal. You are about to book your first flight but you are scared.

You stood at the Airport with your teammates. You and the rest of the team would be flying to Munich. You basically were attached to Alessia, your older Cousin and pretty much the reason why you started playing football im the First place. Cause she was your Idol. You were 15 years old right now.

"you don't have to be nervous, little Russo!" Katie stated.

"yes it's totally Safe to fly." Kyra told you.

"did no one on this Team watch Yellowjackets?!" You asked and looked quite stressed. In fact you were shaking slightly from how nervous you were.

"i did watch that Show! The Football part was not very accurate." Kyra answered and shrugged her shoulders.

"screw the football Part! What about the plane crashing in the middle of nowhere and the Team having to survive our there by taking bites Out of one another?! Please If that happens and i survive...still eat me First!" You told them. All of sudden you were shaking even more, your breathing caught in your throat before you started hyperventilating.

"y/n! Hey it's okay. I got you." Your Cousin Lessi said. Not caring that she was in the middle of the Airport right now, while she sat down on the floor, pulling you into her lap. Wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"Concentrati sul mio respiro, dentro e fuori." She whispered in your ear. ( Focus on my breathing. in and out. )

"va bene, va bene." You breathed out. Focusing on her. Speaking italian and hearing Alessia speak italian did help to calm you down enough so the Panic Attack stopped. Thankfully that was the case. Cause you were about to board the plane. Renée was relieved as well. Because she didn't want to see any of her girls to be in panic and stressed out. The Team was more than just that. The Team was a Family. ( Okay. Okay. )

You still stayed attached to her side and she didn't mind. Holding your Hand. Squeezing it gently.

" Ti ho preso, cuginetto." She whispered out. Kyra giving your shoulder a gentle pat. It was nice that even though you were new to the Team and had only been a Part of it for two months, you felt very welcome and everyone was quite protective of you. ( I got you, little cousin. )

"come fai ad essere così rilassato?" You wanted to know. Biting down on your bottom lip. ( how are you so relaxed? )

" i am used to it by now! So will you!" Your Cousin let you know.

"Lessi is right, y/n!" Leah stated. Giving you a gentle smile. You smiled back a little, but still were quite nervous.

"i appreciate you all so much. Thank you for trying to keep me calm." You said. It did seem to Work better then expected cause you didn't even realize that you were already walking up the stairs of the plane.

"that's what Family is for." Caitlin told you.

"and as you already know, we are Family, kiddo!" Kim let you know and smiled.

You of course sat with Alessia on the plane. She showed you some breathing techniques to relax and held your hand when the plane took off. You did end up falling asleep twenty minutes into the flight to Munich. So that was good.

So maybe flying wasn't so bad. You even managed to stay calm when the plane landed. With some help of your older Cousin.

[tomscumdump]

TRUTH OR DARE

-18+

“YOU REALLY think I’d be the kinda guy to do that?!” tom spoke out sarcastically, me and bill giggled. we were all a bit tipsy, but it was nothing serious. tom and bill had been my best friends for years, so had gustav and georg. but they were to busy to come over tonight.

they knew everything about me. well.. almost everything. bill had gotten an idea, he grabbed an empty bottle that was behind him and set it on the ground. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“bill we aren’t in middle school anymore..” I groan to myself, he doesn’t respond. he throws me a smirk and exchanges looks with tom, my eyebrow quirks up but I don’t question it. “c’mon, dont be a loser.” I crossed my arms as an amused chuckle left my lips.

“it’s literally just the three of us, how is this gonna work?” i grin, bill rolls his eyes and sets the bottle behind him. tom adjusts his pants, slowly sitting up. “then how ‘bout… truth or dare?” tom speaks up, a smirk creeping up on his face. I gave him a glare, I saw that glint form in his eye. I knew what he was up to.

bills eyes lit up and he nodded, I knew I’d give in eventually so I agreed. tom started it off, by asking bill. “bill, truth or dare.” bill hardly ever did dare, I wasn’t gonna lie he was a pussy. he answered excitedly, “truth!” their dares and questions were boring, and this game went on for a good 10 or 15 minutes.. I ran my hand through my hair swiftly before speaking up, interrupting tom.

“ugh c’mon!! this is boring, get to the dirty details or something..” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. bill and tom stared at eachother, there was a small moment of silence before bill cleared his throat, speaking up. his tone more serious rather than playful.

“okay, y/n. truth or dare?”

my expression dropped a little, I wasn’t sure what I did but something clicked inside both of the twins. I gnawed at the inside of my cheek as he asked, I wasn’t scared or anything. just.. worried? just this one time I guess. “.. truth?” I answered hesitantly, tom rolled his eyes. bill whispered something into toms ear, making tom grin and snicker. they exchange glares and nod.

“are you a virgin?” bill speaks up suddenly, my eyes widen and my body tenses up. my eyes switch between bill and tom, their expressions the same. a awkward chuckle left my lips as I wondered what to say. “… yea?” i brush a strand of my hair behind my ear as I sit up straight, bill was gonna speak again, but tom cuts him off. “you wanna change that?” i felt my breathing get heavier.

my eyes fluttered and a small smirk creeped on my face. I couldn’t speak, I wasn’t sure if this was right to do. I mean, sex? with my childhood best friends.. bill fidgeted with his tongue ring as they waited for me to answer, the shiny piece of metal peeking at me from bills mouth..

I wasn’t thinking, my head nodded slowly. tom played with his lip ring visibly pleased with my answer. the two twins sat a little closer to me, both of them on each side of me on the couch. i felt toms hand move up on my thigh, bills hand moving my head to face him.

it was silent, just the sounds of us breathing. it wasn’t awkward though, I liked it. bills hand rested on my cheek, bill spoke up his voice smooth and low. “.. you sure?” he grinned, I couldn’t speak.. toms hand stroking up and down my thigh was sending shivers throughout my body. but I knew what I wanted, I nodded yes.

bill wasted no time leaning in and locking our lips together, my hands flew to his face. cupping his cheeks with my hands as we made out, his cold tongue piercing grazing my lips begging for an entrance. I parted my lips, our tongues crashing with eachother. I could feel toms eyes on us as we made out filled with desire and lust.

I pulled away for a breath, a string of our mixed saliva connecting me and bills lips together. tom then grabbed my jaw harshly, pulling my face to his as his lips smashed to mine. I didn’t mind it though, his lip piercing stung for a second against my lips but I sorta liked the feeling. bill moved my hair out of the way as me and tom made out, showing off the fresh and pure skin of my neck. he leant down, his lips marking me all over. his teeth biting down gently, then his tongue licking the bite mark, followed along with him planting a soft kiss.

I let out soft whines and moans into the kiss with tom, I could feel him smirk against my lips. the twins eventually started to get a bit more hasty, bill forced me out of the kiss with tom by grabbing my jaw making me face him. my neck was now exposed to tom, the way toms lips latched onto my neck felt just as good as bills. my eyes fluttered shut as a dragged out whine left my lips, bill quickly shut me up by kissing me. of course I kissed back, who wouldn’t?

I then felt toms hand reach the button of my shorts, I wanted him all over me. I pulled away from the kiss, me and bill panting. I slid off my shorts, leaving me in my black tank top and laced panties. tom chuckled at the sight, he grasped the hem of my panties. lifting them up then letting them go, making a snap noise against my skin. I bit my lip and giggled, he leaned in close and planted a kiss on my neck before speaking in a low tone. “.. wore this for us, doll?” I nodded lazily and whined a little, I looked over at bill and saw him gnawing at his lip.

tom leaned down, kissing the right side of my neck as bill went for the left side. I threw my head back, exposing more parts of my neck. I felt toms fingertips graze from my collarbone down to my lower abdomen, I whined at the feeling. his hand quickly pulled my panties to the side, his middle finger collecting my wetness then rubbing it on my clit, sending a jolt throughout my body.

a gasp of ecstasy flows out my parted lips, my chest heaving as i mutter out loud. “ffffuck..” I could feel toms smirk against my neck. bill let out a breathy chuckle as his lengthy cold hands roamed my body.

my mind was racing as it all felt surreal, I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter as tom circled painfully slow circles on my clit. whereas bill was teasing his middle finger in and out of my tight hole. my eyes fluttered as bill suddenly shoved his entire finger in, curling it up slightly as the bed of his finger rubbed that spongey sensitive spot inside of me.

his paced quickened as tom began picking up his pace as-well, my breathing became heavier as the pleasure was hitting me like a bus. a groan poured out my lips as bill inserted another finger, my eyes screwing shut as tom forced my eyes on his, grasping my jaw as he smashed his lips onto mine.

i let out whines and muffled moans into the kiss, as i felt a knot begin to build up in my lower abdomen. my thighs desperately tried to close, but bill held them open with his free hand.

“ohh!— right there bill, ngh cmon!” he seemed amused at my words, he chuckled as he placed hot opened mouth kisses along my inner thigh. he slammed his fingers inside me, curling them against that sweet spot. causing my climax to hit me harshly, a broken squeal pours out my mouth as I grasped the edge of the couch I was slowly slipping off of.

bill slid his fingers out, licking them clean then kissing me passionately muttering between kisses. “fuck- you taste, sho good baby..” we both pull away from the kiss for a second for air. tom caressed my cheek gently as he spoke, his voice the complete opposite of the gentle touch he was giving me.

“you gonna lemme fuck u pretty girl?” I don’t know why he was asking like it was a question, the obvious answer was going to be duh. I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek as they both started taking off their clothes, it felt wrong to look but I couldn’t look away.

bill was skinny and toned, tom was muscular and god was he hot.. and holy shit their dicks were huge.

I swallowed hardly as bill slapped his leaking tip on my cheek, I giggle softly as he slips his thumb inside my mouth, opening my mouth slowly as his tip slips in replacing his now slick thumb.

I was to distracted sucking bills dick to realize how tom was grazing his tip up and down my slick slit, as bill found his pace I glanced at tom who was spreading me open, sliding into me slowly but I could tell how impatient he was.

I gagged and groaned against bills dick, earning a low groan out of him as he caressed and played with my hair, praising me with sweet hypnotizing words which made my heart flutter.

“m-mhm— doing so good baby..” I let out a soft hum as tom slid his length fully into me, my attention turning to him. I panted as he found a steady pace, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as his tip was hitting all the right spots. “look at you, taking this cock like the slut you are..” tom muttered, pressing his palm on my lower abdomen feeling himself bulge in and out of me slowly.

I slid bills cock out my mouth for a breath as I moaned, throwing my head back stroking bill as my movements faltered here and there due to the immense pleasure I was feeling right now.

toms hand moved down to my core, rubbing quick but sensual circles on my sensitive bud. his pace began to pick up as that familiar knot began to form again, I bit my lip as moans poured out my mouth.

bill could see I was getting close as I clawed at the edge of the couch, he chuckled as he muttered lowly shoving his cock back into my mouth. “you look so cute when your about to cum..” I screwed my eyes shut as i whined against him.

tom chuckled at bills words, wiping a small tear that trickled down my cheek. “you gonna come all over this cock baby..?” he panted, thrusting in and out of me as I groaned, nodded yes as bill held my head still, thrusting his twitching cock into my mouth as he started whimpering softly.

tom picked up his pace aswell, his thrusting getting more rough and sloppy as he angled his hips just right setting me off. I desperately moaned against bills cock as I wrapped my legs around toms waist, pulling him impossibly close as I clenched and came all on his dick.

and not soon after bill muttered sweet nothings as his voice was shaky, shoving his cock deep down my throat as I gagged, letting out a groan as his warm load shot down my throat. I swallowed his sweet cum without any hesitation, bill was slick with sweat as he panted caressing my check gently, my mouth now empty as moans and slurred curses escaping my lips.

tom then pulled out, throwing his head back as he desperately stroked his cock releasing all over my stomach as I bit my lip, god that was hot..

the room was humid and the sound of our heavy breathing filled the room, I let out a weak whine as I sat up softly, bill sitting down next to me and tom sat on the other side. tom broke the silence as bill planted a sweet kiss on my cheek.

“well. now I can’t make fun of you for being a virgin.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮

daddy’s homeeee ! ha no literally tho guys what the comeback ?!? sorry if this is sloppy I wrote this at like 3am , hope yall enjoy thiss !! I will definitely be more active now :3 also , if yall see any spelling mistakes no u didn’t . 😐😐

[mirisss]

SKZ reaction to their gf being in a car crash

SKZ OT8 x female! reader

SKZ reaction to their girlfriend being in a car crash and taking care of her

Thank you for the request, hope you like it! 

Wordcount ≈ 1.5k

Warnings: Car crash, broken leg, bruises, a little angsty, mentioning of anxiety, 

Part 2

(Y/n)’s POV

“Hey, I’m going to be running a bit late. I have a bit left that I need to do on this project, so I’ll order some food and eat here,” “Are you sure? How late do you think you’ll have to stay?” “I’m not sure, Binnie, I think I need another 3 or 4 hours before I’m done,” “Mmm, okay, do you want some of us to come and pick you up?” “No, I’ll be fine and besides you guys have had a long day, I’ll text you guys when I leave,” “Alright, be careful,” “Love you,” “Love you, too,” 

After hanging up the call with Changbin, I got back to working on my project. If I did this project great then I could be in for a promotion at work. And if I got this promotion, my life as the girlfriend of a very successful kpop group would be a bit easier. With this promotion, I could go with them on tours, at least more than one stop. So I had to get it. I needed it. I ordered some food and got back to work, most of my colleagues had left the building leaving me and a handful of others behind. 

3 hours and 25 minutes later, I was finally finished. I submitted my project, packed up my things, sent a text to Seungmin as he was the last person I texted with, letting him now that I was leaving the building. I went down to the garage and got into my car. Seungmin responded as I started the car, saying he and all the others missed me and were waiting. 

I began driving, I couldn’t wait to get home to my boyfriends. I was exhausted and missed their embraces. I came to a stop light, the streets were surprisingly empty, even at this late hour the streets were usually filled with cars. The light turned green and I began driving, suddenly I noticed headlights of another car approaching from my left, the car was speeding, seemingly out of control, I realized that no matter what I did, we would collide, still I tried to step on my gas hoping the other car would miss me. The last thing I remember was a loud bang and feeling pain. 

Third Person POV

Over at the SKZ dorm, the boys were waiting eagerly for (Y/n) to come home. They had prepared snacks, blankets, and a movie. All of them ready for a cuddly movie night. They kept checking their phones and out the windows, expecitng to see either a call, a text, or (Y/n)’s car. Yet no matter how many times they checked they found nothing. 

“It’s been 30 minutes since she texted, it only takes 15 minutes here, and that’s on days when the traffic is bad,” Minho noted, concern evident on his face, his body was restless. Changbin was pacing around the room, feeling like he should have gone and picked her up even if she said it wasn’t necessary. “I’ll try calling her,” Hyunjin said as he held the phone up to his ear, whishing she would pick up, however he was disappointed as he was met with (Y/n)’s voice mail. 

“Her phone could be dead and she’s just buying snacks,” Han said, trying to be hopeful, yet his hands were shaking, his breathing irregular, anxiety taking over his body as he feared the worst had happened. “Yeah, she’s gonna come any second now, I feel it,” Felix said, he sat beside Han, trying to find comfort in his bandmate and boyfriend. Jeongin stood by the window, staring down at each passing car, analyzing each one to try and find the one belonging to his dear girlfriend. 

Another 30 minutes passed by, an hour since (Y/n) said she would be coming home. Yet there was no sign of her. A few minutes more passed by when Chan received a call from an unknown number, he answered it, half expecting it to be from a fan who had managed to get a hold of his number. He was surprised that the one on the other line was a doctor, or at least someone working at the hospital. 

“Hello, is this Bang Chan?” “Yes, who is this?” “I am calling from the hospital, your girlfriend (L/n) (Y/n) has been in an accident,” “WHAT?” The other boys all stood up, shaking with fear and worry at Chan’s shout. “There was a car accident, miss (L/n) is still being examined, could you come over to the hospital?” “Of course, I’ll, or we’ll be there as soon as we can,” “Only her boyfriend will be allowed inside the room,” Chan gave an awkward forced chuckled. “You see we’re in a poly relationship,” “Oh, I’m so sorry, of course all of you will be allowed inside then,” 

Chan hung up and explained to the other’s, they all left the dorm within a minute. Hearts racing, minds expecting the worst. Was she badly hurt? Was she even alive? Would she be okay? When they arrived at the hospital they all rushed to the front desk, asking for (Y/n). As they came upon the door that lead them to the room (Y/n) was in, a doctor just stepped out of it. “Excuse me, is (L/n) (Y/n), in there?” “Yes, might you be her boyfriends?” “Yes, doctor,” “She just woke up, she’s a bit shaken but she’ll be fine,” “How badly hurt is she?” “Considering the circumstances, not bad at all. She has a broken leg and some bruises over majority of her body, but other than that, she is physically fine, mentally though might be another story. First and foremost, she needs support from those who love her,” The doctor gave the boys a kind smile before she left, allowing the boys to step inside. 

“(Y/n), we were so worried,” Jisung began crying the second he layed eyes on her, the cast on her leg, the bruises on her arms and even her face, he just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. (Y/n) too began crying as she saw the worry and tears on her boyfriends’ faces. “I’m sorry,” “No, don’t apologize, darling, it wasn’t your fault,” Minho wiped away some of the tears that stained the girls cheek, his smile only causing her to cry more. Relieved to finally be within their presence again, close to the people she loves and feel safe with. 

2 hours later, (Y/n) was allowed to go home as the doctors had examined her and ruled out a concussion and other injuries. Bang Chan was given a long list of things that (Y/n) wasn’t allowed to do for a few days and how to care for her leg. Changbin had sent an email to (Y/n)’s boss, letting them know of the accident and that (Y/n) wouldn’t be able to work for 2 weeks, and after those 2 weeks she would only be able to work from home for another 2-3 weeks. 

(Y/n) was given crutches to use for moving around, she struggled a bit with them as she wasn’t used to it. In the end, to get out to the car, Felix and Seungmin ended up acting as her crutches, half carrying her. Jeongin sat beside (Y/n) in the car, holding her hand as she seemed a bit stressed over the situation. He could only imagine, she was just in an accident and now she had to go in a car again. “Hey, you’re okay, we’re here with you. Want me to sing to you?” (Y/n) couldn’t give a verbal answer but she simply nodded her head and squeezed his hand. 

Jeongin began singing lowly, the rest of the boys soon followed and joined in on singing, all to help (Y/n) calm down. (Y/n) closed her eyes and focused on the sweet voices of her boyfriends, the warmth they brought her overpowered her fear from the accident. Soon enough she felt her heart slow down and her breathing followed right after. Relaxation and safety soon consumed her mind as she focused on the singing. Before she knew it, the car was parked, they were home. The boys helped her out of the car and supported her all the way to their dorm. 

“Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ve got you,” Hyunjin said as he handed her some of the snacks they had prepared earlier. “I’m so happy I have all of you,” “We’re happy to have you too,” Felix answered. And so, the nine lovers spent the night cuddled up on the couch, finding safety in one another, happy that they get to experience tomorrow together.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Hey! It's been a while!! Hows everything??

Not too shabby. Watched Thunderbolts today so I'm back on my Bucky bullshit.

You'd worked on his campaign because they wanted you to. You were good at grassroots and good at maneuvering. Being at the right place at the right time... and. Well. It helped that compared to the rest of hey crypt keepers on the hill you knew how to get a tag trending and how to manipulate social media without bots.

"Digital Native" was what they told Bucky you were. And it was a term that still made you roll your eyes so hard you could see your brain. Especially when you remembered the old days of Chat rooms and un moderated forums. You were too old to be a "Digital Native" but then to a 65 year old man any unmarried woman without noticeable gray hair and grandkids looked the same age.

And now- Somehow you were listening to a very animated argument in Russian and trying to figure out how to turn a band of store brand heroes into an actual... Team.

"Any ideas?" Bucky asked, leaning on the table next to you.

You exhale slowly and push your glasses up, "A few to-" a crash cut you off and you wince picking your feet up out of a spreading puddle of orange soda and tuck them up under you, "two. I have two. For now."

"Well," He said, "Let's get to it. If anyone can make this shit fly you can."

"That's what you pay me for, so I hope so."

Bucky snorted and knocked on the table, leaving you to it. Oddly comforted by your presence. Not unflappable or infallible- he had no idea what you did before you did this. But he knew you were good at it. In another life you'd probably have made a pretty good spy. An eye for detail and an ear for info. Patterns and trends. You saw it all coming around the corner somehow.

Hopefully you could make this work.

If you could make people believe he could be a politician, you could make people believe in them.

____________

"But what does she do?" Yelena asked peering into the little office.

"Public relations and social media right now," Bucky answered tiredly, "getting ahead of the negative press."

"That's a full time gig," Ava scoffed, "she sleep?"

"Sometimes. Between pots of coffee and shitty new think pieces." Bucky sighed, feeling a little twinge of guilt. It's too much for one person. But there was too much sensitive information for more than one.

A violent yawn punctuated the statement and you stood up, picking a red leather leash off the desk, making kissy noises into the corner.

"Has she lost her mind?" Yelena hissed.

"I let her bring her dog," Bucky shrugged, snorting when the Russian cooed at the black and white lap dog you hooked the leash to.

"Time for a walk?" Bucky asked when the door swung open and you blinked up at the three of them.

You nod, "Cow probably needed a break and I needed to just not stare at a screen for like 15 minutes."

"Cow?" Ava asked.

You grin and shrug, "At least she's got the spots."

[4ranghaes]

kim leehan x reader [fluff, gender neutral!reader]

a/n - this is purely self indulgent cause i had my first mid term today and i walked home by myself and i just would have loved leehan to come pick me up ! enjoy x

10:46 - you sighed, rolling your shoulders as you walked to the campus exit. you always took the back way to and from school, it took only 5 minutes to get home from there as opposed to the 15 minutes from the main gate.

greeting the security guard who stood by the entrance every morning, you moved to put on your headphones before seeing an all too familiar figure waiting to pass by an oncoming car.

“oh!” he exclaimed, “you’re done!”

you burst out in a smile, leehan doing the same, his eyes crinkling into half moons, his pouty lips moving to reveal his teeth.

“donghyun-ah,” you said, unable to hide the smile as you looked around, making sure there was no one to see him, “what are you doing here?!”

“i came to pick you up after your exam!” he exclaimed, “you wouldn’t let me see you while you were busy studying, so i thought i’d finally come and see you afterwards instead.”

you pouted, the gesture was so sweet you could’ve cried. you crashed into your boyfriend’s arms as he laughed, patting your back.

“you worked so hard,” he whispered, stroking the back of your hair. “here. present!”

your eyes widened as you pulled away, leehan digging into his pocket to pull out said present. he removed his hand to reveal, wrapped around his first finger, a little keychain, an oval resin creation filled with blue glitter and a singular fish.

you gasped, “it’s so cute!”

“right?” leehan smiled proudly, “i passed a trinket shop on the way here and thought you might like it. bought myself a matching one too.”

you smiled, leaning up to peck his lips, taking the keychain from him as you did, “thank you, fish prince. it’ll be my good luck charm from now on.”

he nodded with a small proud smile, intertwining your hands as you began to walk home. “how many exams do you have left now?”

you sighed, “that was only the first. its only midterms though so i have four left. at the end of the year i have 10! two for each subject.”

leehan winced, patting your back, “well, at least now you have hanlee.”

“hanlee?” you repeated staring at your boyfriend’s unmoving face.

“that’s the fish’s name,” he added, almost deadly seriously.

you nodded, humming in content agreement as you laughed to yourself about your boyfriend’s oddness. he may be an oddball but at least he was your oddball.

“are we still on to go to the aquarium on sunday?” he asked, as you rested your head on his shoulder, his arm moving to wrap around you.

you nodded, moving to look up at him, brushing his long hair out his face, “of course. and i expect to be there for at least 6 hours, okay? pull out your best facts.”

he just grinned with a nod.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

pleaseee kisses prompts 14, 15, and 33 with patrick zweig 🙏🫠

Sure :D

Prompts: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it; a kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished; a fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

Warnings: Fluff; flirty Patrick; fake dating; smooches

Summary: Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.

"Would you cut it out?"

"No." Patrick's refusal was muffled as he chowed down on another two mini crab cakes. You glanced around nervously, concerned that anyone you knew might see your plus one shoving every hors d'oeuvre that he could get his hands on into his mouth.

Finding your plus one to a wedding at the last minute on Tinder had been dicey, sure, but you couldn't have anticipated this.

The trade was straightforward: Patrick was your plus one to your friend's wedding, and you let Patrick shower at your place and crash at yours (or cover the cost of a motel for the night—he was cool with either).

But now, you were considering cutting ties early. If Patrick kept this up, then it defeated the whole fricking purpose of having him go with you in the first place. You didn't think that anything could be more embarrassing than showing up to a wedding alone while your ex was attending with his new girlfriend, but the way Patrick was stuffing his face was quickly proving you wrong.

"Seriously," You hissed, leaning in and elbowing him in the side, "You're either gonna choke, or I'm going to choke you."

Patrick grinned as he chewed, dusting off his fingers.

"Okay," He agreed before chasing the swallow with a swig of his beer. "Okay, you're right. I'll slow it down."

"Thank you."

"Need to save room for dinner, anyway. And cake. Are people still doing cake at weddings?"

"Sometimes."

"You think they will?"

"Honestly, they seem more like a dessert bar couple. They'll probably have a little cake for themselves."

"Explains why I haven't seen one." He folded his arms on the high table, glancing around the others mingling at cocktail hour. "Seen the ex yet?"

"No."

"You should've shown me a picture, I could keep an eye out for him, too."

"Better if you don't know what he looks like. Then you can be genuinely surprised if I introduce you."

"You don't trust my acting abilities?"

"With all due respect, you could be Ted Bundy 2.0 for all I know."

"Fake cast and missing puppy story not included."

You smiled in spite of yourself, and Patrick grinned.

"Tell me about yourself," He urged.

"What for?"

"Gotta pass the time somehow—especially if you're going to poo-poo me from the pu pu platter."

"There isn't a pu pu platter in sight."

"Can you just appreciate the joke?"

"It was a fine joke."

"C'mon. I mean, you're funny, you're gorgeous," He raised his hand, waving toward you, "Why does someone like you need to surf Tinder to find a plus one?"

You smiled, looking down at your drink.

"First of all, thank you."

"Anytime."

"Second of all...I don't know, since my ex left me I've been focusing on myself."

"No hoe phase?"

"Hoe—ly shit, you seriously talk to people you don't know like that?" You scoffed.

"I just mean, you know. Sometimes after a breakup, you wanna fuck around a little. Nothing wrong with that. It would explain why you're on Tinder."

"Oh? Is that you're on Tinder?"

"Honestly? No."

"Why, then?"

Patrick shrugged. "I like sex and sometimes I have trouble finding somewhere to sleep."

"How's that working?"

"Better than you'd think."

"Does the sex thing always happen?"

"Not always. I'm happy to crash on a couch."

"Mm."

"Not that I mind it when it happens. Thanks for answering my question, by the way."

"What do you mean?"

"About the hoe phase. You just said 'the sex thing' like it's a creature from the black lagoon."

"I did not—" You began to wind up for the next round of argument, but were cut off by the sound of your name being called. You winced, steeling yourself and urging, "Don't look."

"That the ex?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," Patrick stood up straighter, straightening his jacket. "Showtime."

"You sound way too excited—"

"Hey!" Your ex spoke up behind you, and you slapped a smile on, wheeling around and greeting, "Jeremy, hi!"

"How's it going?" Jeremy began to lean in for a hug, but went still when Patrick curled his arm around your waist. Your stomach flipped at the gesture, keeping your eyes carefully trained on Jeremy's face.

"It's going great, how are you?"

"It's good, it's good."

"Where's Francesca?"

"Oh, she's grabbing a drink."

"Awesome."

"You want another one, baby?"

Patrick's question threw you for a loop for a second, but you shook your head, smiling.

"I'm good, hon, but thanks."

"I don't think we've—met?" Jeremy's voice tipped up, and you had to fight off a laugh.

"I don't think you have. Jeremy, this is Patrick."

"Hi."

You watched Jeremy hold his hand out to shake, but Patrick just tightened his grip on your hip, drawing you a little closer as he offered, "Nice to meet you."

Jeremy's smile faltered as he drew his hand back, tucking it into his pocket.

"You two been together long?"

"Oh, gosh, a few months," You flubbed.

"How'd you, uh—How'd you meet?"

"At a match. I'm a tennis player."

"Oh! You any good?" Jeremy asked.

"He's the best," You answered without missing a beat.

Patrick chuckled softly, nose nudging against your cheek. "You're gonna make me blush, sweetie."

"Good," You smiled at him. A thrill shot through you as Patrick's eyes dipped to your mouth, and before you knew it, he was leaning in for a gentle kiss. You let your eyes slip closed, your lips working tenderly against his. Patrick's hand slid from your hip, sliding lower and palming your ass. You drew back, giving Patrick a warning look before turning to look at Jeremy again as he cleared his throat.

"I should go find Francesca."

"Sure! It was great seeing you."

"You, too—and nice meeting you, Patrick."

"Charmed," Patrick cooed. The two of you watched him turn, disappearing into the crowd.

"...That was good, right?"

"Yeah, it was good...Patrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Get your hand off of my ass."

"Sure." He gave it a pat before turning back to the table, eyeing a passing server's tray. "Is that shrimp cocktail?"

--

"That wasn't so bad."

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Little bit of both." Patrick leaned against your front hall wall. You took him in for a moment, taking in his loose tie, and his jacket where he was holding it over his shoulder.

"I think we were very convincing, so," You tipped your head from side to side. "You're right. It wasn't so bad. Thank you."

"Hey, sure. You can just venmo me."

"What?"

"For the motel."

"Oh! Oh, of course." You fished into your purse for your phone, biting your lip. To be honest, you'd been rethinking that particular part of the plan all evening. You hated to admit it, but Patrick was gorgeous, and had been so goddamn charming. He'd been funny, had made conversation with the other guests at your table, and he'd been perfectly affectionate—kisses on the cheek, the lips; a hand on your back, your waist. A time or two, he'd gazed into your eyes in a way that had felt so sincere and...Real.

Sure, he'd driven you nuts at the beginning of the evening, but he had grown on you.

"Um," You spoke up. "I was, uh...I was thinking."

"What about?"

"About the sex...Thing." You glanced nervously toward Patrick just in time to see his expression melt into flirty intrigue.

"Oh yeah?" He goaded. "What about it?"

You couldn't just come out and say it, right? You set your phone down on the counter and strode toward Patrick before you could talk yourself out of it. You grasped his rough cheeks, drawing him in for a kiss. He went without hesitation, dropping his jacket and curling his arms around you. You groaned softly, sliding a hand up into his hair and letting him steer you back against the wall. You parted your lips as Patrick's tongue probed them gently, his leg slotting between yours and rocking it back and forth.

You rolled your hips down against it, whining softly against his lips as his hands skimmed over your body. Patrick began to draw away, but you leaned up, catching hold of his lower lip with your teeth and giving it a rough bite. His hips jolted against yours, groaning low in his throat as you soothingly slipped your tongue along the skin.

"Do you still want me to Venmo you?" You asked.

"Not really. You still want me to crash on the couch?"

You hummed, pretending to contemplate before you let your hand slide from his curls to his neck.

"How about we start on the couch."

[sorrowsofsilence]

Noah x reader

Reader is Noah’s gf and she’s been dealing with a lot of stress and anger from her job. Noah and the guys decide to take her to a Rage Room so that she can destress by destroying the room. She ends up breaking down and Noah takes her back home. He helps her get through her emotional breakdown.

pieces of you • n.s

pairing: noah sebastian x fem!reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: none really, just angsty. mentions of anger, frustration, and violence.

note: thank you for this idea lacy! first written work in a while, I feel rusty ;-; lol

THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

+

You yelled as loudly as you could, your breath misting the plastic face shield as you hurled the bat at the wooden wall, leaving an impression on the already damaged drywall.

Screaming in frustration and anger, you smashed another section of the wall, then drove a powerful kick against it with the last bit of strength you had.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you then surveyed the damage around you, your chest and shoulders heaving at the destruction. It felt so good, you didn’t even realize how much you needed it, until you turned to face Noah and the boys. Each stood there in apprehension, their overalls barely damaged, despite the 15 minutes you all had in the room.

Noah glanced over at Nick, giving the drummer a nervous smile who then turned to Nicholas and Jolly, before turning back to you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.

Instead, he took a hesitant step forward, his eyes filled with worry.

Without warning, the weight of everything came crashing on you. The countless hours spent in your cubicle under the harsh neon lights, the pointless arguments with your boss and co-workers, the endless pile of unread emails; all of it monumental- all of it a big pile of bullshit. A wave of despair swept over you, and despite your best efforts to keep them at bay, tears finally spilled down your cheeks.

You tossed the bat onto the ground, before ripping off the face shield, sucking in the air around you. It almost tasted like burdened freedom.

Noah’s hands reached up to hold either side of your face, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as you cried. He didn't say anything for a while as he pulled you into his shoulder, allowing you to cry on his shoulder. None of them did.

But when Noah finally did speak up, his voice was hushed and gentle against your ear.

"Let's go home," he murmured into your hair, lips brushing the skin gently as you nodded, wiping your cheeks with your sleeve.

He bid a brief goodbye to the boys as he took you back to the car, tucking your trembling form into the passenger seat. Tears came down harder as he clipped in your seatbelt, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

"Easy," he murmured, as if he knew.

He climbed into the driver's seat, taking hold of the wheel with a steady grip; and as you pulled out of the destructive sanctuary, you felt a strange sense of relief, even through the anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” You coughed, saliva forming in your mouth from the tears. You no longer cared about the mascara staining your eyelids as you rubbed your eyes with your palms, feeling another scream threaten to spill from your lungs.

"No, don't do that," Noah said, reaching a hand to catch your wrist in a firm grip, gently prying it from your face.

His voice was steady, a stark contrast against the whirlpool of emotions you were drowning in. "Don't start blaming yourself for what's happening. Nothing’s wrong with you."

You bit your lip, your eyes swollen from the relentless tears. "But..."

"But nothing," he cut you off, placing his hand on your thigh as his eyes remained forward. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, "It's ok to break down. It's ok to feel overwhelmed. It’s ok to feel angry. It's not ok to beat yourself up over it."

You sniffed loudly, the words barely audible over the growling engine, but they were clear enough. They sunk in, his words winding their way through the chaos and helping silence it, even if only for a moment.

"You're under a lot of stress. You're human. We break. We fall. But we also rebuild ourselves. It's okay to let out your emotions."

With your fists clenched, you tensed every muscle in frustration, then relaxed, sinking into the faux leather.

“I hate my job. I hate it so much. They expect so much from me, and I’m never good enough,” You coughed again, tears welling with each confession of your feelings, “Even when I try my best, it’s never enough.”

"It's okay—" Noah began, but you cut him off with a hard glare.

“No, it's not!" You exploded, turning to face him. "It's not okay! This job is sucking the life out of me and I can't take it anymore!"

Noah drew in a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I know," he said softly, “I know…”

“I can’t do it anymore. I’m so tired.” You hung your head, staring at your shoes through blurred vision as you began picking at your sleeves.

Noah listened, his attention flickering momentarily from the road to your tear-streaked face and back again. He didn't interrupt, just let you spill your thoughts like a leaking faucet into the empty air of the car cabin. The words sounded bitter, full of frustration and so raw that they seemed to scrape against your throat on their way out.

"Sometimes," he began slowly, eyes focused on the road as he turned into the parking lot of your shared apartment, "we find ourselves stuck at a place or a point in our lives where we're not happy. We feel trapped because we have been conditioned to believe it's either that or nothing."

He switched off the car and finally turned to you, gently reaching over to remove a strand of hair that had gotten stuck in your mouth.

"But it's not true, you know? This..." He waved his free hand for emphasis, "...this isn't everything. It’s just a part of your life that isn’t working out the way you'd hoped."

You drew in a shaky breath, your lips quivering as you wiped your cheeks once more, leaving the skin tender. “I’m stuck, Noah.”

"You have other options. We'll find them, together. You're smart, determined, and...and I've never seen anyone work as hard as you do," Noah said. His chocolate eyes stared at you intensely, reflecting the pale glow of the streetlights filtering through the car window.

You felt your heart swell against the barrage of bitterness you'd been wading through.

"But it feels like I can't…” Your voice cracked mid-sentence as you stared out the window.

"No," he shook his head gently, cupping your face with his inked hands. His thumbs wiped away the remnants of your tears on your cheeks one more time.

"That's just your perspective right now because you're overwhelmed and exhausted. It won’t be like that forever.”

"I just don't see a way out," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.

"No one ever does when they're in the thick of it," he replied softly. His eyes bore into yours with a warmth and empathy that made your chest ache. "But believe me when I say, you'll find your way."

His words hung in the cold air of the car like icicles, their points sharp as daggers but they provided an odd sense of comfort that curled and wrapped itself around your heart. A warm hand found its place around yours, as Noah gave your fingers a gently reassuring squeeze, his thumb methodically rubbing circles against your knuckles.

“C’mere.” The brunette then patted his lap, pushing his seat back to make room for you.

You gave him a pathetic smile, “There is not enough room. You’re too tall.”

"Then it's a good thing I’m flexible," Noah chuckled softly, the sound seeming to slice through the tense air in the car as he maneuvered into a comfortable position.

With a bit of avoiding the gear stick and giggles between sniffles, he pulled you onto his lap. You nestled your face into his neck, the familiar scent of Noah’s cologne offering even more comfort. He wrapped his arms around your back, holding you close to his body. Your hands found their way to his hoodie, fingers instinctively searching for the subtle frays and rips on the cotton as you’d done hundreds of times before. It was a soothing sort of familiarity, grounding you to the reality outside of your miseries.

He peppered soft kisses to the top of your head as you snuggled into him.

For the first time in months, you felt your tension melt away, replaced by a strange peacefulness. It was far away from normal, but it was better.

“Thank you for taking me to the rage room.” You sniffed, clinging onto his sweater as he rubbed circles up your back.

"No problem," he murmured, squeezing you a little tighter. Then he let out a soft laugh, his chest rumbling beneath you. "You admittedly looked pretty badass swinging that bat around. I fear the boys know to never mess with you now."

You snorted, the corner of your mouth curving upwards, despite the tears still threatening to come back. "I felt like I was in a movie or something."

"And you did great," Noah assured you, his words striking a chord within you. He didn’t just mean the rage room. He meant that you were doing great, despite everything life was throwing at you.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you allowed yourself to find some comfort in Noah's praise and in his arms. There was something so profoundly comforting about being held by him.

“Can we stay here for a while? Like this?” You asked quietly.

He hummed, nodding slowly as he squeezed you, “For as long as you need princess.”

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