#i may be drunk on rum and cokes but this is the best night of my life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holllandtrash · 2 years ago

Text

may the best man win | lando norris, pierre gasly

pairing: lando norris x reader, pierre gasly x reader part 7 (final part) to better left unsaid (the better series)

time passes, feelings changes and sometimes they grow stronger. do you attempt to return to the history you know, to what once made you feel comfortable? is it even possible for you to love again, but more importantly, are you ready to be loved?

word count: 6.6k tags: heartbreak lmao but its not all heartbreak, or is it idk all i know is im team max

Two Months Later

Pierre should have been ecstatic as he crossed the finish line in Abu Dhabi. It was his last lap, his last race of the year. He finished in the top ten in the driver standings, ahead of his team mate, which was something he should have been proud of, and he was.

He was also proud of the fight he put in this season, especially when the points became close, specifically with Lando. The two of them spent the better part of these last two months battling it out for the same finishing positions.

But competition with the British driver had been tense ever since Monza. While it was unspoken, they both took their frustrations out on the track. Both of them blamed the other for why you weren’t there.

Fans had picked up on it. Noticing that the two of them didn’t interact as much as they used to. There were no inside jokes shared in the paddock. They barely glanced at each other if they had press conferences lined up. There was a clear line drawn between them and that line was you.

Pierre told himself that you were at home watching the races, that you were still cheering him on, but there was no way of telling if that was true or not.

He had thought about inviting you to the last race of the season, just out of kindness, but he didn’t want to push you further away. You needed time.

So there was no one to congratulate him at the end of his last race. No one to drive back to the hotel with and reminisce about the season's highlights and no one to accompany him to the club where everyone was celebrating. It didn’t help that the girlfriends of other drivers were all there as well and Pierre just had to smile and greet them, pretending he wasn’t jealous even though all he wanted was you at his side.

Pierre stepped up to the bar. He’d be blind not to notice the tall blonde girl sitting on the stool wearing a tight black dress that made her legs look even longer. She eyed Pierre up as he approached, a coy smile on her face.

Pierre was polite, he smiled and nodded. She could have been a fan of motorsport for all he knew, he wasn’t going to be a prick. He rested his forearms against the surface of the bar and when the bartender approached, Pierre ordered a rum and coke. He didn’t need anything fancy tonight, he just wanted to get drunk.

The girl next to him adjusted herself on the seat, nearly slipping off. Pierre glanced in her direction, strictly out of concern, “You alright?”

She let out a breath of a chuckle, “Yeah, all good. Just-” she glanced around, but Pierre knew these tactics, he was familiar with them. “-just waiting for a friend, but I think I may have been ditched.”

Pierre hummed, turning his attention to the bar again, tapping his fingers against the counter as he waited. It was rum and coke. How long did it take?

He froze when he felt a freshly manicured hand rest on his arm. He glanced at the contact, trying not to let the distaste show, but why was this girl touching him?

Since you left him in Monza, Pierre hadn’t even bothered looking at another girl. He’d go out with his friends and other drivers, but he’d always end up back at his hotel room alone. He no longer cared about the chase, he didn’t care about getting in a quick fuck.

If he was being honest, there were dozens of nights where Pierre hovered his thumb over your contact name, debating calling you after a long day. He wanted to hear your voice, even if it was just for a second, even if you didn’t answer and he was left with your voicemail, he just wanted to hear you.

But he never called. He didn’t text. Didn’t even like any of your photos on instagram, giving you the space that he knew you needed. Granted, you made it clear it was Lando you were trying to distance yourself from, but Pierre knew that trying to interfere while you were in the process of moving on wouldn’t be beneficial.

So he waited, in the hopes that you would call. Or text. Or like one of his fucking tweets, literally anything. Anything to show that you still cared. That you weren’t done because he certainly wasn’t.

No one compared to you, and Pierre had known that for a while, long before that night in the club.

Ever since Lando joined F1 and you showed up at his side, Pierre took an interest in you. In the beginning, he didn’t know what sort of relationship you and Lando had, so he kept things respectful so as to not cross a line.

But he could hear your laugh from halfway across the paddock and instantly recognize it. Your smile lit up whatever room you walked into and it wasn’t long before Pierre came to realise that he wanted to be the reason for it.

So he tried talking to you, but at that point, he already had a reputation. You were polite, sure, but you didn’t give him the time of day that he wanted and your attention always went back to Lando.

Pierre noticed it pretty quickly, how in love with him you were. He could never figure out why, he still couldn’t. You deserved someone better than Lando, someone who put you first in their life.

And even when you started to see that someone else could love you, that Pierre could possibly love you, you still went back to Lando.

Pierre should have accepted this as something that would always happen. He should have gotten over you and flirted with the girl next to him in an attempt to forget you ever existed.

But that just wasn’t possible. You had made too much of an impact on his life and left too large of a gap when you left.

“You seem lovely, but I’m really not looking for anything,” Pierre let this girl down gently, slowly peeling her fingers off of his arm. He turned his head forward before she could say anything else and it was only a second later when she hopped off the seat and walked away.

The bartender came and placed the drink in front of him, apologising for the wait. Pierre brushed it off, it was a busy night in this club. He reached for his wallet to pull out his card and start a tab, knowing he’d be here for the next little while.

But the bartender shook his head. He wasn’t about to take the payment.

Pierre chalked it up to him being recognized. Not that it happened often, but every now and then he’d get a meal comped or his drinks paid for if the employee or manager of the establishment was a fan.

“Thanks mate,” Pierre put his wallet away and grabbed the rum and coke.

The bartender only nodded his head towards the opposite end of the bar, “Don’t thank me. Thank her.”

Pierre’s smile dropped. If it was that blonde girl again trying another move he would feel bad because he’d just have to let her down a second time. Pierre took a sip of his drink before working up the courage to look towards the end of the bar.

But that blonde girl wasn’t there. In fact, no one on that side was even remotely paying him attention, all focused on their own drinks and conversations or trying to shout their orders to the bartenders.

Pierre didn’t let himself think too much about it.

Until he felt a tap on the back of his shoulder.

He sighed, “I already said I’m not looking for anything.”

Pierre turned around, fully expecting to come face to face with the girl from earlier. He was bracing himself for the tight dress, shy smile and long blonde hair.

What he didn’t expect was you.

Standing there wearing a baby pink long sleeve shirt with a neckline that showed off more cleavage than normal and a white skirt that sat high on your hips, giving you a very barbie-esque sort of feel, especially with the coloured heels to match. The lights from the club were flickering, highlighting the features that Pierre had burned into his mind. Your full lips, the small birthmarks you tried to hide with make up and your eyes that weren’t as important in colour as they were in the way that completely absorbed him.

You were standing right in front of him.

You glanced at the rum in coke in his hand, that familiar charming smile appearing on your lips as you darted your line of sight upwards to meet his own eyes.

“I owed you a drink,” you said, then you swallowed, eyebrows pinched together. “Or maybe I just owed you a thank you, I couldn’t remember.”

It was a cute call back to that night in the club, the first time you had given him more than just a friendly smile. He charmed his way in that night, and the rejection from Lando made it all the much easier to agree to leave with him, but you were thankful the night didn’t end with the two of you tangled between the sheets.

A relationship started that night. It started the second Pierre bought the drink for you, knowing he’d have an excuse to approach you later. Neither of you could have predicted how the next few weeks would follow.

Now here you were, after avoiding him for two months. And Pierre wasn’t one who often found himself speechless, but there were no words in any language that could describe how he was feeling.

He wanted to be happy to see you. He wanted to pick you up and spin you around and kiss you like no one was watching.

But the fact that you were in Abu Dhabi and he wasn’t the one who invited you, the door creaked opened for more insecurities to slide in.

If you weren’t there because of Pierre, you were there because of Lando.

Two Weeks Earlier

You flipped through a manila folder, slowly spinning back and forth in your chair. Recently you’ve been dedicating more time to your job and it was a helpful distraction. Most of your coworkers knew you had connections in the F1 world, but none of them knew what was going on behind the scenes.

And because this motorsport series was so popular, you found yourself walking in on various conversations. Someone asked for your input on the Circuit of the Americas and you said about five words before changing the topic. Someone else asked what your thoughts were on the unexpected Alpine podium and you just shrugged and smiled, saying something along the lines of it was well deserved. When another coworker asked about an incident Lando faced during the qualifying session in Mexico, you said that it probably wouldn’t affect his race and then you pulled out your phone to tune out the rest of what was being said.

You couldn’t escape these drivers, you couldn’t run from this sport. The most you could do was at least try and avoid the conversations about them.

But when your coworker, Sam, walked by your desk at the end of a work day, he did a double take and knocked on your cubicle wall.

“Hi,” you glanced up from the documents in your hand. “Heading out?”

“Yeah, but I meant to ask-” Sam looked over your head at the row of windows on the opposite side of your work station. “Since when does Lando Norris let you borrow his cars?”

You scoffed, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s a McLaren 720S outside,” Sam pointed out. “Isn’t that what he drives?”

“I don’t know what Lando drives but I can assure you, that man wouldn’t let me behind the wheel of any of his cars,” you spun to face your computer, wanting this conversation to be over. You wished no one knew you were friends with him.

Sam didn’t leave though. Instead, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. You could hear the keyboard sound effects as he furiously typed away before shoving his phone in your face. It took you a second to understand what you were looking at, but on the small screen was an image of Lando next to a blue McLaren 720s, a huge smile on his face.

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” you looked up at Sam.

“It’s the exact same car that’s outside.”

“Well I didn’t drive it.”

Sam’s eyes widened, “Is he here? Is he picking you up from work? Do you think I could-”

“Okay slow down,” you laughed, trying to make light of this situation but internally you were panicking. Was Lando here? In London? “I’m sure he’s not the only one who owns-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Not when the man of the hour himself came walking around the corner, being escorted by two other employees who were undoubtedly fans. Why else would they have let him into the employees only area? Lando wore a baggy jumper, his hands tucked into his pockets as he looked around with wide eyes until he finally spotted you.

Sam’s jaw dropped and you understood why. You never tried to hide your friendship with the driver, but him showing up at your place of work was not something that ever happened. And you couldn’t understand why it was happening now.

Lando’s feet shuffled against the floor. He thanked the two employees for showing them where you sat, but they didn’t return to their work, they just hovered a few feet away, curiosity getting the better of them.

He nodded at Sam, offering him a smile as well and when Sam glanced your way you nodded your head for him to get the hint, hoping he’d give you at least a bit of privacy. Sam cleared his throat, still starstruck, but he walked away, joining the other employees who stood near the corner.

Lando stepped into your cubicle and leaned against the desk. You weren’t a fan of the height difference and you didn’t want to feel as though he was talking down to you, so you stood up from your chair. You leaned against the wall opposite of him, making sure to keep as much room between you as possible.

“This part of the gallery usually isn’t open to visitors,” you pointed out, not even bothering with an actual greeting. You didn’t like that he used his status to enter this side of the building.

“Look I said I was fine waiting for you to get off work and they just-” Lando glanced over his shoulder and at once, the three coworkers of yours all scurried off in their own directions. Lando sighed and looked at you again, “I needed to talk to you.”

It had been just over two months since you last spoke. Since you left Monza without giving him an explanation. Since you stood in his driver's room and said ‘this ends here’. You were firm with that statement.

Lando respected that, for the most part. He gave you space. He didn’t call or text, even though Max told you that there were a handful of times when he almost did and he had to physically force the phone out of Lando’s hands.

But he should have waited until you decided you were ready to reach out again. He had no reason for showing up at your place of work.

Now that he was here, you felt so unprepared. You didn’t know what to say to him, you didn’t know what he was going to say. Usually you worked your way up to any difficult conversations but Lando showing up out of the blue completely blindsided you.

I needed to talk to you, he said. You hated that. The word need. Lando always needed something from you. He took so much. Your energy, your time, your love, and never gave any of it back and you put up with it for way too long. He didn’t have the right to need anything from you anymore.

“This couldn’t have waited?” You asked, gesturing to the work space around you. “Better yet, you couldn’t have waited until I wanted to talk?”

“No, because I was starting to get the feeling that time would never come.”

“So instead of respecting the space I asked for, you decided that what you wanted took priority?” You crossed your arms over your chest, “Do you sort of see how that’s not fair? How it’s selfish? Or have you just not learned anything in my absence?”

“I learned you don’t need me,” he shrugged his shoulders, as if that conclusion was one he could just brush off, like it still hasn’t fully resonated with him.

But it was a true statement. Your silence said it all.

Lando nodded slowly, “So you don’t- you don’t miss me at all?”

That’s where you still conflicted.

You did miss Lando, there was no denying that. He was your best friend, you shared hundreds of memories with him and it did feel like something was missing in your life these last few months.

But you needed him gone to get over him.

Being in love with him took so much out of you. Knowing that he didn’t, and never would, love you back was something you needed to accept and grow from. Taking this step back, you realised just how much of yourself you dedicated to Lando and to his life.

So you kept taking those steps back until he was no longer within reach. You needed to keep putting the distance between yourself and him. You needed to be your own person. You couldn’t just be Lando’s best friend anymore. As much as he wanted that, it wasn’t doing you any favours.

“Of course I missed you,” you dropped your head, jaw tightening for a second. “But I don’t love you anymore, Lando.”

Again, Lando nodded. If you were looking up, you would have seen the way his features softened, making him look so much younger than he actually was. He always had a boyish charm to him and when he was hurt or unsettled, those young mannerisms in him jumped out.

“Sort of feels like a break up,” Lando forced a smile on his face, as if it made this any easier.

But he was right. This was, in a sense, your relationship coming to an end. There was a dull ache in your chest as it hit, but deep down you had known this was coming for a while. The conversation, the confrontation and eventually, the conclusion.

You once loved Lando. How could you not?

You once loved everything about him. From his different types of laughs to the way you could tell his smiles apart better than he could. You supported him for years, you were his rock and one point, you thought that he was yours.

But he was a crutch. Something you could learn to live without. Something you didn’t need, but was too scared to give up.

He would always be someone you cared about, but his place in your life meant something different now. More importantly, you took away his ability to crush your heart in his hands without so much as a second thought.

You both noticed a few employees sliding on their jackets and heading for the door. Lando ran a hand through his hair before glancing at his watch, “Did you want a ride home?”

“No, I’m meeting a friend for dinner,” you denied his offer, but you noticed the way his eyebrows momentarily raised. You rolled your eyes, “It’s not a date if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“No I-” Lando stammered over his words. “I mean, it’s natural to be curious. But you’re allowed- obviously you can date whoever-”

“Lando,” you cut him off before he could say something stupid. He instantly closed his mouth and let you speak. “I’m going to walk you out, okay?”

And that was that. You grabbed your jacket and turned off your monitor. Lando grabbed your bag for you and waited until your coat was on before handing it over. The two of you walked side by side towards the doors of the gallery, elbows brushing occasionally.

As you stepped outside, you were thankful that the silence wasn’t heavy. There was nothing left for you to say and Lando knew he couldn’t change your mind. Your friendship, while not completely destroyed, was certainly tainted. The space between you might become less distant over time, but it was permanent.

You could still watch the races and support him, but on your own accord, the way you decided to. There would be no more McLaren paddock passes. There would be no more hanging out in his motorhome, you would just be a friend who could cheer him on from afar.

Sure enough, Lando’s McLaren was parked outside. You walked with him towards the driver's side door, but you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he made no effort to get in or say goodbye.

He inhaled a heavy breath and you just knew whatever words were to follow weren’t going to be good.

“What if things were different?”

You had spent so much wondering about the what if’s that hearing Lando ask it now was almost humorous.

“That’s a dangerous game, Lando.”

He leaned against the side of his car, “What is?”

“Asking what if.”

Lando chuckled, dipping his head momentarily. “It’s a genuine question, though. What if things were different?”

“But they’re not,” that was all you could say. It was the truth you accepted and now it was his turn to accept it as well. “Things will never be different. You don’t love me, you never loved me and that’s all I wanted from you. I can’t hold that against you and in return I need you to be okay with me taking a step back from your life.”

There were so many thoughts travelling behind those bright eyes of his, you could tell he was trying to figure out which one to land on.

You made it easier for him, “Why did you come here?”

That seemed to catch him off guard, “What do you mean?”

“Well I know you didn’t come here to ask me what if things were different so why are you here? I mean, you have two races left. You’ve gone this far without me. If you’re trying to pull some sort of grand gesture, could you not have at least waited until the end of the season?”

Lando hesitated before answering you, thinking of the right words first before just opening his mouth, “I won’t lie, Y/N, I wanted to see how you were doing. I think part of me expected you to come back or reach out and when you didn’t-” he shrugged, he always shrugged. “I just wanted to check in. No grand gesture, don’t worry. I know where you stand, but I’m allowed to still care about you.”

A gust of wind hit your back, blowing a few strands of hair in front of your face. It was early November, not an ideal time of the year to be standing outside and having a conversation, but this might be the last opportunity you two had to air things out.

So you sucked it up and dealt with the cold, shoving your hands in your pockets and watching as Lando licked his lips. He also avoided your eye contact, something he only did when he was nervous.

“I also want to apologise.”

Your eyebrow twitched, “For what?”

This man definitely owed you a few apologies, but you didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth next.

“Everything, really,” Lando laughed softly and it almost made you smile in response. You were only human, you could miss his laugh.

You nudged your foot against his, “I’m going to need a little more than that.”

He finally looked at you. There was a time when his grey eyes would have floored you, but not anymore. You were still standing.

“Everything,” Lando repeated, quieter this time. “For taking you for granted. Your friendship, your support, everything you gave me. For not appreciating you how I should have. For leading you on. For getting in the way of you and Pierre. For not loving you the way you wanted me to- I could go on, Y/N, but I need you to know I’m truly sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed.”

Maybe he did learn something in your absence.

You didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could show your appreciation for his growth, for his ability to take responsibility and acknowledge what went wrong.

So instead of trying to rely on words, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. Lando hesitated, unsure if he was even allowed to hug you back before slowly raising his arms and snaking them around your waist.

He knew this would be the last time he’d get to hold you like this.

You knew this would be the last time you’d ever allow yourself to be this close to him.

So there was no hurry to pull away. You could feel Lando’s heartbeat against his chest, his body heat pulling you in like a moth to a flame, his heavy breath as his face dipped right next to yours.

You held each other for a minute, maybe two. No more words were exchanged, but you and Lando had a bond that couldn't be described by anything the English dictionary had to offer.

Even in these uncertain times, you could count on his embrace to make the world around you freeze. You both had your own problems, your own reasons for needing space from each other but in his arms, they didn’t matter. You felt safe, comforted, this was the Lando that you had loved and it was hard to believe you weren’t going to have this anymore.

And then it was like Lando knew he had to be the one to let go. He had to be the one to release you, to stop giving you a reason to hold on.

He dropped his arms, both of you deciding not to speak about how painful this was, but your staggered inhale of a breath said it all. The way he sniffed and rubbed the back of his neck told you that this wasn’t any easier for him than it was for you.

For a brief second, you were almost crazy enough to apologise. It always hurt you to see Lando struggling, but your absence was something he was going to have to learn to live with. You didn’t need to apologise for it, for trying to better yourself.

“There is, actually, one more thing,” Lando suddenly said, reaching for the handle of the door, propping it open. You watched as the door to his luxury car swung upwards instead of out as Lando reached inside and grabbed an envelope. When he turned back around and handed it over, it was impossible to tell what it was.

Lando didn’t say anything as you opened it. His lips curled upwards when the realisation of what was inside slowly hit you.

“A Paddock pass,” you swallowed, recognising the lanyard.

“And plane tickets,” he added. “And a hotel booking. For Abu Dhabi.”

“The last race.”

“You should be there,” he said, taking in a sharp breath. His shoulders tensed, like he was suddenly debating if this was the best idea.

“Lando I can’t hang out in McLaren,” you sighed, wondering if the last five minutes of your conversation had already escaped him.

“No, you should be there for you,” Lando clarified. “You love the sport, Y/N, you’ve always attended the last race of the season. That shouldn’t change.”

You pulled the pass out of the envelope and twirled it around your fingers. The bright font of Abu Dhabi Grand Prix stood out along the black and you had to admit, it was a kind gesture, a selfless one for a change.

“You should be there,” Lando repeated. “And I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

Your eyebrows pinched together as you looked up at him again, dropping the pass into the envelope. “What do you mean?”

This man actually had the audacity to look at you like you were stupid.

“Oh come on Y/N,” a chuckle passed through his lips. “Pierre?”

You hesitated, “What about him?”

“He wants you there.”

“We haven’t spoken in weeks.”

“He still wants you there.” Lando shook his head, putting a stop to your doubts before they could creep up. “He’s just got more restraint than me and isn’t about to reach out or make you feel like you have to be there.”

You shrugged your shoulders. There was no question about it, you missed Pierre, but you were the one who ended things with him. You weren’t sure if you had the right to go back to him now and ask for a fresh start.

“Think about it, okay?” Lando extended his hand to give your arm an encouraging pat. He then made the move to get into his car and you took a step back to give him space. His eyes raked over you once more, probably wondering if this was the last time he would see you in the next little while, but he didn’t comment on it. He chose not to acknowledge it either, instead saying a quiet, “See you later,” and hoping those words would come true.

You had a few weeks to decide if you wanted to attend the last race of the season. You wanted to be strong and stay home. You nearly ripped the tickets up at one point, thinking it would make the decision easier, but everything was digital nowadays so it wasn't like that gesture mattered.

You wanted to watch the race. You wanted to cheer on your favourite drivers. You wanted to see Pierre.

And eventually it was your desire for all of those things that overpowered the distance you knew was better for you.

So you found yourself in Abu Dhabi that last weekend in November. You walked into the paddock when you knew the drivers would be busy with their teams and headed straight for the Paddock Club, choosing to watch the race from there. You kept your sunglasses on and made yourself as unapproachable as possible as you silently watched and rooted for the French driver.

When word got out of a few drivers heading to a specific nightclub, you knew that would be your chance to talk to Pierre. After the race and before he got drunk.

You weren’t even sure what you were going to say. Lando said he would want you to be there, but you still had your fears. You had called things off and there was no guarantee that he would want to pick things back up, that he would be so open to letting you back into his life.

When he ordered a drink, you saw it as an opportunity. When the bartender was near you, you quickly paid for Pierre’s rum and coke. He didn’t question it and neither did Pierre.

You walked around the side of the bartop, behind all of the other patrons and watched as Pierre tried to look for who had paid for his drink. You thought about saying his name to get his attention, you even thought about just walking away because was this really a good idea? But when his back was towards you, something in you pulled you forward, just enough so you could tap on his shoulder.

He turned around, wearing an expression you couldn't quite read. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I owed you a drink,” you blurted out, thinking of the first night you finally decided to give him more than thirty seconds of your time.

Pierre had approached you in the bar and bought your drink, telling him that you could thank him later. His words were laced with dirty intent, and while you were nowhere near as charming as Pierre was, you still tried.

“Or maybe I just owed you a thank you, I couldn’t remember,” you quickly added.

Pierre was silent for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape. He certainly hadn’t expected you to show up and now he was speechless. There had been hundreds of things he wanted to say to you over the course of the last few weeks but for the life of him, none of them came to mind.

You had no choice but to take control of the conversation for a change, “It was a good race. Good job. A top ten finish, and you beat the McLarens that must-

“You watched?” Pierre asked. He hadn’t meant to cut you off but he was still trying to process that you were actually right there and now to find out you were also in the audience watching? He was about to implode.

“Of course,” you nodded. Someone tried to step past you so you moved closer to Pierre to make room. And it was like nothing had changed, Pierre raised his hand to rest on your waist, automatically feeling that urge to reach for you, to be touching you.

He quickly put the drink down on the bartop, he had no desire for it anymore. The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was get drunk.

With his other hand free, Pierre raised it to cup the side of your face. He tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing over your cheek. You were really there.

“Chérie,” he spoke so quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the music playing from the speakers around you. But you watched his lips as he spoke, taking in every word, every breath. “You don’t know how bad I missed you.”

That was a weight lifted off your shoulders. Lando was right, Pierre did want you there.

And you could have said you missed him too. You could have laughed it off and teased him for it. You could have rolled your eyes, something he was all too familiar with seeing.

But instead of doing any of that, you grabbed hold of the collar of his shirt and closed the last bit of space between you. You kissed him like you were making up for lost time, you basically were. Pierre’s hand slid to rest where your neck met your jaw and there was a desire to rush, to taste every bit of his tongue against yours, to let him intoxicate all of your senses, but Pierre’s moves were slow. He wanted to take his time, relish in this moment and to keep you in his grasp for as long as he could, until you were both desperate for a breath.

Pierre pressed another kiss to your lips, and then another, and another and then to your cheeks and your forehead and every visible spot on your face that he thought needed some attention. You giggled like a schoolgirl as his arm slipped around your neck, pulling you tight into his chest to hold you, hug you, feel you in his arms.

“I missed you,” Pierre said again, still quiet but there was no underlying ache in his tone. He missed you, but he didn’t have to anymore. You weren’t going anywhere.

Neither of you cared that you were sharing this embrace in the middle of the club, but other people certainly didn’t like it. When someone made a playful 'get a room' comment, Pierre laughed into your ear. God you never wanted to go two months without hearing his laughter ever again.

“Let’s get out of here,” Pierre suggested, placing his forefinger under your chin to tilt your face up. He kissed you again, his hand slipping into yours before turning around, his eyes set on the door. You happily followed.

The club was crowded. You recognized a few paddock employees and members from various teams and of course the drivers who were out partying, but everyone was in their own little world as the two of you walked past.

Well…

Not everyone.

It happened so fast. You turned your head at the right second and caught Lando’s eyes from where he sat in a booth. Not only was he watching you, he was watching you leave with Pierre.

Someone walked in front of you, cutting off your line of sight for a brief moment. You felt Pierre’s grip on your hand tighten. Looking up, and saw that Pierre was staring straight ahead. If he noticed Lando, he didn’t hint towards it.

Glancing back at Lando one last time, you watched as he lifted the drink in his hand and nodded once, a toast-like gesture, but in this case it was so much more than a little congratulatory one-sided cheers.

He released his final hold over you. There were no more strings tying you to Lando. He wasn’t going to get in between you and Pierre. He was going to let you be happy with the French driver.

Lando would still continue to want what was best for you, but that wasn’t him anymore. That was Pierre.

So he watched as a sliver of a smile appeared on your lips, so quick he almost missed it, before following Pierre outside. You were gone.

Feeling a nudge on his arm, Lando turned his head and met the concerned eyes of Max. Max, someone who had been a witness to everything these last few months, was definitely happy to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“You alright?” Max asked him and Lando just nodded, glancing at the spot you just abandoned.

“Yeah,” he didn’t sound very convincing, but Max knew that eventually he’d say it and mean it.

He brought his drink up to his lips, “I guess the best man won.”

Lando rolled his eyes, shoving Max with his elbow. Not hard enough to hurt him but enough that he spilled his beer over the front of his shirt.

“It was never a competition you numbskull.”

Max plastered his best dumbfounded look on his face, “Oh, you mean Y/N? I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the driver standings.”

Lando snorted, knowing that Max was most definitely not talking about the driver standings, but it was a good retort to fall back on. Pierre had beat him in the last two races, putting him ahead of the two McLaren drivers in the championship.

Lando put up a good fight throughout the season but towards the end he managed to come to the realisation that no matter what, he wouldn’t pull ahead. Beating Pierre wasn’t in his cards.

Neither was keeping you.

But not all hope was lost. Lando would fight even harder next year. This year’s competition made him a better driver. And motorsport aside, he knew he’d still see you around. At a distance, only in passing, and most likely with Pierre, but you’d be there.

Losing you forced him to grow up. He had no choice but to better himself, and he would.

The what if’s would continue to haunt him, they would haunt all of you. The ghosts of what could have been. The paths you never took. What if Pierre hadn’t hit on you that night in the club? What if Lando spoke to you the morning after? What if you spent the summer break alone? What if what if what if.

The thing was, though, none of it mattered.

You were happy. Lando would learn to live without you. Pierre played the long game and it worked out in his favour. The lingering questions didn’t matter. The only thing left to do was look ahead. The past held nothing, whereas your future, all of your futures, were brighter and better than they had ever been before.

why am i crying lmao

and with that, the better series comes to an end :') thank you everyone for reading and for sharing your thoughts and being so invested in their silly little lives.

i will most definitely be writing another mini series, and if you have ideas or see something on my prompt list, pls send me a request here! i can't promise it'll turn into a 7-part fic but i do love getting requests and who knows?? maybe i'll write a lando fic and turn u all back into lando girlies??

love u all so much and for the record, i was always team pierre

#pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly #lando norris one shot #lando norris social media au #lando norris au #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 one shot #f1 requests #f1 au #formula 1 #holllandtrash

1K notes · View notes

strvngeweather · 1 year ago

Text

WHAT YOU NEED.

a one shot.

🍷PAIRING: collegeartnerd!taehyung x black!reader. 🍷GENRE: College AU, smut 🍷WORD COUNT: 1.7k 🍷WARNINGS: Smut, consumption of alcohol, swearing, drunkness, non-consensual kiss 🍷SUMMARY: After getting your heart broken by Jin, Taehyung, the local art geek, provides a worthy distraction from the heartache. 🍷AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I had no plans on posting this because it's not ... great but, I decided to anyway because I may continue it as a series. Thanks for reading <3

You knew better than to get involved with Jin.

He had been your first love – still was. He was the bad boy who wooed you, the head cheerleader, in high school and the rest was history. Everyone had warned you about the relationship. They said that it wouldn’t last, that he would end up leaving you high and dry, and that attending the same college as him was a romantic death wish. But you knew you and Jin were different. You knew that you had a love that would stand the test of time. You knew that deep down in your heart, that Jin was the only man for you.

You had been wrong. So wrong.

Your first mistake was believing that a guy like Jin could be tied down. Your second mistake was coming to the hottest party of your college career just a month after Jin broke up with you in a Denny’s parking lot at two in the morning.

He had spent the entire party cozying up with some blonde girl with a bird tattoo on her arm. Every time he put his arm around her or kissed her or whispered something in her ear, it was like he was taking a piece of your heart and shattering it.

“Here,” your best friend, Lea, shoved a red plastic cup full of a dark brown liquid into your hands. “You need a drink.”

“I need Jin.” You realized how pathetic you sounded but you didn’t care.

“You need a drink,” Lea repeated. “And you need a fuck.”

You shook your head, taking a gingerly sip of the drink; you winced as the alcohol hit your taste buds. It was strong, burning as you swallowed. “What the hell is this?”

“Rum and coke. Mostly, rum though.” You tried to give the drink back, but she shook her head, forcing the drink back into your hands. “Drink it,” she demanded. “Screw him! Tonight is about you having fun. It is not about Jin. So, you drink that drink, you climb up on a table, you shake that beautiful ass of yours and then you fuck the brains out of someone else.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you should consider a career in public speaking?”

“All of the time.”

You obeyed your best friend, quickly chugging the drink and heading to the kitchen for a refill. She was right, you figured. You couldn’t spend the entire party sulking over a guy who no longer cared about you. This was college, for crying out loud, you deserved to have some fun.

And fun you had. The night slipped away from you like a thief. One drink turned into two and two turned into three and soon enough, any thoughts of Jin were out of your mind. It had been the first time in the last two weeks that he wasn’t on your mind.

It was just too bad you were never on his.

You had gone to the kitchen to pick at the lukewarm finger food the host had put out. Most of it was gone but you took what you could from the vegetable platter. The kitchen wasn’t exactly packed but it was crowded enough to where he hadn’t noticed you. And because he hadn’t noticed you, he had no problems telling his friends how he really felt about you.

“So, you broke up with Y/N?” This was Hoseok. A frat boy that was obsessed with penis jokes.

“Yeah,” Jin replied. “Had to let that clingy bitch go.”

His words knocked the wind out of you like a sucker punch. You could feel the sting of tears in the back of your eyes but there was no way you were going to cry. Not here. Not now. You slipped out of the kitchen quietly, pushed your way past the other partygoers, and ignored the sound of your name being called by Lea. You made a beeline for the staircase, heading up it and into the nearest bedroom. You took a seat on the edge of the king-sized bed and wept to yourself.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped at the sound of a deep voice. You thought you had been alone but as you turned around, you saw the outline of a figure sitting on a bean bag chair. “I’m sorry. I thought I was alone.”

The figure got up and you could see who it was now: Taehyung Kim.

Taehyung was an art major that everyone seemed to love. You shared a class together and saw him on campus a few times but didn’t interact often. You two just didn’t run in the same circles. Most people had agreed he was exceptionally handsome, but you were always so preoccupied with Jin that you couldn’t fathom finding anyone else attractive. But as you looked over him now, you realized that they had been right. Taehyung was handsome. Really handsome. And that voice – good, God! Had it always been so velvety?

Taehyung came and sat next to you. “My bad, I just needed a place to sober up from the craziness downstairs.”

“You’re drunk?” He certainly didn’t look it – or sound it.

“Mhm,” he hummed, laying back on the bed, and placing his hands behind his head. You noticed the way his dark blue shirt lifted, getting a peak of his toned stomach. “Not super drunk but the buzz is buzzin’, ya know?” That earned a laugh out of you which forced a smile out of Taehyung. “Anyone ever tell you that your laugh is sexy as fuck?”

You laughed again. “You are drunk.”

“A little,” Taehyung admitted. “I’m a little bolder when I’ve got liquor in me. But I’m not lying, you’re sexy as fuck.”

“I thought you said my laugh was.”

“That too.” He got up, running a hand through his dark, wavy, locks. “I’ll leave you alone now. I don’t wanna disturb you or anything.”

‘You need a drink, and you need a fuck.’ Lea’s words rang through your head. You had your drink and Taehyung did seem like the perfect candidate to get your fuck. No, you thought. This was too crazy. You had just met him officially for the first time tonight and as far as you knew, he had some goth girlfriend who he loved dearly. You watched him go, cursing yourself for thinking of hooking up with a random person tonight. His leaving was clearly a sign from the universe that you needed to deal with your heartbreak in a more mature way.

After about ten minutes, you got up to leave. When you opened the door, Taheyung was on the other side. “I think I forgot my phone,” he said.

“And something else.”

“Something else?” He cocked his head to the side.

You nodded and did something completely out of character. You kissed him.

And he kissed you back.

His lips worked against yours in a feverish manner, his tongue slipping inside. The only person you had ever had sex with was Jin so you were trying hard to keep up and if Taehyung could tell, he certainly didn’t let on. He left a trail of kisses from your chin to your clavicle, stopping at the top of your breasts to suck and bite at the flesh.

His hands roamed your body before settling on the curve of your ass, softly groping the fleshy area before moving down to the end of your dress and pulling it up over your hips. His lips found yours again, taking your bottom lip in between his. He placed an arm around your waist and used his other hand to gently rub your core through your panties. A moan escaped your lips as he pushed your panties to the side, his fingers sliding up and down your already-soaked slit.

“Can I taste you?” He asked between kisses.

You muttered out a yes or at least you thought you had. You were too busy trying to keep your composure as his thumb worked against your clit and his middle finger pumped in and out of you.

Taehyung guided you to the bed, laying you down and sliding your panties off. He settled in between your legs. You felt his lips against yours, his tongue lapping at you, his hands forcing your legs to open wider. You gripped the bed sheets feeling your pussy tightening; an indescribable feeling bubbled up in your lower stomach and just as you felt you were about to burst, Taehyung stopped.

“Wait, why did you –” You paused once you realized he was slipping off his jeans, followed by his briefs. He stroked his hard dick, placing the head at your entrance, and rubbed it up and down your slit.

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it.”

“Say it louder, baby. No one can hear us.”

“I want it.”

“You want what?” Taehyung rubbed the head right on your clit.

“I want your dick,” you told him through a moan. “Please.”

“Good girl,” he replied before sliding it all the way into you.

A throaty yelp escaped you as he began to pump in and out. He pushed your legs back as far as they could go, fucking you at the perfect angle. Your body shivered in pleasure beneath him. It had been a good year and a half since you had been fucked properly. Looking back, you should have seen the signs with Jin. Despite being so young, the two of you walked around like an old married couple, and sex with him was almost like a chore and you had settled into that thought – accepting that this was what sex would be like for the rest of your life.

But Taehyung was proving you wrong.

“Oh, fuck, oh baby,” Taehyung moaned. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and his dick slamming into your wetness. “I’m going to cum, baby.” He sped up but made sure to place his thumb on your clit, working it until he felt your juices soak his dick even more. He waited for your eyes to roll back and your moans to heighten into a whistle tone before he pulled out and came all over your thighs and stomach.

He lay on the bed next to you, the sound of heavy breathing filling the air.

“Taehyung,” you managed to get out after a moment, but he didn’t hear you. He had already fallen asleep.

You contemplated getting up, going downstairs, and slipping out of the party but you didn’t. Instead, you scooted closer to Taehyung, cuddling up next to him, and to your surprise, he woke up just long enough to wrap his around you and whispered, “Sleep well,” before both of you drifted off into slumber.

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x black reader #taehyung x black reader #taehyung kim x black reader #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung imagines

274 notes · View notes

tragedygroupie · 2 years ago

Note

Miles bron smut please!!💗💗

thank you so much for this because it inspired me to write this and it may be one of my favorite things i’ve ever written

his parliament’s on fire and his hands are up

“are you sure her name isn’t on the list?” my friend asks.

“i’m positive.”

it’s some time late at night, and my friends and i are trying to get into one of new york’s most exclusive clubs. we make a game out of it, the pleading and cajoling almost as fun as the actual clubbing.

“can you check for my name? it’s juli pascal,” my best friend giggles.

“girls if i don’t find your name after this, i’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” the bouncer sighs.

“actually, they’re with me.”

i turn around, confused.

an older man with a hamptons tan and aggressively blonde hair walks over to us. a security detail follows him.

“isn’t that right darling?” he asks me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

i smile at him. two can play at this game.

“this would be my boyfriend. HE should be on the list, isn’t that right honey?” i ask.

the bouncer’s face has gone red, and he’s stammering.

“i’m so sorry mr bron, this won’t happen again-“

i turn to my friends and try to convey my disbelief.

“fucking miles bron?!” juli mouths.

i shrug, scarcely able to process it myself.

as we walk through the door, my friends start thanking him profusely.

“thank you so much mr bron, we really appreciate it-“

he waves his hand.

“its no problem ladies. i used to be like you when i was your age, i always love helping out fellow disrupters.”

juli and i dissolve into a fit of giggles, as the rest of the group laughs as well.

“well we really appreciate it.” i say.

he lets go of my waist, and i almost feel disappointed.

“i hope to see you ladies sometime soon,” he says and we all thank him again.

as he walks off, lulu turns to me.

“what the fuck?”

i shrug.

“stranger things have happened.”

juli shakes her head.

“that may be the strangest thing that’s ever fucking happened.”

********************************************

it’s been an hour and i’m stumbling up to the bar. i’m not really built for clubbing- i hate dancing and i don’t like most men. the most fun part of the night is always trying to get in, and i’m still not entirely over how we did that in the first place.

i sit up at the counter and get on my phone as i wait for the server to come over.

“aren’t you a little young to be drinking?”

i turn around and there he is.

the blonde himself.

“aren’t you a little old to be clubbing?” i shoot back.

he chuckles, putting his hands up in an i surrender pose as he sits down next to me.

“also, i am old enough to drink. in most countries anyway.”

he laughs at that, a full body laugh that makes me wonder if he’s drunk already.

“you’re funny.”

“i do stand up if you’re interested. my best material is on Twitter.”

“i considered buying twitter.” he says thoughtfully as the server comes over.

“i’ll have a rum and coke. you?” he asks.

“the exact same, only no rum please.”

the server bustles off and he looks at me curiously.

“you don’t drink?”

i shake my head.

“i barely drink anything that isn’t coke to begin with.”

we sit quietly for a moment as the server returns with our drinks.

“so do you always do this?” he asks.

“do what?”

“go to clubs that most people can’t get into and try to con your way in?”

i laugh.

“i don’t know if it’s conning. my friends are pretty, they should get in just on hotness alone,” i say as i sip my coke.

“and what about you?”

“i’m gonna be an Oscar winning filmmaker someday. they’re lucky i deign to visit their establishment.”

he laughs.

“what have you directed?”

“nothing yet.”

“i like your confidence.”

we take a swig of our drinks, and i assess him. he’s not a bad looking dude. old enough to be my father, but i’ve skewed towards older men since i was in high school.

“why’d you get us in?” i ask.

“i like your style. you’re disruptive. inbreathiating even.”

i giggle.

“that’s not a real word.”

he goes on like he hasn’t heard me.

“would it be too cheesy if i said it was because you’re pretty?” he asks.

i scoff.

“there are a million models still waiting out there in the cold. i don’t know what you’d see in me that you can’t find in them.”

he shakes his head.

“you’re pretty in a different way. in a… real way.”

why the fuck is this sleazy pick up working?

“a lot of the girls in my world are pretty in a polished way. they’re pretty because they were manufactured to be that way. there’s nothing wrong with that, but you, you’re pretty like a forest fire.”

he grabs my hand as he talks, his eyes never leaving mine.

“you have this chaos and fun and danger to you, and it’s not that cheap thrill shit you get at a theme park. you’re pretty and you’re dangerous in the way a hurricane is.”

my drink is abandoned as i focus entirely on him.

“do you like my kind of pretty?” i ask, feeling like i’m fourteen years old again.

“i wanna drown in it.”

we stare at each other for a moment, and i grab my drink and take a long sip.

“do you dance?” i finally ask.

“yes,” he grins.

“i don’t.”

“well we’ll have to fix that.” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of my chair, back to the dance floor.

when we get to the heart of the crowd i stand there, unsure of how to proceed.

“you really don’t dance?” he asks, surprised.

“hmm, if only i had told you.”

he laughs and i hate how infectious it is, because now i have a small smile on my face.

“well you start by doing this.”

he grabs my hands and puts them on his shoulders.

“and then you just kind of-“ he rocks back and forth to the music.

slowly, i move my body with him.

“you’re getting the hang of it!”

i move closer to him, so close that he’s practically grinding on me while i interlock my hands behind his neck.

we sway to the pulsating music, rocking our bodies in time and part of me wants to close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder, but that’s a little too cheesy for a potential fuck with a billionaire playboy.

when the song ends, i look up at him and see the hunger in his eyes.

he wants me, and i want him.

if he’s bad in bed at least i’ll get to sleep on sheets with a thread count higher than my tuition.

“do you wanna go back to your place?”

he grins.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

********************************************

his apartment makes me want to shank him.

it reeks of money, new money eclecticism with superfluous furniture and nonsensical art pieces.

it makes me cringe. i have to fuck him.

“so do you wanna-“ he asks as i cut him off with a kiss.

he startles, before seemingly coming alive.

he pushes me against the wall, his hands wandering my body as he kisses me hard. his mouth wanders with his hands, kissing and sucking hickeys onto my neck.

“aren’t we… a little… old… for hickeys?” i pant as he chuckles into my skin.

“i wont leave any if you don’t want me to.” he says as he bites my neck.

“now when did i say that?” i breathe.

he’s running his hand up my thigh, and when he starts rubbing me through my underwear i start dissolving into incoherence.

“do you want me to touch you?” he asks coyly.

i nod frantically.

“use your words honey.”

“yes fuck you yes just fucking touch me please.” i spit out.

“so impatient,” he observes and i’m about to tell him to fuck off when he slides a finger inside me and i’m rendered dumb.

he starts pumping it in and out of me, his thumb rubbing circles onto my clit and i’m whimpering, melting into his arms as he coos at me like a baby.

“do you like that?” he asks softly.

i nod into the crook of his neck, thankful that i’m spared eye contact.

as he slides another finger inside me and curls i feel my knees start to buckle.

it’s honestly a little pathetic but i haven’t been finger fucked this well in god knows how long.

as he continues to pump his fingers and rub my clit i feel the coil in my stomach threaten to snap.

“can i, can i?” i start babbling.

“of course sweetheart,” he murmurs, his free hand brushing my hair.

i feel myself fall over the edge as he fingers me through my orgasm, and the whole time he holds me close to him.

when he pulls his fingers out i sneak a look at him and he smiles at me.

“do you think you have another left in you?” he asks.

“god yes,” i breathe.

he picks me up bridal style in his arms and carries me to his bedroom, where he gently lays me down.

strong hands pull my dress over my head, methodically undressing me as i try to tug at his shirt.

he crawls over me and holds my face in his hands for a moment.

i hook my thighs around his waist and when he enters me, it burns deliciously from my cunt throughout my body. he stills a little, letting me adjust, before setting a slow but hard pace.

my eyes are rolling back into my head as i grip the sheets, only to feel his hands on my face.

“eyes on me,” he groans.

he starts speeding up when we make eye contact, slamming into me while he reaches down between us to rub my clit with a fervor i didn’t know he had in him.

as i near my orgasm, i babble, desperately trying to ask permission to cum.

“can i please please please” i pant.

“cum for me darling,” he says.

i feel my body shake as i spasm around him.

my cunt clenching around him must trigger his own release, because he’s cumming deep inside me, hot and thick.

when he pulls out, i’m still shaking and i pray he doesn’t notice how my thighs are trembling, i don’t want to add to his ego.

“are you alright?” he asks.

“yeah,” i stutter out.

“you’re shaking,” he observes.

before i can respond he takes me in his arms, hugging me close to him.

exhausted, i rest my head on his chest.

“imma sleep and if you wake up before me, just pretend like i’m dead,” i mutter.

he laughs.

“okay.”

#edward norton #glass onion #miles bron #knives out #miles bron smut #oneshot #edward norton smut

58 notes · View notes

moviemuncherao3 · 1 year ago

Text

TW: alcoholism

I used to be a binge drinker, and I worked in a bar at the cinema I worked at a lot, (I think it's fair to say I still struggle with the drinking, but I am definitely not several days a week until I pass out anymore). A bottle of vodka (thank you co-op 1 litre vodka for getting me drunk in my poor student days) stretched from pres (6/7pm start) to when you left for the club (after 11pm closer to midnight) was do-able but you were drunk.

Then I'd drink a lot in the club, mainly shots, sambuca is the devil but jaeger was grand, and some spirit mix (usually rum and coke for me), but you need so much energy (atmosphere too) to maintain any semblance of a good time. You do not need to drink that much, ever, and I highly regret a lot of it. I don't think I ever left a club before 3am, and if it was Heaven til 7, I was fucking going.

2+ bottles of vodka was a bender that usually lasted from when you started drinking until the birds were singing, the sun was up and you knew you fucked up. Those were not good nights and definitely mistakes.

(Also, best mixer for vodka is a mango monster and top it up with ice. If you don't want to use lots of energy drink, do half and half with lemonade. If you don't like fizzy mixers, hefty squirt of lime juice and top up with cranberry. Citrus will cut through clear/white spirit taste and prevent some of the harshness.)

3 tall glasses of spirits/liquor in what an hour or two the scene may cover? Yeah that's nearly passed out for even a moderate to heavy drinker. Someone with a normal level of tolerance? Night buddy, see you the morra.

Vodka tastes like nail varnish remover on an open cut feels when it's cheap (I'm looking at you Glenn's vodka). Expensive vodka can be quite smooth and pleasant but it's a strong taste.

Tequila is one I like personally, but also super strong tasting especially without salt and lime, it's like a slow kind of burn rather than quick heat to me.

Whisky tastes great to me provided it's Jameson's or Glenfiddich, it's warm and sharp but overall a smooth sensation, it is not sweet. This is an acquired taste, my sister says it burns and makes her think of how petrol smells.

Brandy is sweeter than some, but I wouldn't describe it that way. To me it's like burned honeycomb, it was probably meant to be sweet, but something was off.

Gin, strong and sharp again, a bit more fruity than vodka, even without additional flavours. Still not sweet when it's just plain gin, oddly would relate it more to bitter but not really. Think aniseed (and juniper) but very, very mild on that flavour.

Getting drunk on beer will more than likely leave you bloated, as will cider which is almost always alcoholic in the UK unless it specifically says non-alcoholic, but they are great casual drinks for a bar where you might cluster round a table and talk.

Guinness is a very creamy, smooth and always reminds me of dark roast coffee, but it is a "heavy" drink. You might want to not drink this if you're aiming to get drunk, and you might want to avoid if mildly sweet, creamy stuff doesn't sit well with you.

Wines are too varied to list, but wine drunk is lethal. It hits fast if you don't take it easy but if you leave it and dance it off a bit, it will fade somewhat fast too (at least for me), but if you keep drinking prepare for the headache.

Just some basic choices but if you don't drink and want some sort of insight into how it tastes/tolerances (of an admittedly recovering heavy drinker), this might help. Also if you're ever concerned about your drinking, I promise you, it's okay to talk to someone, and you can even talk to me if you want. I replaced a lot of my drinking with video games and cooking to keep my hands busy, but the mental stuff is still ongoing.

i love when fic writers who have clearly never tried any kind of alcohol in their lives try to write someone drinking bc they're always like

"he ordered a tall glass of hard liquor. after three large glasses he was feeling tipsy" like babygirl i can't be sure but i think u just sent this man to the hospital

63K notes · View notes

slowpoke-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Poison

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Pairing: Stefan x Reader

Request Summary: The reader has anger issues and is on verge of becoming an alcoholic as she feels helpless. Stefan helps her through to quit alcoholism and fight her fears and control her anger.

Warnings: alcoholism, self deprecation, Stefan being hungry, ooc Stefan and matt? idk I know I've missed some, as always read at your own risk

A/N: Yoooooo, welcome me back to the land of the matrix folks because I have crawled out of my pit of despair to bring you 1000 or so words that will hopefully give you a small rush of serotonin!

My friend, @yipee101, has been so patient and kind, they may have forgotten about this but I did not!! I hope you enjoy love.

Thank you pals for being patient with me.

Blessed be to all of you and sweet love to come your way <3

You slipped your sixth shot of whiskey down your throat, pouring another as you listened to Elena and Damon put their vamp skills to good use again. It just reminded you of what you couldn't be, and you had to admit it made you a little sick to be the only one who couldn’t defend herself. The only one so vulnerable, so mortal. Nobody would let you turn, everyone just wanted to keep you 'pure.' Your blood boiled just thinking about it. You decided you weren’t gonna just stand there and listen to them fuck, so you took your shot and slammed the glass down so hard it shattered. You headed for the door, not waiting around in the Salvatore house for Stefan when all you could hear was thudding and graphic moans.

As you stumbled to the door you went through your purse to find your car keys. Grabbing the handle and pulling the door open you were met with Stefans confused face. You walked right by him, “You know, if you were gonna be late we could’ve met at the Grill.” Stefan beat you to the car, taking the keys from you and putting you in the passenger seat. You pulled out your flask and began drinking, “Sorry I was late love, don’t you think you could slow down?” your blood boiled.

“Listen sweetheart, I know that you think you know what’s best, but the drinking isn’t a problem.” Stefan shakes his head as you take yet another swig, “Why do you keep drinking so much anyway?” You smiled big, clearly not wanting to talk about it, "After listening to Elena and Damon fuck for an hour, I think it's okay," raising the flask as if you’d raise your glass, spinning around to lay your head on his leg, you down a good mouthful of liquor, “So babe, how come you were late anyway?” Stefan sighed, “I got caught up hunting was a little hungrier than normal.” You gently reached your hand up and rubbed Stefan’s arm reassuringly, “It's okay to be hungry, I know it’s hard.”

You arrived at the grill, quickly pulling the bottle from your backseat and refilling your now empty flask. Stefan met you at your side of the car, allowing you to slide your arm perfectly with his for support. "It's lovely, ya know?" You mumbled as Stefan opened the door for you, "What is Y/N/N?" Sliding into the booth, "To be so drunk all the time that I don't have all the flies buzzing 'round me. All the little worries just whoosh, and everything is just so fun." Matty comes up to you and Stefan, taking your order and allowing you to order a rum and coke and a random meal.

After about ten minutes, Matty brings you another drink, you slammed it back, chugging and pounding the glass on the table a little too hard. Matty saluted you, bringing you another. You went back to back for a good half hour. Matty started to sit down another for you, but Stefan interjected, “I think she’s had enough tonight Matt.” Matt nodded, looking at your disheveled figure, head lying on the tables arms crossed under your head, ready to pass out. “‘M ready to go home,” you mumbled as you laid back in your booth, happily relaxing into the overly inviting cushions. Stefan lightly laughed, trying to cover the true concern he had for you.

Even though you guys had been dating nearly a year, this is how it always was. At first, he didn’t notice it, but the closer you two got the more you allowed him to see. You had finally explained to him that it was ‘your normal,’ that it had been since the night at the haunted house and Stefan almost died trying to save you from a vampire. Stefan looks at you for a minute, recalling the words he would never forget you said, “Nobody gave a shit back then so don’t start caring now.” Stefan picked you up out of the booth, carrying you to your car and softly closing the door. As he got back into the car, he noticed you trying to finish off your flask. He had decided in that moment, enough was enough. He took your flask from you, eliciting a heavy groan from you that didn’t last long because of your truly fucked state. The last thing you remember is laying your head on his leg as your normal position, his fingers running softly through your hair.

When you woke up the next morning you instantly ran to the bathroom, unlucky to be one of the times you had a hangover. You pounded on the floor next to your toilet, trying to alert Stefan. He was instantly next to you, handing you a cup, no doubt his special morning blend with enough of his blood to make all of this go away. He gently pulled your hair up and wrapped it in a bun, watching as you drank the contents of the cup, knowing it would be over soon. In truth, it was. After you finished chugging the cup you leaned back onto Stefan. “Good morning,” you laughed, “I hate for us to start it this way,” Stefan mumbled as he kissed your forehead, sliding his arms under yours and pulling you to your feet. You spun around to face him, “What the fuck?” you near shouted. “Why do you have to nit pick so fucking early?”

"It's not nit picking, Y/N" He tried to speak non-confrontational, "I am genuinely worried about you. This isn't healthy-you're not invincible to this." You scoffed, pushing past him and downstairs to your kitchen, Stefan following suit as you spoke, "You mean I'm human, right? Defenseless and vulnerable?" You shook your head, interrupting him as he tried to speak, "No-don't even, this wouldn't be a problem if I was a vampire. If I wasn't so fucking needy, always pitifully needing protecting, can't even decide how much liquor to drink." You slammed the coffee pot back in it's place, impatiently waiting for it to finish. "I don't think you're pitiful or needy. I think that you're drinking too much and putting your life in needless danger and you won't tell me why."

You flailed your arms, spinning around to pour yourself a cup of coffee, grabbing a bottle of liquor and starting to pour some in, but Stefan's hand is on the bottle. You slammed the bottle down turning to Stefan, shoving him back with every scream, "You stupid fucking," shove, "I told you," shove, "it makes me feel better!" shove. You sighed, "I'm sorry," running your hands on your face, sighing again, "Just, get the fuck out Stefan." You turned back to your cup, pouring the liquor, only to be stopped by Stefan, "No." Your blood boiled, "Get the fuck out!!" Stefan took the bottle from you, setting it back on the counter, "Not if when I leave you're just going to drink that."

You instantly threw your coffee cup, watching it shatter into pieces before grabbing the bottle and turning it up. You chugged and chugged until Stefan pulled it away from you, "You gonna fucking leave now?" Stefan stepped closer to you, hating the way the alcohol burned his nose, like a poison coming off of you, "Baby, I'm not going anywhere." You screamed, out of frustration or shame you weren't sure which, it was a blood curdling scream, slamming your hand down, hitting the liquor bottle cross the floor enjoying the way it shattered. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"You! This!" Stefan sighed, "You won't talk to me, you brush me off and act like this isn't something I should care about but it's been like this as long as I can remember, I'm worried, I can't protect-" You slammed your hands down on the counter over and over, kicking the cabinets and laughing, "Jesus Christ Stefan, I don't need your protection!" Stefan grabbed your hands, turning you to him as gently as he could, your strength diminished from the bottle of alcohol you chugged, "I want to protect you, I want to, I know you don't need it, I want to," his voice to a whisper at the end of his plea, "I want to," his hand moved from your wrist to your face, "I love you, I want you to be around as long as possible, I need to protect you, you don't need me to, I do."

You sighed, your forehead resting on his, "I love you too," you pulled your wrists back, "I'm sorry." Starting to pull away from him to clean the mess up, he was gone and back before you noticed the mess was gone. "Talk to me," Stefan said as you walked past him, sitting on the couch. "I hate myself," you sighed, "I'm so weak and puny, I feel like I'm always in the way," you shrugged, "I get so angry all the time, maybe not even at other people, really at myself," leaning against Stefan as he put his arm around you, "Drinking helps, really?" he asked hoping to hear an honest response. "If I'm honest? No, I just feel like it's better than feeling like this all the time."

Stefan slid his arm under your legs, his free arm moving your arm around his neck before moving around your waist and standing up. "What?" You looked up at him, he smiled, "I have something that might help." In the next moment, you guys were out of your house and watching everything rush by until you hit forest. Suddenly Stefan stopped running, setting you down gently, smiling, "I was gonna show you to this on our anniversary, it's not finished yet, but I don't see why we can't go ahead and visit."

You started to ask what he meant until you saw it-near dead ahead was a large clearing, but it had been worked on, there was a stack of rocks with one slab of rock covered in the softest moss you'd ever touched, "So you can read and do homework comfortably," Stefan said, pointing up to the makeshift roof of vines that you now notice wrap around the trees, making a circle around the clearing, you loudly gasp, taken by the beauty and effort he's already put into this for you, for your relationship.

You continue to look around as he points to an obvious training area, he smiles, "I know that you've been struggling, but I didn't realize how much," he moved closer to you, his front now pressed against your back, arms encircling your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, whispering in your ear, "I'm gonna have Bonnie protect it, it's gonna be just us here, me n you gonna relax, you're gonna read over there, train over there, we can put a table for picnicking over there-" he points to an area that is close to the moss bed, "and lots of flowers and colors, to always brighten our day, gonna put a vine door-" you turned around and kissed him.

Your hands were on the side of his face, hair intertwining with his hair, he lifted you up, your legs circling his waist, you feel him smile. You pulled back, "I love it, thank you, this is going to be great," you kissed him again, "you know, it is our space, I could help you put stuff together, whatever you wanted to add." Stefan nodded, kissing your forehead, "I think when you wanna drink we should come here." You kissed under his ear, trailing down his neck, "two conditions," Stefan hummed, moving his head to the side he allowed you more access as he pressed you against one of the many trees that circled the clearing.

"Well, we'll come here when I wanna drink, if we'll come here when you get hungry," Stefan let out a small groan as you bit his neck gently, loving how he pulled your hair. "And the second?" He asked as your hands traced down his torso, grabbing the hem of his shirt, "you fuck me, now." He smiled, kissing you hard, and the next thing you know, you're sitting on the edge of the moss bed. "Easy," he pulls off your shirt, admiring your body for a moment, "it's a deal."

117 notes · View notes

graceslavenderhaze · 4 years ago

Text

cherry lips {harvey kinkle}

synopsis: you’ve been pinning after harvey for several months little do you know he’s also been pining back.

warnings: swearing, underrage drinking, smoking

authors note: i present to you all the imagination of ross lynch in a sid vicious costume, you’re welcome

dedicated: @samsteel aka zoltar the mystical

“How long are you going to stare at him and never make a move?” Jamie asked as he sat down next to you at lunch. You turned your head at him, offended. “I was not staring.” You scoffed as you stole a chip from his lunch tray. He nodded, “You sure, because you have some drool on the corner of your mouth.” he said as he flicked the corner of your mouth.

“There’s no way a bear could defeat a shark. It’s not fucking happening.” Dylan declared as he sat down with Ryan. “Think about it, you put a bear on any playing field. He fucking wins!” Ryan exclaimed. They’d been arguing about this for the whole week. You groaned turning to Jamie, “Are we going to the halloween party tonight?”

“Well, we can. Just no heavy drinking for us we have an early morning practice.” Dylan said finally the previous conversation. “Wow greendale really pushing for that sober life is the good life.” Ryan said as he popped a grape in his mouth. “You were going to be sober this party anyways, it’s your turn to drive.” Jamie said throwing a carrot at him.

“Perfect chance for you to strut your stuff for the one and only mr. kinkle.” Ryan said wiggling his eyebrows to you. You shook your head. “What! C’mon it’s halloween perfect time to make a move and rumor round the locker room is he’s single and looking to mingle.” Dylan said encouraging you. “Now or never, besides out of all the guys at greendale he’s probably the best to date y’know besides the three in front of you.” Jamie said winking jokingly at you.

“Ew i think i just threw up in my mouth at the thought of dating any one of you.” You said causing your friends to burst into joking out rage. You laughed not noticing across the courtyard Harvey’s eyes on you.

Hours had passed, school was over for the week, and the weekend mischief was just beginning. You sat finishing up the final touches to your witch costume, you checked the groupchat to see when Ryan would be swinging around to pick you up. Putting your costume store cloak on to add the finishing touch to your costume you grabbed your phone and went to wait at the front window for Ryan’s car to pull up. You double checked the take one candy bowl that had been left out on your front stoop for the neighborhood kids, knowing that it was already late and no one would come back around you brought the bowl back into your kitchen and left it on the counter next the the note your parents left. They’d gone to some town halloween event and would be back later tonight.

Hearing a car horn and a fear yelps, knowing it was your friends you turned off the lights and locked your front door. “Well, well well, look what we have here!” Dylan yelled from the backseat. “Cast a spell on me, prevent my future hangover!” Jamie said from the passenger seat. “Hurry up! We are walking a fine line between fashionably late and late late.” Ryan said agitated, “you do look great though, y/n.”. You did a twirl then climbed into the backseat with Dylan.

After dancing in the crammed car to several songs and also pregaming with a water bottle filled with coke and rum shared between the four of you. As you rolled up to the party you noticed the cars and the packed front lawn. Halloween was the biggest holiday in greendale so the parties were notoriously big.

“All right party people let’s go.” Dylan said unlocking his door. Ryan immediately relocking it, causing everyone to groan. “If i am in charge of driving you all home, safety brief.” He announced. You snickered and Jamie took a slug of the coke and rum. “One, no vomiting in my car.” He craned his neck towards Jamie who had a record for doing that. Dylan looked over towards you, you stuck your tongue out.

“Two, i am not carrying anyone to their beds this time so... monitor your intake please for my sake and my backs.” He said turning towards Dylan. Dylan put his hands up in a mock surrender. “Aye aye captain!” He said.

“Three, we still have practice tomorrow, so it would be nice to be out of here by 1 latest.” He said as he killed the engine of the car. “Once again i am a perfect angel who never does anything wrong.” You said as you hopped out of the backseat with Dylan. Your friends laughed. “Asshats.” You said walking backwards knocking into someone.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You said turning around to apologize to who you knocked into. Harvey Kinkle dressed in a Sid Vicious costume. You felt yourself turn red. Slightly embarrassed? Slightly turned on from the sight in front of you? The pregaming in the car? Jury was out.

“All good, sick costume. Y/n right?” You swallowed thickly and nodded. “We have chemistry together.” Dylan and Jamie snickered. You turned around giving them a stern look. “mom’s mad.” Ryan whispered and you flicked them off behind your back.

“Thanks and yeah i sit two rows behind you.” You said turning you attention back to Harvey. His eyes stayed on you as if you were some sort of cosmic mystery he wanted to solve.

“I know.” He said cracking a smile and you smiled back. “Awesome. Anyways i guess i’ll see you around?” He nodded and then you parted ways. “Could’ve been worse.” Jamie said slinging his arm around your shoulder. “He knows where you sit.” Dylan said in a teasing tone. “Stop it. He doesn’t like me.” You said as you guys walked into the house.

“I sit next to you and he didn’t bring me up.” Ryan said as he dragged you to the kitchen to get drinks. “Maybe i’m just prettier than you.” You said hopping onto the counter to sit. He rolled his eyes. “You know you are and quit acting like that. If harvey can’t see how fucking awesome you are? He doesn’t deserve you.” He said handing you a spiked shirley temple. You took a sip. “Now loosen up, grow some and get in there.” He said pointing to the corner where Dylan and Jamie were with Harvey and Theo.

“Alright, i’m going in for the kill.” You said giving him a fist bump and weaving your way through the crowd of classmates you hardly knew to get to your friends. Once you made your ways over you noticed Theo in a similar costume to Harvey and you figured they went as the sex pistols.

As the night went on you somehow found yourself alone with Harvey on the roof playing this or that. Your friends had already left and Harvey offered to drive you home since he was already the designated driver for his group of friends.

“Okay, bungee jumping off into a pool of spiders or walk through fire while clowns are at the side.” Harvey side eyed you. “can the spiders be plastic from like walmart?” You pretended to ponder for a minute. “I don’t see why not.”

“I don’t fuck with clowns.” You said taking a sip of the water. “Your turn.” You said your attention from the overview to Harvey once again. “may i kiss you or do you want me to take you home?” Your eyes widened. “ can you repeat yourself?” Harvey swallows thickly, “did you not hear me?” You shook your head. “No i heard you i just want to hear you say it again.” You said smiling.

Harvey moved over closer to you. “may i kiss you?” he asked. You nodded, “You may.” He leaned in putting his arm around your shoulders. There were no words to explain what it felt like to kiss harvey, but every song you’ve ever heard felt about right. Once you both parted he smiled to himself, “what?” you asked.

“You taste like cherries.” He said with a love drunk smile on his face.

#harvey kinkle #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #caos imagine #chilling adventures of sabrina imagine #harvey kinkle imagine #grace writes

96 notes · View notes

ssa-babygirl · 4 years ago

Text

Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep.

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out.

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.”

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him.

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now.

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--”

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory.

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer.

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet.

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did.

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out.

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.”

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow.

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer.

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue��@purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg #cm imagine #cm fan fiction #CM #criminal minds imagine #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds

180 notes · View notes

mightyaphrodytee · 3 years ago

Text

From mid-1976, the year after I turned 16 and got married so I could escape my mother, until late 1977, I was a regular at this disco club. It was pretty famous in our town, mainly because it was in an abandoned grocery store, so it was huge. I think it seated 100 people with room for 100 more in front of the bar and the pool tables. They painted all the walls and floors and high ceilings black, then built an elevated level that ran all the way around, on which vinyl-upholstered booths were built. On the lower, ground level were tables and chairs, small and large, and these, too, ran all the way around. Three things broke up this square: a huge bar all along the back wall, an elevated DJ booth surrounded by mirrors 8 feet tall, and directly in front of it, in the middle of the square, with all the seating basically facing it, was the real jewel in the crown: the gigantic plexiglass dance floor, illuminated from below by multicolored lights that shifted with the music. Nobody had ever seen anything like it. Saturday Night Fever hadn’t happened yet, and by the time it did, I had moved on to strictly rock and roll, FM radio, and marijuana. So in a way, this phase of my life is kind of remarkable when I look back on it now, from 2021.

I may have been underage, but I had a marriage license to wave in the bouncer’s faces. Being married to a 19-year-old meant that I was IN, BABY! (The legal drinking age was 18 in those days.) And eventually, all the ID-checkers knew me, so they just waved me in. We went EVERY weekend. Money for the cover wasn’t a problem, but pitchers of beer required some cash, so we planned for this. How many nights can we afford this week? Who can we get to come with us who could buy the beer? As time passed, I knew our waitress, I knew the DJ, and I knew the other regulars, most of them just to say hi to, so not personally, but by sight. We all had this thing in common: we loved dancing to the music Ronnie played. I hated beer, so I never got drunk. Of course I progressed to rum and Coke, tequila sunrises, and daiquiris. These were better, but if I could taste the alcohol, I barely touched it. Remember: I was an INFANT. In a dance club.

And we dressed UP to go to Magic Music. I mean, we had to serve lewks in 1976 as much as we do today. I can’t remember specifics, unfortunately, as old age starts wiping my hard drive, but gabardine was very in, both for men’s and women’s trousers. I know I had a few pairs. Silky shirts were on for both men and women, too—that awful fake polyester clingy fabric. I don’t remember platform shoes, never wore them since I was six feet tall barefoot, but I remember seeing them on the feet of other girls dancing. In between dances we’d sit in “our” round booth in the corner and watch the couples dancing on the floor. The lights made everyone seem sparkling and beautiful, and we’d drink a little, then Ronnie would play a song I HAD to dance to, and we’d climb down from our nest, walk through the people at the tables, and step up onto that floor, and I’d lose myself. At least for one song.

It was always me, Michael, and his cousin/my best friend Jimmy. I loved dancing with Jimmy—he was like a brother to me, but his sense of rhythm was like mine. We HAD rhythm, for one thing, which Michael absolutely didn’t. Jimmy was smooth, his moves were excellent, and I always had such a good time with him. We did the Hustle so well together, everyone else would let go, and Jimmy and I would keep going, adding more and more embellishments to it. I wasn’t asked to dance much by guys I didn’t know, but it happened sometimes. Michael was very good about it all, but everyone saw me with Michael over and over and over, so they were reluctant to come up to our booth and actually ask me. I turned most of them down. I used to joke that I was an ugly-guy magnet, because every night there was one really unfortunate-looking young man who ALWAYS asked me. So I was pretty much dependent on the boys in our own circle of friends: Jimmy, Donna, Jerry, Linda, Ben, and very rarely, Pamela. Never Gary. Maybe Gary came once, for someone’s birthday, can’t remember. In those days, girls didn’t dance with girls, so I made do with what I had.

But because I was a good dancer, sometimes a guy would ask me to dance to whom I said an automatic YES. Usually these guys were ones I’d already clocked as “cute,” or otherwise taken notice of due to their overall handsomeness (I was a shallow teenager), but more often, I’d know who they were because I’d seen they were great dancers, and I really wanted to dance with all the local greats at least once. You could look like a troll, but if you could really dance, I was yours. For one song, anyway.

Such a strange period in my life. Every time I hear certain songs, they take me right back to that club. Of course, we all smoked like chimneys. We did poppers, which Jimmy introduced us to. I remember we’d get into his car, that sick Dodge Duster with the racing stripes, and take turns with the bottle, inhaling deeply. Jimmy was playing us Donna Summers’ “Love to Love You, Baby,” all excited for us to hear this song for the first time AND do poppers to it. So we did, and my head exploded several times. I eventually stopped doing them when Jimmy did. None of us knew anybody who smoked pot, although I had smoked some in 10th grade and got massively stoned but that’s a whole ‘nother story. We were so innocent. We drank and never thought it would hurt us. We inhaled amyl nitrate on multiple occasions. Once, memorably, while we were dancing to a slow song, Jimmy just jammed the top of the little bottle under my nostril and i reflexively inhaled. Then he laughed as I lost the beat, the steps, the moves, in my altered state.

It’s funny to me now how I really was a Dancing Queen for a couple of years of my life. I doubt anyone who knows me now knows this about me, about this experience that informed my future so much. Well, except for Michael and Jimmy. Towards the end of that time period, I got tired of the steady diet of Donna Summer, The Bee Gees, KC and the Sunshine Band, Kool and the Gang, Earth Wind and Fire, etc. And even though the music had always been the #2 reason we went dancing, Ronnie was playing the occasional song that didn’t fit the mold. You could still dance to it, the beat was steady, but this was a totally different vibe. I heard “Never Been Any Reason” by Head East for the first time at Magic Music. Then Fleetwood Mac released Rumours, and Boston their debut album, and my tastes turned back towards the rock side. They played songs like “More Than A Feeling” and “Don’t Stop,” which I loved.

Nothing lasts forever. Even Studio 54 lived and died in a handful of years. I was 17 when I stopped being a regular. I went a few times by myself after Michael and I broke up and had some good times. Single now, I danced with everybody I wanted. I didn’t need a girlfriend to go with me because I knew everybody who worked there. It felt like my second home in a way. But by then, by the time I was 18, I met the friends who would change my life and show me incredible music I couldn’t hear on the radio unless I got an FM radio with a good antenna, because Dallas was the closest place with an FM rock station. That one was immortal. Rock In Paradise, KZEW-FM, the “Zoo.”

My new friends (a few of whom have died, a few I still count as close friends, and a few who drifted away over time) and my new boyfriend hated disco. In the process of us all getting to know each other, I’d told them the truth: that I was 18, my divorce was pending, and I was a disco club mainstay. I was laughed at, then they got serious about my musical education. I heard Rush, Queen, Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Yes nearly constantly from then on. I kept my Fleetwood Mac and Boston.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? Considering my current state of barely being able to walk ten feet without pain or some bizarre new weird movements of my legs that will make me likely to fall and bruise up my arms. It’s hard to believe that I was once 17, let alone the Dancing Queen of Magic Music.

Oh AND Jimmy came out to us in the middle all this. That’s how little I knew about the world: it never occurred to me that his poppers, his dance moves, or his idolization of the divas of disco were any kind of clues to anything. We didn’t suspect even when he started bringing his friend Ed (whom he brought along several times and introduced to us as his “coworker” and who never said much or danced)—I mean, when he came out to us, everything clicked into place. And we (and by we I mean I) were fascinated by his confession that he and Ed were in love and moving in together. Ed would just sit at the table, smoking, watching Jimmy and me dance, and I always thought that dreamy look on his face as he watched was because of how great we were together. Past me was very self-conscious about my height, but on that dance floor I was a queen.

Life is soooo funny.

#dancing queen #disco #1976 #true story

3 notes · View notes

bellatrixxmarierose · 4 years ago

Text

Possibly an Addict *Trigger Warning*

Not sure how to start this but here we go. When I was 10 I drank for the first time not knowing what it was my mother never told me about things like that I guess she didn't feel the need to until moving to a certain place where she said I became a "trouble maker". But anyway a new friend of mine had brought Rum and Coke to school and offered me some and we had a few classes together so her, myself and another friend of ours were passing this drink around for a couple classes. I didn't get drunk though I didn't even learn what exactly I was drinking until I got home that day. That was a fun talk I had to have with my mom about alcohol. I got drunk for the first time at a different friends slumber party about 2 months later, I turned 11 a few weeks prior, anyway her cousin was 4 years older and had a couple bottles of Jack with her and me always wanting to grow up way to fast drank with her. After that night I continued to hang out with her even sneak out at night, which the first night she literally cut my screen open to get me out of the window because it was not budging trying to be pulled up or out(that was fun to lie about to my mother later). Yes, at 11 years old I was sneaking out to go drink and other things this post is not about. I will admit I did other things that did become a problem in my life and I know I was addicted to and thank goodness I have been clean from it for almost 8 years now. With that being said this post is about alcohol as you can see the pattern. She and I were close friends at night mostly with the occasional skip school to go get totally fucked up days or get totally wrecked before school. This friendship lasted for several months before she went away, not by choice. But after that I started to sneak my step fathers rum straight from the bottle and back then I didn't think to replace it with water. He noticed but never confronted me on it. At 12 he allowed me and my new best friend, who I am still friends with to this day just not as close life and all that, but anyway on holidays and special occasions he allowed us to have one drink and one night I got really drunk. My mother and step father didn't realize I had already been drinking prior to the dinner we were having, that was the first time they had seen me drunk and told me I needed to stay home for the rest of the night. After that it wasn't so bad I could control myself a lot of the time. So my mother and step father didn't think it was a problem. I moved yet again this time back to my birth state at 12 and like I said before I was good at controlling myself a lot of the time with alcohol anyway. The times where I wasn't so good at controlling myself were the parties my family would have or occasionally steal tequila from my step father. When I was 13 at one of my Aunt's big parties my step father put my uncles 30 something year old nephew(No relation to me)up to getting me really drunk so I wouldn't want to drink again. It backed fired on him in more ways than one I ended up doing things(not sex but other sexual things) with this 30 something year old man while very drunk and also woke up the next day completely fine no hangover whatsoever much to his dismay. My step father eventually decided if I was going to drink it's better at home where I can't get into trouble. So he stopped caring if I stole his liquor because I was home doing it and not out getting myself into trouble. I had friends over once got drunk and hooked up with a friend who was a girl and apparently straight and lets just say after that night we weren't friends anymore. Things just got awkward after that drunken night together. Well for her I had been openly bisexual for a bit by this point. When I was 15 I started getting drunk with a very good friend of mine, who I am also still friends with, but anyway this time it wasn't at home it was at her house and while drunk we always and I do mean always ended up walking from one town to the other. I still to this day have no idea how we didn't get caught or die. At 16 before I moved again I got drunk with this

friend, her bf, and his friend this time we just stayed at her house, but her bf went from having sex with her to trying with me in front of her his friend had to pull him off me and out the door because neither me or my friend was okay with it even drunk me was not having it. After I moved I had started controlling myself again...a bit. I moved in with my Omie(Grandma) I had a bottle that looked like a bowling pin that was empty when I moved in with her so she would think it was just something I thought was cool. I ended up pouring southern comfort into it later she never knew. She had only caught me drinking one night when I was across the trailer park at my friends she had gotten a phone call saying I was drinking and while drunk I lied through my teeth and made myself so convincing that I was sober she let me go back over for the night. 17 comes along and I am drinking before school again literally walked down the road to my friends house did several jello shots then got the bus to school. Same friends house had a party I not only drank but did a certain drug I had a huge problem with already like I did more than usual of both that night. My lips turned dark blue, I was shaking uncontrollably, and threw up a few times this was also not too long after I had surgery so yeah not the best idea. There's a lot that wasn't said things too hard to talk about that have happened to me and things I did while intoxicated. But being a kid and teen I thought maybe I'm just being a normal teenager and so did my step father and mother. Looking at my adult years I have been so much better at controlling myself with alcohol except when my mental health is really bad...most of the time. I spoke about how the love of my life was an alcoholic in my post "How I lost my mind again" but what I didn't say was my own struggle I constantly want to drink but don't other times are easy not to, some aren't. But since losing the love of my life in October I have just wanted to escape the pain in any way possible. I got drunk off and on until Christmas. Then just completely threw myself into Teen Wolf that I had already watched all the way through a few times before and was in the middle of again because it's my favorite show. But I have been keeping my mind busy off the pain of everything with this show and reading fanfiction about Thiam and reading into all these things about the show...until a couple days ago when I realized that it's getting closer to our 8 year anniversary(May 26). Now it has become harder to keep my mind busy and all I want to do is down bottles of vodka. Funny thing is I had a decent day today, but then night came and I found myself buying 2 bottles of Kissed Caramel Vodka that wont be delivered until tomorrow morning. I don't know if I have a drinking problem because I can control myself at times and then other times I can't. But I do know when I start drinking I have a hard time stopping.

#Teen Wolf #Thiam #alcohol #alcohlism #drug addict #mental health awareness #tw triggers #Depression #depressing post #grief #Loss #bellatrixxmarierose #vodka

10 notes · View notes

withkun · 4 years ago

Text

volcanic | wong lucas

word count: 4.5k

pairing: female graduate student! reader x fratboy! lucas

genre: enemies to lovers au

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol

a/n: yesterday i had a dream about going on a date with lucas so you can thank @god for inspiring this mess. also the last person i slept with was a trump supporter and kinda inspired the relationship... i have regrets.

You hated admitting it to yourself, but you were instantly drawn to Lucas when he first entered the ballroom. Along with his trademark dashing smile, he disregarded the dress code and opted for a formal, black-tie suit. If you hadn’t known better, you would have guessed he was a famous actor or a prince out of a fairy tale. Of course, his entrance garnered everyone’s attention as well. Whispers and quiet giggles began to flood the room.

Flustered, you tore yourself away from him and reached for a small flask buried at the bottom of your purse. Emergency vodka could go a long way on nights like these.

“A bit early, don’t you think?” a smug voice arose.

You gritted your teeth and brought the flask to your lips, then ignored the burning sensation slipping down your throat. “Not at all,” you murmured, your voice almost a growl.

Without prompt, Lucas pulled the flask from your hands and helped himself to a sip. “Svedka,” he complained. “Definitely too early for that.”

You watched him down the remainder of the liquor, your anger beginning to boil. “Don’t you have to prepare yourself for the pageant?”

He eyed you, seemingly finding amusement in your fury. “I am,” Lucas assured you. “I’m actually campaigning right now.”

“I’m not voting for you,” you told him, a self-satisfied grin replacing your scowl.

Unphased, Lucas offered you a wink. “We’ll see,” he said in a sing-song voice, then left you to your devices and an empty flask.

Before you could chase after him and demand replacement vodka, your student organization beckoned you to their table. Begrudgingly, you slumped over and plopped into your chair. Your table consisted of the other members of the executive board, being Taeyong, Johnny, Taeil, Yuta, Jaehyun, and Doyoung. “I will pay everyone at this table fifty dollars to not vote for Lucas,” you muttered, half-serious with a glance to Taeyong. “Back me up Mr. Club President.”

Taeyong widened his eyes, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “We’re just here as a courtesy,” he laughed awkwardly. “Try not to stir any trouble.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, with the knowledge that he was right. The APIDA Graduate Student Organization rarely involved itself in any undergraduate matters, but sometimes aligned with their APIDA counterparts for events like this especially seeing as most of their members once were a part of those groups. Arguably, the Mr. Asia pageant was the most important conglomerate event of the year. Each Asian, Pacific Islander, and Desi undergrad student org sent one representative each year to compete for the title of Mr. Asia. The representatives would prepare a talent portion, then partake in a question and answer session. Other attendees would dress to the nines, often seeing the event as an opportunity to flex. Most, however, did not flex to Lucas’ extent. They were also served a meal to be shared with other club members. After, attendees would cast their votes and crown that year’s Mr. Asia.

“No,” you deadpanned, already rummaging through Johnny’s backpack. “Unless maybe you keep me drunk this entire evening. Then I might consider.”

Of course, you knew it was only a matter of time until Lucas ran with his fraternity, Pi Delta Psi, or PDPsi for short. You were hoping you’d graduate before that happened. And yet, in your sixth year at the university you found yourself subjected to the terrors of frat boy Lucas gloating more than usual.

Johnny offered you his coke upon seeing your distress, and you were not surprised to taste an exuberant amount of rum. You wrinkled your face, but still refused to return the mixed drink. Johnny and Jaehyun shared a laugh as you downed the drink. “If I make you another drink will you forgive us for voting for Lucas,” Johnny inquired, his bottom lip pouted.

Meanwhile, Taeil passed his water bottle to you. An inauspicious clear liquid to the untrained eye, but you knew better. You looked positively giddy pouring yourself a glass of lemonade followed with a solid two shots worth of Taeil’s vodka. “You rich boy,” you accused jokingly. “Out here with Tito’s.” With a grateful smile, you offered, “But you are officially my favorite and hereby ‘best boy.’”

Yuta snatched the bottle and poured some in his water before Jaehyun could get his grimy hands on it. “Petition to all vote for Mark Lee,” he said, prompting the club for a cheers.

Your fellow members clinked glasses just as the lights began to dim. With a relaxed sigh, you whispered, “Hear, hear!” At least the booze hit before you had to see Lucas parade around on stage.

The event went as it did each year, Lucas taunting you with knowing smirks occurring as it always did. This time, you had to endure it with him from the spotlight. You made it a game to send him goofy, tipsy expressions that were often accompanied by finger guns and hearts in hopes of throwing him off. Lucas, unbothered, continued with his act. His confidence only seemed to grow.

However, you had not anticipated Lucas’ performance in the talent show. The performance began slowly as Lucas executed a graceful traditional Chinese dance. The music suddenly changed tempo, and your jaw practically dropped to the table when he ripped off his shirt. You knew he was ripped, but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his sculpted body. Your increasingly drunk mind went forbidden places before you snapped out of it.

Your friends noticed your cheeks burning red and stifled laughter as Lucas closed his performance. You felt his eyes on your back, your head buried in your hands.

“Oooooh,” Jaehyun teased, “He’s looking at you.”

Although a few seats away, you managed to land a solid knee kick that elicited a sharp yelp from the boy. “He’s not,” you said defensively.

Even Taeyong let out a quiet laugh. “You’ve been flirting for years…”

“You think that excessively hating each other is flirting?” you inquired incredulously.

The boys exchanged looks and knowing smiles, a familiar ritual that occurred each time you and Lucas interacted.

Frustrated, you rose from your seat and made even strides to the restroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, cheeks still ablaze from embarrassment. To your gratitude, you still looked fairly sober otherwise.

You almost jumped when you heard a couple knocks on the restroom door. “Occupied,” you called out.

The handle twisted to reveal a sweaty Lucas, peeking curiously through the crack. “Is it just you?”

“Yes,” your answered with a bitter tone. “What can I help you with in this esteemed ladies’ restroom?”

“Hold out your hands,” he ordered.

You obliged but raised your eyebrows in confusion. Lucas carefully placed a Pepcid capsule in hand, a bottle of water in the other. “What?”

Lucas shrugged. “I get Asian glow really bad too,” he replied, “unless if there’s another reason your cheeks are read.

Overzealous, you swallowed the pill and downed the entire bottle of water. “We both know it’s Asian glow,” you said defensively.

“You’re welcome!” Lucas said, already half out the door.

And once more, he left you stunned and silent.

In your purse, your phone began to buzz with frantic messages from the boys. Jaehyun made fun of you for already breaking the seal, while Taeyong demanded that you respond before he calls an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. A third unknown number accompanied the texts with an invite to the PDPsi after party that night.

You returned to your table to find that the pageant had already moved into the question and answer portion. Mark Lee excitedly described his plans to bring more of the university clubs together for common causes. That meant Lucas was on deck.

Thankfully, the Pepcid worked some of its magic and brought your cheeks back to a normal color. You almost felt sober again. Still, Lucas’ actions muddled your mind.

With a polite bow, Lucas concluded his session and prompted the closing of the pageant.

Lucas took the stage and elicited quite a few cheers. His frat brothers startled the room as they let out a deep chant in support. Graciously, Lucas approached the microphone and once more glanced in your direction. Without expression, you offered him a thumbs up which he appeared to appreciate.

He surprised you once more with his articulate and thought out answers before you remembered his background. His father, an industrious and well-known businessman in Eastern Asia, likely prepared him for moments like this. Lucas may have been an untouchable playboy, but he was also poised to become a part of his father’s company. Still, you felt a certain genuity to his words despite that.

You turned your attention to your cell phone and took in the options. As your thumb hovered over Mark Lee’s name, you could not stop your eyes from wandering to Lucas’. Biting your lip, you hesitantly selected Lucas.

Within a few moments, the results were in and the MCs called the contestants to the stage. You refused to look at Lucas, instead focusing intently on your restless hands.

You expected to hear Lucas’ name, but instead heard Mark Lee announced as 2020’s Mr. Asia.

Following the applause, the MCs bid everyone a good night. Johnny addressed the table, “We’re all going to PDPsi’s after party, right?”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Lucas clowning around with his frat brothers, then turned back to your friends. “Do we have to?”

“Absolutely,” Doyoung responded, eliciting flabbergasted responses from the table.

They all stared at you expectantly, knowing that you were cornered. If Doyoung wanted to party, an event none of them would have ever predicted, then you would have to see that through. “Fuck y’all,” you grunted.

A couple hours later, you arrived as a group at the notorious PDPsi frat house with a few handles. You hadn’t changed your outfit, but the boys ensured that you at least let your hair down from your high ponytail and touch up your makeup. They convinced themselves that the night was finally upon them, the night where you and Lucas would finally hook up. Despite their protests, you looked essentially the same. You wore mostly light makeup, but maybe got overzealous applying highlighter. You adorned the same black neck top tucked into a short argyle skirt, but with different shoes. The boys made you wear your “slut shoes,” which were basically just a pair of thigh-high suede black boots. In your hasty attempt to get ready, you barely had time to drink.

The party already was in full swing, and you could easily hear the music from a couple houses down. Beer cans and empty white claws littered the front lawn. A few people played beer pong on the front deck, but they had only filled the cups with water. The boys paired off amongst themselves in preparation for the drinking game, leaving you without a partner. Just as you began to complain, Lucas appeared at your side. “Hey, Y/N, I’m claiming you as my beer pong partner. Oh, and we’re next.”

Lucas practically dragged you away. “I’m terrible at beer pong,” you attempted to dissuade him.

Indifferent, Lucas made the first shot and gave your team the advantage of going first. “Here, I’m better at going second.” He pushed the ping pong ball in your hand.

You considered your options for a second. “You’re lucky I hate losing more than I hate you.” With that sentiment, you watched your ball splash into the back-right cup.

He grinned. “I knew it.”

Despite being a frat boy, AKA master of all party games, Lucas did not have a consistent shot. Still, you fended off the opposing team until you were down to the last cup. Two consecutive shots in and they would win. “Let’s make this interesting,” you offered. “If you miss your shot, you have to do whatever I want.”

With a knowing a smile, Lucas agreed. “If I make it, then you have to do whatever I want.”

You nodded, your confidence swelling, then gleefully watched your ball land perfectly centered in the last cup. And to your horror, you watched Lucas do the same thing.

“Oh, humble winner,” you decreed sarcastically, “what it is that you seek?”

To no one’s surprise, Lucas replied, “I want you to kiss me.”

You saw it coming, but that didn’t mean you were any less disgruntled. In a classic, you-like fashion, you launched into a rant. “Seriously, Lucas?? You’re a robot set to fuck boy mode and I will not be a part of it- “

He took your arm and pulled you away from the deck, into an alleyway. “You lost the bet,” Lucas reminded you. “And all you have to do is uphold your part of the deal.” He gestured around the empty space. “No one will even see it.”

You caught your breath, still enraged. “I was just going to make you find a new beer pong partner if I won. And maybe take a shot.”

“I wish you’d stop denying that there’s something between us.”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t bring your eyes to his and left them trained on the pavement. You never denied that you felt attracted to him. Yet, you also despised him for how perfect everyone perceived him to be. You saw another frat boy when you looked at him, nothing special. “What is there between us,” you asked cautiously.

“You try a little too hard to hate me, don’t you think?” Lucas pulled your chin up to meet his gaze.

Damn it. Sometimes he was too good. With him watching you so closely, you knew you couldn’t lie. “And what game are you playing now?”

“I’m not playing any games,” Lucas answered with sincerity.

Your mind whirling, you pressed your lips against his only for a second. Just a quick peck, nothing more. “And there you have it, humble winner. I’ll be inside drinking myself into an oblivion.”

Lucas grabbed your wrist before you could run off and pulled you closer for another kiss. This one, longer and deeper than before. You couldn’t help but melt into it and wrap your arms around his neck. Soon his tongue danced softly with yours, and you knew you were in for it. He had you.

You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath and gather your thoughts, but Lucas attached his lips to your neck and made his way to your ear. He planted soft kisses along its shape, then lightly bit your ear lobe. His heavy breaths in your ear made a knot in your stomach tighten. “I can’t believe I voted for you,” you admitted, your inhibitions disappearing.

You felt him smile as he kissed your lips once again. “I voted for Mark,” he murmured.

For the first time, he had you laughing genuinely. “In what kind of world do I vote for you and you vote for Mark Lee?” With that, you pressed your body closer to his, close enough to feel a growing bulge grind against your core. Teasing, you drew your hips back and forth.

Lucas soon grew impatient, and growled in your ear, “You’re driving me crazy. We’re going to my bedroom.”

“Not until I say so.” You attached your lips to his again, continuing to rock your hips.

His breath hitched in his throat, and you knew you had the power. Seeming to catch himself, he grabbed your wrists and held them against the brick wall behind you. “I want you,” he said airily, “all of you.”

“Fine,” you agreed, accepting the stalemate. “But no one sees us.”

You snuck around to the back yard first, praying that no one would question her messy hair and how red her lips must have been. Thankfully, you only saw Doyoung who acknowledged your presence with a knowing nod. At least you knew he wouldn’t snitch... most likely.

You skimmed you hand across his book shelf, retrieving his copy of Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. The pages were marred with messy annotations in Chinese and English, so many you could not understand.

Lucas directed you to the far left bedroom on the frat house’s second floor. You stepped over beer cans and finally made your way there. Inside, you were almost surprised with how tidy everything was. He was a fuck boy, but damned if he didn’t keep his room up to A

sian parent standards.

Behind you, you heard the door open and lock click. Lucas pushed you against the bookcase, causing you to drop the book. “I was reading,” you managed as his hands wandered up and down your body and stopping to cup your breasts.”Didn’t take you for a Vonnegut guy.”

He lifted you, bridal style and tossed you onto the bed with ease. “I’m not just a fuck boy,” Lucas said, climbing over you. “I also read books for class.”

“You’re depth is astounding,” you mocked playfully. “I didn’t know you actually do your assignments.”

In response, he lifted his henley shirt over his head and once more revealed his toned torso and upper body. “I’ve changed a lot since I was a freshman, I thought you paid more attention.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “Like when you banged half of the AKDPhi sorority girls two years ago.”

“Okay, that was exaggerated,” Lucas grinned, hooking his fingers the hem of your skirt. “I haven’t slept with anyone in a year.”

You pulled your shirt off, prompting Lucas to dispose of your skirt as well. You were left in just your nude bra and panties, and Lucas breathless. “I find that hard to believe,” you scoffed, your tone a bit softer. “Are you going to tell me you’re secretly a virgin as well?”

“I mean,” Lucas scratched his head, “I used to get around.”

You took his moment of weakness in stride, moving so that you were on top of him. You registered the surprise on his face and let out a laugh. “Do you forget that I’m older than you, maybe even more experienced?”

As you undid Lucas’ belt, your eyes met. Both full of hunger and desire. A part of you felt as if you were making a bad decision, becoming another name for him to add to his list. Even so, you didn’t care. You hadn’t felt so alive since you dated your first boyfriend. Everything felt like a rush then, every kiss and every glance. Losing your virginity hadn’t even felt as good as these playful moments together.

With Lucas’ help, you removed his jeans. Both you were similarly half naked, only undergarments shielding the rest of your bodies. In that moment, you finally saw your similarities. Thirsty for control over the way you were perceived, a love for power, and longing for each other. “What do you see in me?” you inquired.

“Someone who could easily kick my ass,” he replied, his tone light but entirely serious. “I can’t believe I managed to get you in my bed.”

You scoffed. “I chose to be here, and I’m the one who made you want it.”

Lucas conceded, leaning up to kiss you, “That’s true. I’ve never dated someone that gives me such a hard time.”

“We’re not dating,” you prompted. “I only hate you slightly less now.”

“You’re the most interesting person I ever met,” Lucas said woefully. “And what do you see in me?”

“A clown,” you answered without hesitation. “Boo-boo the fool, if you will.”

You didn’t stop his hands as the reached for your bra clasp and let it fall off your chest.

“But you’re also sweeter and more genuine than I thought you could be,” you granted. “Thank you for the Pepcid, by the way.”

And with that, you pulled down his boxer briefs. His already hard length popped out, You maintained eye contact as you ran your tongue along the shaft, closing your mouth at the tip. Once again, you continued this motion and began to suckle his testicles and flicker your tongue as your hand firmly stroked his dick. He lost himself, groaning and muttering, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You loved seeing him like this, completely bent to your will. Returning your attention to the tip, you ran your thumb gently across the slit before replacing it with your mouth. You bobbed your head along the length and urged yourself to take more and more. Lucas encouraged you, his fingers tangling in your hair and guiding your motions. With almost its entirety reaching the back of your throat, you gagged.

Honestly, you could’ve went on like this for hours, but Lucas roughly flipped you over and dragged his index finger over your panties. You shuddered as it ran over your clit, then down to the wet spot you left. “My turn.”

In a swift motion, Lucas slid the panties down your legs and threw them aside. Lucas stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight of your naked, waiting body. He wasted no time in pushing your legs back, fully exposing you, and planted butterfly kisses along your thighs. His flat tongue lapped from your entrance and up to your clit, then down again. The anticipation almost made you lose your mind. He closed his lips on your clit, tongue to circling the sensitive bud. You never realized how big his hands were until he slid a finger inside of you. The overwhelming sensation had you gasping, begging for more. And then he slid another finger alongside it, pumping rhythmically as his tongue continued to work on your clit.

You had slept with a few partners before, but none left you as unhinged as Lucas. The pleasure built, somehow rendering you more helpless to his whim, and its release almost had you screaming.

In your shock, you sat up and looked at Lucas with bewilderment. “No one has ever made me come before.” To your embarrassment, it was true. You either grew tired and faked it or they never even made an attempt.

With a devilish look in his eyes, he sucked the two fingers that had previously been inside you. “Maybe you should have given in sooner.”

“Oh, just shut the fuck up and fuck me already.”

He went to open his cabinet drawer beside his bed and searched for a condom. “Protection first.”

You laid back on the bed, still catching your breath. “I’m on the pill,” you confided. “As long as you don’t have the clap, we’ll be fine.”

“Good thing I only have chlamydia.” Lucas kissed you, the taste of your orgasm still on his lips, and positioned himself at your entrance.

His forehead rested on yours, eyes cast down to where your bodies met. Slowly, he thrusted inside you, eliciting your moans. He moved his hips delicately, making you feel every inch bury itself deeper. Instead of immediately jackhammering it in, Lucas took his sweet time and chose his own pace. He brought his lips to your nipple, suckling on it softly. You couldn’t believe his patience.

“I’m going on top,” you managed, pushing Lucas down where you had laid. Although already turned on, you wanted to see Lucas squirm the way he had you. You brought your folds over his cock, driving him just as mad as you predicted. When you finally allowed him back in, he attempted to thrust upward. You shut him down, resting your hands on his pecs. “And now I’m in control,” you gloated. You ground your hips and then slowly brought yourself up and down. “So I’m going to do what I want,” you whispered into his ear.

He looked up to you, an animal-like glare present in his eyes. “Don’t forget who made you come.”

You sped your pace, willfully doing all the work. This time, you wanted Lucas to know he couldn’t do anything but allow himself to be used. And he watched you losing yourself on top of him, never having been more turned on in his life.

As you slowed, he brought your chin down for a chaste kiss. A trick, you realized, but too late, he thrusted into you this time much faster. You felt the hints of another orgasm budding, and involuntarily tightened your walls. Lucas felt the shift, drawing himself out. “You’re not going to come until I want you too.”

Before you could protest, Lucas aligned his head below your womanhood and pulled you in closer. His hands attached to your hips, encouraging you to rock yourself on his tongue. “You’re really something,” you murmured, obliging to his whims.

He murmured against you, sending vibrations up your spine. Soon enough, he had you writhing in your orgasm all over again.

Still unfinished himself, he positioned you on your hands and knees. Lucas pushed himself inside you, then slapped your ass. “God, your body...”

You couldn’t support yourself as he vigorously fucked you, but allowed your hand to float to your clit. As Lucas increase his pace, you felt your breath hitch. His thrusts became sloppier, and you realized he was close as well. Unable to hold out longer, you came again. Lucas followed shortly after, coming onto your back as you laid there, nearly exhausted. He produced a towel and wiped the excess off.

Lucas fell next to you, out of breath, and nearly exhausted. “Wow,” he muttered.

You rose from the bed, still shaking and legs a bit sore. “I’ll be in the shower. You’re welcome to join me as long as there’s no hanky panky.”

“No promises,” Lucas smiled, slowly gathering himself. “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

You, still naked, walked to Lucas’ bathroom with a sway in your step. Just to mess with him. He gave you a moment for yourself while you turned on the shower and stepped in. You felt as if you were in a different reality, being in Lucas’ bathroom and just having had sex with Lucas Wong. You wondered if the rest of your student organization would be surprised, but suspected that they wouldn’t. Maybe Doyoung would’ve have filled them in when you didn’t return to your shared apartment with Yuta.

Lucas came in soon after, still eyeing your body the way he was before. “You can stay the night if you want, maybe get breakfast tomorrow.”

You kneaded some shampoo into his hair, and repressed a smile. It was like he read your mind. “I suppose so,” you attempted to be casual.

“And back to the dating thing,” Lucas began, “maybe we should try it.”

“Is that code for you want to have sex with me again?”

“I won’t deny that’s part of it,” Lucas admitted.

You turned from him to face the faucet, and felt him behind you once again. This time, you felt comforted by his embrace. “We’ll see how breakfast goes,” you offered.

He laughed, a low sweet sound prompting you to smile. You let yourself go in the moment, enjoying the feeling the water cascade down your skin and Lucas’ presence warming your body. “You’re never going to stop giving me a hard time, are you?”

You shook your head.

OLucas turned you to face him, descending his lips onto yours. “I wouldn’t want you to stop.”

#nct #wayv #superm #wong yukhei #wong lucas #nct lucas #nct fic #yukhei fic #nct au #nct lucas au #yukhei smut #nct smut #lucas smut #lucas scenario #smut #yukhei scenario #yukhei imagines #lucas x reader #yukhei x leader

196 notes · View notes

laurenairay · 4 years ago

Note

Congrats on 400! How awesome is that? And please, number 3, "you're an idiot." "But I'm your idiot." kinda has Teeks written all over it! Have fun! 💙

Hi anon! Thank you, that’s so sweet! I hope you enjoy this one, I had a lot of fun with it!

“You’re an idiot” “But I’m your idiot”

Coffee. You needed coffee. And toast with butter and something greasy. Bacon? Hash browns? Ugh, literally anything. Good god last night’s party with Travis and his team had been a wild one. Frosty had turned 21, and Kevin had offered to host a big team celebration at his house, so naturally it had been absolute chaos.

You had drunk enough last night to give yourself that wonderful groggy feeling with a mild headache, having had a fair few shots with the birthday boy himself and a steady flow of rum and coke after that , but other than Carter (who hadn’t drank at all), most of the guys had gotten absolutely trashed - including Travis.

True to form he’d been the life of the party, hyping up the team to celebrate Frosty in the best way, but he had gone so far off the drunken cliff that he kept telling everyone how great you were and how lucky he is to be dating you. Over and over and over again, in the most sloppy endearing way, like an overgrown clumsy puppy. Not that you didn’t appreciate how sweet and affectionate he had been, but wow was he going to regret all the chirping material he’d given his teammates.

What had all started so well quickly turned a couple of hours in when you were getting a fresh drink. Travis had clearly decided you were taking too long and had come to find you...

“Baby where have you been?!”

Travis stumbled over your little group, making you smile fondly at him as you shook your head. What a lush. But as soon as he reached you and you turned your head back to look at Ryanne, Travis brought his hand down sharply on your ass, a loud smack sounding as well as your yelp of surprise.

“Teeks!” you laughed, whacking a hand at his chest as you blushed furiously. Claude, Ryanne, Coots and Laurence were all sniggering, even more so at the pleased look on your boyfriend’s face.

“Oh you are going to be in so much trouble tomorrow,” Claude smirked.

But Travis just grinned. “Nah, I’m the luckiest guy in the world, getting to touch that amazing ass,”

Oh jeez. That just made everyone laugh harder as your jaw dropped.

“Luckiest guy in the world, huh?” Ryanne teased, winking at you.

“So lucky. Lucky lucky lucky me,” Travis slurred, sliding an arm around your waist, looking down at you with a smile.

You rolled your eyes, blush still lightly on your cheeks, but lifted your head up and pressed your lips to his in a quick kiss. He may be as subtle as a brick wall but he meant well, and you couldn’t be mad at him for that.

“Luckiest boyfriend ever,” Travis murmured in your ear, lips stretched in a smile against your skin.

You still remembered the feeling of the sting of his ass slap, a smile spreading across your lips at the memory. What could easily have been a super embarrassing moment, Travis had somehow managed to charm his way into making it a sappy endearing moment.

And that had only been the start.

Between grinding on your ass on the make-shift dancefloor, reminding the rookies at how smart & beautiful you were, pulling you into constant kisses and beaming at you afterwards, bringing you fresh drinks & the occasional water and sighing happily whenever you thanked him...it had been so sweet. You knew that both Carter and Nolan had taken video evidence of him being an absolute mess, especially when he bragged to Ryanne about how wonderful he thought you were (Carter had promised to send you a copy), and you knew that his phone would be full of messages of chirps and teasing - and to be honest it was probably all well deserved, bless him.

But your favourite moment had to be as you were by the front door saying your goodbyes to Kevin, and Travis had finally joined you...

Travis hummed happily as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, making you giggle as Kevin grinned widely, even more so as Travis buried his face in your neck.

“Are you okay there babe?” you asked, squeezing your hands over his.

“Mmhmm! You smell so good,” Travis sighed happily, “I’m so lucky I get to smell you all the time,”

Oh my god. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, Kevin joining you loudly, and Travis whined at your reaction.

“That was weird, wasn’t it,” Travis huffed, standing upright with a pout.

“Yeah just a bit,” Kevin snickered. Oh yeah there was no way Kevin was going to forget this, and there was no way he wasn’t teasing Travis tomorrow.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you said fondly, linking your hand with his.

Travis’s face lit up in a grin. “You think I’m cute?” he said happily, “oh boy!”

An unhappy groan broke you out of your thoughts, and you hid your laughter in your coffee as Travis shuffled into the kitchen. He looked like hell, hair limp and greasy, eyes bleary, skin pale with nausea...not his best.

“I feel like death,” he moaned.

“Look like it too,” you teased.

Travis just groaned again, slumping into the seat next to you, making you laugh as he stole your coffee.

“So why did I do this time?” he sighed, looking blearily at you.

You smirked. Travis looked more and more embarrassed as you filled him in on the evening, his face flaring in a fierce blush at his antics, until he buried his face in his hands.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?” he sighed, although his eyes were sparkling with laughter.

“Nope! There’s definitely video and Kevin wasn’t that drunk as we said goodbye. You might not want to check your phone,” you grinned.

Travis whined, throwing his head back, making you laugh. “You’re an idiot,” you snickered.

“But I’m your idiot,” Travis shrugged, batting his eyelashes at you.

“Yeah you are,” you grinned, making Travis beam at you.

He leant over towards you, looping a hand around the back of your head to pull you into a kiss. You smiled against his lips, brushing your tongue against his, earning a sigh from your boyfriend. As his thumb brushed against your hair, your stomach filled with butterflies, and you broke the kiss with a happy smile. Travis looked a little less bleary now at least.

“I need to shower this hangover away - do you want to join me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think I could manage that,” he grinned.

#lauren reaches 400!#prompt list blurb #travis konecny #travis konecny blurb #dumbass but we love him

37 notes · View notes

dazed--xx · 5 years ago

Text

Beside you

Request: Hello could I have an arranged marriage with Jungkook with a bit of angst but fluff at the end. Thank you xx

Summary: "You may kiss the bride" The hesitation evident on his face. My heart is racing and reality sets in “um…Jungkook?” He rolls his eyes and places a light kiss on my lips. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me."

Genre: ANGST, light fluff, smut

TW: None

Word Count: 5,092

A/N: SO i know you specifically asked for fluff at the end but i dont think this is the end of this i might make a part 2 if part 1 gets enough traction any way. I hope you enjoy the few bits i did do from what you asked REQUESTS ARE OPEN

edit: REWRITE UPLOADED 10/13/2021

———————————————————————————————————–

““You may kiss the bride” The hesitation evident on his face. My heart is racing and reality sets in “um…Jungkook?” He rolls his eyes and places a light kiss on my lips. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers “Just know this will be the last time you ever get to kiss me.” Tears begin stinging my eyes, as we walk down the aisle as an officially married couple, hand and hand, much to Jungkook’s dismay. We rush through the double doors of the church and disappear in the car placed in the front if the building of worship.

Once we got in the car Jungkook retracted his hand and the empty feeling takes over again. Jungkook doesn’t love me this is just a business inconvenience to him. IM just some stupid business deal, something for Jungkook to correct as he does with all his other projects, only difference is I’m not some company he can break apart and sell. I’m a person as much as he refuses to accept it. Since our fathers have agreed the only way Jungkook would be able to acquire and run my father’s company is if I become is wife as some type of fail-safe of preventing Jungkook from selling off the company and running away like he’s done so often after his business dealings.

At the reception Jungkook disappeared as soon as we walked through the door. To the bar as expected of him to drink as I’m in need of liquid courage to make it through the rest of the night. Slowly I make my way around the room greeting Jungkook’s family, as he sits with the vixen of a bartender, a sensual smile plastered on his face with a rum and coke in his hand. “Y/N you have to tell me… are you and my Jungkookie going to give me grandchildren.” His mother asks smile on her face, excitement evident. I feel the words get caught in my throat, GRANDCHILDREN? WITH HOW HE TREATS ME…...? HELL, NO THAT MAN IS NOT TOUCHING ME. As if on cue my eyes shift to look for Jungkook at the bar but he and the bartender are no longer there. Of fucking course, he took HER somewhere to fuck at OUR wedding. Almost immediately after your disappointment of a wedding, you’re shipped off on your honeymoon. You spend most days in Mykonos, alone Jungkook wanting to explore Greece with beautiful Greek women.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last night of your honeymoon Jungkook crashes in your shared room drunk off his ass, a loud laugh escaping his lips as he shushes the mirror next to the entrance. “Fuck be quiet Jungkook don’t wake up Y/N remember” He scolds himself. You can hear the childish groan that releases from his lip “No I wanna wake up Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrow, at his drunken figure. Did he not see you on the couch? “Jungkook?” you asked confused. His head whipping around quickly; a huge smile plastered on his face “Y/N!! I got you wine and a couple of more things” He exclaims staggering across the room “I-I shouldn’t be the only one having fun on our honeymoon right” taking a seat right next to you on the couch as he drops a brown bag in your lap. “O-oh um” “Please.... I wanna have fun with you, it’s so boring to keep talking to people I don’t understand and don’t understand me.” You sit there in shock just staring at his openly chatty self “Please take some shots get drunk with me you never let loose” He begs as he reaches in the bag on your lap pulling out some nips.

After a while you and Jungkook find your drunken selves on the beach, Jungkook laughing as you struggle to walk with the sand beneath your feet. Music rang in the air from one of the clubs near your villa, “Dance with me Y/N” Jungkook exclaims as he grabs your hand pulling you into his frame. His hands finding their way to your waist, guiding them against his hips. A soft groan releases from his lips as your drunken form begins dancing to the music. Turning yourself around pressing your ass against his now hard member.

Both of you completely oblivious to the sensual way your bodies move against each other. Jungkook's hands firmly placed on your waist, His head resting on your shoulder as your hand reaches behind you. You find your fingers interlocking with his hair. His right hand wrapping around your chin as he angles your head so you are facing him. “I’m having a lot of fun Y/N” lips centimeters apart, the scent of whiskey, and vodka radiating off of him. ‘Brown and clear...You’re gonna have one hell of a day tomorrow Kookie’, you thought. His eyes drift to your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. Your lips part slightly, his bottom lip finding its way in between his teeth as he leans in.

‘He’s drunk Y/N you can’t take advantage of that he would be ignoring you right now if he wasn’t,’ you tell yourself trying to find the strength to reject his advances despite everything inside of you screaming to let him kiss you.

You pull away quickly “I-I should get to bed I'm really tired” you state shyly as you rush back toward your villa. Jungkook’s trailing behind you, Once you reach your villa he finally speaks “thank you” you turn to look at him confused “F-for what?”

He smiles “Hanging out with me, I don’t know being my friend even though I don’t really deserve it” You look at him sadly “You’ve been going through a lot being forced to marry someone you don’t love or can't even stand” He furrows his brows as he shakes his head “I can stand you Y/N, What I can’t stand is the fact that my father cares so little about me that he basically sold me off to your family. You had nothing to do with that you were a pawn in this just as much as I was” You nod slightly “I want us to try to be friends again, Jungkook” He rubs the back of his head looking at the ground “We haven’t been friends this entire time”

“No idiot I meant like when we were in high school, except for the revenge porn stuff” You state matter of factly. You can see the way Jungkook shifts on his feet, anxious at the memory. “Oh- yeah of course you were my best friend and I really hated losing you like that honestly I was going-” You smile at him softly “Well we should get to bed, you’re really drunk and the past is the past we should leave it there no point in bringing up old possibly painful memories for both of us” You turn yourself around and make your way over to the bedroom in your shared villa. Since, you both have gotten to Greece you have been the one to sleep in the grandiose bed. You can hear Jungkook tossing and turning on the couch, since for the first time in 2 weeks Hes actually sleeping in your shared villa. You make your way out of bed and approach him “You should take the bed Kookie, you'll be really uncomfortable if you don’t and being hungover in an uncomfortable place isn't fun.”

“N-no” He slurs, “T-the bed I-is for you it’s the least I can do since I’ve been a dick” You shake your head rapidly, yes you were a little tipsy but Jungkook was FADED; You still can’t help the way your heart races at his politeness. “I’ve slept in it every day so far, I don’t mind the couch tonight” Jungkook crosses his arms and pouts “S-so you don’t want to sleep next to me” you stare at him confused “I-I haven’t the whole trip Kook-ah" “I know” the pout on his face staying there “I wanted you to though, I hated waking up in some random room or house with a woman whose name I can’t pronounce” He whispered “Why did you then?”

He groans as he stands up, grabbing your hand in the process and dragging both of your figures to the room. Jungkook continued to mumble under his breath. You can only catch the last bit of what he’s saying “I want to sleep next to you” you are about to say something when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in to the large bed. “I want to hold you” He drunkly confesses “We used to cuddle all the time before; now you don’t even look at me and I hate it.” Youre stuck in a trance as he rubs circles on your waist. “I miss you Y/N I was so happy when my –hiccup- dad told me I was marrying you.” “You treated me like trash the whole time” you mutter. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you again, you only get hurt when I do” he whispers. “Jungkoo-” Your statement is cut off by his light snores and shallow breaths; He’s sleeping.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After your honeymoon you and Jungkook’s relationship has improved. He helped you move your things into the home his parents bought for us. Honestly none of us could even believe Jungkook actually came to the wedding let alone stayed in the house were supposed to share.

I’ve taken over the second bedroom to gain some solace from the hurricane that is his temper. There were days I would be greeted with Jungkook’s beautiful smile and the calmness would contain me. Others I’d walk out of my room and have a foreign object thrown in my direction. Jungkook and I would hang out on those days and talk until the sunset. Every morning I would have a cup of Jungkook’s favorite tea ready and set for him to begin his day properly.

One morning I woke up extremely early, honestly at an ungodly hour. Tonight, was a particularly bad night, after our drunken adventure in Greece, Jungkook's drunken form rarely sought me out. Tonight, I figured would be no different. Until Jungkook came in the house and began taking his anger at our situation out on me. “YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME. YOURE THE REASON I CAN’T LIVE MY DAMN LIFE FUCK Y/N WHY CAN’T YOU MAKE THIS EASIER FOR ME AND DISAPPEAR” He shouted at you, deciding it was best to just ignore him and go to your bedroom. I can hear as he slams his bedroom door behind him.

After many attempts to fall asleep fail, I decide to go for a walk. As I run out the door, the world outside takes me over. I didn’t even realize how long it actually has been since I’ve left the house alone. The autumn wind rushing through the air as you make your way down the street. I find my mind drifting back to the days before your family informed you of the dowery. Jungkook hates you for being his wife but loves you for being his friend. I don’t understand anymore. My feet just move as I drift deeper into thought.

The emotions I’ve been holding in begin to flow out as the tears burn my eyes. Finally feeling the pressure and change from this marriage. Losing track of time as I sit on a bench looking out to the Han River. The water is peaceful. The sounds of the city embrace me as I stare into the sunset. I don’t notice the hours pass until I begin to see traffic in the park pickup. I stand from my place on the bench and walk toward the bridge. Staring over the edge you contemplate jumping. Making everything easier on everyone. You feel utterly lost as the tears rush down your face. Shaking your head rapidly “no” you tell yourself as you make your way back, back to Jungkook, back to the life I no longer feel like leading.

As the house came into view, and I saw 2 unfamiliar cars in the driveway. “Jungkook-ah I’m back is anyone he-” I shout as I walk into the house only to be cut off by the impact of Jungkook’s body colliding with mine. His breathing is heavy and a sigh of relief escapes him. His hands rushing to either side of my head as he looked me up and down. His chest heaving up and down rapidly. His eyes full of tears that were threatening fall.

“Fuck I thought something happened to you” he says examining my face. “Where were you? I woke up and tried to see if you wanted to go get breakfast and you weren’t answering the door, so I opened it and you weren’t there your bed is made where’d you sleep? I called your dad, man. I called MY dad” He doesn’t remember what he said to you last night. I smile at him apologetically as I notice the 2 men on the couch and I give them a polite bow. “I’m sorry Kook-ah I woke up really early and chose to go for a walk. I lost track of time and only made it home just now I’m okay; both of you did not need to take time out of your day to come here” you gesture toward your fathers. You can see Jungkook's father is completely stoic and uncaring, you avoid your fathers gaze as his figure trembled on the couch.

“Y/N” Your father states just barely above a whisper as he looks you up and down “Dad I'm fine” You look at him, understanding his pointed worried gaze. “Y/N the last time you couldn’t sleep and went out for a walk I found you bleeding from your wrists in our neighbors pool” You can feel Jungkook's worried gaze on you. The awkwardness from the conversation growing around the room.

“did that happen this time? and you have no right bringing that up it is a completely different situation” Your words do nothing to soothe him as you shove past Jungkook and lift your sleeves in his face “I’m fucking fine” You rush over to your front door slamming it open “Please excuse yourself, I'm tired and would like to go to bed after explaining to the husband YOU forced me to marry why I tried to kill myself, I apologize Mr. Jeon you did not have to take time out of your busy day to come here” Jungkook scoffs and mummers something under his breath. I walked the men out of the door, ignoring Jungkook’s hard stare at the back of my head as I said my goodbyes and apologized again.

“Y/N” he whispered, you stood frozen in place at the front door. “What happened? Why’d your dad-” “It’s not particularly your business or your problem honestly Jungkook you’ve made it quite clear how you feel about me last night.” You cut him off curtly, finally making your way toward your bedroom “Y/N I was drunk last night I didn’t-” “WHAT ABOUT ALL THE OTHER NIGHTS” I shout “Look Jungkook, with the exception of our ‘honeymoon’ you don’t even want me around you drunk. You can’t stand to look at me and the ring on my finger knowing you got sucked into something you never wanted to do” Jungkook stood in his spot, trembling, “Y-Y/N it’s not like that-” “I don’t care anymore, honestly” You state curtly.

“I'm your friend Y/N, do you not understand how fucking worried I was when I realized you weren’t here and I had no clue where you would go” I scoff at his statement “Maybe if you actually put effort into this ‘friendship’ You would have known” A pout forms on his already saddened face. “You’re right I should be a better friend to you and I will be” He promises.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since that day, a few months back; Jungkook requests for me to let him know that I will be leaving so he does not start another panic; We’ve also dedicated Fridays as our friend date night, which usually just consists of us hanging out at our shared house watching movies and playing video games. As I exit the shower, Jungkook stops me as I walk toward my room “Hey, do you want to go out with me tonight?” Jungkook asks shyly. My heart sored at the question; I know he wasn’t asking in any romantic way. I just couldn’t help but get excited at the thought of leaving the house. I hadn't left much since moving in typically spending my days home or working, no time to really explore and go out “Yes! I mean yeah sure that sounds fun” I exclaim. After I have my hair out, in a wet curly look and throw on the most beautiful form fitting dress that I own and make my way to the door. Jungkook is standing there waiting on his phone. His eyes slowly scan up me and he swallows harshly as his eyes grow wide. “Uhm… Let’s…” I smile at him and grab his hand and pull him out of the house interrupting him “Let’s go Jungkookie”

The club was fun, Jungkook told me to have as much fun as I want since I rarely go out. Even so, I never leave the bar as Jungkook can obviously spot someone so he excuses himself from me exclaiming he will be back in like 10 minutes and runs off to the dance floor. Anxious about the crowd and my sudden loneliness; I pull myself into a dark corner at the end of the bar drunk patrons around me oblivious to presence. Feeling a hand on my ass and turn to see an unfamiliar handsome face. “Hey, um sorry to sound rude but can you like take your fucking hand off of me” I say shyly.

The handsome man smiles and nods as he quickly pulls his hand off of my bottom “Sorry, I couldn’t get my footing with all the people I didn’t mean to…like touch you there I swear, I’m Mark” “Y/N” I say as I reach my hand out. He smiles and shakes my hand.” What are you drinking” He smiles “Malibu Pineapple” I reply politely. Mark orders me another and soon I’m feeling tipsy. His kind flirty personality only making you even more flustered, He smiles and places his hand on the small of your back as you talk. You check your phone only to see Jungkook has been gone for the better part of an hour; Mark’s deep voice pulling me out of my trance “SO… I hate to be THAT guy but are you here alone?” My eyes drift from my phone, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth. “Oh I-”

Before I can respond I feel a hand snake around my waist and the melodic voice I’ve come to secretly love comes from behind me “No she’s here with me…… her husband” Jealousy laced in his voice as he pulls me closer to him. “And were supposed to be having a good time together…without you”

“Sorry man, I didn’t know she was married. You know…since she was standing here by herself for a while, and it looked like she didn’t seem to mind spending time with me” Mark smirks sarcastically. The anger is growing more and more evident on Jungkook’s face. “Excuse me?!?” Mark shifts and smiles to me ignoring Jungkook’s ever growing angry form. “You trying to go somewhere less crowded you look really uncomfortable with how many people are here” “Oh I don’t know” I state shyly, stepping back a little. “What Y/N I'm just trying to be nice ill bring you home. I just don’t trust this guy you know? Who leaves their wife alone in a bar like this for over an hour?” It's obvious that was the last straw as Jungkook pulls me behind him as he punches Mark in the face. Mark returns the blow, Jungkook's large form stumbling back at the power the other man had. “You want to keep talking shit asshole” Jungkook's loud voice rings out as he charges Mark again. I stood frozen in place from Jungkook's forceful grab. The bar hitting my back. Soon security was separating the brawl and me and Jungkook were in the car on our way back to the house.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the passenger seat I take in the details of Jungkook’s now bruised face. I shift my eyes back to the windshield, a pout evident on my face “Why was he with you, Y/N?” Jungkook questions the tone in his voice is obviously a sad and jealous one. “He just came up to and we started talking he bought me a couple drinks that’s all Kookie, I promise.” I whine. It’s happened on occasion after Jungkook swore to make up for not being a good friend to you; you guys would flirt and be all over each other, yet neither would make a real move. “Would you have gone home with him? Would you have let him fuck you?” He asks scared of the answer. “WHAT? NO! Jungkook-ah I swear nothing like that would have happened. I mean Mark was really attractive and I’m sure he would have shown me a great time but I just wasn’t interested in him, kookie” That answer seems to have settled him for now. The drive now growing silent. “Y-y/n?” Jungkook slurs “Yeah” “You ever thought about it?” “What?” I ask confused. “Sex, with me” He asks shyly. “Um Jungkook? How drunk are you did you-” “No that doesn’t count I mean recently?” He stammers out.

“Honestly?” He nods rapidly “Yes I need you to tell me the truth because I'm gonna kiss you and I'm not trying to get slapped” He confesses. My eyes widen at his drunk confession “Oh I wouldn’t slap you if you kissed me” He smiles slightly “really? Would you stop me if I touched you like I want Baby?” lust filling his tone as his hand placed itself inside your thigh slowly rubbing up toward my core. A small whimper is released from my lips. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth. “You want me to stop y/n?” He asks cockily. I shake my head rapidly. “You want my fingers inside you don’t you baby?” I nod rapidly.

“Don’t worry baby girl I’ll do that for you.” he says as he pulls into the driveway. He runs to the passenger door and opens it for me as I get out and wrap my arms around him. “Oh yeah Kookie? Are you gonna make me cum for you?” I smirk the drunk naughty thoughts take over. Jungkook wraps his arms around my waist and for the first time tonight I smell the alcohol coming off Jungkook. He’s as drunk as I am or even more so, he presses his chest against my back and I feel a hard shaft against my ass. He peppers kisses up the side of my neck until his lips reach my ears “mmm Baby girl, I wanna eat your pussy so bad” He smacks my ass harshly as he lifts me and carries me into the home.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up in Jungkook’s bed the next morning, events from last night come rolling in. We had sex, 4 times, I notice the coldness on the side of the bed from me. I make my way out of Jungkook’s room and dash toward the kitchen. Jungkook is sitting at the table on the phone back to the entrance. “I don’t know Jimin we fucked like 4 times Jimin but that’s all she helped me cum and I helped her that’s all it was” “No I don’t have feelings for her, we used each other Jimin, it wasn’t like that this guy was talking to her at the club and she told me she wasn’t going to go home with him but let’s be honest if I wasn’t there, she would have gone with him and I can’t have some slut for a wife”

“No man I just helped her cum so she doesn’t start going out for some rando guy to get her off she doesn’t really expect anything from it. She just wanted to cum that’s how good little whores do it and from last night I know she’s one of the best sluts I’ve ever met so easy to get her to do anything for me cause she’s a sub” “Look I got to go Jimin before she gets up, I got to get he out of my bed before she thinks I want her there all the time…. dude of course I’m gonna fuck her again it’s one of the best pussies I’ve ever had……your stupid dude bye”

I rush to my room and lock the door. His words stab at my heart. Just some easy slut? That’s what he thought you were, because you let your guard down and gave yourself to the first person you’ve ever had sex with. Tears stream down my face as I hyperventilate a knock at my bedroom pulls me out of a trance. “Y/n-ie?” another knock “you, okay?” I shout from behind the door.

“Yeah…I’m fine” I hear slight shuffling “Did you want to go to breakfast maybe we can take a walk to Han River you said you like going there right?” His nervousness is evident through the door. “Um…Honestly Jungkook, I’m not feeling too good I’m like really hungover and I’d like to take a shower” to wash your scent and touch off of me. “Oh…. well can I join you then?” I shake my head no, god please no. “Y/N-ie? Babe?” my heart shatters at his words “Um I’m sorry Kookie but I really don’t feel like it” “Oh okay, um when you’re done can you come hang out and watch a that Invisible Man movie you wanted to see” “Um sure I’ll see you in a bit bye Jungkook” Jungkook’s face twists in to a pout behind the door.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After your shower you leave the room and walk down the hall “Jungkook?” before I pass his bedroom, I peak my head in and see Jungkook laying on his bed completely naked, eyes closed tight, stroking himself, moaning out your name. The sight is addicting I feel my own excitement building up at the sight of him. I try to back out of the room and accidentally slam into Jungkook’s bedroom door. His eyes shoot open and his hand leaves his member. “Y/N! I…UM…I WAS JUST….” I smile and walk toward him. “We’re you thinking about me Jungkook” I teased. He bites his lip “Were you thinking about last night or the fact that you missed fucking me hard into the shower” He sighs and nods “both” he mutters. His words from earlier out of my mind as I place my lips against his and let him take me for the 5th time in 24 hours.

The way he pounds into me, his hair stuck to his forehead. “Fuck baby girl you take it so good, look at your pretty pussy taking this cock the way you should…. hmmm that’s my pussy baby girl” I moan in response “yes kookie-ah only yours” My climax builds fast as Jungkook’s thrusts get sloppy. “Yeah, oh baby girl I’m gonna cum so deep in your pussy” He exclaims as he captures his lips into mine. “All mine baby girl” he thrusts once more and I feel a warmth inside me as he kisses my neck.

He gets up and runs to the bathroom. A loud ping comes through on the phone

Areum<3: When are you going to divorce that ugly ass wife? Baby I got to spend time with you at the club but fucking in a bathroom then getting kicked out for a fight especially over her is crazy.

My breath hitches and swells up in my throat as I read the message. He had sex with someone last night right before he had sex with me, he took my mouth last night. Disgust fills me up as I run to my bedroom. Opening the closet, I begin throwing my things in the luggage bag. “Baby did you want- what are you doing?!” Jungkook stopped at my door, a confused look on his face.

“I’m leaving Jungkook” I state as tears stream down my face. Panic rises on Jungkook’s face “why? You don’t want to be here anymore? Did I do something? I can fix it I swear but you can’t go…you can’t just go when we….” “Areum misses you and you should focus on one girl Jungkook-ah” I cut him off and realization dawns on his face as he runs to his room to grab his phone.

The second the phone is in his hand he rushes out of his room and sees your retreating figure making your way to the door “Y/N-AH! DON’T GO PLEASE” You freeze the sound of his voice cracking “Areum is just some girl she’s not anyone don’t just assume because some girl texted me, she misses me that I’m going to run to her” “You were with her last night….you Fucked her last night not even an hour before you fucked me, my mouth”

Jungkook shakes his head “No it’s not like that I swear like you said I fucked her, Baby girl I can’t fuck you. I make love to you please I’m begging you don’t go okay I know we haven’t been the best but I can fix this don’t do this not when I know I love you please” I shake my head and make my way to the door as Jungkook’s sobs grow. “Stop please” he reaches for the door and slams it shut. “You can’t just leave, not after what we just did, not when I love you, please” I smile at him lightly and press my lips against his.

I feel his hands snake around my waist as he kisses me hard. I lose myself in his lips soon I reach for my luggage bag and rush out the door and into my car. Jungkook is banging on my passenger side window trying to open the door tears streaming down his face “please, stop, stop the car, get out please stay with me, BABY PLEASE” he shouts as I reverse and drive off the last sight, I have is Jungkook chasing my car with tears streaming down his face

#bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

263 notes · View notes

yukiobeyme · 4 years ago

Note

For the MammoBarb bartender AU!

The bar is a joint project, owned by both Diavolo and Lucifer. And Barbatos is their best (and only) bartender. His skill’s are absolutely top notch, and none can compare. But he is also only one person, and business has been booming.

Diavolo starts to worry for his friend, that the stress of it all might be too much. But Barbatos insists that the tips alone are well worth all of the effort. Still, he can’t help but tell Lucifer about his concerns. And Lucifer agrees.

Mammon is a troublemaker, in every sense of the word. He often gets into fights, and gambles away most of his money. (His prized possession is his motorcycle Goldie!) And one day, after bailing him out of jail yet again, Lucifer has had enough.

He tells his brother that he’s going to be a bartender at his bar until he can pay off all of the money that he owes, to both Lucifer and the debt collectors. It seems like an impossible task, but if Mammon could get tipped as well as Barbatos...

It’s up to Barbatos to get Mammon, his new coworker, into tip top shape. And Barbatos isn’t easily pleased. When he first meets Mammon, he definitely isn’t impressed. Yet despite that, he’s determined to turn him into the perfect bartender.

And maybe they start hanging out after his lessons. Maybe sometimes Mammon drags him out on that motorcycle (which Barbatos insists is a death trap). It’s only natural for them to drink together, and to chat. It’s all in the name of teaching him... right?

And if Mammon becomes a waiter at times, and walks around the bar wearing bunny ears and a tail, he definitely isn’t starting. (Despite what Lucifer and Diavolo may think).

~ s8ncake 💚🎂

@s8ncake you spoil me so much! (and I love it) looking back now I guess my hand spilled I hope you enjoy and feel a little spoiled too?

Mammon is known for his bar fights, loud mouth, and Goldie. He has a record as long as he is tall, starting from age 18. Though if his record was wiped when he turned 18 it would probably be twice as long. Most of the stuff is minor, usually just consequences from bar fights or his motorcycle being too loud, but it’s enough that he has spent a night or two. The cops, Simeon and Solomon, are use to Mammon’s antics and they usually let stuff slide or just give a warning. Though Simeon will always goes to Lucifer to let him know when Mammon gets in trouble. I also imagine him having tattoos, especially hand tattoos.

Mammon is now an apprentice bartender for Barbatos to pay off debts. And honestly Barbatos is equal pissed and nervous. Barbatos knows of Mammon through stories from Lucifer and Diavolo but also from other bartenders. None of those bartender stories are good, they paint a picture of a man that is rowdy, loud, and disrespectful to anybody who has authority. Though Barbatos decides he will raise to the challenge and sets to work.

Mammon is clumsy and dropped bottles while doing drinks, which hurts Barbatos’ soul. But the sheepish look Barbatos gets makes him forgive him instantly. Mammon is in awe whenever Barbatos does a trick and Barbatos just rolls his eyes.

Mammon gets about two weeks of intense training from Barbatos before his first real shift. Barbatos might not have been impressed when he first saw Mammon but Barbatos can’t lie, he cleans up nicely. A black button up with his sleeves rolled up, his tattoos on full display and tight black jeans. Mammon might not be able to do all the tricks Barbatos can, but he definitely is a hit with the ladies and the men (and the non-binary folks). Barbatos is quite impressed by the end of the shift, Mammon didn’t break anything and he made all the drinks correctly, though he had to ask Barbatos twice what a drink was but Barbatos let it slide.

They know only have intense lessons twice a week and just meet up two hours before the bar opens where Barbatos tests his knowledge and teaches his some simplier tricks. And on Sundays after the last person leaves at 3am and they are closed after three full swing days, they each make a drink and toast to surviving the weekend crowd. Mammon goes for a simple rum and coke and Barbatos a gin and tonic. The chat about everything, or that’s what Barbatos thought. He just didn’t think there was much to Mammon but he was wrong.

It was about month of Mammon being a bartender before he got into his first fight. Barbatos was shocked and surprised to watch Mammon get out from behind the bar before picking a fight with a patron. Barbatos is furious as he watches the patron getting kicked out and Mammon being dragged to the back by Lucifer, Diavolo following close behind. What surprised Barbatos the most though, when he hears that the person Mammon just beat the crap out of was a creep and making unwanted moves on someone and even talk about a tampered drink. It leaves Barbatos wondering and he makes a note to ask Mammon about it.

Barbatos leaves the bar unattended to check on Mammob, bringing ice from the cooler. Mammon is in a heat debate with Lucifer, telling Lucifer exactly what Barbatos heard from the patrons. Mammon was defending someone. Barbatos doesn’t know what caused him to say something but he speaks up and defends Mammon and thrusts the bag of ice for him. Gesturing to Mammon’s brusing face. Lucifer freezes, not knowing Barbatos was there and shocked to have someone stuck up for Mammon. Lucifer leaves with reminding Mammon, that he can’t throw the first punch. Barbatos waits half a second before realizing he has left the bar unattended, so he ducks out the room and makes his way back to the bar. Mammon is still a hot topic, most wondering if he will come back out or not. Barbatos tells them he has the rest of the night off but would be back the next night.

That night when they finally close, Barbatos finds Mammon standing awkwardly at the bar before making his way to clean up. They work in silence before Barbatos finally asks, if that’s how Mammon usually gets into fights. Mammon seems to light up in anger and before Barbatos knows it Mammon is talking about how people don’t pay attention. That it takes one second and something bad can happen. Or how it takes one second and a creep in trying to make a move on an unwilling person. He hates it and won’t stand for it, and if he doesn’t do something no one will, bystander effect. Barbatos feels something shift inside him, he realizes he growing a soft spot for Mammon. Mammon didn’t fight because he was drunk, he was fighting to protect. Barbatos makes sure he doesn’t condemn Mammon’s choice. Because Barbatos has been a bartender long enough he knows that. Lucifer’s words from earlier makes sense, Mammon throws the first punch which is what gets him in trouble. Then why Simeon and Solomon seem okay with just giving him warnings and not making it so charges aren’t pressed. Mammon is trying to do good, justice.

After the first fight, Barbatos makes a code system with Mammon. Let him know through drinks what’s going on. Giving Barbatos a heads up what’s happening in his bar and let’s him contact security. Which successfully keeps Mammon out of trouble. While Mammon seem to fume a bit and needs to walk away for a few moments, he always comes back without having to throw a punch and each time Barbatos has pride flowing through his veins.

The longer Mammon works at the bar, the more Barbatos learns about him. Mammon isn’t shallow and easy to read, he is an ocean and complex. Barbatos finds himself wanting to understand. Something Barbatos knows is Mammon has some angry issues and some days are harder than others. Those days Barbatos finds Mammon at the bar before their lesson, in old clothes and messing with his motorcycle out front. Barbatos has learned to not talk to Mammon but just sit near him and watch him work. It’s therapeutic in its own way, Mammon knows his way around this death machine and it’s attractive. Mammon moves so fluidly and eventually Mammon will start narrating what he doing, whether it’s just checking fluids, readjusting his seat or handles, or just purely messing with the engine. Then about thirty minutes before their lesson Mammon will head in and try and clean up the best he can. He mostly grease free and Barbatos says as long as his hands and arms are clean, he can mix.

It’s on a summer day when Mammon is working on his motorcycle and they are sitting in silence, when Mammon mentions he made enough money to pay off all his debts. So he is free to leave, but he is holding off until he decides what he wants to do. Barbatos felt his heart dropped, he wasn’t ready for Mammon to leave yet. He doesn’t want Mammon to leave, he forgot it was a temporary employment. Barbatos tries to shove away all his emotions. Barbatos is unusually quiet that night and Mammon notices and doesn’t know what to think of it.

After two weeks, Mammon breaks the news to Barbatos that he won’t be bartending with him... full time anymore. At first Barbatos is heart broken but then it hits him, full time? Mammon tells him, he going to be helping Beel with the kitchen being a waiter. He even grumbles about having to wear the stupid bunny outfit. Mammon tells Barbatos he hopes he doesn’t mind, but tells him he still willing to help during the busy hours.

The first time Barbatos sees Mammon wearing bunny ears and a tail, he looking respectfully. When Diavolo and Lucifer come to watch, grab a drink and catch up with patrons. They make a comment about how Barbatos seems distracted by something. Which is by far ridiculous. Barbatos isn’t staring, and he sure isn’t staring hard at the white tail that matches Mammon’s hair color perfectly. At some point though, Mammon notices and definitely starts throwing winks and exaggerating bending over for Barbatos, which leaves him hot and bother and flushed.

The patrons catch on to the show and while some are disappointed the great Bartender and the hot assistant are not only taken but taken by each other. Which Mammon never denies and only fuels that rumor through a red face, while Barbatos is barely holding composure. Though when Lucifer and Diavolo catch on, Mammon completely denies everything, which only makes him seem more quilty in their eyes. And on the nights they flirt the most, if there is an increase in tips, they don’t speak about it.

Mammon asks Barbatos if he wants to ride on his motorcycle with him and Barbatos instantly says no. It takes another month before he says maybe and by the second month he says yes. At this point, they are completely dancing around each other. Awkward pauses and staring at each other’s lips, brushing fingers, and blushing and avoiding other eyes. Barbatos hates he agreed to go on the death trap, but it’s their first day off in a while and he doesn’t want to be away from Mammon. Barbatos makes it known and Mammon flashes him a dangerous smile and tells him to hold on.

Barbatos squeezes the life out of Mammon, brushed flush against his back and tries to hide his face in Mammon’s neck. After what feels like forever, Mammon tells Barbatos they have arrived. It’s to a cliff side that over looks city and it’s dark now so there are city lights. Before Barbatos can say anything, Mammon pulls him close and clashes their lips together. It’s a messy first kiss, too much teeth and their noses kept getting in the way. They pulled away flushed, swollen lips, and panting. The second kiss Barbatos leads and isnt as urgent but expresses the same amount of emotion.

Now the bar is more lively and fun, and if Lucifer or Diavolo had to pinpoint why, it was because it seemed a strict and uptight bartender fell for a no good troublemaker. Though they can’t say they are too happy when those two start work with the outfits already askew or if during the night they both disappear for a few moments. Though Barbatos says Mammon is still a trouble maker, just in a very different way.

#long post #super long post #I world built way too much #like i should have just written the damn fic #yuki rambles #yuki writes #mammobarb #obey me mammom #mammon obey me #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos #s8ncake i love you

25 notes · View notes

northernsoulpie · 4 years ago

Text

Louloúdi

This is my @loveinwayhaven gift for @dakotawinchester I hope you like it, I’ve not written fic in a loooong time but I really enjoyed writing this! I loved Arabella and hope I did her character justice.

Pairing: Morgan x F!Detective Arabella Aveiro

Warnings: some swears. Teen?

Laycott’s Bar & Grill was not the most salubrious bar in Wayhaven, but when it came to cheap drinks and rowdy night out, there was no where else quite like it. Tina had all but dragged Arabella out of her office, with vague threats of them ‘not hanging out anymore, like ever’ and that ‘Arabella, you’re becoming obsessed! I promise you’ll feel so much better if you come out for a few drinks and take your mind off it!’. All absolute rubbish of course but Tina had been such a good friend over the years that she didn’t have the heart to keep turning turn her offers of spending time together. Plus, truth be told, she was entirely fed up of brooding over case files and photographs of possible evidence. Whenever Arabella went home to sleep for a few short hours, she’d even began to dream of filing cabinets and evidence lockers and blank case reports. Maybe Tina was right, maybe she was becoming obsessed. A few drinks might help her to relax she reckoned, take her mind off work, off the agency -and off her mother - for a while.

“Urgh why do I always end up getting plastered when I’m out with you?” Tina giggled into her beer bottle.

“Don’t blame me sunshine, this was entirely your idea!”

Tina waved the bottle animatedly as she spoke, sloshing beer onto the already sticky carpet, “Whatever, you need me to rescue you from all that paperwork every now and again. Stops you from getting…” She gestured haphazardly at Arabella sat across the booth from her.

“…getting on with my duties as a responsible professional?”

“HA! More like stops you from getting all boring and serious all of the time.”.

Arabella pushes her dark hair behind her ear, “Hey, come on! I’m not that serious all of the time. I’ll still me.”

Even as the words left her mouth, they’d felt like a lie. Tina’s eyebrow quirked as she leaned forward in her seat.

“You do seem different now, something’s definitely changed. Just drop the ‘Detective Aveiro’ mask for a short while and come back to being my best friend Arabella. Just every now and again. It’ll do you good, trust me on this Ari!”

Arabella sighed, trying to hide the flash of annoyance followed by the pang of regret at Tina’s words. Her work as Wayhaven’s only detective and liaison to the agency was now taking up all of her time, even cutting into her precious sleep, most nights. Her apartment looked like something out of a horror movie and her once beloved hobbies were long since neglected. No wonder Tina invited her out so often, she probably wanted to stage an intervention for best friend before she faded away for good.

She looked down at her own beer bottle and began to peel at the label. “It’s just been a tough few months, what with just starting this job and the murders…”

Tina’s smile faded, “Oh crap Ari. I know it has, I’m sorry. I just miss you that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I didn’t think taking on this role would demand so much more of my time, it feels like everything in this backwater little town is all going wrong at once and I’ve just been left to somehow fix it all.”

Tina grimaced but nodded sympathetically. “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been Arabella, you’ve been left with such a crock. But you’re not on your own, you’ve got me and Verda and the rest of station to help you when work gets crazy. Not only that, we’re your friends – talk to us! I know you, you’ve always been moody and stubborn as hell but don’t lose yourself in all this crazy shit.”

Tina stopped abruptly. Arabella could tell there was more she desperately wanted to say - fumbling hands, tight lips, slight pained expression - the damning confession was coming.

…you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on…

No! She really was losing herself to the job. This was her best friend damn it.

“Tee? It’s OK, it’s me. What is it?”

“I… really don’t want to upset you Ari, but you’re becoming just like her, just like Rebecca…”

Tina pursed her lips as though already regretting the words she’d just spoken out loud. She looked positively terrified of what Arabella ‘s reaction would be.

Arabella barked a laugh, “I know, I know. I understand what you’re saying Tina. I think you’re right though, maybe I do need to remove the plank from my ass every now and again.”

Tina began to laugh and Arabella joined her, feeling the sudden tension melt away again. It felt like a small resolution of sorts.

Suddenly Tina stopped mid laugh and seemed to stare at something over Arabella’s shoulder. Arabella brought her beer bottle down from her lips.

“Tina? Is everything okay?”

Tina dragged her eyes back to Arabella and smirked.

“Tina? What on earth..”

“Drinking again Detective?”

Morgan

The vampire emerged at their table from behind her. Arabella’s heart flipped before she could scold it thoroughly and will it back to a normal rhythm. Morgan was wearing her usual style; long dark hair layered so casually around her shoulders, a tight, black long sleeved T-shirt that shows off her curves to perfection, cords of leather around her wrists and neck. It’s an outfit that seems so impossibly nonchalant, like the old glam style rockers of the 80’s and 90’s but much, much cooler. And so damn hot.

Arabella shrugged, “Got to let my hair down every now and again.”

Morgan’s dark eyes flicked to her hair, almost of their own accord, before returning to looking her dead in the eyes. “You should let it down more often Detective.”

Arabella stared. She promised herself she wouldn’t let herself get affected by Morgan’s flirtations but when she used that tone, her defences simply melted away. Morgan glared back, eyebrow arching ever so daringly.

Tina nodded enthusiastically in her seat, gesturing at the vampire stood at their booth, “See that’s what I told her. Too much work and no play makes Detective Arabella a dull lay-day… wait that was awful. I couldn’t think of anything that rhymes with play haha.”

Morgan raises a sardonic eyebrow whilst Arabella rolled her eyes, “Okay Tina, think it’s time to bounce. Come on, grab your stuff and let’s find a taxi.”

“Oh nooo, why don’t you stay Ari? Agent Morgan will see you get home safe, isn’t that right Morgan?” Tina waggled her brow and didn’t bother to hide the obvious smirk whilst she looked between the two of them. Arabella had tempting visions of throwing her jacket over Tina’s face and giving her a few choice jabs to the ribs to shut her up. Tina’s clumsy attempts at match-making were somehow growing worse as the years went on.

Morgan stepped forward to help Tina as she struggled into her jacket, “Sure, I’ll help Miss Poname to get a taxi outside. You gonna get us a couple of drinks Arabella?”

She blanched from shooting daggers at Tina’s grin. That was… not expected. She watched as Tina finally wrestled into her jacket before allowing Morgan to take her gently by the arm and expertly maneuver her through the busy bar. Once or twice, Tina even turned to reply cheerily or laugh at something the vampire said as they walked. Arabella stared after them. Morgan wasn’t usually this friendly or helpful to anyone, especially not to humans. She had to be playing at something, she was sure of it. After a minute or so, Arabella suddenly remembered she was meant to be getting them drinks and made her way over to the bar. When she returned to their table, she noticed Morgan striding back through the crowd toward her. People seemed to move out of way instinctively, probably something to do with Morgan’s impressive resting bitch face and arrogant stride through the throngs of patrons. Some turned their heads to appraise the gorgeous vampire, she seemed to have that effect whenever she went out in public, in spite of the ever-present scowl. Morgan threw herself down on the sofa next to her, startling her slightly. Arabella passed Morgan her drink, hoping the motion would hide her surprise at the sudden closeness.

“Here. I couldn’t remember what you had to drink last time we were here, so I just got you a rum and coke.”

Morgan wrinkled her nose for a second before accepting the glass, “Not my first choice but whatever, drink’s a drink.”

She took a hearty gulp of the rum and leant back into the sofa. Arabella watched the vampire through the edge of her vision before turning to her.

“Thanks for helping Tina find a taxi, I think she was a little drunk by the end there.”

Morgan shrugged. “Yeah it’s no big deal, I actually kind of like your friend.”

Arabella pursed her lips and gave Morgan a disbelieving look.

Morgan sighed and rolled her eyes, “She can be so giddy and irritating – even for a human- but she looks out for you. Cares for you. You should listen to her advice more often, the job ain’t going anywhere.”

Arabella stiffened, “What advice do you me… you were listening to our conversation? Seriously?!”

Morgan took another sip of her rum and coke, “Only the end of it, I was coming over to see you and Tina was drunkenly broadcasting your conversation to the rest of the bar. So no, I wasn’t listening in. Like I’ve got nothing better to do than spy on your personal drama with your friends.”

It was a convincing lie, Arabella would give her that. It Morgan had tried that on any other person, they probably would’ve believed her. Luckily for her, she had been trained to spot liars, even the very good ones. Even the ones that lied to themselves.

Feeling impulsive, Arabella carefully her drink down on the table and turned her body around to face Morgan. She crossed one leg artfully over the other which Morgan didn’t miss the dangled opportunity to run her eyes over. Playing the ‘good cop’ in interrogations wasn’t something Arabella did often but this time, she could make an exception.

“So, are you going to tell me what you’re really doing here Morgan?”

“I’m on patrol duty tonight. Ava has us all patrolling this little shit hole town every night to keep watch for any unusual activity.”

Arabella leant back, draping one arm over the back of the couch and with her other hand, carefully sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder. Morgan had seemed to like that motion earlier. At this point in time, Arabella couldn’t exactly point out why she now felt such a rush at teasing Morgan. Catching out little lies and discrepancies was something that gratified her but it never seemed to excite her like this. Maybe it just was catching this particular person out that had this effect on her. It was like her brain and her body had just taken over her conscious mind and now she was just running on pure adrenalin alone.

She tapped her chin, “And Ava instructed you to come inside the bar to have a few drinks as part of the patrol, did she? There’s never been an incident occur inside this bar to date. Not to mention that government agency SOP’s for patrols must be very different to front line agencies.”

Morgan seemed surprised for a brief second, before narrowing her eyes, “If you want me to be honest, here it is Detective. It’s really it’s just to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get yourself kidnapped or attacked AGAIN.”

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t be bothered sitting outside in the freezing cold for hours, so I thought I’d come in.”

Arabella dropped her hands to her lap and looked away feeling quite deflated, “Well, that answers that question then.”

“You thought I had come in here just to see you Detective?”

Arabella felt the blush burn on her cheeks as she stumbled to think of a retort. She reached forward and took a strategic swig of her beer. As she leant back into the sofa, she felt Morgan’s hand on her crossed knee. The warmth of it seemed to burn through the material and electrify her skin. Arabella knew there would be no hiding the redness of her face now.

“Well maybe I did come in here just to see you, maybe I timed my patrol route carefully so I could see you in here. Guess you’ll never find out the truth of it Detective.”

“I always find out the truth of it Agent, that’s my job.”

“You want to find out the truth of me, don’t you Detective? I’d certainly like to find out a few things regarding you, have done since the first time I walked into your office.”

Morgan carefully plucked the bottle of beer from Arabella’s hand, placed it on the table in front of them. Almost imperceptibly as she leant back from the table, she had somehow inched closer to Arabella, no longer having to stretch her hand out to rest on her knee. Arabella could feel Morgan’s breath caress her face and she felt her blood start to rush as Morgan’s lips came closer. Her breath caught as she considered closing the gap between them and kissing Morgan first. The agent always seemed like having the upper hand in their flirtations and surprising Morgan really would be so immensely satisfying. The fantasy quickly slipped away though as Arabella lost her nerve, caught in the moment of just aching to see what Morgan would do next.

Arabella sighed. She didn’t know what on earth Morgan was doing to her, one minute Arabella could be so causal and smooth but in the next she would feel so timid and inexperienced. Arabella had dated plenty in her college years, some were just as flirty and promiscuous as Morgan and she’d had no problem then. None of those women had ever sent her into a tailspin like this. She knew Morgan would probably want just a casual thing between them and that was fine, she’d learnt long ago not to let feelings get in the way when dating women like her. Anyway, right now she was just letting her hair down. Forgetting all about the last few months and the station, just as she had promised Tina. No matter what this woman did to her, she reassured herself, Arabella knew how to take what she needed and not get attached. She had been practicing her whole life.

Morgan shifted her hand over hers on the back on the sofa and shifted toward her until they were sat only centimeters apart. The feeling of skin touching skin was like a burning brand as the hand on her knee slid smoothly up to rest on her thigh. As Morgan’s lips grew closer, Arabella almost stopped breathing. As her eyes fluttered closed, she was vaguely aware of her previous statement about not becoming attached ringing hollow as the lust and the something else just there burned brightly in her chest.

The shrill ring tone cut through silence, making both of them jump and freeze. Arabella opened her eyes to see Morgan scowling worse than she had ever seen the woman scowl before. She pitied the poor person on the other end of the phone.

Morgan sat back, snatching her mobile from her back packet at almost superhuman speed.

“What is it?”

Arabella winced.

“No. Fine. Whatever, just don’t tell her. Yes. Done, get here quickly Farrah.”

Arabella heard the plastic crack as Morgan punched the call end button and jammed the phone unceremoniously back into her back pocket.

“Farrah’s almost here, my shift is over.”

She nodded back, “At least your patrol was uneventful in the bar tonight.”

Morgan titled her head as she glared back at her, “Hmmm, uneventful?” She purred.

At that sultry tone Arabella jumped up, grateful to have a chance to clear her head before she did something incredibly stupid. They were colleagues of sort, after all. Fraternising with colleagues was always a terrible idea, no matter how good things had been getting only minutes earlier.

Arabella cleared her throat pointedly, “Anyway, it’s getting late. I better be getting back to my apartment.”

“Come on, I’ll see you outside and find you a taxi back.”

Morgan watched quietly with dark eyes as Arabella felt her way into her leather jacket and patted herself down to check her belongings. When finished, she turned to Morgan. Morgan dutifully put her arm out which she took gratefully.

“Thank you, Agent and thanks for the drink.”

“Any time Detective.”

#loveinwayhaven #The Wayhaven Chronicles #twc morgan #specialist agent morgan

12 notes · View notes