#i rushed to make this . i needed it out of my head immediately

[hy6erion]

Viktor being jealous??!!?!??!

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢ 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲/ 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠. ૮₍⇀ ‸ ↼‶₎ა

Viktor isn’t the type to throw a fit. He won’t storm out or pick a fight—no, he’ll sit there, watching, cataloging every detail. The way someone leans too close, the way they laugh just a little too easily at your jokes. His jaw tightens, his fingers twitch against his cane, but he waits. He studies.

He won’t cause a scene, but he will dismantle his opponent with terrifying precision. A casual, cutting remark that leaves the poor fool questioning their existence? A pointed comment that makes them realize they’re utterly beneath him? He delivers it with a polite smile, an arch of his brow, and then turns his attention back to you like they never existed.

Viktor doesn’t need grand gestures. A hand on the small of your back, a thumb grazing your wrist as he guides you away, a lingering press of fingers against your hip. He is tactile when it counts, his touch burning with intent.

His voice drops, low and velvety, when he leans in close. “You are enjoying yourself, yes? I hope so. Because I would hate for you to feel… unattended.” It’s not a threat, not exactly. But his fingers at your waist tighten just slightly, just enough to let you know he’s very aware.

There’s a moment where he decides he’s done entertaining the nonsense. He doesn’t yank you away, doesn’t make a scene. He simply steps in, a warm body at your back, his breath at your ear. “Come with me.” And there’s no argument.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The room is warm, the air thick with conversation and the occasional clink of glasses. You hadn’t expected the night to stretch this long, but here you were, laughing at some story being told by a man whose name you had already forgotten.

You could feel Viktor before you saw him.

That particular kind of weight in the air, the prickle at the back of your neck that told you he was watching. It wasn’t overt, not yet. But you knew him well enough to recognize the signs—his patience had an expiration date.

“That’s fascinating,” you hum, just to be polite. You shift your glass in your hand, casting a glance over your shoulder.

There he is. Seated just far enough away that he could pretend he wasn’t paying attention. His fingers tap idly against the head of his cane, his mouth a neutral line. But his gaze? Heavy. Unwavering.

You can feel it trailing over you, catching at your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your waist. He is not pleased.

“Am I boring you?” The man in front of you tilts his head, misreading your distraction entirely.

You smile, but it’s not meant for him. “Not at all.”

You take a slow sip from your glass, deliberately holding Viktor’s gaze over the rim. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, something dark and considering.

He moves.

It’s not rushed, not dramatic. Just the smooth, purposeful way he unfolds himself from his chair, the slow click of his cane against the floor as he makes his way toward you.

You straighten instinctively as he stops at your side, his body close enough that you feel the heat of him.

Viktor doesn’t immediately acknowledge you. His attention is on the man in front of you, studying him with a polite, distant kind of amusement. “You are very entertaining, I see.”

The man laughs awkwardly. “I do my best.”

“Mmm.” Viktor hums, unimpressed. His fingers brush lightly against the curve of your hip, as if it’s an idle thing. But the touch lingers.

Your breath catches.

Viktor shifts, angling himself ever so slightly toward you, his lips close enough to ghost against the shell of your ear.

“Come with me.”

A whisper, nothing more. But his voice is low, edged with something dangerous.

You shiver.

“Excuse us,” Viktor says absently, already guiding you away. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t need to.

The hallway is quieter, dimly lit, far from the eyes of the party. Viktor doesn’t stop until your back is against the wall, his body a breath away from yours.

“You are playing with me,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming.

You tilt your chin up, feigning innocence. “Am I?”

His lips curve, but there’s no real humor in it. He steps closer, his thigh brushing against yours. “Careful, love.” His fingers find your wrist, tracing the delicate skin there, feeling the way your pulse betrays you. “You might not like where this game ends.”

The air between you is electric, your breath caught somewhere between anticipation and challenge.

You don’t back down. “Maybe I would.”

Viktor inhales slowly, his thumb sweeping up to brush over your lower lip, his gaze dropping.

“You test my patience.” His voice is a rasp now, thick with something unspoken. “And yet—” He leans in, just barely, his mouth a whisper away. “I find I do not mind.”

Your heart is a traitor, hammering against your ribs. His presence is suffocating in the best way, his attention a brand against your skin.

“Viktor—”

The moment shatters as a voice calls from the main room.

“Viktor! There you are! We were just about to—”

Viktor exhales sharply, his forehead brushing yours for half a second before he pulls away, irritation flickering in his gaze. He closes his eyes, composing himself.

“You are lucky,” he murmurs, shaking his head. But his grip on your wrist tightens, just enough to remind you—this wasn’t over.

You swallow, your skin still burning where he touched you.

Lucky? No.

You weren’t sure luck had anything to do with it.

[hoshifighting]

Olá Lyla Recently i saw a tweet saying that for us girls when reaching the climax the best is to take deep breathes instead of tensing up and then i saw someone say that the best thing that a man has ever told her was "breathe baby..." so... how would experienced seventeen members "teach" you this while in naughty time???? love you girllll <3

seventeen asking you to breath before an orgasm

A/N: hello my luv!! ❤️🧚🏼‍♀️ it may sound a bit repetitive, but i tried my best to give each one a nuance! 👍 AND YES!!! this is the sexiest thing a man can do, only after being being loyal 😩

seungcheol: "baby, slow down. breathe with me." voice so soft, but his grip on your hips is firm, making sure you stay in rhythm with him. he watches you, eyes dark, waiting for you to listen. when you finally let out that shaky exhale, body melting just the way he needs, he grins "yeah, that’s it. just like that." he’ll keep guiding you through it.

jeonghan: "shhh, there you go, breathe, my love." he smirks at first when he notices you tensing, then he’s softening, his thumb brushing over your lips, coaxing them open. "breathe for me, sweetheart." he hums in satisfaction, kissing the breath right from your lips like a reward. he’s soooooo patient.

joshua: "baby, take a deeeeep breath. i got you." he’s soooooo reassuring, holding you close, rocking into you at a pace that forces you to feel everything. "don’t rush it, just breathe." and when you finally do, when your body stops fighting the pleasure, he leans in, whispering, "that’s my good girl."

junhui: "you’re holding your breath, baby. relax, yeah?" he notices immediately, and his hands are everywhere, smoothing over your body, making sure you feel him, not just the overwhelming build-up. "trust me, just let go." and when you finally exhale, he smirks, feeling the way you melt beneath him. "mm, there she is."

hoshi: "breathe, baby. just feel me." the second he feels you start to lock up, his hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you wiiiide open for him. "don’t fight it, just breathe."

wonwoo: "baby, you’re shaking. slow breaths, okay?" he’s so gentle about it, barely pulling back to look at you, his hands guiding you through the pace he knows you need. " just relax, love." and when you finally exhale, unclenching, letting yourself have it, he murmurs, "there you go, that’s my girl."

woozi: "deep breaths, baby. i know it’s a lot." he’s actually teasing you tho!! but his voice is cooing and warm. he can feel the way you’re holding back, so he leans in "don’t hold out on me. just breathe, let me take care of you".

minghao: "no, no, baby, don’t run from it. just breathe." his hands LOCK you in place, not letting you escape what he’s giving you. his voice is so confident, like he knows what’s best for you. and when you finally obey, letting the pleasure fully wash over you, he smiles lazyly, satisfied. "good girl."

mingyu: "breathe, sweetheart, i got you." sweet, but there’s an edge to it, a knowing grin as he watches you struggle to keep up. he knows it’s too much, knows you’re about to cum, but he holds you steady, whispering soft reassurances until you finally let go.

seokmin: "don’t be shy, baby. deep breaths, you’re doing so good." he’s so tender, so encouraging, his kisses never stopping as he guides you through it. "told you it’d feel even better."

seungkwan: "you’re holding your breath again, love. breathe with me." he actually demonstrates, exaggerating a deep inhale, waiting for you to copy him. and when you do, when your body responds exactly how he knew it would, he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "fuck, that’s it."

vernon: "babe, don’t fight it. just breathe." he actually grounds you. his lips find yours, his hands roaming, making sure you feel safe, feel wanted. when you finally let yourself sink into it, he smirks, whispering, "knew you’d feel even better if you listened."

chan: "deep breaths, baby. lemme take care of you." his grip tightens just slightly, his pace slowing, forcing you to actually feel each thrust. he kisses you through it, holding you as you finally cum. "see? you just needed to relax."

[luvsubbymen]

Eat me out

I lower myself onto your face slowly, taking my time, watching as you look up at me with a mix of anticipation and obedience. Your hands rest lightly on my thighs as you open your mouth eagerly and your tongue immediately parts my folds.

You moan softly beneath me as I rock my hips gently against your mouth, guiding you exactly where I want you.

I reach down, tangling my fingers in your hair, holding you in place as you work to please me. Your tongue licking and swirling, desperate to earn my approval as you suck on my clit softly.

“Good job” I murmur, my voice low, and I could feel your response in the way your tongue quickens, flicking over my clit.

I lean forward slightly, pressing down harder against your mouth and you react quickly, your tongue moving with desperation, sending shivers through me. Your nose brushes against me with every movement, adding a teasing friction that makes my thighs tremble as I ground myself against your face.

You moan again and I tug on your hair, tilting your head just enough to make you hit the perfect angle. Your hands stay where they were, gripping my thighs, making me gasp.

“Don’t stop” I whisper and you obey without hesitation, your tongue moving faster now, sucking on my clit with more intensity, your mouth completely devoted to bringing me pleasure.

I tilt my hips slightly, adjusting the angle, and your tongue follows effortlessly, finding the exact spot that makes my breath hitch. Your tongue grows more confident, dragging along my folds before circling my clit as I moan for you.

Looking down at you, I could see the flush on your cheeks, the wetness glistening on your lips and chin, your eyes half lidded with focus, the sight sending a rush of heat through me and I roll my hips harder, your tongue never faltering as you adjust to meet my every need.

“You look so pretty like this” I say, my voice shaky as your hands hold my thighs firmly to keep me steady.

I grip your hair tighter, encouraging you and you latch on more hungrily, sucking and licking in a way that sends sparks shooting through me.

“You’re such a good boy” I gasp, my words broken by a moan as the pleasure overwhelms me. I rock my hips against you, grinding harder now, and I hear your muffled moan that sends another jolt through my body.

Your tongue licks with an urgency that matches my own, our moans growing louder as I move faster, grinding myself against you, letting you feel how close I am.

“You make me feel so good, love” I say between moans and my thighs clench around your head, moments before I cum all over your face, screaming your name. My body shudders as you draw out every wave of pleasure and your hands loosen on my thighs as I collapse against you, utterly spent.

When I finally look down at you, I notice your swollen lips, your flushed face glistening and your expression full of satisfaction.

My fingers in your hair loosen, shifting instead to stroke gently along your damp forehead. I lift my hips to ease off of you and I take a moment to admire how dazed and hazy you look.

I reach down, tracing my thumb over your bottom lip, watching as you instinctively part your mouth for me.

“You did so well, I love you and now it’s my turn to make you feel good” I whisper and place a long kiss on your forehead.

[polgarawolf1]

Honestly? He's also kind of a lazy writer. I mean, just off the top of my head, in Star Wars: The Clone Wars, aside from completely misisng out on adding any richness or depth (or possible foreshadowing about what Skeevy Sheev might be up to) to the story by working in Sith alchemy, experimental cloning, Nightsister Dark Magicks, or anything at all truly interesting, he just . . . basically goes, "Somehow, Darth Maul survived." And we're supposed to just take that and believe he lives on rage alone, even though he's literally missing the majority of his digestive system (not to mention basically his body's ENTIRE waste management system), having been completely bisected by lightsaber at or slightly above the waist. He makes Ahsoka be assigned to Anakin as a Padawan instead of . . . oh, planning ahead so that someone else always has a claim on her and he's always going to end up losing her because her first Master is still alive, just recovering from something like, say, nearly being killed at Geonosis. That could have opened up SO MANY MORE storylines about the Jedi and how the Jedi Order functions (not to mention how the war might be changing things) - what Jedi do when Masters are too damaged to keep teaching their apprentices; what Jedi do about orphaned and virtually orphaned Padawans; and even, on the flip side, how Jedi generally treat Jedi who lose their Padawans (does the High Council automatically assign such a Jedi another apprentice? No? Why not? Or if not immediately, then when?) - and could've avoided the entire godsawful horrendous stereotypical "let's turn one of the widely seen as being Muslim-coded character into a terrorist" storyline with Barriss Offee, since, again, Anakin would always have to given Ahsoka back up to her original Master, once said original Master's considered fieldworthy again.

He's also lazy in that, instead of doing to work to show character motivations and to give them more/different motivations, he mostly just kills off female characters in order to force people to be sad and then to act out because of their grief and anger or else to add more "pathos" to the story (like it actually NEEDS more!). He fridges Mina Bonteri, Steela Gerrera, Jedi Initiate Kalifa, Jedi Master Adi Gallia, Jedi Master Tiplar, Teckla Minnau, and Satine Kryze (Duchess of Mandalore) in Star Wars: The Clone Wars (and he does kind of the same thing to Rush Clovis, too, arguably, though that's more to drive Padmé - who's basically informally on a break/separated from Anakin because of his behaviour towards Rush Clovis - back into Anakin's arms).

I can't speak much to other shows - I'm perpetually behind on seeing things because we couldn't get streaming even if we could afford it or wanted it. Plus, I just hate the animation design for Rebels - from what I'm given to understand from what I've seen online, though, his laziness as a writer is an ongoing issue. He has a bad habit of coming up with great characters but failing to follow through in any truly meaningful way on their backstories in regards to their cultures. There is SO MUCH we don't know about Mandalore, given how often Mandalore/Mandalorians come up in his shows, that it's not even funny.

Also, I want to sic George Lucas on him every single time the lying LIAR lies about the Jedi in general.

Hi Lumi. This year I’ve watched The Clone Wars, Rebels, Mandalorian, Book of Boba Fett, and Tales of the Jedi and I’m watching Ahsoka as episodes are released. But I feel like I’m missing some context as to why people are wary of Filoni. What things should I know so I’m caught up, so to speak, in the fandom discussions?

Hi! That's a lot of Star Wars to watch in a year, I hope you're having fun with it all! And I will gently remind everyone that Filoni is not the be-all-end-all of Star Wars creators--Henry Gilroy was there for TCW and Rebels, too. George Lucas was holding writers' meetings years after the show started (at least into 2010!). The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett are far more Jon Favreau's shows. The Bad Batch is Brad Rau and Jennifer Corbett. Resistance was developed by him, but was run by other producers. It's just that Filoni tends to get the most camera time and has become the face of Star Wars creators. That said, the issue with Filoni is kind of two-pronged, though, they overlap. 1. He's done a lot of interviews where he's said a lot of anti-Jedi things that have drifted from reasonable critiques in the beginning to eventually "Qui-Gon Jinn was the only true Jedi. [blatantly wrong citations]" This has put a lot of people off him as a creator, because we love the Jedi Order that Lucas talks about and established, which Filoni has actively contradicted over the years, despite being promoted as someone who follows Lucas' themes. And it's hard not to be aware of his interviews when watching his shows and it's hard to enjoy shows that do your faves dirty, you know? 2. His writing has become weaker over the years for a lot of us--Rebels is a show most of us love and found to be incredible. Many of us really love The Clone Wars, which he was heavily involved in/was probably the central voice after Lucas started phasing out. But his biggest story told over the course of those series--basically, the story of Mandalore's history and fall to the Empire--has been extremely thin for a lot of us. And a lot of us get frustrated at his inability to be objective when it comes to Ahsoka's character, that we love her as a character very much, but it hasn't felt like Filoni really knows what to do with her character arc and yet almost everything he writes is centered around her. His final season of The Clone Wars? Gave her the walkabout arc and the Siege of Mandalore arc, both of which often did not hold up well under scrutiny. His episode of The Book of Boba Fett? I actually really loved it, but it absolutely just stopped the pacing of that show to focus a lot on her. More on Luke, but he couldn't resist putting her in there, either. Tales of the Jedi was half devoted to Ahsoka and so much of it wasn't even about her time as a Jedi! We're frustrated because he doesn't set things up well anymore--Morgan Elsbeth is a Nightsister?? Why wasn't that established in The Mandalorian instead of pulling out randomly in Ahsoka? Why does Sabine Wren suddenly so badly want Jedi training, when they barely even had a conversation in Rebels?? There's a lot of good that Filoni has given to Star Wars, I think he genuinely cares about the Force and what it means--he's very consistent on how it's not easy and how it takes discipline and control, that he has been consistent on how anger and fear are paths to the dark side, even his episode of TBOBF had Ahsoka saying, yeah, attachment is a path to the dark side, because the Jedi mean "attachment" in a more Buddhist-aligned way. A lot of his writing for the character of Ahsoka is actually pretty good, like I've been enjoying her being a prickly, traumatized hot mess in the show! It's just that I kind of hate all the interviews he gives and I think he's a lot less objective than a lot of fans and media coverage that would hold him up as a perfect writer/interviewee about all things Star Wars, and it all comes together to make him kind of a hot-button topic.

So, a lot of people LOVE Filoni's work, a lot of people are frustrated by it, a lot of people are casually fine about it, a lot of people HATE Filoni's work and it can be a fun mix of any of the above or even other issues that come up. (And that's all fine! I have my views on Filoni's work, but it's fine if others hate it more than I do or love it more than I do, there's room for us all, all of it is valid.)

But I think if you want to understand some of the roots of this corner of fandom's frustration, two (admittedly long as heck) homework assignment reads would be:

- My own rebuttal to Dave's behind the scenes Mandalorian Gallery talk (this is jokingly referred to as "Davegate" because I refused to take it too seriously) - @david-talks-sw's collection of comparisons between Lucas' commentary on the Jedi and Filoni's commentary on the Jedi

This response itself is more focused on laying out the problems a lot of people have with Filoni's writing, but also honestly I still have my giant collection of Jedi source material citations that quotes his commentary, I still bring up Filoni's quotes in current meta a lot, I still talk positively about the things I enjoy from his shows, so overall there's equal amounts of both praise and criticism here. So, as short as I can make it (which isn't very, shut up, I know! XD), that's basically what people mean when they say they're wary of Filoni.

[theocddiaries]

[The Mean Bean is packed. Sonic walks in and takes a seat at the counter to talk to Shadow, who is handing out coffee cupcakes.] Sonic: Hey, quite the success. Shadow: Yes. I didn’t think people would like them this much. Sonic: I’m so glad to see you this happy and knowing you’re making a fortune doing something you enjoy. Shadow: Hm? Sonic: …You’re not getting paid more? Shadow: No? Should I? Sonic: Of course you should, Shadow! The recipe is yours, you came up with it and bake the cupcakes! Shadow: Oh, well… how was I supposed to know that for doing extra work in my free time I should be paid more? Sonic: … Shadow: Although, now that I say it out loud, it makes sense, because I’m spending all my money on butter and eggs. Sonic: Wait, you’re paying for the ingredients by yourself too??? Shadow: …Yeah? Did I do that wrong, too?? Sonic: Look, Shads, stop spending time with Knuckles. We were hoping he’d pick up some smarts, but in the end, he just passed on the dumb. You need to ask Stone and Eggman for a raise right now. Shadow: You think? Wouldn’t that be taking advantage? Sonic: Oh, come on! Shadow: I mean, maybe they’re not making that much money. Stone [rushes over]: Shadow, I’m heading to the bank to deposit the money because the register won’t close! [pats his head]: Oh, my little chef and savior! [leaves the café] Sonic [raises an eyebrow at Shadow] Shadow: …I think you’re right. You know what? I’m going to talk to Ivo and tell him to give me a raise. And now, since they think they're so smart, you’re taking this whole tray for free. [hands it over] Sonic: But I was about to go for a run-- Shadow: I said you’re taking it! Sonic [grabs it]: Okay, okay, okay. [leaves the café with the tray] [Robotnik comes out of the storage room. Shadow immediately follows him.] Shadow: Ivo. Ivo! Robotnik: Whaaaaaaaaaat. Shadow: Look, I’ve been thinking. Since I came up with the cupcakes, I bake them, and I brought them here in the first place, but you and Mr. Stone are the ones making bank, I think it’d be fair to give me a raise. Robotnik: No. Shadow: Thank—What?! Robotnik: And don’t start whining, we all have problems here. I’ve spent the whole morning going from bank to bank trying to figure out where to put all this cash. It’s a tough choice, you know? Shadow: Well, I’ll make it easy for you. From now on, I’m going to do what my contract says: be a waiter. Robotnik: Oh yeah??? Well, look what I do with your stupid cupcakes. [grabs two cupcakes, smashes them on the floor, then stomps on them in a little dance]: There! Now clean this up, waiter! Shadow [grunts and goes for the mop] Robotnik: Who do you think you are?! You think the café is gonna go empty because of you? Get off your high horse! Brayden: Dr. Robotnik, we’re out of coffee cupcakes. Robotnik: Well, no more coffee cupcakes then, big deal! [People start leaving the café.] Robotnik: Huh…? No, no, wait! Don't leave! …Crap, when Stone gets back, he’s going to kill me… Brayden, we need to make the cupcakes ourselves. You wrote down the recipe, right??? Brayden: No, since it was Shadow’s recipe, I let him handle it. Robotnik: …Okay. No problem. Give me the recipe book. [Brayden hands it over, and Robotnik starts smacking himself in the forehead with it.] Robotnik: Dang me, dang me and dang me!!!!!!!

[wheels-of-despair]

There's No i In Sickness Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman's been sick for a week, but she's finally well enough to reunite with Eddie! Contains: Hug deprivation, a happy reunion, sunshine, fluff. Words: 800ish

"Hello?"

"Dungeon Master, this is Evil Woman, do you copy?"

"Copy, Evil Woman, what's your status, over?" You can hear the smile in his voice over the phone, and you have one to match.

"Evil Woman and Little Drummer Boy have been cleared for contact, and the General's orders are to 'get outside and soak up some dang sunshine', over."

"For real?" he asks, forgetting your little game.

"For real," you confirm.

"On my way!"

Click.

Evil Woman and Little Drummer Boy have been cooped up for a week with some gross seasonal virus, and a nightly phone call with the Dungeon Master wasn't even close to being enough.

But you're free! Your fever is gone and your congestion is on the way out and you're ready to get out of this house and make up for a week's worth of hug deprivation with your Eddie.

You step outside into the perfect spring day, squinting at the brightness of the sun you haven't seen in nearly a week. The rays begin to warm you almost immediately. God, that's wonderful. You sit on the porch and lean your head back, closing your eyes while you soak up the sun and wait for Eddie.

The familiar roar of his van disrupts the silence of the neighborhood in record time. You open your eyes with a grin, seeing him fly around the corner. You're surprised he didn't go up on two wheels. You stand when the van skids to a stop in your driveway, rushing forward, ready for that hug that'll surely fix everything.

Eddie comes bounding around the side of the van, and you barely have time to brace yourself before your bodies collide. You stagger backward, laughing together, trying to catch your balance.

However, the slight incline of your yard works against you, and you both topple over and land in the grass with a yelp.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, looking down on you with his face full of concern and framed by his wild hair. The pictures all over your room don't do him justice. He's so beautiful, you could burst.

"I am now," you smile, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He nuzzles into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. And then he grins wickedly and attacks, kissing his way down your jaw and your neck and back up the other side.

"I! Missed! You! So! Fucking! Much!" he says between kisses. He's melted you. All you can do is lie there in the grass and laugh. You feel drunk. Drunk on love and kisses and Eddie. When he's had his fill, he rolls off of you. You move to your side so you can look at him.

"I missed you too," you whisper.

Looking at him isn't enough. You need to hold him. He seems to have the same idea, because you both inch closer at the same time, wrapping limbs around each other and pulling yourselves closer.

Lying here with him is like a sigh of relief.

There's nothing else. There's you, and there's Eddie, and the faint smell of smoke and his cheap cologne and sweet clover and earth and fresh air. What more could a person need?

"We gotta make out more."

"Oh yeah?" you chuckle into his chest.

"Yup. This week sucked a fat one. From now on, there's no i in sickness."

"How are you gonna take the i out of sickness?" you laugh.

"Your germs are my germs," he explains. "You don't get sick. I don't get sick. WE get sick."

"Eddie, you do not wanna be around me when I'm coughing and hacking and blowing brain matter out of my nose," you chuckle.

"I do, though," he says, nuzzling his nose against your temple. "I want all of you, all the time."

You pull back and lift a hand to feel his forehead.

"You must've--"

"I did not get The Plague," he argues with a roll of his eyes, batting your hand away. "I'm not sick. I just love you and I missed you and I don't wanna ever have to survive a whole damn week without you again."

He loves you so much, he genuinely wants to share germs. You should probably be grossed out by that, but...

"Dammit, Eddie," you sniffle, wiping away a tear. "I just got this stupid nose to where I can breathe out of it again, and you make me cry? Not cool!"

Eddie laughs and pulls you to him again, hugging you tightly there on the warm ground on this perfect spring day.

"What are you guys doing?"

You turn to see a disgruntled Gareth wrapped up in a comforter, glowering on the edge of the porch. Your mom must've finally forced him out of bed. You chuckle and turn back to Eddie, nuzzling your cheek into his chest. He pulls you closer. You sigh happily.

"Playing croquet," you answer.

"Having sex," Eddie says at the same time.

Your bodies shake together in silent laughter.

[nayaacknndy]

"as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you."

The sound of the keyboard echoed in the quiet room, the light from the laptop illuminated the face of the man in his late thirties in that dimly lit room, the glasses provided a reflection of the screen as he did the rest of his work, The silence of the night was deafening, but it made his hearing senses sound clearer to be alert.

A sound of the door creaking was heard, making him turn towards the source of the sound, thinking it was his wife, but it turned out to be just their cat, it meowed softly, approached him and climbed onto his table.

"There, buddy." He stroked its head, making the cat purr, but soon after, the cat meowed, looking at him with its gray eyes.

Leon didn't really understand or realize that look, until he heard the sound of breaking glass, making him jolted and immediately rushed out of his study, ran down the stairs in a hurry, and saw her there, his wife, one hand gripping the edge of the table, and the other touching her face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, babe." As soon as Leon pulled her into his arms, he could feel Noah's body shaking, her skin felt cold, he could already guess what she was feeling right now. Anxiety and possibility of PTSD.

Ignoring the broken glass to calm her down first, their cat who had been following Leon now climbed onto the dining table, sitting quietly watching them as if it had previously told him something was wrong with her.

"It's okay... I'm here now, always be right here with you." Leon kept trying to calm him down. While Noah remained silent, as if her emotions were struggling inside her head.

The warmth of Leon's body warmed her body and heart, making her lower her own ego, with hands still trembling and hesitant, she returned Leon's hug, burying her face in Leon's chest. Leon stroked her hair, while his hands were still tightly hugging her.

Leon cupped Noah's face, staring into the red and amber irises he admired. "I'll clean up the broken glass and let you have your hot chocolate, just wait a minute for me, okay, honey?" Leon smiled, giving Noah a small peck on her cheeks.

Leon did his job, cleaning up the glass shards and wrapping them safely for disposal, then made Noah the drink she wanted. Meanwhile, Noah, who was watching Leon silently, felt a soft touch on her shoulder, turning her head to see their black cat trying to get her attention by gently rubbing its paw on her cheek too, so Noah carried the cat in her arms, her expression was still hard to read, as if Noah herself was still confused about how she should react.

Some time later Leon finished making Noah hot chocolate, leading Noah to their bedroom as a comfortable place for Noah to calm down. Once inside, Leon closed the door softly, leading Noah to sit on the bed after which he put down the mug of hot chocolate, stroked Noah's cheek to keep trying to calm her down while Leon sat beside Noah, holding her hand in an attempt to let her know that she was not alone.

"You're not going to keep silent, are you?" Leon asked, his eyes still glued to her face while Noah looked pensive as she held the cat who kept looking at her face too. "You sometimes forget my duties as a husband."

Those words managed to make Noah turn her head towards Leon, a little confused look, a warm smile on Leon's face indicated that Noah didn't need to hide herself anymore, telling her that it was okay to involve him, it's okay to be herself around him.

The dark and dead gaze told him that Leon was right, the gaze that had no sparkle made his heart ache, with a faint smile of understanding, Leon shifted to adjust his position on the bed, pulling Noah into his arms as he half leaned against the headboard.

"Leon." Noah called, his voice soft, Leon hums softly, letting her know that Leon was listening.

"Am I Lycus?"

"No, you're Noah." Leon said, stroking her hair, his lips kissing the top of Noah's head, the woman did not take her hands off the cat. "You're still Noah to me though you're as strong as a goddess."

"You are stronger than you think, though you feel fragile." Leon said, his voice and breath were enough to calm Noah down at this moment.

"I am weak–"

"No, you're not, darling." Noah was silent, letting Leon's words sink in, her expression starting to weaken, but she didn't cry, her heart was pounding and her body felt hot and cold again.

"they said–"

"Mhm, not them." Leon cut her off, not letting Noah belittle herself. "You are special, you are strong, don't deny that."

Biting her lower lip, Noah took her hands off the cat to circle Leon's waist, closing her eyes, letting her ears rest on Leon's chest to listen to his heartbeat, making her calm down slowly.

Slowly, the images of her past faded back into Leon's arms, the burden on her shoulders fell off instantly, allowing her to surrender to Leon's love, allowing Leon to see her fragile side, allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of Leon, her husband.

His kisses, his voice, his breath, his heartbeat soothed her soul, makes her want to leave everything just to be near him, to feel the warmth that soothes her.

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you." Leon said, resting his cheek on the top of Noah's head once his woman had finally fallen asleep, followed by their cat who also seemed to calm down when it saw Noah getting better, lying between them.

"It's okay... Noah, don't worry, i'll be right here when you need it."

"Don't pretend to be strong in front of me when you're not, you are allowed to be weak in front of me, I love you for who you are and however you are."

—a/n : lmk if I misspell something, English is not my native language—

i bring a fanfic from oc x canon that i have (Lyceon is the ship name), im posting it here cuz usually on Insta, well... let's just say Insta hates me for typing long like this lol. so hope you like what i wrote, im not that good at writing, and made this in a hurry because it was already midnight, i'll revise this if there is something wrong :3

[cherryblossms]

garam was quick to tilt his screen away when angel asked what was so gross, not because he didn't want angel to see the picture he'd gotten but because he didn't want him to see what he wrote in response. he didn't want angel thinking garam was rushing things by the use of the word 'boyfriend' in a sentence. it was a response he tended to give to anybody who made a pass at him online, he had a boyfriend and was very committed to him, regardless of his current relationship status. "oh, you know. some people think it's entirely necessary to send me pictures of their poor excuse of a penis." he was so casual with how he spoke, as if it were something to happen all the time but it wasn't. it's happened to him numerous times over the ten or so years he's been making gaming and streaming his livelihood but it was never often enough for it to bother him. maybe that was because he didn't really look at the the dms people would send him, especially not after his following became significant. while it seemed more common for men to approach him with this avenue, he did have a small handful of women that would send him pictures of various body parts. but he tended to ignore those more, if he chose to open the message to begin with. when angel questioned him, all he did was shrug his shoulders the best he could laying on his stomach before he rolled over and pushed himself to the edge of the bed. "not always," he shook his head, "i don't open a lot of dms that i get, i only really look at them when i'm bored or have nothing else to do." which honestly didn't happen to him very often, he almost always seemed to be busy whether it was streaming, filming, or editing his videos or tending to axel's needs. waiting for angel seemed like the perfect time to look through a few, it was just one of those unfortunate occasion that he actually opened a message containing an image. when angel said he was ready, garam stood up and finally got a good look of the other man. almost immediately, a smile formed and he walked over to angel. "you look really good, almost too good to let you leave." he teased, a hand lifting to boop angel's nose, his hand catching on angel's after dropping it to tug angel along with him as he began walking. "you also have no reason to be jealous. you look way better than any of the guys who send me icky pictures. also, the ice cream thing, we can just bring it back here. i know it's really early, it just sounds good. the strawberries and whipped cream are for something else entirely." he only glanced back to angel once, harboring a sort of mischievous smile before looking forward again, still guiding the man to the front door. "can you drive? i know axel will be able to recognize my car, it'd just be better to leave it here and have him think i haven't gone out anywhere." that is, if he hadn't already gone to work. garam knew it was highly unlikely that he'd miss even just a hour of work to stalk him but he still didn't want to risk it.

Angel could hear Garam's voice floating through the bathroom door as he finished washing up, a smile tugging at Angel’s lips despite himself. The domesticity of it all – him sprawled on his bed, casually suggesting ice cream while he got ready – felt almost surreal after everything that had happened last night. "Ice cream at..." he glanced at his watch, "ten in the morning?" Angel called back, running a hand through his damp hair. The mirror was still foggy from the shower, but he could make out the marks on his neck that hadn't been there yesterday. Garam’s laugh echoed from the bedroom, followed by another disgusted groan that made him curious. Angel wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door, leaning against the frame to find Garam lying on his stomach, feet kicked up behind him like a teenager at a sleepover. The sight was endearing – this man who'd shown up at his door last night looking like a storm had swept through his life, was now comfortable enough to make himself at home. "What's so gross?" The raven-haired man asked, padding over to his dresser. Deciding to match the blue trim on the other’s vest he grabbed a turtleneck neck the same blue. With a dark pair of jeans. The morning light streamed through Angel’s window catching the water droplets still clinging to his shoulders, and he heard a slight intake of breath. It was strange how quickly things could change. Yesterday they had been just friends, and now... well, Garam was lying in his bed, scrolling through his phone and planning our day like he belonged there. Maybe he did. "Do you always get random dick pics in your DMs?" He asked, amusement coloring his tone as Angel turned to face him, clean shirt in hand. "Or am I going to have to get jealous?" The taller man teased pulling the turtleneck on and soon followed the rest of his clothes. His hair dripped wet as he pulled it back, a loose strand falling into his line of vision. “I’m ready when you are”

[maretinelli]

HAMILTON INTERVIEW

DadLewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Marie has a school activity where she needs to interview one of the parents about his profession, Pietra gets very excited and wants to do the same.

Words: 2.3K+

Warnings: Mentions of Lewis's career, Pietra jokes, cute daughters, funny couple teasing.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any mistakes that may be in the story. This story is part of a miniseries, Universe of A NON-SEPARATION, but can easily be read as a standalone. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

The Hamiltons' house was in a peaceful late afternoon. The sun was already beginning to set, bathing the living room in a soft golden light. From upstairs, the sound of doors opening and closing indicated that Marie and Pietra were in their rooms, changing clothes and organizing their backpacks after the day of school.

On the couch, Y/n sighed as she settled down next to her husband. Lewis smiled sideways and, without hesitation, pulled her into a hug, nestling her against his chest.

"How was your day?" He asked, running his fingers lightly down her arm.

"Tiring. I had to make several appointments at the office and a team from a hospital contacted me, wanting to hire me to help with a major surgery next month." Y/n admitted, closing her eyes for a second, enjoying the contact. "I'll explain better later... Picking up the girls from school was the easiest part. And yours?"

Lewis laughed. "I spent all day relaxing with Roscoe on the couch."

Y/n opened her eyes and stared at him, feigning indignation.

"How envious!"

The pilot laughed again, but soon slid his hand to his wife's face, caressing her cheek before pulling her in for a kiss. Their lips met in a soft, familiar touch, which gradually deepened. It was a calm kiss, the kind that didn't need to be rushed, just the moment. Lewis slid his fingers down the back of Y/n's neck, feeling the heat of her skin against his.

The moment, however, was interrupted by a familiar sound. Near the stairs, Marie cleared her throat, drawing her parents' attention.

The two walked away slowly and exchanged a knowing look before turning to Marie, who was watching them with a notebook and pencil case in her hands.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked amusedly, arching an eyebrow and holding back a smile.

Lewis smiled, settling back into the couch.

"It depends... do you want to talk about something really serious or can we continue?"

"LEWIS!" Y/n lightly slapped his arm, laughing, before looking at her daughter. "What's wrong, honey?"

Marie smiled and ignored her father's joke, getting straight to the point.

"I have to do a paper on professions. I have to interview one of you."

Immediately, Lewis and Y/n exchanged a glance, as if they were competing for a valuable prize.

"Well, I think we all know which profession is more interesting here..." Lewis said, crossing his arms with a smug smile.

"That's right..." Y/n agreed. "The medical one!!"

Marie laughed. "Actually... I chose Dad's profession."

"AHA!" Lewis cheered, looking at Y/n like he had just won a race. "Victory for me!"

Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing. "How unfair. I lost to Formula 1."

"Accept defeat with grace, doctor." He teased, smiling.

Y/n returned the smile before gently pushing him onto the couch.

Marie shook her head in amusement before sitting down on the floor and spreading her supplies out on the coffee table in the living room. Lewis soon followed suit, crossing his legs and settling himself in front of his daughter.

At that moment, Pietra came down the stairs, stopping when she saw the two of them sitting across from each other.

"Why are you like this? Are you going to arm wrestle?"

There was general laughter.

Pietra then crossed the room and threw herself next to her mother on the sofa, still looking suspiciously at the scene.

"Your sister has a school project to do with Daddy." Y/n explained, running her fingers through her daughter's curls.

"I want to do that too!"

Lewis turned to her with a warm smile.

"So grab some paper and pencil, little journalist. I'll answer any questions you want."

The youngest smiled excitedly and jumped off the couch, running up the stairs.

"BE CAREFUL, PIETRA!" Y/n warned, already anticipating her daughter's haste.

Meanwhile, Marie looked at her father. "The teacher gave us some questions we can use, but I made up some extra ones.

"I like the initiative." Lewis said, nodding. "Send the first one."

Marie looked at her notes and read aloud: "Why did you choose to be a Formula 1 driver?"

Lewis smiled, remembering the beginning of his career.

"Oh, that's an easy one. I've always loved running. Ever since I was little, I knew I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. So I dedicated myself, trained hard, and through a lot of hard work, I got to where I am today."

Marie took notes in her notebook as Pietra returned from upstairs, carrying a piece of paper and several colored pencils. She sat next to her sister and watched curiously as Marie formulated the next question.

Y/n, sitting on the couch, rested her elbows on her thighs and smiled. She knew her Hamiltons like the back of her hand. Marie would ask detailed questions and take notes seriously, while Pietra, in a few seconds, would say something funny and unexpected.

It was just a matter of time.

"What was the most difficult moment in your career?"

Lewis raised his eyebrows, surprised by the complexity of the question. He was silent for a few seconds, thinking.

"Hm... I think one of the hardest moments was when I narrowly lost a championship. We work all year for this, and when it doesn't happen, it's frustrating. But I learned that it's part of the sport, and we always have to move forward."

Marie nodded, writing everything down carefully.

Beside her, Pietra shifted excitedly on the cushion where she was sitting and looked at her father.

"Now it's my turn!"

Lewis smiled, already expecting something unexpected from the youngest.

Pietra took her paper and began to draw with colored pencils. As she traced something on the paper, she asked: "If there was a race against a dinosaur, who would win?"

There was general laughter. Marie rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile as she finished writing down her father's previous answer.

"Good question!" Lewis said, pretending to actually consider the question. "I guess it depends on the dinosaur. If it's a velociraptor, maybe it would be a handful, but if it's a T-Rex, I'll win hands down!"

Pietra nodded in agreement, as if she were an expert on the subject, as she continued her drawing.

On the couch, Y/n rested her face in her hands and laughed softly at the scene. Lewis looked away from her and smiled, his eyes shining with love. He loved seeing his wife having fun with the little things in the family. It was in these moments, in the midst of his daughters' fun chaos, that he realized how much he loved that life with them.

Marie finished writing and then turned to her father. "Daddy, how do you spell 'frustrating'?"

"Come here and I'll show you, honey," Lewis said, leaning over to read his daughter's notebook.

Marie brought the notebook closer and he pointed out the letters slowly, spelling them out for her.

“Ah, I see.” She smiled. “Thank you.” Once she had finished writing, Marie looked back at her list of questions. “Okay, next… How did you feel in your first Formula 1 race?”

Lewis gave a nostalgic smile.

"Oh, I was so nervous. It was one of the most exciting days of my life, and I just wanted to do my best. That's when I realized I was exactly where I always wanted to be."

Marie wrote everything down while Pietra continued drawing. The silence in the room lasted a few seconds until Marie realized something.

She lightly nudged her sister's arm and muttered softly, "P, your turn..."

Pietra raised her head, blinking a few times.

"Oh! It's true!"

She placed a finger on her chin and made a thoughtful expression before saying, "Daddy... have you ever slept inside the racing car?"

Lewis blinked, surprised by the question.

Y/n brought her hand to her mouth to hold back a laugh, while Marie shook her head, already used to her sister's unusual questions.

"Well..." Lewis crossed his arms, pretending to be thinking. "Not yet, but considering how much I travel, maybe one day I'll try!"

Pietra giggled and went back to drawing, satisfied with the answer. Marie just sighed, returning to her notes.

"Dad... what's it like for you to run and have a family at the same time?"

The question took Lewis by surprise for a moment. He looked away to Y/n, who was on the couch, watching everything with a calm smile. They exchanged a look full of affection before Lewis answered.

"At first, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to balance it all," he admitted, looking back at Marie. "But having you guys makes it all worth it. Every race I win, every podium, every hard lap... at the end of the day, I know I'll always come home to you guys, and that's the best feeling in the world."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart warm with those words. Marie smiled too, writing everything carefully, while Pietra, who was focused on her paper and colored pencils, blurted out out of nowhere:

"If mom was a pilot, would you beat her?"

The silence lasted only a second before Y/n let out a surprised laugh.

"I loved that!" She said, looking at Lewis with a mischievous look. "So, Hamilton? Would I give you a hard time?"

Lewis tilted his head, pretending to think.

"Hm... I think you'd be a tough opponent, but in the end..." He paused dramatically. "I would win!!"

Y/n widened her eyes, pretending to be offended.

"WHAT?"

Marie laughed, while Pietra looked at her father with wide eyes.

"Daddy! But what if Mommy was like... really fast?"

"I drive well!!!" Y/n retorted, crossing her arms. "Do you think I would never win a race from you?"

Lewis laughed, defending himself. "You have talent, love, but... experience counts!"

"Oh, now you're trying to teach me about motor racing?"

Marie laughed more and more, while Pietra just looked from one to the other, amused.

"I think mommy would win, yes!" Pietra declared, going back to drawing on the paper.

"That's right, P!" Y/n joked, winking at her daughter.

Lewis shook his head, laughing.

Meanwhile, Marie remained serious and organized, writing the answers correctly, while Pietra had already given up on the interview and was decorating her paper with stickers and hearts around her father's name.

Lewis looked at her drawing and chuckled.

"P is more concerned with making art than writing down the answers."

"Hey, I'm writing it down my way!" Pietra said, holding up the drawing to show. She had drawn Lewis in a race car and a dinosaur running alongside him.

Lewis laughed out loud.

Marie shook her head and asked another question. "What was the most special day of your career?"

Lewis smiled and replied, telling about his first victory in Formula 1. But, in the middle of the answer, Y/n made a sound with her mouth and crossed her arms.

"Hm... I think he's forgetting something important..."

Lewis looked at her, confused. "What?"

"That the most special day of your career was when your daughters were born," she said with a smile.

Marie rolled her eyes, laughing. "Mom, that doesn't count as a day in his career..."

"Of course it counts!" Y/n insisted. "I remember you were almost born in the Mercedes garage. And when your father held you for the first time, he said you were the greatest trophy of his life."

Lewis smiled, nodding. "Okay, okay, you're right. The most important victory of my life was you three."

Pietra gave a satisfied smile, while Marie wrote it down in her notebook in a more serious manner.

The mood became more relaxed, and then Marie frowned thoughtfully.

"Did you know that when I was very little, I was scared of the noise of the cars when I went to my first GP?"

Lewis raised his eyebrows. "Really? You remember that? I was so little!"

Marie nodded. "I was about a year old, I think...but I remember it was really loud. I think I cried."

Y/n confirmed, laughing. "Yes, you cried and clung to daddy at the time. You only stopped when he started talking softly in your ear and calmed you down."

Lewis smiled at the memory. "And now here you are, writing down everything about racing. Who would have thought, huh?"

Marie smirked.

"Yes...the noise doesn't scare me anymore."

Pietra looked at her sister and made a funny face. "You were scared!"

"You cried the first time too!" Y/n says smiling

"I think it's a lie..." Pietra says amusedly, coloring the drawing.

Everyone laughed together.

After several questions, laughter, and memories, Marie closed the notebook with a satisfied sigh.

"I think I have everything I need." She said, looking at her father with a smile. "Thank you, Daddy."

Lewis motioned for her to come into his embrace and smiled. Marie stood up and walked over to him, hugging her father as he ran his hands through her hair.

"Anything for you, sweetie"

Marie smiled proudly as Pietra held up her drawing and showed it to her father.

"I'm done too! Look, Daddy! You're running next to a dinosaur!"

Lewis took the paper and looked at the drawing carefully. He held back a laugh when he saw the dinosaur next to his car, but smiled fondly.

"I think this race was the most exciting I've ever had!"

Pietra smiled with satisfaction and threw herself into her father's arms too, Marie looked at the drawing and laughed.

"Well, now I just need to make a clean copy and write the final text..." Marie looked at the notebook on the other side of the table, still next to her father, hugging his neck.

"Do you want help, daughter?" Y/n asked.

"No need, Mom, I can handle it."

"My organized girl!" Y/n approached the three in the hug and kissed Marie's head and soon after Pietra, Lewis smiled seeing his three girls.

"I think my drawing is also worth it as a school project! I'm going to paste it in my notebook!

"And I'm sure your teacher will love it," Lewis said, kissing the top of his daughter's head.

Y/n smiled, watching the two girls snuggle into their father's side. It was in these little things that she saw how lucky she was to have that family.

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

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

Chapter Thirty Eight

I groaned as I shifted in the bed, my head pounding in a relentless rhythm that felt like it was drilling into my skull. The weight of last night’s decisions hit me all at once, each pulse of pain making the memories more vivid, but also more elusive. It was as if I could almost piece everything together, the laughter and the music and the overwhelming rush of being caught in the chaos of it all, but then it would all slip away, leaving nothing but the thick fog of my hangover. My stomach churned in response, a sickening reminder of the alcohol, of how much I’d consumed without a thought or care.

I turned over, groaning again, trying to find a more comfortable position, but that only made it worse. My head felt like it was full of cotton, my thoughts sluggish and tangled. I rubbed my temples in a desperate attempt to quell the pounding, wishing I could just turn back time, if only to make a few different choices. I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse from the aftermath of too many shots and too many reckless decisions, "Why the fuck did I drink so much?"

The words felt weak, as though my body wasn’t even willing to acknowledge the regret that followed them. My fingers pressed against my forehead, the motion more out of instinct than thought, as I tried to collect myself. The sick feeling that had settled low in my stomach refused to subside, threatening to make its presence known again, but I clenched my jaw, pushing it back, hoping the wave would pass.

It was at that exact moment that my phone buzzed on the nightstand, the noise slicing through the thick, foggy air. I blinked, suddenly more aware of my surroundings. This wasn’t Kayla’s place. The room, the sheets, the faint scent of unfamiliar cologne—they were all wrong. My heart rate spiked in panic, and for a few moments, everything felt surreal, like I was watching myself from outside my own body. Where the hell was I?

Frantically, I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I fumbled with the screen. As it lit up, I immediately saw a stream of notifications—missed calls, texts, a deluge of messages from AJ. I scrolled through them, my stomach turning as the realization hit me.

“Where are you? You okay?” “I’ve been trying to reach you, it’s been hours.” “Call me back now. I’m getting worried.”

Each message felt heavier than the last, and I swallowed hard, trying to push down the unease rising in my chest. With shaky hands, I pressed the screen to my ear and waited, each ring causing a knot in my stomach to tighten further. When AJ finally picked up, her voice came through sharp and frantic.

"Where the fuck were you?" she demanded, the frustration clear in every syllable. "I called like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up?"

I winced, my face flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. "Sorry," I muttered, the words coming out hoarse. "I... I was sleeping. I didn’t hear my phone."

There was a brief, sharp silence on the other end of the line before AJ responded, her tone still laced with concern. "Are you okay though?"

I glanced around the unfamiliar room again, feeling the panic crawl back up my spine. "Yeah I am but where are you?" I asked, trying to make sense of the situation. I needed something familiar, something to ground me in reality.

"I’m at home," AJ replied, the tension easing in her voice. "Damian hauled us from the club and brought us home."

A sudden, sharp sense of relief washed over me as I sank back against the pillows, letting out a shaky breath. "Wait, Damian?" I repeated, my mind sluggishly trying to catch up.

"Yeah," she continued, her voice softening. "He’s here to visit for a bit and thank god he found us. You were gone, and we didn’t know what happened to you, but he made sure we all got home safely."

I let my head fall back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. "Thank god," I muttered under my breath, my voice thick with gratitude. "I’m just glad you’re okay."

There was a pause on the line before Kayla’s voice piped up in the background, her voice gentle. "How’s the aftermath treating you?"

I let out a long sigh, rubbing my forehead as I tried to focus through the haze of my headache. "Apart from the killer headache and the sickening feeling in my stomach, I’ll survive," I answered, my voice a bit more steady now, though still rough around the edges.

"Good," Kayla replied. "Damian’s friend helped you out, right? He’s a lifesaver."

"Damian’s friend?" I repeated, my brain struggling to process her words.

"Yeah," she confirmed, sounding a little amused. "Damian said his friend took you to the hotel they’re both staying at since you didn’t have your keys, and you wouldn’t tell him my address."

I froze, the weight of the situation sinking in, and my face flushed with a wave of embarrassment. "Oh my god," I muttered, feeling like an absolute idiot. "I’m such an idiot."

Kayla’s laugh was light and reassuring, a sound that made the tension in my chest ease just a fraction. "Don’t worry about it," she said, the teasing tone in her voice impossible to miss. "Just make sure you apologize to the poor guy before you leave. I’m sure he didn’t expect to be dragged into all this drama."

I groaned, but I couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped out. "Yeah, I definitely will. I’ll see you in a bit."

"Cool," Kayla replied, her voice fading as she added, "See you later."

I dropped the phone down onto the bed beside me, staring at the ceiling as I let everything sink in. The urge to throw up hit me again, much stronger this time, and I quickly grabbed the waste bin sitting conveniently by the bed. The moment I did, everything came rushing up in a violent wave, and I emptied the contents of my stomach, not caring that I had no idea what I was even expelling.

But before I could even breathe again, I heard footsteps approaching—slow, measured. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I looked up, expecting to see anyone but who I saw standing there in the doorway of the bathroom.

My eyes went wide with disbelief, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as I stared at Jungkook, the shock and confusion momentarily overtaking everything else. "What the fuck?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, the words coming out harsh and unfiltered. My body felt like it was about to betray me again, but I couldn’t make sense of anything anymore.

Jungkook took a step closer to the bed, his gaze soft but concerned. "Hey," he said, his voice low and calm, as if testing the waters. "You okay?"

I blinked at him, the fog in my brain not quite lifting as quickly as I’d hoped. My body felt heavy, and I was still trying to piece together everything that had happened. Slowly, my mind started to catch up, the pieces clicking into place, and suddenly it hit me—he was the one Damian had mentioned. "Wait," I muttered, my head still spinning as I looked him over. "You’re the friend Damian said helped me?"

Jungkook gave a nervous chuckle, his hand moving to the back of his neck as if he were unsure whether to be amused or uncomfortable. "Yeah," he said, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his voice. "You were pretty wasted."

I felt my stomach tighten again, this time with a surge of frustration and embarrassment. I closed my eyes and rubbed my face, putting my hands over my eyes as I leaned back against the pillows. "Of all the people in the world," I muttered, my voice muffled by my palms, "why you?"

Jungkook’s laughter was soft, but there was a real edge to it, like he was caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief. "I keep wondering that too," he replied, his tone playful. "Maybe it’s fate."

I let out a low sigh, the words slipping from my lips before I could stop them. "What a shit fate," I murmured, shaking my head slightly, the weight of everything hitting me again.

He chuckled again, clearly finding some humor in the situation. "Well, you should take some medicine," he suggested, his voice turning a bit more serious. "Your head’s going to hurt for a while, trust me."

The bitterness in my stomach rose again, and I couldn’t help the sarcastic response that came out. I shot him a look and spat out, "Like you care."

Jungkook sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "If I didn’t care," he said quietly, but firmly, "I would've just left you out there singing on the streets." His eyes held mine for  moment, as if waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t.

I opened my mouth, ready to retort, but the words died on my tongue before they could leave my lips. Instead, I reached over to the nightstand, my movements slow and clumsy, my body resisting the effort. My fingers brushed against the familiar shape of the pill bottle and water bottle. I grabbed both with a trembling hand, quickly uncapping the bottle and swallowing the medicine in a rush, followed by a few deep gulps of water, hoping it would help clear the fog in my head.

Before I could even process what I had just done, I tried to sit up. The world tilted around me, spinning violently, and I immediately groaned, my body fighting against the dizziness that made me feel like I was going to collapse again.

Jungkook moved toward me without hesitation, his hands gently pushing me back onto the bed as he muttered, "Easy, tiger. You’re just going to make yourself more sick if you keep moving around like that. Lay down."

I gave him a pointed look, still too proud to admit I wasn’t in any state to argue, but the dizziness made it impossible to ignore. "I’m not staying here with you," I said, my words barely making sense as I tried to sit up again, but my body refused to cooperate.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "I’m not staying," he assured me, his voice steady. "Don’t worry. You’ll have the room to yourself. Damian’s going to be here in five minutes, so just get some rest."

I blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words. "Damian?" I repeated, confused. "Wait, what—"

"Damian’s staying here too," Jungkook repeated, cutting me off gently. "So just take a nap or something until he comes. Get some rest."

I tried to say something else, but before I could, Jungkook turned away, picking up his jacket and car keys from where they were carelessly thrown on the couch. He glanced back over his shoulder for a brief moment, his gaze meeting mine one last time before he nodded, almost as if to reassure me that everything was going to be fine.

Without another word, he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him as I lay there, still trying to make sense of everything.

A few minutes passed, the stillness of the room broken only by the pounding in my head. But just as I started to feel like I could finally breathe, I heard a knock on the door. I wasn’t sure if it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I called out anyway, "Come in."

The door opened with a soft creak, and Damian stepped inside, carrying a bag in his hands. The smell of food hit me immediately, warm and comforting, and for a moment, I just let myself inhale deeply. It was such a welcome change from the thick air of nausea that had filled my senses for the past hour. My lips curled into a smile without even thinking about it. "You're really here," I said, the words sounding almost like a relief.

Damian smiled back at me, his eyes soft with affection as he approached the bed and placed the bag on the floor beside it. Without hesitation, he pulled me into a hug, his arms strong and familiar, and for a second, I let myself relax into him. "Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you," he said, his voice warm against my ear. "How are you feeling?"

I groaned, the weight of my headache crashing down on me again as I pulled away just enough to look at him. "I feel like shit," I admitted with a grimace. "But it’s really good to see you."

Damian’s smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at me. "You too," he said, his voice laced with a hint of humor. "Just didn’t think it’d be under these circumstances."

I laughed nervously, the sound shaky. "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t plan on getting that drunk... it just kind of happened, you know? In the heat of the moment."

"It’s fine," Damian assured me, giving me a reassuring smile. "At least you’re okay."

But then my expression shifted, a serious look overtaking my features as something nagged at me. Something didn’t feel right. "So," I started, my tone shifting to one of suspicion, "care to explain why Jungkook was the one who took me home last night? And why you called him your 'friend'?"

Damian let out a long sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Well," he began, his voice quiet, "he was actually the one who called me about you guys."

"What?" I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"He found you on the streets and helped you," Damian explained, his eyes downcast for a moment. "Then he called me, asking if I could take you and your friends home. So... if anything, you should be thanking him, not me."

"But how did he know you were here?" I pressed, the feeling of unease tightening in my chest.

Damian hesitated, his eyes shifting uncomfortably. "Well..." he began, clearly nervous about the topic. "We may have made up. We’re back to being best friends again."

My eyes widened in shock, and I couldn’t help but shout, "What the fuck? How much did I miss?" The shock was so sudden that I felt my head spin once again.

Damian quickly shushed me, placing a finger to his lips, and his expression turned serious. "Let’s not get ourselves kicked out just yet," he said softly, glancing toward the door.

I blinked, my mouth hanging open in disbelief, before I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. "Sorry, but seriously... what happened to you hating him for being the prick that he is?"

Damian chuckled lightly, but there was a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "Let’s just say we talked things out. I found out some stuff that made me realize that Jungkook isn’t the bad person I made him out to be."

"What did you find out?" I asked, my voice filled with skepticism.

Damian hesitated again, his fingers drumming against the side of the bed, clearly unsure of how to proceed. "I think it’s best if Jungkook tells you himself," he said carefully, his gaze shifting away from me.

I stared at him in disbelief, feeling a wave of frustration rise in my chest. "Damian, not this again," I said, my voice tight. "I thought you were going to be open with me from now on."

"I know, I know," Damian said, his voice soft, yet apologetic. "But this really is something he should be telling you, not me. Please, just... when the time comes, hear him out, okay?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at him, my lips pressed into a thin line. "No," I said firmly.

Damian sighed deeply, his voice steady but filled with concern. "AJ, you know I only want what’s best for you," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "I would never tell you to do something I wasn’t sure of. But seriously... give him a chance to explain."

"Explain what?" I asked, my voice rising, a mixture of anger and hurt. "Why he so happily played with me like I’m some toy, then tossed me aside because Jade told him to? Nah, I’m good."

Damian’s face softened, his expression filled with understanding. "I know the whole situation was horrible," he said quietly. "And it really hurt you... but please, just let him make it up to you."

I narrowed my eyes, my heart racing in frustration. "How?" I asked, my voice almost pleading. "How is he going to make it up to me?"

Damian’s voice was calm but persistent. "Just give him a week," he suggested. "Let him try and regain your trust. If you’re not satisfied by the end of it, he’ll leave you alone forever."

I blinked, my mind spinning at the thought of giving Jungkook another chance. "Really?" I asked, unsure if I was hearing him right.

"Yeah," Damian said with a slight nod. "But you have to let him at least try."

I paused for a long moment, my fingers absently pushing my hair away from my face as I exhaled deeply. The weight of the decision pressed on me, and I felt my gut twist with doubt. Finally, I looked at Damian, my voice quieter now. "One week. That’s all he gets."

Damian smiled, a hint of relief in his expression. "I’ll let him know."

I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts a whirlwind, spinning faster and faster. The room felt small, like the walls were closing in on me with every second that passed. One week. One week to see if Jungkook could prove himself, to see if he could make up for the mess he’d caused. It sounded simple enough, but in my gut, I felt a gnawing unease. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was setting myself up for more pain, but maybe... maybe there was a chance he could actually change. Could he?

Damian's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts as he handed me the bag of food. "Here," he said, his tone warm, yet still carrying that underlying concern. "You should eat. It’s not much, but I thought you could use something to settle your stomach."

I took the bag from him absently, my fingers brushing against his for a split second, the warmth of his touch grounding me for just a moment. I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to say anything more. He stayed silent for a moment, watching me closely, before he gave a small smile.

"I’ll let you eat and get some rest," he said, his voice soft, understanding. "I’ll check in later, okay?"

I nodded again, the weight of everything pressing on my chest. "Thanks, Damian. For everything."

"Anytime," he replied, his smile growing a little more genuine before he turned to leave. Just before closing the door, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "I know it feels like you’re stuck right now, but you’ll figure this out. Just...don’t be too hard on yourself."

The door clicked shut, and I was left alone again, the silence wrapping around me like a blanket. I set the bag down on the bedside table, staring at it without actually seeing it, the chaos in my mind far louder than my physical hunger. But eventually, I grabbed the bag and pulled out the food. I took a bite, the familiar taste doing little to settle the storm within me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Jungkook. What had really happened between him and Damian? They’d made up, but how? What had changed? Was it really something that could make a difference, or was it just another attempt to brush the past under the rug? And most importantly—did I even want to give him the chance to hurt me again?

The questions piled up, each one more suffocating than the last.

As I chewed, my mind wandered to the one thing I hadn’t considered: what if Jungkook actually did care? What if there was more to his actions than the way he’d treated me before? The thought was almost laughable, but it hung there like a shadow, refusing to leave. Could I really trust him again?

I set the food down, suddenly too tired to eat anymore. I leaned back against the pillows, rubbing my eyes as exhaustion began to settle over me like a heavy fog.

The room felt like it was spinning again, and this time, I let it. Maybe it would all make sense later. Or maybe it wouldn’t.

I just didn’t know.

Time passed slowly as I lay there, trying to ignore the lingering ache in my head. The medicine had started to take the edge off, and eventually, I felt the nausea start to subside. My stomach settled, the room stopped spinning, and my mind began to clear, albeit slowly. 

I shook the thoughts from my mind and pushed myself up, groaning softly as my muscles protested. My head still throbbed a little, but it was bearable now. After a quick look in the mirror and a steadying breath, I grabbed my phone and quickly sent a text to Kayla: Heading to your place now. See you soon.

The journey to Kayla’s house wasn’t long, but the trip felt like a blur, my thoughts continuing to drift back to Jungkook, to Damian, and to the choices that were weighing on me. Still, as soon as I walked up to Kayla’s front door and rang the bell, I could feel a slight weight lift from my shoulders. I needed to see her, to be around someone who wasn’t a part of all the confusion.

The door swung open just as I was about to knock again, and there she was, standing in front of me with that big, welcoming grin plastered across her face. "Hey!" she exclaimed, stepping aside to let me in. "You’re alive. I was starting to wonder if I’d have to send a search party."

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth lifted in amusement. "I’m not that bad off," I said, though my voice was still rough from the night before.

Kayla raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying the casual tone in my voice. "Uhuh," she said, crossing her arms with a knowing look. "So, how’re you feeling now? Better?"

"Better, yeah," I said, pushing past her into the hallway. "I’m still a little shaky, but nothing compared to earlier."

Kayla let out a relieved sigh as she closed the door behind me. "Thank God," she muttered, before flashing me a mischievous smile. "So... did Damian’s friend explain what happened last night? I’m guessing you weren’t exactly left alone, huh?"

I froze for a split second, my heart skipping a beat. The memory of Jungkook helping me flooded my mind again, and I couldn't quite shake the image of him standing there, those familiar eyes watching me with something softer than what I'd remembered. "Yeah... about that," I said, my voice trailing off. "Damian came over and explained a few things. But there's still a lot I don’t understand."

Kayla’s curiosity piqued, and she cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

I hesitated, not wanting to dive into the whole mess of it just yet. "I’ll tell you later," I said, flashing her a small, tired smile. "It’s...complicated. But I’m okay now. Really."

Kayla studied me for a moment, her expression a mixture of concern and understanding. She could tell I wasn’t telling her everything, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she gave me a small nod. "Well, I’m just glad you’re here. You need anything? I’ve got leftover pizza—can’t promise it’s great, but it’ll help soak up some of that hangover."

I chuckled lightly at her offer, grateful for the distraction. "I might just take you up on that," I said, finally feeling the weight of the situation start to ease just a little. I needed comfort, and I needed Kayla. It was the one thing I could rely on, the one thing that felt solid.

She led me into the living room, where we sank down onto the couch together, surrounded by the chaos of her apartment—empty coffee mugs, half-rolled blankets, and the usual clutter of a place that was lived in. It wasn’t anything fancy, but in that moment, it was perfect. I leaned back against the cushions, closing my eyes for a brief moment before opening them to find Kayla watching me.

"So," she began slowly, clearly sensing my need to talk, "do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s going on?"

I met her gaze, her expression full of quiet understanding. For a moment, I thought about it. About telling her everything—the conversation with Damian, the talk with Jungkook, and the confusing mix of emotions I was trying to sort through. But I wasn’t ready to go there just yet. Instead, I gave her a small, shaky smile.

"Not right now," I said softly. "But I’ll let you know when I am. Promise."

Kayla nodded, her eyes softening as she leaned over to grab the pizza. "Okay, deal. Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. No judgment."

I leaned back, letting the warmth of her presence fill the empty spaces in my chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I wasn’t completely alone. Maybe I still didn’t have the answers I was looking for, but for now, being with Kayla was enough.

Well, at least that was the case until my phone lit up with a new message from Adam.

"Is everything okay?"

I blinked, the words catching me off guard. I quickly opened the message, my stomach tightening as I suddenly remembered Adam had texted me the night before. The message before his recent one read, "You wanna go out?” - yesterday at 8:45

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. How could I have been so stupid? I’d completely forgotten to respond to him, caught up in everything that had happened. The guilt settled into my chest like a rock.

Kayla glanced over at me, noticing the shift in my expression. "What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern.

I let out a long sigh, sitting up a little straighter. "Adam texted me," I said, my voice tinged with frustration. "And I completely forgot to text him back. I feel like such an idiot."

Kayla’s expression softened, and she reached out, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don’t worry, babe," she said with a small laugh. "It happens. He’ll understand. Just explain the situation, and everything will be fine."

I nodded, trying to shake off the guilt. "Yeah, you’re right," I muttered. "I’ll call him and explain."

Kayla smiled and gave me a thumbs up. "Cool. I’ll wait here. Take your time."

I got up and left the living room, heading down the hallway toward my room. The door clicked shut behind me as I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation still pressing on me.

I dialed Adam's number, my fingers shaking slightly as I waited for him to pick up. It rang twice before he answered, and I could hear the familiar warmth in his voice, though it was laced with a hint of concern.

"AJ? Hey, you good?" he asked, the relief clear in his tone.

I sighed, leaning back against the door as I gathered my thoughts. "Yeah... I’m good, sorry about not texting back," I said, cringing at how thoughtless I’d been. "Last night... it was a mess. Cyrus, Leah, Serena, Kayla, and I went to the club. We all got really drunk, and I wasn’t in the right state of mind so I completely forgot to respond to you."

There was a long pause on the other end, and I could hear him exhale before he spoke again, his tone softening. "Don’t worry it’s okay. But, uh, did you get home safe?"

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. The relief in his voice made my chest tighten, but before I could even process my next words, they spilled out. "Yeah, Jungkook took me home."

The second the words left my mouth, my heart sank. I slapped my hand over my mouth, as if that would stop the damage. There was a long stretch of silence on the other end, so thick it almost suffocated me.

Adam didn���t speak for what felt like an eternity, and I could feel the tension building with every passing second. When he finally spoke, his voice was sharp, barely contained. "Jungkook?" he asked, his disbelief cutting through the silence like a knife.

I mentally cursed myself, the realization of my slip-up hitting me like a ton of bricks. Of course I shouldn’t have said that. Of course, it was going to make him react like this.

"Yeah," I muttered, cringing at the way my voice cracked. "I was really drunk, and he found me singing on the street. He helped me get home. That’s it."

The silence that followed was heavy. I could practically hear the gears turning in Adam’s head. Finally, I heard him click his teeth in frustration. "You have to be careful, AJ," he said, his tone almost accusatory now. "Who knows what that bastard’s intentions were."

I flinched at his words, guilt spiraling through me as I tried to defend the situation. "Don’t worry," I said quickly, hoping to ease his concern. "He didn’t do anything. He just made sure I was safe. Nothing happened."

Still, Adam’s response was firm, almost cold. "I don’t trust him one bit. And you shouldn’t either."

My stomach tightened at his words, the worry creeping up my spine. I felt like I was trying to justify something I didn’t fully understand myself. "I promise I’ll be more careful next time," I said, trying to reassure him, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not for him. "I’ll be more wary from now on."

Adam’s tone softened a little, but there was still an undercurrent of frustration there. "Just be careful, AJ," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper now. "That’s all I’m saying."

I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. "I will," I promised, my voice barely above a murmur. "I’ll talk to you later."

There was a pause, and then I heard the faint sound of him sighing. "Yeah. Talk soon."

Before I could say anything else, the call ended. The line went dead, and I found myself staring at my phone in silence, my mind spinning. My heart was still racing, and I felt a growing sense of confusion wash over me. What had just happened? Why had Adam reacted like that?

Sure, I knew he didn’t like Jungkook—he’d made that clear a long time ago—but this wasn’t just dislike. This felt more... intense. Adam had sounded more angry than worried or protective. I expected him to be relieved that I got home safely, that I wasn’t in any immediate danger, but instead, he was angry. He didn’t trust Jungkook, which, I understood, but the force behind his words felt different this time.

[lilithschosen]

42, 49 & 84 PUH-LEASE! 😤❤️

🫡 right away!

42. "please don't think i'm weird for this"

49. "call me mommy"

84. "this is a one time thing"

The end of the week always results in a cuddle session, either in bed or on the couch, just to destress and ground themselves with one another.

Rio scratches her fingernails into Agatha's scalp, her arm around her shoulders as they breathe in sync. Agatha has her head on Rio's shoulder, eyes shut, all the worries from work draining from her body as Rio continues to rub her head.

Rio presses a kiss to Agatha's hair and stops scratching, "Hey, babe?"

Agatha grumbles a response, sounding like she had a mouth full of marbles.

"Can I ask you something?"

She lifts her head up now, blinking heavily as she focuses on her girlfriend. "What's up?"

Rio digs a tooth under one of her nails, eyes straight ahead and not at the woman in her arms. "Please don't think I'm weird for this."

Agatha sobers, sitting up fully as she takes Rio's face gently and turns it to face her. She gives a small, warm smile in support for whatever Rio was about to say.

"I'm normally the one saying that," she jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Whatever it is, I'll never think it's weird."

"Can you," Rio pauses, shaking her head as she steels herself to finish the request. "Can you call me mommy?"

Agatha's smile falters for a second, just a fraction of time, but she nods. Rio, ever perceptive, notices the drop and shields herself immediately.

"We don't have to," she rushes out, words feeling hot against her tongue as she spews them. "I don't want to make you feel weird. This is a one time thing."

Agatha just presses her lips against Rio's, a soft and loving kiss, a way to seal the deal. Rio melts into the kiss, arm wrapping around Agatha's shoulders as she holds her close.

The kiss shifts, Rio's lips parting as she invites Agatha's tongue in. She whimpers at the taste of her girlfriend. Untucking her legs from under her, she throws them over Agatha's lap and kisses her again.

Agatha's hands find their normal place on Rio's ass, keeping her in place. She licks into her mouth, then breaks the kiss as she drags her tongue down the front of her throat.

"What do you need, mommy?"

Rio sucks air through her teeth as she rocks her hips into Agatha's. "You. Mommy needs you. All of you."

Agatha grins into Rio's skin, hands brushing under her baggy tee that she stole from Agatha earlier that day. She reaches up, fingers tweaking hardened nipples.

"More."

Rio pulls her shirt off in one fluid motion, tossing it over her shoulder as she leans into Agatha's face.

Agatha bites down into the side of Rio's breasts while her hand cups the other one. Rio grinds down on Agatha's harness, feeling the bulge of the strap.

"Does mommy need daddy's cock?" Agatha rasps, thrusting her hips up into Rio. "Wanna watch you bounce in my lap."

Rio scoots back in Agatha's lap, fingers scraping and fumbling with the zipper of her jeans. She curses under her breath, panting like her life depended on the toy beneath Agatha's pants. She pops the button and grips the silicone, dragging it out as she pumps her hand around the toy.

Agatha bites down on her lip, watching Rio work the length in her palm as her heart pounds in her ears.

"Lift up," Agatha taps her hips, "Take your pants off."

Rio quickly stands, feet on either side of Agatha's thighs as she starts to rip her pants off. Agatha helps, grabbing them once they're bunched at her ankles. Before she can even get to the waistband of her green underwear, Agatha moves them to the side and grabs the base of her strap.

"Down."

Rio's knees buckle as she settles back down, the full length of Agatha's toy against her stomach. She lets out a groan, a raspy and deep noise from her chest as she stares at just how far the toy can fit into Rio's cunt.

"Daddy," Rio whines, "Please."

Agatha's lip curls, tucking the tip of the toy into her hand as she guide it to Rio's center. She drags it through her folds, gathering her slick around the head, before easing it into her.

As if she could feel it, Agatha whimpers. The resistance of the toy against Rio's tight walls has her on edge already.

"You feel so good, mommy."

Rio sinks onto the toy, greedy cunt taking the full length with ease. "Fuck, Agatha."

Agatha laughs, breathy and shaky as she thrusts into her. Rio matches it, bouncing up and down.

"Just like that, mommy," Agatha's hands glued to her hips as they give into one another. "Taking me so well."

Rio pinches her own nipples, head tilting back as she cants her hips into Agatha. Her moans guttural and needy with each thrust. She tries to maintain her balance and pace, but she's sideswiped by her orgasm. Her stomach tightens, subtle abdominal muscles contracting as she cries out.

"Cum for me, mommy."

[yannasuniverse]

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐊𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮? | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dominique Darius x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Domi have been rivals since y’all have entered college, You didn’t like her and she didn’t like you plain simply but what happens after you and her have a altercation on the court leading you and her become close with one and other and soon realizing all that hatred was love all along.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: There will be cussing, smut, arguing.

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This is a slow burn so if you don’t like that this is not for you if you wanted to be added to the taglist dm me or comment.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚: This is my first time writing for Domi and I need her so BAD # NEED THAT BAD

“You know your going to lose again for a third time again right?” Dominique taunted in your ear looking at you with that smug smirk that you hated. Rolling your eyes at her words beginning to walk away.

“Have nothing to say? Why because you know it’s true?” She says taunting you even further as she followed you. Turning around pushing Dominique hard on the floor with a angry look on your face.

She sat there confused for a sec before getting up shoving you back “What the fuck is your problem!” Dominique said making you getting up immediately hit her back.

Next thing you know your being drag away by your teammate Aubrey with blood dripping down your nose while Dominique had blood running down her lip.

“Stupid bitch! Fuck you!” You yelled struggle to get out of Aubrey’s grasp.

“Fuck you too!” Dominique yelled as one of her teammates lead her into the tunnel.

Once she was out of site Aubrey finally sat you down on a chair while medic immediately rush to you trying to stop the bleeding. You sat their getting medical attention as Geno yelled in your ear.

“What is wrong with you?! Your one of my best players I can’t have you acting like this!” “Yeah but she literally!-” you tried to protest but only to be cut off “That’s no excuse! You have to ignore stuff like that!”.

Putting your head down as he continued to yell at you, tear’s welling in your eyes. “Do you understand?!”

Nodding your head “Yes sir..” you mange to mumbled out “good now go in the back and get cleaned up” He said dismissing you, patting your back as you stood up walking to the back.

Walking into the locker room going to your locker. Sitting down burying your head in your hands, frustration and anger filled you as you let Geno’s words sink in.

Grabbing your clothes, changing out of your jersey. Walking into the bathroom, whining as you saw your nose bruising purple.

“Just fuck my life” you said walking out to the locker room, reaching the court seeing the fourth quarter was about to end.

Walking over to the bench sitting next Azzi “Are you ok?” Azzi said looking at you in concern as she examined your face.

Giving her a nod and a small smile “Yeah am fine, just you know a little mad at myself that’s it” You say try to shrug off your real feelings.

She gave to a look not believing that your a little mad at yourself “Don’t lie too me, don’t beat yourself up it’s not your fault” she said rubbing your back before giving you a side hug.

The buzzer went off, the game ending with USC winning by 2.

Feeling eyes on you, looking around seeing The Dominique Darius staring right at you man spreading with her curls falling over her face perfectly and her busted lip you have gave her. Damn did she look good.

Y’all kept eye contact not nether of y’all Break it, You can feel your heart speed up a bit but dismissing it quickly breaking eye contact, following your teammates to shake hands.

Mumbling a small good game as you made your down the line. You had made it to the end of the line which of course she was at the end. Rolling your eyes as you got to her

Y’all stared at each other eyes never leaving each other’s. “Nice bruse” Domi said grinning ear to ear looking at your nose proud at what she did. Your eyes narrowed a bit getting annoyed again.

“Yeah I could say the same thing about you” You said with nothing but venom in your tone.

“It’s ok pretty don’t beat yourself up, am sure you beat me someday” She said walking past you to her team. Leaving you alone in your thoughts.

God did you hate Dominique Darius with every will in your body.

©𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[toniwritesshifts]

The Night We Met Pt.1

First FanFic if there's anything that should fix or work on please tell me I need the criticism

Damian Wayne x Fem reader

This is based off of my DCU DR... if you don't believe in shifting keep it to yourself cause I could careless I wrote this for fun. Reader is based off of me cause I love me. Reader, Damian and most of the people they interact with are in the 10th grade unless said other wise.

CW: slow burn like REALLY slow, swearing, reader has ADHD because I have ADHD, Split POV?

"Today is going to be a great day."

You stare at your reflection in your dorm bathroom mirror, leaning onto the sink to inspect your face. No glaringly red pimples—well, except for that one. Without hesitation, you pop it.

"I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it," you complain to yourself, grabbing a pimple patch and slapping it on.

With an approving nod to yourself, you back away, rush out of the bathroom, and immediately trip over a pile of clothes. You barely catch yourself before face-planting.

"Shit ok, note to self put these away before they actually kill me."

You shake it off, grab your backpack and cheer bag, and speed out of your dorm, locking the door behind you. As you make your way to the school building, you slip one AirPod into your ear and adjust your bags.

"Good morning!" you chirp, greeting every person you pass.

"You're late," a voice says the moment you reach the school stairs.

You scoff. "Nope, I’m right on time, actually."

Alex, one of your best friends since you transferred in the middle of ninth grade, rolls her eyes. The rest of your crew—Mia, Terra (yes, that Terra, the one who’s supposed to be dead), and Brinley—are already there, chatting about their schedules. After a few minutes of catching up, you all head inside to drop off your stuff before class starts. The last thing you need is to be late—especially since detention means suspension from the cheer squad.

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

Damian Wayne hated school.

It was inefficient, mind-numbingly dull, and filled with people he had zero interest in interacting with... well that's what he told his father. But here he was black backpack strapped tightly on, security lock in place (only he and Alfred knew the combination), wearing the standard Gotham Public uniform in blue, white, and black. In his hands, a single sheet of paper listed his dorm and locker number, along with his class schedule on the back.

After several frustrating minutes, he finally located his locker. Right next to the bathroom.

"This is disgustingly unacceptable."

He scowled, reluctantly opening it and arranging his belongings inside. He grabbed his massive binder capable of holding twelve six-subject notebooks along with his sketchbook and pencil case.

BANG!

A locker slammed shut next to him, the noise so sudden and aggressive that Damian whipped around, fully prepared to fight.

Instead, he found himself face-to-face with you.

"Are you new here?" you asked casually, balancing an absurd number of things—an oversized laptop that clearly wasn’t for schoolwork, a bag stuffed with library books, and a tiny, overstuffed backpack that was one bad tug away from falling apart.

But the thing that really made him frown?

That obnoxiously colorful pencil case sitting on top of your stack.

He scowled on instinct. You were chaotic. Loud. Distracting. He already disliked you.

"We have the same classes!" You say looking at his schedule over his shoulder "Cool. I'll show you around come on," already walking off without waiting for a response.

Damian blinked. Is she just assuming I'm going to follow her?

A part of him wanted to ignore you. Another part, the one that always sought information and efficiency, decided it was the most logical course of action. With an irritated sigh, he shut his locker and followed.

You lead him through the hallways, weaving through students while Damian silently trails behind.

“This is the cafeteria. The food is actually pretty good for a public school, but oh my goodness, whatever you do DO NOT try the mystery meat unless you wanna meet God early.”

Damian barely listens. He’s too distracted by the fact that ‘mystery meat’ even exists in a place meant for education and the absurd number of people who stop to talk to you.

Everywhere you go, someone waves says hi, or stops to chat. People throw out gossip, random compliments, and even inside jokes.

You know everyone.

It’s exhausting just watching you socialize.

Damian, used to go unnoticed unless he wanted to be seen, and he found it deeply irritating. He didn't like unnecessary attention. He didn't like small talk. And he definitely didn't like how effortlessly you commanded every room you walked into.

As you continue to weave through the crowded room, students keep stopping you some to say hi, some to ask questions, and a few just to gossip for the hell of it. Damian watches, mildly horrified, as you effortlessly jump from conversation to conversation.

"Anywho," you continue, not missing a beat, "the library is on the third floor, but I swear its haunted, so if you hear whispering, just keep it moving."

Damian raises an eyebrow and scoffs. "There is no such thing as ghosts."

You stop and turn to look at him with the most offended look you could possibly muster. "Says the guy who has classes with me, meaning he takes Advanced Mythology AND Paranormal Studies. Boom."

He opens his mouth to argue but then immediately shuts it.

"Touche," he says after clicking his tongue in annoyance.

You grin before turning on your heels to continue the rapid tour. Makeing sure that the tour ends right outside of your first-hour class.

By the time the first bell rings, Damian has already learned several things: You are absurdly social, you have way too much energy for one person, you talk with your hands, aggressively. (He nearly got smacked twice already, you are completely, utterly, and unapologetically YOU.

And for reasons he can’t quite explain yet,

But, it doesn't annoy him as much as he thought it would.

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

it took me 2 days to write this mainly because I was crocheting and working on my script buuuuut I'll try to make the next parts in about the same time span unless I get grounded 😶

[trinnityn]

YOU -E.W

Warnings; 18+ content.Stalker!Ellie, Perv!Ellie, Choking, Strap usage R! receiving, Pantie stealing, Alcohol, Slapping, Cheating, Semi-Outdoor sex, Subtop!Ellie, Use of Y/N

heavily inspired by YOU (the netflix series) first time writing.. kinda nervous. sorry if theres any mistakes in the comma placings and horrid writing😭 english isnt my first language.

On a chilly, calm night, A series of nonstop cries had awoken the couple. Ellie's eyes wandered to Dina. Rocking their little baby boy back and fourth, but. truthfully? her mind wasnt occupied by her wife.

Rays of sunshine kissed your pale complexion as you longue with a book in hand. another reaching for a glass of martini. Ellie's eyes have been on you ever since the day she saw you. that moment plays in her head on loop, constantly. like a broken record she was memorizing every possible detail. Was it love at first sight? yes. she's convinced it is. yet, Ellie's musing was paused by Dina's voice.

"Ellie! stop staring like an idiot and help! go grab JJ's diapers for me." Ellie's expression remains unbothered as she rises from the surface of the couch. her footsteps making the old oak underneath creak slightly.

She ascended up to the flight of stairs in a slight rush before pushing the door to their shared bedroom open. Clammy hands slowly opened a drawer as she looked down at the bunch of diapers organized there. Desperately forcing herself to not take a look, but. one peak wouldn't hurt, right? She poked her head to the window, where the view led right to your backyard. There you are.

All dolled up. Wearing a frilly bikini set. Oh, how she would die to tear it apart and spread out. fucking you right then and there where anyone could walk in. anyone could see. No! Ellie shook her head frantically as she turned her attention back to the diapers. Grabbing one as she hurried back down the stairs

Ellie was met with a frown etched on Dina's expression as she snatched the diaper away from Ellie's hand. "Took you long enough." She mocked with a slight scoff. Ellie sighed as she uttered out an excuse "I'm sorry. I forgot which drawer it was." Dina's eyes shot back a glare as she raised her voice "Well it doesn't take that long to open every drawer and check, Ellie."

Ellie sighed internally. Only you. could ever get me to deal with this her. her inner dialogue ran. Ellie stared back blankly before she opened her mouth, her wife had already interrupted. "You know what? fuck this. you never care. im gonna stay with joel for a while." Dina stormed out with JJ in her arms as she slammed the door shut.

A rush of joy coursed through Ellie's nerves, was her wife mad at her? yes. but she gets to spend time with You. She waited impatiently to hear the sound of Dina's car driving out of the garage. She heard her cue before hastily rushing out of the house and immediately knocking on Your door, And there You are. Skin slick with sweat and water as a towel hung around your neck, your hair adorned with a flower clip as the water drips from your ends down to those.. what size are they? Ellie gawked as her mind wandered onto that single question.

You giggled slightly as you teased, "Hey, els! What's so interesting?" Ellie instantly snapped back. "just had a fight with my wife.. sorry. I really need someone to talk to." Ellie fought back her desires and glee underneath the guise of a saddened wife.

Your eyes shined with empathy as you wrapped an arm around ellie's neck, cooing softly. "aw.. im so sorry, els. come in, we can have a chat while i take a dip." Ellie's senses we're filled with the heavy scent of alcohol. as Ellie's eyes gazed into yours, she pondered "you're drinking? what did your husband do this time? i could treat you better, Y/N."

as Ellie's feet surfaced the cold, slippery area of the pool, you retracted your arm and quickly dove into the pool with a splash, resurfacing up with a smile etched on her features, along with a giggle. Ellie's heart leaped in joy at the sight. feeling heat rush up to her cheeks as she responded with an equally big smile.

You folded your arms onto the pool's return lines, smiling widely as you questioned "So. What triggered the fight in the first place? if you don't mind me asking." Ellie took a seat on the Daybed as she spoke half-heartedly "Uh. No, I don't mind. You know just the usual. I didn't bring JJ's Diapers fast enough so she got pissed and said Ididn'tt care- which is not the case by the way."

You hummed at Ellie's alibi. "well. I think she's just going through a lot.. and you haven't spent much time with her? You really need to. it's super important." Ellie nodded before murmuring softly, her smile growing to a small frown "Yeah. I just wish she'll come around soon for me to even make it up to her."

"I'm sure she will, soon," you spoke reassuringly before she rose up from the pool, water cascading every nook of her body. Ellie held her gaze low as she twiddled with her hands nervously, taking every inch of her being not to ogle at the sight. She heard the sound of liquid being poured, turning to her side to glance, you were pouring a cup of tequila. Before handing it to Ellie with a smile "Fuck. stay calm Ellie, stay calm, Stay calm." Ellie's thoughts ran like a train

"lets drink all this out of our system. how about that?" You sat next to Ellie with a grin, one hand gripping onto the bottle of tequila as you spoke enthusiastically. "You're gonna drink all of that? isnt it too much?" Ellie questioned, her voice laced with concern. you giggled and shook your head "no, silly! there's barely any left." you narrowed the bottle to a light source, the light shining through as it revealed the bottle barely had any liquor left.

Ellie nodded as you counted down with triumph. "one, two, three!" Ellie placed the glass against her lips as the burning liquor flowed down her throat. Her gaze turned back to you, who had already withdrawn from the bottle. Your eyes hazy, lips puffy, cheeks burning a rosy tint. "she's gonna look worse even better. when I fuck her so hard she'll even run out of tears to cry." Ellie thought.

Ellie's mind felt cloudy as she began to lose control, alcohol breaking into her system over time. You giggled uncontrollably as your words started to sound like a blur to Ellie, though she snapped back as she heard a clank and the sound of glass breaking. You blubbered in pain as you held you wounded hand, Ellie immediately rushed by your side to tend to it.

"ouch, els... i was being stupid." you cried out as Ellie spoke in a panic "uhm do you have a medkit somewhere?" you nodded "in my medicine cabinet its in my room. on the second floor." Ellie quickly rushed indoors as she went up the stairs leading to the master bedroom. opening the medicine cabinet with ease, her eyes darted to the dirty laundry basket. "why not grab a little trinket for myself?" Ellie's hand briskly tucked a pair of dirty panties into the pocket of her jeans before retrieving the medkit and rushing back down the stairs to tend to you again.

Ellie made quick work of caring for your wound, gently wrapping the bandage around, afterwards you smile slightly "thank you, els.." slurring your words, the alcohol intoxicating your mind and Ellie's. Ellie nodded. eyes looking up in awe into yours as she murmured "you're gorgeous." You smiled earnestly as your promixity grows closer, your nose bumping to hers in a moment of silence. Ellie's Gaze trailed down to your lips before she leaned in.

Closing the distance within Eachother. as she closed her eyes shut, desire taking over her every being. your arms wrap around Ellie's neck, holding her closer. Ellie's hands grew touchier. feeling every curve and dip, though the moment was abruptly interrupted as you pulled away from the kiss, looking into Ellie's eyes, questioning and pleading for a sign of consent.

Ellie, stuck in a trance, nodded frantically. god.. it feels like you put her in a spell. "fuck.. cant believe this is coming true. fuck yes-fuck" .Ellie bolted at the chance to pin you down onto the Daybed and attack your neck with marks and kisses

"hurry..." Ellie whined, elongating the word as she ran her hands down your torso. eventually reaching the hem of your bikini bottoms. You nodded, whispering in a soft tone. "take them off.."

You hummed in satisfaction as Ellie tore the flimsy fabric apart, revealing your puffy, wet slit as she takes in the sight. studying your whole being, every curve, every mark, every imperfection becomes perfection in her eyes, you could do no wrong, you have no flaws.

her own crotch throbbed at the sight as she palmed on it. feeling the back of her strap on and rubbing it against her own clit as she panted softly. Your hands slowly trail to your bikini top as you lifted it over your head, your breasts jiggling slightly at the release.

Ellie groaned at the sight as she neared her climax. You turn to her, fully undressed as she immediately stopped her movements. "what were you doing?" You questioned with a slight tilt to the side of your head. "nothing." Ellie's hands found place on your torso as she rubbed it slowly with her thumbs.

You slowly rose from the Daybed before flipping your positions. putting Ellie underneath and pinning her down onto the Daybed, You leave a small trail of lovemarks within the column of Ellie's neck. Soft groans left Ellie's lips as she rutted her hips desperately against your bare pussy. Feeling the bulge in between Ellie's legs, you reach to unzip her pants.

Her strap on sprung free from the confines of Ellie's jeans As you giggle teasingly "you've been wearing this the whole time? who knew you were so prepared." Ellie grabbed a hold of Your hips as she immediately slammed you down, your face contorted to bliss, mouth forming an 'O' shape at the sudden intrusion. "yeah." Ellie uttered out in a shaky, breathy voice.

You took over, Bouncing up and down on her cock within your own pace, Ellie laid back. Enjoying the view as her hands maneuvered your hips. her eyes glued to your tits that sprung up and down with every thrust. Enchanted wih the sight of them, her mouth opened to speak but nothing came out, her thoughts ran wild as she let out a small groan, stiffling her urges.

You noticed Ellie's dilemma, grabbing her hand and leading it to her tits as she cried out "touch them, touch me." Ellie's face Heats up a pink, rosy tint as she squeezed and landed a small, experimental slap against the two orbs. Looking up to your eyes, searching for approval.

You were way too lost, though. Your moans, screams echoed through the athmosphere of the cold night as you rode Ellie's silicone length. Tears welling up in your eyes as your body gave up on you, your movements stilling "cant do it anymore, els.." Ellie's hand placed a stinging slap to your twitching bud as you recoiled from the impact, letting out a long whine. Ellie's cunt throbbed at tbe sight before rubbing small, apologetic circles on Your clit as her thumb danced above the rosy bud.

"Please, els.. just fuck me." You pleaded and pleaded until your pleas turned into incoherent whines. Ellie hesitated before thrusting her hips into Your sopping cunt, harshly jabbing Her strap deeper. Ellie looked up at you in admiration, The way your back arched, and how tightly your holding onto her thighs for leverage. God. she wanted to do more.

Her hands snaked around your hips again as she held onto them like a vice. letting out soft grunts at every thrust up into your bruised cervix. Ellie let out soft whines seeing the sight before her as her whole being tremored in excitement.

Ellie grunted, pressing her lips into a thin line as her eyes focused on each and every expression that came across your features before begging breathlessly "can i touch you more, please?" You let out a shaky chuckle, muttering out "stop asking, els. yes, you can." your hips lightly moved, turning Ellie's cock in your pussy to different spots as Ellie paused her thrusts. Ellie poked a specific, spongy area as she grabbed your hips. Resulting in a loud whimper from your lips. Ellie's hold tightened as she thrusted into the same spot, abusing it as she watched you grew more vocal. Ellie's mind was clouded with a vision she couldnt help make but make it come true.

Ellie wrapped a hand around Your neck tightly, Borderline bruising as she thrusted in and out of your poor, sopping cunt. squelching sounds grew and so does the wetness of your well-fucked pussy as you neared your climax. Ellie's Thrusts grew lazier as she whined, squeezing your throat tighter in retaliation, though not enough to injure you.

Ellie's thrusts grew more frantic as she felt her own climax near, whimpers and whines drawn out of her weary throat. Ellie let go of the hold on your throat as her back arched, she gushed against the back of her strap. You pulled Ellie into a deep kiss as she hummed in satisfaction, questioning into the kiss "did you cum..?" You giggled as you slowly regained your pace, riding Ellie, you muttered breathlessly "no.. not yet." Your supple cheeks bounced with every thrust as Ellie groaned, feeling the strap on hit her clit with every thrust landed. mewls escaped Ellie's throat as you sped up, "Im coming, Ellie!" You screamed, your voice ripping through the serene, calm night. liquid gushed out of her twitching bud wetting Ellie's lap. not like she minds, though.

Ellie stilled as she processed everything "fuck.. did i really just have sex with her...? fuck-fuck-" Ellie basked in the afterglow, admired your sweat slicked skin as she looked up to the sight of you panting. "im the one who made her that breathless? shit- i already wanna go again." Ellie's mind was a fog. partly from the alcohol in her system, the other part? she just fucked the girl shes been obssesing over in months.

All those times she's stalked you through your home security camera's, turning something to ensure your safety against you. huh, it wasnt a waste majoring in Electrical Engineering afterall. Ellie was bought back to reality the moment she heard your soft voice whispering. "hey, creeper. so how long have you been into me?" Ellie's cheeks flushed a soft pink as she took in your hand to place a small kiss to your palm. "since.. 8 months ago, maybe."

you giggled happily before mumbling in a weak, soft tone. "same goes here for me." Ellie's eyes widened slightly as she spoke in excitement. "wait- so are we a thing now?" Ellie quickly paused "fuck. i sounded too desperate." her thoughts ran nervously.

you shook your head as you whined "you have a wife, silly. if you dislike her soo so much.. if you wanna be with me so badly, then.. divorce her." Ellie's expression dropped. her goal was now, of course; divorce dina but-

A kiss was pressed against Ellie's lips, putting a pause to her thoughts. as you inquired gently. "you dont have to choose now.."

Only writing a part 2 if this doesn't totally fumble😭

-XOXO, trinnifer💋

[the-marshals-wife]

No More Tears (Oz Cobb x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: First fic of the year. 🥂 Writing this was extremely cathartic, as was binging The Penguin twice over my winter break. The brainrot is severe, for which there is no cure but this. Oz is very protective of what's his, and as it turns out, that includes you.

Description: Oz Cobb/The Penguin x Fem!Reader, angst / hurt+comfort (plus a teeny bit of ending fluff) | Rating: MATURE for violent content and adult themes | Warnings: violence and blood, injuries described, mild language, name-calling (not towards Reader), alcohol, drugs mentioned (drops), suggestive themes, pet names (endearing), Reader is injured by a club guest and Oz beats the daylights out of the culprit. | Setting: before the events of The Batman | Word count: 3.1 k

Imagine Oz finding out that you've been hurt, and getting sweet revenge

The throbbing in your temple brings tears to your eyes, and your hands shake as you cradle the side of your face. You draw in a sharp breath, the cool metal of the elevator wall against your back grounding you a bit. Several excruciating seconds later, the doors open, and you resurface from the 44 Below much more battered than when you went in. As the pain starts to intensify, you look for somewhere to retreat out of view. The last thing you needed was anyone seeing you weak.

Of course, there was hardly such a place within the walls of the Iceberg Lounge. With few other options, you make a bee-line for the bathroom. No one seems to notice you in your afflicted state as you rush through the dressing area and out into the upper-level of the club. The flashing of the strobe lights normally didn't phase you, but now they feel like ice picks in your eye sockets. Only halfway to your destination and several more flights of stairs ahead, you can barely hear the thundering base of the club music over the pounding of your heartbeat. Suddenly your vision blurs, and you quickly grab onto the railing to steady yourself.

There are people on every side, but they're far too deep in their drinks, drugs, and pleasant company to notice you. For once, you're grateful for it.

"Concussed by some worthless drophead," you mutter, your head swimming. It had been a mistake to look down over the edge.

You stand up to go lean on the wall instead, but you catch sight of your hands. You look down at your fingers to see them smeared with blood. Your stomach twists with sickened realization. When the creep downstairs backhanded you, his ring must have cut you open.

Before you can speak the curses on your tongue, you hear your name being shouted. Even in your dazed state, you recognize the voice of your coworker.

"Y/N," she calls out again, her voice barely rising above the dull roar.

You sway around to face her, and her shock is immediate, as expected.

"Oh-," she exclaims, wide-eyed, "Are you good?"

"Not exactly," you answer, wincing, "Drophead got handsy."

"They always do," she says, shaking her head. Her nervous smile turns to a full grimace. "Oz wants to see you."

The boiling fury in your veins instantly transforms into frigid panic. "You gotta find someone else. I can't do it. He cannot see me like this."

"He asked for you specifically," she replies, shrugging. "You better get up there. Try to hide it with your hair."

With that piece of advice, she walked away. You couldn't blame her. She had her orders, and you had yours. If only they'd come just a few minutes earlier.

Righting yourself, you wipe your bloodied hands on your navy blue skirt, and pull the pins from your hair, letting it fall down around your face. You tousle it with your crimson stained fingers as much as you can, but even if you had a mirror, you know full well that no amount of tugging at your bangs could fully conceal the gash in your brow. Still, it would have to do. You can't keep Oz waiting.

Exhaling, you start the climb back up to his office. The pain in your head burns deep, but at least the dizziness had subsided somewhat. That was the only thing you had in your favor at the moment. Your aching mind reels over what awaited you. Surely Oz would be upset with you. It was your job to keep guests happy, and your face was damning evidence of your failure. It didn't matter if that guest was a privileged scum-sucking loser too strung-out to form an intelligent thought. He was decidedly unhappy, and now you would have to accept the consequences.

Walking back through where you'd just come from and entering the corridor of the sequestered alcove, you can only pray that Oz is somehow distracted enough with business not to look up. The rattling of the parted bead curtain announces your arrival, and as you step through, it's immediately clear that your prayer fell upon deaf ears.

"There she is," Oz greets with a wide smile, "Come on in, sweetheart."

He waits expectantly on the couch by the window, the murky glow of the club lights shining behind him.

In vain, you keep your chin lowered and your hands clasped firmly behind your back.

"You wanted to see me?" you reply, avoiding his eyes.

"Of course I do. I always want to see you, baby," he answers, waving you forward, "Come here and tell me about your night. How are things goin' downstairs? You holdin' up alright?"

Swallowing hard, you obey and sit down on your hands beside him. You feel your limbs trembling as you search for your words.

"It's good. Busy, busy night," you reply, nodding.

Before he even speaks, you can sense Oz's gaze on you, and just how skeptical it is.

"Good? Just good? So stiff all of a sudden!" he scoffs lightheartedly, "You feelin' okay, baby? You're usually my little chatterbox."

You open your dry mouth to answer, deciding to confess the truth, but he's already reaching to brush your hair behind your ear. The revealed wound speaks for itself, and you flinch as strands of your hair catch on the fresh, open skin.

"Who did this to you?"

The restrained rage in his voice sends a chill down your spine.

"Y/N. Who did this thing to you, sweetheart?" he urges.

He gently grabs your chin and turns your head towards him. Both his touch and his tone are soft, but in his dark eyes there is an unmistakable wrath.

You stare at him in total confusion, unsure if you should feel comforted or in dread. This isn't the reaction you'd expected. Not in your wildest dreams.

"It was...some drophead. Corporate type," you hesitate, composing yourself, "He wanted me to leave with him. I kept telling him no, but he wouldn't lay off. Then he got fresh and I pushed away. That's when I caught the backside of his hand with my face. He was hammered, but it was no accident. His ring's what cut me."

Oz sits back, twitching in agitation. "When was this?"

"About ten minutes ago," you reply, "I'll be alright, Oz. I just need to clean up. It's not a big deal."

"The hell it ain't!" he denies.

His outburst startles you a bit, but you could tell it was not towards you.

A heated moment passes, and his temper calms once more. He leans forward again, touching your arm soothingly.

"You ain't done nothing wrong, baby. I'm gonna take care of this," he assures, "Can you describe him to me? He and I need to have a little talk about manners."

You smirk. "Definitely."

☂︎

A few minutes later, you're standing in the corner of the room with a cold drink in one hand, and a towel pressed to your stinging temple in the other. While Oz sent the Twins downstairs to retrieve your assailant, you'd finally gotten a moment to check your reflection in the mirror and inspect the damage. The gash was deep, but luckily not too wide. You would need stitches, and there'd undoubtedly be a scar for you to remember tonight by, but the doctor could wait. With the bleeding slowing at last, you waited with quiet anticipation to see if the sleaze would get a taste of his own medicine. Meanwhile, Oz stands by the window with his hands in his pockets, looking down in silence at the dancing throngs below.

Your shared reverie is broken by the arrival of the Twins, each dragging the man by one of his arms. Somehow, he seems twice as wasted as before. Now he's barely able to hold his head up.

Oz turns around and looks to you, gesturing. "This the gentleman?" He says the last word with no small amount of disdain.

You nod, biting down hard on your lip.

With that, they unceremoniously toss the guy into the chair in front of the vanity.

"Nice work, fellas," says Oz, giving them a pointed look, "Give us a minute here. Don't go too far."

They nod in confirmation and exit as swiftly as they'd come.

You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with how close the lowlife is to you again. The familiar smell of vodka, drops, and sweat burns your nose. You half have a mind to dump the rest of your own drink out on his head, if only to douse the odor. The other half of you is afraid of what might happen if you do.

As if he'd read your uneasy mind, Oz invites you over to his side of the room. "Come over here, sweetheart. Why don't you have a seat? You should be resting in your condition."

More than happy to oblige, you set what remains of your liquid painkiller down on the crystal table and return to your place on the couch.

"What's going on," the man finally speaks, his words slurring together. Then he sets his intoxicated gaze on you, and his bloodshot eyes narrow in recognition. "You...I know you..."

You frown, folding your arms over your chest in response.

"You don't talk to her. You talk to me," Oz interjects, stepping forward.

"And...you are?" he replies hazily, furrowing his brow with indignance.

"I'm the manager of this club, pal," he answers, taking on a cool tone of superiority, "Now, I don't know you. Based on that suit you got, I'm guessin' your checkbook is bigger than the average drophead's. And maybe outside of these walls, you're some bigshot who can do whatever he likes, to whomever he likes. But in here, you're in my world."

Before Oz finishes speaking, the man's eyelids begin to flutter. It's quickly becoming clear that he's losing the battle for consciousness.

Oz glances over his shoulder at you exasperated.

"Geez, how many friggin' drops has this sack of crap had?" He snaps his fingers in the guy's face. "Hey pal, you mind joining us here back on planet Earth for a moment? I'm tryna teach you something."

The loser rapidly blinks and rouses, violently wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"There you go, that's better," Oz says, stooping to be eyelevel with the guy, "Like I was sayin'. You're in my world. And here, we got rules. They're very simple. So simple, even a miserable little roach like you can understand 'em."

Oz lightly slaps the man's cheek and stands upright once more. He proceeds to remove his suit jacket and lay it on the nearby vanity. Your pulse quickens as he continues his monologue.

"There are some rules you can bend. Hell, there's even a few you can break once or twice and I'll look the other way. But there's one rule that you never, ever break. And that, is where you messed up, pal."

You're frozen in place, your heart full on racing watching Oz roll up his crisp white shirt sleeves.

"I...wait-just, hold on," the slimeball stammers. Every trace of arrogance had vanished, along with all the color in his face. He scrambles in an attempt to right himself, but he's far too inebriated to escape. At last, he was horrifically aware of situation he was in. He raises his now shaking hands in front of him, and you can't help but grin in satisfaction.

"You never hit a lady," Oz seethes, grabbing the guy's coat collar in his fists, "It seems you need a reminder of that. So I'm gonna give you one won't forget."

A yelp escapes the man's chapped lips as Oz hurls a right hook into his jaw. His arms go limp from the impact, and they only flop about from there as Oz lands another punch. You gape at the massive cut sliced into the guy's cheek by Oz's own ring.

"How do you like it, huh? Stings, don't it?"

In his drug-induced stupor, the drophead makes no attempt to fight back. All he can muster is an agonized moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

This only serves to enrage your boss further. Oz grabs the guy's collar again, this time tugging him forward out of the chair. His skull hits the floor with a nauseating crack. The sound, and the convulsing that follows, doesn't deter Oz, however. He hoists the man up with a strength that surprises you and pushes him against the brick wall.

Miraculously, the pathetic soul was still conscious, if just barely. The blood dripping from his mouth deepens the pit in your stomach, but you don't turn away.

Oz shoves the man's head to turn your direction.

"You think you can come in here and do that to one of my girls? Huh? Look at her face. You piece of rat filth!" he shouts, punching him in his ribs, "How dare you touch her. I oughta cut your hand off and feed it to ya!"

He proceeds to lay into him with a ferocity you can scarily believe. Every blow is more brutal than the last, each one punctuated by infuriated curses. Each time the lucid fool slumps forward from the impact, Oz sends him back with another slug to gut or head. It feels like an eternity passes before he finally has his fill of retribution and lets the man fall at his feet.

You peer at the unmoving heap, searching for signs of life, but your focus quickly shifts back Oz. He stands with his back to you, still muttering incensed profanities between heaving breaths.

This was a side of him you'd caught glimpses of, but never fully witnessed. Perhaps not many had. The fury that flowed through him certainly stemmed from more than revenge for tonight's incident. You imagined there was probably a lifetime of buried rage behind every blow struck. The thought of where such intense anger came from, and how much more there might be deep inside him, made you shudder.

For now though, you were just grateful he tapped into it on your behalf. His violent appetite was satisfied, and you had your payback. It'd hardly been a fair fight, and you couldn't care less. As much as your mind told you that should be afraid in this moment, or at the very least unnerved, you weren't. You felt relieved. More than that, you were mesmerized.

Oz whistles for the Twins, and they promptly return. He produces a dark purple handkerchief from his pants pocket and wipes away the blood from his knuckles before acknowledging them.

"Would you fellas be so kind? Our 'guest' needs help finding his sea legs," he invites, slicking his hair back.

It was only an expression, of course. If he didn't succumb to his injuries, you doubted the guy would ever be able to stand again. He wouldn't be backhanding anyone, either. That thought brings a smile to your face.

The identical men hoist the nameless victim up in much the same manner as they'd brought him in. Only this time, with his black and blue face utterly plastered with fresh lacerations, he was nearly unrecognizable. The low gurgling noise emanating from his mouth was the only proof that they weren't propping up a corpse.

"In case I wasn't making myself clear," Oz begins, rolling his sleeves back down, "If you so much as think about coming back in here, I'll carve you up into so many friggin' pieces, only God would be able to find them all."

It sounded like the man tried to vocalize, but it was scarcely more than a whimper.

Oz sneers, "Get this scum outta my sight."

You watch as what's left of your harasser is carried away from view. Just like that, you and Oz are alone once again. As much as you could be anyway, since several of the girls in the dressing area had become aware of the beatdown and were peeping from the other side of the shared window. Surely the whole club would know about what'd just taken place before sunrise. After all, Oz wouldn't do that for just any of the girls here. He didn't even know half of their names; but he knew yours, and he almost beat a man to death to defend it. You shake your head and resolve to ignore the onlookers, trying to come back into your body after the sobering surreal experience.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, baby. But it had to be done," he sighs, putting his jacket back on, "He won't be bothering you no more."

You stand up and walk over to him, "I'm just sorry I couldn't get a punch in."

"Listen to you, little killer over here," he chuckles, "Tell you what. Next time we got a jerk that goes sideways, I'll hold his arms back and you can go nuts on 'em. Deal?"

"Deal," you agree, your playful words turning sincere, "Thank you, Oz. You didn't have to do that for me."

"Yes, I did. Someone disrespects you, they disrespect me too. You bleed, I bleed. I had to make it right," he argues, slightly stern. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. "Here. For the doctor. If you need more, you call me."

You softly gasp at the six hundred-dollar bills he holds out.

"This is too much," you begin.

"No, it ain't. I never shoulda let you go down there in the first place. They're friggin' animals," he says, regret in his voice, "You take all the time you need before you come back, alright? Don't worry about it."

You let him place the money in your hand. Tears start to well up in your eyes as you look to him with gratitude.

"Thank you," you repeat.

He reaches to brush your hair away from your eyes, his bruised knuckles grazing your cheek. "Don't you go startin' with the waterworks now," he smiles, "Scars ain't nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. You'll always be beautiful to me."

Anyone who'd spent just one minute with Oswald Cobb knew that he had a way with words, but something about the glint in his eye made you believe that he truly meant these ones.

You chuckle thoughtfully and straighten his tie. Then, leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek. For a second time that night, you'd taken him by surprise.

Turning to leave, you smirk over your shoulder. "Don't miss me too much."

He grins. "No promises, doll. No promises."

[peachy-scars]

You ever wonder why Warriors just has costumes of the others ?