#just this idea took me by the throat and refused to let go

[pfhwrittes]

look i said something about it in the tags of this post by @391780 but the ONLY way i can see price x laswell being a thing is in any universe is where price and laswell were married before john transitioned.

like john and kate were those married lesbians that made everyone supremely envious of how synchronised they were. neither of them played into the butch-femme thing but if you squinted you could maybe say that kate was the more femme of the two. john would keep his hair short, dress exclusively in masculine clothing, light up at being called “sir” by strangers.

let’s assume they had an active sex life, even if john straight up told kate that he was a stone butch and he didn’t want her to go down on him or fuck him with her clever fingers. it didn’t matter to kate that he didn’t want that, that he would bring himself to orgasm with his own hands after she was left sweaty and panting against the sheets of their shared bed.

but what mattered to kate was when five years into their marriage he sat her down at their kitchen table and told her in his stilted gruff way that he didn’t feel like a woman at all. that he was a man. he was john. it mattered to kate that her heart broke a little because yes, she loved he-him, but she wasn’t straight and didn’t want to be married to man.

through her own lump in her throat she told him that. not quite as bluntly, and with reassurances that she’d support him every step of the way in his transition. she’d move heaven and fucking earth for john just like she vowed on their wedding day.

it’s bittersweet for john. it’s simultaneously the most gut wrenching and gender affirming moment of his life.

but he moves into the spare room. she starts compiling files on reputable surgeons, testosterone hormone therapy, on whether her health insurance or his will cover his transition. they learn to share their home as two separate people, no longer kateandjohn but kate. and john.

kate loves and supports her husband john. she drives him to appointments. she picks him up when he’s discharged after top surgery. she signs endless “change of details” forms on his behalf.

and then three years later, at the same kitchen table where john had told her who he truly was, who he truly needed to be, they sign their divorce papers with minimal fuss and two matching tumblers of his favourite scotch to commiserate celebrate the occasion.

john, for what it is worth, loves and respects his ex-wife. he refuses to entertain any badmouthing. he also shuts down any whispers that he still loves her before they can reach her sharp ears because of course he does, he’ll always love her in a way. he’s thrilled when she tells him that she’s met someone new, that it’s serious. she’s delighted when her new fiancée suggests inviting him to the wedding, even if he does miss it because he’s chasing down a terrorist organisation on her intel, knowing that he’d never decline the invitation but he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to attend.

eventually, they fall into a comfortable routine where john pops over for shared dinners at kate’s and she teases him for surrounding himself with pretty young men in the task force.

so they may not be johnandkate or kateandjohn any more, but they are still kate and john. and heaven help anyone that tries to separate the two of them.

[amomentsescape]

hi hi! I was hoping you could do slashers with a super bubbly and affectionate s/o who would beat up anyone who dares hurt the slasher while still holding their sweet smile

Slashers with Sweet and Dangerous! Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: So I got a bit carried away and wrote this as if Reader is willing to kill for the Slashers. So hopefully it's not too intense for what you were wanting! Feel free to let me know what you think :)

Freddy Krueger

He knew there was a reason he was so drawn to you

You were sweet, kind, and just an overall ray of sunshine that Freddy never knew he needed

He loves basking in your warmth

But seeing you hold that damn grin while ripping out someone's throat for just punching Freddy has him weak in the knees

He loves the affectionate sweet side to you, don't get him wrong

But knowing that you can do a complete 180 makes him feel like he's in his own beautiful type of dream

He feels more comfortable telling you his plans now and the types of ideas he has for killing future victims

And you just sit there all happily and nod along like he's telling you a bedtime story

It's cute but also so foreign to him

He has a hard time remembering that you can be just as deadly as him when you want to be

Michael Myers

He honestly has no idea how to feel about this situation

It took him some time to get used to being with someone so cuddly and happy all the time

He wasn't much of a fan of it at first, but something inside him refused to let you go or kill you

But seeing you smile over his victims and even step in to prevent him from getting injured has him confused

He is more than capable of protecting himself

He doesn't need you getting involved

But at the same time, knowing he isn't the only one with this grotesque side makes him feel.... content, in a way

He just doesn't like you stepping in too much

His victims are his, and he refuses to share

But if you save him from getting stabbed or set on fire

Well... then that's fine he guesses

Jason Voorhees

You two are practically different sides to the same coin

He comes off as deadly, incapable of emotions, and just an overall killing machine

But when he's with you, he's the sweetest and most kind man you have ever met

You're practically the opposite

You come off as an innocent, bubbly goody-two-shoes to most of the public

But when someone dares hurt Jason, a hidden poison emerges from within you

Jason never thought you were capable of picking up his notorious machete, nonetheless swinging it right through someone's skull

He just froze up in shock at this realization

He was drawn to how sweet you were to him, but knowing that you're capable of killing only makes him more happy

He was always worried that you would leave him after dealing with his darkness for too long

But knowing that you aren't all sunshine and rainbows has reassured him

Thomas Hewitt

Considering what his family eats every night for dinner, he would have hoped that you were capable of similar actions to him

Killing is just a way of life to him, so knowing that you can do the same is so normal

That isn't to say that he wasn't surprised the first time you stuck up for him

But if anything, that surprise was immediately followed by a sense of relief

If you can do that, then you can fit right in with the rest of his family!

They liked how affectionate and kind you were to Thomas, but they were always worried that you were going to be too soft for their way of life

Now he knows there's nothing to worry about

Well, maybe except for getting on your bad side

You always have that sweet smile on your face, and he'll be damned if he pisses you off one of these times

Bubba Sawyer

The first time you killed for him, he couldn't help but jump around in glee

You're just like him!

You're covered in blood and guts but still smile sweetly at Bubba

Just like he does for you

It honestly just reinforces the idea that you were meant to be together in his mind

You stick up for him, and he sticks up for you

With that being said, he does still paint you as this sweet little angel that needs to be safe at all times

He doesn't want you to get your hands dirty unless absolutely necessary

So he prefers for you to stay away from all the carnage he goes through on a daily basis

But he won't try and control you

As long as he is met with that soft smile and big hug at the end of a long day, Bubba is content

Brahms Heelshire

Oh...

He's flattered, don't get him wrong

The fact that you're willing to protect him shows that you really are devoted to him

And he loves that

But he also doesn't want you intruding with his desires

That person is going to die?

Brahms wants to be the one to see their last breath

It's not very often he gets to feel like this, so he wants to soak up every exhilarating second of it while it's there

And you're just so pure and kind that he doesn't want you becoming all tainted like him

Your job is to be the good in Brahms and take care of him

Not to let this darkness take over

You provide, he protects

That's all he asks for

Norman Bates

And to think after all of this time, Norman just assumed you were like him

Quiet, sweet, affectionate

He had no idea you'd be capable of fully plunging a knife into someone's neck just for saying a couple mean words to Norman

But he secretly couldn't help the way he admired your blood splattered face, that smile he loved so much shining through it all

He likes feeling protected by you

It lets him know that you really care about him

And the fact that you can flip from one side to the other is so intriguing to him

In every other situation, you speak softly and gently laugh at the smallest things

But when one bad thing happens, the darkness creeps out

It doesn't freak him out as much as he would have originally thought

He just still can't believe that these sides to you are coming from the same person

Who is he to judge though?

Billy Loomis

Billy was immediately attracted to your warm energy

But he was also hesitant that he would somehow contaminate you with his trauma and dark fantasies

He wanted to keep you as were: the bubbly and happy partner that was always by his side

But when a last minute heist was going wrong, he would have never expected to look over and see you all bloody, a stained knife in your hand and a lifeless body on the floor

When he called your name, all you did was look up at him and smile

Billy just about lost it

He had always thought that he needed to be the one to protect you and himself

But seeing you throw yourself into violence for his sake was absolutely beautiful

He didn't think you'd be capable of something like this

But knowing that you are makes him love you that much more

You're nothing but perfect for him

Stu Macher

He won't say it out loud, but he's the tiniest bit scared of you

Not in a bad way by any means

If anything, he thinks it's sexy

And he can see a bit of familiarity in the way you act too

You both enjoy laughing at stupid things and keeping the energy up when needed

At any given moment, you two are all over each other and smiling so wide that you can feel your cheeks burn

You two make the ultimate power couple

But if someone dares say something bad about you, they're dead the next morning

And if Stu gets hurt by one of his attempted victims, you better believe you'll be there to finish the job

Stu honestly loves how deceiving you can be

No one would ever look at you and expect you to have this darker element

But to be fair, he's in the same boat

No one would ever suspect him of such behavior

And that's probably why you two make the perfect team

Vincent Sinclair

He never thought he'd ever meet some who cared for him the way you do

Especially resorting to violence just to keep him safe

This must be some sort of dream

You practically tore this person to shreds and yet, you're still able to turn back at Vincent and smile sweetly, asking if he's okay

Are you even the same person he was just cuddling with 10 minutes ago?

He worries that you'll get yourself hurt one of these times, so he tries to advise you against doing something like that again

But he won't deny the thrill it gave him seeing you act so... differently

Just please don't step in unless absolutely necessary

If anything happened to you, he wouldn't know what to do

He knows you can clearly take care of yourself, he just doesn't want to risk it

Bo Sinclair

What a precious little thing

It would be a lie to say that Bo wasn't immediately drawn to your softness and positivity

You radiated sunshine, and it was a new experience for him

He has always wanted to be the protector in his relationships

And he truly had no clue that you weren't just another damsel looking to be rescued

He remembers the first time you saved his ass

He turned up to see the man with a metal pipe sticking out of his chest

All the while, you're standing behind him, that sweet little smile still on your face like usual

Bo was at a complete loss for words

He loves this side to you

He still likes to feel all bad and tough

And he loves when you ask him for help and play up the innocence

But when something comes up, he knows he doesn't need to worry about you

[pathologicalreid]

could we get Spencer Reid with a hypersexual reader that uses sex as a bad coping mechanism? 💕💕

don't look in the mirror | S.R.

seeking comfort in those you hold close, except there's a right way and a wrong way to do it

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (i think?) w/ mature themes (18+ mdni) content warnings: seeking comfort in sex, avoidance, mental health issues, spencer has those info dumps on lock, shame, self deprecation, reader hates her job (me too), blood as a metaphor, crying word count: 1.85k a/n: this is such an important topic and i'm so thankful for you asking me to write this!!!! i know this is a premise i've seen before, so i tried to make mine different. (im actually really proud of how this one turned out)

“Baby,” Spencer whispered in your ear, turning his head to the side as you left small, slow kisses on the exposed skin of his neck.

You hummed but refused to detach your lips from his soft skin, tugging gently at his shirt so that you could make your way down to his collarbone. He smelled like sunshine and the jet, an admittedly odd combo that did nothing to stop your movements down the column of his throat. His neck vibrated with sound, but none of his words registered, it all went in one ear and out the other.

His hand gently settled on the small of your back and you took a deep breath before you began pulling at the knot of his tie, “Y/N,” he muttered in a warning.

Your head snapped up at his tone, disappointed that you didn’t find the same want in his eyes that you knew was blazing in your own irises. Synapses in your brain were firing at lightning speed, and your heart was beating so quickly that it was like it was trying to keep up. “I missed you,” you whispered to him, allowing your eyes to flitter across his face.

Spencer settled his hands on your hips, firmly grabbing them in exactly the way you wanted, but instead of pulling you closer to him, he stilled their rotation.

Your heart stuttered.

“What happened?” He asked you tentatively, using the pads of his thumbs to rub soothing circles on your hips, trying to keep you from moving while giving you comfort. Despite the way you were sitting in his lap, Spencer still felt worlds away from you – if he was on Earth, you were in a different galaxy. 

Hesitantly, your lips parted, and you took a deep breath before shutting your mouth again, deciding you had nothing to say. While he’d been away, nothing significant had happened, everything in your life had trudged on exactly the way it always did. You went to work at the same job you’ve had since you got out of college with a boss who most certainly had it out for you, and you came home to an empty apartment with your phone volume all the way up, waiting for your boyfriend to call you. You really were pathetic, but you didn’t voice those concerns, instead, you answered, “Nothing happened,” the half-truth easily slid from your mouth. “Can’t I just have missed my boyfriend and want to spend quality time with him?”

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head back as his hair moved with him, “Stop, Y/N,” he said.

Without even realizing it, your hands had drifted down to his chest, and your hands were absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, “I didn’t…” you started to say, but your words faltered when you noticed the way he was looking at you. You looked over your shoulder, making sure that the rest of the world was still there as you tried to climb off of Spencer’s lap. “Let me go,” you insisted, hating how small your voice sounded as you pushed against him to no avail.

“I can’t let you go, not right now,” he told you, steadying his resolve as he watched you. You were staring at your hands like they were covered in blood, red-covered palms as you watched, horrified at the idea of them developing a mind of their own. It wasn’t as if your hands had suddenly become sentient entities, your heart and your brain were working against each other, fighting a silent, internal war. “Pick a spot for your hands, and just leave them there,” he whispered to you.

Your hands tremored as you settled them on either one of Spencer’s shoulders, “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” you mumbled, struggling to find the strength to enunciate your thoughts.

Spencer sighed, “Why don’t we take a minute, okay?” Delicately, he moved one hand from its station on your hip and moved it to cup your cheek, holding your face as if it were made of fine china. “What happened while I was gone, honey?”

His hand was wet on your face, or rather, your face was wet from tears that had started to trickle from your tear ducts. You furrowed your brows in frustration, “Why do you assume that something happened? Nothing happened while you were gone, why can’t you just let that be the answer?”

“Because it’s not the answer,” he insisted, dropping his hand back to your hip, continuing to stop you from getting up and moving away from him.

You scoffed, “Is it not the answer, or is it just not the answer you’re looking for, Spencer?”

“It’s not the answer, and I’m looking for the answer. You can tell me anything,” he urged, resuming his soothing movements over your hip.

As you watched his expression morph into a slight panic, you realized he was beginning to think something happened to you. With what he did for work, it was always in the back of his mind, you being in danger of being hurt by other people but what he rarely considered was the idea of you being a danger to yourself. “Nothing happened, okay? Absolutely nothing happened to me while you were gone and everything in the world stayed exactly the fucking same. I went to work every day and I came home and sat around while I waited for you to call, I waited for you to come home and now you won’t even touch me.”

Your tears kept coming, leaving saline stains on his gray shirt as your head spun and his movements stopped. “Work was bad?” He asked softly, using his fingertips to wipe beneath your eyes. He knew about your issues at work, he had been encouraging you to leave the job for months, but you were convinced that a promotion was coming. “You shouldn't have to be miserable every time you go to work.”

“Not everyone gets to be hand-picked for a top job at twenty-one. Some people have to work shitty jobs to make ends meet,” you snapped at him, nostrils flaring angrily.

He didn’t answer right away, you became hyperaware of the pounding of your heart as you waited for his response. As you waited for him to kick you out. “I told you that I’d support you if you wanted to go back to school. I meant it, Y/N,” he told you, brown eyes flooded with concern. “You can leave your job and pursue your dream, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, baby.” Spencer leaned back against the couch cushions, “I can’t help you until you help yourself, love.”

Slouching your shoulders, you felt your eyes starting to line with tears again, “It feels so unfair to have you shoulder more responsibility so that I can go back to school.”

“No,” he said, “What’s not fair is you lying to me and then trying to avoid it with sex. I asked you how your week had been, and you either didn’t care to answer me or you have such bad tunnel vision that you didn’t even hear me.” He gently chided, giving you time to drown in the blatant concern in his eyes, “and what’s worse is you never told me it was this bad.”

You averted your eyes, focusing your gaze on the chessboard behind him as you thought about your next move. In one fell swoop, he could checkmate you, completely catch you off guard, and tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear. Alternatively, you could sacrifice yourself for his benefit, “I hate my job. My boss is making it impossible for me to make any positive stride, and that’s on top of him being a misogynistic douche.” You flexed your hands where they remained on Spencer’s shoulders and sighed, “And yes, I miss you when you’re gone. Yes, I lied to you about it, but what would you do about it? Leave your big important job because your girlfriend is lonely?”

He craned his head to the side, silently encouraging you to make eye contact with him, “I’d hope that you’d feel comfortable enough to tell me how you’re feeling so that we could work something out – we can talk through this. It’s a two-way street though, you have to talk to me. I can make an effort to call and text more if you promise me, you’ll make an effort to communicate with me.”

Slowly, you started to nod, “I… I can do that, but you hate texting,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows curiously.

“I’ll get over it,” he reassured you, studying your features, “You’re worth it,” he added.

Finally, you pulled your arms back, hugging them around yourself protectively, “I’m sorry,” you murmured, “I don’t know why I am… the way that I am.”

Spencer took a deep breath before giving you a look that told you he had an inkling, “You’re unhappy, with me or the world, it doesn’t matter, but you think the solution to your displeasure comes in the form of an orgasm and that’s just not the answer, honey.”

You hiccupped and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself like you could make yourself smaller, “I still don’t know why though.”

“You’re seeking the rush, not necessarily the act of sex itself, you want the dopamine and oxytocin rush that comes with an orgasm. Your brain convinces yourself that it’s what you need because when you get unhappy like this, all you can focus on is how to feel better and fast,” he spoke to you gently – he knew this wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to hear. “It’s brief, and it’s just for that moment, and your brain might even recall how your parasympathetic nervous system shuts down after you come, and your body gets tired. You get a rush of serotonin, and you relax enough to convince yourself that it'll be okay, but you need to find something more permanent. I’ll help you.”

Your arms fell limply at your sides, “Do you think I’m broken?”

The small smile he gave you was enough of an answer, “No, in fact, I know you’re not broken.” Tenderly, he reached out and unwound your arms from around your torso, “And since I know you won’t stop thinking about it, I do still find you attractive.” Spencer studied your face, “Where do you want to start?”

“Do you want to help me draft a letter of resignation?” You offered, giving Spencer a shy smile.

He hummed in response, “Yeah, in a bit.” Your boyfriend reached his hands out to you, now being the one who pulled you close, “Come here, darling.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing as he wrapped his arms around your torso, “I missed you,” you mumbled, entirely deflating your lungs as you let yourself relax.

Spencer reached up, ruffling your hair with one hand and keeping another on the small of your back as he sighed with you, “I missed you too.”

[fastandcarlos]

The Never Ending Night : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as your best friend arthur's party comes to an end, you're left with his brother charles together, wondering what could be

Your smile was soft as you bid goodnight to Arthur, watching him walk back into the family home. It was the home of the LeClercs, but as your childhood friend headed up the stairs, it was just as good your home too. 

Which was why as you glanced across at Charles beside you, you felt no urgency to excuse yourself either.  

You’d spent years around Arthur and his entire family, been treated as if you were a part of it, invited in without second thought during some of your most difficult times. 

Charles especially was the sibling you found yourself pulled towards the most. When Arthur wasn’t around, he always stepped up for you and offered to help you out whenever you needed someone. Although you were closest with Arthur, Charles was a pretty close second. 

It didn’t bother him at all that you were still sat as he took a sip of the beer in his hand. He was used to spending time with you, even as the last two standing at the party, Charles knew you could carry on together all night long. 

Both of you were undeniably a little bit tipsy, your words not coming quite as easily as they usually did. Before you knew it you were sat on the two-seater sofa that Charles had commandeered, his arm draped across your shoulders as you both sat overlooking the large garden of the LeClerc family. 

The longer you were with Charles, the more comfortable you got. Your body slowly relaxed into his side, feeling his head rest on the top of your own. Charles’ hand rested on your bicep, his fingers catching onto the goosebumps that were on your arm as a result of the chilly air. 

You could feel his eyes staring down at you the longer that time passed. Fear got the better of you, holding you back from looking back to Charles. 

The more you settled, the more Charles’ confidence grew. His lips soon pressed against the top of your head, arm tightening to pull you even closer to his side. 

It was at this moment you glanced up, a lump running down your throat as your eyes met Charles’. Before you could look away, Charles leant down and pressed his lips to your own, hand moving to cup the side of his face. 

The kiss was softer than you ever could have ever imagined, it wasn’t the intense affair you imagined it would be, instead it was full of love, emotion, far from what you expected from Charles.  

As you pulled away, neither of you quite knew what to say. You both were aware you had overstepped the threshold; your many years of friendship had a new label attached, but neither of you quite knew what that label was. 

Whatever it was, it felt right. For both of you. Neither of you could disguise the smiles that were on your faces, your eyes drawn to each other’s and unable to look away. 

“What do we do?” Charles whispered to you, breaking the silence, brushing the pad of his thumb across your cheek delicately. 

Your shoulders shrugged, if you were truthful, you had no idea. Just a few metres away you knew Arthur was nearby, unaware of the events unfolding outside, the events taking place between two of the most significant people in his life. 

“I can’t stay here all night,” you whispered, momentarily glancing down at your watch realising just how late it was. Charles’ smile dropped as you spoke, taking a look at his own watch too. 

“Why not? You’ve stayed here a thousand times before,” he reminded you, refusing to let go of the hold that he had on you. “I’m sure there’s somewhere in the house you could sleep.” 

“I know exactly where you’d want me to stay,” you chuckled, knowing Charles all too well. His head nodded, how could he not with the adrenaline of your kiss soaring through his body.  

Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to straighten your thoughts. Unlike you, Charles knew exactly what he wanted though. “Please, just stay. We don’t have to talk, or figure things out, all we have to do is just sleep.” 

“I don’t know Charles,” you whispered, struggling to make up your mind, jumping left and right as you toyed with the idea of staying and the idea of running away and blocking out what had just happened. 

“I’ve always liked you,” he admitted, laying his heart out on the line for you. “If it helps, I’m serious about whatever this is Y/N, this isn’t some game to me, I’m not looking to mess with you or hurt you.” 

“I don’t know,” you whispered, only to be cut off by the feeling of Charles kissing your lips again.  

Charles was expecting you to push away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Despite how much you want to ignore Charles, he was an irresistible force pulling you back in. 

“Stay the night,” Charles asked you as he pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours, “there’s no harm in that, right?” 

As your head shook, Charles intertwined his hand in with yours, standing himself from the sofa and guiding you to do the same. 

Your footsteps were slow as you followed behind Charles, allowing him to lead you through the house and up to the room that he still called your own. The two of you were silent, aware of people on either side of the house, waiting until you got into Charles’ room to make any sort of noise. 

Charles’ arms wrapped around your waist as soon as the door shut, showing you the way to where his bed was. He laid you down before dropping down beside you, his hand in yours, but distance between you both. He didn’t want to rush anything, showing you what he promised you, following your lead. 

What Charles showed you was everything you needed if your mind wasn’t already made up, deciding to roll across and rest your head against his arm, draping your arm across his stomach. 

“I’m not going to regret this, am I? We’re not messing up, right?” You asked Charles. 

“I’d never let us mess up,” Charles assured you, resting the side of his head against your own. “I want you here, not just because you’re Arthur’s friend, but because I really care about you too.” 

Your head nodded taking in everything that Charles had to say to you. You weren’t sure whether this was a long thing, a short thing, or a just for tonight thing, but whatever was happening between you and Charles felt like the right thing to do, whatever it was going to be. 

Neither of you had the answer right now, but you knew that you had many questions that needed answering over the days that came. 

“Thank you for staying,” Charles whispered as he came face to face with you, noticing how nervous you looked. 

“You make it pretty hard to say no,” you laughed, “that stupid LeClerc charm.” 

Charles scoffed at your response, kissing against the tip of his nose. Arthur had pulled you in many years ago, and now Charles had you where he’d wanted you for so long. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Charles offered, glancing out at the night sky through his open window. 

Your head shook, much to his surprise. “Do you mind if we just lay here? I don’t think I want this night to end yet.” 

Charles hummed, happy to stay up with you for as long as you wanted him, holding onto the feeling of having you there with him. 

“I’ll stay here all night long with you.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[goldenhypen]

. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ ｡

syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.

pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink

a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>

“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”

it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.

“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.

“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.

he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.

“better?” he smirked.

“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”

the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”

“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.

“you know why?”

“hm?”

he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”

“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”

“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.

you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”

“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.

you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.

the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.

“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.

you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.

you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.

“jake…”

he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”

“if you’re sick—”

“i’m alright. don’t worry.”

sceptical, you nodded.

later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”

you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”

“it’s so cold.”

“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”

he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”

you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”

you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”

he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”

you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”

you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”

⎯ ❤︎ ⎯

“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”

“thanks, love.”

you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.

after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.

“i love being sick,” he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.

“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.

“i like being sick.”

“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.

“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.

“i—” was all you managed to push out, speechless.

“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”

you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”

“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.

“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”

he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.

“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.

you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”

you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”

a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33

m.list · taglist

taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @sunjakes @w3bqrl @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @aeriil11 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @atrirose @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg

[chaussetteblanche]

AHH i lived ur luke one do u think u can do another maybe like an enemies to lovers trope (sorry im a sucker for enemies to lovers)☺️

hi babe !! thanks for requesting ! don't apologise we're all on our knees and begging for enemies to lovers <3

I hate you

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : you and luke have been mortal enemies for months, will things change because of a quest? word count: 2.3k warnings : swear words, description of a wound

Luke had hated you since your first day at camp. To this day, you had no idea why. But after months of letting snark comments and aggressive capture the flags slide, you’d decided you had had enough. That had been the moment you'd officially become enemies. 

When he'd jeer at you, you'd bite back with even more venom. If you made him drop his sword at capture the flag, he’d come after you with his bare hands. When one hit, the other hit back harder. It was constant war. 

The rest of camp never understood this hatred you both harboured for one another. Singularly, you were both kind, generous and intelligent people. The kind of people you’d expect to get along fine and even become good friends. But no, it was always one thing after the next. 

So imagine your horror when a relatively new camper was chosen for a quest and found nothing better to do than pick you and your mortal enemy to accompany him. It was your worst nightmare come true. You froze when both your names resounded in the agora. 

You choked, coughed and held back from spluttering, refusing to embarrass yourself. You smoothed down your camp shirt and nodded. You did not look at Luke, even though you could feel his heated glower on your skin. He would probably find a way to blame you for this. Chiron looked between you and Luke with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. You could almost hear what he was thinking. Nonetheless, he abided. 

Walking back to your cabin to prepare your things, you could hear the word actively spreading behind you.  "Did you hear that-" "Yeah, he’s chosen Luke and-" "They’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other." Rolling your eyes, you shut yourself in your cabin and leaned back on the closed door. You dug the heels of your hands into your eyes, groaning. This was going to be nightmare.

And it really was. By hour 12 of the quest, you’d managed to get yourself thrown out of a train, fought off two harpies and had lost Luke.  "Where the hell did he go?" you asked loudly as you and Alan, the young camper, walked in direction of your next task. "He couldn’t have just disappeared!" "I don’t know, maybe he’ll join us later on." Alan shrugged. You frowned.  "Do you know anything about this?" You slowly turned to to him and he took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no, I-" "I’d suggest you think twice before lying to me, Alan," you growled. Alan sighed. "Yes, he told me he wanted to see how badly you did on your own so he could report it to camp." "Right." Of course. Of course he would find a way to make the dangerous quest even harder than it needed to be. You inhaled deeply, trying to remind yourself not to take your anger out on this thirteen year-old child. Your blood boiling, you turned back around and continued to walk. If Luke wanted to stay behind, that was fine with you. Better that than have him be in your way. 

"Oi!" Called a voice about an hour later. Ugh, Luke. You ignored him, keeping a steady pace. He called your name again. You didn’t react until his hand came down on your shoulder.  Before he could say another word, you spun around and pushed him up against the nearest tree, your forearm pressing down on the column of his throat. "Who the fuck do you think you are," you snarled, close to his face, "to leave Alan and I alone? The quest comes before everything! It comes before your hatred for me and your stupid pettiness! So pull yourself together and stop fucking around! » You shoved yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. He looked at you darkly before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. "Yell at me again, princess, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream," he warned in a low voice. You scoffed, ripping your wrist out of his grip.  "Shut up and start walking, Castellan."

The quest went smoothly -as smoothly as it could go considering the tension between Luke and you- after that. You found that the three of you made a pretty good team. Everything was going fine and you had been on your way back to camp when you crossed a griffin. You pushed Alan behind you immediately, taking out your sword at the same time Luke did. "Distract him, I'll go around the side!" Luke ordered, running off. Despite not wanting to follow his orders, you set your jaw and instructed Alan to hide. You twisted your ring, a gift from your mother which turned into a shield when twisted the right way, and waited for the shield to form before banging your sword against it.

"Over here, you stinking pile of feathers! Or should I say fur?" You yelled as you ran backwards, away from Alan. You continued banging your sword against your shield and watched as Luke charged forward from the griffin's unguarded side. The beast shrieked as it was struck and batted Luke away with its large wing. Luke flew to the side with an 'oomph' sound. Despite your despise for him, you felt surprisingly concerned.

You darted forward as the griffin raised one of its clawed feet, ready to strike down Luke, who was slowly getting to his feet. The loud clang of claws meeting the metal of your shield made him look up quickly. You were straining underneath the power of the monster, pushing back against your shield with all of your strength. "Fucking. Move." You managed to speak through clenched teeth. Luke finally snapped out of his daze and bolted to the side. You readied yourself before jumping to the side, out of the griffin's reach -or so you thought. He swapped at you with his other clawed foot and despite you trying to run out of the way, managed to cut a gash in your side. You cried out. You heard Luke and Alan scream your name, but they felt far away.

You spun around, livid, and cut off the beast's hand as it came down towards you once more. Luke took his chance and stabbed the monster in the chest. The three of you watched as the creature turned to dust. You fell to your knees. Luke was next to you in a second, breathing heavily. He laid you down in the grass, muttering to himself. "Show me," he ordered, lifting your shirt up to reveal your stomach. You squirmed both from the strange feeling of having his eyes on your revealed body and from the stinging pain of the cut. "Gods- how bad it is?" you asked. The sound of Alan vomiting was indication enough. Luke bit his bottom lip, brows furrowed. "It's fixable. You just need ambrosia and a healer." "Really?" You hated the way your voice sounded so weak. Luke nodded strongly. "Trust me." And for some reason, you found that you did. He stood up and sheathed his sword before gesturing for Alan to take your bag.

"Can you walk?" he asked, though it sounded like more of a formality than a real question. You lifted yourself up on your elbows and groaned in pain. You shook your head, hating the fact that you had to rely on him of all people for help. "Okay, then." Luke bent forward, going to pick you up. "Wait." He stopped immediately. His eyes snapped up to your face, which had gone frighteningly white. You were staring at the gash across your stomach. It went from the top of ribs to the side of your belly button. And it did not look good. The cut was jagged and blood poured out all over your clothes. Luke watched, helpless, as your fingers reached out to touch the cut. You hissed in pain before looking up into his eyes.

"I'm going to die." Your voice shook dangerously. He hated the way your eyes watered and the way you looked so scared. He'd never seen you look that way before and he wanted to wipe the sight from his memory. You did not have a face that was meant to look frightened. You had a face which was meant for pride and victory. "Look at me." He grabbed your chin and kneeled next to you. "You are not going to die." He pulled a spare T-shirt out of his bag, balled it up and pressed down on your wound with it. "I know, it hurts," he cooed as you whimpered with pain. "Hold it here."

Ignoring your groans of pain, he pulled you into his arms and stood up. Your vision was becoming blurry, but you did all you could to keep pressing down on your wound with his T-shirt. You heard him bark out orders to Alan in the distance. "Luke," you spoke softly as black dots danced in your vision. "No, no, no, don't close your eyes, princess. Keep looking at me." "I don't wanna die," you whispered before passing out. Luke clenched his jaw as he sped up the pace, ordering Alan to keep up with him. "Idiot. You're not gonna die. I won't let you."

You awoke to a soft yellow light surrounding you. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked around to find yourself in the camp infirmary. Luke was on a chair beside your bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Hey." "Hi," you croaked, trying to sit up. Wobbly, you managed to sit somewhat straight against the pillows. "How're you feeling?" Luke asked, looking over your face. He was relieved it to find it less white that it had been two days before. "Like shit, really." You let out a hoarse chuckle. He laughed shortly, looking down at his hands. You were surprised to find it was a really nice sound. That had been the first time you'd ever heard him laugh, and it felt really good to be the cause of it. "How long have I been out?" "Two days and a half." You were quiet for a moment as you thought back to the last things you remembered. "I guess I should thank you for saving my life, Castellan."

Luke let out something close to a scoff and leaned back in his chair. "You saved mine first. Thank you." "Well, yeah." You coughed. "I couldn't just let you die like-" "I don't hate you, you know," he interrupted you. You stopped talking. "Not really."

"What do you mean you don't hate me? Of course you do. You can't stand me. You think everything I do is stupid and bound to failure." "No, I- I don't hate you. I'm envious of you. Of what you have." "Of what I have? I have a fucking hole in my stomach right now, Caste-" "Of your mom. Mostly."

Your lips made an 'O' shape as you understood. Suddenly, everything made sense. That was why he'd disliked you from the start. You had the one thing he never would. Your mother was a minor goddess and did not have many children. This permitted her to be frequently in contact with you and therefore play the role of a present mother. Your father always kept in touch with you. You knew that with each of them you would always have someone to turn to. Unlike Luke.

"Mostly?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "I'm envious of how whenever you walk into a room, it immediately lights up. Of how everyone likes you. Of how you always look good, even if you've just been torn to pieces by a griffin. Of how you always seem to see the good in people, except for me, I guess. Of how you get along with everyone except for me." Luke didn't meet your eye as he spoke. "Maybe if you hadn't been such an ass when we first met, we'd have gotten along fine. And I do see the good in you, I just like to ignore it for my own benefit." Luke's eyes shot up to yours.

"What do you mean 'your own benefit'?" "Well, if I didn't ignore the way you're so kind to the new kids, the way you're so protective of your friends and Annabeth, the way you stand up for what you think is right, the way your eyes look when they catch the light just right and the way your laugh seems to draw everybody in, then maybe... Maybe I wouldn't dislike you at all. Quite the contrary, actually." You could feel your heart hammering inside your chest as you spoke. The way Luke was staring into your soul was not helping either.

"Say something, Luke," you pleaded. His first name felt soft and foreign on your tongue. You had never said it before.

Luke did not answer. Wordlessly, he stood up and was by your side in two steps. He cupped your cheek, leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. Your heart raced and when he pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and smiled before kissing you properly. Eruptions exploded in your stomach as you kissed him back. You pulled him closer by the shirt as his warm lips pressed against yours. Finally, you couldn't help but think. All those feelings you'd ignored and pushed to the back of your mind finally broke free and you almost cried from relief.

His free hand found the back of your neck and you shivered as his fingers caressed the skin there. You leaned into his touch and cupped his jaw before slowly sliding a hand into his hair. He let out a soft moan but before you could get too into it, a cough resounded throughout the room.

"I'm glad to see that you and Luke have managed to work through your differences, Y/N." Chiron spoke, amusement dripping from his words, as he trudged into the room. "Now tell me about your quest."

[littlelamy]

Mr. & Mrs. Cameron; assassin!rafe x assassin!reader

a/n: i rewatched Mr. & Mrs. Smith and became inspired by Angelina and Brad’s characters! hope you guys like it🤍

you stand just outside the door, sunglasses low on your nose as you scan the horizon. the sun is starting to dip below the ocean, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange. rafe is leaning against the sleek black car parked out front, looking like trouble in the best way possible. his shirt is untucked, and he’s fiddling with the keys in his hand, but his sharp blue eyes are locked on you the second you step out of the car.

“you took your sweet time,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, the edge of a smirk playing on his lips.

you stroll up to him, taking your time, letting your heels click against the driveway with deliberate slowness. "miss me that much?" you tilt your head, eyeing him up and down. his hair is a little messy, and you catch a whiff of his cologne as you step closer. intoxicating. the same cologne he wore the last time you were in a tight situation together.

rafe chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “you wish, sweetheart.” his gaze flickers over you, scanning you head to toe. “how was your little ‘recon mission’?” he asks, his tone casual, but there’s an edge beneath it.

“got what we needed,” you say coolly, pulling a silver USB drive from your jacket and tossing it to him. he catches it with one hand, eyes not leaving yours. “turns out, our target is a lot more predictable than you thought.”

he cocks a brow. "predictable, huh? that’s not what your little escape made it seem like." he twirls the USB between his fingers before sliding it into his pocket. "seems like you had some trouble back there."

“trouble?” you laugh, a low sound that dances on the edge of a challenge. “please, rafe. i handled it. alone. just like always.”

he steps closer, his body brushing against yours, the heat between you undeniable. "is that right?" he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave. "because from where i’m standing, it looks like i had to clean up your mess."

your eyes narrow, but you keep the banter going, not backing down. "your idea of cleaning up is sitting in a poker game while i’m out there doing all the work," you shoot back, poking a finger into his chest.

rafe grabs your wrist, but his touch is more playful than forceful. he grins, pulling you even closer, so close you can feel his breath on your neck. "admit it," he whispers, his lips dangerously close to your ear, "you like it when i watch your back."

your heart skips a beat, but you refuse to give him the upper hand. instead, you smile sweetly, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. "like it?" you purr, leaning in just enough that your lips graze his jaw. "or tolerate it?"

his jaw clenches, and for a split second, you see his calm exterior crack. but rafe’s too good at this game to let you win so easily. "tolerate?" he echoes, his voice deepening, eyes narrowing. “you sure about that? because the way you’re pressed up against me right now… doesn’t look like you’re just tolerating anything."

you can’t help the rush of adrenaline as the tension between you thickens, the game you both play always riding that fine line between control and surrender. you push back, your hands sliding down to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. "careful, cameron," you whisper, your lips brushing his collarbone, "you might start thinking i’m the one who’s calling the shots around here."

rafe's smirk returns, and he grips your waist, pinning you back against the car. "oh, sweetheart," he says, his voice a delicious growl, "you don’t have to pretend with me. we both know you like it better when i’m the one in control."

the breath catches in your throat, but you force yourself to stay calm, to play it cool. “control?” you echo, tilting your head back to look him dead in the eyes. "we both know you only think you have control."

his grin widens, and he leans in so close your noses almost touch, his lips barely a hair's breadth from yours. "you’ve got a real mouth on you," he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your lower lip, "but i wonder how long it’ll take before you stop talking and start begging."

your pulse quickens, heat pooling in your chest, but you don’t let him see you falter. instead, you push him back, laughing softly. "you wish." the tension simmers between you, your bodies so close, yet you keep him guessing, as always.

“keep pretending you’re not thinking about it,” rafe says, his eyes dark with a teasing gleam. he reaches for the door behind you, pulling it open. "but when you’re ready to stop playing games, you know where to find me." with that, he turns and walks into the house, leaving you standing there, the electricity of the moment still buzzing through your veins.

you stand frozen for a moment, your heart hammering, the thrill of the game lingering in the air. this back-and-forth with rafe—it’s like a dance, one you’ve perfected over time, both of you pushing, teasing, neither willing to back down.

with a deep breath, you finally step inside. the house is dimly lit, the golden light from the setting sun streaming through the windows. you hear rafe moving in the kitchen, the sound of glasses clinking together.

you slip off your jacket, throwing it over the back of a chair as you saunter toward him, determined not to let him get the last word. "you really think you’re that irresistible, huh?" you ask, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed as you watch him pour two glasses of whiskey.

rafe glances up at you, that cocky smirk never fading. "i don’t think," he says, handing you a glass, "i know."

you take the drink, raising an eyebrow as you swirl the amber liquid in your glass. “oh? that confidence might just get you in trouble.”

he steps closer again, this time slower, more deliberate. "i don’t mind a little trouble," he says softly, his voice wrapping around you like a challenge. "but let’s be honest. you’re the one who’s gonna be in trouble if you keep pushing me."

you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you don’t break eye contact, not for a second. "that so?" you ask, taking a slow sip of your drink.

rafe nods, stepping so close his chest brushes against yours, his hand reaching out to rest on your hip. "oh, yeah," he whispers, his lips ghosting over the side of your neck. "you’ve been asking for it all day."

your breath hitches, but you manage to keep your voice steady. "asking for what exactly?"

he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. “to see what happens when you stop playing hard to get.”

your pulse races, and for a moment, you almost lose yourself in the heat of his gaze, in the electric tension between you. but you’re not ready to let him win, not yet.

instead, you slide your free hand up his chest, your nails grazing the skin beneath his collar. "maybe i’ll stop playing," you whisper, your lips hovering over his, "when you give me a reason to."

rafe lets out a low, dangerous chuckle, his hand tightening on your waist as he pulls you even closer. "oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours, "i’ll give you plenty of reasons."

and before you can respond, his lips crash into yours, the tension snapping like a taut wire between you. it’s a kiss full of heat, full of everything you’ve been dancing around all day, and as his hands tangle in your hair, you know the game has only just begun.

taglist (comment below if you want to be added): @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyy,love your headcanon stuff! Especially the Batboys things

Wondering if you could do a few headcanons with the Batboys where the reader gets injured from a sport,work or something like that and they hide it from the Batboys?

It's all good if you can't or already have written something similar to this :)

Dick

Thought everything was okay until he started to notice how you’d carefully and meticulously planned out how you should move your body, which almost made you look robotic in the process.

That was when he knew something was wrong when you refused to let him hold your afflicted side, strict that you weren’t in the mood for it, but it was obvious to dick that wasn’t the case.

He’d even notice your breath hitched in your throat when you moved a certain way too fast, pulling on your injured side in a way that caused you to stop and try to breathe through the pain that was coursing through your body before continuing on with your day as though nothing had happened.

‘Are you okay sweetheart?’ He’d ask softly as you held your side instinctively when you caught it on the edge of the counter, it was a brief bump but it was enough to have you fighting back tears from streaming down your face.

‘No.’ You’d whimper, ‘I’m not. I’m hurt dickie bird.’

With that dick immediately gets you to bed and assess the situation with your side, only to see a particularly nasty looking bruise blossoming across your side in hues of purple, yellow and more. ‘Oh why didn’t you say anything sooner?’ He says as he gingerly held a pack of ice against your bruises, holding your hand with the other as you squeezed it the moment the ice pack made content with your tender side.

‘I didn’t want you to worry about me and my stupid bruises.’ You admitted and dick couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

‘I’ll always a worry about you sweetheart, no matter what I’ll always worry. So let me take care of you now.’ Dick told you as he then dedicated the rest of his spare time to making sure to ice your bruises while smothering you in kisses and words of affirmation into your skin to take your mind off of the ache in your side.

Damian

He just knows you’re hurt and it’s best not to act like you’re not because it’s not fooling him in the slightest.

Even if you tired to pass it off as something that’ll go away eventually, Damian would see through such an excuse with ease.

‘If that’s the case then why are you still struggling to pick up a kettle when making yourself a drink?’ He would ask and suddenly your mouth became dry and a mind blank of ideas on how to answer that.

Your silence was enough of an answer for Damian to know that you were full of shit and were only making things worse for yourself out of sheer stubbornness to not admit to him that you were hurt.

So Damian took it upon himself to make sure that your hand was properly bandaged, while telling you that you were not allowed to do anything that could cause you more discomfort or make things worse for yourself.

However he would personally over see your healing process himself when he wasn’t on missions, making sure that you were taking your medication, drinking enough fluids and eating enough food while doing the harder tasks for you without a single word uttered past his lips.

Damian was serious about your healing and didn’t want to see you further descend into pain if he could help it while with a look of perpetual annoyance upon his face.

‘If it bothered you so much to look after me then don’t bother-‘

‘No.’

‘No?’ You asked.

‘I don’t trust you to not hurt yourself even more, so let me do it until you can actually lift a kettle again.’ He said and you couldn’t help but smile at his way of saying that he didn’t want you to further hurt yourself out of fear, even if he did possess a unique way of saying it, but you wouldn’t have Damian any other way.

Jason

Had a suspicion that you were injured the moment you didn’t allow yourself to fully utilise your foot without groaning, grabbing on the nearest surface to steady yourself before trying to act like nothing ever happened.

Once Jason had enough of you pretending you were okay, when you clearly weren’t, He doesn’t hesitate to carry you off to your room with little struggle and put you down on your bed.

‘Jason what the-‘

‘You’re hurt and you didn’t think to tell me?’ Jason asked, a little hurt that you didn’t seemly guest him enough to admit to them you were injured, which only made him wonder about all the other times you had been hurt but didn’t say anything to him and instead suffered in silence until you were passed off as fine.

‘I didn’t want to worry you!’ You replied, seeing the hurt in his eyes and immediately feeling bad about your decision because you knew Jason valued honesty and respect in your relationship, and so you could only imagine what was going through his mind upon finding out that you were hiding something from him after having told him everything in your relationship thus far.

‘Of course I’m going to be worried when you’re hurt, you’re hurt and I don’t know how!’ Jason exclaimed but his hands remained gently when elevating your foot on the closest pillow he could find within reach. He then placed a soft, featherlight kiss to your ankle, leaving a pleasant tingle there as he looks at you tiredly. ‘I just want you to come home safe and not in bits, I just want to protect you and keep you happy.’

‘You already do that enough as it is jay birdie!’ You cried as you grabbed his hand and held it close to your chest, thumb rubbing at the pulse point on his wrist soothingly, while kissing each and every one of his fingers. ‘Besides I just tripped up on something when on my daily jog and it sprained my ankle, nothing more, nothing less.’ You explained to him as you pleased with your eyes for him to believe that you were telling the truth.

Jason, being the massive softy that he was towards you, sighed and squeezed your hand. ‘Okay chipmunk but I best not see you walking on your ankle until you’re better.’ He said sternly and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘As long as my jay birdie is the one taking care of me, then I’ll never step a toe out of this bed, it’s too comfy.’ You said and Jason visibly relaxed as he kissed your forehead. ‘That’s a shame, I like the aspect of having to carry you back to bed, I didn’t get my morning kiss before you left for your daily jog after all.’ He whispered against your skin.

You and Jason use your sprained ankle as an excuse just to cuddle and spend time together to make up for lost time between the two of you.

Bruce

Another one who’s sharp eyes immediately knows that your hiding your hurt from him.

The biggest give away was the fact that you didn’t put much weight on your afflicted foot and instead poorly attempted to hide your hobbling and facial expressions of intense discomfort you’re putting yourself through just to leave him unsuspecting.

You failed on all grounds when dating/married to a detective/vigilante.

Bruce knows you’re not okay and he’s not going to allow you to make things worse for yourself either, as soon enough he has Alfred help him set up a comfortable space for you to properly rest for the foreseeable future, making sure you had everything you could possibly need and more to make your healing journey more durable.

Even if you tried to deflect any and all notation that you were hurt. Bruce would look at you unimpressed because you were talking to someone who had once tried to fuck up thugs with a couple broken rips, fractured bones and more, only to be stopped by Alfred who walked him back to the manor like a disappointed and overtired father.

Bruce now understood what Alfred felt when he practically had to carry you to your shared room where you were to remain bed bound, not until Alfred said you were cleared to walk the manor without flaring up your injury.

‘This isn’t fair! It’s just a sprain!’ You cried as Bruce made sure that your pillows were fluffed and that your comforting blankets were even fluffier.

‘A sprain that could’ve worsened with how you treated it.’ Bruce replied as he put aside the ibuprofen gel and paracetamol tablets on the nightstand along with a glass of water before gently but quickly elevating your bandaged foot with a pillow.

‘Still i could’ve handled it myself.’ You muttered under your breath.

‘If by better you mean make it worse and prolonging the healing process, then yes I’d say you had it handled well.’ Bruce said sarcastically that you couldn’t help but notice the irony in the statement.

‘You’re just as worse!’ You pointed out, ‘how many times has Alfred has to stop you from going out at night while severely hurt?’

‘Too many to count.’ Bruce said under his breath but he only smiled at you and kissed your forehead before getting up from the bed and moved to the door of your shared room, but just as he was about to leave he gave you a pointed look. ‘You.stay.here.’ He gestured to the bed before leaving you to look up at the ceiling, knowing that if Bruce was going to be looking after you, there’s was little to no chance that he would let you step even a toe out of bed without looking at you like a overtired husband.

Bonus: baby dick and Jason are your ‘bodyguards.’ Who will tell Bruce if you even tried to leave bed before you were fully healed.

[cupidbedsy]

𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 | 𝘲𝘩43 ♔

➪ summary: follow quinn and y/n through their journey of going from best friends to lovers

➪ warnings: reader has a shitty day, mentions of parents fighting, hate comments, that's all i think?

➪ word count: 5.1k

➪ file type: song based fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: i forgot how much this tugs at my heart. i'm sorry this took a little longer than i hoped it would but it's finally out again. i hope you guys enjoy it again - blog maintenance is happening tomorrow if i can get my computer to work :)

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife 

˚₊· senior year of high school (2016-2017)

She was having a tough time, school, finals, graduation, work, everything and anything that she did seemed like it was ganging up on her. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason for her stress, but there were many things she could blame it on. On top of it, her parents had been fighting nonstop for the past month. It wasn’t like they hadn’t before but this time it was worse because she felt like she was the cause of it.

Quinn had invited her over for some dinner, hoping to at least relieve some of the stress from his best friend’s shoulders. When she arrived he could see the stress on her face, she looked as if she didn’t want to come in the first place. 

He stepped aside and let the girl in, “Hey, y/n/n.”

“Hey Quinner,” She gave him a tired smile. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired.” She ran a hand through her hair before following Quinn to his room, saying hi to Ellen on the way. Ellen looked at the girl strangely, “Hi, y/n.”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ellen, hon.” She pressed a kiss to her head, “Are you okay? You look-”

Bad? Drained? Stressed? Annoyed? Tired? All of the above? Is what she wanted to say, but didn’t, “I’m just a little tired right now.” Ellen nodded but looked unconvinced, shooting her oldest a look who shook his head.

He lightly took the girl’s arm and took her to his room, offering her to sit on his bed which she took gratefully. She looked around his room and at the posters on his wall before looking over at where he now sat at his desk. He was already looking at her with a small smile on his face, concern still lingering in his eyes.

The two stared at each other for a moment before a knock was heard on the door, “Hi.”

The two looked over to see his brothers standing there, “Hi Jack, Luke.”

Quinn didn’t reciprocate his best friend’s kindness, “What do you two want?”

“We just wanted to give y/n this.” Luke pulled out one of his bear stuffed animals from behind his back, “You looked sad.” Jack stood there, slightly out of place, mostly because this was Luke’s idea instead of his, but he liked y/n enough to go with him.

“Awe, thanks, you guys.” Tears made their way to the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall in front of the two. 

Noticing her expression, Jack waved goodbye and dragged the eighth grader behind him. Y/n held the bear in her lap, arms wrapping around it tightly as she tried not to think of the events that happened before she got here. 

“Y/n/n? Are you sure you're okay, because if not-” Quinn’s overwhelming concern for her made the tears bubble over in her eyes and a sob ripped from her throat, “I can’t do it anymore, Quinny.” 

Quinn was quick to get up from his desk chair and stumble over to his bed to wrap the girl in a hug. He knew he didn’t have to do anything but hold her tight as she dug her head into his chest, the stuffed animal still clutched tightly to her chest. 

It took her about ten minutes to calm down, tear after tear, and for her it felt like it would never stop. Quinn did what he always did and waited for her to stop so he, or she, could talk about it. He knew if he tried to talk to her while she was crying, she wouldn’t listen, nothing got through to her when she was crying this hard. 

When she pulled away to wipe away her tear-stained face, Quinn opened his mouth to talk, “You know you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you can, I’ll always listen.” He reached his hand out to wipe away one tear that she missed, one blackened by her mascara, leaving a trail of the makeup it held behind it. 

She held a weak smile on her face at the warmth his hand brought to her cheek and looked at him, “Just finals and other shit like that, the usual. Plus, my parents were fighting again, I think that was my final straw.”

Quinn nodded his head, recognizing the tone in her voice that said she didn’t want to talk. Her face looked more tired after crying and he sighed, scooting back to rest his back against the headboard. Y/n looked at him confusedly but smiled when he opened his arms. She was quick to lay against his front, laying her head on his chest once more, still holding the bear in her grasp. 

Ellen walked by twenty minutes later to tell them that dinner was ready, but when she peaked into her son’s room and saw both of them with their eyes closed she smiled, closed the door, and walked away telling the rest of the family to be quiet as they slept. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

and if it was an open-shut case i never would've known from that look on your face lost in your current like a priceless wine

˚₊· end of senior year/graduation (2017)

Both of them knew the feelings that they harbored for each other but were both unsure of how the other felt. Neither one of them wanted to mess up their current friendship, they had been best friends since freshman year. 

It had never been that simple between them, their friends saying how they looked like a couple everywhere they went. She would always wear his jerseys to his games or one of his shirts and he would always show up to her events with unwavering support. 

Whenever someone saw Quinn, y/n wasn’t too far behind and vice versa, whenever y/n was asked what she was doing that night, she would say hanging out with Quinn and vice versa. They would always be caught holding hands or leaning up against one another or literally any other way that looked like they were dating. 

They never said anything though, and they wouldn’t until graduation. Quinn and y/n stood side by side taking a picture with each other as they waited for their parents to find them. Y/n knew Quinn was good at hockey, good enough to get drafted, good enough to make the NHL, it was no secret. But because of Quinn’s birthday that wouldn’t happen for at least another year.

She was worried, she didn’t want to lose him. She didn’t want him to become this big-shot hockey player and forget about her, she didn’t want him to become a self-absorbed player with an ego bigger than himself. Though deep down she knew he would never let his ego get that big, but the forgetting part? As much as she told herself he wouldn’t and knew that he wouldn’t she couldn’t get past the ‘what if?’

Quinn waved a hand in front of her face, snapping a couple of times to gain her attention, “Y/n. Y/n. Y/n.” He dragged out the last syllable of her name. 

She looked at him, her eyes getting rid of the glassed-over look by blinking, “What?”

“I’ve been talking for the past couple of minutes and you, my dear sweet y/n, have not responded. You have just been-” Quinn looked over to where her focus had landed when she spaced out, “staring at that tree.”

“Oh sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re going to go to school for one year and then you’re going to get drafted. You’re going to go away somewhere and play professional hockey for a living and you’re going to forget about me.”

“Who said I was going to forget about you?”

“No one, just me and my thoughts.”

“Well, you and your thoughts are wrong, because I could never forget about you.” He tilted her head down to kiss the top of her head.

“That’s what you say now.”

“I’ll you fly out to wherever I’m playing, Nashville, Toronto, Vancouver, anywhere, and I’ll let you punch me if I forget about you because you are the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me. Since freshman orientation, I knew you were the one.”

“Are you just saying that because I was the only one who would talk about hockey with you?”

Quinn, being bold, slid his hands underneath y/n’s graduation gown, grabbing onto her waist through the fabric of her dress and pulling her close to him. She stumbled at the unexpected action, causing the boy to apologize before placing his index finger underneath her chin and lifting it so her eyes would meet his, “Look at me.”

She sighed when the two made contact. Quinn noticed the fear in her eyes, she truly didn’t want to lose him and he didn’t either, “I know you’re worried and so am I, but I promise you this-”

She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, the whole bullshit of the promises not to forget about her, she’s read it plenty of times in books, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Quinn.” She averted her eyes away again, directing them to the other families around them.

“Hey.” Quinn once again moved her head so her eyes had no choice but to look into his own, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Quinn but that doesn’t really change-”

“Just shut up for one minute, will you? I love you, y/n. And I don’t mean the typical I love you that you give to the girls. I love you and I was too afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship and I didn’t know how you felt but I thought if there was a time to tell you this, it would be now.”

Y/n looked at him in shock, the words she had been waiting for since she walked into the auditorium for orientation. This wasn’t real life, was it?

Quinn stared at her blank face as she opened and closed her mount a couple of times, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

The boy went to walk away but she placed a hand on his arm, “No! No, I’m sorry I just didn’t know what to say. I love you too, Quinn.”

“You do?”

She nodded and Quinn wasted no time placing his lips onto hers.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind head on the pillow, i could feel you sneaking in

˚₊· fall of 2021

She loved Quinn, she truly did, but not that much that she was willing to stay up into the early hours of the morning/late hours of the night for him after a game. She texted him saying that she was going to bed and that she was proud of him for his game. 

It was the first time since they moved in together that Quinn had a night home game. Getting used to the rhythm that was going to be for the rest of Quinn’s hockey career was starting slow. She wasn’t used to him coming home at late hours of the night or leaving in the early hours of the morning before the sun was up to go to practice. 

She didn’t mind it that much though, just knowing that he was coming home to her was good enough for the both of them. She laid in bed, hoping that she would be able to stay awake until he got home but she fell asleep within moments of her placing her ends down on the pillow.

When Quinn got the text, he had just finished putting on his suit jacket and he wanted nothing more than to go home to his girl and lay next to her in their newly shared bed. But, his teammates were not going to let that happen. 

They dragged him to a bar to have one or two drinks before heading home. He thinks he’s never detested his teammates this much before this moment. When he finished his first drink, he said goodbye, practically running out of the doors of the bar. 

He unlocked the car and practically sped home and crept into the apartment, just in case y/n was already sleeping. He set his things down and walked into the bedroom and smiled when he saw her curled up in the sheets, a shirt of his adorning her body much like in college when he’d go to away games. 

He took a quick shower, not wanting to prolong the duration of not having her in his arms. He put a pair of sweatpants on before carefully lifting the covers and sliding into bed. Y/n, who had been awake since he walked in the apartment doors, turned over, “Hey Quinner.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped to his girlfriend’s, “Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” 

“No, I was just a little cold and then I heard the front door click open.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were awake?”

“Because then I would’ve had to wait even longer for you to come to bed.”

Quinn smiled, kissing her, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind they count me out time and time again

˚₊· 2022

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 58,527 others

_quinnhughes happy fifth anniversary to this gorgeous girl. and while we both know that five should really be a nine, i'm glad i've been able to call you mine for the five of them. i love you, y/n <3

tagged: yourusername

view 309 comments

yourusername: quinn... i love you so much 💙

⤷ _quinnhughes: i love you too pretty girl 💚

⤷ user: the canucks colors 🥹

jackhughes: proud of you for putting up with him for so many years @/yourusername

⤷ yourusername: my pleasure

lhughes_06: congrats you two!

*liked by _quinnhughes & yourusername*

user: five years? hah, that's humorus

user: can't believe she's kept him for that long, thought quinn would've dumped her when he made the nhl

user: she's not even that pretty, i don't see the appeal

user: probably just using him

user: don't see this lasting any longer

_eliaspetterson: congrats guys! happy five years

*liked by yourusername & _quinnhughes*

bboeser: my besties!

⤷ _quinnhughes: please do not ever use that word again

⤷ yourusername: i think it's sweet, quintin

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind but i come back stronger than a 90's trend 

˚₊· 2022

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 『 instagram 』

nhlwags

liked by yourusername, _quinnhughes, canucks, and 8,432 others

nhlwags as we ring in the holiday season, y/n is back with her famous gift bags! we heard cookies were the hit thing this year.

also wishing these two a (very) belated fifth anniversary, hope quinn and y/n have many more years to come (maybe a ring soon 👀)

tagged: yourusername, _quinnhughes, canucks

view 98 comments

yourusername: my favorite time of year! always glad when i get to make the team things. (and yes, i'm hoping for a ring too 😔)

⤷ user: if you don't get a ring, it's rigged. wya @/_quinnhughes??

⤷ yourusername: fr

_eliaspetterson: cookies were amazing as always, treating us well over here

bboeser: our little baker!

jackhughes: this is preposterous! we never got any cookies :(

⤷ yourusername: you know what that word means?

⤷ jackhughes: when did you start becoming a bully to me

⤷ yourusername: when i started hanging out with you too much

user: gagged them fr

user: well... she shut them up

user: me looking for all the hate comments to defend my girl

user: i really wanna know what the famous y/n cookies taste like

⤷ j.tmiller9 heaven

⤷ colemcward: the greatest thing on this planet

⤷ conor.garland8: amazing

⤷ jackhughes: perfect

⤷ lhughes_06: everything you would want them to taste like

⤷ _quinnhughes: i'm starting to get the sense you guys only come to my house to taste her food

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark show me the places where the others gave you scars

˚₊· summer of ‘19

“Meet me at the dock after everyone goes to bed” was the text y/n got at ten o’clock. She smiled to herself when she read it and patiently waited for everyone to go to bed before sneaking out of the house and running down to the dock. Quinn sat with his feet dangling over the wood into the water waiting for his girlfriend. When he heard footsteps behind him, he turned around and grinned when he saw her running towards him. 

They hadn’t had a moment alone together in almost three months. When Quinn had to fly to Vancouver to make his debut, she couldn’t come with him, having to finish her classes. Then she was staying with her parents for the majority of May and into June and she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Quinn had been finishing up some things with the team and he ended up spending some much-needed time with his family. 

Ever since y/n had gotten to the lake house, she had been helping Ellen with things and spending time with Luke and Jack because they wanted her to. They played Mario Kart and other video games, and the two made her go out on the boat with them and made her watch as they did tricks and flipped into the water. 

Quinn patted the space next to him but instead, y/n took her spot right on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes widened at the sudden contact but happily wrapped his arms around her waist, snuggling into one another. 

Y/n looked at him, “So, I guess I’m dating a big-shot NHL player now, huh?”

Quinn merely shrugged, “I guess you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes, unfortunately, because he’s living in a totally different country than me and in the opposite direction.”

“Aw, that sucks. I’m sorry to hear that. He must feel terrible.”

“Oh I don’t know, he gets to be a free man.”

“I wouldn’t say free, more sad.”

That comment made her perk up, “What’s wrong?”

“I just, miss you.” His voice ever so slightly cracked and she could see the tears starting to form in his eyes, “Honey. Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

At the nickname, Quinn immediately started crying,  he had missed her so much, much more than he ever imagined he would. He never really thought about the fact that his best friend, his girlfriend, his everything would be in Michigan while he was in Vancouver. 

“No, it’s not okay. I get to live out my dream but my dream isn’t complete without you there. We’re going to be 2,368.82 miles apart for at least the next two years. I don’t think I can do it.”

Y/n hated it when he cried, it broke her heart into a million pieces when she saw the tears trickling down his face. Much like he always did with her, she reached up and cupped his face, wiping his tears off his face, “Listen to me. We are Quinn and y/n, y/n and Quinn, when has anything ever stopped us from being apart? Where's Quinn from when we graduated, huh? The Quinn who promised me that he would never forget me and that everything was going to be okay? Just because we’re however many miles you said apart doesn’t mean anything. So now it’s my turn to promise you something. I promise you that we are going to find a way to make this work.”

Quinn nodded his head, still a little unconvinced about her words. In a way to distract him from the thoughts that he never thought he would be able to escape, she looked at the scars on his body and started asking him questions about them. 

Some were from his childhood when he, Jack, and Luke would be playing a game or messing around and one of them would throw something at him or he was pushed over. Some were from when he played hockey when he was younger, getting shoved into the boards or shoving someone else into the boards. Some were from the games he played in the spring, his first games in the NHL. Those were y/n’s favorites and least favorites. Favorites because it was from his dream, and the stories behind them would last forever, least favorites because they reminded her of how much he could get hurt doing this. But that wasn’t something she wanted to worry about right now. 

All she wanted to do was think about this moment, the moment they were living in as the stars illuminated where they sat on the dock, in each other’s arms, talking about random stories from each other’s childhood. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

now this is an open-shut case guess i should've known from the look on your face every bait and switch was a work of art

˚₊· fall/winter of 2023

“You guys would never guess what I found when I was cleaning the other day.” Y/n came walking in from the room she had been in. 

Jack and Luke sat at the table with Quinn and Ellen and Jim sat near their sons, one of the days leading up to the Hughes v Hughes game. They all smiled as the girl came bounding in, Quinn had just placed down his tiles when she spoke and he raised his eyebrows, “What’d you find, hon?”

Y/n placed a fluffy object down on the wood surface, “Luke’s bear that he and Jack gave me when we were in high school.”

“Paulie?” 

“You still remember its name?” Jack laughed loudly and Ellen got up to hit the middle child on the back of his head, “Don’t make fun of you brother.”

“Oh, come on. You have to admit, it's a little funny.”

Luke blushed heavily and Quinn quirked an eyebrow, “Why do you still have that is my question.” He took the bear into his grasp and started fiddling with its arms, “Because.”

She shrugged and all five of the Hughes’ looked intrigued, “Y/n, you have to tell us.” Jack insisted as he leaned forward, messing up the game that had previously been going on. Quinn and Luke groaned at their brother’s actions. 

“Because,” She ripped the bear from her boyfriend’s grasp and held it to her chest, “Because it reminds me of that day when I was sad and you guys cheered me up. It was the first day I felt a part of the family.”

“I remember that day.” Luke spoke up, looking between everyone in the room, “Jack and I were sitting on the couch when Quinn opened the door for you and you came in and you looked all…”

“Dead?”

“I was gonna say sad but I guess that works too. Anyway, when you two went up I told Jack my plan and he hesitated about it but I knew he had a soft spot for you so he caved in easily. I ran to my room to get the bear and give it to you.”

“It was a stupid, plan.” Jack laughed again but he knew how much it meant to y/n. 

The girl shrugged and hugged Luke from behind, resting her arms on his shoulders as they wrapped around him, clasping her hands together, “It’s okay, Luke. I loved it.”

Ellen smiled, “And following, you’ve always been a part of the family. Ever since Quinn came back from freshman orientation just bragging about the girl he met.”

“Mom.” Quinn threw his head back in annoyance and y/n giggled, “You talked to your mom about me? From freshman orientation? Ew, I was just a dork back then.”

“If I remember correctly, Quinn couldn’t stop talking about the girl that wore a Patrick Sharp Blackhawks jersey one or two sizes too big, with her hair in braids who talked about hockey with him for the duration of orientation.” Jim patted his son on his shoulder as Quinn continued to clench his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Do we really have to relive this moment?”

“Maybe not now but Ellen and I are definitely going to talk about this when you aren’t around.”

“Hey look at that, she called me Ellen! It only took her ten years.” The woman teased as she wrapped her in a hug. 

“Hey! I thought I was being respectful, and it’s a force of habit.” Y/n blushed as she smiled and gasped when all of a sudden an armed wrap around her and Quinn pulled her into his lap.

“Quinn!” Quinn hid his face in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply, “I’m never going to live this down. 

“Probably not.” Looking at her watch, y/n realized the time, placing a kiss on Quinn’s forehead. 

“I should be going to bed, I got work in the morning. Night everyone!”

The four let out their goodnights and Quinn whispered an ‘I love you’ and y/n repeated the words to him before heading into their shared bedroom. The five Hughes’ sat in the kitchen for a couple of minutes in silence until Jack spoke, “So, when are you going to ask her?”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

the more that you say the less i know

˚₊· freshman year of college (2017-2018)

Sitting at one of the tables in the student center, y/n sat across from Quinn as he talked about whatever was going on in the hockey world. She understood hockey, enough to be able to watch the game when it was happening and she knew some of the stats, but anything past that, not a clue in the world. 

She loved it when Quinn talked about hockey though. His eyes lit up and held this glint in them, he talked really fast, just spewing out nonsense. It was the highlight of her day when it happened, it was at least once a day if not more. He would always show up outside her dorm room or offer to take her to dinner. 

Every time he did, it always took Quinn a while to notice that his girlfriend wasn’t responding and this was the same. Quinn was rambling about Ohio State’s hockey team and the upcoming game against them and she just sat there, amused by his voice and his facial expressions. 

Quinn was halfway through his ramble when he finally made eye contact with her, “You’re not paying any attention to this are you?”

“I’m sorry, babe, but it’s really hard to when you look like that when you talk.”

“Look like what? An idiot for not knowing my girlfriend is not listening to any word I say?”

“No, hot.” Quinn’s cheeks reddened as he looked at her, “You never fail to make me blush do you”

“Absolutely not, and anyway, you know I never understand hockey. I try but it’s all in one ear and out the other.”

“I think one time we need to set up something so you can learn everything you need to know. Get you a book or make you a slide show or something.”

“Sure, Quinny. Whatever you say.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

wherever you stray i follow

˚₊· september of 2021

“You can just put that box over there.”

Jack placed down the box where y/n said, “How much stuff do you have?”

“Wow, Jack. Can’t believe you’d be so mean to me. This is why Luke is my favorite.” Y/n placed her arm around Luke as he walked into the apartment, “What?”

“Nothing, you poor innocent little man.” Y/n walked away to start unpacking the box Jack had placed down not too long ago.

“Do you guys need any help?” Luke asked politely, following after his brother’s girlfriend. 

“Nah, I’m okay. Thanks you guys, just chill out for a little bit before we go out for dinner.” The two nodded, sitting on Quinn’s, and now y/n’s, couch.

Just at that moment, Ellen walked in from the hallway and Quinn followed her, “It would be nice of you two to actually help y/n instead of just sitting there.”

Jack threw his arms up, “We offered to help her and she said no!”

“Actually, I offered but yes, she said it was okay.”

Y/n nodded her head, “I did.”

『••✎••』

Later that night, y/n and Quinn were standing in the living room, looking out the window. Quinn was standing behind the girl with his arms wrapped around her waist, “I can’t believe this is real.”

“I know, the lights are beautiful.”

“Not that.”

“Then what?” She looked up at him to see a lovesick expression on his face. 

“You here, in Vancouver.”

“Hey, you didn’t want me to be here in the first place.”

“Yeah well, I wanted you to do what was best for you. I didn’t want you to move all the way out here just because I was here.”

“How dumb are you?”

“Very, apparently.” 

She smiled again and rocked the two of them side to side, “Whatcha wanna do?”

Quinn just winked at her eliciting a giggle from her.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

i'm begging for you to take my hand wreck my plans that's my man

˚₊· july/august of 2021 + november 7, 2021

“Quinn please!”

“Y/n, I’m not letting you do this. You had it all planned out since the moment we both got our acceptance letters.”

“I know that Quinn, but things change, plans change. I want to be with you, forever. I want to be wherever you are, please just let me come to Vancouver with you.”

The two stared at each other, eyes locked. They had been arguing for the past hour, ever since y/n brought it up. She had just graduated college and with Quinn having been in the NHL for the past two years she got a taste of what it would be like to do long distance, and it was horrible for both of them. 

“You know what it's like. These past two years have been horrible, Quinn, and not just for me and you know it.” Her voice cracked, “I would rather wreck everything I have planned for my future just to move to Vancouver for you. I can find a job there.”

“Are you sure, like 100% sure about this?” Y/n placed her hands on his cheeks, “Of course, I’m sure.”

Quinn nodded his head, “When do you want to move in?”

『••✎••』

It was November when y/n was able to go to Quinn’s first home game. It was a Sunday and they were playing the Stars. She was extremely excited as she threw on her jersey and drove to Rogers Arena. She met up with some of the wags that were going to the game as well and they sat in the suite waiting for their husbands to start playing. 

When they all came out, they cheered in unison watching them skate. They conversed slightly, giving y/n teasing comments and glances every time the announcers would mention Quinn or he had done something even remotely good for the team. It was worse when he got sent to the penalty box for cross-checking in the first period.

Most of them gave her cheeky grins when they showed him in the box, some giving her nudges. She blushed deeply as they made their comments. She didn’t know what was up with him tonight, he got three primary assists and a penalty. 

After the game, the wags excitedly took the girl down to the tunnel to wait for Quinn, “Hey, there’s your man.”

Y/n looked up and smiled, “That is my man.” 

Quinn smiled brightly, picking the girl up and spinning her around, “I can’t believe you’re here! You’re actually here!”

“Alrighty, Quinny, calm down. You’re causing a scene.”

“Sorry, babe. I’m just really excited that you’re here.” He smiled down at her, his hands on her lower biceps, just above her elbow, “I can tell.”

“What do you say, you guys want to go out for dinner?”

“Quinn, I got work in the morning. I need some sleep. Maybe another time though?” The girls nodded their heads at y/n and let the young couple wander off out of the arena and to their car.

“I’m really glad you’re here. I don’t know if I would’ve survived another minute without knowing you weren’t waiting at home for me.”

“Well, you never have to survive another minute without me again. Unless you’re on a road trip then, yes, but you know what I mean.”

Quinn and y/n were so in love it was actually kind of annoying to some people, but they had to admit that they were absolutely adorable.

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

-

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

[pbnbucks]

could you possibly write reader blowing paige’s back out w the strap while paige records it?😩

word count : 623

warnings : smut, cussing, overstim

summary : paige misbehaved and delt with the consequences

“aww is my poor baby crying? thats what you get when you want to miss behave baby” you coo as paige’s sobs grow loader chasing her high after her 5th denied release.

to say you where mad at her was a understatement, you were beyond livid with her. you came home only to be met with paige and her stinky attitude.

when you got home she started a pointless argument over cereal being left out in the kitchen before you left for track practice. then you took her to your team dinner only for her to ignore you the entire time and embarrass you in front of your team.

so you knew exactly what you had to when you got home. paige sinks back on the silicone as her pleas go in one of your ears and out the other refusing to give her what she desired.

“you want to cum paigey?” you tease her knowing you wont let her have her release just yet adding another round to the passionate loop hole.

“yes. need to so fucking bad” she sobs only to bet with you sliding out of her cunt as more tears stain her cheeks from your painful overstimulating.

your eyes scan the room as you push the strap back in to her as you see her phone laying on the night stand as an vile idea pops in to your head.

“go get your phone for me baby” you demand as paige follows your orders handing you her phone only for you to place it back in your milky colored hands.

she looks confused at your actions as you push her face back down in to the bed sheets starting your lust filled thrust. “go on pretty, record yourself”

she thinks before actually pressing the record button seeing her petite lower body as you slam into her sopping cunt relentlessly. your hands roam her thin body finding their way to her tits massaging them as her moans grow loader filling your ego in the perfect way.

“let them see your pretty face baby” you coo as she moves the phone from facing her lower half to now showing her twisted face as tears pepper along her red flustered face as your hand goes to her throat lifting her face up at a angle for a better view because you knew you both were going to rewatch this video many, many times.

“you like when i fuck you like the little slut you are huh?” you retort as she maintains eye contact with you through the screen of her cracked phone while she fucks you back on the toy knowing shes reaching her release.

“love it so fucking much mommy” she pleas as her free hand goes to her mouth sucking her fingers for a few seconds then to be met with her sensitive clit.

“you think you deserve to cum now pretty” you say knowing you where going to let the sweet girl cum either way, she was your princess after all. “yes fuck- please” she complys.

“keep your eyes on your phone, want you to see yourself when you cum all over mommys cock” grabbing a tight grip on her long hair as her liquids spill all over her legs, your legs, drenching the strap, while her pleasure filled screams fill the room.

her cum squirting every where as you helped her ride out her high letting the strap sink in one last time before pulling out placing a sloppy kiss on her plump lips.

“you gonna act like that again?” you ask her innocently as she almost chokes on her gasps out of breathe before responding “never again” she coos as you rub her inner thighs soothing her nerves

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ interlude - i have questions

chapter summary: Logan tries to figure out how to move on from your death after Alcatraz Island in the years following.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is kinda different from what i normally do, but i had this idea in my head. if anyone has ever read 'a series of unfortunate events' or watched the show on netflix (i highly recommend both) then you know lemony snicket (the author and narrator) always puts a quote about beatrice, the love of his life who he lost, at the start of every book. so instead, i put some quotes at the start of every time cut (there are only three very short drabbles, but i wanted to try my hand at it so this is not a required read for the series)

warnings/tags: sadness, angst, depression?, heavy drinking, mentioned blood loss

series masterlist - chapter 9 → chapter 11

you left too soon,

i wasn’t done loving you yet.

---

During the night Logan hoped for two different things: that he would go to sleep peacefully, without dreams of you, or that he would dream of you.

The mansion was unnervingly quiet. The students had adjusted to the absence of Charles, Jean, and Scott in ways only kids could—by moving forward. The classrooms still buzzed during the day, Ororo still led them with grace and determination, and Hank busied himself in his lab, pushing forward as if the cracks in the foundation weren’t there.

But Logan? Logan couldn’t move forward.

Not without you.

It had been months since Alcatraz, and every day was heavier than the last. He’d carried you back himself, refusing help even though every muscle in his body screamed against it. He’d stayed with you until the funeral, until the dirt covered the final trace of you. But even that couldn’t make him leave.

Now, the mansion felt like a ghost of what it had been when you were alive. The hallways didn’t echo with the same warmth, and he swore that every room still smelled faintly like you, even though he knew it wasn’t possible. Your classroom remained untouched, the pen you always twirled still resting on the desk where you’d left it, just like every other time you’d been too nervous to notice.

He couldn’t bring himself to enter it again.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed in the room you’d shared that last week before the battle. His elbows rested on his knees, a cigar burning out between his fingers. He stared at the floor, your name an unspoken ache in his throat.

Sleep wouldn’t come. It never did. Not since that night.

His head fell into his hands as he let out a shaky breath. Memories of your smile, your laugh, the way you’d said I love you before kissing him—those memories haunted him, louder and sharper than anything else. He carried you in a way he hadn’t been able to carry anyone else.

He felt your absence in every breath he took.

The bed creaked as Logan stood. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, its glow casting shadows across the room. Three in the morning. The kind of hour where the world felt still but not peaceful. His bag was already packed in the corner, and his boots were waiting by the door. He’d known tonight was the night—he couldn’t stay here any longer.

Logan lit the cigar between his lips, taking a slow drag before picking up the bag. The weight of it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He made his way down the hall, pausing briefly outside your classroom. His hand hovered over the doorframe before he clenched it into a fist and moved on. He couldn’t open the door. Not now, not ever.

By the time he reached the garage, Ororo was there, leaning against one of the cars with her arms crossed. She’d always been perceptive, too much for her own good.

“You’re really leaving,” she said softly, not as a question but as a fact. Her tone wasn’t judgmental—just tired.

Logan nodded, tossing his bag into the truck he’d commandeered months ago. “Ain’t much left for me here.”

Ororo stepped forward, her brows furrowed as she studied him. “That’s not true, and you know it. The students need you, Logan. We need you.”

“They’ll manage without me.” He pulled open the driver’s side door, but Ororo reached out, her hand on his arm.

“Logan—”

He stopped, exhaling a breath full of frustration and something deeper. “Don’t try to stop me, ‘Ro. You know I can’t do this anymore.”

Her grip loosened, her hand falling to her side. She hesitated, searching his face for something—anything—that might change his mind. “She wouldn’t want you to leave.”

Logan froze, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the door. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Ororo didn’t flinch. “She loved you, Logan. She believed in you. If she were here—”

“But she’s not here,” Logan snapped, his voice breaking as he turned to face her fully. “She’s not here, and she’s not comin’ back. None of them are. So don’t stand there and tell me what she would’ve wanted. You don’t know.”

The air around Ororo shifted, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. She nodded once, stepping back. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I don’t know. But I do know that running won’t make it hurt any less.”

Logan didn’t respond. He climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut as he started the engine. He didn’t look back as he pulled out of the garage, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a blade.

The mansion disappeared in the rearview mirror, and with it, the life he’d tried—and failed—to build.

As the miles stretched on and the road unfolded before him, Logan felt the ring pressing against his chest like a curse. He pulled it out, letting it rest in his palm as his foot eased off the gas.

He’d carried it for more than a century, waiting for the right time. But the right time had come and gone six times over, and this time, there was no coming back.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He slipped the ring back into his pocket, where it would stay—like the memory of you, a ghost that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

He kept driving, the road endless and empty, each mile taking him further from the mansion but never from you.

---

“You can’t love someone unless you love

yourself first.” Bullshit.

I have never loved myself.

But you

Oh God, I loved you so much I forgot what

hating myself felt like.

---

Getting shitfaced at a bar was Logan’s routine nowadays. It didn’t matter where—dingy dives or polished joints—it all tasted the same after the fourth whiskey. The bartender at tonight’s hole-in-the-wall had finally kicked him out, muttering something about closing time. Logan didn’t fight him. He barely muttered a thanks before stumbling out into the cold night air.

The streets were quiet, empty except for the occasional car passing by. His boots scuffed against the pavement as he made his way back to the motel where he’d been crashing. It wasn’t much—a single bed, a bathroom, and a TV that barely worked—but it was enough for someone like him.

The whiskey hadn’t done its job. The buzz wasn’t strong enough to drown out the memories, and the quiet only made it worse.

Logan shoved open the door to his room, letting it slam shut behind him. He tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner and sank onto the edge of the bed. His hands came up to his face, rough fingers dragging down as if he could wipe away the exhaustion. But it wasn’t just his body that was tired; it was everything.

He pulled off his boots, letting them drop to the floor with a heavy thud. The cheap mattress creaked as he fell back onto it, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. His hand found the chain around his neck, pulling the ring free from beneath his shirt. It dangled between his fingers, the light from the streetlamp outside casting faint glints against its surface.

The ache in his chest was a familiar one—sharp and relentless. He closed his eyes, gripping the ring tightly in his fist as if that could bring you back.

It never did.

---

It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of you.

In the dream, you were there—alive, warm, and smiling at him like you always had. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your glasses slipping down your nose as you scribbled something into a notebook.

“Logan,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “You’re staring again.”

“Can’t help it, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “You’re a hell of a lot prettier than the walls.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of life. It tugged at something deep in his chest, the same way it always did. You pushed your glasses up the same way you always did, while you kept your head down, hiding that smile of yours.

Logan moved closer, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside you. You looked up at him, your eyes catching his in a way that made his heart stumble. He reached out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch without hesitation.

“Don’t leave,” you said, so softly it almost wasn’t a sound. “Promise me you’ll stay this time.”

Logan’s jaw tightened at the sound of your voice. It was so achingly familiar, so damn real that he almost believed it was true. Almost.

“I’ll stay,” he said gruffly, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. His hand stayed on your cheek, the warmth of your skin grounding him in a way that felt cruel and kind all at once. “Ain’t got anywhere else to be, sweetheart.”

You smiled, and for a moment, it was as if the weight in his chest lifted. The lines on his face softened as his thumb traced the curve of your jaw.

“You always say that,” you teased, leaning closer until your forehead rested against his. “And yet you always find a reason to leave.”

Logan closed his eyes, the accusation cutting deep, even if it wasn’t meant to hurt. The truth was, you weren’t wrong. Every life, every version of you, he’d lost—by fate, by chance, or by his own failure.

“Not this time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise.”

Your hand came up to cover his, delicate fingers wrapping around his much larger ones. “But you have to go,” you said softly, eyes searching his face. “You can’t stay here.”

Logan’s chest tightened, the dream taking on that cruel, vivid sharpness that felt too real to be anything but torture. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. “No,” he growled, voice low and almost desperate. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Not again.”

You smiled at him, but there was sadness in it. The kind of sadness that cut deep, quiet and understanding. “You have to,” you whispered, your thumb brushing over his knuckles like you were comforting him. “You don’t belong here.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, the weight of your words sinking in, but he didn’t loosen his grip on you. “This ain’t fair,” he said, his voice rough, teetering on the edge of anger and pain. “You were s’posed to stay this time. We had plans, remember? You, me…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, the words catching in his throat.

Your free hand came up to cup his face, gently coaxing him to look back at you. “Logan,” you said, your tone tender but firm, “you’ve always been the strongest man I know. But even you can’t fight this.”

“I can try,” he said gruffly, his hand tightening around yours. “I’d fight the whole damn world if it meant I got to keep you.”

Your smile softened, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had paused. “I know,” you said. “And you always have. But you don’t need to fight anymore. Not for me.”

Logan’s brows drew together, his eyes glassy as he searched your face for something, anything that might make this easier. “I don’t know how to let go,” he admitted, the words barely audible. “I don’t even know who I am without you.”

“You’re Logan,” you said simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “You’re the man who’s lived a thousand lives and still keeps going, no matter what.”

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, livin’ don’t feel much like livin’ without you.”

Your hand slid down from his face, resting over his heart. “I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your eyes holding his like they could anchor him. “Every heartbeat, every breath—you’ll carry me with you.”

Logan closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled a shaky breath. He wanted to believe you, to hold onto your words like they could fill the gaping hole you’d left behind. But when he opened his eyes again, the bed was empty, and the only sound was the faint hum of the motel’s heater.

His fist was still clenched around the ring, the metal warm from his grip. Logan sat up, dragging a hand down his face as the reality of the dream settled over him like a fresh wound. He looked down at the ring, the faint light catching on its surface, and let out a bitter chuckle.

“Even in my dreams, you’re tellin’ me to move on,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not yet.

---

But life has plans for all people. Even if those plans separate us

from the ones we love. No matter where my life takes me or

yours takes you, I will love you whether there are a thousand

miles between us or none at all.

---

Logan stood outside the hotel room, rain steadily pouring down on him as Mariko slept inside.

“That’s a lot of blood.”

He looked over to the side and saw you—or rather a vision, hallucination?—of you. “I thought you were done being the hero.” You continued.

“These guys were… trying to kill her.”

You gave him a small smile before walking closer to him, kissing his stubbled jaw and turning his head to you with a hand on his cheek. “You’ve always been a hero.”

Logan’s throat tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m no hero, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Not without you.”

Your hand lingered on his cheek, your gaze steady and unyielding. “You’re always going to be a hero Logan.” You tilted your head and even in this vision, your glasses had specks of rain on them from the downpour, “especially mine.”

The words hit Logan harder than any physical blow ever could. His jaw tightened as he stared at you—or the echo of you, the cruel trick his mind had conjured. Your presence was so real he could almost feel the warmth of your palm against his weathered skin, the way your touch had always managed to ground him no matter how lost he felt.

“Darlin’...” The word slipped from his lips in a voice rough with disbelief and pain. “This... this ain’t real.”

Your soft smile didn’t falter. “Maybe not,” you admitted, your tone impossibly gentle. “But does that really matter?”

He took a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knew he wouldn’t find. “It matters,” he rasped. “’Cause I can’t... I can’t keep seein’ you like this. I can’t keep hearin’ your voice in my head, feelin’ like—like you’re still here when you ain’t.”

You moved closer, your hand sliding from his cheek to rest over his heart. Logan flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t—not from you, even if you weren’t really here.

“I’ll always be here,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against the soaked fabric of his shirt. “You know that. You carry me with you, Logan. Every lifetime, every moment—you never let me go.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, hollow and heavy. “Maybe that’s the problem, sweetheart. Maybe I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“You’re not supposed to,” you said simply. “Not yet.”

Logan’s gaze hardened, the fire of his grief and frustration sparking through his voice. “Not yet? Then when, huh? When the hell am I supposed to stop seein’ your face every time I close my eyes? When am I supposed to stop hearin’ your voice every time I take a breath?”

You tilted your head again, your expression unreadable but calm in a way that only made his turmoil worse. “When you’re ready,” you said quietly. “And not a moment before.”

The rain poured harder, running in rivulets down Logan’s face as he stared at you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted to be angry, to scream at you, to demand why you’d left him—again, always. But he couldn’t. He never could. Not with you.

Instead, he whispered, “I miss you.”

Your hand pressed more firmly against his chest, where his heart thundered beneath your touch. “I know,” you said, your voice like a balm over his frayed edges. “I miss you, too.”

The blood loss finally took effect, and without his healing he stumbled to the ground, passing out.

if you read this, thank you! next chapter is back to our regularly scheduled programming, 'days of future past'! and oh boy, will it be everything you wished for ;)

also, i'm flying home for xmas break today so i'm super excited and happy that i'll have more time to write and read my long tbr. anyways, i'm off to catch a(nother) flight! xoxo

[blueberrylemontea-fanfic]

Just a little distraction

Pairing: JJ x Pope x fem!reader

Summary: You admit that you can't get into oral because you always overthink it. JJ suggests you might just need to be distracted.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, oral (male & female receiving), threesome

Based on Oral Exam by drcjsnider.

JJ put the joint between your parted lips.

"Beer me, Pope" he hooted, too loudly, at Pope who was sitting in the lounge chair next to the beer cooler on the porch of the Chateau.

Pope tossed both you and JJ a beer.

You had been lounging on the porch of the Chateau all morning, slowly getting stoned and slowly getting drunk. Once again, you guys had landed on your favourite topic of conversation: your sex lives. Or, lately, sadly, the lack thereof.

You took a long drag from the joint and sighed "God, I just really wanna get laid..."

Immediately you felt JJ scooch closer to you. "Y'know..."

"In your dreams, Maybank," you laughed.

"And it's not just getting laid, really, I mean that's the easy part..."

"Speak for yourself," Pope interrupted with a pained grin.

You and JJ giggled. "... it's finding a guy that can get me to cum that's harder."

Pope coughed out the smoke he was trying to inhale rolled over onto his stomach. JJ just grinned. "Oooh, we're getting to the good stuff now. All those mainlanders weren't up to the task, huh?"

"Not a single one of them."

"Wait so you never..." Pope trailed of at the end of his sentence.

"Not with anyone else present," you rolled your eyes.

"That's really hot," JJ smirked.

"And really sad," Pope added.

"Isn't it?" You sighed.

"So, like, none of these tools could get you to cum? Not even from oral?"

You grimaced "Nope. And I don't really like oral anyways."

"What?! Okay, how can you not like someone going down on you? It's like the best thing in the world?"

"Yeah, like you'd know." JJ chucked an empty beer can at Pope.

"I don't know. I just can't relax, y'know? I can't turn my brain off. I'm just constantly overthinking everything. I, like, need someone there to relax me or something."

"Looks like you were wrong JJ, now we're getting to the good stuff," Pope smirked.

You laughed. "I didn't mean it like that," you hit Pope on the arm playfully, "then again... It might not be the worst idea. If it means I finally get an orgasm, I'm all for it."

"Y'know..." JJ's fingers traced over your stomach. You tried to hide how his touch made your breath catch in your throat. "JJ..." You sighed. "I'm serious, Y/n. You not being able to enjoy someone going down on you is a travesty. It must be remedied at all costs, right Pope?"

"I hate to admit it, but JJ does have a point."

"Okay, so what exactly are you suggesting? You saying that you two could give me an orgasm?"

"I mean, we're two able and very willing young men, aren't we Pope? I think we're up to the task."

It was Pope's hand on your knee that did it.

You were crazy for even considering it, you knew that. But Pope's fingers softly grazing your knee while JJ's were still tracing circles on your stomach set your insides on fire. They'd finally made you an offer you couldn't refuse.

"Are you two sure about this?"

Their eyes widened briefly, surprised that you'd actually agree to this, then they both nodded faster than lightning.

You turned to JJ, slowly pulling him in by the collar of his shirt and pressing your lips against his. JJ's arm was firm against your back, holding you close as he kissed you back. He kissed you like he spent his whole life waiting to, deeply, passionately, all in.

You pulled away from JJ and took Pope's hand, letting him pull you up to your feet so your bodies were touching. Running your hand along the side of his face before finally, achingly slowly, you leaned in and let your lips fall against his. Pope kissed you like he'd spent his life dreaming about you, drawn out and featherlight, sending shivers down your spine.

"Let's go inside," you smiled as you peeled yourself off of Pope, taking both boys by the hand and guiding them into the Chateau. As soon as you were inside, JJ tugged you against him again, his mouth heavily on yours. You let go of Pope's hand to instinctively tangle your hands in JJ's hair. JJ tapped the back of your thighs and you hopped up into his arm, your legs wrapping around his waist.

While JJ was all over you, you noticed that Pope had drawn back a little, always more hesitant than his best friend. You tossed your hair over your shoulder and beckoned for Pope to come closer. "Don't be shy."

You held out your hand. Pope took it and let you guide him closer to you. You put his hand on your waist and then tapped the crook of your neck slightly. "I want you to touch me, Pope." JJ groaned at your words and reclaimed your mouth with his as Pope's lips slowly touched your neck.

You nodded your head at their movements, spurring them on. Pope's lips made their way along your neck, his chest pressed up against your back. He was sucking at the tender spot below your ear as his hands started roaming over your hips. JJ's fingers were trailing patterns up the back of your thigh, his tongue exploring the insides of your mouth. It all felt incredible.

You let out a soft, whimpering moan and felt both their mouths quirk up into a smirk against your skin. JJ's hand hesitated slightly. You pulled back from his kiss and whispered against his lips. "It's okay, JJ, you can touch me." His hands moved to cup your ass. JJ gave you a squeeze. "God, do you know how many times I've wanted to grab that great ass of yours?" He groaned.

You suddenly noticed that Pope's hand was stroking the side of your stomach, his hand travelling down until he reached the top of your shorts. "May I?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded vigorously and his hand dipped into your pants. Pope's fingers trailed down to your folds, stroking you lightly. You moaned loudly as he started rubbing slow circles on your clit.

"JJ?" His questioning baby blue eyes immediately met yours. You snapped the strap of your bikini top. "Untie this, will you?"

He looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he pulled the strings of your swimsuit and watched as it dropped to the floor. For a brief moment, both boys stood staring at you in awe.

"Christ, you're gorgeous, Y/n." JJ cursed as he kissed his way down your neck. You let your head fall back on Pope's shoulder, who captured your lips again in an instant. Every doubt you'd had, had already faded away into the background. Your two best friends were already making you feel better than anyone else ever had.

Slowly, JJ put you down on the couch. Both him and Pope started trailing kisses down your body, covering every inch of you. JJ slipped your shorts down your legs as they kissed down your inner thighs. Instinctively, you pushed your knees together, not used to this much exposure.

"You alright?" Two soft pairs of concerned eyes met yours. God, how you loved them...

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Just, feel a little exposed, that's all." You felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

JJ looked between himself and his friend. "Pope and I are a little behind in that department. Want us to catch up?"

You nodded gladly. "Yes, please."

You'd seen them in next to no clothes so often, and yet your breath hitched in your throat as they stripped down to their underwear. You didn't appreciate it often enough how fine these boys really were.

You reached out your hands and ran them down their torsos. When you reached their boxers you gave both bands a snap, a tentative question in your smile. True to character, JJ pushed his shorts down with an almost obnoxious speed, while Pope was a lot shyer about it. Not that he had any reason to.

"You guys are gorgeous, you know that, right?" The sight of them practically had you salivating. "Look who's talking," JJ chuckled. "Yeah, Y/n... We're nothing compared to you," Pope's hungry look made your stomach twist. "Strongly disagree," you smiled. "Now, will someone please touch me again?"

You did not have to ask twice.

JJ's hands tangled in your hair as he pressed his lips down on yours. Pope's eyes caught yours as his fingers traced over the top of your underwear.  You nodded and Pope slipped the fabric down your legs.

JJ's lips were once again making their way down your neck as Pope's were softly trailing up your thighs. You were all throaty moans as you squirmed underneath them. Pope's fingers found their way back to your clit, making you gasp.

You noticed that JJ had made his way down your body, now kneeling next to Pope. Wordlessly, Pope moved aside to let JJ take his place. Pope took over the assault on your neck and torso as JJ caught your eye, not unlike Pope had done mere minutes ago. Once again you nodded. JJ winked at you before he hooked your leg over his shoulder and flattened his tongue against your core.

Like always, your body tensed. This already felt so much better than it did with others, probably because you trusted JJ with your life, but even so, the sensation felt strange.

JJ's palms smoothed over your legs as he gave you some time to adjust to the feeling of his tongue against your skin.

"You sure you're good with this, Y/n? We can stop anytime you want to," he said when the tension didn't ease.

You shook your head quickly "I don't want you to stop."

JJ's smile could light up the entire cut. "Well, then you gotta relax, Y/n. Try not to be in your head so much. Don't focus on me or what I'm doing, just focus on Pope while I take care of you."

You nodded. Maybe he was right. You beckoned for Pope to come closer to you and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss. You felt JJ's tongue on you again, but tried to focus on Pope fully. While he was great kisser, it wasn't enough to keep your attention away from JJ.

You pulled back from the kiss slowly. You reached out your hand and ran your fingers down his body, pausing at his upper thigh. "Can I?" Pope nodded eagerly. You wrapped your hand around his base, focusing on the movement of your hand as you stroked him. The small whimpers that Pope let out at your touch made you wanna clench your thighs together, hadn't it been for JJ's head in between them.

After some slow strokes, you licked your hand and started pumping him for real. You worked your hand over his length, suddenly aware of the sensation between your own legs, where JJ's tongue was expertly lapping away at you.

Involuntarily, your free hand tangled into the blonde's hair as a low moan escaped you.

The three of you looked at each other in pleasant surprise before JJ's smug smile disappeared between your legs again.

You genuinely felt good now, and it spurred you on. You wanted to make Pope feel just as good as JJ was making you feel.

You leant up on your elbow and slowly ran your tongue underneath Pope's base before sucking his length into your mouth. Pope moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut as  he desperately tried to keep his composure.

You let go of Pope with a pop. "Pope?" His eyes were one wide-eyed question. "Would you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Stop holding back." You gave him a quick kiss on his upper thigh before taking him back into your mouth.

Pope let out a surprised groan that made your chest flutter.

"That's it, Pope, I wanna hear you."

Pope smiled as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck. His thumb stroked your cheek as you let your hollowed out cheeks glide along Pope's length. You were so focused on Pope that you'd stopped worrying about JJ's tongue against you. His thumb circling your clit was hard to miss though. You let out a yelp as your back arched off the bed.

" 's that good?" JJ asked. You nodded furiously. JJ's touch made it increasingly harder for you to focus on Pope. It wasn't long before you had to replace your mouth with your hand. You did your best to keep stroking Pope as you threw your head back. One hand was still tugging on JJ's hair as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"I'm so close, JJ," you moaned out. Your hand movements were becoming more erratic, and eventually you let go of Pope entirely. You recognized the familiar coiling in your stomach, but it felt so different from when you were on your own.

"Fuck, JJ!" You screamed as you came, back arched off the bed, one hand tangled in JJ's hair, the other gripping Pope's hand. You rode out your orgasm on JJ's tongue, before falling back onto the bed.

"Holy shit," you panted. "That was..."

"The hottest thing to ever happen in the history of the universe?" JJ finished your sentence.

Pope nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

You pulled JJ in for a kiss. "Thanks, JJ."

"You are so, so welcome, sunshine," he smiled widely.

"And you..." You gave Pope another kiss, too. "Best distraction ever," you winked. "But, um, I don't think I'm done with you."

"Oh no, Y/n, you don't have to. This whole thing was about you. It's okay."

You pulled Pope down so he was sitting on the bed next to you. "As someone who knows all too well what it feels like when a sexual partner leaves you unsatisfied, I have absolutely no intention of being that person. So, unless you don't want me to, I'd love to finish what I've started."

Pope swallowed harshly before he nodded. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered quickly. "If you want to."

You sank down onto your knees, eyeing Pope as you did. "Trust me, Pope, I want to."

You sank your lips back down onto Pope. You bobbed your head, your hand wrapped around his base. You were giving him your full attention now, able to set a much faster pace than you did earlier.

"Shit, Y/n," Pope groaned as he tangled his hand in your hair. "That feels so good." You smiled around him.

When you heard another moan, you pulled off of Pope with a pop, working your hand down his length while you talked. "Pope?" You asked. "Is JJ jacking off behind you?"

Pope nodded.

"JJ?"

"Yeah, sunshine?" JJ's small voice sounded from behind Pope.

"Don't you dare finish yourself off."

"Jesus Christ," JJ groaned. "Don't go saying shit like that and expect me not to cum, that's no fair."

You chuckled. "Well, I'm just saying, JJ, if you don't want me to touch you, by all means, make yourself cum."

"Fuck, alright."

With that confirmation, you sank back down onto Pope. "Oh fuck, Y/n, please keep going. I'm so close." Pope's breathing was getting erratic. You picked up your pace until Pope's fingers tightened in your hair. "Fuck," Pope moaned out as he came.

Slowly, you moved your hand along him, coaxing him through his orgasm. You swallowed his load and then kitten licked his tip until he was completely fucked out.

"Holy shit, Y/n, that was fucking fantastic," Pope panted. Pope pulled you up onto the bed again and kissed you deeply.

"Wow," the word left you involuntarily.

"Yeah..." Pope smiled. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I think JJ's about to combust."

You chuckled. "How about we fix that, huh?" You rolled over on the bed so you were facing JJ. "You wanna come over here?"

He nodded eagerly as he scooted closer to you. You nestled yourself in between his legs. "Fuck, you're gorgeous... Can't wait to taste you."

JJ's head fell back onto the mattress. "You're trying to kill me, right, that's what's happening here? Oh, fuck!" You couldn't wait any longer, so you wrapped your tongue around JJ's head instead.

JJ sat up on his arms, taking in your every movement. You worked him slowly, teasing him until he was panting shallowly. You stopped rubbing his base with your hand, digging your fingers into his thighs as you took all of him.

Instantly, JJ's hand fisted your hair, his hips bucking into you.

You looked up at him through your lashes, devious smirk on your lips as your nose brushed against his stomach. You pulled back slightly.

"You want to fuck my face, don't you?" You smirked.

"I..." JJ seemed flustered, guilty almost.

"Go on then," you winked.

JJ's hips jutted into action, slowly, torn between keeping his composure and giving into his desire. His fingers were tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he bucked his hips up into you. He rolled his hips over and over again, but his pace was still so incredibly measured. You could see the tense muscles in his thighs.

You cast your eyes upwards, instantly being met with his. You smiled and gave him a reassuring nod, silently begging him to let himself go.

Finally, JJ seemed to flip a switch. He picked up his pace, bucking into you faster. You were soon salivating around him as he occupied your throat. He bobbed your head to match his pace, his thumb softly caressing your cheek.

After just a minute, JJ was letting out the most gorgeous little moans, a string of lewd, uninhibited, guttural sounds that he couldn't hold back if he tried. His hips started faltering, his breathing rapid and shallow.

"Fuck, Y/n, you feel so fucking good," JJ whined. " 'm so close..." His hips jerked desperately, chasing his high.

Suddenly, he held your head still, pushing his hips up as far as they would go. He came into your mouth, holding your gaze as he did.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" He pulled you up after his orgasm had crashed through him, holding you close to him and kissing you so fondly your head spun. "That was fucking incredible. You're fucking incredible."

"I think we've proven today that we're all pretty damn incredible."

You reached out for Pope, pulling him down on the other side of you.

"I still can't believe you made me cum," you said after a while.

JJ smiled cockily. "I knew I would. Best skills on the cut."

God, he was gonna lord this over you forever...

"Well, I don't know, JJ, maybe it's just really not that hard when I've got someone else to occupy my mind with. Guess Pope's gotta try it next time, then we'll know for sure."

Pope's breath quickened in your ear. "Next time?"

You shrugged. "Figured we can't uncross this line, might as well take advantage. If you guys want to, that is," you added hastily.

The way Pope whispered 'of course' in your ear had you clenching your legs again, starting to imagine exactly what that next time might look like.

"We will forever be at your service, ma'am," JJ grinned.

"Ma'am, huh?" You repeated suggestively, "don't mind if I do..."

JJ's smile dropped into his throat. "Seriously?"

You looked between the two of them, hanging on your lips, practically salivating at the thought and you shook your head laughing.

"Jesus Christ, I'm kidding!"

Both boys instantly deflated.

"Tease," JJ hit you with a pillow.

You shrugged, a pensive look crossing your face. "Then again..."

[lady-ashfade]

Abed

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ team green x hateful reader (slight Aegon x reader)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ dabble.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: reader hates cole so bad, uncanon events, targ-cest, had a thought for days and made it, team green defenders don’t come after me- because I’m not on their side doesn’t mean I am a bad person, or hate you. I understand you💜🫵

“I was abed, your Grace.”

Spinning your finger around the cup as Aegon questioned the man you hated for years and his response made a laugh rumble from your throat. Silent sweeps the room and all eyes turn to you while it goes unnoticed by yourself from the thoughts in your head. Mourning wasn’t a word to describe what you felt, anger and madness perhaps are the best words to use.

Aegon stepped back and glanced curiously at you while caught in a daze, “Sister?” his calling is enough to snap out of it. As his eyes found yours it was clear the single thread behind his eyes began to snap, “Care to share what is a jest to you at a moment like this?” all watch as he walks across the table.

“While my son is dead?” he stopped before you.

Alicent knew the hatred for Cole runs throughout your blood. Ever since you were a child you refused to listen to him, mocked him, even tried to stab him in training. Some of that hate was also for her as well but you loved her enough. Though, the way you looked at both of them with a sly smirk of what you had witnessed a few weeks before put it through doubt.

“I am just tickled, by the person who is really at fault her brother. Aegon you of course took the knights and some men to entertain last night, but I am sure there were more when I left helaens room last night?” fulling playing with them as you lean back in the chair, “If I recall our mothers hall happened to have all guards dismissed last night.”

Alicent looked frightened and wanted to beg you to keep silent as the men look at her, Cole by her side in disbelief. “Ser Criston Cole said he was abed,” looking into the dark haired mans eyes, you feel a power wash over you unlike anything you have felt. “But he did not say where.”

Aegon looked at the man who helped raise him and his jaw tighten, “tell the truth,” taking a deep breath before slamming his hands down onto the table, “Now.” He shouted and made all except you flinch.

“Forgive me, but the princess has no idea what-” pushing the chair out from beneath your legs in a haste movement and grabbing hold of the handle of your sword.

“He was bedding our mother,” the looks of shock are louder then words could say. leaning closer to your older brother, “he left his post at your child’s bed. But clearly what’s in between our mothers legs is more important.”

“That is enough,” Alicent raised up and looked at both of you in tearful eyes, “I am to blame. Punish me, we meant non of this to happen.”

“Is it true.”aegons head starts to shake, his eyes darkening.

One simple nod and cry from his mother and that’s all he needed and rushed forward to cole and start to shout and punch him. Of course cole is more skilled and managed to slip away. And as much as you enjoy some action be taking against him, you had to stop it.

“Strip him of his power, his armor but don’t kill him,” Aegon alway had a soft spot for you because you understood him, played along to his ways. “Let me handle him, and let our mother go unharmed.” Raising a hand to his cheek you stroke the skin, he was so easy to manipulate.

“He is yours, sister. Punish him however you see fit.”

I really hate coke so much. Like if i could just skip to his death i would, i couldn’t care about anything else. Idk if you are mad at that, he just pisses me off.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 9 - Next

You banged on the door of the room where that man was locked up, waking him up abruptly.

"Let's talk"

Jimmy: "I thought visiting hours were over."

He complained, turning around to turn his back to the door.

"Don't try to be funny with me, Jimmy. What the hell did we do to deserve so much hate from you?"

Jimmy: "Don't play innocent, you know very well what you did!"

"Honestly, I have no idea! That's why I'm asking you!"

Jimmy: "Of course, because I was always the shadow of your dear husband. You never turned to look at me again after you got with him, you never smiled at me like you did with him, you didn't even speak to me. It was as if I were invisible to you!"

"Oh, of course I was looking at you!"

Jimmy: "Then why didn't you ever tell me anything?!"

He shouted that, getting up from his bed to head towards the glass that separated them, watching your face to see you when you replied.

"BECAUSE I'VE ALWAYS HATED YOU!"

You screamed with all your lungs, to the point of making your throat hurt.

"You always brought trouble to Curly! He was always so naive, a sucker for approval, of being the good guy in the story, of not letting anyone down! That's why he never abandoned you! I knew better that's why i stopped talking with you! Because you were and are a piece of shit!" 

Jimmy: "Oh, but you talk as if I were the only fucked up one in the story."

"Yes! I admit it! I was also a mess when I met Curly, but I did something, I was able to see beyond that mess I was, he showed me that I could improve, he gave me opportunities that I knew how to take advantage of and become a better person! In someone who could make his mother proud instead of making her cry because she didn't know if he was coming home or not!"

There was a silence when you finished saying that, until you saw him smirk, that reaction you didn't like at all.

Jimmy: "You're right, Curly loves to please, you should know that very well."

"Ugh, for the love of God, I don't know why I try to reason with you, it's impossible."

Jimmy: "But you were the only one who refused to give in to make me happy."

You opened your eyes wide upon hearing that, turning again to the man who still wore that smug smile.

Jimmy: "Just as beautiful and messed up as I am, I thought you would understand me, but then you became a good girl, yet I still hoped you would look at me..."

"Shut up-"

Jimmy: "Oh, and the damn way Curly talked about you, how incredible you are, so kind, hardworking, so beautiful."

"I tell you to shut up-"

Jimmy: "Those lovely moles in the center of your chest that look like a constellation"

"He wouldn't talk about those things with you!"

Jimmy: "I saw it myself"

You felt like you were going to puke at that moment, you didn't want to believe that he had really done something like that to you while you were unconscious, you didn't want your suspicions to be confirmed, you refused to believe it.

"Liar. Anya wouldn't leave me alone, she would lock the nursery door-" 

Jimmy: "Yes, yes, she did that, it was a pain in the ass. Every night when she went to sleep, she locked the nursery with that code that only Curly and she knew... But that place wasn't closed while someone was inside."

"She wouldn't let you get close to me!"

Jimmy: "They were so sweet, Anya staying by your side saying she had to make sure all your signs were okay, and when she left, she would ask Swansea if he could keep an eye on you. But he was so depressed that he didn't dare to stay with you for long, so... I took his place to make sure you were okay."

"In front of Curly..."

You murmured at having to imagine the scene your husband had to witness without being able to do anything about it other than watch.

Jimmy: "That was the funniest thing"

You hugged tightly, feeling a horrible tingling all over your body, as if you were dirty.

Jimmy: "Swansea had no idea about anything, Anya didn't want to talk about it with anyone else. Thanks to her silence, I was able to finally look at that body that you always hide from me, thanks to Swansea's stupidity and feeling sad for his little captain, feeling all guilty and shit."

Swansea: "What did he just say..." 

You turned to see Swansea at the end of the hallway, carrying Jimmy's rations, holding an axe firmly in the other hand; he had managed to hear everything.

"Swansea-"

Swansea: "Open the door, captain"

"Listen - it's not worth it, do you have any idea what they'll do to you if they find out you hurt someone from the crew? Please, I don't want them to lock you up." 

You said immediately, positioning yourself in front of him, trying to get him to see you, but his eyes were glued to the door where he could see Jimmy's face.

Swansea: "How are they going to know? Let's say it was an accident. Open the door!"

You wanted to keep reasoning with him, but you couldn't deny that you also wished he would face consequences for his actions.

You took the axe from his hands, making him look at you annoyed.

"I won't take the risk of you killing him."

Those were your last words before opening the door, Swansea didn't take much more than a few seconds to fully open the door, step inside, and throw himself at Jimmy.

You could hear the sound of the blows, the insults, and the screams.

You stood at the door wide open, axe in hand, watching as the blood spread across the floor with each blow Swansea dealt.

You watched Jimmy and tilted your head, waiting for him to defend himself.

You wouldn't hesitate to cut off his hands if he touched Swansea.

[westside-rot]

Talk To Me Nice

Pairing: Terry Richmond X Black reader

No warnings for this one. Hopefully there aren't too many errors cuz it's only lightly edited. I'm trying to squeeze in my last post of the year lol

This little idea is the result of a writing prompt and @megamindsecretlair keeping me honest about writing something every day. Figured I'd share the results with whoever else wants to check it out.

“That’s a bit harsh my love…”

After spending the last 20 minutes filling your home with negative energy you expected reciprocation.  Instead you were being derailed with a new form of gaslighting, the kind reserved for evolved men who appeared harmless on the surface but harbored a petty side few got to see. Though impressive, you knew Terry was only using kind words to paint himself the victim. It didn’t matter how many steps ahead you thought you were. The guilt still hit with the same bruising force.

Six months of newlywed bliss cruelly interrupted by disappointment you never wanted to feel so early into your marriage. Perhaps there was a better way to convey that hurt to your husband. Maybe sitting him down for a mature conversation would’ve spared you from the growing pressure around your temples and the rawness in your throat from all the yelling you’d been doing. You were convinced the window for apologies and grand romantic gestures had closed. He'd started it. You were damn sure going to finish it.

You pushed through your doubts and committed to your frustrations with arms folded tightly across your chest, the initial urge to roll your eyes shifting to a hard, resolute stare. “Well Terrence sometimes harsh is necessary.”

He scratched his beard and nodded as though you’d just agreed on what to have for dinner. Silence took over the room once again, intensifying the conflict between you. His eyes never broke contact.

“Are you done?” From anyone else the question would’ve triggered your inner toxic and possibly resulted in the police being called. But there was note of calmness in your husband’s voice that exonerated him from the accusation before it became your new truth. Terry wasn’t being dismissive. He was simply better at regulating his emotions.  His inability to stop wringing his hands together revealed the stress hidden within. For a second time you were forced to ignore your guilt for the sake of winning. Mirroring his casual demeanor, you continued to stand firm and prepared for whatever he intended to say next.

“I must’ve imagined sitting in premarital counseling for all those weeks. Or maybe I was the only one taking it seriously. That must be it 'cause at the first sign of a problem you’ve broken every promise we made to each other.” His words landed direct hits on your conscience. Everything holding you together began to cave under the weight of his response. Terry wasn’t wrong. Instinctively, you went into defense mode anyway.  

“That’s not fai—”

“Nah, you’re not about to interrupt me. I let you speak. You’ll show me the same respect. Understand?” The natural base in his voice instantly got your attention. Yes sir rang so clearly in your mind you weren’t entirely convinced you hadn’t said it out loud. You prayed Terry couldn’t somehow feel the lust pulsing alongside everything else flooding your system. One day soon under normal circumstances you were going to explore his newfound aggressive side. How, you weren’t entirely sure. With a new goal seared into your brain and soaked through panties clinging to your ass you managed to retain a sense of dignity as you obeyed your husband’s command. 

“You’re my wife. One day you’ll be the mother of our children. I refuse to let them hear us talking crazy to each other, so I’m gonna need you to find a better way to communicate your feelings. If I need to sign us back up for therapy I will but this shit ends tonight.”

All the fight drained from your body. Shame took its place. In its presence you were finally able to recall those important conversations leading up to your wedding, the dreams you shared, the legacy you wanted to create. If not for your anger you could have revisited them sooner and found a better use for them. Now you were facing an evening apart, perhaps more depending on how long Terry held on to a grudge.

All you could do was stare at the ground and wait for it to be over with. Hopefully you’d find a way to sleep knowing you had failed your first test as a wife. When your lip started to quiver you promptly bit down on it to keep your hurt feelings in check.  You hadn’t behaved in a way deserving of care but when Terry's long fingers reached out to palm the side of your face you sought out his warmth like a needy kitten.

“Now you’re breaking my heart.”

“I can’t help it. Did you have to be so mean?” Though you found your ability to speak you burrowed your pout lips further into his hand. The loudest person in the room didn’t deserve to cry. If you were lucky you'd disappear and rematerialize tomorrow with more sense.

“It got your attention. Besides, I thought harsh was necessary. Or does that only apply when you’re cursing me out?” He chuckled.  You weren’t persuaded by the playfulness in his voice to look up. Terry initiated the gesture with fingers affectionately placed beneath your chin. It wasn’t lost on you that he'd repositioned your face at the same proud angle you held while lecturing him as if two nights apart somehow equated to years of neglect. You wanted to look away but soon discovered his eyes remained steadfast and beautiful in the aftermath of the storm you’d caused. They connected with your soul in an instant providing a gentle assurance that you were safe with him.

 The words flowed through your upturned lips effortlessly. “I’m sorry baby. You didn’t deserve all those ugly things I said to you.” Before you could say more he captured your face in both hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re already forgiven my love.” Terry’s lips grazed yours as he spoke. The distance was torture. Finally, after what felt like an unbearably long time, he covered your mouth with his, reestablishing his dominance with a tenderness that sets your heart and mind at ease.  It was a proper reconciliation, but it also wasn’t enough. Not after the way you behaved tonight.

You treated the sincerity on his lips as your own personal buffet. When it became difficult to breathe you pulled away to regain control over the situation.  “I still have a lot to make up for.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he pushed the curls back from your face. “We both do. Your approach needs some work, but you had a right to be upset with me.” You nodded and yet nothing in you wanted to celebrate the vindication. You were simply relieved to know you hadn’t caused any irrevocable damage by overreacting. Even more relieved to see him smiling again.  "I think my beautiful and extremely childish wife should get the honor of going first.”

The frown you attempted to hold cracked under the pressure of his wide grin. You hate being teased. You were also guilty on all counts and willing to take your punishment. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“It’s very fair.” He mumbled between prolonged kisses down your neck.

You exhaled and curved your fingers over his broad shoulders. It was becoming harder to think or even breathe with him sucking everywhere his lips could reach. “Can we talk it out like grown-ups tomorrow?”

“Of course, baby. It's mandatory from now on.” When he spoke the guttural quality possessing his voice registered deep in the places he’s yet to touch. You felt painfully empty but knew you wouldn’t stay that way for long. At the rate his lips were moving you weren’t convinced you'd make it past the couch. You preferred the comfort of your king-sized bed the scene of your crime was a fitting place for getting down on your knees to make proper use of your mouth.

Terry surprised you when he broke the suction on your collarbone to reunite at eye level. There was a noticeable glint of mischief in his eyes before he bent down to throw you over his shoulder. You squealed and braced a hand at the center of his back for support you really didn't need.

"You better not drop me trying to be cute!"

"I was planning on letting you off easy tonight. Now I'm thinking your apology needs to be as loud as all that shit you've been talking."

"Yes daddy. Remind me what all these big strong muscles are really for. Also, please send help!"

With a single act you reclaim the home you’ve built, your gasps and combined laughter echoing along the walls as he carried you upstairs.