#the worst part is that it was fine until i decided to take a break for a day

[anuphim]

my wrist being in a lot of pain is Not a good sign right before artfight

[katiascraft]

"Tryna feel it like a compliment? It's feeling like the opposite" | LN4

Parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: you go to a mutual friend's birthday party. You and Lando broke up a few months ago. He has a new girl and she looks nothing like you.

PART 2 -> "SUE ME"

Word count: +1,7k.

Now playing: "Opposite" by Sabrina Carpenter.

Warnings: angst. Not a native english speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

a/n: hey again :3 Dont forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you’re ready to go y/n? We can stay otherwise. No pressure my love” your best friend said lovingly to you.

The both of you were invited to a friend’s birthday party. Both of you are already dressed up and beautiful. The thing was that Lando was also going to the party too. And that was nerve breaking for you.

You haven’t seen Lando in months. Exactly 5 months since you both decided to end the 2 year relationship you’ve built. It was the worst break up you’ve ever gone through. And you’re not even over him yet. And to be honest it was more his devotion than yours. That hurt like hell.

He said he didn’t love you anymore and there was no point in pushing something that was already off. You still have nightmares of him saying that. Nothing hurt you more than that moment. Those words. His lips said it. His eyes looked straight through you - seeing you breaking as each letter he pronounced.

You didn’t think you were ready to see him again. But at the same time you needed to see him. It was sort of a test you wanted to put yourself through. A self destructive one. You knew it was gonna be touchy but you also wished you could reconnect.

You nodded to your bestie. “I wanna go. If something goes wrong I’ll pay the taxi. Don’t worry” you said confidently. Even though you wanted to throw up already because of the anxiety you were feeling. Your friend giggled a little. She gave you a confidence hug.

“You look incredible. If I were Lando I would choke with my drink and die” she joked to make you laugh. You did a little. But hearing his name shattered you inside. She took your hand que got out of her house.

The Uber drove fastly to the party. It was a busy London night but the party was going to be on the outsides of the city. Which in this case didn't help getting that fast to the party. But it was what it was. The two of you paid the Uber in cash and got out of the car.

The first people receiving you both at the party were clearly already drunk. You don’t see Lando yet and that made you think that maybe he didn’t come. Just the thought of it made you feel calmer. You followed your friend to where George and Carmen, his girlfriend, were dancing with the group of friends. even Lewis Hamilton was there. You say hi to everyone with a big smile and hugged all of them. You were starting to feel happy that Lando didn’t come. Or at least you wanted to convince yourself of that.

You didn't remember how many hours have passed since you got to the party and started drinking. You were dancing in the middle of the dance floor with an unknown guy you met on the bar. Everything was fine until you saw right behind the guy what you didn’t expect nor you didn’t want to believe you saw.

It was Lando. With another girl. Kissing. Like crazy.

You felt your heart skip a bit. Even you felt breathless. You stopped dancing in shock processing the view you had.

Your heart was shattering every second that passed by looking at him with another girl.

She looked nothing like you. Blonde shiny hair. Flawless face with big lips. You just couldn’t take it.

All the times he said you were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. He used to say that your looks didn’t compare to anyone. Yet there he was with the opposite of you. You felt so little in that room full of people. You thought the world was crumbling down while you saw him laughing with her. He even blushed nervously just how you made him feel back then.

You couldn’t move. You didn’t know how to continue your life properly. You were still so in love with him. He was the love of your life. You loved every single detail of him. You couldn’t stop dreaming of his eyes or about his laugh. You dream of being happily ever after with him. When you were together you thought you were end game. Nothing could break you. But then he stopped loving you.

He didn’t love you anymore.

Now he loves this girl.

Has he ever loved you? Did he tell the truth? Was he honest?

You woke from the trance because your friend came to rescue you with Carmen. They try to talk to you to check on you but in that instant you find Lando’s eyes looking straight to you. His smile disappeared when he saw you. And when that happened you just wanted to cry really bad. You tried to hold it together but you couldn’t. You couldn’t stare at him anymore. You couldn’t bear the pain you were feeling now.

You sprinted straight to the bathroom followed by your best friend and Carmen. You didn’t want to cause a scene but you couldn’t control your anxiety. You wanted to stop existen right there and then. You wanted to disappear. You felt ashamed.

How could you think he would love to be back with you? To the life you had together?

You were never the love of his life nor the woman of his dreams.

He looked happy, something you now know you couldn’t do.

Your friend tried to calm you down but you were just a waterfall of tears. Carmen tried to talk to you to make you feel better but you couldn’t listen. You just listen to all the negative thoughts that were eating you alive.

He stayed with you just to find someone who is the opposite to you. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was going on and on in your head making the scar grow bigger and bigger.

When you were back to reality you just hugged your best friend. You needed her. She knew all of your feelings. She has been there with you all along. Along with all of the pain you felt since Lando walked away. You have grieved your future self since then. You wanted a life with Lando. A life that now didn’t exist and would never exist.

After a few minutes you could calm yourself down. Carmen and your friend fixed your makeup and tried to make you feel better. But you just wanted to go home.

“I’ll call an Uber. I need to go home. I can’t stay” I said to my friend and she nodded.

“Of course. Don’t wanna see you like this. Everything it’s going to be okay. I’ll call it” she said softly and stroked your hair.

You all got out of the bathroom and Carmen helped to pick your stuff up. Your friend was trying to get an Uber. You were so nervous to be out again at the party and seeing him again. So Carmen suggested you go outside while your friend finds an Uber who accepts to take you home. You agreed and went outside.

Out there you found a bench available so you sat there and started scrolling your Twitter on your phone. After a while you felt someone sitting next to you. When you looked up it was Lando. You felt terrible. He smiled a little.

“Hey… you okay?” He asked quietly. He looked nervous. You two were. The tension was high between you both. You feel uncomfortable. You’ve never felt like that with him around before. That made your heart break again. You swallow hard.

“Yeah…” you said shortly. He nodded looking around avoiding your sight. You breathe heavily. He licked his lips.

“You look beautiful” he said, finally looking at you. You just stared at the ground. Was he for real? He is with another girl looking so different and he has the audacity to call me beautiful? You felt angry. You were so hurt and he was making it worse.

You looked at him with no facial expressions. “How can you say that to me when you’re dating her?” The words left your mouth without thought. But you didn’t feel bad about it. His face showed how surprised he felt by your question. “Don’t look at me like that, Lando. What’s your intention coming here and calling me beautiful when you already have another girl and she looks the opposite to me? Go fuck yourself. You really don’t care about me. You never did. You wouldn’t be here if you would” you were furious. so hurt. You needed to scream at him but controlled your tone just because the situation it’s not where that should happen. His eyes went wide.

“Y/n I don’t know what you are talking about! Yes I’m dating another girl so? You are beautiful to me I just wanted to talk to you” he said defensively. You rolled your eyes and stood up in front of him.

“I hate you. You are dead to me. What do you want to know about me? That I’m miserable since you said you didn’t love me anymore so you can be proud of yourself for breaking my heart? Or you wanted to pretend ya never happened? Go fuck yourself. My friend was right about you. You’re a fucking player. I should’ve listened to them. So I wouldn’t be this fucking broken. Hope you’re happy Lando.” You said having enough of this. You felt very offended by his attempt of you didn’t know what. When you stormed out you bumped into his new girl and spilled her drink all over her shiny silver dress.

“Sorry not sorry” you said to her not caring a fuck about her or her dress or her night. He replaced you so easily. You were blinded by hatred and pain. She told you something but you didn’t hear. You took your best friend and got her out of the party too.

“What happened?” She asked worried, finally finding an Uber who accepted to pick you both up. You sigh so stressed. Adrenaline was pushing hard on your veins.

“Lando talked to me and I just told him to fuck off” you said even surprising yourself for doing such thing.

“Oh shit” your best friend said.

——————————————————————————————

I really wanted Lando to win COTA 😭. Franco was so good though - love him!!!

Hope you liked it 💌 if you ideas my inbox is open so leave your requests!

[icreatemyownharem-blog]

Summary: You decided to try one interesting challenge.

Jason Todd x You. NSFW‼️ so careful; swearing. I didn't really describe your gender soo. Maaaybe I’m gonna write part 2, idk though.

It was a stupid idea. Very stupid. How did you even decide and think to try it? And worst of all, he agreed to it! Stupid challenge, stupid.

Sitting on Jason's lap, you bit your lip nervously, your hands clenched stubbornly in your lap, your breathing erratic and your eyes barely open, staring at the TV.

You look like a mess already, even though it hasn't been that long since the movie started. And the damned challenge.

"You look bothered." Jason grinned, putting his hands on your waist and casually moving his hips to get comfortable on the couch. "Is something bothering you, baby?"

You clenched your jaw. He's messing with you. And the fact that he's moving his hips doesn't save your very, very pathetic situation.

But you're not that easy either. You smiled at your thoughts, trying your best to put on the most innocent face possible, "No baby, I'm fine." And as you clenched around his cock, hearing the hiss coming from his lips, you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand in surprise, "Oh my God, you're okay? Are you in pain?"

Now Jason was in no mood for jokes. Well, neither of you.

He didn't want to agree to this so-called challenge. I mean, who in their right mind would wake up one morning and say, "Hey, how about a challenge where your partner sits on your dick for the entire movie and whoever can't hold back loses?" Fucking genius.

Teasing you though was definitely something he wanted to do, and so here he was, contemplating his life decisions. Restraining himself so fucking hard not to take you right there, fucking you silly until you stop thinking.

But watching you shiver with arousal but not being able to do anything about it was fucking hot. So, "Don't worry, let's keep watching the movie, mm?" he's willing to be patient for a while.

Break you so bad that you'll be begging to be taken. Taken by his cock that you love so much. Yeah, he can wait.

But can you?

[adripakoffee]

I don't post on here often and by that I mean I'm on here once a month to look at writing prompts but right now I'm thinking of Anya from Mouthwashing, and Tumblr is better for long form posts. Apologies if this rant isn't super clear, I'm on pain meds right now.

CW: S/A, SUICIDE, OVERDOSE, MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS

Anyway, Anya very well may be one of the most doomed characters to ever doom. Firstly she's trapped in a relatively small space ship with 4 men, who she has to keep alive and healthy along with giving them periodic mental wellness checks (which she, herself never gets). Two of these men don't take her seriously at all because she probably doesn't actually have a medical degree and is just someone the company hired to cut corners. If that wasn't all ready awful, the co-captain, Jimmy, has been assaulting her since at least the start of this voyage that's been going on for 100+ days. She falls pregnant because of this and while this isn't where her spiral started, this is where it gets worse. She originally plans to kill herself with the Captain's gun, but decides against it since she can't get to the gun without Curly's help anyway.

Speaking of Curly, he knows what's been going on, she told him about Jimmy a while before the crash. Every time, Curly says "I'll do something about it," or "I'll fix this," but the most he does is keep Jimmy away from Anya when they're working. Anya seems fine with that for the most part because I think she assumes Curly will report Jimmy and have him arrested when they land (he won't, at this point in the game he'd defend Jimmy for anything because "he sees the best in people. He loves to say "our worst moments don't define us" and apparently that extends to r@pe). So at this point, she's biding her time until they land.

Back to the gun, when Curly finds her holed up in the cockpit, she tells him she's pregnant. He's a little taken aback but he tries to reassure her that it's fine and he'll fix the "situation" with Jimmy. He says he can't let her kill herself because he does actually care about her. One of his flaws is he cares about everyone so much he can't imagine compromising one of them for any reason. Anya tells him she wasn't going to hurt herself, though she thought about it, she just hid the gun case so Jimmy couldn't kill her instead. She's so convinced Jimmy just wants to kill and torment her when the sad truth is, he couldn’t care less.

In all of Jimmy's "take responsibility" hallucinations, Anya barely shows up. Swansea, Curly, and Daisuke do, but he can't bring himself to even recognize what's happened to Anya is also solely his fault. He doesn't care at all.

Speaking of which, what seems the straw that breaks the camel's back for Jimmy is Anya telling him that she's pregnant because he crashes the ship pretty sure after. And this really seems like a spur of the moment action because if he'd planned this he could've done it much earlier after the news of the company closing reached them.

Curly says Anya should've waited for him to help her tell Jimmy about the pregnancy, but that doesn't matter because he is put out of commission like (I forgot if it's a day later or the same day) later because he's in the cockpit when the ship crashes.

Now Anya has no hope, Jimmy knows she's pregnant, the seemingly one line of defense she has against him can't leave his bed, and they're stuck in space. She's terrified because not only because of that, but because Jimmy is captain now and because of the way the ship is set up, you need the captain for a lot of things. Jimmy being captain also means if he finds the gun case, he now has the code to open it.

Anya, being the ships medic, is tasked with keeping Curly alive and giving him his meds. It's really difficult for her, A. because Curly is hard to look at, B. because unless he's full of pain meds, he's making noise, and C. because that was her friend and one of the only people she felt safe around and he's been reduced to this. And from her perspective, this is his fault, Curly crashed the ship.

This situation is stressful for everyone, Swansea has reverted back to alcoholism and never drops the ax he has, Daisuke is slowly losing hope and also starts drinking, and Jimmy won't stop yelling at her. He's so pissed at her the entire game, more so than everyone else. She was already scared of him but before there was at least a light at the end of the tunnel. Now there's nothing to look forward to because she doesn't think there's any way out.

She, at some point when he's sober enough, confides in Swansea who then tells her that she's gonna be the one to get out of here. He has the one last working cryo pod set aside for her specifically and refuses to let anyone into the room where it is. Unfortunately, at this point, her anxiety concerning Jimmy is so bad, she's convinced he'd do something to the pod too.

So then Anya locks herself in the med bay with Curly and all the rest of the ships medicine (- minus the Isopropyl which she probably left for Daisuke and Swansea) and overdoses by Curly's bed. Curly was awake the whole time she went through a probably painful death. She also, as maybe a final revenge, took the last of the pain meds that were meant for Curly. And she dies right next to him.

That's where her story ends. She felt so trapped and scared by her r@pist that got her pregnant that she killed herself next to the one person who could've done something, but instead, from her perspective, trapped her with said r@pist.

She died probably hoping that Daisuke or Swansea would make it out, not knowing they died soon after.

TLDR;

So from her perspective: A guy she's been friends with for years starts repeatedly assaulting her and she's stuck with him, then he gets her pregnant. Her other friend who she tells says he'll do something about it (he won't) and she has no choice but to trust him. Then the guy she told crashes the ship they're all on and fails in taking himself out. Now she's trapped with her r@pist and she tells someone else who does actually try to do something but she kills herself instead.

Anyways guys, I'm just missing my wife, the end.

[quintinh43]

Fucking Canada | Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke is out with an injury, Y/n is on break from school. Obviously, the only logical thing is for them to head down to Vancouver to visit Quinn.

Pairings: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Meantions of Anxiety, Drinking (drink responsibly kids), Some light suggestive content. Use of the name Mariana. Let me know if I missed anything!

Wc: 4.9k

This one's for @toasttt11, stay awesome 🫶🏼

---

Luke had been been out with an injury for a week. And it was driving him insane. He had begged and begged the trainers to at least allow him on the ice with the team. He'd batted his long eyelashes and given them puppy dog eyes and the famous Hughes pout, yet somehow they resisted and firmly told him he was not to touch a pair of skates until after his two-week check up.

And that was only if his check-up came back all ok. So in his boredom, he flew down to Michigan to spend time with you, and then decided that as soon as your break started he was flying both of you down to Vancouver for the week, because fuck he missed his big brother.

He rolled his wrist around in its brace, and you smack him in the chest. "Stop doing that. You're gonna aggravate your wrist and make it worse."

"Baby, I swear its fine," he whined, "The trainers don't know what they're talking about."

You snort, and grab his arm, pinning it beneath your torso, being careful to ensure that the strained part of his wrist was not under you.

"Baby, please," he whined, tugging his arm gently. "Let me up,"

"Only if you promise to stop rolling your wrist." You glare.

"I promise" Luke mumbles shifting towards you to run his lips along your jaw. Your stomach flutters, pink dusts across your cheeks, and you let him go immediately. He leans on his elbows and kisses down your neck.

"Luke" you whisper breathlessly.

"Hmm" he hums, nipping at the sensitive skin along the column of your troat.

You bite your lip, debating telling him off. But kissing Luke is much much better than studying physiology, and you haven't had a break in a while. You slam your textbook shut, and all but kick it off the bed.

"You're such a menace," you huff, he wraps his uninjured arm around you, and drags himself fully on top of you, kissing gently down your neck.

"You know you love me," he grins.

"You're lucky I do, Hughes. Now get back to kissing me,"

"Yes ma'am," he chuckles, lips dancing along your collarbones.

There's a knock on your door and before you can tell whoever it is to fuck off, your roommate and best university friend; Mariana barges in.

"Enough sexy time, kids!" she says, ignoring the murderous glares both you and Luke throw her way, "If you still want a ride to the airport, we are leaving in ten." She walks out, leaving the door open. You sigh, nudging Luke with your shoulder, to get off of you. He pecks one last kiss to your cheek and rolls off you, pulling you to your feet so the two of you can get all your things together.

You slide your laptop into your bag, grab all your chargers, and make sure you have an extra set of headphones. Because God knows the worst thing that could possibly happen is being stuck on an airplane with no muisc. After double and triple checking that you have everything, Mariana ushers you out the door hurriedly.

The ride to the airport is nothing special. You and Mariana sit in the front while Luke is banished to the back. You stretch an arm back to hold his hand, and he leans his head on your seat to be closer to you.

"Have fun in Vancouver Babe," Mariana says giving you a tight parting hug, and kiss on the cheek.

"Better take care of my girl Hughes, or I'm coming for that other wrist" She threatens, giving Luke a hug. Luke laughs, patting Mariana's back.

"You know it, Mari," he grins, winking at you.

"Text me when you land, ok?" She says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I will. Thanks for the ride, Mar." You hive her one last squeeze goodbye and take Luke's hand as you head through the airport.

Everything goes smoothly, thank God, and soon you and Luke are boarded the plane. It's a fight over who takes the window seat. You think Luke should have it cause he has longer legs, and Luke thinks you should have it because you deserve the best seat.

After convincing Luke that as long as you're sitting beside him, you do have the best seat, he reluctantly takes the window seat. And makes sure to tell you that if you want to switch at any time, just tell him.

You nod, knowing that you absolutely won't be doing that, but what Luke doesn't know won't hurt him.  You're set to arrive just before Quinn's game tonight, which means that the two of you won't get to see him until later. After going through your mental checklist, making sure everything is organized, you stick your headphones in and rest your head on Luke's shoulder and promptly pass out.

Luke is shaking you awake gently when it's time to get off the plane. "Wake up, Baby, it's time to get going," he says softly.

You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, "Alright lets go,"

You grab all of yours and Lukes belongings from the overhead compartment, much to his dismay. "Baby, let me help,"

"Luke Warren, I swear if you touch any of this luggage with that wrist, I'll chop it off," you say sternly. You hand him his backpack, and he slings it over his shoulder with a pout.

You grab his injured hand gently, lacing your fingers together as best as you can with his brace on, and head off the plane. As you step into the Uber, both your phones buzz with a text from Quinn.

Q: I left a key for you guys with the front desk, Luke just has to show some ID.

Q: You guys are coming to the game right?

Luke: Yep, excited to see you Q

You: Were just heading to your place now, to get settled and then we're on our way. See you soon!

Q: Excited to see you guys too.

You arrive at his apartment, and Luke shows his ID to the front desk, and they hand over the key. Quinn's apartment is nice, but it's so clean. It looks like a place out of a modern decor magazine, except for the photos of his family scattered here and there.

There's a two jerseys folded neatly on the bed with a sticky note that says 'Don't be a little bitch' on top. "Nope" Luke says as he immediately lays eyes on it, "I'm not wearing that, nither are you."

You roll your eyes at him, but don't argue. It makes sense that he wouldn't wear it. Players have a thing about not wearing another franchises merchandise. He unzips his suitcase and pulls out two black hoodies with white stitching that says Hughes 43 on the back. Except if you look carefully, the devils logo is stitched on the sleeve.

You shake your head with a smile and take the hoodie from him. "Let me just change into something better, and we'll head out."

Luke nods, digging around for a pair of jeans for himself.  The two of you make quick work of changing, and then you're on your way to the game. Quinn, smartly left the tickets under your name, lest someone spill the beans that Luke Hughes is in Vancouver to watch his brother play.

Your seats are right by the glass. When Quinn notices you, he skates over, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Bitches" he mouths with a smile, as he takes in the lack of Canuck blue in your outfits.

You grin and flash him a heart with your fingers while Luke flips him off, making sure he can see the devils logo on the sleeve. Quinn shakes his head at Luke and skates off to finish warm-ups.

Thankfully, no one really takes note of the interaction. Luke has a cap pulled low, so unless someone is really looking for Luke Hughes, then he shouldn't be recognized. The atmosphere is electric. Canadian hockey really hits differently.

The game is nerve-wracking, and for most of it, you and Luke are on the edges of your seats, grabbing at eachother hands, and slapping eachothers knees in excitement whenever something particular exciting happens. And when Quinn picks up a goal, the two of you are jumping and screaming.

The game ends with a canuck win, and as you two make your way down to the locker room to greet Quinn, you're chattering excitedly about all the good plays that were made. Especially Quinn's. He picked up a goal and three assists, making him the top point scorer of the game.

As he walks out of the locker room, he can't keep the smile off his face as he lands eyes on you and Luke. As much as he doesn't mind being on his own, seeing his family is always the best. You've been around the Hughes boys since you were growing up. From Toronto to Michigan. Your family's were really close and still are to this day.

He pulls you into a hug first, "Good to see you Y/n" he says, patting you on the back.

He goes to hug Luke, and in true brotherly fashion, he can't help but make a jab at him as does so. "I swear to God, you get taller every time I see you." Rather than standing on his tip toes to throw his arms around Lukes neck, he hooks his ankle around the back of Luke's knee and Luke's knees buckle.

Quinn catches him in a hug before he can hit the floor. You and Quinn are laughing, while Luke grumbles. He snatches Quinns hat off his head, making his hair stick up in every which way and holds it as high as he can. Quinn rolls his eyes, not taking the bait, and starts to walk.

Luke huffs and throws his hat back at him. "How did y'all get here?"

"Uber," you say, throwing an arm around Luke's waist as you walk. He drapes his arm around your shoulder, fingers brushing patters against your shoulder.

"The team is going out to celebrate. Do you guys wanna join, or do you want a ride home first?"

"Well, come with," Luke smiles, "Good game, dude, you made some nasty moves."

Pink dusts Quinn's cheeks, and he changes the conversation. "How's the wrist?"

Luke rolls his eyes, and before he can roll his wrist, you glare at him. "It's completely fucking fine."

"It's not" you say

"The trainers don't know what they are talking about." He mutters.

"They do" You add poking luke in the side.

Quinn scoffs, "Yes, im sure the people whose literal job it is to treat your injures don't know what they are talking about."

Luke pouts, "I can't believe my girl and my brother are ganging up on me like this,"

"Well, maybe if you weren't so stubborn." You and Quinn say simultaneously, looking at each other with a grin.

Luke grumbles unintelligiblly and Quinn throws his bags in this trunk. Luke takes the front seat, and this time, he's the one reaching his arm back to hold your hand. You smile, lacing your fingers together. Quinn rolls the eyes at the two of you with a smile.

The drive to the bar is filled with the light chatter of the three of you catching up about life. Unsurprisingly, Quinn has nothing interesting happening in his love life. The man eats, breathes, sleeps, and lives hockey. Luke teases him about becoming an old spinster while he glances at you lovingly. No doubt envisioning the magnificence that your lives will be together.

The bar is absolutely packed. Not surprisingly. It's a Friday night and the Canucks won. Some of the team is already there, in a roped off Vip area. They wave Quin over urgently. He grabs your hand and you grab Luke's so as not to get separated in the crowd of drunk people.

Quinn greets his teammates with hugs and back slaps and inside jokes. Some of them grin at you and Luke, wiggling their eyebrows at you and dragging Luke into hugs.

"So why are Mr. And Mrs. Huggy Jr. Here?" Brock asks, swirling the liquid in his glass.

Luke smiles at that, tracing his finger over the back of your left ring finger. "Luke is out injured, and I'm on a break from school," you shrug, playing with Luke's hand in yours.

"I'm going to get a refill," Luke hums, kissing the tip of your ear as he detangles himself from you, "want anything?"

"I'm good for now, baby," you say, kissing him on the cheek. When you turn back to the guys, they are all leaning close to you, batting their eyelashes like a group of High-school girls waiting to hear the latest drama about your crush.

Petey is the first to speak, "So when is he proposing?"

Millsy slaps him in the back of the head, "How is she supposed to know when he's proposing dumbass?"

"That man is so fucking whipped for you," Brock smirks, and you can't help the blush that colours your cheeks.

"You guys will have some cute babiess," Garland grins, just the slightest bit tipsy.

"Alright, alright, leave her alone. That's my sister-in-law you're bullying" Quinn says, coming to your rescue. He throws an arm around your shoulders, squeezing gently.

"You ok?" He asks quietly, the guys already forgetting the previous topic of conversation.

"Yeah, thanks Quinn," you smile, squeezing his hand back.

"Well, I'm absolutely beat, so I'm gonna go home. Do y'all wanna stay, or are you ready to head home?"

"We'll stay I think, me and Lukey are having fun, and I have yet to drag him to the dance floor. Are you ok to drive home?"

"Yeah, I haven't been drinking," Quinn says, smiling softly at your concern for him. "Sorry to leave y'all hanging."

"Don't worry about it, Quinn, we'll see you tomorrow. You played a good game, go get lots of rest," you smile, wrapping him in a quick hug.

He hugs you back and turns to address the guys. "I'm heading out if anyone wants a ride," Before the sentence fully leaves his mouth, Petey is practically throwing himself at Quinn. He stumbles into the two of you, and you both reach out to make sure he doesn't eat the floor. "I drank too much," he mumbles.

You laugh, patting his back, as Quinn stabilizes him. "I'm making you do bag skates next practice," Quinn says with entirely too much joy, as he practically half carries Petey out of the bar.

With Quinn gone, you dip out of the Vip section to find Luke, you spot him sitting at the bar, cheeks flushed, empty shot glasses littered suspiciously close to him. He's holding another glass that looks like soda, and there's a girl leaning much to close to him. He's leaning back slowly, looking very unimpressed.

Until he spots you. His megawatt lady killer smile appears as he all but pushes the other girl out of the way, and practically sprints to you, as well as someone can sprint in a crowded bar. Your hands rest on his arms, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Luke, are you ok?" You ask concerned, eyes flitting across his face, "have you been drinking?"

"Y/n!" He is way too giddy to be sober, "I know we said, we weren't drinking, but then I was sad about my wrist and someone said that the alcohol would make me feel better, so drank a little teeny tiny shot, and then another one cause somone got me another one, and then this group of girls asked me if I wanted to do shots with them, and I was gonna say no, but then they already ordered the shots and then-"

You cut off his drunk rambling, your voice laced with concern. "Luke baby, do you remember how many shots you took?" You ask, the calmness of your voice not giving way to the absolutely disastrous thoughts swimming in your head.

"Four, I think!" He grins, trying to count the glasses that were littered on the bar top in front of where he was sitting. There were five. Your eyes widen almost comically. He was barely gone for half an hour. He took five shots of straight alcohol in less than half an hour. Fuck.

Now it wasn't as if Luke hadn't drank before, undoubtedly he had. But definitely not that amount of alcohol in that span of time. Plus, it wasnt really recommended for professional athletes to drink anyways, so the amount of alcohol he'd consumed since the beginning of the season probably didn't even equate the amount that he'd drank tonight alone. Double Fuck.

And on top of all of that, Quinn had already left. "My wrist feels so much better!" Luke says happily, "I can take off my brace!" As he reaches for straps on his brace, you grab his hand.

"Absolutely not Luke." You lace your fingers with his to keep him from taking off his brace while you try to figure out what to do. Before you know what's happening, there's another full shot glass in front of you, and Luke is knocking it back. Triple Fuck.

"It burns," he pouts, shaking his head like he just ate something sour.

"Luke, how did you even get alcohol? we're underage!" The disbelief is evident in your voice.

The bartender hears your statement and decides that he'd better clear up that misconception before he gets into some kond of trouble. "No ma'am," he says, leaning over the counter. "I checked his ID, says he's twenty, that's legal"

Suddenly, you are very pissed that the bartender is telling you how old your own boyfriend is. Just as you're about to snap at him for clearly not being able to to his job correctly, if he thinks twenty is legal, you remember that you're no longer in the States.

You're in Canada. Fucking Canada. Racking your brain, you try to recall the legal age in British Columbia. You feel so stupid. It's nineteen. Ninteen year olds are legally allowed to drink in B.C. Luke is twenty. Fuck fuck fucking fuckitty fuck.

Before you sprial into a full-on panic, you take a deep breath. Luke is drunk out of his mind, and he needs to get home now, and you panicking will not help the situation. You slap your card down on the bar top and tell the bartender to close Luke's tab.

You don't trust Luke to be left to his own devices, so you sling his arm around your shoulder and half drag him to where you left your phone and purse with Brock. You gently guide Luke to sit on one of the chairs. He does so shakily and wraps one arm around your chest, pulling you flush against his body.

His knees are squeezing your hips, his fingers are tracing over your collarbones, and his face is tucked against your neck.

"Woah! is Huggy Jr. drunk?" Brock asks, grinning madly as he hands you your phone and purse.

"In the span of time that he disappeared, he took six fucking shots" you grumble, as you order an Uber to get home.

Brock almsot chokes on his drink. He stares wide eyes, "oh so he's fucking blackout," he takes his phone and snaps a photo of you and Luke. The glare that you send him is so murderous that if looks could kill he'd be six feet under.

"Sorry," he shrugs with a shit eating grin that says he's not sorry at all, "I need some proof of this for when he wakes up hating his life tomorrow."

"Alright, well, at least send it to me." You grumble, Brock laughs, and your phone buzzes with a notification from him immediately after. "And hey, please don't tell Quinn anything right now. He's probably home and in bed by now, and I don't wanna stress him out unnecessarily."

Brock nods, "Don't worry, kid, my lips are sealed." He sighs like an older brother, "if I was sober, i'd be driving you home."

"Oh Brock, don't worry about it. You guys had great games, and you deserve to celebrate. We'll be fine, I promise," you smile. Your heart melts a little, you've only met the canucks a few times but from the instant that you did they treated you like family.

"Alright, alright, just let me know when you're home safe, I'll feel much better."

"You got it, Brocky," you smile, standing on your tip toes to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. Brock grins like a school boy who just got a kiss from his crush. Thankfully, drunk Luke doesn't decide to make an appearance. Otherwise, he might have absolutely decked Brock in the face.

Not that he would've succeeded, based on how drunk he is. You're almost sure he's fallen asleep. Until his lips start moving against your neck. Quadruple fuck. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud as he nips at your throat with so much care you'd think he was fully sober.

His fingers start to make patterns along your collarbones, dipping lower toward the curve of your breasts. You don't want him to stop.

"Luke," you whisper desperately, laying your head atop his gently.

His hum of response reverberates against your skin, and pleasure melts down your spine, stomach fluttering.

"Luke," you try again, voice strained as his teeth screen against the sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder, "not here baby, we're in public."

" 's go home" he murmers into your skin, "wanna fuck my pretty girl."

Your cheeks go red faster than you thought possible. What a time to find out Luke is a horny drunk.

"Luke," his name is a prayer on your lips. The fingers of his injured hand burn as they press into your waist.

" 'm starvin for you baby," he mumbles, the tips of his fingers brushing under the waistband of your jeans.

Heat coils in your stomach, and you bite your lip to keep a whimper from spilling from your lips. As if some Devine power is on your side, you get a notification that your Uber has arrived.

"Our ride is here." Your voice is practically a squeak.

"Want you to ride me." Luke says, and you can feel his lips turn up into a smirk against your skin. You have to cover your mouth with your hand. Luke chuckles darkly. "Pretty girl has to cover her mouth so everyone doesn't know what a dirty girl she is." he hums nosing at your neck. If you're here any longer, you might actually combust. You make sure you have everything because you can quite literally never return to this bar every again.

You help pull Luke out of his chair and drape one of his arms over your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his waist to keep him steady. "Gonna eat you up when we're alone," he mutters, his grin all teeth. He's so fucking beautiful it makes your troat go dry.

You're blushing like a school girl as you help him out of the bar. He's leaning most of his weight on you while he whispers dirty things in your ear. You're surprised that you even manage to get him out of the bar on your own, mainly because his comments are making you weak in the knees. And partially because he's a 6'2, 185-pound man.

You successfully get him into the backseat and give the driver Quinns address. Thank God he lives close. A ten minute drive at most. But unfortunately for you, it feels like hours.  Because Luke had been very perceptive as to how his advances were making you react and continues them with no mercy.

"So pretty f' me" he mumbles, hand trailing up your thigh, lips fluttering over your neck, "gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?"

"Not here, Luke," You whisper, grabbing his hand. You kiss the back of his knuckles and looks at you with such desire in his eyes it takes every ounce of self control not strip and let him fuck you in the back seat of this random car. Your eyes flick to the driver and you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, and say a prayer for forgiveness as your lips trail up his hand.

You close your lips over two of his fingers, and he groans, his head falling against your shoulder. "Gotta be quiet, baby," you murmer, squeezing his knee with one hand before closing your lips back over his fingers.

"m' quiet, m' quiet," he murmers against your neck. Then he's grinding his hips against yours, and there's a whimper caught in your throat. The car comes to a stop in front of Quinns building, and you are hopping out of the car like it's on fire and dragging Luke out behind you.

He stumbles into your back, an arm wrapping around your waist, his lips reattach to your neck, and you can't help the moan that slips out. As soon as the elevator door shuts, Luke pins you to the wall with a knee between your legs, and you drag him down for a desperate kiss.

He tastes like alcohol and cinnamon and home. And you never want to let him go. Then he's hissing with fire, a yearning, pleading fire as he grinds his hips against yours. All you want to do is let him have his way, but he's so so drunk. And no matter how many years the two of you have been dating, and how many times you've slept together, you made your decision way back at the bar that you wouldn't go further than kissing and grinding.

The elevator opens on Quinns floor, and the two of you stumble out. You pat your pockets for the keys to his apartment, and fuck- they aren't there. They must have gotten left in his car on the way to the bar.

You knock on the door nervously. One hand wrapped around Luke's waist, and the other braced against his chest. His uninjured hand is tracing up and down your side and in a way that makes it hard not to squirm as he places tender kisses along your jaw.

Quinn opens the door, looking oh so tired, a toothbrush hanging half out of his mouth. Clearly, he didn't expect you back so soon. His eyes go wide at the sight in front of him, and he resists the urge to gag, lest his toothbrush fall out of his mouth.

"Whad da fack!" He exclaims, spitting into the kitchen sink and closing the apartment door behind you. "Is he drunk?"

"Yes, just let me get him into bed, and I'll explain," you say urgently.

"Only going to bed if you're coming with me," he murmers, squeezing your hip, "need m' pretty girl."

"Do you have advil?" You ask Quinn, ignoring Luke's statement, Quinn wisely chooses not to comment as he grabs advil and a glass of water.

You deposit luke on the bed, huffing from his weight. He pulls you down with a smirk. "Wait, baby, let me get your clothes," you say quickly.

Luke wiggles his eyebrows and lets you undress him. You strip him of his jeans and t-shirt leaving him in his boxers. "Be good and drink this for me," you say, sliding the advil into his mouth.

"I'm good for you, baby," he mutters after he swallows.

"So good for me," you assured as he slipped under the blanket. As soon as his head hits the pillow, his eyes are fluttering. " 'm tir'd."

You stroke his hair back from his forehead softly. "I know, baby, I know,"

"Still want you," he pouted.

"I know, baby, and you'll have me tomorrow. It's sleep time now, ok?"

"Mm'kay," he mumbles, barely audible. You stroke his hair and mutter sweet nothings to him as he falls asleep. You change into a pair of sweats and one of Luke's devils' hoodies before shutting the bedroom door with a quiet click.

Quinn is sitting on the couch, with two mugs of steaming tea. You flop onto the couch, leaning your back against the armrest and tucking your feet under his legs. He hands you a mug of tea, and you take it gratefully, holding it close to your face and letting the steam warm you.

"So what the fuck happened?" Quinn questions.

"After you left, Luke still wasn't back and I went to find him, I don't know what really happened on his end, but he said he was sad about his wrist, and someone convinced him alchool would make it better." You sigh, taking a sip of your tea.

"Anyways, by the time I got him, he had had six shots in the span of a half hour."

Quinns eyes practically bulge out of his head. He looks like he's running calculations in his head, and his jaw drops. "I know," you grimace, "I'm sorry, I should've watched him better, I knew he wasn't happy about his wrist, and I let him -"

"How did he even get drinks?" Quinn asks, "He's not 21."

"Hush, Y/n, it's not your fault. He's a big boy he knows what he's doing." Quinn says softly, drawing you into his arms.

"Quinn, you don't feel bad either, ok?" You say softly knowing Quinn is beating himself up on the inside. He sighs, purses his lips and doesn't say anything for a long minute.

"It's Canada," you mutter like that explains everything. And to Quinn, it does explain it all.

"Fucking Canada" he mutters shaking his head.

---

Hi guys!! I was very excited while writing this, so I hope y'all like it. Comment comment comment! I love comments, I wanna hear all your thoughts! They always make my day a bit brighter.

On that note, I'm going on a bit of a writing break for a week-ish cause schools getting a bit busy with midterms and final papers and whatnot. I'll still be active, tho (unless i feel like it's distracting, then I might fall off the face of the earth for a bit).

Anyways, with that, I hope y'all have a lovely, lovely evening. Love Soph ♡

[bisexual-thoughtss]

Could you write a Tim Leflour story? Where he pledges to no sex, drugs, or alcohol and his girlfriend, the reader, is upset about the whole no sex thing so she gets on his nerves about little things like brushing his thigh during class, talking about hot guys in her class with some of her friends, and purposely wearing skimpy clothes to tick him off. He gets mad and breaks the no drugs rule by smoking a joint and the reader gets a call from Tim telling her to come to his dorm. Obviously, ✨jealousy smut✨.

Trying to write him less subby was a challenge for me!

Tim Laflour x Reader

Tim is nothing if not a little flighty when it comes to his interests. You want nothing more than to support Tim in whatever venture he dives headfirst into, and you do for the most part. Encouraging his better ideas, trying to steer him away from the not so good ones.

This one was the worst one, this pledge. But you supported him anyway, because if there’s one thing you know about Tim, it’s that he gets distracted easily. So you were certain he’d forget about it sooner rather than later.

But of course, much to your chagrin, this was the thing he followed through on. It’s been weeks, and you’re getting desperate. You’ve been trying to support him, but your own hand is just not enough anymore.

So you hatched a plan. You tried to be subtle, just little things here and there to rile him up, but this week has been hell, getting you even hornier while he seems unaffected.

On Monday, you went over to his place to watch a movie, cuddling up to him, sneaking your hand under his shirt to feel his muscles tense, throwing your leg over his hip as you laid next to him. Nothing.

The next day as you relaxed on campus with your friends, they discussed which guys they thought were hot lately. You lean against Tim on the grassy hill, listening to them bicker. Usually you didn’t have any input other than to tell one of them that they needed to have better standards, but not this time.

“What about Mikey?” You suggest, feeling Tim tense behind you. Mikey was one of his buddies on the hockey team. He’s alright looking, but you only suggest him because you know picking one of Tim’s teammates will drive him up the wall.

“Oh you’re right, he’s so hot!” One of your friends squeals and you laugh. You feel Tim huff quietly behind you and you crane your neck to look up at him.

“You okay?” You ask innocently.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles and you want to groan. No dice there either.

Wednesday you keep it simple. Today you and Tim have a lecture together, and you steer him towards the back of the hall once you get there. You spend most of the class with your hand innocently draped over his thigh, every once in a while moving high up his thigh to give a little squeeze. About half an hour into the lecture, you ‘accidentally’ drop your pencil.

“Whoops,” you mutter, leaning down to pick it up. You brace yourself against Tim’s thigh, nearly at his hip. He tenses as you search the floor, your breasts pressed against his leg as you lean down.

“Got it!” You whisper as you lean back up, your hand ‘slipping’ towards his inner thigh as you do. You give his leg a little squeeze and smile up at him before going back to taking notes. You can see him squirming in your periphery, but he still makes no moves when class ends.

By Thursday you want to scream in frustration. You’re going to hang out with him until he has to go to hockey practice, and you’ve decided that if you can’t make him give in, you’re at least going to get him as frustrated as you are. You pick a shirt that you know makes your boobs look good, and a little skater skirt to go with it.

“Hi,” you smile innocently when he opens the door for you.

“I- uh, hi,” he stutters as you come inside.

“Dinner? I brought some stuff for an easy meal before you go to practice,” you hold up the two grocery bags that he hadn’t noticed. Ever the gentleman, he takes them from you immediately, setting them on the counter for you. You bend over at the waist and rustle through the cabinet of pots and pans to grab the ones you want. You know he can see right up your skirt, getting the full view of your ass and the little lacy panties you’d chosen, so you take your time. When you re-emerge with them, Tim is standing motionless behind you, eyes wide.

“Can you fill this up with water?” You smile, handing him the larger pot. He nods wordlessly, moving to the sink in a trance.

You work in some more bending over as you cook, letting him get some good glimpses down your shirt as well.

You eat dinner like normal, throwing a random channel on the TV until it’s time for him to go. You use his thigh to push yourself off the couch, giving it a squeeze as you stand up. He gathers up his gear and walks with you downstairs.

You pull him into a kiss before you part ways, slipping him just enough tongue to make him look dazed when you pull away.

“Have a good time at practice,” you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you head home.

~

Unbeknownst to you, Tim had been flustered and frustrated all week. He’s had to take a cold shower everyday he’s seen you, and he’s not sure how much more their water bill can take. He’s at practice now, and it’s not going well either. He’s extra frustrated now and he’s taking it out on his teammates. After the second time he slams someone into the boards, coach screams at him to get off the ice. He flips his gloves off as soon as he exits the ice, yanking his helmet off after. Everything feels too hot and too tight on his oversensitive skin. He quickly unlaces his skates, stomping back to the locker room and chucks his gear back into his bag, hauling it over his shoulder.

Once he gets home he can’t stand it anymore, he has to relax. Digging around in his nightstand, he finally finds what he’s looking for. Victoriously, he pulls out his last joint and a lighter from the depths of the drawer. He settles in the chair in the living room before lighting up. He takes a couple drags, savoring the feeling of calm that washes over him in the next few minutes. It’s not long before he feels heat settling in his groin, his skin feeling extra sensitive against his clothes. He catches sight of the X on the back of his hand and scoffs. He goes over to the sink, vigorously scrubbing the marker off his hand. Once most of it is gone, he makes his decision to call you. He jogs over to the phone, quickly punching in your number.

~

His voice was raspy when you picked up the phone. All he’d said was “come over” and you were already out of your seat.

You make it over in record time, practically running up the stairs. When you open the door he’s in the living room chair, head tipped back against the wall with his eyes closed. The smell tips you off as to what he’s been up to.

“Tim?” You call and his head pops up. He smiles languidly at you, motioning you over.

“Missed you,” he makes grabby hands as he says it, making you laugh.

“What happened?” You ask, gesturing towards his hand that’s now devoid of the X. He doesn’t answer, opting instead to pull you into his lap. He nuzzles into your neck, his hands finding their way under the hem of your top to touch your flushed skin. You pick up the joint, holding it to his lips. He takes a drag before you put it back down in the ashtray and pull him towards you by his chin, inhaling as he blows the smoke into your mouth.

You feel fuzzy already, the intimacy only adding to the feeling. You take another drag directly from the joint, wiggling as close as you can get to Tim in the little arm chair.

He takes the joint from you, putting it back down before pulling you into a kiss. You melt into it immediately, as you’ve only gotten quick pecks for the past month. When he starts to push you away, you can’t hold back the whine you let out.

“Just wanna move to the bed,” he tells you, and you’re suddenly hopping off his lap, making him laugh.

You usher him into the bedroom and when you turn around after closing the door he’s pressing you into the solid wood, his hands above your head caging you in. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you hungrily. He presses a kiss to your lips before trailing down your jaw to nose at your neck.

“You’ve been teasing me all week,” he murmurs into your skin making you shiver.

“I-“ you start to protest but he shushes you.

“I think,” he starts, his fingers finding their way into your hair leaving his thumb to slide along your jaw, “I’m gonna repay the favour.”

“W-what do you mean?” You shudder as he presses kisses down your chest. You’re still wearing your skimpy outfit from earlier, leaving him plenty of skin to touch. His knee slots between your thighs, pressing up until you’re practically seated on his leg. You let out a whimper at the contact, the thin lace and his basketball shorts are all that separates you. He smirks as you try and rub against him, groaning when you realize his shorts are too slippery. You whine as you realize they don’t provide any friction when you slide against his leg.

“Tim, please,” you whimper, mouth going dry as his hands slide up into your shirt, pushing the fabric up as he goes. Once he’s pulled your shirt over your head, he quickly unclips your bra and drops that onto the pile of clothes too. His hands slide up your back, pressing you towards him as his lips close around one of your nipples. He swirls his tongue before sucking, and you find yourself sighing happily, your fingers threading into his hair. He gives the other the same treatment and when you think he’s going to move on, he just moves back to your other nipple again. He continues this pattern until you’re practically begging for more, writhing against him. The press of his leg between your thighs does almost nothing as you buck against the smooth fabric of his shorts fruitlessly. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your panties by now.

“You think I could make you come just from this?” He wonders briefly before taking your nipple back between his lips. It’s never happened before but you think he probably can, you can feel your pulse between your legs as you whine pathetically, fingers still curled in his hair. As much as you want him to move on, it feels so good you can’t bring yourself to pull him away. Your nipples are spit slick and red from the amount of time he’s spent against them and he’s showing no signs of stopping. His fingers pinch and pull at one as he suddenly sucks hard on the other.

“Tim!” You gasp, stiffening against him for a moment before your muscles go slack.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, letting out an incredulous laugh when he beams up at you.

“I didn’t know I could even do that,” you mumble, still shocked by the small orgasm, before pulling him up to kiss you again. He maneuvers you to his bed, letting you fall into the sheets gently before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him to slot his hips in, groaning when you feel how hard he is.

“Fuck me, please,” you whine and he laughs.

“That’s in inviting offer, eh?” He smirks, “but I’m not done yet.”

He sits up on his knees to work your skirt off your hips, tossing it to the side. He smoothes his hands across your skin, down your sides, squeezes your hips.

“So pretty,” he mumbles into your stomach, kissing a wet line down to your hipbone before sucking a mark there. He kisses across your skin along the band of your panties before sliding them down your legs.

“Look at you, soaked right through these, huh?” He looks proud and you blush.

“Get on with it,” you laugh, knocking your foot into his shoulder. The contrast of him being fully dressed while you’re bare is making you squirm even more than usual.

“I told you, I’m taking my time,” he reminds you, catching your foot. You groan as he presses a gentle kiss to your ankle before continuing up the inside of your leg. Just when you think he’s going to press kisses down the line of your other leg, he sucks your clit into his mouth and you nearly double over.

“Fuck, Tim!” you moan as he eats you out. He groans against you when he tastes your wetness, your hands finding their way to his hair at the sensation. You’re so wound up from earlier that you can’t help the way your fingers tighten in his hair. He moans at the feeling, pushing you almost to the edge. You’re just about to come when he pulls back, looking up at you mischievously. You groan, but he doesn’t leave you hanging for long. His fingers find your clit and your eyes roll back.

“Could Mikey make you feel like this?” He almost growls, fingers rubbing against you.

“W-what?” You try to claw your way out of the fog of arousal you’re in to figure out what he means. You finally remember, just as he presses his fingers into you, nearly making you forget again.

“I was just trying to rile you up,” you’re quick to tell him, “I don’t care about Mike, I just wanted you.”

His fingers curl inside you and it feels like forgiveness until he pulls away from you again. You let out a sob before he shushes you as he sits up.

“I’m just getting a condom,” he reassures you, reaching to rifle through the bedside drawer.

“Get naked,” you grumble, trying your best to yank off his shirt from under him. He snorts, throwing it off to the side and quickly shucking off the rest of his clothes before crawling back between your legs. You hold up the shiny wrapper you retrieved when he was busy like a prize, making him laugh. He moves to take it from you, ready to open it but you distract him, fingers trailing along his stomach. His breath hitches, muscles tightening as you reach the little trail of hair under his bellybutton.

“Fuck, I missed seeing you naked,” you groan, looking up at him through your eyelashes. As he looks into your eyes, you get to watch his face contort in surprised pleasure when you take his cock in hand and stroke. You know you have the upper hand, his dominant act crumbing apart now that you’re finally touching him.

You carefully rip the condom wrapper open with your teeth as his hands find your hips, sliding reverently up your soft skin to thumb at your nipples as you roll it onto his length. Once it’s on he pushes forward to rub his tip against your clit, making you gasp when his jewelry catches on it. You shift your hips against him, desperate to get him inside you, but he continues his teasing, rubbing against you until you can’t stand it anymore. He’s not expecting it, so he goes down easy when you push him onto his back next to you and straddle him. He whimpers as you sink down on him, the stretch making you groan happily. You start moving slowly, savoring the feeling of him being inside you again.

“Feels so good,” you moan as he hits a particularly deep spot. You start riding him in earnest when you can’t stand the slow pace any longer, his hands digging in to your waist as you bounce.

“So fucking pretty, baby,” Tim moans, staring up at you with rapt attention. He lets out a breathy moan when your hands move from where they were braced against his chest to play with his nipples. His fingers dig into your hips as he starts thrusting up into you, matching your pace. It’s been long enough since you’d gotten any action with Tim, much less been on top, and while your orgasm is approaching quickly, your thighs are giving out even quicker. You whimper as you try desperately to keep going, but Tim can tell your losing steam. He flips the both of you over easily, sliding back inside you right away. Your view from under him is perfect, his arms bulging as he leans down to take your nipple into his mouth again. They’re overly sensitive and the zing of pleasure goes straight down to your clit as he sucks. You’re gagging for it, so agonizingly close to coming but you can’t quite get there.

“Tim, please,” you whine, too far gone for anything more coherent as he fucks you into the mattress. He knows what you need though, reaching down to swirl circles against your clit.

“C’mon honey, you can do it, wanna feel you come,” he begs against your breast before suctioning his lips around your other nipple. It only takes a few more thrusts until you arch into him as you finally fall over the edge, pulsing around him as you come. He follows after you, hips stuttering into yours as he fills the condom. You’re both breathing heavy when he snuggles down on top of you, nuzzling into your neck happily.

“Missed this,” you smile, pressing kisses to wherever you can reach.

“Me too,” you can feel his smile against your skin. He moves to get up but you whine, holding him close to you.

“Stay inside, just a little longer,” you plead as he looks down at you fondly.

“Okay, but if we stay like this too long I might get hard again,” he admits sheepishly, settling back down against you.

“Good,” you smile, already dreaming about a sleepy round two.

Taglist; @stusdollface93

[xoxochb]

Hey! I was wondering if I could request a Apollo x daughter/child of Dionysus please? Maybe where Dionysus walks in on them spending time together and freaks out on Apollo?

���·˚ ༘ * laughing with my feet in your lap

warnings: mentions of being drunk, implied make out, wine drinking, secret relationship trope (ish), I’m not sure if I like this but at the same time yes I do, resolved ending, short short

pairing: apollo x daughter of dionysus

hysterical laughter echos throughout the room, ultimately followed by shushes

“quiet,” you demand “if my dad sees us- you here he’ll kill the both of us”

your fathers palace is ‘here’ and ‘you’ refers to apollo. you had snuck inside for a bottle of wine, one that’s almost halfway finished at this point, taking turns with a sip. the plan was to retrieve the bottle and leave but your collapsing on the couch prevented the leaving part along with your boyfriend taking a seat with you, sprawling your legs over his- very comfortable! you could only wish it was possible to stay in this position forever

the sun god laughs at your demeanor “he’s never home, it’s fine”

“maybe we should go to your palace” you attempt to get up but apollo’s hand over your thigh stops you

“stay” he plants a kiss to your frowning lips

you sigh “five more minutes”

you should have said two because four minutes after your worst fear comes true. the door opens revealing none other than dionysus himself, almost furious at the sight in front of him. a wine bottle in your hand- his wine bottle to be exact, a mark on your collarbone, swollen lips, and apollo’s arms around you

you both hurry off the couch, discarding the bottle on the side table, nearly tripping in the process

“what the hell is going on here?” the wine god fumes

“dionysus, please-” apollo begins, unfortunately being cut off

“I don’t care what lame excuse you are about to come up with, get away from my daughter!”

you cross your arms “dad, we were just drinking, that’s it”

“and making out?”

you chose to stay silent

“exactly” dionysus remarks, then turns to apollo before continuing, “I don’t want you to see my daughter. all you’re going to do is break her heart”

“I would never even dream of doing that, I swear it on the river styx. and if the day ever were to come up that I do I’ll give permission to my father to smite me, or even an exile off olympus for eternity”

your father ponders. one, two, three… until he makes a decision

“you can only see her under my circumstances: for one, you will not be together in my palace, especially in my room. number two: if apollo breaks your heart I will be the one deciding the punishments. third: treat my daughter right, I don’t want to her to end up as a plant. lastly, do not drink my wine without permission. understood?”

you rapidly nod your head “yes dad we understand. we’ll be leaving now”

he stops you “no. not until I have confirmation from your idiot boyfriend”

he rolls his eyes but ultimately gives in “yes, I understand”

“great. now give me that bottle”

you take the wine from the table and hand it to your father who nearly downs the rest in one sip. you take apollo’s hand in yours, dragging him out of your fathers palace which you mark as ‘one of the most dangerous places on olympus’

[sunflowerseob]

Under the Stars | Choi Jiung

Your night takes a turn for the worst when you run into your ex at a party. You decide to seek solace out in the garden, but you're in for a surprise when someone else has the same idea as you...

💫 Pairing: Choi Jiung x reader

💫 Word Count: 2.9k

💫 Rating: 16+

💫 Genre: Fluff, some angst and hurt comfort

💫 Warnings: Reader is distraught after seeing ex with another girl, explicit language, crying, elements of angst, good ole hurt comfort 🥹

A/N: Hi everyone! My name is Saturn and this is my first time posting a Piwon fic but not my first time writing. I also will be writing for the Kinktober event for Theo Day 17 and Jongseob Day 28 so please look forward to that 👻 After that interview where Jiung said he would be out in the garden looking at the stars at a party I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Thank you for reading if you do, I hope you enjoy it 🥰 Excited to be a part of this wonderful little writing community and can't wait to write more in the future 🩵

Masterlist

Your vision was blurred by the tears gathering in your eyes as you did your best to navigate through the sea of bodies. The walls, which were pulsing from the booming bass, felt like they were closing in around you. You frantically scanned your crowded surroundings for a door. Preferably an exit to get the hell away from here. 

You finally spotted it at the back of the kitchen, quickening your steps as you made your way towards the door to the backyard. Your tunnel vision was so focused on escape that you didn’t notice you were about to bump into someone before it was too late. The clearly tipsy girl scoffed at you in disgust. Even though you were the one now standing there with your top covered in whatever had been in her cup. You mumbled a quick “sorry” as you swallowed down the sob creeping up your throat. You forced yourself to drown out the chaos around you, reaching for the door and slipping out into the cool night air. 

The relief was instantaneous, the calm and quiet settling over you like a blanket. The racing of your heart and head slowed as you took in the expansive backyard surrounding you. It almost felt like you had stepped into another world, your eyes drinking in the path before you that was overflowing with flowers on both sides. You walked along and found that it led to a beautiful and lush garden, complete with twinkling lights, benches, and even a little gazebo. And yet, it seemed you were the only one out here enjoying this little fairy escape. 

You took a seat on one of the benches as you tried to process the events of the night that had led you here. You already weren’t a party person, you never had been. So coming tonight at all had probably been your first mistake. But your friend, Keeho, had been so excited about being asked to dj that you had decided to come and support him. Luckily, he at least had been having the time of his life and enjoying every minute. You had been fine just quietly vibing and watching him until a certain someone had entered your field of view. That someone being your ex, along with the giggling girl hanging all over him. 

You honestly hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being at this party, and certainly not with a new girl. Not when your break up was still fairly fresh. Seeing him with someone else so soon had hit you like a gut punch. You had glanced at Keeho, but he’d been completely lost in the music with a huge grin on his face. You had only hesitated for a second before deciding that you didn’t have the heart to ruin his moment at your expense. Choosing instead to just flee the party entirely as fast as possible.

Now that you were alone and able to catch your breath you could feel tears pricking at your eyes once again. This time you let them trail down your cheeks, your little sniffles permeating the otherwise silent night air as you hugged your arms around yourself. 

“God. So fucking stupid.” you muttered, letting out a humorless laugh.

You looked up and took notice of the sky above you for the first time. It was vast and open and endlessly littered with stars. The unobstructed view had you completely awestruck, momentarily distracting from the emotional crisis at hand. 

“Wow…” you whispered, mesmerized by the twinkling cosmos overhead.

Maybe the party hadn’t been a complete waste after all. Just as the thought crossed your mind a soft voice sounded from your right, “Quite the view, isn’t it?”

You jumped a little as you whipped your head to the side. You’d been so sure it was just you out here, but somehow in your frantic state you had missed the other person leaning against the gazebo nearby. God. You hoped he hadn’t been standing there long enough to witness you on the verge of an emotional breakdown. You blinked and stared at the stranger, slightly dumbfounded.

“W-What?” you managed to stutter out.

“The view,” he clarified with a small laugh, and you noticed how his eyes crinkled at the edges, “it’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

You looked back and forth between him and the stars above, your brain forming a response that never quite reached your mouth.  A flush washed over the stranger’s face as he seemed to finally realize the awkwardness of the situation. 

“Ah, sorry if I scared you. I just didn’t think anyone else would be out here.” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

This guy was really cute and endearing, and also kinda hot if you were being honest. He was tall and lean, and his bleach blonde hair was styled short and messy. He was wearing a green leather jacket over a white graphic tee with matching pants and black boots. Noticing how attractive he was really wasn’t helping the whole speechless idiot vibe you were currently giving. Tonight had already been humiliating enough. It was time to try and redeem yourself and get your shit together. Starting with giving a coherent response to the hot stranger standing less than fifteen feet away from you.

“Guess we both had the same idea. I thought I was alone too.” you told him, not being able to stop yourself from nervously fidgeting on the bench. 

He took a couple uncertain steps toward you, cutely stuffing his hands into his pockets like he didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Sorry again for startling you. I’ll let you enjoy the rest of your night.” he voiced before turning to walk away.

“Wait!” you found yourself calling after him as if it were a reflex. 

He immediately halted and curiously raised his eyebrows at you.

“Please, you don’t have to leave because of me.” you finished, voice going quiet at the end.

The stranger blinked at you in surprise at first, but then the smallest of shy smiles broke out across his features. God he was cute.

“I guess we could be alone together?” he started as he came over to stand next to the bench, “If you're sure you don't mind?” 

You gestured to the empty space next to you, “Be my guest.” 

He sat down, but made sure to still leave some distance between the two of you. Now that he was closer you noticed the fading black and purple streaks coloring his blonde locks. You watched as he raked a hand through them, sending his hair into further disarray. He suddenly turned to you, and you felt your face warm at the realization that you’d just been openly staring at him.

“I'm Jiung.” 

He smiled sweetly and held out a hand to you. Your smaller hand was completely enveloped by his when you went to shake it. You were surprised to find that there was something oddly comforting about his touch though. 

“Y/N.” you said back, the corners of your own mouth tugging upwards to mirror his own. 

“Guessing you’re not a party person, Y/N?” he queried after dropping your hand, his tone just slightly teasing.

You laughed and shook your head.

“Not at all. I’m only here because my friend is the dj, and I came to support him.” 

“My friend is the one throwing the party, so I kinda came for the same reason.” Jiung explained without you even needing to ask.

He lounged back against the bench and propped his arms up on either side of him, looking up to take another glance at the sky.

“You must be friends with Intak then?” you asked, directing his attention back to you.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend actually. And I'm guessing you're Keeho’s friend right?”

“Guilty.” you confirmed, letting yourself relax beside him.

“You know, how weird is it that we know each other's best friends, but we’ve never met before?” you went on, giving a voice to your thoughts.

Jiung hummed, “Maybe we’ve just never been in the right garden at the right time.”

He flashed you a shy grin, and you felt your heart stutter slightly in your chest. 

“Maybe you're right.” you agreed softly as your gaze sought out the stars once more. 

“If you don't mind my asking, why were you hiding out here all alone?” 

His tone was nothing but gentle, but the question threw you off all the same. Your face felt warm as you turned back to face Jiung. 

“Oh…uh …” you trailed off, growing flustered again.

The man next to you blushed even deeper than he had earlier, and you immediately felt bad for the return of the awkwardness.

“Shit…sorry. You don't have to tell me.” Jiung quickly assured you, talking with his hands as he continued rambling, “I know it's not my place, you just… You seemed kind of upset when I first saw you…”

He looked mortified at this point, and you felt your chest squeeze at his genuine concern for you, a complete stranger. And you suddenly found yourself wanting to just be honest with him for some reason.

“Jiung, breathe.” you interjected,  immediately silencing his embarrassed babbling.

He let out a groan as his face dropped into his hands, and you couldn't help the giggle that slipped out as you observed him. Everything he did was just so damn endearing. It was driving you a little crazy. 

He slowly lifted his head to look at you, “I am so sorry about that. I swear I’m not always like this.” 

“Jiung, it's okay, I promise. You're sweet to worry when you don't even know me.” you voiced, trying to reassure him further with a small smile. 

His cheeks tinted pink once more.

“I just, um, wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

If you could've melted right there on the bench, then you absolutely would have. Instead, you sighed and bent forward to match how he was sitting.

“I, uh, bolted after seeing my ex with some girl hanging all over him. I just wasn't expecting it considering how recent our break up was, and yeah… I freaked out and got the hell out of there. So all things considered, okay probably wouldn't be the word I would use.”

Everything kind of came out in a jumbled rush, and you nervously glanced at Jiung for his reaction. His dark eyes were wide in surprise. A moment later they narrowed slightly in what seemed like anger, and then finally softened as his expression settled on sympathy.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m really sorry that happened. That must’ve been awful.”

This guy you had just met was looking at you with so much sincerity, and you could feel the tears building behind your eyes once more.

“Sorry,” you said, turning away and trying to laugh it off, “you’re just really nice and I’m a mess.”

Jiung leaned closer to you, his voice soft as ever, “Hey, if you want, I can go back inside and just let Keeho know you’re ready to leave.”

God. If you started sobbing in front of him you would really never forgive yourself. You cleared your throat before shaking your head.

“He was so excited for tonight. I don’t wanna ruin it for him.” 

“I may not know Keeho as well as you do, but I do know that you’re way more important to him. He wouldn’t want you to force yourself to be here when you’re in pain. He would wanna make sure you were okay, I know he would.” 

He talked to you as you would to a crying child, but nothing about it felt condescending or like he was mocking you in any way. He also was so close now that his clasped hands briefly brushed one of your own. You finally met his eyes, your lip quivering and fresh tears betraying you as they slid down your cheeks. Next thing you knew, Jiung had raised the sleeve of his jacket to swipe it across your face.

“I’ll stay here with you as long as you need, okay?” he promised, his thumb very briefly stroking your cheek before he let it drop back down to his side. 

An impulse suddenly thrummed through you. To kiss him. But now was hardly the time or the place, and it definitely wouldn’t be for the right reasons. So you buried the urge and instead just thanked him for his kindness.

“I’m sorry that this is how we met, but, still, I’m glad we did.” you whispered, not able to stop the tiny smile from taking over your lips.

Jiung beamed shyly back at you, “I’m glad too. But, I’m not sorry. Sitting under the stars with you was the highlight of my night.”

Every part of you felt warm. You wanted nothing more than to be able to bottle this moment and this feeling and hold onto it for a while.

“Mine too.” you agreed, feeling your smile grow even wider. 

Jiung had just started to open his mouth to say something, when your phone vibrated in quick succession in your pocket. Frowning, you pulled it out to see your screen lit up with several texts from Keeho. 

The man next to you chuckled before releasing a soft sigh.

“Keeho?” he guessed before you even had a chance to tell him.

You nodded, slowly, but reluctantly getting to your feet.

“He sounds pretty worried. You were right, I really should have told him something before I ran off.” you admitted, a wave of guilt washing over you. 

Jiung stood up beside you, and you noticed for the first time the way he slightly towered over you in height.

“He’s gonna understand, Y/N.” he assured you gently.

You didn’t have a chance to respond because your phone started going off in your hand. Keeho again. Calling this time.

“Hey Kee. Sorry for worrying you. I promise I’m okay, just needed to get some air.” you explained before he could start bombarding you with questions.

“Y/N, thank god! No, I’m sorry I didn’t connect the dots sooner. By the time I realized he was here, you had already disappeared. Fuck, I’m so sorry…” your best friend trailed off, and you could hear him trying to catch his breath on the other end.

“Kee, it’s really okay. I think I am ready to go though if you don’t mind still taking me home?”

“Of course I don’t mind. Meet me out front in like two minutes okay? And don’t go disappearing on me again.”

You were happy to hear that his tone had returned to being more light and teasing like it usually was. 

“Okay, see you in a minute.” you said before hanging up.

Jiung was still standing next to you, and you felt almost sad to be putting an end to the night.

“You gonna be okay to go back in there?” he queried, nodding his head towards the house.

You laughed, earning yet another smile from him, “Yeah, I think so. Probably just gonna book it for the front door and hope for the best.”

Jiung actually giggled at that, and it was the cutest fucking sound you had ever heard. 

“So…” he started, tucking his hands back into his pockets again as he rocked on his feet, “maybe I’ll see you in another garden sometime.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

“Yeah, maybe you will.”

You were pleased to see him also trying to fight back a smile, his cheeks flushing in the garden lights.

“It was really nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jiung.”

He turned to start walking away first, and the slight chill of the late night air became startlingly apparent. You crossed your arms and shivered slightly, and that’s when you remembered-

“Shit.” you swore under your breath as you looked down at your stained top.

“What’s wrong?” Jiung asked before starting to make his way back over to you.

“Nothing, I just, someone spilled their drink all over me when I ran out of the house earlier. And I had completely forgotten about it until now. God, I hate parties.” you groaned, crossing your arms tighter over your chest.

You waited for Jiung to say something, and instead were surprised when you felt something being draped over your bare shoulders. You looked up just in time to see Jiung stepping back from you, now missing his green leather jacket. 

“Jiung wha…” your words dropped off as you gaped at him.

“Better not keep Keeho waiting. Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You continued to stare at him as he strolled away, gripping his jacket so that it wouldn’t slide off your shoulders. He was right about one thing. You really couldn’t keep Keeho waiting without sending him into a panic again. 

You barely registered the people around you as you made your way back through the crowded house. You were steps away from the front door, when you suddenly found yourself locking eyes with your ex. He took in the jacket hanging from your shoulders, and the look on his face was a mix of confusion and hurt. You glared back at him before slipping out the door. You pulled Jiung’s jacket tighter against your body, the garment feeling like a layer of armor that you hadn’t known you’d needed. You smiled to yourself. Jiung. The boy you’d met under the stars. And he was just as beautiful and mysterious.

[marchsfreakshow]

You Over Her! [Dandy Mott]

Angst/fluff

Dandy has taken to you plenty, but Gloria's idea to marry him off causes him to stick to your side like glue.

A request by the wonderful @poeticsorcery <3 thank you for this!

So many ways to execute this idea aaaa I hope this reads well I'm in love with Dandy being clingy to you<33

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Dora could only do so much for the whiny man-child. She could only take so much abuse before you stepped in fully. Sure she still liked cooking, but you had to serve everything to Dandy. If it wasn't given to him by you? Anarchy. Clearly, you didn't love him as much as he thought if you weren't bothering to help out.

Every evening he sat and watched you as you cleaned. Cleaning every inch of the playroom he loved so much. But he adored you more. If your clothes were ever so slightly uncomfortable, they were thrown and new ones were on your bed in the morning. If you slacked off and almost fell asleep, you'd get yelled at before being tucked into the makeshift bed in the playroom. Sweet words whispered, uncomfortably, into your ears as the covers were messily tucked around your body.

"you're so amazing. So perfect. So gorgeous. Everything." He chuckled, staring at your sleeping face. A finger tracing your jaw, nose, and cheeks. Every part of you he needed. Every part.

This routine of you two sharing small stares and smiles through your workday had been fine for the months you stayed. Pay never lowered, and you found yourself silently attached to the brat despite his... tantrums. Whenever you went to bed you pretended to sleep so you could be aware of Dandy's small kiss on your cheek. And to your forehead, to your neck, chest. Never lower. He was a gentleman after all. It was a sweet few months, with sweet talks and treats for your work.

But, fate decided to intervene on the most peaceful day of all. Dora was out. So was Gloria. Dandy was in his playroom with you, watching you as per usual. Watching you move as you adjusted his items, and humming show tunes to yourself. Such a quiet, peaceful day. Until Gloria's shrill voice decided to break your, quiet time with the spoilt man. "I need you out." She mentioned to you. "Dandy! I have someone for you to meet."

Not wanting to upset Gloria, you immediately walked out. But looked a bit sadly at Dandy, who was immediately annoyed to no ends of the earth. A lovely woman, your age was behind Gloria as you walked out. The eye contact with each other was slightly tense. She could tell you wanted to be left alone, but you could tell Gloria's wants. She wanted this girl to marry Dandy. Badly. So much so, that a potential payment was held in the woman's bag. Walking away to Dandy's room, you closed the door, in an attempt to make Gloria happy.

Obviously, you didn't stay in there. You immediately walked back out once you could tell the two ladies were in the playroom. Eavesdropping on the conversation. A very one-sided conversation. Dandy was practically silent as Gloria introduced the woman and practical information about her. You could almost tell Dandy was rolling his eyes and was thinking more about you.

Only a few minutes passed before you heard steps out of the room. So, you just made it seem like you were hanging around, waiting for the conversation to finish. "She's such a cow." You heard before arms wrapped around you, and a face buried itself in your neck. Letting out a small awkward chuckle, eventually, you reciprocated the unexpected affection. In your head, any and all scenarios played out in detail. The worst one you thought of was Dandy killing the lovely lady just because. You knew he wanted to explore murder. He spilled his heart out to you whenever he got a chance.

"Dandy! Please just take a chance on her!" Gloria's slightly uninterested and shrill voice intruded your ears once again. He shook his head silently and stuffed his face in your neck again. If Gloria spoke up again, you might have to punch her.

So that's exactly what you did. She kept pestering Dandy with the call of his name and begging for a wedding. A heavy and annoyed sigh left you and pushed the brat off you (gently of course) before going up to the brat's mother and punching her. You hit her in her nose, causing her to fall back slightly, stumbling as she caught her footing. Your stare was hard, and cold as Gloria examined the blood dripping out of her nose. Oh. Shit. That wasn't meant to happen.

Where was the lovely stranger in all of this? She was stood by one of Dandy's stuffed animals, watching on in fear. A broken nose, yelling and a tantrum wasn't how she saw her day going. She expected to be introduced to her future husband, prepare details, and move in. All with a promise of a good deal, and money. Plenty of it. Everyone was easily swayed by money. And the Mott family had it at their fingertips 24/7. How could such a handsome man be such a baby? It dissuaded her if it wasn't already obvious that marriage would not be taking place.

You? You were getting a gentle kiss on each of your red knuckles, and praises sung in your ear. Dandy was already so swayed by you, and that punch made him fall deeper. Such a strong... persuasive way to tell Gloria no. But she shrieked your name and looked at Dandy with that look she couldn't erase from her eyes. "Why do you insist on staying with this dreadful person?!"

"They're better than some hag who only wants our money!" He raised his voice back, finally hitting rock bottom with his mother. Everything basically collapsed at that point, and the stranger took this opportunity to run out, heading in whatever direction she could so she didn't risk a punch from you. You felt bad for her, only slightly though. Sure she wanted to be married for the money, but you were sure she was a sweet woman.

Minutes of screaming passed and Gloria eventually headed out, down the stairs to 'calm herself down' which left Dandy staring annoyedly at the door to the playroom. The best thing you could think of was to put your hands on his face, staring gently at him. His eyes met yours, and immediately you could tell the brat softened. Dandy's hands pulled you closer, and he almost melted under your touch. "you feeling better now?"

He nodded into your neck, pressing little kisses to the skin he was close to. Any touch on him made him feel better, in any situation. As long as it was you. "How about I marry you instead?"

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @slvt4jamesmarch @fear-is-truth @coentinim @nahoyasboyfriend @bluerthanvelvet444 @starry-eyed-wild-child @babygorewhore

[sevcasejay1chicago]

Hi! Very happy to see you posted again.

Would love to see another Matt, Jay, and Kelly fic w/ morning sickness— maybe a follow up to the last one— where the reader’s morning sickness has gotten worse and one day after waking up in the middle of the night very ill she gets really shaky and lightheaded and the boys try to figure out if they should call 911, call Will, or drive to the ER.

Please no rush— you’re under no obligation to puts fics out fast. Health comes first. I hope life gets better for you soon <3

Here’s the part two you asked for FOREVER ago. I’m sorry for the wait my love!!! I hope you enjoy!!

Morning sickness- Jay, Matt, Kelly

Warnings: vomiting, SUPER fluffy

——————

You all hoped the morning sickness would go away. The boys hated seeing you so scared all the time. You were scared to eat, drink, sleep, and sometimes move. Even after you hit your 14 week mark, it just seemed to get worse. The boys refused to leave you, unless they absolutely had to. Matt and Kelly had decided to take different shifts at 51 to ensure that someone was always with you incase Jay got called in on a case. The intelligence unit was very forgiving and caring, trying their best to not pull Jay away from you unless Matt and Kelly were both home. Things seemed to flow better when two people were home with you. Someone always had you attached to their side while the other could do things to help you and keep up with things around the house.

One day, Kelly ended up needing to head to the store for you while Jay and Matt were at work. You both agreed that you could manage by yourself for the length of time he would be gone, though you weren’t completely confident. You had been feeling pretty sick and had yet to keep anything down, which led Kelly to go get a few things that you could sometimes keep down since you seem to be out of all of those things. You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already felt like you were, which made you agree to him leaving for a few minutes.

Everything went fine for the first 10 minutes, until the nausea got bad. You immediately texted Matt, letting him know you weren’t feeling good, as he was the one keeping track of all of your medical issues. In his worry, he decided to head home early, though he did not tell you that. He knew you were having some strong emotions with them changing their lives to take care of you, but he just couldn’t bare to be away from you any longer. This is the worst day you’ve had in a couple days.

Meanwhile, Jay had barely had the chance to set his keys and wallet down on the kitchen counter when he heard running footsteps. Assuming that he was alone since Kelly’s car was gone and you were never alone, Jay crept up the stairs with his gun in hand. He was quick to holster it when he heard vomiting coming from the master bathroom. He knew it could only be you. The sight of you shaking while trying to hold yourself up broke his heart.

“Oh god.” He whispered, heart pounding at the sight of your weak form. “Sweetheart. Sweetheart. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” He said, running to you. He grabbed the hair you were trying to force out of the way, noticing how it was falling out of the hurried bun you threw it in. “I have your hair. It’s okay.” Jay shushed, rubbing your back and caging you between his legs.

Seconds later, Matt ran in. He could hear the commotion coming from the entryway. “Oh sweet girl.” You blindly reached for him as you heard his voice. “Aw, that’s alright. It’s alright. Just let it out.” Matt cooed, hating to see you so distressed as you heaved violently in Jay’s grip.

Jay leaned forward a bit when you started shaking violently, barely holding yourself upright. “It’s okay. It’s alright. I gotcha.” Jay soothed, strong arms coming around your chest after he let Matt take your hair.

You coughed, heaving in air during a little break. “Mmm, I don’t-“ you broke off into a sob that turned into a gag.

“Oh baby. I know. I know.” Matt shushed, petting your hair back. “It’s alright. It’ll be over in a minute.”

Simultaneously, Jay was whispering in your ear. “It’s alright. We’re here. We’re here. I know sweet angel. I know.” Jay soothed, kissing your shoulder.

“Mm-make it s-st-stop.” You grunted out, clutching your stomach.

“Shhh. I know baby. I know it’s uncomfortable and it hurts. I’m so sorry sweetheart.” Matt shushed, seeing that Jay was doing everything not to break at your cries. He was a strong man, but you turned him into jello in your hands.

“Oh God.” Kelly said, sliding through the door. “I was gone for 30 minutes. I’m so sorry baby.” Kelly explained before coming to sit on the lip of the tub on your left. “It’s okay.” He soothed, taking the hand you reached out to him. You seemed to finally start to empty, mostly dry heaving. “Yep. All out baby.”

“You all done?” Matt asked, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe your face clean.

Instead of answering, you tried to push yourself to your feet to rinse your mouth out. “Whoa whoa. Don’t get up. Your pale and shaky. Just sit right here and let me rub your back, yeah?” Jay said, catching you by the waist and sitting down with you. You turned sideways in his lap, allowing him access to your back. “There we go. Oh I know it. I know your stomach hurts. It’s okay baby.” Jay soothed as you whimpered, kissing your temple.

You looked at Matt through hazing, tear filled eyes. “Aren’t y-you s-su-supposed to be at w-work?” You managed to get out, trying to wrap your brain around what was going on.

“Shhh don’t try to talk. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine babe. Let’s worry about you and talk more later.” Matt shushed gently, worried about how pale you were and how sluggish your eyes and brain were. They needed to get some sugar in you. “Think your completely done? Maybe we can try some Gatorade.” Matt said.

Just the mention of putting something in your stomach had you heaving again. You pushed off of Jay and leaned over the toilet again, heaving hard.

“Oh. Okay okay. It’s okay baby.” Jay soothed.

“That a girl.” Kelly praised, clutching your hand again.

“Hurts.” You wheezed out, clutching your stomach with your free hand.

“Yeah. I know baby. I know it hurts. It’s okay.” Matt soothed, looking to Kelly. “Think we should take her to Med or call for help? She isn’t looking good.” Matt said, knowing you likely weren’t actually hearing him as you went through another round of violent heaving.

Both boys looked at you as you sucked in air, finally calming your stomach some. You stared off into space, seeming to lose track of reality.

“Baby. Are you okay?” Kelly asked, cupping a hand under your bicep.

Jay felt you sagging and immediately pulled you into his chest. You were hot from all the puking, but you were barely sweating. “Call Will. Tell him to bring an IV bag over here. She’s dehydrated.” Jay instructed, standing with you in his arms. You whined at the sudden movement, but clung to Jay’s neck.

“No. I’ll drive your truck with lights. Matt, call Will and have him get a room ready at med.” Kelly said, using a tone that left not room for arguments.

The ride was fast and Will barely had the room set up to check the baby and get you hydrated before Jay was running in the door with you. Nat saw you being carried through the door and ran into the room, helping put the baby monitor on you while Will put an Iv in.

Hours later, the baby seemed to be settling and you were starting to come around. You weren’t happy that you had an Iv in your hand, but you were pleased to see Jay and Matt sleeping peacefully while Kelly stood with his back to you.

When he heard you shuffle around in the bed, he quickly wiped his face and turned to you.

“Oh baby. Hey sweetheart.” Kelly cooed, barely above a whisper. He immediately came to your side, taking your hand.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, wiping left over tear tracks off of Kelly’s face after he kissed you briefly.

“I’m sorry I left you.” Kelly whispered, bottom lip quivering as he spoke.

“No no no.” You whispered. “Come here.” You demanded gently, tugging him into the hospital bed with you. “It’s not your fault. You were trying to take care of me the best you could. I should have spoke up.” You said, cuddling into his side, careful of the wires and tubing.

“Damn right you should have.” Jay mumbled, staying seated as Matt laid resting on his shoulder. “Don’t ever do that again.” Jay whispered, pout on his lips.

“Yes dear.” You replied, hiding in Kelly’s chest as Jay gave you his “dad” eyes. The “you just wait” eyes, but not in a good way. You knew he was playing, but you also knew you scared the crap out of your lovers. You just hope this kid chills out.

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@stellakiddsblog

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

[eyesxxyou]

that's what they all say pt.2

↳ ❝ [dbf!miguel o'hara x black!reader] ¡! ❞

rating. m

word count. 4.1k

synopsis. you told yourself you were done with miguel after the way he left things week before. you were moving on, got yourself a new boyfriend and everything. that is, until you have to attend a gala with your father.

or

you and miguel have sex in the bathroom

warnings. p in v sex, unprotected sex (stay responsible), slapping, spitting, reader on top, miguel's a little bit of a simp, reader is mean :(, exhibitionalism (bathroom sex)

part one

You haven’t seen Miguel in weeks and you didn’t want to either. Not after that night in your father’s house. Not after he turned you down flat right after you had let him into your body. Men, what are you gonna do about them? They take and take and take and never give anything in return. They expect you to give them everything; they want you to give all of you until you're dry and hollow, a husk of the person you once were.

You never let yourself consider that he has any bearing on the reason why you decided to haphazardly get into a relationship with the colleague from work that’s been pining over you for months now. You told yourself you were tired of being single—which, admittedly, isn’t a good reason to get in a relationship on its own. You weren’t all that attracted to him. He was fine on paper; nice, romantic, devoted, pretty decent-looking. But he was absolutely nothing compared to Miguel. A twig, really.

It’s not like you wanted to hurt the guy. You were just tired of moping around, thinking about a man who made it more than clear that he didn’t want to be with you. But you knew he was nothing you'd take seriously, not in the position you're in right now.

Yet, you introduce him to your dad as if any of this is going to go anywhere besides a messy break up in a few short months with you talking about, “it’s not you, it’s me” which would be 100% true in this case.

“I like him.” Your father says like that will sway you in any kind of way. “He seems like a good guy with good intentions.” You think about what your father might say if you told him right now that you didn’t care about whatever his name is and were only thinking about Miguel. Would it be shock or anger if you told him his best friend had your up against the family pictures, that grandma Margret’s urn was pushed off of the table to make room. Maybe both. Who would he be more upset with, you or Miguel?

Maybe your dad didn’t give your enough attention as a child, too wrapped up in his career to raise his daughter right. Now you want to fuck older men to get the attention you never before received. Coming home late, leaving to work early. That’s why your mom left, she couldn’t take it. You hardly saw him at all on the days he did have you.

“Is Nathaniel coming with you to this year’s gala?” Your father offhandedly mentioned to you. You didn’t care that he got your boyfriend’s name wrong (it was just Nathan), you were more focused on the gala he was talking about. Alchemax threw one every year and every year since your father has been working there, you’ve attended. Miguel would undoubtedly be there this year which meant you couldn’t be. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dad. I don’t think I’m even going this year.” You brush him off, fiddling with the ends of your hair.

He glances at you. “What do you mean? That’s nonsense, you come every year.” You hated that he always had to ask questions. You hated that he always asked questions at the worst times and never asked any when you needed his attention most.

"I don't want to go."

"You have to, sweetheart. I'm giving a big speech tonight and I want you to be there for me." He looked at you, pleading for you to cave like you always do. You always do. You sigh and grumble to yourself and go through your motions, but ultimately you agree because you love your father. The gala was always a big event. If you kept your eyes out, Miguel wouldn't be a problem. You could be there to support your father and keep face while avoiding him at all cost.

You always enjoyed the gala. The fancy dresses, the music, the gold and diamond chandeliers glittering. But coming in on Nathan's arm in a dress that matched his tie was probably the worst part of all of this. You despised how Miguel could ruin everything you once held so dear because of his mere presence. Even if you couldn’t see him, the fact that you knew he was here was enough because your eyes constantly sought him out against your own will.

“Y/N! There you are, I was wondering when you’d show up!” Your father was such a loud person, it was impossible not to hear him. But that’s why everyone liked him. He was smart, outgoing, and naturally magnetic. No one knows what it’s like to grow up on the other side of that though. So smart he thought he knew everything and often belittled your opinions, so loud that a step out of line meant a good tongue lashing, and magnetic that you're charmed by him despite the way he neglected you, you still loved him unconditionally.

He gave Nathan a firm slap on the back and kissed your cheek. “Come on, we got our table up front this year. Miguel’s going to be joining us. He’s around here somewhere but I haven’t found him yet. And none with your banter with him tonight, I don’t want a headache before I go up on stage.”

So much for avoiding him.

You swallow with so much anxiety it almost makes you choke. You keep looking around for him because you feel that if you spot him before he spots you then you’ll have more power over the situation, over him. You know it’s an illusion. The illusion of power, of control, of sanity. And it all comes crashing down as soon as you do pick him out of the crowd. It’s not hard. He’s such a hard person to miss with a stature and a face like his.

He was standing in a group of colleagues, standing with one hand in the pocket of his slacks and the other holding a champagne flute to his lips as he sipped. He looked unbearably sexy in that tuxedo of his, the lapel of his jacket folded crisply, not a single wrinkle in sight, his bowtie perched perfectly against his Adam’s apple, with his brown hair slicked back as much as it would allow. The worst part was that he was already staring at you, seeming to have long found you before you found him. And so much for the illusion of power.

It would be so much easier to hate him if he weren’t so beautiful, wouldn’t it? Looking at him made it so easy to forget how he left you in tears after using your body for his own selfish needs. Maybe it was a bit childish and naive of you to think he’d suddenly fall head over heels for you after fucking you in your father’s living room. You should have known he wouldn’t stay but a small part of you thought, maybe if you let him into your body…

You glare at him. Make it clear that you hold no soft feelings for him. “Let’s go sit down, Nathan.” You drag your temporary boyfriend to your assigned table.

People kept approaching the table to talk to your father, congratulating him over his second award in just two months. You kept yourself busy with Nathan, occasionally glancing about for Miguel to keep an eye on him but he moved around so often you couldn't keep up.

"Mi amigo!" Your father, as loud as he was, made his position clear. He always had to try out his cringe-worthy Spanish around his friend. Miguel was approaching the table, not looking at you but at Nathan sitting beside you. "Where's Gabriella? I thought you said you were bringing her."

"She wasn't feeling well and wanted to stay home. Who is that?" He breezed past the topic of his daughter and onto the topic of Nathan, the stranger you came in with hand in hand. His lips held a firmness to them that wasn't so uncommon to his face, he even had a wrinkle because he did it so much.

You see Nathan visibly grow taut beside you, his gaze nervously shifting about to avoid that of the man who made him so insufficient in every way. "What's it to you?" Your lip curled at him in distaste.

"Y/N." Your father's tone is pressing, warning you to cut it out. "This is Nathan, Y/N's new boyfriend. Good man." He gives Nathan another pat on the shoulder to show that they're on good terms. Miguel glances at you as the scowl on your lips press in harder. He looks as if to ask if this is the best you can do, or rather that he's below you. He simply hums and turns himself away.

How dare he? Who does he think he is? Turning his back on you like you were the one who told him he was just some immature child you'd never take seriously. You don't think you can stand being near him any longer.

"I'm gonna go get some champagne." You stand abruptly from your chair. You just need some air and a copious amount of alcohol. Your dress suddenly feels so constricting, a bit of sweat is beginning to gather on your hairline. Why are your hands so clammy and why do you suddenly feel so lightheaded?

You find yourself to the nearest server carrying a tray of champagne and begin to down as many glasses as you can get your hands on. It draws the attention of those around you, a few judging glances here and there. You couldn't imagine what you looked like, a messy drunk just like your father probably. God, you can't believe you're actually acting like your father now.

"Mía carina, stop." A large, warm hand comes to grab your wrist before you can grab your fourth flute. You hardly even register who it is grabbing you before you yank your arm from his hold. "Leave me alone, Miguel." You murmur, taking the last glass off the tray to bring it to your lips.

Miguel grabs you by the waist, muttering soft apologies for your actions to those around you as he begins to guide you towards the bathrooms. "Stop, you're going to embarrass yourself." He hissed at you, taking the glass out of your hand and placing it down on the tray of a passing server. He was so swift and agile for someone so large, getting you into the men's restrooms in record time.

You push yourself away from him the moment the two of you are in the closed space. "Have you ever thought I'm already embarrassed?" You couldn't stand being so close to him, smelling him the way you did when you were falling all over him, your fingers in his hair while you kissed, his tongue exploring every crevice of your mouth before his dick did the same and more. "You embarrassed me, Miguel. You realize that? You humiliated me."

“I let you touch me. I let you into my body. I let you…have me.” Why was it so hard to breathe? Why were you letting tears slip? Why were you giving him such satisfaction? But seeing you like this gave him no joy at all. It hurt him to see you hurt, breaking down because of something that never should have started in the first place.

Miguel couldn't bear to look you in the eyes, biting his lips because he knew that the way he did things was wrong and that he hurt you. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to. He was just trying to do the best thing for you, to not be selfish for once. Because all he's ever done his entire life was be some selfish bastard ruining people's lives and being irresponsible. Now he has a daughter because of his irresponsibility, a daughter without a mother because he couldn't save her, and you, his best friend's daughter.

He tried to reach out, tried to hold you, to comfort you, let you know that the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. “Mi corazón, I-” You pushed him away, beat against his chest, did everything in your power to remove him from your vicinity. “Get away from me.” He let you hit, punch, claw, scratch because he knew he deserved it.

You tore yourself away from him, angry and disgusted with him and yourself.

“Well, you got a boyfriend pretty quick so you couldn’t have been that broken up about it.” He’s bitter about Nathan. Seeing you all cozied up on his arm as you walked in. It stirred something in Miguel, sharp jealousy tasting like blood in his mouth. He hated it, despised the idea of you being with someone else, letting someone else fuck you.

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “So what is it? Do you want me to be with someone my own age or do you want me?” Because at this point, all you wanted was to be wanted. “Choose one and stick with it because I’m not gonna to sit here and be at your fucking whim. You want me one second and then the other I’m too young and you’re too old and it won’t work out.”

You walk closer, pushing at Miguel’s chest. “I’m not your doll. I’m not.” You punctuate each word with a jab to his chest. “Your.” Jab. “Fucking.” Jab. “Toy.” You look at his lips, then his eyes, and back to his lips. “I hate you.” And you kissed him because what the hell? Why not act upon your most basic desires if it will lead to nothing anyway?

Miguel kissed you back, his hand slipping beneath your hair to hold the back of your neck and force you to stay just the way you are. There’s something utterly primal about the way you two kiss. You both know that everything going on here will not last. It’s the fiery hate you have for him and the pleading of him trying to make it up to you. The desire you have for him and his need to keep your life on track.

You bite until you break skin, until you taste his blood on your tongue, metallic and bitter. He keeps kissing you, knowing the wound isn't too bad, a slit in his lip from your teeth angrily biting at him. It was so violent, so angry, so hateful the way you two kissed, the way he tore away the zipper of your expensive dress trying to get it off of you.

It’s funny how you tear at each other's clothes with such desperation while claiming all the while you don’t want each other. You pull off Miguel’s tie, unbutton his shirt and pull the hem out of his pants before undoing his belt buckle. You want to feel his skin against yours, want to scar him, want to make him hurt. You want him to fuck you hard. Not like he means it but like he doesn’t.

He spares your dress for the most part, leaving it in one piece on the floor but he doesn’t offer the same kindness for your panties which he grabs and tears off your body with ease, the useless piece of flimsy lace fabric hanging off your ankle.

“Be quiet for me, can you do that, muñeca?” Miguel slipped his cock from the restraints of his pants, letting the length of it fall against your heat not yet prepared to take him. You scoff at him and slap his cheek not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to let him know you weren’t going to comply. “Fuck you.”

There was something in Miguel’s eyes that seemed to break, something dark and impatient that he had been holding back until now. “Oh– so it’s gonna be like that?” You suddenly realize how much bigger he is than you and how easy it would be for him to have his way with you. He kisses you again, tongue sliding against yours, your mixed saliva coming out from the seams of your interlocked lips.

His large hand is around your throat just like last time as he uses his free hand to slap you back, once, twice, leaving a stinging pain against your cheek. He forces you onto the counter, your legs on either side of his narrow hips as he slaps your pussy too in firm spanks leaving you puffy and aching. “This is my pussy, baby. You know that. Mine.” Miguel can’t imagine anyone else enjoying you, especially not that good for nothing idiot out there. He probably doesn’t even know you’re about to get railed. Sitting there so eagerly waiting for you to return.

“I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Oh, I definitely want it.”

You push him away from you to give yourself more room. "I want to ride you." You want the control this time, not to feel weak, not to be at his mercy to leave you the moment the heat of the moment cools down. He owes you that and he knows he does. That's why he gets up on the counter with little to no complaint and drags you up onto his lap as he leans against the mirror.

It feels odd being taller than him for once, having the upper hand, looking down at him with his kiss-swollen lips and exposed chest. His cock weighed heavy against your pelvis, displaying just how far into you he'd be going, his tip right against your belly button, smearing precum against your naval.

You spit on your hand, use it to spread between your lips. You can tell by the way he looks at you, watches your fingers graze against the length of his shaft, he wants you to touch him, spread your saliva across his sensitive tip and drag it down to the base of his cock. He wants you to have him shivering, shaking with the aftershock of an orgasm with just your hand. You don't give him the satisfaction.

"Put it in." You tell him, command him because he wants this way more than you do. Or at least– that's what you tell yourself. There's a reason why you unbuttoned his shirt, why you placed your hands on his bare chest, your fingers against his chest hairs. You wanted to know the human intimacy of touch, the beauty of it, the comfort.

Miguel maintains eye contact as he glides himself into you. You don't like it and certainly don't want it. You're cold towards him as you press your hips down and take more and more of him into you, buckling down. You don't want slow and intimate, you don't want his eye contact and his pet names.

It's not an easy task trying to take him. Your breathing hitches and your eyes flutter as you settle against his lap, readjusting your position to give yourself leverage. You rolled your hips against his, watching the way his brows furrowed and he tossed his head back, groaning softly. "Fu– fuck. God, mía carina."

Nothing about the way you fucked was loving or even implied a liking beyond a physical desire. Your nails grappled at his skin, using his broad shoulders as leverage as you bounced on his cock while you clawed at his skin all at the same time. But Miguel forced intimacy, held your face to make you look at him and every time you'd rip yourself away he'd grab you harder, forced his hips up to meet yours half way and watch the way you trembled, feel your pussy quiver and clench around his cock.

Sex like this could make Miguel fall in love, make him toss caution to the wind, make him the most selfish bastard in the world and claim the rest of your life for himself. He held you close, tried in every way he could to let you know that he cared deeply for you and that's exactly why the two of you couldn't be together. He cared too much for you, far beyond a friend of the family should. What was he supposed to do? Betray your father's trust? Date someone closer in age to his kid than himself?

But he fell in love with the way your body moved, the way it rolled against his like you were dancing just for him. Your hands were on his neck, then in his hair, tugging sharply at the root so his head craned back. He fell in love with the way you grabbed his jaw and forced him to open his mouth so you could spit in it and slap him again. He fell in love with the way your pussy clung on to him so tight, your creamy wetness slicking your thighs and coating his length. God, you drove him absolutely insane.

He murmured your name, pussy-whipped and dazed with something starting to look like a lot more than lust. "Dios, me estás volviendo loco, mi corazón. Creo que estoy enamorado de ti. ¿Tú lo sabes?" Miguel didn't even know what he was saying anymore, it came out of him like word vomit. He just wanted you. He wanted you so fucking bad.

"Shut up. Stop talking." You don't want to hear his voice, the way he whispered is serenading words in Spanish because you knew if he said anymore you might fall in love with him too. You ride harder, stifling your own moans as you feel him press against such deep, intimate parts of yourself. You can see yourself in the mirror over Miguel's head. Your hair in disarray, a thin layer of glistening sweat coating your skin, and your eyes so hard and cold, teary even.

"Just let me touch you, muñeca. Please." He's whiny, stupid, and pathetic just for you because the way you're creaming on his dick is starting to make him feel like the idea of having a second child was such an insane one. Miguel spat in his hand, used it to play with your swollen clit. He ran circles around your rosebud the same way he ran circles around your mind. Messy and fast in an attempt to get you to cum for him.

Your orgasm threatens to tear you apart, to shred your world to pieces then glue them back together haphazardly. It rocks you and your whole body. You ride harder than before, the harsh slapping of your skin meating his, desperate to reach that high knowing it would lead to you crashing to a whole new low.

“I hate you, Miguel.” You tell him, your breathing halting and your voice cracking. “I hate you for everything you did to me. I hate you for how you used me.” You kissed him hard and breathlessly, pressing your body against him as your orgasm rippled through your body. "I hate you for how you ruined me. You ruined me, Miguel."

Ruined was such a strong word but you got home and you cried, you screamed, you wept. It felt like being ruined. It was so humiliating.

You hated him right now because if you didn't you knew you would love him.

"Y/N-" You didn't let him finish, refused to let him finish in all ways possible because the moment your climax came to its shivering end, you got up and you got off of him. He was so close too and you just up and left him high and dry, you were already snatching up your dress from the floor to put back on.

"Get yourself together, you look ridiculous." You tell him, fiddling with your broken off zipper to try to get it back up your back. Miguel pushed the few strands of hair he had sticking to his forehead. "What the fuck are you on? Where are you going?"

"Back to my boyfriend, where else?"

Miguel was starting to get whiplash. He got off of the counter and tucked himself away just enough to make himself decent. "Y/N please, let's talk about this. You and I both know you don't want him." That much was true but you'd never admit it to him. You're not going to let him embarrass you like that ever again.

You snap at him. "And what? I'm supposed to want you?" You think you should throw your shoe at his head, strangle him, kiss him as well. "I'm doing just what you wanted, Miguel. I'm finding someone my own age, someone my dad approves of. You made your choice so fucking stick with it."

"But I-" but you were already gone with the swinging of the bathroom door as your only marker that you were ever there.

"-love you."

Fuck.

tags: @ihateuguys @valentinewritten

[mvltisstuff]

Heyy, i love your fics so michh, can u make Buck x reader, they have a newborn girl and reader is stressed because the baby won't stop crying and buck helps her. Take your time!💋

close to you - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif

a/n: this is such a great idea, and i’m so happy you asked me to execute it <3 madeline is also inspired by the name maddie, as i feel like that’s so cute for buck :((

madeline was a gift from the moment y/n took time off work because of her pregnancy. she was a gift the moment they decided on a name. she was a gift the moment she entered the world in the small hospital room.

however, y/n despised herself for thinking part of it was a curse. she loved her daughter more than anything in the world despite the short amount of weeks that she had arrived. buck had gone back to work, but y/n needed more time to recover from the birth. she got the pleasure of staying home with her baby, and she genuinely thought so.

it wasn’t until the constant screams came through madeline’s mouth that y/n started to get more and more tensed. her head was pounding, her body was sore and she just wanted to give her baby peace.

she felt like the worst mother in the world, not being able to comfort or secure her baby girl. she figured it would come naturally. in reality, it’s never been harder.

she cried when she was hungry, needed a diaper change, sleepy, or she just cried. it seemed like it was always that she just cried and screamed. it burned in y/n’s ear painfully as she listened to the squeals of her daughter. she just wanted her to be happy, and buck wasn’t there to help.

“mad, please.” y/n begged when her eyes started to water again, and the quiet squeaks left her baby’s soft cheeks. “i’m so sorry, i want to help you.”

y/n sighed as she rocked the baby in her arms, the bags under her eyes only getting darker as she stayed up with madeline. buck was exhausted when he came home, so he just went to sleep. y/n was fine with that as he did everything he could for his girls, all the time.

she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss buck every hour.

he had some type of paternal magic to him that eased madeline. it brought her down to earth, and it gave y/n time to relax. her hormones were all over to place. every time her baby cried, it flooded her body was sadness and exhaustion. she was deeply jealous of buck secretly because of the ease he seemed to have with handling their child.

“hey, dad,” hen smiled, seeing buck walk back into the station after a few weeks with his wife and baby alone. “how’s y/n and the baby?”

“they’re good, i feel so bad leaving them though.”

“it’s hard to leave, that’s the last thing i wanted to do when we first got denny.”

“it’s just- i talk to you about anything, right?”

“of course, buck! what makes you say that, though.”

“madeline cries a lot, and i can just tell in y/n’s face that somethings wrong. i mean, i get that babies cry, but it just seems like it’s taking a huge toll on y/n. i don’t want her thinking she’s a bad mom, and if what happened to maddie happens to her,” buck thinks back to his sister, who went to hell and back trying to be a better mom for jee-yun. it breaks his heart to even consider y/n feeling left in the dark the same way. “i can’t handle that.”

“listen, buck,” hen lands a hand on his shoulder. “it’s going to be ok. you could even go for a little longer off work, you came back really soon.”

“y/n said it’d be good for us, and make me happier.”

“but is it making things easier? you both need to be doing this together. y/n’s saying a lot of stuff she doesn’t mean, and her mind is running at a 100 miles an hour.”

“i know,” buck says. “i’m gonna see her after the shift, i’ll talk to bobby. see what i can do.”

y/n continued to pace around the kitchen for hours, her lower back beginning to ache and her ears hurting from the wails of the baby in her arms. she tried everything from feeding her to rocking her in her swing, but nothing seemed to stop the cries of her daughter.

“madeline, please, i’m begging you,” y/n whines, practically on her knees for her child to stop crying.

the cries quickly started to blend in, y/n realizing that they’ll never go away. she wasn’t sick or anything, y/n repeatedly checked, but madeline still was just simply unhappy. and, y/n swore she was the problem.

buck arrived home late in the night, hours past dinner and inching closer to the bedtime of their casual family. when he opened the door, he just knew that y/n was in there with their baby, struggling to hang on and fix the problem.

“y/n?” he calls out, wandering around their home and finally landing in the nursery. the light purple walls and decorations were darkened, y/n and madeline sitting in the chair together. y/n’s shirt had been pulled down so she was able to feed madeline, but it seemed like no use. the baby in her arms was still weeping and throwing her tiny hands around. “oh, y/n.”

her blank expression told it all, along with the dark bags under her eyes. “she’s so upset, buck, i don’t know what to do.” y/n murmurs slightly over the cries of the baby.

“it’s ok, honey, we’re gonna figure it out.” y/n’s eyes just water with each tear that drops from madeline’s eyes. “no, no, it’s okay, y/n.”

“i’m sorry, i’m just so tired.”

“i know, i’m here now. we can fix this, okay?” y/n swipes under her eyes, taking in sharp breaths and trying to steady herself. “hey, honey, listen to me. you’re ok, madeline’s ok, i’m ok. we’ll be alright.

she nods as his arm touches her side, the baby wrapped in his other arm. “alright. why don’t you hold her, and i’m gonna go see if our noise machine is here yet.”

buck rustles through packages and gifts from their baby shower and tries to find anything that might help their girl sleep, and anything that will bring relief to y/n.

“i found it! it’ll be white noise, which we should’ve tried sooner. i don’t know if it’ll work, but it won’t hurt to try.”

buck allowed y/n to place the baby in her crib, letting her tiny body rest against the soft mattress. they turned the lights off and plugged in the machine, which sang out the staticky white noise that calmed their daughter.

her crying started to come to a halt after a bit of hearing the noise, her adorable little eyes shutting after a bit to finally rest. y/n could feel her whole body relax under seeing her baby finally sleep, as it had felt like days.

she felt like crying, she felt like sleeping, but she also felt like she had so much to do. the house was a mess, her baby had finally gotten to sleep, but she also wanted to sleep. it felt like one thing after another, and buck looked over again to see a y/n staring at the ground.

“what’s the matter? talk to me, y/n.”

“i’m not cut out for this,” her shaky voice comes out, his hands on the sides of her arms.

“what? of course you are!”

“i can barely manage to keep this house together, let alone keep our baby happy and i haven’t even been able to go back to work! i feel like shit and i just want to be happy with my baby, but i don’t even know if she’s happy and-“

“alright, i know,” she allows herself to fall into bucks grasp, as he worries silently for her in his mind. he can feel the exhaustion venting off her body, begging for sleep and somewhere to lay in peace and quiet. “i don’t want you worrying about anything else. let’s go to sleep, and i’m gonna help you, i promise. i’m never leaving either of your sides.”

his arms warmly grasp her body clad in a soft set. he leads her to their shared bed, pulling the blankets out and holding her as she finally gets her deserved sleep.

[slytherinshua]

A BIT TIPSY

genre. fluff. warnings. chanhee is very drunk. they're engaged. kissing. not proofread. pairing. fiancé!chanhee x fem!reader. wc. 796. request. for @heavenfilm who started this all 😞 a/n. inspired on this boylog where chanhee got very drunk and was just so cute :( ofc i had to feed into the delusions.

“You’re so red, baby. How much did you drink?” You met eyes with your fiancé who stood in the doorway, clad in his pyjamas. His face was flushed bright pink and his eyes drooped down, threatening to close at any time. You had heard the drunken chatter of the boys in the kitchen, taking shots of soju and eating shrimp together. Chanhee had gotten the most drunk by far. You could easily tell by his voice leading the conversation, mostly consisting of nonsensical sentences leaving his mouth while Changmin, Eric and Juyeon tried to follow along. He was a handful when drunk.

“Just a tiny bit.” Chanhee giggled, stumbling forward until he reached the bed. He landed messily, his head falling right in your lap. He didn’t bother trying to sit up, deciding that how he landed was entirely on purpose and your lap was far too comfortable to leave in any case.

“Looks like it was a lot more than a tiny bit.” You pointed out.

“Fine. But I’m not drunk!” He insisted, raising his head to meet your eyes as if it would prove his point.

“Sure you’re not.” You teased, brushing some of his black hair to the side, revealing his pink forehead. 

“You don’t believe me.” He frowned. He could still read you so easily even when drunk. He wasn’t going to be fooled by you playing along to his declaration. 

“You need sleep, Chanhee, love.” You knew he wouldn’t listen to you immediately. But from how inebriated he was, you were sure he was going to crash soon. 

Just as expected, he shook his head immediately, “I’m not tired.” You scoffed at his slurred words. He had been doing MV shoots for the last 3 days and was out shopping all day in Jeju. He texted you how exhausted he was hours ago. Anyone would be able to see the blatant lie.

Chanhee really did need sleep, even if he said he didn’t. If he was going to ignore your first suggestion, you would have to switch to other means. Bribery usually worked with him, drunk or sober.

“If I give you a kiss will you go to sleep?” You asked, smiling when his eyebrows furrowed at your question. He lifted his head from your lap, glancing up at you to make sure you were serious about your suggestion before sitting up fully.

“A real kiss? You won’t trick me with just a peck, right?” He pouted, and you laughed. How could he look so cute? Face all flushed, a sulky expression adorning it, and messy hair completing the look.

“I won’t.”

“Promise? Pinky promise?!” He was trying to sound as serious as possible, but given the way his words slurred together, he just sounded like he was running on 1 working brain cell. Which was probably the case.

“Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky to him, letting him link it with his and stamp your thumbs.

“If you break your promise, I’m getting a divorce.” He warned you, “Cheating your husband out of kisses is the worst offence.” He whispered the last part as he neared your lips. 

You wanted to remind him that you weren’t actually married yet, and so it was impossible for him to divorce you if you broke the promise, but his lips stopped you from getting any other words out. The taste of soju lingered on his lips, but you were going to keep your word. You let him kiss you as long as he wanted to, soon getting used to the scent and taste of alcohol that was left from his lips. When he finally broke off the kiss, he seemed extremely satisfied that you had kept your promise.

“I knew my wife wouldn’t be cheap. Now we can stay married forever!” He said excitedly. You nodded along to his words with an endeared smile on your face. It warmed your heart to hear him address you as his wife, even if you hadn’t made it official quite yet.

“You’re gonna keep up your end of the deal too, right?” You reminded Chanhee, giggling when his smile slowly turned into a pout again.

“Fine, only because I love you.” He settled down without any further protest, though he did insist that it was his turn to be the little spoon. You expected he would fall asleep quickly, but you underestimated just how quickly. He was out almost as soon as he closed his eyes. 

You hugged him tightly and listened to his steady breathing. It relaxed you to a state of drowsiness as well. You were left to think about his drunken words again in your head, butterflies tingling in your stomach when you remembered how the word “wife” sounded from his mouth. 

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows

[k2ntoss]

WISH YOU WERE HERE – PT. 2

tw ⭒ swearing, angst, couple argument, break up, stalking (NOT IN A CREEPY BAD KINDA WAY, OKAY??? DON'T DO THAT SHIT, IT'S WEIRD AND WRONG), mention of blood and injuries (reader gets into trouble but hey, it's okay), jason todd x fem!reader and okayyyyyy that's everything heh and just because i won't pay for your therapy there's fluff at the end (i'm crying so ugly i can't stand thinking about sad baby ): )

prompt from @unboundprompts "I know I'm not perfect, but we can work this out." !!!

a/n ⭒ once again song based fic, part two for dirty little secret with a bit more angst because i'm craving it. wish you were here by neck deep.

this one is for @millyhelp who requested part two :3

no word count, i'm lazy so deal with it. :3

one year thrown to waste or at leats, that's how it felt, because even if you tried to push one more month with jason it didn't worked out. you knew he tried hard to trust things could be fine but it simply didn't happened so one day you decided to show up on his place holding a box of the things he gave you.

a few books poking out of the box and also some of his clothes, the ones you used to wear to sleep because it allowed you to feel he was with you instead of wherever he was because you never knew it, your relationship was filled with secrets that didn't allowed the love you felt to breath until it suffocated.

"i can't do this anymore, jason" your words hit him as soon as jason opens the door of his place, eyes darting between your face and the box you hold on your arms and he knew that this day would come, sooner or later you'll end up getting tired of the things he couldn't give you.

but knowledge doesn't mean it is easier to accept your resolve, it burned inside of his chest because there was no way he would just let you go.

that he could have allowed to himself if things were easier, but this wasn't a fairytail in which after all the bad stuff you got to experience that pretty and fluffy happy ending so there wasn't another option for him or for you.

"just like that? just throwing everything to waste?" he asks as his hands take the box from your arms, eyes running over the objects on it and he notices the only framed picture of you both.

"are you sure i am the one throwing all to waste?" you ask him, and this time the table turns because he's the one that feels you stabbing him with each word because he knows that his fear is the only thing pulling you away from him.

there's a voice inside his head that screams at him to not let you go, he is totally capable of taking care of you and to keep you safe from all the bad shit that life throws at him but then there's the other voice, the one that whispers to him about his worst fears, the one that makes him have nightmares.

because in some of his dreams he lets you in to his life, without secrets and you accept him, you love him as he is but then he's naive enough to think that you can be into his arms safe. he dreams about you being in danger, about holding you into his arms but you're not here anymore and it's because he wasn't able to protect you. he never made it on time.

"i'm not gonna keep waiting, jason, i can't go arlund telling myself that you love me when i barely know you" jason wants to throw the box to hug you, to tell you everything about him and just cry against your chest because all his hell is making him be left alone once again. but he remains silent, standing with his eyes fixed on yours and he does a good job preventing the tears to pool at his lashline.

"people does not live of love" he says, blunt and harsh and it's true but how do you keep a relationship alive when it's burried deep into so many secrets?

"they don't but you can't expect people to be happy with someone that does not know how to love them" if you pay a little more attention you can hear his breath catching at his throat and beneath that, his heart shattering "i don't deserve this" it's the last thing he hears from you.

it's been two years, two damn year of being left alone all again. jason has lost count of how many times he has been about to call, just to hear your voice or to tell you he needs you.

two years of him moving out of that apartment to one of his safe houses, never being able to spend more than two nights complete there because he always ends up on the rooftop of the old building where he asked you to be his girlfriend.

there's days when he stands on the living room, in silence while he holds a cup of coffee and turns around to look at that photo; the only one he has with you because he told you he didn't liked photos but he wished he had a wall full of silly photographs of you kissing him and holding his hand but there's just that one. you lying over his chest and smiling widely while he pressed his chin to the top of your head.

he misses you so bad, because he deep inside knows that he had been unfair with you, he never knew how to love you and you deserved better and he wasn't enough, that's what jason tells to his reflex when he looks at it on the mirror and he's cried at it, he crumbles completely when he remembers how sad your eyes looked the last months with him.

he never fixed it. he never tried enough to make you happy. it was all his fault because no matter what, the people he loved the most always left him.

he remembers everyday how it has been two years and he hasn't been there next to you to celebrate your achieved goals, he hasn't been there to hold you and calm you when you needed it.

because maybe he wasn't really there but he is always taking care of you. it's been two years but jason takes time to, once or twice a week, go around your block to see if you're doing fine and the first year was hard because for a few months after your breakup you barely left your place.

he made sure to sneak into the building to leave food, without notes attached or anything that could tell you it was him and it never really crossed your mind because he cutted every knot with you, almost as if he vanished from your life. nothing else but a dream you had.

it took you time, probably haldf a year to shake yourself well enough to try and return to your daily routine, work and college with maybe a small join with your close friends and jason always made sure to know you would be alright. even if he wasn't by your side.

what he didn't knew was about the nights you spent crying on your room, curtains closed shut and lights off as you called him just to be met with nothing. he never changed his number, you asked his classmates and they told you it was the same but it was weird because why an stranger would wanna know that? so you stopped asking about him, it was for the better.

the second year was harder, trying to forget jason was hard but slowly you managed to stop thinking about him. after breaking up he dropped out of college, none of his friends knew about him, he just disappeared from everywhere so it was easier to erase him from your mind and heart. if only it was possible.

because there would be days where after graduating you drive past the campus just to remember how he used to wait for you at the gates so you could spend a few hours to act the fool on his place or yours. some other days you would be on a store, looking for something you need when one of the songs he used to hum when he cooked started to play all around the place.

you were over him but it didn't took away the sharp pain on your chest, the small tears falling from your eyes just to be met by a "is anything wrong, princess?" and oh, how much you wished he was here, that it was him worrying about you.

it wasn't jason. you know how they say that a nail takes out another? you never thought it could work but it was worth the trying, right? a nice guy to hold your heart so tenderly that you felt safe. that you felt loved.

jason knows it, that's the only reason he's now going less around your block. seeing you with someone else hurts, it makes him so fucking sad he can't stand it and he has been about to knock at your door because he feels so determined to let you in to his world sometimes but he doesn't, he knows he'll be too selfish to try to go back to you after making you suffer so much.

he drives around your block once every two weeks now, he tries to make it part of his patrol so there's sometimes when you're on your couch cuddled by your new boyfriend, too lost to pay attention to any movie he picked up but looking into the window just to be met by a red spot that makes you feel somehow safe but as it comes it goes, maybe the light of the police sirens.

alike jason, there's days when you find yourself on the rooftop of the building where he used to live, sitting on the floor and looking at the sky. the tears stream down your cheeks until one night you hear the heavy stomp of boots and when you turn around the red hood is looking at you.

there's a strange tension on the air, he stands there frozen like a deer in front of a truck and you just look at him about to say something but it's too slow. he's running away, jumping from a rooftop to another like he was beeing chased and maybe it's common. you're not the first gotham citizen that has had an encounter with the vigilantes of the city.

but the way the white sockets of his helmet lingered on yours made you feel calm, the kind of calm jason's presence gave you two years ago and you remember why your face is damp. he knows, jason knows damn well you go sometimes to his old building but he never expected to find you there, crying.

back at his place he stares at the picture again, you used to look so happy... why did he had to ruin it all? it was everything he had from you, that picture to tell him you were never going to come back to him. suddenly being home felt like drowning so it was better to go out, some more patrol and kicking some criminals would make him better.

call it destiny or whatever you want but jason thanks the heavens to his gut feeling. he ends up around his old block, he sees you're leaving the place and it's almost midnight, you carry your bag and walk through the dark alleys to go back to your apartment.

it's weird how things work because you turn to an alley you usually avoid and trouble finds you, there's a group of three men.

"seems like luck has found us, guys" one of them talks, there's a laugh-like rumble on his voice that tells you this is in no way a good thing. they walk in your way, the fear makes you hold onto your bag as if it was the most important thing in life.

"maybe it's our time to have some fun, isn't it?" this time another one speaks, circling around you until your arm is held behind your back. the third of them snatches your bag out of your grip or at least he tries because your hand is clenched around it.

"c'mon, let go of it or you'll get hurt" he warns, his eyes fixed on yours with a glint of anger on them as his hand reaches for something on his back pocket but there you go, playing brave.

"let go off me, i'm gonna fucking scream" your voice sounds firm but there was a slight tremble to it, but the threat just makes them all laugh like a lame joke.

"the little bitch has some guts on her, huh?" the man that was holding your arm snarls, holding you thighter "what if my friend cuts you open so we can see them?" it makes your blood freeze, because at this point your bag is completely snatched from your hold and there's an stinging pain on your stomach.

almost as he was punching you, the man that has your bag presses his fist against your body in a harsh push when he stabs you. the pain is too much it makes you foggy, not being able to fully register what's going on around you miss the sound of bullets and the heavy steps of the combat boots.

there are three thuds across the alley as your attackers fall and all of the sudden there's someone holding you thightly. blurry eyes seeing a faint red speck in front of you and from afar you hear a modulated voice.

"c'mon... don't do this to me" jason mumbles, he's still wearing his helmet and he refuses to take it off. he's not brave enough to look directly at you because on his head this is all his fault "can't do this to me, princess... look at me, please"

maybe it's the shock of your injuries but there's something familiar in the way the red hood calls you princess and it makes your chest ache, your whines turning into crying loudly between his arms because now it's not only the wound that hurts.

"no, no... you have to resist, don't cry like that, baby" he coos, on the edge of losing it all because he feels like dying when you cry desperately holding onto his jacket "you gotta be strong, pretty, you can't leave me"

"why? why did you had to give up just like that?" it comes out of your mouth without even thinking and it makes jason shake because it was almost as if you were talking to him instead to a vigilante that's trying to take care of you.

"calm down, sweetheart, please" he leans in, his hand pressed against the wound once he takes off one of his gloves "you'll hurt yourself more, you just have to let me take you to a hospital" he says, picking you up with so much care, too much tenderness for a guy that once was a crime lord, that has made so much wrong.

he's quick, he supresses his shivering hands because he has to be sure you make it to the hospital in time even if he drives you around in his motorcycle and misses all the red lights, he couldn't care less about it.

later that night, when you are resting into a hospital room he's being scolded by batman but he's too busy pacing around the rooftop, he took off his helmet and his hands are all over his hair and face. jason is trying to gather himself up to see you.

was this all his fault? of course it was. the person he loved the most, the one that brought so many good things to his life was now lying on a hospital bed injured because he had been so stupid and weak.

without thinking twice about it jason sneaks back into the hospital, still on his red hood gear he goes to your room and locks the door before he seats next to the bed. the helmet rests at your feet while his hand holds yours, not feeling able to look at you he cries himself to sleep, his forehead pressed to your knuckles until it's 4 am.

"jason?" your voice is all gruffy, throat dry but you have to speak because jason was right there and you'll be damned if you didn't recognized the jet black hair and that pretty white streak, it felt so soft brushing against your skin before your fingers brushed into the silky strands "jason..."

he wakes up, scared when he feels his hair being ruffled but he settles as soon as he remembers your touch, it soothes him but when your hand stops scratching he looks up.

it hits you like a train, his clothes and the damn red helmet resting at your feet on the bed.

"it's a lot to explain..." jason starts, he knows it's too much because there are things that cannot be talked just like that about him. your fingers are squeezing his and it makes him break down again.

"is this... is this why you didn't wanted me around?" the question itself is enough to make him nod in silence, the tears are starting to flow down again and jason doesn't fight it.

"it sounds so fucking stupid when you say it like that... i feel so fucking stupid" his voice breaks and it's the first time you see him so vulnerable, it makes you want to hug him because even with everything that happened you loved him. how could you not love jason? he had always made you feel safe and understood, because maybe you didn't knew him so well he knew you and he always made sure to let you know he loved you with your every flaw.

"it is so hard to think about it because i feel like you don't deserve to deal with even more shit" he says, looking away "do you... do you know how it feels when i imagine how much danger you'll face around me? i can't stop thinking that you're here because of me, it's everything my fault, y/n."

it's heartbreaking, because you know he is seeing himself as someone who wasn't worth it and ad the red hood it was even worse because everyone knew about what he has done but there's so much more about him than just that.

"it's not your fault... it shouldn't have had happened but i turned into the wrong alley" your voice is low and a soft grunt escapes your lips when you sit yourself up to reach his chin, making jason look at you "and there's no reason why being around you should be easy, who said it had to be everything safe when we live in gotham?"

the small smile that makes it up to your lips makes his heart break, after all his shit, all the hurtful things he said before you were trying to make him laugh.

"i'm so sorry, y/n" he holds your hand again, hiding his face on the mattress of the bed as he cried "i know i'm not perfect, but we can work this out..."

"i know you're not perfect, not as jason todd nor as the red hood" you say, thumb caressing his knuckles as you look into his bloodied hands and notice is the same hand he held pressed against your stomach "but right along all your flaws there's a lot more and with all the shit we've been through... i still love you, just like that"

[amarachno]

There is something… Wrong… With Drake. Its decidedly unsettling. There is something unnatural about the boy and Damian is unsure why they all ignore it. The Drake boy was always weird but this was different. It had started after they had all returned home from patrol one day. Something about Drake was making the hair on Damian’s arms stand at its end. He did not appreciate the way Drake was looking at him. It felt as though he was being looked at the same way a cat looks at an injured bird.

Damian had tried to talk to Pennyworth about it soon after Father’s return from the timestream but all he had managed from the butler had been, “Master Damian, calling Master Timothy an ‘Uncanny Horror from the pits’ is quite rude and I hope you never mention such a sentiment again.”

So obviously the… Thing… could manipulate minds. No matter! Damian would handle it. The first step? Kill it.

Its a good thing Damian has trained from birth in the League of Assassins. Although, his past attempts had unfortunate results —meaning none— but Damian would persevere. Perhaps keeping a closer eye on It would provide some insight.

Whatever had replaced Drake was terrifying. It. Never. Slept. And it always knew when Damian was watching it. The worst part? It was trying to spend TIME with him. Damian could barely stand to be within five feet of it. Its skin pale, hair pitch black, and its eyes- horrifying. When Damian first arrived at the manor, Drake had clear blue eyes. Now, they appeared dull and glassy. The color seeming as though it leaked out into the Thing’s hideous purple eyebags. Its skin seemed too loose and Its joints bent and stretched grotesquely.

The Thing turned its chair around, taking a break from staring at the computer in the cave. It stretched its spindly arms above its head, arms bending too far in the other direction. It turned to where Damian was hidden in a ledge in the roof of the Batcave.

“Heyyy Damian.” The Thing slurred, its speech slow and unclear. “If you want’d ta watch m’ do casework ya could’ve joined me”

Damian recoiled further into what should have been a flawless hiding space. He wanted to snap back that he didnt need Its company but his tongue seemed glued to the too of his mouth.

The Thing looked right at where Damian had hidden away. “Aww B’by Bat!” It cooed softly, “Come on down. Lets go g’t some hot chocolate from Alfie!”

Damian pressed tighter to the wall, attempting to force out a sentence. “That is quite alright, Drake. I am fine here.” He said attempting to sound steady.

“Well, suit yourself! Gonna go up now.” The Thing stumbled toward the stairs, its footsteps silent even as it walked unsteadily.

Damian didn’t leave his spot until Richard arrived in the cave two hours later.

Poison may actually work, Damian decided. Theoretically. The Thing was only inhabiting Drake’s body. Perhaps if the body died then so would the… Whatever it was. Damian is so prepared, father should be impressed- or he would be when that cursed being was out of the house. But what if someone else drank from the cup meant for Drake? Father would not tolerate a mission gone wrong, especially if Grayson or Pennyworth were harmed.

Then Damian remembered Drake’s travel cup, the one it took to work. That was simple enough. Sneak out to Its car, put the poison in the straw, get out. Yes finally a decent plan. Or at least Damian thought so.

Damian’s plan went off without a hitch. He had gained access to the security cameras within Wayne Enterprises and watched Drake drink the entire cup of poisoned coffee. The issue? The poison had no effect. Not even a stomach ache. Clearly the Thing was immune to poisons.

Perhaps silver would deal some damage.

Damian decided to purchase a silver knife. He had tested it and everything! It was real silver. Much of his savings from his allowance had been spent on the thing but this would be worth it.

People were getting suspicious though. Of Damian. Not of The Thing, to be clear.

How idiotic were these people! And they called themselves ‘Detectives’. No matter, Damian could handle this!

In the books that Damian had found, They mentioned fire as a potential weakness to supernatural creatures. If the silver knife did nothing, Damian would fall back and begin plan C. C for Cocktail. Molotov cocktail, to be exact.

Unfortunately, neither plans B nor C would come to fruition. Damian had been caught before he could even attempt either plan.

“Hey Dami, are you feeling okay?” Richard asked from behind Damian.

Damian didn’t scream. He didn’t! He also didn’t drop his book in surprise.

Richard surged forward to grab Damian before he fell from his spot on top of the T-Rex. “Hey bud, its okay. Its just me.” He soothed, wrapping his arms around Damian and carrying him off the T-Rex. “Why don’t you tell me whats going on?”

Damian gasped wriggling out of Dick’s arms to grab his sketchbook/impromptu demon hunting memoir off the ground where it fell. He clutched the book in his arms. “Nothing is wrong, I was simply lost in thought. You may go.” Damian snapped out, legs shaking and breath uneven.

Dick furrowed his brow, “Ive never seen you this shaken up before, Bitty Bat. Come here, we can talk about this upstairs over some cocoa.”

Damian’s eyes widened, if he could convince Richard then surely the Thing could be taken care of. “Very well, if we must.”

Dick smiled gently, though it seemed a little shaky. ”Up we go then!” Dick exclaimed, grabbing Damian and hoisting him onto his shoulders.

“Richard! this is unbecoming!” Damian squawked, holding onto Dick’s head so he wouldnt fall off.

Instead of replying, Dick just began making airplane noises, running toward the entrance to the manor.

It would have been a sweet moment, had The Thing not been standing right behind the grandfather clock. His sudden appearance had startled Damian so badly he fell backwards off Dick’s shoulders.

Damian braced for impact, expecting to head his head and then tumble down the concrete stairs- only, that didnt happen. The Thing threw itself backwards into the ground, his upper half on the stairs and his lower half on the floor. Damian fell heavily onto the Creature, knocking the wind out of It.

“OH MY GOD! ARE YOU TWO OKAY??!” Dick screeched at the top of his lungs. He picked Damian up off of The Thing and resting him on his hip, offering his other hand to ‘Drake’. Unfortunately, Damian’s adrenaline kicked in.

“PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!” Damian bellowed, squirming out of Dick’s grip. “ITS GOING TO KILL US! WE ANGERED IT AND WE NEED TO GO!” Damian began pulling Dick toward the door of the study.

Alarmed, Dick turned to look closer at Damian. His face was pale, eyes wide and glancing frantically around the room and then back at Tim. Damian was sweating, looking as if he were seconds from bursting into tears. “What are yo-“

“It knows i know” Damian gasped out, pulling desperately at Dick’s arm. “ITS GOING TO KILL ME! WE NEED TO GET SOMEWHERE SAFE!”

Damian was working himself into a panic. Dick threw an apologetic glance at Tim who was brushing himself off and looking bewildered at Damian. Dick turned toward the door, allowing Damian to drag him where he wanted to go.

As soon as Damian was out the door, he took off running, forcing Dick to run with him. They got inside Damian’s room and Dami immediately began barricading the door.

“Damian, what’s going on?” Dick questioned softly.

Instead of answering, Damian started rushing around his room. He pulled the silver knife out from between his mattress and the boxspring, grabbed a lighter and what looked like a molotov cocktail from the top of his closet.

Dick was becoming more alarmed by the second. Why in tarnation did Damian have a molotov cocktail just sitting around??? Dick quickly snatched both objects away from Damian, setting them on top if the highest shelf in the room. It wouldn’t stop Damian for long but it would give Dick some time.

When both objects where taken from Damian, he stopped in his tracks, looking fearfully at Dick. “Did it- Are you…” Damian began sobbing. “I don’t want to die. Please don’t kill me, please! I’ll be an asset to you! I swear it! I’ll be good!” Damian’s pleading and sobbing was met with Dick gently hugging Damian to his chest. And like a puppet with its wires cut, Damian passed out into Dick’s arms.

“Oh shit!” Dick exclaimed. He felt at Damian’s forehead, flinching back at how hot he felt. Dick grabbed his phone and called Bruce. “Hey Bruce, I’m gonna need you to come home. Somethings wrong with Damian.” Dick set Damian on the bed and got to work un barricading the door.

“What happened?” Bruce questioned, sounding more like Batman than Bruce. “Is everyone okay?”

“Dick relayed the events that happened that afternoon while getting Damian down to the cave. He was tucked in to a bed in the med bay, a cold rag set on his forehead.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Bruce murmured into the phone. “Im on my way now. I’ll be there in 15.”

“Bruce, that’s a 30 minute drive.” Dick said incredulously.

“Hnn” Bruce grunted, hanging up.

Dick pinched two fingers to the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. he turned to see Tim waiting in the doorway.

“Is he okay?” Tim questioned softly.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know what happened.” Dick replied tiredly.

Tim sighed, “I noticed he was acting a little weird, but I kind of just thought I had pissed him off?” Tim said. “He’s been following me around recently. And I think he poisoned my coffee? I mean, maybe it wasn’t him. But, the other day, my coffee tasted weird, I drank it anyway of course, but I felt really sick that night. It probably didn’t work because I built my poison resistance up while I was looking for Bruce but-“ Tim cut off his rambling, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Dick sighed, putting his face in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Tim. We were making a lot of progress, before. But now I might need to set the ‘Days Since Last Familicide’ dry erase board back to zero.” Dick said tiredly. “I thought I had finally made him feel safe here.”

Tim looked off to the side, “What if its not either of your faults?” He offered, tilting his head. “Maybe he got injured and never told anyone. here why don’t I draw his blood and I’ll run it through. we’ll be able to tell if he’s been injured or injected with something.”

Dick agreed and Tim ran Damian’s blood. While they waited, sat by Damian’s side and ran his hands through the kid’s hair. Soon enough, the test results were done and Bruce got back.

“Good timing, Bruce.” Tim called, “I was just about to go through the results” he added.

Bruce stalked forward, standing next to Damian and feeling his forehead and cheeks. “When did this fever start?” Bruce questioned softly.

“I dont know, B. I only realized when he passed out earlier.” Dick replied.

Bruce turned and walked towards the computer where the results were, looking through the blood test to figure out what was wrong.

“Bruce, it looks like he got hit with fear toxin.” Tim pointed out. “ Maybe a new strain, a slow-acting one. That would explain why he’s been acting so weird recently. Did you fight Crane on patrol last week?”

Bruce slapped his hand over his face, slowly dragging it down. “We found one of his abandoned labs. We split off for about 10 minutes to check out different rooms. He said he didn’t find anything though.” Bruce said guilty.

Dick cried out, “Bruce that was so stupid! And you didn’t even check him for anything afterwards?”

Bruce shook his head. “I owe him an apology.” He said sadly. He walked over and administered an antidote.

“Well, theres no use dwelling on it now.” Tim pointed out. “Dick and Bruce, you can stay here and wait for the kid to wake up. He seemed the most freaked out by me so I think I’ll go upstairs. I don’t think I’ve slept this week anyway.” Tim muttered that last part, but Bruce and Dick heard it anyway.

“Timmy, what have I told you about staying up that long?” Dick admonished.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll sleep now I guess. If im not awake in 20 hours, wake me up. I have presentations to put together for next week.” Tim said exasperated.

Bruce waved him off, “I’ll take care of it, Chum.”

Tim shot a thumbs up over shoulder and then walked out of the cave.

with the antidote administer, the only thing left to do was wait. When Damian woke up. He began trying to explain that Tim had been taken over by some creature, though, all his evidence was debunked.

“Drake looks like a corpse!” Damian exclaimed.

“Yeah I’ve been telling him to go out in the sun more often. He also just told us he hasn’t slept yet this week and its Friday.” Dick explained calmly.

“Okay, then what about the weird way he moves? I’ve seen him stretch his limbs bend the wrong way” Damian pleaded.

“Tim is hyper mobile, Dami. His joints just do that. It’s honestly a little freaky so I get it. I mean, mine are bendy and all, but not that way.” Dick replied patiently.

Damian looked down, ashamed. “How did he survive the poison? That was League specific.”

Dick thought about his answer for a moment, “Apparently, while he was looking for Bruce, Tim trained up his poison tolerance. I don’t know why he did that or how he got his hands on league poison.”

Damian shoved his face into his hands. “I was going to stab him with a silver knife… and then said him on fire.” Damian said, embarrassed.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Bruce finally spoke up. “All of that is on me. I should’ve had you decontaminated and tested after patrol last week. If I had, then you wouldn’t of had to spend this week scared.”

“I wasn’t scared!” Damian claimed, his face burning.

“Sure bud, but it’s okay if you were.” Dick said gently. “But anyway. We can talk about this later. For now, why don’t I get Alfred to bring you something to eat.”

“That would be acceptable, I suppose.”

——

(later over comms)

Tim: Yo Jason I gotta tell you how I wouldve been murdered this time

Jason: How?

Tim: Demon Brat made me my very own molotov cocktail!

Jason: *dies of laughter* HOLY SHIT!

Damian: Cease this senseless mockery!

Jason: No, kid, its badass *laughs more* priceless.

[ge-nde-rr-env-y]

i played owen carvour in a production of spies in sydney, and tcb i have a confession i added a line. in the man behind the curtain reveal, owen says "if it hadn't been for my spot on aim and interest in foreign policy, i might have been an actor." i had about a month between application and audition and i was sitting on the first paragraph for so long and i got a bit bored. so i added "and you know, being blackmailed by the english" to that list. it added this manic, pained spark to the moment. fuel for the fire.

i dont know what joey thinks about owens history, but i gave him a timeline. born 1926 (nov 14th. scorpio bitch.), his fine family home destroyed in the Blitz, he enlists for some income (and maybe to escape home) at 17 in 1943, too young, but he's slick and clever enough to pass as an adult. 1945, right before the end of the war, he sees something he shouldnt have. the higher ups in a below the table deal that could ruin a lot of rich and powerful peoples lives if it reaches the wrong hands. owen carvours hands were the wrong hands. but he's a remarkable soldier, he's quick, he's a master tactician, and he's Good At Lying. hes useful. so instead of taking him out. someone says "hey kid. howd you like to be a secret agent. -also if you say no you'll die-" no choice. he'll continue to live at the behest of a governments will.

he doesnt Like being a spy, but its not the worst thing in the world. he likes the more decadent aspects, certainly, and deception not only comes naturally, but brings a sort of thrill.

he doesn't like being a spy until he meets curt mega. this part of his history is a bit blurry, but i imagine them meeting sometime near 1952 (because of the song Video Killed The Radio Star), surely on the job somewhere. curt makes spying fun. and curt is the first real thing owen has had reliably since 1943. he doesnt change, hes delightfully predictable, and despite him appearing somewhat less intelligent than owen, he has this knack for seeing straight through to owens heart. curt is daring, where owen might be intially more cautious. curt has the guts to get the two of them *into* situations, where owen has the tactician skill to get them *out*.

i think owen got comfortable. tragically, the two of them were so in sync, so reliant on each other, that he didnt see the fall coming at all.

it wasnt the fall that hurt. it was watching curt walk away. he'd always thought that if this were to happen, theyd go down together.

CHIMERA found him in the rubble, a boy who'd always been controlled, who'd never really got a chance to live a life of his own, and saw a man who was easy both to manipulate, and to empower.

they weren't aggressive about their agenda because they knew what would happen. the founder/ceo (a man i have decided is named Thomas) simply let owen recover in their facilities and let him free when he was able to leave, with an explanation of their plan, and an offer of further help should he require it.

owen broke within a month. a string of killings across europe simply attributed to an individual named The Deadliest Man Alive. CHIMERA drags owen back by the scruff of his neck.

"what the hell do you think you're doing."

"what? who are they going to arrest? owen carvours fucking dead."

its very important to me that owen wasnt brainwashed by CHIMERA. every choice has to come from him because the catharsis of him fully believing in the ideology he carries out with his chest for the first time is just delicious.

he doesnt. hate curt. i dont think. he loves curt, and he hates the institution of Espionage that forced them into this. but ultimately, that institution is so driven into curt that owen cant get what he really wants, which is to break curt out of that and have him all to himself. coldest goodbye reprise is a moment of sorrowful acceptance for both of them. owen understands that curt is always going to be a spy, no matter what, and giving up on the fantasy he had.