#and 'i hate to break it to you patrick but eventually no one will come'

[natjennie]

holy fuck ghosts has some hardcore lines that actually make me want to weep. I just remembered "I'm sorry you lost the sister you never had" "you're the sister I never had" and I was OVERCOME.

[keerysfreckles]

sparks fly — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread

a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.

the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.

y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.

she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.

during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.

y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.

however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.

he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.

sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.

on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.

"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.

"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."

y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.

"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.

she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.

"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"

y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.

"who do you think you are?"

as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.

"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.

his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.

she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.

y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.

she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.

patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.

y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.

once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.

as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.

in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.

y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.

she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.

she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.

what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–

the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.

cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.

"oh darling," cisca starts.

"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.

"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.

"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.

minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.

cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"

she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.

cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.

after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.

"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.

"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.

lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.

"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.

once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.

"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.

he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.

he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.

he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.

"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.

lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.

her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.

"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.

"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.

"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."

"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.

he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.

"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.

"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."

lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."

y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.

"you can't go back there y/n."

"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."

lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."

after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.

"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."

it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.

seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.

he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.

he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.

"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."

y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."

lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.

"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."

y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.

tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.

"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"

y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.

"please, let me take you back in–"

now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.

lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.

"now can you please come back inside?"

"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.

[yeahtimesten]

18+, mdni

on a night that patrick zweig is visiting your dorm, you take a shower in your attached bathroom. you both have just finished each other off and you’re ready to wash off the smell of sex and the muck of the day before bed.

you’ve done a good job of setting the mood while you wash yourself. the lights are off, a wild rose & suede candle is lit, and your shower mixed cd is playing sade’s no ordinary love on your portable speaker. sensual, sultry, and succulent. the hot steam leaking out from the shower door entices patrick to join you in the bathroom…

to take a piss right next you in your toilet.

“what the fuck pat,” you sigh. “get out of here!! you’re ruining the vibes.”

“relax, i’m just pissing before i join you.” he looks over at you and smirks. “unless, you really want me to leave you alone.” he’s sure you wouldn’t tell him to fuck off after the way he just… fucked you off. even if he’s totally disgusting you right now.

“the showers too small,” you look at him with a slight pout, but he finishes his business and slides open the shower door anyways.

“come on, stanford will thank me for conserving the water.” he crawls into the shower with you. he’s looking around at all your shampoos, conditioners, body scrubs, the bush of eucalyptus hanging off your shower head. it’s a shame the shower heads not detachable, and the water pressure is ass, he thinks. must be why she jumps me every time i come around.

“i told you it’s cramped in here,” you smirk at him as he snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you close. he rests his forehead on yours and looks deep into your entrancing irises. you’re staring right back, butterflies in your stomach, riding the high from ride you took on him about 20 minutes ago.

“we’ll make room,” he whispers. “switch me.” you oblige, and slide past him, your bodies pressed against each other. the lack of water falling on you feels uncomfortable at first, but the steam from the boiling water keeps you warm and relaxed. out of your eye sight, he grabs something from your hanging shower caddy.

“hey, that’s my loofa,” you whine. “get your own.” but you’re just teasing, messing with him. but he’s not in the mood for jokes.

he doesn’t break eye contact as he lathers it up with your favorite scented soap. it’s his favorite as well. he loves to smell it on you.

your breath hitches as he presses your cute pink loofa on your stomach, lightly tracing circles around your belly button. you look down and watch the soap lather, before you look back up at him. he looks hungry but he’s patient. with one hand, he’s scrubbing you, and the other he’s tracing your body with his fingertips. he makes his way up your breasts. he grabs the side of your left boob and scales his thumb over your nipple. he’s biting his lip, and you can tell he’s in the mood again, but he’s finishing his duty, cleaning up the mess he made of you earlier this night.

he kneels down in front of you, still refusing to break eye contact. he’s working on your legs now, starting from your ankles, your left and then your right, taking his sweet ass time while he works his way up. he’s at your knees now and you’re really starting to feel it. feeling teased. you’re letting him play the long game, but it’s becoming painful. eventually he reaches your mid thigh, then he’s pushing his hand into your upper thighs, forcing you to spread your legs for him a bit.

you’re not sure what possesses you to, but you grab your shampoo. he’s looking at you a bit dumbfounded, but you reach down and start to lather it into his hair. at first he slows down working on you, but he continues, his fingers barely brushing your clit. your heart is beating fast. you love and hate this feeling. is he being patient or is he teaching you patience? your head is flung back at this point.

you feel his hot breath on you, now. as his mouth cups around your vagina. your legs spread more for him, and a sigh escapes your lips. you gently scratch his scalp as you latch onto his curls and he’s practically purring into you. his tongue brushes against your clit and your knees become weak. fuck he’s so good. you feel wetter by the second, not just due to the shower pouring onto you.

he’s forgotten the loofa now, and his hands are snaking up your legs to your ass. grabbing, jiggling, rubbing. he’s obsessed, worshipping your body in its entirety. he sees you as a goddess, he’ll sacrifice his whole being for the taste of you, the touch of you, the love from you.

he’s done with the teasing. he’s lapping you up with his tongue, and you’re absolutely coming undone on top of him. your moans bless his ears, he’ll work so hard to hear you say his name. he adjusts the position of his arm to return his hand to your pussy, and he starts curling into your cunt with two fingers.

“fuck, patrick, oh my god.” there it is. your sweet voice turned gravelly over his touch. this is what he lives for. “just like that, baby, i’m gonna cum.” he knows it’s foolish to go faster or harder or change anything about his motion. he takes your words like an order. just like that, he keeps going.

he reaches that sweet spot, and it sends you over the moon. now, you’ve come completely undone. he slows down, not really to give up the taste of you. until finally, your huffs of breath calm down, and he meets you back at his normal height. you’re speechless, and your chest, still lathered in suds, is heaving, but his eyes aren’t leaving your face. it’s totally flush, your body heat caught on your cheeks and your vagina still. he has you pulsating and your legs are jelly.

he takes a step towards you, and his hard cock presses against your abdomen, your breasts against his chest. you wrap your soft manicured hands around his shaft and slowly run it up and down his length. he feels complete honor that you let him choose the polish color last time you got them done, as you prepped for his visit.

what color nails do you want to see wrapped around your dick, baby? you had texted him just yesterday. he sent you money for your full set plus a pedicure, as well as a generous tip for your nail lady.

and speaking of tips, you run your thumb over the ridge of his, and he enthralls you into a kiss that starts off sweet, as a few pecks, but turns deep and passionate in seconds.

“i love you,” he says. and it’s the first time.

and maybe to some people that would be a red flag, being told ‘i love you’ for the first time during a sexual encounter. but after the way he’s treated you so far during his visit, the texts and calls he gave you as you awaited the arrival of his train, the luxurious dress he bought you with a dinner date to match, and all the other gifts he’s collected over the last month to bring back to you as he travels the country. you believe he means it with everything in him.

“i love you too.”

despite his throbbing cock waiting desperately for attention in your hands, he’s not ready to take you for another round yet. he and you rinse off and hop out of the shower. your towel is wrapped around you and you flop onto your bed. you unwrap it, revealing your perfect body for him, fully expecting him to jump on top of you and fuck into you again. you’re ready.

but instead, he grabs the lotion, scent complimentary to your soap, from your dresser. you look up at him and he looks down at you. he starts popping your toes, much to your surprise. it’s heartwarming and so extremely intimate. smiling up at him, you feel a different kind of warmth come over you. when you said you loved him back, you meant it. and the feeling washing over you in this moment proves it. you’re blushing, and a huge smile paints his face, his cheeks as rosy as yours.

he takes your lotion and squirts some into his hands. he starts with your feet, lightly massaging the bottom of them. he kisses your big toe before he leverages your ankle over his shoulder. he works his way up your legs again, just as he did in the shower. the scent is turning him ravenous, animalistic. and the way you’re looking up at him with all the sweetest in the world, it’s driving him up the wall. his cock is still rock hard as he rubs you down. not like it takes much from you to cause these types of effects on his body. you could look at him and he’s chubbing up.

he’s discarded your bottle of lotion by now and he’s crawling on top of you, digging into the crook of your neck. and you’re feeling as crazy about him as he is about you.

he feels accomplished, he’s primped and preened and pampered you for round two.

[poppy-metal]

i LOVE blocked messy patrick sm. “wdym i didn’t love u? girl does 40$ cacio e pepe mean nothing to you?” gets angry you’re even around other men as he’s fucking other girls as we speak. he is SO ready to rehash every single argument of your relationship, even years on because he still cares so much about everything to do with you. he will fight you about everything as long as it keeps you talking to him. patrick is king of never letting go. once he loves someone he never stops, like a mistreated dog. and you always love him. and he knows you always will. he’s a firm believer, he never for one second believed your break up was the end. he maintains the right to be annoyed at you for everything you do even when you’re not with him, because you’re still with him really. you’ll never not be with him. you’ll never not be his. i love him.

HELP.

texting him back immediately like "you're such a child i dont know why i unblocked you," to which he hits you back with "you can unadd me but you can't unsuck my dick."

you get so annoyed and drawn into you're like oh please your dick was too small to remember you by and you both know thats a hard lie, and hes not wasting a second reminding you how you moaned on it and if you still act clueless about it he'll just have to send you that video he took that one time - of you fucking yourself back on his cock, completely whoring out, babbling "its so big daddy - fuck, fuck, yes - i love it -"

you tell him he shouldn't be holding onto videos like that and hes a freak knowing damn well you still have all the nut videos he sent you saved to your camera roll (thats beside the point) eventually he says something like

get all that brat out so i have a reason to come shut you the fuck up you're really starting to piss me off

im never letting you fuck me again, you fucking dickhead i hate you

yeah keep lying to me I'll make sure to cash all that in next time I'm inside that pussy

you block him. pretend you aren't throbbing between the legs and thrilled at the knowledge you'll definitely see him again - and he'll definitely make good on that promise.

[russsiangirl]

patrick zweig x reader headcanons! ( older and younger included. )

thinking about patrick zweig and you having some sort of arranged relationship..

he's still with his family, maybe on holiday break from boarding school

your parents don't wanna risk the chance of you running off to be with some 'hoodlum' so they talk with the zweigs and boom! thats how you two ended up dating

well, dating might not be the best word to describe it

patrick is the literal opposite of what you want in a guy ( for now )

he's crass, has no etiquette ( outrageous! ), smokes AND disrespectful - like he's just such a prick!

i mean he has to be compensating for something,, he's not.

you try to avoid him as best as you can but he's always there, lurkin..

eventually you agree to one date. just one, that's it.

he takes you to some bougie place and you're shocked, i mean yeah he's rich, but you didn't know he was this rich, richer than you.

you learned some shit about him, he played tennis, had a best friend at boarding school, bla blah blah, usual rich boy shit

you decide to have some fun with this though

patrick zweig teaching you tennis :3

you purposely fuck with him on this, just to be mean

wear lil tennis skirts that show just the right amount of skin, act dumb so he has get up behind you and hold you by the waist so he can show you the 'proper stance'

nothing about this demonstration is proper, he's right behind you, practically pressing himself up against you, and you can smell the sweat mixed with his god-awful cologne and it's so enticing

wtf is so great ab this man!! he is js a man !!!!!

you don't know either, but lets just say that there wasn't much tennis played that day. or ever

y'all aren't dating, more like smth 'casual'

he so sends texts like 'you up?' at like 4am in the morning, why tf are u awake go back to sleep

sometimes you just wanna throttle him

i KNOW for a fact that he's a dick

he angers you on purpose, does shit to make you mad just because he likes seeing you that way

he's the type to leave after a fight and come back only to not talk to you, like bro where is the apology. where is the groveling and desperation.

he's such a tease as well, always poking fun. 'fun', its not fun when hes coming up behind you when you're with your friends and hes pressing up against you like bro! now is not the time to be a freak!

its different if y'all met when y'all were older though,, bc god i have a love-hate relationship with older!patrick.

like he's such a bum, sleeps in his car

but also like i feel the urge to take care of him

and force him to take a shower.

you probably met bc you were at the challenger and remembered him from the juniors us open! which he won! also the challenger was happening close to where you lived

you didn't know he was playing here, the only reason you went was bc your friend had accidentally bought an extra ticket and you thought 'why not'

he sees you and he's like 'woah' bc who wouldn't be at the sight of you, you're the next target

he chases you down after the game and is like 'here's my number, you can call or whatever..'

well you do, lets say you've been having a bit of a dry spell and patrick is oh so willing to help! ( he's a freak. )

this relationship is rocky though

he's not doing well in tennis and he's, broke..

he's also not big on words of affirmation,, or romantic gestures

he's still crass like he was when he was younger, never grew out of it.

always so forward in the way he talks

arguments with him are so mean :(( calling you allll sorts of mean names that have you in tears

can't resist tho, bc it's patrick zweig

yeah guys,, i love patrick zweig !!!!! like and repost ofc if u liked it

[that-house]

can you tell us more about dronestrike & the campaign theyre from?

just read thhe post about it & immediately became obsessed

(context: Dronestrike is my warrior cats OC, an american imperialist robot cat the size of a horse and equipped with enough firepower to wipe out the clans if it seems like they're at risk of falling to communism. in the oneshot he accidentally fired a nuke at the city of LA and blamed "every other country" in a phone call with Bidenstar to avoid getting in trouble)

it wasn't a campaign, just an 11-person oneshot in the single most chaotic discord voice call I have ever been in. so i haven't played him since then, nor will i ever play him again

i can provide you a variety of facts about him i came up with after the fact though because he's a funny enough character that i can't stop thinking about him:

his brain is composed of three parts with an equal amount of control over his actions: the soul of a vietnam veteran, an AI replica of a cat, and every single super bowl halftime commercial

he comes armed with combat knives for claws, a machine gun in his mouth, a high caliber sniper rifle built into his spine, a pistol that he somehow uses with cat paws, and a douglas air-2 genie air-to-air unguided nuclear missile

transition could not save him because all trans people are godless communists who bully him on twitter

Dronestrike acknowledges every independence movement if only so that America has more countries to eventually colonize

he has read Marx so he can misuse quotes and flex on any marxists who haven't read theory

his greatest wish is for america to have won 'nam

doesn’t really have any physical possessions because he’s a cat who doesn’t have pockets or a permanent residence. he does however have $8.6 million in Shell oil stock

Dronestrike if he played League of Legends: only plays champs who have america-themed skins, but doesn’t actually own the skins because that would be giving money to a chinese company. plays all of them jungle to poor results. iron 4 two thousand games this season

has no mouth but wishes he did so he could taste the burgers that honest Americans have died to defend

Dronestrike's dream world is world war 3, with the stipulation that there is an american flag superimposed over EVERYONE'S vision instead of just his

if he had 24 hours to live he would start a “second american revolution” by attacking England

he isn't a good kisser: no lips, he's a cat, and also george washington famously said that romantic connections weaken your spiritual link with The State

response to being trapped in a maze of mirrors: breaks through the mirrors without noticing, but also can’t recognize his reflection. Thinks he has to fight these teleporting commie clones of himself to save the United States of America

he's on Santa's naughty list

on Halloween he dresses up as George Washington and “trick or disappears” journalists

Dronestrike hates the reds, the brits, women, and most importantly, himself

prefers fundamentals over schmovement

favorite board game is Monopoly because watching people go bankrupt or be imprisoned is one of his hobbies

his happiest memory is his first glimpse of an amazon packaging facility and the horrible conditions of the workers

favorite season is summer: 4th of July babey!!! the holiday where you're allowed to blow shit upppp!!! he also frequently sets off fireworks in the off season to scare dogs and people with anxiety

doesn’t date but he sends tech billionaires unethically farmed flowers sometimes

doesn’t play video games but he has a simulated CoD lobby’s chat going at all times in his head. they call him slurs whenever he misses a shot

relates strongly to Patrick Bateman

he was in ShadowClan. they picked which clan he would be deployed into by having him take the official "which clan are you" quiz

sometimes he doubts that he has the heart of a true warrior

[tricktits]

bestie more pregnancy content please please please

ask and you shall receive anon! hope this floats your boat xoxo

-

“do you think it’s lonely in there?” patrick looked up at pete with what appeared to be genuine concern; furrowed brows, watery eyes, and parted lips. he was absentmindedly running a hand over his barely-a-bump. if anything his chest was sticking out more than his stomach at this point.

pete stifled a chuckle at the question. “while attached to you 24/7?” he smiled brightly in an attempt to reassure him, grasping patrick’s chin gently so he could run a thumb over his bottom lip. “if i was growing inside you, you couldn’t pay me to leave.” he eased the tip of his thumb in patrick’s mouth, who eagerly accepted it; tonguing it over with what could only be described as slutty elegance.

eventually, and reluctantly, pete released his thumb. he admired the trail of spit that connected it to patrick’s mouth for a few seconds more than he reasonably should’ve before wiping the excess fluid onto patrick’s chin.

“ewww” patrick giggled in spite of his vocalized disgust, squirming in pete’s grip not unlike a small puppy.

“feeling better yet?” pete had been dealing with patrick’s non-issues for the better part of a couple months now. pregnancy hormones would truly be the death of him.

patrick’s sweet smile quickly dissipated. “no… you’re not getting it.” he pouted with an audible hmph, the little drama queen. “i want another one in there.” he made a pointed gesture at his stomach as if pete wasn’t aware that’s where it was being kept. “i want the baby to have a sibling. keep ‘em company.”

unlike the previous concern, this statement was not immune from an audible chortle. pete practically bent himself in half from laughter. something that clearly ruffled patrick if his crossed arms and reddened face were anything to go by.

“look, cookie jar,” pete spoke gently after recovering from his laughing fit, rubbing a hand across patrick’s thigh, a comforting gesture that went unnoticed. “hate to break it to ya, but once a baby’s inside you, i can’t put anymore in until the first one comes out.”

patrick’s pout had softened into a mere frown. “can’t you try?”

before pete could form a reply that would’ve broken down to ‘there’s no way pregnancy makes you this ignorant of 6th grade biology’ patrick had taken it upon himself to turn around, giving pete a view of patrick’s denim clad ass, its newly thickened perfectly-ripened-peach roundness clearly straining itself against the seams.

patrick whines, trying to look at pete from over his shoulder. “please, please please. gimme another one. i want another one. i want 3 in there. i want 10.”

6th grade biology was probably a conspiracy. it just didn’t want people to have fun.

[vampylily]

hold on. peterick sentinel x guide au. the Bond. the slightly unhealthy codependency. having to hold themselves together for the sake of the agency/band even though they're breaking apart. physically needing each other. anger at being forced together but loving each other all the same. hating that one side of the pair is putting themselves in danger for the mission. how many times can i wait for you to come back to me so i can fix you, until one day, you don't?

i feel like either dynamic works.

sentinel!patrick x guide!pete: sentinel!patrick is begrudging towards the whole guide process, which is essentially healing via sex/physical touch and kind of hides away from physical intimacy w his assigned guide!pete. patrick might be new to the agency, but he's lived with his powers for all his life and he prides on having control (but he has that control bc he blew up in the past and he keeps a very tight control on his emotions so it doens't trigger his powers). so even as he goes on missions, he doesn't /need/ pete's guiding. so after the necessary hand holding, patrick usually leaves quickly.

and pete on the other hand, he's been at the agency for longer, and he hasn't found a sentinel. and he's kind of insecure about it, thinks that he's kind of a unstable guide bc of his track record - he'd be paired up with a sentinel and they'd start off as compatible, but as time goes by, it just. stopped working. and while no one has /blamed/ pete, pete kind of blames himself for not being a good guide. so when patrick turns up and pete and patrick has like a super high compatability score, pete is over the moon bc he instantly clicks with this new guy and he really wants it to work. so he puts in the extra work of trying to be really friendly and cheerful, and being clingy and touchy to ease patrick into physical intimacy they'll eventually have to do, but patrick keeps on brushing him off. and pete can feel through their psychic link that patrick doesn't hate him or anything, it's just, it feels like patrick is deliberately putting a wall in between them.

so there's angst and misunderstanding and the slightly dubious consent nature of guiding that pete is now used to, and patrick does not like, until Something Happens and patrick really needs the guiding to heal. more angst. they kiss, they make up, etc. etc.

guide!patrick x sentinel!pete: i feel like this would follow the slightly more usual sentinel guide au route, where we have the super powerful sentinel who is really reckless and is devoted to the mission and doesn't really care if they come back alive (and maybe slightly brainwashed into thinking they're just an asset for the agency). pete's known all his life he's destined for greatness, he's got all this powers, etc and even though he's burning himself alive, he gets back to the field right away. he's never had a guide that was compatible with him, so the pain he feels after a mission is something he's used to.

and guide!patrick. he knows pete isn't doing well, but he feels like there's little he can do. and he's heartsick over constantly waiting for pete to come back, because he wonders every single mission if this one is the one where pete is not going to come back from. and there's this unhealthy edge to it because there's the psychic link and all the emotions are jumbled together.

so when pete first gets the guiding from patrick, his knees almost buckles bc he's never felt this /relief/ before where there's no pain in his body and the sensation of patrick's warm hand in his. so once he's gotten a taste of the guiding, he keeps coming back to get guiding. but it doesn't stop him from continuing to be reckless on missions. it's second nature to him at this point, that he doesn't even consider that he has someone to come back to. and so there's this internal conflict where he knows he has patrick, but it doesn't stop him from going back to his previous behaviour. and there's another sick edge where he's so addicted to the relief the guiding brings, that he almost relishes in being hurt in a mission because that means patrick is going to come and fix him.

and patrick does. he cries, he shakes, his nails cut his palms waiting for pete to come back, but each time, he goes and he "fixes" pete up. and they know what they're doing, /how/ they're carrying out this sentinel/guide bond is wrong, but they can't stop bc they each think they won't be able to heave the other if this stops.

and so there's more angst, Something Big Happens, does pete fails to return from the battlefield one day, does patrick say enough is enough i need to leave, are they forced to carry on like this bc the agency likes the Results? who knows.

[strawbrygashez]

I’m gonna talk about my uhh au I guess no one cares about again. The pat/Paul/Tyler/Narrator thing.

Patrick

•Dating Paul

•Tries to put on a show of relating to the narrator since they are both office workers but inside he’s going on a whole monologue about how he’s better than him, has to do less work than him, and etc.

•Wants to shove forks into Tylers eyes because Tyler is even ‘worse’ than Paul when it comes to being perfect without even trying. Also yes he’s already dating another man but he doesn’t like being reminded he’s gay. And looking at Tyler.. gay feelings come up.

He also hates that Tyler can read him like a book so easily.

Narrator

•Dating Tyler of course.

•Friends with Paul because they honestly got the same kinda humor. Met on a business trip and actually do relate about both being office workers. Paul knows he’s in a better position but isn’t gonna be thinking about it really. He might poke fun about it but 🤷‍♀️ Somehow the narrator is completely oblivious to the fact for some reason Paul and Angelface look extremely alike.

They wouldn’t do anything sus together unless Tyler told narrator to.

•Is only kinda creeped out by Patrick. He’s used to weird office workers who are above him so he’s not really that uncomfortable though. He just plays along with the way Patrick talks to him.

He’ll make fun of him with Tyler later in private.

Tyler

•Wants to beat up Patrick so bad and honestly would probably tell him that he might enjoy it. He can tell Patrick is keeping a lot of things pent up and would love to see him take it out in a fight WITHOUT WEAPONS.

He’ll tell Patrick to shut the fuck up when he’s bragging about how nice his apartment is and will give him the whole ‘You’re not the things you own’ speech.

He wants to break him down sooo much.

Wouldn’t do anything sus with him tho unless Jack is okay with it.

•Kinda meh about Paul. He’s the one who pointed out he looks like Angelface to narrator. (which pissed Jack off bc NO his bff doesn’t look like ‘that slut’)

Paul

•Really enjoys just hanging out with the other three :3 he doesn’t have any weird shit going thru his head like Tyler & Patrick do. He’s just sitting there looking pretty while talking to Jack about whatever comes to mind. He might offer to take Tyler & Jack to some nice places for vacation (Patrick would be there too)

Honestly he’s probably the one who plans all of their little hang outs. The narrator only plans them himself like 5% of the time.

•Thinks Tyler is hot and has told Jack but just in a “wow. You’re a lucky guy” way. Like I’ve said a couple times, no one is getting frisky 😯😯😯 with each other unless the other is okay with it.

Kinda thinks deep down tho Tyler is kinda up his own ass. He won’t say anything about that though unless the narrator comes to him upset about something Tyler did.

•He doesn’t really care if Patrick wants to eventually start fighting people. He’s not gonna join in himself for a couple reasons. He might watch though. (And he thinks Patrick does look pretty hot roughed up a bit)

•Narrator is his gal pal. Is it bad to say when I think of them I think of two wifes cooking while their ‘husbands’ are watching sports 💀💀💀 help.

[ambrossart]

Hello, I just wanted to tell you that chapter 20 and 21 are one of my favorites, probably because they are a bit more focused on Victor (who has become my favorite character since those two chapters when he was Patrick at the beginning, although I still love him too) and seeing a bit of Vic's daily life makes you feel more attached to the character and all the little details about Evelyn and Victor childhood give me a kind of nostalgia and sadness, chapter 21 really felt like I was really in victor's room you are great at creating atmospheres and moods and reading vic's thoughts and feelings about his family and how he feels about it was great and made me feel a bit sad 😢 i feel like vic has a very low opinion of himself himself and as he himself is considered a disappointment, and another thing that I loved, these two talking about music and joking, small details like that Víctor uses shampoo, his space pajamas or the guitar his mother bought him, which by the way if Victor I learned to play the guitar I would fall even more in love and totally victor with an eyebrow piercing would really look great if he hadn't gotten infected of course, and the lotion victor had in that drawer I think I have an idea what it could be if he got so nervous 😂; Anyway, all those little facts and more things that I didn't want to comment because I feel like I'm rambling too much make me love these chapters, you don't know how many times I've read chapter 21 (I really plan to draw a picture about chapter 21 and Victor and all those little anecdotes)

YESSSSS!!!

Chapters 20 and 21 are some of my favorites too, and for all the reasons you've said.

These chapters are all about Evelyn learning about the "new Vic" and realizing that, although he's dyed his hair and developed new interests, he's still the same boy she knew as a kid. And I think that finally clicked for her when she discovered his natural roots coming back in. It's a small moment, but it's a really important one. Here Evelyn is, surrounded by change and almost mourning the loss of her childhood friend, and she suddenly sees a glimpse of the "old Vic" hiding beneath the surface. It's extremely comforting for her and it gives her a lot of hope for the future.

These chapters also let us see a side of Vic that he hides from everyone else. He might prefer to be seen as this moody, miserable asshole who hates everyone, but he's clearly using that as a mask. Vic isn't withdrawn because he hates people. He's withdrawn because he genuinely struggles with everyday socialization, and has struggled with this since he was a little kid. High school is an absolute nightmare for Vic. He's constantly surrounded by people. The hallways are loud and chaotic. All the competing sounds trigger his sensory issues. He gets overwhelmed, overstimulated, and he suffers with painful, throbbing headaches (I mean, the poor boy has to shove his head in his locker to get some relief 🥺). But of course he doesn't want people to see him struggle, so he just hides it as best as he can and tries to act normal. It's gotta be exhausting. No wonder the guy needs to smoke a bowl when he gets home from school. 😂

That's why it breaks my heart to see Vic being so unkind to himself. My favorite moment in Chapter 21 is when Evelyn is talking about how she used to daydream about what they would be like when they were older. Vic automatically assumes that Evelyn is disappointed by how he turned out, and that is just SO SAD to me. I think Vic is deeply disappointed by how he turned out. I think he hoped he would grow out of his issues and eventually become "normal," and that by being "normal" he would finally become the kind of person Evelyn would like. I think that's partially why he was so reluctant to return her feelings when they were younger (that and Evelyn came on really, really strong and likely freaked him out). He probably assumed that Evelyn had some superficial crush on him and that one day she would see the real him and not like him anymore.

😭

I love Vic so much. Regardless of how this story ends, you better believe there’s a timeline where he and Evelyn end up together, and it’s the best timeline ever because those two are absolutely adorable. ❤️❤️❤️

[yeahtimesten]

How Your Relationship Started With Patrick, Art, or Tashi

As much as it pains me to say it because I’m such a slow burn girly, I think Patrick moves quick in relationships. I know he gives the impression that he’s a player and doesn’t like to get tied down. And maybe that’s what he thinks he’s doing. But really, I think he develops crushes quickly and dates around because he appreciates the art of connecting with people. And I think when he finds a person worth the trouble, he fixates on them with total earnest. He wants to take you on like three dates a week as soon he realizes he likes you. He’s not only quick to get you in bed, but also to ask you to be official with him. He wants to make it clear asap that you are just for him, and he’s just for you. If you insist on taking it slow, he’ll oblige. If you tell him you only want to be fwb or a casual relationship, fine then. But really, if you give him the opening, he’ll be on the topic of marriage and babies in no time. At first, he’s raising red flags with your friends who think he’s love bombing you. But like, he actually loves you, and he eventually proves it to your friends just how down bad he is for you. He’s the total definition of “talking stage? just move in babe we can talk at home.”

Art on the other hand? He takes his sweet ass time. For one, he loves the dance of courtship. Bringing you flowers, opening doors for you. He was raised to be respectful, to be a gentleman. But, I also think he’s scared of rejection and he’s not quick to pick up on reciprocated feelings. He’ll be so respectful, so patient, that maybe you’ll figure he’s not interested and he’s just a nice guy that wants to be your friend. But my god, he’s pining, he’s yearning. His skin burns *so good* if you brush past him or set your hand on his knee. He’s scared to make a real move. Maybe, he even watches you go through a painful break up with another man and is ready to pick up the pieces when you give him the chance. He wants to scream ‘I’m right here! In front of you. Look at me. Don’t make me say it, I’m so in love with you.’ I picture that it takes him a good year to finally confess his feelings. You’ll laugh, and he’ll get totally taken aback, sad, ashamed. But then you’ll say something like ‘what took you so long?’ A wave of relief will wash over him and only then will he be ready to ACTUALLY start the courting process. And the rest of your relationship will be him treating you like he’s still trying to win your heart.

Tashi? Ha. Yearning is too delicate. Whatever she goes through is much more disgusting. The scene in the movie where Art tells her Patrick doesn’t love her and she gets mad and asks if she ever said she needed him to love her (not verbatim lol), my heart breaks for her. I interpret that as her defense mechanism 100%. I wish I knew why, but I see that as she doesn’t think she deserves love. And that’s how she navigates her love life. “Love is 28 different things……. There’s fear and jealousy and revenge, control…” I think being in love is sort of a foreign feeling for her. And, especially if you’re a girl, it’s confusing for her to navigate. When you meet, you probably think she hates you, she acts totally cold to you. You wonder why she hangs around you so often. But you catch her reading a non-academic book that you finished reading about a week ago. And she asks to study with you after class. And she wants to borrow a couple of CDs she sees in your dorm room. And otherwise she’s extremely nosey about all your possessions. One night, she texts to you come to her dorm as soon as possible, and bring ice cream. And because you love her, despite being so confused on where you stand with her, you stop at the closest convenience store to grab her favorite ben and jerry’s (you did your own research, unbeknownst to her) and rush to her side. She’s distraught and she’s not opening up about it at all. You both eat your ice cream with a side of small talk. Eventually, after you poke and prod and offer her some stories about your life, she opens up, not about her feelings, but about her life as well. Growing up, her love for tennis, her other interests. She tells you she really enjoyed that book you were reading, but doesn’t admit she read it because of you. It gets late and you aren’t ready to go home but she looks sleepy and you offer to let her sleep and quietly she says ‘you can stay’ when you’re already halfway out the door. She doesn’t even think she wanted you to hear. But you did, and you join her on her twin sized bed. And for a beat, your laying squished awkwardly like sardines side by side until you adjust your arm above her head, and that’s all the invite she needs to readjust and rest her head on your chest. And without thinking you run your fingers through her hair. And she’s practically purring, until she’s snoring in your arms. That’s when you realize this was never about her hating you.

[tootiredmotel]

a different lover is not a sin

or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did

Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole

1 - 1994

Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.

"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."

Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.

"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."

Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.

Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.

Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.

---

2 - 2000

Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.

Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.

The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.

For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.

He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.

But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.

Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.

“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.

The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”

He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”

He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.

“What’s bisexual?”

The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.

“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.

The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.

---

3 - 2004

By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.

The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.

But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.

Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.

And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.

Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.

So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.

It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.

Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.

He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.

He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.

That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.

But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.

Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.

Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”

“She was in the what?”

“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.

---

5 - 2014

Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.

“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."

Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."

“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”

Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”

“Pride.”

Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”

And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.

“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.

But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.

John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.

Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.

It still got his heart split in two.

Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?

It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.

Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.

Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?

---

+1 - 2021

Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.

They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.

They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.

He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.

He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.

Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.

He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.

Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas’s now– to pack a small duffle.

Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.

“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”

Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.

“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”

Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.

Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.

They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.

Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”

It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.

“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.

“The parade? No, not really.”

And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."

He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.

And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."

The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.

They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.

He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.

When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.

Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.

---

The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.

They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.

They fit right in.

The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.

The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.

Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?

He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.

On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.

He’s proud to be here.

The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.

“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.

Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.

“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”

She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.

Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.

“What’s up?”

If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”

So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.

And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.

There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.

He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.

He has it now too. He can be himself.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.

Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.

There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.

“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”

Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.

He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.

Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.

So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.

The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.

[vladtoly]

A Broken Family (Part 2)

Requested: Yes ( @j-st-patricks-day ) 

Part 1

A/N: I altered the request a bit to make the narrative fit better, so i do apologize, but i think i did an okay job. Also made it so the marble game happened after the riot, rather than tug of war, so i know the timeline is a bit wonky. But here is the second and final part to A Broken Family. It hurt me to write, so i hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: Language and pain. Lots of pain

The day after your father had the heart to heart with you, the air felt different. It was still dreary, a weight of grief that would never leave still hung; but it was different. Gi-Hun had woken before the others that morning, smiling softly at the sight before him. At the watch area, Sangwoo was resting on a fallen bunk, his breathing slow, and you were clutched tightly to him with one arm. And you lie there comfortably, a relaxed look on your face that Gi-Hun hadn’t seen in years.

He had known you as a very angry child, very stubborn. He knew you would’ve hated to hear it, but you reminded him of Sangwoo in that aspect. You both were not only stubborn, but refused help, you only did the latter in different ways. While Sangwoo simply left to keep his sins hidden, to not burden anyone, Y/N simply refused help. Gi-Hun was at you and your mother’s home at least two times a week for years, and you had always insisted ‘I can handle this on my own’, whether it was true or not. You and your father always had the mentality to not show weakness.

As he watched you two sleep soundly, he was glad to see that had changed, if only for a moment.

Eventually, your eyes fluttered open to the harsh light of the dorms. You noticed the weight on your back and panicked for a moment before looking up to see your father, still in a dream state. Memories of the talk the night before flashed back and you couldn’t help but smile. The conversation was heart breaking, but also eye-opening in the same respect. You now understood why he did what he did. And no, he hadn’t gone about the situation properly, but it helped to hear him say that it was a mistake. What he did wasn’t right, and he knew that.

It was something you’d been struggling with for three years now, and you finally had some sort of closure. Sangwoo hadn’t been there, but he was there now and had apologized. Not just for leaving, but for all of it. The little girl that had been so upset over her father’s absence was now someone that you could leave in your past. Past could now just be past.

“Dad, we have to eat,” you mumbled, nudging him awake. Breakfast was being served already, the approaching next game looming over everyone like a rain cloud that hadn’t yet burst.

The older man’s eyes snapped open as he looked to see who had woken him, ready to defend himself. When he saw it was only you, his shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. The group got their meals and ate silently. No one wanted to think about what was to come.

Entering the next arena, they were all instructed to choose a partner for the next game. Sangwoo stood to partner up with Ali but stopped as he felt a tug on his sleeve.

You stood up beside him, using your grip on him as leverage. “Want to be my partner?”

You refused to make eye contact as you said it, half angry that you couldn’t keep up the Angry Daughter character. Hating that you had turned back into a needy daughter in a matter of hours, just wanting your father’s attention. There must’ve just been some traumas that couldn’t be healed with only a few words and apologies. But you couldn’t help the happiness that filled you as you heard him say, “Of course, let’s wait for instructions.”

Soon enough, everyone was partnered up, apart from Mi-Nyeo, who was yelling at everyone that ignored her. You felt almost bad but kept your back to her as you entered the next game.

Then the game was announced. Along with the instructions. And you could swear that you heard your heart shatter.

A bag of marbles was placed into each of your hands, your shaky ones making the marbles clack together. You turned to your father who only stared at his before nodding to a stoop for both of you to sit. Wordlessly, you followed.

“This isn’t fair,” you heard yourself say. The situation didn’t feel real, you didn’t feel real. This had to be a dream. You had just gotten your dad back and now one of you had to die. You hoped that you hadn’t woken up this morning, it was all a sick nightmare, and you were still asleep in the poorly made fort. You hoped that you were still asleep next to your father, both of you safe.

Sangwoo looked up at you with sad eyes before nodding. He was trying his best to keep it together, at least in front of you. But he was breaking on the inside, every mistake he’d ever made flashing before his eyes. You shouldn’t even be here, he kept thinking. You’re only a kid, you shouldn’t be here.

He hushed your complaints by saying what game you should play; but in his head he already decided that no matter what game it was, he was letting you win. You were going to get out of this cruel game that you shouldn’t have felt forced to join in the first place.

As the game began, you knew something was up immediately. Sangwoo always guessed your hand wrong. Then when he was choosing the marbles for his round, he would show the marbles, almost purposely, for a split second before shutting his hand. When you saw he was down to only a few marbles, you finally snapped.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to lose?”

When you saw his eyes fall, you felt your breathing stop. He was. He was trying to lose the whole time. You couldn’t believe it.

“Just keep playing, it’s okay. It’ll be over soon,” he finally said. He looked up and gave you a melancholy smile. Sangwoo didn’t like the situation any more than you, but he felt like he was doing the right thing. After so many years of fucking up as a dad, he was finally doing the right thing.

“No, we’re playing fair!” You started to go through your marbles, shakily trying to pick out his. This wasn’t happening, none of this was happening.

A larger hand reached out and grabbed both of yours, halting your actions. It squeezed your palms and you looked up to see Sangwoo, tears streaming down his face. But he still held that same smile from before. “It’s okay, angel. You have so much life ahead of you, and I’m not going to take that away. I’ve spent so much of my life only looking out for myself, even when I had you. So, just let me look out for you, this one last time. Please.”

You didn’t respond and he let his hand retreat to his lap. He once again pulled his marbles for the round, obviously displaying the number he held. Tears blurred you vision as you watched his fingers close around them.

“Odd,” you said.

“Y/N, please,” he almost pleaded. They were his last marbles. And he knew that you saw how many they were.

You let out a labored breath before lunging forward and hugging him, crying into his neck. Sangwoo’s arms wrapped around your middle, keeping you in a bone crushing hold. He put every emotion he could into that hug, trying his best to make you feel safe before he was gone for good.

“Please, don’t go, please, Dad,” you whimpered, his jacket staining with your tears.

“It’s okay, dear.” He pulled out of the embrace to make you look him in the eyes. “Let Gi-Hun take care of you the rest of the game. He’s been a better father to you than I could’ve ever been.”

You went to protest, but he continued, knowing the game’s time was almost up. “And promise that when you win, when you’re out, you’ll take care of your mother for me? Tell her I loved her and that I’m sorry.”

Letting out gross sobs, you nodded. Your father brushed your hair behind your ear before saying, “I know I never said it enough, but I love you. You were the best part of my life. No matter how I acted, no matter how distant I was, I always loved you.”

You sat in front of him, hand still gripping his jacket sleeve for dear life. “I love you too, Dad.”

Silently, he pushed his last marbles into your hand. Then he kissed your forehead and stood up, making his way to the guards. You didn’t dare turn around, only the sound of a gun shot telling you what you already knew.

Your dad was gone. He had sacrificed himself for you. And you knew he was gone.

[yuzukult]

i’m bad too 15 || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, word count: 1.8k warnings: none !! a/n: a “leading” chapter, before something actually happens! so, not the most exciting, but... yeah. :D

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin​​​​ @crescent-iak​​​​ @ncttboo​​​​ @byunbaekby​​​​​ @jinfizz​​ @doyoungyoung​​ @ahgayeah0305​​ @doyobun​​ @sexualitaeyong​ @mrkleelvr​​ @m1ss-foodi3​​

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If it’s one thing you’ve learned about yourself, it’s that you hate when Ten chews his food with his mouth open. He chomps it like a cow munching on grass, and sometimes, he even makes those weird wet sounds if the food is soft and squishy enough.

But after laying in a hospital bed for a week, unable to speak, you’re missing the ability to call your big brother ‘disgusting’ across the table, toss something in his direction, and him opening his mouth to show the contents of his dinner inside.

“Are you fucking insane? You let her go into hellfire, knowing damn well she wasn’t protected?” The voice is familiar, loud, and straining, like they’re on the verge of tears but too instilled with anger to let the sadness seep through. “I thought I said to keep her fucking safe if you wanted to work together.”

“I don’t work in the field, Ten. I don’t control what happens at the moment.”

“Yeah, but you set the commands. You give the orders. She’s fucking on her deathbed, Taeyong—“

“Don’t fucking say my name in public,” he hisses through his gritted teeth. “Listen. If it’s not her, it’s me.”

“I’d rather it be you.”

“You need me, Ten. Who is gonna do the dirty work for you? Look at those pretty fingers. You wouldn’t hurt a soul. But your sister—you know damn well she’s got potential to be more. This is just a hurl she’s jumping over. When she recovers—“

“You’ve got to be fucking insane, you think I’m gonna let her go back out there when you put her in harms way?”

Before the conversation could continue, you hear the door click shut, and the shuffling of flat shoes tapping against the cold tiles, reaching to your bedside. You can’t see, your body won’t let you fully awaken, and you can’t speak with this tube lodged in your throat. But the whiff of the cologne that comes hits your nostrils is a familiar one. It’s Doyoung.

He sighs, like he’s been troubled and you can’t even blame him. You told him not to worry, that you’d stay safe, and here you are—unable to move, unable to wake up, unable to breathe on your own, and unable to talk.

You hear his moments; the scuffing of his oversized denim jacket against the leather seat by your bed, browsing through the drawers with each push and slam until he finds what he’s looking for, and when you hear the television turn on, you could only assume it was for the remote.

“I wonder if they have Marvel movies playing,” he says, seemingly to no one in particular until you realize he’s speaking to you, in spite of the fact that you’re very much in a deep sleep. “I know they’re not your favorite, but you tolerate it. I never got to ask what kind of movies you liked. I… I guess I was being a little selfish when you gave me attention that I never considered to ask.”

You wanna tell him that you actually don’t even like movies, in fact, you prefer sitcoms in spite of your very evident opposite personality. If you could, you would tell him that you watch those superhero movies because he’s into them, that if you get to see that pretty little smile on his face, it makes you forget all your problems and… the moment is worthwhile.

Warmth reaches your fingers, and you could only assume that it’s Doyoung holding your hand. It’s a familiar feeling of home, like you’re meant to be here with him, except the current setting isn’t necessarily favored.

“Do you like Spongebob?” He asks, as if you could even respond. “Mm. Doesn’t really seem like your thing, but I feel like you’re the type to not look like you enjoy it, but you actually love it because it’s annoying.”

He’s… right. You want to laugh, genuinely laugh because Kim Doyoung is spot on with his prediction. He knows you better than he gives himself credit for, because he doesn’t change the channel and watches the TV with you.

“I bet you like sitcoms,” Doyoung mentions randomly, eyes still on the screen. “Like maybe not Modern Family, but maybe like… Parks and Rec. You don’t seem like you’d enjoy the Office too much, maybe Michael Scott is too much of a character but Andy Bernard looks like a guy you’d scare to the point he’d piss his pants, but you’d like him.” Again, you think to yourself. Because Doyoung got it right yet again.

He’s quiet for a bit, letting Spongebob play in the background and you could hear the conversation between Spongebob and Patrick. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s actually happening, but the feeling of being with Doyoung like this, hand in hand with something stupid playing on TV is your favorite.

It’s casual. No missions, no guns, no family business—just you and Doyoung.

Doyoung doesn’t say much on the day you finally wake up. With a tube wedged down your throat, it’s difficult to have a two-way conversation anyways, and seeing you like this probably breaks his heart, so any word that leaves his mouth might be with a stutter and a sob.

Spongebob plays on the television for another hour before Doyoung eventually breaks the glass of quietude, letting out a soft chuckle at something Patrick said. “Sorry,” he apologizes quickly, glancing over at you. “Wasn’t sure if you liked Spongebob.” Although you can’t speak, the soft squeeze of his hand gives away your approval, and a gentle smile tugs on his face.

There's another moment of silence, just before Doyoung lowers the volume of the TV before gathering enough courage to talk. It takes a lot to get himself to speak up against you, someone he sort of feared yet at the same time had strong feelings for.

“I know what you do,” he announces, eyes never leaving the flickering screen with cartoon characters under the deep blue sea do stupid things, unmatching to what he wants to say next. “I can’t say that I totally get it, because I don’t. I’d be lying if I said I did, but… you do those things, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what to make out of it, but I get why it was hard to confess… those things.” He runs his fingers through his greasy locks, accumulating in oils from how long he’s stayed here without going home to shower. “I kind of thought I was going to date someone really simple one day, yaknow? Settle down with a girl who has a job, sweet and kind, with the same end goal in mind. Get married, have kids… all that fun stuff.”

Your nose twitches at that. Because you’re definitely not that.

“But then I met you, which is… well,” he lets out a faint laugh, “... the complete opposite of all of that. You’re dangerous, cold, and oftentimes, I’m left hanging by a thread, confused on what we are and what I actually mean to you.”

If you could, you’d interrupt him right then and there. Tell him your sorrys, belatedly confessing your true feelings for him, let him know you’d be better for real this time, but truthfully, you’re not sure if he’ll believe you anyway.

“And I could just drop everything right now. Just get up, leave, move on. Tell you that I don’t want this anymore, that whatever you’re in, I don’t wanna be roped in and get involved in your baggage.” It’s like you could hear the cracking of your heart as it falls into the depths of your stomach because your chest feels empty when he says that. The worst part is when you can’t defend yourself, tell him that it’s not like that, but in the end, Doyoung does it for you.

“Yet, I’m still here, right? Because I don’t get you, I don’t get whatever it is you got yourself caught up in, but… after knowing, it oddly makes me… trust you more. So, I’ll stay.”

“Fuck,” Ten curses underneath his breath, getting slightly frustrated with the wheelchair being caught on the steps of your home again. “Fucking shit, nothing here is disability accessible.”

It’s still hard to talk, but a weak laugh escapes from your lips.

“Don’t laugh, you’re the one in the wheelchair not doing shit.”

When he gets you through the front door, and into the hallway, you can’t help but stare at Ten curiously. He furrows his brows at this, hands at his hips with a gesture of his chin. “What’s in your head?”

“Uh,” it’s straining to speak, but if not now, it’s never. “I overheard a conversation when I was asleep. I-I don’t know if it was a dream or… I don’t know. But I heard you talking to someone, uh, someone particularly… with a reputation.”

His body goes rigid.

“Right,” you state, feeling more confident that the discussion was definitely not a dream. “So this entire time, you’ve been working with the organization?” Ten only sucks his cheeks, unable to formulate a proper rebuttal, so you take advantage of this. “This whole time, you let them constantly probe and ask me to be part of them—”

“I told him not to—”

“Well, he’s been asking, Ten, and he hasn’t stopped. I got contracted to be part of them temporarily, not permanently. This was supposed to be a one and done deal, you realize that, right?”

He scoffs. “You think that anything you do with Lee Taeyong could just be easily brushed under the rug? Hell no, you have to be insanely rich to pay off that guy. He thinks you’re talented, you know? What do you think this is?”

“I could just get up and leave—” “In your fucking dreams, kid,” Ten lets out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head. “I agreed to work with him before I knew that you were already contracted with him. There’s shady people in the business. There’s so many messed-up dudes who would bend the laws to get what they want. I don’t want that, but I have to protect myself.”

“But—”

“Wanna hear something, kid? Taeyong doesn’t think this accident,” Ten gestures to your wounds, heart tightening at the sight of you in pain. “... this accident, is just… it. He calls this an obstacle. He thinks this is just a bump in your progress, something you need to overcome before you hop back into the field and start training all over again. He’s not gonna let this go, doesn’t matter if I’m his client. Fuck, kid, he has a shit ton of clients.”

Uneasily, you grip onto the wheels of your seat. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“It’s your loss, kid. Either kill Taeyong and take his seat or you gotta work for him.”

[penaltbox]

the good, the bad, & the parties - patrick moynihan

word count: ~2.6

let me know if you like it :) based off the completely different vibes of the two photos above.

__

Pat

—

You lock eyes with him the moment the door opens as he and a couple more guys spill into the dorm you shared with your roommate Emma. You smile immediately and give him a little wave, giddy about getting one in return. 

You’d met Pat a few weeks earlier when Emma started talking to one of his teammates in her chemistry class. The irony was not lost on you, but you were thankful he came with some cute friends. Pat had won your heart quickly and you looked forward to getting to see him on days when they weren't tied up with hockey obligations. 

He happily sits on your bed, which was open, as you sit on Emma’s. He smiles over at you again and you feel the butterflies immediately. You maybe had a small crush on him but you weren’t ready to admit it just yet. Your friends all told you to be careful with hockey boys. They could break your heart in no time. 

“Hey you,” he says, a little laugh following his start, “haven’t seen you in a while. You avoiding me?”

“No,” you blush, shaking your head. You try and bite back the smile that quickly makes its way to your lips but it’s no use. You were a sucker. 

He smiles at you for an extra second, only making your cheeks feel warmer. It was ridiculous how easily he had an effect on you. The conversation shifts as Craig starts to make a bet about how the next game will go. Everyone starts to wager their bets and you unlock your phone, lifting it up and taking a picture of the chaos that was unfolding amongst everyone. No one needed to know that you’d angled it just right to get Pat as the focus of it. Or at least you thought no one would. 

Your smile slips as the flash goes off on your camera. You freeze, eyes widening as you look over at Pat. He had noticed right away and the grin he has on let’s you know you’re in for it. 

“You have to let me see that,” he says, sliding forward on the bed as he tries to grab your phone. 

You pull it back against your chest, “no, I’ll delete it.”

“You don’t have to delete it. Just let me see it!” 

“Pat, it’s nothing! I swear!” You giggle and suddenly he’s leaving his spot and catching your wrist in his grip. 

Instead of pulling you towards him, he sits next to you. He’s invading your space then, pulling your legs over his as he tries to pout and gently tug on your wrist. 

“I just want to look. It’s probably a good one,” he reasons with you, his closeness and fake pout making you give in quickly. 

You sigh and turn the phone screen out towards him, “okay, here.”

He keeps his gentle hold on your wrist and leans in until his head is laying on your shoulder. He lifts his other hand and zooms in on the picture a couple times. Finally he seems satisfied and sits up, looking at you with a soft smile. 

“I love it. Send it to me.”

You blush, but nod, getting his number then and a few looks from the rest of the room over how flirty the two of you suddenly were. Maybe Pat was a good guy. Maybe you could get him after all. 

Patrick

— 

A ‘pain in the ass’ would’ve been generous. ‘Your worst nightmare’ may have been more accurate. You should have known better than to catch feelings for him. He was just a dumb hockey player after all and the flirting really never stopped from those boys. Apparently neither did the trail of heartbroken girls they left behind. You would have happily abstained from that group if you knew this was how it would feel. 

He seemed to be entertaining girl after girl that night, letting them sit on his lap for pictures and everything, all the while still glancing over at you after each one left. Eventually you get sick of it and turn to Emma, begging her to go to the basement for a bit. It was cooler, quieter, and the boys down there just wanted to show off by shooting pucks at the net they had set up. 

The buzz you had going wasn’t enough to shut your emotions off and every smug smirk Patrick threw your way when he caught you watching him flirt with someone was like a tiny stab to the heart. You throw back the rest of your drink as that look replays in your mind, a sharp ping of a puck hitting the crossbar and getting your attention. You look over at Max, who had been shooting, and notice that Patrick had made his way downstairs as well. 

He’s already looking your way but he’s lost his shirt somewhere between upstairs and there. You have to actively keep your attention on his face otherwise you know your gaze will wander. He can tell you’re fighting it and he lets a full blown smile onto his face. Cocky bastard. 

He must really be on another level that night because he steps in front of Tyce, taking a hockey stick from the row of them and bumping Max from the shooting pad. He stick handles a little before looking over at you with the look that seemed permanent that night. You immediately cross your arms over your chest, wishing he would just do his thing and go away. 

He rips a shot then and it hits the center of the crossbar almost too perfectly. The boys, drunk and unaware of the tension floating between you two, cheer their teammate on and give him even more to gloat about. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you though and you scoff, flipping him off as retaliation. 

He smirks when you do that, his ego even more inflated, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

You roll your eyes, even though you definitely wish he would stop flirting and start making moves, but you answer with as quick of wit as you can. 

“Keep dreaming, Patrick” you throw at him, beginning to walk away. 

‘Patrick’

You’d never called him that and his ego dents a little. His smirk drops into a frown as you put your foot on the first stair. He doesn’t realize how much his attitude was hurting you. He’d never treated you like this. He’d never been anything but sweet to you. You had no clue who this was and you wanted nothing more than to run before he saw you cry as the events of the night started to weigh on your chest. 

“Wait,” he says, dropping the stick and walking over quickly. He puts a hand on the railing and leans closer to you, making you suck in a quick breath. 

You stand your ground and make eye contact despite the lump in your throat, “no.”

His mouth opens like he’s about to respond but you take the opportunity away from him. You quickly turn your back and start up the stairs, pulling your wrist from his grip as he grabs it. You had to go right then or you knew you wouldn’t hold strong. 

He doesn’t follow you and he doesn’t text you that night, unlike he had after every other party since getting your number. He usually liked to make sure you got home safe but apparently something had changed. Maybe he was bad for you. Maybe you wouldn’t be getting him all to yourself after all. 

Parties

—

Your stomach nervously churns and you find yourself with your back to the wall no matter what room you find yourself in. You wanted to be prepared when he came through the door, and you knew damn well that he would. It was the hockey house. He had more jurisdiction there than you but you were still on guard. 

It’s like clockwork how quickly he can find you in a crowd and it hurts your heart so much you almost tear up right then and there. You hated how much he could affect you with just a look. You bite your lip and look away as fast as you can but you know he’ll make his way over. 

He doesn’t stop in the kitchen for a drink, he doesn’t stop to say hi to any of his teammates or friends. He finds himself moving through the crowd and making his way directly to you. 

“Are you done with your attitude towards me?”

“Patrick, just stop,” you mumble, sighing and crossing your arms in front of you. 

“You stop,” he whines, his eyebrows furrowing, “you never call me Patrick.”

You roll your eyes, “I do when I’m mad at you. I wouldn’t have an attitude if you hadn’t acted the way you did last time I saw you.”

“Great, didn’t know I brought my mom to college with me.”

“Okay, just fuck off then,” you scoff, but he’s immediately backpedaling. 

He winces and holds his hands up, “no, wait. I’m sorry. That was really stupid of me to say. Sometimes I just talk and don’t think which isn’t good. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” you mumble, still refusing to look at him. 

“Will you please just talk to me? I know I was an ass last time and I was way too drunk. I just need like five minutes with you.”

You shrug and motion to the room, “you're here now. Get talking.”

He gives you a tight smile that shows his frustration and you feel a little ping of proudness over making him even slightly upset after how awful you’d been feeling because of him. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he shakes his head, looking over his shoulder and back at you, “will you come to the basement and talk to me?”

You look at him then, remembering how close you’d been to caving in on the stairs and letting him apologize. He had your head and heart arguing with each other like there was no tomorrow and you hated to be vulnerable again with him. You’d been nice and opened up once but it backfired. You didn’t want to look like a fool this time around. 

He must see the wheels turning in your head because he gives it one last shot, “please, five minutes. If you’re still mad then you never have to talk to me again.”

You sigh, nodding a little. Five minutes couldn’t hurt. Or it could, a whole hell of a lot, and you’d have an excuse to go back to your room and avoid him from then on. 

He quickly grabs your hand before you can even react and heads for the stairs. He gets to the bottom step and looks around, only seeing a few other people and clears his throat. He asks them all to go upstairs for a bit and close the door on their way. They give him a funny look and you take the time to tear your hand from his. You didn’t need anyone talking. You walk away from him, needing some space to try and keep your head clear. He notices and his shoulders drop. 

“I don’t know what I did that night but I can tell I fucked up,” he sighs, looking you up and down as he takes your body posture in. 

You’re as closed off as you can be while standing in the middle of the room, but his words catch your attention, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I blacked out before you even got there,” he admits, “I’m not proud of it and it’s never happening again.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh and shake your head, “of course you were. That’s really convenient. I guess it’s good to know what an asshole you are when you get hammered.”

His forehead creases as he frowns and starts to walk towards you, “I’m so sorry. I don’t ever want you to be mad at me and whatever I did must have been really awful.”

“You kept flirting with other girls and then making sure I saw it. You’d take pictures with them and immediately look at me after. You came down here to show off and all you cared about was making sure you made me look stupid in front of your friends and mine,” you explain, your anger from the night heightening all over again. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, knowing he’d screwed up, “I can explain it. I may not remember it but I can absolutely explain why I acted that way.”

“That would be nice to know because you made me feel like an idiot,” you mumble, picking at your fingernail. 

“I’m really sorry and I mean it when I say that. I never want to hurt you and I especially don’t want to embarrass you. But uh, I guess I must have been acting out to get attention. Parker was talking about hooking you up with one of his friends earlier that day and I hated the thought of that,” his tone is even suddenly and he’s keeping eye contact that has your whole body on fire. 

“Why?” You squeak out, hardly trusting your voice. You hadn’t expected this to go anywhere near the way it was going and you were struggling to keep your cool. 

Pat smiles then and gently grabs your hand, “because I’m an idiot. Well, and because I kinda like you so I didn’t want someone else to have a chance with you before I took one.”

You bite your lip as you try to keep a smile from taking over your face, but the blush that dusts your cheeks immediately speaks loud enough. You have to look away from him in order to collect yourself and he takes the opportunity to pull you against him. You wrap your arms right around his waist and bury your face into his shirt. 

“Why do you seem more embarrassed than me? I’m the one who just admitted they had feelings here,” he jokes, but you can hear the strain in his voice. 

You look up at him, shocked at how close you’d both gotten to each other, “do I have to say it too or does your confession suffice for us both?”

“No, you have to say it. I did so you do, too.”

You shake your head but you expect nothing else from him, “I like you, Pat.”

His face lights up with a smile then that puts your nerves to rest, “that’s so much better than being called Patrick. That’s the one thing I remember from that night was hearing you call me that and I never want to hear it again. I knew I was in trouble.”

“You sure are trouble,” you smirk, trying to push away from him. 

He keeps you tight against his chest though and a bit of his goofiness dissolves, “hey, hold on. Do I get a chance first or do I have to watch you get set up with someone?”

“If you want the chance then take it,” you say, surprising yourself even with the boldness. 

Pat can’t help but smile then, and does exactly that. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, holding you tight around the waist. You can feel your lips still tingling as he pulls back and you’re met with that you’d grown to love so much. You lean in and steal one more kiss before the door to the basement opens and a group of people come down. 

You step away from each other and Tyce gives Pat a look that you definitely don’t miss. Pat nods proudly and reaches for your hand then. You take it and step into his side, leaning against him. Maybe he wasn’t always bad. Maybe you’d stick around and see what else the parties and Pat had to offer you. 

[karlajoyner]

Can you do a smut piece with Owen where he takes you to Hawaii and you guys meet up with the cast and everything, but then later that night he takes you back to the bedroom to show you some real fun. Ik you get this for a while, can’t wait for your other work love your writing style.

So Needy (Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys I hope you like this one! I'm sorry I haven't posted in over a week I had a lot of shit to do but I have a few imagines done and I'm working on the rest of my requests so I could hopefully open them up again soon. Also Alex and Reggie now have last names and I’m 1000% freaking the fuck out because it was the last thing I was expecting . I’m gonna go back eventually and put them in all my imagines. And yeah....totally didn’t make me go back and watch the show for the 12th time. It’s a problem....it’s fine. Anyways Enjoy! (Sorry for any typos I always fuck up but I’ll go back and fix them later)

Requested by: @jjbassett (Tumblr)

Warnings: Smut! (18+)

————

I walked into the airport tiredly. Thankful it was at least somewhat empty.

"Owen why'd you book our flights so damn early?" I asked my boyfriend who was walking to my left.

"I didn't book them. Charlie did" He stated my gaze moving to the boy on my right.

"I should have known. No one but a psychopath would book a flight at the ass crack of dawn" I spoke earning a laugh from both boys.

"To be fair I thought you were a morning person y/n/n"

"Oh I am. When it's 8:00 o'clock and past that. I do not enjoy having to wake up at 4:00 o'clock in the morning to get ready. I mean seriously Charles it's still fucking dark out" I pointed out.

"Oh man. Alright I'll take that into consideration"

"Be lucky you didn't have to deal with her when the first alarm rang" Owen said making me glare at him.

"I love you baby. You know that but you just get so grumpy" He spoke making me roll my eyes.

"Did you just compare me to one of the seven dwarves? Fine. Alright. I get a little grumpy. But that's only because I have to be the big spoon too"

"Oh my god man your the little spoon" Charlie laughed as we arrived to security.

"You swore you wouldn't tell anybody" Owen whisper shouted.

"Yeah well that's just me being grumpy. Sorry babe"

"No it's cool. It's cool. Just wait until tonight" He whispered the last part in my ear before letting me go ahead.

"Seriously Charlie a knife? You tried to bring a knife on a plane?!" I asked exasperatedly as we boarded the plane.

"I didn't know they wouldn't let me bring it"

"I think it's a given that they wouldn't let you bring it dude"

"Yeah yeah"

"Well paybacks a bitch huh Charlie?" I joked handing Owen my carry on so he could put it above our seats.

"Haha y/n. I'd like you to remember that your stuck on this flight with me for the next few hours so I'd be a little nicer"

"I just can't wait to tell Jer about this" I said taking my seat next to the window. Owen taking the one to my right.

"Owennn your girlfriends being mean" Charlie complained earning a laugh from the blonde.

"I'm sorry Charlie but I can't do anything. The more she's mean to you the less she's mean to me" Owen said making me giggle.

"He's not wrong" I grinned intertwining our fingers and placing a quick kiss to Owen's cheek.

"That's all I get" He questioned making me playfully roll my eyes before pulling him in for a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Better?" I asked pulling away.

"Much" He smiled widely.

"You guys better not do that the whole plane ride"

"We won't. Gotta save something for tonight man" Owen joked. My elbow instinctively shoving itself into his arm as Charlie began to laugh.

"Ouch"

"Funny how you think your getting some tonight" I muttered.

"Am I not?"

"We'll see" I responded putting in my AirPods as the two boys began to conversate.

"Do you see your bag?" I questioned my boyfriend. We'd been stuck at baggage claim for ages trying to find Owens green suitcase.

"Nope"

"Owen" I groaned.

"There! There it is!" He shouted excitedly.

"Oh yes!" Charlie cheered as the bag reached our area.

"Let's get out of here"

"And just like that I hate airports" I said as we walked past random strangers.

"Y/n!" I heard a familiar voice shout. My eyes quickly spotting the source.

"Tori!" I screamed letting go of my boyfriends hand and running towards the girl who had her arms wide open.

I giggled engulfing her into a tight hug before turning to the rest of the group behind her.

"Kenny!" Owen and Charlie greeted their director.

"It's good to see you guys too" Jeremy spoke up.

"Care!"

"Y/n I'm so glad your here"

"I'm glad to be here. It's always good to see you too Jer" I spoke hugging him after I hugged Carolynn.

"Finally someone who appreciates me" He said making me throw my head back in laughter.

"To the hotel!"

"So what took you guys so long?" Jeremy asked as the 7 of us lounged around the pool.

"Yeah we were at terminal like 40 minutes after your flight landed.

"It's a long story"

"Speaking of stories" I smirked looking at Charlie.

"Don't" He warned pointing a finger at me.

"I didn't say anything" I giggled, back stroking away from the group.

"So me and Care we're thinking of doing some shopping tomorrow you in?" Tori questioned swimming with me.

"One hundred percent" I said glancing at Owen who was laid back on one of the lounge chairs near the pools edge. He looked so good with his swim trunks and his damp hair.

"So then we decided we'd just save it for Saturday before Care left" Toris voice brought me back to reality.

"I'm sorry what?" I asked.

"Did you hear anything I said?"

"I did not" I muttered.

"And why is that?" She asked teasingly poking my side.

"Because my boyfriend is sitting a few feet away and he looks like that" I internally groaned.

"I say you go get him" She grinned at me.

"Not yet" I mischievously smiled swimming back towards the group.

"It's so cold" I stated getting out the pool and grabbing my beach towel. Wrapping it around me.

"Aww come here" Owen said opening his arms widely.

I simpered making my way over to him and laying down in his embrace.

His arms immediately wrapping themselves around my soaked body. His bare chest coming into contact with my partially covered one.

"You guys are too cute" Tori teased.

"Not cuter than us though right?" Carolynn joked hugging Tori.

"No. Never" She responded making us all laugh.

"I'd like to propose a toast" Kenny spoke holding up his drink.

"To friends"

"To family" Charlie followed.

"To love" Owen said making heart skip a beat as he lifted his drink in the air.

"Cheers" They spoke in unison lifting their drinks to their lips. Owens beautiful green eyes never leaving mine.

"I love you"

"I love you too Owen" I whispered placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Why don't we head back to the hotel for some real fun?" He suggested quietly making sure no one heard.

His hand running up and down my arm soothingly.

"Hmm is that your attempt to get me into bed?"

"Why? Is it working?" He asked making me smirk.

"So we're doing dinner tomorrow night right guys?" I asked sitting up straddling the boy beneath me. Rejoining the conversation our friends were having.

"Yeah. Kenny was telling us about this great place his friend recommended" Jeremy explained as I shifted a bit to get comfortable.

A pair of hands landing on hips.

"Oh really? Tell me more about his place Kenny" I said moving again hearing a small groan escape Owens lips as our thin clothed fronts rubbed against each others.

A wicked smirk forming on my face as we listened in on Kennys description of the place.

"It sounds fantastic. Doesn't it sound fantastic Owen?" I questioned my boyfriend shuffling again.

"Yeah. Yup sounds great. Listen it getting late guys. I think we're gonna head back to the hotel" He voiced sitting up as well.

"It's only 6:30 dude"

"Yeah but we just wanna have time to shower and get dinner. You know together. As a couple"

"Right.....well have fun you two" Kenny said awkwardly as I stood up along with Owen.

"Oh I'm pretty sure they will" Charlie joked causing me to snicker at the boy.

I quickly collected the remaining of my pool things saying my fair well goodbyes to our friends. Or tried.

Owen was clearly in a rush to get to the hotel.

"Don't leave me" Tori said hugging me one more time before we left.

"Sorry to break it to you but she's gotta go" Owen said removing the girls arms from my body and pulling me away.

"Bye!!" I waved to the group who were all cackling at Owens behavior.

"You didn't have to be so pushy" I muttered as we walked into the hotel lobby.

"Pushy? Please you knew what you were doing" He whisper yelled dragging me along the hallways towards the elevator.

"And what was I doing?" I asked stepping in immediately feeling my back pressed against the cold wall.

"You tell me" He whispered inching his face towards mine. I watched as he pushed the button to our floor before looking back at me.

I took initiative crashing our lips together. Feeling his hand land firmly on my waist as the elevator came to a halt signifying we were on our floor.

"Come on" I spoke rather harshly dragging him towards our room.

"Who's being pushy now?"

"Owen I swear to god if you say another word I will lock you outside and make myself cum got it?"

"Yes mam" He said taking my bag while I unlocked the door with my key card.

Immediately upon opening the door I felt the back of my bikini come undone the top falling to the ground.

Turning around I saw the childlike smirk on my boyfriends face as he shut the door behind us. Making sure to lock it.

I smirked back with the same look on my face. Biting my lip in anticipation as Owen moved forward wrapping his arms around my body.

"Your so-" I didn't let him finish as I crashed my lips onto his wanting to feel him closer.

He was quick to respond deepening the kiss as he back me up onto the queen sized bed in the middle of the suite.

"I can't even get a word out geez" He joked pulling away.

"I'm sorry baby what were you gonna say?" I teased as his body hovered over mine. My body prepped up on my elbows to get a better view of his face.

"I was gonna say your so needy"

"I'm the needy one? Really?"

"Well it's obviously not me"

"Care to test that theory?" I suggested watching his face scrunch up in confusion.

I pecked his lips one more time before using all my strength to flip us over so he was on his back. I moved my body over his so I was straddling him now. A grin appearing on my face.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good right now. I just need you to do what I say. Got it?" I whispered watching him nod his head rapidly, clearly intrigued at my proposal.

I leaned down kissing him passionately his hands finding my waist with ease. Slowly grinding down onto him earning a moan from the blonde. I bit his lip as we roughly fought for dominance.

Owen letting me win as soon as I began to palm him through his swim trunks.  I pulled away moving down slowly until I was in front of him on my knees.

"Oh fuck baby. You look so fucking beautiful" He bit his lip taking a hold of my hair.

"No. You can't touch me. That's the only rule" I stated pushing his hand away.

"I can't? Why not?"

"Because I said so. Now are you gonna let me handle your little problem here or not?" I teased him, rubbing my hand against the fabric of his shorts.

"Fuck okay baby. Just- just do something" He pleaded. I smirked knowing I had it in the bag now.

"Take them off" I demanded. Sitting back as he removed his shorts along with his boxers letting his dick spring free.

I took the shaft pumping it a few times. Teasing the tip, even swirling my tongue around it earning a loud groan from Owen himself.

I slowly started pumping his length before placing my mouth on it. Beginning to bob my head up and down, feeling Owen thrust his body upward in attempt to get more of himself inside my mouth. His fist balling up and clenching the bedsheets tightly.

I hummed in response as moans escaped the boys mouth while I sucked him off. Eyeing him closely through my eyelashes seeing his head tilted back and his eyes were screwed shut made me even more excited for what was coming.

"I'm so close y/n" As soon as he said that I pulled away from him with a pop watching as his eyes shot open.

"W-what the hell?" He asked clearly confused.

"I'm just tired. Think it's time for bed no?" I questioned going to pick up my bikini top.

"No- No what the fuck babe" He spoke from behind me.

"Well I just th-" My words were cut off by a yelp as I was tossed back onto the bed.

"We're not done here" He spoke lunging on top of me quickly pressing his lips onto mine.

I sighed contently wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer as we made out.

"Who's the needy one now?" I whispered pulling away earning a scowl from him as he undid the strings of my bikini bottoms.

I shivered as I felt his tip align itself at my entrance. He didn't hesitate to push himself into me immediately filling me up. Something he'd never failed to do before.

I moaned as he began to move at a rather hasty pace. Not that I was complaining.

I pulled him back down making our lips meet once more while the noise of our bodies colliding echoed through the room.

"Faster" I mumbled into his mouth.

A familiar feeling pulling at the pit of my stomach. My orgasm becoming very close as Owen picked up speed. My legs wrapped around him as we struggled to stay in place.

"Owen" I moaned out as I came all over him. His orgasm hitting seconds later.

"Shit" He panted as he pulled out of me. Our liquids spilling out onto the comforter.

"Your calling for new sheets" I stated trying to regain my breath.

"That was so worth it baby" He spoke pecking my lips before getting off of me to go to the bathroom.

I smiled as he walked out with a towel, coming over to clean me up.

"I love Hawaii" He said making me giggle.

"Do you now? I wonder why?" I joked sitting up. Coming face to face with my boyfriend.

"But I love you more"

"Say more things like that and we'll be in bed the whole week" I spoke wrapping my arms around his neck. Giggling as he pushed me back onto the bed once more.

————

Up Next: Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Alex Mercer x Male Reader

Luke Patterson x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Jeremy Shada x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Reggie Peters x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Carrie Wilson x Reader

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@lolychu @headheartbellarke @bookish0918 @kcd15 @ifilwtmfc @moviesbooksandfandoms @lovesanimals @lavender-writer @kaitieskidmore1 @morganayennefertyrell @iloveteenwolf @ghostofmgg @jammi13 @theravenclawlife