#my apartment is in A State after we shoved all the shit from my dad's place in here.

[orcelito]

Since I've got some life insurance money now, I keep ordering packages. Birthday gifts, household necessities/utility things that I've wanted but haven't bought b4 now for whatever reason (an electric kettle, a portable speaker, more outlet strips, wood cleaner, some cubbies for one of my new cabinets, etc), and Also a few frivolous nice things for myself (like the figurine, and the dice, and some comic books)

I'm expecting it to slow down after I've gotten things more settled, but I rly wonder what the post ppl think of me rn. Like "this bitch again?" I'm sorry post people I am simply trying to sort out my life rn. I promise I will be less annoying in time.

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Yeah so I was in my hometown for two weeks and one night my sister and I took her shitty car and we drove around to all the places I used to run around at and we looked at the stars and I was hit with so many deep memories of being queer in a tiny town and please take this as my weekend sacrifice 💙

Piarles, of course

Charles shifts around in the seat as his truck idles on the curb.

It doesn’t matter that the athletic board sprung for the higher quality leather after they won state this year, the letterman jacket is still new and stiff.

He texts Alex again.

here

Alex is late. He's always late, but Charles gets it so he lets it fly. He thinks the two of them maybe wouldn't be real friends if they weren't the kids marked by tragedy.

George and Alex were always closer, but something happened with them last year after...well, after and now they hardly talk and Charles gets it because if Pierre hadn't been a stubborn bastard, Charles would have probably pushed him away after his dad died, but also...

Well, his relationship with Pierre is different and he's thinking about texting him now, telling him that he's going to try and dip out early, but then the door of Alex's apartment bangs open and he strides out, pulling his own letterman jacket around his shoulders and so Charles drops his phone in the cupholder and puts his truck in park.

.

They're the last people to show up - which is expected. Everyone else probably came together.

Lando is sitting with some girl that Charles thinks looks vaguely familiar and George is sitting on the toolbox of his truck and Max is standing in the middle of the half-circle, waving his arms around telling some story and Charles backs in, revving his engine like he's going to run him down and Max smacks his tailgate, calling him a motherfucker.

It's a typical Friday night.

Nothing changes.

Not even Caddo driving by in his cop car, shining the light on them and calling out from his driver's seat ain't drinkin, are ya boys?

Lando is absolutely drinking and Charles knows Max is too, but he also knows that Caddo won't do anything about it and that they'll all leave well before curfew.

Max will invite them all back to his dad's place off off 1255 where the alcohol is free as long as Max is winning - that state championship doing work for everyone.

But, Charles also has no plans to go and neither does Alex.

Alex has a bottle of water he’s been sipping out of all night and Charles has a styrofoam cup that he is going to pretend is half liquor if anyone asks, and he's preparing himself for that lie when Lando starts to laugh, pointing at him before the worst thing possible happens.

"What's that on your neck, Leclerc?"

Charles wants to disappear through the pavement. He wants the entire truck to be sucked through the asphalt because Max strides over and shoves at the collar of Charles’ jacket, exposing the hickey there that he has managed to keep out of sight all week until now.

"Holy shit," Max laughs that stupid half-drunk laugh of his. "It's fucking a hickey. Man, who gave you that?"

"Bet it was that girl from out in Cedar Creek." Lando laughs, bumping his shoulder with the girl he's sitting with. She must be from Cedar Creek.

George is the one to say, "Bro, that girl is his cousin."

"Nah," Lando turns around, chunking his empty coke bottle at him. "That's Zo's cousin. That's like, not the same ‘cause they don’t have the same dad?”

"You need to get out of this place, man." Alex says. "It's close enough that it's -"

But Max slaps the tailgate of his own truck and he says, "Let's go back to mine. I'm out of whiskey."

Charles is thankful for Max Verstappen for like the second time in his life and he sinks back against the edge of his truck bed.

"Y'all comin'?" Max points at Alex and Charles even though he knows they're not.

"Visitation tomorrow," is all Alex says, but everyone nods and Charles makes a little driving motion to mean that he's Alex’s ride and they're waved off in a chorus of see you Sunday's and Charles is thankful to escape quickly when he sees George staring at the hickey on his neck with his head tilted.

George is fucking smart. Charles doesn't need him to figure it out.

Alex is waiting for him in the passenger seat, tapping his hands on the dash and smiling at him brightly. "You gonna sneak off to see your Cedar Creek honey?"

Charles knows it's a joke, but it doesn't land on him in a comfortable way. He's tense and worried and it hurts and so he tries to laugh - it comes out all wobbly and Alex immediately stops laughing.

He doesn't say anything else as Charles gets them out of the parking lot and over to the other side of town and he's starting to feel really guilty about it, but then Alex says, "Pierre was visiting from Oklahoma State this last weekend, wasn't he?"

Charles wants to slam on the brakes and throw him out.

Instead, he says real tight, "yeah, he was."

Alex makes a little hum and then taps twice on the dashboard, "Thanks for the ride, man. See ya Monday," and then he all but bails out of the cab before Charles has come to a complete stop and Charles is left breathing too hard.

There's no way he can know.

That's what Charles repeats to himself a hundred times while he drives home.

There's no way he can know.

There's no way he can know.

The lights in his house are off. Arthur is out somewhere and his mom is already in bed so he lets himself in the house and heads straight back to his room, peeling that stiff letterman off and tossing it over the back of one of the dining room chairs.

He's tacky with sweat underneath it despite the temperature being near freezing outside. The panic had crawled all over him and he couldn't shake it off, but he knows what will quell it.

What always quells it…

He pulls his shirt off in one motion, letting it drop in the hamper right inside his door before reaching immediately for the one folded on his desk - plain white, nondescript. Except for the P. Gasly in block lettering on the collar and the shiny white logo on the front that marks it as an official shirt for the Sooner football team, it could be any number of white shirts in his possession.

The faint scent of Pierre's cologne clings to it but that will disappear completely before he can exchange it for a new one so the knowledge that it's been on Pierre's body has to be enough.

Pierre answers on the second ring, a soft baby rings down the line as Charles flops down onto his bed, pressing the phone closer to his ear until it aches.

He breathes in Pierre's scent and he whispers back to him "calamar" and he dreams of a time in which football and this town doesn't keep them in the shadows anymore.

[zablife]

Chocolate Chip Pancakes

Summary: Richie goes to jail and leaves Carm to watch Eva.

Author's Note: My first fic for The Bear so please be kind!

Warnings: language, mention of jail

“Cousin, you gotta get Eva for me. Just for tonight,” Richie begged as his hands were being restrained, a sudden clarity coming over him as he remembered his little girl was waiting across town.

“Yeah and what about you, dickhead?” Carmy asked. “Who else do you think is gonna bail you out?” he asked, looking at Fak doubtfully. Fak hung his head and retreated to the kitchen as the officers hauled Richie to his feet, shuffling him to the door.

“He’s not going anywhere until we get word from the hospital,” one of the cops barked, giving Richie’s elbow a shove.

“Please….and don’t tell Tiff,” Richie pleaded. Carm nodded in agreement. The last thing he needed on top of the property damage and assault charges was a visit from Richie’s ex-wife, screeching at him and tearing his stomach to shreds.

Pulling a cigarette from the pack, he watched his cousin get shoved into the back of the police cruiser and whisked away. Looking at his watch he realized he only had thirty minutes to get to Eva’s babysitter. 

—————————————

“Where’s Richie?” Izzy asked. 

“He had some stuff to finish up at the restaurant. I’m supposed to pick her up,” Carm said, trying to sound vague, yet convincing. 

Izzy furrowed her brow, scanning him up and down. He looked exhausted and had clearly come from a long shift himself. He smelled like grease and smoke, a hint of garlic. She knew Carm from school, but it had been a long time.

“Thought you went to New York or some shit. Are you really working at the Beef now?” she asked.

“Look, it’s late. Can you pack Eva’s bag, please?” he asked, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He didn’t like discussing his homecoming with people as it inevitably led to unwanted questions about his brother, Mikey. 

“Yeah, I’ll get her,” she said, leaving the door open for him to come inside.

—————————————

As they walked inside his tiny apartment, Eva asked, “Is Daddy coming?”

“No, um…he’s busy tonight,” Carm lied.

Eva looked around cautiously, taking in the stacks of cookbooks and haphazard piles of laundry and pots, strewn everywhere. “Don't you have a bed?” she asked, eyeing the couch made up with a pillow and blankets.

“Yeah, yeah…I got a bed,” Carm assured her. “Lemme show ya,” he said, ushering her down the hall to his room, unused even after months of occupancy. He opened the door to the sparse room, a mattress with a single sheet, nothing more.

Eva craned her neck as she took in the bare walls. “This is your room?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Carm replied. 

“Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, why?” he replied too defensively for her liking.

“You don’t have any posters or stuff in here. Where are your clothes?” she said, nose scrunched in disapproval.

Placing her bag on the floor, Carm scratched the back of his neck before indicating down the hall. “I…uh….I keep everything in the living room."

“Why?” Eva asked, thinking it was really weird this man had his own room, but never put anything in it. She had two rooms she'd decorated with all her important possessions. She thought about the stars on her ceiling at her dad's apartment and the rows of stuffed animals lining the bed at her mom's house.

“I dunno, the living room has a tv,” Carm mumbled as though that might serve as an answer. However, Eva continued to bore a hole into him and it unnerved him how many questions she asked. He thought she would be easier to look after.

“Look, your dad said you gotta go to bed. So, here’s your bed,” he said, pointing at the mattress. 

“Ok,” she nodded and Carm breathed a sigh of relief. “But I need a bedtime story,” she stated, eyes wide and hopeful.

“A story?” Carm said with a gulp.

Eva nodded vigorously as she plopped down on the mattress and patted the space beside her.

Carm ran a hand through his disheveled hair, feeling the ache in his gut and nodded. “Ok, yeah. A story….lemme think a minute,” he said, trying to remember something suitable for a child. What the fuck would Richie say, he thought? Probably something about the epic bar fight he'd gotten into alongside Mikey on St. Paddy's Day back in '02. Fuck, he couldn’t tell her that. Think, Carm! Tell the kid something wholesome, something fucking normal!

“Ah…once upon a time...” Yeah stories started like this, he knew they did. Keep going asshole, she’ll be asleep any minute now, he thought. “There were three bears...” Bears, yes! Bears were good. “They lived in a house and there was a little girl who broke in because she was like super rude or somethin’ and she couldn’t wait to go to sleep.”  Wait…fuck, he was tired. How did the story go? 

Eva giggled. “Do you mean Goldilocks and The Three Bears?” she asked in a pitying tone.

“That’s the one!” Carm nodded. 

“You’re not telling it right!” she scolded him.

“I’m not?” he asked with a chuckle.

“No!” she squealed. “The bears leave their porridge to cool and then Goldilocks comes to their house. She tries their porridge, then their chairs, then their beds!” she giggled. 

“You should tell the story, then!” Carm said with a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Eva yawned, “I should!” 

“You’re tired,” Carm pointed out.

“I’m not!” Eva objected, bouncing on the bed.

“Ok, you’re not. But if you go to sleep now, I promise I’ll make you whatever you want to eat in the morning. What do you like?” Carm asked, voice dripping with desperation.

Eva thought for a moment and eyes glistening with mischief asked, “Anything?”

“Anything!" Carm promised, hoping for sleep in the near future.

“Alright, I want chocolate chip pancakes then. As many as I want!” she screamed. 

Carm held his ears and nodded. “Ok, ok. Chocolate chip pancakes. As many as you want. Just go to sleep, ok?”

Eva nodded in agreement and Carm shut out the light before tip toeing out of the room.

——————————

The next morning Carm woke to Eva pouncing on him, shaking his whole body with the force of a child giddy with excitement.

“Carmy, Carmy, wake up! You promised me pancakes!” she cried eagerly.

Sunlight had barely begun to stream thru the kitchen window, orange rays bathing the tiles in pale light as Carm sat up on the sofa dazed and confused. 

“What time is it?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Time to get up and make me breakfast!” the five year old announced.

“Right,” Carm announced with a cough, before rolling off the sofa toward the kitchen. He wanted a cigarette and a cup of coffee first, but gave up on the idea before his feet hit the floor. 

Eva clapped her hands, blonde hair dancing in the early morning light as she watched Carm drag a skillet from the bottom cabinet. 

She opened the refrigerator to find eggs and hauled the carton to the counter with a slight grunt. “Here ya go,” she proclaimed proudly.

“Thank you,” Carm replied, surprised she knew what ingredients to bring. 

“I help Daddy sometimes,” she responded with a shrug.

“That’s good,” he said. 

“You know what else we need?” he asked.

She shook her head and he hoisted her onto the counter to show her what other ingredients were required for their breakfast. As they continued their work, Carm found himself smiling. Eva was a smart girl and he enjoyed her company. 

“Time to flip the first one,” he told her and she edged the spatula under the pancake as he’d shown her. However, she flicked her wrist too harshly, sending the pancake flying through the air. It would have landed on the floor if not for Carm’s quick reflexes, catching it midair and redirecting it back to the skillet.

"Shit! shit! shit!" he exclaimed as the hot pancake made contact with his palm.

"You shouldn't say that," Eva scolded, holding her finger up to his face.

Carm inhaled deeply before agreeing, "You're right. Wanna try that again, chef?”

“Yes, chef!” she said with an eager grin.

“Alright, go again, hot shot!” he encouraged and she tried once more, landing in the pan this time.

“I did it, Carmy!” she yelled.

“Yeah, you did, kiddo! Good job!” he praised as the phone began to ring.

“One minute, ok?” he told her. “You got this?” he asked.

“Yup,” she replied, confidently.

Carm crossed to the other side of the kitchen to grab his cell, glancing over his shoulder to keep an eye on Eva. When he picked up, Richie was on the line, “Cousin, I got bad news…”

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

between the lines | chapter 04

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 04 — A game of two halves

rubendias hey feeling better?

Oh no. Shit. What did I do? Of course I would end up doing something as stupid as texting him. I should have gotten rid of this crush a long time ago. Should have blocked him on all social media. Should have moved to Turkey.

It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to come up with an answer. ‘Yes, thanks. Sorry for bothering you last night.’ – that’s casual enough, right? He replied with a ‘No worries’, and I tried to move on with my life.

On Wednesday night, I was at my brother’s house, watching football, as always. It was champions league night and City was in Spain playing Real Madrid for the first leg of the semi final. Sienna was sitting next to me on the couch while Carlos was putting baby Lucía to bed.

“Who do we want to win?” She asked me seemingly super interested.

“The guys dressed in blue.” I say, trying to hide my blushing.

It’s been over a week and Rúben and I havent text or run into each other at supermarkets since last time. Which is good, and it’s not making me anxious at all. I’m definitely not constantly thinking about how much I embarrassed myself after just a few glasses of wine, maybe more than a few. The match was incredible, high quality performance from both teams for the entire 90 minutes. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen for even a second. When the ref blows the final whistle, I have a smile on my face. 

“They should send you on international trips. You covered most of City’s games this season, you should be there for this one too!” Carlos suggests.

“That kind of ruins the whole me being a correspondent thing, if they just send me back to Spain, you know?”

“Bullshit. Free trip to Madrid would be cool.”

He’s right, it would be cool. Instead, I go back to my tiny studio apartment. As I check my phone before bed, my heart beats rapidly and I feel my hands start to sweat. He texted me.

rubendias can i call you if thats okay with you

I replay ‘Yes’ as quickly as humanly possible, not even thinking about what it means or what he wants. I send him my number and after a minute I hear his voice on the other side of the line.

“Hi, Isa.” I can practically hear him smiling over the phone and I can’t help smiling back.

“Hi.” I try to sound cool and interesting, it’s hard to tell if I succeed, especially saying only one word.

“Did you watch the game?” Rúben asks. I’m laying in bed, on my stomach, with my feet up in the air. I’m wearing one of my dad’s old t-shirts, like, older than my brother. Hair is a mess, no make up. I’m in what I call my ‘raw’ state. Just skin and bones. I’m glad Rúben can’t see me now.

“I did, yes. Amazing! Really, top, top performance from everybody today.” I’m truly excited as I speak and he chuckles.

“It really was, I’m very lucky to be a part of something like this.” There’s a pause after he says that. I don’t know what to say, he was the one that asked to call. After a second too long, he continues: “I thought a lot about what you said. That I don't know what you look like when you’re having fun.” He gives a light chuckle again, as if he’s nervous saying that. I’m definitely nervous hearing it. “I want to know.”

“Oh. Yeah? You want to be friends?” I ask, trying so hard not to shove my head under a pillow and scream for two hours straight.

“Something like that. I want to get to know you better.” 

I don’t even have time to answer because right after he says: “Shit, I have to go. But can I call you again? And we could meet up, maybe?”

“Yeah, sure. Yes, call me.”

We say goodbye and I don’t know how to fall asleep after that. This guy is already everywhere I go, how much bigger do I want to make this problem? Does he even know what he does to me? I have work tomorrow and all I can do is stare at the ceiling wondering what the hell does he want from me. What do I have to offer? Is it just sex, is he just trying to sleep with me? And just like that, it’s 3 am, and then 6 am, and I have to get up.

“You look like shit, what happened to you?” Sebastian, as always, so subtle. He’s probably right. We’re doing office work and as a proof I’m not God’s favorite sheep, Seb sits right next to me, staring and evaluating me as a kindergarten would to a baby chick.

“I just couldn't sleep, okay? Fuck off.”

He continues staring at me while he reaches into his pocket and grabs a little bottle, he shows it to me and it reads ‘melatonin’ in big letters.

“I have drops and gummies, which one do you want?” He asks and I sigh, reminding myself that it’s not his fault I couldn't sleep and that we’re actually friends.

“It’s okay,” I wave, denying his offer. “It's not a recurring issue.”

“Oh…” Seb then raises his brow. “I see…”

“Yeah? What do your ‘all seeing’ eyes see?” I laugh at his facial expression, he looks like he just heard the juiciest secret.

“It’s a guy issue, isn't it? A ‘lad’ issue!” Seb points at me and I continue to laugh.

“Nope.”

“No?”

“It’s a ‘man’ issue.” I pronounce each word carefully and it’s Seb’s time to laugh.

“I see, good luck with your ‘man issue’.”

I nod and point at his desk.

“Now let’s get back to work, this is my least favorite part of my day, I don’t want to spend more time than needed here.”

During my lunch break, as if he knew I was available, Rúben called.

“Hi, Isa.” 

I mean, fuck me, right? Will I ever get tired of hearing him say my name?

“Hi. Rúben.”

Does he feel like this too? Should I be calling his name more often?

“What do you think of dinner? I mean, us having dinner together. Tonight.” He gives that nervous chuckle again and the butterflies in my stomach almost make me throw up. Disgusting.

“Well, I was planning on having dinner anyway.” I joke.

"That 's great!” He enthusiastically replies.

“It’s a very important meal.”

“It’s one of my favorites.” Rúben laughs saying that.

“One of? Which one is your favorite?” I ask curiously.

“I really like breakfast. Brunch at second place.”

“Maybe I can change your mind about dinner. Tonight, right? Jump it up a few places?”

“If you can't,” He clears his throat. “Then we’ll have breakfast together tomorrow,” Rúben laughs, joking. “and maybe I’ll change your mind?”

I pause for a second, biting my lips. 

"It 's a deal.”

When Sienna calls me later in the day, I don’t tell her about the dinner. I just listen to her talking about baby Lucía’s shenanigans, and about the new dish she learned using only three ingredients, according to her I will never guess which ingredients it is; when Mel texts me, I don’t tell her about the date either, I mean dinner, shit. Dinner. I don’t tell her. We text about work and how much we hate our bosses, but not really. I want to ask her what color favors me best, what lipstick looks better on me. But I don't, cause it’s not a date. It’s just dinner with a man who’s practically my coworkers and wants to get to know me better. For purely platonic reasons. Because what other reason would he have?

...

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@91vhs

[siremasterlawrence]

The Club Part 1

Timothy Thomas Tom Ellis is the owner of the new nightclub opening in my city the one I am on a train ride glacially heading up north.

The train stops as I enter the club from a far I pace in without question sneaking in to the back door and up the staircase to the back elevator.

I press the top floor walking on as it races up to the top floor I descend to yeah floor below me and take a seat after pouring a vial in to his wine glass.

The elevator shaft pops open allowing him to greet me head on he stops cold spinning around to see meeting me head on as our eye line meet.

He faces me picking up his wine glass and pouring him a drink of liquor then taking a sip from it I can see the momentary feeling no sensation.

Overriding all of his send his back bends a bit tilting backward as his eyes flutter close and he begins to moans blissfully in utter turning on.

I knew what I had following him as my front lands on his back greeting him he barely even notices and embraces me touch for a bit.

I spun him to face once more cupping his chin tightly I pull him closer to me meeting chin to chin as we kiss slowly wrapping my body on his.

I laugh bit locking the apartment up flipping a switch blowing the fire place on he sits on my happily blissfully unaware of the truth he is dealt.

Slamming my cock in to his after I land on his waist undoing his belt, his underwear and facing his back to me I slam his ass in to my cock.

The next morning I awoke in a strange room clearly the master bedroom with a strange young guy standing at the edge of bed with an expression.

He stood emotionless staring at me not sure what to do in a curious look I finally see Tom holding him up behind him his hands playing with his nipples.

I dismay Tom to cool me breakfast shoving his back in to the wall, I cover the wall over his body spreading on top of him and I block him.

I lean in kissing him slowly cupping his chin with my hand I lean in again as we kiss and cement my power permanently in to his psyche.

Placing my body on top of his our skin to skin touching in embrace we fall to the floor rolling on the carpet he inhales my scent in his nose.

It’s a roll in the carpet our scents mixing all together in a haze of fog creating an aroma in the air it is inhaling in to his nose causing him to sneeze.

His cock grows hard under me springing in to his jeans as our cock touch together for a long lengthy state and his vein is throbbing hard.

“You know you should worship like your dad did, this club is under my ownership now and forever.” I whisper in to his ears.

The second eldest son is half naked by the kitchen taking drink as we head to the table for breakfast he is clearly so drunk as fuck apparently.

He drops his glass demanding to know who the fuck I am, I gleefully smile to his utter irritation and disappointment.

“Who the shit are you fuck off?”

“Address me properly “

“I am a man a great one “

“Submit fully to me”

“Be all mine “

“Forever and ever”

“Oh My God!”

“WHAT?”

“I fucking love you “

“I love you too”

“Command me too as well”

“Who are you?”

“The brat”

“My dad drugged me”

“Shameful”

“Scandalous”

“You are him”

“The man of my dreams”

“My everything “

“My world “

“My life “

“My God”

The end

[letterforyou1984]

Becky,

Im calling you Becky because I know how much you hate it. You died about seven years ago. I know it was after mom died, but I couldn’t give two shit about remembering anything more than that. You were a horrible, disgusting, and hateful person. The world is better off without you in it. It would have been better for everyone if you ceased to exist 40 years ago.

I have never met anyone as selfish, vindictive, and narcissistic as you. You would throw a toddler sized fit anytime the attention wasn’t on you and be damned anyone who didn’t agree with you.

I blocked out a lot of my interactions with you, but my earliest memory involving you was when I was around 10 years old and we were in Atlanta visiting Peg. You took my brother and I to run some errands and our dad gave us a couple of bucks to get snacks while we were out. We stopped at the grocery store and my brother and I were looking at candy by the register. You started demanding we use our money to buy something for you. I said no, that our dad gave us the money for ourselves and you had your own money. You started yelling about how we owed you for letting us come with you. I don’t remember the drive back to Pegs, but I remember hiding in the spare room between the bed and wall to eat my snack. You came in the room, closed the door, and stood there screaming at me about how selfish I was. My dad heard your screaming and burst into the room, told me to leave the room, closed the door behind me, went off on you, and a bit later you came out of the room crying. You left me alone the rest of the trip, but would say things under your breath any time I walked past you.

You always had something to say about my hair, my clothes, my weight, and they were always as mean and as hurtful as you could make them. Just being in the same room as me seemed to piss you off. But then for birthdays and Christmas’s you always had a handmade gift for me.

My next memory of you was in April 2005 when Peg died. You had flown home from whatever state you were living in at the time and stated demanding things of Pegs that you felt entitled to. You wanted her bed, but when you found out mom, Lea, and Lex had already decided the bed was going to be mine, you threw a fit and started yelling about how I didn’t need or deserve the b d. Something about Peg not liking me and she would have been so angry knowing the bed was going to be mine. The next day mom got a call about cops being at Pegs apartment, so we rushed over there to find you in handcuffs. I burst into laughter and mom went into big sister mode. After talked to everyone she came back over to where I was and told me it was all over a stupid flag Peg had. All three of you (Lea and Lex being the other two) wanted the flag, but your dumbass decided to try and fight Lea and Lex to get it and you shoved Lex into a bookcase so hard she hit her head. So Lea called the cops on you. Even the cop was pissed at you. They told mom he never wanted to hit someone as much as he wanted to hit you. That you wouldn’t stop yelling and crying trying to play the victim. He was actually disappointed that mom had talked Lex into not pressing charges on you, so he had to let you go. You left after the funeral, but not before you stole the urn with Pegs ashes in it.

I had very minimal contact with you until five years later. You were calling and talking to mom more frequently and kept asking mom to get me to talk to you. I refused for a while and I wish I had stuck to my guns on it. I was stupid and started talking to you a little. You (somehow) managers to get me to believe that you had changed and had been in therapy for a while, that you wanted to fix our relationship. I was so naïve that I believed you.

When I was trying to leave an abusive boyfriend you and mom talking me into moving to Arizona. To live with you, get back in my feet; go to college, start fresh. I agreed and moved out there at the end of August 2005. I got ONE good day with you and then 12 months of pure hell.

My second day there you got mad at me and threatened to kick me out, saying you didn’t care that you were the only one I knew in the entire state and laughed at me for not having a way home. You even locked me out of the house until I called mom and told her what you did. She then called you and made you let me back in the house. The abuse from you never stoped. It was every fucking day.

You would make fun of my weight (we wore the same size asshole). You would act like every step I took was causing an earthquake. You told me I was a horrible mom, was going to fuck yo my kid, and that you were going to petition for custody. I never knew what was going to set you off. One day I closed the door harder than you liked and that resulted in you following me through the house hurling insults at me. You even tried to force your way into my room. I had to lean against it with all my weight so you couldn’t get in.

You wanted me to get a part time job to “help out” with bills, but then refused to give me a ride to work if I made you mad. I later found out that you were essentially living in the house rent free because the landlord felt sorry for you. You stole money from me every time I got paid. When your car got repossessed you blamed it on me. You threw a board game across the room because you were losing. You threw a fit because I ate the last slice of pizza, screaming that you’re not allowed to eat and everyone was starving you. If you weren’t following me to yell at me you would be standing so close to me that I was getting spit on my face from your screaming. There was a day where you had been coming at me for hours and I couldn’t get away from you. I refused to give you the satisfaction of hitting you, so I kicked the dishwasher and accidentally broke two glass cups. You called the cops on me and laid it on so thick trying to get me arrested.

You had my mom convinced that I was being dramatic and blowing things out of proportion. It wasn’t u til she and my daughter moved in four months after I did that she finally believed me. You were on your best behavior for 48 hours and turned demonic again. You had two more victims and one of them being an innocent 5 1/2 year old kid. You tried to control everything she did and would go ballistic when I would step in and put a stop to it.

For Christmas you got so upset with my daughter because she said she didn’t like something you got her, so you ripped it out of her hands. Then you started storming through the house, grabbing every gift you had hidden for her, and throwing it in a trash bag, all while screaming Christmas was cancelled because she was an ungrateful little brat and it was all my fault.

You had friends over for Easter and my daughter said something about not wanting to do an egg hunt. You got so angry with her you told your friends they needed to leave because she “just ruined Easter” by embarrassing you. You then proceeded to tell her she was grounded for a week. When my mom and I said she wasn’t you started yelling about how I was a bitch, she was spoiled, and could get away with murder.

One day when all of us were out and about you were sitting in the backseat with my daughter, you slapped her bare leg for saying the car was her Mamaws and not yours after she heard you make a comment about needing “your” car the next day. I heard the slap and it took every ounce of self control I had to not pull over on the side of the highway and leave you there. It was 115° and we were still a 20 minute drive away from the house.

My breaking point was when you got jealous that the three of us went out for the day without you, you you turned the ac off and left all the windows open all day to get the house as uncomfortably hot as you could. Mom had asthma and couldn’t breathe, so I turned the ac on while mom started closing windows. You stormed out of your room, stomping your feet the whole way, and turned the ac off and went behind mom opening the windows back up. All while screaming how we left you out of the trip on purpose and we should have woken you up since you were asleep when we left. Couldn’t believe the audacity we had going out without you. I turned the ac back on and you came running to turn it off again. You walked away and I turned the ac back on and went in my room. My daughter had gone into the bathroom, which was across from my room and right next to the thermostat. You came back to turn it back off, mom came and turned it back on. Mom walked away and you turned it back off and stood there with your hands over it. Mom walked back over, tried to move your hands, and you hip checked her so hard she stumbled backwards 10 feet and fell flat on her back. My kid witnessed the entire thing from the bathroom. I ran to check on mom, screamed that your ass was going to jail while I called the cops, grabbed my kid and ran her over to the neighbors. Thanks to AZ laws they would have had CPS take her if she was in the house when the cops got there for being in an unsafe house. Mom was taken to the hospital and you were arrested. As the cops were cuffing you you were sobbing and pleading with them to not arrest you and trying to convince them I was going to kill your dogs as soon as you were gone.

While at the hospital they helped us find a DV shelter to go to the next day. So we went home and started throwing all of our belongings into my room since it had a lock, to try and keep it safe until we could get a storage unit. As we were frantically packing everything up we noticed all of moms insulin was no longer in the fridge where it belonged. After an hour of searching where you could have hid it I found it in your bathroom, under the sink, and behind a bunch of stuff. The next morning as we were packing up the car you got dropped off my an officer after being released from jail. We didn’t notice you sneak in the house and start stealing things we hadn’t packed up yet. Anything that was worth money or you knew was sentimental to us. I started noticing things were going missing from the trunk of the car and found you hiding in the laundry room. You started laughing that you took the car keys and we couldn’t leave without them. You then locked the doors of the just and said we couldn’t leave, that if we left you would call the cops and tell them we were illegally driving with expired tags. So I called the cops instead. When the cops got there and heard from everyone they started going off on you, telling you that they could arrest you for kidnapping by stealing our car keys, locking the doors, and refusing to let us leave. You started going on and on about our expired tags and the officer said “I could not give two shits about their tabs being expired. They are fleeing for their safety, from you, and I will call every cop between here and where they are going to tell them to ignore the car when they see it.”

While we were gone you convinced all your friends and the neighbors that you were the victim and we were your abusers. You broke down the door to my bedroom and went through all of our stuff and stole even more things. You then hid all of our important papers. When it was time for court, even though it was between you and mom, your only focus was to make me look bad and get the judge to believe you were the real victim. Thankfully the judge saw through your shit and told you to stick to the agenda of the hearing or they were going to throw the book at you and give you the harshest punishment allowed.

You then spent the next YEAR trying to get our friends and family to find out where we were and to tell you when they found out. You found out when each of us moved back to Ohio and kept trying to get our addresses. You even went through our friends lists to message everyone asking for information on us.

But, thank the gods, and thanks to you always refusing to see a doctor, your body became filled with cancer and you died.

I fucking hate you and now you’re finally fucking dead.

May you be beaten and tormented by demons for all of eternity.

[studiojeon]

bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

[fantasy2739]

Jamie Prompt: Nightmares during an overnight trip so one of the teammates or multiple hear and help him. OR they find old bruises/scars from his dad's abuse. Just want to see the effects of the abuse and the team seeing those effects/helping him.

Hahahaha angst my favourite.

Gonna be honest not sure I nailed this.

Enjoy!

They just won a match against Nottingham Forest. It was a brutal match. City Ground was filled with jeers and cheers from both sides. Probably inspired by the horrific loss at Wembley. Richard nearly got taken out by one of the Nottingham players, Dani had received a dubious yellow, Sam was covered in more scrapes and bruises than should be possible, and Jamie had gone full prick without even waiting for a signal. It was a shit match. Roy grumbled the whole way back to the hotel how they were probably going to have to flee in the dead of night. Jamie just feels like shit. They should be happy. They won. Jamie thinks it’s because maybe some of the insults got a bit too personal. Maybe because at half time after one of the players had shoved Jamie and called him a pussy, the whole team had shot him looks of concern. Jamie had ignored the looks, the pounding of his heart and tried to listen to Ted. Maybe because it was just a shit match. The point is Jamie feels like shit.

“Movie night?” Ted asks, lightly, like he wouldn’t mind if they said no. There were nods, murmurs of agreement, because none of them wanted to go out really. They all cram into a big room and settle in for a movie. The choice is given to Ted, who always seems to nail the film choice. He puts on My Neighbour Totoro, probably because it’s all cute and shit. Jamie’s got to admit, it’s pretty hard to stay angry watching some fluffy thing be stupidly cuddly and friendly. It’s just a nice movie. He’s a bit apart from everyone else, half curled onto a pillow he nabbed from his room. He’s dead sleepy. If he closes his eyes just a little, it’ll be fine.

It fucking isn’t.

Jamie’s had nightmares for years. They’re pretty fucking consistent actually. His fears haven’t really changed from childhood. The same man appears. The same insults. Injuries. Pain and memories swirl into one.

Years of experience have ingrained it in his mind and body to not be loud. The vulnerability that comes with sleep keeps his mind in a state of stress. He’s never been a heavy sleeper. Too wary of footsteps in the night. If he wakes the sleeping horror in his house he knows he’s in for worse. Apparently though, he moves, a lot. And whimpers. It’s pathetic really. He’s an adult. He shouldn’t be fucking like this. He’s always in motion anyway, so it occurring in his sleep doesn’t seem like a big deal. The odd twitch is probably ignored. The violent twisting, whimpers, and arms raised in defence are not.

He’s not sure how long he’s out but there’s hands on his shoulders as he almost bolts upright. He nearly takes Isaac out. Jamie’s breathing heavily. He wrenches himself from Isaac’s grip, hands on him too much to bare.

“You alright bruv?” Isaac asks, almost gentle. Jamie just nods, not trusting his voice to come out strong.

“The fuck you are.” Roy growls. Jamie can’t help the way his body tenses. Can’t stop the way his eyes flit around in panic.

“Jamie.” Someone says hesitantly. It’s Sam, crouching down next to him. “Are you sure you are alright?” Jamie’s eyes slowly make their way to Sam.

“Yeah, fine mate.” Jamie manages, glad he sounds tired rather than scared. “Just tired yeah.” That’s enough for some of the team who drift away slightly. But Sam stays crouching next to him. Isaac barely moves from his spot almost directly above Jamie. Roy slumps in a chair slightly away, most likely because of his knee. Dani has a frown marring his face, Zoreaux appears to be debating the benefits of crowding Jamie with the others, Richard cocking his head at him almost thoughtfully. Jan is fixing Jamie with a look reminiscent of an x-ray, while Bumbercatch is chewing on his lip in apprehension. Colin is sitting right behind Jamie, face almost carefully blank.

“You were making strange noises.” Jan says bluntly. There’s lots of way Jamie could reply. He could crack a sex joke, ease the awful tension. Brush it off as not important. Instead he shrugs.

“So?” He asks. He’s not a fan of the looks exchanged between his teammates.

“You sounded like you were… having a nightmare.” Sam says cautiously. Jamie scoffs like that’s complete bullshit. Like he didn’t just have exactly that. It’s stupid to act like this. But that childhood fear of pissing someone off remains forever present.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Colin asks softly. Jamie hates it. They’re treating him like one wrong word will make him shatter. He’s not fucking soft.

“I’m fine.” He insists. He’s getting really tired of the looks.

“It’s okay to have nightmares man.” Bumbercatch interjects. “It’s not like embarrassing.” Fuck no it is. It’s shitty, embarrassing, frustrating, and probably many other words.

“Talking about these things usually helps.” Sam offers quietly.

“Don’t worry amigo, we won’t judge you.” Dani says, Jamie just wishes he’d smile. Dani not smiling feels like a sign of the apocalypse.

“We’re here bruv.” Isaac adds.

“Was it the dickbag?” Roy asks with a low growl. It doesn’t exactly narrow it down. The Nottingham fans? The Nottingham players? His dad? Jamie shrugs again.

“I’m just gonna go to bed yeah.” He tells them, twisting away slightly. He almost trips getting to his feet, Zoreaux reaches to steady him. He flinches, hating himself slightly. He grabs his pillow and tries to leave again. Roy stands up to block him.

“Was it James?” He asks, voice lowering. Like it’s just him and Jamie in the room. “Look Jamie if you need to talk about what that dick did to you-.”

“I don’t.” Jamie says quickly. “I don’t need to talk about him.” There’s a tension in the room that you could cut with a knife.

“We didn’t talk after Wembley.” Roy says, clearly remembering how Jamie had just shut everyone off when anyone asked. “Let us fucking help you.”

“Is your father always terrible to you?” Jan asks bluntly. Jamie’s eyes shoot daggers at him.

“None of your fucking business.” He snarls. Internally he cringes, thinking it sounds too much like James. Jan merely raises an eyebrow.

“Jamie if he hurt you when you were younger then maybe you should talk about it.” Sam offers. Like bringing up the past is going to make things better. Like talking ever fucking helps. Jamie wants to scream.

“So he beat the shit out of me when I was a kid. So he was a useless fucking parent. ” Jamie snaps, tears prickling at his eyes. The open looks of horror on some of his teammates faces makes him cringe. He can’t stop though, can’t just leave it as is. “He’s my fucking problem.”

“Fucking hell Jamie, he shouldn’t have done that.” Roy growls. Richard grumbles something in French that Zoreaux nods in agreement with. It’s sounds angry and Jamie’s pretty sure he hears the name James muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jamie insists.

“Of course it matters.” Sam replies. “You matter.” He probably shouldn’t scoff but Jamie can’t help it.

“Jamie, do we need to talk?” Roy asks, voice low. Jamie drops his pillow and flings his arms up.

“Fuck sake can’t we just drop it yeah? My dads a dick. We all know that.” He snaps. If the conversation continues he knows he’s going to cry. He’s going to sob like a little kid, fucking embarrassing. Roy steps closer, making Jamie shrink back. He wants to disappear into the ground. There’s nervous eyes all around.

“Let us help you amigo.” Dani says. “We are a team yes?” He offers Jamie a small smile. Jamie wishes he was yelling. Or that someone was angry, mad. Any fucking negative emotion. He knows how to deal with those. Instead everyone insists on huddling round him, offering support, caring about him.

His dad isn’t here but he can hear him calling him soft.

“It’s not… I don’t…” Jamie struggles to find the words. The ones that won’t make him cry and get everyone to leave him alone. “I just want to go to bed.”

“No way bruv.” Isaac shakes his head. “Not until you talk to us.”

“It’ll just be quicker if you do.” Colin says with a shrug, his face soft as he looks at Jamie. Jamie shoves his hands into his hoodie and blinks hard. “Otherwise we’ll just hound you til you break and tell us anyway.” Jamie stares at his team, that are standing round him like they’re worried he’s going to break if they get too far away.

“We won’t judge you.” Zoreaux says. “We just want to help.” Jamie is weak. He’s weak to them caring, with sad eyes, horrid glances. He doesn’t deserve a team ready to catch him when he falls but he’s lucky. He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve had nightmares for years.” He mumbles. “Bout him. I don’t… I’m not gonna talk about what they’re like about.” The team is nodding in understanding. “I just get so scared. And it’s stupid. I fucking hate it. I hate it so much.” Jamie sniffles, Sam and Dani move closer, both offering comfort. Jamie moves slightly out of reach, dropping onto his pillow and pulling his legs to his chest. “I don’t wanna talk about him.” It’s said into his legs but he knows they hear him. He hears a horrible cracking sound as Roy sits next to him. An arm snakes it’s way around his shoulders, he can’t help but tense. He feels someone else sit on his other side.

“Puppy pile.” He hears Bumbercatch say and suddenly there’s nine grown men leaning on him as he’s pushed close to the floor. Jamie’s pretty sure Isaac is behind him playing pillow, Colin’s on his left shoulder. Sam is on his left leg and so is Dani. Bumbercatch is somehow across both legs. Roy is looming by his right shoulder. Zoreaux is half resting on Jamie, half on Roy. Richard has managed to curl up practically on Jamie’s stomach. Jan is somewhere around his knee.

“Fuck Richard, ease up a bit.” Jamie grumbles. “I can’t breathe.”

“No.” Richard says sweetly even as he adjusts a bit so that Jamie’s lungs can actually work.

“Bro you have really bony ankles.” Bumbercatch says.

“Fuck off.” Jamie mumbles. He twists slightly, leaning into the collar of Roy’s jacket. He feels safe in the pile of people. Jan complains that he is too much person to be forced into such a cramped position. Colin cracks a joke about being too much person to handle. They’re giggling a little, letting Jamie feel at ease.

The nightmares stay away for once.

[drabbles-mc]

Language

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

@redpoodlern requested more Dad!Creeper and honestly I was more than happy to deliver on that haha. And thank you to @garbinge for always helping me pull together all of my ideas!

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Creeper being a big ol’ softie with his kiddos

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This definitely takes place in the same universe as Like Father, Like Son because I’m a big fan of the family dynamic that I was sort of starting to build there. If no one has any objections that’s probably going to be my default HC for my future Dad!Creeper fics unless stated otherwise haha. I just love the idea of him with a pack of kids.

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The kids had one week off from school. One week. Seven days. Technically only five if you weren’t counting the weekend. You didn’t want to take the entire week off of work when you would be out on maternity leave in a couple more months, and as much as Creeper wanted you to be taking it easy, he said that if you really wanted save your time off for your leave, he would gladly keep the kids with him for the week.

“You and the guys can’t be doing,” you glanced around to make sure the kids weren’t in the room, “You and the guys can’t be doing serious club shit while they’re there, okay?” you knew that Creeper was always careful, but you also knew that some of the other men in the MC with him weren’t quite as cautious.

“Never, mama,” he leaned in and kissed your cheek, “Don’t worry. We’ll hold it down. It’s been a while since they got some time with their uncles, anyway.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking a deep breath, “Go round up the gremlins, then,” you laughed, “They should each have their backpack with stuff in it.”

“Givin’ ‘em homework on their week off?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “No, no. Just stuff to do if they get bored at the clubhouse. Coloring books, matchbox cars, whatever else they can fit in there.”

“Pfft,” he shook his head, “like we’ll ever let them get bored,” he let out a whistle, “Let’s go, homies! Time to roll out.”

Their footsteps thundered through the house as all three if them came booking it down the hall, each with their backpacks either on their shoulders or dangling from their hands. Both you and Creeper laughed at how excited they were to spend some time with their dad and their entire squad of uncles at the clubhouse.

“Which car you taking, baby?” you asked him.

“Just figured I’d take the van. It’s got all their stuff in it already.”

You smiled, nodding as you grabbed the keys off the counter and tossed them to him, “Alright, no doing donuts with it.”

He chuckled, “If they ask I won’t be able to tell them no,” he was about to say something else when his phone started going off in the pocket of his kutte. He reached and took it out, brows furrowing slightly as he answered, “Yea? Yea I’m about to head out. We’ll talk about it when I get there,” he shook his head slightly, “Alright yea,” with a huff he hung up the phone.

“All good?” you arched one eyebrow.

He nodded, “Yea. They act like I’m not gonna see them in twenty minutes. What the fuck is that important that it can’t wait?”

You shot him a glare, “Neron! Language, please.”

“Shit, sorry.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He smiled sheepishly, stepping in close to give you a kiss, “I’m sorry, I love you, and I’ll call you later, mama.”

“Mhm,” you laughed as you playfully shoved him towards the door, “Tell the kids they gotta keep your boys in line.”

“They don’t even need me to tell ‘em.”

Very few things rivaled the excitement that the guys felt when they saw the minivan rolling into the scrapyard. Seconds after Creeper threw the van in park, all of the kids came sprinting out. His son leapt out of the passenger seat as his little sisters came tumbling out the back. It was quite the scene watching them walk up with their father, looking like quite the entourage all together.

“Wifey let you take the real whip today, huh?” Angel said with a laugh as he pulled Creeper into a hug.

He chuckled, “Anything for the wolfpack,” Creeper watched as his kids made their rounds to say hi and hug each of the men that were outside the clubhouse waiting for them to arrive.

Angel looked over at the minivan, “Still can’t believe she let you put those fuckin’ stickers on there, bro,” he laughed.

“Yo,” he smacked Angel in the chest, “No swearin’ in front of the kids,” he paused, “What do you got against the stickers? I think they’re cool.”

“Guess I just never thought that your soccer mom van needed fake bullet holes.”

“That’s what keeps it from being a soccer mom van,” he tapped the side of his head with a knowing look, like he had cracked some sort of code.

“Right,” Angel laughed and shook his head before turning his attention to the kids, “Brandon! Get over here! Let’s see if you’re taller than me yet, dude.”

Creeper turned and saw that the twins were already trying to take Hank down to the ground—a goal that they’d had ever since they were little toddlers. Every time they saw him, they got closer and closer to being successful but they weren’t quite there yet. He had one hanging off of each arm as he tried to walk across the yard without falling over onto them. Creeper laughed as he watched the shenanigans unfold, and they’d only been there for about two minutes.

“Alex! Ava!” he shook his head slightly with a smile, “Give Uncle Hank a break, alright? The man has work to do.”

“They’ll be taking him to the ground soon enough, man,” EZ laughed as he let Hank struggle with the two little girls.

“Make sure you’re filming it,” Creeper responded with a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How’s Y/N?” EZ asked.

“Pregnant,” he looked over at EZ and laughed, “Nah she’s good. Working this week, so we got some extra help around here.”

“She’s still working?”

He nodded, “Oh yea. She’ll work till the baby pops outta her,” he shook his head, “I don’t know how she fu—” he caught himself, “I got no clue how she does it, man.”

“Pregnancy one of those things you get better at the more you do it?”

He laughed, “Why don’t you ask her next time you see her?”

“Hard pass,” he shook his head, laughing.

Creeper was glad that he had an entire team of guys to help him try to tire them all out, because it wasn’t an easy task in the slightest. At one point he was fairly certain that he lost them in the depths of the scrapyard and when he did finally find them, they were running around and playing hide and seek where all the scrapped cars were kept. The only thing that kept him from having a heart attack at the sight of it was knowing that none of the cars had any glass left in them that the kids could cut themselves on. But the three of them had easily turned the scrapyard into their kingdom.

“C’mon, lunch time,” he called out to them and they all hesitated, not quite ready to give up the game. Creeper sighed, “Chucky made lunch for you guys.”

That was all it took. Their eyes lit up and the girls almost pushed their brother to the ground in an attempt to beat him back to the clubhouse. Creeper shook his head as he followed them, egging them all on.

“C’mon, B-Dawg, use those legs!” he called after his son with a laugh.

“Knees to chest, Brandon!” Angel joined in as he watched the three of them race up the steps of the clubhouse.

Soon enough, the three of them were all sat at one of the tables inside the clubhouse. Chucky beamed at them, “The Vargas Trio,” he brought their plates over, “I hear you’re keeping us company for the week.”

“Dad said we get to come every day,” Ava said as she shoveled a spoonful of food into her mouth.

“Eat first, then talk, lil mama,” Creeper chastised her with a small smile as he shook his head.

Creeper sat at the table with them, casually drinking his beer as he watched the three of them tuck into the lunch that Chucky had made for them. He knew that Chucky loved when the kids were around—he became the ultimate chef and babysitter once those kids set foot on the property. There wasn’t a single thing that he wouldn’t do for those kids and Creeper could tell just by the way that Chucky seemed so at peace as he watched them sitting around the table together.

“What d’you guys say?” he asked them as he nodded towards Chucky.

“Thank you, Uncle Chucky,” they all said in unison.

The warmest of smiles spread across Chucky’s face as he nodded, “The pleasure is all mine.”

By late in the afternoon, the kids were finally starting to run out of steam. The girls were sprawled out on the floor of the clubhouse, art supplies strewn everywhere as they worked through entire sketchbooks’ worth of paper with Chucky. Brandon had been lurking at a safe distance as he watched some of the guys work in the scrapyard. The idea of breaking things apart was intriguing for many reasons to an eight-year-old boy, but he always listened if one of the men said to back up or not touch something. Every now and then, though, Creeper would let him take a crack at something with the hammer and the excitement on his son’s face was contagious.

The two of them walked back into the clubhouse to get a couple water bottles for themselves and the rest of the guys outside. Creeper was behind the bar, handing them over to his son while also trying to get a good look at what Alex and Ava were up to with Chucky. He smiled at the way the three of them seemed to exist so peacefully together. He hoped that the twins would always get along as well as they seemed to so far.

There was the quiet snapping sound of a pencil point breaking, followed by Alex tossing it to the side and huffing, “Fuck that.”

The entire clubhouse fell silent. Creeper’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped slightly and Chucky looked over to him, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say or do. Creeper set one last water bottle down on the surface of the bar before addressing the issue.

“Alex? You good, babygirl?”

“It’s like the bazillionth time my pencil has broken.”

He wanted to be amused but he knew that you’d kill him for not talking about the whole language issue, “Alright. I hear you. But…but you can’t be talkin’ like that. Where’d you even hear that, anyway?”

“You,” all three of his kids replied in unison.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as he pressed his lips together into a thin line, trying to figure out what the right way to go about this was, “Look,” he waved for his son to follow him as he walked over to his daughters, “You can’t be talkin’ like that, okay? Those are grownup words. Whatever you do,” he rested his hand on her shoulder gently, “Don’t say that in front of Mommy,” he looked amongst the three of them, “And if it slips, you tell her that Uncle Angel taught you that, alright?” they all nodded and he let out a tiny sigh of relief, “Good. Okay.”

That was the last thing he said about it as he nudged Brandon’s shoulder and they went back to collect up the water bottles and bring them outside. The girls went back to their drawings and Chucky decided that there was nothing left to do but follow suit.

“Uncle Chucky?” Alex asked without looking up from her paper.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why don’t you talk like they do?” she continued to fill in the cartoon coloring page, “Daddy says they’re grownup words but I never hear you saying them.”

“Speaking like a grownup doesn’t interest me in the slightest,” he smiled at her before returning to his own paper.

It was a week filled with antics. The clubhouse was covered in coloring pages of every cartoon and Disney character you could possibly think of. All of the guys had gotten their nails painted by the twins at least once. Brandon got his own Romero Brothers work-shirt and now he never wanted to take it off. Every single member of the MC was tired in a way they never remembered being tired before. Nap time was something that everyone partook in, even the adults, because they all needed the rest.

You took a half day on Friday so you could spend some time with all of them at the clubhouse. You liked seeing the kids running around having a good time with the guys, and truthfully you missed the nights you’d stay late with Creeper there. Late-night partying hadn’t been something the two of you had done in a long time, but none of that compared to the sense of joy you felt as you heard your daughters very intensely explaining the entire plot of both Frozen movies to EZ, who sat and nodded along, a very serious look on his face.

You smiled, making your rounds to say hello to the guys before you made your way over to Creeper who was sitting at the bar. He smiled, standing up to place a kiss to your lips and then to your belly before offering you his seat. You took it without hesitation, always happy to be off your feet for a few minutes.

“How’s the week been?” you asked as you glanced around the clubhouse.

He nodded, “Good. The guys will be sleeping for a week straight once the kids go back to school,” he laughed.

You smiled, nodding, “I bet.”

“It’s been nice having them here. Keeps things from getting to serious.”

“Yea,” you chuckled, “I’d imagine that it’s a bit harder to have a serious argument when all of your tables are covered in drawings of Olaf and Moana, and everyone’s nails are painted hot pink.”

“I kinda like it,” he held his hand out for you to inspect, “But I think purple is more my color.”

You laugh, nodding, “Oh, for sure, baby.”

The two of you were chatting when all of a sudden you heard a series of thuds, followed by Ava softly, but very clearly, saying, “Fuck,” as she rubbed her skinned knee.

You looked over at your husband, staring daggers, “Neron, I swear to god if—”

“It wasn’t me, mama, I swear,” he held his hands up in surrender.

With a sigh you rose up from the stool and made your way over to your daughter. You looked at her knee—it was scraped but it wasn’t bleeding. She also wasn’t crying which was a good sign. You asked if she was alright and when she said yes, you asked your follow-up question, “Where’d you hear that word, sweetie? Because those aren’t words that you should be using.”

Creeper held his breath as he waited for her to respond. Ava looked at you, and with no hesitation she responded, “Uncle Angel.”

You whipped your head to look at the biker in question. His eyes were as wide as you’d ever seen them. He tried to sputter out a denial, some kind of defense, but he couldn’t string the words together. He couldn’t believe that he’d just been thrown under the bus like that, especially by the girl who not even an hour beforehand said that he was her favorite uncle.

Calmly, you rose to your feet and smoothed out your dress. Creeper recognized the look in your eye and he knew that Angel was in for it. He felt bad, but not bad enough to step in and tell you the truth of the matter. It was a little deal in the grand scheme of things, really.

“Baby,” Creeper called after you, “Baby I can handle—”

“It’s fine, Neron,” your tone was dangerously even, “I just wanna talk to Uncle Angel for a minute.”

He knew that that meant you did not want to talk, “Mama, really—”

“Bring the kids outside, please. We gotta start heading home anyway.”

At that point he knew that he wasn’t going to convince you. He scooped Alex in one arm and Ava in the other, “Alright, let’s go, babygirls,” he nudged Brandon gently towards the door, “C’mon, lil homie, let’s pack the car up.”

Once the clubhouse door shut behind them, you turned your full attention to Angel. You picked up a stray coloring book and rolled it the same way you would a newspaper, and smacked him with it, “Angel Reyes!”

“Ah,” he held his arms to block your swings, “Y/N, hear me out!”

“You will not,” you smacked him again, “be teaching my six-year-olds how to cuss,” you hit him with the book once more for good measure, “Got it? Pregnant or not I will beat your ass.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay. Sorry, querida. Didn’t realize that they picked things up so quick.”

You pointed the rolled up coloring book at him accusingly, “Better start realizing it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.

You looked at him for a few seconds before giving a nod of approval and dropping the book back onto the table, “Good. Alright then,” you stood on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Glad we’re on the same page. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he shook his head slightly as he followed you out of the clubhouse.

He said goodbye to the three kids as they piled into the minivan before pulling Creeper to the side, “Why’d Ava snitch on me like that, bro?”

Creeper chuckled nervously, running his hand over his head, “About that. I…I might’ve told them to blame you if they slipped up in front of their mom.”

“What the fuck, Creep?”

“What? You tellin’ me you wouldn’t do the same shit?”

He paused for a moment before laughing, “Yea, probably. But still,” he gave him a light shove, “Messed up turning my own nieces and nephew against me like that.”

“Technically just turning their mom against you a little bit,” he chuckled.

“I feel like that’s worse.”

“It’s definitely worse,” Creeper clapped him on the shoulder, “Well. Better get ready. Next vacation is gonna be for the whole summer.”

Angel laughed as he hugged Creeper, “Can’t wait.”

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 4

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cheating obviously, some angst and fluff, public teasing, unprotected sex (oops), light degradation/impact play/begging, use of restraints, brief face sitting, shit just goes down in general just wait

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: hey... how y’all doing... yeah I disappeared... but I’m back! The past two months were a mess but I’m ready to come back now and I’m v excited. Pls accept this chapter as a token of my forgiveness </3 Feedback is appreciated as always :) AND THANK U FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!!! :D

Chapters: Previous | Next | Masterlist

The ride home was quiet.

Jisoo had drank a little too much, and it was evident by the way she laid her head upon your shoulder and mumbled slurred gibberish against your skin.

You opted to ignore her drunken antics, and instead just wrapped your arm around her shoulder while training your eyes on the darkness outside the front window.

Only when Jisoo trudged over to her bed after taking off her makeup and changing her clothes did she seem to have sobered up. She sprawled across her mattress, her face pressed into the blankets, before she turned and gazed at you. You were laying on your own bed, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you stared up at the ceiling.

Finally, Jisoo spoke a coherent sentence.

"Where did you go?" She asked. "At the party," she added a moment later.

You hesitated for a second.

"Wonwoo called me so I went to the bathroom. And then we fought because he was pissed that I went to a party without telling him." You explained. It wasn't a lie; that was what happened, before Mingyu showed up of course.

Jisoo sat up quickly in her bed, crossing her legs like a child listening intently to a teacher. She placed a hand under her chin and narrowed her eyes at you.

"You fought..." She started but trailed off. "Is that why you went off with Mingyu?" She questioned.

You stopped toying with the fabric of your shirt, completely frozen in place at the accusation.

"What?" You responded, your mouth suddenly dry. You sat up in your own bed now, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Come on, I'm not stupid." Jisoo rolled her eyes. "I saw you and Mingyu going upstairs. And then a minute later some guy comes in screaming about how he found Mingyu and some girl fucking in the bathroom. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."

You were horrified. It felt as if a hard punch had been delivered to your gut and a million wasps stung your skin at once. You could barely catch your breath.

"Wha- Does everyone know?" You cried, not even attempting to cover up that you had sex with Mingyu; Jisoo had already figured it out, and there was no way you could ever convince her otherwise.

Jisoo shook her head. "No, I only knew cause I saw you with him. And I didn't say anything to anyone." She reassured you.

You didn't say anything else. Hell, you couldn't even think of anything to say. You threw yourself back against the bed, covering your face with your hands. Embarrassment ate away at you.

Jisoo watched you in your distressed state, and she almost felt inclined to apologize. She shook away the thought and asked: "What are you gonna do?"

You peeled your hands off your face and sighed. You felt like crying again. You hated it; you were so sick of crying.

"What am I supposed to do?" You responded. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."

Jisoo chewed on her bottom lip as she thought for a moment. "Well... do you still wanna be with Wonwoo?"

"Yes," you said quickly. "I still love him. And I miss him a lot. But I just... things have been really bad lately."

Jisoo finally laid back down, mimicking you by staring at the ceiling. "You're gonna have to talk things out with him then. Be honest. Stop seeing Mingyu." She sighed. "That's what I would do."

You knew that Jisoo was right. But the thought of cutting off Mingyu left a sour taste in your mouth. You liked him a lot, as a person, and it felt unfair to just ditch him after the times he was there to comfort you.

But this was all so much more unfair to Wonwoo.

"Are you sure... that you wanna stay with Wonwoo?" Jisoo added in response to your silence.

Were you sure?

You said that you loved him: You loved the Wonwoo that took you to the cafe near campus and bought you your favorite latte; the Wonwoo that spent hours in bed with you binge-watching dumb cartoons; the Wonwoo that stayed up late with you on weekends to help you study for your exams.

He was still that same person. Things were just different now that you were far apart and couldn't be in each other's presence anymore.

Right?

Would the Wonwoo from a year ago have ignored your texts and angrily hung up on you?

How could this all possibly be to blame on some distance?

Jisoo took your silence as an answer and cleared her throat to regain your attention. She shifted onto her side to look at you, and you turned your head to meet her eyes.

"Look, I don't think you're a bad person, okay? I think you just made some mistakes." She said. "I know you care a lot about him, but long distance doesn't work for everyone."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop them from watering.

"Just think about it, okay? I don't want you or other people getting hurt." Jisoo said. She rolled onto her other side, her back now facing you. "Goodnight. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight," you finally responded. Your voice was hoarse and weak.

You swallowed, and then reached for your phone.

You: that guy from the bathroom told everyone about you Sent at 12:48 AM

To your surprise, Mingyu responded quickly.

Mingyu: oh I know Sent at 12:48 AM

Mingyu: don't worry I already put him in his place Sent at 12:48 AM

You giggled quietly to yourself as you typed a response.

You: should I be scared for him? Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: nah he'll live Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: goodnight Y/N Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: sweet dreams :) Sent at 12:50 AM

Just as you finished typing a reply, quiet vibrating sounded from Jisoo's side of the room.

She stirred in her light state of sleep, feeling around her bed and eventually pulling her phone out from under her pillow. "Hello?" She said, hints of tiredness evident in her voice.

You wondered who could possibly be calling her right now. You guessed it was Seungcheol, but once Jisoo shot up in her bed alarmingly fast you began to doubt yourself.

"What?" She cried. "Is he okay?"

You sat up yourself now, watching her with concern as she turned on the light and began rummaging through her closet.

"I'm leaving right now. No, I'll be fine. I'll text you." She said as she pulled a backpack out and began wildly shoving items into it.

"What? Where are you going? What's going on?" You questioned once she hung up.

"My dad's in the hospital. Had a stroke or a heart attack or something, I don't know." Jisoo rambled without looking at you. She ran over to the bathroom with her bag in hand. "I'm going home for a few days." She explained from the other room.

When she walked back into the room, her backpack was slung over her shoulders and her eyes were shiny with tears.

"I hope he's okay. Please be safe." You responded, though it just made you feel useless.

"Thank you," she said, looking at you with saddened eyes before turning towards the door. "I'll see you soon." She called over her shoulder before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

Then you were left alone, with nothing but the dark room and the thoughts that weighed on your conscience.

You found it difficult to fall asleep that night.

When you walked into class on Tuesday, Mingyu looked different.

His hair was pushed back in his signature style and he wore his usual plain shirt and jeans, but something about him was changed. His chest seemed to be lifted with a newfound confidence.

He gave you a small smile when you approached him, and you swore you noticed his eyes graze over your figure, but you sat down without saying anything. You adjusted your skirt as you settled into your seat and pulled out your phone.

You anxiously checked your notifications, waiting for Wonwoo's name to appear, but there was still no answer.

You finally had sent him a text this morning saying that you needed to talk to him. You had spent the past few days thinking about what Jisoo said, and it was difficult to admit, but she was right.

Now it was just a waiting game until Wonwoo was ready to talk.

A notification caused your phone to buzz, and you perked up as you thought it might be Wonwoo, but instead it was a text from Mingyu.

You glanced over at him with your brows furrowed, and he just stared ahead, biting his lip to suppress a smirk. You opened the message.

Mingyu: you look good Sent at 10:05 AM

Your skin flushed at the compliment, and you quickly typed a reply.

You: you couldn't have said that to me in person? Sent at 10:06 AM

His own phone vibrated against the desk with your response. He picked it up nonchalantly, huffing out a quiet laugh.

Mingyu: well the reason I didn't say it out loud Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: is cause I also wanted to say that I keep thinking about last weekend Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: when your thighs were shaking Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: seeing you in that skirt reminded me of it Sent at 10:07 AM

You impulsively pressed your thighs together, your eyes widening and your lips flattening into a line as each message showed up on your screen.

You: you really think this is the time and place to be saying that? Sent at 10:07 AM

You: calm down you're acting like a douchey frat boy Sent at 10:07 AM

You smiled to yourself at your teasing reply, and you heard Mingyu quietly chuckle.

Mingyu: wowwwww Sent at 10:07 AM

Mingyu: don't act like you don't like it Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: I see you rubbing your thighs together over there Sent at 10:08 AM

You felt your face burn up as you realized he could see the effect he had on you. You didn't respond, letting him continue on.

Mingyu: I know you're a bad girl Y/N Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: you liked it when I spanked you Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: bet you'd like it if I touched you here right now Sent at 10:09 AM

You clicked your phone off quickly, setting it down against the desk. Your face was red, and you cleared your throat, trying to focus as the professor finally entered the room.

You kept your gaze locked on the front of the room, but you could still see Mingyu shifting closer to you out of the corner of your eye.

Just as the professor began talking, fingers brushed against your thigh and began toying with the hem of your skirt. You swallowed thickly, cursing yourself for the growing arousal between your legs.

Mingyu turned his head slightly towards you. "Don't react," he whispered. He turned his attention back to the front of the room, but his hand remained on your thigh, now softly squeezing the flesh between his fingers.

You inhaled a shaky breath, nervously glancing around the room. Luckily, you and Mingyu sat at the edge of the back row; the only other people in your row sat further down and to the left of Mingyu. His body and the desk most likely concealed everything that he was doing to you, but you were still fearful of getting caught.

His hand trailed upwards, slipping underneath your skirt. His fingers pressed into your inner thigh and you bit your lip. He stared forward, his face blank, as if nothing was happening.

His hand brushed against your core, and you inhaled sharply. The corner of his lip quirked up at the sound. Then he pressed his fingers against your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

Your thighs squeezed shut around his hand instinctively, and Mingyu tsked quietly before pushing your legs apart again. He began rubbing slow circles through the fabric, your arousal soaking through. Your stomach was twisting into a tighter knot with each moment that passed.

Then Mingyu suddenly slipped his fingers beneath your underwear, pressing into your bare folds. You gasped quietly and quickly grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Stop," you muttered, your voice full of alarm. Mingyu pulled his hand away, and you clenched as you were left with nothing, but you let out a relieved sigh. You were panting quietly, and he glanced at you with worry in his eyes as he wiped his hand on his pants.

You pulled out your phone and quickly texted him.

You: we can't do that here Sent at 10:14 AM

Mingyu: I'm sorry Sent at 10:14 AM

You glanced at him, and he looked back at you. You nodded as if to say "it's okay" and chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated sending your next message.

You: come over tonight Sent at 10:15 AM

Mingyu's tongue darted out to lick his lips and he turned his head towards you. His lips were upturned into a smirk as he gave you an affirming nod.

Time seemed to crawl during the rest of your classes for the day; you were anticipating Wonwoo's response and running over in your mind what you were planning on doing with Mingyu later.

As evening approached, a large hole formed in the pit in your stomach. Wonwoo still had yet to respond, which left a bitter taste in your mouth; you guessed he still wasn't done giving you the silent treatment.

You almost texted Mingyu a few times to tell him not to come over, but each time, you thought about his hand slipping beneath your skirt in class and erased your message.

You were only okay with this because Jisoo was still gone, but also, the thought of inviting a guy over to have sex while your roommate was visiting her dad in the hospital made you feel guilty. And gross. When did you become so desperate for some dick?

It was around 10 PM now, and you were pacing around your room while waiting for Mingyu to show up. You had changed out of your skirt, now wearing shorts and a crewneck instead.

A knock at the door startled you, and then your stomach dropped. You were really doing this again. You twisted the knob with hands that trembled softly and opened the door.

Mingyu stood on the other side, and you quickly observed his appearance as he stepped into the room. He also had changed his clothes from earlier. Now he was wearing sweatpants and a zip-up over a t-shirt that hugged his chest nicely. His hair was a bit messier, too.

"Hi," you exhaled.

Mingyu stood tall over you, making you feel small and nervous. You fidgeted with your hands as you stared up at him.

"Hey," he replied, licking his lips as he scanned your face.

You hesitated. "Um... do you wanna watch a movie or something?" Internally, you cursed yourself for being so stiff and awkward. But Mingyu's lips turned up into a small smirk and he agreed.

A moment later, his body laid next to yours on the bed while you picked out some random movie on Netflix. Once it started, the rapid beating of your heart didn't allow you to pay attention to the laptop screen; it was so intense you were afraid that Mingyu could feel it.

You were also hyperaware of the sensation of his body lying next to yours. The warmth of his body radiated onto you and the soft fabric of his clothing felt like a blanket against your bare skin.

"Are you even paying attention?" He asked suddenly, causing you jump slightly.

You cleared your throat. "Y-yeah."

"You seem so tense," he teased. He placed his hand on your thigh and lightly squeezed. You inhaled shakily, keeping your eyes on the screen. "Is something on your mind?"

"No," you gulped.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N." He said with a hushed voice into your ear. "I know what you invited me here for."

His face was so close that his nose was brushing against the side of your face while he spoke. Your stomach was in a tight knot now, and somehow your heart was beating even faster than before.

"You were so wet when I was touching you today." He continued to tease, lightly biting your ear. The hand that rested on your thigh moved up, his fingers brushing against your clit. "I knew you'd like that. You're dirty, aren't you?"

He pressed his fingers to your clit through your shorts as he asked the question. You whined softly, your hips jerking up at the stimulation. Finally, you turned your head towards him, pressing your lips to his in a rough kiss.

Mingyu bit at your bottom lip while he kissed you, and then pulled away after a moment to glance at the laptop that was still playing the movie. "You're not watching this, right?" He joked before shutting it and placing it on the floor.

He hovered over you now, his body caged between your legs, and went back to kissing you, this time with his tongue slipping past your lips. You moaned against his mouth softly as he pressed his warm body against yours.

He pulled away for a moment, making eye contact with you as he asked: "You sure you wanna do this?" He ran his hand down your side reassuringly as he awaited your reply. "We don't have to." He added before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

The sudden shift in his demeanor left you stunned for a moment; you quickly nodded before you could hesitate. "Yes, Mingyu." The hands that rested on the back of his neck pulled him closer to you, connecting your lips once again.

His hands began to tug the bottom of your shirt up, and the feeling of his fingers brushing against your stomach left small goosebumps across your skin.

Soon, clothes were discarded about the room, leaving you in only your bra and underwear and Mingyu in his sweats. His bare chest pressed against yours as he sucked and nibbled on the skin of your neck. You let out a soft moan, not even caring about the bruises that would later appear.

Mingyu lifted his face from your neck suddenly, mumbling against your cheek with a small smile on his face: "Can I try something with you?"

You stared at him, eyes wide with curiosity, and he grinned. His eyes seemed to flash with something that resembled insecurity before he finally admitted: "I wanna tie your hands."

You felt a gush of arousal between your legs at the thought—the thought of being teased with the inability to touch his skin. You nodded in approval. The corner of his lip twitched up at your receptiveness, and he glanced over his shoulder before grabbing one of your belts off the floor.

He secured it around your wrists before pushing them above your head, and just as he was about to continue leaving kisses across your body, you spoke. "Mingyu?"

His eyes widened as they rapidly scanned your face for signs of discomfort. "Do you not like it? Should I take it off?"

You snickered at how worried he was before asking: "Can you make it tighter?"

Relief flooded over Mingyu, and then he chuckled softly in disbelief. "Anything for you, sweets," he joked while adjusting the restraints around your wrists. You laughed, and the previous anxiety left your body.

Your wrists were bound tighter now, giving Mingyu full control, and his hands squeezed your waist as he placed a kiss on your chest. "I can't believe you," he said. "Acting so innocent when you're really a little whore for me."

His vulgar words shocked you, but you couldn't deny the other effects they had. You whined quietly, desperately raising your hips to meet his. Mingyu pushed your hips back down against the bed, and then one of his hands reached up to grope your chest.

He left wet kisses and bites across your body as he made his way from your neck to your hips, discarding the last of your clothing and leaving you bare beneath him. His jaw dropped a bit as he pulled your underwear down your legs, revealing the arousal that had built up. "So fucking wet," he observed in awe.

He began to kiss and suck on the skin of your inner thighs, avoiding the place where you needed him most. You wanted to reach down and tug at his hair, but the belt around your wrists prevented the action.

You groaned as you tried pushing your body closer to Mingyu's. "Please, Gyu." You begged. Mingyu glanced up at you from between your thighs with a smirk plastered on his face once he saw how desperate you looked.

"Is this what you want?" He asked as he dragged his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. He rubbed your clit in tight circles and your legs twitched in response.

"More," you said in between moans. You were already sweating and red in the face out of desperation; you could feel your hair sticking to your forehead.

Mingyu stopped his movements, but his hand remained pressed to your clit, and it throbbed beneath his touch. "What else do you want?" He teased. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could clearly imagine the cocky, satisfied expression on his face right now. "Tell me," he pleaded.

He suddenly resumed his ministrations, this time at a faster pace, which made your stomach twist. You cried out, unable to form any words. "Come on, Y/N. Use your words."

He brought his hand down to your pussy in a rough slap. The sensation caused your entire body to jolt and you let out a whimper in surprise. Mingyu buried his face in your neck before whispering into your ear: "Beg for it."

Finally, you caved, and you arched your back as you moaned, "Please, Gyu. Please fuck me."

A devilish yet satisfied grin settled across his face as he pulled away from you. "Good girl." He quickly said as his hands found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. You glanced down, seeing the way his cock strained against the fabric. You wanted to reach out and feel him, but all you could do was lie there helplessly as he undressed himself. He lowered his pants further down his hips until he suddenly stopped.

"Do you have condoms?" He questioned, his lips pursing in thought.

You shook your head. "No. Why would I have them?" Realization slowly began to dawn on you. "You didn't for-"

"Fuck," Mingyu groaned while running his palms over his face. "I forgot."

Disappointment settled over you, but the lust you were feeling for him remained. You ran over various thoughts in your mind as you observed his conflicted expression.

Mingyu's arms dropped to his sides. "It's okay," he reassured. "We can do something else." He looked up at you, his previous lust-filled expression returning as he caressed your thighs. "Have you ever sat on anyone's face before?" He suggested.

The thought enticed you—the image of Mingyu between your thighs always made your stomach twist—but ultimately you knew you needed to feel him inside you.

"Just fuck me anyways." You blurted out. Mingyu's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"What?" He cried.

"I'm on the pill," you quickly explained. "You can just... pull out or whatever." Heat rushed to your cheeks; you had become so desperate for him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Deep down, you knew it was a terrible idea, but you were being controlled by lust—the same lust and desire that made you tell him you wanted to kiss him a few nights ago.

Mingyu's lips were still parted in shock as he scanned your face. "Really?" He didn't see a single hint of hesitation on your visage.

"If that's what you want..." he trailed off. You saw a look of desire return to his eyes as he observed your bare body. Finally, he pushed his pants down his hips and leaned over you again.

His forearms rested on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth once again.

He reached down and grabbed hold of his hardened cock, guiding it through the folds of your pussy. Your jaw hung open and a deep moan escaped your throat at the pleasure. "You're gonna be the death of me, I swear." Mingyu mumbled into your ear in response to your moans.

He coated himself in your arousal as he continued to rub his cock against you, his tip nudging your clit and teasing you with the smallest bit of relief. He buried his face in your neck as he finally pushed himself into you.

A loud moan fell from his lips at the feeling. This was so much different from last time. It felt warm and soft and bare. Every sensation felt amplified; the stimulation was so intense.

"Holy shit," you gasped. You felt it too.

Mingyu's hips stuttered as he bottomed out inside you. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned. His words mixed with his hot breath against your throat made your entire body burn up. Mingyu slowly pulled himself out of you, and your back arched as his cock rubbed against your walls before he pushed into you again roughly.

Your chest rose and fell quickly with each short breath you took while Mingyu set his pace of his hips slapping against yours. Your back was still arched, and your hips lifted up uncontrollably to meet his.

"F-fuck," you whined. Your arms tried to spread apart, but they were restricted by the belt again. There was a dull ache in your wrists, but it only added to the pleasurable mix of sensations you were feeling right now.

His hands were squeezing your waist tight, to the point where you thought there might be marks there later. He thrusted into you quickly, desperately trying to reach his high. You opened your eyes to watch his euphoric expression: his head was tilted back, his lips parted, and eyes fluttered shut.

He let out a particularly loud moan and his eyes met yours. A small smile found its way to his lips before his eyes grazed down until they reached your chest. He watched the way your breasts bounced with each movement, and the sight nearly made his eyes roll back into his head.

"You gonna come?" He choked out as he saw the pleasure on your face. You moaned in response, unable to speak. He leaned over you and wrapped his hand around your throat. He stopped for a moment, before roughly pushing into you, his hips slapping against yours.

Finally, he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to thrust into you. The knot in your stomach burned and tightened. You clenched around him, which caused him to choke out a moan.

The pressure in your stomach reached its breaking point. Your body was washed over with a feeling of euphoria as your thighs shook uncontrollably. You could barely hear yourself when you let out a loud cry.

Your moans, the euphoric look on your face, and the feeling of you clenching around him all led to the snap of pleasure in Mingyu's core. He gasped as he struggled to pull himself out of you. "Fuck, I'm coming."

Hot ropes of cum painted across your stomach. Mingyu's chest rose and fell with his pants and moans as he watched the substance cover your body.

"Fuck," he whispered in awe once his orgasm faded away and he admired the mess he left on you.

Just as you were trying to catch your breath and relax your arms, they were stopped by the belt again. "Are you gonna take this off me now?" You asked.

Mingyu chuckled. "I guess so." He finally undid the loop and threw the belt to the floor. You sighed in relief. Mingyu quickly noticed the red marks on your wrists and caressed the irritated skin. "Oh, no. You could've told me it was hurting you." He frowned.

"No, it's fine. I-I liked it." You admitted sheepishly. Luckily, your cheeks were still red from before, so it hid the embarrassed flush of your skin. It was true, though. You never did these types of things before, and you certainly never thought pleasure and pain could go together, but you now that you had experienced it, you were enjoying it all too much.

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, a smile spreading across his lips as he stared at you. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his softly.

After a moment, Mingyu pushed you back slightly. "You, uh, probably don't wanna get that on your bed." He pointed to the cum on your stomach. You glanced down. You had almost forgotten it was there.

"Yeah, you're probably right." You laughed. Mingyu reached over for a tissue to wipe it off. The two of you cleaned up, and soon you were lying next to him on the bed again, with him back in his sweats and you with an oversized shirt on.

You faced each other, but your head was curled up against his chest, listening to the quiet sound of his heart beating beneath his ribs.

"You don't seem sad this time." He said. His chest vibrated beneath you as he spoke. You pulled away to look at him with your brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. All the other times we've done this you just seem sad after. But this time you don't." He noted.

You shrugged. "You seem different too. More cocky, I guess."

Mingyu pushed you playfully. "Shut up," he snickered.

"No, seriously!" You exclaimed with a laugh. "You were so awkward like a week ago and then today you pulled that stupid stunt in class!" You playfully smacked him back in the chest.

"Okay, yeah. You're right." Mingyu smiled, and then he sighed. "I guess I'm just... getting used to this."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, both thinking of the same thing.

Mingyu rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Which I really shouldn't be," he continued. You chewed on your lip as you pondered what to say.

"I'm breaking up with him."

Saying it out loud made realization hit you like a ton of bricks. But you weren't upset anymore. You would miss all those trips to the coffee shop and weekends in bed from over the past two years, but they had already come to an end the moment you packed up and moved away. At this point, he had become someone you used to know—someone you were holding on to when maybe you should have let go a long time ago.

Mingyu was quiet for a moment. "Wow," he finally spoke. "That's probably for the best. You didn't seem happy."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. An awkward silence started to settle, so you cleared your throat and quickly changed subjects. "So, I haven't heard much about this frat you're in."

Mingyu chuckled softly, turning towards you again. "What do you wanna know?" His hands idly reached for yours, fidgeting with and rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

You thought for a second. "Hmm, I guess... who are the other guys besides you, Cheol, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and bathroom guy?"

Mingyu let out a loud laugh. "Oh, God. Bathroom guy is Soonyoung. I swear, he's the smartest yet stupidest person you'll ever meet." He paused, his face contorted in thought. "Then there's Josh..."

You slowly stirred awake, scrunching your face once you realized the light was still on and about to blind you the second you opened your eyes. You peeked open an eye, glancing around your room for the clock. It was almost 4 AM. You sighed, groggily trying to sit up and recollect what you were doing before you fell asleep, but an arm was weighing you down.

You glanced over your shoulder, and were taken back in surprise for a second when you saw Mingyu lying next to you. The two of you must have dozed off at some point without realizing, and now he was pressed up against you from behind with his arm draped over your waist. He was sleeping deeply, with his lips slightly parted and cheeks puffed out.

You peeled his arm off you slowly, careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. You observed yourself in the fluorescent lighting. Thankfully, your hair wasn't too messy, but your makeup was still on and smudged around your eyes. Something about it almost made you feel hungover.

You spent a few minutes cleaning yourself up before staring at your reflection. If it wasn't already awkward enough that you and Mingyu accidentally fell asleep together, now he would see you bare-faced and groggy with sleep when he woke up. Sure, you two had sex a couple times, but somehow sleeping together was a thousand times more intimate.

You tiptoed out of the bathroom, slowly shutting the door so it didn't make any noise. You lay back down in bed stiffly, pressing yourself right against the edge to avoid Mingyu's grasp.

Just as you finished turning off the light and settling back into bed, Mingyu's arm reached forward and rested across your waist again.

"What time is it?" He muttered, his voice raspy with sleep. You jumped at the sudden noise.

"Oh, um, it's 4:02." You answered.

Mingyu pushed himself up onto his forearm and rubbed his eyes. "Like, in the morning?" He asked. You told him yes and his eyes widened. "Woah, sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He yawned.

He fully sat up now, running his hands through his messy hair. He turned to you, just barely able to see you in the dark. "I can go, if you want."

Oh, God. Even though this situation was an awkward mess, there was no way you could make him go home now.

"I'm not kicking you out in the middle of the night. What kind of terrible person do you think I am?" You responded, to which Mingyu laughed under his breath. "It's only a few more hours."

"Okay," Mingyu said as he lay on his back again. He rolled onto his side, his back towards you. You sat in silence before Mingyu added, "Thanks for not kicking me out."

You chuckled quietly, allowing your eyes to flutter shut and waiting for sleep to overtake you again.

The next time you woke up, sunlight shone in your eyes. With your eyes squinted shut, you rolled over, expecting to bump into Mingyu, but were greeted with empty sheets instead.

Your eyes shot open as you felt around the bed and realized that Mingyu was nowhere to be found. You couldn't help feeling disappointed. Even though you were dreading having to face him in the morning, the fact that he left without saying a word stung.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open. "Oh, you're awake," a low voice called. Mingyu stood in the doorway, still shirtless and his hair a little tousled.

You smiled. "I thought you left."

"Nope, still here," he replied. He sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at you. His dark eyes looked like they held a certain warmth in them. "I've never seen someone look so nice after waking up," he said.

Your face burned up instantly. "Stop," you cried sheepishly, burying your face in your hands. You didn't even want to imagine what you looked like right now.

Mingyu grabbed your wrists and pulled them away from your face. "No, really!" He exclaimed while you wrestled back with him. "Your hair isn't even messy and your skin looks so clear," he said in between laughs.

"What are you trying to do, Mingyu?" You cried.

"Just take the compliment and say thanks!" He responded.

You stopped fighting back, letting him hold your wrists while you stared at him with a pout. "Fine," you grumbled. "Thank you."

A satisfied grin settled across his lips, and suddenly you noticed how close he was to you. "You're welcome," he said, his face only a few inches from yours.

You watched as his eyes dragged down to your lips and your breath nearly caught in your throat. He inched forward until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and slow, until he pushed you back against the bed and pinned your wrists by the side of your head. He slipped his tongue past your lips and you moaned quietly against his mouth.

"You know what I said last night about you sitting on my face?" Mingyu pulled away to say, staring down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You felt arousal growing between your legs as you nodded rapidly. Mingyu let go of your wrists to lie on his back instead. Your hands trembled a bit as you reached to pull your underwear down your thighs.

"Your phone keeps going off," Mingyu said.

"Huh?" You didn't even hear it because you were too focused on the knot you felt in your stomach. You recollected yourself and shook your head. "Just ignore it. It's probably Jisoo or something."

"Hurry up," he teased, lightly smacking your thigh. You were straddling his waist.

"I am! I'm just nervous." You replied, trying to ignore the heat that was rushing to your cheeks. "I don't wanna accidentally kill you."

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Oh, shush. I wouldn't wanna die any other way." You hovered above his face, hesitating each time you tried to lower yourself. Finally, Mingyu grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you down. You instantly moaned at the feeling of his warm tongue flicking against your clit.

"H-holy shit," you moaned breathlessly. He held onto your thighs tightly, not allowing you to move. Your legs began to twitch at the stimulation and your hips rocked involuntarily.

Mingyu pulled away, and you thought for a second that he was trying to tease you before he groaned: "Oh, my god. Who keeps calling you?" He shoved his hand under your pillow and pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as he read.

"Who's Wonwoo?"

Your heart dropped right into the pit of your stomach. It felt like someone had punched you in the gut and you were unable to catch your breath.

"Are you kidding?" You cried. Mingyu had never seen your eyes so wide before. He turned the phone around to show you. Sure enough, Wonwoo's name was on the screen.

"Is that your boyfrie-" he started, but you interrupted by jerking the phone out of his hand.

"Don't say anything," you ordered. You hit answer and brought the phone up to your ear with a shaky hand.

"Hey," you said, trying to conceal the quiver in your voice.

"Hey," Wonwoo replied. Hearing his voice again made your throat tighten.

"I'm on campus. Can we please talk?"

[arrowflier]

Breaking Shit (before it breaks you)

Here’s scene 2 for yesterday’s comfort!anon:

"I know it doesn't make fucking sense!" Mickey shouts brokenly, voice garbled by the tears he’s frantically trying to wipe away.  "You think I'm doing this shit on purpose, asshole?"

Ian sighs.  "Course not, Mick.  It's just--," he breaks off, biting his lip and considering.

No one would ever argue that Terry Milkovich had been a good man, and it killed Ian to see his husband waste tears on a father that hated him, beat him, and would happily have seen him dead.  A father that had been the driving force behind the vast majority of the obstacles Mickey had faced alone, and the ones they had faced together.  One of the reasons they had fallen apart so many times, back in the beginning.

But clearly, that isn't what Mickey needs to hear now.

So, pushing his own feelings back, Ian switches tactics.

"Come on," he says, turning around to scrounge through their dresser for one of Mickey's signature vests and an old shirt.

"What are you--" Mickey starts, and is interrupted by Ian tossing the clothes at him.  The shirt lands half on his head, covering the streaks of tears on his face, and he claws it off with a scowl, balling it up in his lap.

"Put it on," Ian urges, "and get your ass out of bed.  “You don't stop wailing soon, everyone's gonna think you're going soft."

"You're soft," Mickey grumbles under his breath.  "And I told you, I can't fuckin' help it."

He does as he was bid, though, tugging off his stained sleep shirt and pulling on the new one after a quick sniff check.  He holds out a hand and Ian throws him the deodorant, and a pair of not-quite-dirty jeans off the floor.

"So what'm I gettin' dressed for?" Mickey asks.

"We're going out," Ian answers.  "Find a distraction."

"Yeah?"  Mickey stands up from the bed, using his discarded clothes to wipe his face clean.  The tears had at least stopped for now.

"How're you plannin' to distract me from my dead fuckin dad?"  Mickey attempts to give suggestive eyebrow wriggle, but with his red eyes, it looks more like he’s going to start crying again.

"You'll see," Ian replies vaguely.  "You'll just have to trust me."

---

“Where the fuck are we?” Mickey asks about thirty minutes later.  They’re standing outside a nondescript, warehouse-like building off a run-down side street, and Ian seemed way too happy about it.

“Just come on,” he commands, shoving Mickey toward the door with a hand low on his back.  “Let’s go inside.  You’re gonna love this, Mick.”  He’s practically vibrating with excitement.

Mickey shakes his head at Ian’s enthusiasm, but goes in.

They’re greeted just inside the door by a large man holding a clipboard.  “Gallagher, party of two,” Ian tells him, and the man nods, checking something off.

“Alright, looks like you’ve got our rage room package,” he says cheerily, setting his papers on a counter to the side and grabbing up a mess of protective gear that he thrust into their arms.  Mickey holds up a plastic face shield and stared at it, then stared at Ian.

The sneaky bastard just grins.

They’re led to a cage-like room in the back of the building, filled with vases, fine china, and old electronics set up on pedestals.  Bats and hammers are lined up against the wall, each one scarred from extensive use.

“Alright,” the man says, “you signed the waiver online, so you’re ready to go.  Gear up, you’ve got thirty minutes before we reset for the next group.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows behind the man’s back as he walks away from them.  “I definitely didn’t sign a fuckin’ waiver,” he points out to Ian, who shrugs innocently.

“Might have involved some mild identity theft,” he offers casually, and Mickey snorts.

“Identity theft?” he questions.  “Thought we were goin’ straight, Gallagher.”

Ian smirks.  “Well, it is Mr. Milkovich, now, isn’t it?  Besides,” he adds with a nod to the room, “this is our version of going straight.  No guns, no stolen goods, just us and a bunch of shit we get to break.”

Mickey’s smile is slow, but wide.  “Yeah?” he says lowly.  “Then lets go break some shit.”

Ian gives an awkward whoop that sends Mickey into a fit of giggles--”You’re such a fuckin’ dork, man”--and beelines for the tools.  He picks up a hammer for himself, then pauses to consider the choices before picking out a solid black baseball bat for Mickey and passing it over.

“Suits you,” he offers by way of an explanation.  “Been wanting to see you swing one since you got kicked out of little league.”

“Sure that’s what you wanna see me swingin’?” Mickey teases, tongue between his teeth as he takes it.  He gives it a few experimental swings, feeling it out.  “Could break a leg real good with this,” he muses, and Ian reaches up to catch his next swing in one large palm.

“Why don’t you go break that TV, instead,” he says dryly, nodding at the big-ticket item in the center of the room.

Mickey shrugs, and goes for it.

He takes a good, solid swing, sending the matte-black bat into the side of the TV with a bang.  The plastic side, dark grey and scratched from years of careless use, cracks and pops off, falling to the floor and exposing the guts of the machine.

Mickey breathes.  In.  Out.  

He stares at the broken television, so similar to the one that had been in his own house growing up.  Not his home, he hadn’t had one of those, but the living room of his father’s house where he had tried so hard to live by another man’s rules.

The TV he had been watching the first time Terry hit him for leaving a girly show on too long.  The TV that he had seen Mandy’s reflection in the first time Terry grabbed her a little too hard in the kitchen, stayed a little too close while he drank his fifth beer,  The TV that had been on in the background while he and Ian made out on the sofa for the first time, the one that was too quiet the next morning to hide the sounds his father made when he found them there, together.

He takes another breath.  In.  Out.

Then he releases an embarrassingly loud war cry and swings again, and again, and again, pummeling the thing until it’s all in pieces on the floor. He thinks he might be screaming--”Fuck you Terry, fuck you, you fuckin’ useless piece of shit, see how you like it you goddamn fuckin’ bastard”--but he isn’t sure.  He hits the largest piece one more time, then kicks at the rest, sending plastic fragments scattering over the concrete floor.

When he looks up, Ian is watching him, and for a moment Mickey is worried.  But he doesn’t look scared, or horrified, or even concerned.  He looks almost...proud.

Mickey is panting.  He waits for Ian to say something, but he never does.  He just smiles, picks up his hammer, and smashes a plate.

“That one looked expensive,” he finally says.  “Like something Frank would try to sell.”  He spits on it.  “Fuck you, Frank,” he says to the shattered ceramic pieces, and Mickey starts smiling too.

They have a go at everything in the room, shouting out insults against their fathers, authority figures, and that one punk at the grocery store last week.  They even take their tools to the pedestals themselves, managing to dent the heavy-duty supports, laughing as they almost fall over when their weapons ricochet.

Mickey knows his face is stained with tears, again, but Ian’s is the same.  He feels a weight lift from him that he hadn’t known was there, and as he braces himself for another crack at the pedestal in the center of the room, he smiles.

---

When the man from earlier comes back, it’s to find them holding each other up in the middle of the room, laughing through tears as they look at the sheer destruction surrounding them.

He wisely doesn’t comment on the state of their faces, or the state of the room.  Instead, he just checks that little clipboard, and asks, “Are we ready to move on to the axe throwing?”

Mickey straightens, though he doesn’t pull out of Ian’s hold.  His eyes are wide, and his teeth flash as he grins.  He glances at Ian, who nods with a smile, and then looks back to their host.  

“Fuck yeah, we are,” he confirms.  “Let’s go throw some shit.”

[cham-chammity]

Drunk Striker (Fanfic Oneshot)

~~~~~~~

Background info (TW: mention of suic!de):

In my AU or whatever you wanna call it, Striker was raised by his dad (Buck) and his aunt (Cassandra). Striker's mother died at childbirth, so Cassie helped her little brother Buck raise Striker. Buck suffered from Depression and a Panic Attack disorder (Striker inherited the panic attack part). Because of this, it lead to Buck commiting suicide about a year and a half prior to Striker joining I.M.P. Striker's parents were only 16/17 when he was born, so partially due to the shorter age gap he was very close with his dad. My oneshot takes place around the two-year anniversary of his dad's death.

~~~~~~~

The taste of hot, straight whiskey burned Striker's throat as his lips met the one of two newly opened bottles of alcohol he purchased. He let out a relieved breath, as the western imp hadn't drank good whiskey since he last left Wrath. He also needed a distraction from the gut-wrenching memories trying to re-surface themselves in his head, memories he knew he'd be sobbing himself to sleep if he didn't force back down.

Taking another swig, Striker plopped down at the kitchen counter and took off his hat. The one dim light above him illuminated a sickly yellow glow, causing the bottle in the imp's hand to look like an old bottle of piss. Striker smiled at the thought, Blitz definitely would say something like that in the current situation. Speaking of his boyfriend, his small smile turned into a frown. Blitz wouldn't be home for awhile since he insisted he go spend the night out with Barbie. She was barely out of rehab; the twins hadn't seen each other in months. But that wasn't the driving reason why he told Blitz to go out for this particular evening. He didn't want Blitz to see him like... this. Striker needed to stay strong for Blitz, he couldn't let his mate see the weak, sad, drunk side of him. Blitz would probably just tell him to man up and push through it. Striker was strong. He can handle these things on his own. He didn't need comfort. Just a few drinks and sleep and he'll be good. Right?

Striker sat there taking in as much of the burning liquid he could handle, like a parched cactus in the dryest possible desert. Blackout drunk wasn't his go-to--nor his favorite--way out of these things. But it did the job. Sure, he knew how unhealthy it was, but at least he wasn't one of those 24/7 drunk-ass rednecks that did it thrice a week.

Striker was barely finished with the first bottle when the sound of familiar footsteps approached the door to their apartment. The door swung open and Blitz loudly barged in (per the usual), catching Striker comepletely off-gaurd.

"Hey babe, I'm back! You will not believe what-- whoah, why is it so goddamn dark in here?" Striker hissed and squinted as Blitz turned on the brighter kitchen lights, adding to the throbbing headache Striker could feel coming.

shit, Striker thought to himself. He isn't supposed to be home for another hour.

"You're back early, though' you'd be out for another hourer.. ssso." Blitz cocked his head in concern as Striker spoke. His accent was thicker than usual. He also doesn't normally do the hissy s thing unless he meant to or was drunk. And judging by the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey along with Striker's distraught appearance, he was definitely drunk.

"Babe, why have you been drinking? Alone? Basically in the dark?"

"Ssssno big reason, juss... ta pleasure mahselfss' all."

Blitz stood in thought for a moment. Striker never drank 'just because'. He always had good reasoning behind it, so something definitely was up. The crimsom imp walked over and sat down next to his mate.

"I came home earlier because I'm worried about you. You've been acting... off the past few days. You've hardly been eating, you're quiet, withdrawn... and I can tell you're tired as well. Now I'm really glad I came home early seeing you're trying to pass yourself out with a bottle of alcoholic-looking piss."

Striker sighed and lazily rested his head on a propped up arm. "Yeah, you're right ah guess," he muttered softly.

"So tell me, what's wrong?"

Striker sucked in a sharp breath at the question. "Iss nothin' ah can't handle on mah own. I'm alrigh'. I'll prolly juss go on n' hit the hay fer t'night."

As Striker stood from his seat, a blotched hand grabbed his arm yanking him back down on the stool he was sitting on.

"No."

"Wut?"

"I said no, Striker. There is clearly something wrong and I need to know what it is. I'm not going to let you shove it under the rug. And you definitely, by the looks of it, can't handle it on your own."

Striker looked at the floor, feeling nothing but shame for his weakened state. "Ah can't let ya see me like this though. Ah need ta be strong fer ya Blitz..."

A hand gently angled Striker's head up as calm, yellow eyes met tired, blown-out ones. "Hey, who was it that said no matter who you are, everyone has something deep under the tip of the iceberg?"

Striker took a moment to think before responding. "Ah did?"

"Yes. Who was it that said no matter what, there is going to be something dark in everyone's past?"

"Ah did."

"And who was it that said they'd help me heal those deep wounds and be there for me and stay with me every step of the way?"

"Ah did."

"You did, Striker! And you still continue to help me. But here's the thing, babe... our relationship here is a two-way street. I'd be quite an ass of a boyfriend if I wasn't here for you as much as you are for me. You are the strongest, bravest imp I know. You've always been strong for me and I know you always will. And just becuase you're vulnerable, doesn't make you weak."

Striker sat in stunned silence for a few long moments, before finally giving in.

"Mah dad. Two years ago t'day. He uh.. he passed." Blitz listened as Striker slowly slurred out the words, the crack in the taller imp's voice ripping a tear through his heart. He'd never seen or heard Striker close to crying before, let alone actually cry at all. "We were..." A long pause. "We were very close." Blitz wrapped his hands in Striker's and gave them a tight squeeze. "Ah misss him sss...sso goddamn much."

And with that, Striker broke. He finally let out the loud, ugly sobs he'd been gulping down the past hour. Blitz embraced him in a tight hug and wrapped their tails together, gently rocking his mate side to side while softly stroking his hair. Striker's shoulders violently shook as he took in harsh gasps and let out heart-wrenching sobs.

Blitz felt tears brimming in his own eyes at the sound of his lover's painful grief, the sharp claws tightly gripping at his shirt causing him to hug his lover tighter.

Neither imps knew how long Striker cried for, but once his sobs calmed down to quiet cries, Blitz helped walk him back to their room. He was pretty tipsy after all.

Blitz helped Striker strip down to his boxers as he did likewise. They both lied down on their bed and Blitz cradled his lover in his arms, placing a soft, gentle kiss on Striker's forehead.

"I love you so much, Striker," he whispered in his ear. "I'm always here for you, as you are for me. Don't ever forget that."

Striker gave Blitz's hand a tight squeez in response. He was too drunk and tired to muster any words, as well as his soft cries blocked any other noises that dared escape his mouth. But the hand squeez was more than enough for Blitz. He held Striker tightly the rest of the night, the taller imp fading in and out of crying spells before eventually entirely passing out.

Blitz refused to fall asleep until all he could hear was the soft breathing from his mate in his arms. As Blitz was finally able to drift to sleep himself, he was thinking up of some hangover breakfast ideas to make for his partner in the morning. Or afternoon, that'd work too. Striker needed the sleep after all.

~~~~~~

I originally post my fanfiction on my Wattpad (@cam-illeon). Hope y'all enjoy!! I might do a Drunk Striker pt. ll

[just-my-fandom]

Rocky Road P8 (JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader)

Part 8

Summary; Reader and JJ make up. After going fishing with Ward, John B reveals the truth suddenly to the reader about their father. The chief is now dead. John B and Sarah run away.

Warning(s); Mentions of death, mentions of getting sick (vomit)

A/N; PLEASE READ. There’s a lot of scenes I really didn’t feel like writing, such as the whole death of the chief, etc. So, I combined episodes 8, 9, and 10 together. So technically, this is the last part. But I will include an epilogue

Taglist; @bibliophilewednesday @sexualparkour @jjpouggues @poguestyle17

“So we’re okay?”

It’s the morning after. You and JJ sit on opposite edges of the hot tub, legs knee deep in the warm water.

“Yeah,” Your lips tilt in a small smile, JJs arms propped on his knees as his hands take your own, “Only if you promise to stop acting psycho,”

“Oh, totally,” JJ nods, releasing one of your hands to run it through his hair, “If me getting super drunk and having a terrible hang over last night doesn’t change me, then I don’t know what will,”

“J,” You warn, JJ huffing a short laugh before he nods, leaning forward so your faces were nearly inches apart,

“I promise,” He murmurs, raising his hand to cup the back of your neck and pull your lips against his, “Because I love you. And I’m not going to let my stupidity make me lose you,”

“Good,” You hum, raising your own hands to his hair, his body leaning forward enough to where he steps into the hot tub, arms wrapping around your waist,

But before he can pull you into the water yourself, Kiaras call to your brother causes you to pull away and look over your shoulder, JJ looking around you to watch as John B stomped across the yard of your home with a stone look on his face,

“John?” You call as Kiara did, sliding off the edge of the hot tub to slide on your flats, watching your twin brother move inside the Chateau, “JB,”

“Uh, what’s that all about?” Pope asks, as you shrug and move up the steps to the front porch, pausing as John B desperately searched for something,

“You all right, man?” Pope questions, “What’s up?”

“What’re you looking for?” Kiara rushes, irritated at the silence your brother gave to the group,

You watch as John B pulls the hand gun from under the couch cushions, “John B, what do you need the gun for?”

“Talk to us-,” JJ demands, and you move forward as soon as John B shoves JJ away, onto the pull out mattress,

“John B, what the fuck are you doing?” You shout, moving after John Bs retreating form to the backyard, “If you’re still mad at JJ from yesterday, we’re fine! We made up!”

“I don’t give a damn about the two of you,” John B grumbles, and you pause to watch him climb on JJs motorbike,

“Dude!” JJ shouts, John B finally turning with an angry snarl,

“Ward knows about the gold!” He shouts, and you huff a breath, heart nearly stopping at his next words, “He killed dad,”

“What?” You whisper, JJ quick to move up to you as John B sped away, JJs hand at your upper arm.

Your eyes leave John Bs retreating figure to look at JJ, hand resting at your stomach as you watched JJs mouth move, but no words were heard,

“Baby,” JJ calls, lifting a hand to caress your face as you swallow, thickly, “Hey, hey. Look at me,”

Quickly, you shake your head, exhaling sharply as Kiara moved up next to JJ, “She’s going to be sick-,” Kiara and Pope watch, alarmed, as you duck behind the parked van, JJs hand running down your back as you cough, violently,

“Hey, alright,” JJ murmurs, pulling you into him as his gaze shifts up to his other friends, watching Pope run a hand over his head and look in the distance where John B had left.

“Okay, I’ve never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops,” Kiara speaks from her spot at the front end of the HMS Pogue, your brows pinched as you look at her,

“And what would we say, Kie? Ward Cameron killed Big John? They’re going to think it’s some- fucking grieving mechanism for me and John B,” You huff, face hot and eyes puffy,

“They’re not gonna believe us if we tell them anything revolving Ward,” JJ states, and Pope raises his goggles,

“Hey, I see Ward,”

“I don’t know if I should be glad he’s alive for John Bs sake or not,” You mutter, tossing a rock that was in the boat into the water,

“Looks alive to me. Let’s go,” Pope orders, and you look up in confusion,

“Wait. What?”

“Obviously Mr. Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn’t now, okay?” Pope shakes his head, “Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours,”

“Yeah, well, our friend is in trouble,” Kiara states, Pope shrugging his shoulders,

“I’m in trouble! Guys, I haven’t been home in three days. My dads probably put all my shit on the street by now,”

“So, you’re just gonna bail?” Kiara asks, and you look at JJ with pinched brows so the blonde moves up, protectively, “This is about friendship, this is about Pogues for life!”

“Where were you when Big John went missing? Huh?” Pope hisses, your eyes watching as Kiara glanced at you, “You weren’t there. You weren’t there for John B, or Y/N,”

“Guys,” You plea, pressing yourself into JJs front, “Kie, just let him go home,”

“No, I want her to remember,” Pope snarls, finger jabbing at Kiara, “Remember your kook year? You forgot about us. Y/N lost her best friend. Her dad goes missing and you werent there for her,”

“Give me a break!” Kiara demands, shoving Popes front so Pope shoved her back, JJ quick to release you and move between his two friends,

“Guys, cut it out!” JJ orders, your arms wrapping around yourself as you blink away the burn in your eyes, “If I’m the one mediating then we’ve hit rock bottom,”

“Let’s just go home,” You murmur, JJ looking at you as you move to the wheel of the boat,

“I’ve got it,” JJ soothes, pointing to the front end of the boat where Pope departed to. “Pope, we’ll drop you off,”

You inhale a deep, slow breath, raising your hand to rub at your eye in exhaustion.

“John B, you have to go,” You stare at your twin brother. Peterkin was dead. John B was framed for her murder. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. To you, and to Sarah, but I can’t let you go to jail, for a murder you didn’t commit,”

“You weren’t an ass,” John B forces himself to chuckle, attempting to pull a smile to your face. He fails. “You were being a protective, annoying sister,”

You huff your own laugh, licking your lips, “I’m serious, John. Get Sarah, and go,”

John Bs movements are swift. His arms slide around you in an embrace, tightening around you when hearing your sniffle.

“I love you sis,” He mutters, “Seriously,”

You lean back, hitting his chest, “I love you too. Dick,”

You step away, watching John B step onto the boat JJ lended to John B. “Remember dude,” JJ steps up, arm sliding across your shoulders, “Brownsville. We’ll see you in Mexico in two months,”

“Got it,” John B smiles, watching you slide your arm behind JJs back and take his hand with your free, “Take care of her, JJ,” JJ glances down at you, “I mean it,”

The boat pulls off with a heave. Your eyes blur, looking up at JJ with a smile that matched his.

“Hands up!”

Twirling around, you barely catch a glimpse of Shoupe raising his gun before JJ pushes you behind him. In unison, the group of four raise their hands, your eyes wide,

“Where the hell is he?” Shoupe asks, roughly, “Where the hell is he?!”

“JJ,” He continues, “I see you’re living up to your name. Pope? How about you? This isn’t a fucking game!” Shoupe eyes shift to yours, “Your father would be really disappointed in you young lady,”

“Dont ever bring up my father,” You step up, one of JJs arms dropping to grasp your waist, but immediately pulls it back when Shoupe pins your hands behind your back.

“Let’s fucking go,”

“Sit down. Don’t move,” You look up from your spot inside the tent. Cops, everywhere. You felt sick again.

JJs hand takes yours, squeezing enough to guide your attention to him, where his blue eyes meet your own. JJ shifts your intertwined hands to his lap, thumb brushing across the back of your hand.

You flinch at the rough crack of thunder.

“We lost them,” Shoupe mutters, almost as soon as your ears began to ring. Like the day prior, you see everyone’s mouths moving, but no words.

Except JJ. “What do you mean you lost them?” JJs hand leaves yours as he stands, and you suddenly zone back in, “You had them on radio!”

“The storm cut out their signal,” Shoupe sighs, dropping the talkie in his hand. His head shakes, “We lost them,”

JJ is first to turn to you. Just as quick, your ears begin to ring, not hearing him call out to you. Lost them. Lost, as in, dead? Like Big John?

“Baby,” JJ tries, again, the large group watching as he knelt in front of where you still sat and raised his hands to your face, “Hey, can you hear me?”

JJ is forced to watch as you gasp in a deep breath. With a shattered sob, you nearly fall forward, JJs arms quick to catch you and pull you up into his arms.

“He didn’t do it,” You heave, eyes wide despite the tears that blocked your vision, “He didn’t- didn’t kill anyone,”

JJs arms tighten around you, before he slides his hands back to your face a second time, thumbs attempting to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Forehead against yours, he exhales a shuddered breath as you began to break down.

“Sweetheart-,” Kiaras mom barely leans away from Kiara to extend her hand to you, your head shaking as your eyes finally pinch shut in defeat,

“No,” You whisper, JJs own face crumbling, “No, no. JJ-?”

JJs arms slide around your shoulders, ducking his nose into your hair as your own grab at his button up, feeling Kiaras mom press herself behind you in another wall of comfort.

First Big John. Now, John B and Sarah?

A/N; Well that ended like shit, lol. Again, yes. I did skip a lot of scenes revolving the last three episodes. But honestly? They were unnecessary. But leave ALL feedback as you can, and I hope, pray that you enjoyed this story. It’s been a pleasure.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Shitty Birthdays and Little Stars | Jason Todd

✦ pairing — Jason Todd x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.9k

✦ summary — a stranger makes your shitty birthday better – maybe even more than just your birthday.

✦ request — Can I have a smutty prompt 11 with Jason Todd, please?

✶ S11 - “If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”

✦ warnings — angst, mentions and usage of alcohol, language, reader has a vagina, mild smut, fluff.

════════════════════════

Sean, the bartender’s shadow loomed over you as he stood in front of you. Sniffing, you looked up at his still frame.

“It’s too early to close my tab,” you reminded him defensively, “I just got here.”

Chuckling, he shook his head and placed a glass identical to the half-empty one in your hands.

“What’s that?”

He lifted his eyebrows, deviating his gaze to your left. Your eyes fell on a dark-haired man, a little mysterious looking, clearly stupidly tall, deep pretty eyes and all...

Why did he have to appear today precisely?

“Shit, he’s hot.”

“Go,” Sean encouraged you.

“No!” you said between your teeth, eyes still on the handsome stranger. “I’ve been crying the entire day.”

“Oh, I know. Everybody can tell, even him, yet he sent that drink.”

Your head snapped to where the bartender was standing. You glared. “Sean, do you even know wh—“

A gruff voice next to you interrupted you. “Can I sit?”

The effect that voice had on you must’ve been clear on your face because Sean snorted and walked away.

You nodded your head. “Of course.”

“I’m Jason,” he introduced himself as he sat down next to you, twisting on the stool to face you.

You gave him your name and immediately felt the need to explain yourself under his gaze. “I’m flattered,” you assured him. “But I’m in a shitty mood and I wouldn’t want to ruin your evening.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s go with a ghost from the past.”

“Metaphorical, I hope.”

You tilted your head. “So you believe in ghosts? Like actual ghosts?”

Jason considered the question for a few seconds. “Can’t say I do, can’t say they absolutely don’t exist.”

You hummed. “It’s just been a shitty day.”

“We all have those. Some have shitty years even.”

“You know Sean, right?” You nodded your head upward in direction toward the other end of the bar. Jason nodded. “Well, today is my birthday and the only person who remembered was him.”

“Happy birthday.”

You could tell that he meant it which wasn’t making things better. Or easier. “Thanks.”

“So a shitty birthday brought you to a bar?”

“Yeah. Long story short.”

“I have time.”

“You really want me to ruin your evening, don’t you?”

He shrugged, almost sheepishly. “Got somebody else’s evening to ruin?”

Finishing the half-empty drink, you sighed. “My two best friends live in another state and they were supposed to be here yesterday but they’re too busy which I completely understand. And my dad is out of town visiting my half-sister whom I hate — that one I don’t understand so much, but I guess she’s his daughter too.” You grimaced as the words left your mouth. “You wanna hear the worst part?”

“I’m all ears.”

“I was in the parking lot of the supermarket, trying not to cry because apart from the shitty birthday thing, I fucking hate doing groceries on the weekend.” You moved your hands as you spoke. “Somebody taps on my window and it’s my asshole ex-boyfriend. I roll the window down, and what’s the first thing he does?”

Jason tapped on the bar as he guessed, “He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Yes! It’s fucking infuriating! And now I’m here like a damn idiot telling you all about it when your intentions were clearly different.”

“It’s okay,” he tried to assure you, softly.

“No, it’s not! I should be getting laid right now, not telling you about this.”

He couldn’t help but smile, a little nervously. “I— I mean, that can still happen...”

“Yeah?” your voice dropped. You were nervous, too.

He leaned in, eyes on your mouth as he tilted his head. Jason licked his lips before answering. “Yeah.”

You let out a shaky breath and then wished you hadn’t opened your mouth as you sniffed again. “I should wash my face first...”

He bit down his bottom lip. “Take your time.”

You giddily walked into the bathroom, and as quickly as you had walked in you did out. For whatever reason, Jason waited for you.

He even smiled as you walked back toward him, finishing his tall glass just as you stood in front of him.

“I’m sure you were trying to be all smooth and I ruined it.”

“I was about to thank you. I’m a little sleep-deprived and thankfully you skipped the small talk.“

You giggled, resting your hands on his cheeks. “You’re a breath of fresh air.”

He placed his hand on the back of your head, softly smiling at you. “Likewise. Uh... may I kiss you now?”

You caressed his cheeks, tracing his facial structure. “Yeah, sorry.”

Instead of repeating that it was okay, Jason closed the gap between your mouths. You felt as though you were melting as his lips tentatively caressed yours.

His kiss tasted sweet with a lingering acidic tone. You weren’t sure as to what he had been drinking, but the taste only made you kiss him harder.

His free arm circled your middle as he opened his legs to bring you closer. Standing between his legs, you slid a hand to the back of his head and nipped on his bottom lip.

As your lips molded together and the two of you grew more comfortable, you let him pry your mouth open.

Soon, he was slamming you against his bedroom wall, devouring your lips as his hands wandered up and down your sides.

He made you whine as his grip on you tightened which only prompted him to kiss you harder and in response, you moaned.

On your lips, he panted, “If you keep making those sounds I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

You almost tripped with your own jacket as he walked you towards the bed. Jason picked the item and threw it to the other side of the room where his own had landed earlier.

Hovering over you, he went directly to kiss your neck. You didn’t know how he did it, but he found the perfect spot in seconds, making you whimper.

He hummed, pleased to know you were enjoying yourself. His fingers traced the space between your waist and hip, waiting for your permission to slide your t-shirt up.

You really wished you were wearing a matching pair of underwear and not a sports bra and a pair of white panties with colorful stars.

Knowing it was unavoidable, you placed your hands on his chest so he would kneel on the bed. He allowed you to sit up, watching you as you gripped the ends of your t-shirt and took it off.

He left a trail of kisses down your stomach, hands tracing your thighs. Tugging on a loop of your jeans, he asked for permission to take them off which you granted him.

As the button popped open and the zipper was lowered, you waited for a comment about your underwear that never came.

He made you lift your hips so he could discard the denim, eyes lingering on your crotch.

“Don’t laugh.”

Clearly amused, he said, “The little stars are cute.” Impatient, he pulled your panties down, dragging them down your legs and dropping them onto the floor.

You didn’t expect him to bury his face between your legs, hands drawing patterns over your hips and thighs as he feasted on you.

Panting as you recovered your breath, you followed his now naked form as he laid on the bed just next to you. After getting rid of your sports bra, you crawled towards him. His eyes mapped your every moment, and he licked his lips. With a ragged breath, he brought you over him.

Groping the back of your thighs, Jason searched for your mouth. His tongue shoved past your now bruised lips, pressing against yours.

Whimpering on his mouth as you felt his girth against your slit, you intentionally rolled your hips against his.

He stretched his arm and reached for a condom. You kneeled between his legs, watching his movements as he rolled the condom down his cock.

Gripping your waist, he pulled you onto his lap again. “Ride me,” he breathed out.

════════════════════════

The wail of your cellphone startled you awake. You were so comfortable that you let it ring, but whoever wanted to reach you insisted.

Grabbing for the phone, you sleepily hummed as you answered.

“Where are you?”

Your eyes widened as you heard your dad’s voice. Leaving the bed as silently as possible, you held the phone to your ear between your neck and your cheek while you slid your panties on.

“One second,” you whispered into the phone and placed it onto the bed in order to throw your t-shirt on.

Snatching the device, you slowly opened the door and walked toward Jason’s living room. “I’m not at my place right now,” you rasped.

“Oh, I know,” your dad mocked you. “I waited outside for half an hour.”

“I didn’t know you would be back so soon,” you defended yourself. Tilting your head, you made sure that Jason was still asleep. “Are you still there?”

Your dad snorted. “Of course not.” He then repeated his question, “Where are you?”

You saw Jason stir awake, rubbing an eye with his fist. As he turned to the side and observed the empty bed, you breathed in shakily. “With a friend.”

Your dad’s grunt was enough for you to understand that he didn’t believe you. He didn’t press on the subject anymore, though, he never did. “Let’s get dinner. It’s on me.”

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good. Where?”

Jason approached you just as your dad gave you the specifics. He watched you with curiosity, both hands in his hair as he fixed his bed hair.

The line clicked on the other end and you immediately acknowledged Jason. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Are—“ He cleared his throat. “Are you leaving already?”

You fiddled with your phone as it laid between your hands. “Should I?”

Jason quickly answered, “No! I just thought...” He shook his head. “It’s stupid.”

“You can tell me.”

“I thought you had left without saying goodbye.”

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t even sure if you would’ve said goodbye had he not waken up. There was something in his eyes that almost made you feel guilty, but you weren’t able to decipher what it was because he spoke again.

“Well, that and I, uh, last night I thought that this would be, uh, more than... you know, a one-time thing.” Seeing your surprised semblance, Jason cursed, “Fuck. I made it awkward, didn’t I?”

“No, no!” Putting your cellphone down onto the coffee table, you stepped closer to him. “Please, Jason, don’t worry. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

He gazed at you, waiting for a clear answer.

This was crazy, and it excited you after so many months in which you tried to find someone willing to at least try to stay.

“You made it better.” You slanted your head. “Easier.”

Hesitantly, he opened his arms. Surely, you snaked your arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms over your hips.

The two of you allowed silence to settle between you, to turn comfortable. And then made peace with it, you made peace with Jason’s breath and he made peace with your mindless swaying.

He traced the edge of your panties, huffing a laugh when you bashfully shook your head. “They’re still cute, I promise.”

“You sure are something.”

“A good something, I hope?”

Afraid of ruining the moment with your morning breath, you opted for kissing his cheek. His lips could wait. “An amazing something, I would say.”

[hxwks-gf]

*✧･ﾟ:* two little lines

bakugo x fem!reader

summary: surprise! you’re pregnant. wait, that’s not the only surprise...

warnings: pregnancy, descriptions of throwing up, swearing, mentions of alcohol

w/c: 2k 

request: I just read your Bakugou gets turned into a kid fic and it was so adorable, especially since he done well knew what he was doing( the brat lol) Anyhow I wanted to request either Bakugou( pro hero of course) reacting to the news that he and his female S/O are having either twins or triplets.

a/n: THANK U FOR SENDING THIS REQUEST IN, ANON!! i loved writing it so much, and soft bakugo is my fav bakugo. enjoy my loves!

“Katsuki, I really don’t feel well,” you said as you came out of the bathroom, wiping the sweat off of your forehead. 

Your husband looked up from the piece of his gear he was tinkering with. “What do you mean?” 

“I’ve felt really sick to my stomach for a day or two now,” you explained, sitting at the edge of the bed and closing your eyes. You could feel another wave of nausea coming over you at full speed. “Oh, God--” You clapped a hand over your mouth and ran straight to the toilet again, making it just in time before you violently puked the last remains of your breakfast into the porcelain. 

“Y/N?” he called from the bedroom. A few seconds later and you heard his bare footsteps on the tile floor. His warm hand placed itself on your forehead and pushed back your sweaty hair. “Hey, let’s get you to the doctor, alright?” 

“No,” you moaned into the bowl, “I don’t want to go to the doctor yet, it’s just the stomach flu or something. I just need to rest.” 

“Don’t be stubborn,” Bakugo growled, squatting beside you. He wrinkled his nose at the contents of the toilet. “Let’s go.” 

“I’ll make an appointment tomorrow,” you said, cracking open your teary eyes at him. He had that hard-set look on his face, the don’t-even-try-to-argue-with-me one. You had seen it enough over the last few years of your marriage. “Can you just take me to the store so I can get some medicine?” 

“Tch,” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you out of this apartment in this state.” 

“Katsuki.” 

He tipped his head back and let loose an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.” 

You held out a hand and he helped you to your feet. He muttered incoherently while you got dressed, something along the lines of “--doesn’t know how to rest--” and “--never listens to me--”. After you were dressed, he at least made you drink some water before driving you to the nearby corner store. 

The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes as you perused the aisles with a basket in hand, mindlessly putting cans of soup, stomach medicine, and orange juice into it. Bakugo grumbled to himself a few feet behind you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. 

“I’ll be right back,” he grunted, and disappeared down the snack aisle, leaving you by yourself near the pharmacy. 

As you wandered down the rows and rows of medicine, looking for anything else you might need for the stomach flu, you saw something on display near the counter that made you stop and stare. 

“There’s no way,” you murmured, walking up to them and picking one up. You flipped the thin box in your hand and scanned the back for more information. When was the last time you had your period? On a hunch, you dropped the box into your basket and hurried towards the check-out before Bakugo caught up with you again. 

The cashier rang you up and bagged your items, and you felt another wave of nausea starting to build in the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, Bakugo rounded the corner empty-handed, and headed straight for you. 

“Got everything you need?” he said, guiding you out of the store. 

“Mhmm,” you absentmindedly hummed, trying not to think about the little box at the bottom of your bag. 

The drive back to the apartment was silent, as was the walk up. Bakugo offered to take your bags but you vehemently denied his help, giving him a string of excuses and making a beeline for the bathroom again. 

You locked the door and leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were in a seated position with your knees brought up to your chest. You were scared. The plastic bag was staring at you on the floor, just waiting to be opened. With a trembling sigh, you pulled out the little thin box and opened the pregnancy test. 

Two lines. That meant pregnant, right? 

You couldn’t tell how long you spent staring at the little stick in your hands, or how many times you had read and re-read the little instruction booklet. 

Two lines. 

Pregnant. 

You licked your lips in anticipation and unlocked the bathroom door. You could hear Bakugo tinkering with his hero gear in the bedroom again. 

“You were in there for a while, are you okay--” His sentence was cut short when he looked up at you standing in the doorway, holding the stick in your hands. “What’s wrong?” 

“Katsuki, I’m pregnant.” 

The screwdriver he held in his hands fell out of his grasp and clattered to the floor. Within seconds he was getting up from the bed and gathering you in his arms, his chin tucking itself in the crook of your neck. 

“K-Katsuki?” you said, utterly surprised. 

“Are you being serious?” he said, voice muffled in your shoulder. 

“Of course I’m being serious.” You gently pulled out of his embrace, but he still kept you close. “Look. Two lines.” 

He looked down at the test in your hand. His own fingers reached up and wrapped themselves around it, his brows coming together in the center of his forehead. He stared at it so intensely without saying a word, you were concerned he had lost some screws. 

“Katsuki?” you said again, gently. “What...what are you feeling?” 

“I know I've never been good with talking about my emotions,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion. “But this--this makes me feel like the happiest fucker in the entire world.” 

With those words, the gate that held your own emotions in check completely shattered and you fell into a mess of happy sobs, excited laughs, and exhilarated kisses. You’re not sure when it happened, but the two of you ended up kneeling together on the floor, still holding onto the test like your lives depended on it, crying and laughing and kissing. The only other time you had ever seen Bakugo cry was the first time he saw you walk down the aisle at your wedding. 

“I can’t believe it,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “I really can’t.” 

“Pregnant,” you breathed, still in awe. “We’re going to have a baby.” 

“Listen to me.” Bakugo let go of your hands and cradled your cheeks, looking directly into your eyes. “I love you. You are not going to lift a finger for the next nine months, do you understand me, woman?” 

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.” 

“Doctor’s office. Tomorrow morning.” 

“Well, it sounds like you’re about six weeks along,” the obstetrician explained, pulling on a pair of clean gloves. “Let’s get the ultrasound going so you guys can hear the heartbeat.” 

You squeezed Bakugo’s hand excitedly. He sat beside you, watching the doctor’s every single movement like a hawk. She had you lean back and lift up your shirt to expose the little baby bump that was already starting to show. 

“Alright,” she said, pushing the scanner over your lubricated belly and watching the fuzzy screen intently. You had no idea what she was looking at, it just looked like big blotches of black and white moving around. “Oh--there we are!” 

This time, it was Bakugo that squeezed your hand with excitement. You looked over at him, seeing how focused he was on the little screen. 

“Oh, what have we here?” 

You whipped your head back to the doctor. “What is it? Is something wrong?” 

“Looks like you’ve got two buns in your oven,” the obstetrician said, pointing to the screen. “See that? Two heartbeats.” 

“T-twins?” you gasped, feeling Bakugo’s hand go limp in your grasp. “We’re having twins?” 

“Congrats, Mom and Dad,” she said with a grin, clicking off the scanner and cleaning the jelly off of your stomach. “Twins are much more common than you think.” She stood up and stripped off her gloves. “I’ll be right back with some paperwork for the pharmacy and give you two a moment in private.” 

As the door closed behind her, you looked at Bakugo. He was still staring at the little ultrasound still visible on the screen, his mouth slack and his eyes wide. 

“Honey?” you said, tilting your head. “Did you hear what she said?” 

“Twins,” he whispered in awe. 

Your face broke into a smile and you pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Twins.” 

“So, what’s the special occasion?” Kirishima asked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. 

“Get your feet off of there,” Bakugo snapped, swatting his friend’s feet. “Christ.” 

You chuckled, handing Kaminari and Sero each a beer. “It’s something we’ve been waiting to share with you guys for a couple weeks now.” 

“Are you not going to have a drink with us, Y/N?” Mina asked from the couch, holding up her glass of wine. 

Bakugo moved to stand beside you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. It was rare for him to be this affectionate in front of the rest of the group, but you knew he was too excited. They all looked at the two of you with confused and concerned expressions on their faces, waiting for whatever piece of news you had to share. 

Mina was quick. “Holy shit, you’re joking!” she squealed before you could say anything, kicking her feet excitedly. 

“What are you talking about?” Kirishima said, looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “Joking about what--” You could literally see the lightbulb turn on above his head. “Oh, oh! Oh my God, guys! Are you serious?” 

“Yep,” you laughed, patting your belly. Bakugo pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear. 

“Wait, wait,” Kaminari said, holding up his hands. “I’m lost. What’s going on?” 

“C’mon, dude,” Bakugo growled. 

Sero’s eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of his skull. “Congratulations, you two! I was wondering when it was going to happen. I almost had a bet going for it.” 

“A bet for what?” Kaminari whined. 

“Denki,” you said, giving your stomach another exaggerated pat. 

“Stomach?” 

“Yes,” you encouraged, nodding your head slowly. “And…? 

“And...oh, holy shit!” 

“There he goes,” Kirishima laughed, patting his friend on the back. He looked back to you and Bakugo with a grin on his face. “That’s amazing. How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?” 

“Well,” you started, smiling at Bakugo over your shoulder. “That’s not all of it, exactly.” 

Now they were back in the dark again, Mina included. You took a deep breath and felt Bakugo’s arms tighten around you. “We’re having twins.” 

“Twins!” Mina screeched, jumping up out of her seat and clobbering you in an excited hug. 

“Hey, hey, easy,” Bakugo warned, hostility lacing his words. “Be careful with the mother of my children, alright?” 

A surge of warmth spread through you, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Mother of his children. It had a very nice ring to it, and hearing it from his lips only made it that much sweeter. You reached around and tenderly kissed his cheek. 

“Whatever you guys need, please let us know,” Kirishima said as he stood up and clapped a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “I mean it. Whatever you need. We’re all here for you.” 

“Thank you, guys,” you said, unable to hide the crack in your voice as a lump formed in your throat. Tears came not a second later. “I’m sorry, everything makes me cry nowadays.” 

“I don’t envy you there, Bakugo,” Kaminari said with a grin. “But I second what Kirishima said.” 

The rest of the evening was spent talking about possible baby names, planning the eventual baby shower, and anything else under the sun that had to do with babies. As you sat on the couch, nestled into Bakugo’s side and casually running a hand over your growing belly, surrounded by friends and loved ones, you knew that no matter what happened, you and Bakugo would be alright. 

You had to admite, the idea of having two little miniature Katsukis running around delighted you in a way that would most definitely frighten anyone else. 

[lvstcd]

sober ↝ jj maybank x reader

request: how about a jj x reader where she doesn’t do drugs and tells jj off, but then they come to the house and she’s there and her eyes are red, they point it out and she blames it on allergies but jj says something like “no i recognise the blood shot eyes�� and realise that she’s taken drugs/smoked ( @bibrokenbestfriend )

summary: you have recently been getting into taking hard drugs and the pogues find you and realize what’s going on. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs (cocaine), angst, screaming/yelling, 

gif creds to @toesure

you stumble back to the boneyard after meeting up with your drug dealer and act as if nothing happened and you just went to the bathroom at the chateau. you take a sip of your beer and sit at the fire with the rest of the pogues, chiming in on there conversation. “where’d ya go?” kie asks as she glances at you, causing the conversation to pause for a split second. 

“i had to pee.” you state before taking another sip of your beer. kie nods and continues on with the conversation as you zone out and watch all the fucked up teens around you. “im bored, let’s play never have i ever drinking edition.” sarah grins at everyone while she sits on john b’s lap, “i’ll go first.” she slurs and holds her hands out. 

“never have i ever had sex in a church.” sarah smirks and glances at john b with a giggle leaving her lips. the two take a sip of beer while kie fake gags. “i’ll go.” pope says, holding his cup out, “never have i ever done hard drugs.” no one takes a sip of their beers. you act like you aren’t paying attention and take a sip. everyone watches as you turn back to the group confused. 

“what?” you blurt trying to play dumb. “did you not hear popes question?” kie asks you, glancing between all of the pogues. “no, i zoned out.” you lie, taking another sip of your beer. jj furrows his eyebrows together, “you were watching pope as he said it..” he quietly points out as concern washes over his face. 

“well i didn’t hear it, alright?” you sass and glance back around at the party as your hands start to shake from the anxiety. “you know you can tell us anything, right?” jj asks you as he places his hand softly on your shoulder. you glare at the boy and shove his hand off of you before you stand up. “i don’t do fucking drugs, jj. stop digging around for something when there is literally nothing. now if you would excuse me, i need a refill.” you scoff as you stomp off to the keg and leave your friends behind to give each other weird looks.

trigger warning: cocaine

you decided to leave the kegger extremely early. you head towards your empty house since your mother was working a night shift. you shove the key in the lock and turn before walking in and tossing your bag on the couch. you slam the door shut and grip your hair with your hands as you pace the floor. 

thoughts about the questioning looks from your best friends rush through your head as your heart beat starts to pick up. you try to blink away the tears before you storm towards your bag and search for the baggie of white powder. you catch a glimpse of the bag and yank it out of the bag along with your credit card. you climb over to the glass coffee table and sit criss-crossed before opening the bag and dumping some of the powder onto the table. 

after you make a couple thin lines, you dig around looking for your rolled up dollar. “fuck.” you exhale when you realize you gave the dollar to your dealer as it was included in your payment. you lean forward and bring your right nostril to the table as you press the other one closed. you close your mouth and eyes and inhale, the buzz instantly hitting as the thoughts of how you were growing an addiction faded. 

you finish the other couple of lines and put your stuff back in your bag before sitting on the couch. you grab the remote and turn the tv on as you stare at it, not moving a muscle. you sit like that for about 20 minutes until you hear your front door open and your four best friends rush inside your house, fear on their faces. 

“what the fuck?” you mumble as you glace up at your friends, resisting to rub your tingling nose. “you literally disappeared, y/n, what do you mean ‘what the fuck?’“ kie states as she throws her hands around. your eyes skim along your friends. jj watches you carefully as he notices that your eyes are bloodshot and your nose is running and red. “what happened to you?” sarah asks as she notices the same thing, stepping over to you. you shrug and wipe your nose, a little bit of blood smearing on your arm, “allergies.” you lie and watch jj stare at you and shake his head. 

he takes a couple steps closer to you to get a better look. in his eyes, he sees every answer to what you’ve previously done. his father looked the same way. every fucking time. “sunshine...” jj croaks out as he kneels down in front of you. you tilt your head at him and furrow your eyebrows together. “why?” he whispers as he blinks back the tears that are welling up in his eyes. 

“why what?” you play dumb and let out an airy chuckle. everyone watches you intently, confused on what sarah and jj see. jj looks away and slightly scoffs, hurt evident in all of his facial features. “don’t play dumb, y/n. i recognize the bloodshot eyes.” jj mutters sternly before standing up. 

“it’s allergies, jj-” you quickly start but jj cuts you off, causing you to flinch, “i’m not fucking dumb, y/n! i see the effects of coke all the fucking time.” everyone around you gasps. “you look like how rafe did when he was using...” sarah whispers as the buzz she had moments before is gone. “guys...” you start as you start to stand up yet jj cuts you off again, “you did hear what pope said!” you freeze and slowly drop your hands as you stare at the angry blonde boy in front of you, “you fucking heard him. you drank on purpose. yet you acted like we were fucking stupid when we asked you about it.” 

you drop your innocent act and stare at the floor as you avoid your friends stares. “why the fuck do you care, jj?” you blurt and lift your head back up. jj squints his eyes at you, “why the fuck do i care?” he asks you, causing you to nod your head. “because you’re my bestfriend, y/n, what the fuck do you mean why do i care? you literally mean the world to me and i don’t know what would i do if i lost you. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i let you do drugs and kill yourself, sunshine. i wouldn’t.” jj rambles as he throws his hands around. everyone is silent, still trying to process the scene at hand. 

you get closer to jj, “you don’t fucking own me!” you shout at him as anger pulses through you, “you have no fucking control of what i do!” jj shakes his head and starts throwing shit around as he searches for the baggie. “what the fuck are you doing?” you screech as he tears your living room apart. “where the fuck is it, y/n?” jj asks lowly as he still searches. “where is what-” he cuts you off, “the fucking baggie, y/n!” he shouts at you. you glance at the only thing untouched, your bag. pope notices and quickly grabs it and hands it to jj, a look of pity and remorse flashing through the chocolate boy’s features. 

jj unzips your bag and sees the baggie filled with white powder. you go to snatch it out of the blue eye’d boys fingers, failing as jj pulls his arm back so you can’t reach. “fuck you, jj!” you scream at him as the tears run down your face. “fuck me?! for what? caring about you?” he asks just as loud as you drop back on the couch as you struggle to breathe. “why are you doing this?” you sob out, pressing your hands firmly on your chest as your heartbeat quickens. 

“because i don’t want you to end up like rafe and my dad, y/n!” he yells out with tears streaming down his cheeks. you release a heavy sob and squeeze your eyes shut. kie rushes over to you and pulls you into her embrace as she rubs your back with her head. sarah sits on the other side of you and joins the small group hug. “we’re gonna get you help, okay?” sarah asks you as she rubs her thumb on your fore arm. you slowly nod your head and continue to let the tears fall. 

jj slowly walks over to you and kneels down in front of you. kie and sarah release you and let you fall into jj’s arms as the tears don’t stop. “i’m so sorry, jay...” you cry out, pressing your face in jj’s neck as he places small kisses on your shoulder blade after every few seconds. “i’m so fucking sorry.” 

taglist: @jjsredhat @livinglikepogues @jjsbxtch @jellyfishbeansontoast @ethereallust @jj-bxby @baby-pogue @bruhjustdont