Haven't had many ideas for Toxic!JJ, even though he's one of my favs, but here we go anyways, enjoy :D
Its been sitting in my drafts, waiting to be finished.. 😐😐😐
Warnings: hitting, kicking, acting like children, falling off a bed.. etc.
It was early morning; you were lying in bed, wrapped up in the sheets of your bed, hiding your body from last nights.. activities. You were half asleep-half awake.
JJ was sitting up against the headboard, his toned chest shining in the morning light: a cigarette hanging from his lips, he was wide awake.
He would cast a glance to you, every time you made a slight movement, before going back to his phone. He exhaled the smoke from his cigarette, before letting out a sigh and throwing his phone on the bedside table, causing it to clatter.
"What's wrong, baby?" You mumble against your pillow, your stubbornness not allowing you to open your eyes or make any movement that could ruin your comfortable position.
"I'm bored." He practically whined, like a child. He stumped out his cigarette, before leaning over you and smacking your shoulder a few times. "Can't you wake up faster?" He continued, before hitting your back this time, only slightly harder.
"Ow! Damnit, JJ!" You yell, lifting your head to look up at him, annoyed and pissed off. Not only had he hit you multiple time, but he'd made you wake up fully and move from your very comfortable position.
That's when his stupid, sexy smirk appeared on his lips - almost instantly. He knew exactly what he was doing; he knew how annoyed you were getting and it only spurred him on further.
"You fucking hit me, you asshole!" You say, annoyance clearly laced in your tone. That's when you reach over and hit his chest back. However, it still wasn't enough for you to call it 'fair'.
JJ winces in mock-pain, dramatically gasping for air. "Ow! I can't breathe." He overreacts, placing a hand over his chest, where you'd hit him. "My own girlfriend!"
After a while, he stops the acting - mainly after seeing the look on your face, telling him you were definitely not amused. He lets out a low chuckle, before teasingly reaching over and poking your cheek with his finger. A sly smirk was on his face, "You're mad."
You roll your eyes, hating how he was purposefully trying to wind you up. You knew why; he thought you looked hot when you were mad, which is why he always tried to wind you up. "Not mad, pissed." You correct, before you kick him in the leg, hard.
But before he can even react, you kick him again, pushing him off your bed and fall onto the floor with a loud thump.
"Ow! What the fuck, princess?!"
He exclaims, as he lands on the floor, shaking the room slightly. He looks back at you, with surprised eyes, he definitely did not expect that from you.
A few seconds pass, before he's back up on his feet, wearing only his boxers, and glaring at you. "Really?" He asks as he rubs his leg, "You just had to kick me?"
You smirk up at him, clearly in a better mood now you'd officially gotten him back, by kicking him off the bed. You sit up on your knees, the covers still wrapped around you, as you poke his cheek with your finger. "You're mad." You repeat the words he'd said to you.
JJ swats his hand away from his face, keeping his eyes locked on yours. His anger was clear on his face, which made your victory even more sweeter. He steps closer to the bed, "Yeah, well, who's not gonna be smirking when they get thrown on the floor, onto their ass?"
That made you sit up straight, the covers falling down to leave you in his t-shirt. "You wouldn't dare." You say, even though you knew he would.
He smirks, raising a brow at you. "You sure about that, babygirl?" He sarcastically asks.
He stands by the bed, for a few more moments, his eyes locked on yours, before he suddenly jumps onto it. He climbs on top of you, whilst you squeal in surprise. He hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head, as he stares down at you, with a smirk on his lips.
You do your best to push him off, playfully, while laughing the full time. "Stop it, get off me, JJ!" But of course he doesn't, too busy laughing as he watches your reaction. He struggles slightly to keep you pinned down, as he laughs himself.
You laugh as you look up at him. You move a few strands of his blonde hair, from his eyes, as it falls in his face. JJ soon stops laughing and looks down at you, smiling as you move the hair from his eyes.
These were the moments you loved, when it was just the two of you playing around, like nothing else mattered. It was definitely much preferred to the usual arguments and screaming matches.
You two lay there in silence for a few moments, with him hovering over you still. That's before his voice breaks the moment, "I'm still mad." He teases, the smirk reappearing on his lips.
You burst out laughing, as his words break your little bubble. That's when you lean up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His eyes immediately close, responding to your lips against his. "Are you still pissed now?" You ask, pulling away, his lips still chasing yours.
"Now, I'm hungry." He playfully growls, before rolling us over, so you were now laying on top of his chest. You smile down at your boyfriend, leaning down to press your lips to his.
You were in for a long day, one that you'd probably need all of tomorrow to recover after..
As part of @lathalea and I’s Armitage Summer Splash, I present to you, day 28.
Masterlist of fics for Summer Splash
Prompts: “Let's skip to the good part.“ / Dream trope.
Fandom: Spooks
Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)
Warnings: SPOILERS OF SEASON 9. Angst, su*cide, character death, grief. This is quite a dark piece, so read at your own risk. I've given fair warning.
Summary: Amy now knows that Lucas North is really John Bateman, and in desperation, he has taken his own life. Amy is left behind now to mourn for her lover who she never really knew and question her own future with MI-5.
Comments/Notes: If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please say. This fic doesn't follow on from any of my others, but I'm still using the storyline of Lucas really being John Bateman. Oh, and Ros is still alive as well.
Amy's whole world had been blown apart in just 48 hours. Not only had she been informed that her boyfriend of almost a year was not who he claimed to be, but he had also taken his own life. Harry Pearce, Lucas' senior manager had spoken with Amy only an hour after the incident.
"He begged for me to tell you that he loved you and was sorry," Harry had said. Even if Harry was a seasoned intelligence officer and spy, Amy could still hear his voice cracking down the phone line. "He couldn't bear the thought of returning to prison."
Then the dream came. Two days after Lucas had gone.
"Let's skip to the good part," he had chuckled, holding Amy in his arms and spinning her around while she giggled. Both of them were suited for their wedding and had matching gold bands on their hands.
There would never be a good part. Amy was left behind now with a gaping hole inside her, a piece of her soul missing. That piece of her soul had jumped from the roof of Thames House.
Ros visited Amy. The two of them were quiet for the first five minutes, hovering over a cup of tea each. It was Amy who broke the silence. "You never really know what to say when someone has passed on," Amy mused. "I remember when my grandmother died, and the whole family seemed to distance themselves from each other. Grief becomes something that you're scared of approaching. It's an elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge."
Ros listened, her normally stern face showing much empathy for her colleague. "Sorry never seems to cut it. It feels empty somehow and redundant. I'd feel that it wouldn't be welcome."
Amy's lip quivered and she gripped Ros' arm. "Not from you it wouldn't. You never say sorry unless you mean it. And I can see in your face that you'd mean it. You hear people say they feel anger at the person who has passed, but I don't. I can't feel anger towards him, and I don't know why."
"Don't question your emotions, Amy. Just let them in, feel them. Don't cover them, and don't question."
"I had a dream about him last night. We were married. Then I remembered that I wouldn't be Mrs. North, not really. That part always seems to be something I can't seem to keep a grip on. I have to remind myself that he wasn't really Lucas. But I can't see him as anyone else. How much of him was real?"
"One thing I know that was real and it was how much he loved you. No one can fake that. Not even him."
"We had a conversation once about the difference between men and women. He said that men compartmentalise, and I suppose I can see that. Was that what I was? Did he take me out of the box when he needed to? Then shut me away when he became someone or something else."
Ros sighed. "Try and hold on to the good memories you had with him. Don't wonder on these things right now. If you have to keep him in your mind as Lucas in order to keep your own peace of mind and to heal, then do it. The healing will take time. Harry and I have already agreed that you need at least a few weeks off. There's an investigation going on, and you can't be anywhere near that."
Amy looked at Ros with tear-filled eyes. "I don't think I could step foot back in that building, Ros. Everything would remind me of him. He was such a central part of everything I did there."
"Don't think on that now. Be with yourself for a while, but remember that we're all here for you; me, Ruth, Tariq. We're with you in this."
"Thank you," Amy whimpered, and embraced Ros tightly.
– abuse. (do not request for extreme violence/i do not write any abuse scenes, it may only be mentioned/implied)
– mental illnesses. (before writing a character with a mental illness (ex. depression), i will try my best to research as much as i can and not portray it poorly. and i will not write about certain mental illnesses.)
– 18+/nsfw/smut. (no incestuous relationships please.)
– swearing.
more warnings may be added in the future.
if any of the topics above are harmful to you or a specific group please dm me and i will remove the post(s) containing those topics.
Ok...here goes....I have trichotillomania. It's a disorder where you pluck out hairs till points of baldness and it could be very damaging. I was wondering...if you ever have time for it...you could write a fic about one of the sides having trich. It's would be nice to relate to them and have a personal reminder that there is support. If you don't have time it's fine...I..I was just wondering. Have a great...day. -Shy anon
This is gonna get a little rambly since this has been sitting in my inbox for about a week and I now have the time and feel comfortable enough to properly answer this. THIS IS A SERIOUS TOPIC SO BE CAUTIOUS PROCEEDING!
I understand wanting to read about this anon and I didn’t reply to this at first because I wasn’t sure how to go about this. I don’t know anyone with trichotillomania and I like to research and write what I know. That being said, I can completely understand how much it took for you to send this so instead I’m gonna try and help a different way. There is THIS short fic about the same topic, but it was the only fic I found besides this short plot rundown.
Honestly, I even tried writing something about it since I did do a bit of research but it didn’t really work out(I will post what I managed though).I’m sorry I couldn’t give a real response like you wanted but just know that I may not know what you’re going through but I love that you were brave enough to talk to me about this, anon!! <33—-Logan read every topic, book, article, blog, and anything else he could get his hands on about it but nothing seemed to work. The urge, the itch, it was always there. He kept himself busy with crosswords and sudoku puzzles. He kept his hands busy and away from him while he organized and wrote down notes, but as he would pause to think, he reached for whatever he could grab. His hair, his eyebrows, even his eyelashes… he was never fast enough to catch himself and try to stop. It was just a natural instinct and he made sure to do whatever he could to hide it from the others. He was logic and it made sense to him, but the others wouldn’t understand that he couldn’t just stop……which is why he was so surprised when Roman discovered him one day, a pile at his desk as he worked, stumped on the latest schedule. They were behind and running out of time. The last project should have been done a week ago so Roman barged in to give a few creative ideas to help. Instead, their day ended with Roman reassuring Logan that everything was okay. He understood that some things could not be helped but dealing with it alone made no sense. It was as if Logan was battling a monster and not calling for help. He had his family that would do anything. Sure, he wouldn’t completely stop but the other three would be with him every step of the way. That was all Logan really wanted…
I have a strange mix of potential hypersomnia and depression resulting in me being exceptionally tired and able to nap/sleep anywhere, anytime. Somnophilia stuff under cut here
Resulting in me having a somnophilia kink. Mixed with Gem…. Especially current Gem who also likes an extra nap here and there… Half asleep barely awake sex after a mutual nap being so soft and intimate and drowsy. or being so relaxed during/just after that I simply close my eyes and drift. Taking a nap midway through not because it’s boring but just it feels so nice and the slow drag makes me fuzzed and warm and waking up he’s still inside. the feeling of that haze being just aware enough Something is happening but comfortably half asleep still while being coaxed and spoken to with that soft voice. Is this too freaked out im sorry everyone it’s been weighing on me heavily but like sleep n being horny are my two favourite things ever
