#I want kids that aren’t afraid to ask any old shit

[yesterdayiwrote]

Look, if F1 producing kid friendly content for race weekends means we get more driver/kid interviews then I’m 100% behind it…

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Fifteen | Where It All Started…

Dominik’s suspension had flown by. We spent half of it avoiding each other and the other half in bed. Somehow we resolved everything without resolving anything and I could be okay with that. We both made mistakes. If we could just stop sabotaging things we would be fine.

WWE didn’t stop calling or texting Dom. I wanted to be with him so badly I didn’t care what that looked like, if it meant I was involved or used as a pawn.

“Can we talk about it?” Dom was picking up shoes and doing some mini interview downtown that I tagged along to.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We aren’t using our personal lives as viewer bait.” He scuffed while snatching another pair of Nikes.

“But you can pretend to be other people’s boyfriends as viewer bait?” I retorted with my voice a little too loud when I realized people glanced over at me. Trailing behind him closely I whispered, “I want an excuse to go with you.”

“So I don’t fuck up again?” Twisting into me he purposely got so close it hurt just to breeze by me.

Still following his lead, “No, because I’m tired of being apart. I’m tired of hurting each other in general. I’m not going for a story line - you know I have zero interest in that shit. I did the living alone in our new house, missing you and masterbating to death thing. It’s old.”

Crowding me at the mere crude words, Dominik stepped into me until my back was against a poorly placed mirror. “Shhh. No one needs to know that. You can come but if I know my bosses they’re gonna hound us until we say yes. They want this storyline and you being on the road with me is a tease. They’ll never let it go.”

“Why are you so against it? What do they want from us?” I asked him, unsure of why he was so angry over nothing.

Looking down at me, I could feel his tense body against mine. I wasn’t showing yet but all of me felt more filled out. His fist pressed against the mirror as he leaned further in. “You would be with Randy. By his side. The whole point is to break Rhea and I up.”

“Can’t hide behind her forever, right?” I said it and regretted it. They were close beyond work partners, they were best friends and nothing would change that. Not my jealous or snarky attitude.

I had triggered him entirely when his mouth tightened and his eyes rested down into slants. “I’m not hiding. I’m protecting you. I’m not watching the replay of his hands on you.”

His words felt like gasoline to the fire my body felt. My entire body ached for him. “We can make the rules. It doesn’t have to be how they want. I just want to be there when you come to bed.”

“Don’t you remember how much you hated it last time?” He scolded, leaving me there to sulk while he cashed out.

Gaining composure I followed him, “We were kids. I didn’t hate it…”

Dom’s mouth was wide and his eyes matched. All of him trying not to laugh as he chewed his gum. “All day training, endless meetings, shows at night, and exhausted afterwards. When I got back to the bus every night I could tell how much you hated it.”

“It was like being at your parents but worse. We shared a bed, Dom, but we weren’t having sex. There was zero privacy with your dad there and because I was with you two I had all eyes on me. I was afraid to even be myself.” Taking the bags we left the store behind and headed for his car.

Opening the door for me I slipped inside when he leaned down, his face mere inches from mine, “Selective memory, huh? That tiny ass shower, walking in on each other. We had some privacy.”

“It’s not just that, Dom. I was a ghost and no one expected any different. I was invisible all day until you dragged yourself to bed where we’d fool around but nothing else because your dad was on the same bus. I didn’t want to be reduced to some shitty orgasms, I wanted to be someone you shared your world with.”

The car ride back home was silent and I forced myself to look out the windows. I spent three weeks on the road with Dom and his dad before Dom was even signed with WWE. He was still training but they used him for storylines and Dom got to keep his dad company.

It was torture. I spent my days bored, my nights unbearable without touching Dom, and everything in-between had his dad close by. Enough to behave.

I didn’t want to repeat that, I just wanted to be close by Dom while I was pregnant.

“That’s bullshit. I was busy but you weren’t reduced to a fucking orgasm. We had plenty of firsts on the bus. Plenty… When you came on the road that was the first time we got drunk and fucked..” Behind the wheel, his hand found my inner thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“That was not the first time we got drunk…” my knees fell in his direction and I felt him hand only slid further up my thigh.

His cheeky smile couldn’t have had a better effect when he flashed his pearly whites at me. “No, but it was first time we fucked drunk, babe.”

[ flashback ]

Everyday felt like groundhogs day. Only I became more invisible as time went on. 

From the moment we woke up Dom would train, rehearse, do media, have meetings, and do a show. I would be left to my own devices, making friends with the crew or exploring outside the venue until I got restless. 

Every night Dom would crawl into the bed we shared, expecting me to want him when nothing had changed. I was still sabotaging every reason or feeling pointing to him. I still kept telling him we couldn’t and he would get frustrated enough to hate me each night I said no.

It wasn’t until I was venturing the venue I realized my backstage pass eliminated anyone asking me for ID when I added an alcoholic beverage to my order of fries. Dom and I were twenty, close of enough and had gotten drunk plenty of times while his parents were gone. Something felt especially dangerous about being invisible and drunk.

Not realizing how quickly I was slurping these drinks down I headed back to the dressing rooms, trying to find Dom before I missed bus call. Pushing the door open I saw a few wrestlers spread out and Dom getting undressed himself. “How did it go?” I said while sitting down on the bench behind him.

Looking around he almost panicked, “You can’t be in here. What are you doing?”

Granted it was the guys locker room but we were all adults. They all knew I was here for Dom. Standing up I felt my legs doing what they were suppose to but the floor kept moving, like an earthquake. “Okay, I’ll just go to the bus.”

His hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back to his locked. Crowding me, almost hiding me, his low voice whispered, “Are you drunk?”

Laughing I responded, “Not yet.”

His hand smoothed down my back, stabilizing me, and cupping my ass like he knew I couldn’t stop. “Let’s get drunk and fuck… I have nothing tomorrow. No work. I miss you. I crawl into bed and miss you when you’re right here. I need you.”

His face was so close to mine I could feel his hot breath tickle my lips. Everything around us seemed to disappear and I didn’t care who was around to witness our tug of war of a relationship. 

“We share a bus with your dad…” I whispered so lightly it felt like a mistake as the words came out.

Dom’s lips brushed mine, pinning against his locker, and his hands trialing up my body. His hands stopped once he got to my breasts, hesitant, suddenly unfamiliar. We had been living in Miami on our own but we had given up teasing each other the way we did in high school. 

“I don’t care who sees or hears. I fucking need you. Every night for the past month I’ve been begging you to let me touch you… every night you say no. Sharing a bed with you in torture. I can feel you against me every night in barely fucking anything.” His voice shook, his hands shook, and his eyes begged me to understand. Dom was hurting for it and I was reason.

“It’s that bad?” I asked knowing the answer. My nipples responded the exact way he wanted when his hand squeezed my tits. 

“It’s you or someone else, mi amore.” He said sternly, clearly tired of our games.

My hands against his chest, I pushed him away, “Or someone else? Are you serious?”

“I’m not jacking off again. I fucking can’t. I need pussy. There’s a local bar, we’re all going to blow off steam and almost everyone is off tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the bus in half hour. I gotta shower.”

I could feel the buzz wearing off when I left the locker room only to bump into Randy. “Shit. You scared me.”

Smiling down at me from his staggering height and insane muscles he stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You going to the bar?”

“If Dom does.” 

“That’s your problem, you do everything for Dom. Is he doing enough for you?” Randy only paused for a second before heading into the locker room, not waiting for a response.

I went back to the bus, riffling through my suitcase to find a little black mini dress and some cute heels to wear. I could see Dom heading towards me in his off white shirt, black joggers and Vans looking sexier than I was prepared for. 

“Mi amore. You ain’t gonna take it easy on me at all.” Opening the bus door he pushed his back inside and put his arm around my shoulders before guiding us to some rental car. Slipping inside the back, someone else was driving, someone I didn’t know. 

The bar was busy, almost crowded, and the music was the perfect mix of 2000s and 90s. Waiting for our drinks next to the bar, Dom pressed himself against me, his hand on my waistline. Whispering into the shelf of my ear, “Are you going to let me fuck you or am I looking for someone else?”

It was crude, stern and I could feel his muscles etch into stone while he asked. He was hurting and now of that changed that I didn’t want to date. I couldn’t have us fail and lose him so it was easier to reject him.

“Dom…” 

“So you got all sexy for someone else? Cool. Don’t be mad later. Text me when you leave.” Grabbing his beer from behind me I wanted to explain but he didn’t give me the chance. 

I don’t know when Randy walked in or how long he was standing behind me when I twisted around hoping it was Dom again. “You know-” I cut myself off realizing it wasn’t him at all. “Sorry, thought you were Dom.”

“For you? I could be.” His crotch brushed my ass making me stand up straighter. “Is that all it takes to get you into bed? You’re too beautiful for such low standards.”

“Real smooth. Sorry if I don’t faint or spread my legs. I’ve been dealing with guys like you since fourth grade when my boobs came in.” I shoot back down the rest of my mixed drink.

Even more pressed against my back, his head dropped, speaking into my neck after pushing my hair away. “I’m not Dom, babe. I’m not begging. If I want something I take it. Look around, sweetheart, he’s moved on and you’re the one sulking at the bar alone.”

Twisting around to face him I glanced around the bar to see Dom flirting with some blonde. She was laughing and touching his arms. “It’s complicated.”

“You want him but keep rejecting him. He wants you and keeps begging. Sounds pretty simple. Do you want my help or not?”

I shook my head up and down ignoring the wedding band on his finger. 

“Order another drink. Relax. I’m gonna stand next to you like this and I’m gonna touch you, let me. He’s gonna notice and get jealous.” Randy’s hand smoothed down my ass, cupping and grabbing.

“Childs play. We tortured each other in high school with other people.” I sipped on my drink trying to imagine it was Dom instead. 

“Are you wearing panties?” He asked and I looked at him wildly like whatever he was about to say crossed some invisible line. “Sit down. Let me take them off, I’m gonna put them in my pocket.”

I down my drink and the shots Randy order, facing Dom flirting with some random girl I didn’t know. She straddled his lap and Dom let her. He wasn’t even looking in my direction. 

Pushing Randy aside I strutted over to him pissed off and drunk. “What are you doing. We sleep in the same bed every night and now you’re letting some slut violate your lap?”

Licking his lips he whispered to the petite blonde before saying loud enough to hear. “Let me handle this.” Following Dom to a quieter part of the bar he pinned me against the wall, his fists balled up and boxing me in.

“I told you. I need pussy. Don’t act like Randy wasn’t just touching your ass, Mami. Don’t act innocent.”

Pushing my hands against his chest, he didn’t move, smirking at me. “Fuck you.”

“Happily babe. I’d fuck that tight little pussy anytime,” his husky voice hit me harder than any amount of liquor. 

“You know we can’t.” I begged, exhausted and drunk all over again. “You think it’s not hard for me? The texts, the photos, watching you wrestle every night? It’s torture but I can’t ruin our friendship.”

“Years of avoiding us. Years of telling me we can’t even when we fucking do. What’s the point? Liv wants me. I don’t have to beg.” Lingering before walking away I felt every part of me hate him. Dom was cruel without having to be cruel and tonight was different. He meant it.

I watched Dom get drunk and handsy with Liv until it was unbearable. I knew I had to play the same game.

I stood between Randy’s legs letting his hands defile me in way I only wanted Dom to. Kissing my neck I giggled at how much it tickled while I watched Liv slowly convince him to go home with her.

This time felt different. We weren’t hurting each other but actually being selfish. Dom had needs and he wasn’t going to argue with me about it.

Forced to watch from afar I decided maybe this was the time to actually move on, stop playing games, stop waiting for me to stop being scared.

Feeling tipsy board-line drunk I couldn’t drink another sip of liquor when I watched Liv’s hand trail down his abs.

I mumbled to myself before letting Randy’s hand smooth up my thigh until it felt wrong. Nothing about Randy felt right.

“Just ignore them. Let’s get out of here…” My eyes kept glancing at Dominik and Liv pawing at each other like they were in heat when I couldn’t find Dom without putting my head on a swivel.

Appearing like I had summoned him with his arms crossed and a devilish scold. “Can I speak to you in private?”

Pushing Randy’s hands off of me I stood up and followed Dom, excusing myself quietly. Dom’s eyes bore into me until I felt like whatever disappointed speech he was about to give wasn’t even necessary anymore. By the bathrooms, the only quiet and private spot I waited for his cruelty.

“Are you fucking serious? Randy? Maybe you two belong together after all, you run to him every time.” Dom’s voice was ice cold when it skated down my spine.

I was too shocked to say anything. I couldn’t argue, if it wasn’t Dom somehow Randy was there to pick up the broken pieces. It wasn’t on purpose, not by me at least. “Why did you stomp over here, Dom? You don’t have to beg her, remember?”

His body was so close to mine I felt my chest labor every new breath. His eyes looked me over and hie tongue swiped along his bottom lip. “I know what you’re trying to do. You never had a hard time making me jealous. He’s not me, mi amore, he’s not gonna let wait for you to finally give it up.”

“Maybe I won’t make him,” I retorted.

I watched Dom’s hands ball up into fists and his mouth got tight. “You’re a fucking bitch. We’ve had sex, sweetheart, I know every fucking turn on because I gave them to you. I know when you’re about to come you close your eyes and bite your lip because we had to be quiet in my parent’s house. I know you like it from the back most because that’s how you fucked that toy when you wouldn’t fuck me. I know every scar you forgot how you got. I know every freckle. I know you’re ticklish on the inside of your right thigh, that you liked your nipples pinched not sucked, and you prefer my cock without a condom because it feels better. I fucking know you. We’ve had sex enough to know what we like. Why do you make this difficult?”

“Because I’ll hurt you eventually and I’ll lose you. I can’t lose you.” I pushed my hands against his chest, ready to run away again.

“Don’t make me do something I regret. Don’t make me fuck her because you won’t. I’m hurting, baby. I can’t sleep next you and not touch you anymore.” Dom voice shook and his eyes fell to the floor. Dom was really ever even hurt but the way his hands were shaking felt too real.

“I can feel your heart racing,” my palm laid even flatter. “Let’s go sit down, come with me.” I felt bad already but Dom was hurting in a way that was my fault without me realizing it. I should have found a new bed to sleep in, I should have had boundaries, anything to stop torturing him.

A dark corner of booths were vacant when I pushed Dom subtly to sit down. Climbing onto his lap I straddled him. “No one will see.”

His head rolled back and his knuckles swiped his nose. “Fuck. No, baby, I don’t want some quick fuck like you’re some rat. I wanna fucking touch you. I wanna see what’s under this dress. Fuck, I wanna taste you. You aren’t some cheap fuck.”

“Please, Dominik. You’re hurting, I’m gonna help.” Rolling my hips so lightly I tried to keep my breathing steady.

His eyes went wide and I watched him shift under me, creating space. “Wow. A pity fuck. I’m not drunk enough for that.” He exhaled a long drawn out breath before pushing me down beside him.

I felt defeated, stuck, trying to not ruin our friendship had became my sole focus and right now I hated it. I abandoned Randy, paid the bar tab and took an Uber back to the bus. Dom’s parents were big wine drinkers and his dad was fast asleep when I snagged the rest of his open bottle. Getting comfortable in our giant bed at the back of the bus I rewatched a show I had seen too many times to count.

Each glass of wine only made me more paranoid. I was checking socials, jumping at every sound, and praying he didn’t fuck her the way I knew he needed. The unmistakable sound of the bus door opened and closing forced me still, as still as I could be drunker than I was at the bar. Wine hit me more than any mixed drink did.

I didn’t bother to look sober when Dominik came through the bedroom door. Walking to his side I didn’t dare look but I could hear him getting undressed. I wanted to look so badly, it felt like it had been days since I’d seen Dom shirtless.

Laughing and struggling with his pants I realized he was as drunk as I was but yet I kept my eyes forward.

“How about that pity fuck now, baby?” In just a shirt and pair of boxer briefs he forced me to look at him.

“Dom… I was just trying to protect myself. It wasn’t a pity fuck, how is riding you in public pity?” The wine hit me even hard with every word as I shifted to sit up higher, closer to him standing at the edge.

“It was cheap, you didn’t want me to see you or touch you. Fuck, you didn’t even want it. I can’t fuck you like that, you aren’t some rat.” Taking off his shirt I took in every tattoo, every muscle, every way he was perfect.

“We're both drunk and your dad is sleeping in a bunk. I can get a hotel if the bed is a problem. I don’t want to torture you.” On my knees in the middle of the bed in his shirt and a thong I almost whimpered at the logic. I wanted to be reckless. I wanted to fuck Dom until I couldn’t anymore. I just couldn’t break his heart in the process.

“You’re sitting here in my shirt and a fucking thong, putting my feelings first when we both know you’re just as turned on as I am. You’re fucking made for me. I need you to take off those panties, mi amore.” Kneeling on the bed his mouth found mine and I couldn’t help kiss back. Dom’s warm tongue rolled against mine and I whimpered.

His fingers laced with the thin band of my thong, dragging it down my legs and tossing them to the side before stumbling back down to me. “Shhh, your dad.”

Dragging me down to the edge he stepped off enough to push his designer box briefs off. “I don’t care who hears as long as it’s my name you’re saying. Everyone knows we’re in love, you just refuse to admit it.”

My shirt lifted up while Dom’s hands cupped my tits. He said what I refused to, all in one sentence, not three words. “Dom,” I whimpered when he looked down between my legs.

“I know, it’s just a pity fuck so I don’t have to fuck my hand.”

On my knees I dragged him down as he sloppily fell on the bed. Straddling him again I looked down at him, still wearing his cross, looking up at me like I already broke his heart.

Sitting up I waited for him to guide himself inside me when I whispered, “Promise this doesn’t change anything?”

I sat down slowly, every inch stretching me out and sobering me. I moaned out the second our bodies were flush and every inch was buried inside me. 

“Why would it?” The disdain on his face was hard to ignore. None of this was going to be a good memory. “Nothing ever changes between us.”

Rolling my hips softly I felt his hands travel up the front of my shirt, squeezing gently. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I ruined it with feelings.” I stilled over him, not moving an inch when he fell back down to the bed, exhaling in this annoyed way.

Under me I watched him grow more and more unforgiving. “I left the bar alone. I pushed Liv away. I came home to you like I always do.” Pushing me off his lap he b-lined it to my cup of wine before continuing. “Like a good little boy. I’m always thinking of us when you don’t even want to be an us.”

“We are an us - just a different kind of us. Every time we fuck you pressure me into feeling guilty about not wanting to add feelings into the equation.” I was pleading with Dom to keep it simple: just sex. 

Sitting on my side of the bed he poured me a glass and drank straight from the bottle. “Because it’s never gonna be just fucking for me. I’ve had girlfriends and I’ve had sex, none of them are what happens between us.”

Taking another sip I wrapped my arms around him from behind, my body pressed against his back. “That’s why I avoid it, I keep saying no. Torture is easier.”

With my chin on his shoulder I looked down at his body and wished I was someone else. Someone who wasn’t broken the way I was. Taking my wine I pulled away from him, laying down and ignoring the still playing television on the wall. Instead I scrolled through socials. 

Without even trying I had drank my entire oversized glass of wine and scrolled to a video of Dom and Liv making out in a dark bar. I watched it more than a dozen times before Dom got my attention. “I’m gonna get some air. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Sitting up, more drunk, I asked him. “Are you going to fuck Liv?” The video was still looping on my screen in my hand. 

He stopped getting dressed and turned around to face me. “Do you want me to lie or tell the truth?”

“Lie,” my lip shook and I got up on my knees like his answer had power over me. 

“I’m getting some air. I’ll be back, you don’t have to wait up.” Dom looked me in the eye and I felt my heart panic. 

Taking off the only item of clothing, his shirt, off I sat back down on my heels. “Tell me the truth, Dom.”

Pulling down his shirt he stood there in front of the bed in the small room taking up the end of the bus. “Liv texted me. I’m gonna go over to her hotel room.”

“And fuck her because I ruined it.” 

Closing his eyes just a little long then needed as he paused. “You don’t get it, I’ve never needed pussy the way I do right now. I don’t know if it’s being pushed up against you at night, finding your fucking toy, I don’t know. All I know is I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. I can’t fucking rehearse or train. I can’t fucking sleep next you. I need pussy.”

“Don’t go. Don’t fuck her.” I pleaded with my hands clutching onto his shirt and pulling him closer.

Our mouths collided and our tongues immediately found heaven inside each other’s mouths. “Take these off. Take it all off.”

Dom pulled his shirt off effortlessly before pushing me back on the bed. Our mouths found each other again while my legs wrapped around him.

My hands pulled on the waistband of his joggers forcing him to push them down between our bodies. I forgot we weren’t alone when I moaned at loud at his knuckles brushing my clit while he lined himself up.

Dom was so hard it felt all too much when he pushed inside me. Every husky breath fell on my chest cause my back to arch for him. I always wanted Dom but this time felt rushed, no long let desire but a need. 

Dom’s thrusts were punishing, hard and pausing at the end just long enough to torture me back. “Jesus. Fucking. How can you feel this good.”

His phone on the nightstand buzzed and buzzed until he rolled his eyes and reached for his phone. Switching positions I sat on his lap while he laid against the pillows. Riding him, I rolled my hips and arched my back forcing my tits in his face when he answered. 

His finger over his mouth he silently told me to not moan even though his voice sounded labored at hello. 

I couldn’t hear it until he put it on speaker and dropped in on the pillow next to him. Relaxing more, he laid back, his hands working my tits. 

“Are you still coming? I’m wearing something you’ll love taking off of me..” the girly voice was easy to name. Liv.

Grabbing my hips, Dom forced me to pick up the pace when he hurried his face in my neck. We were both breathing heavily and the moans we were hiding wasn’t working. 

“I’m a little busy right now… Fuck… just like that baby.” Placing my hand over his mouth I muffled his moans. 

“You’re fucking that bitch? Are you serious?”

She started talking but Dom ended the call before I could register any real thoughts. All I could focus on was Dom jerking inside me and my legs shaking. 

Whispering against my lips, “Let me come inside you.”

I let him, just like I did before. There was something about the way he held onto me when he groaned his way to his orgasm that I couldn’t say no to. His arms around my waist he held me still, groaning into my chest, before he came inside me. 

He knew I loved him; he just didn’t know why I couldn’t.

“First time I realized we would always have separate lives to some degree.” I choked out knowing it was true. I would always be a guest when it came to his work and he would feel like a guest in our lives at home. There was no winning. No amount of me being by his side was going to change that fact.

“What does that mean?” I could feel his wrinkled brows glance at me with his hand strangled the steering wheel of his BMW.

I fixed my eyes out the window, “I’ll never be apart of that part of your life. Work takes up more of your life than anything else and I’m forced to piece it together Monday nights. I didn’t even know you were going to carry on some fake relationship with Rhea. I’m stuck at home watching.”

Starring at me instead of the road he snickered, “And I don’t feel the same about you being home? Getting to live the life I want to be living with you? You went on the road and hated it. Now they want you to partner with Randy and suddenly you want to travel with me?”

“Fuck you. This has nothing to do with him.” I argued. I couldn’t say I need to be there so you don’t cheat. That was only part of the reason, really.

The rest of the drive was quiet, so silent it almost felt heavy and when he pulled into the driveway I barely waited for him to turn the car off before I headed inside.

Last time I was on the road was torture and I was willing to give it another shot for our relationship. We weren’t kids, we couldn’t get drunk and fuck our problems away.

[fanficfanattic]

🌹🌹🌹

Three beautiful red roses for meeeee?

🌹

Roy/Jamie, S1, Roy goes to Keeley for advice on handling Tartt but he doesn’t ignore her advice like Ted did:

Back in the locker room after practice, Jamie hasn’t even changed out of his kit or thought about showering. Just goes straight to Roy and asked if he’d been good enough.

“No.” Jamie’s face starts to fall but Roy keeps talking. “You’re going to have to work for it, Tartt. You aren’t afraid of hard work, so I’m not worried that you’ll get there.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah Captain.” And since Jamie didn’t whine or bitch or moan, Roy decides to give him a treat. That will also test how honest Keeley was truly being with him.

“You can have my fingers in your mouth for two minutes. Consider it incentive for tomorrow.” Roy didn’t move his hands, though, and Jamie was as good at reading his intentions in that moment as he was at reading opponents on the pitch. He gracefully sunk to his knees, angled himself lower, and took Roy’s first and middle finger into his mouth from below them.

The instant look of serenity on his face confirmed Keeley had maybe even undersold how effective this would be. Tartt’s gentle humming buzzed against the skin of his finger. Making him think this was going to be a much better experience than he thought it might be even just the night before.

He hadn’t used his watch, so he wasn’t sure how long had passed. But right when he was ready to pull away because surely two minutes had passed, Tartt pulled himself away. But he was cheeky enough to then rest his forehead on Roy’s hip while he took deep, steadying breaths.

Then, like a bubble popping, Roy tuned in and realized that the room was filled with feverish whispering gossip.

“Oi! What did I say earlier? You make shit harder, you answer to me.” And the room went back to as close to normal as they could make it.

🌹

Gen fic, S1, family curse story. Georgie and Simon come down as fast as they can to help with caretaking (so Georgie can snuggle her little boy as much as possible while he’s little again):

“Oh, that boy! The only one here born yesterday is you, isn’t that right poppet,” she singsongs at the baby Jamie in her arms.

Then the smile slid off her face as she looked between Ted and Beard. She was visibly deliberating before deciding who to start with.

“Coach Lasso. Jamie told me you have a son of your own, dontcha?” Her tone was carefully neutral which was an alarm bell given how much warmth and playfulness she’d spoken with to her family. Still, he stood up straight and smiled friendly at her.

“I do, yes, Henry. He’s 8 years old and Jamie was very kind to him during his visit.” His tone didn’t change at any point during his response, just as bright at the beginning as the end. Despite the fact he felt the conversation was already fraught.

“Of course he were. Jamie loves kids, always goes out of his way to make them feel like they’re special,” she replied firmly. It was an immutable fact so far as she was concerned. “He’d never take his frustrations with someone else out on a child.”

“Of course not, you’re right.” She raised her eyebrows high at that before cocking her head to the side. He really had no idea how to talk to her, she realized. And it seemed like today had really thrown him for a loop. Like others, he was apparently one of those people who thought they knew her son just from how he played.

Few things made her angrier.

“I’m going to be honest, Coach Lasso. You don’t much strike me as a person who appreciates conflict. Me? I don’t much either but I don’t run away from it. And that seems like your go-to move from what I’ve observed.

So it’s hard to want to show you respect already. But I also don’t much have use for men what abandon their families. And I’m sure you think your reasons are compelling, but from where I’m standing there is no way in hell they could be.

There isn’t a thing on this earth that would take me halfway across it away from me Jamie.”

🌹

From nothing solid yet:

The thing is. The thing is, and it’s not fair, he knows. But the thing is that Jamie has spent a dozen years dreading his phone’s screen notifying him of a text from “dad”. So now, even though his dad had graduated from rehab to a sober house, that knee-jerk dread still hasn’t faded.

It feels unfair to his dad. And it is definitely unfair that if he isn’t in a completely solid frame of mind when a text comes in, that it can send him spiraling faster than he can sprint.

[shrinkthisviolet]

I know this ask game was a while back but I would love love LOVE to know the thought process behind the 'stay gold' series please!!!!!

Ahhh ofc, I’d love to! Don't ever feel bad for asking me to answer an old ask game, I’m always down (as long as you give me enough details to figure out which one 😅)...and this goes for everyone else too! If there are any other fics you want the backstory for, feel free to send an ask my way, I’d be delighted.

So, I’ve made no secret of the fact that Sam is my favorite Cobra Kai character, and I adore her dearly. I was also shocked at the lack of time travel fics for KK/CK—there are a few, but they center on Daniel and Johnny more than anyone else. Like…guys, Daniel’s kids are right there, why not have one of them time travel?? And why aren’t there more fics with this premise in general??

So I figured out pretty early that I wanted to write a time travel fic starring Sam (given how much I love Daniel & Sam, it was a given). Then I had to figure out who would be part of it…and what event would spark it. I knew it had to be a trio to avoid getting overcrowded (I considered 4, but 4’s a crowd), and I debated Sam + Miguel + Robby for a while…but then I realized this was my chance to fix Sam & Tory’s friendship and write it the way I wanted to see it, so Tory had to be one of the people in that party. With Tory included, I nixed the idea of having them time travel post-s2, because I knew the premise of the fic wouldn’t allow me to write Sam’s PTSD as well as it deserved. So…2x04 was my launching point.

From there, I decided instead of having any of the guys time travel, I’d stick Aisha in the party instead. I wanted to keep Miguel for sweet Samguel moments, and Robby for Johnny-related drama…but again, 4’s a crowd, and I could accomplish both of those in different ways (Samguel sweetness with Sam talking about him in the past, plus they’ll have plenty of moments in the CK-era fics + Johnny-related drama with Sam taking Johnny to task for his poor parenting—she’s done that a bit already, but there’s more to come!). With the new launch point being 2x04, I didn’t want to exclude Aisha, considering how instrumental she was in Sam and Tory’s first impressions of each other—plus, she remembers what it was like to have Sam as a friend…and what it was like to lose her, and she takes no shit, so she’s not afraid to hold Sam to account for befriending Yasmine at Aisha (+ Demetri + Eli)’s expense. Also...she was written off too soon man, I just wanted to feature her more than the show was clearly interested in doing.

Oh yeah, that’s the other thing: in that time, I developed a headcanon of Sam, Aisha, Demetri, and Eli all being childhood friends. This is more relevant in the backstory fic, though it’ll be relevant again when Sam gets back to her proper time. But anyway…

Choosing the time travel party reminded me how pissed I am about how the female characters on this show are written. I wanted better for them. I also got very attached to Daniel & Sam’s relationship (that was a big reason for why I picked Sam as the main character in the first place), and the themes of legacy, making your own legacy, etc—themes that the show explored well in its early seasons and dropped the ball on post-s3 (Daniel & Sam’s s4 angst explored this…decently, but even then, it still felt reductive). So, I then decided that another big part of this AU, which would define it going forward, was Sam taking Daniel’s place at the AVT, to protect him—in a sense, creating her own legacy, though ofc that’s not what she’s thinking of. She sees her now-teenage dad in danger and knows she can help, she’s not thinking much further than that. But I am!

It’s funny because I got a comment months ago that was super pissed off about this 😂 somehow convinced that now Sam would never be born, as though Amanda and Daniel would never have gotten together if not for that tournament. Which like…I feel the need to remind y’all, this is a high school tournament. It’s not the Sekai Taikai. The show treats it as The Most Important Thing Ever (and so do the movies, albeit for different reasons), but that’s for drama. There’s more than enough evidence throughout the show that Amanda did not marry Daniel just for winning a high school karate tournament.

Ofc after finishing the KK1 fic, I had the idea to go back and write a prequel! Mostly to focus on Sam & Johnny, and make them friends before Sam time travels…but it also turned into a bit of a fix-it for post-s1 Samguel, with Sam calling Miguel out for fighting dirty at the tournament and them breaking up amicably. I also closed the door on any potential Sam/Robby, since that’s not the angle I’m going with for this AU…and I got to further explore Sam + Aisha + Demetri + Eli as childhood friends! Not a lot, but enough to establish it as canon to this AU, and it’ll be touched on more in later installments.

Currently the AU’s on a bit of a hiatus, because while I am writing the next fic, I’m fixated on the Morgan AU more than anything 😅 but rest assured, it will be finished! I just can’t make any promises about when

[percontaion-points]

Court (Crave #4) chapters 0-3

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Prologue

0 Fake It Till It Breaks You —Hudson— 

I’ll allow it for the prologue, but you’re on thin ice.

I’m going to lose it if this book introduces alternating first person POV. 

And when I finally surrender to my fate, I’m afraid it will destroy us all.

Prologue summary: Grace and Hudson sit around Hudson’s room at the school. Flint is being taken care of in the nearest hospital, but sent everybody non-essential away. Now Hudson watches his mate endlessly checking for messages about Flint’s condition that haven’t come in yet. We aren’t exactly off to a good start, especially when you realise that there’s close to 1k pages and 178 chapters. 

Chapter 1

Which is just another way of saying we are completely screwed. Again.

Chapter 1 summary: An unknown amount of time later, everybody sits around in the infirmary and kind of goes “Well shit.” And I get that now’s a good of a time as any to sit around and sulk about a sucky situation, but at the same time… Literally the first two and a half pages of chapter one are nothing but this sulking. It got old before the end of the first page, and by the time that somebody finally bothered to speak, I wanted to chuck something at one of them. 

Somebody mentions that they have to tell Luca’s parents that he’s dead. That there’s literally a 48 hour window before a dead vampire’s body turns into dust. That his family deserves to bury their son. Somebody else points out that since Luca’s family are obviously vampires, they don’t know whose side they would be on. Calling them, even to give a notification of death, would be playing Russian roulette with word getting back to Cyrus. This divides everybody into groups of those who agree that no contact is the way to go, vs those who would tell the grieving parents that their son is dead. 

Chapter 2

With those dark emotions flashing over their expressions, the Order shifts so that they’re all standing at Jaxon’s back as he faces off against Hudson.

I literally can’t even. How the fuck do they expect to take down Cyrus when literally one thing set them off?

“Now we wait,” Hudson answers, his eyes on the door Jaxon just disappeared through. “And hope we’re not making a huge mistake.”

Chapter 2 summary: The group is so divided about this that it literally almost comes to blows. I’m not kidding; they all get up and choose their side. Grace stands in between them and reminds them of how unsafe that it is. But if things were ready to come to a literal fist-fight, then I don’t think that her reminder convinced anybody.

Marise tells them that she can stay at the school, while the group goes somewhere safer. But they all agree that they’re not going to leave Marise behind, no matter what. 

Eventually, it’s decided that if they don’t notify Luca’s family, that they’d be no better than Cyrus. Hudson sits back, clearly waiting for his “I told you so” moment. 

Chapter 3

“But our magic is tied to our soul. If Cyrus is trying to siphon it, he’ll end up killing them!”

Cyrus literally led a genocide against the gargoyles. You think he gives a shit if children die?

But now, realizing he might only want them for their magic, that he has no need to keep them alive after he’s taken what he wants from them, I can’t believe I took the time for a shower. Or—oh my God—actually made out with Hudson while students might be dying. 

…Okay. And? You don’t have a plan. You have like a dozen exhausted and injured SCHOOL CHILDREN on your side. And the school nurse, who is also injured. 

What exactly are you planning to do? 

“Luca’s parents are leaving now.” His face is grim, his eyes infinite pools of grief. “They’ll be here by morning.”

Chapter 3 summary: As Marise fusses over Flint, they try to ask what happened. She doesn’t have a lot to say. Except that she’s pretty sure that Cyrus took the kids not as hostages or for leverage, but to drain them of their magic and toss them aside. The thought makes Grace full of guilt that she took some time to take care of her own needs. 

Eventually, there’s literally nothing for them to do except to stand around and listen as Marise gives care instructions for Flint’s broken leg. They all stand and act like Flint’s care is the single most important thing in the entire world. 

Jaxon eventually tells them that he contacted Luca’s parents; they’ll be there in the morning. 

[nalatheseller]

What is happening to me?

I had it in my mind to go one way and now my body is racing with ecstasy

Somewhere along the way, i lost my identity.

I look in the mirror and a different person looking back at me.

It’s like I went to sleep and woke up as someone else entirely.

I’m not sure what I’m trying to be.

I strive to be better than I was and now im doing shit differently.

Do you like what you see?

All the struggles I’ve experienced have given me a new way to think

I don’t care what anyone else wants anymore

The old me said fuck off and walked out that door

I’m not what you thought you could take me for

And it’s you who keeps coming back for more

Don’t ask for the old me cause she’s gone, good riddance.

Sad little bitch who cared way too much about other peoples opinions

I’m a sight for sore eyes

Im a woman most women despise

I’ve got more lies told about me that anyone that I know personally and yet I still continued to make sure I’m accommodating everybody and it’s bullshit.

I was a clueless kid.

Young dumb and having fun and yet I was still made into the joke time and time again.

My grandma always said you got to kill them with kindness but what about the people that are really close minded

At some point you gotta tell yourself that it doesn’t matter where their mind is.

They don’t know how bad i wanted to show them they were wrong.

Looking back on it, I should’ve been done with them before they were gone.

I’ve gone out of my way to help others in need

For years, I surrounded myself by bad company.

Had a fucking meltdown and took off on my family.

I still don’t understand what made me lose myself to insanity

I can’t even begin to comprehend or explain

I’m not here to talk about the price of my pain.

But I know for a fact there’s a lot of people who can relate.

I don’t associate with people who can’t bring something to the plate.

I used to feed everyone till I realized they didn’t even leave me with a bite to take.

Every time I’d go out of my way

It always ended the same

Some how and some way

They never cared how much I had to pay

Shit happens to everyone.

My situation is a result to my poorly made decisions.

I had good intentions.

My only goal at the end of the day is you and if you leave, what the fuck am I gonna do?

I’ll figure it out, it’s not like I can’t live without you.

At the same time, the thought of you not with me makes me wanna scream.

A terrible dream.

Don’t make me cause a scene.

I’m tired of arguing

Just shut up and hold me so I can sleep.

I’m feeling like I got a dagger in my chest and the rest of our future is drifting to a different galaxy

You got me fucked up if you think you’re gonna space travel without me

You defy the gravity of my personal atmosphere

Baby, you are what got me here

Sky diving through my stratosphere

Ill let you enjoy me after we get out of here

Listen dude, sit down and don’t act like a prude.

They don’t gotta know our business to know we aren’t afraid to see each other nude.

The haters can hate cause they are irrelevant between us

Kill them with kindness, don’t show them any weakness

You are my man so

Please don’t leave my standing alone

Let’s prove everybody wrong

A happy ending can still happen for people who used to get along…

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to come at you

But please remember some facts too.

We are always together, when the fuck would I have the time to go out of my way to play little fucking games.

I want everything to change.

I miss the man I call my everything.

Im his pretty bird so let’s spread our wings

It’s time to let go of the little things you can’t change

That’s if you want me the same way.

[luminnara]

Hear me out. Billy Hargrove falling for a gal with a toddler. This has been rolling around in my head for DAYS! Am I the only one that can see him just being completely wrapped around a 2-year-old little girl's finger? Or beating the shit out of a douchebag for insulting HIS family?!

Okay hear me out.

Billy doesn’t want to be a parent. As he starts healing from the abuse he’s suffered his whole life, he can’t stomach the possibility that he’ll turn out just like his father. He doesn’t LIKE kids, either, and besides Max and the little shits who run around at the pool and make his job harder, he doesn’t have any experience with them. He barely even got to be a kid himself, after his mom left, and he really doesn’t have any desire to ever have any.

But then he meets you one day, and he’s enamored. Maybe he runs into you at the store or something, and something about you just…clicks. So, naturally, he wants to take you out on a date, and you agree. He takes you out for dinner one night and everything is going so well, he doesn’t even try to Fuck you in the back of his car so he can get the intimacy he so desperately craves and then leave it at that. No, he takes you out on a second date, and a third…and at this point, he’s head over heels.

It’s also at this point that you decide this guy might be worth keeping around. You’re cautious, ever since your ex up and left, and at first, Billy seemed like he had the potential to be the same way. But he’s sticking by you and he isn’t even trying to overstep his bounds, reminding you more of a lost puppy than a sleazy dirtbag. So, you decide that he’s a keeper, and you tell him the truth:

You’ve got a kid.

At first, his eyes go wide. He’s surprised, because you don’t SEEM like a mom. You aren’t like Karen Wheeler or Susan. You’re his age, and you’re nice and you’re fun. It scares him a little, and you both think that he’s gonna run for it—until he pauses, and he asks himself WHY he’s scared. And he realizes that it’s because of himself, and his dad. And you don’t know anything about any of that, so how could he drag you into his own shit?

“I, uh, I gotta say…I don’t think I’m exactly father material,” he says, avoiding your gaze as he anxiously chews on a toothpick.

“Why?”

“Because…”

And suddenly he’s telling you everything. You, this person he only met a few weeks ago. And you’re not running, either, because you can see that he’s scared, but he’s trying to bounce back from everything life has thrown at him—and you don’t think he’s a danger. At all. You think he can break that cycle his father got so stuck in.

So, one hot summer day, you bring your daughter with you to the community pool, so Billy can meet her without the potential awkwardness of being stuck in your house.

He spots you immediately from his perch on the lifeguard chair, and he’s shocked at the way that he isn’t afraid of the interaction that he knows is coming. For some reason, his first instinct isn’t to run, but to yell for heather to come take his spot for a minute as he climbs down to meet you.

You’ve got your daughter on your hip, your tote bag over your other shoulder. You’ve got a wide hat that’s shielding both of you from the sun, and a swimsuit that’s a little too hot and trendy for a MOM to be wearing at the COMMUNITY POOL.

(Mrs. wheeler and the other mothers are watching you with judgmental eyes. When Billy walks up to you, their jaws drop. They can’t decide if they love seeing him kiss you because suddenly he looks like a family man, or if they hate it because it’s YOU)

You can tell he’s nervous as he says hi, both to you and to your daughter. She’s fascinated by the whistle hanging around his neck. He’s fascinated by the way that he isn’t terrified of holding her when you pick out a chair to hang out in and hand her off to him for a moment. When you glance back up at the two of them, you see that your daughter is grabbing at his curls, and he’s staring at her in absolute wonder, and you know that things are gonna go well.

And they do.

You and Billy get more serious. He moves in, and keeps you as far away from his dad as possible. Max is allowed over, though, because she’s a good (ish) babysitter. And Billy discovers that he’s kind of about this whole family life thing, after all. He keeps the Camaro, of course, because he’s not about to change his style and you’re not about to ask him to because it’s what you fell in love with in the first place, and the two of you are the coolest parents on the block. Your daughter sits outside as Billy works on his car. She grows up listening to Motley Crue and The Scorpions and everything else he likes. She never has to worry about bullies, because the other kids know who her dad is and they’re not about to incur his wrath. He never ever raises so much as a finger towards either of you, because he’s learned what love is and he’s learned to be gentle…but he’ll absolutely rock somebody’s shit if they make a snide comment about your little family.

[scuttling]

Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

[finelinevogue]

Obsessed with your imagines you so when they have 3 kids and they’re all older! What about one where Harry has to have a sex talk with his kids OR y/n and Harry come home to find their kids throwing a party? I think both could be super funny

this has me excited cause i love the idea of them throwing a party when y/n and harry are at date night!! (does contain smut)

oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16

“We’re so fucking screwed.”

“Belle, for the millionth time, chill the fuck out.”

But how the fuck was anyone supposed to be chill when there was a full-on house party, close to being a rave, occurring in their house? A house that was their mum’s life work. A house party that their parents new nothing about. A night where absolutely anything and everything could go wrong.

The three siblings stood at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the door, looking around at the scenes occurring between each room. There were girls whispering to each other on the sofas, there was a group of guys playing beer pong in the kitchen and there was a large group of people hanging around by the pool and some even taking a dip. What had meant to be a low-key party had managed to turn into the whole neighbourhood plus the next town over. It was completely overboard.

“Who’s idea was this again?” Belle asked, clearly not understanding the full reasoning behind a full fledged party in their house.

“All of ours.” Oli responded, when in reality it was really just his, and a bit of Felix, idea.

“Nope. I’m not getting grounded because you two dickheads wanted to be rebels.” Belle put her hands up as if to stop this whole situation. She did not want to be a part of this and yet had somehow got screwed up with it all.

“So what are you going to do?” Felix asked.

“Anywhere where this doesn’t have my name stamped all over it.” Belle gestured around her, all of them groaning when they heard something smash from a nearby room. They were actually going to be locked up forever after this.

“Belle, mum and dad are out for the night. Dad said he booked a hotel for them to stay over at, so they won’t even be back until tomorrow morning.” Oli explained, trying to calm down his very nervous sister.

“Yeah, plus if you’re so insistent on leaving why did you get so dressed up?” Felix did have a point. Belle had gone through the effort tonight to be looking as best she could. She was sporting a little black dress with black fishnet tights and her trusty Doc Martens. It was a very colourful outfit, as she would explain. Belle had even gone to the effort of adding glue-on gems to her makeup. Whereas her brothers were just wearing sweaters and trousers and trainers. Typical teenage boys.

“I’ll bet that’s why.” Oli nodded behind Belle and smirked as he watched his little sister turn around.

Megan Dover. Belle’s high school crush and cleverest person in the year. Felix and Oli caught Belle blush when their little sister looked at Megan, waving to her cutely. Belle was a lot more introverted than Megan, but Belle didn’t mind. She admired that Megan was so outspoken and kind and smart, but too bad they didn’t truly know of Belle’s existence. At least, not really.

“Alright fine, i’ll stay, but just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Belle rolled her eyes and then walked off in the direction of the kitchen - if she was ever going to speak to Megan she’d need at least 4 shots in her system.

“Be safe little B.” Oli waved her off and then the two brothers looked at each other knowingly. “Is Heather here?”

“Not yet no, think she’s coming with the girls in a bit.” Felix checked his phone as his brother questioned him. “What about Bea?”

“She’s upstairs.”

“Why? I thought we weren’t allowing anyone upstairs?”

“Dude she’s my girlfriend, I think she gets a pass.” Oli patted his brothers back and then saunters up the stairs two at a time to go and find his girlfriend and reintroduce her to the party.

Another smash of something glass sounding came from the kitchen, along with a turn of screams and mumbles of oops.

“Fuck, we are so screwed.” Felix muttered under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever was now broken.

••••

Meanwhile, you and Harry were basking in each other’s presence at a fancy new restaurant downtown called Caste Inn.

Harry decided it was time for you to have a treat and so was taking you out for dinner and then retreating to a fancy hotel, where he would not let you rest for the whole night. He was already being really handsy this evening, but you kept swatting his prying hands away because you were in public.

“Babe, c’mon i’m dying here!” He whined as you swatted his hand away from the skirt of your dress for the fifth time since mains. You were lucky you were in a crescent shaped booth so it was hard for anyone to see what was going on underneath the table, but you still felt so exposed.

“Quit it Harry.” You sniped, returning your attention back to the desserts menu. The restaurant was that kind of place where the portions are sparrow sized and yet cost you as much as it would to donate a kidney, so there was no surprise that you were still hungry and had room for dessert.

“Just wanna love on my wife.” He pouted next to you, keeping his arm slunk around the back of the booth to continue to caress your far shoulder delicately.

“We’re in the middle of a restaurant, you’re crazy.” You snickered, trying your hardest to focus on the desserts; Tiramisu, Chocolate Orange Gateau, Pecan Pie, Creme Brulé and an endless list of more mouthwatering yumminess.

“Fucking crazy for you, yes.” He kissed your cheek once, twice and then bit it too on the third, making you moan slightly at the exposure of it all. “You used to let me do this kind of thing all the time, what happened hey?”

“I got old.” You laughed, but really you felt saddened by the thought of it. You were approaching your forties and you felt as though time wasn’t on your side anymore. Life was all flying by so fast and it was becoming so hard to stop it for a moment to see how beautiful it all is. Harry could tell you were faking your happiness in that moment and he hated that you felt this way. He loved you. He would worship the ground you walk upon. Nothing would ever be too much of an ask for him if it meant keeping your happy. Yes, you were getting older, but it didn’t mean that was a bad thing. At least you were getting older together and becoming maturer together.

“Talk to me, love.” He gently asked, knowing there was something on your mind that was bothering you.

“I just… I just feel like i’m getting older—”

“You are love, yes.” He interrupted you, which earned him a slap to the thigh. He didn’t let your hand go though, leaving it to rest on his tight thigh.

“And then suddenly that’s going to be it. No more Y/N.”

“Don’t say things like that to me, please love.” Harry shook his head, squeezing your hand a little tighter.

“And I feel like i’ll have regretted not doing so many things. Like I won’t have lived my life.”

“Things like?”

“Things like riding a motorcycle with you. Things like staying up all night with a bottle of wine and a good bit of Elvis. Reckless things, like skinny dipping or crashing a high school party. Things like, having my husband finger fuck me in a public restaurant. I remember when everything seemed so free and chaotic and I loved it. Now I feel stuck.”

“Stuck how, love?” Harry leaned in closer to you, his eyes full of love and determination because if that’s what you wanted he could give you all those things - especially the orgasm.

“I’m a mum, H. You’re a dad. We’re parents,m. Good ones at that. Aren’t we supposed to be grown up and responsible now? We don’t get to take risks anymore, because we have a family right? God, I sound so pathetic.” You sighed and put the menu down, not thinking about which pudding you wanted to fill yourself up with anymore.

“Babe. If you want to ride a motorcycle and go skinny dipping then let’s fucking do it. Why are you so afraid to hold back? Because we have kids, because darling believe me when I tell you - however much it disturbs me - our kids are out doing just as many reckless and crazy things as we used to do. Maybe we should fuck the prestigious system and show our children, all parents - including us - that adulthood, parenthood, doesn’t define the choices you make. We do.”

You couldn’t stop looking at your husband, drinking in every last drop of his beauty. His words filled your heart with rose petals and chocolates, warming you up delightfully. God, you were so lucky to have him. He helped you through the most toughest of times and continued to stick with you, not because a ring says he has to, but because he loves you. Undeniably and irrevocably loves you.

That was all it took for you to comply.

Quickly, you moved one of your legs under the table cloth so it draped over Harry’s thighs and made an opening between your legs. The cloth hid everything well, along with the dirty napkins that sat upon your laps.

“Wh- what are you doing love?” Harry asked confused, after not hearing a word back from you for his earlier speech.

“Harry I love you, I do, but will you just shut up and fuck my pussy with your fingers already.” You whispered wetly against his ear with your lips. He groaned at the words and tightened his grip around your leg, widening the gap he had to work with.

His hand slid underneath your dress slowly, squeezing the flesh of your thighs in tease, until he got to where your panties were. Or at least where they should be.

“Shit, you’re not wearing any pants?” Harry asked quizzically, pushing his fingers against your glistening pussy and feeling just how ready you were for him.

“Oh fuck!” You muffled out before Harry quickly slapped your slit because you were making too much noise, which only then made you squeal a bit more. He slapped your cunt hard enough the second time for you to get the memo that you needed to be quiet - but fuck was that a challenge. As much as you can be quiet, you just don’t like to be. You like knowing that your moans and whines turn Harry in even more, just as much as you love hearing his.

“Fucking hell, soaked already.” His fingers toyed with the folds of your cunt, feeling how puffy they were between his ringed fingers. “Gotta be quiet for me okay?” Just as he started pushing his delicious fingers inside of you, the waiter turned up at the table with a cheery face and not a bouncing clue what was happening between the two of you.

“Desserts?” He asked politely with his charming smile, but you didn’t see it for too long before having to close your eyes shut at the sudden movement of Harrys fingers. He wasn’t stopping on the waiters behalf, in fact he was more forcefully going for it. He moved his fingers in circles inside of you, thumbing over your clit in the way he knew you desired most. He was insatiable.

Reckless.

“No, just the bill please. Need to take my wife home to take care of some things.” Harry spoke for you both, not understanding why he was being so open with the amount of information he was giving away. But fucking hell you didn’t care because his fingers were providing you pleasures beyond reason.

“Yes Sir. I’ll only be two minutes.” He smiled again before he was gone, taking the menus with him.

“Here that baby?” Harry whispered into your ear, moving his fingers more freely now there was less of an audience, “you’ve got two minutes to cum.”

“Wha—”

Questioning his authority would have to wait, for Harry got to work very quickly and perfectly. His fingers slicked in and out of you so erotically and if it wasn’t for the live music and loud chatter of the room, the sounds of his fingers driving in and out of you would be heard by everyone. His fingers curled to all the right places, touching the most sensitive parts of your walls and hell did it feel blissful.

“I’d say you’ve got about a minute left baby, and I think you can cum for me before then. Can’t you? Or am I not good enough for that kind of release anymore?” Harry taunted you and pressed wet kisses to your ear. You were too lost in euphoric paradise to notice, or even care, whether anyone could see or was watching you both. You were too focused on your husband. Your Harry.

“N-no. I can cum. You’re so good - shit - so g-good.” You stammered out, breathless from the air stolen from your lungs because of this erotic moment. This was so bad behaved of you both that you were starting to get a high off of it.

“Cum for me then baby. Do it. I’ve got you.” He kissed your lips to capture the moan that trailed off your tongue as you reached your high. You felt so high and yet so safe. Harry steadied you as your legs shook and kissed you senseless, to quieten your whines. He admired that you had been so willing for this and he would be lying if he said he didn’t have a raging hard-on right now.

“I love you,” you raced out quickly, “I love you.”

“I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips again and withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt. You picked up a napkin but he quite quickly took it away from you, throwing it to the other side of the table.

“What are you doing?” You whisper shouted, needing to clean yourself up.

“More like what are you doing?”

“Cleaning my mess.” You said frustratedly.

“Leave that to me.” He spoke whilst holding intense eye contact with you, bringing his fingers that were coated in your arousal to his lips and sucking them dry. Every last drop worked its way into his mouth and he salivated at the taste - the smell.

“Harry—”

“The bill Sir.” The waiter interrupted you without knowing. Harry took out his wallet and used his card on the card machine, before signing his name on the cheque as if to affirm that he has paid.

“Thank you.” Harry spoke kindly, completely different to how he was with you all but two minutes ago.

“Thank you Sir, Ma’am. Have a lovely rest of your evening.” And he wad gone again with his smile.

Harry turned to you with the largest grin on his face, “Oh we will.”

••••

“Oli stop eating the leftover lasagne it’s for mums lunch!”

Belle was rushing around trying to chill everything down. The party was so out of control that even Oli and Felix were wasted. Megan was blowing hot and cold with her too, so she had no idea where she stood with them.

People were everywhere. Too many people that it was becoming claustrophobic. Felix was currently playing beer pong with a group of his friends, Heather attached at his hip, whilst Oli was sitting on the kitchen countertop eating cold lasagne. The boy was like chuffing Garfield. Belle was doing her best to keep calm, but as the night progressed it started to become worse and worse as it got harder to control.

As Belle turned to leave the kitchen, her brother clearly not listening to her, she bumped into someone. Kyle. Fucking Kyle. The guy who had obsessed over her to the point where Harry was seriously considering getting a restraining order on him to protect his daughter. He was a straight A creep and Belle hadn’t even realised he’d been invited to this party. Then again, over half of these people had most definitely not been invited.

“Oh hey Isabelle.” He stressed her whole name, knowing how much she hated it. Well, she didn’t hate her name she just hated him saying her name.

“Go away Kyle.”

“But I just got here.”

“And now you can just leave. Party’s ending anyways.” Belle stood her ground, but her hands were shaking from being even remotely close to this guy. He was disgusting to the point where if you were stuck between having to choose between being with him or eating mouldy cheese, you’d eat the cheese on a fucking silver platter.

“Looks quite alive to me.”

“Well i’m shutting it down and you’re going to leave. Now.”

“You need to liven up Belle.” Kyle chuckled through his nose, making him look scary as he towered over Belle, “let me help you.” He leaned forwards to grab her arm but she was quick to push him away.

“No! Leave me alone!” Belle shouted, trying to dodge around him but he was quicker. He grabbed her arm tight and pulled her back to him, chest touching chest. “Get off me Kyle.” Belle squirmed in his hold, which only made Kyle happier - the creep.

“C’mon Bella, live a little.”

“My name’s not Bella and I told you to get the fuck off of me.” Belle pulled back with all her might, whilst kicking him square in the balls - probably hard enough so he’ll never be able to have children - and then drove her knee up to crack his nose - successfully. Damn, that felt good. Heavily badass, actually.

“You fucking psycho!” Kyle held his nose and his balls in pain, straightening himself up as if to launch himself with fury at Belle. Luckily for her the outburst between the pair had caught attention of people - including Oli and Felix.

Oli was quick to step in front of Kyle, Felix just behind him. “You dare lay a fucking finger on my sister and I swear to you you’ll regret it.” Oli threatened, fists curled tight at his sides.

Heather came to hug Belle, comforting as she cried through the after shock of the situation. She’d been so brave and handled herself so well though. “You okay?” She kindly asked.

“Y-yeah.” No.

Everyone was now watching. The music had been muted to the point where you could tell it was playing but you couldn’t tell which song it was. Friends of Oli and Felix were standing close by in case things got messy, which normally only happened between the two brothers and not this way. Doors could be heard opening and shutting as people came in and out from places to watch the debacle occur between the hosts of the party and the unwelcome visitor. Oli and Felix knew they had to be careful though, because one wrong video and it could badly effect their dad’s career. Belle shook in Heathers arms and wished this nightmare of an evening to be over.

“Oh the whore’s not worth it anyways.” Kyle laughed, rolling his eyes as he pointed towards Belle.

“The fuck did you just call my daughter?”

Oh fucking shit balls.

“Dad?” Belle asked warily, seeing his dad stood in the doorway of the front door, her mum standing close behind him with her hand tightly clutched to his. As much as Belle was terrified that her parents had busted them, she also felt safe in their presence.

“Oh and here comes perfect-dad-of-the-year Harry Styles to the rescue.” Kyle teased which made Felix move forward in protest of his words.

“Fix.” Harry sternly called his name, making his son stop and look towards his dad who was shaking his head with a soft smile. Harry walked over towards Belle first, you still clutched tightly to him. “You alright?” He asked sincerely, not looking cross or disappointed at all. Belle nodded quickly and kept her head pressed to Heather’s chest. Harry turned to see his boys, raising his eyebrows to wordlessly ask them the same question to which they nodded too.

Harry dropped your hand, leaving you to stand with your sons, and left your forehead with a kiss before making his way to Kyle. “You okay boys?” You asked again, even though you knew Harry just asked.

“Yeah. Are you mum?” Oli asked, coming to wrap his arm around his mums neck to comfort her. He was so kind and thoughtful, just like his dad.

“Listen up, Kyle.” Harry started, keeping a good distance between him and the boy, “If you ever come near my family again i’m ordering a restraining order. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. If you break that order you’ll be going to jail. Big league jail too. Again not a threat, a promise. So you’re going to leave my house, this property in its’ entirety and go home to sit in your room and think about whether you would prefer to be in a prison cell instead. Do you understand?”

Okay, you’d be lying if you said his authority didn’t turn you on.

“Y-yeah.” Kyle mumbled pathetically.

“I said do you understand?” Harry repeated again, clearly not satisfied with the answer given.

“Yes Mr Styles.” Kyle said more surely, before scramming from the house, from the party and from the neighbourhood.

“Now everyone out of my house before I call the police.” Everyone knew how that was not an empty threat and dashed out of his house. Some looked at him in awe, because this was probably their once and only chance of being in the presence of the Harry Styles. He sighed as he walked to the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter to think.

“Should we—” Belle started to talk but you cut her off.

“No, hunny. Let me go talk to your dad. You lot,” referring to your children and girlfriends who’d kindly stayed behind in support, “can go fetch some bin liners and start cleaning this all up.” You pointed around to the mess that was your house, before walking off to the kitchen.

You looked around at the mess. A broken vase. Litter everywhere. Half-drunken drinks left on the table. Bottle openers you definitely didn’t own before tonight. Trousers? You couldn’t help but giggle at the surrounding sight.

“What’s got you laughing?” Harry asked, still in his fancy shoes and fancy coat, you still in your fancy heels and your fancy coat. Yet, you were both standing in what looks like a garbage dump site. Harry moved his hand away from his face and looked at you with a blank expression.

“You were right!” You laughed.

“Your reaction as if that’s a bloody miracle, love, which kind of an ego crush, but continue.” He rolled his eyes and you rolled yours in response. You clicked your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he kept his wrapped around his own obviously still closing himself off.

“Our kids are being reckless and crazy.” You recalled dinners earlier conversation, smiling up at him in admiration.

“I didn’t actually mean it, it was just a quick way to make you feel better.” He groaned in frustration.

“Well gee thanks babe!” You laughed at the whole irony of this situation. “Harry, babe, look at me,” you had to used your hand to turn his cheek to face you, stroking his cheek to calm him, “adulthood - parenthood - doesn’t define the choices we have to make. We do. And our children, apart from that last little bit, seemed like they had the most freeing and most brilliant night yet! Let them be reckless H. Let them make mistakes. Just because this happened doesn’t make us bad parents, and it doesn’t make us bad parents if we decide no punishment—”

“Ha like that’s going to happen!” Harry cut you off and you glared at him to just shut up.

“Just shut up, you oaf. Let the kids live while they’re young.”

“You did not just reference one of my songs.” Harry looked to the ceiling as he smiled widely, before shortly laughing at how cheesy that was. “Oh my god Y/N!”

“What? Was is that bad?”

“Yes, babe. Yeah it really was.” He looked back down at you to see you smiling and he couldn’t help but cup your cheeks and kiss you silly. His perfect lips fit yours and you tasted him until you couldn’t breathe. “I love you.”

“I love you. Now go help clean up.” You ordered him, making him look at you confused.

“What the hell have I done to deserve this?”

“You booked the hotel for next weekend instead of this weekend you div. Now go.” You smacked his backside and he strolled back over to you and pushed you into the counter. You gasped at the sudden motion.

“Do that again and let’s see what happens.” He whispered dangerously against your lips.

“Go clean up and then see what’s waiting in our bedroom.” You bit your lip and tugged Harry’s hand to under your dress, giving him only a slight feel of how wet you were before letting his hand go and walking away.

“Kids, hand me a bloody bin bag. Now!”

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[static-fanatic-1]

Hello, I hope you are doing well today. I was wondering if I can get a semi-angst hc of Pakunoda, Illumi, Milluki, Silva, Chrollo, Kurapika and Shalnark + Setsuno, Overhaul, Chronostasis, Tamaki, Endeavor, Shinsou, Aizawa and Shiggaraki with a s/o who hates them, but once their children gets kidnapped they beg and cry to the boys/girls to find their child and bring them safely home. Hopes that makes sense. Please and thank you.

Pakunoda:

She hates seeing you in pain, in ANY pain, so this doesn’t sit well with her at all. It hurts that you hate her, but to her it doesn’t matter as much as her undying love for you. She is sweet, and she knows despite keeping you captive, you are cared for. This includes your and her child. She will tear the world to shreds with her lovely heels.

She will be more methodical in ending whoever took her child, and no harm will come to the sweet baby. She will not use this against you in anyway, she would rather you love her naturally. So when da baby is returned, she won’t tease you or ask for something in return. She just wants to comfort you both and tell you everything is okay now.

Illumi:

Like Paku, Illumi cares about both of you, just in a really different way. He “loves” his kids more as a tool and as a successor to his lineage, not like he loves you. So when his kid is taken, there will be hell to pay.

He doesn’t really think much on the fact you are begging him, though it is a nice change to your typical screaming. He won’t brag, boast, or use it against you, for the most part anyway. He might be robotic, but he still is smart. He will keep your children in mind next time you try anything too risky.

Milluki:

He doesn’t care about his kids, they are spoiled little shits in his eyes. He probably didn’t really want kids in the first place, but one thing led to another and here they are now. So when they are taken, he sees it as an inconvenience, but also an opportunity once he sees how distraught you are.

He makes it into a big deal and boasts about how only HE can save your kids. HE is the only reason you will get your little babies back. And don’t worry, he will make sure you inderstand that. He will ALWAYS use this against you at any moment of any day. He wants you to know you need him.

Silva:

He doesn’t care about your kids, to him they are an end to a means, and another way to keep you with him. So as much as he knows his kids can take care of themselves, or at least he wants them to be independent through whatever means, seeing you hurt makes him take initiative. You are devistated, fine, he’ll save your kids.

Silva makes quick work of whoever took your kids, and makes sure to savor it. Once he’s done, he lets you take a moment to be happy for your kids being safe, but don’t expect to be in the clear. You will have to give him something in return, and knowing his sex drive, you probably wouldn’t like it. But your kids are safe, so everything is fine, right?

Chrollo:

Like Silva, Chrollo doesn’t care about your kids. A means to an end, to keep you locked with him. Though, he really does care about you, so he will do anything to make you happy.

This means getting that little bundle of attention-stealing-shitness back. Anything for you to get on his good graces. Besides, he has the whole troupe that loves the kid, so they will all pitch in to find the little one. I don’t think he will use this against you, mainly because you should already knows nothing will get between the two of you, not even your child.

Shalnark:

Shalnark is a strange one, to me he seems like a mix between Chrollo and Pakunoda. He cares, a lot, but if anything was to come between you and him, he wouldn’t mind making a point. Still, seeing you in so much emotional pain makes him jump into action.

He calls up his best friends to help find the poor sap who took his and your kid. Yeah, they won’t last long. Shal takes great care in handling the little one to make sure they aren’t too scared. He also spends a lot of down time after to bond with the both of you. Maybe this wasn’t a good thing to you, but to him it only brought you closer together.

Kurapika:

Really big family man, whoever took your kid must have been the most stupid person to walk the earth. He is defiantly on your side with getting his kid back, so he won’t use this against you as much as the others might. Instead of bragging or boasting about how you need him to keep you safe, he will want a little something in return.

He might be on your side, desperately wanting his kid back, but he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to get a little treat from you. He will manipulate you to feel guilty, like it was somehow your fault, just to get something from you. Wether it be some bonding time, or something more suggestive, he will get it through manipulation. Of course he’d love to bond some more with your kids after he retrieves them, just don’t think you are safe around Kurapika.

Setsuno:

This poor guy had a terrible relationship before you, so there is no way in hell he would let what happened before happen again. He hates the fact you hate him, but he refrains from hurting you in anyway, this includes your kid. He will leave the room, break things, anything other than touching you and both of your kid.

When someone takes the baby, you aren’t the only one pissed off. Setsuno is furious, so he will do anything to get your kid back. He calls his friends just in case, and the three of them destroy whoever laid hands on his baby. Setsuno is happy to have everyone together again and he’ll take this time to bond with the both of you. Just don’t push him away or else he’ll remind you who saved your kid.

Overhaul:

Overhaul finds children to be dirty, they are nasty things that need so much attention. With that being said, to an extent, he treasures his kid. He wants them to be just like him, so he takes his time to teach them everything there is to know about ruling the underground. Again, his kid is an end to a means, but he does think of them a bit more than most of the others on this list.

When he kid is taken, he is frustrated for a few reasons. One is because he taught his kid to use their quirk (if they are old enough to have it by now), and two because he has to waste his time trying did of dirty things. Though, seeing you beg for him to save your baby makes it more worth his time. Much better than when you grit your teeth and turn the other way. So when he gets the baby back, he makes sure you understand what he went through to appease you.

Chronostasis:

Another one that actually likes his children and treasures them. Chronostasis is more of a family man, taking care of the children, getting groceries, the usual stuff to help around the house while you are there. He doesn’t keep you stuck, he just uses his profession to threaten you. But other than that he acts like a normal father when he doesn’t have work to do.

Taking his child is a really bad thing. He values work a lot, so he will put work first, so he will only leave to find his kid once overhaul gives him the go. He might get help, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He will tear anyone apart to find your baby. When he does, he brings them home and smiles at you, taking as much time as he is given to comfort the both of you. Everything can go back to normal now, just ignore the spots of blood on the bottom of his white jacket.

Tamaki:

Such a shy guy, he doesn’t do much to your hatred against him, he kinda just lets it happen while apologizing profusely. Though he doesn’t let you go. He does, genuinely, love his kid. In a way it gives him a sense of pride that he helped create such a beautiful baby. So when they go missing, and you grip his shirt and beg for him to find them. Tamaki is relieved you finally need him, but so frustrated at the same time.

He wants to sulk and cry through his frustration at loosing his kid, but your begging doesn’t allow that. Instead he asks his besties for help and makes sure to hurry. He’s so happy to get his baby back he can’t help the tears of joy falling from his face. When he comes back home you both cry and hold your baby as close as you possibly can.

Shinsou:

I think Shinsou has an inner demon when he is a Yandere, this is when it shows itself. He loves his kid, and is a really relaxed guy when it comes to the both of you. It’s just when his patience is pulled by someone out of his obsessive behaviors is when it becomes a problem.

He goes on his own, after all he is a hero not many know about, and his ability is insanely powerful. He will find the people resposible and tell them to “jump off this building” or “go kill yourself”. Things that will force them to get their hands dirty and stay away from his kid. He comforts his kid, tells them everything is okay now and that the two of them are going home to see you. Y’all can all watch a movie too, get take out and simply take it easy.

Aizawa:

He is almost exactly like Shinsou, or Shinsou is almost exactly Aizawa. The biggest difference is Aizawa has less patience, and isn’t afraid to get a little sadistic. With that said, you are more likely better “behaved”, though you still have some fight in you. Your kid is one of your joys in life, so when he comes home from work and sees you begging for your baby back, he’s happy.

He goes on his own and takes out whoever was involved. He doesn’t kill, he isn’t that reckless, but he definalty beats them to a bloody pulp until the police arrive. He does the paperwork, and then happily takes back his kid. Aizawa will make sure you know he did this for you and he will make sure you only think that. He loves his kid, a lot, but if you think you owe him more love, then that’s a win for him.

Endeavor:

Enji thinks his kids are weapons, I mean, that’s obvious right? He does care, but more as it would be a waste if something bad were to happen to them. Also, they are keeping you stuck with him. So yeah, when they are taken he gets pretty pissed about it.

Enji kinda rubs it in your face too, I mean you are begging for his help. You NEED him to save your kid. He won’t tell you he would get them back either way either, he wants you to think you owe him. So expect listening to whatever demands he wants from you. Not much time to appreciate your baby being safe.

Shigiraki:

Crusty man actually kinda likes his kid. In a way it’s like he has a distaste for them but can’t help but have a connection with them at the same time. Even Shigiraki doesn’t think he would be too distressed if something happened to his kid, but he was wrong. He takes it personally, and your begging makes him even more pissed. How dare they?!

Shigiraki makes a huge deal out of it, the entire league (those close) will be involved to cause chaos to the idiot who hurt his kid. It will be all on the news, how much carnage he caused, but not a single person will know it was because of his kid. He will boast about how he defeated the final boss for you and his kid, and he expects you to reward him. After you reward his efforts he will relax with the two of you, taking in the warmth from your love.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Eight-Part 2)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 20.5k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, oc struggles with her future, mentions of vibrator, mentions of cum eating, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation, swallowing

Notes: woooaahh we got only one chapter left guys! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous

~~~~~~~~~~~~

November

It shouldn’t be this hard. Figuring out your entire future as a human being should not be this fucking hard, but it is. It’s not that you mind making cookies, or that you look down on yourself for it but it’s not what you want to do forever. Actually, you aren’t sure you want to do anything forever. You wish you could just travel, and that’s how you live life.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks from besides you. You two are at your favorite coffee stop, Jungkook is working on his laptop for work and you are journaling in your cute pink notebook.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell something is bothering you…” Jungkook closes his laptop and gives you his full attention.

“It’s nothing.” You say nonchalantly.

“I’m all ears baby.”

“Okay…” you set your pen down and look into Jungkook’s eyes.

“I’m struggling with what I want to do.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, my whole fucking future. I don’t know what it is I want!” your head falls into your hands, “I hate marketing.”

“Wait, what? You hate…what you got a degree in?”

“I kind of told you before…I only got a degree in it because I knew I would be able to find a job in the field. But that’s not exactly going as planned.”

Jungkook bites down on his lips as he watches you, you look lost and confused and frustrated. It makes his heart hurt.

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Forever but it only got worse after graduation.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“No offense Jungkook but you kind of stopped talking to me for three of those months.” You snap at him and he winces, “Sorry…” you shake your head, “I’m just irritated right now.”

“How can I help?”

“You can’t.” you groan, “No one can help me. I’m fucked.”

“y/n that’s not true.”

“What do you want in life? What makes you happy?”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. That’s a part of my problem, I don’t fucking know.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He reaches his hands over the table to hold on to yours.

“Easy for you say,” you snap again, “You are living your dream. The film company you interned for during college hired you on as a permanent employee.” You complain.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you y/n.”

“Right, we can feel bad for me but you don’t get what I’m going through.”

Jungkook winces again at the sharp stab of your words, “I’m trying to understand though.”

“Forget it.”

“No. y/n, I want to help.”

“Maybe I need to go home.”

“Huh?” Jungkook’s hold tightens on your hand. “Go home?”

“Just for a visit. I miss my parents, I think. They may be able to help.”

“For how long?”

“Just for a few days, nothing crazy. Don’t worry, you won’t miss me too much.”

“I always miss you.”

You laugh at Jungkook’s pouting face. He looks so cute.

“Why don’t…why don’t you come with me?” You try asking. “You have weekends off, right? We can go next weekend?”

“Wait,” Jungkook looks at you with his bunny grin. “You want me to come? And meet your parents?”

“Isn’t it a little weird, you’re my best friend but they’ve only ever heard about you. So yes, you can come and meet my parents.”

“Are you sure?” his grin widens. “You really want me to go? For a whole weekend?”

“I mean, as long as Vanessa is okay with it…”

“I’ll talk to her about it,” Jungkook smile fades just the slightest. “But I am sure it will be fine.”

“My mom thinks you’re very handsome.”

“Your mom is on to something.” He jokes.

“My parents are a little protective over me…just a warning. And they might tease us…only because you’re a boy!”

“Tease us how?”

“Oh come on, you know how it is…I bring a boy home…blah blah blah.”

Realization hits Jungkook as he sips on his coffee and he starts laughing.

“Like, they’ll want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

You and Jungkook share a look that you don’t really know what it could mean but you tear your eyes away from him and pick up your pen again.

“We can decide on the details later, talk to Vanessa first.”

“Got it.”

~~~~~

“Teaching nine year old’s is easier than teaching you.” Jimin says out of breath, his hands on his hips. “How do you not get this? Move your left foot here then your hands go…” he tries reteaching you the steps, “No, not there.” He groans out.

“Jimin, it’s hard! Use someone else at your test subject!”

“Jungkook is busy with what’s her face, Trina and Holly are doing god knows what, so tonight you are all I’ve got.”

“Thanks, I’m flattered. Also, you literally have a million friends.” You point out.

“But you’re my favorite.” He winks at you, he runs a hand through his hair and he sighs out again. “Let’s take a break.”

“Sounds good to me.” You chirp happily. “So, did Jungkook tell you he might be coming with me to my parents this weekend?”

“He what now?” Jimin gives you a concerned look, “Babe…”

“What?”

“Actually,” Jimin allows a smirk to play on his lips, “I like this idea, maybe it will get you guys one step closer to getting together.” He shrugs.

“That’s—that’s not the point. I’m going because I miss home and honestly it would be nice to have Jungkook there but also he’s never met them!”

“Yeah, that’s weird.”

“But I told him to get the ‘ok’ from Vanessa.”

“You’re so respectful. I could never.”

You two plop down onto Jimin’s sofa, a water bottle in hand as you gulp it down. The fresh liquid making you feel revived again. It’s been a couple days since you saw Jungkook, you asked to hang out tonight but he already had plans with Vanessa. You try so hard not to be hurt by that because why would you? What were you expecting? For him to cancel his plans with her and run off into the sunset with you? Yes, you silently think to yourself.

“What made you want to go home anyway?” Jimin asks, tilting his head to get a good look at you.

“Quarter life crisis, no biggie.”

“Makes sense.” Jimin stretches his arms out over his head and yawns. “What’s the crisis?”

“All my friends are passionate about what they do and here I am.”

“Babe, don’t compare yourself to others…I hate when you do that. Also, I’m not sure my passion is teaching clumsy nine year old’s how to do a simple dance move.” Jimin huffs out, “I wish I was the one on stage…”

“Jimin…sorry, I know this isn’t really what you wanted…”

“It’s okay…the kids are cute, I guess. And they’re faster learners compared to you.”

“Hey!” you fuss, “These kids are in advanced classes, okay?”

“Babe, this is for beginners.”

“Whatever.”

“So, marketing ain’t it huh?” Jimin asks and you nod your head, “I could of told you that five minutes after I met you.”

“Maybe you should of.”

“But you already knew it wasn’t for you though…why did you keep at it?”

“I don’t know anymore.” You whine, “I wish I could just do something a little meaningful then have enough money to travel!”

“Why don’t you teach English abroad?” Jimin turns on his side to face you, “You get to travel and do something meaningful.”

Your head tilts to the side as you process his words, was that kind of a good idea?

“Hm…” you bite on your lip. “That’s—that’s not a bad idea actually.”

“But you would leave us all behind, you get that, right?” Jimin chuckles, “Not sure Jungkook would let you leave.”

“It’s a lot to process and think about, but it’s a cool option.” You admit, stretching your arms out in front of you, “Shit, that dance was a work out!”

“You barely did anything though…”

“I did enough to make me feel this soreness creeping in.” you defend yourself quickly, “So, do you think Vanessa will give Jungkook the ‘ok’ to come with me?”

“I don’t see why not, she doesn’t seem like the controlling type, right?”

“Not really…she’s kind of odd. I’m trying so hard to understand her but she makes it kind of difficult.”

“Didn’t you say she didn’t want to interact with any of us at JK’s party because she’s only there for him?”

“Yup.”

“Damn, I don’t know if I should be mad at that or like, salute her for it.”

You start laughing and Jimin joins you but tells you he’s serious, you just keep laughing and nod your head.

“I kind of get that.” You giggle. “I want to ask Jungkook if she has some sort of social anxiety, it’s the only thing I can come up with on why she’s so…her.”

“Why don’t you?” Jimin asks, and he’s right, why don’t you? You’re just afraid of offending him about her and you don’t want to deal with that…

“I don’t know.”

“Just because you’re trying to be cool about everything doesn’t mean you have to try and be friends with her…it doesn’t seem like she wants to make any friends with any of us, so don’t try to push it.” Jimin advices and you hate that maybe he’s right.

“I know but…”

“No but’s!” Jimin cuts in, “The only butt that matters is mine.” He says giving his ass a little spank. You chuckle and hit his arm and shake your head at him.

“Fine.”

“So, what would you do if Jungkook confessed his feelings to you?”

You lift your head to face Jimin, your eyes filled with surprise. You close them and shake your head a little bit and try to form some words very pathetically.

“W-What? W-Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you asking that?”

“Just curious…” Jimin sucks in his thick bottom lip and pouts.

“I would…I don’t know what I would do.” You respond honestly. Jimin rolls his eyes and stands from the couch and places his hands on his hips.

“You would return his feelings wouldn’t you? Jump in his arms? Kiss him?”

“Jimin…” your tone warns him to chill out, “I would be shocked probably. But if he was serious…of course, I would do all those things…” you finish shyly.

“Perfect. Now just tell him all of that.”

“Jimin…”

“You have til the end of the year.” Jimin states confidently, “then I am forcing you two in a room, revealing everything and making you talk.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Mark my fucking words bish.”

Dude…Jimin sounds and looks fucking serious.

“Jimin seriously, don’t do that. Don’t put me on the spot like that.”

Jimin plugs his ear holes with his pointer fingers and starts singing a beautiful ‘lalala’ and proceeds to ignore you as you try to get his attention.

“Jimin, seriously!”

“y/n.” he takes his fingers out and becomes more serious, “I said mark my fucking words.”

~~~~~~

Jungkook and Vanessa lazily lay on her bed, his arm draped across her waist while she plays some music game on her phone.

“I’m sorry again.” Jungkook whispers out, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

“It’s okay.” Vanessa says softly, “You just aren’t in the mood tonight, and that’s okay.” She continues to look at her phone, her fingers going at it on her game.

“Maybe we can try again la—”

“My Jungkookie just doesn’t want me tonight.”

“Vanessa…don’t say it like that.”

She lifts her head up to smile at him, it’s one of those coy, secretive smiles and Jungkook feels worse.

“So about this weekend, you’re wanting to go with y/n to her parent’s house?”

“I don’t have to go, I know we had plans on Saturday.”

“No, no. Don’t be silly, I don’t mind.” She says smoothly, “It sounds like a good idea.”

“Good idea how?”

“Oh nothing.” She says, going back to her game. “You should go.”

“Okay, I’ll let her know…” Jungkook pulls out his phone to send you a text. You text back within seconds sending him the thumbs up emoji. He feels his entire chest go warm at the thought of going with you this weekend.

He’s never met a girl’s parents, not like this. Not with someone that means as much to him as you do. So he feels as nervous as he does excited. He wants to look his best, he wants to present himself maturely. What does that even mean? Not even Jungkook knows but he thinks it makes sense.

“I can go down on you Vanessa…” Jungkook offers, still feeling guilty.

“No need, I’m not really in the mood either.” She says nonchalantly, too focused on her game at hand.

He has vowed that he won’t think of you while being with Vanessa and usually that would be no problem but tonight…he couldn’t get in the mood at all. All he wanted to do was think about you.

Sex with you…is just different. It feels so fucking good on all levels physical but also all levels emotional. He knows exactly what it feels like to have his cock between your lips and down your throat, he knows exactly what it feels like to fondle your breasts and suck on them too. He knows exactly what you taste like, and god, it is his favorite flavor. He knows exactly how you sound when you’re being fucking pounded and exactly how you sound when you come.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook keeps asking you, his fingers bunching up your hair and you nod pathetically.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you? Since I fucking met you.” He admits, his fingers traveling down to your panties, he pushes them aside as he dips a finger into your wet hole. You moan out, your moan loud and high pitched and Jungkook can’t help but smirk.

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Another finger.” You practically fucking beg, and Jungkook complies quite easily. He slips another finger into your greedy fucking pussy and you yelp. He moves his fingers inside you so fucking expertly, making your toes curl.

“You make me feel so good.” You whimper out.

Jungkook can’t help but reach down and rub his aching cock through his briefs, he wants to feel good too. He is absolutely aching for you, wanting to be touched by you so badly.

“Stop touching yourself” you command and Jungkook being the good boy he is, listens.

“Make me come, Jungkook.” And once again, he complies. He makes you come all over his fingers and then he makes you come again on his tongue and then for a third time, he makes you come on his tongue again making you feel fucking spent.

“Lay on your back.” You order and his eyes go wide with excitement. You lay down next to him and your fingers very delicately dance across his lower stomach. He sighs out heavily, releasing long breaths one after the other. Your fingers reach the waist band of his briefs and you begin to slowly drag them down. His cock springs free and your mouth waters at the sight. There’s no way he is this blessed. He’s so incredibly long and thick, the head of his cock swollen and leaking with precum.

“You wanted to touch yourself right?” you tease. “Now’s your chance.”

“W-What?”

“I want you to touch yourself, Jungkook. You can use my juices as lube,” you say, spreading your legs, your own cum sticky against your inner thighs.

Jungkook’s doe eyes turn sharp as he stares at you and he whimpers. Fucking whimpers. He is quick to gather your juices in his hand and start jacking himself off. He holds on to his cock tightly, rubbing it viciously.

“Ah. Ah.” He groans out, his eyes never leaving yours as he touches himself.

“Such a good boy, Jungkook. God, can you imagine if this gorgeous cock was in my mouth right now?” you whisper in his ear.

“Can you imagine my pretty pink lips wrapped around you, my head bobbing up and down? Can you hear me choke? Choke on this pretty cock?”

“So close, y/n. please don’t stop.”

“You’re not allowed to come yet. Can you imagine fucking me, Jungkook?

“God, yes, yes, yes.”

“Can you imagine thrusting into my pussy? My walls getting tight around your cock? Making us both come?”

“Fuck, y/n. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.”

You raise yourself, leaning away from his ear and smirk down at him.

“Since you were so good for me, I’ll reward you. I’ll let you come. And I’ll let you come down my throat.”

You move until you’re on top of him, you lean down until you’re replacing his hand with your mouth. He groans out loudly when he feels his cock enter your warm mouth and you moan into the feeling.

“Fuuuuuck.”

And Jungkook is coming so fucking hard, he doesn’t think he has ever come this hard before. He shoots his cum down your throat and you swallow it all, not even a drop left behind on your lips.

You rise from his cock and smile down at him and he lifts himself up and his lips crash into yours.

Jungkook pulls away for a moment, his eyes dark and his voice low,

“Now I am going to fuck you.”

“Since I’ll be gone this weekend, should we go on a date tomorrow night?”

Vanessa pauses her game and looks straight ahead, she zones out for a few seconds before she’s quietly clearing her throat and looking Jungkook’s way.

“No…I have plans, sorry.”

“Plans?”

“Yes, plans.” The ‘s’ leaves her lips sounding so silky. “You should find something else to do.” Then vanessa exits her game to send a quick text to someone. After a minute or two passes she’s looking at him again.

“y/n’s free tomorrow night, you should just hang with her.”

Jungkook pushes his head back in disbelief, did…

“Did you text y/n…for me?”

“Yes.” Vanessa looks at him, her small eyes going wide, “I was just trying to find you something to do.”

Jungkook stares at her in shock and then bursts out into laughter.

“Sorry, sorry. I just…never thought you would do something like that but somehow it feels on brand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her innocent voice making Jungkook smile.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Okay, I’ll send her a text…”

Jungkook 10:13pm

So, I hear youre free tmrw night lol

y/n 10:13pm

you hear right lmaaoo

Jungkook 10:14pm

Should we do something?

y/n 10:14pm

I think Jin says he’s having a small cookout at his place, should we go?

Jungkook 10:15pm

Sounds good, I’ll drive. Pick you up at 6?

y/n 10:16pm

yay! Yeah 6 works for me. :)

Jungkook slides his phone into his pocket and looks at Vanessa with a confused expression…

“Why do you want me to hang with y/n?”

“She’s your best friend.” She responds easily. “Plus, since I am busy I feel bad to leave you hanging.”

“You’re not seeing him…right?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am seeing.” She opens the music game app again and starts focusing on beating her last score.

Jungkook sighs out in defeat, sometimes talking to Vanessa gets him nowhere. He pulls out his phone again and checks the time.

“Maybe I should head home…” He begins to say, “I’ll text you throughout the weekend and I’ll see you after.”

“Don’t be rude and be on your phone while you’re in her parents company.” Jungkook scoffs, that’s super rich coming from her.

“Okay, I won’t text so much, but I will see you after the weekend okay?”

“Sure.” She uses one hand to wave him off but he still leans over to kiss her cheek.

~~~~~

You still can’t get over just how huge Jin’s house is! You are currently lost trying to find the bathroom again. You open up a door to a bedroom and get reminded of the night you were with Tae. It’s the same room. Wow, that feels like a lifetime ago.

You continue strolling down the hall until you come to the last door—the bathroom.

You use it quickly and head back outside to join the rest of your friends. Jin saved a seat for you next to him and you can’t help but smile.

“Jungkook says you two are heading to your parents this weekend!” Jin exclaims excitedly.

“I wanna meet your parents too!” Hobi whines, “I am great with parents!”

“I’m sure you two will have a lovely time.” Namjoon joins the conversation.

“By the way y/n…” Jin looks awkwardly to the side, “I invited Tae, I know you two are broken up…”

“Oh no, it’s okay. We’re friends.”

At this, Jungkook ears perk up, “Friends? Since when?”

“It just happened like that.” You shrug.

Jin claps his hands together, “Perfect. And then Jimin should be here by now, let me call him.”

Jin takes out his phone and dials for Jimin.

“So, you two are friends now?” Jungkook pries, “Since when?”

“Since a little while ago. You should think about chilling out too.”

“Pshh.”

“Jimin is arriving, let me go let him in, I’ll be right back.” Jin says, standing from his chair.

“So y/n, how’s the job hunting going?” Namjoon asks, his leg crossed over the other as he leans forward to give you his full attention.

“Umm…” you bite your lip, Jungkook goes rigid at his question…knowing this is uncomfortable for you.

“it’s sort of on pause,” you admit, “Yeah, on pause.”

“Oh thank god!” Namjoon laughs, “I thought I was the only one!”

“I told you, you weren’t.” Hobi laughs too, patting Namjoon on the back.

“You too?” you asks, sighing out in relief. “It’s annoying, isn’t it?” you also laugh.

Jungkook visibly relaxes as he watches you chilling and having a good time.

“Look who else is here!” Jin comes back with Jimin, and behind Jimin is Taehyung and also…Yoongi?

“Yoongs?” you give him a confused look before breaking out into a smile.

“Hey everyone, nice to see you all again.” Yoongi gives everyone his gummy smile and a small wave of the hand.

“Yoongi!” Hobi yells out, “I’m so glad Tae brought you!”

You remember them two hitting it off at Jungkook’s birthday party, so you nod in approval.

“Hi Tae, hi Jimin.”

“Hello beautiful.” Jimin comes to you, leans down and hugs you. Taehyung waves at you excitedly.

“Hi Jungkook.” Taehyung offers a greeting quite awkwardly but Jungkook nods his head and smiles,

“Hey man.”

You tilt your head to look at Jungkook, surprise written all over your face as you smile wide at him.

“The gangs all here!” Jin yells out, the happiness evident in his voice. “Let’s start cooking!”

The evening sun is your favorite, the way it sets the sky on fire with its beautiful rays of gold. It gets really chilly, especially at night since it is the middle of November. You stand next to the pool in the backyard when you feel a jacket get draped over your shoulders.

“Hi Jungkook.” You say without looking who it is, somehow you just know.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks, coming to your side.

“Life, and everything in it.”

You turn around to get a look at all the guys, Jin and Namjoon at the grill, Yoongi and Hobi discussing something dealing with music, Tae and Jimin playing rock, paper, scissors and Jungkook here at your side. You feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great friends. These 7 men making it hard to leave.

“I’ve been thinking about teaching English abroad…nothing is set in stone, it’s just an idea. But I kind of like it.”

“Abroad? Like away from here? Away from me?” Jungkook whispers out as he realizes what that means.

“It’s just an idea.”

Jungkook looks at your side profile and smiles, he leans into your side and wraps the jacket even more snug against your body.

“Whatever will make you happy y/n.” he says softly, and you know he means it.

“Let’s go join the other guys.” You say, you grab a hold of Jungkook’s hand and you two walk towards the other boys. They’re loud, rumbunctious and some of your favorite people. You couldn’t feel more at home and at peace.

“Okay, so who wants a sausage? I cooked them perfectly.” Jin shows a plate of meat, showcasing how absolutely perfect they are to everyone.

“Hey, I helped.” Namjoon pouts.

“Yeah, he……….’helped’” Jimin uses air quotes emphasizing ‘help’.

“Hey I did!”

“Moral support barely counts as help dude.” Hobi says, cracking up.

“Fine, nobody eat this hamburger patty,” he points to one single patty. “Because I cooked it.”

“Nobody wants to eat that hamburger patty.” Taehyung teases.

“I’ll eat your hamburger patty.” You chirp.

“Kiss ass.” Yoongi chuckles, walking up next to the grill. “Oh Jin, don’t forget to give me your number later so we can plan that fishing trip.”

“You two are planning a fishing trip?” You eye Yoongi, “I see you’re making friends.”

“Shut up.” He smiles shyly.

“So Jungkook,” Taehyung faces Jungkook and smirks, “Are you nervous about meeting y/n’s parents?”

“Yeah, Jungkookie, are you nervous?” Hobi chips in.

Jungkook’s eyes fall to the ground as he chews on his lips, he scratches the back of his neck and smiles softly.

“Maybe a little.”

“Why?” you ask, leaning into Jungkook’s frame, “Nothing to be nervous about.”

“Are you sure y/n?” Yoongi begins to tease you, “You are their little ‘miracle’ baby.”

“Shut up!” you laugh, “It will be fine, Jungkook. I promise.”

“I’m not too worried.” He says, he looks down at the ground still, his smile growing.

~~~~~~

You wait by your front door with a small suitcase in hand, humming some song. Jungkook should be here at any moment! He said he was on his way after work about 15 minutes ago and you know it shouldn’t take too long.

You cannot wait to see your parents, if you’re honest. You haven’t visited them in almost half a year! What you need is your parent’s loving embrace and also their wise words.

And it is pretty damn exciting you get to finally introduce your best friend to them. It’s a 4 hour drive, so you have a lot to catch Jungkook up on, you know, what your parents are even like up close and personal.

Your phone starts buzzing, and you pull it from you back pocket to see Jungkook sent a text that he has arrived.

“See you, Holly!” you yell out, but she’s in her room with the music on so you doubt she hears you. You think she said Trina is staying over for the weekend, so you know she won’t be lonely without you.

You make your way to Jungkook’s car (he offered to drive to your parents, which you do not mind in the least.) and see him waiting outside of it for you. He’s leaning against the car like a fucking stud. Yes, you just said fucking stud. Because that’s what he looks like. You hate that your god damn vagina reacts first! That bitch is booming as you eye him up and down. His tight jeans, chunky boots and striped sweater are a good look on him. His hair is pushed away from his forehead, split down the middle and he looks so fucking hot.

“Hi.” You call out, joining him at his car.

“Hey there.” He says cooly, grabbing your suitcase from you. He opens the back door and sets it inside next to his, “You ready?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yup” you pop the ‘p’ and smile back at him.

“Okay and my mom is sweet, I swear. But she sort of has no filter. My dad’s really laid back and wont tease as much…probably.” You say, stuffing your mouth with bagged popcorn.

“Probably?” Jungkook chuckles, he reaches for a handful of popcorn himself.

“Meaning he will probably let my mom do all the talking for the most part and he will only make somecomments.”

“What sort of comments should we expect?”

Suddenly, you feel your cheeks flush and you become a little shy.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” You whisper, digging in the bag for more of the snack.

Jungkook laughs at you, he thinks you’re being too cute right now. He turns his head to get a look at you and he smiles.

“Okay baby.”

“And maybe don’t call me ‘baby’ in front of my parents…they will definitely get the wrong idea.”

Jungkook playfully raises a brow at you, “And what idea is that?” he teases but it goes over your head.

“Jungkook.” You groan out, “Use your head.”

“Honestly, I’m just excited to meet your parents.” Jungkook admits happily, “I wish I could have introduced you to mom.”

“…Yeah, I would have liked to have met her. She raised you really well.”

“Honestly, she would have adored you. And…dad would have really liked you too.”

You retreat your hand out of the popcorn bag and wipe your dirty fingers on your jeans, you lick the remainder off.

“What was your mom like?”

At this Jungkook beams, his smile so bright and beautiful.

“Mom was an angel. Want to know the first time I lied to her?” Jungkook asks excitedly, “And how she reacted? It was like a movie.”

“Sure.” You chuckle.

“I was in the 8th grade,” he begins but you cut him off.

“You didn’t lie until 8th grade? That’s hard to believe.”

“I was a really good kid!” he whines. “Anyway, me and two of my buddies made plans to hang out but they wanted to hang out with this group of girls…at a girls house. I didn’t know if I was allowed at a girls house…so I lied and said we were all going to a carnival.” Jungkook starts cracking up as he recalls the memory.

“Mom believed me, gave me $20 for the wrist band to have access to all the rides, you know? Well, one of my friends wasn’t allowed at a girls house so he lied and said he was going to be at a birthday party at my house. Anyway we went to the girls house and all hung out, very innocent, I swear.” He continues laughing, his eyes crinkling.

“Anyway one of the girls mom was dropping me and that buddy off at my house when we see my mom pulling up at the same time while his mom was already parked in front of my house! Oh my god it was awful.”

“Holy hell, then what happened?” you ask.

“Well, we say thanks and get out of the car and he rushes to his moms car and my cousins were outside in my front yard talking to his parents about how there was no birthday party here.”

“And then?”

“My mom asked what was going on? I said my buddy wasn’t allowed at the carnival so we lied. But then my older cousin goes ‘Where’s your wrist band at Jungkook?’ And I wanted to strangle her! How could she out me!!! So I broke down crying to my mom and told her the truth.” He laughs, then he smiles fondly. “She told me it’s okay and that she forgives me. She said it’s not a big deal to hang out at girl’s houses as long as they’re just friends and I should never lie to her again.”

“Wow, an angel indeed.” You smile at Jungkook and he catches it from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah.” He smiles back.

“Where else my mom? She would of kicked my ass.” You laugh out loud and Jungkook joins you.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

It’s a little after 8pm when you finally arrive to your childhood home, it’s nothing fancy or big or tremendous in any shape or form but hey, it’s home.

Jungkook pulls into the driveway and you notice your parents car isn’t here so you pull out your phone and call your mother.

Apparently they went to go pick up dinner for you four, but there’s a bit of a wait so they’ll be home in a little while. You tell her you understand, and remind her you still have a key.

“They’ll be home in a bit, why don’t we go inside and I can show you around?”

“Sounds good.” Jungkook has the car in park, and he’s quick to turn off the ignition. He gets out of the car and opens the back door to grab both of your suitcases.

“Jesus woman, what did you pack?” Jungkook complains.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.” You usher him inside as you’re opening the front door.

It smells like your moms apple cinnamon candles have been lit up all day, the scent bringing you back to your childhood days. It smells like home, you can’t help but grin as you enter through.

“Let’s start by putting our stuff in our rooms!” you begin walking up the creaky stairs and Jungkook follows you with your bags in hand.

“This is your room,” you open the door to some lousy guest room but the bed is made and it smells nice. Jungkook nods while setting his suitcase down.

“And this…” you walk out and go to the room right next door, “is my room.”

Jungkook eyes go wide as he enters your room, he sees the posters on your walls, your baby pink duvet with a million pillows and the string of fairy lights above your bed and window.

“This is pre college y/n?” he asks, amused.

“Yup.”

“Oh my god, you had a boy band phase?” he touches the many posters on your wall.

“Who said I ever got out of it?” you tease.

Jungkook smiles as he observes your room, walking around slowly like he has all day. His fingers drag across your desk and all the things that occupy its space until he stops when he is touching a journal.

“A diary?” His amusement is out of the roof by now. “Let me read.” He asks with playful, pleading eyes.

“Hell to the no!” you rush to his side and grab the journal. “I don’t know what the fuck is in here.”

“Then it’s fun for both of us!” Jungkook reasons, “Let’s see what was in teenage y/n’s mind.”

“Probably lame stuff, I wasn’t very interesting.”

“I’ll see about that,” he takes the journal back and begins opening the journal and you grumble, trying to object. But in the end you let him open the journal, you wait patiently to be totally embarrassed.

“Okay this is from senior year…” he says, “Ryan wasn’t here today…” Jungkook starts laughing, “I was going to tell him I like him but it’s like the universe doesn’t want me to.” He reads out in a girly voice and you cringe. “Should I just move on?” he mocks.

“Okay, that’s enough!” you try reaching for the journal, your arms getting tangled with Jungkook’s. He can’t stop laughing as you whine out loud, your body bumping into his as your arms continue to battle one another.

“Jungkook!” you cry out, “Seriously?!”

You two continue to wrestle for the journal, spinning around until your feet tangle too much with his and he’s bumping into your bed, he falls over bringing you down with him.

You land on top of Jungkook, settling between his spread legs. The laughing and screaming absolutely stops when you find yourself in this position. Jungkook face is centimeters from yours, your breaths hot and fast and mingling together, he looks into your eyes with a troubled look. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but follow his movement.

“y/n…” he whispers out, still out of breath from playing around.

You look into his eyes again and he’s gone completely dark. His pupils start blowing out and his breaths become harsher.

“Jungkook…” You say lowly, your voice even surprising you. “Oh,” you blink at him when you feel his member hardening against your core.

Jungkook gulps, as if embarrassed. His eyes dart all around the room until they’re back on you.

“Sorry I—”

“I should get up.” You whisper.

Jungkook gulps again, his spit making his Adam’s Apple bob. “Yeah.”

But you don’t move, you continue to lay on top of him, you close your eyes as you feel his dick poking you at your center. You hate yourself but you can’t help the fact that you’re breathing deeper than usual and you really hate yourself when you grind yourself rather gently into Jungkook’s crotch.

And you really hate yourself when you hear Jungkook fucking moan. A real life moan escapes his parted lips. Your eyes shoot open to see his screwed shut. He lightly thrusts upward in response, his strained cock hitting your clit just right that you whimper out. You immediately throw your hand over your mouth and regret everything until Jungkook moans again.

Fuck, what do you do? You want to keep going and you almost do when—

“Honey! We’re home!”

You quickly scramble off Jungkook and stand to your feet. Fuck, your parents are home.

Jungkook awkwardly stands up and tries to adjust his pants so his fucking boner isn’t totally visible. He does not want to meet your parents with a fucking boner. No way in hell. He’s got to think of gross things. Diarrhea. Yeah, he will think of people shitting themselves, that’s pretty gross.

“Coming!” you yell out. You smooth down your clothes and your hair and turn to face Jungkook. “Ready?”

He smiles kind of awkwardly but nods his head yes regardless.

You two exit the bedroom and head down the stairs, your parents waiting at the bottom.

“If it isn’t my pain in the ass?” your mother’s jolly laugh fills the room as she goes in to embrace you.

“Hi mom.” You say into her neck, you can smell her sweet perfume and it reminds you of home times a million.

“You mean your miracle baby! Our miracle baby!” your dad chimes in gleefully, going in to hug both you and your mom.

“It’s a miracle she hasn’t killed me yet.” Your mother comments playfully, “Going a whole half year without seeing her mother?”

“It has been since May hasn’t it?” Your dad asks. “Too long.”

“And you must be Jungkook! The boy our daughter ditched us for on Christmas!” your mom pushes you to the side and goes in to hug Jungkook.

He stumbles back in surprise, but wraps his arms around your mother with his bunny grin plastered on his face.

“That’s me.” He laughs.

“Next time, just come here for Christmas, okay?” Your mom pouts playfully.

“Now, that’s not a bad idea.” Your father cuts in, extending his hand out for Jungkook to shake.

“Nice to meet you Mr.y/L/n.” Jungkook goes in to shake his hand with a firm hold, “and of course you too Mrs.y/L/n. “ Jungkook smiles in her direction.

“My goodness,” your mother swoons, “You’re so handsome!” then she turns to you, “He’s so handsome y/n. How haven’t you snagged him yet?”

“You two aren’t already a couple?” your father adds in.

“Mom! Dad! No!” you run a hand through your hair, “I told you already a million times on the phone, we are friends. Best friends.”

“That’s too bad…” your mom says, “I would like him for a son in law.”

“Yes, it’s too bad.” Your dad continues where she is going, “He’s got a firm handshake.”

“You guys don’t even know him.” you deadpan.

Jungkook only chuckles as he watches you interact with your parents. He wishes he had this kind of relationship with his parents but he’s glad you do.

“Are you guys ready for dinner or what?” Your mom picks up the bag of food off the entry way table and brings it to her nose, “Smells delicious.” She sings with a smile.

“Lets eat honey.” Your dad gestures your mom to the kitchen and then gives you and Jungkook a wink. “Come on kids.”

You didn’t know coming home would feel this good. Just being in the same room as your parents makes you feel whole again. Talking on the phone every week just isn’t enough.

You and Jungkook set up the table as your parents start taking the food out of the bag, they place it in the center of the table and your greedy little hands can’t help but pick at the side dishes.

“Hungry?” Jungkook teases.

“Starved.” You respond.

“Well, let’s all sit down and dig in!” Your father pulls out a chair for your mother so she can sit, ever the gentleman.

The food is delicious. You really wanted your moms home cooking but she promised you that’s for tomorrow night. You eat to your hearts content, getting so full. You’re not just full of food but full of your parents love and joy. Jungkook laughs along to your mom and dad’s stories and even shares some of his own. You guys talked about your group of friends and how you’re each others support systems.

Your parents are ecstatic to hear you have such great friends where you live, they even promise to go visit you soon so they can happily meet everyone. You agree wholeheartedly and stuff your face with more food. The night goes on like this for quite some time, everyone yawning but no one wanting to go to sleep.

“Let’s clean up and take this party to the living room.” Your mom suggests.

“I’ll clean up mom.”

“Me too.” Jungkook offers as well.

“Good kids.” Your dad says with a chuckle and heads to his designated spot (The recliner in the living room.)

“Are you having fun?” You ask Jungkook once your parents are out of the kitchen.

“I’m having a really nice time y/n.” Jungkook blushes as he answers, he fucking blushes and you feel the heat creep up your cheeks as well.

“I told you, you had nothing to be nervous about.”

“I’m still nervous, to be honest. But it feels nice actually.” He admit, his blush only deepening.

You two reach for the drying towel at the same time, your fingers brushing against his and you feel a spark of electricity.

“Sorry.” You sputter out, “You take it.”

“Okay…” Jungkook feels his face get even more red, just brushing fingers with you making him feel hot and dizzy.

“I think it’s clean enough,” you wipe your hands dry on your jeans, “Let’s go.”

The living room is as cozy as you have always remembered it to be. The recliner that your dad always falls asleep in is in the same spot as always, the two love seats taking one corner of the room and the TV on the center of the back wall. You decide to sit next to your mom on one of the love seats, you immediately drop your head on to her shoulder and breathe her in.

“What’s wrong my miracle?” she asks softly. “What’s going on?”

You suck in a sharp breath and start sniffling. Yup, you have decided on being a baby.

“I—” Your eyes immediately water and you give your mom a pathetic look, “I don’t know what I am doing with my life.”

Jungkook watches you and he frowns, he wishes he had all the answers for you.

“Oh baby,” your mom cradles your head, “I’m an old woman and even I have thoughts like that.” She laughs. “You’re going to figure it out, even if it’s not right now.”

“How do you know?” you look up at her with snot running down your nose.

“Do you remember when you were in high school you went from being in the drama club to the art club to the debate team to the…god, who knows what? You just kept jumping from one thing to another but then you finally found what you liked. Which was, swimming right?” She rubs your back soothingly, “It just takes time.” She says, “Maybe right now you’re just in the ‘art club’ part of your life. You still need to experience other clubs and teams until you find your swimming.”

“Mom…” you cry, “Thank you.”

“Your mother is right,” your dad decides to jump in “And whatever you decide we will be there cheering you on.”

Jungkook feels his heart swell. Watching you with your parents has been nothing but an amazing experience so far. He doesn’t feel bitter that he didn’t have this sort of relationship, instead he wishes he could have it even with someone like your parents.

“Now go sit with your bestie, he looks lonely over there by himself on the other couch.” Your mom scolds you lightly. You hug her tightly before letting go and walking to where Jungkook is.

You sit right next to him, not leaving any space—your knees and shoulders rubbing against one another quite innocently.

“So Jungkook,” Your father begins, “tell us about your family.”

You feel yourself go tense at the mention of Jungkook’s family. What will he say? Or will he say anything at all? “Mom’s not with us anymore.” He smiles softly, “And I don’t talk to my dad.”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” your mom places a hand over her heart.

“Sorry to hear about that, son.” Your dad shares a look of pity with your mom.

Jungkook on the other hand lights up when he hears your dad call him ‘son’.

“It’s okay.” Jungkook smiles, “I have y/n and Jimin and the rest of the guys.”

“And you have us too, sweetie.” Your mom cuts in. “We were serious about Christmas, why don’t you two come here?”

“Mom—”

“I’d like that.” Jungkook looks at your for approval, “It sounds nice, right y/n?”

You feel your heart begin to glow.

“Yeah.” You yawn out. “It does.” You lay your head on his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your waist. You miss the way your parents share a knowing look as they watch you two.

“We weren’t supposed to have any children…” Your mom starts to say, “She really was our little miracle.” She comes down into a whisper as she notices you starting to doze off.

“She’s our pride and joy.” Your father beams.

“I’m glad she isn’t lonely. Growing up, we were so worried she would become a lonely only child, but she had lots of cousins thankfully and she always had it easy when making friends.” Your mother smiles as she recalls little you.

“She’s so special, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook looks down at your sleeping face, he smiles shyly and caresses your cheek. “She is.”

Your parents share another knowing look and grin.

“When did you realize she was so special?” your father crosses a leg over the other.

“About the time she ditched you guys for me.” Jungkook’s looks at them and smiles cheekily.

Your mother and father laugh loudly, waking you from your quick nap.

“What’s so funny?” you ask groggily, you kind of drooled on yourself and Jungkook’s shoulder. You wipe at the corner of your mouth and mutter an apology to Jungkook for wetting his shirt. He only giggles at you and pats your head.

“Maybe you two should head to bed for some rest, hm?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

You and Jungkook agree with your parents, standing from your place on the love seat and say your goodnight’s.

“Goodnight sweetie.” Your dad goes in to hug you, “Sleep well.”

“Night dad, night mom.”

“Goodnight Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

“Night kiddos.”

Jungkook follows you up the stairs as he enters deep thought mode. He has only spent one day with you and your parents but he feels like he has fallen in love all over again. His love for you deepening by the minute, the way it blossoms like a beautiful, enchanted flower. The petals are bright, colorful and full of life. Nothing, he means nothing can shrivel up this rose. It is enchanted after all.

You stand outside your door, waiting for Jungkook to finish his journey up the stairs. When he finally makes it to the top he walks to you, standing outside your bedroom door.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You whisper out, a blush painting itself on your cheeks.

“Tonight was nice.” He says instead of ‘goodnight’.

“Yeah, I think my parents like you a lot.”

“And I like them a lot. I felt…so…at home.” He admits, his soft breath hitting your lips and you breathe out heavily.

“I’m glad.”

“I like you when you’re with your parents.”

“You like me?” You tease, and Jungkook goes as red as a fucking tomato.

“Like, like—”

“Chill, I know what you mean.”

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and huffs out, “Right.”

“I like you around my parents too.” You lean back on the bedroom door, and Jungkook steps closer to you.

“You like me?” he teases back and you blush even harder.

“I just mean, it’s cute seeing you nervous and flustered for once.” You say.

“I’m cute?” Jungkook takes another step towards you, backing you even further into the door.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I though?” he leans his head towards your face, his lips hovering over your left ear and he whispers…

“I won’t tell anyone you find me cute y/n.” he continues his teasing. He leans back and watches as your face goes unbelievably red.

“Shush.” You push his hard chest back and he darkly chuckles. “It’s not like you don’t find me cute as well.”

“Oh baby, I find you very, very cute” he leans in again and you scoff, giggling to yourself.

Jungkook chuckles as well, he feels himself growing hotter by the second, he pushes you back more into the door and he reaches for the doorknob and opens it, but catches you from falling inside.

“Let’s go inside.” He says lowly. “Wanna keep being with you.”

“Jungkook,” you whine, “I’m sleepy.”

“I can watch you sleep.” He teases and you cringe.

“That’s creepy!” you laugh, you two set foot inside the room and you close the door behind you guys. “But maybe we can chat for a little bit.”

“Hey!” Jungkook juts his lip out, “It’s not creepy, I just really—” love you, he wants to say. But he doesn’t have the courage but god, Jimin is right. When will he have the courage?

“Really what?” you ask innocently.

“It’s nothing.” He says. “Anyway, let’s sit.” He plops his fine ass on the edge of your childhood bed—a twin bed. You sit down next to him and you lean back until your back is laying against the soft mattress. Jungkook follows you, laying down as well.

“Thanks for making me feel like I’m a part of your family y/n.”

“You are a part of my family Jungkook.” You whisper to him and he flips on his side to get a look at your face.

“Your parents are awesome.” He chuckles.

You playfully roll your eyes and smile, “Yeah, they’re something.”

“They want you to bring home a boyfriend.”

“Too bad all they got is you.”

“Yeah, too bad.” Jungkook grins at you, he lifts his hand to your face and caresses your cheek. “You’re so pretty. I wasn’t lying…I do find you very, very cute” he says softly and you fucking melt. You sigh out and he leans in closer, you aren’t entirely sure but it feels like he’s about to kiss you.

He leans in so close until he’s raising his face just a bit and he kisses the top of your forehead.

“I think I’ll go to bed now.” He whispers.

“Wait—” You grab on to the material of his sweater, accidentally bringing him too close to you, his mouth bumping into yours.

You immediately begin to panic, your eyes shoot to Jungkook’s and he looks as surprised as you. He is silent for far too many moments until his eyes crinkle and he’s laughing, his bunny teeth on full display.

“Oops.” He says, still laughing.

“I am so sorry, oh my god.” You get up slightly, leaning on your elbows. “That was an accident.”

“Well,” Jungkook brings his fingers to his lips, “It’s not the worst thing that could happen.” He says, his shy tone making you melt all over again.

“Sorry again, wow.”

Jungkook stands from the bed and you follow his lead, walking him towards the bedroom door.

“Goodnight Jungkook.”

This is it. The moment Jimin was talking about. A moment where he can have courage.

“y/n…I just…can I tell you something…?”

“What is it?” you raise a curious brow.

Jungkook looks into your eyes for several moments, taking long, deep breaths.

“I love you.” He finally admits, after years of keeping that to himself he finally told you he loves you. He loves you with all his fucking heart, he loves you more than anyone else in his entire life. He loves you. This? This is courage.

“Huh? I love you too, JK.” You give him a weird look and laugh. “Goodnight.” And you shut the door.

“No, I…”

Was he not clear?

“I love you y/n…” he whispers to himself, “Like, really really love you.” He says to no one but the ghosts that haunt this house.

“Goodnight y/n.”

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

I thought that we had managed to work things out

Hello my lovely lovely readers<3 After a long time away from this up I'm giving you a proper angsty- future one-shot. Hope you all enjoy it!

"No dad, you have no right telling me what to do with my kids!" Annabeth said a bit louder than what she had intended.

"I was just giving you some advice."

"I didn't ask for your advice. They're my kids. The only people who can help them take desicions are Percy and I."

"You didn't seem so upset when Sally is telling you what to do." Frederick said bitterly.

"Sally was there for me when you didn't give two shits about me.”

“You didn’t let me care about you!” He yelled.

“Get out of my house!”

“You don’t mean that Annabeth.” He said a bit more calm.

“I do. I do mean that. You have the audacity to tell me that I didn’t let you care about me. I didn’t have to let you. You were supposed to take care of me. It was your job.”

“I-.”

“You failed at your job miserably. You made a 7-year-old ran away from her house. And that sets a great example of what I should avoid as a mother.” Annabeth exclaimed.

“You’re being unfair with me,” he chuckled “I wasn’t ready to have a baby. I didn’t even do anything with your mother. I made mistakes Annabeth, I know.”

“Do you?” She crossed her arms. “I was just an anomaly to the perfect family you made with Helen. You both have said it before.”

“I’m here now.”

“It’s too late.” She said with a quiet voice. “I don’t need a dad anymore. I’m a grown woman. There are more important things in my life right now.”

“Annabeth, I-.”

“Please go.”

“Annabeth-“

“Just go.”

Frederick stared apologetically at her side as he left the room.

Annabeth didn’t feel like going back downstairs to the party after her dad left. She felt all angry and messed up again. That’s what he was always doing to her.

She went to her room balcony to cool off.

“Momma?” She didn’t notice her three year old son peeking on her from the balcony door.

“Hi baby. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” She motioned him to come closer to her.

“I couldn’t sleep. Why are you sad?”

Annabeth put him on her lap and placed her head on his shoulder. “I am not sad. You don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

Charlie hummed in agreement. “Where is grandpa?”

“Something came up and he had to leave.”

“Did he leave because you had a fight?” Charlie asked her.

Annabeth didn’t know how to reply to him. “Yes, we had a fight and he had to go. But it happens with everyone. People fight sometimes.”

“You and dad don’t fight.” He observed.

“That’s because your dad is the best. And we understand each other. But again you shouldn’t worry about something like that. Everything is fine.” Annabeth then noticed that the clock next to her bedside table read 00:02. “It’s really late. Do you want me to tuck you in?”

“Yeah.”

They tiptoed back in Charlie’s bedroom. Annabeth tucked him inside his blankets. “Momma?”

“Yes?”

“I promise that we’re never going to fight when I grow up.” Charlie said.

Annabeth kissed him on the forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too momma”

Annabeth slowly closed the bedroom door.  Percy had just climbed the stairs with two mugs with hot tea. “I thought I still had a chance of becoming your number one, but I don't think it's going to happen. Charlie keeps winning." He handed her one of the two mugs as she sat on the bed. "How are you?"

"I am not really sure to be honest. It's complicated. I want to give him a chance, but I'm afraid to do so because every time I end up hurting. Any advice?"

"I think it's completely up to you and how you are feeling. I know how things with you two are very complicated, but you can decide how much involved you want him in your life."

"I don't know if he even cares anymore. But you know what? I'm content. I'm 100% happy with the way my life has turned out, with him or without him in it. And I wouldn't change any part of it for the world."

[thestarrynightslover]

I'll Make It Okay for You - Part 1

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Word count: 3,666

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst, mentions of drugs, and drug abuse. 

Summary: What happens when (y/n) (y/l/n), Harvey’s secret crush and a junior partner at his firm, openly defies him in front of everyone?

You can find Part 2 here.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first Harvey Specter fic and I’m obviously quite unsure about it, lol. This might’ve ended up like one big mess, cause I tried to combine a bunch of Harveys I wanted to see. The perfect recipe for disaster, right? Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You’d barely stepped out of the elevator when you were met by your secretary that morning. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Morning, (y/n/n). You’ve got an emergency meeting with Jessica today. Gonna give you the schedule on the way there.” Lucy stated, leading you on the opposite way to Jessica’s office.

“Oh, I got the memo; company’s under attack again. She wants me on the frontlines this time. Louis is probably running around saying ‘We’re at war, people, war!!!’, or something like that. But why aren’t we headed towards the boss’ office?”

“Apparently, uh, she wants y’all to convey at Harvey’s office.” She said hesitantly, as if afraid of your reaction.

“Are you kidding me? It’s the first hour of the morning and she wants me to go see that smug face of his?” You pouted childishly.

“Smug and hot, you mean.” Lucy corrected you, getting an outraged look from you in response, as she usually would by saying anything positive about Specter.

“Shush,” You said, motioning for her to stop talking, “ one shall not praise Harvey Annoying Specter around me.” You stated full of obstination, but the younger woman just laughed you off and said:

“Well, here we are. I guess I’ll just have to send you an e-mail with your schedule, since, once again, we spent our schedule minutes of the day talking about “the enemy”.” She mocked with gestures and everything this time. That Lucy really was a piece of work, she timed the whole thing perfectly, in a way that you couldn’t even repudiate her insinuations because you were already standing in front of Specter’s office door.

Not long after you had entered and Jessica had officially started the strategy-meeting, though, all eyes in the room turned to you, as your phone started ringing in your back pocket. "Shit! I'm- I'm so sorry, guys, I guess I-"

"Can you please take your job seriously for once in your life, (y/l/n)?" You heard Harvey Pain-In-The-Ass Specter rudely remark, as you tried to swallow your embarrassment.

“Well, like I was trying to say, I’m sorry. Gonna turn it off right now, won’t happen again.” You said, directing your apologetic look to Jessica.

“You should just go ahead and answer it, could be something important.” She calmly told you.

“Especially now that you’ve already interrupted our work.” Specter chipped in again, which just gave you more fuel to answer the goddamn phone.

“Hello, yeah this is her.” You confirmed to the man on the phone, while taking a few steps towards the corner of the room. “What??? Are you sure? Oh my God! O- okay, just tell me which one and I’ll be there as soon as possible! Right, thank you.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to understand what made you look so distressed. Except his, of course.

“Wait a second. Are you leaving right now?” He asked with a mix of annoyance and irritation in his voice.

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, Jessica, but this is a family emergency. I have to go.”

“Well, I just hope you know that this doesn’t look good for you, (y/n).” She said, voice inexpressive.

“I do and, honestly? I couldn’t care less about that right now.” You firmly told her, while hoping your career wasn’t over by the next morning.

“I hope everything goes well for you and your family, (y/n). If you need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know.” Louis told you with that childish smile of his. Jesus, even in a moment like this, he tried to flirt with you.

“Thank you, Louis. That’s very kind.” You faked a tiny smile.

“Unbelievable.” 

“What?” You asked, turning back to face Harvey.

“Your firm is under attack and you’re leaving because of some stupid family crap?” Was he even serious?

“Precisely. And I don’t really care what your thoughts are on it. Our priorities are clearly very different.” Who the hell did he think he was to say anything about your family’s issues?

“Well, that shouldn’t matter because, the minute you walk in here, through those elevators out there, you’re supposed to leave all things personal behind.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry that I’m not some heartless lawyer like you, who’s just in it for the petty fights in the name of money-making.” Shit. You needed to get the hell out of there before you said something else to make Specter wanna kick you out himself. So you did. Stormed out like there was no tomorrow, leaving nothing but the very shocked Donna, Jessica, Louis, Mike, and Rachel behind. Oh, yeah, and a very pissed-off Harvey Specter.

Okay, maybe you were a little too harsh, but given the place you needed to go, to do what you needed to do, you didn't care about Harvey, your job, or anything else.

---

It was much later on that same day, around dinner time, that you heard a soft knock on your door. But how could someone be at your door, if the doorman downstairs hadn't announced any visitors? Were you dreaming? Well, the day had been so tiring that that wasn't exactly impossible… Nonetheless, you made your way to the door, whilst holding your very needy three-year-old nephew in your arms. Not that you could blame Henry after the day he’d had.

Since you weren’t expecting anyone, it was reasonable to believe that, whoever it was, was going to be a surprise. But not in a million years would have you ever guessed that Harvey Specter was the one knocking at your door. Especially considering what had happened at the firm earlier. How did he even know your address?

“Hi, (y/l/n). I didn’t know you had a kid.” He stated with a bit of surprise of his own, pointing to the little boy you were carrying.

“No, uh, I don’t have any.” You managed to say, trying to control your shocked expression. “This is my nephew.” You clarified again, a little more at ease this time.

“My name’s Henry. What’s yours?” You heard your nephew ask with his cute child-voice.

“Harvey. It’s, uh, it’s very nice to meet you, Henry.” Harvey told the boy, holding out his hand for him to shake, as a sweet smile came to his lips.

“Is he your friend, auntie (y/n/n)?” Henry asked you hesitantly, before making a move. The Don’t Talk to Strangers Rule must’ve kicked in his mind. 

Before answering him, you hesitated a little bit yourself, though. Was Harvey your friend? Obviously not, but if he came to your apartment in the middle of the night like this, it was probably because of something important. Work-related, of course. Which meant you’d have to let him in, so you settled for what would be the easiest classification for a three-year-old.

“Yeah, bud, he is my friend from work.” Hearing that, something in Specter’s eyes changed, you didn’t really know what, though.

“Well, then, can he come play with us?” He gave you such a cute look, that you almost said yes right on cue. But you obviously couldn’t. 

“You’d have to ask him, but I’m sure he has a lot of other, more important, things to do now.” You tried to explain to the little boy, giving Harvey a look. But you didn’t get too far, as the lawyer quickly said:

“Of course I wanna go play with you! That is if your auntie’s okay with that…” Now he was mocking you, that was the only explanation.

“Can we play with him, then, auntie (y/n/n)? Please, please, please?” God, what horrible thing could’ve you possibly done to deserve this particular punishment?

“Um, I guess... If he really has nothing better to do-” Harvey didn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“I really don’t.” He said, shooting you and Henry a bright smile that you’d never seen before.

“Okay, then, come in. Please disregard the mess, I got this stuff to make dinner, but someone just won’t detach, right, mister?” You asked your nephew with fake annoyance in your voice, as you tickled his sides a little bit. He just laughed at you. Though what really caught your attention was the fact that Harvey, too, was chuckling lightly at the scene, as he started picking up your groceries’ bags from the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you, what else?” You gave him a weird look because, well, it was a weird situation. Maybe he noticed your discomfort because he added: “You look tired, so I’ll help you by making dinner and putting the rest of these away.”

“You’re kidding, right?” There was no way in hell that the All-Mighty Harvey Specter was gonna get domestic for you, of all people. Since he didn’t bother to answer, you went on: “First of all, what was it that you really came here to do, hum? And, second, I don’t need your help with anything.” Normally you tried to be kind to everyone, but, then again, Specter wasn’t exactly your normal kind of guy.

“Well, first of all,” he started in a tone of mockery, “that was rude! Look at the example you’re setting for little Henry!” Oh God, as much as you hated to admit it, he was kinda right, because you had completely forgotten about the little boy still cradled in your arms. “Second, we can talk about the reason why I came here later,” after your nephew’s asleep, was implicit in his speech, “third, it looks like you do need some help. And, for your luck, I happen to be a very good cook when I want to.”

“But-” You could barely begin your sentence, as Harvey sharply cut you off:

“You see, buddy,” he started, motioning to Henry this time, “the quicker we get your auntie on board with the game plan, the quicker we’ll get to eat and go play together!” Son of a bitch! Using a child to get to you…

“Can we please, auntie? Please?” How could you not crack after that pleading?

“Fine, but I swear I’ll make you pay if we wake up with food poisoning tomorrow, Specter.” You told him playfully, trying to lighten the mood after all of your bluntness.

“Oh, trust me, (y/l/n), you won’t. This will be the best meal you and the young man here will ever have in your entire lives.” He said cockily, but without the usual arrogance level, if that even makes sense.

A few hours and a really great dinner later, you and Henry couldn’t help but snicker shamelessly at Harvey’s ridiculous faces, as the three of you played a game on your living room’s floor. Trying to catch your breath from your giggles, you glanced up at the clock and realized that it was way too late for your nephew to be out of bed like that. So you broke up the game, announcing:

“It’s bedtime for you, Mr. Henry.” You watched the faces of the pair turn into ones of pure disappointment, as they prepared to pout.

“Just a little longer, auntie (y/n/n)! please!” The little boy started.

“Yeah, auntie, just a little longer! Please?” This time it was the grown man, one of the toughest Wall Street lawyers.

“As moved as I am by your synchrony, guys, the answer is a big no. C’mon, bud, let’s go brush your teeth. And then straight to bed. So say bye to Harvey, and thank him for being so nice to us tonight.” He looked between you and Specter as if still hoping for a hail Mary of some sort.

“Bye, Harvey.” He sounded so sad, but then he smiled brightly again, as he repeated what you’d told him to say word by word: “And thank you for being so nice to us tonight.” Hearing that, both you and Harvey chuckled lightly at the young boy, who quickly added: “Will you come see us tomorrow too?”

“Uh, we’ll, uh, we’ll see about that, okay, little man?” He tried to let Henry down slowly but, watching the boy’s expression become a sad one instantly, he added: “It’s just because both your auntie and I have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I’ll do my best, okay?” That was definitely a side of Harvey you’d never seen before, he had even bent down to be on your nephew’s level.

“Okay.” Henry said quietly, seeming to be a little happier, too.

“Okay, then let’s just go upstairs already.” You took the boy’s hand to guide him towards the spare bedroom’s bathroom, all the while shooting Specter a look that told him to wait for you a little longer.

“I’ll wait for you down here.” He said, proving he understood what your eyes tried to transmit.

So you headed upstairs with your nephew and, after a good fifteen minutes of brushing Henry’s teeth, helping him into his PJs, and tucking him in, you finally managed to come back to the living room, where you found Harvey looking through some of your photos displayed on the sideboard. For a minute or two, you just watched him. It wasn’t that you liked what you saw or anything. It wasn’t. It was more like postponing the weird conversation you two were bound to have, because, after all that had happened in those few hours, the atmosphere was, at very least, a strange one. But, almost as if he’d felt your gaze on his back, the lawyer in him was switched on, and he interrupted your thoughts by saying:

“Ah, you’re back. Good, because we need to talk.” You just motioned for him to follow you into your home office. But both you and Harvey looked so informal to be in that kind of environment, that you just indicated the small couch on the wall opposite to your desk for you to take your seats in.

“So, uh, before you even say anything, I wanna thank you for being so kind tonight,” a small smile came to your lips, as you remembered, not only the evening but how your nephew had used almost those exact same words, already imitating you, a little earlier. Specter smiled too, you noticed. “and I also wanna apologize. If you came here to talk to me… I must’ve made you waste a lot of time, huh?” You tried with a half-smile this time, as embarrassment started taking over you.

“What? No, of course not! I'm pretty sure that I told you I didn't have anything better to do, didn't I?" He calmly asked with a smile.

"Yeah, but I'm not buying it. You're Harvey Specter, isn't that what you're always saying? And Harvey Specter always has something better to do, isn't that right?" You shot back in a mockery tone, regaining your confidence.

"Well, maybe. But, not today. So don't apologize, and don't thank me. I'm the one who should be thanking you, I had a really good time tonight." Okay, now you were shocked. He had a good time?

"Uh, okay, um, so... What was so urgent that you had to come here in the middle of the night?" You nervously ranted, while tugging your hair behind your ears. He just stared at you, so much so that you almost repeated your question.

"Um, yeah, about this morning… That's why I came here…" You were already guessing that that would come up eventually, but it was the topic of your conversation? "I know that you and I always had our differences, and maybe even some rivalry-"

"Some rivalry? Dude, I'm just a junior partner, and ever since I started on that firm you've been persecuting me-"

"I wouldn't say persecuting…"

"Oh, you wouldn't?"

"Not since you made junior partner anyways. Now it's just a healthy rivalry between work friends…" He tried to use what you’d told your nephew earlier. 

"Oh, so you do admit you were persecuting me when I was an associate, huh?"

"Shit." He muttered quietly, as you watched him with a victory smile on your lips. "You know what? Hell yeah, I did persecute you when you were an associate." Hearing that blunt admission of guilt, you just couldn't find anything to say. “You wanna know why? I did that because, from the first time I saw you doing your job, I saw this very thing that I see now: you kicking ass, you think I wanted to admit this to you? I’ll answer it myself: no, I didn’t. The only reason why it happened is that you led me to it.” He blurted out, completely knocking you off your socks.

“So, um, you treated, you treat me like shit because, um, because I’m good?” You asked, still unsure of what to think about his confession.

“Well, that was part of it, sure. So, you see, I could understand it when you weren’t particularly thrilled at the perspective of working with me. But, this morning, you said that I’m a heartless guy who only cares about money… Is that really what you think of me?” This time he sounded genuinely sad? When Harvey said that he’d come to your apartment to talk about that morning, you thought he was gonna reprimand the shit out of you for disrespecting him ⎯ your sort of boss, a senior partner ⎯, but, apparently, he was asking about it on a more personal level. A level you’d never really thought played a part in your relationship with him.

“Oh, Harvey…”

“Be honest, please. I don’t want your pity. You don’t even know me all that well, so don’t try to minimize anything. I can take it.”

“That’s not what I was gonna do. And, trust me, you’re probably the last person in the world I’d pity.” You told him with a sly smile. “You’re right. I don’t know you all that well. Or, at least, I didn’t this morning. But I do know that you’re not heartless. Also, I was really out of line then, I’ve seen you fighting tooth and nail for a lot more than just money in that firm. You’re loyal to your firm and friends like no one else and, tonight, I watched you sitting on the floor and playing with a little boy. And, trust me, that meant more to him than you’d ever know, especially after today… Anyways, what I’m really trying to say is that I was so damn wrong and that I’m sorry. I’d gotten some pretty nerve-racking news beforehand, not that that’s an excuse but...” You told him, meaning every word and trying hard to show how much you regretted your previous actions.

“Wait, what news?”

“Ah, it’s nothing for you to worry about, really.” You tried to brush him off.

“Oh, c’mon! You said all those nice things about me, but when it comes to your life and your problems you still don’t trust me, isn’t that right?” His tone was sharply inexpressive, but his eyes showed he was actually hurt.

“What are you talking about? Oh my God, Harvey! I’ve relied on you for a number of cases that I really cared about! I let you in on my apartment! I let you spend an entire night around my nephew! Of course, I trust you!”

“Then what the hell is the problem? You think I’m not gonna give a damn about your family issues? Is that it? Because I am literally begging you to tell me about them!”

“I don’t wanna tell you because I don’t want you, or anyone else on the firm, to think that I’m some pathetic little girl who uses her family issues as an excuse to get out of a tough fight.” You confessed in a lower tone, slightly embarrassed, just hoping he would understand and stop poking. “Things are very different when you’re a woman, you know…”

“I would never think that about you. Family is important. Especially if it’s made of people like Henry…” He said, reassuring you, even though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “Besides, you said you trust me, so you need to trust me when I say that I wouldn’t betray you by telling people about your problems. I’m not here as your boss, (y/n). I just wanna help you.” He sounded so sincere and, if you were being honest with yourself, you kinda really needed to vent.

“Okay, um, where to start? I have two sisters: Henry’s mother, Kat, and a fifteen-year-old, Lisa. I’m the older one of all three of us. Lisa’s sick, like very sick, so my parents, who are both retired, are with her at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, to try and get her better. In the meantime, Kat was supposed to go to college, as well as care for her son, between my parents and me, she wouldn’t even need to provide for them or anything. But, a while ago, she overdosed for the first time. That’s when we found out about her addiction. We’ve already tried a million different things but nothing works. So, my parents and I threatened to make her lose her parental rights over Henry, hoping that it’d be a wake-up call for her, but it backfired. She just took the boy and disappeared, then today I get that call, from the police department, saying that she was in custody for drug distribution and endangering the well-fare of a minor. They asked me to go pick my nephew and, maybe, get Kat a lawyer.” And, just like that, you’d told Harvey Specter, of all people, everything. Tears rolling down your cheeks and him pulling you into a hug.

If anyone had told you that that was how your night was gonna go, you would have definitely laughed them out of the room. But now, just sitting there, being held and caressed by Harvey, as you let your armor down, it was finally beginning to look like things were gonna be okay. 

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”