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slickshoesareyoucrazy · 2 years ago

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Seen Part VI

“I can’t believe you have a laundry closet inside your apartment. You’re just so Uptown now,” Joe teased. He pitched in folding clothes and putting them on hangers with Mary Sue, clean laundry spread out across the bed, and another load spinning in the washer. “John and Angie don’t have this. They’re still going to Mom and Dad’s for dinner twice a week to do wash. Shit, Nanna D still hangs her clothes on a line in the basement because she doesn’t even have a dryer.”

“Did you go home to wash clothes...before? Or did you do coin laundry?”

“I had coin laundry available in the basement of the building, but I went home. Every quarter counts.”

“Oh I know it does. One of the decision makers on this place was the laundry closet. No quarters and no trips home either.”

“Mom asked if I was mad at her Wednesday. I told her you had this in your apartment…”

“Our apartment.”

“God I love hearing you say that.”

“Was that slip up intentional?”

“No. But maybe I’ll start doing that to hear you correct me more.” She pinched her face in phony aggravation. “So, I know you’re already doing Nanna’s on Sundays, but...”

“I love going to your Nanna’s. I really do. I love being there. I love eating with your family and Nanna’s food. I love the way her house smells…”

“It smells like...Nanna’s,” he chuckled. “It smells like food and furniture polish.”

“Well yeah. I love that. I love walking in and breathing it in. Just fill up my nose and lungs with ‘home.’”

“You like how it smells. Do...where else do you feel that way? You ever felt like that anywhere else?”

“That it’s home? No. I mean, here now. ‘Cause you’re here. But no other place feels like home. Well...maybe your parents’ house. But that’s it.”

“I mean that you like the way it smells. Bakeries and flower gardens obviously don’t count,” he amended.

“The art museum. Libraries. Used book stores.”

“Used book stores? Only used book stores?”

“Yeah. New book stores usually smell like coffee, which...eh. Plus used books smell better than new ones. Old ones smell better. There’s actually a chemical paper releases when it ages that...I’ll shut up now…” She bumbled a pair of socks and re-balled them up correctly.

“Don’t ever shut up. Finish it. I really wanna know now. I’m not even just…whatever.” Joe took eight hangers in one hand and hung them in the closet before returning to her.

“Placating me? Pacifying me?”

“The words are sexy. Seriously. I’m not even playing around. Yes. I’m not doing those things. I want you to educate me about old books and what makes them smell good.”

“Wood based paper releases something called lignin as it breaks down over time, and that’s really close to vanillin, which is obviously...y’know...vanilla. Like you bake with or make ice cream with, and so new books don’t have that yet. It doesn’t release until the paper ages. That’s why the older ones are better. Libraries and used book stores. They smell like...vanilla. And there’s a lot of comfort in that. I love walking into a place with a smell. Nanna’s house does smell like food and furniture polish. Because she makes things and nourishes everybody that comes over and she takes care of the real things, the things she’s kept from a long time ago, because she cares about them. That’s nice. Libraries and used book stores smell like people read and learned and loved those books. The art museum smells like that too. History and preservation of timeless beauty and creativity. You know. It smells like...the museum. It has its own...scent. Good, but it smells like something. Your mom and dad’s house smells like cut grass outside and fabric softener inside, and I always thought it was because your mom used a lot of softener in the wash, but it’s really because there’s just constantly wash going. That’s kinda awesome. That’s...home. ‘You can still come home when you need something. We’re still here for you.’ I love places that have a familiar smell that permeates the whole space and sort of defines it like that. My parents’ apartment doesn’t have a smell. Steven’s house didn’t have one. Rugby player’s house didn’t. The dorms didn’t have one. I mean, that’s good, I guess. It could smell like garbage or a sewer grate or something. I mean, those places were clean, at least mostly, but the lack of any kind of smell is weird. When a place smells like...something...like itself...like what’s inside it...it makes you want to stay or at least come back all the time. But places without a smell or with a strange, clinical ‘clean’ aroma to them are just...too sterile. Like a dentist’s office or something. No one wants to go back there. You go there because you have to. Or that fake, perfumey...like the make-up counters in department stores. It’s too much, and it’s almost assaulting, and you know it’s covering over everything real... God, Joey, tell me to shut up! You just...let me run on and on!”

“I like seeing you run. I like seeing where you go.” He leaned back against the edge of the bed and she closed the last drawer, finally cleared of chores until the next load finished. “Your apartment smells like the stuff you wash your hair with. And food and furniture polish. And fabric softener.” She closed her eyes in gratitude for him using her metaphor to tell her he felt like home in the apartment now, and he relished seeing her take hold of that realization. “Anyway, you think maybe we could go have dinner at my parents’ sometimes? That’s what I was gonna ask like...twenty minutes ago when I brought up that you already go to Nanna’s with me. I don’t wanna like...overwhelm you with my family, but I can tell my mom cares that I’m not doing laundry there anymore. Not because she misses the laundry.”

“Of course. If they want us, of course we’ll go. I’d love to go with you. Or you can go without me too if...”

“I don’t wanna go without you.” He reached out for her and intertwined their fingers again. “Mom and Dad don’t want me to come without you. I mean, that came out wrong, but you know what I meant.” He paused at her nod, thinking about how agreeable she’d been since their reunion, and troubled himself over it. “Am I ever gonna ask you for something you’re gonna say no to?”

“I dunno. You want me to say no?”

“Not exactly. Just...want you to know you can.”

“Oh I know I can. I’ve said a lot of no’s. But with you… You really like seeing me run?”

“Yes. Take off!” he laughed.

“OK in school, my adviser told me this thing from improv comedy to get over writer’s block, right? When your negative inner critic keeps telling you no, and you’re stalled, just deliberately switch the no to a ‘yes, and...’ instead. It’s how you get more. And better. ‘No’ only gets you less. So you only want less of things that hurt or defeat you. It’s actually rare that you want less. You tend to always want more, and that’s definitely what you want when you’ve been blocked for a while. More. Well, I’ve been blocked for a while, and I want more...you. More...love. So I’m doing Yes, Ands. I’ll only say no if I want less. If it’s hurting or defeating me. So...you ever gonna ask me to commit a felony or otherwise get arrested? Hurt somebody on purpose? Quit school or my career? Give up the new friends you just encouraged me to make? Stop talking to my brother? Cheat on you? Invest in a pyramid scheme? Do something that makes me need a lot of expensive medical intervention?”

“Of course not.”

“Then I’m getting a no on no’s. You aren’t ever going to ask me to do something I’d say no to.”

“That’s good to know.”

***

Joe, Ethan, and Will set up on Main and 9th again for a rare Saturday playing together. Will and Ethan both cracked their knuckles and played a few lazy flourishes on the keyboard and drum to warm up. Joe took a few deep breaths and worked the valves on his trumpet without putting it to his lips. He rolled his shoulders and rotated his neck from one shoulder to the other before saying, “Start with Sell Out?” to his friends. Before they could answer, a surly voice from the crowd on the street called, “Be careful here, folks. The trumpet player will steal your girlfriend.” It was Steven. Joe registered him immediately after Mary Sue’s stealthy identification the previous evening.

“No, man. Just your girlfriend,” Joe rapidly shot back, Ethan following up with a rimshot on the drum; perfect comedic timing.

Steven’s face turned red, and instead of accepting the loss, he doubled down. “You admit you stole my girlfriend then?”

“You don’t own people. How can I steal something from you that never belonged to you in the first place?” The question was rhetorical, but Steven boiled, searching for a snappy comeback anyway, and failed. “You left her downtown without a ride two weeks ago because she tipped us.” Will couldn’t resist adding an ominous piano riff from the first stanzas of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony to the end of Joe’s last damning statement of fact. The minor drama had drawn a small, rapt crowd, and without playing a song, several passers-by had already dropped some money in the hat between Joe’s feet, tinkling with entertained laughter as they continued their evenings out. Steven opened his mouth to speak again, but Joe cut him off, this time with the trumpet. He took out his plunger mute and domed over any formed words with mournful wa-wa’s and nonsense notes of musical mockery, like the adult voices in a Peanuts cartoon. The crowd howled with laughter, and again, before a single song in the set list, earned them more cash in the hat.

“I saw you with her last night. I can’t believe she’s actually seeing...you. What could possibly possess her to wanna be with you?” Steven spat out his words, nearly literally foaming at the mouth with embarrassed furor.

“I see her. You still don’t. Your loss, man. That girl’s gonna be my wife.”

***

“There’s that red hot trumpet player from Main and 9th who I tricked into living with me,” Mary Sue claimed as Joe opened the apartment door and set to resetting all the locks. It was late, and she was in her baggy sweats and bunny slippers again, this time patiently expecting him, however.

“So your dipshit ex showed back up downtown tonight and tried to ‘interrupt our gig.’ I’m surprised he didn’t call you tattling and begging like a crybaby before I got home, honestly.”

She sat up to attention from a complaisant repose on the couch. “Are you serious?! What happened?! I hope you just ignored him because he doesn’t deserve any of your attention or energy…”

“We might have antagonized him a little.” Joe smirked with devilish joy that Mary Sue mirrored, even as she shook her head at him, bemused and scolding.

“It’s not for me, you know. He doesn’t care about me. That’s why he didn’t call me. He just wanted to try and humiliate you. Because he has zero humility in him. He’s shameless.”

“Oh I know he was trying to humiliate me and fuck up our night and maybe shoo us away from playing there at all again, but the shameless thing? Him having no humility? I mean, not disagreeing with you, but he definitely felt some shame today. Not for the shit he should be ashamed of, like leaving you downtown with no ride, or being a pretentious asshole who’s probably at least a little racist based on how he looked at Will, but...he did feel some. Because his evil plan backfired. Damn, he made us soooo much money. Ethan and me let Will take home most of the extra, but both of us still brought home about fifty tonight. Will wanted to ask him to come back again; he thinks we could call off all the money-making...’gigs.’ You infected all of us with that word now…” Joe had put away his trumpet, and stripped off his hoodie and stepped out of his shoes again, leaving himself in just jeans, a plain white tshirt, and thick work socks. He dropped himself down on the cushion next to her. She pulled the sock hat off his head, revealing his unkempt curly hair.

“I think your band should have a name and everything.”

“Will and Ethan and me? Should have a name? Dollar store lawn chairs on the street and Will’s the only one who can read music? We could call ourselves the Dollar Store Lawn Chairs.”

“I think that’s a kick ass name for a band.”

“Sure. Hire us out for weddings and bar mitzvahs and shit.”

“I’m serious, but ok. Laugh at me. That’s fine.”

“We did call off next weekend entirely. Like...it was THAT much money. Who knew a heckler could get you more tips?!”

“You think Steven’s gonna show up all the time now? I’m sorry, Joey…”

“No way. I think he’s had his fill of being part of the show.” He wound a covetous arm around her, prompting her to crawl into his lap. “Can I have a little kiss?” She nodded and pecked him on the lips. “Will you go to bed with me?” She nodded again.

“Will you sing to me?”

“When you kiss me, Heaven sighs. And though I close my eyes, I see La Vie En Rose...”

***

“Hey Nanna,” Joe murmured in secrecy. It was the first time that Sunday evening he managed to corral Nanna D away from the rest of the family for a private conversation.

“What’s the matter with My Joey?” his grandmother asked with concern. “You seem a little outta sorts. You should be walking on air with Mary Sue here three weeks in a row.”

“I guess I’m just nervous to talk to you tonight. About Mary Sue.”

“We love her, Joey. All of us do. We’re all glad she’s back with us. Are you...not...anymore?”

“Oh no, of course I’m...I couldn’t be any happier that she’s back. I just...I...” He huffed, frustrated with himself that it was so strangely hard to bring this up, when it’s all he wanted to do, and knew his family supported him. They always had. “Remember...remember when she was here back in high school? And you said...um...you said...you told me you didn’t wanna put any pressure on us, but that you thought...you could see...and Nonnina Maria’s ring was um…”

“Oh Joey!” she chirped with excitement.

“Ssssshhh!! Nanna! She’s just around the corner here,” Joe laughed.

“Well of course you can have the ring! Nonno and I promised it to you seven years ago. We meant that. Everyone...meant it.”

“I was worried maybe you and everyone else would think it was...too soon after…”

“It’s not too soon if you feel like you want to do it now. You didn’t want to after three years together with her before. It’s time now. The ring, though.” She shook her head and her expression dropped into doleful gloom, pulling Joe’s own face down into a concerned and discouraged frown. “Mary Sue has worked so hard to...she has...goals...expectations now for her life, as she should and… It’s not...it’s not much in the way of say...being appraised…if you...I’m sure Johnny and your dad and your Nonno and the rest of the family would give a little if you wanted to get her something more and better...”

“It’s the ring she’ll want, Nanna. It is more and better. To Mary Sue.”

***

“Smells like the movies in here,” Mary Sue giggled, entering the apartment. Joe had popped two bags of microwave popcorn before she got home. “Don’t lock up or take your coat and stuff off. I wanna take you out,” he said. He was wearing the nicest sweater (not hoodie) he owned over one of his two button-up collared shirts that weren’t flannel, and the wingtips. But still jeans. He’d pulled on a toque and grabbed gloves and a scarf, but didn’t put them on.

“My goodness, look at you!” she squealed.

“It’s not the suit, but...”

“It’s still pretty nice. Like an Abercrombie model, just with your shirt on,” she teased.

“Never been in that store in my life.” He closed his eyes and shook his head at her pestering.

“Unfortunately I have. The atmosphere is about eighty percent perfume. It’s gross. I clearly didn’t buy anything. The pictures on the walls though? Um...they were nice. And you...look niiiice.”

“Wanted you to see some effort.”

“I see it. I should go get ready, too, if...”

“You always look like you’re already on a date somewhere nice. Except when you’re home in the bunny slippers, which is kinda my favorite anyway. But we’re not even going… We can just go. No additional work needed on you, Rice Chex.”

“Dinner?”

“I packed us dinner.”

“Where is it?”

“In the truck.”

“Do I have time to hit the restroom first?”

“Yeah. Quickly. Don’t want dinner getting cold on us.”

He opened the truck’s passenger door for her and she climbed in next to a bucket of Guster’s chicken, a six pack of bottled Cheerwine (a specialty cherry soda that was one of Mary Sue’s favorite indulgences), and two gallon zip top bags of popcorn. She saw he’d taken the time to melt extra butter and drizzle it into the bags. “Now the truck also smells like popcorn. And fried chicken. What are you up to?”

“Taking my girl on a date.”

“We went out last weekend...”

“You went out with friends last weekend. Which you wouldn’t have done, either, if I wasn’t playing. You’ve seen me play. That’s not a date. That coffee shop doesn’t count either. Coming home to you every day is awesome, but it doesn’t count as a date...we haven’t really gone on a date since...a long time ago. And shit, even most of those were with Andy tagging along. So taking my girl out on a date.”

“To where?”

“Starlight.”

“You’re just gonna blow that entire fifty you made Saturday night?”

“No, we’re not going in. We’re gonna park in the alley across the street. And watch the movie from the roof of the truck. With no sound.”

She felt her eyes burn and get wet, but she steeled herself not to cry. “What movie’s playing?”

“Amadeus.”

He parked in his strategic spot, still there from their high school days, as was the drive-in theater, despite so many other changes in the past seven years. Starlight was now promoted the same way most of the downtown bars and pubs and cafes were; as more upscale than it really was. ‘Retro.’ ‘Classic.’ But really, it was the same worn drive-in that survived demolition and dwindling patrons with dwindling incomes by repackaging itself as trendy.

Joe pushed the mix tape he’d made from the classical AM radio station into the truck’s cassette deck. They ate chicken and climbed up onto the roof with the popcorn and the rest of the napkins and Cheerwine. The opening of Amadeus played soundlessly before them with a cobbled together, historically inaccurate soundtrack of more romantic classical selections. “I know it’s not right, but Mozart wasn’t a romantic composer, so the tape is all Beethoven and Chopin and Debussy. Lotsa soft piano. I know that’s your favorite.”

“Actually trumpet is my favorite. Loud or soft.”

“Yeah, there aren’t a lot of romantic classical trumpet pieces, though. And jazz would just be...way off for a movie about Mozart. I wanted to be not so far off it...ruined anything.”

“This is a long movie. How much music’s on that tape?”

“On that one? About two hours. We just get side one twice.” She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. He took her hand and laced his fingers into hers. “I wanted to take you to a high school baseball game, and play you some 90s grunge, but it’s November. I’m lucky the drive-in is still open. They shut down for the winter December first.”

“Joe this is...perfect,” she dreamily sighed.

“I um...I got something for you.”

“There’s more? Than this? This is already…”

“There’s more. And I hope better.” He took off his gloves and fished the ring from his pocket, not letting go of her hand for more than the seconds it took to uncover his. “This was my great grandmother Maria Disibio’s ring. You can see it’s not a diamond. It wasn’t really designed to be an engagement ring. My great-grandfather Giuseppe had this ring made for her to mark their American success. They thought what they had here...was a success. Her family...her family didn’t want her to leave Italy with him. But she did. Obviously. And when she died, my great Aunt Lucia got her necklace, and great Uncle Poulo got the diamond ring. Nonno Gianni got this ring. Nanna...Nanna mentioned this ring to me when we were sixteen. She saw...she saw a lot then. And then you left, and...well, Johnny got married, but he told Nanna he couldn’t take this ring because I was supposed to have it. For you. It’s got history. It’s been passed down through generations of my family, and...well I wanna give it to you. So I guess I’m asking if you meant it when you said you were gonna marry the trumpet player.”

“Yeah. I meant it, Joey.”

“Yes, then?” She pulled the fingers of her left glove one at a time and slid if off her hand.

“Yes, AND.” He beamed at her and slid the ring down her finger. Neither of them were really surprised that it fit without adjustments. She stared at her left hand and he stared at her face, both ignoring the silent film scenes playing across the street as Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata played on the truck’s stereo. “I love you. I love this heirloom ring. I...shouldn’t even accept something so...priceless.”

“Yeah, you should. Yes, and...”

“Yes, and forever after this.” He drew her left hand to his lips to plant a kiss on that ring before kissing her mouth. “I love that you took me out tonight, Joey, but...I wanna go home.” She caressed his cheek and neck (the beard was growing back, which was fine with her...she loved his face regardless of how often he shaved).

“Me too.”

***

“Hey. Whatsamatter with my Rice Chex?” Joe sat down at the tiny dining table across from Mary Sue. She scowled at an open spiral notebook and an old solar calculator.

“Getting married costs a lot of money.”

“It definitely can. It doesn’t have to, though.”

“My parents can’t give us any money for...I mean...it’s all very Jane Austen, or some PBS period piece. I’m a dowry-less girl. Even if they had money, sometimes I think my mom wouldn’t give me any. And I counted your family and the friends I know about, plus guests, and maybe the same people who showed up to my high school graduation and it’s just a lot. Gotta rent a place...”

“Or have the reception at Mom and Dad’s. There’s enough parking on the street. There is for Christmas...”

“And all the food...”

“My family will make all the food...”

“And music...”

“Rice Chex, I’m IN a band. And I’m the mix tape MASTER. Come on, now...”

“And pictures...”

“We can pass around Mom’s fancy camera!” he laughed. “You still wanna do this, right?” he continued more seriously.

“Yes! But I don’t wanna just...spend here and then not get you a house to play the trumpet in. Or not spend here and seem like I don’t wanna have a nice wedding with you. Or make your family like...work all the time for it.”

“Look, you know if we paid a caterer, all the Disibios will pick the food to pieces, anyway. Especially Nanna D. My folks would wanna have the party at their house. They’ll just throw us an engagement party if they don’t get the wedding reception anyway. You know this. Ethan and Will have already had a discussion about playing at a ceremony for us. You’re calling it work; they’ll be insulted if you work around them.”

“Maybe we should just have your family come watch us get married at the courthouse. That really saves a lot.”

“I’ll do that and so will they if that’s really what you want. But I can’t believe you don’t wanna dance with me to La Vie En Rose.” He urged her from her seat into a dancer’s hold and sang the lyrics until they were dancing to only the matching instrumental music in their heads.

“I do want this. I want the dress and the flowers and all of that. But I want a future more. I want my someday. The good one.”

“We’ll find a way to get all of it. Maybe we’ll have to let the people who love us...do a little work. But we’ll find a way.”

“What if she wrecks everything, Joey?” She didn’t expand or provide any context for what she said, but Joe nevertheless knew she was referring to her mother.

“She won’t. We won’t let her.”

“I want my dad to walk me down an aisle. I want Andy to be there. But she’s...”

“I know.” He kissed her forehead and folded her into one of his patented cradling hugs. “We’re gonna get married.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, and you’re gonna dance with me as my wife in my parents’ back yard, or the kitchen I guess if it’s raining.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, and you’re gonna finish your thesis and get this great job teaching college.”

“Yes, and we’re gonna get that house. No shared walls. Off street parking.”

“Yes, and I’m gonna play you La Vie En Rose on the trumpet every single day, and not play on the street anymore.”

“Yes, and since you won’t be playing on Main and 9th, we’ll just have Will and Ethan over for a cookout or something to play together sometimes.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, and we’ll have a baby. Someday. Probably not as far off as it seems right now.”

“Yes, and our baby will grow up and get real music lessons. Read music. Read lotsa books. Love art and science and learning so much it will be hard for them to choose some kind of path to take.”

“Yes, and...” she stalled, and started to cry.

“Yes, and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“That’s the best Yes And.”

“You ever get blocked on a Yes And, I’ll be there with one. I’ll see a Yes And. I promise.”

“I promise too.”

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rayslittlekitten · 3 years ago

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Snitches Get No Ice Cream

"Dad Will" Masterlist

A/N: I'm in love with Dad!Will now since Like Father, Like Daughter so I've been getting inspiration to write more. This would take place much earlier. Lucy would be about 10. Also, I haven't officially decided yet but this can be an expanse to Husband Duties.

Thank you @lovebarefootblonde and @supposedtobean80sgroupie for beta reading!

Word Count: ~800

Pairing: Dad!Will x Wife F!Reader; Dad!Will & Daughter OC (Lucy)

Plot: You find out what Will has been doing behind your back.

Contains: Dad!Will being a dad, Uncle Benny and cousin Gary makes an appearance, a little bit of sexy stuff between Will and reader at the end

Benny and his family are over for weekly Sunday dinner. As Will is wiping down the counter and you're loading the dishwasher, Benny is teaching the kids how to catch mini marshmallows into their mouths while having ice cream. A marshmallow goes flying past Lucy and lands next to Will on the kitchen island for the third time.

"Come on, guys," Will lets out a loud exhale and picks up the offending piece of sugar and tosses it out.

"Sorry, daddy!" Lucy turns around.

"Maybe it's time to quit it," Will says as he nervously watches them.

"Daddy, you told me to never be a quitter!"

"Okay, that was my fault," Will mumbles, tossing the kitchen towel onto the countertop.

"Okay, one more try." Benny aims the marshmallow at Gary and he catches it.

"Yay!!" Everyone cheers.

Benny then tosses a marshmallow to Lucy and she finally catches it into her mouth. They cheer for her as well.

"Alright, no more. You did it." Will walks over to the dining table and starts collecting the ice cream and toppings.

"Daddy, your turn to catch!" Lucy turns to Will with a mini marshmallow between her little fingers ready to launch it at him.

"No, thank you sweetheart. You can have that. Just no more throwing and catching." Will steps away from the table to put the sweet away.

"But it's fun," Lucy adds.

"Your dad doesn't do fun. In fact, he was the uncoolest kid in school," Benny tells Lucy.

"And Uncle Benny was the biggest troublemaker in school," Will adds as he goes to make himself a cup of tea after checking with you to see if you needed any help. "I just don't want the kids to risk choking, okay?"

"That doesn't make any sense. Daddy is the coolest person I know," Lucy says after digging into a spoon of ice cream.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he comments as he makes his way back to the dining table. "See, someone thinks I'm cool."

"You're welcome, daddy!" Lucy turns to Will and flashes a proud grin, baring her little white teeth. "You wanna know why? Because daddy lets me stay up late and eat ice cream when mommy doesn't let--"

"No, no, no! Shh, shh!" Will rushes over and immediately clamps his hand over her mouth.

You pause what you're doing and turn to suspiciously look at Will who is clearly eyeing you while making sure Lucy doesn't talk anymore. Will flashes you a super wide grin. Lucy tries to talk with her mouth covered and Will finally lets her go.

"Oopsie. Does that mean I can't stay up late and eat ice cream anymore when mommy says no?" Lucy looks up at Will.

"That was our little secret, sweetheart," Will whispers. "As long as mommy didn't know, but now she does."

You shoot Will a look of betrayal for undermining you and then go back to what you were doing.

**********

"We have to be on the same page and stick to it," you tell him as you lay down and reach over to shut your lamp off. "If not, it'll just confuse her and she'll just learn to always ask you for everything because she'll know you'll say yes every time."

“Come on, babe. You know I can’t say no to her," Will says as he climbs into bed in his white tee and boxer briefs. "Especially when she flashes those damn puppy eyes at me. I’d give her both of my kidneys in a heartbeat if she asked for them right now.”

“Really? Right now?” you turn over and look at him with a raised brow.

“Right now. No questions asked," Will answers as he gets settled under the comforter.

“What the hell would she need not just one, but two kidneys for, right now?”

“I don’t care,” he shakes his head. “She can sell them on the black market for all I care as long as it makes her happy.”

“She’s 10!” You laugh at how silly your husband is as you get settled in yourself. "You would let her get away with murder."

"And she'd be the most adorable murderer to ever exist," Will replies.

"You'd give her both of your kidneys, but can't give me the last banana?" you tease.

"Babe, next time, if you need something to satisfy your oral fixation, just tell me." Will scoots closer to you and puts his arm over you to pull you in against him. "I've got an organ I can give to you over and over again."

You feel Will grinding himself against you and the said organ poking you. You bite your lower lip and he leans in closer to kiss you. You start making out with him and he rolls you onto your back to get on top of you.

#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #will ironhead miller fanfiction #will ironhead miller x you #william ironhead miller x reader #will ironhead miller x reader #william ironhead miller #will ironhead miller #daughter oc #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #Dad!Will #Dad!will miller

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shemarmooresfedora · 4 years ago

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Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Spencer’s phone buzzed in his desk drawer much to his confusion. Pretty much everyone that would be calling him was here right now.

“Dr. Reid,” he answered.

“Hey Spencer, it’s me, Y/N,” you said.

“Oh! Y/N, hi!” he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him before slipping away to the empty break room.

“I’m really sorry to have to ask this but is there any way you could pick Jo up from school and watch her for a few hours. A student dropped a vile of dimethyl sulfoxide in the lab so I need to safely clean it up and then make sure the room gets properly ventilated. I had to cancel the rest of class so I have to clean everyone else’s lab station up too,” you explained.

“Of course, of course,” Spencer readily agreed, “I can watch her for as long as you need but I have to finish my files here so would it be okay if she came to the office just for a little so I can finish up and then I will bring her back to my apartment. I’ll text you the address.”

“Yes, that’s completely fine. Sorry for springing this on you but my babysitter is out of town and I called JJ but she is in New Orleans with Will and the kids,” Y/N apologized.

“It’s no problem. It’s actually the opposite, I am looking forward to it,” Spencer smiled as he hung up the phone.

Spencer knocked on Hotch’s door hesitantly.

“Reid, what can I do for you?” Hotch looked up from the mounds of files on his desk.

“So I kind of have a kid and her mom needs me to pick her up from school and watch her so could she come here until I finish my work?” Spencer quickly rambled.

“You kind of have a kid?” Hotch asked, slightly amused.

“Well, she’s mine but she doesn’t know that I am her father and I just found out about her a week ago,” Spencer explained.

“If I wasn’t a profiler, I would think you were pranking me but you seem to be telling the truth. Yes, your kid can hang out until you finish your work for the day. Normally, I would just let you go early but you know Strauss has been inspecting the BAU with a fine-tooth comb recently,” Hotch stated.

“Thanks, Hotch. I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” Spencer ran out the door.

As Spencer slid on his satchel and was walking towards the elevators, he turned around and sighed. He almost forgot to tell the team.

“Hey guys! Quick announcement! I have a kid and her mom needs me to watch her for a few hours so she’s coming here. However, she doesn’t know that I’m her father so please use your discretion,” Spencer finished and bolted for the stairs.

“Kid, what-” Morgan started to say but the glass doors were already closing behind him.

Spencer didn’t have the time nor desire to fill them in on all of the details. He didn’t want to keep his daughter waiting.

“SPENCER HAS A WHAT?” Garcia screamed as Morgan informed her of the breaking news when she returned from her lunch break.

“That’s all he said and apparently she doesn’t know Spencer is her father so you have to keep your mouth shut, baby girl,” Morgan scolded.

“I will, I will. Do we know how old this kid is? What’s her name? Oh my god, who is the mother?” Garcia asked, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to my tech cave to do something totally unrelated.”

As Garcia stood from leaning on Morgan’s desk, the BAU glass doors opened.

Spencer was hunched over, holding Jo’s hand. Jo was dressed in corduroy pants, a lavender cardigan, and her hair was tied up in two pigtails that were bouncing side to side. Her converse were matching with Spencer’s.

“Well I’ll be damned, Pretty Boy wasn’t lying,” Morgan whispered to Garcia and Prentiss who had now joined them.

“Guys, this is Josephine. Jo, this is Derek, Penelope, and Emily. Can you say hi?” Spencer asked.

“Hi,” Jo responded meekly, scooching closer to Spencer’s leg, the one familiar face for her in the crowd of strangers.

“Hi Josephine! You look adorable! I love your little pigtails,” Penelope knelt down to her height.

“Thank you. My Mommy did them for me,”

Jo replied.

“Okay Jo, let’s go to the round table room so we don’t have to stay out here in the crazy bullpen. Let me just grab my files,” Spencer led Jo to his desk and then up the small flight of stairs.

The rest of the team watched in amazement as Spencer lifted Jo into one of the seats at the table and spun her around in the chair a few times as she started to giggle.

“Who’s the kid?” Rossi asked as he exited his office, having missed the big announcement.

“Reid’s daughter apparently,” Prentiss shrugged with a small smile on her lips.

“Okay, Jo! I’ve finished all my work. Wanna go to my apartment and grab some dinner?” Spencer asked.

Jo was sitting next to him, doodling with pens on extra lined paper. Penelope had also brought in some of her trinkets from her desk for her to play with.

“I miss Mommy,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry but Mommy is going to pick you up from my apartment as soon as she can. Come on, I’ll let you get whatever you want for dinner,” Spencer tried to cheer her up.

“Ice cream?” Jo perked up.

Spencer laughed, “How about we have a real meal for dinner and then we can have some ice cream?”

Jo contemplated this.

“Okay but you have to carry me because my legs are tired,” Jo explained.

“Oh-uh okay, yes I can do that,” Spencer stuttered, suddenly getting nervous that his clumsiness would result in him tripping with Josephine in his arms.

Jo outreached her hands and made a grabby motion and Spencer picked her up and rested her on his left hip, his right hip occupied by his satchel.

“Bye Josephine!” Emily smiled at the little girl.

She gave an enthusiastic wave as Spencer carried her to the elevator.

“What do you want for dinner?” Spencer placed Jo into the child seat in the shopping cart.

“Chicken nuggets!” Jo exclaimed.

“Chicken nuggets, it is,” Spencer pushed the cart to the frozen aisle, grabbing a bag of the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

“How about some smiley fries too?”

Jo nodded with a smile as Spencer opened another freezer door.

“And we should probably have a veggie. How about baby carrots? Do you like carrot sticks?” Spencer questioned.

“Yes, Mommy always makes me eat my veggies or no dessert,” Jo stated.

“So if you eat all your carrot sticks, then you can have ice cream. What flavor do you want?”

“Ummm strawberry please.”

“Good choice,” Spencer smiled.

“We need rainbow sprinkles too, Spencer!” she exclaimed.

“Of course! How could I have almost forgotten!” he chuckled.

Jo yawned after scooping the last spoonful of strawberry ice cream with extra sprinkles into her mouth.

You had texted Spencer you would be there in thirty minutes but he didn’t think Jo was going to last that long. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“Jo, do you want to go to bed?”

He soon realized his mistake as tears started to form in the child’s eyes.

“Where is Mommy? She always tucks me into bed and reads me a bedtime story,” she cried.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spencer quickly stood from his seat and hugged Jo, “Mommy is on her way but I think she would want you to get some rest so I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay?”

Jo nodded and sniffled. Spencer wiped her tears away with his cardigan sleeve. He picked Jo up, getting used to the comforting feeling of her in his arms, and tucked her into his bed.

Spencer looked around at his bookshelves full of technical books and classic novels in other languages but devoid of any colorful picture books that would interest a kid.

“How about I make up a story?” Spencer whispered.

Jo nodded sleepily.

“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess and a goofy knight in the kingdom of uh- Caltechia,” he spoke softly.

“The princess and the knight were madly in love despite how the knight was so clumsy and the princess was so elegant. However, the knight went away to slay the evil dragon and both the knight and the princess were so sad to be apart. When the knight finally returned, he realized the princess had become a queen and she had an equally beautiful daughter who was now the princess. The knight loved them both dearly.”

Spencer looked down to see that Jo was fast asleep. He brushed the stray hairs off of her face and leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He figured there was no harm since Jo was fast asleep and he just wanted to say it to her at least once.

About ten minutes later, a knock sounded at the door as Spencer was washing dishes.

“Hey, I knew you wouldn’t accept money as a form of payment so I got you an extra large coffee, extra sugar,” you handed him the cup.

“Thank you but that really isn’t necessary. I was more than happy to do it. I really want to do it again,” Spencer adamantly said.

“Jo has a tee ball game on Sunday. You are welcome to come and then we could all grab dinner after,” you offered.

“I’ll be there,” Spencer smiled softly.

“Um, where is she?” you asked.

“Oh she’s sleeping in my bed. I’m not exactly sure of her normal bedtime but her eyes were drooping so I figured I should put her to bed. We had dino chicken nuggets, smiley fries, and baby carrots for dinner and then some ice cream. I hope that’s okay,” Spencer whispered as he led you to his room.

“More than okay. Thank you so much. I’m surprised you got her to go to bed. The nights she has stayed at my parent’s, she refused to go to sleep for hours,” you stated as you picked her up.

Jo nuzzled into your neck even though she was still asleep. Spencer watched as you slowly made your way out of the apartment with Jo as to not wake her up.

“See you Sunday,” you whispered, giving him a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer replied.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #cm fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader

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nineteenninety-six · 4 years ago

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Police Station Meet Cute

PROMPT LIST

3. Meeting the love of your life in a police station does not make for a good story to tell the grandchildren, but definitely an interesting one.

Meeting the love of your life in a police station does not make for a good story to tell the grandchildren, but definitely an interesting one.

Their children had tried to stop them from telling the story to their grandchildren in fear that it would give them the wrong ideas but the children were insistent and what is the point of being grandparents if not to indulge your grandchildren.

It was the usual monthly family dinner and all of the children and grandchildren were at Arrow House for the usual Sunday Roast. Dinner had ended and now everybody had gathered in the front room with a bowl of ice cream in their hands and the children were sitting on the floor surrounding the chairs of their grandparents eagerly waiting for the story they heard every week.

"C'mon grandad, the ice cream is melting"

"Alright, alright. Sit down and eat your ice cream" Tommy rolled his eyes at the impatience as he shifted in his chair to get more comfortable, “It was nineteen-twelve and…”

Tommy glared at the hand that was wrapped around his upper arm, gripping so tight it would leave a mark. He had tried to pull away multiple times but the police officer did not budge, determined to drag him straight into the cell himself.

The police officer shoved him into the cell and Tommy barely avoided falling to his knees by the force of his shove but when he turned around to glare at the officer, the officer had already slammed the cell door closed and walked away.

“What a sweetheart” A voice behind him muttered.

Tommy spun around and was surprised to find a young woman around his age sitting in the corner of the cell, he didn’t even realise someone else was in the cell.

“Do you think he was born like that?” Tommy asked

The woman snorted, “Probably. That’s why he became a copper, so he could be miserable all the time”

Tommy laughed as he took a seat on the floor, back on the wall but with enough space between him and the woman so she didn’t get uncomfortable.

“I’m Tommy” He introduced himself.

“(Y/N)”

Tommy turned his head towards her and she shot him a small smile which he returned.

“What did you do to get in here Tommy?” (Y/N) asked

“A copper was giving my aunt trouble so I threatened him” Tommy held his thumb and index finger so that they were close together but not touching, “Just a bit though”

“Are you gonna go after him when you get out?”

“Ah no. They’ll be keeping an eye on me so I’ll have to be on my best behaviour but I also have two brothers”

(Y/N) let out an ‘oh’ once she realised what he was implying.

“Won’t that mean they’ll get in trouble?”

“Only if they’re not careful” Tommy responded before he flipped her question back at her, “Why are you in here?”

“My boss decided to not pay me for this month's work so I decided to make him regret his choice. I told all of the workers that the boss said to take Friday off and then I took my money from his office whilst he was out. I also took a bit for next month because I knew he’d fire me but I don’t think he knows about the money yet. I’ve been sentenced to a day in jail but I’m free after that ”

“Some might say not to bite the hand that feeds you”

“Others might say don’t be a thieving bastard and you won’t lose a day of production and a chunk of money, but hey what do we know”

“Touche”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that but when night fell and they weren’t given a blanket, they curled up with each other, keeping the both of them warm throughout the night.

The following morning after they were led out of the police station, they paused in the courtyard and faced each other,

“It was nice to meet you, Tommy. I must thank you for keeping me company and warm”

Tommy flushed a bit at her words, “It was nice to meet you too.”

(Y/N) gave him one last smile and turned to leave but Tommy quickly shot his hand out and grabbed her arm,

“I-uh, work at Charlie Strong’s yard if you ever want to meet again”

“Charlie’s Yard” (Y/N) repeated to herself before nodding, “I’ll make sure to visit”

“Aw, that’s so cute. I wish I could meet my love like that” One of their granddaughters gushed. At seventeen and with her head always buried in a romance book, she loved everything romance.

“Don’t torment yourself over it dear” (Y/N) smiled at her granddaughter, “Don’t force it. It’ll happen when it happens and you’ll know it. Don’t worry about it”

Tommy looked at his watch and then at his grandchildren, “It’s getting late and you need to get back home because you’ve all got school tomorrow”

Tommy smiled at the whines and groans all the children released, “You’ll be here again next week and I’ll tell you another story”

That perked the children up and soon they were giving their grandparents goodbye kisses and hugs before they left the house, sticking their heads and hands out of their parents’ car waving until their grandparents were out of sight.

Arrow House was quiet and lonely six days out of the week but Tommy and (Y/N) always looked forward to Sundays.

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagines #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #imagines #x reader

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voiceswithoutlips · 4 years ago

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Calico - Chapter Two

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 2K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse.

Click for Tag List

— chapter summary:

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 1 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

I stumbled out of bed with a groan, it was almost noon and my hangover was killing me. Last night I was too stressed so I drowned my worries in a bottle of whisky. Why was adulting so annoying, ugh. The house was quiet, Jason had probably already gone to the shelter. I made my way to the kitchen, my zombie brain screaming for coffee. I like my coffee black and bitter, just like my soul. Kidding, I don’t have a soul.

My phone rang somewhere in the living room. The place looked like a tornado had torn through it. The floor was covered with papers and cushions and clothes and other unidentifiable mess. What the fuck happened last night? By the time I found my phone the ringing had stopped. 28 missed calls from Jason and 2% battery ...great.

I made my way to the exam room, the most likely place for Jason to be. It was just a five minute walk from the house. I was in my pajamas, my hair sticking out and the coffee cup in my hand. It was Sunday, I was grumpy.

There was a half-naked man sitting on the exam table, no not a man, a hybrid. His white fluffy tail was droopy. Long white ears poked from his long black hair, he desperately needed a haircut. His ears were limp on his back. There was a hole in his left ear, it was properly done but too big for a piercing. My eyes widened with realization, I’d seen that before on cattle, his previous owners must’ve tagged him.

The hybrid showed no reaction as I went to stand beside Jason, and directly in front of him. His upper body was muscular, he had a thick neck and washboard abs. He was gorgeous. He had a strong jawline, cute eyes and a small nose. The combination of cute and sexy was deadly. His hands were clasped together and he was hunched over, trying to make himself look small, not an easy feat to achieve.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook,” Jason introduced the hybrid. The bunny stiffened, he didn’t raise his head to look at me. What do I do? I wasn’t good with people, I preferred animals to humans.

“Hello, I’m Y/N,” I greeted. He was sitting so still that you would think he wasn’t even there. Was he even breathing? He was still looking down.

I looked at Jason, I didn’t know what to do. “I found him near the hatch this morning so I brought him in for a checkup.” I nodded.

“Are you hungry? I’m practically starving!” I asked, extending a tentative hand towards the bunny, palm up. He flinched. I kept my hand where it was. I would stand here for hours if I had to. My stubbornness knew no bounds. Minutes passed slowly, Jason was leaning on the counter perfectly at ease, he was a good actor.

Slowly Jungkook took my hand. “Let’s go have breakfast,” I whispered, a smile on my face as I slowly led him to the kitchen. Well kitchen was an overstatement, it was a small room with six refrigerators and two freezers, most of them contained medical supplies. A sad, overused coffee machine and a small stove for “Emergency Ramen”, it was our own special recipe.

I opened the fridge with a “No Science Allowed” poster taped to its door. I pulled out a bunch of greens to make a salad, rabbits need their greens. We always stocked the fridge for humans and the animals. I wasn’t a particularly good cook, I could cook enough to not starve but that was the extent of my cooking skills. A quick chicken salad, eggs and toast and a bunch of pancakes and breakfast was served.

Jungkook was still standing near the door where I had left him, eyes downcast, ears flopped. I was an idiot, a massive idiot, I assumed he would sit at the table on his own. Bad Y/N!

“Jungkook, come sit with me,” I mentally hit myself, it sounded like a command, I was terrible at this. I was used to animals, you tell them what to do, you can’t ask a dog if he’d like to sit with you, but Jungkook was a person. I can be an animal therapist but humans? They were beyond me. I didn’t know how to get to him.

He sat at the table. I pushed the food in front of him, expecting him to eat, another mistake. Hybrids are supposed to obey, they don't do things on their own. I was supposed to tell him what to do. I wanted to pound my head on the table. Stupid Y/N.

“What would you like to eat?” I asked in the gentlest voice possible, at least I hoped it was gentle.

No response.

“Go on this is all for you,” I tried to be encouraging.

Nothing.

“Tell you what, if you finish your breakfast, I’ll give you a treat,” his ears twitched. He tentatively picked up a fork and started eating. His movements were small, he barely made any noise as he chewed but at least he was eating.

I was still confuzzled, it is a word, a made up word, but then again all words are made up words. Confused and puzzled. I had no idea how to approach him, do I treat him like a human or a rabbit. The ‘treat’ card worked but will it work every time? He was taking small bites, I wondered if the food tasted bad. Maybe I forgot to add sugar to the pancakes? Did I forget to season the salad? I sighed internally. He needed a proper meal but sadly, Jason and I were terrible cooks. We lived on take-outs and ramen. Maybe it was time to learn how to cook.

I stood up, he froze. I had to get him used to people. I ignored his stiff posture as I walked to one of the freezers and pulled out a container that held my favorite ice cream. It was ‘ice cream for breakfast’ kind of day. I didn’t bother with bowls, two spoons and I was back in my seat.

“You know this is my absolute favorite ice cream in the entire world. It's called Chocolate Brownie Fudge with Marshmallows. It's like a little piece of heaven in a plastic container,” I offered him a spoon. He looked at it as if it was going to bite him. “Go on, it's your treat!” I encouraged with a grin. It was meant to be a small smile but he was too cute and the ice cream made me happy.

I dug into the ice cream as if my life depended on it. Jungkook watched me curiously, the spoon still in his hand. He hadn’t finished his breakfast but it was a start. For me, it was Sunday, the day where I threw caution to the wind and ate what I wanted. He hesitantly took a spoonful of ice cream, watching me as if I was going to pull the container away from him and tell him it was a joke.

As soon as the spoon touched his tongue his eyes lit up like christmas. “Amazing isn’t it?” I asked, taking another bite. He nodded excitedly. Apparently he had a sweet tooth. I pushed the ice cream towards him and watched him devour the whole thing in minutes. God he was adorable!

I settled down on the couch in my office, I desperately needed a shower but that’d have to wait. Jason had taken Jungkook back to our house, he was going to stay in the guest room for the time being. It's not like I was going to put him in the hybrid shelter building, nobody deserved that and he couldn’t stay as a rabbit forever.

I had a file in front of me, a file on Jungkook. All hybrids are installed with a microchip and registered in the hybrid database as soon as they are born ...or rather created in the labs. Hybrids couldn’t procreate, they were made in labs owned by big corporations. Jason had scanned Jungkooks microchip, the file contained everything about his life.

He was created in Corebear Tech’s lab and sold at the age of six to a wealthy family as a pet for their son. He was sent back to the company when he was twelve because he had grown too big for a rabbit hybrid. Corebear Tech then sold him to Apexi Pharmaceuticals and I guess that’s where Yonu found him.

I felt …I didn’t know what I felt. Maybe a sense of defeat. Jungkook was twenty-three, he was in that lab for eleven years. He was just one year younger than me. I was lost. I couldn’t even imagine what he must’ve gone through. There was no way I was going to let Apexi take him back. I called Song Hwa and gave her the file. After all we had evidence to collect and a case to build.

“Not this again!!” I ran through the front door as soon as I smelled smoke in our kitchen. Jason was standing in front of the stove fanning a pot with a newspaper.

“I was cooking rice, I don’t know what happened,” he said opening the windows.

I took a peek, the rice was black, utterly totally burnt. “Jason …you’re supposed to add water to cook it…”

“Oh,” Jason loved to cook, the problem was he just couldn’t. I was 200% sure that he was cursed by some evil witch. The moment Jason tries to cook, all hell breaks loose.

“You’re on clean-up duty,” I grumbled. At least it wasn’t that bad, the cake incident was still fresh in my mind. Once upon a time, when we still lived in our dorm, Jason decided to bake a cake …in a pressure cooker. Needless to say, it was a disaster. The cooker blew up, damaging half the kitchen. Thankfully no one was injured.

I softly knocked on the guestroom door. Jungkook had spent the whole day in his room, not that I blamed him. New place, new people, it was bound to be scary.

“Hey Jungkook, you want to come out for dinner?” I asked. I could deliver him ramen to his room if he wanted but I hoped he’d come out and eat with us. Yes, we were having ramen, Jason and I still lived as we had lived in our dorm, the only difference was our house was nicer and we had a garden.

Jungkook opened the door, he hadn’t locked it. He scrunched his nose as soon as he stepped out. The house was full of burnt smell from Jason’s cooking adventure. The smell must be stronger for him.

“Yeah, Jason tried to cook rice. Pro tip, never eat the food that Jason makes, he’s a terrible cook. Do you want to come eat with us?” I asked. I got a small nod in return.

“Let’s gooooo!! Do you like ramen? We have a really good recipe, well its nothing special, we just throw in some bacon and rice cakes and of course a fuckton of cheese,” I rambled as he followed me to the dining table. “You can never go wrong with cheese, unless you’re Jason,” Jason made protesting noises, I rolled my eyes at him.

Dinner was a bit awkward. Jason and I kept trying to make Jungkook talk but it didn’t work. The poor bunny hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d arrived at Calico. The only thing we got out of him were small nods and silence. I wondered if we should consult a therapist. He was human after all and he needed help.

I heard a sharp gasp from my left. Jungkook’s eyes were huge, he was frozen in his chair. He had accidently knocked the salt shaker off the table.

“I’m so..sorry. Please don’t punish me. I’ll do anything,” his voice was so small, it made my heart ache.

“Oh honey no!” I said as I held his hands. “It was an accident. You remember what I told you? This is a safe space, you’ll never be punished here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?” I was mentally cursing myself for holding his hands on impulse. What if he didn’t like people invading his personal space? My worries were put to rest as he squeezed my hands.

“Okay,” he said in the smallest voice.

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calif0rnia-lovers · 4 years ago

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Vanilla Kisses.

A/N: A golden request for an underrated daddy

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Reader

Warnings: it is Sinful Saturday, so smutty Bish with his future baby mommy

Request: Prompt #23: “God dammit, now all I can think about right now is you licking my cock like it’s that ice cream cone.”

Summary: There is nothing half ass about Bishop Losa. When you share that you wouldn’t mind starting a family, your husband takes the matter very seriously. If that means a quickie during a family dinner before a club run he’s game.

Words: 2.4K

"Wanna taste?"

The teasing nature of your voice causes the corners of your husband’s lips to turn up.

Bishop slides the backdoor shut, muffling the laughter from the gathering outside. Instead of speaking, he lifts his beer to his lips and takes a sip. He allows himself to give you a once over. In the chaos of the afternoon the two of you haven’t had much of a chance to speak. The last time he was close enough to say “hi” you were shoving a bag of patties and steaks into his hand before following Letty to the car for the rest of the groceries.

Sundays are for family dinner. You and Bishop host the boys of the MC for dinner in your home. With the California sun in full blaze, Bishop manned the grille while you kept everyone entertained.

He notes that you’re wearing one of his shirts. The button down covers your black bikini top, the fabric tied to rest just above your navel. His eyes admire how your hips fill in the light wash denim cut-offs and the contrast it holds to skin. His tongue passes over his lips as you lean forward to rest your elbows against the marble island giving him a reminder as to why they were his favorite shorts.

"Hmm?"

Tilting your head to the side, you watch as Bishop’s gaze lingers before trailing up to meet yours. Lifting the half-eaten ice cream cone in your hand, you wait until your tongue has captured the dripping vanilla to return your gaze to his. The smile on your lips grows as you watch him swallow another swig of beer, his eyes following the path of your tongue until it disappears behind your lips.

"The ice cream..." You smile innocently. "At least that's what I meant. I just figured you did the way you were...staring."

"I've been looking for you."

"And you found me."

Bishop watches silently for a moment as you refocus on finishing your ice cream. Crossing the room, he places his empty beer bottle on the counter alongside you. He shifts so that he's standing behind you. The warmth of his palms graze the sliver of skin the peeks out as you playfully offer him the ice-cream cone.

As you tilt your head to get a look at him, his fingers gently draw circles along the curve of your hip. His brow rises as your eyes briefly meet his.

"What's the hostess doing hiding out in the kitchen?"

Gently massaging your skin, Bishop smiles as you adjust your posture, guiding your hips back. Pressing against him, you shift your hips teasingly brushing your ass against the bulge pressing against you.

"Trying to enjoy my ice cream in peace." You shrug lightly. "I had to literally fight for it. You know the boys are vultures when it comes to this stuff."

You allow your tongue to capture the vanilla that has dripped onto your fingers. Your tongue follows the trail slowly before capturing the drops that have trickled down the side of your ice cream cone. Your eyes flick up to meet his as you allow your tongue to pass over your lips. The innocent smile you send his way pulls a groan from Bishop’s lips.

“God dammit, now all I can think about right now is you licking my cock like it’s that ice cream cone.”

“Too bad,” you sigh. His brown eyes darken as his tongue passes over his lips once you take another lick from your cone. “You shouldn’t have brought your boys over for dinner.”

Bishop lightly pats your hip, smiling as you glance over your shoulder at him. Ducking down he places a kiss against your lips. His touch drifts to your neck keeping your lips pressed against his for a moment longer.

"I know what you're doing," you giggle as you pull away.

"Mmm?" His lips move to your jaw, lingering as his nose brushes against your skin. He places a kiss against your cheek before resting his chin against your shoulder. "And what's that?"

"I'm not sharing my ice cream with you."

"That's okay. I had something much sweeter in mind," he chuckles, his lips moving to your ear. "Figured you could help me find it in the garage...I think we gotta go get the rest of the ice cream since you ate the last of it."

Despite the shaking of your head, the smile on your lips causes Bishop to press another kiss against your cheek.

“I could care less if your club got ice cream.” You sigh nonchalantly. “They eat us out of the house every week. The least I should be able to do is enjoy my ice cream in peace. You go get the ice cream yourself.”

“I think its a two-man job,” he hints.

“Then go get one of your boys to help you,” you giggle as he playfully squeezes your hips. “I’m off the clock.”

"Sure, you weren't just waiting for me?"

Shaking your head, you take another lick of vanilla.

“I was avoiding you.” You laugh lightly, your throat clearing as the warmth of his lips brush against your ear.

Now it’s Bishop’s turn to laugh. He chuckles, the sound vibrating across your neck.

“And why’s that?”

“You keep eye-fucking me in front of our guests,” your words temporarily halt Bishop’s actions.

The corner of his lips flick up into a smile, but his sparkling eyes say it all.

Your eyes roll before he can get out a response.

“And don’t even try and deny it,” you bite back your smile as the warmth of his touch drags along your stomach.

“I can’t help that my wife is the most beautiful woman in the world,” he hums against your neck. Gently sucking against your skin, he chuckles as you shrug away from his lips.

"I didn’t say I fault you for staring," you giggle, your words earning you a smile. “It’s just not the right time.”

“I thought ‘whenever fucking possible’ was the right time,” Bishop teases, his lips leaving an open mouth kiss against your neck.

Taking another lick of your icecream you try your best to ignore the shiver that rolls down your spine. Suppressing the groan rising in your throat, you concentrate on the melting ice cream silently praying it will be enough to cool down your body. The soft tickle of his beard ghosts over the curve of your neck. A warmth passes over your skin as your own words are repeated back to you.

You had used those exact words on him just a week ago. You were in the clubhouse seated across his lap, fingers toying with his hair as Bishop concentrated on his phone. You’d recently programmed his calendar, something he never thought would ever happen, with the dates of your ovulation cycle. None of it made sense to him, but he entertained you as you explained it to him.

“Can’t we just keep having sex like normal?”

“Yeah,” you’d huffed. “But if we have sex between these days we have the best chance of getting pregnant.”

“Every one of those days?” His brows piqued with interest pulling a giggle from you.

“If I say whenever fucking possible will you remember to look at this? Bish, I'm serious-"

“Of course I’ll look at it...I just never thought I’d be scheduling sex with my wife,” he chuckled as your eyes rolled. He placed a kiss against your cheek before mumbling “Just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll come.”

Bishop’s tongue catches the ice cream dripping down your wrist, his lips pressing a kiss against your skin.

"Hey!" You giggle as he shifts your wrist so that he can steal the last of your ice cream.

"I think right now’s a good time,” he chuckles. His lips are cool as they press against the warmth of your neck.

The cool seems to stand as a stark contrast to your blazing skin. He places a soft kiss along your jaw. By the time he reaches your cheek, you’re tilting your head to bring your lips to his. You shift against him the grunt that escapes his lips causing you to reapply the pressure digging his fingers into your hips.

“What?” Turning in his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck. You meet his dark eyes, your teeth tugging against your bottom lip. “You want me to sneak off with you and have sex with a houseful of guests? Like we're fucking teenagers?”

"The guests are outside,” he responds. “Besides, it’s on the calendar.”

The counter pulls a smile to your lips.

“True, but we can wait until everyone leaves.”

“I have club business later," Bishop reminds you, the both of you releasing a sigh as you remember the conversation about the matter from earlier this morning. “We’re out of town for a few days.”

Your gaze crosses the room as the back door slides open. A smile finds your face as Letty pops her head inside.

"Hey, didn't you store the extra ice cream in the garage?" She quickly nods over her shoulder towards the laughter drifting into the kitchen. "Angel and Coco are fighting over who gets the last of it out here."

You try your best not to ignore Bishop's grin as you nod, your hand finding his chest.

"I was just telling Y/N we should go grab the ice cream from the freezer," he grins as his hands grip your hips pulling you away from the island.

"We'll bring it right out!" You call over your shoulder as Bishop leads you around the island and towards the hall.

You stumble into the garage behind him in a matter of seconds, managing to slam the door shut before your fingers tug against the front of his shirt.

The weight of his body presses you against the door, his fingers digging into the softness of your hips. You wrap your arms around him, fingers tightening in his hair as his touch rolls over your hips before trailing down to grab your ass. His lips and teeth tease a groan from your lips, the desire to kiss him deeper distracting you from the task at hand. You take his face in your hands, training his lips to yours as he hastily rids you of your shorts. The softness of his touch against the warmth of your thighs tugs your teeth against his bottom lip. His fingers drag along your folds the slow circles he presses against you coaxing more wetness from you. He slips his middle and index finger inside of you, the pressure he builds coming quicker than either of you would like, but you welcome it.

"We're gonna have to make this fast," he huffs as you unbuckle his jeans. "They'll be coming looking for that fucking ice cream-"

"Then hurry up."

Lifting his fingers to your mouth, you watch his jaw clench as you take his fingers between your lips. His eyes follow them as they brush against his knuckles taking in the taste of you. Your playful eyes meet his gaze as your tongue roll of his fingers before your lips retreat. Your giggles fill the air as he yanks against your waist, your feet leaving the ground.

The trip to the freezer doesn't come quick enough.

Your mind is swimming, the urge to get him undressed and keep him close at the same time making it difficult to know where to keep your hands. It's up to Bishop to move you to stable ground. Lifting you onto the freezer, he grins as your fingers latch on to his shirt tugging him closer.

Your eyes follow the movements of his hands as he focuses on releasing himself from his jeans. Your tongue drags over your lips as you watch him stroke himself. The lingering of your eyes, and the way your teeth tug at your bottom lip, as you watch his movements cause the corner of his mouth to curl up into a smile. Bishop knew the sight all too well. If he let you give in to the urge to have him in your mouth your time would be blown.

A chuckle passes over Bishop's lips as his hands hook beneath your knees tugging you forward.

“Another time, baby girl,” he chuckles as you pout. “I want those pretty lips wrapped around me when no one else is around.”

“What if I said that’s all I want right now,” you counter, his darkened eyes following the path of your hand as you gently stroke his length.

"You can't always get your way," he chuckles.

His eyes drop down, trained on your hips as he presses into you. Your head falls back, your teeth tugging at your bottom muffling the moan that escapes your lips. His arm secures around your waist as your legs wrap around him. His left-hand drifts to the nape of your neck before gathering your loose curls in his palm. His grip tightens, tugging your head back exposing your neck so that his lips can drag along the length of your neck. He sucks against your skin. The attempt to keep his groans muffled increases the pressure he applies raising a bruise to the surface. His hips move at an agonizingly slow pace, the thrusts of his hips matching the pressure of his thumb against your clit.

Each thrust of his hips push the laughter, coming from just beyond the walls of your garage, further out your mind. Until they're forgotten. The impatient grip in his hair causes Bishop's pace to quicken. His thrusts become deliberate, each upward stroke pushing you closer to the edge. He keeps his pace steady as he uses the unevenness of your breaths as his guide.

Between the pressure of his hips, and the coaxing of his thumb, you're fingers are digging into his back in a matter of a few shorts minutes. A gasp fills the air drowning out his chuckle as your walls tighten around him. Bishop holds your hips tight against him, pushing his hips into yours with slow languid strokes that guide you through your orgasm.

The high begins to ebb away as he presses kisses against your neck and shoulder. His palms rub against the warmth of your thighs. The moment he feels the quivering of your muscles subside, he pulls your hips forward. He chuckles as a squeal escapes your lips, a shiver rushing down your spine as he begins to thrust deeper into you.

The words of endearment he whispers against your skin are lost beneath the gasps filling the air as Bishop's hips quickly snap into yours. The touch of his skin and the warmth of his strokes against your over sensitive walls set tingles across your body. The high that nearly faded just a few seconds before rushes back to the surface. Much quicker this time as his hips move relentlessly against yours. He manages to get off a few more unsteady, sloppy thrusts before you're cuming again and he's following shortly.

Bishop's grip remains tight around you, his lips pressing soft kisses against your lips, his hand gently massaging the base of your spine.

The two of you remain tangled for a few minutes, the kisses you share lingering as your breathing starts to stabilize.

"If that didn't work," he mumbles against the corner of your mouth. "I don't know what will."

#let me know what you think?#sinful saturday #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc #imagines

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everythinggisnotokay · 2 years ago

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everything is not okay (chapter 1)

I grew up in a very complicated house. Don’t get me wrong, I grew up in a very privileged complicated house. For 13 years of my life, I lived the perfect life. I had an amazing childhood. I grew up with parents that doted on me and my little brother. We had movie Sundays, where we would go to the cinema and we would take turns choosing the movie. For the most part, they did everything a child would ever ask for. Sometimes, they would miss my birthday but at the end of the night they still try to make it there for us. Ice cream cakes and whatever gifts we wanted. But by 13, that is when everything changed. Talk about the dream. My best friends at the elite private international school would always tell me how envious they were that we were a perfect family. For them, their parents were either divorced before third grade or they unwillingly realised that they were the child of their mistress mum - a truth hard to swallow but common in our Asian culture. We would take time to take them to dinner at restaurants, to show them that we were a perfect family. Then it happened. It happened fast. Like an avalanche raining down on us until we couldn’t breathe. A bad business deal my father made. A mistake my mother couldn’t forgive. A mistake she single-handedly resolved for years to come, while he sits in despair and changes as a man with every year that passes. I did not recognise it at first. They tried their best to shield it from us. But eventually we knew what was happening. My brother pulled out of school in the middle of the semester. My mother crying most nights. I watched my mother at the heights of her years, accomplishing her dreams, crumbling down, left with almost nothing. We knew. But we didn’t know what to do. The fights became consistent. A constant in our lives. It grew louder and louder everyday. I retreated to the corner of my room. They don’t know how to communicate with me. But they still believed in me. With the last of our luck and pennies, my mother sent me abroad when I was 17. I lived and learned who I was. A privilege later afforded by my brother and the guilt I still carry at 32. Throughout the years, I never knew how their dysfunctional relationship would have an effect on us. But it did, and it was for the worst. But how long until you stop playing the victim? Other people have had it worse, at least they were always there and we still have movie Sundays, and I still get to pick the movie for the week. But I guess you always think your parents are your heroes. That their relationship is what you would strive to achieve later in life. I thought I would get married around the same age that they did. They were, for an Asian couple in the 90s, progressively married later at 32 but here I am staring at the calendar and counting down the days, realising that it is not going to happen this year. Realising that I haven’t had a meaningful relationship since I was 26. Their relationship, it made me yearn for any type of love given my way even if it came with conditions and red flags. Even if I knew that it wasn’t the right love for me. And I gave it away, as easy as candy just because I wanted them to stay. My little brother, on the other hand, bare the bulk of it. He had to grow up fast. He soon realises that one shouldn’t settle until it feels right. But it never felt right. And now he is 28 and wondering why. You see, my parents are divorced but still live together. They wake up to each other. But just in different rooms. They eat breakfast. But at separate times. And most of the days, they still fight and it is constant and it is still louder and louder every day.

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taexual · 4 years ago

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (9)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: none, just the frustration of knowing that their plan to fake-date is 100% going to fail

words: 5.2k

chapter nine

That Sunday night, Jungkook picked you up from your dormitory, having no idea that you’d just had a breakdown over what to wear when going to visit the parents of your childhood-best-friend-turned-fake-boyfriend.

You walked out of the building trying to look like you did this every night and Jungkook – who had a breakdown as soon as he saw the way you looked and realized that speaking was most likely going to be a problem for him tonight – tried to act like this wasn’t anything unusual, either.

“You look really good,” he told you politely – like a fake-boyfriend was supposed to – and even opened the passenger door of his car for you.

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him as he helped you inside even though you were perfectly capable of climbing into a car yourself – you’d opted out of heels and a dress out of fear of looking too formal, so your outfit wasn’t an obstacle. “We’re not actually dating.”

“I’m just helping you get into a car,” Jungkook said nonchalantly but he thanked God you didn’t feel how clammy his hands were. “That’s what friends do.”

You snorted. “Right. Okay.”

“Don’t overthink this,” he added before closing your door and jogging around the front of the car to the driver’s side. He climbed in and his eyes settled on you right away. “I… thank you. I didn’t get to say that before.”

You exhaled slowly. “Thank me after. We don’t even know if this is going to work.”

“What do you mean? How could it not?” he asked, truly thinking that his plan was fool-proof. He saw the doubt in your eyes, though, and felt the need to reassure you with a scoff and a lie, “I’m not going to catch feelings and blow the whole thing, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Famous last words,” you told him with a serious look—that was more of a glance, really, because any talk about feelings made your head spin.

Jungkook only snickered at this. “I mean it. I’m very determined.”

“T-that’s not it, though,” you said then. “That’s not the part I’m, uh, worried about.”

“Well, tell me, then,” he encouraged. “Let’s get the doubts out of the way before we do this.”

“What if your parents don’t believe us?” you asked, turning your head towards him but not daring to raise your eyes above his waist. Which wasn’t that good of an idea as you came to learn as soon as your eyes captured the glistening buckle of his belt and his white dress shirt tucked inside of his pants. It’s been a while since you’d seen him dressed in something that wasn’t all-black and ripped.

“Why wouldn’t they?” he asked. “We’ve lied to them before, remember?”

“Yeah but that was, like, lying about not eating all the ice cream in the fridge. Kid stuff,” you said. “Now you’re straight-up going to fool your parents into thinking you’re dating someone.”

His features morphed in offense but, of course, you didn’t see that – his belt looked completely unfazed.

“And that’s so hard to believe, isn’t it?” Jungkook asked.

His voice gave away his emotions and you raised your eyes, somewhat surprised to learn that your words may have been insulting.

“I didn’t mean it like—” you started to say but found it pointless all of a sudden and changed the direction, “well, actually, I don’t know. I don’t know how many relationships you’ve been in for the past however-many-years that it’s been since we’ve last talked.”

You knew very well how many years it’s been and he knew you knew. Calling you out wasn’t something he even considered, however, because there were far more important matters to clear up now.

“Do you want an approximate number,” he asked, his face stoic now, “or should I break it all down in detail?”

You pursed your lips involuntarily, looking away again as your fingers toyed with the edge of your handbag. “Approximate is fine. But that’s not the point—”

“Zero,” he said. “I’ve never dated.”

Your eyes shot to his. “No. That’s—alright, no. Let’s establish something first, okay? Honesty is important if we’re doing this. We’re already going to be lying to our parents so let’s not lie to each other.”

“I’m not lying to you. I’ve seriously never dated.”

You didn’t believe that for a single second. “You’ve never been on one date?”

“Well, I went on that date with your cousin when we were nine,” he said, “but she threw a rock at me after I held her hand, and I don’t remember how it ended. Does that count?”

You snorted, unable to help yourself. “I remember that. Everyone thought she gave you a concussion.”

“Yeah. So, I just decided to stop dating from then on.”

“Be serious,” you warned.

“I am serious,” he insisted. “Well, not about that part, but I really didn’t date. Relationships are a lot of work, you need time for that. Dedication. Maturity.”

“The three things you don’t have.”

“Exactly,” he grinned, his ego too big to allow this little bruise to sting.

“Alright, well, if that’s really true—”

“It is.”

“—then your parents are definitely going to have a hard time believing you’re in a serious relationship. They’ll see right though this,” you said and he looked away, thinking. “I mean, the day before your car accident you were enjoying your single life, and now you’re in a serious relationship all of a sudden?”

“We’ll tell them we’ve been dating since before the accident,” he said. “My mom saw you at the hospital when you came to visit me, so it all adds up.”

You swallowed. “Okay. Let’s say we do that. But still – you’ve never been in a serious relationship before. Why would they believe that you’ve changed your mind? Maybe they’ll think you’re mocking them by bringing some random girl over—”

“You’re not a random girl, though,” he disagreed. “You’re you. That’s why they have to believe us.”

“I don’t—but why does it have to be me? Because we were friends once upon a time?”

“Well… yeah,” Jungkook said, not finding a better way to tell you that, even if you hadn’t been friends before, he wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone else. “Because of that.”

Exhaling and releasing some of your doubts, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know…”

He sighed, knowing that your uncertainty was going to suffocate you before the night was over but not knowing how to ease it. The truth was, he wasn’t absolutely sure what awaited you two in the future, but he really did believe that the dinner tonight was going to be a success.

“Look,” he started, “I get where you’re coming from, really. I do. And, if I did this with someone else, then my parents would definitely kick us both to the curb as soon as we showed up at their house. It wouldn’t make sense, like you said,” he paused, accidentally adding a dramatic flair to his speech, “but it’s you. Y-you… you make sense. Even if I’ve never dated before, dating you would make sense.”

If you would have been capable of any rational thought at that moment, you would've probably given in and admitted that he did have a point. The two of you had grown up together, it wouldn’t be so hard to believe that you eventually found your way back to each other and started a relationship. However, you were most positively not in your right mind as every organ inside of you was suddenly shutting down and making it very hard to sit still and not suffocate, so you chose not to say anything.

“Hmm,” you only managed, afraid to open your mouth in case you’d sound like a cat giving birth.

Dating you would make sense. Dating you would make sense. Dating you would—

“So, can we go now?” Jungkook asked after checking the time on the dashboard of the car. “We’ve been sitting here for over ten minutes, talking about this. I’m afraid I’ll lose all of my cold appeal if we keep going.”

Startled to hear that, you started to say, “it hasn’t been ten minutes…” only to check the clock and learn that, “oh, wow, it has.”

“Yes,” he said. “Time sure flies when you’re overthinking things.”

You glared at him – earning an endearing grin from him in return – and shook your head.

“Fine, let’s go,” you said then. “You’re the one who suggested clearing all doubts anyway.”

“Well, did it work?” he asked, starting his car.

“Not really,” you admitted. It actually made it worse since your heart seemed to have started to beat in many different places all throughout your body, no longer content with just your chest. “But it will be fine. If your parents don’t immediately kick me out of the house, of course.”

“They won’t. Don’t worry.”

“I’m trying not to,” you said. “But on top of everything else, I’m also naturally anxious when it comes to dinners with adults.”

He gave you a confused look. “You’re an adult.”

“No, but you know what I mean,” you groaned. “Parents are a different kind of adults.”

“Okay,” he chuckled, not trying to mock you because he really did understand. Then, in a yet another attempt to make you feel better, he awarded you with his million-dollar smile that he must have stolen from Prince Charming himself as he said, “if it helps, I’ll hold your hand through it. And I promise the dinner will go by smoothly.”

Jungkook started to keep his promise of holding your hand as soon as you stepped out of the car outside of his parents’ house. You didn’t say anything – choosing to give him a grateful smile instead – and followed him to the front porch.

In the few seconds that it took for his mother to open the door of this larger-than-necessary mansion, your heart dropped to your stomach several times and, if Jungkook hadn’t been squeezing your hand every now and then, you probably would have bolted and returned back to campus. What you were about to do was insane—

But there was no time to reconsider because, all of a sudden, Jungkook’s mother was in front of you, her pleasant smile turning into a surprised one as soon as she spotted you next to her son.

“Oh! Hi!” she said to you, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes, “I wasn’t aware you were going to—”

“Yeah, I wanted us to come together tonight,” Jungkook said and lifted your intertwined hands until it attracted his mother’s attention. She seemed even more surprised now. “I’d say I’d introduce you but you know each other, of course.”

“I—we do, of course. It’s always a pleasure to see you,” his mother pulled you into a hug – while Jungkook kept on holding your hand – never once making it seem like you weren’t welcome here. “Well, come inside, both of you! I was just setting up the table.”

She did make her surprise obvious as her eyes remained glued to your hands but, in her defense, she played her shock off very casually as she ushered you both into the dining room.

“Your father will be down shortly,” she told Jungkook. “I’ll go get the plates.”

“Could I help?” you offered. It came naturally – just like shaking her head came naturally for Jungkook’s mother.

“Not at all, love, you two get comfortable,” she said. “Dinner will be ready in a moment.”

His mother walked back towards the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook alone but, with an involuntary glance over her shoulder – because she truly couldn’t help her surprise – she still managed witness the two of you continue your act as Jungkook pulled back your chair, helping you into it.

She smiled after catching this brief moment and went to check the oven, hoping that her husband – who was already climbing down the stairs – wasn’t going to make this dinner awkward.

You had to admit, Jungkook’s father didn’t react to you being here in the way you’d expected.

“What a wonderful surprise,” was the first thing he said once he saw you. You stood up to say hello but he was quick to dismiss you with a homely smile, “no, no, sit, sit! We’re about to have dinner.”

It was a funny sort of miracle how neither of his parents seemed to find the courage to outright ask what you were doing here. You had a feeling they didn’t want to offend you by asking – you did help them locate their son when he momentarily went off the grid last Sunday – but you and Jungkook couldn’t build his reputation as a trustworthy son without making the—fake—status of your relationship clear.

“I hope it’s okay that we came together,” Jungkook said when his mother brought the main course to the table.

“Of course!” she said, playing the role of a flawless hostess. “There’s plenty of food for all. And it’s nice to see you two here together again.”

You swallowed with a nervous glance at the boy next to you – who was clutching your hand under the table – but Jungkook never lost his composure. He seemed to have really planned this out. Or maybe he was just good at improvising.

“Yeah, we, um… we’ve been talking for a while now,” he said. Your stomach clenched uncomfortably but you hoped no one noticed you cringe. “Not in the way we used to, though.”

“No?” his mother took a seat next to his father, opposite the two of you. “Well, I suppose that makes sense, it’s been a while, after all. You’re all grown up now.”

Still no question to clarify the state of your relationship. Jungkook could feel himself start to grow agitated. But perhaps he should have seen this coming – his parents’ way of dealing with unexpected problems was pretending that they weren’t problems at all.

“We are grown up,” Jungkook said, throwing his father a sideways glance – which he ignored by not even lifting his head from the still-empty plate in front of him – and then looking back at his mother. “Which is why, I felt like it was important to let you know that we are back together now. Really, together this time.”

That got his father to raise his eyes. “Hm?”

“Yeah, we’re—we caught up with each other and decided to give a relationship a try,” he said, lying with relative ease even under his father’s stern gaze. You sure were glad both of his parents had their eyes glued to him and didn’t catch the unpleasant expression on your face. “We’ve been dating for a while now.”

“That is great news, my love!” his mother exclaimed and you weren’t sure which one of you she was addressing as she looked at you both. You barely had enough time to put on your best smile before, a moment later, her eyes returned to you again, “oh! Were the two of you already together when you came to see him the hospital?”

“I—” you looked at Jungkook for help. “We—”

“Yes,” he said with a warning squeeze of your hand under the table.

“Yes!” you repeated. “Yes, we were. I just—I didn’t think it was the right time to announce our relationship, you know? Since we were at the hospital, and all.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” his mother nodded, understanding. “Well, regardless, I’m very glad you decided to tell us tonight. A toast?”

She lifted her glass of wine – how typical of the Jeon household to turn every surprising turn of events into something to celebrate – and the rest of you followed.

The dinner went by surprisingly smoothly after that – just like Jungkook had told you it would – and, thanks to your past, his parents never made you two go through the story of “how you two met.” Instead, they asked you how you were doing at school and what you planned to do in the future. They seemed impressed to hear about your achievements – and even more impressed to hear about your ambitions – and Jungkook couldn’t help the proud smile on his face because he knew his parents were going to fall in love with you all over again.

“I must say, I was surprised when you two showed up together tonight,” his mother told you once your plates were clear, gracefully holding her third glass of wine in her hand. This woman could get blind-drunk and still remain one of the most elegant people you’ve ever met. “But I really shouldn’t have been, should I? It’s been a long time coming.”

“It really has,” his father agreed. You couldn’t decipher his tone and weren’t quite sure if there was supposed to be a hidden meaning behind his words.

His gaze was so intense, however, that you feared it was going to penetrate your mind and catch you in a lie. Lowering your eyes, you smiled and chose to sit here quietly because that reduced your chances of saying the wrong thing and ruining this.

“We’re glad to welcome you back into our family, though,” Jungkook’s mother added. “I always felt like we were missing something by the table at our Sunday night dinners.”

“Well, our son was what was missing most of the time,” his father interjected and you could feel the jolt that went through Jungkook’s body as his hold on your hand tightened. “But it seems like we’ll see a lot more of you now, yes?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said and then cleared his throat. He thought he sounded like a child every time he spoke to his father. “You know I’m trying to be more responsible.”

“That’s good,” his father said. “I hope this motivation isn’t short-lived.”

You couldn’t help your curiosity as you lifted your gaze to look at the man who’d fathered the boy next to you because, more and more, it was starting to sound like he was talking to a random neighborhood kid who’d misbehaved instead of his own child.

And yet, the look in Jungkook’s father’s eyes was warm. He wished well. He may have acted like he was thinking of the future of his company but, really, he seemed to have been genuinely worried about his son. He’s always been worried about Jungkook but the way he chose to express this worry – by neglecting instead of nurturing, by scolding instead of helping – wasn’t the most effective and his mother had been the one who tried to make up for it.

Just like right now, as she coughed coolly, diverting your attention from his father and giving her son a supportive smile.

“I’m sure it’s not,” she said. “He’s got a determined face. He’s not giving up.”

“I’m not,” Jungkook confirmed and looked at you with such care in his eyes that, for a moment, you forgot that this was all an act. “She’s helping me remain motivated.”

“Well, good,” his father said – and, for what seemed like the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t immediately turn his head in the direction of his voice, choosing to look at you for a moment longer instead – as he straightened in his chair. “Don’t lose her.”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook said, following the request you’d made in the car – he was going to be lying to his parents, but he was going to be honest with you, “I won’t.”

Even though the dinner turned out to be unexpectedly bearable and even pleasant, you still hoped you’d get to leave as soon as your plates were empty but Jungkook’s mother proved that she wasn’t just treating you nicely because you were a guest in her house – she was treating you nicely because she genuinely loved having you around again. So, instead of letting you leave, she insisted on serving dessert and then, much to your and Jungkook’s horror, taking the old photo-albums out.

You were certain that these pictures were going to trigger some sort of long-suppressed traumas as you and Jungkook stared at each other with wide eyes, alarms going off in both of your heads.

“Oh, this is a good one!” his mother said, coming back with a pale yellow album. “It’s from when you two were toddlers, so you probably don’t even remember these.”

“We might remember the pictures,” Jungkook pointed out carefully, not wanting to hurt her feelings, “we’ve seen them before.”

“Well, I should hope you did. Pictures were made to be looked at,” she said in an oddly profound way and then patted the couch on each side of herself, indicating for you and him to sit. “I know you two kids must have plans of your own, so I’m not going to bring the entirety of our photo library out. But, bear with me here, okay? It’s been so long since I’ve had you both in the same room.”

You swallowed thickly, realizing now that, in your suffering over your lost friendship with Jungkook, you hadn’t even considered the pain your fall-out brought upon your families who treated you both like you were their children.

“We, um—we have time for one photo-album,” you said and his mother’s face lit up. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen the pictures anyway.”

And it really has as you found yourself struggling to remember the context of the pictures – even though you had heard the stories about your early years so many times before – as Jungkook’s mother flipped through them, chuckling and cooing at how cute you looked when you were getting your diaper changed. Or how ridiculously easy it was to get you or Jungkook to stop screaming for no reason and photograph you.

“We just had to put you both in the same crib,” his mother said. “Ever since you were born, you were both fussy babies. You’d eat, you’d rest, you’d interact, and you would still keep crying. But your mom and I figured out a solution one night when we were tired. We moved Jungkook to your crib and the crying stopped almost immediately.”

You recalled hearing about this now that she mentioned it, but the story seemed to gain a new meaning now.

“We weren’t sure what would happen if we did this,” she continued, flipping to a new page where several pictures of you and Jungkook laying next to each other in the crib were taken, “but you seemed to calm down around each other. So, whenever we would come over to your house or vice versa, we’d leave you two to yourselves and, us, adults, would actually be able to have a night-in like in the old days.”

“And you weren’t afraid we would get into a fight when left alone?” Jungkook asked, always one to wreck a sweet moment as he mimicked tiny baby fists and the boxing fight he had in mind.

His mother laughed, shaking her head.

“You’d never. You didn’t even cry when you had to share toys with each other. It surprised us, actually,” she said and then she looked at you with the same warm gaze that Jungkook possessed, “your mom and I thought that this was because we had been best friends for years before you two were born, you know? We kept joking how our kids were naturally made to be best friends as well.”

You smiled but, once again, it was Jungkook who made a comment, “huh. Who knew friendships were hereditary.”

“No, no, I think there was something more than just an inherited friendship,” his mother disagreed with a soft shake of her head, “you two couldn’t even talk – you could scarcely sit unsupported – and yet you shared this calming effect on each other. There seemed to be this connection between you from the very beginning. It was almost bizarre at times,” she looked at you again as she continued, “one time, you dropped your favorite plushie through the gap in the crib and it landed on the floor. Jungkook, sitting on my lap as your mother and I talked in the kitchen, started to cry. Just like that. Completely out of the blue.”

“Maybe he heard me crying over the lost toy?” you suggested.

“No, that’s just the thing – you weren’t crying. He was,” she said. “But he couldn’t have known that you dropped the toy because your room wasn’t visible from where we were sitting. It was like he could somehow feel your distress. It was most peculiar and yet so sweet. It charmed everyone’s hearts whenever we told them. They, of course, thought we were exaggerating this, but—”

“I can see why they’d think that,” Jungkook interjected with a smile for his mother – as a response to the glare she gave him after he’d said this.

“—but that’s what happened,” she finished. “You two always had a special bond. It’s what brought you back together after so long, I think.”

She continued to flip through the pictures but she didn’t share any more stories. And, when you looked up at her face, you were surprised to see tears in her eyes. Unsure what to say, you waited for Jungkook to notice that you were looking at her – and he did, almost right away – and then allowed him to take control of the situation.

He didn’t know what the right thing to say was, either – asking why she was tearing up seemed impolite somehow, even if she was his mother – and, to be honest, he feared that she might have expressed her joy about your relationship if he asked her anything right now, and that would have made him feel guilty because he was, technically, faking it all.

So, placing his hand on his mother’s and, consequently, stopping her from opening the next page, he said softly, “this has been really nice, mom. But it’s getting late. We should probably get going.”

Sniffling, she looked up at the clock on the opposite wall of the room and then nodded, chuckling in a useless attempt to hide her teary eyes.

“Of course,” she said. “I was a bit much, wasn’t I?”

“Not at all,” you cut in quickly. “I’ve always loved your stories.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook echoed. “But we better get going before you reveal anything else about our childhoods and we learn that we’re long-lost X-Men with telepathic abilities.”

This got his mother to laugh finally.

“Oh, shut it,” she said with a good-natured smile. “I was just saying how you two are special.”

“Thanks for that, mom,” he said, kissing her temple. “But, still, we have to get going.”

“Thank you very much for dinner,” you said as his mother stood up to walk you to the door. “It was lovely.”

“Having you here was lovely as well,” she replied, giving you a hug – this time, without Jungkook holding your hand and pulling you back – and then, whispering in your ear so her son wouldn’t hear, she said, “thank you for taking care of him.”

And, meaning every word, you whispered back, “it’s my pleasure.”

When Jungkook stopped the car outside of your dormitory, neither of you was sure what to do next.

The story of a mysterious but powerful connection that his mother had told you still echoed in your head and it was this story that prompted you to say the first thing that popped into your mind, all so you wouldn’t have to wallow in the silence of the car and make yourself suffer, thinking about your possible destiny to be close to each other.

“Hey,” you said, “I didn’t get to ask before. Why does your whole car smell like strawberries?”

“Oh,” he seemed relieved to hear you speak, “that’s strawberries and mint,” he clarified and pulled a plastic bottle of Orbit chewing gum from the glove compartment, “it’s my favorite gum. Want one?”

“Ah. No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, popping a few pieces of gum into his mouth. Suddenly, you regretted not taking one as well just to have something to do because the sight of his jaw moving was near hypnotizing. “So. Same time next week?”

You laughed, glad that the exit out of this unusual situation turned out to be far less awkward than you’d expected -- there was no guide-book on how to end fake-dates, after all.

It must have been the aforementioned connection doing its magic again.

“Sure,” you said, opening the door of the car. “See you then.”

“See you until then,” he corrected, leaning down so he’d be able to see you as you stepped out of the car and paused, peering inside. “We have class together and I’m an exemplary student now, remember?”

“Oh, right,” you played along. “Well, I’ll catch you at our Marketing test then.”

Jungkook was putting the chewing gum back into the glove department but he did a double-take after you said that. “We have—you’re fucking with me, right?”

“No,” you resisted the urge to grin. “The professor told us last week.”

He was confused. “Where was I?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Getting drunk? Starting fights? Crashing your car into—”

“Alright, got it,” he cut you off. “Can I meet you before the test? So we can compare notes?”

You scoffed. “Lots of good that’ll do me when you didn’t attend a single class this semester.”

“I’m a charity case,” he tried. “You’ll feel very fulfilled after having helped me.”

You weren’t sure if it was your natural inability to say no to him or his sparkling eyes that got you to roll your eyes and abandon any form of protesting you may have resolved to if you’d been talking to someone else.

“Fine,” you said. “See you before the test.”

Jungkook smiled, very pleased with himself. “Thank you again.”

“For the test?”

He looked down before answering, not wanting to spent the rest of the night thanking you for everything you’d ever done for him, but also not being able to find the words that would express his gratitude properly because, no, he wasn’t thanking you just for the test. Or just for tonight.

“For being my friend,” he ended up saying. “I couldn’t have asked someone else to do this.”

Your chest seemed to expand to fit all the butterflies, and, because you didn’t know how to deal with so many fluttering wings inside of you, you ended up replying teasingly, “why not? I think Taehyung would have done wonders fake-dating you.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head. “He might have. But I’d still rather do this with you. So, thank you.”

That was twice he’d thanked you now. If he’d have done it again, your chest would have most likely exploded.

“Anytime,” you said, your gaze lingering on his as you took this moment in. “That’s what friends are for, apparently, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied with an awkward chuckle. “Turns out, I don’t have a lot of them.”

“Well,” you said, not sure if saying this would make the situation better and yet not being able to not say it, “you have me.”

The thoughts in his head all stopped running and left his heart in charge of processing your words.

“R-right...” he said weakly and you gave him one last smile and a wave, and then finally closed the door of his car before walking away to your dormitory.

Jungkook watched you go, his head empty but his chest full. His breath hitching but his eyes alive. His body numb but his blood pumping.

He had you. He had you. He had you.

keep reading | masterlist

#bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #college au #bts au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts college au

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fallingforyou123 · 4 years ago

Text

You Will Never Be A God-Une

Warnings: Slight language, implied smut, alight angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here is the official part one! Hope you'll like it, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterpost

The sheets hung loosely around her frame, the only thing keeping her from being exposed to the cold air. The stranger laid beside her in a dazed out state, chest rising ever so slowly. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the both of them, a bad habit Stevi had picked up from an ex of hers.

“Those will kill you one day.”

“No more than sleeping with strangers will.”

“Touche.”

Stevi moved to get dressed, keeping quiet to avoid another conversation. Leaving was always bad, but leaving when there was still so much to be said was the worst. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a feeling, something small sitting in her gut. It worried her, she’d never felt like this with a stranger. So safe and comfortable.

“Stay. Just till the morning, I’ll have my driver take you home.” Came the voice from the other side of the bed.

“No, definitely no. I have rules, no names, no staying. I can’t”

“What a lonely life you must live, to disconnect so much from those around you.”

Stevi looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked so much different than the man she met a couple hours ago. His perfectly gelled hair was nothing more than a brown mess atop his head, his eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze, and his suit had been replaced by a very thin sheet. He looked like someone she could see herself falling for back in university, she had to remind herself that this was a man with a lot of money, someone she’d probably dig up dirt on for an article.

She shook her head, she needed to leave.

After she finished dressing, she grabbed her bag from the front room and slipped out the door. Checking her phone she saw a couple missed calls from Brooke and an enthusiastic ‘be safe!’ text from Poppy. She quickly both, ensuring them that she was not dead in a ditch somewhere, before ordering an uber and hoping in the elevator.

***

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. She’d spent all of Saturday nursing her hangover with ice cream and old reruns of Golden Girls in bed. Then Sunday was brunch with the girls at a little cafe where she was forced to share every detail of the events that unfolded Friday night, only leaving out how weird she had felt in the strangers' company. And then all too soon she was getting ready for a week of meetings and interviews.

Walking into the office, Stevi was greeted by her boss informing her that her 11am was now Stevi’s and ‘oh, look, he’s early.’ She mentally groaned, there was not enough caffeine in the world to make this worth it. Don’t get her wrong, Stevi loved her job, but god did she hate her boss. She was flakey, and whenever anything didn’t appeal to her, she’d simply give it to Stevi with barely any notice. There were far too many nights that she had to stay late because she was given a column to write only hours before it was due.

With a heavy sigh, she walks into the conference room, hoping that this won’t last long. “Good morning, my name is Stevi, I’ll be doing the interview today since Diane couldn’t be here.”

“Rule one.”

She whips her head up towards the man, “What?”

It’s in that moment that she realizes who this is, the man from Friday night. And coincidentally, Tom Holland. She should’ve known the other night who he was, his name and face had been plastered on the bulletin board for weeks, one of their most anticipated interviews this year. Tom was not only a pretty face, but the youngest CEO to be running an international company in decades. His father had started Holland and Co. Publishing almost 30 years ago, and only a few months ago he handed it over to Tom.

“I said, rule one darling. You’ve broken it.” She’d forgotten how lovely that voice was, remembering how captivating it was to have him whispering in her ear.

“I heard what you said, Mr. Holland.”

“Call me Tom, you’ve more than earned that privilege.”

“This is my place of work, not some stupid nightclub, I keep things professional here.”

Neither of them take their eyes off the other, a silent war taking place between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re such a professional, stop looking at me like you’re wanting to fuck me.”

A small gasp leaves Stevi. She stands up to leave, gathering her things, and looks at him with venom in her eyes, “Mr. Holland, I’m afraid that this interview is over, if you would please talk to the receptionist she will reschedule you in with someone other than me.”

A small look of shock crosses Tom’s face before he too stands, reaching out to grab Stevi’s arm, “Wait, I'm sorry. Sit down, I’ll be civil.”

Reluctantly, she does. Placing her notebooks in front of her and pulling out the recorder. Before she begins she gives Tom a warning look, “One word, one single word out of line, and this is over.” To which he nods and sits back, hands folded in his lap, looking like a true business man.

***

The rest of the interview goes by smoothly, only a couple of suggestive looks being thrown her way before he bites his tongue. Stevi’s never been more relieved to finish something in her life, the tension between the two becoming almost unbearable as the interview went on. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for the article, a draft will be sent to your assistant to go over before we publish it in next week's business column.”

Stevi stands quickly, ready to put everything behind her and spend the rest of her day hiding in her office. Before she can leave, a hand is wrapped around her arm once again, and body right behind her. “Let me take you to dinner, darling. A reward for being good.”

The voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine, and for a second she debates it, “Tom, I can’t. I don’t mix business with pleasure, this is already a conflict of interest.”

“More of those damn rules. Live a little, let your guard down for once.” He looks at her with pleading eyes, something that makes him look more like his true age. That feeling sneaks its way back into again, and for a moment, while she stares into his eyes, nothing else exists. Just the two of them and a world of possibilities.

“If I say yes, this stays between us. The people we are here, and the people we are then are not the same. My job may not seem dangerous to you, but it could be very bad for me if someone gets the wrong idea.”

Tom nods, he knows all too well what she means. “Tonight at 7, meet me at The Garden on 22nd, I’ll make the reservation.”

She agrees, lets him put his number in her phone, and gives Tom one last smile before heading down the hall to her office.

She jumps when she sees someone sitting at her desk, “James, what are you doing here?”

“What, can’t check in on my favourite captain?”

“Not without a secret agenda, and last I checked, I have nothing to report to you, I’m off duty.” Stevi walks towards him, pushing his legs off of her desk.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re never off duty. Not when you’re talking to men like that.” James points out the door, to where Tom can be seen talking to the receptionist.

“That is none of your business, James.”

“I want details, everything you can find out about him, on my desk by Friday, you know what’ll happen if it’s not. Have a good day Stevi.” And with that, James walks out of the room, leaving a chill hanging in the air.

Stevi suddenly can’t breathe, the four walls surrounding her feeling like a cage. She quickly grabs her things and walks to Dianes’ office, telling her there’s a family emergency and she’ll work on the article at home. Within minutes she’s scrambling to get into her car, dialing Poppys’ number, needing someone to calm her down.

She spends the rest of the day on Poppys’ couch trying to recover from her near mental breakdown. This life was never something she wanted, she’d been dragged into it by her ex. After he failed to complete a simple task, he was killed in their apartment, and she was responsible for finishing it out. But it’s never that simple, one task turned into two, and then four, and now she was too far in to be able to leave.

All too soon, it was 6:30 and she was leaving for her date with Tom. She’d left Poppys an hour ago, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, it had just been a bad day. She drove in silence, not wanting to focus on anything but the road. She got to the restaurant right on time, quickly being seated in one of the private rooms. She’d been here once before with her parents when she first moved to the city. They’d taken her out to celebrate and they’d spent the night drinking fancy wine and eating more food than they could’ve ever imagined.

Lost in her memories, she didn’t realise how much time had passed since she’d arrived. Checking her phone she saw that it was now quarter past, and no sign of Tom. She tries texting him, thinking maybe he’d gotten off of work late. By 7:30 she starts to panic, she’s 2 glasses of wine in and still no sign of him. To no avail, she calls him, worry turning into anger when it goes straight to voicemail.

It’s almost 8 when the waiter informs her that Tom has called, he won’t be making it, but to order whatever she likes and he’ll pay for it.

And so she sits there, wine glass in hand, wishing she’d never even met Tom.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x oc #mob!tom holland x reader #tom holland and co

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redhoodieone · 4 years ago

Text

Hate You More

A new fic that I was inspired to write! There will be a Part 2 since this is going to get VERY smutty. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language. Mentions a little smut.

I’m a princess. Well, a “bit” of a princess. But that’s not exactly my fault. I’m an only child. My mom and dad always wanted one kid and once they had me they were happy...until they divorced when I was eight-years-old and my dad left somewhere far away. Ever since then, it was always just me and mom, which was never a bad thing.

We were close and got along just fine. Every weekend was our Nicholas Sparks movie marathons on the couch, eating a shit ton of strawberry ice cream straight from the carton, and painting each other’s nails and having her braid my hair and tell me stories of when I was little.

Everything was perfect with just me and my mom...until she married him.

Bruce Wayne.

I never thought my mom would ever want to remarry but Bruce somehow stole her heart and made her fall in love with him.

I didn’t want to blame her for being so stupid for marrying him. I mean, Bruce did treat my mom right. I just hated him so much for convincing my mom to move us into his mansion.

So far away from my first home.

But I know he really loves her, despite being known as a billionaire playboy, womanizing, man whore. After three years into their marriage, I noticed he really cared about me and treated me like his daughter; certainly overprotective and reminding me if I ever needed anything to always go to him.

He even helped me get into GCU. With his help, I’m now into my second year. He’s really proud that I’m a responsible, twenty-one year old college student, and that makes me feel good.

But it hasn’t always been perfect with Bruce. Not only did I get a stepdad, but I got THREE asshole stepbrothers: Dick, Jason, and Tim. They’re the boys Bruce adopted.

Dick wasn’t exactly an asshole. He’s twenty-five years old and he’s always in and out of the mansion. He’s a party animal and I rarely see him unless he’s home for Sunday dinners and for Alfred to do his laundry.

Tim is tolerable. He’s always kind to me, but he’s also a shy and awkward fourteen-year-old. He’s seriously a nerd and he’s becoming an addict to coffee and always being on his computer. But he doesn’t bother me at all.

Not like Jason Fucking Todd.

He’s twenty-one years old and is a complete lazy ass who mooches on everyone.

I honestly hated him the second I met Jason. The second my mom and I moved into the mansion, I had set down backpack on the kitchen counter so I could remove my sweater and throw away the empty bag of fried fast food I had for lunch. The moment I turned around, Jason had jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter and had the nerve to pick up my backpack and throw it to the floor.

“Oops! Your shit was in my spot.”

I had my fucking cell phone, laptop, and picture frames of my family in there.

And that’s how it all started. Jason made it very clear he hates me and I refuse to back down and be nice to him. I mean, the fucking asshole has zero respect for me anyways. All he does is drink, eat all the food, and bring bar sluts home to fuck loudly in his bedroom which is right NEXT DOOR TO MINE!!!

All night and early in the mornings. All I can hear is Jason’s headboard slamming repeatedly against the wall and his bimbos screaming, “Oh God! Right there, Jay! Oh my God, HARDER!”

Seeing him afterwards is worse though. I could be walking to the bathroom or the kitchen and he’d just happen to come by to use the bathroom too, or get a drink of water...only using a sheet that’s wrapped around his waist!

He’d fucking smirk at me and I would try so hard to not look down at his big bulge and thick hard on.

Jason is my stepbrother...only my stepbrother, I constantly remind myself.

But Jason is also an asshole. He may look sexy and taste delicious but his one unattractive flaw is his behavior.

And I’m not one to sit back and let assholes walk all over me. I do get back at Jason quite a bit; enough to piss him off.

Today is one of the days I decide to have a big appetite. After my shower, I run downstairs only wearing my comfy pajama short shorts and a black tank top. I remember Dick is at his own apartment and Alfred is away in London on “holiday” as he calls it. Entering the kitchen, I see Mom making breakfast for us: pancakes, bacon, and sausage.

Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee and reading on his cellphone. Tim is drinking a cup of coffee (maybe 5th refill?) and eating pancakes and some sausage.

“Good morning,” I say to all of them.

“Good morning sweetie,” Mom replies with such a warm motherly smile.

Bruce grins at me. “Good morning, Y/N.”

All Tim does is nod his head to me and continues to eat.

“I’m starving,” I say and already fill my plate with two pancakes and some bacon and sausage as well.

I take a seat next to Tim and dig in. Ace, Bruce’s dog moves closer to my feet and looks up at me for some food. Fucking puppy dog eyes...I sneak a few pieces of bacon to him.

Mom eventually sits down with hers and Bruce’s plate. He smiles lovingly at her and the two kiss.

It’s a calming morning. Everyone’s eating and just enjoying the silence...until the asshole comes into the kitchen.

Jason literally has no shame. He comes in only wearing his black boxers and has very cute bed head. Stop it, Y/N. He’s completely shirtless. Not even acknowledging he’s in the kitchen, Jason quickly makes a plate for himself which he only puts three pancakes and like two handful sizes of bacon.

I silently growl and tighten my hand around my fork as I’m stuck looking at his bare, muscular upper body. His arms look strong. He’s just...all muscle. All man.

But then I remember he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, Jason quickly glances at me and smirks. He actually fucking flexes his muscles for me.

I immediately look down because I just know my cheeks are red like tomatoes. God, does he have to be so attractive???

“Good morning, princess,” Jason taunts me, after greeting everyone else, obviously. He sits directly in front of me with that shit eating grin. “Did you sleep well last night?”

I glare at him. Fuck him. “Yeah, I did. You know very well that I can’t sleep peacefully unless you bring a whore home and fuck her until she’s blue in the face, Jason. I mean, when it’s so quiet at night, I just can’t fall asleep! It’s impossible! It’s like I HAVE to hear you fuck just to go to sleep!” I say sarcastically.

“So, you do listen to me when I fuck my girls, huh? Is your sex life nonexistent that you have to get yourself off on others who actually get off?” Jason jokes and shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth. “That’s pretty pathetic, even for you, Y/N. At least Tiny Tim here watches internet porn. Maybe you should start getting yourself off with that instead of listening to me fuck.”

“Jason...” Bruce warns. “Don’t even start this morning.”

“Start what? I’m not even doing anything,” Jason says. He raises an eyebrow at me and keeps that fucking smirk on his face.

“Leave Y/N alone, Jason,” Tim butts in.

“Quiet Timbers. Let the princess tell me off. I love it when she gets all red and pissed off.”

My mom glances at me with a serious look, too. Why is she giving me that look when I didn’t even do anything?!

“Aw, there’s sausage?! I didn’t know there was sausage up there!” Jason whines. His eyes dart from my plate over to my mom and Bruce.

“I actually served the last few pieces to Bruce. I’m sorry, Jason,” my mom apologizes. She frowns and looks down at hers and Bruce’s empty plates.

“That’s all right. I see there’s still five uneaten sausages on Y/N’s plate,” Jason says and smirks at me. He looks down at my plate and back up at me. “You’re not going to eat them, are you princess? Because if not, I want them.”

He’s fucking teasing me. Jason is mocking me with those green eyes and that fucking smile that wets every girl’s panties. It’s like he actually believes he’s going to get away with this. He really thinks he’s going to get what he wants. Jason slowly reaches a hand towards my plate to get my sausages.

I want to burst his cocky bubble in front of everyone.

“Actually...I’m going to give them to the dog. And by dog, I mean Ace,” I say, quickly grabbing all the sausages in my hand and feed them to Ace under the table. “You see, I don’t feed dirty dogs like you. Ace is a clean, loyal, and sweet dog. You on the other hand are a dirty, disgusting, slut who fucks anything with a hole.”

My sudden outburst startles everyone at the table. I see everyone’s wide eyes and open mouths hanging in shock at me.

Jason chuckles lowly. His eyes are full of anger and hatred for me. “What did you just say to me?” he asks.

“You heard me,” I reply with the same tone. “Unless you lost your hearing due to all the screaming from the banshee skank you brought home last night from only God knows where.”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like a jealous bitch. For someone who has claimed to hate me and not want anything to do with me on multiple occasions, you seem to be really obsessed about my sex life,”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,”

“Y/N stop,” my mom says.

“You think I’m flattering myself?! I’m not the one who always checks myself out! You know, I always see you staring at me right?! If anything, you’re flattered by me!” Jason snaps.

“ENOUGH!!!” Bruce shouts.

We’re all silent but Jason and I continue to stare each other down.

“I’ve had enough of the two of you fighting! It’s old and it’s seriously ridiculous. It needs to end now. Your mother and I are going to leave for Spain tonight, and I don’t want to hear anything bad about the two of you while we’re gone. Now, apologize to each other,” Bruce says.

“Apologize to the princess? For what?! She’s a fucking bitch, who’s always bitching, and she’s basically the biggest bitch who ever bitched!” Jason yells. “She should apologize to me!”

“If I’m a fucking bitch then that makes you the biggest asshole here! You’re literally the most disgusting, disrespectful, lazy ass guy I have ever met! You have NO respect for anyone who lives here! Why should I fucking apologize to you?! All you do is drink, eat all the food, and bring random whores to our house and force us all to listen to you have sex!” I yell back.

“Our house? You think this is your house, too? I hate to burst your “bitching bubble” sweetheart, but this isn’t your house! You’re extra baggage that had to be dragged here! Your mom was wanted here; not you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not even family!” Jason yells louder than before.

My bottom lip trembles uncontrollably. I feel tears running down my cheeks. I need to get out of here before I completely break down in front of Jason.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jason!” I choke out.

I quickly jump out of my seat and run up the stairs. After I slam my bedroom door, I throw myself down onto my bed and cry. I can even hear Bruce screaming his head off and tearing Jason a new one.

——————————————————————————

I wake up to an empty stomach. Rolling over onto my back, I rub my eyes and yawn. It’s dark in my bedroom; indicating it’s already nighttime. I reach for my cellphone on my nightstand and see it’s already eight o’clock.

I must have been really exhausted to have slept the day away. Those days usually happen after I cry a lot and feel like shit.

Mom and Bruce are probably already gone. Their Spain trip is only for the weekend. I’m seriously glad about that since I don’t know how I’m going to get through the weekend with Jason still around.

Maybe if I’m lucky he’s already at the bar and picking up skanks. That means I have time to eat and a few hours of silence for myself.

I decide to go downstairs and I instantly notice all the lights are off except for the kitchen light. Slowly stepping into the kitchen, I see it’s empty and that there’s a big box of pizza and two drinks; a bottle of beer and a glass of orange juice with the bottle of Vodka next to it.

Raising an eyebrow in question, I look around to see who did this. Noticing the back sliding door is open, I walk over slowly to peek out.

Jason.

On the phone and sitting at the patio table.

He doesn’t see me but I can hear him clearly.

“Do you think she’ll really like it?”

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #batman

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