#i just!! do worry i write her too soft sometimes bc she's supposed to be hard to truly befriend

[tvrningout-a]

since i rambled about it in the tags of a post earlier tonight, i also!! wanna write the moments when it's frustrating to know chiyo, to be her friend, bc she doesn't make it easy at first/has moments when she returns to old habits. she'll stubbornly keep things to herself and say she's fine, and that gets annoying when someone is trying so hard to be there for her. what do they need to do before she trusts them?? have they really not done enough?? does she even see them as her friend?? if she does, she has to stop creating distance between them -- she has to stop being so damn scared. they're not going to hurt her.

[siolixz]

~ Veils of Crimson ~

Chapter 2

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

<chapter1> <chapter3> <chapter4> <chapter 5: part 1>

Reader is the daughter of Carmine Falcone and upon her late father's demise, she is obligated to return home after 5 years to face her past. I edited some things, like Sofia being in Arkham only 5 years instead of 10. Hopefully y'all like it, again no smut, remember, good things come to those who wait (not for too long bcs im obsessed with writing about this man ughbhghgy)

Again, I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (not in this chapter sorry AGAIN), general horniness.

“I wanted to tell you that tomorrow night I will be unavailable from 4 PM to 7 PM; your sister has requested me.”

Sofia was a very kind person; that much you knew. Your sister rarely did anything to hurt you or anyone else for that matter. So why on earth would she take Oz away for a few hours? Was she planning on telling him about your feelings? She wouldn’t. Maybe your smartass remarks finally caught up to her, maybe she wanted to teach you a lesson.

No, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Oz is a trustworthy guy, someone your dad depends on to take care of one of his most special treasures: you.

“Why?” you asked. You didn’t mean to make it sound so sharp; you weren’t mad, really, just curious.

“I’m sorry, but she said I couldn’t tell anyone.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead but glanced at you in the rearview mirror; his gaze was soft.

“Okay, if that’s what she said, it seems I’ll have to ask her.” You hated things not going your way, especially if Oz was hiding things from you. You two were supposed to be close, even if you were acting like a spoiled brat right now. If any other member of the staff had acted like this with you- it would have been a different story.

The next day, from morning until late evening, you tried to shake the uneasy feeling that your sister was gone to do something she was not supposed to. Either way, it was something very important. When you asked her, she quickly said it was none of your business and that you shouldn’t worry; she would get your driver back as soon as possible.

Something was definitely up. She took Oz with her when she had two other drivers. Maybe it was because Oz was intimidating; that huge scar on his face couldn’t have appeared there because he was a nice guy, and he wasn’t going to hesitate if push came to shove.

Tomorrow was your dad’s birthday party, and you had the most beautiful dress prepared: a gorgeous, short, white dress paired with the most stunning custom-made Louboutin heels, also white—a gift from your dad on your 18th birthday.

You knew tomorrow was going to be full of remarks like, “Oh my God, I haven’t seen you in SUCH a long time!” “I cradled you when you were just a widdle baby!” “How beautiful you have become!” Being the center of attention wasn’t so bad now; I mean, you were the baby of the family, and everyone doted on you.

The Falcone mansion was a very, very big house, full of rooms and bathrooms, and it was sometimes hard to figure out who came and went. As you rested on your family sofa in the living room, waiting to be welcomed in by your father in his office, you heard those familiar footsteps you knew so well. 

It was hard not to know who he was; that leg of his became harder to move late in the evening. You discovered this by literally dragging him with you into every shop that piqued your curiosity. From early afternoon until late evening, you were on the “prowl,” as your sister liked to say at family dinners—from meeting the daughter of X and Y in I-don’t-know-what shop to trying on a multitude of dresses, shoes, and accessories. He never told you, but you were sure it hurt him as well; still, Oz never showed any signs of discomfort or pain. He was always ready with a smile or a funny remark.

When you saw him, he had his jacket removed, and you noticed the way his belly pushed against his dress shirt. A few buttons were undone at the upper part of his torso, giving you a full look at the hair there. His tie was gone as well. You knew his shift was done; clearly, Sofia had dismissed him.

You immediately jumped off the sofa and went to say hi to him. He was clearly surprised to see you, especially in your pajamas. You also forgot about the attitude you were supposed to have. What was all that about anyway?

“Hi Oz, what are you doing here?”

He said he wanted to talk to your dad. What was up with all this secrecy? Did they think you were too stupid or naive to have a say or an opinion? When you asked what it was about, he said it was just some business stuff, nothing too important. You two could talk outside if you wanted; he wasn’t allowed inside the house after all.

“Okay, whatever.” It was hard not to get annoyed at both of them. You hadn’t even seen or talked to your sister. Did she even come home?

He must have been in there for about thirty minutes, but finally, he came out. Outside, he lit a cigarette and asked if you were cold, he could get you his jacket-forever the gentleman. You said no, the last thing you wanted to do was push him like that. You asked again about your sister and he didn’t want to tell you, again, saying it wasn’t right to your sister. Ok, now you really had to find out and with your heart beating a thousand beats per minute, you got even closer to him. The smell of his cologne, the one he always wore, left a trail wherever he went—a sort of flamboyance he allowed himself- the only one he was allowed in the chains of his current position. The smell of the cigarette mixed with it wasn’t the most pleasant, but whatever; it smelled like him.

“Please, Oz, I just want to know. Everyone always keeps me in the dark. You’re my friend—well, I consider you my friend—just tell me. Don’t be like the rest of them because you aren’t.” You looked at him with the most pained expression you could muster at that hour, your voice breaking-low enough to be a whisper

 “Doll, I—listen—” he started.

“Please, Oz, you're my driver, and you’re supposed to be by my side. I was kind to you; I always told you everything. I made sure my dad gave you all those bonuses for walking around with me.” You paused. “Please?” He looked at you like you were in hospice before saying:

“Okay, Jesus, um, your sister went to a journalist, that lady who came after her when you were off sulking in the car. She met up with her today—”

“What?” you interjected.

He inhaled deeply before continuing, “Something about your dad and some hookers at the club. Apparently, they died or something. Your sister was interested in whatever that woman had to say, nothing more.”

“Oh—”

“Oh, exactly. Now don’t go telling your brother or something—”

“Dad has hookers at the club?”

He looked at you, dumbfounded. “Y-yeah, I guess. Anyway, it is nothing you should concern yourself with, ya know?” You didn’t respond, lost in thought. How could she have been so stupid?

“Hey, hey—” he lowered his head to catch your big eyes, so full of things to say, a million thoughts running behind them. “Look at me. It’s going to be okay. Where do you want to go tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” you said.

“C’mon, you gotta think about something. Until your dad’s birthday in the evening, we gotta go somewhere. There’s this new restaurant that opened up; I heard only good things about it—” How could she have been so careless? “Something with C—ugh, I can’t remember right now.”

“Okay, tomorrow we go. You have a nice night, Oz,” you said. “Take care of yourself.”

“Alright, you too. Sleep tight,” he said, a bit surprised at your quick dismissal of him. You knew that, but you had to think.

This was huge, like actually huge. If your dad found ou—Why was Oz visiting your dad?

The birthday party was the same as every year: all the family got together to have material for gossip later on in the day and hate each other just as much as they did when they were away. You never went with Oz to that restaurant because, frankly speaking, you were scared shitless. Your dad loved you and your siblings you knew that, in his own way, and he would never endanger any of you.

When your dad called Sofia into his office and she got all excited to give him his birthday present, you never would have thought in a million years that the night would end with her being picked up by the police. Alberto called you in a frenzy that night, his voice shaking with anger. You knew—your dad let this happen. This arrest was made on his grounds, on his territory—why? How?

When you visited your sweet sister, everyone still believed she was going to go home. This was just Dad’s way of scaring her, maybe to teach her a lesson—the most important one he had been repeating all your lives: DO NOT SPEAK TO THE PRESS.

Her lawyer was very, very expensive, and yet not even she could save her. You thought she was going to jail. No, she was going to Arkham for six months until she would be judged. Based on the false accusations that she hanged those sex workers at your dad’s club. What? Now that was actual insanity. She started yelling that Dad set her up, that he killed all those women—he killed their mom too. This was a lot to process. Your heart was beating out of your chest seeing the person who you thought was the most calm and collected person freak out, and rightfully so, because police officers took her away in like five minutes.

It all happened too fast, way too fast for this to be okay.

What sort of judge allows this to happen?

You knew it was his fault. He did this. Upon arriving back home, you were a wreck. How could you look your dad in the eye again?

One thing you knew for sure: you never wanted to see Oz again.

And your wish came true! Because your darling sweet daddy sent you far, far away, abroad, because he didn’t want to deal with you either, you presumed. He sent you to France, where a large part of your mom’s family lived.

You never learned French, but now was apparently the time. Your aunt and uncle lived quite well over there and even if they didn’t really keep in touch with you over the years, they accepted you with open arms. They had a large villa in the south, a pool outside, the beach was one hour away, two dogs that would run around and make your days better.

 But how could your days be good when your sister was in a looney bin, thrown in there like a rag, used and discarded? Your days were spent calling Alberto, asking about Sofia. You made sure he told her you loved her, that you asked about her, and that you two were going to get her out of there. Every year, Al told you she started losing herself more and more each day.

Oz, on the other hand, apparently thought he was a big man now; he ran the Iceberg Lounge, a funny name association, given that he hated being called “Penguin.” You knew he asked about you too, but Alberto said he told him to fuck off every time.

You weren’t allowed to go back home, at least that’s what you understood from your dad. He said you and your sister both lost yourselves a bit, maybe the money and the fame got to your head and that it was best you stayed there; the weather would do you wonders.

On the bright side, it had been five long years, and Alberto said he was 100% sure he was going to get Sofia out of that shithole, finally.

And when you thought that things were finally looking up for you, everything was going to be okay after such a long time of everything being shit—your dad died.

Your ears started ringing, like a train was passing in your head, when Alberto yelled out that he was gone over the phone. Your knees felt weak, like someone had transformed them into play-doh. I need to get home now.

Your dad wasn’t even cold in the grave when Alberto went AWOL—gone, no word from him since yesterday evening. Both you and Sofia were worried. Where was he?

You knew Oz was called to the house that day after your brother stopped responding to your texts. You could hear that loud voice of his, muffled but still loud enough to hear everything they said.

You hadn’t been here for quite some time—five years. Still, nothing changed. Sofia’s uncle Johnny and Milos filled your brother’s spot while he was gone; however, when he comes back-he’s going to be the boss, that's for sure.

Women weren’t allowed inside when the men were planning and talking business, but you weren’t inside. Plus, it wasn’t your fault Oz had a voice loud enough to hear from down the hall. Oz. Oz’s voice. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he spoke. This stupid attraction—you hoped in the years that passed it would go away, but apparently, it had not. In fact, it seemed to have grown alongside you. Maybe now he could have more courage; maybe this newly acquired upgrade made him the man you only saw glimpses of. You were a grown woman; surely now he had no reservations about you. Surely.

You didn't even hear your sister walk by with her bodyguards near your spot, attached to the door, too busy in your daydream.

“Am I interrupting you?” she asked, making you jump and curse under your breath. Her manner of speaking changed; so did her walk, her style, and her hair. But you knew the love you guys had for one another hadn’t changed.

“Fuck, Sofia, why are you sneaking up on me like that?” you whispered.

“Can you please move? I want to go inside,” she said, smiling, but the smile never reached her eyes. You moved, and the doors were opened.

“—in fact, it’s big. It has the potential to revolutionize the drug business,” you heard from inside. Huh? Is he referring to Al's plan?How does he know what Alberto wanted to do? You didn’t even know the whole story—of course you didn’t.

You decided to leave. You didn’t want Oz to see you, and you didn’t want to see him either. What was wrong with you?

On your way out, passing the exit, you saw this gorgeous purple car. Now there was only ONE man you knew who could possess something as flashy and in-your-face as a purple fucking car.

It wasn’t Milos, by the way. Then you heard his footsteps, and they were coming-fast, like really fucking fast.

Shit, okay, I’m leaving—go up the stairs now. Before you could hide yourself in one of the upper rooms, you heard Sofia yell out your name.

“Oz, you remember my little sister, right? She had such a fondness for you and you of her, from what I remember. You two haven’t seen each other for such a long time.” Okay, you couldn’t hide, so just put on a brave face and go say hi. “Hi, Oz, you ruined my life, but don’t worry, I would still ride you.” You wished you were back in Europe.

Turning the corner was the easy part; looking at him was the hard part. He looked different, yes—but still the same. His clothing had definitely changed; his black suit was now replaced with a purple one, like the car. Jesus. While you descended the staircase in your short flowery dress, it felt like your date was waiting for you downstairs to take you to prom. Those seven seconds you spent getting down the staircase felt like seven hours. Please, ground, swallow me whole now.

Once you got down and saw him again for the first time in five years, up close, he looked somehow more handsome. His scar was more pronounced, yes, but it added to his allure. Oh God, he’s smiling. Not only did he have a purple car and a purple suit, but this man had golden teeth as well. On a lighter note, he smelled like cologne, cigarettes, and aftershave—just like you remembered him smelling. Oh, that brings you back.

“Hi, Oz,” you said, smiling ear to ear.

He looked you up and down, still smiling. “Wow, you’re just as gorgeous as I remember.”

[girlboypersonthingy]

ONE MORE BC THE LAST ONE WAS SO CUTE- like jinx and vi’s gf overworks herself and they nag her while she’s sick but still ended up babying here and being soft 🥺🙏

Whaaaat? Only one more? Plz request as much as you want! It’ll take me a bit to write it but I’m obsessed with all the requests I’ve been getting omfggggg 🥹 dude also I’m SOOOOO sorry this took me forever to get to, I’m so busy…but thanks for the ask! This was so cute to write AH ENJOY~

JINX 🦋

You were startled from your seated and slumped over position by the door slamming open. As you turn in your seat, you’re greeted by an angry faced Jinx. “What the hell are you doing, (Y/N)?” She watches as you lift the goggles off your face and onto your head, her hands on her hips and a frown on her lips. There’s a sheepish smile on your bright red face as she begins to stomp her way over to you. “I’m working on that-“ She’s quick to interrupt you. “No, actually! You’re sick and you’re supposed to be in bed right now.” “I’m not sick anymore.”

With a frustrated sigh, Jinx presses her hand against your forehead and glares at you soon after. “You’re bright red and you’re burning hot.” You take the chance to distract her and change the subject. “Ooh, so you think I’m hot, huh?” This causes her to turn bright red as well, a small smirk now replacing her frown. “Psshh, yeah you’re like super hot- WAIT! Don’t change the subject! Get your butt in your room and in bed right now or I’ll have to drag you there kicking and screaming.” Her frown is back but she’s still blushing at the flirting that just took place between you.

Reluctantly, you stand and begin trudging towards your room with Jinx following right behind you. “Babe, really, I’m fine. I’m feeling so much-“ “Nonononono, shush. Just keep walking.” She gently pushes your back with just one finger, skipping behind you now. She’s so cute when she’s all concerned about you like this, it always makes your heart swell. Once in your room, Jinx slams the door behind you guys and suddenly her hands are all in your clothes.

“Whoa whoa! I know you think I’m super hot but Jesus…” This pulls a small giggle from her as she shakes her head at you. “I’m getting you in some comfy clothes, you perv!” Now you’re laughing too. She helps you change and you can’t help but notice how soft and slow and patient she is being with you right now, this is so unlike the Jinx you know. She’s slow as she pulls your top off and she is careful as she helps you remove your shoes. Her hands move with a graceful purpose as she pulls the thin shirt over your head. “I’m just sick, not injured…I can dress myself, Jinx.” Now she’s giving you a playful glare. “I thought you said you weren’t sick anymore.” You simply roll your eyes in response before she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bed.

You quickly crawl under the covers and take a deep breath in, exhaling loudly as you close your eyes. It surprises you a bit to feel the covers lifted up and as you turn to look behind you, Jinx is also half dressed now and climbing in next to you. You scoot away from her a bit. “Noooo, I’m gonna get you sick.” “So?” “And don’t you have work to do?” “No.” You decide it’s probably best to stop arguing because she’s already spooning you now, her chest pressed against your back, her breath drifting across the nape of your neck, your butt up against her thighs.

After a minute of her holding you tightly like this, she eventually breaks the silence. “Thanks.” You’re confused now. “For what?” It takes her a second to respond. “For finally resting. You worry me sometimes.” And now you’re not sure what to say next. You never want to worry her. Geez, maybe you really should start taking better care of yourself.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry-“ She shushes you and scoots herself even closer to you. “Shut up and just take a nap with me. Gosh, you talk too much.” You’re acting as if you’re offended but also you can’t hold back your laugh. “You’re one to talk.” “I said shut up!” You’re still laughing, even harder now but you decide you should probably listen to her before she tries to hug you any tighter. You’re kind of having trouble breathing right now but there’s no where else you’d rather be than right here.

VI 💘

“Excuse me.” You look up from the floor at your pink haired partner, noticing the angry look on her face. “Yes?” You respond plainly as you try to catch your breath and watch as she crosses her arms. “Why are you not in bed?” “I’m training. You’re the one who said I need to train more and learn to protect myself better.” Vi furrows her brows at you and shakes her head. “Yeah but not when you’re sick.” As you stand to meet her gaze, she just watches you with an annoyed expression. “But I’m feeling better. Really, I’m fine.” You weren’t really feeling better but you wouldn’t admit that to her. You didn’t need to, she could tell you were lying.

She doesn’t even bother to argue with you and instead she grabs your wrist and begins dragging you to your room. “Vi, please. I’m not a child, I don’t-“ “Well you’re acting like one.” You gasp in surprise at her harsh words. “I am not! I’m fine, I swear!” She’s silent now as she pushed the door to your room open, still firmly grasping your wrist. You’re kind of frustrated with her but you’re also very flattered that she’s so concerned about you.

“Vi-“ “Shush.” You finally obey, staying quiet now as she pulls some more comfy clothes out of your closet and tosses them on the bed. Without even being asked, you begin changing right in front of Vi and you can’t help but notice her staring. “Like what you see?” You don’t even need to look at her, but you taunt her with a cheeky smile as she crosses her arms again. She’s trying not to smile but she’s failing miserably. “Shut. Up. I’m just making sure you don’t run off when my back is turned. I don’t trust you.” You stop what you’re doing and look over at her with wide eyes and a pout. “Wow! You don’t trust me?” She chuckles softly and finally looks away from you. “Not right now, I don’t. Just hurry up and get in bed. Don’t make me come pick you up.”

That’s something Vi always uses as a threat- if you don’t do what she wants you to do, she’ll just come pick you up and carry you along as you complain the whole time. You secretly love it…and so does she.

Once you’re changed, instead of getting straight into bed, you walk over to Vi and offer her a small smile. “Get out of here. I know you’ve got shit to do. I promise I’ll stay here and rest, okay?” She returns the sweet smile as she gentle rests her bandaged hands on your shoulders. “The only shit I’ve got to do right now is take care of you.” Now you’re smiling even bigger, your cheeks slowly turning red. “You’re gonna stay with me? What if I get you sick too?” Vi pretty much ignores you as she sits on the edge of the bed and begins pulling her boots off. You watch her as she stands and yanks her pants off before crawling up into your sheets.

“You coming?” She asks as she shimmies under the blanket and then holds it open for you to join her. Your face feels hot and tingly, like you might pass out and you’re not sure if it’s because you really aren’t feeling good or if it’s because Vi is in her underwear in your bed and she actually wants to cuddle you right now. Either way, you try to ignore the feeling as you fumble your way in next to her. She laughs softly at your flustered state as she wraps her arms around you and pulls your head to lay on her chest. Naturally, as you lay on your stomach, one arm falls over her waist.

“Damn, you’re burning up.” She tosses the blanket off of you two and sighs. “You need to take better care of yourself, (Y/N). You’re gonna work yourself to the grave pretty soon if you don’t take a break every now and then. You’re pushing it too hard.” You’re surprised to hear this from her, she often pushes herself too hard and never takes a day off. As if she could read your mind right now, she continues with “I know I push myself too hard. But…Do as I say, not as I do.” This makes you laugh softly against her and you’re closing your eyes now. “I just…I worry about you. You deserve to rest.”

You’re pretty much speechless now, this is the most calm and gentle she’s ever been with you and you both wish this moment could last forever. After a minute or so, you clear your throat because speaking. “Sorry…” Vi hugs you a little firmer before kissing the top of your head. She doesn’t respond to your apology, instead she sighs again, more of a content and relieved sigh this time. “And thanks…” Your voice is just above a whisper now. Vi doesn’t respond and as you tilt your head to look up at her, you notice her eyes are closed too but she’s smiling so hard right now.

[jihyocentric]

could you write a mihyo where ceo Jihyo is stressed out and mina gets her to take a break by making love to her. <3

silly little game(r) developer jihyo and her mommy gf mina bc why not

-

jihyo never really cared about mina's business. her girlfriend was already a ceo when they met, and she was used to mina being busy and sometimes getting overworked, as it was a great responsibility to own a whole brand. mina always kept her work stuff to herself, and jihyo was fine with that — as long as mina was alright.

however, lately mina has been leaving early and getting home late, sleeping less, ignoring her body's needs when she skips meals because she's too busy with work that she can't stop to even eat, and it has been making jihyo worried. the bags under mina's eyes looked profound, and jihyo knew that mina has been having trouble to relax and sleep in the few hours that she had to do so.

mina wasn't supposed to be home early, but she was dragged back home by the couple of friends she worked with. nayeon said mina wasn't allowed to go back to the company until she has gotten enough rest, and jihyo promised she'd hide the keys, so that mina couldn't escape. it was hard and it took a while, but after taking a pill and cuddling jihyo, mina fell asleep.

she was asleep for not longer than three or so hours, and that's when jihyo heard mina's voice. she paused the game she was test playing, sighing when she could clearly hear mina talking to what jihyo guessed was someone from work. jihyo got up and left her home office, following mina's voice. mina was in the living room, walking from a place to another while she gave the person the biggest lecture about her not accepting any more failures and how she didn't hire unqualified people, so they should try harder.

"we've been working on that building for a year, how is it that we can't open to the public yet?" mina sounded upset, and by the way she had a hand touching her head, jihyo knew she was truly stressed. mina finally notices jihyo is in the room, and she sighs. "just fix it. call nayeon and fix it with her. i'm busy right now."

jihyo waits until mina turns off the call, watching as mina throws her phone carelessly on the couch.

"you should be sleeping." jihyo says, walking towards mina. "what happened?"

"nothing that you should worry about, baby." mina answers, offering jihyo a faint smile. "nayeon will deal with that problem for me, i'm sure she will."

jihyo hums, arms wrapping around mina's waist. "is that the reason why you've been so stressed this week?"

"mostly. yes." mina tells her, placing a kiss on jihyo's cheek. it has been a while since she'd had time to give her girlfriend some love. jihyo might be calm but she's clingy, and mina was sure jihyo missed her throughout the week.

jihyo's nose brushes against mina's neck right before she softly pats the ceo's waist and pulls away. "then we should go back to bed."

"i'm not sleepy anymore." mina sighs. "besides, weren't you working on something? i saw you at the office."

"that can wait." jihyo assures, holding mina's cold hand, intertwining their fingers together. the subtle contrast between the warm temperature of her palm and the coldness of mina's made her shiver, and jihyo was fond of the feeling. "let me take care of you."

mina doesn't object. she lets jihyo take the lead and lies down with her, enjoying the softness of jihyo's lips on hers that gave her the comfort she needed. at first it was intriguing to her, how she allowed jihyo into her life, someone whom she thought was different than her in every aspect, but it's moments like those that makes her realize that jihyo was perfect for her.

the way jihyo brings her warmth, kissing every inch of her skin, undressing her with utmost care, is all she needs when she's having a rough time. mina might come off as cold and perhaps she really is, but never to jihyo, never to the one with flushed cheeks as she kisses down her stomach, ready to move further down and show mina her own means to relax.

"is this okay?" jihyo asks, placing a soft kiss over mina's thigh. even after all this time that they've been together, she was still considerate of mina's wishes, always asking for permission.

mina nods. "of course. go on, baby."

jihyo is gentle, utterly sweet in everything she does, making mina gasp when she feels the tenderness of jihyo's mouth, touching her intimately like nobody else could. jihyo closed her eyes as mina caressed her scalp, diving between her girlfriend's silky legs, effectively bringing mina closer to a much needed edge.

mina's thighs tighten around her head, and even then jihyo can hear her whimpers. jihyo's hands move up, fingers pinching mina's nipples, making the ceo writhe under her. jihyo moaned as her tongue circled her girlfriend's clit, relishing in how sweet mina tasted, her breathing getting thicker as it hit mina's skin but it didn't bother her.

mina's body tensed at some point, and then jihyo couldn't move. mina's thighs locked her in place as she came, gushing all over jihyo's tongue, moaning softly as jihyo slowed down gradually, letting her enjoy her climax without getting overstimulated. mina smiles when jihyo pulls away, satisfied, then cleans jihyo's glistening chin with her thumb. she brings it to her mouth and has a taste of herself, a lewd sight that contrasted with the sweet moment and made jihyo blush.

"feeling relaxed enough to sleep?" jihyo asks, laying on top of mina.

"not yet." mina replies, her hands slipping inside jihyo's sweater. "let me pay back."

jihyo whines against her neck. "no, you need to sleep. you still look tired."

"i will after i take care of you." mina promises.

jihyo is ready to firmly disagree. "but mina-"

"shh. be a good girl and let me take care of you too."

"are you sure?" jihyo pulls away, sitting on mina's lap. her tummy quivered at the feeling of mina's cold hands wandering across the warm skin of her body, one of them caressing her stomach before slipping inside jihyo's panties. "mina..."

mina's smile got wider. "that's right, darling. say my name."

[catch-the-wind]

when reader is sick hc's

finally posting writing here so true

n e ways okay so i’m brainrotting about the genshin charas taking care of their s/o’s when they’re sick 🥺 and now i'm feeling sick, sigh

ohm and sulien ambros belong to @teyvattherapist! they're such good chara's, i know i'm writing them here but i deffo recommend reading up on them

okay here u go, have some hc's that are kinda sorta long and by that i mean 2.5k- i haven't proofread this bc it's 4am and im going to BED but if i write for any other chara's i'll post a second part <3 mwah

tags: gn!reader, diluc x reader, kaeya x reader, jean x reader, lisa x reader, albedo x reader, dainsleif x reader, tartaglia x reader, ohm ambros x reader, sulien ambros x reader, soft bean hours

diluc

is not working or traveling when his partner is sick

absolutely makes them soup and hot tea and drinks

he’s trying to make them food but he’s not the best cook so he’s asking adelinde for help

absolutely asks jean, barbara, and ohm for help while his partner is sleeping but he’s so awkward LMAO

was absolutely frantic the first day he found out his partner was sick tho, he made them come over to the winery so they could sleep there and he can take care of them <3

absolutely lied about what room was his so they slept in his bed

“hmm this guest room is so furnished diluc are all your rooms like this” and no, no they are not, this room is his, bestie

diluc slept on a sofa in his bedroom and did work on the table that was supposed to be for flowers. kinda stressed over abyss order locations but was more worried ab his partner being okay so he was distracted

he just put the flowers on his nightstand for his partner to see when they woke up <3

gives his partner forehead kisses because they won’t let him kiss them on the lips and he gives them the gentlest cheek kisses while they sleep

also gives his partner his clothes to wear <3

cuddles them and reads to them when they’re awake and TEMPLE KISSES OH MY GOD

kaeya comes over because he’s worried his brother and his brother’s s/o haven’t been seen in a little while

n e way, diluc gets sick after his partner gets better and they nursed each other back to health

kaeya

like diluc, he took off work so he could take care of his s/o i,mediately after he found out they were sick

wouldn’t force them to stay at his place tho, he’d probably let them recover in their own place

but he might make them go to the kof hq or the cathedral just so they can be taken care of by a proper healer

he absolutely soothes their fevers and stuff w cryo and also the man can heal himself w his elem skill ofc he can fix someone if he tries hard enough <3

he gives kisses no matter how much his partner says not to but he’ll also give them butterfly kisses so it’s soft moments too~ sigh, ur too cute alberich

asks ohm and barbara and albedo and lisa for potions and such to help his partner feel better but he’s really lowkey so he doesn’t seem SUPER worried

he just hates seeing his partner not feeling so well </3

refreshes his partner’s vase of flowers at their bedside every day

brings home work so he can watch over his partner. he can’t cook super well either so he asks for help and brings stuff home from good hunter too

jean was okay to let kaeya off of work and diluc would never admit it (man practically swore everyone to secrecy smh) but he helped take up some of kaeya’s duties in his stead

and kae, the alcoholic, didn’t even drink while his partner was sick bc he was lowkey worried they would need his help w smth and he didn’t want to be drunk just in case <3

many cuddles despite protests of getting him sick <3

jean

absolutely uses her healer skills to make her partner feel better

panicked when they were still sick and thought it was her fault </3 she asked barbara and ohm for help and they just told jean to relax a bit bc her partner was sick and it wasn’t going to be a quick fix

wanted to take off work but didn’t, so she just brought her work with her

kaeya and ohm very kindly took up her other duties where she had to leave so she could be w her partner

her partner is staying in the kof hq where they get access to ohm and barbara comes to visit <3 but also so that jean can sleep comfortably enough close by bc you cannot tell me this woman does not sometimes sleep in her office or the library and barely makes it to the kof dormitories sometimes

she’s so worried the entire time, she’s probably got a few gray hairs and a new frown line smh

she has clothes that aren’t her work clothes???? it’s so foreign seeing her in stuff like pajamas. you didn’t even know jean owned pajamas

jean sets them up in her bed at home (yeah she has a place outside of the kof hq??? it’s surprising) but it’s a big bed so they can rest and she’ll have the lamp on her side on while she sits up and does work

absolutely dotes on them. she’s good at making foods that make them feel better, she’s just a good healer that way <3

albedo, klee, venti, kaeya, lisa, and ohm all come over to check on jean and co and make sure everyone is doing okay <3 lots of food brought

if jean was asked to sing to her partner normally, she probably wouldn’t bc she’d probably get embarrassed but i think she probably sounds v good and venti would give her his lyre to try out a musical instrument too. but also she’d read to her partner and they’d probably fall asleep together uwu

lisa

works part time hours at the library so she can go visit her s/o

probably asks them to stay at the kof hq for easier access to medical assistance and plus she’s almost always there

“cutie” but worried and very 🥺 (pleading emoji)

makes soup and potions and reads to her partner until they fall asleep

also super playful omg she’s still got a smile on and is full of affection while she walks her fingers up her partner’s arm to their face so she can cup their cheek

she’ll make her partner laugh and smile and blush even when they’re sick, but she makes them laugh until they cough sometimes and immediately feels so bad

jean, barbara, kaeya, albedo and ohm all come to visit with different foods and soups and medicines and such

klee comes knocking and gives lisa some good fisherman’s toast and asks lisa’s s/o if they want to hug dodoco b/c that always makes klee feel better

purple roses galore, lisa has them in her partner’s room and they’ve got a potion to make the. uh. sniffer? to make the sniffer feel better. don’t ask me how, idk but she would find a way to make them physically feel better with flowers

reads to her partner ofc, and she tells them stories ab her own life and time at sumeru sans the crazies

worried looks when her s/o is sleeping but also the softest smiles when they wake up pls-

albedo

cutest lil frown on his face when he finds out his partner is sick

immediately they are taken home and he’s testing to confirm what’s wrong w them and what he can do to speed up their recovery

he’s more distracted than usual at work but he’s coming over to your place all the time w what paperwork he can do

also sketches his partner while they don’t know. he’s got lots of beautiful candids of his partner sleeping, looking out the window, falling asleep, reading, even drinking water. he’s made the most mundane things look captivating

kaeya and ohm come to check on albedo when he doesn’t show up for work after a few days and it’s bc he’s taking care of his s/o with food and soup and alchemical potions and shit. and when kae and ohm come in, they find his partner opening the door wrapped in a blanket while albedo is asleep cuddling the pillow they left bc he stayed up the night before making soup and reading to them

klee has camped out on his partner’s couch, she helps w the cooking too~ she absolutely lets them hug dodoco and gives them a treasure to feel better too LOL

many kisses from klee and albedo, and they also go out to get treats for albedo’s partner too

domestic albedo cooking in his partner’s kitchen and for once it isn’t some alchemical potion that he might blow up the stove with

tartaglia

takes off work entirely but BOY OH BOY is he stir crazy smh

brings his partner to his apartment to rest <3

he’s so worried ab his s/o that he makes all the sick ppl food the first day, orders from wanmin restaurant when his partner wants smth different, and also gets toys and such to entertain them otherwise

also reads to his partner but, again, he gets stir crazy after a while

absolutely does workouts and katas in the living room and phew shirtless tartaglia working out? gets the heart rate up for sure ahem

rushes to his partner tho omg- need soup? water? a trip to the bathroom? another blanket? he goes to them the MOMENT he hears them moving around. absolutely dotes on them <3

his family knows ab his partner and he’s probably written letters ab them being sick~ his family sent snezhnayan herbs and flowers and medicines and such

zhongli comes around because he wants sugar daddy!tartaglia with tea and medicine from bubu pharmacy. hu tao is in tow with well wishes and a “hope i don’t find you at work!” which is. a little worrying because aren’t you just a little sick-

many kisses from tartaglia because he is Needy and he’ll absolutely get sick from cuddling his partner while they sleep

also he’ll probably just like. envelop his partner while they sleep. they’re all cuddled into him and he’s actually so warm it’s nice bc they’re cold w a fever and he’s living for comforting them

he’s so worried tho, he’s got the frowny face and he’s so adorable but he just doesn’t want his partner to feel sick

dainsleif

the man camps in ruins, he’s going to his partner’s house smh

he doesn’t go into the church either LOL so expect him in his partner’s home making dinner and doing their grocery shopping thanks

he would get ohm and barbara to come over tho <3 “fix them please” but also “how can i fix them”

is so dead set on making sure his partner takes their medicine at the right times, he’s so soft for them and them alone

cooks soup and old recipes he barely remembers from khaenri’ah. he doesn’t really get sick, so he doesn’t remember these ones too clearly. deffo brings back old memories he’d long forgotten

reads to his partner and tells them old stories of how the world used to be, his travels, gives them the gossip on a certain khaenri’ahn but doesn’t give away the name

ohm comes over with medicine and lollipops bc dain is so unlikely to go to the cathedral to get barbara smh

but also dain, so self-sufficient, is unlikely to want to ask for help, so ohm just goes to help anyway

dain with the old khaenri’ahn lullabies and tucking his partner into his arms and singing quietly while he holds them and rocks them to sleep

dain is immortal, he’s giving his partner kisses bc “i’m immortal, ofc i won’t get sick”

he got sick

but his s/o nursed him back to health and then there were smooches the end

ohm ambros

the doctor with his ill lover oh my god

he’s frowny, he’s taking care of his partner at his home in springvale and his home clinic is open to everyone else. but everyone knows his partner is the first priority LOL

kaeya and albedo come over to see if ohm is okay or if his house needs to be checked up on. they’re wondering if he went on a last-minute expedition to sumeru and didnt tell them

diluc comes over too, he’s just checking up on his best friend but he’s also stealing a cherry lollipop smh. he heard from kae that ohm’s partner is sick tho, so he brings some soup and good food over from adelinde. he also brings some of his own specialty food tho, the once upon a time in mondstadt <3

sulien sending letters to his big brother to see if his brother’s s/o is okay

ohm is also just super protective of his partner, there are not many people who come into his life who he loves and lets in in the first place. he’s absolutely trying to heal them with his own vitality, so their recovery is much shorter than initially expected

barbara also comes over w jean to check up on ohm and co, complete w a goody basket of soup, a teddy bear, flowers, and books

ohm reading to his partner <3 he’s got such a soothing voice even if his accent is wack LMAO. he’s reading stories and even his paperwork because just his presence is comforting

he puts his hands on his partner’s forehead to soothe the fever goodbye

ohm will not sing for his s/o simply bc he doesn’t think he sounds v good. and he probably doesn’t but it would be so cute to hear him try and please ohm? 🥺

n e way i want smooches idc if i’m sick KISS ME OHM AMBROS

sulien ambros

when he finds out his partner is sick, the man blinks like twice and then suggests so calmly that they go to his apartment in liyue

man does not sleep normally, he’s just going to nurse his partner back to health and read during their recovery. fruit tart can cover his duties for him <3

sulien cooks for his partner tho, he’s making soup and stuff and getting medicine from bubu’s pharmacy. he’s also picking up books on the way home but some of them are to be read to his partner so it’s okay-

like tartaglia, sulien works out while his partner rests and goes to them if he hears them moving around. he’s reading to his partner and not so frowny, but the slightest furrow of this man’s brow is already such a big expression of his concern <3

sends letters to ohm asking for advice ab how to help his partner feel better. ohm just sends a letter back with “i’m coming” and shows up within the day LMAO

reads to his partner, and the monotony of his voice is soothing and lulls them to sleep. he just looks at them affectionately (well affectionate for him) and presses a kiss to their forehead before finishing the story on his own and in his head

tartagalicious comes over and brings food, flowers and a teddy bear with some of sandrone’s paperwork but he sends a smile to sulien’s partner with some well wishes

scara comes over too just to visit and check to see where sandrone is, but scara is a grumpy bean so he just says “feel better” all brooding and like it’s a command to one of the fatui subordinates LOL

sulien like ohm uses his cold hands to soothe his partner’s fever and also gives them forehead kisses <3

Edit: a link to part 2

[animeomegas]

MY FELLOW ANON ARE VIOLATING MY EMOTIONS TODAY 😂 god I’m acc crying. Your writing is amazing. I’m gonna combat the sadness with a wholesome thing of them finding a pup in a bin (or something) a few months after the loss of the first pup (Neji is currently shut down entirely) is like “lol gimme”. Proceeds to take the pup home, put it in his nest scent the lil bean (gender is your choice) and just be like “yeah this mine now”. Any nay sayers are ignored bc it’s still his baby (maybe almost like his pup reincarnated 👀👀) regardless of how baby was obtained. Idk I just think my guy needs some positivity after life kicking the ever loving shit out of him

This is beautiful and you’re right, Neji deserves the world, but I’ll settle with a quiet life and some happiness for my boy!

Okay, so things haven’t been…good with Neji since you had to let your pup die to save him.

It has been two months and still he lays in his nest every day, sometimes crying, sometimes whining, but mostly just staring at nothing. He had incorporated a bunch of baby stuff (blankets, toys etc.) into his nest before he went to the hospital, in order to make his pup feel more at home in the nest when he was supposed to bring them back. You had tried to take them out to stop him having to be confronted with what happened in his safe space, but Neji almost attacked you for doing so, so you let him keep them.

But it’s very concerning when he spends hours at a time just stroking the pup's blankets and staring at nothing.

So, you decide to take Neji on a walk to get him out of the house. It would be his first time leaving the house since the funeral.

You go at night time, because Neji is still refusing any contact with anyone he knows and this way he’s less likely to be confronted when he isn’t ready for it. To make extra sure that you can be alone, you decide to walk around the edge of the woods around one of the quieter training grounds.

Neji doesn’t speak much, but he doesn’t whine or cry either, and the night air brings a little colour to his cheeks, and you’re so happy at the small improvements. It doesn’t matter how long it ends up taking him to feel better, you’ll be here with him the whole way.

…

“I was thinking about cooking something special next week,” you make idle conversation, not expecting Neji to reply. “It’s our anniversary after all, do you have any preference?”

Neji stops walking suddenly. His shoulders are tense.

“Neji?”

He hushes you harshly.

“I can hear…”

Without another word of warning, Neji makes his way a little further into the trees. You follow him, confused and worried.

“Byakugan!” he calls, scanning the area. He gasps as he scans over a nearby bush and immediately he drops to his knees beside it.

“Neji?” you ask, now more than a little concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You watch as Neji pulls something out of the bush. He turns around with a bundle in his arms.

“It’s a pup,” Neji says, obviously shocked. You can’t blame him, you’re feeling more than a little shocked yourself. What on earth was a pup doing out here? “They’re freezing. Give me your jacket.”

Without hesitance, you quickly slip your jacket of and hand it to Neji who promptly bundles up the pup in it and brings them to his chest. The pup is making small whimpering noises that had been almost impossible to hear over the wind. Neji must have hear them, thank goodness.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Neji coos to the pup. “You’re safe now, I'll take you home and make it better, I promise.”

“We need to get them to the hospital asap," you say, shaking your head. "They must be freezing and they look underweight as well. We’re not mednin, Neji.”

“Our home is closer.”

“Neji…”

“We need to make sure they’re warm,” he argues. “We can bring them home and alert a medic to make a home visit.”

You look at the earnest look on his face and know that he won’t back down, and now isn’t a time for arguments anyway.

“Okay,” you swallow nervously. “We’ll bring them home.”

…

You bring the pup back to your home and before you can protest, Neji brings them into his nest with a mumbled ‘they’ll be warm in there’.

Neji bundles himself and the pup up in the corner of the nest, turning on a little heater beside him, and tucking the pup into his shirt to share body warmth.

“We’ll get you nice and warm, it’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t let anyone harm you,” he whispers while stroking their cheek with a finger. The pup wriggles around, already looking more energetic, and starts mouthing at Neji’s chest.

“Are you hungry?” Neji laughs softly before turning to you. “Go and heat up a bottle for the pup, all the supplies are in the… the nursery.”

You nod dumbly and do as you’re asked, astounded at how much life is in Neji’s eyes. It’s the most life you’ve seen from him in months. But you can’t help but worry. What if Neji gets attached and you can’t keep the pup? Of course, you want nothing more than to keep the baby, it almost seems too good to be true that she literally fell into both your lives at this trying time, but what if it is too good to be true? What if they’re sick? Or their parents are looking for them? Or… something else. Neji doesn’t deserve another heartbreak, and you don’t want to destroy the small amount of progress he’s made in the last month.

But for now, all you can do is heat up the bottle.

…

“Here, it’s a good temperature, I already checked,” you pass Neji the bottle. He checks it again anyway and you can’t help but smile at how overprotective and parental he's being. It's so bittersweet to see him like this.

“Here you go sweetheart, just for you,” Neji smiles, cradling the pup as they latch onto the bottle with fervour. “Shh, shh, shh, slow down, it’s not going anywhere.”

Neji feeds the pup and then burps them, and you pretend you can’t see him smiling when he notices that they are starting to smell like him. You need to know you can keep her before you let him get even more attached.

“I’m going to send a clone for a medic, now.”

The room became tense all at once.

“They’re fine, I’m looking after them,” Neji protests.

“I know, and you’re doing a good job, but we still need a medic, Neji.”

Neji holds the pup more tightly to his chest, tucking an extra blanket around them. He's using the special blanket you had got commissioned for your pup. You can feel your heart break at the sight. He's already attached. Now you just have to hope you can keep them. For his sake.

“I don’t want them to take the pup away like last time,” Neji admits softly. "I can look after them, I won't let anything happen like last time, I promise. They'll be safe, we don't need a medic."

���We need to know their primary and secondary gender, omega, and we need to make sure they aren’t sick after being left in the woods…”

Neji hesitates but nods his consent in the end after you explain that your pup could become ill if left untreated. You don’t tell him that you are also sending a clone to the Hokage. Naruto will be able to grant you and Neji the right to keep the pup, and you hope that as Neji’s friend, he’ll be able to see how much he needs this.

…

You have to move Neji and the pup downstairs to wait for the medic, because Neji would not appreciate someone unknown seeing his nest he made for his pup. He’s not expecting Naruto to show up as well so you go to the door to intercept and prep them both.

“Thank you so much for coming, Naruto, I can’t tell you how much this means to me and Neji,” you say, hugging him as he walks through the door.

“I’m going to do everything I can,” he promises. “If the medic finds signs of long-term neglect, I can take the parental rights away from the biological parents straight away, even if I don't know who they are, and transfer you the rights.”

Your face visibly brightens, but Naruto continues.

“But if the only injuries are from laying in the forest for a few hours, I’ll have to try and find the parents first, because the child may have been taken from them by force, when the pup was otherwise a healthy baby being looked after sufficiently. In that circumstance, I’ll have to take the child back with me and put them in foster care until a three-month window has passed. And if the parents are found…”

“I know,” you sigh. “Let’s just get this done as soon as possible.”

The three of you walk into the living to see Neji cradling the pup tightly against his chest.

“Hey Neji,” Naruto greets softly with a sad smile. “I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

Neji tenses upon seeing Naruto.

“Naruto? Why are you here?” Neji clearly misinterprets the situation, holding the pup even more tightly and turning accusatory eyes against you. “Why did you bring him here?”

“I’m here to determine whether the pup was abandoned or kidnapped to the best of my abilities, once we have that done, we can decide how things are going to happen, okay?”

“How do you decide that?” Neji asks with distrustful eyes.

“The medic will give them a check-up, completely routine, I promise,” Naruto speaks with a soft voice like he’s talking to a cornered animal. Well, you look at Neji for a moment who is coiled as tightly as spring, he’s not far off.

It takes about five minutes for you to convince Neji to let go of the pup and hand them to the mednin, and then the next fifteen minutes involve you holding him in your arms to stop him wrestling the pup back from the mednin.

And then, rather ominously, the mednin pulls Naruto aside to talk.

Neji is shaking in your arms.

“It’s okay, calm down, Neji,” you try to comfort him.

“I can’t-“ Neji chokes, hands fisting in your shirt. “He has our pup, you let them take our pup.”

You don’t bother to correct him on his use of ‘our’, knowing it would only upset him more.

“I know baby, but they need to see that they’re healthy, nothing’s wrong, just breathe.”

Neji doesn’t take your advice.

"Last time they took them-"

"This isn't like last time, omega. Come one, try and settle down a little, that's it."

...

Naruto eventually walks back in, holding the pup securely, the mednin nowhere to be seen.

“So,” Naruto says seriously. And then his face breaks out into a wide grin. “Am I right in thinking you want to adopt?”

You can almost feel your relief in the air. Thanking every power that be for this stroke of luck. Losing this pup could have easily meant losing your mate, and the gravity of the situation all comes crashing down at once. Neji looks as though he is feeling much the same.

“Give me them,” he orders, arms out.

“Her,” Naruto corrects. “The mednin said she’s a female alpha.”

Tears start welling up in Neji’s eyes as he takes her. Their bio pup was a female alpha, too.

“Thank you,” he whispers to no one, holding his new pup as tightly as he dared. “I’ve got you now, you’re safe and sound with me, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Naruto slips out of the house without a fuss, dropping the mednin’s recommendations for feeding the underweight pup on the coffee table.

...

You and Neji take your new pup upstairs and bundle her back into the nest. Neji lays down with her, stroking her cheek as he watches her sleep.

“You need to get some rest too, omega,” you suggest, running a hand down Neji’s back.

“Guard?” he asks in response.

“Yes," you smile at his protective instincts. "I’ll guard the nest while you sleep, I promise.”

“Okay, alpha…” Neji settles down, still with one hand resting on the pup. “But if I don’t wake up when she cries, wake me… I want to be the one to feed her.”

You laugh gently, “Of course, now get some sleep. I’ll guard you both.”

[bukojuiice]

are you feline what i’m feline? — todoroki shoto

ೃ pairing: cat boy! ┃pro hero! todoroki shoto  x fem pro hero! reader

ೃ  tags: smut 18+ (the rest of the tags are below the cut!)

ೃ  warnings: nsfw

ೃ wc: 3k words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  blessed with a quirk that can temporarily transform any human being into any living thing they want through the means of potions and concoctions, you brew up a cat girl potion to surprise shoto for your second year anniversary. however, some accidents and mishaps happen, and you’re welcomed home by a handsome cat boy instead.  

ೃ dedicating this fic to the lovely and amazing @todosweetheart​ bc her cat boy! shoto art is the reason why this fic exists. thank u for the content u feed us val! 🥰💓

additional tags:  use of natural aphrodisiac, cat boy! kink, overstimulation, fingering, kitten/cat play, rough but loving sex)

You had just recently moved in to a new neighborhood with your boyfriend, Todoroki Shoto. 

Your blissful domestic life with him was just about to begin and life couldn’t get any better than this. and yet... 

sometimes you wish you could do more for him. 

The two of you met when you were hired to work at his father’s agency, stealing glances at him by the reception area whenever you came in for work, and coincidentally getting into the same elevator as him. Not knowing that he was woefully smitten with you too. It was only through the probing of your co-workers that you had drunkenly confessed to him at a company party and he had (soberly) confessed to you too.

That was where everything started. 

That was how you and the No. #3 Pro-hero got together.

Sometimes, it made you think if you were even worthy of his love. 

You were just a hero with a support quirk; with it being used for more science and field-related work as your powers made you manifest and create drinkable liquids that could change the physical appearance of a person (make them invisible, turn them into an animal, or even turn them back into a child or into an elderly person) for a limited time and depending on how strong or weak the solution. This means that through your quirk, you are able to tamper with a person’s DNA through these concoctions without any consequences. It was a powerful quirk, just like magic, yes, but can it be used for offense? Sadly not.

Shoto’s quirk was the exact opposite. Bearing the quirk of fire and ice, he was the definition of perfection. The perfect quirk, the perfect combination of two exact opposite elements, and how adept he is at using both of them. Often praised and hailed by the public for not only being extremely powerful, but also for how painstakingly handsome he is. You were just waiting for some controversial tabloid to talk about the No. 3 Pro Hero and his girlfriend who was way out of his league. 

Shoto constantly reassures you not to worry about them, never failing to calm you down with his gentle I love you’s and forehead kisses whenever he sees you tensed up and nervous, and never failing to tell you that you are the light of his life and his strength to continue fighting. and yet, it still worries you sometimes.

Today marks your 2 year anniversary. 

The two of you decide to go out on a simple date tonight at one of the best-reviewed restaurants in the neighborhood as the two of you were busy with throwing out the moving boxes and unwrapping your furniture, combined with the hero work that the two of you do during the day. Completely ruling out the possibility of being able to plan an elaborate anniversary date. 

But, it was alright. As cheesy as Shoto makes it sound, no day can ever become the worst, as long as he’s spending it with you. 

“Ah~ Those crepes were super yummy! Plus, the cafe was really cute!” You beam with a satisfying yawn, the two of you walking side by side, hand holding the other, and his arm wrapped around your shoulder for that extra warmth against the cold summer night. 

“Yea. There was a classy vibe to it. That was my first time trying a galette, and I must say that was tasty.” He remarks, turning to you. Your radiant and lively energy was infectious and he can’t help but smile. “Leave it to Mina and Sato to know all the best restaurants, I suppose.”

You nod contentedly and the two of you continue to walk back home in silence. Shoto looks around, taking in the sight and wondering if he could point out any small details about your surroundings that could make you laugh or smile. He notices a small shadow perk up from beneath a bush and he casually points at it. “Hmm? (Y/N), look over there.” 

You follow Shoto’s gaze and also notice the small shadowy figure. “Oh?”

The quiet sound of a purr could be heard from the bush. The two of you wait a little bit for the creature to reveal itself. A black cat pounces out of the plant, it’s beautiful green eyes staring back at you. “Meoooow.”

The cat walks up to you and you crouch down, putting your hand out, and wait patiently. Sure enough, the cat nuzzles against it. 

“Ahhh she’s so cute.” You observe the cat a bit more and notice it’s femme feline features. Shoto crouches down next to you and pats it’s head. Clearly the kitty seems to enjoy all this attention as she’s purring up a storm. “She is.” 

You glance at Shoto and notice how his eyes glimmered a different blue-grey light as he continued to play with the kitten. Pure bliss present in his face. His handsome and soft features make you blush, with the heat rising up to your cheeks, you quickly turn away before Shoto could notice you.

Bingo.

What if you turned into a Cat Girl and made Shoto… ya know…

It was a simple formula after all. You could whip up a concoction, sprinkle in a little bit of natural aphrodisiac and that’s it! The recipe to the sexiest and kinkiest night of your life! Maybe you could show your love to Shoto in a different way than most girlfriends do to their boyfriends no?

“AHAH!” You suddenly jump up from the ground, your boyfriend perks up a little bit in surprise too. You then bring out your phone and begin scrolling through your notes. “Sho-kun! Come on! Let’s get home!” You grab his hand and drag him away. He adjusts his running to your pace, smiling at your sudden burst of eagerness and excitement. “Alright alright, love. Be careful so we don’t trip.”

That night, you told Shoto to not wait for you as you had to brew up some potions for tomorrow as specially requested by a hero from your agency. Although reluctant at first to leave you, he intently watched you work your magic at  the little science lab in your house. The smell of the strong chemicals waft around the living room, prompting him to retreat back to your bedroom, but not without a quick kiss (that was about to turn into a make out session) before bed. 

“Happy anniversary, Love.” Shoto holds you by the waist, resting his head on your shoulder. The two of you swaying slightly to the non-existent rhythm and this makes you almost want to go to bed with him. “Shall we continue this tomorrow?” He peppers kisses down your neck, you giggle in response. 

“We shall.” You turn to him and deliver a kiss to his lips. You pull away before you could even begin to think of yearning for more. “I’m sorry if we had to cut our anniversary short. It’s your day off tomorrow right? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He nods first before giving you one last kiss, this time on the forehead. “Goodnight (Y/N). I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He pulls away. you watch him leave your lab first and make sure he’s out of sight before you get back to work. 

After a few more hours of solving the formula and crafting the recipe for a potion that doesn’t necessarily turn you into a cat, but rather, give you only cat ears and a cat tail, yu bring out a thermos bottle from the cupboard and pour in the liquid solvent along with the natural aphrodisiac. You stir it a little bit before using your quirk to add the finishing touch and to make it a viable and an actually working potion. 

“Can’t wait to drink this tomorrow.” You snicker to yourself, as you pour all of the liquid onto the thermos, storing it in the fridge and then proceed to go to your bedroom and finally hit the sack.

“AHH I’M LATE!” You rush out of the bedroom, messy bedhead hair, your hero suit not even fully zipped up, mismatched socks, and your bag tossing and turning, most of the contents falling out, your thermos being one of them. “I’M LATE FOR WORK! BYE! I LOVE YOU!” You greet Shoto who was eating his breakfast in the kitchen, planting him a farewell kiss on the cheek as you dash your way out of the house. 

“I l-love you too.” He bids goodbye with a wave, but you weren’t even there to hear it anymore. Shoto’s eyes cast downward, a bit disappointed that he wasn’t even able to greet you properly this morning and how your anniversary date felt so short even though you promised each other you would spend more time together later today. 

He then notices your water bottle on the ground. A sticky note that was labeled “Drink me!” was attached to it and of course as every other person would react once they see a note like that,

Shoto thought that was for him. 

“SHO! I’M BACK!” You call out to him, closing the door behind you. “Sho~?” You sing-song, peering through the kitchen and the living room but your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. “Where are youuu?” You continue to traverse through your house, looking for him. You grind to a halt when you notice your thermos bottle on top of the dining table… All empty.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no.

“Shoto!” You call out, your voice cracking with nervousness. You rush to your bedroom, hoping and praying that he was there. Only… for the lights to be out. 

“Sho?” Your hand reaches out for the light switch. But, you hesitate. What if a demon had kidnapped your boyfriend and you had to save him!? What can your quirk even do to save him!?

“(Y/N)...” He finally responds. Although his tone was soft and still a bit suspicious, you breathe a sigh of a relief and finally turn on the lights.

The lights illuminate the room to reveal your boyfriend in his usual turtleneck fit that you always ogle at. You look up and down, noticing that this is still the same man you know and love and nothing bad actually happened until… 

You look up and behind him.

He’s still the same man you know and love. 

Just this time however. he’s a cat boy. 

“I drank the potion that you made.” He says ever so casually, nothing ever fazes him as usual. “It had a “drink me!” sticky note attached to it and I thought it was for me.” He continues to speak plainly. You thought you could get out of this situation scotch-free and you didn’t have to explain to your loving boyfriend what had happened to him. That was until he crossed his arms, his feet tapping the ground, and his cat tail waving behind him. “Please explain to me why I am now a cat boy.” 

“Well…” You began twiddling with your fingers, trying your very best not to make eye contact with him or else you would end up squealing in delight because of how adorable he looked. “You see, I made this potion to turn me into a cat girl so that I can… ya know… please you and stuff. I saw how affectionate you were with the cat we saw last night so.. I guess you can consider this as my late anniversary gift to you?” You laugh sheepishly, still trying your best not to look at him as his gaze intensifies. 

Shoto’s black and white cat ears twitch as he tries to stifle a laugh. “Fine. I forgive you. This will wear off eventually right?” You nod in response and Shoto’s shoulders slump down in relief. He was about to approach you and envelop you in a hug, until his legs wobbled midway and he practically fell down onto the floor. 

You rush to him and help him stand up, propping himself on the bed. “Sho… are you alright love?”

He starts breathing heavily, cat ears twitching once again, fingers trembling, lips quivering, and his face as red as a tomato. “(Y/N)... what was even in that potion you made?”

You suddenly remember the aphrodisiac you added to the recipe.

Oh no no no no (2)

Shoto suddenly turns away from you before you could notice the bulge rising in his pants. He covers his face in embarrassment, refusing to look at you. 

“I also added some aphrodisiac and some catnip into the potion ahahaha…” You scratch the back of your neck. Shoto turns to you again, his eyes glowing like that of a cat and giving off a smoldering feeling. He shifts your position, gently yet somehow arduously pinning you down on the bed. He steps closer, hands moving up your sides, going around your back, pulling you flush against him. Shoto nips at your earlobe, sending sparks through you. 

You bite back a moan as he kisses your neck, his tongue hot, the gentle scrape of his teeth (slightly sharped like that of fangs) leaving you shivering. 

The two of you stop for a bit. He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. Tension coils around him, barely contained energy. As if Shoto is preventing himself from showing you his animalistic and feline hunger wanting to ravage you.

“C-can I-”

Before Shoto could even utter another word, you grab his face and pull him back into a desperate kiss, capturing his gasp and the throaty moan that follows. You capture his mouth with yours, and he responds eagerly, his kiss fervent, all his restraint crumbling at your touch. 

He kisses your chin, and you tip your head back as he trails his lips down your neck, murmuring praise.

He lays you down, hiking your shirt up, tossing it to the floor, then deftly unhooking your bra, and exposing your breasts. You giggle and reach for his pants, unzipping the fly and getting a little thrill when you see the huge bulge in his boxers. 

You push up his turtleneck sweater to admire his abs and Shoto smiles back at you seductively. 

“Like what you see?” He says teasingly, a little quip that he barely does when the two of you make love, his husky voice makes your stomach swoop.

“I can only tell you if you purr first.” You tease back, running your fingers over his cat ears. Shoto  feels the tickling sensation build up inside of him, slowly about to give in to his raw animal instincts. While you continue to run your fingers through his cat features, he begins to suck and nibble on your breasts. You feel yourself get lost in his gentle caress, barely even notice him pulling off your panties and sliding them off between your legs. Shoto’s fingers slowly slide into your womanhood, as if testing out the waters. He works them in and out for a bit, then pulls them out, brings them to his mouth, and licks them. 

Like a kitten licking its milk. 

“Sho…”

You feel the last of Shoto’s restraint break as his cat ears twitch again, you can practically feel the energy crackling around him, and the hunger in his eyes more evident than a while ago. Shoto then braces his arms beside your head, as he slots his hips between your thighs. You rise up to meet him, a low moan spilling from your lips. 

“(Y/N)... I’m going to put it in now…”

You bite your lip and nod in confirmation. 

Shoto gently sets a slow pace, your head spins at the sensation and the arousal coursing through you, your hips rolling to meet the movements of his cock. As he enters, the thrilling sensation courses through you again and your mind feels like it just melted. 

You gently rub his cat ears again, and his cock twitches inside of you, the enthralling reaction resulting in a shudder of pleasure shooting through your body, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And that pleasure transmits to Shoto loud and clear from your pussy. 

Meanwhile, his breathing was ragged, more wild and animalistic than normal. Which is to be expected due to the potion but… this hot and intense feeling radiating off of him was different. 

And you love it.

“I-I feel like I’m losing control…”

As Shoto speaks, he slams his cock into you, making your legs shake and you moaning louder than you should. Everything seems more intense, from his thrusting to the look on his eye. 

At this point, it’s getting harder and harder to form a coherent sentence. 

“Is it alright if I go faster?” Shoto says softly, you hold his hand in reassurance, unable to respond properly as every intense emotion running inside of you makes you let out hitched and breathy moans instead. 

Shoto pulls out halfway, then slams back inside of you, making a loud sticky sound.

The two of you were acting like animals in heat. 

“A-ah! Shoto!” You mewl out, each of Shoto’s thrust hitting an undiscovered part of your insides. Spurred on by your voice, his pace further increases, until you’re both moving frantically. You gasp at his intensity, at the weight and heat of his body pinning you down.

“(Y/N)! I’m going to-” 

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on, and his fluffy tail briefly brushes against you. Shoto’s body tenses up as he prepares to unload inside of you.

Shoto’s body spasms- including his tail. Waves of pleasure flood over you as his semen shoots full-force into your depths.

The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a minute before he slowly lays himself next to you, his feline features slowly disappearing as you try to catch your breath.

“L-look they disappeared with one whoosh.” You say in between pants and giggles, Shoto covering the two of you with your bed duvet, chuckling along with you/

“Next time, please label things properly and tell me if you added any sort of ingredient that could increasingly highten my sex drive.” He says with an exasperated sigh, yet satisfaction plastered all over his face as he looks at you lovingly. “I love you (Y/N). Happy anniversary… nya~” He whispers the last few words, shooting you a wink. 

Your eyes widen, your mouth forming into an O like that one Chris Pratt meme. “Y-you just said…”

“Let’s h-have a nap and just have some late dinner instead.” He shushes you by planting a kiss on your forehead. 

You were about to protest, but as soon as Shoto shut his eyes, you didn’t bother doing so anymore.

You plant a kiss on his knuckles, snuggling closer to him. “I love you too Sho. Happy anniversary.”

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting�� experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[fandom-monium]

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be? 

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows. 

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous. 

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about? 

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all. 

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.” 

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are. 

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal. 

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that. 

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed? 

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh. 

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door. 

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug. 

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now? 

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name." 

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

 "You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions. 

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you. 

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting. 

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you? 

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare. 

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile. 

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles. 

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago. 

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back. 

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile. 

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.” 

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters. 

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism. 

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance 

[miniscule-meow]

Ok so- I’ve been in the G/t game for over a couple years now, and I gotta say I am absolutely in love with your content. Like all of your stories and prompts are just *chefs kiss*. You’re doing an amazing job & are very talented in your writing!!

I will admit I found your account last night and have been nonstop reading everything you’ve made and even finished it, so I’m nothing short of obsessed :D I eagerly await your next chapters/work!

I think my favorite duo is between Zeke and Isabelle specifically - I love all 4 of them in the story but stoic soft giants & vulnerability just get ya girls knees w e a k.

If I may, I thought of a prompt (also bc I can’t find if you’ve posted one so I’m sorry if this is off script) but I would be curious as to how you’d spin , “I know what I said, but right now I need you.” no pressure to use! But I just wanted to throw it out there I guess :)

Ah! Thank you SO much. It really means a lot to me <3 <3 <3 <3

Stoic giants that are also soft giants are probably one of my favorite things, so S A M E! I always love writing more about them!

Also, thanks for the prompt!!! (that's why it took me so long to respond to this lol) Hope you enjoy it! <3

*~*~*~*

Since they talked about it, they had all worked together to modify all the furniture in the house. Outfitting the legs of the tables with ladders and climbing holds. They’ve even added some rest landings on some of the taller furniture items around the apartment. They made walkways outfitted with railings along the walls, so that she could move around parts of the apartment without having to be on the floor. Of course, she often elects to be carried anyway. But when she wants to move around on her own, it's there for her.

Zeke is in the office that he shares with Marcus, working away at his sewing table, per usual. He has been spending a lot of time in there. Perhaps too much time, even. Lately, her and Marcus have had to remind him that food exists and is a necessary part of survival. Marcus has tried to get him to take breaks and to relax, but it seems as though taking breaks has the opposite effect on Zeke. Almost like stopping is more stressful to him than working non-stop for 12 hours on what is supposed to be his day off. If he isn’t sewing, he’s on his laptop working on something for school. Isabell is glad that she doesn’t have to do school like Zeke and Marcus, it sounds stressful.

Zeke had made it very clear to everyone in the house today that he was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Marcus just told him to try to remember to eat a snack at least, but that he shouldn’t have to worry about him. He had classes all day today, so he wouldn’t be in the house. As for her, she’s set herself up in the living room. She could watch something on Netflix or play something on the switch. She’ll be more than fine just keeping herself busy until Zeke decides to take a quick break, or until Marcus comes home, which will probably happen first if she had to guess.

She can hear the muffled noise of Zeke’s sewing machine from down the hall just plugging away as he works. Sometimes the machine goes quiet, and she hears him clicking and typing on his laptop. It’s like he uses a ‘break’ to work on more work.

The day passes slowly. She eventually makes her way into the kitchen to get herself a snack. Marcus had left out some fruit, crackers, and cheese for them both. He figured that it would be easier to convince Zeke to eat something if he didn’t have to put any effort into making it. Also, it makes it much easier for her to get some food for herself when it’s just set out on the counter like that. After she eats, she wonders if Zeke could use a snack as well. She knows he told them not to bother him at all, but a quick snack break won’t kill him. She’s just a little nervous because he might be really grumpy about it.

She’s been with him before when Marcus comes in and ‘disturbs his work-flow’ as he calls it. Zeke can really stare daggers. Marcus is typically unfazed by them, but she’s always been glad that gaze has never been focused on her. Zeke is typically all bark and no bite though. He’ll complain, but usually he’ll just huff and take the break anyway.

Finally, she reaches the office after going back and forth with herself if she should try to bother him or if she should just let him be like he requested. She quietly peeks inside to try and gauge whether or not he might be at a good stopping point before she tries to interrupt him.

She finds him slumped over onto his desk with one hand buried in his hair. His shoulders rise and fall at a sporadic, uneven pace. Concerned, she takes a step closer.

“Zeke?”

He jolts, sitting upright and wiping at his face before turning to look over at her. He makes an attempt to compose his regular stoic expression, but it’s all off. His eyes are red and puffy, tears stain his cheeks. His breathing is still jagged and looking closer she can see his lip quivering as he tries to hold himself together. Taken aback, her heart lurches in her chest. She has never seen him like this before. He always appears so calm and collected. He maintains an image of confidence. Nothing ever seems to get under his skin, aside from the occasional jest from Marcus getting him a bit flustered. Something must really be going on for him to be this distraught.

“Isabell.” His voice wavers. He frowns and clears his throat.

“Are you… are you okay?” She asks even though she can clearly see that he is not.

“Oh yes. I am quite alright. Just… busy.” He’s obviously lying, but he probably just doesn’t want to be bothered about it. Most likely, he just wants her to leave so he can carry on in private, not that he would ever right out say that to her. She looks at him skeptically.

“Okay… Um… I guess I can just…” She begins inching her way back to the door. She knows that’s what he wants, but her heart aches at the thought of just leaving him to deal with his on his own. She wants nothing more than to fix whatever has gotten him so worked up. She just doesn’t know how she could possibly be any help. Maybe if their roles were reversed, and she was the gigantic one. She could scoop him up, whisking him away from his work. She would hold him close to her, cupping him gently in her hands, like he has done so many times for her. Or even if they were the same size. She could wrap him up in a great big hug. But she can’t do any of that as she is, tiny and staring at him helplessly from across the room. “If you’re sure… I’ll just… check back later?” She hesitates, giving him the option to ask her to stay. Zeke just nods, turning back to his work. He fidgets with this and that on his desk with shaking hands, not actually doing anything productive. She stands there for a moment before steeling her nerves and making her way to the desk. As soon as she reaches him, he looks over at her. She can’t read his expression, but she rarely can. That’s stopped bothering her some time ago. Most likely, he’s annoyed with her, but she doesn’t care about that right now. Her main priority is helping him.

“Look, I know you said not to bother you today, and that you’re fine but I-“

“I know what I said.” He shakes his head, what was left of his composure crumbling away into a mess of distressed sobs. “but right now, I need you.” He reaches out to her and instantly she rushes forward to meet his hand. She lets him collect her up into a large embrace. He trembles around her, his body wracked with sobs. “I am so sorry you have to see me like this.” He mumbles through his tears. “It’s really embarrassing.”

“No, don’t worry about that Zeke. You’re fine. Everything is alright.” She hugs his neck to the best of her ability; her arms are stretched out wide. It’s the biggest hug she can manage. It just feels so insignificant to her. “I wish I was bigger so I could actually help you.”

“Don’t say that Bells,” She blushes at the nickname, “You are helping. Besides, I like you just the way you are.” She laughs. Even in his pain he still always tries to comfort her. His cries begin to ease slowly, and eventually he’s taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I just let myself get overwhelmed.” He shakes his head, pulling her away so he can look at her. He uses his free hand to wipe the tears from his face. “About every class I’m in is having an exam all in the same week. So, I’ve been trying to finish homework as well as study for all of those. Then today, the deadline for those projects at my work just got bumped up and it just pushed me over the edge. I feel like I don’t have enough time to get it all done. I’ve been working so much more lately, but it doesn’t feel like I’m making any actual progress. I guess I just feel … stressed and burnt out.”

She hugs his finger, something she can actually wrap her arms around. She isn’t sure she’s ever heard him talk so openly about his feelings. He’s usually so measured, she didn’t consider that he could just be dealing with all of this quietly and alone. She feels bad that she didn’t notice something was wrong until he hit his breaking point.

“Marcus left some food out in the kitchen. Maybe you should take a quick break. Then when you go back at it, you’ll have a clear mind.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” He stands, taking a moment to stretch before heading to the kitchen.

“I could try to help you study while you sew, if you’d like? Then, you’d be able to get two things done at once maybe.”

“Yeah. I’d appreciate that. Thank you, Bells.” He gives her a small, gentle smile.

[pure-kirarin]

Zoro x dancer reader

lofi-coffee said :hey! i just came from your zoro hc’s hxbsjxb which was absolutely *chefs kiss* btw! do you so scenarios? if so could i request a scenario based off of the “good dancer” hc, where hes admiring his s/o dance and she pulls him out to join her? he stumbles, its a lil messy, but who tf cares bc they’re happy and that’s all that mattersplease + thank you. hope you have fun writing it!💕

Thanks for your request and for your feedback ! It makes me so so happy everytime someone reads what I write...Because I never expected that anyone would read my work ! I wrote this and I hope that you like it...I had fun writing it but I don’t know if it’s what you expected or wanted hahah. ~ I love tension uwu Ps: cool tumblr name ;w; <3 (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ **************** How could she move her body that way ? It was almost indecent. That's what was going through Zoro's mind as his sight was hanged to your body. He was sitting there, away from the dance floor, drinking glass after glass of beer. He was lazily looking at you while enjoying his drink. Damn, what a good dancer He was quite entertained by your figure, gracefully moving to the sound of the music. He was in this little bar in Dressrosa, finding his way to it to enjoy a drink before the execution of the plan. The other strawhats were each discovering this rather charming city. Dressrosa...The city of passion, he smirked a bit, looking at you he was begining to understand why it was called that way. The ladies were good dancers, not that he cared about dancing much but...He had to admit that he loved getting entertained while drinking and you were quite the entertainment. Was it the drinks or was it his mind playing him tricks ? Because he was damn sure that it was as if you were the only one on the dance floor... Some soft bachata music was playing. At first, he could only see your back moving sensually. When you turned around, he swallowed pretty hard, both your eyes met and you weren't one to look down. You continued dancing while looking him in the eyes with a little smile on your face. He rised his eyebrow, she's not intimidated ? Good. He smirked, amused by your attitude. You were certainly aware that you were the star of the show. You didn't have a partner either, isn't bachata supposed to be a social dance ? Zoro didn't dwell on these thoughts, he just wanted to enjoy his night, his gaze attached to your body. The swordsman being a bad dancer wasn't going to say nor do anything. He just wanted to look at you and to drink a lot. He didn't want anything from you, in fact, you seemed surreal and he thought for a second that maybe you were the fruit of his imagination and that of the dyonisiac beverage. Maybe if his fingers caressed your hair, you'd vanish in smoke. He turned his face towards the barista, making a sign with his hand to ask for a new drink while his glass was still half full. His eyes then switched to the dance floor and you were gone, just as the music stopped. You vanished. He let out a sigh, were you really just a hallucination ? He thought his tolerance to alcohol was impeccable. « -Hey, are you going to join me or are you just going to look at me ? Your voice was smooth and sensual. Zoro looked from right to left, ah, you were talking to him, after all, you noticed his gaze. -Hm ?  He grumbled, amused but not impressed, not yet. -God. Don't react this way. Your eyes almost poked a hole through my body and now that's all you say ? » Zoro thought that you were quite aggressive in your advance. He wasn't going to deny that he was indeed looking at you. He didn't feel shy, he just looked and you couldn't blame him for it, not when you danced in that way. He looked you right in your eyes, looking for an answer, what did you want from him ? He was surprised of finding amusement, challenge, almost like you were defying him. He wanted to see how far you were going to reach. -I'm drinking. He waves his glass. You were aware of your charm and you knew that the swordsman found you attractive, otherwise he wouldn't look at you this way. But how could he devour you with his eyes and act so ininterested ? Your ego couldn't handle his attitude. You came to him by yourself and he was letting his « chance » go. Didn't he know how many other guys dream of dancing with you ? But you were drawn to this stranger, to this man that you have never seen around. His look when you were dancing caught your attention, it wasn't just a look of lust, it was a mixture of appreciation, fascination and desire. You wanted to know why he looked at you that way. You snatched the glass off his hand and drank its content in one go. He looked at you surprised. Wild. He thought to himself. He was starting to get interested in you. Could you be entertaining in more than one way ? You put the glass on the zinc quite violently and then you hold his sleeve really tight, pulling him a bit. «- Now you don't have an excuse. You dance ? He appreciated your boldness, however, what he didn't want to admit is that he is a really bad dancer. He was content just looking at you...But now you were defying him with that look of yours. -It wasn't an excuse. -Then what ? You're scared that I'll stab you or something... ? -Me ? Scared ?..Don’t make me laugh.” You giggled. Zoro knew about this « rumor », about Dressrosa's women being extremely passionate, stabbing their lovers if they ever cheat...What were you implying ? However, his swordsman pride didn't let him lose to you. He groaned and got up. You had a victorious smile as you held his hand, bringing him to the dance floor. The music started slowly and you knew that he didn't know how to dance Bachata. He was awkward and stiff and you found that to be cute. You wanted to dance with him because you knew that anyone could dance bachata, especially when you were leading. The music started and you put your arms around him. « -Eh...What are you doing here ? What am I supposed to do exactly.. ? You chuckled -It's bachata...here... you took his hand and placed it on your waist and the other one on your back. Don't worry, just follow me...anyone can dance. Place your leg between mine... -what ? -Trust me...Come on...Do it.. Zoro blushed a bit, he wasn't used to all of this dancing thing...it was silly, he just wanted to admire you while drinking but he was too proud to admit that he is « scared » of dancing, especially when you defied him with your fawn eyes. He stumbled, stepping on your feet making you let out an « ouch ! » of pain. His movements were so stiff, and honestly, he was just bad that it was almost cute. You expected a sensual dance, like bachata usually is but his hands on your skin were so tense. -Follow the music...Follow my body. » Some curious looks were on you, you looked amazing together even though the dancing was bad and messy on his part. Your grace almost made up for his false move, honestly all he had to do was to hold you close to him sensually but even something that simple seemed complicated to the swordsman. It was very endearing...Charming. You danced for a little while, following the rhythm of the music. -Oh god...you are worse than I expected...You said, provoking. Zoro was getting impatient and pulled you closer to him very aggressively. You were startled and stopped dancing. The swordsman had this aura that was pulling you towards him like a magnet. His look, the same one that he has earlier while looking at you...It was so intense, you wanted his eyes on you...You were dying out of curiosity for him. « -What's the matter now ?...I thought that you were a good dancer..  A smirk on the lips, a hot touch on your waist and you were already far, far away... -I...I am. You just startled me ! » You tried to hide your embarrassment but he read through your game. He was just as curious for you as you were curious for him. He wanted to see more of your dancing...And dance with you in many other ways. You passed the test, you looked resilient enough to put with his detached attitude. You also weren't scared of looking silly as seen from your little dance with him. The music stopped another time and he gave you a big smile now, he had to say that he didn't expect that he'd have such fun dancing with you. -Thanks for this dance, you said, ready to part ways. As your were turning back, he held your wrist pretty tight, startling you once again. You locked eyes with him, you thought that he didn't want anything more. He let go of your wrist then looked left, then right, then back at you. -Now that you showed me how to dance I'd like to show you something I'm good at... He scratched the back of his neck while saying this, always looking somewhat detached but also sure of himself. You were surprised but appreciated his honesty, after all, if it meant having those eyes look at you one more time...Why not ? -Haha...I'll be the judge of that. » You put your index finger on his chest then turned back. That night was the night when you met Zoro around a dance in the city of passion. It was also the starting of a passionate love story between both of you. Your love came in waves, just like a bachata dance, sometimes you pulled and sometimes he did, it was sensual, a bit awkward and messy at times but it was for sure passionate and enjoyable. ************ Please feel free to give me feedback and don’t hesitate to drop in my ask box to get to know each other =) I’m new to this fandom and I appreciate everyone already. ^-^ <3 

[reidgraygubler]

play date (jennifer jareau/reader)

Title: Play Date

Request: no

Couple: Jennifer Jareau/Gender-Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warning:  allusions to parents death, mentions of a parent walking out, swearing (if any), single parenthood, tbh i don’t really know what else to tag. It’s just straight (or gay) fluff.

Word Count: 3,028

Summary: JJ brings her kids to the park where she meets Reader, who brought her kids to play. The pair’s kids become fast friends, as for Reader and JJ? That’s a whole different story.

A/N: this is my first time writing for jj. please enjoy it bc im big soft for her rn (i will also say that about luke too)... this is day four of my 7fics 7days event for 1.2k followers ! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support! 

also, thank you to @reidetic​ for proof reading this :)))

{***}{***}{***}

It was a normal day, right? I mean, that’s what I thought. My kids and I walked to the park after some chores, and after lunch. Nice fresh air, playing in the park, talking to other parents. Do people actually do that? Talking to other parents in the park? It’s been a while since I’ve actually gone to the park with my kids… 

"Make sure you’re safe. And, if you need me, I’ll be sitting here," I pointed to the bench that held my backpack. My daughter looked up at me and nodded before running off. My son on the other hand was a little bit more apprehensive of leaving my side to go play. Part of me wondered if it had to do with all the other kids running around, playing with one another. 

"What’s up, Buddy? Didn’t you want to come to the park?" I looked at him as I squatted to his height. He looked up at me and shrugged, not really telling me what was wrong. "Oh, c’mon, we’ve been to this park before." I sighed and looked at him while I gently ruffled his hair.

"Your sister wants to play with you, go on." I looked towards the park where my daughter was currently playing. It was a relief seeing her playing with the other kids, not by herself. But she was always quick to make new friends and play with new people. So it wasn’t that big of a surprise. 

"Your son can play with my boys if he wants," a woman looked at me with a smile. I looked away from my child and towards a blonde woman who had two boys standing beside her. They looked to be about my son's age. 

"You wanna play with them?" I looked back at my boy, resting a hand on his shoulder. I watched as he looked over at the two new boys, his little eyebrows furrowed together as his lips pouted out a bit. "C’mon they won’t bite."

"Well, Michael might…" the woman laughed as she looked between me and my boy. I looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "They like playing superheroes," she was quick to add, clearly realizing her mistake. 

"You love superheroes! You could be X-Men!" I clapped my hands together. My son looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows and shook his head. Over by the blonde woman I could hear her boys talking about something. I looked over at the three and raised an eyebrow. "Did I say something wrong?" I looked back at my son. He just looked at me, his eyes just staring at me like I did, indeed, say something wrong. 

"How about," the woman spoke, looking between my boy and I, and then down at her boys, "You three go play superheroes, and when you’re all done, come back to us," she folded her arms over her chest as she looked down at the 3 boys. My son looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow, silently asking if I was totally fine with him going with 2 strangers.

"It’s okay, go on. I’ll be here. Have fun," I winked at him before standing upright myself. He looked over at the two other boys before running off with them. 

"That was easier than I thought it would be," I laughed as I moved my backpack to the ground, before I sat on the bench. 

"They love making new friends. But they can be a little… shy," she laughed as she stepped closer to the bench, "I would do anything for them," she smiled and nodded.

"Please, you can sit beside me." I chuckled as I gestured towards the empty space beside me.

"Jennifer… Jennifer Jareau," she smiled at me as she sat down beside each other on the park bench. I looked at her and nodded. "But you can call me JJ,"

"It’s nice meeting you, JJ," I smiled before giving her my name, "How old are your boys?" I looked over at the playground and spotted our boys playing together. It didn’t look like they were playing superheroes like JJ and I had both thought. It looked like they were playing pirates or something else. 

"Henry is 9 and Michael just turned 6," JJ smiled at me as I looked back at her. "What about yours? How old is he?" she asked, looking out at all the kids. 

"He just turned 5 a few months ago. And my daughter is 10," I smiled and nodded. I looked back out at the playground, looking for my daughter. She was by the slide, talking with one of the other girls. 

"Oh, and you have a daughter?" JJ asked as she followed my gaze to the girl in question. "Well, they both look just like you."

"Well, they definitely don’t have my  eyes and nose," I laughed and shook my head. JJ looked back at me with a cocked eyebrow. "And I swear my little boy has their personality too." 

"He certainly is adorable," JJ laughed as she looked around at the playground. She laughed once she looked at our boys. I was impressed that my son was actually playing instead of just sitting to the side by himself. To be honest, I don’t remember the last time he played with other kids his age. It was a nice change to see for him. He looked like he was having fun, and that’s all that mattered.

"My little king," I laughed lightly as I looked back at JJ. I noticed she was looking between me and our kids. "Do you come to this park often?" 

"Not as often as I’d like. Work can get busy, and then school gets busy," I relaxed my body as I sat back more on the bench.

"Amen to that," JJ raised her eyebrows as she spoke. Her smile was genuine, and I enjoyed looking at it. It gave me a certain joy I hadn’t had in a while. It made me smile. 

"What is it you do for a living? Surely it can’t be too bad," I laughed as I turned to face her more. She copied my movement and faced me too.

"I… I actually work for the FBI," she kept her voice low so no one around could hear our conversation. I looked at her with wide eyes. And suddenly every little bad thing I’ve ever done came to my mind. The one time I ran a red light because I didn’t want to be late. Or, the one time I stole a chocolate bar when I was a teenager. Or, when I cut someone off on the freeway.

"The-the FBI… Great," I nodded as I looked down at my hands. "Beats my media manager job," I laughed again as I looked up at her.

"Don’t worry. Media manager sounds like a great job," JJ smiled at me, reaching over to hold my hand. I looked at her and nodded.

"FBI sounds even cooler. I bet it’s terrifying," I swallowed roughly as I looked at her.

"Sometimes it can be. It’s the thrill of the chase that keeps me going." Her laughter was like cotton candy: sweet and light and fluffy. I couldn’t help but smile again. 

"I would have guessed it was the boys that kept you going. But, I supposed the FBI does do that to someone," I looked down at her hand, which was still holding mine. I could feel my heart rate pick up slightly as I looked down at our hands. I wonder if she knew she was still holding mine. 

"Yeah, I suppose I do have to try to keep up with those boys," she laughed, again, before looking over at our kids. I furrowed my eyebrows before nodding slowly. 

"Surely their dad must be a load of help, while you’re at work," I asked about her husband/partner without actually asking about him. She looked back at me and cringed slightly. "Oh… I’m so sorry," I whispered before dropping my gaze from her face.

"It’s okay. Really, it's fine,"  she pulled her hand from mine and waved it off. Part of me sensed that she didn't want to talk about it. And, that was okay. 

If it was the same situation as me, if they just walked out? Or if he was ever a part of his kids lives… Did he die? And, if so how? Was he a police officer who got killed on duty? Or was he incredibly sick? It was a bit of a touchy subject. That was until she asked...

"What happened to their…” she started as she looked over at me. “If you don’t mind me asking?" JJ looked at me. And I could feel her big blue doe eyes starting into my spoiler soul. I looked at her and shrugged.

"Oh, uh, not in their lives anymore," I sighed before looking towards the playground, "It was just after our son was born too..." I shrugged, leaving my statement as vague as possible so I wouldn’t have to explain that we were left for another person.

"Oh goodness, I’m sorry," she looked at me, gently resting a hand on my lap. I looked down at her hand and felt my heart rate spike again. 

I think she was able to figure out what happened without me saying anything about him. I mean, I figured out what happened to her husband. If I didn't have to explain what happened, then I think that would be best….

"Anyways, I've been a single parent ever since," I smiled as I looked over at her, “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Those two are my world,” I locked eyes with her. 

“I can agree. Michael and Henry… I’d be lost without them,” she smiled at me as she spoke. With that, we both fell into an odd and slightly uncomfortable silence. We both just turned and looked at our kids playing with each other. I wish it wasn’t so awkward…. 

“So, the… FBI?” I started as I turned back to face her. 

“The FBI,” she laughed and nodded, “I work in the BAU,” she looked over at me.

“What would that be, exactly?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh! Yeah! Right, I forget that people don’t know about all the different sections within the actual FBI,” JJ laughed again, and I couldn’t help but let my heart swell again. “So, there’s a bunch of different branches in the FBI, right. I work in the BAU, which is the Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, looking at me like I already knew what that was. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at her.

“Okay, so… What do you do?” 

“Essentially, we read the behaviors of criminals… Like, serial killers, kidnappers… Stuff like that.”

“Like, Ted Bundy?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Yeah! Kinda. We’ve been all over the country, solving cases, some unsolved ones. It’s a wild world we live in,” JJ swallowed roughly as she looked down at the bench.

“Do you know how many cases you’ve solved? Must be a lot,” I asked, feeling a certain excitement take over. I felt a little embarrassed by the excitement I felt. JJ could sense that too. But I could see how happy she got with my joy. 

“Too many to count, honestly. I’ve been on the team for… 15 years,” JJ’s tone was mildly confused. Like, she wasn’t too sure. 

“Well, if you’ve been in that line of work for nearly two decades, it’s okay if you don’t remember,” I laughed as I reached over and rested my hand on her leg. It was her turn to blush up at my touch. “Media manager isn’t anything cool. Not like travelling the country like an FBI Agent. That’s super cool,” I looked up at her. 

“It is till it keeps you away from home for long periods of time,” she frowned as she looked down at where my hand was resting on her leg. I returned the frown as I retracted my hand.

“I understand being away from home for a while. Although, I think I only go on work trips every six months,” I laughed, trying to cheer her up a bit. 

“Anyways, enough about work,” JJ laughed as she looked back at me. 

I was more than happy when we fell into a comfortable conversation. Better than before, when we fell into the complete opposite, uncomfortable silence. The conversations moved so swiftly from hobbies, to when our kids were younger, to what we do in our free time. Although, our conversations were cut short by a cry from a little boy in the playground.

I instantly shot up to my feet, looking around the playground for my son. JJ was instantly on her feet too, looking for her sons too. The second I saw my son on the ground, in tears and holding his knee close to his body. I sprinted across the playground and right to him.

“Hey, hey, baby,” I knelt to the ground to help him, “It’s okay,” I whispered as I brushed the tears off his face.

“He… He just fell off the playground,” one of JJ’s sons appeared by me. I looked over at him and nodded with an exaggerated pout. 

“That’s okay! Accidents happen!” I looked back down at my son before picking him up and resting him on my hip. He sniffled his nose before pressing his face into my shoulder. “Ohh, is it time to go home?” I frowned as I walked back over to JJ and the bench. 

“Oh no! Did we have a fall?” JJ looked at me as I got closer to her. I frowned and nodded. “I have a first aid kit in the van if you need." She watched as I sat back down. She sat beside me and looked at my son. “Oh, that looks like a rough owie,” she looked at the scrape on his knees.

“You should see his hands,” I looked back at her. JJ looked back at me before standing up. 

“I’ll be right back,” she rested a hand on my son’s head and then mine before leaving us for a moment. 

“Should we go home and take a nap?” I asked, resting my hand on his back. He took a shaky breath and nodded before pressing his head into body. I looked up just as JJ returned with a small first aid kit and a stuffed animal.

“I have X-Men and Batman band aids,” JJ whispered as she sat back down beside me. I turned my son around so he was facing JJ. “Do you want… Wolverine or Batman?” She looked at him with a small smile on her lips. 

“B-batman,” he whispered, looking cautiously at JJ. I watched as she pulled out a wipe, ointment and some Batman band aids. My son looked up at me, tears still fresh in his eyes. 

“This might sting… Do you want to hold Arlo? He’s Michael’s dinosaur,” JJ looked at my son as she offered the bright blue and yellow stuffed animal. I looked down at him as he held out his hands to take the dinosaur from JJ’s hands. 

“You can be a big boy, for JJ?” I asked, brushing more tears off his cheeks. He looked up at me and nodded. I looked back at JJ and nodded lightly so she would just hurry and clean his injuries. 

“Owie,” he cried as he began squirming around. I held him close as JJ tried to be quick. 

“Look! Look! I’m all done!” she lifted her hands to show him that she was truly finished. “You got some pretty cool Batman’s band aids on your knees now,” she pointed at his knees, causing him to look down at them.

“What do you say to JJ,” I whispered, looking at my son’s face. She looked at me, then down at the boy on my knee with a smile.

“Thanks, JJ,” he mumbled before turning to hide into my body. JJ laughed, and looked back at me. 

“You’re welcome, Buddy,” she looked down at him again. 

“And, on that note… I should probably collect my other kid and go home. It’s nap time,” I looked at JJ as I handed her the stuffed Dinosaur. I really didn’t want to bid farewell to her. But, it was time to go. Time had flown by quickly, it was well past nap time and almost dinner time.

“I agree,” JJ frowned as she stood up. I sighed as I stood up beside her. We both called for our kids, waiting for them to run over to us. “Oh, we should exchange numbers… It was nice talking with you, and it’s nice to have friends outside of work,” she laughed as she turned to me again. I smiled and nodded before pulling out my phone.

"We’ll have to set up another playdate soon. I’m sure they all had fun together," I smiled, looking down at my kid. JJ looked at her kids, then over at mine, "Now that we’ve exchanged numbers and all. How would you guys feel about that?" I couldn’t help but let the smile grow across my lips. My cheeks started to hurt a little bit from how happy I was feeling. I honestly don’t remember the last time I was this happy.

"I think that’s a great idea," JJ smiled before looking back at me. I looked back at her and nodded. "And, maybe we can… have a date our… ourselves?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly, "Only if you want! I won’t press-"

"That would be… nice," I smiled and nodded, "I’ll call you?" 

"Sounds good! Have a nice night you three," JJ smiled at each of us before corralling her kids towards her van. 

"Who was that?" My daughter looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled as I watched JJ drive off.

"A new friend," I answered, looking down at her with a smile. 

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[in-tua-deep]

Prompt idea that I sincerely don't know anywhere else to put out, but what if, one mother of the seven like... delayed giving up the baby idk why, but like, in the end the child goes to the academy, but like... they know the world outside this mansion full of all sorts of abuse and violence, and so is trying to bring good sense and awareness to all of other children somehow, even though like... you don't know very much or correctly the things in general, but is trying anyway because yeah

okay okay i will bite

it's gonna be Five bc u know how I roll by now and you didn't specify a child, so this is a non-twin world uwu

I see some people naming him Fievel so we're gonna have to go with that, nicknamed Five by the other kids who thought it was absolutely hilarious to ask "which one?" whenever Reginald snaps “Five!”

Though officially, of course, Five is number seven.

So Fievel is born in a park to a mother who was never prepared to have achild, but held him in the hospital and looked into the eyes of a man offering her money for her newborn and she says - no. 

Because she’s poor, yes, and she’s working two jobs to make ends meet, and this man might be able to provide for her child but - she doesn’t like the fact that he offered her money. As though he could place a price on a human life.

(His stupid mustache might have played a role as well. Bastard.)

So she keeps little Fievel, and it’s hard. It’s so hard. Babies are expensive, and she was barely making enough as it was, but her best friend works from home and offers to take him sometimes during the day instead of a more expensive daycare. Some of her other friends ask around relatives and friends and hunt through garage sales until she has a passable amount of baby items.

It would be easier if Fievel wasn’t such a precocious child. He’s curious and into everything, a loud baby that demands attention. 

“C’mon Fi,” She begs her three-year-old son from where she’s draped across the sofa. Aren’t kids supposed to sleep a lot? Why did she end up with the one kid in the world who is on the go twenty four seven? “Can we please take a nap?”

“No.” Fievel says with a mulish look in his eyes and he shoves a book towards her face and almost takes her eye out with a corner of it, “Wead to me.”

And she sighs, and she’s so tired, but she hauls herself up and pats the sofa next to her and her little boy beams at her with such - such love that it almost takes her breath away. “Dogger, again? How many times have we read this?”

Fievel kicks at her with his little soft foot, and she catches it in a hand and smiles and she drops the book in her lap to bring her other hard over to dust feather light fingertips against her baby’s sides.

He’s terribly ticklish and giggles even as he shrieks “NO” loud enough that their neighbors will probably complain to her about it again. But in that moment she doesn’t care as she brings her head down to blow raspberries on her son’s stomach and make him laugh.

She loves him so much. 

(But she never has any time. Her friendships are more distant now, because she’s either at work or spending time with her son. She’s always exhausted because she works such long hours and Fievel keeps her awake when she’s a home. She doesn’t blame him, he didn’t ask to be born into the world any more than she asked for him, really. But it’s hard.)

Fievel is a curious child. She takes him to children’s museums and zoos on the discount days and watches him run around with seemingly endless energy. She has to keep a careful eye on him otherwise he will disappear, get distracted and wander off no matter how many times she’s tried to tell him to never do so.

Then he turns four.

Her baby is so smart. And he’s restless. And even though the place she works has a daycare through them, the people there are one incident away from banning Fievel. She thinks that’s dumb, considering they’re the ones that didn’t watch Fievel closely enough and lost him almost four times in recent months. 

So she signs him up for preschool.

She gets him a brand new outfit for the day, fussing over him until he’s all squirmy and pouty and slapping her hands away with all the grump that a four-year-old can muster. 

She sends him off to daycare with ruffled hair and a wide smile and tries not to worry too much.

She’s at work when she gets a call from the school informing her that they’ve lost her son. She hurriedly lets her boss know and sweeps out of work without a backwards glance, showing up at the school just as her phone rings again and a flustered individual informs her that they’ve located him.

“I have no idea how he got out.” The frazzled teacher looks close to tears when she meets with the poor woman, giving Fievel a fierce look that promises that they will be having a talk about this. 

“I din’t do anything.” Fievel pipes up mulishly, “I didn’t go nowhere, the class did.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and faces the teacher apologetically. After a pointed comment from a friend, she’s been vaguely looking into ADHD since her kid is like this, “I’ll have a talk with him.”

“I’ll - I’ll make sure to keep a better eye on him.” The woman looks floored that she isn’t tearing strips out of the school administration for losing her toddler. Actually when it’s phrased like that she probably should be more pissed off. But she also knows her kid and what a handful her is.

So she takes him home and sits him down.

“This can’t happen again, Fi.” She tells him, and he’s got his little arms crossed and he’s pouting with his entire body. “I mean it. I had to leave work, and you know I have to work.”

“You don’t hafta.” Fievel says harshly, “What about me?”

She sits on the couch next to him, heart heavy, “Baby, you know I have to work so that we can have things and go places.”

Her son scrabbles up on his knees and puts his hand on her arms and gives her big eyes, “I don’t need lotsa toys. An’ we don’t hafta go to the zoo.”

“Oh baby,” She pulls him into her arms and lets him snuggle into her, “I gotta work. And you gotta go to school and be good. Okay? You can’t be leaving the classroom again.”

“I din’t mean to.” Fievel sniffles, and she hugs him just a little tighter as the tears start to flow.

“It’s okay.” She murmurs into his hair, “I got you.”

To his credit, Fievel does his best. He still manages to leave the classroom somehow, seemingly whenever the teacher is looking away. No one seems to know how he does it. Emma who sits next to him exclaims that he just vanished like he went BAM and wasn’t there all of a sudden!

(Oh, the imagination of four-year-olds, the teacher thinks to herself.)

But whenever he does he seems to come back within fifteen to thirty minutes. Sometimes the teacher doesn’t even notice he’s gone before he’s knocking on the (locked) classroom door to be let back in. They don’t call his mother about the incidents anymore and the teachers nickname him Houdini with a sort of despair. 

Fievel is four-and-a-half when he’s taking a walk with his mother down to the park. He’s got his little rainboots on because he always wades into the pond and he likes the slosh of the water on his feet when it goes over the top, and his little duck shirt. He’s making loud quacking noises which don’t actually sound anything like a duck but when he looks at her for approval she nods with a smile.

They’re crossing the road at the crosswalk, holding hands because they always do, when the car comes careening around the corner.

She can’t react in time, eyes widening and she’s hollering and she moves to push her son and she only has eyes for him as she places her body between him and the car and - 

She watches his eyes go wide and afraid and she 

watches

him

disappear

and then the car clips her and she’s sent sprawling and that’s the last thing she remembers.

She wakes up in the hospital hours later with a concussion, a broken arm, several broken ribs, and a lots of scrapes. She’s lucky, they tell her. She demands to know where her son is. 

Hours later, when she’s worked herself up into a right tizzy, her son sprints into the room followed shortly by some very harried looking cops and she has to haul him into the bed so that he doesn’t hurt himself getting up.

“Gentle, gentle.” She warms him, wincing when he bangs a knee into her bad ribs, “I’m a little tender at the moment, baby.”

“You got hurt!” Fievel yells at the tops of his lungs and then immediately bursts into loud and terrified tears. So she ignores her bad ribs and messed up arm and cradles him close to her making shushing noises and stroking his back until he’s cried himself out and drops off right there in the hospital bed.

She gets out of the hospital with a cast and a bill she can’t afford right now and she sits Fievel down on the couch.

She wants to write off the fact that her son literally vanished before her eyes to the concussion. But - she thinks about a locked preschool classroom and a son that has a tendency to vanish when she takes her eyes off of him and -

It makes too much sense.

“Baby.” She asks, “Can you teleport?”

“What’s tell-ee-port?” Fievel asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Do you find yourself in other places without getting up and going to them?”

“Yeah.” Fievel states it so easily, like she’s dumb. “I told you so.”

She pressed her fingers to her face, “Can you do it now?”

Fievel frowns and then scrunches up his face real hard and then -

He’s gone. And then he’s opening his bedroom door and scurrying back out. He runs over and tugs at her pants eagerly, “I did it! Did I do good?”

She crouches down and ruffles his hair even though it kills her ribs, because she can’t pick him up with a broken arm. “Yeah baby,” She praises him, mind moving at an hour a minute, “You did good.”

That night she lays in her bed and watches Fievel’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps. He sprawls out like a starfish but sometimes in the night always buries himself into her side like a tick. She’s put a pillow in between them to try and spare her poor ribs, but she has doubts it will work.

Her son can fucking teleport.

That’s when she cries. Because she loves her son, but he’s a handful. She didn’t even notice. She didn’t notice that he son has a superpower. Doesn’t that make her the worst mother in the world?

Crying is a terrible idea. Her ribs are painful enough that she can’t sleep. She needs to ration her pain medication because they really can’t afford it. 

How is she supposed to handle this? How is she supposed to raise a child that can vanish without a second thought? Her bright beautiful boy who loves feeding the ducks and being pushed on the swings and playing unfathomable games with his friend Emma that she can’t even begin to understand the plot of.

(She’s almost certain one of them is supposed to be a cheetah for some reason? Or a lion? There’s a lot of running involved in the game, and hiding.)

It’s a few months later when her arm is healed and her ribs are better and Fievel is turning five when everything comes crashing down. Because she doesn’t get a call from the school. She gets a call from the police.

Apparently Fievel managed to get out of the school far enough away that he got lost. He admits tearfully to her that he’s been getting further and further away when he ‘jumps’ - and it’s not his fault. He tries not to jump. But it happens whether he wants it to or not and if he keeps getting further and further away then -

She thinks of a car and a road and putting her body between death and her son. And she thinks about the fact that when he jumps, she isn’t there.

Look. She’s not stupid. She always knew that her kid wasn’t exactly a normal child.

(Hello. He’s practically a miracle. She wasn’t exactly a virgin but that doesn’t really matter when she was very suddenly nine months pregnant where she hadn’t been before.)

So she reckons that the powers have something to do with that. And who does she know that definitely has a child who was also one of the miracle babies?

(He’d mentioned he’d already acquired like, what, four kids when he came to see her. As though that was supposed to make her want to give up her kid even more.)

So she requests some vacation days (that she can’t afford) and she pulls Fievel out of preschool for a week (it’s preschool it’s not that important) and they fly over to a city where she can hopefully get some answers.

(Fievel spends the whole flight with his face pressed to the window and his plane toy clutched tightly in one hand and his stuffed dog in the other as he enthusiastically makes whooshing noises.)

And she goes up the the big mansion thing and knocks and goes inside where she smiles at Fievel and tells him to go play with the other children while she talks to Mr. Hargreeves, thank you baby.

As she clenches her hands into fists and listens to Sir Reginald Hargreeves condescend to her about her ability as a mother, Fievel enthusiastically bounces over to the kids his age who stare at him like they’ve never seen anything like him before in their life.

(“I’m Fievel!” He introduces himself loudly, “And this is Doggy! My mama is here to speak to your dad.”

“Uh. I’m Six.” A bewildered little girl says back.

Fievel blinks, “Oh! I just turned five.”

The girl giggles, “No! No I mean my name’s Six. but I’m five-years-old as well.”

“That’s a funny name.” Fievel says.

“Nuh uh.” The girl refutes, “Your name is weird. See, ‘cause we’re all numbers ‘n you’re not.”

And he’s introduced to them all. One is tall and awkward looks. Two hides behind the others a little bit. Three has her hands on her hips and she looks at him, but softens when he tells her that he likes her hair. Four is a skinny wisp of a kid, with big wide eyes and no sense of personal space. Five sticks pretty close to Four. And Six, of course, is the one who talked to him first which obviously means that they’re temporary best friends.

Temporary, because of course Emma is his best friend. ‘Cause she’s in his class and they sit near each other and play together with each other first.)

And his mother comes out to Fievel bossing the others around and them going with it, all with bewildered little expressions on their faces. Fievel is balancing on the back of the sofa next to a little girl who is holding Doggy, possibly in the middle of an evil villain speech? The little girl is solemnly petting Doggy like she’s a Bond villain at the very least.

It makes her smile, just a little bit. 

“Fievel, baby, can you come here for a second?” She asks, and her son beams at him and vanishes from his seat over to by her leg where he pulls on her leg so that she’ll sweep him up into her arms. 

(The children gape at him, all wide eyes and staring between them and their father like they’re shocked. And they probably are. Reginald has informed her that none of them can teleport, but they do have a variety of weird powers between them.)

“You know that you’re getting big.” She says, and she tries not to cry, “And you’re not going to be in preschool soon enough.”

“Yeah!” He enthuses, “Gonna learn real stuff!”

And that’s just like her son. Voraciously hungry for knowledge. 

“Well, this is a school for very special people.” She tells him, and watches his eyes go big and round, “People who... can teleport, for example.”

Fievel considers that. And then twists around to look at the other children, “You can teleport?” He demands loudly, like it’s a betrayal of the highest form that they’ve been friends for an hour and this hasn’t been brought up. And maybe it is. She doesn’t claim to understand the intricacies of children’s hierarchy.

“Uh uh!” A little boy exclaims, frowning. “I can just throw stuff real good.”

“I’m strong.” Another little boy offers. And then proceeds to demonstrate this by picking up half the couch and sending the little girl careening onto the floor with a shout, but she gets up and dusts herself off easily enough.

“Okay.” Fievel says brightly, appeased by this somehow as he twists back to his mother expectantly. 

“Okay.” She says, her mouth dry. “Well. This is a special school for special kids. It’s, uh. It’s a boarding school.”

“What’s that?”

“It means you stay here.” She tells him. “I’ll - I’ll come and see you when I can. And you can call me whenever you want. But you have to stay here.”

“Like a sleepover?” Fievel asks, scrunching his face up in confusion.

“A little bit.” Her smile feels weak and forced and she can’t even see it. “Like a lot of sleepovers all in a row. And when you wake up, you don’t need to go anywhere because you live at the school.”

“Uh uh. I live at home.”

“Baby...” She cards her fingers through his hair. “I know it’s scary. I don’t want you to go either - ”

“Then I don’t gotta.” Fievel says, matter of fact as he starts wiggling to get down. She hefts him up in her arms.

“Baby. Fievel. Listen to me.” She says firmly, “I can’t take care of you well enough.”

He looks at her with betrayed eyes.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t control your powers.” She tells him softly, because she loves him and she doesn’t want to give him up but - “I can’t keep you safe, baby. And the teachers can’t keep you safe. But you’ll be safe here.”

“I don’t want to.” Fievel says, loudly. In the tone which says that a tantrum is approaching.

“You’ll learn how to control your powers!” She says in a forced cheery voice.

“I’m going to school with Emma.” Fievel insists in a slightly louder voice.

“You’re already getting along great with the other kids.” She insists.

“NO.” Fievel says, at maximum volume, and then he’s gone from her arms and she’s stumbling because it’s weird to go from holding something to nothing.

“He’ll show up in a bit.” She assures Sir Hargreeves, beyond tired. He’s been watching the whole interaction and she hopes he hasn’t gotten a negative impression of her son. 

If he’s able to handle six other super powered children then surely he can handle hers. No matter what he asks. No matter how difficult it was to sign over the rights to her child. He promised that she can visit Fievel on weekends whenever she wants, for however long her son wants to do so.

He’s going to keep her child safe. He won’t be running out onto streets. He’ll be able to train his powers, be able to control them, and maybe one day - 

(Maybe one day she’ll get her baby back. Safe and sound in her arms and able to control his powers so she doesn’t have to worry at all.)

So she leaves, and she leaves Fievel alone. And no matter how much he screams and cries and begs, no one lets him go back to his mother. He tries to run off, tries to jump away and follow after her - but a blond woman in pristine skirts comes and retrieves him. 

(He tries to jump away, but she keeps coming and finding him until he’s too tired to protest when she carries him back to his new (prison) school in her arms.)

Reginald tries to lock him in his room. He jumps out. Reginald tries to put him in time out. He jumps out. Reginald says he doesn’t get any dinner. Fievel jumps downstairs and raids the cupboards in the night.

It becomes an intense battle of wills between Sir Reginald Hargreeves and little Fievel.

Locks go on the cabinets, Fievel breaks them off by bashing them with one of the bookends he manages to snag. Reginald refuses to let Fievel play with the others. Fievel runs away again and has to be brought back by the blond lady. 

(“You can call me Grace if you’re so against mom.” she had told him demurely, after he yelled himself hoarse telling her that she’s not his mother that he has a mother and that she’s so much better in every way)

Then Reginald takes Doggy away, and Fievel begrudgingly has to fall in line lest he risk his stuffed companion. One of the only links to his real life he has.

(He doesn’t even get to keep his clothes. He has to wear the stiff awful uniform that the other kids wear. It’s the absolute worst. He looks stupid but no one listens to him.)

When his mother comes to visit, Fievel is sullen and still angry with her for abandoning him. He sulks and doesn’t talk to her a lot.

He grows like this. The Umbrella Academy turns six, and then others receive names after Fievel loudly points out that having numbers for names is weird and that no one should ever trust a man who names his kids numbers it’s lazy and stupid.

So One becomes Luther and Two becomes Diego and Three becomes Allison and Four becomes Klaus and Five becomes Ben and Six becomes Vanya.

And Fievel becomes Five.

They all think it’s really funny, that they all get names instead of numbers and Five gets a number instead of a name.

He’s six and Reginald sits him down and tells him in no uncertain terns that his mother essentially sold him. That Reginald controls him. And if Five isn’t a good boy then... well. Bad boys don’t get to visit their mothers.

(Reginald finds a far more... effective way of controlling Five than a stuffed animal.)

(Good boys also don’t talk to their mothers about their training. They smile and act happy and lie because they want to keep seeing her. They don’t tell her about how scary it is, how they desperately want to come home, how maybe their mother could take all the kids because they don’t even have mothers and it isn’t fair.)

So Five grows bigger, gets new uniform, clashes with Reginald as much as he dares, and settles in to life at the academy. He sprawls across Vanya’s floor and tries to remember all the story books he read with his mother.

(There’s only grown up books in the manor that they’re expected to read. And Five likes them, he loves to learn, but - he misses storytime. He misses the wonderful books about adventure and other worlds. He misses when he felt like he was going to go on an adventure because he had powers and was special!

He doesn’t wish he’s special anymore.)

Vanya asks him once why he hangs out with her, because she’s normal. Because she doesn’t have powers.

And Five looks at her and tells her that that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. He spend years surrounded by people without powers. He tells her about his best friend Emma, who definitely didn’t have powers. 

“I wish I had a best friend.” Vanya tells him, face sad and drawn and Five pulls her into the fiercest hug he can.

“You’re not my best friend,” He tells her, and she looks even sadder until he finishes it up with, “You’re my sister.”

“But you have a mother.” She says, sounding confused.

Five shrugs, “Doesn’t matter. Reginald is legally my dad, and he’s legally your dad, and so we share a dad. That makes us siblings.”

“Is a sibling better than a best friend?” Vanya asks after a long moment of silence.

Five doesn’t think so. He misses Emma. He misses his preschool. He misses his life, the life before the Academy. But Vanya looks so sad and pale that he hugs her again and says “Yeah, of course. We’re family.”

The others tolerate him in varied amounts. Luther thinks he’s dumb because he’s always mean to Reginald. Five thinks Luther is dumb, and he’s definitely right. Allison constantly bugs him for information about what she terms “the outside world” and Five has told her about birthday parties at least a dozen times and she still looks wistful and asks him to tell her about them again.

(They turn eight and Five produces a paper crown for his sister because she looked so wistful when he described Emma’s birthday tiara. Allison wears it until Reginald snaps at her to get rid of it, but Five sees her tuck it in the waistband of her skirt rather than throw it away.)

When Reginald snaps at Diego for his stutter, Five snarls and snaps back, getting between the man and his new brother and yelling because he knows that’s not how you help kids! Yelling doesn’t help! His teacher said so! And his mama!

Diego is never particularly thankful for his interference, but Five doesn’t care. 

Five is nine and he jumps into the mausoleum with Klaus and holds his most fragile brother and snarls, threatens to run away. To take Klaus and just go, that they’d go to Five’s mother and she would take them away from Reginald and this place and - 

Klaus always buries himself into Five’s side with his hands over his ears until the morning when Five either jumps away or glares with furious eyes at Reginald even when he’s punished after.

He’s nine when he gets into a screaming match with Diego who says that Five isn’t one of them that he has his mother and if he had the chance he would abandon them in a heartbeat.

Reginald threatens to cut off his mother’s visits if he finds Five interfering with “Number Four’s training” one more time.

Five looks at Klaus, who is his brother. Who is frail and skinny and pale with dark bags underneath his eyes.

Reginald looks satisfied because Five has always backed down before when his mother is threatened. It’s his ultimate trump card.

Five is so very very tired of his mother being used against him. And he loves Klaus. And these kids, they are his siblings. (He tries not to think about the fact that next year he’ll have officially been here just as long as he was with his mother. He hates it.)

Reginald finds Five in the mausoleum with cobwebs in his hair and his brother against his side and a glare on his face and Reginald forbids his next visit with his mother.

Five keeps jumping into the mausoleum. Klaus looks at him with wonder in his eyes and Five pries up the floorboard that hides Doggy (because even after Reginald found a better way to threaten him, he remembers) and cries himself to sleep. 

“You chose us.” Ben states instead of asks, very quietly, when they’re studying together. 

“My mother can look after herself.” Five says stiffly, not taking his eyes off the page. “Klaus can’t.”

Ben doesn’t say anything more, but Five feels eyes on his back for a good long while after that.

When Five is ten, they debut for the first time. They go to the bank, and stop the robbers.

(“We can’t send Ben in,” Five insists, “They’ll die!”

“They’re robbers.” Luther scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re still people.” Five insists. “You definitely aren’t supposed to kill people. It’s a law.”

“Shut up, Five.” Diego says grouchily, “We just need to get this over with.”

“Dad’ll be pissed off if we let any of them escape.” Allison says, and the whole group goes quiet as they consider their father’s disappointed fury.

“I’ll go.” Ben mutters reluctantly, and Five tries to meet his eyes but the other boy slips into the vault before he can. The group stands silently as they listen to the screams and watch the blood splatter.

“This is wrong.” Five whispers.

“This is how it is.” Klaus whispers back, sounding defeated.

They don’t talk about it, after.)

Five smiles for the camera and lets Klaus lean on his shoulder and steals a thing of tissues from a reporter’s purse and uses them to wipe more of the blood from Ben’s face with a tight smile and the world goes on.

(He doesn’t know his mother watched. Doesn’t know the fury she flew into. Her son was supposed to be safe - he was supposed to be at a school. Why the fuck was he stopping a bank robbery like some kind of little child soldier?

She becomes a problem. And Reginald can be awfully practical about problems.)

Five is ten-and-a-half and he hasn’t seen his mother in a year and a half. And he’s tired and he’s rebellious so one day he sneaks out and finds a pay phone and the only reason he remembers his number is because his mother made him memorize it and quizzed him frequently.

(He’d gotten lost so often from wandering away and accidentally jumping. His rules were to approach either women with children or people who worked wherever and ask them to call her.)

Except the call can’t connect. Disconnected number. 

Five frowns, and end up doing some research which involves massive lies to the library, and then he has a picture of a newspaper obituary in his hands and a hole in his heart.

Car accident, the paper says.

Five crumbles it up, and then smoothes it out again because there’s a picture of his mother next to the article and Five doesn’t have any pictures of his mother. So he hides it under the floorboards next to Doggy and cries himself to sleep and then he gets up and does his training and doesn’t talk about it.

He doesn’t tell his siblings. Not even when Luther blows up and calls him a stuck up brat who can go cry to his mommy if he think it’s so bad here. Not even when Klaus jokes about running away with a cracking voice in the mausoleum, not really jokes at all. Not even when Vanya asked him for another of his mother’s stories and he started crying in the middle of them. He’d just told her it had been a hard day of training.

(Vanya never asks him questions if he mentions training. He feels bad about lying to her and using it as an excuse but...)

He waits for Reginald to tell him. He waits, because surely someone would tell him that his mother is dead. He’s her son. 

Reginald never tells him. He tells Five that he’s bad and still hasn’t earned back his visiting privileges. Five hates him so much. So so much. 

Five is twelve-years-old and he is sprawled across Vanya’s bed after a particularly brutal day of training. Reginald has been trying to overtrain Five the day before he puts Klaus in the mausoleum overnight so that Five will be too tired to jump in. It doesn’t work, but it’s an exhausting enough punishment. 

“I wish I didn’t have powers.” He tells Vanya.

“No you don’t.” Vanya says back fiercely, fists clenching in her blankets, “Not having powers sucks.”

Five tilts his head and looks at her, “No.” He says gently, “No one knew I had powers. And I was loved. I was so loved, Vanya.”

“Stop it.” Vanya says, face tight. “If you were so loved, why did she leave you here?”

And Five opens his mouth and nothing comes out, because it hurts. 

“You don’t wish you had powers, Vanya.” Five tells her finally, and there are tears in his eyes but he’s looking at the ceiling not at her so it doesn’t matter. “You wish you had a family. A proper family. Not this - this stupid academy. I hate it. I hate it here.”

“Don’t call it stupid.” Vanya says, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you have a family and we just - we just have the academy, okay? So don’t call it stupid.”

“We deserve better. We deserve a childhood.”

“We have a childhood.” Vanya scowls, “Just because it’s not as nice as yours was or whatever - ”

“This is my childhood, Vanya.” Five snarls, propping himself up to face her, “I know you all think I’m so spoiled and - and I’m not one of you or whatever, but I came here when I was five. My memories of before - Vanya they’re fading. I couldn’t pick Emma out of a crowd if I tried. I’ve been here for years longer than I was ever there, and it’s not fair.”

“You still have a mother - ”

“No I don’t.” Five cuts her off, his voice ice. Vanya’s eyes are wide, startled by his tone. “Vanya, look around you. When was the last time I saw my mother?”

Vanya’s lip wobbles as she realized she can’t remember.

“It’s been three years.” Five tells her, eyes hard and cold and angry, “She’s gone. I made a choice, and I chose you. I chose the academy. Because despite everything, I love you guys. You’re my siblings, even if sometimes you don’t act like it.”

“Five - ” Vanya tries.

“No.” Five cuts her off, hopping off the bed and shaking his head, “I’m going to - I’m going to go to my room. You get some more practice in or something. I think Pogo picked out this piece and you know what he’s like.”

He doesn’t let her get a word in before he jumps up to his room.

Five is twelve when he stands in front of Reginald and says “I’m not using my powers anymore.”

“You have an assignment.” Reginald says severely.

“No.” Five refuses politely, and his family watches with wide eyes from the sidelines. The only family he has left. “I’ve got control now. I’ve decided I’m going to be normal now.”

Reginald locks Klaus is the mausoleum early and watches with unimpressed eyes as Five picks the lock and strolls in. 

Reginald handcuffs Five to a rail. Five plucks a paperclip from his sock and picks those as well.

Reginald locks Five in a room from the outside and tells him that he’ll get dinner when he jumps out. 

Five opens the window and shimmies down the drainpipe and has to be picked up at Griddy’s where he’s charmed the owner out of a free doughnut and hot chocolate with a sob story about school bullies to explain his grubby appearance (the shimmy down the drainpipe hadn’t exactly been graceful. or clean.)

He locks Five in the basement in a weird room that’s soundproofed. Five tries to hunger strike but - it’s so quiet. He can hear the sound of his own heartbeat. He can’t stand it. It’s like the room was made specifically to torture him.

(He looks at the little bed in the room. The sheets were dusty. This room has been around for a very long time. He wonders who it’s for, Allison, perhaps? She’s always been fairly obedient, maybe this is the reason why.)

He jumps out on the second day, and doesn’t talk to anybody. Reginald is smug like the cat the got the canary, and Five hates it.

Then Five is messing around, and something slots into place, and he realizes - oh, he might be able to time travel. 

Once he figures it out, he’s desperate. He’ll save his siblings that way. He’ll take the to a time where Reginald can’t get them. They’ll be out of reach.

(maybe - maybe they can travel back in time. maybe he can save his mother -)

Five is thirteen-years-old when he time travels for the first time. When he runs out of the house like he’s done so very many times before, except he’s angry and frustrated and he’d tried to bait Reginald into telling him his mother’s dead again and he hadn’t and - 

Five jumps. It’s snowing. He did it. He jumps again, laughing. He jumps again - 

Ash.

He tries to jump, but his power fizzles out. He calls for his siblings. No one answers. He finds the academy - rubble.

So Five lives in the apocalypse. He tries to go home, he does. He buries his siblings as well as he can. He wanders around gathering food and textbooks. He picks up a mannequin and names it Dolores.

(He searches the rubble of the academy, but he can’t find Doggy or the picture of his mother. Either they were found and removed years ago, or they’re buried beneath too much rubble. Five doesn’t know.)

 He takes Dolores on a road trip. He tells her it’s to see if they can find any people, any survivors.

he arrives in a graveyard and traces his mother’s name with trembling fingers. this is the first time he’s been to visit her grave. this is the first time he’s seen her in four years.

So he survives. He grows up, desperately clinging to life by his fingernails. He does complex calculations, wondering what his mother would think of him now.

He meets the Handler. He becomes an assassin.

(he’s glad his mother is dead, so that she will never see what he has become.)

And then one day, he gets home. He falls into the courtyard, and looks at the faces of his grown up siblings and - 

(he’s so tired of losing people. he’s so tired of being taken away from his family.)

He hops to Griddy’s, he gets into a fight with assassins, he cuts a tracker from his arm, and he goes to Vanya’s apartment.

And he’s Five, but he’s also Fievel. And somewhere inside he’s still that same kid who loved his mother and wanted her to fix thing, who trusted her even though she didn’t have powers. His mother wasn’t ordinary, and he’s never seen Vanya as such.

So he asks her for her help.

(Later, she tells him that they hunted down his mother when they were fifteen, because they’d been absolutely convinced he’d just run away and gone back to herno matter how much Reginald insisted he was dead.

That’s when they found out about her death. Her date of death.

“I’m so sorry, Five.” Vanya says, tears in her eyes as the whole family shuffles and looks away.

And Five puts his hand on Vanya’s. “I knew, Van.”

Her head snaps up. Klaus blurts out a what in the background.

Five shrugs, “I’ve known since we were ten. It’s okay.”)

Five sends Vanya to investigate the eye. 

(He asks Klaus - “Have you - ”

“No.” Klaus says instantly, shaking his head. He knows what Five is asking. 

Five considers that answer, then shrugs. He’s not sure if it would be better or worse for his mother to be one of the ghosts that tormented Klaus. “After I - after, did dad get worse?”

“Yeah.” Klaus says simply, because it’s true.

Five hadn’t been there to jump into the mausoleum and try and shield his brother from invisible enemies. 

“I’m sorry.” Five says quietly.

“Me too.”)

Vanya comes back and the eye hasn’t been made yet. Five swears, loudly and at length.

And maybe in another world Five snaps at Klaus and denies Vanya and goes off on his own and ignores Allison but - 

In this one, Five was the only kid who not only didn’t care that Vanya was ‘ordinary’ but actively challenged her on it. Who told her in no uncertain terms that he was jealous of her. 

(It’s a very different book that comes out.)

In this world, Five shielded Klaus and challenged Reginald. He jumped into the mausoleum and hugged his brother and, most importantly, he chose Klaus over his mother. And Klaus knows that. Klaus has... a lot of loyalty to Five, and even though he’d though for a long time that Five abandoned him... he knows better now and he feels - he feels guilty for doubting his brother. That guilt may or may not manifest in being a bit clingy.

In this world, Allison thought Five was fascinating because he’d been in the real world. He’d been to real school. She remembers him telling her about his mother, about trips to the zoo and the museums and the birthday parties, about sleepovers and playdates and parks.

(She has a daughter, and she takes Claire to the children’s museums and to zoos. She tries her best for her daughter and hears Five’s voice telling stories in her ears. She does her best to be a good mother, she tries so hard.)

It’s a slightly more united family that stands against the apocalypse.

But there’s always something with them, isn’t there?

“Don’t you know?” The Handler says, with her perfect lipstick smile, “I don’t have to win, I just have to take you out of the game. Your weak spot has always been the same, hasn’t it?”

“You don’t have shit.” Five says, unimpressed. “My family is fine.”

“Are you so sure about that, Fievel?”

(Five already chose his siblings over his mother the first time. The choice is... much more difficult the second time.)

[heytherejulietx]

Stressed - Bughead

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN!

Read on AO3 here!

Notes - this fic is based on the absolutely AMAZING fanart done by @easyminds i saw the art and i just had to write something about it. it’s absolutely stunning and i love it so much, it’s adorable. i hope you really like the fic i’ve written based on it, i hope i did it justice!

Warnings - N/A.

Word count - 1.2k.

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As soon as he had opened the door she was in his arms, tucked underneath his chin as he held her tightly against himself. It was days like those, where he was constantly close to a breakdown of some sort, where he really appreciated Betty’s comfort. Even just being near her with nothing said helped him. Her soft touch, the sweet smell of her hair he got when hugging her, her soothing voice when she knew just what to say; she always knew how to help.

Jughead had needed it all day, when the stress from the Serpents was at a point where he almost crippled under the weight of it all. He needed a break from all of it, so he needed Betty.

But once she’d pulled from the hug and he got to look at her he frowned, his hand lifting to her cheek. She looked just as worn down as he did; red eyes from crying, eyebrows scrunched downwards, shoulders slumped. He’d forget about his problems in a second if Betty needed him there for her; seeing her in such a state made him feel worse that she was suffering.

Betty’s eyes closed as his hand cupped her cheek and she sighed, leaning into it as his lips pressed to her forehead.

“What’s wrong, love?” Jughead mumbled against her forehead, followed by another soft kiss before he pulled back to look at her.

“I need to stay here tonight,” Betty whispered with a frown - at that moment Jughead noticed the backpack she carried over her shoulders. “My mom is going to kill me. I need a break from her, Jug.” She whispered, and Jughead frowned when it almost looked like she would start crying.

Betty’s mom had always worried him. She put too much pressure on Betty, too much pressure to be perfect. And he knew that Betty didn’t like the word, but she already was perfect to him. He could never see why Alice didn’t know that already.

“Of course you can stay, I’m sorry about your mom.” Jughead pulled her into another hug and gently squeezed her, pulling her inside gently so he could close the door of his trailer behind her.

“I missed you today,” Betty mumbled into his hoodie, where she’d buried her head against his shoulder. “Did you have a good day?”

Jughead almost laughed at the question, because he’d had quite the opposite really. It seemed neither of them had much luck that day. “Not really, no. I think I needed you here tonight just as much as you needed it, too.” He whispered, holding her even tighter to himself for a moment before he released her from his hold.

“Oh, I’m sorry Jug.” Betty said softly, meeting his gaze as she let her fingertips brush along his jawline.

“S’okay, you’re here now,” Jughead muttered, noticing her lips curve upwards lightly at his words as she nodded her head in response. “Do you want to watch a movie? My dad’s out still.”

“Yeah, I’m not really too tired yet.” Betty nodded, even though she looked exhausted, and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him briefly before she pulled away and dropped her backpack by the end of the couch.

Jughead sat on the couch and leaned back with a groan as Betty curled up to his side, her arms tightening around his waist as he browsed Netflix for a moment. He supposed she probably wasn’t in the mood for a horror movie at that moment, and he assumed she was still tired despite what she said, so after a minute or so of looking he put on the Breakfast Club - a movie they had both seen hundreds of times together - and moved both arms around Betty as he put the TV controller down again.

He felt her head drop against his shoulder, and turned to press his lips to her hairline. He always felt terrible when Betty had a bad day, he hated that she was suffering and he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially when it was her mother. Neither of them had luck in that department, he supposed. Jughead was just grateful that FP had taken such a liking to Betty. During the time that Betty was staying at the trailer, they had gotten really close, close enough that FP pretty much treated her as his own, which Jughead was grateful for. FP would happily take her in any time she needed, and he knew that Betty took comfort in knowing that she had another parental figure that she could look towards.

As the movie went on, Betty subtly but surely relaxed against him. Her stiff posture evened out until she was almost completely relaxed. A few times he’d glanced down at her and her eyes were fighting to close, but he didn’t comment on it or offer to move. There in that moment, with her in his arms, everything was okay. He didn’t want to break it and move them.

“I love you.” Betty mumbled quietly sometime into the movie, and had leaned up to press her lips to his cheek then to his lips for a few moments.

“I love you too.” He whispered and smiled softly as she pulled away, his palm rubbing against her back.

Betty smiled back and kissed him again, before she pulled away and shifted so she was laying across the couch with her head in his lap, her arm almost hugging his lag. He couldn’t help but smile softly as he watched her, continuing the movement of his palm rubbing over her back as she stretched out comfortably. Jughead wasn’t even paying attention to the movie anymore as he watched her in such utter adoration, utterly thankful that he got lucky enough to be with someone as amazing as Betty Cooper. He loved her so much that it was almost impossible. And at times like that where they needed each other the most, he was always so thankful that she was there. Comforting him without even realising she was doing it.

Jughead felt her grip loosen on his leg and he glanced down at her again, his gaze softening when he saw that her eyes were closed. He could understand how tiring it was to be stressed all day, and whenever Betty got calm enough she was easy to fall asleep. He didn’t want to wake her by moving, knowing that she’d appreciate the nap, so he carefully reached over to the back of the sofa and pulled the blanket off of it to cover Betty. She didn’t wake, only shifted slightly so she was hugging his leg again.

Jughead leaned back further into the couch as he rubbed her back underneath the blanket, smiling fondly as he watched her. If he needed to, he’d stay there forever with her just so she would be happy and calm. He’d feel all of the stress and negative feelings for her if he could, just so she would never have to suffer. She didn’t deserve it, she was too pure for the world; she deserved so much more than horrible parents and murders to deal with.

If he could, he’d run away with her just so she could be happy. Their own happily ever after. She deserved it more than anybody else.

[babuis]

Who Needs Memories? [Chilumi] - 1

Genre: Long Fic

Word Count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Lumine is not naive. Through her thousands of years living, she should know better. Should have learned better. She knew better then to trust someone who threw her insecurities into her face. So why was she here, standing in the room of the person who betrayed her while wanting to give him another chance?

Or

Events from before the Golden House between Childe and Lumine to the unreleased future.

A/n: I’m deciding on whether I want to pursue this as a long fic in my google docs. Tbh I can really only write for Genshin when I’m in this strange, dreamy, longing mood where I wish to leave everything behind and enter the world of Genshin- it just feels so inviting and like home for some reason.

Pulled this out of my ass Bcs I’m in that mood rn. Sadness makes me poetic (but I’m not sad? Genshin gets me in a very dreamy mood)

So imma test it out by seeing how it’s received. Should I make this into a longer series?

Story starts before golden house.

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

Lumine couldn't go back to sleep. 

This wasn't a new development. Since arriving in Teyvat, she had fallen victim to many sleepless nights or sleeps that were interrupted by night terrors she couldn't quite remember until much later when it was no longer important. Sometimes when she did sleep, her dreams would be filled with fragments of memories from the thousands of years she lived with her brother from world to world before all of this that refused to leave her mind.

Tonight she had dreamed about the time when they weren't in a particular world, but rather the period in between where they simply existed in the clouds.

Lumine and Aether sat on a large cloud, staring into the expanse before them. They sat with their knees hugged to their chest, feeling the last rays of the sun brush over them before nightfall. 

"Hey Aether?'

"Hm?"

Lumine sighed as she lay lazily on her back. Her body sunk into the soft pillows of cloud ever so slightly and she stared up into the infinite abyss of the sky above their heads.

"Do you ever wonder what else is out there?' she questioned him, reaching her hand up, "We've been to so many worlds already. Will there be a point where we no longer learn new things?"

Aether scoffed lightly, turning his head to look at his twin, "We've been alive for thousands of years, have you yet to come to a world and not learn anything?"

"No," Lumine admitted, "But you said it yourself, we're so old already. What if one day..."

Aether sighed again, shifting to face his sister fully, "Don't worry about it. Worlds may be similar to each other. We may just arrive in them to fight a little, but there' always been subtle differences that make each special."

"Hmm," Lumine hummed, closing her eyes as a chill brushed over her body, "Do you think mom ever got bored?"

"Bored? She had twins."

Lumine chuckled lightly, "Yea, she did, didn't she?"

They didn't speak after that. Soon the vibrant colors of the sunset turned into the cool night sky and millions of stars twinkled around them, each representing a new world. Lumine shuddered slightly, wondering if her fears were silly. With so many worlds, surely there would be new things to see. A new purpose to have.

"We should go to that one next," Aether said, pointing to the brightest star to their left, "Burning up real bright."

Lumine nodded, shielding her eyes a bit from the light, "Sure is."

Aether lay down, settling beside her, "Go to sleep, Lumi," he said softly, "we got a new world ahead of that."

"Hmm," she hummed again, closing her eyes.

Soon, her brother's breathes turned steady as he fell asleep. She gave him one last peek before she too, succumbed to slumber. 

Even if they explored all the worlds there were and learned everything there was to know, she would be okay just as long as she had Aether by her side to navigate her life with her.

And then he was gone.

Lumine shuddered as the wind blew towards her from the water. It seemed to be particularly cold in Liyue that night on the harbor. She sat on the wooden dock, letting her slender legs hang over the edge. The stars shined above her, much like they had in her dream.

Except this time she was sitting on the hard dock instead of the fluffy clouds and she was alone.

Her hair tickled her cheek as she dejectedly thought about Aether. They had come to this world, the brightest one to their left, together, only to be separated. They had never separated before and the anxious heaviness that took permanent hold of her chest became heavier as she remembered her dream.

I miss you Aether.

This world had been shockingly new from the rest of the ones she had visited. With it's divisions between the archons and people, it seemed like this world was made up of multiple ones with a complexity that she kept getting dragged into.

It was something her past self would have marveled excitedly at- there was just so much to learn. But without Aether, without her rock through it all, it almost seemed meaningless. Her only purpose now, was to find him.

Perhaps this is what she got for wishing for a new purpose in life. If she could go back and take it all back, she would.

"Hey girlie, it's dangerous for you to be so lost in thought this late at night. A bad man could come and sweep you away."

Ah, Childe.

Lumine turned her head to see the blue eyes ginger standing behind her, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked down at her. She licked her lips, turning away from him.

"What do you want, Fatui?" she asked harshly, "If you push me in the water, I'll blast you all the way to the stone forest."

Childe raised his hands up in surrender, a throaty chuckle making its way out of his mouth, "No need to be so hostile, I thought we shared a more intimate relationship than that."

"I'm warning you," Lumine said again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Childe took a seat beside her, looking into the distance where she was, "I would never, girlie. I'm a bad man but I wouldn't push an unsuspecting lady into the water."

"Sure you wouldn't, Fatui," Lumine said with disdain.

"I wouldn't," he repeated, "What are you looking at? Actually, what are you doing up so late? It's well past your bed time."

Lumine snorted, "You're not older than me."

"I'll have you know I'm a young adult," Childe protested.

Lumine gave him a wry smile, "As am I."

"You don't look a day older 18," Childe hmphed, "Pray tell, Ojou-chan, how old are you really?"

Lumine finally glanced at the ginger who was staring at her with curious eyes, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually," he said, not looking away.

'You wouldn't even be able to fathom it if you tried,' Lumine thought to herself, 'nor is it safe for me to tell you.'

Childe stared at Lumine some more, refusing to be the first to look away. Her golden eyes burned with something he couldn't quite place, but were at the same time quite hardened. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyebrows were softly furrowed into a stern looking pout. 

'How cute,' he mused to himself, 'too bad you're just a pawn in Tsaritsa's game.'

"You don't trust me," he settled on saying, his mouth quirking to the side.

Lumine finally looked away, making Childe celebrate internally, 'ha! I win!'

"Why should I?" she muttered.

"I get it, La Signora gave you a bad impression," Childe said, "But like I said, I don't particularly like her either. I'm the black sheep of the Harbingers you know, we're not all like her."

Lumine didn't say anything. If she learned anything from her extensive existence, it was to not trust a man like Childe.

"Fine, then answer this for me since you're unwilling to share," Childe caved, "What are you doing up so late?"

Lumine shrugged, "It's not late. If I'm correct, it's a new day."

"Fine smart ass," Childe sassed her, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I guess I'm an early bird then," Lumine said vaguely, not wanting to mention her lack of sleep.

"Great answer."

The two sat in silence again, the breeze blowing even harder. Lumine shivered again at the wind's caress which prompted Childe to shrug off his jacket to give to the blonde. Lumine noticed and put her hand up to stop him hurriedly, not wanting to create even more debt to the Harbinger.

"You're cold," Childe insisted, "Take it."

Lumine frowned, "No, you're cold. You take it."

"Ojou-chan," he said, exasperated, "I'm from Snezhnaya, a bit of wind isn't going to kill me."

Lumine raised an eyebrow, "I use Anemo powers, a little bit of wind isn't going to kill me either."

"But it'll make you sick."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

She knew it wouldn't. It had been a very long time since Lumine had gotten sick, the last time being in a world with giant man eating beings. The only reason for her sickness, of course, wasn't her health, but the disgusting stench of dead bodies.

Lumine stubbornly stood up and started walking down the dock back towards the center of the town where she was staying. She was done with this conversation- done with him. However, Childe seemed to have other plans as he followed the petite girl down the paved road.

"Stop following me," came Lumine's cutting words, not even bothering to look back.

'Charming,' Childe thought as he ignored her words, "It's dangerous for a pretty girl to roam around the town in the dark."

Lumine simply rolled her eyes, coming to a halt in front of a random building, "I'm not in danger of the Milleleth anymore, and I'm sure I could handle some petty thieves if I did a dragon."

"Ah, that's right. I'm talking to the Hero of Mondstadt here," Child said teasingly, 'and the biggest pain in the ass to Tsaritsa.'

Lumine gave him an unimpressed look, "I suppose that's right, so as you can see, I can handle myself."

'If anything, you're the biggest threat in this town,' she thought distastfully.

"Alright then, Ojou-chan, I'm off-"

Before he could finish his goodbye, he was cut off by a large growl emitting from Lumine's stomach. For the first time that night, Lumine lost her composure and blushed a bright red and her body burned hotter than the sun despite the chilly morning air. Childe paused, blinking twice, before busting out into laughter that caused the girl to further lose composure.

'Damn this near mortal body!' Lumine cursed, 'I never had to eat this often before!'

"Hahaha!" he laughed heartily, clutching his sides, "Did you perhaps eat the dragon to defeat it?" he teased her.

Lumine growled, "Shut up," she said hotly.

"Say, why don't I take you and Paimon to get some food then?" Childe suggested, "I'm sure you're hungry and you wouldn't turn down free food when you lack Mora."

Lumine grumbled quietly to herself, knowing he was right. She had very little Mora left thanks to Paimon spending so much on food and she was admittedly hungry. Hunger was a foreign concept to her body up until recently, and she detested the very idea of it.

"Don't be stubborn Ojou-chan," Childe persisted, "I did afterall, save you from the Millelith didn't I?"

Lumine begrudgingly nodded her head, "Fine," she said quietly, "Let me get Paimon first."

And so they walked side by side to her inn- that he helped he book- to fetch Paimon and go eat. They walked leisurely, as if they weren't two people that were on drastically different sides. They walked as if they were acquaintances- as if they were friends to the unknowing eye.

Lumine knew she shouldn't. She should have stopped all interaction after that one time he helped her out by clearing her name. Shouldn't have accepted the help nor the Mora from him- no matter how broke she was. She could have found a way or slept on the outskirts of the town. She shouldn't be accepting his invitation to eat.

What was wrong with her?

Teyvat had proved to be full of surprises, her behavior being one of them. It had been months since she woke up from her slumber. When was the last time she had stayed in one place for so long? Fought off monsters for other people rather than the thrill of the fight?

It didn't matter, Lumine supposed. What mattered was finding her brother and what happened after that would be a future Lumine problem. What else was there to do after finding her brother? What was the purpose of her world hopping?

Lumine no longer remembered.

As they neared the inn where she left Paimon, she could hear the floating girl's shrill and angry voice scolding her for leaving. Paimon's voice only turned more sour when she saw the Fatui next to her.

"Lumine!" the pixie exclaimed, "You can't leave to go rendezvous with the enemy!"

Lumine  gave the little girl an unimpressed look, "I did no such thing, he's cashing in a favor."

"A favor?" Childe interrupted, "Considering I'm paying for your food, I'd say I'm doing a service and you know owe me a favor."

Paimon looked angry for a second, "Lumine! You can't just- wait, did Paimon just hear you say food?"

"Sure did little one," Childe grinned, "Come on, it's my treat."

And just like that, Paimon's anger disappeared at the promise of something warm to fill her stomach. Constellations materialized around her floating body as she followed the ginger to a restaurant he claimed that he knew 'they would just love.'

Lumine lingered at the steps of the inn, staring up into the sky that was now painted with the vibrant colors of the sunrise. 

What was the purpose of her life?

Lumine basked in the warmth of the sun and found comfort in the lack of visible stars in the sky.

Lumine didn't remember.

Perhaps she never knew.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Band of Brothers-

Cute/charming things they say when they walk into a room and see you/you walk into a room and they see you:

Babe: 

“oh SHIIIIIT! There’s my BABY! Do you see her, fellas? GodDAMN, I’m a lucky sonofabitch!” 

(you blush so hard and are just like Babe, we’re at work stahp it but he dgaf).

It’s embarrassing and always makes Martin glare so imploringly at you that you’ll go over to Babe just to make him be quiet. Because, you know, YOU’RE AT WORK. 

This bitch is shameless when it comes to loving on you, having once come to stand next to you when Sink was giving an important announcement and straight-up PINCHED. YOUR. ASS. 

how you didn’t yelp is a miracle, and how no one else seemed to notice was equally astounding 

(oh, the boys noticed. They kinda shipped it tho, so it was more a matter of hiding their joy). 

Needless to say, it only happened the once, something you made Babe swear after you pulled him aside and punched him in the arm. 

Don’t worry, you kissed it better.

Roe: 

bb boy doesn’t say anything at first, 

the smile he saves just for you is playing at his lips as you walk up to meet him, tho.

The moment you’re close enough that he can smell the  sweet mint of your gum, he’ll whisper something sweet like “hey you” or “mon amor”, or maybe just your name 

(bc let’s be honest, his accent is 10 out of 10 and he could read me the dictionary and I’d still rock an ugly giggle/snort combo). 

If it’s a more serious situation, like if you’re hurt oh lordy

he will literally shout your name until either you shout back or someone tells him where you are. 

I could see him being a face holder, in the sense that he does it to reassure himself that you’re okay and make sure he has your undivided attention. 

Since getting injured in Carentan, you hadn’t been as close to the frontlines as you had been, so when you were needed you are REALLY NEEDED, 

and even if he didn’t like it Gene knew you were the best at what you did. 

Gene also feels better if he knows where you are.

 Even when you eventually return to Easy, he will feel better knowing which Foxhole you’re in, and knowing he’s seen to it your first aid kit was fully stocked.

Liebgott: 

THAT FUCKER’S SMIRKING AT YOU SO OPENLY that whoever he had been talking to instantly goes 

*sigh* y/n’s just came in, didn’t she? 

And he won’t even ANSWER because he’s already shoving past them to walk up and eye you with obvious satisfaction. 

“Bout time you showed up,” he’d say casually, hands finding your hips giving them a quick squeeze. 

“Sooner we get briefed, sooner we can get outta here.” 

(You’re not fully sure what ‘getting outta here’ entails, but if the way he looked at you was any indication, you had a feeling it didn’t involve anything less than PG-13 sexy times.)

Bull: 

“Hey, little lady.”

He’ll say it no matter how tall or short you are, how wide or how narrow.

He will always say it to you that when you first see each other in the morning 

(sometimes, you wake up to Hey, little lady being kissed into the soft skin behind your ear.) 

(Once while on a 48 hour pass, he’d woken you up that way in a REAL bed and the two of you had nearly gotten him sent up Curahee for being late coming back because you’d ended up spending more time in that bed than either of you anticipated Whoops)

(Even if he had been late, he definitely wouldnt have minded, tbh. He fully considered going AWOL if it mean neither of you had to leave the bed)

but throughout the day he’s more concerned about getting his hands on some part of you whenever the two of you had been apart- 

even if it was for like five minutes. 

Nothing over the top- holding his arm up and out so you can step into his side, a press of his lips to your temple. 

Idk guys i just feel like he’d just love you so much that everyone would be able to see, which they do and they all think it’s fucking cute

Buck: 

He doesn’t always call out when he sees you, mostly because your eyes always seem to find his. 

The two of you could be across a field from one another with a thousand angry Germans between you, guns blazing, and the two of you would always spot each other like two honing beacons. 

If its downtime and you guys don’t have to be on your guard he’ll ABSOLUTELY wolf whistle in at you, 

You’ll see a stupid grin lighting up his face as he nods in your direction. 

“Take a look, boys. I think we’ve got ourselves a…” 

and he always waits until you’re close enough that he can wrap a quick arm around your waist and pat your hip. 

“Certified babe-asaurus!” 

(in a foxhole somewhere, a wild Babe’s head pokes up in confusion). 

You groan and boo him, and whoever he was with inevitably ends up booing him too.

But he doesn’t care because seeing you smile makes him so happy you guys.

Lipton: 

If you’re in public, he will quietly step up beside you and place his hand gently between your shoulder blades.

He’s not super into PDA, which you didn’t mind because what he didn’t show in physical touch he more than made up for in open admiration. 

He is in awe of you 

sometimes he worries you forget how highly he thinks of you, how highly everybody thinks of you 

(you don’t forget, but he’s just one of those people who will get intrusive thoughts like that and sometimes has a hard time shaking them so plz just let him say it ok?)

so he always whispers some praise with his greeting 

(Hey, beautiful...Doin’ okay, love?...What’re you thinking, brilliant girl?). 

It’d probably seem like overkill if anyone else did it but Carwood is just so goddamn sincere that you can’t help but duck a quick kiss to his shoulder. 

HOWEVER! 

If you two kids are alone….

OH BOI. 

He is handsy, coming up and caging you with his arms, 

probably pulling you close quickly so you lose your balance and he can hold you a lil bit.

(He likes to sweep you off your feet im so sorry)

 That’s when his praises are hushed and sighed between long slow kisses. 

Nixon: 

Like Liebgott, he’s a snarky motherfucker who will get the most self-satisfied grin on his face the moment he sees you, instantly turning on the famous Lewis Nixon charm ( something he’d long since decided belonged to you and you alone.)

“Uh oh,” he’d say, looking you up and down before raising an eyebrow.

(bc your hot but also he doesn’t want to get all flirty if you’re hurt or sick or something’s up bc ur not just something to flirt with- YOU ARE A BADASS WITH BADASS RESPONSIBILITIES AND THAT WAS SOMETHING HE very often and sometimes FOUND SO HOT THAT IT MADE HIM THINK HE MAY HAVE AN AUTHORITY FETISH this has been a PSA) 

“Here comes trouble.”

you roll your eyes, the behavior you once found cocky and arrogant having becoming endearing somewhere between Toccoa and England. 

He has absolutely no qualms about PDA (verbal or physical), so it’s up to you to reign him in 

(especially if he’s a lil tipsy, poor Luz didn’t need to hear Lewis’s sloppy and shameless plea for you to let him eat you out on top of piano he’d found in the attic of the billet he’d been assigned. You weren’t able to look at George for a week without wanting to die of embarrassment and Lewis Nixon didn’t get any for two weeks. He was sure to never make such a mistake ever again) 

And Dick had probably grown blind to how Lewis liked to pull you his lap and run his hands up and down your thighs while you played with his hair. 

Also, like Lipton, he probably saves the more explicit acts of PDA for when the company has scheduled downtime 

(but only bc you told him he needed to keep it in his pants any other time he tried to get cute with you)

but you can bet your ass his hand will always try to tap it (your ass, that is.)at least once

a day when he isn’t supposed to.

That’s when you get to punish him whoopsies

Dick: 

since the day you were introduced to Dick in Georgia, the boy always made sure to stand when you entered a room and will call you “ma’am”,

(you know, LIKE HE DOES ONLY BECAUSE HE HAS TO FOR SOBEL BC RANKS. I feel like he has a “we salute the woman, not the rank” speech queued up for anyone who tried to give him shit for it BUT THAT’s JUST ME)

but he has a knowing look in his eye that makes the term ‘ma’am’ feel anything but impersonal.

It confused the shit out of replacements, who would automatically stand because their superior officer (that would be Big Dick Winters) did- only to see you standing there in your fatigues with a coffee in each hand with a look of mutual confusion on your face. 

(bc while they like you, but they’re confused still bc while you’re a boss ass bitch,  you didn’t outrank him...or at least they theink you dont?) 

Babe had been the one to ask you about the longing looks and lingering glances, and when you didn’t know how to answer him you’d gone to Nixon, 

He’d burst into tearful laughter and was unable to get it together enough to explain anything.

Dick had been the one to bring it up the next time they were alone, weirdly enough, as she proofread his report for errors that didn’t exist. 

Because you warrant it, he’d said when pressed for a reason why he greeted her like a ranking officer, looking down at his boots as they both blushed like teenagers at a school dance. 

After that, he still stood wherever you walked in

but now he made a point to brush his fingers against yours at some point during the time you were together. 

He’s the definition of a slow burn friends-to-lovers story, and boi can get spicy LEMME TELL YOU.

(this is my first writing thing ever plz let a sister know if there are any glaring typos. Also i’m roughly 97 years late to fandom but I brought y’all some starbucks so plz let me in thank you)