#it's one of those heated doghouses :)

[girlleon]

ANYTIME YOU WANT (JUMP BACK TO ME ANYTIME)

husband!leon kennedy x reader

tags: established relationship. you guys are beefing ngl. masturbation (brief reference, m receiving). leon loves his wife a lot. title from eve 6 anytime.

Your therapist takes in the way you both sit on her couch over the rims of her glasses. Your legs and arms are crossed and you don’t dare look in his direction, lest he thinks he’s not in the doghouse. The first fifteen minutes of this session have been an awkward, stilted silence.

Leon’s legs are spread, his arms folded as he sneaks glances at you from the corners of his eyes. His mouth is downturned at the corners, contrasting the thin line yours is pressed into.

Not to stereotype or anything, but she can definitely see which one dragged the other to marriage therapy. She’s just surprised it’s the man wanting to fix something.

Okay. Since neither of you want to speak, she’ll go first. “Would either of you like to tell me why we’re here this week?” She asks, writing the date in the top left corner of the legal pad’s page.

11 - 18 - 17

She watches you scoff and shift where you sit, balancing your temple on two fingers. “You’re a marriage counselor, aren’t you?” You don’t even look at her as you speak, words ground out from your teeth. “Why else does a couple come to you?”

Alright, not a good start. She watches Leon reach over before he stops himself, a hand returning to his lap. Instead, he says your name softly, begging you to look over at him with those big blue eyes.

You don’t look over.

He changes tactics, head lifting. “Be nice.” He says softly, body shifting to face you as he looks over, drinking you in.

You don’t respond, staring angrily into a space over the therapist’s shoulder.

Leon sucks in a breath through his teeth as he leans back, his hand midway between you two on the ugly upholstery.

Your therapist clears her throat, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Why are you two here?”

Leon takes the lead, his eyes sliding over to you. “We’re having… problems.”

You scoff immediately. “Understatement.” You mutter under your breath, arms folding tightly again.

Leon’s mouth presses into a line as he restrains himself from giving into your baiting before he says, “I’ll lay my cards out on the table.”

You bristle, eyes flicking over at him. Your face is stonily neutral, the slight knot of your brows betraying your frustration.

Wife and husband in habit of needling one another.

“I drank. A lot.” Leon leans back, crossing an ankle over his opposite knee. “And she did a lot to try and keep our marriage afloat before I got my head out of my ass.”

Your therapist notes this on her legal pad. “How long ago was this?”

“Three-ish years.” Leon offers, lacing his fingers together. His wedding band glints in the light—yours is conspicuously absent. His eyes land on you, the second time he’s spoken directly to you. “And I’m forever grateful.”

“Mhm.” Therapist writes that husband is apologetic and open, attempting to bridge the gap. Wife is unreceptive. “And how long have you both been married?”

Shit. That’s a better question for you, you have the dates straight, somehow. Your first time, the date you two got married, the day you two met, your first daughter’s birthday, your first son’s birthday, your second daughter and son’s birthday.

He used to tease you about your calendar brain early on. You’d look a little sheepish and he’d kiss it right off you.

Leon sneaks a glance at you like a drowning man looks at a float. “Um…” He can feel his face warming up, a pretty flush spreading across his cheeks.

You shift, sighing through your nose and picking at the seam of your jeans. “Sixteen years.”

Right. Wife seems to defrost when asked how long they’ve been together—sixteen years.

“And how did you meet?” Just so she has the dates straight.

“College.” Your face heats the longer Leon stares holes into your cheek. Wife seems nostalgic of the early days of relationship. “I worked at the campus dining hall.”

A small, helpless smile spreads across Leon’s face. “I came over to the sandwich and pasta stations as much as I could.”

Husband holds affection for wife still.

You don’t look up at him and your therapist can watch the heartache bloom in his eyes before he looks away.

“What’s your perspective, Mrs. Kennedy?” The therapist asks you, crossing her legs.

You stay silent for so long that the therapist wonders whether you heard her before you say emotionlessly, “He did drink.” Your eyes fall to your fingers. “And mope, and feel bad for himself.”

“I went through a lot of things.” Leon says quietly. Your therapist opens her mouth to hush him, but you beat him to the punch.

“Nobody’s saying you didn’t.” You look up at him for the first time. “If you’d let me finish, you’d understand what I’m saying.”

Your therapist holds up her hands before this can devolve into a full-on argument. “Excuse me.” Two pairs of eyes settle on her. “Let’s not interrupt one another, please. And let’s keep the hostility to the minimum.”

“I’m not being hostile.” You retort, brows furrowing in the middle.

“You’re not exactly being gentle, either.” Leon mutters, raising a brow when you look at him with a frown on your face.

Husband and wife have habit of speaking over one another. “Please.” Your therapist says a little louder. “Mrs. Kennedy, continue.” Wife is on defense.

You take a steadying breath and let it out slowly. Wife employs self-soothing mechanisms. “I was going to say that the previous drinking isn’t the issue to me.” You uncross and recross your legs, bouncing the one on top. “The drinking, frankly, wasn’t a surprise.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Your lips part, eyes flicking over to Leon as you attempt to figure out the best way to talk without breaking his confidentiality.

Leon doesn’t look at you, head balanced on two fingers.

“I…” You take another deep breath. “It’s his job. It’s… it’s a tedious and stressful job. And he’d—“ you cut yourself off, glancing at him again.

“You can say it, it’s fine.” Leon says, sounding particularly weary.

You look particularly conflicted when he says that, mouth turning down at the corners. “He’d got the job from a big incident in ninety-eight. He wasn’t supposed to have this job.”

Wife employing vagaries to protect husband.

“Mhm.” Your therapist looks vaguely uneasy at the omission, but lets you go on.

“He hadn’t started drinking heavily until he was working for the President.” You chew on your cheek, eyes on your husband. “Then after that, he tried to go away to Colorado for a week, leaving me pregnant with three kids.”

Leon’s mouth pulls into a line. “So that’s what this is about.”

Husband and wife hold vague resentment for husband’s job.

Your therapist refrains from rolling her eyes, clearing her throat and waiting for you to go on.

“And then,” you say pointedly, eyebrows raising, “you didn’t have a vacation at all because your job called you in. That’s what I was getting at.”

“More like it found me, but close enough.” Leon replies flippantly, crossing his legs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, measuring your breaths. Your therapist is almost tempted to write that husband has a bad attitude, but holds back.

You look away, one hand moving to twiddle your wedding band out of habit before you register that your finger is empty. You pull your hand away. “He sobered up after the Colorado thing.” You say quietly.

Husband’s work takes him away from the wife and kids fairly often.

Your therapist nods, looking between you two. Wife was angry at beginning of session, now looks downcast, switching role with husband who was earlier downcast, now is irritated. “And how many children do you share with one another?”

“Four.” Leon fills in, hand twitching for his phone as if to show pictures. “Two boys, two girls.”

Four children, two boys and two girls.

“And how has this break—“ When she asks, Leon flinches and you look guilty. “in your relationship impacted your children?”

You glance at one another in tandem. Wife and husband still look for support in one another when asked questions pertaining to them as a family unit. Leon looks away first, cheeks turning red.

You sigh, reaching up and rubbing the back of your neck. “Our eldest girl started acting out in school. She’s defiant, she’s antisocial. She…”

Leon waits as you trail off, then picks up. “She’s an extrovert, like her mom. Which is why it raised alarm bells when her teachers told us that she’d been angry about having to do group work because she wanted to be left alone. She had to be taken home one day because she got in a physical fight with some kids who just wanted to play with her.”

“And your other children?” Her eyes flick between the two of you.

“Our youngest two aren’t in school yet.” You inform her, shifting a little and fiddling with your nails. “Our eldest boy—he’s six—had begun isolating himself from everyone. He wouldn’t even sit at his desk, he just wanted to sit in the library area and do his work—which is completely fine and I don’t see why the teacher threw a fit about it, frankly—but he’d also refused to play with other children. He would just watch other kids at recess—and he’s a very energetic kid.”

Your therapist nods slowly. “I see.”

Leon’s mouth pulls into a small smile at all the information you throw at the therapist. That’s his girl, always motormouthing and talking about anything and everything. Though, you could start an argument with your echo, so maybe there’s a drawback to your ability to talk about anything.

Parental relationship affecting children in household.

“Our youngest two don’t really understand why mommy and daddy are fighting.” Leon muses, watching you play with your fingers. He has half a mind to reach over and hold your hand so you stop fidgeting, but refrains.

“How old are your children?”

“Eight, six, four, and two.” You sneakily reference a tattoo on your forearm of the kid’s birthdates with their initials—he knew you were cheating when it came to remembering their birthdates.

Your therapist glances at her watch, jotting down a few more notes before she closes the legal pad, marking it as Mr. & Mrs. Kennedy. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have this week. If you both are willing to come back, my receptionist out front will schedule you for another session next week.”

Leon watches his cum swirl down the drain miserably, leaning his forehead against the shower tile. What a waste.

That session last week could’ve gone worse, admittedly. It could’ve had you two throwing shit at one another and both of you getting arrested.

The silence during the drive home was excruciating. In the early days, you could fill up the whole fucking car just talking about anything: your coursework, which kid in your class you think is autistic, this new show you watched, anything.

Leon’s a quiet guy, he doesn’t have the capacity to talk about nothing and everything for an hour and you’re his favorite little chatterbox in the world.

He turns off the faucet and shakes his hair out like a dog, raking the curtain aside and grabbing his towel, mopping his face and hair before he dries off his body.

He wraps the towel around himself and steps out of the shower, slicking his hair back and wiping a streak in the foggy mirror so he can somewhat see where he needs to shave.

For good measure, he opens the window and leans forward to the mirror, inspecting his face.

You knock on the door thrice. “Can I come in?”

He turns around, one hand on the knot holding his towel up and the other unlocking the door and pulling it open. You step inside without so much as a glance at him, pausing when you see the streak on the mirror. “I hate when you do that.” you mutter, pulling open the cabinet and rooting around for some disinfectant.

“You hate when I do anything.” Leon mutters back, retrieving the trimmer from the cabinet and being careful not to whack you in the head with it. He jams the plug in the wall, undoing his towel both to dab his cheeks and jaw dry with a corner of it, but also to see if he can get a reaction from you.

You give none, coming back with some rubbing alcohol and cotton pads from the cabinet. Somebody must’ve scraped their knee. You bonk the back of your head on the way out. “Motherfucker!”

Leon puts down the trimmer with a stifled laugh, leaning down and stroking the back of your head gently. “Jesus. You okay?”

You swat at his covered thigh, sitting down on the tile. “It’s not funny.”

“Did you hear me laugh?” Maybe you did. His bad, he should’ve been quieter. He strokes the back of your head one last time before pulling his hand away.

“No, but I know you want to.” You grouse, getting up from the floor and picking up the rubbing alcohol and the cotton pads. Safe, just like a guy stealing a base at the last second.

You walk away without anything further and Leon feels stupidly self-conscious as he watches your ass. Is it the hair? No, you said you liked the body hair. Is it the body? Is he out of shape? Well, he’s not far outside the realm of dad bod. Besides, you told him a couple years ago that you liked seeing the give to his tummy, means he’s eating well.

He shakes his head, leaning into the mirror and picking up the trimmer as he buzzes his stubble down a little more. Your four year old runs into the bathroom with a smile and he pauses, face half-shaven to give some love to one of his three girls, plopping her on the counter as she talks his ear off and he continues shaving.

After a while, he helps her down so she can go run around with her siblings and so he can get changed, hanging his towel up when she’s gone and changing into a pair of boxers. He comes into his bedroom and heads over to his dresser, pulling out a shirt and some sweatpants.

He comes downstairs fully dressed to utter chaos.

Your kids are too busy running around the living room and body slamming one another to listen to you. You stand there frustratedly as you try to configure a game plan, one temple aching. You don’t like raising your voice at them, your voice goes too high and at a certain point, kids tune it out.

“Hey!” Leon, on the other hand, has no qualms about raising his voice. He doesn’t have to do much, he has a lot of diaphragm support.

The kids pause, immediately looking guilty.

Wordlessly, he points out to the back door and they scramble away, shouting and ordering each other around and back to playing with one another.

Leon goes over and shuts the door with a sigh. “They get that energy from you, you know.” He muses, heading over to the kitchen to get himself a snack.

“I know.” You sit down on your humongous couch, rubbing a temple. In the corner is your pillow, your blanket hung over the back of the couch. Leon’s heart dully aches when he sees that setup, he’s not sure it ever won’t. God, he misses cuddling you and his babies.

Your therapist holds up a hand in the last ten minutes of your session after having found a good place to cut you off. “So.” She says after letting out a quiet sigh, looking over her notes.

11 - 25 - 17

Making some headway in conversations about the other’s intentions. Husband and wife very similar: hardheaded, hate to lose, want their voices to be heard. Neither want their children to be in a broken home.

Wife sleeps on couch, lacks wedding ring for second session in a row. Husband longing for connection with her but wants her to give the signal that she’s ready.

She looks up. “I’m going to give you both some homework.” She watches your eyebrow raise and Leon smirk. “First, no matter what either of you is doing, when you first see each other for the day, I want you to hug for at least twenty seconds.”

You frown, Leon’s expression lightening. Amateur advice, or so you think.

“Second, I want you both to start keeping journals of your fights.”

Nevermind.

“Journals of our fights?” You repeat, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“I’m not finished.” The therapist reprimands gently, watching you frown. Wife has issues with authority. “These journals should take place over a week’s time. I want you to write down what the fight was about, what was said, how you both reacted. At the end of every week—Sunday, we’ll say—you’ll exchange the journals and read from the other’s point of view.”

Damn, that’s actually really good.

“Third,” The therapist pins you in place with a look. “I want you to wear your wedding band again.“

She watches the embarrassment cross your face, eyes cutting over to Leon when he looks too smug. “Don’t look so smug, Mr. Kennedy. I want you to recite five things you like about her—“

“That’s easy.” Leon says, meaning every word.

She gives him a look. “When you’re in an argument. Mentally, not out loud. Speaking of, you both need a code word for when the argument is getting to be too much and you need to walk away from it.”

She stands up, putting the legal pad in the folder in the Kennedy file. “I’ll see you both next week.”

After the third session, you move right back into the bedroom, after waking up to Leon laying on top of you on the couch.

Leon’s brushing his teeth as you change into pajamas, leaning over and spitting into the sink before he brushes his tongue. He rinses the bristles and puts the brush back in the holder, coming out and helping you ready the bed before your six year old son comes in, saying his tummy’s upset.

“I’ve got it.” Leon comes over and presses a hand to his son’s forehead. Warm. Five out of the six of the Kennedys tend to run warm, which isn’t a worry. “Let’s get you some Pepto, buddy.”

He takes his son’s hand and leads him downstairs, giving him a dose and taking him back up, laying him back in his bed. “Goodnight. Mommy and daddy love you.” He whispers, going over and kissing his three other children goodnight.

He comes back to your room to find you in bed reading, lights dimmed. Instinctively, he comes over to your side and adjusts the lamp so you’re not straining your eyes to read. He comes back around to his side and turns off his light, lying on his right side and facing you.

When you decide it’s time to sleep, you lean over and turn off the light, putting your book on your nightstand and slipping beneath the covers.

It’s silent for a while before Leon whispers, “Sometimes, I wonder if we should have another baby.”

Your head snaps over to his. “What?”

“Not—“ He scoots a little closer, almost reaching out to take your hand. “not, like, a bandage baby or anything. I don’t think a baby can fix this.” A pause before he gestures in the dark. “Us, I mean.”

You snort despite yourself. “I hope not.”

Leon scoffs, coming a little closer. “You know me. That’s not fair to a little baby. And you said four’s your limit.”

Your heart warms. Maybe you shouldn’t be so surprised he remembered.

“I love you, you know.” Leon murmurs, hesitantly and loosely taking your hand. Even in the dark, you can see him coming.

Your chest aches. “I know.”

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” When your head turns, he’s there, inches from your face.

“That it took me so long to pull my head from my ass. You are�� my anchor in this crazy-ass world.” He squeezes your hand, hoping you’ll let him hold it for a while longer. “And I hurt you. You’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, and I love you, and I hurt you.”

Your burning eyes scrunch shut as you press your forehead to his.

“I just hope you forgive me—I hope one day, that I’m good enough for you to forgive me.” He whispers, voice wavering. “I want this to work. I want you. God, I miss you.”

Maybe that’s what you needed, you needed to hear him render his heart open.

You come closer, pressing your front to his.

“And even my job—“ He curses, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then the spot between your eyebrows. “I’ll quit.” When you giggle, he huffs. “I’m serious. Give me the word and I’ll quit.”

The tension in his chest eases when you tuck your head beneath his chin. “God, no, don’t do that. At least one of us needs an income.” You mutter, throwing an arm around his waist.

Forgiveness never felt so sweet.

[figthoughts]

heat - alec mcdowell 18+

warnings: smut, (alec x gf!reader)

*ೃ༄

your body physically ached as you looked over at your boyfriend. you could feel the frustration boiling through your veins, making it virtually impossible to think about anything other than getting your pussy fucked.

you were in heat.

the absolute worst part of your feline dna. it was almost painful how desperate you were to get off and find relief.

alec was sat on the opposite end of the sofa, watching the tv, seemingly oblivious to your little problem. how could he have no idea about the frustration that coursed through your body? why couldn’t he tell you were a little… stiff?

all you could do was press your thighs together and keep your mouth shut, trying not to moan or make any inappropriately forward comments towards him.

it was embarrassing going through your heat cycle. of course, alec had feline dna mixed into his genetic cocktail too, but he just didn’t get it. he wasn’t a woman. the pain and ache that thudded between your legs every time you looked at a man, let alone your sex-god boyfriend. it was painful.

you sighed and let your mind drift off to the idea of alec bending you over and- wait, focus! no, don’t focus on him… or his hands. oh my god, his hands… no! but look at his thighs… fuck, you’d just like to-

“you alright?”

alec’s soft voice snapped you out of your trance. fuck. did he catch you staring?

you cleared your throat, “yeah, course.”

you glanced up at him with a forced smile, your eyes finding his piercing green ones. you watched them narrow, almost as if he was studying you.

“really? cause you look kinda… uncomfortable,” he chuckled smoothly and smirked.

“no- uh- just… just fidgety,” you nodded slowly.

“yeah, i can see that, babe. you keep staring,” he grinned and turned his body in your direction, “what’s the matter?”

you groaned almost silently. look away, please, look away! was all you could think. you were about five seconds away from jumping on him.

“nothing!” you replied a little too quickly. you turned your head to look at the tv, averting your gaze. you couldn’t hold on for much longer, not when he was looking at you like that with his big plump lips and those flirtatious eyes and that big dumb grin on his face.

“baby,” he laughed, “i can tell something’s wrong. you look like you’re gonna explode. did i do something… say something?”

alec moved closer to you on the couch. you had to hold in another groan. don’t come closer, god…

“no, nothing…” you mumbled and kept your eyes on the tv.

alec furrowed his brows, his signature smirk still stuck on his face, “so if i’m not in the doghouse… then it’s what, babe?”

you bit your lip and bounced your leg. you couldn’t look at him. not right now.

alec moved his hand to your knee, a seemingly normal gesture between the both of you, but in your current state… god.

“baby, talk to me?” he murmured and squeezed your thigh. he shifted closer to you again.

alec felt your body tense up as he neared closer to you. his brows furrowed and the smirk turned into a soft smile.

“come on, baby. talk to m-”

“alec, if you don’t remove that hand from me right now, i’m going to lose it,” you said lowly, turning your head to face him. your breath hitched as soon as his eyes locked onto yours.

oh, fuck.

“wha-”

you leaned forward and smashed your lips against his with pure desperation. alec laughed and let you push him back onto the couch, your legs moving to straddle him.

his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him, enjoying your sudden mood switch. he grinned as you moaned loudly into his mouth and started grinding against his thigh.

alec squeezed your ass and broke the kiss, “oh, this is why you’re so fidgety, baby? so needy and-”

you didn’t have time for this. no time to talk. your cunt ached and your entire body felt like it was on fire. the last thing you needed was small talk.

you shut him up with another kiss, finding his lips again with such force. your hands moved themselves straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, before diving in and finding his length.

alec chuckled breathily and looked down at your hand desperately pumping his semi-hard cock in his boxers, “babe- babe! slow down… don’t you want this to be a little romantic?”

your eyes snapped up to his. he dropped the smirk and gave you a quizzical look as he saw the sheer desperation in your expression. alec’s face softened and he nodded. without saying anything, he picked you up and carried you effortlessly into your bedroom.

he laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you, your arms instantly wrapping around his body like a koala, your cunt grinding against him in desperate need of friction and your mouth attaching itself to his neck.

alec grinned, “oh, you need me so bad, don’t you?”

you whimpered and pulled your face back to look at him. your face hardened involuntarily, “need you inside me now, alec. stop fucking around,” you groaned and started tugging his shirt off.

he laughed again, highly amused by your no-bullshit attitude. he wasn’t mad at it, he liked seeing you acting so desperately for once.

he flung his shirt off with a smirk and looked down at your flustered state as you eyed him like a piece of meat. his hands moved down and found the hem of your shirt. you sat up a little and he pulled it off you, discarding it on the floor with his.

alec leaned back down and pressed soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck, leaving pink little marks scattered across your skin.

you groaned loudly and pushed him back, “no. i said i need you inside me. now, alec,” you almost commanded, your hormones making you so unashamedly needy.

alec laughed and raised his hands, “alright, alright. if you wanna play, we can play,” he smirked and yanked your pyjama shorts down.

you let out a huff you didn’t realise you were holding in as you watched him throw your shorts and panties behind him carelessly.

“oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled and rubbed a finger along your pussy, “you’re so wet.”

you scoffed and scowled, “can you just fuck me already? i’m- ugh!”

alec lifted his finger to his lips and cleaned off your arousal, “mmm. patience, my sweet girl.”

“patience…? alec!” you whined his name. you could feel your pussy throbbing, your walls achingly desperate to be wrapped around him.

he chuckled again with such a damn smug expression and it pissed you off.

“now or no blowjobs for a month.”

his eyes widened in actual concern.

“fuck, okay,” alec began pushing down his sweatpants and boxers, letting himself spring free.

your lips parted as you saw his cock bounce against his stomach. you involuntarily let out a moan, which made alec grin and move back over to you.

“say please,” he teased.

you groaned, “please. please just fuck me, alec. baby, i need you so bad it hurts.”

alec grinned again, moving his hand to his cock. he jerked himself real slow, letting you watch as the precum pooled at his head. he saw the hunger in your eyes, your pink swollen lips still parted as your breath hitched.

he leaned over you and lifted your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. you whimpered and locked your ankles together, as if to say ‘you’re stuck here now, you have to fuck me’.

alec positioned his member at your entrance, his tip brushing against you teasingly. you let out a whine and smacked his shoulder, “alec!”

he smirked and slowly pushed himself inside you, inch by inch. he could feel you clenching around him, the warm tightness of your pussy welcoming him in.

you gasped as he bottomed out, his tip hitting your cervix. alec watched your face with his signature smirk. he loved it. no matter how many times you’re together, he always loved seeing that face of yours. the one where you feel him fill you up completely. the one where you’re stretched out and feeling his cock pound against your cervix.

he slowly pulled his hips back, taking a moment before shoving his cock back into you and finding his rhythm. his movements were slow and almost teasing. you whined again and pulled him down to you, his chest pressed against your tits.

“faster... and harder,” you begged with your face scrunched as you clung to him, his eyes locked on you as he moved.

alec let out a huff of air in amusement as he sped up, “okay, baby.”

his cock slammed into you as your walls wrapped tightly around him. you watched his face contort as you clenched around his member. the room filled with groans and grunts, and the lewd sound of your skin meeting.

your pussy still ached as he stretched it out though, you needed more. you needed as much as you were physically able to take.

“a-alec… need more,” you breathed out as you clung to him, your arms wrapped around his neck.

he lifted his head and looked down at your face, his breathing laboured as he thrusts, “more? okay, i got you.”

alec’s fingers moved to your swollen, sensitive clit, rubbing rough circles. your hips jerked up as you whined and dropped your head back into the pillow.

“fuck- that’s it…. don’t- mmm, god- don’t stop, baby- i- mmm…” you rambled on in ecstasy, the ache in your pussy finally started to dull down as it was replaced by extreme pleasure.

this is what you had been aching for.

“fuuuuck, babe. you’re fuckin’ squeezing me so tight,” alec groaned, dropping his forehead to yours and shutting his eyes.

you felt his warm breath on your lips as he huffed with every thrust. your lips parted and desperately searched for his. you couldn’t get enough of him.

alec leaned down and connected your lips, letting his tongue tangle with yours. you moaned and whimpered into his mouth as his fingers sped up on your clit.

he broke the kiss and he rested his forehead against yours again, “mmm, you feel incredible, baby.”

you scrunched your face and let out a deep moan. alec moved his lips down to your neck, gently biting and sucking on your favourite sensitive little spots. you couldn’t help the moans and sighs that left your lips.

“mmm… alec, so good… so close…”

you felt him smile against your neck and his fingers sped up on your pussy. the knot in your stomach tightened as he thrusted even harder into your cunt, his tip slamming against your cervix.

white hot pleasure washed over you as you came on his cock, your walls fluttering around him, earning little grunts from alec against your neck as he felt you squeezing him.

your groans were so loud and whimpery. you could feel yourself gushing on his length. it felt so good, you were nearly seeing stars.

your head lazily bounced on the pillow at his thrusts and you let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the feeling of your boyfriend finally being balls deep in you after yearning for him all day.

alec suddenly pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, slowing his thrusts, “babe, flip over,” he ordered.

he pulled himself out and you let out a whine in protest, immediately missing the feeling of him inside you. he waited for you to flip over onto your stomach, before grabbing you quickly by the hips and pulling your ass up.

you grinned lazily into the sheets, letting him manhandle you however he wanted. he positioned you to his liking before slipping his cock back into your pussy.

“ohhh, fuck,” you whined, feeling his tip brush against your gspot as he slowly started to thrust. his cock felt unbelievably good.

“how’s that, angel?” alec cooed and grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly.

“mmm, s-so good… harder please,” you begged, moaning into the sheets.

alec chuckled breathily, slamming into you harder and faster, “there we go, baby. you’re taking me so well.”

his hands kept squeezing your ass and the sound of his skin meeting yours filled the room. you arched your back, desperate for his cock to keep slamming into your gspot harder.

“so pretty, baby. such a pretty girl. my pretty girl,” he spoke softly and slightly laboured.

alec landed a smack on your ass and you let out a yelp. your pussy clenched around him as the coil in your stomach tightened.

he chuckled as his cock twitched inside you. his hand came down on your ass again with another loud smack.

“fuck!” you cried out softly, feeling the sting. alec’s hand rubbed over the reddening skin.

“s’alright, baby. relax for me,” he grunted. his movements into your cunt sped up even more, his tip now slamming against your gspot. thank god- no, thank manticore for his superhuman genetics.

you whined and cried into the sheets, feeling your orgasm building. your pussy squeezed around alec’s cock as he slid in and out.

the noises and words that left his mouth were filthy and so, so damn sexy. you could tell he was close. and it only made your pussy clench harder around him.

“f-fuuuck… gonna cum, baby,” he groaned out.

you whimpered and nodded into the sheets as your neared your own orgasm. you were so fucking close.

alec’s hand landed a smack on your ass again, earning another yelp from you. your walls squeezed around him and he groaned loudly, his thrusts quickening into a sloppy mess.

alec hit his climax and he shot his thick warm ropes of cum into your cunt, painting your walls white as he grumbled and moaned behind you, his hands desperately squeezing your ass.

“fuuuuck…” he groaned.

the feeling of him filling you up set off your own release, the coil snapping again in your stomach. your pussy clenched around him like crazy as you melted into the bed.

“mmm…. god, alec! fuuuck!” you moaned, your voice muffled by the sheets.

alec’s breath was laboured. he slowed down his thrusts, still gently fucking you through your orgasm as you melted beneath him. he watched you lovingly as you came undone.

“such a good girl,” he commented, “you’re so fucking good… feel fucking amazing, baby.”

you chuckled breathily into the mattress and smiled at his words as you tried to catch your breath, your pussy still gently fluttering around his softening cock.

“t-that was-” you began.

“yeah…” he laughed slightly. his movements came to a still and he sighed, a big dopey grin grew on his face, “we gotta fuck like that more often.”

you hummed in response and gently turned to look at him. alec pulled out of your cunt and grinned as his cum slowly poured out of you, a sight he never misses whenever you two get intimate.

“my girl,” he hummed, “stuffed full of my cum.”

you rolled your eyes playfully as he grinned at you, “mhm, as always.”

alec laughed and spanked your ass again, though much gentler this time. he rubbed over the place he just smacked and sat up properly with a fond smile on his face.

“cm’ere, baby. we’ll clean up later,” alec said breathily and laid against the headboard, his arms pulling you to him.

you let him pull you against him and he kissed your temple, “you feeling better?”

you nodded and relaxed in his arms, “yeah, so much better.”

“mmm, could tell you needed a good fuck,” he grinned as you rested your head on his chest, his hand coming to play with your hair.

“oh, yeah?” you scoffed softly.

“oh, i know you’re in your heat cycle, baby. i can smell it,” he laughed with his signature shit-eating grin back on his face.

you scoffed again, “that’s disgusting.”

“yeah, but it’s true. it’s in my dna. i can always tell when you’re like this. i was just waiting to see how long you’d take to crack.”

“oh, you jerk!” you lightly smacked his chest and lifted your head to look at him, “why didn’t you help me earlier?”

“s’kinda fun to see you bouncing around the place, too embarrassed to just ask for my cock,” he smirked down at you, his hand still in your hair.

“oh, shut up,” you smiled and rolled your eyes.

A/N: oh my goddd finally finished this. i hope u enjoyed!! i lowkey loved writing this even tho it took so long !!!! ugh anyways alec is so fine #needthat

feedback and requests are welcome and encouraged!! <3

[kaira-diaries]

One More Night:

Note: one shot is also available on Wattpad under my account Kairadiaries for those who prefer it.

Warning: violence / character death / blood / gun use / bullet wounds / language

Pair: javi x f!character

Summary: you're hired for a job at the embassy with Javi, but make one life threatening mistake.

••••

"I think..I think he's dead."

"You think?" Javier scowled with a tilted head and furrowed brows.

You made a massive fuck up.

You were supposed to interview the guy. Gacha, you think was his name, use your trust worthy interview voice with a pen and paper copying everything down. Keep it low key, beat around the bush and read from the card of questions the ambassador approved. But no. No. You knew you blew it once the man perked up in his seat. You asked your own unapproved question, must have been a little too specific, considering the man threw himself from the balcony, punching a dent into the hood of Javier's truck.

You observed the body in silence, unsure of what to say to Javier. You only shy away from him and his intimidating demeanor. You'd never get used to it that's for sure. Though, right now what you're worried about was the ambassador. Javier had stuck his neck out for you and argued with the woman to give this opportunity to you. You were a newly surfaced interviewer, unseen and unknown. He'd insisted on using you and it was a foolproof plan until you blew it.

"We are so fucked." Javier raised his voice, rolling the disfigured body on its back. The sound of broken glass made your face scrunch up as tears threatened to fall.

"We're going to have to call for back up, and inform the ambassador."

"What – what will she do?" Jav couldn't tear his eyes from the body and it's disturbing angle.

"Who knows, y/n. We'll be in the doghouse that's for fucking sure. All I asked was for you to follow the questions, the approved questions." That's when he ripped his eyes from the body, glaring at you.

"I – I..I'm sorry." You whispered as your cheeks began to salt with tears. He only shook his head, instructing you to divert the crowd of civilians that amassed on the sidewalk, while he made a few phone calls.

The heat on its own weighed you down, though you found it strenuous to breathe from the massive blame pressing against your shoulders.

____

"Does someone want to tell me what the fuck happened?" You had almost jumped. The walls rattled from her anger. Javi hadn't looked at you once since you both returned. He sat beside you, playing with the flawed fabric of his tie. Forgiveness wouldn't be in the cards for you if he lost his job.

"Well?" She urged.

"I-I just wanted to do what was asked. I never meant for this to happen. I'm sorry."

"We run this Embassy on a tight leash, y/n. We are being scrutinized, not only by Escobar, but the entire country itself. Our missteps affect us all, and many are interested to see just how far we'll go to get to the other side of this case and today will reflect incredibly poorly on us. Gacha? Off fucking limits in the cartel. In any other circumstance this would be a break through, but right now? Not. Fucking. Good. For any of us. Through the public eye this will be an onslaught or organized trickery on an innocent man."

The ambassador takes a seat, fingers massaging the exhaustion in her eyes. " Y/n what were you thinking?"

Your cheeks are feverish, "I don't know." You admit. You intend to speak out more, but your tongue is frozen, and Javi chimes in. "So what do we do, what's the plan here?"

"We do nothing, agent. We leave it in the hands of the narcos. As far as the public is concerned, the man was indeed innocent, with no ties to the cartel. Just a rich investor. If Escobar makes a move, we'll be free to hit him again. As for the innocent man that will be entirely unlike."

You sit motionlessly, head down, and out of the conversation.

The Ambassador blows out a breath of air as if it was the first time she's breathed over the course of this conversation. "Every agent will be on alert. An order should be released later today. In the meantime, you should head home before I change my mind about holding onto your badges for a little while. Lock down your apartment, close all the shades, and keep the lights off. Hell, book a hotel room if you want, either way, I'll send some men to keep a close perimeter. Just take the rest of the week off."

"What about Murphy?" Javi's partner, of course. The two are inseparable. A true brotherly relationship.

"He'll be just fine in his own. Paperwork shouldn't be a burden for him. Your main concern is keeping y/n out of sight. Your door could be beaten down at any instant with the flash of a gun barrel to her head."

You should be worried about that last part, except a kick of relief washes through you at the fact that Murphy, on his own, would be safe for the rest of this week.

You take this opportunity of silence to pull out your recorder and notepad from the interview, placing it on the wooden desk. You drop your wrists quickly, hoping to hide their tremor. "From the interview," you mumbled as she grabs both, flipping through your pages.

"You're dismissed," she answers, speaking to both of you, eyes still glued to the ink.

____

"I should have never brought you into this." Javier shares. The car ride home had been silent, until now, with twenty minutes still to go.

"It's not like I meant to, Javier. Surely you know that?" He lights a cigarette, steering the car with his knee for a moment or two. You always hated that.

"Of course, I know that. I'm not.. angry with you, y/n." He says, cigarette between his teeth.

"Right." You lean on your elbow, staring out the car window. You don't believe him, not with the way he reacted this morning. Though, you think on how else he could react. Give you comfort? Reassuring words, cooing that it's not your fault? No. Javier wouldn't. Not with something that was this important because it is your fault.

"I mean I was, but.." he pauses. You feel his gaze before a warm palm squeezes the pillowy flesh of your thigh. "Hey," he calls. You turn, drawn to the delightful change in his voice, and the scent of his cigarette. "I was angry, of course, I was. But I understand, y/n. You saw an opportunity to get more Intel, even if it was premature. It doesn't matter because you were thinking like me."

You could see the warmth radiating from his brown eyes. The aviators are unable to neutralize such fervency. You nod at him, sliding your hand onto his, locking it against your thigh.

"I mean, did we nearly lose our jobs? Probably. Are you number one on Escobars kill list? Probably. Is it my fault? Probably." He shrugs, taking a puff from his cigarette.

"I'm the one that fucked up, not you? You stuck your neck out for me, got me a job at the embassy and I just...I fucked up." You couldn't think of any other way to put it. You fucked up. It's as simple as that. You wouldn't allow Javi to to blame himself.

"Okay, well how about we don't play the finger pointing game and just eat some dinner, yeah?"

Javier pulls the car into a concealed parking spot, different from your usual spot. He grabbed your bag from the backseat, stepping out the car and circling to the other side to you.

It, for some reason, brought you back.

You thought of the night you met Javi. It was a nice dinner, your friend Connie, Steve's wife, had invited you. You sat across from her, Steve sat beside her, and Javier was in the chair next to you, absolutely grilling you. You couldn't remember quite what it was about, but you remember the wrath you felt. Vexation was clearly his strong suit. You couldn't tell if he was being playful or straight up just being a dick. Either way, you had a bad taste in your mouth after being around him.

It was almost enough to keep you from learning just how creative and brave he was.

Steve had eventually told you the stories of how vigorous his plans were.

Raids we're successful because of Javi and its what makes him one of the best in the embassy to this day.

You couldn't help but ask yourself ..

Did you ruin that?

Make him look like a fool in love? Make him look soft?

A large hand waved in your face. "Where'd you go, huh?"

You blinked twice, eyes back in focus, finding his focusing back on you.

"Just lost in thought, I guess." You tucked a red wavy strand of hair behind your ear and he leans in giving you a sweet kiss, helping you out of the truck.

____

"Do you have any sevens?"

"Go fish, pretty girl."

It was past midnight in Colombia, yet the streets were loud with pride.

Javier and you downed a bottle of wine and a box of cookies baked and gifted to you from Connie. You made an effort to sleep after dinner, was even enticed by Javi, but your mind was too loud and your bed was frigid. A little too cold to be ordinary. It was a bizarre feeling and awfully foreign, leaving you with an uneasy sensation. Javi sensed it of course, and toted you off into to the living room, making sure to gather his fortuitous deck of playing cards and the bottle of red wine that was currently hollow. He even found blankets and gave his word to stay up and play cards until you were exhausted.

You whined, snatching yet another card. Who knew Javi would beat you at a damned child's game. He had a pompous smirk on his face while observing you.

You merely giggled as your cheeks reddened with color from his watch.

You worshiped witnessing Javi like this. So..homely. His hair is unkept and fluffy, a remarkable compliment to his brown eyes. He wore a black nightshirt and pajama pants. He was soothed, and his guard was down. His customary harsh and strong-arm articulation, reduced to a delicate sculpture. You could just paint the breathtaking portrait in your head; a life with Javier, a family with him. It was a beautiful romance and one that'd be ultimately conceivable.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" He says.

You smile, "Just lost in thought." You answer. His lips stretch into a sweet smile. One of the great secrets of Javier Peña; his striking smile.

"Do you remember, back in Texas last year when we were having dinner with my mother?"

He nods. "On her farm, right? The Fourth of July?"

"Yes. And she wouldn't be quiet about the nights her and I spent together, playing cards and drinking chocolate milk." You giggle at the thought. "I don't think I understood what it meant for her until now. I mean, I was just a kid and was happy to be there with her, but she needed it. A time to just get away from what troubled her. To get away from her mistakes and be with somebody she cherished." You glanced at Javier.

"I thought this would be a promising diversion. We both made mistakes today and I just, I didn't want you to crumble. I'm so sorry, y/n for dragging you into this mess. I wasn't thinking like I should have. I knew the risks, and.."

"No no no, this was my decision." You grab his jaw and draw his gaze back to yours. "My choice. Okay? I'm the one, that after two years of watching you work, disobeyed direct orders. I should have been smarter than I was." His eyes are unsure but yours are opposing. Your strong gaze turns to mush, knowing he'd never be okay with this. Instead of words, you just lean in communicating with a kiss.

It's strange to you how much a person can enable you to forget your troubles. You were caught in this endearing moment with him and obviously, he was too, because once an intense grief, scalding and unbearable, shot through your shoulder, a flip had quickly switched in Javier's expression as he pulled back and it terrified you.

Really terrified you.

Everything, from that moment on, began to move fast.

I guess that's what happens when you're about to possibly die.

You remember the blood pouring from your shoulder, keeling over onto the floor in agony. Javier's eyes are in an unreachable rage and sorrow as he grabs you as gently as possible, pulling you behind the couch. Your body was in shock, the bullet surely hitting something essential in your shoulder from the portion of blood you were losing. Javier, shifting you so your back is to him examines for an exit wound. You barely hear the agonizing scream you release. "I know, pretty girl, I know!"He enunciated. Finding exactly what he was looking for, Javi fit your head in his lap. It was evident there was nowhere else to go unless we both wanted to be punctured with bullets. As the bullets continued to fly, each bang deafening you by the second, Javier moved fast, grabbing his gun from the coffee table. You dared to look down, finding Javiers blood-stained shirt, finding your wound and it's a gruesome attribute.

With mastery, he aims with unstable hands up over the couch directly into enemies' sight. Speaking of sight, yours begins to spin, and you sense the loss of strength in your limbs as you pull at his shirt, giving into the darkness.

In your unconscious state, Jav had run out of bullets quicker than you could even speak the word. After all it was just him against a crew of men that had a hell of a lot more cover and yet a handful were put down with ease. It's then that the ambassador's men show, along with Steve. Connie sprints to your side and remains there. With both Javier and Connie keeping pressure on your wound they bitterly waited for a medic.

Javier hadn't known what to do.

So he pleaded.

Not only to you but to the gods above for another day with you, another night with you. He had implored, with your blood on his hands and shirt. He had prayed for one more night, knowing damn well he wouldn't get one as you took your final breath leaving him with a shattered universe and an immense arch of vindication.

[leadersguilt]

" trust me, it's not as bad as it sounds. " fox in the doghouse / fish in the birdcage; her kindness is a virtue yet still does he feel himself falling short, half-suspended over a backyard pyre, heat-embraced between one shuddering breath and the next. her concern is best entrusted into the hands of those who have earned it, those with shadows who no longer flee from the truth like an act of breathing. she's helpful, in perpetuum ---- but he's gotten far too used to covering up his own mistakes, loading this dam until it breaks. " just forgot to eat as much as i usually do today, should have expected it to catch up to me by now. " ----- @gkunde ♡'d!

[lana-starscream]

Season 2 Premere

omg yippie, the new season starts this weekend! (Sunday for me, David McLane's Bravest Soldier)

Idk why this shit never works for me lol whatever

i have seen this listed (on their youtube i think) as episode 53, as season 9 (when taking all the other WOWs into consideration), and as Season 2 (since the Viacom/CBS deal), but all that shit is for nerds. Here's the real Gospel from WOWE.com:

WHO ATTACKED THE BEAST?: this shit has been so compelling, but nobody (oddly) has talked about it in a while. hopefully this has been weighing on the guilty parties' mind and keeping them up at night. I would not be shocked if it was traced back to Lana Star. I think she's ultimately the puppet master behind everything, but the Beast was most likely attacked by either Penelope Pink (eager to please Lana as her protege of the season) or Vicky Lynn Mc Coy (typical enforcer stuff)

even MORE compelling is the return of Adriana Gambino! i am a BIIIIG GambinoHead, so this is very exciting to me. Will we see her reunited with old tag team partner GiGi Gianii? (they both loved fashion, family and being italian!) Gigi is using the music Adriana had originally, and it feels like they have been wanting to use this character since the AXS era, so it will be interesting to see if they actually get into the murder cover up that the website still references. A girl can only dream!!

come on Dave, i know you have this in you.

Without immediately going off on another tangent, AJ Mendez missing from commentary is going to hurt on this one. She loved BOTH of these women so much.

Anyway, they seem to also be behind Jennifer Florez, and as if they want her in the mold of Stephy Slays. I think the Jen-Z thing is corny, just like Stephy's Millennial Superhero schtick. Following this, she might be one of those generic faces that gets squashed to make the other guy look good. (Adriana does need to come back hot, she did vanish for 30 episodes or so) In fact, I think that might even be the angle. I will toke on my purple doob if theres a video package of her from the previous season working in the murder angle and her not being in WOW)

That all being said, I think this is Adriana Gambino's win here.

Another bittersweet match- I don't believe the Heavy Metal Sisters are together anymore, so Fury is out on her own. I'm sure she'll do fine, She's beautiful and hi hello Fury if you're reading this i am free anytime baby xoxoxo.

Anyway.

Tormenta has been a fun addition to WOW and any excuse to see Sophia Lopez is always welcome with me.

Having said this, I think Fury is going to win, she has to make a good impression on day 1 too. (That might be an overarching theme here, wild!)

the now Title-less Carlson twins (in cute new gear tho) vs Crystal Waters & Sandy Shore. Spring Break joined up late in the season (and separately for a minute) and have mostly been fodder for other tag teams so far. Will that trend continue? Maybe Miami has something to prove? Maybe Lana has them in the doghouse? Maybe there will be an extensive video package to belabor every detail of this?

Giving this win to Miami Sweet Heat, but mostly for the sake of keeping Lana Star happy.

Big WOW welcome to all my fellow ChantillyHeads!!! She rules. She has an absolutely dated gimmick and perfect hair (it looks so good every season), she always makes her opponent look good, and she hits super hard. This is easily going to be a Penelope victory, but fingies crossed Chantilly gets a few good kicks in.

ALRIGHT WOW you know what i want:

More Exile

Exodus singles match

Lana Star mayyyyybe getting another blonde??

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Devastated: Training, Day 1

Mama Mia (Here We Go Again)

I’m sorry in advance.

The rest of this series, titled Damage, can be found on my masterlist, which is linked in my bio. If you want to know what’s going on, I recommend reading through that first.

HOWEVER! It should be noted that this is more of a spinoff series to that. Devastated is not canon to the events of Damage, but it can be assumed that everything that has happened so far in Damage has happened preceding this. Basically, this branches off into non-canon territory sometime after Cole has completely succumbed to the brainwashing going on here.

ESSENTIALLY: Devastated is a Damage AU.

Trigger Warnings: dehumanization, pet whump, Stockholm syndrome, creepy!whumper and just like… general uncomfy vibes associated with the aforementioned warnings. If that sounds like it would bother you, please don’t read!

2020 words

“Let go of me you bastard!” Kai yelled, struggling to the best of his ability. His hands and feet were bound, but he was ready to throw this guy around if he wasn’t in such a tight position.

Whatever jerk that was carrying him didn’t say anything in retaliation, he just kept walking wordlessly. 

“What, are you too good to talk to the guy that you’re dragging through the middle of nowhere? What the hell do you even want?”

Whatever he’d been drugged with was beginning to wear off, and though his words were still slightly slurred, he didn’t back down. If he was lucky, he could stall for long enough until he was able to somehow get his feet free and then pummel this guy.

He was unceremoniously dropped, and he fell to the ground with a painful thud. Okay, that hurt. 

Kai groaned, unable to sit up with his arms pinned under him and the drugs still in his system. From what he could tell, he was in a grassy clearing, though there was still some snow on the ground, next to some kind of... weird wooden pole.

Whatever jerk that had decided to kidnap him (not for long though, he was going to get out of here as soon as he could feel his toes again), proceeded to pick him up and hook his handcuffs over the pole. 

He growled, kicking at him to the best of his ability, but the man stepped back before he was able to do any harm.

“Careful there, little stray, you could have hit me.” The man said, his voice calm and smooth as honey. He took a few more steps back, then held up his phone. If the way he was holding it was any indication, he was taking a picture.

“Fuck off,” Kai said, fixing the man with a fiery glare. If he could access his powers he’d fry this guy. How the hell was it that all the bad guys these days had vengestone cuffs? Was there some sort of Villain’s Equipment to Defeat a Ninja store he didn’t know about?

“You’re gonna be a difficult little thing, aren’t you?”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Of course he was going to be difficult, he wasn’t just going to watch while this dude did whatever the hell he wanted!

“Don’t worry, I can be patient. It’s the most important thing about this kind of work, you know.”

What kind of work was he referring to, exactly?

“Now, let's get you out of those pesky clothes.”

No way, not happening. Over his dead body.

When the guy tried to come closer, he kicked his legs out as violently as he could, nearly hitting him. The problem with trying to kick while your feet were bound and without feeling, though, was that it wasn’t very easy to do.

The guy didn’t look impressed. He tsked, pulling out a pocket knife. Kai didn’t have the energy to fight back further.

“Hold still,” he said, and gave no other warning before he sliced through the top of Kai’s shirt. The blade nicked his skin.

“Oops,” the guy said, though as it seemed to be with most villains, he didn’t really seem to care at all.

Kai’s shirt was in tatters on the ground before long.

The wound he’d been granted stung, but still, he’d had worse.

What was really bothering him was the strain on his arms from the way they were forced to hold him up. 

“Let me down,” he said, and he didn’t sound very menacing with the way his tongue felt like lead, but he was sure he got the point across.

Snow began to fall, gentle and soft and not at all like it had last year. Last year was all harsh storms and almost blizzards, but this year was the calm after.

“Well, isn’t this just perfect?” His captor asked, looking up at the dark clouds above. “You’re going to stay out here for awhile until you’re ready to be more respectful.”

With that, he turned and walked straight inside the little house. 

Whatever, as soon as Kai was able to feel his limbs, he was going to get off this stupid pole and get out of here.

The only problem was that he was shirtless, wearing thin pants, and it was snowing.

He shivered. He wished he could do more than awkwardly flop around to move, but whatever he’d been drugged with was powerful.

His teeth were chattering violently and it was one of the few things he could feel apart from the cold.

Where was he? Why — how — had this guy even taken him? Why couldn’t he remember anything from before he’d woken up?

He remembered going to bed the previous night, and then nothing. It had to be late afternoon by now, at least. What had happened?

Fuck, it was cold out here. If only he had his powers...

The wind picked up and the snow fell harder. If he was left out here very long he was going to get hypothermia or something. What were the symptoms of that again?

His body was shaking so hard it hurt. Each snowflake that landed on him almost burned.

Was it bad that the small bit of feeling he’d gained was going away?

This was some kind of hell, wasn’t it?

His body fell slack. He just didn’t have the energy to shiver anymore. He was going to die out here...

“Look at you...”

He would have jumped, had he the energy. When had his captor come back out?

“We wouldn’t want you to freeze out here, now would we?”

His eyelids were too heavy to focus on the way his eyes glinted or the way his voice dipped or the way the door was still open or the hell that more than definitely awaited him.

When had he gotten so tired? Hadn’t he just been asleep?

He was removed from the pole and, unable to support himself, toppled to the ground.

It was so cold...

“I’m going to make this plain and simple, little stray. You’re going to get in there, or you’ll die out here.”

He weakly craned his neck to see where “in there” was supposed to be, and—oh. This—this had to be a joke. There was no way he was serious, no one was that crazy.

“Not a fucking chance,” he said, and it was meant to come out confident and angry, if not slurred, not quiet and murmured.

Because that was a dog house. A legitimate fucking dog house. Granted, a nice looking one, but a dog house all the same.

What the fuck was this guy on?

“I’m going to tell you one more time. Get in, or die.”

He would much rather die.

When he made no move to do as he’d been told, his captor shook his head.

“Rescues are always so much harder to train... I don’t see why, but some people prefer them.”

What did that even mean?

Still, he was too tired to keep his eyes fully open, so he didn’t see whatever happened next. 

His eyes slipped shut. He was so tired... he just needed a little nap...

“You see, pet? This is what happens when you’re bad. This poor little stray has chosen to die instead of following a simple instruction. I know you would never be so foolish, of course.”

Who was he talking to? Was someone else there...?

He blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry. It took a moment too long to figure out what he was looking at. Because that person, next to his captor, they almost looked like...

“Cole?”

Cole flinched back, apparently startled. He looked... scared.

His hands went to his neck, ghosting over — what the fuck, what the actual fuck? His brother had a collar around his neck. A collar. Like, a dog collar.

Suddenly, everything his captor had been saying was beginning to make sense.

“Ignore him, pet,” his captor murmured to Cole, who nodded.

What had he done to his brother?

“Last chance, mutt. Get in and live, or stay out here and die.”

Not a chance, he wasn’t going to do that, not with Cole here, not when he needed to help his brother and get them both out of here. Was this where he’d been all this time? With this sicko in the middle of nowhere? Being treated like an animal?

“No,” he growled, wishing more than anything he could call forth his fire and burn this guy to a crisp.

His captor looked at him for a long moment. He glared in retaliation, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Finally, his captor sighed.

“Oh well, then.”

He turned to leave.

“Please just do it!”

His captor whipped his head around so fast he should have gotten whiplash. Cole’s eyes were wide, his hand covering his mouth like he could take it back. He looked terrified.

In this moment, Kai had a choice to make.

If he was going to get them both out of here... he needed to stay alive. And the only way to do that... was to obey. But only for now.

“What’s the one rule, pet, that I hold you to? The one rule?”

Cole removed his hand from his mouth, body trembling and eyes downcast. “No talking without permission.” He whispered.

“That’s right. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry Master, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, please forgive me, I’m sorry.”

Kai wanted to throw up from how readily Cole had begged forgiveness.

“Fine!” He yelled, successfully throwing the attention back on himself. “I’ll do it.” He mumbled.

His captor looked between him and Cole with a growing smile that no doubt meant it would get worse.

“Go on then,” his captor said, “get in.”

This was the absolute most demeaning thing he’d ever done in his life. But it was for Cole. It was all to save Cole.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, barely able to feel his limbs at all. He wouldn’t be able to stand.

The very last thing he wanted to do (aside from actually go through with this) was crawl. But he had no choice, and he certainly wasn’t asking for help.

“Go to hell,” he growled, pushing himself forward on the ground. 

Cole didn’t look at him as he crawled, and he was thankful for that. He didn’t want him to see him like this.

He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to regain feeling in his body and snap these handcuffs off and rip that collar off his brother's neck and crush this psychopath’s skull.

But he couldn’t.

With a huff, he dragged himself into the doghouse. It was actually... kind of warm in here. 

“That’s better,” his captor said, a dark grin on his face. He turned to Cole. “Go inside, pet. We’ll discuss your punishment as soon as I’m done with this mutt.”

Cole, like an obedient little puppy, turned to go inside. Kai wanted to be sick.

“Let me be very, very clear,” his captor said, approaching the doghouse and dropping into a crouch. “If you attempt to be a bad influence on my pet, there will be severe consequences. If you talk back again, there will be severe consequences. If you try to attack me again, there will be severe consequences. Are we clear?”

Kai glared at the man, wanting more than anything to break his stupid, perfect nose. But his hands were cuffed, and he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Oh, and one more thing. I’m your trainer, little stray. Your teacher. You can call me Sir. Now, I’ll ask again. Are. We. Clear?”

As if. There was nothing this man could say that would get him to oblige.

His glare seemed to serve as an answer. His captor sighed, tsking.

“Well then,” he said, snapping a chain around Kai’s ankle. “I guess you can see how you like going to sleep without dinner.”

[rockyscactus]

"i could so kill you right now"; steve rogers x reader

a/n - based on a fic i read awhile ago with the same concept but i literally cant find it anywhere anymore so credits to whoever that amazing writer was !!

"oh steven i could so kill you right now", you spoke through gritted teeth as you threw a punch to the hydra goon in front of you, "if i weren't a little preoccupied."

you heard tony's laughter ring through your comms as he soared above you all, "the government name, you're in the doghouse capsicle!"

"butt out, stark", steve spoke sternly as he fought a few feet away from you.

"i mean, clearly i'm flattered, but why the hell would that be going through your mind right now", you huffed out as you delivered a roundhouse kick to another one.

"it was the heat of the moment", he yelled back.

your and the rest of the teams' gasps fell upon steve's ears.

"NO! not like that! wrong words", you watched as steve's area was free of goons and he leaned over to let out a few breaths of air, "baby if you don't have a reply, let's just pretend i never mentioned anything." steve felt himself growing slightly insecure.

your area became clear as you stopped to look at your boyfriend who seemed to be avoiding your gaze at all costs. before you could say anything sam's voice interrupted your train of thought.

"not to rain on your mildly awkward parade, but we've got a machine gun in the air pointed right at you two", sam spoke as he, tony, and rhodey worked to shoot the plane down.

with your mine still stuck on steve, you hadn't even realized how still you were standing.

"y/n!" steve shouted before lunging his body in front of yours and holding the shield up, awaiting the impact.

you heard sighs flood through the speakers as you made eye contact with a still nervous steve.

"you guys are clear, the plane is out of the air", nat spoke.

steve carefully stood up, holding on to your shoulder to keep you down before determining the area clear on his own terms.

as he pulled you up, his eyes danced everywhere else but yours, worried.

"hey, you can look me in the eyes you dork", you pulled his face to look at yours.

he shot you his infamous lopsided smile, "four years together and you still kinda scare me."

"and i hope i always will", you looked up at him.

"wait, really? but you said--"

you let out a dry laugh, "steve, i'll admit i'm still a recovering primadonna--"

"you'll never fully recover from it, take it from me", tony interrupted.

"not your moment, metal man", bucky's voice rang through.

"says the tin man--"

"okay, they're all banned from speaking", steve took matters into his own hands by removing both his and your earpieces out, "you were saying."

"even though i was pretty blindsided that proposing to me after seeing me choke a guy out was the best you could come up with--"

his hands pinched at your waist, "you're the one always going on about spontaneous moments!"

"are you really using my own words against me right now", you pulled away slightly.

"so back to the 'yes' part", he veered you on.

you tilted your head to the side cockily, "who said anything about me saying yes?"

"oh come on! the look in your eyes when i covered you with the shield was screaming 'yes i'll marry you'", his brooklyn drawl seemed to creep out at the start of your banter.

you smacked his chest, "those were bedroom eyes!"

"so you'll gladly bone me, let me take you out, and force me to come with you to all of your appointments for company; but marriage is where you draw the line?"

" what happens when i want all of my eighty year old casino girlfriends to think i have a boytoy", you quipped as you ran your fingers through his hair.

he let out a laugh at that, "then i'll let you lie!"

"but seriously, dumbass, i'm gonna complain about this proposal for the rest of my life because i'm in a slightly moist tactical suit and you have some guy's blood on your neck!"

"y/n, will you just answer the man", nat interfered as she and the team walked up to meet you two.

you rolled your eyes, "you're right. steve, bucky, clint, and tony are only getting older."

"woah--"

"but yes, if i have to--", you began.

"stop teasing me, i'm doing m' best", steve laughed into your skin as you pulled him close.

"which is why i was always gonna marry you, dumbass."

a/n - i didn't proofread, um dont sue me

[inuyashapridemonth]

We're starting the celebrations early - with fic recs! First up is InuKog, the pairing marked for Day 1. We've listed some of our favourites that feature Inuyasha and Kouga as the main ship below, and hope you find something you enjoy too. These recommendations are sorted by rating (G-E) and include a link, author, and summary. Feel free to share your favourites with us too! We're here to spread the love 💕

I Don’t Mind If You Don’t by Arathergrimreaper [Not Rated] 💖

Kouga can't believe his luck. Inuyasha can't believe this damn wolf. Can they convince the Panther Clan that if you come in this doghouse you're gonna get bit? More importantly, can they do it without getting bit themselves?

After All This Time by I_have_no_shame_1996 [G] 🧡

After Kagome died while giving birth to there child Inuyasha was scarred. He wasn't able to fathom a life without the person he loved. When he looked at his child he realized that this was his reason for living, the thing he loved the most. He left taking the baby with him. No one could find him it has been years yet there's not a single clue. One day Kouga finds a man with black hair holding a child in his arms staring into the lake.

the usual place by chrolloisms [G] 💛

It's been centuries since the jewel was destroyed, Kagome never returning after being sent back to her own era. One night, when visiting the well, Inuyasha receives an unexpected visitor.

The Bloody Moon by Yukio [G] 💚

Obviously scared, Inuyasha runs out of an enchanted forest right into Kouga's arms.

pancakes and racing games by @inukouga [T] 💙

Sesshomaru, (very reluctantly) asks Kouga and Inuyasha to watch Rin for a while.

until you cross the finish line by @gaykagome [T] 💜

High school track star Kouga is good at a lot of things: talking to his e-boy crush Inuyasha without putting his foot in his mouth is not one of those things.

In the Company of Wolves by @mythicamagic [T] 💙

Every place feels like a temporary home for a Hanyou. Kouga offers Inuyasha a welcome respite within his wolf pack. 

if my heart was a house (you'd be home) by@inukouga [T] 💚

"I didn't say anything about you stayin' up for me," He shuts his eyes. "But it’s good to know that you’re worried ‘bout me.” Inuyasha averts his gaze. “...’course I’m worried.” “Oh, are you?” “If you die, who else is gonna keep the rest of the pack from chasin’ me outta here?” “Ah, there he is. I was just about t’ask who you were and where the real Inuyasha was,” Kouga grins.

The Canine Truth by Yukio [M] 💛

After Kouga gets hurt in a fight with Moryoumaru and Inuyasha saves him and takes care of him in a hiding place away from everyone, the two canines have enough time to get to know each other better and maybe even find truth about each other's feelings.

Bodyguard AU (Series) by @dyslexicsquirrel [E] 🧡

What do you do when you're stuck with a bodyguard you hate and unexpectedly go into heat? You fuck the bodyguard, of course.

Wolf Whistles by @wulfintheforest [E] 💖

Years after the well closes, Kagome gets a job at the Wolf Whistle, a western style strip club in Roppongi. Imagine her surprise when her new bosses are a blast from the past.

If you missed the announcement post, click here ❤

Head to the @inuyashapridemonth blog for more information, including our calendar, rules and FAQs ❤

Love is Love, The Mods ♡

[honey-dewey]

The Prince’s Dogs

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/Reader

Word Count: 4,171

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Upon leaving your small village and getting a job in Dorne working for the two princes of Sunspear, you had no idea how much you’d miss one very small yet very pivotal part of your life. The rain. However, being the dog trainer for Prince Oberyn might beat the rain. Might. 

A/N: Have I watched Game of Thrones? Nope! But I’ve started reading the books and read a bit of book 3 with Oberyn, so that’s what this is based off of. Oops. 

Of all the things you missed about home, the rain was what you missed most. Dorne was a fine kingdom with ample sun and the intoxicating smell of salt in the air. But rain was scarce this far south in Sunspear, and you longed for a day where the skies opened and wept, showering the earth.

But the rain was something you could not have, so you settled for a life many would envy. A position in the Dornish palace, dressed in fine clothes rather than your worn out linens. You dearly missed your old home, with the smell of wet dirt and the muddy ground beneath your bare feet, but when your parents had passed, you needed to leave, finding work and income to keep yourself alive.

And you’d found it. You were a servant for the Martell family, although you rarely saw your masters. Doran was always busy, and his younger brother was typically nowhere to be found when he was needed. You’d never met Elia, but the stories were prominent, even to your people. Anyone south of King’s Landing knew all too well the story of Elia Martell.

The Martells treated their servants well. When you’d arrived, they’d put you to work immediately in the kitchens, scrubbing copper kitchenware until your hands were red. The woman who oversaw your work was impressed. Apparently most ended their days with bloodied fingertips. You’d told her you worked with animals day in and day out where you’d come from, and your hands were well prepared for harsh conditions. However, despite the grind, you wore soft clothes. A linen shirt you’d refused to give up, brown pants, and a deep yellow robe you often never wore. You were built for the cold, and Dorne was hot as an oven. A robe would only serve to boil you alive.

You sighed, scrubbing a large cooking pot and dunking it under the water again. Your face was finally legible in the surface, warped and coppery, but legible nonetheless. You hung it to dry alongside the other pots you’d cleaned, turning back yet again to the pile of dirty dishes. You were elbow deep in soapy water when someone exclaimed, “My Prince! I did not see you there!”

“It’s fine my dear,” a honeyed voice said, thick with a Dornish accent. “I did not mean to scare you.”

Hanging another pot, you finally turned to see your visitor.

Prince Oberyn Martell stood by the fire, the flames dancing in his onyx eyes. He smiled at you, and you felt yourself flush. “And this must be the one who keeps my dogs. I’d recognize those hands anywhere.”

You nodded. Once she’d learned you worked dogs in your past, your overseer assigned you to keep the prince’s dogs when you weren’t busy. He had five, all of whom were slender and fast and well trained thanks to you. All the dogs sat by your feet during meals solely because you fed them scraps of your food, and apparently the prince had taken notice. “Yes, I am. Is there a problem with their training?”

Oberyn chuckled. “Quite the contrary, in fact. The girls are swift as ever, and have no hesitation while hunting. Tell me, how did you train them to run through rivers?”

“Food.” It was a true answer. You’d taken the dogs to a shallow pond and baited them across the water, working your way up until you were baiting them across the deepest river you could find. Compared to training dogs in pelting rain, which you had done before, training the dogs to swim fearlessly had been simple.

“Ah,” Oberyn said with a smile. “Food, of course. I suppose this means you’re also the reason Nyx and Artemis are looking a bit rounder than usual?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your dogs are all in perfect health,” you said sternly. “And if two of your ladies are looking too well fed, then I should not be confronted, because I had nothing to do with it.” It was a blatant lie, and you both knew it.

Oberyn put his hands up. “I was merely making an observation,” he said lightly. “I’ll be leaving you to your washing up.”

You did as he left you to do, washing each dish until it shone and then heading to the doghouse. It was big as your old house back home, and all five dogs rushed to the door as you opened it.

“Hello girls!” You said eagerly, kneeling down so they could all nip at your ears and fingers. “How are we today?”

The dogs all dispersed after that. It was late and there was a warm fire, so three of the dogs curled up to sleep. Nyx and Athena stayed awake, wrestling for a toy before Athena grew bored and trotted off to sleep with her sisters. So Nyx found the next best thing to play with. You.

You wrestled Nyx for the toy, rolling around on the ground and laughing as she growled at you. You growled right back, shaking the toy and coaxing Nyx to drop it. She did, and you tossed it across the room for her to chase after. Nyx was the leader of the pack, the biggest and the oldest. Her muzzle was streaked with grey, but her black and white coat still shone with youth and her eyes sparkled when she was playing. She would always be a puppy at heart.

She returned the toy to you, and you took it. Nyx snapped her jaws at you in an attempt to take the toy, but you pulled it away quickly. “Absolutely not!” You said firmly. “We don’t snatch.” You made Nyx sit, her eyes trained on her toy the entire time. When you finally threw it again, she caught it and trotted right past you with it, dropping it obediently at the feet of her master.

You stood quickly, nearly tripping over yourself as you did so. You knew you looked a mess. Covered from head to foot in dog fur and saliva, your sleeves were still damp from washing dishes and your feet were bare, as they always were. Your hair, which you’d grown long upon arriving in Dorne, was a mess of tangles. Your morning’s braid was long gone.

But the prince didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he scratched Nyx behind the ears and tossed her toy, sending her joyously chasing after it. “I figured I’d find you here,” he said. “The guards said you liked to put the dogs to bed every night.”

You nodded, relaxing a bit as Oberyn sat on a bench and gestured you to his side. Nyx followed you, sitting practically on your feet as you sat. You absently scratched under her ornate collar, hearing her foot thump the ground as you found the sweat spot to scratch. Oberyn smiled as Nyx squirmed under your hands. “You work the girls well.”

“It was my job back home,” you admitted. “I worked the hunting dogs. They were stockier and slower than yours, but could take down anything they wanted. Training them was a task, especially during the rainy season.”

Oberyn nodded slowly. “My girls are bred for speed,” he said. “Their mother was a gift given to my sister, and she bore me my puppies.”

You tried to imagine Oberyn cradling a tiny puppy. His hands were bigger than yours, and a puppy would probably fit in his palm. “Is the mother still alive?”

“Died of age years ago,” Oberyn said. “Right after bearing Persephone’s litter.”

The beautiful dark red dog looked up when Oberyn said her name, but went back to sleep shortly after.

“And what happened to the other puppies?”

“I got pick of the litter,” Oberyn said, smoothing a hand over Nyx’s head. “And the other puppies were given to knights or to houses who’ve sworn loyalty.”

You nodded. “These five were incredibly lucky.”

Oberyn smiled. “Two of them were the youngest born, and one was a runt.”

Both of your gazes went to the dogs curled around the fire. “Was it Artemis?” The blue dog had always been smaller than her sisters, but she had never been any less impressive.

“No.” Oberyn stood, sitting cross legged beside the fire and looking warmly at his dogs. “Athena was the youngest born in her litter, but wasn’t a runt by any means. Nyx was my first dog, the biggest in her litter of course. Persephone was a middle born, and I chose her for her fighter’s spirit. Artemis, bless her, was second youngest in her litter but she was an average size. No, it was Hestia who was a runt. She was so small, we all feared she’d die in the night. I fed her myself, with a rag soaked in milk, for months.”

You nodded, sitting on the other side of the fire and stroking Hestia’s silky ears. She was the best suited for hunting, with her dark brindle pattern and keen blue eyes. “She’s a magnificent dog.”

“She is.”

For the better part of the night, you and Oberyn sat in silence around the fire until it was nothing more than embers. All the dogs were long asleep, and the only reason you didn’t join them was because the room was stiflingly hot. Oberyn looked at peace in the heat, and actually seemed surprised when you got up to sit next to the cracked window. “Are you warm?”

“I’m boiling,” you said. “Dorne is a beautiful place, but must it be so damned hot?”

“Oh? And where do you come from that would justify Dorne being hot as the ovens you work in front of?” Oberyn asked, tipping his head ever so slightly.

You tucked your feet up under your body, leaning against the windowsill and looking out across the Sea of Dorne. “I come from a place where no man rules. My people have been there for generations and will remain there for generations. The land is firm beneath our feet, it’s why we all go barefoot. We have three seasons. The winters, the summers, and the rain. Each turn, between the winters and the summers, it rains. It rains a lot. No one is ever deterred by the rain, as it’s warm, so unlike the freezing rain in the mountains. We were barely fifty houses strong when I left, but our land stretches as far as the eye can see. Flat expanses of green, and in the summers the fields bloom with every kind of flower imaginable. It is a beautiful sight, and if you travel far enough east, you can see the shadows of the Dornish Mountains.” As you spoke, you grew only more homesick, wishing you could plant your feet in the mud and breathe, just breathe in the open air. Dorne’s air smelled of ocean and fish, and you craved the wetness of the petrichor smell you’d grown up with.

Oberyn joined you by the window, looking out at the glowing moon hung high in the sky. “What would you give to return?”

“Everything.”

It was an answer that seemed to stun the youngest Martell sibling. He blinked, still gazing at the moon. “Of course,” he said softly. “Of course.”

The next day, you spent all morning in the great hall, feeding the dogs under the table and reading a book you’d bought in town. Doran and Oberyn sat at the head of the hall together, arguing, but you couldn’t hear them, nor did you care to. You merely flipped a page in your book and fed Hestia another scrap of bacon.

Halfway through your day, you were interrupted in your washing of linens by the lake. Oberyn rode up to you, two horses and all his dogs by his side. “Come.”

You stood, dusting off your pants. “Where to?” You asked. “I doubt I’ll be much use on a hunting trip.”

Oberyn handed you the reins of a horse you’d trained early in your days of working in Dorne. “I’m taking you home.”

You went eagerly after that. You may have been wary, but Oberyn was sincere enough that you trusted him. The dogs followed you, ever the obedient hunters you had trained, as you and him rode hard northward, stopping to make camp as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

“Why are you joining me?” You asked once you’d made camp. “You could’ve sent me on my way, alone.”

Oberyn considered your words, turning meat over the fire. “You fascinate me,” he finally admitted. “You want for nothing in Dorne, and yet you are more homesick than anyone I’ve ever met. You talk about your home as if there is no better place to be. I want to see if you’re right.”

You grinned. “You’ll need firmer clothes than that,” you said, gesturing to Oberyn’s ornate robe. “It’s nearly rain season. Anything that isn’t made to stand up to the water will be ruined.”

Oberyn ran the fabric through his fingers, nodding. “What should I wear?”

“There’s a town not far from my home,” you said. “We’ll find you some suitable clothes there.”

The town in question was a three day ride away. While you rode, you and Oberyn got to know each other. He talked happily about his daughters, never favoring one over the other and seeming proud to have bore them all. In return, you told him about your parents, despite both of them being deceased. He was a good listener, hardly ever interrupting. As the weather grew colder and a wet chill filled the air, you felt yourself getting more comfortable, more at home.

The town finally loomed in the distance after three days on horseback, only stopping to rest the dogs or the horses. You were familiar with everyone, happily chatting to the townsfolk while you browsed thick clothes for Oberyn. He kept the hood of a roughly made cloak over his head, concealing his identity as he watched you make decisions. Finally, you walked away with a sturdy linen shirt that matched yours, reinforced brown pants, and a thick robe that mimicked the Dornish style while also remaining functional. It didn’t fall to Oberyn’s ankles as his vibrant yellow one did, the new faded deep green one stopping just above his knee. He grumbled about the color, but you hushed him as you donned a similar coat in faded burgundy.

As you continued east, the threat of rain grew stronger. You could smell it now, the rain heavy clouds a swirl of deep blue grey on the sky. Artemis whined when a distant rumble of thunder sounded, but you hushed her gently and nudged the horse forward. “We’re not far off. We’ll beat the rain.”

You were right. The village came into view before the rain started, and you quickly ushered the five dogs and one Dornish Prince into your family’s home as warm summer rain began to fall.

Oberyn stared at the ceiling in wonder as the rain began to pound. “Will it hold?”

“It’s held for three generations,” you said, putting logs into a fireplace and looking for your flint. “It’ll continue to hold, that I can swear.”

Once you got a fire going and some food set out for the dogs, you went outside. Oberyn tried to stop you, but you ignored him, opting to stand out back of the house instead. Rain soaked you to the bone immediately, but you didn’t care. The rain was warm and comforting, like being hugged by an old friend. Your hair slicked to your head and your clothes were sticking to your skin, but you simply tipped your head to the heavens and smiled.

You were out for a surprisingly long time before Oberyn braved the rain. He shielded his eyes and stood beside you, shoulders hunched. “Are you going to come back inside? You’ll catch a chill if you stay out here much longer!”

You shook your head. “No I won’t,” you said, looking over when a crack of thunder interrupted you. “Relax Oberyn, it’s only rain.”

Eventually, Oberyn loosened, standing next to you and admiring the rain. When he spoke again, his voice was full of wonder. “You worked in these conditions?”

You nodded. “Sometimes, the rain lasts for weeks,” you said. “We need to hunt, eat, and gather, so yes. I worked in the rain a lot.”

A bell sounded in the distance, and Oberyn looked over, shielding his eyes. “What’s that?”

“Dinner!” You said eagerly, taking his hand. “Come on. You want to see what I love about home? I’ll show you.”

The dinner hall was a sturdy building, bigger than the others. People filtered in, all soaked from the rain, so yours and Oberyn’s wet state wasn’t unusual.

“The dog keeper is home!” Someone said cheerily, seeing you showing Oberyn how to quickly towel his hair dry. Immediately, people began to crowd you, hugging you and asking why you’d returned.

“Oh,” you said, squeezing water out of your coat. “Someone asked me where I came from that would justify me calling Dorne hot as an oven. I felt compelled to show him.” You looped an arm through Oberyn’s elbow, and he looked at people you’d spent your entire life surrounded by.

“Is that Prince Oberyn Martell?” Someone finally asked in a hushed tone.

You shrugged. “Maybe in Dorne he is,” you said. “But out here, he’s just Oberyn.”

Oberyn seemed grateful, and you pulled him to a table. Food was passed around, and the conversation picked up once more. With the warm fire blazing at the front of the hall and the fall of rain against the roof, you felt more at home than you’d ever been. The people around you were your age, and they pushed you for questions about Dorne.

“Oh it’s beautiful,” you said, stirring your stew and dipping your slice of bread into your bowl. “But it’s so hot! I don’t know how those Dornishmen survive the heat in their robes!”

“We’re born there,” Oberyn said, bumping elbows with you. “Unlike you, that heat is all we’ve known.”

You grinned. “I will say, they let me play with the Prince’s dogs, so it’s not all bad.”

“Play?” Oberyn said, stunned. “You trained all the dogs! Let me tell you,” he said, turning to the people around you. “I’ve never met a better dog trainer in my life. If they weren’t so insistent upon working in the kitchens, I’d have promoted them to full time animal trainer already! Lord knows our horses need the firm hand.”

The people around you began to tell Oberyn about your past while you ate, happily telling him about how you’d once trained the village dogs to hunt in the pouring rain by slathering yourself in animal fat and racing through the woods while they hunted you down during the rainy season.

“Is that what you did with my dogs?” He asked when the story was done.

You shrugged. “More or less,” you said. “I take bits of my own breakfast and bait the girls. I told you, that was how I got them to swim so fearlessly.”

Oberyn nodded. “You know you could just ask for more food if you’re going to be sacrificing your own breakfast for my dogs.”

Another shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Did you bring the dogs?” Someone asked, and you nodded.

“Of course!” You said. “I’ll let the young ones play with them tomorrow if this rain lets up. Although, it is what I missed most.”

“The rain?” The person sitting across from you asked. “Does it not rain in Dorne?”

You sighed, mopping up the last remnants of stew with bread you’d taken from Oberyn. “Not enough,” you said wistfully. “The most it’s rained since I moved there was an hour’s worth of mild rain. And it only rains once every month! It’s hell.”

After dinner came dessert, a sweet pastry filled with oozing red berries and topped with sticky honey. It wasn’t something that was made very often, and you ate yours quickly, savoring the flavors. Oberyn was more hesitant, and was a bit more dignified. However, no amount of dignity saved him from the fruit juices dripping down his chin and you laughing at him while handing him something to wipe his face.

After all the food was eaten, you bid everyone goodbye and braved the rain yet again. It was lighter now, and the children were chasing each other around, happily shouting and playing with the sturdy village hunting dogs. There was no rush for anything, and you didn’t hurry home. Instead, you walked slowly, despite the light rain, taking in all that you’d lost when you left. Oberyn held your hand, the hood of his robe pulled up over his head. He looked at ease here.

When you reached your house, the rain was no more than a light mist, and you eagerly pulled Oberyn around back. The sun was almost gone, but the final rays soaked the land in gold, illuminating the rolling hills and picturesque plains.

“Take a deep breath,” you said softly, seeing Oberyn’s eyes go wide. “And tell me what you smell.”

Oberyn took a breath, staying silent for a moment. “I can’t describe it,” he said, voice soft with awe. “It smells like earth and water and something not of this world.”

“It’s called petrichor,” you said. “The smell of rain on dry soil.”

A delicate silence lapsed over you two, bound only by your connected hands as you watched the sun fully set. Once the sky was dark, you pulled Oberyn inside, handing him a towel so he could dry off.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, stripping out of your soaked clothes and hanging them to dry on a line.

Oberyn, who was in another room for privacy, made a small noise. “I don’t know. A week? I must return at some point.”

You smiled, pulling on a linen shift and tossing another log into the fire that the dogs were surrounding. “I agree. I suppose the girls I work with will be disappointed if I don’t return.”

Oberyn came out of the room wearing a shift identical to yours. He began to hang his clothes beside yours. “It’s nice here,” he said. “I don’t know why anyone would ever want to leave.”

“I didn’t,” you reminded him. “If I’d been able to, I would’ve stayed here all my life. But then I would’ve never met you or your dogs.”

Oberyn smiled, sitting beside the dogs and gesturing you close. You sat with him, facing the fire. Hestia woke up, set her head in your lap, and fell asleep immediately after. You stroked her ears, humming to yourself. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

“Thank you for allowing me to come along,” Oberyn replied.

As you grew more and more tired, you finally relented and stood to go to sleep. “You’re welcome to join me,” you said to Oberyn. “I apologize, but there’s only one bed.”

Oberyn stood. “It’s fine. We can share.”

You took the right side of the bed and Oneryn took the left, you giving him an extra blanket when he started to shiver. His chills never faded, and you did the only thing left. You shifted in the bed, curling up against Oberyn’s chest and wrapping your arms around his middle, giving him your body heat.

“Your Dornish blood is at a cruel disadvantage out here,” you said softly, and you felt Oberyn chuckle.

“I’ll just have to adapt,” he murmured.

The next morning, you woke to no rain and a perfectly blue sky. Oberyn stayed asleep as you got dressed, made breakfast, and let the dogs out to play with the eagerly waiting children. As Oberyn’s dogs raced off to entertain the kids, you sat beside an open window, waiting for Oberyn to wake up.

When he finally did, he sat across from you at the tiny table and slowly began to eat, blinking sleepily at you from time to time.

“Good morning sleepy head,” you said finally, once the food had all been eaten and Oberyn looked a bit more awake. “How’d you sleep?”

Oberyn looked up at you. “Great. Where are the girls?”

“Outside with the kids,” you said, pointing out the window, where you could see the dogs running around with the children. “We’ll hunt them later, but for now, let them have their fun.”

“Ah.” Oberyn nodded. “Okay. So what do we do?”

You shrugged. “Typically, I’d have been working for a while by now.”

“We could work.”

“With those hands?” You said, taking Oberyn’s hands in your own. “Your skin isn’t accustomed to my kind of work, it would split immediately.”

Oberyn smiled. “So what do we do?” He asked again.

You squeezed his hands. “Whatever we want, Oberyn.”

“What if I want to go back to bed with you by my side?” Oberyn asked.

“Well then.” You stood, shedding your coat. “I guess we better get going.”

[kikis-writing-world]

Sunflowers and Pink Roses

A/N: Full disclosure: I’ve never seen The Mentalist. Anything I know about Marcus is from y’all on here. So I know he’s sweet, romantic and deserved better™. I dunno, I had this fluffy idea and it just seemed him... apologies if I got his characterization way off since this is basically the fic version of broken telephone.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Rating/Warnings: PG - It’s super tame, I only even say PG because I think there’s one F-bomb in it. Also not thoroughly edited as usual.

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re still painfully single. Marcus happens to notice.

It was February.

More specifically, the second week of February.

February 14th to be exact.

Valentine’s Day.

You wouldn’t say you hated the holiday, but there weren’t a lot of days that strived to remind you just how single you were. You didn’t mind being single most of the time. You were a strong independent woman raised on Charlie’s Angels, Princess Leia, Miss Piggy. Like Destiny’s Child sang, “I depend on me!” You didn’t need a man to depend on for your happiness.

All of that didn’t stop you from watching those stupid Hallmark Romcoms with glossy eyes and an open yet slightly broken heart. You selfishly wanted someone who would look at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Someone who would send you good morning and good night texts, buy you little trinkets just because. Not to mention you wanted someone to do the same for. Someone you would think about during the day with a secret smile. You had all the love to give, just nowhere to direct it. At least not yet.

So on February 14th, you plastered the smile on your face with a little more force than usually needed. The water cooler gossip was mostly about who had what reservations where, what lovely things they had planned for the evening. You ignored the red and pink hearts hanging festively along the walls, trying to focus instead on the fact that tomorrow there would be a massive sale on candy and chocolates. Just keep your head down and make it through this one day.

The first bouquet arrived with a ding of the elevator, barely past ten in the morning. It was a modest bouquet of whites and reds. All eyes watched it as the delivery was carried through the office and placed on a coworker’s desk. A gift from her husband. The women fawned over the bouquet and you even offered a polite smile to Jenna, but ultimately turned back to work to tune it out.

The next gift was barely 30 minutes later: a white teddy bear carrying a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a balloon tied around it’s waist deposited on Petra’s desk.

Then chocolates for Selena.

Roses for Anton.

Bouquet for Rhonda.

Cookies for Tanya.

You lost count, but you couldn’t help but watch with envy as each gift was carried past, giggles and chatter following it. Maybe next year.

~☆*☆*☆~

Marcus loved Valentine’s day. He loved it more when he had someone to share it with, someone to dote on, but he still loved the sentiment behind it nonetheless. He watched from his office with a smile each time a new gift was deposited on someone’s desk. The happiness he felt carried a small sting, a reminder of the relationships of the past, but it faded fairly quickly as he shared in the happiness of his coworkers.

He had thought about trying to find a date for the night, trying out one of those dating apps he always heard about, but it felt forced. He wanted that romance but he wanted it organically. He wanted to meet someone at his local coffee shop or at a museum. In a library or at the park. Shy conversations while he worked up the nerve to ask for her number. Wondering how long to wait until he called. Worrying about how many dates until it was acceptable to kiss her. Despite the pain of past heartbreak, he knew when the time was right he’d find the one.

He watched with another grin as a massive, bright bouquet of pink, red and orange flowers was carried through the office. It was a little much for his tastes, he preferred something small that made a statement. He held pride in finding out his partner’s favorite flower or colour, using that information to personalize a gift like that.

As he watched the bouquet cross the floor to Indira’s desk, his eyes fell to your face. Your desk was opposite the windows to his office, so it wasn’t uncommon for his eyes to fall on you as he worked. Even through the window and across the 10 feet or so to your desk, he could read your expression like a book. You watched the flowers pass with a wistful envy before offering Indira a tight smile. You turned back to your work, smile falling and a crease appearing on your brow. Marcus was familiar with that expression because he had definitely made it before.

He leaned up in his chair, trying to sneak a look at your desk. He didn’t see flowers, stuffed animals, chocolates. Nothing left there by a loved one to brighten your day. He leaned back, trying to think if any of the office gossip he’d heard recently mentioned if you had a partner. He knew you weren’t married, not that he’d ever admit to subtly checking your hand for a wedding ring. He was technically your boss, your direct superior, and he knew first hand how messy dating a coworker could get. Yes, he thought you were pretty. And funny. And charming. And had a smile that could light up the room- He’d convinced himself plenty of times not to pursue it further, not wanting to get tangled in another workplace romance.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought, but as the elevator dinged with another delivery he watched the resigned envy cross your face once more.

~☆*☆*☆~

The end of the day was nearing. You’d been wondering earlier this morning if you could get away with sneaking out a little early. Luckily the deliveries had slowed down around 2:00, along with the fanfare that came with them. You just had to get through the next 30 minutes and you could head home, put on sweats, and eat the cookie dough that was waiting in the fridge.

A ding from the elevator had you look up, yet another beautiful bouquet walking through the room. It wasn’t as extravagant as some of the ones that had come through today, but it had an understated elegance to it. The sunflowers seemed to glow around the delicate pink roses, a beautiful combination sitting in a clear vase with a white ribbon tied around it. You weren’t sure who they were for, it seemed most of the desks in the office already had flowers or gifts of some kind on it. You were shocked when you heard the young delivery boy say your name. Mary Ellen smiled brightly and pointed your way.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you noticed everyone’s eyes on you, a few of the women bold enough to follow the teen over to your desk. You nodded dumbly as he confirmed your name, setting the flowers down with a mumbled “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” Selena cooed, brushing her hand lightly against the flowers.

“I-I’m not.” You shook your head, staring at the beautiful flowers.

“A secret admirer?” Mary Ellen gasped, holding her hands under her chin. “That’s so romantic.”

“Is there a card?” Rhonda asked.

“Here!” Selena had found the little piece of cardstock among the stems, handing it over.

You bit your lip as you opened it, having no idea what to expect. You didn’t recognize the penmanship, but it could have easily been written by the florist.

~☆*☆*☆~

“Are you for real?” The guy on the phone laughed, his thick accent mocking Marcus. “It’s the second busiest day of the year and you wanna place an order now? You must be really stupid if you forgot Valentine’s Day.” The man continued to laugh.

“Look, I need it delivered before 5:00.” This was the fourth place he’d called, most of them laughing and hanging up on him. “Is that something you can do?”

“Oooh, that’s gonna cost ya. Big.”

“That’s fine.” Marcus sighed, leaning over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Okay, we don’t got much left-”

“Sunflowers?” Marcus asked. He wasn’t even sure what drew him to that flower at first, the request was out of his mouth before he really thought about it.

“Gimme a sec.” The man told him, gruff voice fading as Marcus heard him yell. “Hey Martha! We got any sunflowers left?”

Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he heard the back and forth on the other end of the line.

“Martha’s got sunflowers. Says she’s got a few extra pink roses she can throw in with ‘em. That work?”

“Yes! Perfect!”

“Whatd’ya want on the card?”

“The card?” Marcus parroted. He hadn’t thought about writing anything.

“You’re orderin’ a last minute bouquet, you better become Shakespeare real fuckin’ quick if you wanna stay out of the doghouse, loverboy.”

“Uhh…” He stuttered trying to find the right words.

“I ain’t got all day.” The man huffed. “Second busiest day of the year.” He reminded him.

“Uh, make it say… uh…”

~☆*☆*☆~

“Some may be intimidated by your shine But someone will come along and make you shine even brighter And they will be worth the wait”

“Wow.” Rhonda swooned. “That’s so sweet.”

“Is it signed from anyone?” Selena asked.

“No. That’s it.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It was beautiful.

“Oooh, secret admirer! Mary Ellen, you were right!” Rhonda sang. “This is so exciting.”

“Who do you think it is?” Anton leaned over from his desk to ask. You hadn’t even realized he was listening in.

“I-I have no idea.” You stuttered. It was true. “I wish I knew, so I could thank them or something.”

“Something alright.” Selena purred, making everyone shriek and giggle as you flushed.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” The voice cut through the giggles, making everyone sober up. Marcus was standing just outside his office door, hands in his pockets.

“Nothing. Just some Valentine’s Day magic.” Rhonda trilled. The giggles resumed, much quieter this time, as everyone fluttered back to their own desks to return to work.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip, embarrassed that the excitement had disrupted your boss.

“It’s okay.” Marcus chuckled, toeing at the carpet of the office for a moment. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He teased with a grin, putting you at ease.

“Yessir, Special Agent Pike.” You mock saluted, making him chuckle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too.”

tagging: @wickedfrsgrl​

[nevervalentines]

in which jamie forgets an anniversary and dani burns dinner. 

She wasn’t drunk when she started, but that was two glasses of wine ago, before she had burnt the first sirloin, and before Jamie had called to tell her she would be late.

Of the two of them, Dani was the better cook, but this wasn’t accounting for a new recipe borrowed out of one of Agnes’s yellowed cookbooks, dogeared and oil-spattered. This wasn’t accounting for the uneven burners on the ancient gas stove, for Jamie’s unexpected delay or for the cloudy, white wine induced fog that had descended on her quite suddenly, all things considered.

Making a simple pan sauce didn’t seem quite so hard on late night reruns when Julia Child was doing it, but searing off the meat was supposed to be the easy part, and here she was peering into the saucepan like she is trying to read tea leaves at the bottom of a cup.

She’s so focused on browning the steak, she almost doesn’t hear the door unlock, but Jamie drops her bag with a clunk just over the threshold, and Dani’s head swivels toward the kitchen door. Even without seeing her, Dani can picture the way Jamie will kick off her shoes, rifle a hand through her curls, toss her keys into the tiny, clay bowl sitting in the foyer.

There’s the pad of socked feet then, called from a few rooms away, “Is something burning, Dani?”

Two glasses of wine ago, that might not have stung. But now, armed with a wooden spoon and a little strung out from the alcohol-flush and the heat of the stove, it digs the knife a little deeper.

She clicks off the burner and turns just as Jamie graces the entryway, looking dashing and night-air ruffled, smelling a little like cigarette smoke, and a lot like the pub a few blocks away.

Jamie’s face breaks into a smile when she sees her, and even through her hurt, Dani finds herself a little enamored to see it. It dimples her cheeks in all the best ways, gives her chin that roguish, endearing tilt.

Her sleeves are pushed up above her elbows, a patchy, worn flannel sloppily tucked in, half-unbuttoned over one of her soft, thermal Henley’s that Dani loves so well.

Conversely, Dani thinks she must look something of a mess – nearly the suburban caricature she was always secretly terrified she would become:

Like the harried, half-forgotten wife, spending evenings in front of a stove, herding children and chores until a husband stumbles in at half past seven on their anniversary.

And it’s not that Jamie has ever made her feel like that, or meant to. They are equals in everything, and most nights, it’s Dani who urges them to go out more, drags them to movie showings or those cheesy neighborhood block parties every third Wednesday.

But like this, feeling frustrated and a little stood up, those fears creep in – like she’s back in the Midwest, watching a wedding day approach as the world moves in double-speed around her.

She can tell Jamie doesn’t know yet that she’s in trouble. If she did, she would have showed up sheepish, maybe armed with flowers, and wouldn’t have beelined across the kitchen for a kiss with so much confidence.

Dani turns her head at the last second, and Jamie’s mouth catches her nearly at her hairline, almost on her ear. Only does then does Jamie pull back to look at Dani, puzzled. Brow furrowed; her mouth pursed into a pout. Looking at her, Dani feels even more of her latent annoyance seeping away.

“What was that for?” Jamie asks. She reaches for Dani, fits two hands on her waist over the hemline of her skirt, tries to pull her to her.

Dani resists, and Jamie drops her hands, steps back.

Jamie looks around the kitchen, searching. Looking like she had showed up to a pop-quiz sans pencil, paper or even the faintest clue what class she was in.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s –” Dani crosses her arms over her stomach, feels suddenly and terribly like she might cry. “I just – you’re late.”

“I’m late?” Jamie looks at Dani hard, then at the singed meat at the top of the garbage pail, the half empty bottle of wine on the counter. “Are you drunk?”

Dani shakes head her head. Reconsiders. Nods. “Only a little.”

“This is a bit of a fancy dinner you have in the works,” Jamie says. She tucks her bottom lip into her mouth. “Baby, I told you the guys wanted to buy me a drink after work and I could fend for myself, remember?”

Dani steels herself. Clears her throat.

“We had said we would celebrate the anniversary tonight.” She blurts it out, all at once, squeezes her eyes shut. “We talked about it last week, and I said I would make dinner and you said that sounds great, and I said great, and then I, well –”

She flaps her hand around the kitchen.

“I didn’t know how to remind you when you called without sounding,” her voice drops here, “well, nagging, I guess.”

Jamie’s eyes go wide, and the memory of the conversation seems to hit like a punch to the stomach.

“Oh, shit.” She brings a hand to her mouth, looking around at the kitchen with fresh eyes, the bunches of rosemary and thyme on the counter, the open cookbook. “Oh, shit.”

“I should have said,” Dani says weakly. “It’s really not a big deal. I just thought you might remember.”

And it wasn’t a big deal, it really wasn’t. Wasn’t even a proper anniversary, just six months since they signed the lease on the rental, six months since they decided they might settle here for a while. Take it one day at a time, see what happened.

It’s not a big deal, it can’t be. But, well, Dani wasn’t used to wanting to celebrate these sorts of things. Had used to feel a vague embarrassment every time Edmund insisted they celebrate a landmark. She cringed away from Valentine’s Days, and chocolates, and any sort of romantic gesture.

It had confused her to make such a show of the passage of time, really. Who wants an award for standing still?

But this – this had been different, somehow. And looking at the kitchen, knowing the dining table was set in the next room, made her feel flush and stupid. Christ, she had even lit a candle.

“I can just clean it up,” she said, watching Jamie’s face go through the five stages of grief at an astonishing speed. “We can just put a movie on.”

“Baby, baby, no.” Jamie reaches for her, and this time Dani lets her pull her into her arms, buries her face in Jamie’s shoulder. “This is my fault. I’m so sorry.” She chafes her hands at the back of Dani’s sweater, turns her cheek against her hair.

“With the store opening and everything, I completely just lost track of things.” She unearths Dani from her embrace to look her in the eyes, cheeks a little flush, mouth downturned. “That’s not okay.” A hand smooths Dani’s hair back from her face, thumbs at the corner of her mouth. “You are my first priority, always. I fucked up.”

“We just had opening day last week,” Dani says, sniffling a little, trying for a tremulous smile. “It’s so not a big deal. The shop – ”

“Fuck the shop,” Jamie says, cups her face in her hands.

This close, Dani can count her eyelashes. Having her in kissing distance always makes it hard to concentrate, and Jamie doesn’t help the issue, ducking in to press her lips at the corner of her mouth, like she’s making up for any earlier missed opportunities.

“I never would have gone to the pub if I remembered, you know that right?” She punctuates the question with another kiss, half on her chin. “I was jiggling my knee the whole time, just waiting until I could make an excuse to get back to you.”

Dani rocks to tiptoe, kisses her flush on the mouth, rocks back down.

“I didn’t even have a drink,” Jamie whispers, noses in. “But it seems like somebody had enough for both of us.”

“Only two glasses,” Dani mumbles. She turns her face into Jamie’s hand, presses a kiss to her palm.

“Why don’t I pour you another,” Jamie says, runs her eyes down Dani’s body like a touch, face sharp with interest, but a crease still disrupting her brow. “I would offer to finish up dinner, but neither of us want that.”

“Are you still hungry?”

“Randy’s shitty bar food has nothing on you,” Jamie says. Then, quickly, “Your cooking I mean.” The tips of her ears flush scarlet. “I know I’m not out of the doghouse yet.”

A laugh bubbles up from Dani’s chest, and she swats at Jamie, nudges her toward the kitchenette table. “I’ll finish dinner if you keep me company.”

Eagerly, Jamie rushes to obey. “To be safe, I think I might just not let you out of my sight again,” she says.

Dani turns back to the stove, reaches to fetch another wine glass from the shelf. Smiles. “Deal.”

**

Jamie drags a stool up to the counter to watch her cook. Chin propped in her cupped palm, she looked up at Dani adoringly, her whole body oriented toward her, socked feet tapping on the rungs.

The second steak was salvageable, and Dani leaves it marinating in the same brown butter and herbs it was basted in, heating a clean skillet to prepare the pan sauce under Jamie’s watchful eye.

She tops off Jamie’s glass as it does, then her own. Derailed, somewhat, by Jamie’s mouth on the lip of the wine glass, her quiet hum of pleasure as the wine touches her tongue.

“You’re being unfair,” Dani murmurs, turns back to the pan, begins to sweat the shallots, letting a few cloves of crushed garlic slide into the hot oil.

“Quiet,” Jamie says. Takes another sip, a little showy this time, catching on. “I’m learning.”

She cradles the glass languidly in her palm, twirls the stem as she watches Dani’s profile, studying her in that keen, fond way she does, even when Dani is doing something especially mundane – like folding laundry, or turning the pages of a book.

Dani peeks at her out of the corner of her eye. “You’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Jamie,” she says, a little chastising, a little pleased. “Stop it.”

She watches Jamie take another sip, the pulse of her throat, the perfect line of it, a bruise that might be a love bite hidden under the fall of her curls.

“I’m not doing anything.”

It’s definitely a hickey. Racking her brain, Dani thinks she can remember the moment from the day before, remembers Jamie, flush with some sort of shop-related victory, clambering on top of her on the living room floor. Scattering puzzle pieces and throw pillows to rub her face in Dani’s neck. Can remember how fast the tables turns once she got on top.

“You alright?” Jamie asks.

Dani realizes she has been clutching a little desperately at the beef stock for the past thirty seconds and jump starts her brain with a squeeze of the carton.

“Fine, just thinking.” She hopes, uselessly, that Jamie doesn’t call her on it. She should know better, really.

“About what?”

Glugging the carton into the pan, she deglazes with the stock and a healthy pour of red wine, produced from its hiding place behind the pasta.

“Just,” a flap of her hand, “the recipe.”

Jamie reaches from her perch, peels the bottle from Dani’s hand, and takes a long swig. She emerges from the throat of the bottle with a sideways smile and a curl of her fingers, beckoning.

“Come give me a kiss.”

“I’m cooking,” Dani says. “Just because you burn everything, doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Oh, cheeky,” Jamie crows, delighted. Anytime Dani bites back, she gets a look on her face, like she ordered a tuna sandwich and was delivered a four-course-meal. She reaches for her, a little pouty, abandoning her glass of wine to dedicate both hands to reeling Dani in. “Just a little kiss, Dani. What could it hurt?”

“My painstakingly prepared meal,” Dani mumbles, but lets herself drift within arm’s reach, finds herself corralled between Jamie’s knees, finds Jamie’s arms wrapping around her neck.

“Love me a little bit,” Jamie says, noses in until their lips are almost touching. Waits. “Just a little kiss.”

This close, Dani can’t say no, isn’t even sure if she has the capacity. She closes the gap, finds the taste of wine on Jamie’s tongue, lets her hands drop to her waist and cup, pull her close.

“I’m sorry again,” Jamie murmurs, catches her bottom lip in her teeth, bites down soft. Dani hums low in her throat, pressing close enough that the metal of Jamie’s belt buckle digs into her stomach.

“You’re forgiven,” Dani manages in between kisses. She turns her head to the side to catch her breath, leaving her neck vulnerable to Jamie’s mouth and teeth and, most troublesome, her tongue, licking a hot, wet line up the column of Dani’s throat.

“The sauce –”

“It’s fine,” Jamie says, drags her mouth to Dani’s chin-jaw-cheek, catches her lips in another kiss. Her hands clutch, move lower to palm roughly at Dani’s skirt.

“It’ll burn,” Dani gasps, slips her tongue in Jamie’s mouth anyway, feels an electric jolt in her stomach, the satisfaction of Jamie’s muted gasp.

“I’m not stopping you,” this said against her cheek, fingers deftly untucking her sweater to splay wide across the warm skin of her back.

Dani lets the kiss drag a moment longer, Jamie’s tongue stroking into her mouth until her body is buzzing in that tuning-fork pitch, Jamie’s touch setting her humming. With a groan, she wrenches away, untangles herself from Jamie’s legs and moves for the stove, a little sluggish.

She lowers the heat of the burner, scrapes the spoon through the reduction, pleased to find it hasn’t stuck to the bottom the way she worried it would. Jamie makes a loud noise of protest, reaching for her wine and draining it a long, steady draw, eyes still fixed on Dani.

Surfacing, she frowns. “No fair, Poppins.”

“Consider this your punishment,” Dani says absently, drops a hunk of butter into the pan, melting into a beaded, oil slick.

“Oh, yeah?” Jamie’s mouth turns up, a little impish. “How else are you going to punish me?”

“Oh my God.” Dani jerks her chin to face her, cheeks flushing. “Jamie.”

Both hands up in surrender, lips pinching. “Just a thought.”

Dani levels Jamie with her best scolding teacher face, lips pursed, brow furrowed, then – “Hey, wait.” Twists her hand around to her back. “Jamie, did you undo my bra?”

Leaning forward, Jamie tilts her head for a better look, hums, like she’s only just noticed. “Oh, yeah, maybe.” At Dani’s looks she splays her palms out, open, innocent. “Habit?”

Dani looks at her silently, long enough that Jamie’s smile crumples into a shit-am-I-actually-in-trouble frown. She opens her mouth like she’s about to backpedal, and Dani holds up a hand to stop her.

Obediently, Jamie clicks her mouth shut. Dani turns off the stove.

“Are you really sorry?”

Jamie nods, forehead crinkling. Her feet hook over the rung of the stool, and she tilts forward, all doe-eyes and pretty, pink mouth – like she’s imploring Dani to touch. Dani knows, without thinking, that if she did something as simple as set her hand at the small of Jamie’s back, that Jamie would fold, pliant and wanting.

But that would be too easy, and she’s acutely aware of the wine now, of Jamie’s submission.  

Fingers slipped under the capped sleeves of her sweater, Dani drags down the straps of her bra one at a time, reaching under the hem to pull it free. She drops it to the kitchen floor, maintaining a slow, steady burn of eye contact.

Swallowing, Jamie tilts her chin up. Watches steadily, her only tell the rapid rise and fall of her chest, breath hiking.

“You really want to apologize?” Dani asks, absently shifts the cookbook off the counter, relocates the open bottles of wine to the table in the kitchenette.

Jamie’s white knuckles the lip of the stool, and she leans forward so far she’s liable to topple. “Yeah, I want to apologize.”

“And you’re sorry?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, drawing the cupid’s bow of her mouth taut. “You know I am.”

Dani creeps forward, powerful with the knowledge of Jamie’s desire, the story of it written plainly on her face, expression earnest and embarrassingly naked. “How sorry?”

“So sorry, baby.” A bit of a drawl now, voice pitched low. Looking for permission, she starts to get up slowly, permitted by an incline of Dani’s chin.

“Prove it.”

And, yeah, that’s definitely the wine talking. That she would ever be brave enough to challenge Jamie like this would have seemed almost inexplicable to her a matter of months ago. But here she is, knowing Jamie can see the weight of her chest through the thin cashmere of her sweater, knowing her breasts and the shape of her nipples are visible under the tight fabric, knowing exactly where Jamie is staring.

And Jamie tips the stool in her eagerness, reaches for her and catches her by the waist, pulls her into a deep kiss. She backs her into the counter until the lip of it digs into Dani’s skin, her back bowing under the full body press of Jamie against her.

Hands go straight to her chest over her sweater, groping a little sloppily – a little high school, a little tipsy, moaning like it’s the first time a girl’s ever let her be so bold. Those hands slide to her hips and then around, cupping under her thighs and encouraging her up onto the counter. Dani hops up easily, scattering a salt shaker and nearly thumping her head back into the cabinets.

Peeling up the hem of her sweater, Jamie adapts well to having her chest at eye level. She presses sloppy kisses to her stomach, moves up until she can teethe at the curve of Dani’s tits, licks out until Dani sighs, buries her hands in Jamie’s curls and holds her firm.

It had been a surprise to find that strong, swaggering Jamie, with her big boots and sure, cocky grin, goes loose and pliant under Dani’s firm touch – that she submits easily and gratefully, that there are few things she likes more than sinking to her knees, hands digging dimples into Dani’s thighs.

“Good,” Dani hisses, tips her head back hard enough that the dull thump against the cabinets reminds her of the solidity of her own body, of Jamie’s knees grinding into the linoleum, her mouth working between her legs.

Dinner is cooling on the counter, the sauce congealing in the pan, and Jamie is sighing happily, nudging closer, her cheeks wet against the inside of Dani’s thighs. Her own pleasure seems perversely visceral in the mundane sepia glow of the tiny kitchen, the tasteless mid-century art watching her throat mottle with an ecstatic blush, her hands tightening in Jamie’s hair, her hips rolling.

Dani hopes, abruptly and breathlessly, that Agnes’s ghost isn’t also here to watch them desecrate her kitchen counter. Then, expletives rolling off her tongue as Jamie does something particularly innovative, moves her fingers to join her tongue, she realizes she doesn’t really fucking care.

Until Jamie, the power of sex had never belonged to Dani before. It was, at best, an inconvenience and, at worst, an obligation. Sex meant the stick shift of Eddie’s car digging into her back in empty parking lots, meant turning her head to the side and bearing the world around her.

When he kissed her, she felt the gestures – the rough chafe of stubble, the press of his mouth, the heat of his breath – but they never seemed to reach her. The flickers of sensation rolled off her skin, a storm over the ocean, missing the shore completely. And, after, the guilt wrung her dry.  

But this, just the flicker of Jamie’s eyes to hers before they flutter shut, lashes dark against her cheek, her hands spreading her thighs, Dani is submerged.

**

Dani Clayton didn’t believe in ghosts before she came to Bly, but now her own body is as haunted as a Victorian landscape, a dark manor on the moor, some rooms shuttered even to her.

But before Bly, Dani didn’t believe in this either – that she would ever feel the full-body pleasure of another person curled into her side, bare legs tangled and covered by a knit throw, feeding her bites of steak from sauce-sticky fingers.

“This feels absolutely animal,” Dani says around a giggle.

Jamie shrugs. “No reason to waste it.” She watches Dani lick her thumb clean with narrowed eyes, waggles a finger, a little admonishing. “And this time, I wasn’t the one who ruined dinner.”

“You played a very critical role,” Dani murmurs, and Jamie grins, a little pleased with herself. She shifts on the rug, trying to get comfortable, leans back into the couch.

“I like to think I played my part, yeah.” Turning her head, she drops a kiss on Dani’s bare shoulder. “How’d I do?”

Huffing a laugh, Dani offers her cheek for another kiss. “Five stars.”

They had retreated from the kitchen after Jamie began to complain of a leg cramp. The novelty of the kitchen counter wears off pretty fast, especially when any particularly creative maneuvers are likely to put something dangerously close to a hot burner.

Half-dressed and starting to shiver, skirt still hiked up to her waist, Dani had let Jamie tug her down onto the living room floor, finish what they started.

After, Jamie would put on a record, salvage what she could from the kitchen and rescue the half-drunk bottle of wine. It was still a good cut of meat, she insisted, marbled with fat and juice-dripping, and some people liked it better cold, anyway.

Now, the plate shucked somewhere under the coffee table, Dani rolls onto her back and drags Jamie with her. Drowsy, full of red wine and fine food, Jamie buries her head into the crook of Dani’s neck, leaves herself vulnerable to Dani’s naked, curious gaze.

Flush with the implicit permission to look, to explore, Dani trails a finger down Jamie’s arm, enamored with the smallest details – the dotting of freckles, the fine, soft hair on her arms, the tendons in her wrists that ripple when she closes her fingers gently around Dani’s wandering hand.

Eyes still closed, her words vibrating against Dani’s throat, she whispers, “good anniversary, then?”

“I think we salvaged it,” Dani whispers back, loathe to shatter the stillness of the room, the croon of the record and the impossibly light kiss dusted over her collarbone like an offering.

Despite the grind of the threadbare carpet against her back, the peace lulls her into the slow, syrup drift of near-sleep, but she stops her eyelids from drifting shut, wanting to continue her examination. She steals her hand from Jamie’s grasp to stroke lightly over the pink, raw divots where her clothes dug into skin – a band from the strap of her bra, the texture of her jeans leaving faint marks on her hips.

“I like living here with you so much,” Dani says. The honesty of her own voice a fragile thing, like an undressed windowpane, transparent in its nakedness.

She looks at the lines left behind from Jamie’s clothing, the fullness of her thighs and hips disguised by the drape of the afghan, teasing skin through its crocheted weave.

“I’ve never –” Dani starts, stops. Stalls, tries again. “– with anyone, before. Like, never –” She slips her hand under the blanket to stroke the plane of Jamie’s hip, draws a circle. “Y’know, never wanted to make someone dinner or come home to them or,” she pinches her eyes shut, “couldn’t wait to fuck them so we do it on the kitchen counter, instead.”

Jamie snorts, “And how was it?”

“Almost as good as kissing you,” Dani says, unthinking. She’s watching the shape of her hand through the thin blanket, but angles her chin to meet Jamie’s eyes when she feels her tense, finds her blinking up at her.

“Oh, yeah?” Jamie asks, a little dazed.

“Yeah.”

Tilting up, Jamie kisses her, slow. Lip to lip, the kind of kiss that drags on even after you pull away. Dani shivers.

“I can feel that in my entire body,” she says, a little dreamy. “Like you’re touching me all over.”

“You’re sleepy, baby,” Jamie says. She nuzzles in, “Talking crazy.”

She isn’t wrong – sprawled on the living room floor like cats in a sunbeam, the warmth of Jamie’s body, the smell of sex, the threat of the witching hour fast approaching, her eyelids are dragging closed, but – “I mean it,” she says, a little slurred now. “I can feel you everywhere.”

She loses Jamie’s reply to a foggy plunge into a deep, cotton sleep.

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter eleven

genre: angst, fluff

pairing: season 10 spencer reid x oc

warnings: brief and non-descriptive mention of nonconsensual sex, alcohol consumption

word count: 7k

summary: amelia and spencer are forced apart too early in the morning, right at the start of a very important week.

i sincerely apologize for taking two months to update. school has started again and i haven’t been mentally well, not to mention a nasty case of writers block. so here’s the final filler chapter before shit goes down ;)

as usual, if you would like to be added to the taglist or taken off of it, just send me a message!

SPENCER

The light pouring in from the open windows wakes me up before my ringing phone does. My eyes squint in an attempt to adjust to the brightness as I grab my phone as quickly as possible. I glance down at Amelia on my chest just to make sure she wasn’t woken up. She shifts a bit and moves closer to me but doesn’t open her eyes, thankfully. Just as I suspect, Garcia tells me that we have a case and I need to get to the office ASAP. I thank her and hang up.

“Don’t go,” Amelia murmurs, winding her arms tighter around my waist. “You’re so warm. Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” I pull her closer before I even think about getting up, peppering her face with kisses to make up for having to leave so early in the morning. “If you send me a picture of you drinking tea then I’ll do the same with my coffee, and that’ll make up for the cafe date we won’t have today.”

She smiles, returning a kiss to my cheek, all she can muster up in her sleepy haze. “Sure thing.”

Amelia rolls off of me and gives me the room to get up and start getting dressed. I bustle around her bedroom in search of my clothes and any clean socks. I resort to going through Amelia’s closet and grab the socks she has previously stolen from me. I make a mental note to wash and return them to her. I move on to brush my hair and teeth and when I come out of the bathroom, Amelia is holding my phone out for me so I won’t forget it. 

“Do you know when you’re gonna be home?” She tucks her head into her pillow and bats her eyelashes, giving me this soft smile that makes it exponentially harder to leave without guilt eating me alive. 

But the guilt grows and grows when Amelia’s face starts to fall. Obviously, she wanted an immediate answer of me assuring that I’ll be home in a few hours. But I can’t promise that. We both know that. That doesn’t make it hurt less for Amelia though, especially when tomorrow is so important.

“I don’t know,” I crouch down beside the bed, bringing my hand through Amelia’s hair. Her smile returns and her eyelids flutter, “and I can’t ensure that I’ll be home for tomorrow either. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a smile that I’ve seen too many times for my liking. Fake, disappointed, upset. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll have other anniversaries.”

“But this is our one year anniversary. I’ve never dated a girl for a whole year before! It’s a big deal for me!”

Amelia giggles, reaching for my hand in her hair and bringing it to her lips. “And I’ve never dated a boy for a whole year either. It’s a big deal for me too, but we’ll celebrate a different day.”

“But I’ll be damned if I don’t get back for your exhibit next week. I’ll be there.” 

“It’ll be open for a month, you-”

“But the opening night is a big deal. And I’m gonna be there,” Amelia holds her hand up, pinky out, and tries to keep her eyes from drooping closed again. I wrap my pinky around hers, “I promise.” 

Amelia smiles one more time, a genuine smile, and kisses my knuckles one more time. “Get going, dove. Don’t be late.” She straightens my tie for me and smooths down the shoulder pads on my cardigan. “Tell everyone I say hi. And be careful, please.”

“I will, I always am.”

“That scar on your neck says otherwise.” I roll my eyes at her. “Head out, my favorite crimefighter.”

“I think you’re spending too much time with Garcia,” I quip, leaning over the bed yet again to give her a kiss. “Go back to bed, Lia.”

“How can I when you’re right in front of me and you look so good?” Amelia smirks, although she is far too tired to even keep her smile up for too long.

“Don’t try and seduce me. Go to sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too, Doctor.”

I give Amelia a final kiss and grab my go-bag, leaving as quickly as I can so I don’t give myself the option to run back to bed and scoop Amelia up and kiss her all over. We spent all night last night in bed and I would love to recreate those events this morning, but the serial killers of America have apparently decided that they choose now to split us up. Just wonderful. Exactly what I needed, actually. I make it to one year with the love of my life and we can’t even spend it together. 

Amelia will be stuck at home or she’ll be stressing over her exhibit and I’ll be off in some random state, chasing another killer and comforting another victim. And then, of course, there’s her exhibit. She has been working on these pieces for longer than we’ve been together and I know she is proud of what she created. When Amelia invited me to the gallery, she was so excited and overjoyed for me to come and see her work, albeit a little bit nervous too. But she has had this on her calendar for as long as I’ve known her and has texted me reminders and sneak peeks of pieces and talked my ear off at dinners and cafe dates and phone calls. No matter how many times she smiles at me, I know she is upset that there’s a chance I can’t make the opening night. 

“Kid? What’s going on in there?” Morgan presses his finger into my temple, bringing me out of my blonde-haired, blue-eyed reverie and alerting everyone on the jet of my current state of mind. I swat Morgan’s hand away and try to return to the open book in my lap.

“Oh, come on,” Rossi encourages Morgan’s incredibly annoying behavior. “We can all see that there’s something going on in your head. Case related?”

“No,” I flip the page despite not having read anything on that page.

“So,” JJ joins in, “is it about your home life? Amelia, perhaps?” 

When I stay silent, everybody gets their answer.

“Oh, no, trouble on the home front?” Kate pouts in a way that feels like she’s mocking me. “I’m sure we’d be happy to help you nurse the situation back to happiness.” 

“Yeah, what was it?” Morgan sits down in the seat beside me and throws his arm over my shoulder. “Was she upset you had to leave in the morning before she could get some loving?”

“Chris hates that,” Kate groans and JJ nods along. I open my mouth to respond, to deny that claim, but I get spoken over. “I usually have to do a little bit of extra work to make it up to him.”

“Like,” JJ chokes down a laugh, “being on top extra work?”

“Exactly. Men just wanna lay back, get off without having to work for it, and see women’s boobs. That’s it.” JJ nods along with Kate’s words, and even Morgan is nodding, but that’s not a surprise. My eyes dart behind JJ’s chair and I see Hotch nodding too. 

“That’s clearly not it,” Rossi finally ends the conversation, waving his hands to get them to stop talking. “What’s the issue, Reid?”

“I’ve got another guess,” Morgan pulls back his arms and I think his hands are going to return to his side, but he just snatches the book out of my hand and tosses it aside. “She caught you looking at another girl and now you’re in the doghouse.”

JJ groans even louder than before. “I catch Will looking at other women all the time! It’s so frustrating. Like, hello? Your wife is right in front of you, she’s looking wonderful, and she has sex with you whenever you ask! Why are you looking at other women?” This catapults JJ, Kate, and Morgan into an argument about can people still find others attractive while in a relationship, and I’m glad they are off in their own world. 

Somehow, that ‘guess’ from Morgan hurt more than the first one, and JJ’s comments just don’t make sense. Sure, I still find others attractive but I have Amelia so I don’t even need to look for more than two seconds. I’ve caught Amelia doing the same a few times and it doesn’t even need to be a conversation. It’s human nature. And why is JJ having intercourse with Will ‘whenever he asks?’ That’s not right. Both people involved should be happy and in the mood. A few weeks ago, Amelia was in the mood but I was too tired after work, so we just went to sleep. End of story. Why is JJ having sex whenever she is asked? That doesn’t make any sense. It’s all so confusing. I don’t understand any of this. How did I make it a whole year with Amelia? How has she dealt with me for 365 days? 

The arguing gives me something to distract myself with for a little bit, all the way until the plane lands in Miami. I’m lost in thought about the hoard of stupid arguments instead of the ways I’m disappointing Amelia this week. I’m thankful for that, but not so thankful about the accusations from Morgan. 

“Oh shit,” Morgan chuckles as we climb into an SUV, “we never got to talk about your relationship issues, pretty boy. We will on the way home.”

I settle into my seat, putting on my seatbelt and crossing my arms over my chest. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.”

“We all know that you’re not really a relationship man,” Morgan continues, and the heat instantly rushes to my cheeks. I’m not a relationship man? What exactly does that mean? “But you know that we’re always gonna be here when you need help with your lady. We’ve all got experience in relationships. We can share our wisdom with you.” 

“Okay,” I respond weakly, “thanks.”

///

AMELIA

///

I stare back at my reflection in the mirror, ridiculing my outfit to no end. Should I have worn an expensive, sparkly dress instead of my double denim jacket and skirt and a turtleneck? But the patterned denim is cool, right? Should I wear a white turtleneck instead of this cream one? Would my silver jewelry look better than my gold jewelry? Should I have left my hair down instead of in this bun? Nothing seems right. Everything is wrong. 

“Lia?” Jenna says. “You’re spacing out.”

I shake my head, ending my self-deprecating daydream and giving her a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I was just wondering if I should change or not.”

“I love your outfit. I think it’s perfect. But if you’re gonna change then do it quickly because we have to leave in,” she checks the clock, “two minutes.”

My outfit is fine, right? Potential buyers won’t look at my outfit and decide not to purchase my work, right? Why the hell am I even stressing so much about something as insignificant as my outfit? 

“Let’s just go before I wind up going naked because I can’t make up my mind on an outfit.” I grab my bag and camera and rush out the door with Jenna at my side, jumping on the train and heading a few blocks away.

The exhibit is already set up when we arrive and for the first time all day, maybe even all week, I actually get excited. My day has been nothing but pure fear and anxiety, nothing close to excitement. But standing here with all my work surrounding me, I finally allow myself to smile. 

“Here you go, my love,” Jenna shoves a wine glass into my hand, drinking her own and looking around. “You’ve outdone yourself with this one, babe. This is truly the best work you’ve produced. I guess falling in love really did have a positive effect on your work.” My cheeks turn red but I hide it with a sip of my wine. “And speaking of love, have you heard from Spencer today?”

“No,” I shake my head, “but I’m sure he’s incredibly busy. When we talked yesterday, they hadn’t closed the case yet.”

The echoey room goes silent for a moment as I distract myself in making sure my artwork is in the right order. I know they are because I was the one who put them in the correct order yesterday, but I just don’t want to face this inevitably sad conversation.

“I’m sorry. I know you want him here.” Jenna gives me an unsure smile. "It’s a shame but I look forward to hearing what he has to say about your art. I mean, I know he'll love it, but he's obviously a little smarter than the rest of us so I'm sure he'll have smart things to say about your pieces and-"

"Yeah," I take another long drink, "I'll let you know."

Some time passes and the exhibit finally opens. Hoards of people show up, including my group of friends. They're incredibly nice and supportive and rave about my work, and it makes me wonder if they'd be any different if Spencer were here. Those thoughts don’t last too long because Beth shows up with her bosses, telling me that after we met at Rossi’s dinner, she talked me up to her bosses about my work and they insisted on coming tonight. She apologizes for the team being away but I brush that off and tell her to enjoy herself. Maybe I should take that advice. 

"Miss Amelia Stark!" I gasp and turn around at the sound of my name, a grin forming on my face.

"Oh my gosh, Penelope!" I grin, immediately pulling her into a hug. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working the case?"

"We closed it," she exclaims, holding my shoulders tightly and shaking just a bit too harsh. "Those lovely people closed their case and we did our paperwork and they're on their way back and so I put this cute dress on and rushed my butt here because I didn't wanna miss your opening!"

"Oh, Penelope," I sigh, hugging her yet again, "you're the sweetest ever. Thank you so much for coming."

"The team all said they wanted to come but I'm not sure when their flight is gonna get in. Spencer was really upset about-"

"It's okay," I cut her off, pulling away and shaking my head. "The exhibit will be open for a month and they can come by whenever. It's fine. Get a drink, come on!"

I drag her over to the bar and she goes running off to find Beth, then just a few minutes later, she's chatting with some other people. I catch her talking to a consistent buyer of mine, a very rich and powerful politician who never spends long at exhibits. He just finds what he wants and leaves. I love Penelope but she has a personality that not everyone can handle. However, when I keep watching them, I realize she is talking me up and trying to convince him to buy more than one piece, and it seems to be working. I remind myself to give her a big thank you later on. 

Another hour passes and everyone seems to be enjoying the exhibit. I make my rounds and chat to everyone I find, and as the night goes on, I feel my mood coming down. The adrenaline from my excitement has worn off and I’m just left absolutely exhausted with my social battery on low. I’m left with the weight of my necklace on my chest, an empty wine glass, and a room full of people who are expecting something from me. I’ve never quite been able to figure out with that something is.

I lean against the wall at the back of the room, staring out at everyone. They’re staring at my work and probably critiquing my life’s work. But the longer I stare, the more my eyesight warps. And all I’m left with is some sick vision of a beautiful blonde woman holding the hand of a little boy, pointing at a painting of purple butterflies, and giggling in the infectious way toddlers do. It’s painful. I used to burst into laughter with him, but now the echoing sound only brings tears to my eyes. My hand comes up to my neck, fiddling with the butterfly. 

I wish my mom were here. I wish I could see the look on her face when she sees my work, and I wish she would criticize my drawing skills, and I wish she could meet Spencer, and I just wish she were here. And I wish my brother were here so I could remind him to be quiet and I wish he could question the meaning behind my paintings as I hold his hand while leading him around the room and I wish he could rave about Star Wars with Spencer. I want a supportive family to hug me and praise me and cheer for me when a painting gets bought. I want my family.

"Amelia?"

My head pops up to find Spencer standing in front of me, eyebrows furrowed and hands in front of him, reaching towards me. My eyes widen, almost in disbelief, and I stand up straighter. "Oh my god, you're here!" I throw my arms around his shoulders and he lifts me off my feet in a hug, squeezing my waist. "The way Penelope was talking, it seemed like the flight would take too long,"

"It wasn't too long, I'm here now. What's wrong? Are you okay?" Spencer mumbles into my shoulder, pulling away to give me that same concerned look I always give him when he gets home from a case.

"I'm okay," I try to give him a convincing smile, but he sees right through me.

"Do I need to point out all the reasons why that's clearly a lie?" Spencer retorts. Without asking how the case went, I search his face for injuries. Penelope would have told me if anyone got hurt, especially if Spencer did, but I guess I'm a creature of habit. I always have to make sure he’s okay. "Amelia, baby, I'm fine." He pulls my hands away from his face and holds them in his.

"Guess what? I am too," I give him a better smile than before, twisting my head to kiss his cheek to end the conversation. I debate on promising I'm fine, but I know that's an abuse of something we hold so close to our hearts. Promising is special to us and I don't want to ruin it by lying on it. "Is the team here?"

"Yeah, they grabbed a drink and started looking around. I'm pretty sure they found Penelope and I'm pretty sure she's a little drunk," Spencer is already smiling and it makes me feel better to know he's dropping the subject I clearly don't want to talk about.

"Yeah, I know. I told her to stop drinking and she ran away from me so I’m not sure if she actually did. But I'm glad everyone is here, I wanna say hi before they leave."

"Will you bring me around?" Spencer asks, pulling me close again and already leading me to the beginning of the exhibit. "I know I could just walk the exhibit myself but I'd love an inside scoop from the talented artist herself.”

As Jenna has poked fun at before, Spencer truly has something intelligent to say about every single piece we look at. He can see all the metaphors and symbols in my pieces, but I wonder if that's because he understands art in general or because he knows me too well. But no matter what the reasoning is, his praise and love and comments mean the world to me. If Spencer hated this exhibit then I would have to spend the rest of my days trying to create one that he actually likes.

It takes us a while to get through the exhibit, almost an hour, but the final piece is on the back wall and that's where we end up, holding hands as we stare up at the perfectly arranged pieces of folded paper on the wall.

"So," I murmur, "it's a-"

"A dove," Spencer interrupts, "and it's made out of paper. This is what you destroyed Rossi's books for?"

"Among other books. Mostly books about profiling and crime and serial killers. I printed out a lot of newspapers you've been quoted in, your dissertation, and just things you've written so those are mixed in there. So yeah, this one's about you, dove."

"I love it," Spencer quips, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "I love the whole exhibit if it wasn't obvious enough. Everything is just- it's beautiful. I want this one in my apartment. Wanna hang it up in the living room."

"Well," I move to wrap my arms around his waist, staring up at him, "this one isn’t for sale, not like all the others. So, you know, maybe, one day, when we get a house of our own and we have space, we can put it up."

Spencer grins, fiddling with one of the curls framing my face. "Sounds like a plan."

"Can we interrupt the moment?" Rossi's voice breaks us apart, and I turn my head to find the BAU team approaching with smiles on their faces.

"Hi everyone! Thank you so much for coming! I'm sure you're all really tired after the case and-"

"We wouldn't miss it for the world, kid," Rossi says, pulling me into a hug. "The exhibit is absolutely wonderful. Genuinely some of the best artwork I’ve seen."

"It's amazing. I sure as hell can't do anything like this," Morgan chuckles, gesturing around to the art on the walls. "It's really impressive."

"Well, thank you, guys. I'm really glad you're all here, it means a lot."

"Hey, Dr. Genius!" Jenna is suddenly at my side, giving a small wave to Spencer and then the team, almost spilling her wine, which means she's probably drunk. The team laughs at the nickname as I easily take the drink from her hand, keeping her from drinking any more. "Hey, Lia, Robbie is here and he wanted me to tell you he says six."

"Alright," I sigh and send a smile to the team, wrapping my arm around Jenna’s waist to keep her upright, "I've gotta go deal with some stuff but I'll see you guys later and if I don't, thank you for coming and get home safe."

I squeeze Spencer's hand once more before heading off, searching for Robbie, an old friend of mine who frequently buys my art. We chat for a while and when I turn my head to search for Spencer, I find that he's talking to my friend group. Jenna is there too but that does nothing to calm my anxiety since she is far too drunk to be in this setting. God only knows what they could be talking about. They could be scaring him away or Spencer could be subtly telling them off or literally anything could be going on. But then Spencer is smiling and laughing and it makes me relax, but it doesn't make me wonder any less what the topic of conversation is.

Time rolls on and eleven gets closer, which means the exhibit starts to clear out. By twelve, most pieces have been bought and the room has emptied. Spencer sticks around, thankfully, and sees everyone off. I'm thankful that he lets me hang on him when everyone leaves, and he catches my waist as I fall into his arms at the end of an incredibly long night.

"Do you have to do this every night for a month?" Spencer asks, hands clutching my waist to keep me up, his voice echoing off of the white walls.

"No, no," I shake my head, steadying myself on my feet and nuzzling my nose against his neck, "I don't have to come every night but I try to come a lot. But the first night is always the most stressful and it's the busiest, as you could see."

Spencer hums, moving his hands to rub up and down my back. "How about we go back to one of our apartments and we order some food? I'm hungry and I'm sure you are too."

"Please. Yes. Absolutely," I agree, practically dragging Spencer out of the room. At the mention of food, my stomach starts grumbling. On the walk back to my apartment, we stop at our favorite diner to pick up dinner.

"Well," Spencer follows me into my apartment, flipping on the main light and kicking off his shoes, "that was something very different than I'm used to, but I really enjoyed it."

"You met my friends," it's too much for me to hold in anymore, but I don't look up as I take my shoes off and shrug off my denim jacket. I just blurt it out and keep my eyes down to avoid this confrontation that I just started.

Spencer chuckles when he takes off his own jacket, hanging it up beside my own. "Yeah, I did. "

I start to head towards the stairs, pausing to make sure he's following me and when he’s on the step right below me, I start my ascent. "And? What'd they say?"

"Do you want the profiler answer or the regular answer?" I genuinely think over that question as I walk up the stairs. Normally, I wouldn't want the profiler answer. But I'm curious what the true intentions of my friends are and I know the profiler answer will give me that. And so, I tell him that. "Well," Spencer begins, reaching across me in my closet for his own clothes, "honestly, they seemed very hesitant to be around me when I first went over to them. Jenna had brought me over and introduced me, and none of them seemed like they really wanted anything to do to me. But we started talking about your art and they started to ask me my interpretation of your pieces like they thought I wouldn't find meaning in any of them. Once I told your friends about some of them, that's when they started to open up and actually be nice."

I roll my eyes and pull out a set of pajamas for myself, stripping myself of my own clothes. "They're so annoying. Spencer, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, not a big deal. Honestly, I've dealt with ruder people who've said worse," Spencer pulls off his sweater and replaces it with another, sitting on the bed when he's changed into his pajamas. "But really, babe, I'm so proud of you. The exhibit was amazing."

Changing my mind on clothes, I grab Spencer’s discarded sweater and put it over my sweatpants. "Thanks, Spence."

"I'm gonna go make some tea. Do you want some?" Spencer runs his hands through his hair and heads towards the stairs, not even waiting for the confirmation he knew he would get from me.

Once I'm completely redressed, I take out my contacts and wrap myself in a blanket, tiptoeing down the stairs. I catch sight of Spencer in the kitchen but I walk right past, opening the unlocked balcony door as quietly as I possibly can. I sneak out and sit down on the armchair there, drawing my knees to my chest and letting out a heavy breath. I try to let out all of the negative energy I’m bottling up, but it doesn’t quite work.

"Amelia," my time outside is short-lived as it usually is because Spencer is interrupting me in just a minute, "I finished the tea, and I put dinner out."

"Okay," I whisper, nodding slowly. I move from the chair and breeze past my boyfriend, into the kitchen where there are two cups of tea and containers from the diner. I hear Spencer close and lock the balcony door before closing the curtain, following me further into my apartment.

I sit on the counter with my box of food in my lap and my cup of tea beside me, Spencer sitting at the island, and awkward silence occupying the other chairs. This silence is so different from the others we’ve sat through. This feels tense and unsure with a bit of fear sprinkled in. I know it’s my fault because I acted so weird at the exhibit, but I just want it to be over. Spencer isn’t saying anything, and it doesn’t seem like he will any time soon, and there’s only one thing I can think of to say to break the painful silence. 

"Um," I keep my eyes down, stabbing my pancake over and over to attempt to make intricate designs with the four holes, "whenever I have exhibits or galleries or showcases, it makes me miss my family."

Spencer is silent for a moment, probably thinking over my words in his head and wondering what the right thing to say is. The joke is on him though because any further conversation is guaranteed to make me cry. There is no right thing to say. Everything is wrong. "Your family? Like, your biological family?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I just-” I actually eat a small piece of pancakes to force down the lump in my throat, “I wish my mom and my brother could see my work. I love my foster family with all my heart but, I just-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Spencer interjects. "You want your family and there's nothing wrong with that."

I bury my face in my hands, letting out a shaky breath as the tears pour out of my eyes like an uncontrollable flood. I hear the chair scrape against the floor and then feel my takeout box being moved away from my lap, followed by Spencer's warm hands on my legs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I apologize, shaking my head at myself and trying to push him away. "I just-” he grabs my hands, preventing me from hitting his chest, “I don't want you to leave me," I wrap my arms around his shoulders as tight as I can get them, as if squeezing him will ensure that he sticks around forever.

"I don't know how many times I have to remind you that I'm not going anywhere," Spencer whispers back. "I know you've lost a lot of people in your life but I'm not gonna be one of them. Hey, we talked about buying a house today, love. I'm in this for the long haul with you and you know that, right? I'm right here."

"Okay," I mutter, pushing my face in his neck. "Thank you. I’m sorry for making you say that again."

“I’ll tell you whatever you need, as many times as you need it. I’ll never get tired of reminding you how much I love you.”

I smile gently, nodding along to his words, bringing my hands up to his hair. And in the quietest words I can muster up, I say, “okay.”

“Why don’t we,” Spencer turns away and grabs my container that he moved aside, “go eat in bed and then go right to sleep? It’s late and-”

“And you have work tomorrow,” I finish for him, taking the food from his hands and dragging myself to the stairs.

“Actually,” Spencer is at my side in a second, “I requested the day off for tomorrow so we can celebrate our anniversary.”

I whip around, stopping halfway up the stairs and grinning at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he echos, grabbing my waist and walking me up to bed. “I felt really bad about missing it so I ensured that we won’t be interrupted tomorrow. I’m gonna make it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” I fall back onto the bed and toss my food aside, pulling Spencer on top of me by his tie. “You wanna make it up to me and don’t wanna be interrupted? Did you have anything in mind, Dr. Reid?”

“Maybe a couple of things. I could start making it up to you now.”

“That sounds like a perfect idea.”

///

SPENCER

///

"Spencer?" Amelia shouts from upstairs, her voice faint as I'm lacing on my converse by the front door, already in my jacket.

"Amelia?" I yell back in the same tone, and when I tie off my second shoe, I grab her black heels from the ground before standing. I lean against the door and watch as she comes hurrying down the stairs, socked feet silent as she ties a black ribbon around her curly ponytail.

"Have you seen my shoes? I can't seem to-" she looks up at me holding them out to her and freezes, a smile coming to her face. "You're just the perfect man, aren't you?"

I laugh as she takes them from me, leaning down to step into them. "Just got a pretty good memory."

"Pretty good is underselling yourself, dove," Amelia stands up straight, now a few inches taller as she puts on her small backpack and tucks her keys in her jacket pocket. “Ready to go?”

“Are you?” She sticks her tongue out at me for my sass, taking my hand in hers and dragging me out of the apartment.

There are a million things we could do on our mock anniversary. We spent the whole morning debating what to do and couldn’t even decide. So we decided to do the only thing we could agree on- a cafe date. We decide that we’re going to get coffee and then wander around until we find something to do. It’s really a horrible plan, the worst we could come up with, but it’s fitting. We never make plans because there’s always the potential for my job to ruin them, so no plan today is weirdly perfect and it just makes sense. 

“So,” Amelia chirps as we sit down at our normal table, warm drinks in hand, “How was the case?”

And we just fall into natural conversation after that. I pivot away from the conversation about the case and we talk about the exhibit, then our favorite type of tea, then argue over where we think the best vacation spot would be (Amelia says somewhere in the Caribbean whereas I would want to go Iceland), and then we rehash the argument about what we should do today. Still, no decision. 

And as we’re talking, I glance behind Amelia’s seat and suddenly my attention is off of my girlfriend. A few seats away, there is a couple sitting in a booth. They are sitting on the same side of the table and the girl is curled up at the guy’s side, legs draped over his and her head on his shoulder. She is positively beaming, staring up at the guy with a giant smile on her face. He looks down at her with the same expression and then they kiss, and I can even hear their laughs from here. She looks happy. She looks like Amelia does when we’re together. But I don’t look like that guy and he seems to be doing good with his relationship. I’m not like that. So is Amelia really happy with me, even though she looks at me with stars in her eyes? Maybe not.

“Spence?” Amelia’s voice breaks me away from my staring, and my head snaps over to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I answer too quickly, drinking my coffee and not even grimacing at how hot it is, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” She twists around in her seat to look behind her, to see what I see, but she turns back with furrowed brows.

“Yeah,” I take the last sip of my coffee and stand, holding my hand out for her. “Ready to go?”

Amelia tilts her head to the side like an adorable, confused puppy but takes my hand anyway. We leave the cafe and walk down the street, silence falling over us. I pull Amelia closer to me and she curls into my side, holding onto my arm and laying her head on my shoulder, the same way that girl did to the guy beside her. But she never looks up at me with those stars and my shoulders slump forward, the corners of my mouth pointing towards the ground.

“Ooh!” Amelia points across the street to a bookstore that I frequent. “Let’s go there.” And without giving me a chance, she pulls me off the sidewalk and into the store.

It’s perfectly quiet in the store, hopefully quiet enough to hush the blaring thoughts in my head, and it’s empty too. Amelia wanders off right away, disappearing down an aisle that I never go in. So I look through books alone, picking out a couple and tucking them under my arm. But being alone quickly gets boring so I go searching for my girlfriend.

I first go down the aisle she went down and find her right away, sitting in front of the endcap with her sketchbook in her hands and the pencil flying across the page. Not wanting to interrupt, I sit across from her and put my legs in front of me, right beside hers, and start reading. She puts her left hand on my leg, a silent acknowledgment of my presence, and keeps drawing. 

I try to read but I just can’t focus. I’m too distracted by the sound of Amelia’s pencil and Amelia’s touch and the bow in Amelia’s hair and Amelia’s gorgeous smile and the smell of Amelia’s perfume wafting between us and Amelia’s dress and just Amelia. She is filling my senses so intensely that it’s painful and I have to put my book down before I lose my mind.

“Amelia,” she hums, not even looking up at the sound of my voice. “Am I-�� she looks up at the start of my question and her eye contact makes it so much harder to force out my words. “Do you-”

“Do I?” she parrots, waiting for me to finish the allusive question. She looks back down at her sketchbook.

“Have you ever had sex with me when you didn’t want to?”

Her head snaps right back up. “Excuse me?” 

“Like,” I fumble for the right words to explain myself and it all just comes out wrong. “Do you think it’s bad that I still find other people attractive even though we’re dating? I definitely wanna be with you and no one else but does it bother you that I find other people attractive? Because I don’t wanna be disrespectful and if it bothers you then I can try to stop but it might be hard because the chemicals in our brain make-”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Amelia puts her sketchbook down and scoots closer to me, putting her hands on my cheeks. “Spencer, I am insanely confused. What the fuck are you talking about? First, you asked me if I have sex with you when I don’t want to and now you’re talking yourself into not finding other people attractive. Please explain.”

So I recount everything that JJ and Kate said about their husbands and then what Morgan asked about me. The confusion never really leaves her face as I explain but I keep word vomiting, only finding comfort in her warm hands on my face.

“Okay, let me clarify something for you,” she pulls my face closer to hers, so close that I can smell the green tea on her breath. “I have never had sex with you when I didn’t want to. I can promise you that. And you finding other people attractive doesn’t bother me. Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean you go blind around attractive people. It’s okay, Spence. Don’t listen to them. They always try to help but make things so much worse.”

But I’m not convinced, staring down at my hands in my lap, willing away tears so I don’t make a fool of myself in the middle of a bookstore I love so much and in front of the woman who I would lay down my life for. “Do you think I’m bad at relationships?”

“I wouldn’t be dating you if you were,” she responds quick enough for me to actually believe it. “I mean, I hadn’t been in a relationship before you so I don’t really have anything to compare you to. But you make me happy and I love you and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Sure.”

“Spencer, look at me,” my eyes slowly travel up to hers and she presses her lips to mine. Soft, warm, strawberry flavored. But it swiftly makes my pain and confusion and fear melt. I bring my hands to her waist and pull her body against mine, and I feel her smile against my lips. “Now, you listen to me, Doctor Spencer Reid,” I chuckle at her use of my full name, and she grins right back at me, “I love you, okay? I don’t want anyone else. You make me happy. Fuck whatever Morgan and JJ said. What we do in our relationship may not work for them and that’s fine. It works for us and that’s what matters. Do you love me?”

I furrow my brows at her. “Yeah, of course I love you. Why would you-”

“Then that’s the end of the story.”

She drops her arms and grabs her sketchbook, reclaiming her seat against the bookcase across from me. She gets right to work, scribbling away and erasing mistakes. Just like that, with a kiss and two gentle touches, she forces my insecurities away and makes me feel more loved than I ever have before. The woman I’ve spent an entire year with is right in front of me and continuously swears she loves me, the same way I do to her. She doesn’t want to be with anyone else. She only wants me. She might be the only person in the world who wants me. And at this moment, I decide that I’m okay with that. If Amelia is the only person in the world who loves me and wants to be around me, then I can die happy. She is all I need. She is the only one I want.

With one more glance at her enchanting, magnificent, gorgeous smile, I pick up my book and continue reading.

TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting @babybloodstonebones​ @blameitonthenight21​ @feralreid​ @anepiphany​ @reidscardigan​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @stxrrywildflower​ @penemily​ @whollytaciturn​ @thegingerfairchild​ @yasminwashere​ @shrimpyblog​ @blakes-dictionxry​ @anamelessfacelessnerd​ @wonderlandhatter​ @whxt-to-write​ @inkandexchange​ @just-call-me-non​

[wildmichaelflower]

Our Forevers

Pairings: teacher!Michael/teacher!Calum/teacher!Reader

Warnings: Angst (that gets resolved), Mentions of food and water, Mentions of alcohol, Discussion of insecurities

Word Count: 1,477

     Being a teacher was not an easy job, but it was the job you loved. You taught American and World History to high school students and, even in your fourth year, you took a sense of joy in seeing the interest beaming in your students eyes as you taught them about the eras of the past. This year, however, graduation would be just more bittersweet. Your first freshman class were seniors, and were just weeks away before beginning their adult lives. You were happy for them, of course, especially when many discussed how excited they were to begin college or job trainings. One of your partners, Calum, who taught middle school gym, tried to empathize you by discussing how he felt watching his first sixth grader class, now grown into eighth graders,prepare to go into high school in the fall.

“Be careful of those new freshmen in the fall,” he smiled as you two preapred dinner one night, “They’re full of angst and their favorite lunch days are pizza. Otherwise they only care about video games and the brands of their clothes.”

“Are you calling me an eighth grader?” Michael joked as he walked into the room, fresh from his shower, hair still dripping wet.

You giggled softly at his remark before following it with, “No, you have actually learned how to wear Axe spray.”

Calum chuckled, “The only correct way is to not wear it.” He shook his head as he added chopped vegetables to the salad, “The boys’ locker room will always smell like it, and I have to remind them not to spray it near my office.” 

Michael grinned as he took a piece of garlic bread from the plate on the island, “Damn, I thought reminding second graders to wash hands before snack was hard.”

You smiled and turned to turn one of the burners off, covering the now completed sauce before focusing on the noodles. 

“How are things in the doghouse anyway?” You smiled. Doghouse referred to his classroom, a joke Michael took great pride in. His first second graders said his last name reminded them of a cartoon red giant dog, and since then, his classroom door was designed like the entrance of a doghouse, and on the morning of the first day, students created a form of dogtag to personalize their desk. 

He swallowed quickly before explaining a moment between a ‘Bobby’ and a ‘Susan’. Silly generic names were common in your household, as real names were legally protected, but it did make the stories enjoyable as well. 

"Little Bobby had told Susan that if she didn't marry him on the playground, no one ever would. Poor girl was in tears," Michael shook his head before getting a beer. He took a few sips, before continuing, "I had to explain that no one was getting married on the playground that day." He grinned mischievously at his lovers, "but one day? Who knows?" 

You laughed at the blonde man's suggestion before handing him his plate, kissing his cheek as he got salad from Calum, who chuckled in response as well.

"Yeah? You got the rings to propose first mister?" Calum smirked as he played the vegetables before giving Michael a kiss on the opposite cheek. 

Michael blushed and shook his head, "Not yet, it's not we're made of money. I would have to get two engagement rings, other teachers barely scrape enough to get one." 

It was true money was occasionally tight, no one went into teaching for money, but you three got by. Michael's tone, however, implied that he was genuinely upset.

You and Calum shared a look behind Michael's back as he went to sit down and Calum followed, placing the salad and garlic table In the center of the table before resting his hands on Michael's shoulder. 

"Bunny, it's ok. We don't need fancy rings to be happy." He smiled softly and kissed his boyfriend's head. 

You nodded, placing your and Calum's plates at the respective places on the table before kneeling on the ground, giving Michael a small smile as he looked at you before taking one of his hands. 

"Cinnamon, we need you happy to be happy," you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, "Nothing more." 

Usually your and Calum's nicknames for your lover brought a smile to his face, but he seemed to stare past you, through you. 

This was serious for him, and the best thing to do was to stay where you were, providing comfort until he found the words he needed to get off his chest.

Finally he moved his hands, the right on top of yours on his right knee, the left interlocked with the hand Calum placed on his right shoulder. He took a deep breath, before confessing,

"I love you both, you two are my sunbeam and snowball but I'm terrified for our future. I don't know if you noticed, but I have no idea what I'm doing. I almost never do." 

You and Calum shared a look again but allowed Michael to continue. 

"I want to marry you both, but I feel I'm not good enough for the two of you. You two are both so amazing at your job, while all I do is get paid to play with kids," he took a deep breath, emotion overwhelming his steady tone, "A-and I love my job, my kids are great, but when we go tell people our careers, I feel I don't get the same respect, because I'm in elementary. That's not on you two, of course," he smiled softly, giving each hand a reassuring squeeze, but there was no ignoring the tear that was falling down his cheek, "but when I speak of forever, I want to mean it. I do mean it." He leaned in to your touch as you wiped his tears, his hand gently placed on your wrist. 

He sniffed then looked into your eyes, "I guess what I need to know is that our forevers last the same amount of time. It wouldn't be the same without either of you." 

You nodded, your own tears forming as you whispered, "Of course Cinnamon, there's nowhere else I rather be than here with you and Peppermint," you looked at Calum, who nodded, kissing Michael's head again as his own tears fell into the older man's hair. 

"We're sorry we never noticed, bunny. We're always here if you get scared or nervous. About your career, about us. Anything. Forever." Calum smiled and moved so he and Michael were face to face. 

Michael nodded,giving you both gentle kisses before rubbing his face, wiping away the remnants of the tears.

"God," he smiled softly, "I really am lucky. The best lovers in the world chose not only each other but me as well." 

"Nah, we're the lucky one babe." You slowly stood up, rubbing his back, "Are you ok if we start eating or would you like to come back to dinner and have cuddles?" 

He shook his head, "I'm starving," he smiled, "and I've been looking forward to this spaghetti since you and Sunbeam mentioned in our group chat."

You nodded and went to heat up the food as Calum prepared drinks.

"I don't know," Calum smirked as he sat Michael's glass of water down, "I'm kinda craving themattababy now." 

Michael frowned in confusion as he took small sips, before asking, "What's themattababy?"

"Nothing," Calum's grin grew as Michael had fallen into his trap, "What's the matter with you?" 

You bit your lip to hold your giggle as Michael let out a loud, disappointed groan. 

You set the plates back down and Michael gently grabbed your hand, doing his best to hold a serious expression but his failed attempts to not smile finally brought your giggle out. 

"Snowball, I'd like to return one boyfriend please. He worked fine until I realized he made terrible jokes. Very defective, cannot be put back on the market."

You smiled and played along, "Oh? And how much did you pay for this defective boyfriend?" 

"A whole makeout session," he smirked, winking at the boyfriend in question.

You laughed and glanced at Calum, who was trying to cover his grin with a playful pout as he set the last two cups down, "Well I am unable to provide a full refund at this moment, I can give you a coupon of equal value." You smirked.

"Deal." Michael grinned.

"Please," Calum playfully rolled his eyes, "You two wouldn't get rid of me that easily." he sat down at his usual spot of the circular table, on Michael's left and your right. 

You smiled and nodded, kissing Michael before sitting down, kissing Calum's cheek. 

"We're here for forever." Michael promised, smiling as his lovers nodded in confirmation.

Forever, you decided, would be the perfect starting spot for the men you loved.

[kylopen]

Dating an ‘edgy girl’

(House neutral)

Warnings: curse words.

Notes: some are set during the time you were at Hogwarts some aren’t.

Read the golden trio era version here

I don’t know why but it’s not letting me put the link down for this one so for the golden trio era one just go to my masterlist that is in my bio on my page

Sirius:

* As soon as you walked into the three broomsticks, he found himself looking.

* Trying to be subtle but leaning back on his chair to get a better look?

* Not so subtle.

* And then you approach their table, boots clicking against the floor.

* Sirius prepares himself for you to chat him up.

* And then you don’t.

* You simply ask if you can take one of their chairs.

* Baffled boi.

* Lily covers her mouth to hold in her laugh.

* Remus gives him a pat on the back “better luck next time”

* He would try to defend himself and say that you probably got too nervous to talk to him.

* “Or maybe she just needed a chair?” Lily would add with a giggle.

* You had heard all about Sirius’ reputation.

* He was a womaniser and you knew it. Best to stay away from that trouble.

* He ended up not being able to take his eyes off the girl who looked so different to the others.

* Your confidence and your odd sense of style made him feel all sorts of ways.

* As you and your friends leave he is quick to follow, holding your wrist.

* “Can we talk?”

* You’d nod and shoo your friends away.

* “I’m Sirius.” He’d hold out his hand for you to shake.

* “I know who you are”

* “Oh you do” he’d get all cocky.

* “Yeah the womaniser”

* His face drops.

* Oh shit.

* He was determined to make you realise he was serious about this.

* Rumours flew that Sirius hadn’t been seen with a girl in weeks

* So when he asked you on a date, you accepted but tried to act like you weren’t interested.

* But that smile.

* Those eyes.

* You fell for him faster than you’d care to admit.

* But he was the same.

* Your laugh was music to his ears and he wanted to hear it more.

* When the two of you finally got together, after weeks of Sirius hassling you, you agreed.

* A lot of people thought it would be a short fling:

* But weeks turned into months. Months to years.

* Both of your aesthetics fit so well.

* When you met Harry he loved you. Sirius knew he would.

* He hated how much heat you were under when he escaped from Azkaban.

* And because of how you looked people were quick to judge your involvement with the dark lord.

* That didn’t stop him from making you his wife when his name was cleared.

James:

* what a little shit.

* He made a joke about how you looked like Dracula’s wife.

* You cracked down on him.

* “Oh yeah specks?”

* He found his heart pounding at how you stood up for yourself the way you did.

* The confidence was jaw dropping.

* Lowkey turned him tf on

* He would follow you like a lost puppy from then on.

* “What is it potter”

* “I just got lost in your eyes that’s all. Trying to find my way out”

* He would be a real smart ass, learning what annoys you etc.

* Stupid little pick up lines.

* “Did you fall from heaven be—“

* You’d always stop him by finishing it.

* People couldn’t understand why the James Potter would be pining after someone so... well you know.

* No one. I repeat. No one could’ve pictured you two together until you actually got together.

* “Is it just me or do they actually look kind of good together?”

* No matter where you both went together you’d get odd looks.

* But he only saw how beautiful you were next to him.

Snape:

* You had met when you became one of the nurses at the school.

* It was the year Harry Potter had started.

* McGonagall made him go to the hospital wing despite his protests.

* You weren’t dressed in your work uniform as your shift was over but you had been called in hurriedly due to the troll.

* He couldn’t even look you in the eye.

* Not because he was intimidated by your dark exterior but more because he loved it.

* He expected you to roll your eyes in annoyance or tut but you didn’t.

* Your eyes. Your beautiful eyes crinkled as you smiled at him.

* There was no way that smile could be for him.

* But it was.

* “May I?” You gesture to his leg and he rolls up the trouser leg for you.

* You were so gentle and he couldn’t hell but melt into your touch.

* “This is a hell of a gash professor Snape”

* He would stay in silence for a moment before deciding on “Severus.”

* “Well Severus I have just the thing that’ll have that gone in a day”

* “Thank you miss...”

* “L/N. Y/N L/N”

* He would end up coming to the hospital wing frequently and you couldn’t help but giggle at the effort.

* “It’s a little scratch Severus”

* “But it hurts”

* “A potions master such as yourself would have plenty of things in his cupboard to help with the pain” you’d smirk.

* Blush blush blush.

* “Well I— I mean... you”

* “Would you like to have dinner with me Severus? We could pop into Hogsmeade”

* He would try to seem indifferent but he was buzzing on the inside.

* “I guess I could”

* Your relationship blossomed slowly but once he was comfortable enough to openly show you were together...

* You both looked the part.

* The king and queen of edge.

* The students wouldn’t believe that you had gone for Snape of all people.

* But you saw the kindness that was hidden by the shroud of darkness.

Lily:

* lily was a literal flower:

* So bright so beautiful so happy.

* People all assumed she would eventually end up with James, the rich, handsome boy.

* But she found herself drawn to another.

* You had met when you found her crying in the corner of the library.

* It was after she had been called a Mudblood by Snape.

* You didn’t like seeing her so sad.

* So you tried to cheer her up.

* “Can I... sit here?”

* She’d nod meekly and you’d place your books down on the table.

* “Are you okay?”

* “Oh yeah no. I am I just read a sad book that’s all.”

* She finally looks up.

* She was a little startled to find that the owner of the sweet voice was dressed so darkly.

* But she brushed that prejudice away as soon as it appeared.

* “Would you like to see a new spell I’ve learned?”

* You didn’t even give her a chance to answer as you made a beautiful rose bloom from the table.

* You rubbed your neck sheepishly as the colour remains black, not the white you were hoping for.

* “it’s beautiful” she’d crack a smile which made your heart melt.

* “I’m Lily by the way”

* “Y/N” you’d smile.

* People did not see this coming.

* Like no one did.

* When you started hanging around with her the boys were shook.

* Lily’s friends warmed to you pretty fast.

* James was a tad jealous:

* When you both got together, everyone was shook once more.

* The boys would make constant jokes about Lily liking girls.

* But honestly the two of you were so happy with each other.

* The black tulip and her pure lily.

Remus:

* You had heard of the rumours that surrounded Remus Lupin.

* You didn’t care much, it wasn’t like he had chosen that life.

* Either way it wasn’t proven and you weren’t going to judge him on rumours.

* You received backlash for the way you dressed anyways, an outsider you were.

* The first time you both had met was when you walked past them at their table in the great hall.

* “Hey Wolfy watch out it’s the vampire” a couple of boys would snicker.

* Lily would come to your defence, scolding the boys.

* “Yeah?” You’d turn and face them. ”if you’re not careful this vampire might get very angry and take all your blood until you’re an empty. Little. Sack”

* He was more than a little intrigued after witnessing that exchange and a little scared.

* The second time you met was in the astronomy tower. It was late into the night, way past curfew.

* you couldn’t sleep, so you made your way to the one place that could bring you peace.

* But it was taken. You spot his back as he stared out into the sky.

* You try to hide to give him privacy but he speaks out.

* “You can come out. I won’t bite” he would chuckle lightly.

* “I can’t promise the same” you’d joke and he’d turn to you with a smile.

* A smile that made your heart skip a beat.

* “So what’s the vampire doing up here and not in her coffin?”

* “What’s the werewolf doing up here and not in his doghouse”

* You’d both look at each other before laughing quietly.

* Neither of you expected to fall in love.

* You just did.

* It took Remus a long time to finally accept that someone really could love him.

* You were his knight in shining armour and you didn’t even know it.

[brittlebranchesandbossbitches]

As Retold by Ginger, Episode 33: Family Therapy

Brief summary

It’s April, and Macie’s 13th birthday is coming up. Incidentally, so is Mipsy’s on the same day, and she’s planning a huge bash with karaoke, dry ice machines, and sushi. Macie, on the other hand, thinks her parents are planning a surprise party for her because they stop talking anytime she comes into the room. When Ginger gets her invite to Mipsy’s party in the mail (courtesy of Courtney), she realizes that she hasn’t gotten an invite to the party Macie’s parents are allegedly throwing her. 

That day, Ginger and Dodie get the call from a very morose Macie, telling them that there is no party because her parents fucking forgot her birthday. This, naturally, gets Ginger and Dodie real heated, so they drag Macie out of the house and over to the office of the Drs. Lightfoot to confront them. Then, Ginger interrupts their session like she’s storming the damn Bastille, because you can always count on her righteous indignation to get shit done. 

Upon realizing their neglectful-ass parenting, the Drs. Lightfoot proceed to overcompensate for basically ignoring their only damn child for years by going for full-speed infantilization. They watch her sleep, put her in onesies, buy her a swing set and jungle gym. Macie’s enjoying it a little too much, though, even letting them plan a make-up birthday party at a petting zoo. On one hand, it’s great that they acknowledge her existence, but it’s also super horrifying to realize what they consider their last save point was. 

When Ginger decides to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with Macie about the pre-K of it all, Macie basically tells her to stay in her damn lane and storms off. Ginger, naturally, does no such thing, so even after a talk with the always-wise Lois, she decides that she’s gonna do as much damage control as possible since she can’t stop the party from happening. This, of course, is unnecessary because Courtney and Miranda decide it falls squarely in So Bad It’s Good territory.

Meanwhile, the boys go on a school field trip to see a naked mole rat, live and in-person. When Carl gets the chance to hold one, he drops it, freaking everyone else out. When it crawls up his pant leg, he unexpectedly loses his shit until he manages to fling it across the room. Of course, he plays it off like he wasn’t terrified, but it’s clear that he was shook. Carl won’t admit that to Hoodsey until later on after Blake calls him on it, and from there, things just slide into paranoia. Fortunately, Carl pulls himself out of it when he tries to barricade himself and Hoodsey in the doghouse, and they decide to redeem themselves by catching it. 

Spot the Clique

Donna and Dinah are sitting next to each other in the opening scene, and we see Casey in the front row later on with the clique-adjacent Mye Zuckerberg. 

Casey, Tracey(not Lefferts), Dinah, and Lonnie are at Mipsy’s party. 

Hope is spotted in the hallway as Dodie hands out invites to Macie’s party. 

Tracey (again, not Lefferts) is also at Macie’s party. 

Courtneyisms

Only Courtney would insist on her and Miranda doing a duet of “It’s Courtney” (the song from her talent show production) at Mipsy’s birthday party. Even on someone else’s birthday, she needs to be the center of attention for at least three minutes. 

Gingerisms

(At the office) “Macie, just go ask that nice, pointy woman if you can please speak to your parents.”

One can only hope that Ginger realizes that she treats Macie like a child, but in a different way than the Drs.Lightfoot do. Her unsolicited helpfulness takes the form of overprotection when Macie’s involved. (see also the Little Seal Girl episode)

The Dodie Desperation Index

Dodie is actually behaving herself in this episode, except for when the girls get to the office and she tries to dip out. 

Miranda’s Malice

The sheer deadpan of it all when she has to sing is hilarious, because it’s basically a law(that I just made up) that if your voice actor can sing, so can your character. Cree Summer can sing, therefore Miranda can sing. I’ll even take it one step further and say that the Cree Summer version of the OP is how Miranda probably sounds when she sings. 

(At Macie’s party) “Oh, it looks like a four-year-old threw up decorations everywhere.”

“Who would have thought Little Miss Adenoids would come up with something so retro that it’s almost cutting edge?” 

(Comforting Courtney) “Let’s go make nice with those innocent baby ducks again." *grumbles* “That should take your mind off yourself.”

There’s Something About Macie

“Hearing my name in public ranks right up there with cheese bloat.” Me too, sis. Me too. 

Is this the first episode we see Macie’s Asian-themed bedroom? I’m into the sunken, kidney-shaped bed.

Boys and their Toys

Hoodsey: Chaps. Gents. It really gets on my nerves when he’s not consistent. 

Hoodsey again: Cripes, Blake, it was a gag. As in “You make me wanna...”

So, in their quest to conquer their fear, the boys track the escaped mole rat. At one point, Carl picks up and examines its poop. 

Also, Hoodsey has been so terrified that the mole rat might be in the sewers that he hasn’t pooped in days, if not weeks. 

Continuity

April 22nd is on a Sunday.

If you listen to Chet’s birthday announcement dronings at the beginning of the episode, you’ll notice that there are two kids turning 12 in April. This is the first indication that there are 6th graders at Lucky Jr. High. 

This is clearly a 7th grade episode that landed in Season 2 for some reason. Chronologically, this would go somewhere near the end of Season 1 before Camp Caprice. 

The episode pretty much covers the entire month of April, because we started with the month’s birthday announcements, and ended the weekend after Macie’s birthday, if not the weekend after that.

Trivial Things

Macie and Mipsy share a birthday, April 22nd, making them both Tauruses. 

Macie is actually the oldest of the three girls. This tells us that Dodie and Ginger have birthdays between April 23 and October 1(to meet the school cut off date for enrollment)

Ginger wanted to make a cake for Macie’s birthday. Lois said she just bought soy flour, as if they’d just run out. I now want to know why they keep soy flour in their house on the regular. Is Macie gluten-intolerant? FODMAP-intolerant? Does she have Celiac disease? Do they keep it for her or do they use it themselves, too? 

The brown girl in the green glasses is named Serena, in case you see her in other episodes. 

[kinktae]

hot rod || (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.

pairing: greaser!hoseok x reader

word count: 10k

genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff

warnings: VIRGIN KINK, semi-public fingering, oral (f), brief handjob, unprotected sex, lots of banter

A/N: SMUT WRITTEN BY @httpjeon AKA THE LOML. Photo of hobi originally by twt user GUWOLJK! Thank you to @mortaljin @please-donts @yoongspeach @haroo--mar @ms-universe @usangie-tsukino @attaeboy and @heartweaver for allowing me to use their names!

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"Seriously, why the hell didn't Joon drive?" Taehyung whined, pressing two fingers against his already swollen eye.

Hoseok let out a chuckle as he slid into his and his boys' usual booth.

As per tradition, Fridays called for lunch at Rosie's Diner.

An old woman by the name of Rosie Salinger was the owner of the joint; she had been running the diner since right about around the turn of the 20th century. Her age didn't mean much it would seem, as she was as notoriously feisty — her tongue and mind as sharp as the red cat-like glasses she sported on the bridge of her nose.

Hoseok let his eyes flicker over to the annoyed blond.

Taehyung was typically the group's designated driver, but seeing as he no longer had a car — a result of a drag race gone south — Jungkook had driven this time around. Problem was that Jungkook was what one might call an... inexperienced driver.

On the way over to Rosie's a squirrel had paused in the middle of the road and with Jungkook being the anxious driver that he was his foot found the break pedal abruptly, sending Taehyung straight into the rearview mirror.

"I told you not to go for pinks, Tae. If you still had your car Jungkook wouldn't have to be driving." Namjoon shrugged as he took his seat next to Hoseok, the two youngest boys mirroring his action as they took their places across the table.

"Hey!" Taehyung spoke up, "I told you it was too fucking soon to bring up Rachel like that."

Taehyung's friends let out a collective laugh at the sound of the name he had given the beat-up vehicle, only causing the blond boy to become even more irritable.

"Rachel was my old man's car, I'm in the doghouse till I turn forty." He continued.

Namjoon shrugged, "It's your fault for challenging Min Yoongi to a race."

At Namjoon's words, Taehyung's eyes narrowed into slits, nostrils flaring with disdain.

The name Min Yoongi had always been a sore spot for Taehyung, their dislike for one another reigning back all the way to middle school. It was only a matter of time before one challenged the other.

It all had happened so suddenly; Taehyung and the others had run into Yoongi and his boys at the gas station. All it took was for one slick comment from the Min boy for Taehyung to finally snap, challenging him to a drag race to where the winner got ownership of the loser's car.

"For the record, I only suggested going for pinks because I was pissed and I thought I would take his car." Taehyung defended.

At his friend's words, Hoseok couldn't help but laugh, "Get serious! Min is an asshole but there was no way your hunk of junk would've won against him. His machine is absolute cherry, not to mention to it tears ass on concrete."

"I know, why do you think I jumped at the chance to take his car?" Taehyung pouted bitterly, eyes flickering to Jungkook, "Instead, I lost Rachel and gained a concussion."

Jungkook let out an exasperated, clearly fed up with the topic.

"What did you want me to do? Run over the squirrel?" The youngest pressed. "How was I supposed to know you'd go flying in the windshield like that?"

"Well, shit! Forgive me for not being fucking attached to your car!" Taehyung chided sarcastically causing Hoseok to chuckle.

"That reminds me, you boys hear about those new cars models that are coming with belts?" Namjoon chimed in, changing the subject entirely.

"Belts?" Jungkook questioned, turning away from his bruised best friend entirely.

"Yeah. They're meant to hold you to your seat or something like that."

It was at this point in the conversation that Hoseok had become uninterested; certainly, he was interested in cars but he hadn't managed to catch a wink of sleep last night so he couldn't help but lose concentration, his eyes running lazily over the rest of the diner.

It was surprisingly slow for lunchtime, he noted. Only two other tables seemed to be occupied by the looks of it, both couples eating away at their meals quietly.

Was anyone even working today?

His gaze shifted over to the long counter that sat in the middle of the diner where the staff usually stood, only to pause as he met the eyes of a girl he hadn't noticed when he had first walked in.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the boy caught your stare, quickly looking away as you moved to occupy yourself with folding napkins.

Hoseok furrowed his eyebrows.

You were an employee here, obviously. You wore the usual uniform: a pink and collared button-up dress, the white apron wrapped around your waist embroidered with the diner's name.

However, it wasn't the uniform that confused him, but rather the fact that he had absolutely no clue who you were. Hoseok and the others had been coming to Rosie's for a long time and there wasn't a single face in the staff he didn't know.

The last person to join Rosie's staff had been a girl named Johara who Taehyung had become outrageously infatuated with, but even she had been working here for ages now.

"All I'm saying is car seats with belts on 'em sound ridiculous." A voice argued, bringing Hoseok's attention back to his table.

"Henry Ford seems to disagree." Namjoon replied causing the youngest to raise an eyebrow.

"So what? We're just meant to all start wearing these car belts? That'll never catch on." Jungkook countered.

"Who knows? Maybe these seat belt things will become the new standard for generations to come. Hell, they could be an instrumental part in saving thousands of lives all over the world." Namjoon shrugged nonchalantly as if he had said something as mundane as today's forecast.

The table fell silent as they stared at the tall man, glancing amongst themselves they contemplated his words.

Hoseok took this opportunity to speak, clearing his throat.

"Hey, there's a new waitress standing over at the counter but don't–"

At the mention of a new girl, all three boys turned to look your way, causing Hoseok to physically cringe.

"–all look at her at once." Hoseok continued aimlessly, a frown now present. "Way to keep it cool, boys."

"She's making her way over here."

"Be cool, be cool."

On cue all three boys turned back to face one another, shifting back into more laidback positions.

Curiosity got the best of Hoseok, however, and he glanced over his shoulder to see you making your way over to their table, hands extended out by your sides as you carefully made your way over, bright pink roller-skates on your feet. You reached the boys with a slight wobble, a sheepish smile on your face.

"Cute skates you got there, kitten." Hoseok complimented as soon as you arrived, throwing you entirely off guard.

You could feel heat prickle at your cheeks as you took in the handsome man. His hair was dark and slicked back, a single strand of hair having had fallen down onto his forehead in a way that seemed both effortless and purposeful. You could see the white t-shirt that poked out from underneath his leather jacket and you could feel the way you lost grip on all thoughts other than him.

Hoseok cocked his head at the sight of you standing there looking flustered, a small chuckle falling from his lips.

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased, cocking up an eyebrow.

Suddenly remembering that you were meant to be doing a job, you snapped back into reality, clearing your throat as you tried to ignore the amused looks the four men wore.

"S-Sorry." You apologized through a forced laugh.

You didn't mean to be this awkward; you had always been somewhat shy and the fact that these men happened to be as attractive as they were certainly didn't make things any easier for you.

When you first saw the boys enter the diner clad in their cuffed jeans and slicked-back hair, you nearly contemplated going back into the storage room to ask one of your coworkers to serve them instead. But seeing as they were on break and one of the boys had already seen you staring, you knew you had to go ahead and serve them.

"Good afternoon, my name is Y/N and I'll be your server for today." You told them politely, reciting the words Rosie had had you memorize on your first day.

"Why? Where's Juliet?" Taehyung spoke bluntly, causing your eyebrows to furrow slightly.

The sound of a foot shoving itself into a shin rang out from underneath the table, causing the blonde boy to cry out.

"Ow, fuck's sake!" Taehyung hissed lowly.

"Ignore Taehyung, he hasn't quite figured out how to open his mouth and not sound like an ass yet." Namjoon explained calmly, ignoring the glare that Taehyung was burning into the side of his face. "We're regulars and Juliet is our usual waitress. It's nothing against you, he was just surprised."

"Taehyung." You thought out loud, the name sounding familiar.

"Yeah?" The blond boy responded causing you to jump.

You hadn't meant to say your thoughts out loud. You had remembered that your coworker Johara had specifically mentioned a boy by the name Taehyung on your first day, pleading for you to warn her when he came in.

"Oh, no. Sorry! I just— a coworker, um, mentioned you ." You admitted hesitantly.

At your words, Taehyung's eyes lit up.

"Really? Was it Johara? Is she here?" Taehyung questioned excitedly.

Your mouth opened and closed, knowing you shouldn't have said anything but not knowing how to fix this.

"Oh, uh, I don't–"

The sound of the storage room door swinging open cut your sentence short and sent all heads turning in its direction. The person of interest turned out to be the very co-worker in question, a pink bubble of gum pushing past Johara's painted lips.

Her head turned towards the crowd of eyes that were fixed on her, her bubble popping as she saw Taehyung.

Rolling her eyes, she peeled her eyes off of all of you,  making her way over to the counter.

"Excuse me, ladies, my lady love awaits." Taehyung sang happily, slipping out from booth to walk over to Johara.

You let out a sigh, "Crap, I was supposed to warn her."

"Warn her?"

"Warn her if saw Taehyung, yeah." You admitted causing the three remaining boys to laugh.

"Poor kid. Ain't that a bite." Hoseok smirked and suddenly you became aware of the way the man's eyes had yet to leave your face. You cleared your throat.

"So, what can I get you all?"

You did your best to take the boys' orders, hands shaking slightly as you wrote down onto your notepad. The boys were polite enough but you still couldn't shake your nerves, especially with the way the boy you had overheard being called Hoseok kept looking at you.

As you retreated back towards the kitchen, Taehyung made his way back over to his table, a sour pout on his lips.

"Hey, nosebleed. How'd it go with your lover?" Jungkook mused.

"What's it to ya?" Taehyung snapped back, causing the table to let out a round of Ooo's.

It wasn't a surprise that Johara had shut down Taehyung's advances, she wasn't subtle in her disinterest after all. However, Taehyung was nothing if not blindly persistent.

"It's okay, Tae. You can't win 'em all." Hoseok reassured.

"He can't win any of them..." Jungkook added lowly, covering the comment with a strategic cough.

Taehyung glared at the youngest boy, "You're cruisin' for a bruisin', you know that right?"

"Bet he'd lose that fight too." Namjoon added slickly.

Jungkook let out an amused laugh at the older boy's comment, only to be cut short as Taehyung trapped him into a headlock, digging his fist into the top of his head.

"Come on! Let go! That wasn't even me that time!" Jungkook protested, shoving an elbow into Taehyung's ribs in an attempt to free himself of the blond's grip.

"Sorry to interrupt," You spoke up suddenly, appearing suddenly. "I have your drinks."

Taehyung quickly let go of the now disgruntled looking boy, smiling at you politely as you reached over to place their drinks in front of them.

The boys were quick to begin drinking but Hoseok was far too enthralled with the way your hair had been suddenly put up into a messy ponytail to bother reaching for his.

Namjoon was the first to notice Hoseok's interest in you, straw in his mouth as he observed the way his friend's eyes followed you even after you walked away from the table.

"You like her, Hobi?" Namjoon asked.

Hoseok fought off a smirk, thinking back on how flustered you had gotten when he had first caught your eyes, "She's cute."

"Go and get her, stud." Namjoon offered, clapping a hand onto the back of Hoseok's shoulder encouragingly.

"Yeah?"

"Why not? Your day can't end up any worse than Taehyung's," Jungkook offered, "he's got a bruised ego and eye."

"You're the one who gave me the shiner, dumbnuts." Taehyung quipped immediately, turning to Jungkook angrily as Namjoon laughed.

Hoseok didn't have time to catch Jungkook's reply as he already up on his feet and making his way over to where you stood behind the counter cleaning the milkshake station.

"Y/N, right?" He began as he reached you, causing you to squeak in surprise.

You had been too busy wiping up spilled chocolate milk to notice that the leather-clad boy had plopped down onto one of the many cushioned stools as he watched you with interest.

"Y-Yeah!" You replied shakily, grabbing a napkin as you began to dry your hands.

"I don't bite, you know."

You blinked in confusion, "I'm sorry?"

"You just seem like you're afraid of me or something." Hoseok pointed out causing your eyes to widen.

"No, no! It's not you! Really! I'm just really awkward around attractive people." You explained without thinking, immediately wishing you could disappear into the ground.

Hoseok's shit-eating grin that followed your words only solidified your shame.

"Well, in that case, I'm flattered." He mused.

The hem of your apron was in your hands, abused by your nervous tugging as you offered him a shy smile.

"Oh, did you want a milkshake?" You asked, realizing he probably came over for a reason.

"If that'll buy me more time to talk to you then sure." He shrugged easily.

Staring at the handsome man, your stomach did a flip as you realized exactly what he meant by that.

"Of course, you could always agree to go out with me and that'd give us loads of time to talk." He continued causing a nervous laugh to slip past your lips.

You were flattered.

Really, you were. And a large part of you was happy that he had asked you out. The only trouble was the moment you had first left the boys table, Johara had gone out of her way to explain to you just exactly who the group of boys were.

She had attended high school with them and as far as she knew, their reputations had held up even past graduation. They were trouble, she had told you. They were exactly the kind of guys your parents often warned you about; dirty troublemakers that would start fights needlessly, sleep around with the neighborhood's daughters as they danced along obscenely to rock n' roll.

Your own high school was home to the same kind of boys after all and you had seen the way they had wiggled their way into your friends' pants, only to forget all about them the next day.

And as much as you felt awful for assuming anything of Hoseok, you knew you'd just make a fool of yourself if you agreed to go out with him. The farthest you had gone with a guy was a sloppy ten-second make-out session prompted on by a juvenile game of spin the bottle.

"Ah, I'm sorry... I'm probably not the kind of girl you'd be interested in."

Hoseok furrowed his eyebrows.

"Uh... What?"

The sheer look of confusion on Hoseok's face almost made you open your mouth to retract your statement, but you continued on.

"You and your friends kind of have a... reputation." You explained.

"Huh." He mused dryly, further furrowing his eyebrows. "And that would be?"

You bit down on your bottom lip, unsure of how frank to be.

"That you guys are trouble and don't treat girls the way you should. You know... wham, bam, thank you ma'am kind of guys."

At your words, Hoseok's expression dropped, an unreadable one taking its place.

"I'm just not the kind of girl that can go along with that. I'm sorry." You apologized quietly.

Hoseok stared at you for a moment.

It wasn't what you said that bothered him, it was the fact that he couldn't deny it. He fooled around a lot and probably had a list of fathers who hated him and while he really didn't care, sitting across from you as you stood in your pink skates and waitress uniform, he couldn't help but feel as if he had been reprimanded. He almost felt... embarrassed.

As much as he wanted to give you a reason to go out with him, he just couldn't.

He didn't let himself dwell on the fact for too long, however, tucking his hands into his jacket's pockets.

"Don't be. It's cool." He shrugged nonchalantly.

For a second, you worried that you might have offended him, but his laidback disposition convinced you otherwise.

"I'll see you around, Y/N." Hoseok offered you a small close-lipped smile to which you responded with one of your own, eyes following as he hopped off the stool and made his way back over to his table.

Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook were all in their own conversations when Hoseok slid back into the booth, their conversation fading out at the sight of his return.

"Well?" Namjoon pressed when Hoseok remained quiet.

Hoseok had been in his thoughts from the moment he left your side and hadn't even noticed the way his three friends were all staring at him expectedly.

He leaned back into his seat, "Oh. Nah."

"No way." Taehyung gaped in disbelief.

"You struck out too?!" Jungkook chimed in.

Hoseok let out a small laugh, trying to brush off their disbelief, "She said she knew about our reputation or whatever. Wasn't interested."

"Damn. We've been here for 30 minutes. Word sure does travel fast, huh?" Jungkook added with a laugh.

The table fell silent for a few beats, Hoseok's heavy mood tangible.

"Hey, don't sweat it, Daddy-o!" Taehyung spoke up finally, taking on a playful tone. "She was probably a real square anyway. You're better off."

"Yeah man, she's like a baby deer, she could hardly stand on her own two feet." Jungkook noted.

Namjoon knew the two youngest were just trying to cheer Hoseok up but he knew his best friend well enough to know his smiles in return were merely surface level.

"Yeah." Hoseok replied monotonously, letting his eyes fall across the room to where you were stood in front of another table of customers, notepad in hand and a polite smile on your pretty face.

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A week had gone by since that fateful day that Hoseok asked you out. After that shot to his ego, he swore to himself he wouldn't spend another moment dwelling on the new girl working at Rosie's. He told himself he'd spend his time with his boys fixing up his car, maybe hitting up a former flame or two if he found himself bored enough.

All he knew was that he certainly wouldn't spend his days moping about and hung up on some chick he hardly knew that wouldn't give him the time of day.

So imagine his frustration as he found himself standing in Rosie's parking lot, heart in his throat as he leaned up against the side of his red Ford Thunderbird, waiting for the diner to finally close and for you to walk out.

Try as he might, he couldn't shake you from his mind. He wasn't entirely sure what he was planning on saying to you although he had practiced several different speeches in his head, but he knew he'd go crazy if he didn't at least try one last time. For the first time ever, Hoseok could sympathize with Taehyung and his hopeless attempts at getting the girl he liked to go out with him.

You were sat at a random table inside the diner, slipping a foot into one of your cherished sneakers, your feet thoroughly appreciating the non-wheeled shoes you changed into once the day was done. You could hear your coworkers chatting conversationally as the three of them laughed about something a customer had said today.

You weren't as familiar with your coworkers Alice and Thea as you were with Johara but in the short time you had worked beside them, you had grown to like them.

"Would you want to join, Y/N?" Alice's voice spoke up suddenly, catching your attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry! What was that?" You apologized causing your coworker to laugh.

"I asked if you'd like to come over for dinner. We usually have a ladies night at my apartment and we'd love it if you joined." Alice offered politely.

Your eyes quickly flickered over to Johara, wondering if it was really alright to intrude on your coworkers' plans like this. You hadn't known them for more than a week but the idea of getting to know them over a warm meal sounded like a pleasant one.

"Are you sure?" You turned back towards Alice after Johara sent you a nod.

"Yeah, it'll be fun! We always have a blast. Don't we, girls?" Alice chimed.

"Loads!" Thea assured.

Johara let out a hum in agreement and smirked, "Food, wine and complaining about men. Can't get much better than that."

A collective giggle broke out between the girls and you felt yourself start to grow excited. You hadn't gotten a chance to properly make friends since first moving into town and this was as good an opportunity as any.

"In that case, why not? Sounds fun!"

The four of you made your way out of the diner eagerly, talking amongst yourselves as you tried to decide what food you were all in the mood for. Thea had been in the middle of pitching her suggestion of hash and corn fritters when Alice let out a noise of surprise.

"Isn't that that Hoseok boy?" She observed, causing everyone to turn to where she was looking.

Your heart did a flip as you realized that standing in the parking lot was the same boy who had asked you out, his familiar leather jacket illuminated by the light of a nearby lamppost that cascaded down on him.

"He's holding a rose." Thea added.

"How romantic!" Alice gushed. "What is he doing here?"

"Oh, crap." You gaped, face growing warm.

Alice and Thea turned to you automatically, interests suddenly piqued.

"Whaddya mean by that? Is he here for you?" Alice's eyes widened, looking far too excited about this whole situation.

You turned away from where Hoseok stood, heart fluttering with the way he was looking over at you, rose in hand and bottom lip tucked away in his mouth.

"He... asked me out last week."

Alice and Thea let out small noises in surprise, matching grins falling onto their face. You shook your head quickly.

"I told him no, though!" You told them.

Alice furrowed her brow and tutted, "Now why'd you do that?"

"Because she's got a brain that works." Johara spoke up finally, rolling her eyes.

Alice let out a huff, pointing a polished finger at the younger girl.

"You shush." She reprimanded, "You can't be trusted when it comes to boy problems. You think men are pigs."

"That's because men are pigs." Johara stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms as she raised a brow stubbornly.

"Go on, Y/N. Don't leave the poor guy waiting. Go see what he wants." Thea nudged your shoulder, pulling your attention away from your bickering co-workers.

Glancing over your shoulder, you bit down on your lip. Thea was right. You should go see what Hoseok wanted and at least hear him out. Sending her a nod, you began to make your way over to him, nerves rising up your throat.

Hoseok let out a breath at the sight of you walking over to him. For a moment, he was afraid you were going to ignore him altogether and continue on your way home. He had absolutely no idea what he'd do if you left him standing here– actually, he had no idea what he'd do now with you on your way over to him.

Hoseok let his eyes fall onto the rose in his hand, trying to grab ahold of just one the millions of thoughts that were running across his mind right now.

You reached Hoseok in a matter of seconds, pausing in front of him as you crossed your arms across your chest, the cold night nipping at your bare arms.

"Hi." You breathed finally, Hoseok's eyes flickering up to meet yours.

You looked about as nervous as he felt but lovely all the same, your hair was pinned back neatly this time, unlike the messy ponytail he had first seen you sport.

"Um... this is for you." Hoseok began, extending the flower out to you awkwardly.

The side of your mouth twitched up slightly, finding the gesture oddly endearing. You took the rose from his hand before turning your attention back to him.

"Right so," Hoseok cleared his throat, shifting slightly, "I'm not any good with this cheesy romantic stuff."

"You're doing alright so far." You teased lightly. Hoseok shook his head.

"No, really. I thought I oughta buy you a whole bouquet of roses but when I got to the flower shop I realized I couldn't afford it so I just stole a rose when the vendor wasn't looking." He admitted with a frown.

A surprised laugh slipped from your lips. You weren't expecting such blunt honesty, especially not paired with the way Hoseok currently resembled a puppy that had been caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing.

At the sound of your laughter, the sides of Hoseok's mouth curled upwards. It was a pretty sound and it was just enough to encourage him to continue talking.

"In fact, everything you've heard about me is probably true. I'm not someone who takes things seriously. And I'm probably not the kind of guy you're looking for."

Hoseok paused for a moment before letting out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't know where I'm going with this. Man, I really am shit at this stuff."

There was something about Hoseok's candidness that was understatedly charming, you decided. The moment you had seen him standing outside with a rose in hand like some romance film protagonist, you were expecting a long-winded speech about how he secretly longed for love and stability– that there was more to him than leather jackets and trouble. You liked that he was honest with you, even if it didn't paint him in the most positive light.

"What are you asking, Hoseok?" You asked softly, holding his gaze.

Hoseok let out a sigh, "I'm asking for a chance. I can't give you a reason why you should give me one. I'm not sure what will come from it, and I can't promise I'm the best guy for you but if you can somehow overlook all that then I'd like to take you out to a movie tonight."

You brought your free hand up to your neck, letting your fingers wrapped themselves around the chain of your necklace. You made the decision to reject Hoseok so easily last week, but now, for whatever reason, with him standing here in front of you once more you weren't sure what to say.

Hoseok stared at you, your silent contemplation slightly dissolving his nerve.

"No funny business. Just a date where we get to know each other. If that's what you want." Hoseok placed a hand over his heart, raising the other hand into the air as if to take an oath, "I promise to have you home early and in one piece."

You bit down onto your lip, letting silence fall over you both as you tried to come to a decision.

"Are you writing a book? Go on and say yes already!"

The voice that called out from the distance caught both Hoseok and you by surprise, and you turned around to see Johara and Thea shushing a giggling Alice, who flashed two encouraging thumbs your way.

You suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape, turning to face Hoseok instead. He had shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans, looking incredibly nervous as he awaited your response silently.

He looked... cute.

You stared at him for just a second before a small smile broke out onto your face. Intertwining your hands behind your back, you nudged the tip of your shoe against his shyly.

"Alright. Let's get outta here." You finally agreed, causing Hoseok to grin lopsidedly.

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Surprisingly, the car ride to the movies was far from awkward, as you were expecting it to be.

Conversation between Hoseok and you occurred easily, mainly due to the fact that Hoseok was quite clearly a natural extrovert, but also due to how much you had in common.

Hoseok had casually mentioned that he had let his younger sister, Elena, name his car 'Bambi' after her favorite movie and you enthused about your own cartoon loving little sister.

"Angie's gonna be a handful when she's older but she's actually quite fun to hang out with for her age." You had told him.

"God, Elena never leaves me alone. Especially whenever the boys are over; she follows Jungkook around like a lost puppy. Drives me crazy." He shook his head.

"She can't be that bad if you let her name your car." You pointed out with a hum.

Hoseok flashed you a guilty grin, as if you had a point, "Yeah, well. I guess the little ankle-biter's not too bad when she's not buggin' me."

The rest of the car ride was filled with laughter-filled conversation about Hoseok's friends and Rosie's number one competitor, Daisy's Drive-Thru, interrupted now and again as Little Richard and Elvis Presley played on cassette.

Even when you reached the drive-in movie theater and the movie started to begin, neither of you found yourselves uncomfortable or in need of something to talk about, enjoying the way you found each other's presence familiar yet new all the same.

You had just begun to find yourself getting sucked into watching the movie when you felt Hoseok shift beside you, heat finding your face as he threw his arm around the back of your shared seat.

It wasn't a subtle move in the slightest but the gesture was endearing in its own right and before you could help yourself, you found yourself leaning into him, playing along in the cliché. After all, it was cold and Hoseok was undoubtedly warm, both inside and out.

Hoseok didn't mean to stare, really; he told himself he was going to watch the movie. But it was hard to pay attention when your reactions to the film were so genuine and pure– far more entertaining than the movie he had paid for you both to see.

It wasn't until Hoseok let out a chuckle at one of your gasps that you finally turned to face him, only to see that his focus was on your profile and not the movie like it was meant to be.

"Hey! Watch the movie, not me!" You frowned, nudging your shoulder into his.

"I'm trying!" He defended, a feigned innocent expression on his face.

"Liar." You accused, narrowing your eyes. "This movie's really interesting, you know. Marilyn Monroe is a great actress."

Hoseok didn't reply, choosing to just stare at you fondly instead. You shoved his side once again when he ignored your statement.

"What is it?" You pressed, not used to this much attention on you.

A lopsided grin crept on his heart-shaped lips as he shrugged, "Nothing. You're just cute."

You let out a small noise of surprise and before you could open your mouth to reply, a warm hand found your jaw and Hoseok's mouth met yours.

The kiss was chaste, nothing more than a peck really as Hoseok pulled away just as quickly as he had pulled you in, shaking his head.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself. I won't do that again, I promise." He apologized sincerely, to which you replied with a stunned nod.

You hadn't been expected the kiss and as embarrassing as it was, the small peck had left you literally dumbfounded.

You weren't upset that Hoseok had kissed you. On the contrary, the kiss was pleasant, his warm lips and hand had felt nice against your skin. And it wasn't as if you disliked him. He was honest, funny and kind and the fact that your heart was now pounding the way it was probably meant you liked him more than you probably should.

Which is why you had been left speechless, having no idea what to do or say now.

You had made a mental note to remain cautious of him right before you had agreed to go on the date with him but it was just so easy to let your guard down when you were talking to him. The hour you had spent with him alone so far was enough to make you wonder why the hell you had listened to Johara's warnings in the first place.

More importantly, however, you were wondering if he would kiss you again.

You turned towards the movie and the two of you sat silently as an inner conflict waged in your head. On one hand, this would be happening very quickly. While on the other, you weren't exactly sure if you even really cared.

The sound of Hoseok laughing caught you by surprise and you looked over to see him staring at the massive screen, finally watching the movie.

He had a lovely laugh, the kind that showed off his teeth and caused his cheeks to go round. It was carefree and sincere and it made your heart skip a beat and before you could second guess yourself, you pushed yourself off of the seat and threw a leg over his lap, straddling him as you pressed your lips to his.

For just second, Hoseok seemed stunned, as if he wasn't expecting you to kiss him, but the second ticked away quickly as he began to reciprocate.

It started soft, curious even, for neither of you knew just how far to take it before he brought his hand up to your chin up to deepen the kiss.

You whimpered into it, but before it could go on too long, he pulled away– both of your breathing labored slightly.

"Are you... are you sure about this?" He asked, licking his lips as if chasing your taste.

"Yeah, I am." You muttered, meeting his eyes to show your resolve.

Nodding his understanding, he met your lips again, this time cupping the back of your head to keep you close to him. His other hand cupped your hip, lightly stroking your skin through your clothes with his thumb. His touch was gentle, soft while his kiss was experienced and deep.

The way he sighed and grunted into the kiss had your heart pounding and your body lighting up with arousal.

The night was cold but everything about Hoseok felt incredibly hot.

He nipped your lip with his teeth before laving over the spot with his tongue. The kiss grew more urgent as his tongue found yours while his hands gripped your waist to move you against his lap, grinding against one another lightly.

Suddenly, amidst your passion and groping, a thought crossed your mind, causing you to pull away. Hoseok leaned his head back against the seat, staring up at you through lidded eyes as he licked his lips slightly.

"What is it, baby?" He cooed, the pet name sending shivers down your spine.

"I just..." You swallowed thickly, mindlessly playing with the zipper on his jacket. "I really like you and I like this but... to be honest, I have no clue what I'm doing."

"What do you mean?" He shook his head in confusion, strong brows furrowing.

You pressed your lips together, not wanting to tell him but knowing he should know.

"I-I'm, you know," You shyly met his gaze, "a virgin."

There was a beat of silence before Hoseok's eyes shut and he muttered a soft 'fuck'. You watched him bite his lip and you swore you could feel his whole body shudder as his hands tighten around your hips.

"That's okay." He cooed, nodding his head.

"You don't mind?" You felt a little insecure, wondering if a guy like Hoseok would be cool with fooling around with a virgin.

"I really don't." He breathed, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours. "And if you want to keep going, I can make you feel good... if you'd let me."

"I would like that." You replied somewhat bashfully, pushing down any insecurities or second thoughts that plagued your mind. You wanted this. You wanted him to touch you. If just kissing felt this good then you could only imagine what it'd feel like if you let him actually touch you.

With you still on top of him, Hoseok repositioned himself so that he could lay back in the seat, keeping you steady on top on him. Beneath your hands, you could feel the soft leather of the seat. This time as you shared a kiss his hands were anything but innocent, traveling under the skirt of your dress to touch your thighs.

Your body, unused to such intimate touches, immediately erupted in goosebumps at his feather-light touches. A whimper turned into a moan against his lips which prompted him to bring one of his fingers up to your mouth to quiet you.

"You have to be quiet, baby." He whispered, a little smirk on his pink lips. Despite his warning, you could feel how hard he was beneath you. "Unless, you like the idea that someone can see you, huh?"

The idea of someone looking over and seeing what Hoseok was doing to you had your face exploding hotly before you hid your face against Hoseok's shoulder. He hummed softly, enjoying your innocent reaction. Smiling, he moved forward to bring you into another kiss.

You shivered when his wandering fingers moved to the apex of your thighs, pressing the deft digits over your hot cunt. You were wet, you knew it before his fingers slid beneath the elastic of your panties to touch your wet slit directly. Your thighs trembled once his fingers found your clit, hard and eager for his touch.

"You're so wet, kitten." He cooed, keeping his voice low and his lips close to your ear so you could clearly hear him. "Does it feel good to be touched like this?"

"Y-Yes." You whined, clinging onto him and mindlessly arching your hips to get more of his touch.

"You gotta stay quiet, can't let anyone know you're getting your cute little pussy touched, huh?" He cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before circling your entrance with his middle finger. You let out a soft sigh as the digit sunk into you, giving you the slightest stretch your body hadn't felt before. "Does it hurt?" He checked, sinking his finger to the first knuckle.

"N-No, not at all." You whispered, your voice cracking when Hoseok's finger found a soft spot inside you.

"Oh," Hoseok chuckled, prodding the spot again and this time you had to bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself from crying out.

"There it is."

"Ah, that feels good!" You choked, squeezing your eyes shut to let yourself feel.

Hoseok felt like he was in heaven, your hot cunt clenching around his digit. He was careful as he introduced a second finger, his index, beside his middle. Your body tightening for a moment, feeling a slight sting from the stretch.

However, as his thumb found your clit, the sting was quickly forgotten. You keened, clinging onto him as you felt that pleasure boiling up inside you, ready to let go.

"Are you gonna cum, kitten?" He whispered, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to bring his mouth to yours. You nodded, nearly crying out if it hadn't been for him locking you in the kiss.

The sound from the movie had turned into nothing but background noise at this point, your mind was muddled with the oncoming pleasure.

With a final press to your clit and his lithe digits abusing your g-spot, you were coming. Hoseok held your body close to his as you trembled in his lap, cunt clenching around his fingers.

As you came down, Hoseok pulled his fingers from your pussy, making you whimper. With your panties covering you properly once again, you knew that they would have to be thrown in the wash as soon as possible.

You slumped against his body, head on his shoulders. He gave you the best view of his fingers– covering in your cum and still wet.

Your cheeks were on fire and if you weren't too tired to speak, you would've protested the way he popped those fingers in his mouth.

At the sound of him letting out a satisfied groan at the taste of you on his tongue, you covered your face and let out a small whimper.

Hoseok couldn't help but laugh, finding your small display of embarrassment outrageously adorable.

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The rest of the movie passed by quickly, you hardly caught the ending with the way Hoseok kept tickling your sides and stealing kisses from you.

You almost didn't want to go home. You were having such a good time with Hoseok and to be frank, the greedy part of you want to keep messing around with him in this way, his touches and kisses almost addicting.

You had sulked all the ride home, even as Hoseok walked you to your door you couldn't help but pout at the thought that your date was over already. That is until you noticed the note that had been taped to the front door of your house.

"They're not home." You announced in surprise, once you read it.

Your parents had left a handwritten note telling you that they had taken your little sister, Angie, to see the newest Disney movie and that there was frozen casserole in the fridge waiting for you.

Peaking over your shoulder, Hoseok read the note with a nod, "Oh yeah, that's the movie that's scheduled to play after the one we just watched. Elena told me it was good."

Processing this new information, your insides fluttered with excitement as you realized this meant you'd have the house to yourself for the next hour or so. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, you stepped in.

"Any chance you might want to hang out inside then? Since my family isn't home?" You turned to face Hoseok innocently as if you weren't playing out filthy scenes of what hanging out might entail in your head.

"I'd love to." Hoseok grinned, moving to walk in.

"W-Wait!" You panicked suddenly, halting his movements. "Um... Could you move your car out of our driveway and park somewhere out of sight, actually? Just in case they come home early or something. I'd give my parents a heart attack if they came home to me with a strange boy in the house. I don't usually do these kinds of things."

Usually was a far too generous term. You had never done anything remotely like this before and you couldn't help but want to take every measurable precaution that you could. Not to mention you needed a moment to clean yourself up and change out of your now forever tainted Rosie's uniform.

"You're cute when you're nervous. You know that?" Hoseok cooed with an amused smile before nodding. "I'll move the car."

Watching as he turned to walk back down your porch, you slipped further into your house, humming to yourself excitedly as you made your way upstairs.

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To say you and Hoseok sat in your room and talked about the universe and all its stars would be a fabricated overstatement. While everything started off innocently enough – the two of you laid back on your bed as you chatted happily – you were far too eager to continue the events that took place in Hoseok's car to not press your mouth onto his the first chance you got.

Your head was in your pillows, your soft bedding beneath you as Hoseok hovering above you. The kiss was soft and playful and it had you smiling against his lips. He smelled lovely, you noted, his cologne not too strong but enough to let you know that it was him.

His hands weren't idle at all, traveling along the length of your body. You could feel that he was hard in his pants, probably still from your fun at the movie. You couldn't find it in yourself to care very much when he began to grind his hard length along your thigh.

"Didn't know you were this eager to play, kitten." He growled into the kiss, reaching down to open your thighs for him.

His bulge was against your covered cunt now, the simple shorts you had slipped into not saving you from feeling just how hard he was. He groaned as you began to arch your hips up, meeting his thrusts.

"Hoseok," You whimpered, the sound causing him to groan.

"C-Can we... I want... I want you." You admitted, making the man above you freeze.

When you met his eyes, you were shocked to see how dark eyes had become. His pupils were blown wide and as he licked his lips, you realized how his breathing was growing heavier.

The idea of being your first should've been daunting or even unappealing to him. But he didn't feel that at all. He liked – loved –the idea that he would be your first; the first person to ever claim you like this.

The way you trembled and whined at his touch when he touched you at the movie was forever burned into his mind. You were so sensitive, so responsive to even his simplest touch. It was absolutely exhilarating. Everything was new to you, everything was overwhelming to your cute virgin body. And in a sick, perverted way, that excited him much more than it should have. He knew that.

But with you beneath him, asking him to take your virginity – giving him your virginity. He felt like he could cum right then and there in his pants.

There was just one problem.

"I don't have a condom with me." He sighed, the words physically painful leaving his mouth.

You fell silent, looking off to the side and mindlessly playing with the hem of your shirt.

Hoseok felt stiff, waiting for your next answer.

If you told him that it wasn't a good idea – no matter how badly he wanted to pleasure you, he would stop without hesitation.

"It's okay," You muttered, pressing the softest peck to the corner of his mouth, smiling shyly, "as long as you pull out, it'll be fine right?"

Hoseok nearly growled in excitement at your response, blown away at the level of trust you had just appointed him. You were looking up at him with wide eyes and the cutest smile that he couldn't help leaning down and taking you into a deep, breathtaking kiss that left you whimpering.

Once he pulled away, his eyes were even darker than they were before. He was preening in the trust and faith you had put in him, deciding then and there that he was going to make this experience as mind-blowing as he was physically and emotionally capable.

"Fuck, okay." He breathed, sitting up just a bit to unbutton his pants. They were uncomfortably tight and he was desperate to relieve the pressure on his aching cock.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, somehow having enough nerve to speak the words without stuttering. Hoseok nearly lost his mind right then and there.

"I-If you want to." He choked, voice dropping much lower than you had last heard him just seconds ago.

"But... can you show me how?"

Hoseok let out a groan, far too turned on to care about how loud he was being.

"Yeah, I can." He breathed, closing his eyes before opening the zipper to his pants.

You waited, nervous, as he reached into his boxers to pull his cock out.

He was painfully hard, the head of his cock wet with his precum and he was sure it was smeared all in his boxers. His hand was wrapped around his base, as if he were offering himself out to you.

"To be honest, I don't think I can handle having you blow me, so..." He cleared his throat, squeezing his shaft. "But just wrap your hand around me, kitten."

You reached out, replacing his hand with yours.

His breath stuttered audibly and his head fell back for just a moment. His cock was deliciously long and thick, you marveled at the way your fingers just barely touched around him. Wrapping his own hand around yours, he ever so carefully showed you how much pressure to apply without hurting him and how to move just as he liked.

You couldn't help but grow wet, watching the way Hoseok's brows furrowed slightly as you pleasured him.

"Mm, fuck, make sure it's wet." He whispered, and you nodded, moving your hand along his tip to collect his precum, smearing it down his length to aid in your movements.

"Shit, fuck stop!" He growled suddenly, pulling your hand off his cock. He panted, cupping your cheeks before leaning down to pull you into another kiss. "Can't let you do that too long or else I'll cum."

His words had your cheeks burning, and he merely smiled before kissing you again. You didn't offer any protests as he pressed a hand against your stomach, gently urging you to lay back down. Instead of getting back on top of you, however, he positioned himself on his knees between your thighs.

"Can I take your clothes off, baby?" He asked, tone light and calming now.

Although you could feel your nerves and insecurity started to catch up with you, you nodded. Hoseok's fingers were gentle as he peeled your shirt off, just a simple t-shirt that you opted to sleep in because the material was incredibly soft.

With your breasts exposed, your face was alight again. Instead of shying away from his touches, you found yourself wanting to have his hands on you. You trusted him to make you feel good, you knew he would.

So when his hands cupped your breasts and his fingers lightly pinched your hardened nipples, you cried out immediately. His breathing stuttered at the sound, his cock throbbing between his thighs. You clutched the bed sheets beneath you, writhing against the bed under his experienced touches.

"Hoseok, please." You begged, though you weren't sure what it was for.

"Alright, kitten, I'll take care of you." He cooed, abandoning playing with your tits in favor of hooking his fingers into the band of your shorts and pulling them off, taking your panties with them.

You suddenly felt much more exposed than you had before, clamping your thighs shut to hide your cunt from his greedy eyes. Hoseok felt like the air was punched out of him as you laid beneath him, naked and vulnerable, looking good enough to eat.

That idea had his cock twitching again, precum dripping down its fat head. Scooting further down the bed, you watched as he practically scrambled to rid himself of his clothes. He stumbled a tiny bit pulling his jeans off which brought a laugh bubbling from your lips. He caught your gaze as you giggled, his own heart fluttering in his chest at the sight.

You were just so cute.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, yeah?" He cooed, gently prying your knees apart at your knees.

You squeaked, your hands flying down to over your exposed cunt. Hoseok dropped to his stomach on the bed and leaned forward to nip playfully at your hands.

"Trust me, kitten." He whispered, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your inner thigh. "Let me in."

Closing your eyes, you mentally worked yourself up to move your hands away. Once your wet, dripping cunt was exposed to his eyes he groaned. You were so soft, folds spread to reveal your clenching hole and hooded clit. Your pussy was dripping your arousal and, fuck, you looked so delicious.

"H-Hoseok?" You squeaked, him just staring at your most intimate part had you feeling incredibly bashful.

He let out a small hum, "I'm going to taste you now."

You didn't get a chance to respond before his flattened his tongue over the length of your slit. His hands came down on your hips, when you bucked up in pleasure, to hold you down. His tongue was skilled, circling your hard little clit and sliding into your clenching hole to taste your juices.

You whined, reaching down and tugging at his hair at his movements. The feeling of having someone's tongue on you like this was indescribable. Hoseok felt like he was on cloud nine with your sweet cunt wrapped around his tongue, giving him more and more to taste.

When his greedy tongue found your clit again, sucking the bud into his mouth, you felt that pleasure rising again. Hoseok could feel the way your thighs tightened around his head, your legs trembling and your breathing rapid.

You were close.

And then suddenly, he pulled away, causing you huff, letting out the cutest frustrated whine that almost had him diving back in to wipe the frown off your face.

"I know, baby, I would love to make you cum on my tongue but I want your first time to be on my cock." His words sent another spike of arousal through your very being. "Are you ready?"

"Y-Yeah," You whispered, stomach churning in anticipation, watching as he fisted his own cock to spread his own precum down the length.

You spread your legs for him to settle between, the blunt head of his cock sliding between your folds. He gathered your wetness along his length, making sure his own cock was wet enough for you.

Finally, he began to press into your entrance. Your eyes widened as he began to sink in, keeping your gazes locked as he took your virginity. His breathing halted, mouth opened wide as your cunt enveloped him until he was balls deep inside you.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, moving over you to rest his weight on his hands beside your head. "Does it hurt?"

You had gripped onto your sheets beside you, clenching your jaw as you held back a whimper.

"I-It stings." You replied honestly, eyes drifting to where you were stuffed full of him. His cock looked so big with your wet pussy spread open for him.

"It'll pass." He promised, moving one hand down to find your clit with stealthy fingers.

He grunted when your cunt clamped down on him at the added stimulation. He stayed like that for a moment, just circling your clit to bring the pleasure back until you let him know it was okay for him to move.

When he was given the okay, he felt like he could cry. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him and your arousal dripping down his balls was the hottest thing he'd ever experienced. Nothing in his life could ever compare to having you beneath him.

You were trembling, body already growing overwhelmed from the feeling of having him inside you. Everything felt so strange, so foreign but still so right. Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him in for another kiss.

The sound of skin meeting filled the space and you had to break the kiss to cry out your pleasure. He was over the moon to drag more sounds from you, locating that little spot in your walls that had loud cries of ecstasy slipping past your swollen lips. Burying your face in his neck, you felt like your whole body was on fire. Sweat pooled over both your bodies, making your skin stick together but neither of you cared at all. All the two of you could think about was the feeling of you wrapped around his cock.

"O-Oh, Hoseok!" You cried, your nails catching the slippery skin on his back. "I-I'm close again!"

"Yeah?" He growled, throwing all caution to the wind as he let his words flow. You fell back onto his pillow, letting him see your blissed-out expression again. "You gonna cum for me?"

"Y-Yes!" You panted, unable to stop the loud cry from your lips when he gave a punishing circle of his thumb on your clit.

"Letting me take this cute little virgin cunt, right? Gonna ruin you for everyone, I'm gonna be the only cock that'll ever satisfy you," He chuckled, a cocky smirk on his lips when you positively gushed around him. "You like me talking to you like that, kitten? Such a dirty little virgin, aren't you?"

"Hoseok, fuck!" You begged, tears pricking at your eyes by now from being so close to the edge.

"Go on, cum for me," He egged on, moving his lips close to your ear. "Squeeze my cock with your tight little cunt, baby."

And so you did, and it was beautiful. You clung to him and cried out his name while your whole body trembled beneath him. You were so vulnerable and so sensitive, little tears falling from your eyes – it brought out something primal in Hoseok. He was overwhelmed with the need to mark you as his, he needed to know that you had given him this. He was your first and he wanted to mark you with his cum. Wanted to dirt you with his seed.

His own orgasm snuck up on him and before you even came down from your own orgasm, he pulled out and spilled out onto your stomach. Hot and wet, it pooled beneath your belly button as he pumped his cock until he had nothing more to give.

"You okay, kitten?" He asked after allowing you both a moment to catch your breaths, pressing chaste kisses down onto the side of your neck.

"Y-Yes." You replied, feeling somewhat shy at his doting.

Hoseok removed his mouth from your neck to look at you, opening his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by the sound of your front door opening and your family walking into the house, causing both your stomachs to drop.

"Y/N, are you home?" A familiar child's voice rang out from downstairs.

"Crap!" You hissed, your wide eyes meeting Hoseok's as you both sat up.

"What do we do?" Hoseok asked, keeping his voice low. You sat frozen on your bed for a few moments before the sound of your sister's footsteps on the stairs snapped you back to reality.

Without thinking, you sprung right up, grabbing all of Hoseok's clothes and throwing them at him.

"Closet! Now!" You ordered hurriedly, pushing the naked boy in the direction of your closet door.

"Wait–"

"Shut up!" You hissed lowly, heart in your throat as you heard your sister walk outside in the hallway.

Opening your closet, you ushered Hoseok inside, closing it shut as quickly and quietly as you could.

"Y/N? Are you here?" Angie called out from outside your door and you took a silent moment to thank your lucky stars that your sister knew better than to enter your room without knocking.

"One second! I'm, uh, changing out of my uniform!" You called back, nearly tripping on your rug as you began to clean yourself up with a spare towel you luckily left out from your morning shower, slipping back on your shorts and shirt.

Fixing your hair as you made your way towards your door, you let out a shaky breath before plastering a smile on your face and opening the door.

"Hi, peanut! How was the movie?" You replied, probably somewhat too enthusiastically.

Angie's face lit up as if she had been waiting for you to ask her that.

"So good!" She told you, eyes wide. "There was this pretty girl dog who got lost and she got found by a boy dog and then there was this mean dog catcher and a spaghetti kiss and–"

"Neato!" You interjected quickly, knowing how chatty your little sister had a tendency to be. "Tell you what, I'm absolutely beat from work so I'm gonna head to bed. You can tell me all about it tomorrow, okay?"

"Aw, you're no fun." Angie complained, a small pout on her lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm just... really tired." You apologized, throwing in a yawn for good measure.

Your sister held your stare for a moment as if considering the validity of your statement before ultimately sighing.

"O-kay..." She hummed dejectedly causing you to lightly pinch at her cheeks.

"Goodnight! I love you!" You called out after her as she began to trudge to her room, "I'll see you in the mornin'."

"See ya later, alligator!" Was Angie's final reply before disappearing down the hallway.

"Goodnight, mom! Goodnight, dad!" You called out, poking your head in the hallway so the sound would travel downstairs.

The disembodied voices of your mother and father answered back, wishing you sweet dreams.

"Cute kid. The way she talks reminds me of Elena." Hoseok voice rang out from behind you just as you shut your door, causing you to jump. You turn around to see that he is now fully dressed, probably having had put his clothes back on during his time-out in the closet.

You offered him a small smile.

"So... what do I do now?" He asked with a tilt of his head. You let out a sigh, plopping back down onto your bed.

"I have a window?" You offered sheepishly causing Hoseok to make a face at you.

Despite the fact that climbing down the side of a house was not exactly how he pictured this date ending, he couldn't really complain. The date had panned out far better than he could've hoped really.

Crossing your legs at the ankles, you watched as Hoseok opened your window, the night's events suddenly sinking down on you.

You had told Hoseok that you weren't the kind of girl who would let him get in your pants and then ditch you right after but here you were.

You didn't regret sleeping with him but your chest couldn't help but feel a little heavy knowing that you had just become another notch in Hoseok's belt.

The selfish part of you wanted to be more than that but you also remembered Johara's warnings. You had done this to yourself. Pushing down your feelings, you decided to try and make light of the situation.

"So is this the part where you leave and I see you in the diner next week and we pretend like this never happened?" You joked half-heartedly, hand fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts, hoping to appear nonchalant.

Hoseok's eyes flickered to your anxious gesture, shrugging. "I guess so."

Your shoulders fell dejectedly but you nodded silently. You knew the name of the game far before you agreed to go out with him and he had made it very clear that he wasn't a romantic kind of guy so really, what could you do?

"Although," Hoseok began suddenly, throwing a leg over your window sill. "If you ask me, I don't think that would do me any favors."

You blinked in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Well, if I'm tryna make you my girl, what good would ignoring you do?"

You stared at him for a moment as if unsure you had heard him correctly, before a massive smile broke out on your face, sure that you had.

"In that case, I think I would strongly advise against ignoring me." You replied cheekily.

"You think so?" Hoseok hummed, a playful tone to a serious question.

He had every intention of pursuing you seriously and if you gave any indication that him pursuing you wouldn't be in vain, then he wanted to know.

Hoseok liked you. He actually liked you and wanted you to be his girl. He didn't want this to be just another one night stand if he could help it.

You stared at him for a moment, fawning over the way he was looking at you, eyes wide with hope as he chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, awaiting your answer.

Pushing yourself off your bed, you walked your way over to the handsome escapee. You held his warm eyes briefly before pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek.

"Yeah. I do." You answered shyly, not bothering to conceal your beaming smile, leaving Hoseok absolutely breathless.

Climbing down the side of your house, Hoseok couldn't help but feel like he was stuck in some sort of cliché romance film. Not that he really cared at that moment, though. Hell, if it made you smile at him like that then maybe he wouldn't mind becoming the romantic type after all.