#mean to me...... and 1 hour later she wants to sleep on my lap... girl make up ur damn mind.....

[heaven-dope]

WHY MY CAT KEEP HISS AND BITE ME WHEN IM NOT TOUCHING HER JUST SITTING NEXT TO HER

[cloudlessly-light]

Sometimes I feel like I keep sending my promts like a crazy fan girl. But I think I am a crazy fan girl. So I have this thing in my mind. Hotch and Em saw each other naked once and Emily knows that bossman has big dick energy and HUGE DICK in his pants. So after they got together Aaron is afraid he will hurt Emily (cause nobody could take him all inside) so that’s why he doesn’t go all the way but Emily is sooo excited and says “I want it all”. I hope I’m not too crazy :)

A/N 1: Hey all you wonderful people, I’m officially back from my little break and I have a few things in the works that I really hope you like, but first we’re going back to old school Sara and doing a Hotchniss filth based on an ask! A/N 2: Hi Anon! Thank you so much, I always like hearing that people enjoy these silly little writings of mine! Title: Give me everything you want and need Summary: Emily accidentally walks in on Aaron in the shower when they’re forced to share a room. She’s impressed. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,1k Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, BDE Hotch (Yes that deserves its own warning), multiple orgasms, spanking (blink and you miss it)

 It’s an accident, it’s not like she planned for it to happen, it was one of those moments that she’d think back on and wonder why. But she was also happy that it happened, even though it was embarrassing, it was kind of their turning point.

She’s coming back from JJ’s room, the woman too pregnant for it to be fair for her to share a room so Emily had ended up sharing a room with Aaron. She didn’t know that he was back from the precinct, to be honest she kind of figured that he’d stay there all night. So she enters the hotel room and pulls her shirt off, followed by her pants and is heading into the bathroom when she sees him.

Aaron looks as shocked as she feels as he quickly grabs the towel on the sink, completely naked in front of his subordinate.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She doesn’t mean to stare, but for a moment she lets herself. She sees the droplets of water dripping from his short hair, down his chest, covered with fine dark hair and further down where she got a glimpse of Aaron Hotchner in all his glory. And what a glory it was.

“Prentiss!” He all but yells when she doesn’t immediately turn away which makes her realize that her tiny thong and almost sheer bra is barely even covering her and she slams the door shut.

“I’m sorry!” She says again through the door as she frantically pulls her clothes back on. “I-I’ll sleep in Derek’s room.” Her voice lowers as he comes out of the bathroom, towel secured around his hips and a glare in his eye. “I thought you were still at the station.” She tries to explain but he just keeps staring at her and she feels herself wanting to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s almost 2AM.” He says and she’s unsure if that’s his response to why he’s back to get a few hours of sleep, or his way to object to waking up Derek and Spencer in the next room so she just stares mutely at him.

The tension is thick, both of them simply staring at each other for what feels like hours until he sighs.

“Just, don’t mention this again.” He says and she hates the fact that her cheeks tint pink at the mere thought of him naked.

“This never happened.” She tells him and he offers a small smile.

It doesn’t surprise either of them when Emily finds herself outside his door less than two weeks later, kissing him with all the desire she’s felt for years.

But they don’t end up in bed that night, instead their kisses turn into a long talk, admittance of attraction and feelings until they fall asleep wrapped up in each other. So they start dating, and it’s easier that she’d ever thought it would be, except for the fact that Aaron would stop her wandering hands or searching lips once they got past the point of making out like teenagers.

It frustrated her, because she could feel him, huge and hard and pressing against her as she straddled his lap but he would stop her every time. A few weeks go by and she’s so wound up that she was sure that she’d implode from the heated tension that never seemed to leave her body, even after trying to take matters into her own hands, literally. But she didn’t want to rush him, she figured that he wanted to take it slow because she’d be the first woman after Haley, he wanted to be sure and she respected that.

They’re working a local case and she had just finished an interrogation with him, he had been intimidating and arrogant, bordering on aggressive with the unsub cowering in front of them. And Emily could feel the way her thighs clenched under the table, the steady thump of want, the heat of her arousal. He had always been impressive, had always demanded respect with as little as a look, but since they started dating she found it harder to control her body’s urges.

They leave Quantico that night with a case solved and a murderer in custody and Emily doesn’t question when he follows her home in his car. The team didn’t know about them yet and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t fun sneaking around.

“You were hot today.” She muses against his lips as he presses her against her front door before she turns in his arms, her hand trembling as she tries to get the key in the lock.

“Is that so?” He chuckles and presses a chaste kiss to her neck from behind and then patiently waits for her to unlock the door.

“Yes.” She opens the door and turns to take his hand, big and warm and starting to feel right in hers. “Always appreciated a handsome man in a suit, being decisive.” Her eyebrow arched as she smirked when his hands landed on her hips, pulling her closer to him just as the door closed behind him.

“I see.” He nuzzled her nose, teasing her before giving her a kiss that is supposed to be quick, but he easily finds himself unable to move away. She was addictive, a drug he never wanted to quit. He only pulled away from her when her stomach rumbled and he chuckled. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“Didn’t have time for lunch.” She shrugged, it wasn’t unusual but Aaron hated when she skipped a meal and he frowned at her. “Italian?” She asked before he had a chance to reprimand her.

“Sounds good.” He was already picking up his phone and dialed the number to the restaurant he knew she loved. “Go shower, change, I’ll pick up dinner.” He smiled and Emily tried to ignore the flutter in her chest that he knew her well enough already to know that she always wanted to shower the stench of murder off her the moment she came home.

She showers quickly and changes into an old shirt and shorts that she knows are too short but she doesn’t care. The way his eyes lingers on her exposed legs when she comes back down the stairs makes satisfaction tingle along her spine and she pretends not to notice the way his jaw clenches and he swallows harder.

“This smells delicious.” She says instead and sits down at the table where he had just finished putting the food out. “Thank you, honey.” She kisses him after he’s sat down next to her, her lips lingering a little longer than necessary. She hums softly when his hand lands on her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft skin for a moment, like he’s trying to refrain himself from doing more.

“Let’s eat.” He mumbles when she pulls back and he almost groans at the familiar way her pupils dilated with want.

They eat and talk easily, always finding things to discuss and share, but there’s a tension between them, the same tension that had been in that hotel room when she walked in on him in the shower. She could tell that he was nervous but she couldn’t figure out why.

She lasts through dinner and approximately twenty minutes into the movie they decided to watch before her lips find his jaw, slow kisses pressed against his stubble as she laid halfway on top of him already. His respond is almost immediate, his hands tightening on her waist and moving down to grab her ass, his lips on hers as he pushes his tongue against hers.

“Aaron.” She sighs into his mouth and it’s breathy and low and he groans. The sound encourages her and she straddles him fully, her hands on his chest as she looks down at him.

“Em.” He tries to control his body, but the mere thought of having to stop her again felt like an impossibility. He had wanted her for years, the last few weeks had been close to agony, but he didn’t want to hurt her, knew that he probably would because how could he not when no woman had been able to take him before?

“Don’t.” She whispered, her hands fisting his shirt in desperation. “Please don’t.” She grinded on his lap, felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her through his pants.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He said quietly, his eyes moving over her face and he could see the realization hitting her.

“You won’t hurt me.” She said softly but she could feel want and desperation clouding her senses, her hips subtly continuing to roll against his.

“No one’s been able to- to take all of me.” He almost stuttered over his words and he was sure Emily’s eyes only darkened, her cheeks flushing pink as she leaned down to press a teasing kiss against his lips.

“I want it all, I want all of you so badly I can’t even think straight.” She whispered, her words falling against his face in soft puffs. “I’ll stop you if it’s too much.” She promises and she can feel his hands gripping her tighter, his eyes boring into hers. “I promise.”

He takes another moment but he can see the desperation on her face, can feel her body pressing into his and his own arousal painstakingly clear.

“Okay.” He nodded and kissed the grin from her lips. “But let’s go upstairs to your bed, more room.” He smirked at the way her eyebrow arched and then all but chased her up the stairs as she hurried up towards the bed.

Emily laughs when he pulls her against his body, immediately going to tug her shirt over her head. She gasped as he licked over her pulse, bit the junction of her neck and shoulder, his hands moving the newly exposed skin until he tugs her nipples between gun-calloused fingers.

“I’ve thought about this since that damn bathroom.��� He mumbled against her ear and she shivered.

“You’ve been the one making me wait.” She tries to tease but it packs little punch when she whimpers and arches into his touch. Her fingers move over the buttons on his shirt quickly and she thinks she deserve some credit for not just tearing it open in her haste to get him naked and inside of her.

“No more waiting.” He all but growls and pushes her back onto the bed. His eyes rake over her exposed torso, his fingers soon pulling her shorts off her hips, a smirk on his lips when he realizes she’s not wearing underwear. “Dirty girl.” His voice is so low she shudders from it, his eyes predatory as he crawls between her spread legs.

She tries to sneak a hand between them to get his belt unbuckled but grabs her hand, pins both of them above her head with a low hum of satisfaction as the other move between their bodies, the tip of his finger moving through her wetness gently.

“Gotta get you ready.” He mumbles lowly then kisses the whine from her lips as he pushes one finger inside of her. “So fucking wet, already.”

She blushes, the pink of her cheeks trailing down her chest as her hips buckle into his touch.

“You’ve teased me for weeks.” She huffs and he chuckles at her impatience, his smirk only widening when he pushes a second finger inside of her and curls them causing her to arch into him.

“So tight.” He breathes against her neck and she twists in his grip but he only tightens his hold on her wrists. “You’re going to come all over my hand.” His words are hushed and she can’t do anything but whimper in response. “And then you’re going to take all of my cock, aren’t you?” His hips grind into the bed at the thought, his hesitations gone now that they had gotten this far.

“Yes,” She whines “all of it, please.” Her legs widened as the palm of his hand rubbed against her clit, the pleasure building steadily as he kept curling his thick fingers inside of her, her wetness coating his hand. Her jaw went slack and her head fell back against the bed when he pressed a third finger inside of her, stretching her cunt and making her moan breathlessly.

“That’s it, good girl.” He watched the pleasure reflected on her face, could feel her walls tightening around his fingers.

“Don’t stop.” She gasped as her thighs trembled. Her hips buckled into his hand, her body chasing the release she had craved for weeks. “I’m so close- I- fuck!” Her orgasm ripped through her fast and hard, causing her to gasp for air as her eyes rolled back and her hands fisted above her.

Aaron bit back a groan as she came all over his fingers, her pussy so tight he could barely move his fingers so he focused on pressing the heel of his hand against her clit, drawing out her pleasure until she was whimpering and trembling underneath him. When she finally relaxed he gently let go of her wrists and removed his fingers from inside of her. He licked her wetness off them and waited for her to stop panting with a smug look on his face.

“Aaron,” She breathed as her eyelids fluttered open and she looked up at him, dark eyes, breathing labored, his cock hard and huge as it strained inside his pants. “fuck me.” She sat up so fast he barely registered it and claimed his lips in a kiss, her hands moving to get his belt unbuckled and pants undone. She helped him kick them away and when he finally hovered above her again she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He groaned against her lips as the tip of him nudged between her lips, let himself grind against her for a few moments, coating the underside of his shaft with her. He looked down at her when he pushed his cockhead slowly inside of her, careful not to go too fast.

Emily whimpered at the stretch, his cock easily the biggest she’d ever had inside of her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pressed inch after inch inside of her, the stretch painful but deliciously addictive.

“Don’t fucking stop.” She grunted when he faltered, her legs tightening around him. Her eyes met his and she nodded at his wordless question. “Don’t stop.” She repeated quietly.

“Fuck Em, you’re perfect.” He mumbled against her lips as they kissed messily, his hips pressing into hers until he was fully inside of her. She was clenching around his shaft, trying to accommodate to the stretch, but instead of pushing him away she relished in it.

“Move, Aaron move.” She warned, desperate for him. She could feel every ridge of him, could feel her the slightly painful stretch morph into pleasure when he started to pull back, her walls clinging to him.

He groaned loudly as he started to thrust, slow and long strokes of his hips, almost pulling out before filling her completely over and over again.

“Fucking made for me, made to take my cock.” He mumbled between haste kisses against her neck, his forehead soon landing on her shoulder as he started to fuck her harder.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking big.” She panted as her short nails scratched over his shoulders and arms, leaving evidence of her on his skin. He was hitting into her perfectly, making the heat of a second orgasm build in record time, her moans and whimpers only spurring him on.

“Come on me again, let me feel you squeeze my cock.” He pushed up to kneel between her legs, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing it in circles.

She could barely breathe as he forced another orgasm through her, her back arching and hands fisting the sheets to keep herself grounded as the heat inside of her expanded by every thrust of his hips.

His name fell from her lips like a mantra, the only word she could get out through her loud moans until she was coming again with a cry of pleasure. She could barely hear his grunt as she tightened around him, could barely focus on anything but the earth-shattering pleasure of her orgasm until he was flipping her around and filling her from behind.

“Your cunt is mine.” He growled in her ear as he straddled her thighs and fucked her into the bed, no longer concerned that she wouldn’t be able to take him. “Say it!” He spanked her twice in quick succession and she only pushed her ass up, so he did it again.

“My cunt is yours.” She whined, the slight sting of his hand only making her shiver with want.

“Good girl.” His graveled voice sent tingles down her spine, his hands on either side of her shoulders, keeping her trapped between his strong chest and the soft bed. “Gonna fill you up.”

Emily couldn’t answer, she could barely breathe as he fucked her hard enough to make her body jolt, her clit pushed into the bed by every thrust. She was too sensitive, it was too much, it was perfect. She felt his teeth dig into the back of her neck, felt his ragged breathing against her sweaty skin as he chased his own release.

“Aaron, please…” She wasn’t sure what she was begging for, her mind delirious and hazy, all she could feel was him, all she could think about was him.

“Gonna cum again?” It was rhetorical, his voice smug even as he panted above her, he felt her body tense, felt her walls tighten and Emily nodded.

“Yes, yes, yes I’m so close.” She felt his fingers intertwine with hers as his hips somehow sped up even more, slamming into her hard enough for the bed to quake.

“Come with me.” He grunted in her ear, the strain in his voice palpable. She was still nodding when her orgasm ripped through her, dragging him with her as they strained and moaned together.

Emily felt the heat of his release deep inside of her, making her gasp and then he collapsed beside her exhausted body, his panting harsh as he started to laugh.

“That was amazing.” He pulled her into him, pressed a haste kiss against her forehead and cheeks, then against her lips. “You’re amazing.” He breathed with a smile.

“You are too.” She whispered happily, her hand on his cheek. They fell into a comfortable silence as they let their bodies relax and their breathing returned to normal. After a few minutes she turned to him with a smirk. “You should have just fucked me in that hotel.” She teased and he chuckled.

“I really should have.”  

[fizzyxcustard]

What Is Possible.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Anything is Possible chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, happy ending, family reunion, slight angst

Summary: Sequel to the fic, "Anything Is Possible." You and Guy are now married and have a one year old daughter, named Ghillie. You all go travelling together to see your parents who you have not seen for 18 months, since your interrupted wedding to Lord Edmund.

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know.

I would like to dedicate this fic to two close friends. Firstly, @piggledy-higgledy who is the biggest Guy of Gisborne fan I know, and suggested the name of the baby. Thank you for believing in me. Secondly, @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady I absolutely love our Guy banter and talking about him being jealous and burning houses down. I love you both. <3

“Ghillie,” you cooed. “Come on, darling.” 

The little girl giggled, her blue eyes focused on you. You reached out, encouraging her to come toward you. Then suddenly she began her unsteady stomps, her arms reaching up. But now her focus had shifted to just behind you. She wanted her father. 

Guy had walked in from out the back of the house, where he had been readying the carriage for all three of you to make the journey to finally see your parents. As soon as he saw his daughter’s chubby hands reaching for him, he couldn’t resist. Ghillie continued chuckling, stomping unsteadily towards Guy. 

You watched on in love as Guy scooped up the laughing one year old. He kissed her red cheek and then her almost-black hair. 

“The carriage is ready,” he said, holding Ghillie in one arm and then wound his other arm around your waist. 

Your mother and father had been in contact via letter now for around eighteen months, and today would be the first time that you all travelled as a family to see them. The town they were now living in was two day’s journey, but with a stopover at a small inn on the main road. 

The journey itself was quite uneventful for the most part. You sat with Ghillie on your lap, singing and talking to her, while Guy remained the steerer of the carriage. Every couple of hours and you would stop for a drink and to nurse Ghillie. The weather was bright, mild and dry, perfect for travelling. 

At the inn and Guy paid for a large suite for you both and Ghillie. There you all shared the large, four poster bed. 

“I wonder if this is the honeymoon suite,” Guy mused. “Not that I’d bring my bride here.”

You laughed. “Beggars can’t be choosers sometimes, Guy. Not everyone has the means to live in luxury.” 

Guy merely smirked and leaned over to you, kissing you. Ghillie was sat between you both, playing with her stuffed pony which Mary had made for her. Since your interrupted wedding to Lord Edmund, Mary the seamstress, had been a close friend. She had become almost a second mother to you, helping you in your questions towards motherhood. She was also Ghillie’s godmother. 

A short while later and you and Guy lay on your sides facing each other, with your sleeping daughter between you both. “I never thought this would be possible,” you said. “I seriously never thought I’d ever be happy like this.” 

Guy reached to you and laced his fingers through yours. He smiled and looked at your joined hands. “You’ve given me everything I ever wanted.” Then his steel blue eyes met your gaze. “I don’t deserve you or Ghillie, I know that…” 

“Guy, please…” 

“I don’t,” he continued. 

“Shh, come here, you stupid man,” you hissed. You kissed him hard, tugging at his thin tunic. 

“I do love it when you take charge,” Guy chuckled. “And when you scold me.” 

***

Finally you made it to your parents’ village. Guy took the carriage slowly through the main muddy track, where small houses were built on either side. There was a tavern, a blacksmiths and a few stalls in a field behind a chapel. 

Then you saw her from the small window of the carriage, your mother standing out the front of their house, waving to you. She was smiling broadly, something that she rarely did when she was in Nottingham. 

“Come on, Ghillie. I’ve got someone very special for you to meet,” you told your daughter. You picked her up and then stepped out of the open door of the carriage, which had been opened for you by Guy. In one arm you propped Ghille, and with your other hand, you held Guy’s. 

Your mother broke down into tears as she saw you, and then looked at her granddaughter. “C…can I hold her?” your mother asked. 

“Of course you can,” you said. 

You watched for a few seconds as your mother smiled at Ghillie, whispering ‘hello’ to her and then kissed her chubby fingers. “Her name is Ghislaine,” you said. “Ghislaine Sarah.” 

Your mother looked at you with wide eyes upon hearing Ghillie’s middle name be the same as her own. 

“Ghislaine was my mother’s name,” Guy said softly. “But we call her Ghillie for short.” 

“I can’t deny it but she looks just like you,” your mother chucked, looking up at Guy. 

You all went into your parents’ house and sat down in the main kitchen area, while your mother began preparing a kettle of tea. “Your father hopes to finish work up in the field a little earlier today. Are you planning on staying with us long?” 

“Umm, well, as long as you’ll have us,” you replied. “We’ve packed enough provisions for a week, and Guy is able to stand down from duty for a fortnight.” 

“We would love to have you permanently,” your mother laughed. “A week sounds perfect.” Ghillie was sat on your mother’s lap, having taken to her immediately, which was quite extraordinary as she normally didn’t like strangers. But your mother was the first person she had met without screaming. 

Your father later entered the house and embraced you tightly. It was the first thing he did. Then he apologised to you for all the heartbreak he had caused. “I was a coward. I know that. Edmund held a lot over me for years; he offered me money so that he could have you. That morning, I just knew what I had to do.” 

Your father hung his head in shame and then looked at Ghillie. “She’s beautiful,” he said softly. Then he looked at Guy. “Thank you for making my daughter happy, Gisborne.”

As dusk began to settle, your father took Guy down to the local tavern for a pint, while you remained at the house with your mother and Ghillie. Your mother was cleaning the pot from the stew she had made for dinner, while you dried the plates. Ghillie was sat on the floor, playing with her pony and a few toys that your mother had collected for your visit. The toys banged against the wooden floor, and with each bang, Ghillie giggled. 

“How are you and father doing?” you asked. 

“He knows I still hold resentment against him for what he did to you, but I pray often with the priest at the chapel. I want to let go of all the hate in my heart. It can be hard to live with him some days. All I can see is the coward that he was for so long.” 

“But he’s not that man now,” you countered. “Look what he did for me; that’s not the action of a coward. He saw what he was doing and he changed.” 

Your mother began to sob. 

You took her into your arms and held her, feeling her shake. “I think I hate myself more.” Her voice was muffled by your shoulder. 

“Mother, please,” you reasoned, pulling from the embrace. “I hold nothing against either of you for this. We know how hard things can be; father wanted to provide for the family. Edmund was a monster and he held sway over father with money. You can’t blame father for that. Money holds a lot of power, we all know that. I wish Guy would consider changing his work, but the money keeps us well provided for. You have to do what is right for your family. 

“Does he take care of you?” 

The instantaneous smile told your mother everything that she needed to know. “He dotes on us. Guy had quite a bad childhood and all he’s ever wanted is love in his life. I’ve never known a man with such an enormous heart. He seems like a walking contradiction in how cruel and callous he’s been known to be, yet with us, he would do anything we ask of him.” 

“As long as he cares for you both, that’s all that matters.” 

***

When your father and Guy arrived back from the tavern, the two of them were laughing. “It’s been a pleasure tonight, Gisborne,” your father said, and extended his hand. The two men shook hands, and it was here that you hoped the two of them would always have a good friendship. 

You retired to bed a while later, with Ghillie between you and Guy. She was already asleep, having been worn out from the day’s events. 

“Mother has said she will take Ghillie for a few hours tomorrow so that we can have time alone together,” you told Guy. You watched his face beam, and then his gaze drifted down to Ghillie. His fingers caressed her dark hair and he felt that all too familiar lump rise in his throat. It was the lump that reminded him of what was possible. 

“Are you alright?” you whispered. 

Guy’s gaze met yours, and it was now full of tears. 

“Do not say again that you feel undeserving,” you sighed. “Life does not deal in who deserves and who doesn’t. I gave my love to you freely, as you did me.” You reached out and cupped your husband’s cheek. “We both love you, Gisborne. We both love you for everything you are.” 

Guy couldn’t help but chuckle, and feel the tears fall down his cheeks. “I can’t even imagine what it would have been like if you had had Ghillie while married to Edmund. To see my child raised by another…”

“Guy, stop!” you exclaimed. “I didn’t marry Edmund. I married you. Ghillie is yours; she’s here with you every day. She carries your name, as do I, you stupid man.”

Guy smiled as you said those words again, playfully insulting him. 

“Give me that smile, Gisborne,” you said softly, and reached closer, kissing him. 

***

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[marvelobankspdrescue]

Title: First Steps

Age: 8 months old

TW: none

Jay's pov

Time 4:30 A.M.

Caitlin has recently started sleeping through the night, and I am very thankful for that. I mean, I'm not complaining. I used to wake up at crazy hours when I was in the Rangers. But I would much rather wake up for Caitlin. She still gets up pretty early, but it helps me out because I can get us both ready and we can eat. Then we can play for a little while before I head to work. I woke up to Caitlin babbling through the baby monitor, so I got up and walked into her room with our 4 year old German shepherd Legand following me. Legand is a retired police dog he retired after being shot in the line of duty. My friend Aiden was in the K9 unit, and Legand was his dog, but when Legand was shot, it made his ability to do his job hard, so Aiden retired him. Where Aiden lives only allows one dog in his apartment, so he was going to have to sell him because he needed to train another police dog, so I decided to take him. When I walk into Catie's room, I see she is standing up using the railing of her crib, bouncing up and down. She's at the age where she is close to walking, but she isn't there yet. She can only pull herself up using things and walk, holding on to something. I pick her up out of her crib and carry her to the kitchen. I sit her down in her playpen, and Legand lays in font of it, watching her. I walk into the kitchen and start breakfast. Once I'm done, I go get Catie and sit her in her high chair. I walk into the pantry and grab the dog food and feed Legand and water him, then I wash my hands and feed Catie and eat some of my food as well. As I'm feeding her, Legand comes over and sits at my feet. When she's done eating, we go into the living room, and I put her in her walker so I can clean up. I start to clean up while Legand watches every move Caitlin makes.

Little time skip

I just got to the district, and I take Catie and Legand to the break room and set up some of Catie's toys while Legand goes and lays down on his bed. On days when I can't find a sitter, Voight lets me bring her to the district, and on occasion, Legand comes to. When I get them set up in the break room, I go and start on my paperwork.

Time skip

1 hour later

We haven't had any cases today. We've just been doing paperwork while Caitlin does all sorts of things. She sometimes plays, sometimes sits in my lap, and on occasion crawls around the floor saying HI to everyone while Legand follows close behind and when she gets to close to the steps he gets in front of her and lightly pushes her in the other direction. She is currently back in my lap while I do paperwork when Voight comes in and sticks a picture on the board as he says, "We've got a case. Robbery on the South Side. Ruzek, Atwater, Burgess, and Rojas, I need you questioning neighbors. Halstead, Upton, you talk to the homeowners. Mouse, you stay here and we'll send you any footage we find." I walk over to Mouse and hand him Caitlin. He grabs her, and she starts grabbing things from his desk.

Mouse's pov

Time skip

After the team left, I took Caitlin in the break room and started playing with her. I took her police bear and tickled her with it while she was giggling. She played while I worked a little. They called a few minutes ago saying they were on their way back. As soon as they got their Jay, made a b-line for Catie. It's hard to think that not long ago, I had to drag him away from party after party and keep him from killing himself because his Ptsd was so bad, and sitting through all the times he said he didn't want kids and now he's has a smart, sweet, and lovey little girl. Who's going to be a handful when she gets older with how smart she is and the stubbornness she inherits from Jay. I don't know whether to feel sorry for him or be thankful that he gets to experience how he is to us. You can just see the love radiating off of him when he looks at Catie. I'm so proud of him he's  overcome so much.

Jay's pov

I ran up the stairs and into the break room to see Caitlin. I peaked through the window before going in and saw her sitting on the ground with Legand beside her. She looked up when she saw me and squealed, and I started walking towards her until I realized she had grabbed onto Legand's fur and pulled herself up. I've got to the point where anytime she stands up, I grab my phone and start recording because she's so close to walking. I quickly got everyones attention and they were all crowded around me. Hailey took my phone and kept recording for me so I could get to her if she fell. When she finally got to her feet, she let go of Legand and swayed a little till she got her balance. She stood there for a moment, so I stepped forward a bit and crouched down and said, "Come on, baby. It's ok, you can do it. I'm right here." She looked at me and smiled as big as she could and reached out and took a step. Everybody was silently cheering her on while I said, "Yay, that's it just a little closer you got it" and with that she took a few more steps till she grabbed my finger and walked the rest of the way till she hugged me. I stood up. I was so proud of her, and so was everyone else. We gave everyone hugs and cleaned up her toys and then went home ate and went to bed.

A couple of weeks later

It has been a few weeks since Catie walked for the first time, and now she walks as much as she can, all while Legand watches her every move and makes sure she doesn't get hurt. At least I know I can turn my back for a second without her running away because he won't let her. She gets within so many feet of me, and he's steering her back.

A/N: This is Legand.

[myloveforhergoeson]

That's All She Wrote - Chapter 3

Chapter: 1 • 2

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Show: Big Time Rush

Pairing: James Diamond x Original Female Character

Lonely No More (1.3) ~ 14k

It had been a rough day for team Big Time Rush. Five hours of dancing, seven hours of harmonies, thirty-two bottles of water, and fourteen ruined bandanas later, there was nothing the teens were looking forward to more than spending an evening out of their crummy apartments. 

One of the places that provided the five the most comfort was the stillness of the Palm Woods pool after dark and today was no exception. Dragging feet and dragging bags led them out onto the comfy lounge chairs, plopping down and having a rare moment of relaxation. 

“Thank goodness we can escape the stresses of Hollywood at the amazing Palm Woods pool,” Kendall reflected, causing Roxy to close her eyes and listen to the gentle lapping of the water. 

Footsteps clattered behind them as a weird-sounding bell rang. “What’s this? I didn’t order extras!”

The girl shot up in her seat, extremely startled. When she turned around, she spotted a middle-aged woman with a headset and clipboard. “What, us? Extras?” 

“We live here,” Kendall chimed in, lazily raising his hand and pointing to the source of his relaxation, “This is our pool.”

The woman fired back, fuming, “No, this is our set for the Sexy Dog dog food commercial starring Lighting the TV Wonder Dog.” 

Following her gaze across the pool sat the handsome dog, Lighting, getting his black and white fur combed out. His little pair of sunglasses and casanova-style robe would’ve made Roxanne laugh if he wasn’t threatening their relaxation time. The band waved to the little creature as the girl sunk deeper into her chair, determined more than ever to stay rooted in her spot. She would even sleep outside if she had to. Anything for a moment of tranquility. 

What even is Sexy Dog dog food? 

Before she had the chance to contemplate this further the woman with the clipboard yelled, “Strike the teens!” into her headset. One by one, her friends were picked up by some of the men working on the set and dragged off in the direction of the hotel lobby. A hand made its way to her shoulder causing her to flinch and do her best to wiggle out of the grasp it took on her. Another hand gripped down on her arm, then another two around her ankles as she felt herself pulled slightly up, scaring her even more. 

“Let go of me! My friends are hockey players and I swear to you I’ll grab one of their sticks and beat you with it!” Roxy spat out, doing her best to keep her breathing under control as her heart pounded out of fear. Of all the things that happened today, Gustavo yelling at her, Kelly needing her help cleaning the studio, and the boys needing constant supplies through their twelve-hour work day, all she wanted to do was relax. Now she was too terrified to even think about visiting the pool again. “You can carry me to the lobby and I cause a scene or you let go of me and I walk myself.” 

The four men glanced at each other, then over to the woman who commanded them to dispose of the unwanted company. 

“Fine,” grumbled the woman. “Just get off my set.” 

Hands let Roxanne go as she scrambled to her feet, grabbing her small backpack from the slot in between the lounge chairs. Without turning back to the commercial set she made her way toward the lobby. A shiver shot through her body as she flung the door open and mentally cursed out the mean producer. Beside the door, the boys had been dropped down onto the ugly orange couches that decorated the foyer of the hotel - also displeased with the outcome of their relaxation-by-the-pool quest.

As she leaned on the back of the couch seating James and Carlos, she closed her eyes to enjoy the quiet music playing overhead and did her best to forget the feeling of foreign hands on her body. 

After a moment, Kendall spoke again, “Well, at least we can recharge in the stylish Palm Woods lobby.” 

“Roxy? Are you-” began Carlos before he was cut off by a bitter voice. 

“Ah, the five brats from Minnesota…” 

Roxanne popped one eye open to see the hotel manager, Reginold Bitters, standing in front of them, a wicked smile crossing his lips. 

Logan leaned in, “I’m not getting a friendly vibe.” 

“No loitering in the lobby after 9 pm!” The man continued, striking a whiteboard behind him with his stubby fingers to show off the written rule. “Oh,” he gasped, glancing at his watch, “Look at the time. 9:01.”

She already was in a bad mood and this certainly wasn’t helping. Also, when did all these rules come in? The girl couldn’t remember. Maybe she was too tired. 

Raising her hand, she posed a question, “Is it loitering if we live here?” 

The teens held their breath as Bitters pretended to contemplate her remark. 

“Get. Out!” 

So, they wound up back in the boys’ apartment. 

Roxy’s apartment wasn’t the nicest, but every time she visited 2-J she thanked her lucky stars it wasn’t hers to call home. Everything about it was bland, sad browns and light whites covered the interior giving off an ominous feeling. Watching her step, she was sure to avoid the mysterious stains that covered the floor as they made it over to the old couch in front of the even older TV. On the wall across from the kitchen was a photo of the Knight family at one of Kendall’s hockey games, the only thing noting a personal touch to the ramshackle apartment. Out of everything, she was most excited to see their notebooks on the small, brown coffee table in front of them.

Maybe they won’t ask me for my homework this week.

Big Time Rush took all the seats on the couch leaving their assistant to cross her legs and sit on the floor. Roxanne did her best to ignore the strange puddle of fluid on the carpet inches away and tried for the third time that night to relax with her friends. 

“At least there’s the gracious interior of our very own apartment,” Kendall mumbled as the four boys looked around the room presumably having the same thoughts about it as Roxy. 

Logan and Carlos spoke their thoughts aloud, “This place is horrible.”

As if on cue, the legs of the couch gave out with a loud creek, toppling to the floor and taking the boys with it. Their assistant suppressed a laugh as their faces grew disappointed. 

“Oh, look,” James pointed to the ground beside him, “The couch covers the green stain now.” 

“I’m sure Gustavo would love to hear you complaining about his very generous free boarding at a world-famous hotel…” Roxy hummed, poking fun at her friends after their long day. 

“Easy for you to say!” Logan shot back, “You’ve got your own place all to yourself.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not all fun and games,” The girl said with a yawn. “It just gets a little lonely sometimes.”

“We need a new crib,” Carlos moaned as if it were an easy fix. 

Next to him, Logan rolled his eyes, “Like that’s just gonna fall from the sky…”

***

“We call it the ultimate teen crib, filled with amazing home electronics, arcade games…” 

Team Big Time Rush sat in a meeting with their bosses and company CEO to come together and decide on a commercial to help promote RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid products using their rising fame. At the front of the room, a set designer was going over the general plan, showing off her drawn image of the set and pointing out the incredible features with her pen. 

“And a swirly slide!” Carlos finished her sentence, excitedly pointing to the yellow drawn tube on the example board. 

The four boys were leaning in, very interested in the presentation and Roxanne wished their room was half as cool as the new studio set. The girl was lazily taking notes about construction times and costume ideas, sneaking in a few written guitar riffs here and there as she got distracted. 

The construction woman winked at Carlos, nearly sending him over the edge.

“Cool, right?” Griffin piped up, looking over at the band trying to find a weird crumb of approval. “Put a swirly slide in my office.” 

His assistant, Obdul, quickly nodded his head and rushed out of the room to complete his assigned task.

Next to her, Gustavo grunted. “Griffin, I don’t know what this is, but I need to work with the dawgs on harmonies today.” 

Were the seven hours from yesterday not enough? 

The thought sat with the girl for a moment before a few lines popped into her head. It had been a while since a lyric had come to her so she grabbed her book a bit more aggressively than normal and flipped through the pages until she found the one with her work in progress. 

I’ve gotta keep on believing

That everything takes time

I’ll make up any reason

To make you mine

The CEO did not back down, “Change your plans. Our ancient Japanese founder, Mr. Fujizaki, wants to dump our music division.”

Roxanne’s head snapped up, looking over at the man with wide eyes and then over to Gustavo who shared an equally as worried look. 

“But,” He continued, glancing at the band, “you boys are going to change his mind.” 

This part of the conversation completely flew over the boy’s heads. They were enamored with the drawing at the front of the room, probably fantasizing about what 2-J would look like with a sweet makeover. Roxy brought her right hand in front of their faces, jotting down music notes for her verse with her left, and snapped her fingers, bringing them back to reality. 

“We… get to live there?” Kendall asked, dumbfounded as he pointed to the drawing on the easel. 

With a smile, Griffin answered. “Yes… for two hours, while you shoot a promotional video surrounded by RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/ Sanyoid products,” He crossed to the front of the room to face his employees. “Which will show Fujizaki why our future rock stars are perfect for selling his blenders, plasma TVs, and missile defense systems.” 

“Uh,” The writer started tentatively, “BTR can’t be pro-missile.” 

“Why not?” The man asked, dead serious. 

She looked to her boss for help but he was too busy rubbing circles around his temples. 

“Well… Our core demographic is teenagers, right? They don’t buy missile defense systems. They want to buy things like video games and Big Time Rush CDs.”  

The CEO placed his chin in his hands, as though he was deep in thought. After a moment, he conceded, “Good point, Miss Somerset. Strike the part about missiles in the script.” 

A woman on his team with red streaks in her jet-black hair jumped up, gathering a bunch of papers in her arms before running out the door to do some last-minute rewrites. 

“Oh,” Griffin added as he sat down at the head of the table, snapping his fingers and pointing to the producer. “Do some interviews.”

Kelly’s pen scribbled even faster than Roxy’s did in order to catch every word the white-haired man spewed out.  

“You know, why they love to sing, why he wears that helmet, and why they love RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid arcade games, industrial strength playground slides, and the new XZ5 Micro laptop.” 

An assistant placed a tiny black laptop in his hands as he finished speaking so he could show it off to the group. Maybe the writer would be able to swipe one from the set as a little souvenir. 

While she was thinking about what she could do with her new laptop, James smacked his hand down on the table. “And we could all wear bandanas! It could be our thing: Bandanas…” 

The resounding silence in the room gave the wannabe his answer.

It was Gustavo who decided to break it, “Griffin, you can’t keep coming into my studio every day and interrupting my training sessions.”

A chill swept through the room, causing the girl to shiver as the CEO stared back at his underling. 

Did he not hear the part about shutting down the music division? 

“Yes, I can. And do the interviews by the water. Fujizaki thinks water is lucky.” 

Kelly only stopped writing to ask a question, “But you want a performance in the teen hangout crib thing?” 

Once more, the girl thought about taking a micro laptop from the set. No one would really miss one tiny electronic. 

“Exactly! And I need it in two days, or the music division will be gone,” Griffin smiled as he stood up. “But have fun with it!”

As he walked out with the construction woman, already beginning to talk about building logistics, Roxy examined the shocked looks on her coworker’s faces. Compared to their first week in Hollywood, this seemed to be an easy challenge. Everything the band had wanted kept falling straight into their laps.

The first person to put their game face on was Kelly. After a quick once-over of her notes, the talent scout had formed a plan. “Okay, we’ll build the teenage crib here in Studio A. I’ll find a nice beach location for the interviews and put in some calls for a hot director.”

Roxanne’s “How about shooting at Santa Monica Pier?” was overshadowed by Gustavo’s “I’m a hot director! And we’re doing everything here because it’s easier, quicker, and cheaper. Dawgs, Roxanne, take a half day while we start to get everything set up.” 

No one was going to argue with that. 

The ride back to the Palm Woods was silent, which should have alerted the girl that the boys were hatching a plan, but she was too absorbed in her songwriting to notice. Along with the nice verse that had come from the meeting earlier, Roxanne had figured out a small tune that could be placed at the beginning of the song. Her pages were a total mess of writing, music staffs, and doodles as she wrote her ideas down as quickly as possible. 

By the time they made it back, she hadn’t even realized how fast the time had gone. Still engrossed, she was in the middle of scratching something out when she felt a hand placed on her shoulder. A vision of the other night flashed across her mind, four guys making their way towards her and grabbing her with such force.

Without thinking, she jumped, her head hitting the top of the car with a thud as the contents of her hands spilled down to the floor. 

“Sorry!” A bubbly voice was quick to apologize and when she turned, Carlos was there - practically frozen. The hand he had placed on her shoulder hovered in place next to his helmeted head.

The two stayed like that for a second, processing their exchange, not sure what to do next. 

“No,” she bent down to collect her things, “Don’t be sorry! You just startled me, that's all.” 

The smile he gave was guilty looking as he stepped out of the way to let her exit the vehicle. Up ahead, she could see the other three making their way into the lobby and followed as fast as she could. Footsteps pounded on the pavement as the black-haired boy caught up to his assistant. 

“I’m sorry, really! You have the same look on your face as you did last night-” 

“It’s all good, man!” Roxanne pushed out, faking a confident smile. “Let’s head back to your apartment and enjoy our half-day.” 

Carlos nodded as the two came to a stop in front of the elevator. It was clear he wanted to talk about it more and she loved that he was so caring, but she needed to sort out her own feelings first. 

I’m fine with physical touch, so why did I flinch like that? I trust him!

She stopped her line of thinking there as her friends piled into 2-J, making a beeline for the back wall. Kendall had a piece of poster board in his hands and when he held it up, the band’s plan became clear to her. On the board was the Ultimate Teen Hangout from the presentation earlier, complete with colorful decorations, a better floor plan, and brand new, top-of-the-line electronics, and they wanted the set to be built in their old, gross apartment. 

“No. No way. It’s impossible!” Was all Logan could say, hands flying around in the air as he tried to properly articulate his thoughts.

Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

Their assistant spoke her mind, “You know I work miracles for you guys, but this might be a little bit out of my limit. But, if we get a little help we might manage to pull this off…” 

The board was passed off to the studious boy as Kendall stepped in front of them. Immediately, she could smell speech. 

“A week ago, we were a hockey team, and a songwriter, in Minnesota,” The frontman reminded the team. “And today, we’re a band in L.A.! Anything is possible.” 

A sigh came from Logan, “Okay. You have a point, but how are we gonna get all this in here?” 

Roxanne pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts list to try and find the name of the company that would be installing the set in Studio A. 

As she did this, a smirk appeared across James’ face; he had formed a plan. Flicking his wrist, he held his right arm out, showing off a fist full of colorful bandanas. “Take any color you want.” 

Kendall was quick to chime in, “We’re not wearing bandanas in the video, okay?”

“You know what? You guys never support my risky fashion choices!” The long-haired boy retorted.

“Stop!” Roxy called, knowing their bickering could easily escalate. “We have bigger things to worry about right now and a very short time period to convince the set designer to build here, not at Rocque Records.” 

“Yeah, that's simple,” Logan said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And how are we gonna do that?” 

The frontman smiled, “Logan, are you forgetting that the Palm Woods is home of the future famous?” 

Catching his hint, Roxanne sent a text to someone she knew would always be up for a job.

R: Are you free to help me out this afternoon?

Camille DM’d her back right away. 

C: tell me when and where

The band was already out the door before she could reply. Doing her best to text and run, she followed them down the hall and into the stairwell. 

R: En route to the lobby. Come give the guys a show ;p

When they made it to the lobby, Kendall held his arms out to stop the group - driving Roxy right into Logan’s back. 

“Ouch!” hissed the assistant, hand flying to her nose as Logan whispered a quick apology. 

Kendall stood still, arms spread wide as his eyes darted back and forth across the lobby. “Wait for it…”

A hand flew out and smacked him right across the face. 

“Trevor! I trusted you with my heart, my soul, my money! I-”

The girl who slapped her friend stood, seething, in front of the band and their assistant. Roxy admired her beautiful black vintage dress and pearl jewelry. She looked like she was auditioning for a soap opera and had definitely nailed the grieving housewife look. 

“Camille!” Called Kendall, snapping the actress out of her daze.

Her response was nonchalant. “What?” 

“We need to borrow your acting!” Spoke the band in unison as Roxy gave a little wave from behind them. 

“I already told Roxy I’d help, but it was sweet of you to come ask in person,” Camille winked in Logan’s direction. 

“Great!” The assistant beamed upon her confirmation, “Here’s the plan.” 

***

Team Big Time Rush waited anxiously outside of the back door entrance to Rocque Records. After a quick briefing and costume change into something more professional, the five had sent Camille inside in order to tell the set designer about Griffin’s “change of plans” to have everything installed at the Palm Woods. Roxy had even printed out a fake business card with Kendall’s phone number on it instead of Griffin’s that the actress was to hand off to the contractor as a backup. 

“Do you think she’s gonna convince them?” Logan asked. He had been fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt for the past few minutes, worried about how much trouble their plan could land them in with Gustavo. 

“She’s the best,” The songwriter mused. “We don’t have anything to worry about besides your Griffin impression.” 

Beside her, James attempted to join the conversation with, “Of course she’ll convince the contractor. Did you see the way she looked in that -” 

Roxanne elbowed him in the ribs before he could finish. 

He tried to shoot a retort back but was soon silenced by the ringing of Kendall’s phone. The blond jumbled it in his hands, startled by the shock of the call before he dropped it in Roxy’s palms. 

Gripping the cell, she shot him a frustrated look; the agreement was he would answer it, it was his phone after all. 

After a fourth ring, she hit the accept button and pulled the phone to her ear. 

“Arthur Griffin’s office. One moment, please.” 

Hand over the receiver she turned to Logan whose eyes widened in fear. 

“You’re up.” She smiled, passing the device and stomping her foot down onto his. “Good luck.”

A yelp escaped his lips as he brought the phone to his ear. Clearing his throat, he answered in a voice much deeper than his own. “Hello? Uh-huh. Yes. Move that set to the Palm Woods, now. Okay, I need to touch my llama now. Bye.” 

Camille slid beside the girl before the end of the call, watching Logan very intently. When the impersonator hung up the phone, the band erupted in cheers. 

“I owned them in there!” Camille stated, giving Roxy a high five. The two laughed among themselves before Logan’s stress began to boil over. 

“All you’ve done is set us up for big-time trouble!” 

Roxanne stepped in front of the actress. “We all agreed to this plan, it isn’t Camille's fault!”

Kendall sighed, “Oh, our little Logey, so pessimistic.”

“So scared of everything,” Carlos chimed in. 

“So bad at impressions,” Scoffed the writer. 

Their hired actress finished “And so incredibly hot.”

Roxy stifled a laugh as the four boys turned to her, trying to pick apart her addition to their conversation. Their assistant already knew how hard Logan would eventually fall for her friend - he just needed a bit of time to realize how into him Camille was. 

Shaking his head and trying to get the thought out of his mind, Logan continued, “I’m not scared of everything and I’m not bad at impressions! I’m just realistic, as in, what are gonna tell your mom about the crew that’ll be invading your apartment tomorrow from 11-3?”

“Let’s talk shop at a different time.” Their assistant warned them, gesturing at the studio door to the side of them. “We need to get back to the hotel to talk about this before someone hears us.” 

The ride back was quick and full of silence as the team formulated their next move. They arrived at 2-J, and the boys were too busy sitting down at the dinner table to ask Mrs. Knight if she needed any help in the kitchen. 

“Hi, Mrs. Knight!” Roxanne greeted, “Anything I can help you with?”

The offer was met with a kind smile, “It’s alright, honey, thank you very much! How about you go join the boys at the table? I’ve just gotta bring this plate of hot dogs out.” 

“Sure,” the girl said, “Just let me help with the dishes after.” 

Grabbing a bottle of water for herself from the fridge, Roxy made her way to the table. Sitting down, she examined her friends who were all still deep in thought about how tomorrow was going to play out. Everything had to be perfect or else they would never get the apartment of their dreams. 

“Hey! I almost forgot,” The redheaded woman laughed to herself as she addressed the teens, “I’m gonna go look for a job tomorrow, so I’ll be gone from about 11-3.”

The plate of food was set down on the table and Carlos reached for it hungrily, scaring Kendall’s mother who sighed and quickly left the room, mumbling something about needing to find an outfit to wear at the interviews. 

“No way,” Roxy whispered in disbelief. “You guys must be, like, the luckiest people on the planet. How does everything always go your way?” 

James threw a glance her way, “It’s not luck. When you’re naturally this good-looking, the world works with you, not against you.” 

Silence washed over the room as the assistant tried not to laugh at his ridiculous comment. What a way to see the world.

“Okay, that happened,” Logan sighed from across the table. The girl wasn’t sure if he was talking about Mrs. Knight’s comment or James’ comment. “But what now?” 

More focused on the food than the conversation at hand, Carlos continued to devour his third hot dog. The boy must have noticed his assistant eyeing the plate in the middle of the table, so he lifted it up and held it in her direction. With thanks, she took one of the dogs, still waiting for Kendall’s reply. On the side of her, James was too busy tying bandanas around his wrists to contribute as well. 

“I have no idea,” Was the frontman’s shaky response. “Frankly, I can’t believe we got this far.”

Fair enough. Hope we can go further. Roxanne thought about the big TV from the stock image. It would be a great place to watch concert videos and the surround sound might make it seem like she’s actually there. I really need that TV.

“Hey, look!” James exclaimed, pulling her away from her daydream as he showed off a colorful smattering of bandanas tied around his wrist, “Wrist-danas.” 

The four ignored him. 

“So, next we worry about Gustavo,” Roxy stated, not sure where to go from there. 

Kendall bounced off of that, “We need to find someone who can think like him, someone who can get inside his head.”

“Where could we even find someone that devious?” The writer wondered out loud as Kendall’s little sister, Katie, emerged from her room. “Oh, perfect!” 

Katie, after a brief rundown of the situation, disappeared for about 10 minutes before reemerging with a drawn-out plan on a whiteboard. The group huddled around the brown coffee table in front of the broken couch towards the back of the apartment as she began her presentation. 

The way Katie spoke was dignified and commanding, “First, you’re gonna need more future stars from the Palm Woods. I recommend the Jennifers for their lack of fear.”

Roxanne jotted down basic notes in her book as a reference. 

“Next, you’ll need cordless power tools, sawdust, cool code phrases, and -”

From behind her, Kendall held his hand up, “Wait, Katie. Where did you get the whiteboard?” 

Is that really important right now?

“I swiped it off Bitters,” The girl had a very guilty look on her face, despite the fact she felt no guilt. “Speaking of Bitters, you have to keep him in his cage all day.” 

Exchanging glances, the five knew that wouldn’t be hard at all. 

“But the key to this whole ultra 2-J makeover is convincing Gustavo to shoot the interviews by the pool like the dog food commercial Roxanne complained about all last night.” 

At the mention of this, Roxy turned beet-red. “What? I never told you about the commercial.” 

“No, you didn’t, but you told Camille on the phone last night. We share a wall, remember?” Katie said coolly. 

“I’ll remind the contractors to put extra soundproofing in the walls then…” She dropped the sentence. 

“Anyway,” Kendall shifted the conversation, “Once our teen dream remodeling is complete, Gustavo will have no time and no choice but to shoot our rock performance right here.”

Heads nodded in agreement as Katie finished stating her terms, “And I get the first turn on the swirly slide.” 

Though he had been inactive this entire conversation, Carlos interjected, “I get first turn on the swirly slide!” 

“I do.”

“No! I do!’ 

“You can go together!” Yelled Roxy, ending the fight there. 

We always have bigger fish to fry.

Beside her, James stood up, tightening a teal bandana behind his head. Game face on, he turned to his friends, confident. “Let’s do this.” 

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of colored bandanas. 

“We’re not wearing bandanas!” His friends shot back. 

“Bandanas are cool.” The tall boy finished with a pout, not ready to give up on his mission just yet.

With that, each team member retreated back to their rooms with a clear plan in place for how they were going to con their boss in the morning. 

***

“Oh yea, and I say so!”

Despite it being so early in the morning, Gustavo was yelling at Kelly as the band turned the corner of the studio level of Rocque Records with their assistant. 

“He’s in a bad mood,” Logan hissed, “Abort mission.” 

“Mr. Rocque is always in a bad mood,” Roxy stated matter-of-factly as she placed her hand on his arm to help calm him down.  

The frontman whispered, “Just stay cool. If we fail, we fail.” As he fidgeted with the printed sample pictures they had taken earlier by the pool to convince their boss the Palm Woods pool was a prime water location.

When they reached the section of the studio that was supposed to be where the interviews were filmed, the ugliest backdrop the teens had ever seen was set up with a cacophony of ocean sounds coming from a small boombox in the corner of the room. The background showed a scene of the beach with a few palm trees to the left, but it was crinkled and ripped in places making it very obvious to onlookers that this was not truly shot near any kind of real water. 

As the team approached, Gustavo held his hand up in a ‘stop’ motion, looking at something on Kelly’s phone. “Heel. Stay. Speak.” 

What the hell… He really thinks they’re dogs. 

With a nudge from Roxanne, Kendall began pitching, “We took some pictures of the pool at the Palm Woods. The greatest pool ever, very lucky water.”

“It’s a great location for the interviews,” the assistant chimed in. 

Carlos backed her up, “Hot directors shoot there all the time! Swirly Sli-” 

Before he could finish, James smacked him upside the head, in fear their cover would be blown. 

Gustavo handed the photos off to Kelly, who had an amused smile on her face as she examined the silly pictures of the guys Roxy had taken and printed out before they came to work. 

“Oh, the dawgs are directing my video now? Well, let me tell you how it works here.” His tone was getting more angry as the volume of his voice increased. “You are the dawgs and I am the trainer. Now, sit.” 

So I’m a dog now too? Great. 

None of the teens sat on his command, trying to prove his point incorrect. 

“Don’t sit,” Gustavo ordered. 

Ultimately, Roxy didn’t get the memo the rest of her friends were sitting down until Carlos gently grasped her wrist and pulled her backward. She fell onto the back of the couch next to him, very surprised he didn’t startle her.  

“Sorry, again,” He whispered, “I tried to be more gentle this time.” 

Her smile was genuine as she told him, “It’s okay, I think it’s just people grabbing me, uh, roughly, that’s been freaking me out lately.” 

Next to Carlos, James popped his head around the black-haired boy. He had a look of concern on his face, a side of him she had never seen before. “What? Did something happen?”. 

Meanwhile, Kelly and Gustavo were deliberating at the front of the room, not paying attention to the teens' conversation. 

“No, no,” she waved her hands in an X motion to try and get them off her case. “Everything is just fine.” 

“Then why are you talking about people grabbing you?” The bandana wearer shot back. 

“What?” Kendall and Logan had joined the conversation now. 

“Nothing! I was just freaked out by the guys who kicked us off the Sexy Dog Dog Food set the other night,” She tried to figure out a way to change the subject but the boys wouldn’t drop it. 

Still whispering, Logan asked, “Those guys bothered you? Didn’t you walk to the lobby alone? ”

“Yes, I did. After I threatened to beat them with a hockey stick. It was just scary, okay?” 

“Nice going with the hockey stick thing…” Carlos thought aloud. “But tell us next time so we can beat the snot out of those guys!” 

The other three nodded their heads in agreement. 

It would be a lie if she told herself their words didn’t mean anything, but in all fairness, she had only known them for a week.  

“Thanks. I just need some processing time, so can we talk about it when I’m ready?”

Conveniently, Kelly and Gustavo’s squabble had launched onto a more massive scale as the woman walked over to the couch and stood with the teens. She was team Palm Woods pool. 

“This pool looks great,” Kelly said, “And it’s close enough that we could be back here by 3 to shoot the performance at the ultrateen hangout place.”

The band backed her up with words of encouragement and looked to Gustavo in hopes he would change his mind. In the meantime, Roxanne stared at her shoes as more scenes from the other night popped into her head. 

I appreciate those idiots but they don't know when to stop. 

In an attempt to keep images of last night out of her mind, the girl did her best to focus on her musical work in progress. Maybe she could squeeze a couple of productive lyrics out, but she knew she was too unfocused to come up with anything on the fly. 

“No!” Erupted Gustavo, leading all eyes to him. “You do what I say, and I say no, no, no!” 

With every “no!” came a stomp of his foot. He looked like a child throwing a tantrum as he jumped up and down, yelling at his team. On the final “no!”, the wires holding up the terrible beach backdrop snapped, causing the light fixtures to tumble down with it. The canvas felt at the man’s feet, revealing a man on a ladder holding up a prop seagull. 

When he saw the destroyed set behind him, he faced the team once more, a grimace forming on his face. “Hey, uh, let’s do the interviews at the Palm Woods.” 

So, to the hotel they went. 

Gustavo took the film crew to the back right corner of the pool in order to get the appropriate interview shots and lighting, while Kelly negotiated with Bitters over a multitude of fees necessary in order to use the location. During this, the band was sent to hair and makeup while their assistant confirmed the plan with everyone helping them in the lobby. Once the hotel manager was in his office, they would strike. 

As Roxanne went to join the band at their station, she passed the cranky man, signaling their plan was about to be set in motion. 

Katie popped up from behind her brother’s chair, a text tone going off on her little flip phone. “The bird is in the cage and the Jennifers are in place.” 

On her signal, Kendall addressed the group, “Okay, team, remember your missions. James, you stall Gustavo. Carlos, Katie, and Camille, you head to Rocque Records and fake build the ultrateen crib, while Rox, Logan, and I install the swirly slide and all those other electronic goodies.” 

The girl liked the way his green eyes lit up at the mention of the electronics. 

I am so getting my TV. 

From across the pool, Gustavo yelled, “Okay, James is up first! I’ll shoot the rest of you dawgs later.”

Shuttering at his potential double meaning, the writer hoped everything went according to plan.

“Knock ‘em dead, James.” Roxy encouraged, punching his arm. 

“Good luck kiss?” He offered, leaning one of his cheeks a bit too close to her face.

The assistant rolled her eyes as she pulled back, “Move or I’ll threaten to beat you with a hockey stick too.”

Scrambling away, James took his seat in front of the camera, more than ready for his close up. Logan beckoned her over to where he and Kendall were standing as he muttered the details of the plan to himself. Meanwhile, the blond spread a thick eye-black under his eyes, face stone cold. With a wave, he showed off the dark material on his fingers. “Want any, Rox?” 

“Doesn’t go with my outfit.”

“It’ll increase your stealth by 300 percent.” 

For the first time that day, she laughed. The morning had been so stressful getting everything in place there had been no time to focus on anything else. So for now, she let herself enjoy the calm before the storm. 

“How can I argue with that?” Roxanne leaned closer, letting him smear the cold concoction under her left eye. “You know, that sounded like something your sister would say.” 

His eyebrows raised as the thought turned over in his mind, moving onto her right eye. “She had to get it from somewhere.” 

“Are you guys done?” Logan interrupted, he looked so scared he was practically shaking in his shoes. “We need to get out of here before something goes wrong.” 

“It’s going to be fine,” Roxy assured him. “Now get over here, you need some of this stuff too. It’ll reduce your anxiety by 300 percent.”

Though the boy did not appreciate her joke about his nerves, he allowed Kendall to apply the cream under his eyes as well. Once done with that, Logan dragged his team members to the entrance of the hotel to check on the construction crew. 

A conveniently placed planter with a handful of young trees in it was their hiding place and Logan dug out three hats with fake, yet similar, shrubbery hot glued to the top, ensuring no one would break their cover. He plopped one on Roxy’s head - still complaining about the eye-black. Along with the tree hats, Kendall had apparently stashed a boombox preloaded with the Mission Impossible theme which began to play as they waited. 

They’re so weird.

Perfectly on time, the white truck with the construction company logo they were looking for roared to a stop in front of the building, at 11 am on the dot.  Time to tell Brown-Haired Jennifer. 

“Roll out!” Kendall whispered and the three took off running to the lobby.

The crew was too preoccupied getting their supplies out of the truck bed to notice three teens with trees on their heads taking off from behind the planter. 

Ignoring the weird looks from hotel patrons, they made their way to where Jennifer was standing in an official Palm Woods uniform. How she managed to get a hold of that, she didn’t know, but wouldn’t put it past Camille to have one on loan from her large wardrobe. 

“Jennifer, you’re up,” Kendall said with a charming smile. The three made to take off again, to 2-J this time, but the actress held her hand up to stop them. 

“Just to be clear,” her tone was malicious. “We get to be in the video, which will be seen by a lot of people, right?”

Their drive for fame was something to be admired. 

“Are you kidding?” Roxy piped up, scoffing, “It’s gonna be seen in Japan!” 

            She conveniently left out the part about the project being more like an ad, than a music video.

Logan threw in a wink and finger guns for good measure before the team pushed past the pleased girl to get to the next plant potter inside the lobby. Jumping to clear the height, she barely made it over before the set designer walked into the lobby. Hopefully, the swinging branches wouldn’t be too suspicious. 

To no one's surprise, Brown-Haired Jennifer executed her role perfectly and the contractors began to make their way to the elevators. Now that their plan was fully coming together Roxy watched in awe as the swirly slide pieces were carried through the lobby, knowing her TV was soon to follow. 

As the parade of supplies slowly came to end, they stood up to follow. 

“I still say this is a bad idea,” Logan complained.

“Hey, a life without risk is a life unlived, my friend.” The frontman assured him as Roxy nodded along. 

They really needed to get going, so in an attempt to remind the boys, she tugged on their sleeves and nodded towards the elevator, “Now, off to 2-H.” 

Roxanne and Kendall exited their place from behind the planter, making good time to the elevators before they realized a member of their team had been left behind. When she stopped, she could see Logan from behind the palm fronds pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Wow, these hats don’t work at all. 

“Kendall, wait up,” She called ahead, returning back to where she stood moments ago. Holding out her hand, she offered a gentle smile to the nervous boy. “We’re not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to, but we’ve already gotten this far. We might as well see it through.” 

It took a moment for him to consider his options with a very contemplative face. When his expression softened, he glanced between Roxy and Kendall still weighing his options. 

“Okay, okay.” He sighed, taking her hand. “But we better not get caught.” 

From there, Roxy practically dragged him into the elevator Kendall had been holding. 

“How do you think everyone else is doing?” The girl wondered, taking out her phone to see if she had any SOS texts from her friends. “No messages from anyone so far.”

“Good, good.” The blond repeated, seemingly lost in thought. 

Ding!

They exited the elevator and made a beeline for the girl’s apartment. Though she fumbled with the keys, eventually she got the door open and the three had a moment to catch their breath. 

Various construction-like noises came from the apartment next door, a sign that the set was in the process of being built. 

Kendall was overjoyed. “So far, so good.” 

Walking over to her window, Roxy pushed the curtains back, revealing James still shooting his interview by the pool. Everything seemed to be going great down there; Gustavo didn’t even have a red face yet and they had been shooting for quite some time.

“All good at the pool too.” 

The boys rummaged through her fridge looking for some water. 

After he had grabbed a bottle, Kendall noticed the worry on his friend's face, gently placing his hand on Logan’s shoulder, a confident smirk marking his face. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Peeking out the window again, she saw Gustavo silently scream at James. 

“I lied, he’s starting to yell again.” 

“It’s okay!” Kendall assured his assistant. “James once kept the principal of Twin Oaks High occupied for 3 hours while we trashed their locker rooms.” 

Her eyebrows raised in interest, but that would have to be a story for another time. Moving the curtains again, she saw Gustavo chasing after James. 

“Oh, wow, Gustavo is going to kill him.” 

The three exchanged worried glances, they all wanted to help their friend, but the risk of getting caught was far too great. 

Buzz buzz

Checking the caller ID, on his phone, Kendall’s face went pale. 

“It’s the set designer.” 

Knowing this meant she was up, Roxy’s palm hit her face. “Ugh, give it here.” 

“Guys, I’m worried…” Logan started, but the girl held a finger to her lips as she took the phone from Kendall. 

“Arthur Griffin’s office. One moment please.” As she did before, her foot smashed down onto Logan’s as she placed the phone on speaker mode before handing it off to the pained boy. 

Thankfully, his Griffin impression pulled through.

“Hello.”

“About that stage door-”

“Just build it!” He hissed, quickly glancing from his assistant to Kendall. 

The two shared an odd look for a moment, but there was too much going on for Roxy to decipher what they were talking about.

“Yeah… okay… Also, the room’s too small. So if you want that swirly slide to fit, we’re gonna have to bust into the ceiling. Is that okay?”

No way. Roxanne immediately shook her head back and forth. They were already going to get in trouble with Gustavo if James had him on the run and now they could get in trouble for far more property damage than they already were. This was turning into a bad idea. 

Logan placed his hand on the receiver, “Break through the ceiling?” His tone was a pained whisper. “No, no. We’ll be arrested.”

“Uh, sir, can we demolish the ceiling?” 

Her pleading eyes met Kendall’s; the blond shook his head in defeat. 

Immediately, Logan gave his reply, “Yes.” 

The sound of power tools practically shook the building as the boy hung up. 

“You better be right about this taking risks thing.” 

The girl was too stunned to speak. All she could do now was try and come up with an explanation that would get them in the least amount of trouble. 

“Fire in the hole!” 

A shout came from next door, followed by a terrible boom. The writer placed her hands over her ears and shut her eyes, feeling the blow shake the ground. 

When she opened her eyes again, Kendall had Logan in his arms as the poor boy shook. 

“You guys are massive, massive idiots. No way Bitters doesn’t know something’s up now. We need to go!”

The front door was opened and the three piled out, running smack dab into the Jennifers in the hall.

Brown-Haired Jennifer yelled, “Code red, Bitters is on his way!” 

Another boom echoed in the halls. 

“What is going on out here?” The manager’s shrill voice grew closer.

Opening her mouth the answer, the writer was quickly cut off by the frontman, “Please tell me you guys are good at teen scream horror flicks.” 

Blonde Jennifer took off her sunglasses and the other two followed suit, rolling their eyes in sync. “They’re desperate… We want talking parts in your next three videos, you do all our ironing for the next month, and we sing backup on your next track.” 

They’re definitely not going to do any of that.

“Done!” Logan sealed the deal.

“Where’s the ketchup?” 

Kendall held up a full bottle. 

“Hey! That’s from my fridge!” Roxy grumbled, but he was too busy squirting it on the actresses to listen. 

When he finished, the team made way for the pool as the girls ran down the hall, screaming as though their lives depended on it.

“Man, they’re good.” The girl mused as their act led Bitters back down to the lobby. “Now we have to focus on Gustavo.” 

Going the opposite way of the hotel manager to avoid being seen, the three reached the elevators and pressed the button for the first floor. 

“We’ve just gotta keep him occupied for one more hour,” Kendall stated confidently. 

It was going to be hard, but not impossible. 

“As long as each of you stretches out your interviews, we should be golden. Plus I can get a smoothie or something and pretend to spill it on one of your costumes to slow production down as well.” The writer thought aloud as they entered the elevator.

Despite the mess and the chaos and the general uncertainty of their plan, Logan was grinning ear to ear as he brushed off what his teammates had said, “I can’t believe it, I think we’re actually gonna make it. I’m not even scared!” 

Ding

Elevator doors opened to reveal a very angry Gustavo and a very annoyed Bitters, who held a french fry covered in ketchup. As if they were now starring in a teen scream flick, the band members shrieked and Roxy felt herself freeze in fear. 

“Why are the Jennifers dripping ketchup all over my Palm Woods?” Bitters knew why, but still made a point of dragging his question out in hopes of a confession. Gustavo plucked the fry from the manager's hand. 

“Dawgs, interviews, now!” 

Their boss reached his hands out and grabbed hold of the boy’s shirts, balling his fists to ensure they wouldn’t escape. Trying to give words of encouragement in an attempt to calm the situation down, their assistant rushed after them to plead with the producer. Her efforts went to waste as Gustavo kept dragging the two out to the pool. Though her friends' eyes begged her not to leave them, Bitters had entered the elevator and she couldn’t risk their plan being blown wide open.

Stairs were the fastest option, so that’s where she went. As she practically sprinted, she could still hear the loud sounds of the power tools being used to build the set on the second floor. When she turned the corner, Bitters was at the end of the hallway. 

She moved to try and block him from reaching the room, but a flash of purple wooshed by her, and a figure hid her from the manager’s view. The new challenger and Bitters stood off for a moment before the figure screamed, scaring the manager who quickly retreated; a nearby supply closet was his respite as he barricaded himself inside. From the end of the hall, dumbfounded as she watched the entire exchange, Roxy heard the figure laugh and lock the man inside the room, wedging a single bandana inside the frame to seal the man in. 

When the person turned around, he and the girl faced each other. He was clad in a black shirt and skinny jeans with a cape and mask fashioned out of purple bandanas.

“James?” 

The boy took his mask off, ruffling his hair. “And they said bandanas weren’t cool?”  

“They’re not,” A smile danced across her face. “But thanks for your help. Hopefully, that’ll keep Bitters occupied for a while.” 

The hero walked over to his assistant, gently taking her hand and placing a light kiss on the back of it. “Bandana Man is at your service, always.” 

It was hard to ignore the turning of her stomach as she let her hand fall out of his. Roxanne cleared her throat and looked anywhere but where he stood, “I’ll be sure not to reveal your secret identity…”

As if on cue, the whirring of power tools came to a stop, highlighting the silence of the hall as the two stood there, unsure of what to do next.

“Uh, we can hide at my place? Gustavo’s bound to be here any second” Roxy suggested, fishing in her pockets for her keys. 

“No!” James blurted, very quickly after her offer. “No, that’ll be the, uh, first place he looks.” 

Her eyes narrowed, “He’d go to your place, not mine.” 

As the boy sighed, shaking his head, the door to 2-J opened. They jumped, trying to find a place to hide from the construction workers. At the end of the hall was the door to the stairwell and right now, that was as good a place as any - her room was on the opposite side of the newly renovated apartment; they wouldn’t be able to get there without being seen. Hands flew to her shoulders, scaring her, as James forcefully pushed her down the hall and onto the landing between staircases. 

Moments after the pair took refuge in the stairwell and she harshly swatted his hands away, having trouble controlling her breathing. Roxanne’s hands were shaking slightly as she wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. 

Realizing her panicked state was the result of his actions, the boy paled, “Shit, sorry… I am so, so sorry, Roxy, I forgot what you said earlier.” 

“It’s… It’s alright,” She pushed out between shaky breaths. Sinking down to the floor, she continued, “I trust you… You were just trying to help me.” 

Eyes growing wide, he dropped down next to her. Neither of them said a word as she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to gain control of her pounding heart. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. 

“Did you hear what the ocean said to the beach?” 

Roxanne sat up and turned to face James through labored breaths, one eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?” 

He faced her as well, “Why would the ocean say ‘what are you doing’ to the beach? That would be a terrible joke.” 

“I think you should stick with singing, comedy really isn’t the move for you,” She shot back, chuckling at her own joke. 

A smile graced his lips as well, “In a roundabout way, it got you laughing so I’m calling that a win.” 

“You were trying to make me laugh?” Her giggles were starting to hurt her cheeks. “With a terrible joke like that? So stupid.” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s helping at the moment.” 

A strange, but comfortable silence washed over the stairwell for a moment, before the assistant turned to her friend. “Give me one of those bandanas you had earlier.”

Eyes lighting up, James pulled a fist full from his pocket, but before he handed them over he clicked his tongue, “You could at least say please.”

“Please…” Roxy sighed, reaching out and picking a bright red and white patterned cloth, “...Don’t push your luck.”

As she tied up her hair using the bandana, their eyes met for a brief moment and neither of them realized the other looked away to hide the light shade of pink their cheeks were turning. 

Buzz

When she was finished, Roxy pulled her phone out of her back pocket to see a text message from Kelly, bringing her thoughts back to the situation at hand. 

K: r u with the guys rn?

R: Kendall and Logan are at the pool for their interviews

R: Carlos, James, and I are in my apartment for a break

K: hm rlly?

K: Sent a photo

“Do you think the Crib has a built-in panic room?” Roxanne posed the question aloud, moving to stand back up. 

James looked at her quizzically, “Why would it need one of those?” 

She held her phone to his eye level, showing the photo Kelly had sent her of Camille, Katie, and Carlos covered in sawdust sitting on the floor of Studio A. 

“Because we are so dead.” 

A scream that could only belong to Gustavo Rocque echoed throughout the Palm Woods hotel, causing the pair to run as fast as they could to the end of the hall and patiently wait outside the apartment. Construction of the Ultrateen Crib in apartment 2-J had taken a lot quicker than planned, even after they blew into the ceiling - as evidenced by the producer's extreme reaction. 

By the time it took to gather all of the film crew by the pool and the missing parts of Team BTR to get to the hotel from Rocque Records, the set had been completed. It was everything the teens had dreamed of.

From the moment the door was blown down by their angry boss, the renovated apartment captured every part of Roxanne’s attention, pulling it in a million ways. Of course, she was first drawn to the expensive TV and stereo system at the back of the room, so this was where she situated herself. On one end of their new bright orange couch, she sat and examined the room, while James jumped on the other side. Instead of the original brown and drabby walls, 2-J had splashes of blue, yellow, green, and white on every wall, giving the room a funhouse vibe. As for the arcade games and toys that covered the walls, she couldn’t even describe the massive quantity that had been placed neatly all around the room. Kendall moved about the room trying to test out all of the games, making sure they were up to the band’s standards. Electric guitars brandished the wall above the entryway, a touch she personally loved. 

Do those actually work…? The most notable feature was the bright yellow swirly slide which was attached to a small staircase and loft high above her head. Katie and Carlos were atop it, waiting for the first chance to break in the large tube. Though the thing that shocked the assistant the most was the newly redesigned kitchen. State-of-the-art appliances and a brand new sink, fit with a garbage disposal and dishwasher, would make Mrs. Knight very happy. Attached was a small breakfast bar with four swivel chairs, one of which Logan kept spinning himself around in. 

Their boss stood smack in the middle of the room, still screaming, with the set designer behind him, looking very accomplished with herself. Kelly, though astonished, brandished a worried look on her face as her eyes kept darting around the room and back to Gustavo, in fear of his next move. 

Clapping the man on the shoulder, the designer commended herself and her team, “It came out really good, huh?” 

Before anyone else could speak Kendall jumped in, “It came out amazing!” 

Gustavo and Kelly were still unable to muster up their words as they kept looking around the room in disbelief. From the top of the loft, Carlos yelled, “Swirly slide!” as he and Katie jumped in, dumping out at the bottom onto a black, cushy mat in a fit of giggles. 

Gustavo let out an inhuman noise and turned to Kelly who informed him that there was no time to move the set back to the studio if they wanted the commercial to be filmed on time. The man made the noise again. Kelly sighed, “The video has to be great for Fujizaki or we are out of a job.” 

Oh yeah, the writer reminisced, having completely forgotten about the purpose of the commercial. Like the guys, she had allowed herself to get sidetracked in order to get the apartment of their dreams. As their boss slowly made his way over to Kendall, pure rage in his eyes, she was knocked from her thoughts. Hands landed on both sides of the boy’s arms as Gustavo shook him back and forth, groaning the whole time. 

“Light it, and shoot it!” The producer yelled, completely out of time to undo any of the damage the band and their assistant had done. 

***

“Cut! Print!” 

The commercial filming went off without a hitch and as soon as her boss called time, Roxanne ran out into the living room to provide the guys with water and towels after their dance routine. Completing the interviews out by the pool had been easy once the four didn’t have to stall their boss any longer, so the mini-music video in the crib was the last thing they had to complete before it made its way off to the video editors. 

“And strike the set!”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Several people immediately descended upon the apartment and began to take down decorations and place them into the hallway, returning the apartment to its original dreary interior.

“Where are you going with that?” The frontman practically yelled. He and the band were melting into a state of distress as their assistant forced each one of them to take the items she had prepared. 

The set designer turned to the group, shrugging as she acted like the answer was obvious to the teens when clearly, it wasn’t. “Back to the warehouse. Where else would it go?”  

The four of them protested as Roxy tried to cope with their major loss in real time, hoping it wouldn’t affect them in the long run.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gustavo sneered, bursting into an evil laugh. “Did you dawgs think you were gonna get to keep this stuff?” 

As he continued his jeering, Carlos witnessed the breaking down of the swirly slide and howled as if he were in immense pain. 

Their boss took no notice of this as he continued, “The little dawgs thought they outsmarted the big dawg.”

Barking came from behind Roxy, causing her to jump and drop a few towels to the floor. Turning around, she observed Gustavo barking in Kendall and James’ faces. 

What a weirdo.

Too exhausted to even pick up her mess, she let the destruction crew whisk the towels away as she stood still and watched the scene unfold around her. The beautiful colored walls were painted over in the same terrible beige color 2-H was and the orange couch was hauled off to be replaced with the old, broken one from before. At one point, she even had to jump over a roll of moving floor as the disgusting stained carpet was rolled back out. With nowhere else to go, the band fell back onto the couch as Roxy took her seat on the brown ground. 

Bosses poised in front of them, the teens had accepted their defeat. 

“I do have to admit,” Gustavo stated, his hands framing his view of the band and their assistant, “We did get some pretty great stuff today. Let’s just hope Fujizaki thinks so tomorrow.”

***

To say the company meeting took forever would be an understatement. 

Each and every branch of Rocque Records had to share their annual stats and budget projections for the upcoming year while the company founder, Fujizaki, snored on a small video screen at the front of the room. The whole time, Roxanne sat next to the band anxiously tapping her heeled Mary Janes on the floor to the beat of her song as the tune filled the room when their commercial finally began to play. One of the best things about the song “Big Time Rush” was how it fit for just about any occasion - plus, the boys had nailed their routine to it, seeing as they had no other songs to worry about at the moment.

Kelly, Gustavo, and Roxy were the only members of Team BTR who seemed to get the ‘business’ dress code which made her even more uncomfortable as she fiddled with the edge of her black skirt and took meeting notes when something managed to capture her interest. Next to them, the boys were dressed in their everyday casual clothing, not even paying attention to the video on the screen. 

Though she hated to admit it, Gustavo was right about getting some great shots on the set yesterday. Even after all the trouble the five had gone through, the boys gave a great performance. The dance routine to “Big Time Rush” spliced together with the personal interviews and product placement served as a wonderful ad for RCM/CBT/GlobalNet/Sanyoid and for the band themselves. 

Hello, international markets.

When the commercial ended, all heads in the room turned to face the company founder on the screen at the other end of the room. It took quite a few moments, but in the end, Fujizaki was able to give his final declaration. 

“I like the boys!”

Cheers broke through all divisions of Rocque Records as Roxy finally breathed a sigh of relief. One more day she didn’t have to worry about losing her job. The teens exchanged hi-fives and, after clear permission, the band crushed their assistant in a giant hug - thanking her for her help in getting the set built in 2-J and another thanks for her song. 

After, she noticed Gustavo had moved in closer to them, black-tinted glasses obscuring his facial expression. Roxy shuffled backward, but still ended up right next to Kendall - in front of the other three band members - as their boss started them down. 

“So…” Kendall accepted the challenge. “We learned a lot here today didn’t we?”

“Yeah, uh,” Their assistant tried to muster up a few words after the sweet encouragement her friends had just given her. “You did some things. We did some things -”

“Ten hours of harmonies! Ten hours of piano practice! No breaks!”

Harmonies were normal for the band, but piano practice?

“Mr. Rocque?” Roxy questioned. “I don’t play the piano.” 

“Oh, is that so?” His voice mimicked a higher, softer tone but it was clear he was being sarcastic. “Well, you do know! Move out!”

The five teens turned and trudged out of the room, heads bowed to the floor, dreading the rest of the day before them. Kelly, for the most part, oversaw harmony practice as she ran around the studio floor doing this and that for Gustavo, who was overseeing Roxy’s piano practice. The man grumbled as he handed the girl a ‘Piano for Beginners’ book saying something about how it would be easier to collaborate on songs if they knew similar instruments. 

Much to their luck, minutes turned to hours. Their hard work had left them no time to even think about how much longer it would take the day to be over until it eventually was. Roxy ran through her mental checklist as they trudged through the lobby of the Palm Woods, hoping she would have enough tea, lemon, and honey to make the boys something to soothe their throats and would have to dig through her first aid kit for some pain killers to soothe her aching hands. 

As much as they wanted to relax by the pool they had learned their lesson the other night so they went straight to 2-J without another thought. Kendall dug out his keys and opened the door, yet as they walked in something about the band’s vibe shifted from gloom to glee. Picking her head up to see what was the matter, she found the interior of their apartment had been renovated once again to fit the original Ultrateen Crib. 

Someone slid down the swirly slide hitting the floor with a thud. 

“Hey!” Katie shouted, throwing her arms in the air.

Mrs. Knight was lounging on the orange couch in front of the entertainment system, waiting for the teens to come home. She gave the trademark Knight family smirk as she held up her hands to show off their new space, “Well, I love what you’ve done with the place.”

Big Time Rush looked at each other in disbelief before running over to the foosball hockey dome in the center of the room. Standing in awe, their assistant ended up simply looking around making sure every detail she noticed earlier was back in place, including the guitars she would most definitely try to steal.  

“Uh,” A deep voice let out behind her, causing her to whip around and see Gustavo and Kelly standing at the entryway to the apartment. All the teens could do was stop and stare at their bosses. “...Good job today.” 

Kelly had a big smile plastered across her face as she clutched her black ledger to her chest. 

“This is awesome!” Kendall blurted, genuinely thankful for the adult’s actions.

Gustavo took his dark sunglasses, “This is a bone.” 

“Come again?” Blinked Logan. 

“I realized today, sort of, that if you really want to train dogs properly, you need to throw them a treat now and then.” The man continued. “So, enjoy your treat. You’re not getting anymore.” 

For once, I’m kinda jealous of these four. 

Apartment 2-H wasn’t as bad as 2-J had been before, but now in comparison, it was a total dump. Safe to say she’d be spending far more time here in the future. The box full of movies in her closet was calling to her, begging to be played over the surround-sound television. 

Kelly checked her notes before adding, “We lost a day of rehearsal because of the shoot, so it’s at the studio, 7:30 am.”

“I’ll get them there!” Roxy squeaked, finding it hard to suppress her own excitement about the renovations. “No problem!”

Stepping up next to her, Carlos lightly placed a gentle hand on her arm as he spoke to the adults, “We promise, no more surprises.” 

A cracking sound came from the pale blue wall by the kitchen. Roxy took one step back as the boys took one step forward allowing herself to hide behind their tall frames. More busting sounds arose as part of the wall came crumbling down, revealing Bitters covered in plaster dust as he fell to the floor. When he finally managed to get himself up after a few seconds of struggle, he noticed the apartment had been slightly tweaked. 

“You’ve altered this room…” He didn’t sound like he was fully in the present. “You’ve completely devastated this apartment!”

Roxy met James’ eyes and the two shared a quick, suppressed laugh. 

Pointing to the older man, Logan turned around to look at his tall friend. “You locked him in the supply closet?”

“No! Bandana Man did.”

“It’s true!” Their assistant said, trying to hold back giggles as she remembered their time together. “I was there, it was Bandana Man. James came and found me after.”

Bitters ignored them. “This is a total lease violation!” His eyes wandered around the room once more. “Man, cool swirly slide,” He pondered another moment. “I want all of you out of here tomorrow!”

The woman next to him opened her ledger, a sadistic smile on her face, “What if I add another grand to your ‘making it happen’ fee?” 

Tearing out a freshly written check, Kelly handed it to the hotel manager. 

“Have a Palm Woods day, everyone. Enjoy your stay.”

What a sleaze she thought as he left the room. Once the door was fully shut, Kelly spoke up once more. “Try not to show him your apartment, Roxy.” 

The girl blinked. 

“My… apartment?” 

The woman nodded and Roxy wasted no time bursting out the door. A million questions filled her mind, and she did her best to push them out as she dug in her bag for her keys. Once she found them, she slid the golden one into the lock and opened the door with a click. 

The first thing catching her eye was the brand new paint job. Instead of her old, beige, chipping paint, the walls had been covered with calming shades of red, blue, and brown - it felt very southwestern. 

Her kitchen had been pushed into the corner wall, new appliances decorating the small space and she noticed that the breakfast bar had been taken away in favor of a small table tucked in the center. Because the kitchen had been shrunk, her living room had much more space and now accommodated a long red couch and a small entertainment system. She was grateful she didn’t need to figure out how the old dial TV worked. 

Across from the living room on the right, her bedroom door was open. While she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of someone being in her room, as long as no one touched the shoeboxes in her closet she was fine. 

The bed, which once sat in the center of the room with the head under one of the windows to the pool, had been pushed into the corner left and lofted, making the once cramped room more open. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to a cherry red electric guitar hanging on the wall above a small keyboard and desk. An amp and all the necessary electrical cords for the instruments were tucked in the corner of the room, under all of her pictures of Minnesota. On the side opposite her bed, she noticed a huge, cherrywood vanity and stool with a large mirror that lit up around the edges, giving the perfect lighting to ensure her makeup would ways be flawless. On the clear surface, a small, sleek micro-laptop sat.

Standing in the middle of the room, spinning around a few times to make sure she noticed every little detail, her emotions overwhelmed her as she let out a happy scream and jumped around her new, perfect room. 

Though she needed to get back to her friends, she walked over and ran her fingers over the new guitar that had been gifted to her. It was everything she had ever dreamed of and she was ecstatic that she didn’t need to save up and buy one anymore. Hooking it into the amp, she strummed a few chords and was shocked by the clarity of the sound. The electric acoustic she had been using previously was dear to her heart, and a wonderful gift from her father, but she always felt that the sound was mildly muffled when she tried to play it on the electric setting. Lazily, she began to play a small riff of an old Nirvana song that she had heard on one of her tapes earlier in the day; it sounded amazing.

Once she was more than satisfied, she was sure to shut off her equipment and unplug it. The guitar was set back on its stand and she silently promised to take very good care of it. 

Exiting her room, she looked over her new entertainment system and something caught her eye. 

Has that door always been there?

Along the shared wall of her apartment, to the left of her new TV, a red door had escaped her previous glance over the room. Roxy walked over to it with an eerie feeling in her chest. When she grabbed the door handle, it zapped her with a bit of electricity from the carpet and when she opened it, she found Big Time Rush on the other side.

“Surprise!” 

Taking a step back, she examined her surroundings and realized the door led to the hallway of their apartment. The girl must’ve had a puzzled look on her face as Carlos started to explain. 

“The other night you said it gets lonely all by yourself! So, we drew a stage door into the plans for the Crib. You can come over any time!” 

“I can just walk to your apartment though…?” She was giving a strained smile, still slightly confused.

Logan backed the helmet wearer, “Yes, but now you can come in when no one’s around in case you need a hockey stick to defend yourself or something. Or if you have a song idea to share you can just run a few steps and find us. Or if you get lonely, we can always hang out!” 

Roxy turned this thought over in her mind, her strained smile slowly turning into a real one. 

“Oh!” Kendall raised his index finger up. “Your side has a lock, so if you don’t want to see us just flip it and we won’t be able to get in.” 

“And we promise to knock before entering,” James said, sounding slightly disappointed about it. 

“You four are very thoughtful…” She trailed off, still slightly confused but not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I’ll be sure to knock as well.” 

Just like if I was at their front door. They’re so dumb. 

Her mind flipped back to their conversation. And their new entertainment system that was way bigger than hers. Not that she was complaining; the new instruments were a very fair trade-off.

“Want to celebrate with a movie night?”

BTR lit up. Carlos began to mumble something about popcorn before running into the kitchen, Logan in tow. 

Kendall smacked his forehead in remembrance of something, “We didn’t bring any DVD’s!” 

“You left the new Fast and Furious at home? I’m going to wring your neck!” James shouted as he landed a punch to his friend’s shoulder. “I’ve been dying to see that!” 

Letting them wrestle for a few seconds too long, Roxy smiled to herself knowing full well any of the movies she had were on the bottom of their watchlist. But it was all they had, so the band was going to have to deal. “I’ve got a few! Let me change into my pajamas and I’ll be over with my top 3.” 

Kendall looked over at her with pouting eyes. “Why do you get to pick?’ 

“Because they’re my movies? And I write the songs that’ll make you famous?” 

No way was he going to argue with that. “Fair enough. See you soon.” 

The door closed and she walked back into her room to retrieve the necessary items. Choosing a cuter pair of pajama bottoms and an old *NSYNC t-shirt she had thrifted back home, she threw it on. It was quite late so she opted to take off her makeup, just in case she fell asleep, and tied her hair up with her new red bandana. Looking at herself in the mirror door in front of the closet, she yawned. 

Taking the stool from under her new vanity, she set it in front of the top shelf in her closet and balanced on it, bringing down the shoe box with her movies. 

Like her taste in music, her taste in movies was immaculate. The box was filled to the brim with her favorite dramas and romcoms as she dug through them in order to find the ones that would bring her the most joy to force the boys to watch. Her decisions were made carefully as she picked ones she was sure they had never seen before. If their typical movie night was something like Fast and Furious that meant they liked action - her least favorite genre. 

This is going to be so much fun.

Three choices in hand, the girl walked over to her new door and knocked before entering. 

Her band was already on the couch, snacks galore on the tables in front of them. They were bickering about what the best couch position was and Carlos was in the process of giving Logan a noogie when she made her way in front of them. 

“Okay, boys, here are your choices. Number one.” 

Roxy held out her copy of Legally Blonde.

“A movie about a hot blonde girl, Elle, who gets into Harvard Law School in order to prove to her ex she’s more than just a pretty face.”

They blinked at her. Time for the next option. 

“10 Things I Hate About You. A modern retelling of Shakesphere’s Taming of the Shrew. Kat’s little sister, Bianca, wants to date but isn’t allowed to until Kat has a boyfriend, so Biana sets Kat up with this super ultra-hot bad boy Patrick even though she swears up and down she’ll never date in her life. Lots of twists and turns, very fun.” 

She let them soak in all that information while she thought about Patrick Verona. The scene where he sings to Kat while she’s at soccer practice nearly made her swoon just thinking about it; Definitely in her top 5 favorite movie moments ever. 

When none of them voted in favor of 10 Things, she held up her third movie. Twilight, the ace in the hole. Not only did the movie contain a thrilling supernatural romance but it had action in it, something the boys would latch onto because the previous movies had none of that. 

“One of the best movies made in my life based off of one of the best books written in my life, Twilight. Bella Swan finds herself locked in the middle of a centuries-old war between the vampires and werewolves of Forks, Washington. Lots of fighting, lots of blood, and lots of pretty actresses.” 

Trying to recapture the boys’ attention as they processed all the information needed to make a decision, she wiggled the movie in her hands.

“Promise this one has action in it?” Carlos beamed.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” She replied. 

“Let’s watch that one then!” 

Turning around, she looked for the DVD player while hiding the grin spreading across her face. 

Before she placed it in the player, a thought popped into her head, causing her to turn back around and point towards Carlos, then the kitchen, “Can you help me grab something off the top shelf really quick?”

Not even giving a verbal response, he hopped up and raced to the kitchen to assist his assistant. Meanwhile, the other three were too preoccupied with reading the back of the DVD to find the real synopsis of the movie. Apparently they thought Roxy was an unreliable summarizer.

Joining her friend in the kitchen, Carlos eagerly looked up at the shelves, “What do you need?”

“Uh, nothing, sorry,” She replied, and when a look of confusion crossed his face, she wrung her hands together nervously. “I actually wanted to thank you for what you said the other day, when you were checking up on me after those guys grabbed me at the pool. That was really thoughtful, and it meant a lot to me. So… thanks!”

Before she even finished speaking, his eyes lit up and a big grin splashed across his face as he took in her words. “Of course, Roxy! You’re always looking out for me, so I’ll always be looking out for you too. That goes for all of us.” 

As they turned back to see their friends, it appeared as though they were trying to figure out what other movies the lead actors had been in.

A “thank you” didn’t feel like enough. 

“Did you know I have three big sisters?” He asked her, turning towards the cabinets and reaching up to grab a large popcorn bowl before pushing it into her hands. It seemed he had decided she needed something after all. 

Shaking her head, the assistant listened as he continued, “You wouldn’t believe how in tune I am with the emotions of teenage girls; I’ve had triple the practice! Now, come on! Movie time!”

Gently grabbing her wrist, he pulled her back over to the couch. 

They’re so going to hate this.

The previews on the disc began to play so Roxy quickly chose her spot on the couch. Apparently, the band had decided that the best seat on the couch was in the lower part of the L-shape it made, directly facing the TV so she picked a seat on the longer part landing her right next to James. 

Surround sound audio enveloped them, bringing great joy to the girl. It felt like they were at the movie theater; the band was even diligently watching the trailers without talking. To say that Roxy had seen this movie a thousand times would be an understatement, so she had already seen all the clips before the movie and without commentary from the guys, she felt her eyelids getting heavy. Leaning back onto one of the pillows, she finally allowed herself some rest after their hectic few days, and boy did it feel good.

--

Happy Big Time Rush Day!! <3

[arctic-hands]

It's been about 2 months so I can finally free myself of the second hand awkwardness of my train ride home from the eclipse

So I get on the train back to the East Coast at around 1 a.m. At roughly 2 p.m an obviously Amish family consisting of two young adults who look way too young to be taking care of this many kids, a teenage girl, three kids who look to be around seven, and two infants.

Hoo boy. This is a sixteen hour train trip that would be stretched to eighteen hours after engine trouble.

Predictably, the two babies did not like being in a rickety train and screamed their heads off periodically for the entire ride. I don't fault the babies for screaming, the ride was quite wobbly and rumbly. I was once a screaming baby too.

Predictably, the three 7ish year olds were running around and climbing everything, even trying to climb into the overhead luggage racks. I can't fault the children for this, as I too was a rambunctious child who liked to climb and jump before my knees turned to shite, and were I not a master of zoning out I too would have been quite bored.

What was not predictable was that the Amish couple did nothing to soothe or calm their kids the entire ride. The teenage girl just ignored everything and read books. The most the parents did was if their babies in their laps got a little too shrieky for THEIR comfort they would put their hands over the baby's mouths to muffle it, which predictably did nothing but make the babies more agitated.

Now I could extend sympathies for these young parents. When I say young, I mean twenty year olds at best. Too young to be taking care of this many kids. But in the seventeen hour time span I spent with these people, about two thirds of it was me wracking my brain for the German words to say "madam, please calm your children", and the other third was me wracking my brains for what I know about the Amish and how to say the words more archaic. At one point the seven year old girl looked behind her seat she was climbing on and just stared at me, but I was too sleep deprived to even say hello in any comprehensive language. And I was wearing a mask so my polite smile didn't show, so she just kept staring at me.

Anyway

At some point some European tourists got in. One was a man who looked to be about ten years older than me. Classic tourist vibe, camera around the neck and everything. Anyway as they were boarding the car the father had left his seat and the mother said something in Pennsylvania Dutch, and the camera tourist's eyes light up.

Ugh. 🫠

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop but I had the misfortune of being across the aisle and one row behind the parents and the screaming babies on their laps so it was inevitable that of course my rusty German skills would suddenly work for the first time in like a decade, enough for me to pick up the guy introducing himself auf Deutsch, and I heard him explain he was from Bornholm and could speak German fluently, how were you?

So I don't know off the top of my head when Pennsylvania Dutch linguistically drifted far away from German or vice versa, p sure it's been at least a century and a half. All I know is I had to contend with hearing a few contrite statements in PD and then some confused questions for clarification by the tourist in German before the two of them just stared at each other for like thirty seconds in complete silence before the Dane smiled politely, said "Tschüs!" and hurried away.

I thought about approaching him to explain what the Amish were and about Pennsylvania Dutch, but a) I was so fucking exhausted, 2) wasn't sure if he knew English and my German skills have degraded from my previously conversational level and I can understand more than I can actually say, and 3) I think everyone who experienced what just happened wanted to melt underneath the train tracks and solidify into flattened pennies.

Anyway this in no way involved me but it was so awkward I had to talk about it in therapy later that week lol. Eventually the family got off the train an hour before I did, perhaps predictably in Pennsylvania, and just about everyone in my train car audibly groaned in relief. The Dane had sat down somewhere behind me and I wasn't rude enough to turn and try to find him, so I have no idea if he was still there and groaning in relief too.

Anyway that sucked lmao

[jala-levi-finding-brother-jax]

The Life of Jax in the Before

In a beautiful home where it stands around with other marvelous houses inside a neighborhood circle.

This house was all but not just beautiful but outstanding of its colors. Dark pink, with purple, and yellow stars around.

Inside the house, a young woman who seems to be putting on her work uniform fast while her little brother, who is only 19, is reading his favorite book lazily on the couch.

"Jax. I am going to be out for tonight. If you need anything, go to the Cantu Family house. I am confident they will help with anything you need." She says while she grabs her purse until she looks at herself in a full-length mirror.

"Something seems to be missing." She says in panic while pointing to each of her clothes and her working hat.

Jax sits up, closing his book, and gets up from the couch, walking to his sister while pulling something out of his overall pocket , turning his sister around, and clipping a very beautiful hairclip. Small 3 little yellow and pink layer cakes with 3 pink stars and a pink tassel hangs with the hairclip.

"Now, sis, don't get too stressful now. I need you to calm down and relax. It is just another work day, and I know how much the hairclip means to you. I am the one who got it for you." Jax says to his sister with a small soft smirk on his face.

She nods softly while breathing in and then out.

"Thank you, Jax, you are growing so fast. Just another year of high school and heads off to college. I am so proud of you." She says softly and hugs her brother softly.

He may be taller than her, but he will always be the little brother she knows. While she is the big sister to him.

"Goodbye Jax, love you." She says to him softly with a smile and kisses his forehead softly. Walking out the front door and closing the door behind her.

Jax stood there and sighs softly.

"Love you too, sis." He whispers and goes back to the long couch and sits down, grabbing his book.

"Little girl says to the bunny man.'Oh hello, Mister Bunny man, why are you looking so stressed today?' The bunny man looked at the little girl and raised an eyebrow. 'I could ask you the same thing, but you are just a normal little girl. But if you want to know. My storyline of how my story is supposed to go is going completely wrong.' Says the bunny man while looking at his clock that is not working." Jax read his book calmly making voices to make them sound like the characters.

1 Hour Later: 7:30 A.M.

Jax is sleeping on the couch as his book is on his face as he snores softly.

Then there was a loud knock on the door, making Jax jolt up fast, having him groan heavily as his book fell onto his lap.

"Coming!" He yells and grabs his book and sets it down neatly to the side and rubs his eyes and stretches his arms and legs, getting up from the couch and walks to the front door.

He peeps through the small glass window door and sees one of his neighbors.

"Hey man, want to go to Universal with me? I am taking Music and Alysa with me." The young man who looks around Jax age says calmly.

Jax blinks and opens the front door, looking at his neighbor.

"Sure, Chuck, let me just reach in my ass and see if I have money for that kind of thing." Jax says sarcastically but not wanting to go if he doesn't have a phone yet to contact with his sister, which Chuck chuckles softly of that.

"Well, not to worry, Jax, I already got the tickets. Also, my sister Alysa already connected your sister if you can come. Your sister says 'Sure he can go with you guys. He needs some air out of the house. Tell him to be safe and that I love him.' So you are good to go. Come on." Chuck says to him calmly with a smile on his face.

Which Jax groans annoyed thinking of course his sister would let him go with the neighbors since they don't have anyone else.

"Fine. Let me just get my wallet at least." Jax says to Chuck calmly, a bit upset, but goes to a small stool table grabbing his square wallet, stuffing it in his overall pocket and walks out the house, and locks the front door.

"Alright! Adventure waits for us!" Chuck yells energetic, wrapping his arm around Jax's neck, leading him to his red truck.

Jax wobbles a bit from the sudden pulling but tries to walk in the same rhythm as Chuck.

Jax opens the passenger door to the red truck and hops on seeing Music and Alysa sleeping in the back of the car seats.

While Chuck hops on the driver seat, putting his seat belt on. Which Jax did the same with putting on his seat belt.

"I woke them up early to be sure they get ready. Since the theme park opens at 9 A.M., which means as we leave now, it is 7:35 A.M. it is a 1 hour and 22 minutes ride. So will be there to a 8:40 if so." Chuck whispers to Jax and starts to drive.

Jax nods and leans on his car seat and relaxes, wondering how his day is going to go.

☆_____________________________________☆

This was a lot of fun to make. But I will be making a part two soon. ^w^

Also, this is what the mysterious Chuck looks like.

Anyway bye.

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink,  Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

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[writemekpop]

Bad Romance (Part 1) | Lee Taeyong

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong wants to fuck you, but you're not ready...

Genre: Angst, Smut, College AU 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Sexual Content, Toxic relationship 

Part 1 ⭐️| Part 2

Taeyong’s breaths were deafening in your ear. Couldn’t he try to control himself? For discretion, at least. You imagined every ear in your university dorm pricking up. Snickering. “I wonder what they’re up to.” 

Taeyong kissed you again, his hot lips colliding with yours.

His hand, ever so slightly rough, pushed up your shirt, sending goosebumps up your ribs. A moan sounded, deep in your throat, and Taeyong groaned in satisfaction. 

You felt instantly guilty. You’d told yourself your ancestors wouldn’t mind if you did this for him. But you’d promised not to enjoy it. 

Taeyong knotted one hand in your hair. You felt the other one slide up to your back to unclasp your bra. His hand dwarfed your back, sending sparks rippling up your shoulder blades. 

“Are you okay with this?” he murmured, voice husky. You nodded. It was a lie.

The truth was, you’d never had sex before. You’d barely even kissed a boy. 

When all your college friends were in the basement snogging boys, you would hover by the doorway, holding their drinks. When they began to tease you, you just pretended you couldn’t hear them. 

Even when everyone started saying you ‘batted for the other team’, it just felt like a relief. Maybe they’d finally leave you alone. 

You were a feminist. You fully believed that women weren’t shiny, unwrapped presents that had to be protected for marriage. But you were also a fake. 

Because the idea of sleeping with a stranger still made you feel sick inside. 

Well, Taeyong wasn’t a stranger; he was your boyfriend. So, you would just have to grit your teeth and get on with it. 

Taeyong’s hand slid down between you. You squeezed your eyes shut. It would be over in a minute; that’s what your friends were always joking about, right? 

Then, you heard the unmistakeable clink of his belt buckle. Suddenly, that was the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard.  

“W-wait,” you croaked. 

You clung onto Taeyong’s firm wrist. 

He was breathing hard, his pulse pounding under his papery-thin skin. You were sat on his lap – so you could feel how ready he was, and it frightened you. 

He would hate you for what you were about to say, you knew that. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

You rolled away from him, pulling your knees up and hugging them. Burying your wet eyes in your knees, you waited for Taeyong to leave. 

But you didn’t feel him get off the bed. 

Instead, there was absolute silence. A shiver ran down your spine. 

Then, his muscled arms were wrapping around you. Taeyong eased you till you were lying on the bed – fear closed in your throat – but he wasn’t trying to have sex with you. Instead, he helped you pull your T-shirt back on, and guided you so your head was resting on his chest.

You felt his thundering heartbeat slow to a steady, comforting pulse.

Taeyong pressed a kiss on your temple. For a second, your stomach curled; it was so fatherly. You mentally scolded yourself. Taeyong wasn’t like other guys. He was caring, and sensitive, and you should be grateful.  

“If you wanna go slow, let’s go slow. You’ll always be my girl,” Taeyong whispered.

So, you pushed down the niggling feeling that ‘always’ had an expiry date. It was time you learnt to trust someone, and Taeyong was the perfect person to let in.

---

Over the next few months, you tried your best to forget about that night. And it was easy enough – Taeyong was electrifying. 

You’d never met a man who could tell a Basquiat from a Banksy and didn’t even show off about it. 

Each night, after lectures, you’d sneak off to some gallery late opening, and take photos of each other for Instagram. 

Or, you’d just snuggle up in his dorm room and listen to him telling you all about his Art History course, or his dreams of starting his own gallery. 

You rarely spoke. You preferred to soak in his world, like a cat curled in the sun. And let’s face it – who wanted to talk about Maths, anyway? 

Taeyong was like a shooting star: totally uncontrollable, impossible to understand, yet hopelessly fascinating. You couldn’t believe why someone like him seemed to find you interesting. Or at least, worth spending every day with.  

---

The second time Taeyong scared you was a Saturday.

You were sitting in his lap, poring over one of his Art History books. Other than toying with a curl of your hair, or pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Taeyong was totally still.  

Sighing with pleasure, you flicked through the glossy pages – for the hundredth time. No wonder Taeyong would always say: If I wasn’t rubbish at Maths, we should’ve swapped courses.

Just then, you prised open a page you hadn’t seen before. You frowned. 

It was a scan of an old Japanese painting. In it, a wealthy couple were captured in a furious argument with a young woman, carrying a baby. It was entitled ‘Outside Wife’. 

You turned to Taeyong, finger on the title. “What’s that?” 

Taeyong lifted the book from your hands, then grinned. “It’s when a noble couple are forced to get married, but the man has another wife to, you know, satisfy his needs.” Taeyong chuckled dryly. “Unfortunately, that system isn’t available anymore.” 

You began to chuckle too… then your smile melted from your face. “What do you mean, unfortunately?” Goosebumps rippled over your skin. 

“Ah… it was just a joke. You know, we’re not exactly getting any.” Taeyong’s body still felt relaxed under you, but your muscles were tensing. 

“I thought you said you wanted to go slow…” you mumbled. 

Of course. You should’ve seen this coming. 

There was only so long a person could go without their needs fulfilled. And here you were, dragging your boyfriend down while he could sleep with any normal girl whenever he wanted. 

“I’m not ready yet, Taeyong.” You picked at the frayed wool of your jumper. 

Your throat closed as you prepared for what you would say next. “If you… need to sleep with someone else, I won’t blame you,” you whispered. Stupid, babyish tears were filling your eyes already. 

“Babe – it was just a joke! No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Taeyong laughed, and kissed your neck. 

When you still didn’t make a sound a moment later, Taeyong turned you around on his lap so you were facing him. Tears streaked freely down your cheeks – you couldn’t hide them. 

“Oh, baby….” Soft as a whisper, Taeyong placed his palm on your cheek and smoothed away the tears with his thumb. “I don’t care about your… problem. You’re my girlfriend, and what’s good enough for you’s good enough for me.” 

A small part of you hurt at the way he said problem, but you pushed that part away. You allowed him a small smile. 

Laughing, Taeyong pulled you into a bear hug. You’d never gripped his shoulder so tight. You were so lucky to have him. 

----

A few weeks later, Taeyong finally convinced you to accompany him to a house party. You knew what this meant. You’d been dating for four months – this was the ‘meeting his friends’ moment. 

All the time you were getting ready, your stomach had transformed into a pit of snakes. Excitement, anxiety, fear – they all wriggled and knotted about inside you. 

You chose a midnight-blue playsuit, in a glimmering velvet. When Taeyong pointed it out to you in the shop, you knew this what you’d be wearing. 

To be honest, you hated Taeyong’s friends. You were pretty sure Taeil had tried to sneak vodka into your coke, and Mark did nothing but yap on endlessly about his girlfriend in Canada. You were almost 100% sure she didn’t exist. 

But as soon as Taeyong’s mahogany eyes met yours across in the heaving living room, all your worries melted away like snow. All he had to do was raise one deep eyebrow, or pull his plump lips into a silly face, and you’d burst out laughing. 

Except, as the hours drew by, you realised you hadn’t seen Taeyong in a while. You were perched on the stairs, shivering next to everyone who was too zoned out to take part. 

“Taeyong?” 

Tip-toeing, you climbed up the stairs, calling his name. You pushed open each of the doors in the hallway, peeking through your fingers just in case anything funny was going on. 

But they were all empty. 

Just as you turned around to go back downstairs, you heard voices coming from the attic. Gingerly, you sneaked up. They grew louder, more defined. 

Pushing open the door just a crack, you heard:

“Really? My god.” 

Your heart jumped. You knew that rich, resounding tone better than your own voice. It was Taeyong. 

You considered climbing up to join them. But then, you heard something that stopped you in your tracks. 

“And the worst thing is, Irene thinks she’s some kind of sex goddess, but actually she’s awful. She just lies there like a limp doll, expecting me to do everything.” It was Doyoung speaking. 

There was a pause as they all laughed. 

Your heart was already twisting. Something about his tone felt… wrong. Like his girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate what he was saying. 

Then, you heard Taeyong say, “Mate, at least your girlfriend’s fucking you, even if she is awful at it. I haven’t got any for months!” 

Everyone in the group exclaimed in disbelief. You forgot how to breathe. 

“Yeah – I know. Y/n thinks she’s some kind of saint for “waiting for the perfect moment”. I mean, a guy’s got needs!” Taeyong’s voice was low, but to you he could have been screaming. 

Black spots were engulfing your vision. Gulping, you staggered backwards, out of the door. You didn’t want to hear what you heard next. You really didn’t want to.  

But you couldn’t help it. Not when Taeyong said, “You know, I don’t even feel bad about fucking Joy. I mean, I had no choice. If Y/n wasn’t so frigid, I wouldn’t need to. It’s her fault really.” 

That was it. 

You sprinted away. Pushing through the line of partygoers waiting to use the bathroom, you locked yourself inside.

Then, you curled up on the toilet seat and sobbed. 

It had finally happened. 

Your gorgeous boyfriend had finally realised that he was miles out of your league. He didn’t deserve the defect. He didn’t deserve the fake feminist who was too ashamed to admit how sexist she really was. 

Then, a thought entered your mind that make you perk up. 

Maybe you could pretend you’d never overheard Taeyong. Maybe you could go back to how you were before… Or maybe you could sleep with him and make him forget about all other girls. 

After all, you’d do anything to keep him. 

Anything.  

Read Part 2 here.

---

MASTERLIST

[scuttling]

Head Over Feet - Chapter 3

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Spencer Reid/Female Reader (Unrequited) Word Count: 4,597 Chapters: 3/? WIP (I think 4 but you know me!) Tags: 18+, NSFW, Unrequited love, Protected sex, Oral sex, Vaginal fingering, Rough sex, Friends with benefits, Praise kink, Daddy kink Summary: Falling in love with one of your two closest friends was never something you planned; it only makes sense that falling in love with the other would also come as a complete surprise. *Inspired by/in collaboration with @ssamorganhotchner. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Link to AO3 or read chapter 3 below! You make it to Aaron’s just a couple minutes after he does; he’s removed his jacket, shoes, and gun, and his collar is unbuttoned, tie loosened but not untied. You wrap your fingers in it the moment you see him, work open the knot, and he leans in to kiss you, guides you fully inside so he can close the door behind you.

You pull his tie off, unbutton his shirt, unclasp his belt, kissing all the while—deep, eager, breathless kisses; when you have no choice but to pull back for air, you’re both panting, fingers still working to get you out of your clothes.

“How was your day? Good?” he asks, chest heaving as he pulls your sweater over your head, and you nod, wet your lips.

“Good, yeah. Yours?” He nods too.

“Good.”

“That’s good.” You surge up for a kiss, unbutton his pants and untuck his shirt, pull it off and drop it onto the floor. His hands find your waist and he maneuvers you through the living room, toward the sofa; you pause, press a hand against it, lift your leg to unzip one boot, then the other, and kick them off and under the coffee table.

He guides you to his bedroom—you’re walking backward, and it’s almost as if he drags you, his hands holding you tightly, long legs leading the way. You trip, tip-toe your way there, know he’d never let you stumble or fall, and when you stop at the foot of the bed you reach down, pull down his zipper, push his pants to the floor. He takes your face in his hands, meets you for a hot, messy kiss, and then you pull his undershirt over his head, quickly wiggle out of your jeans.

“You are so gorgeous,” he breathes, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling you in for another deep, wet kiss. He tilts his head the other way, nose against your cheek, tongue in your mouth, gripping you hard, and you moan into the kiss; you’re a little surprised at how that simple gesture, the hand on the nape of your neck, makes you feel wild and out of control. “Hmm. Do you like that?” he asks softly in your ear, squeezing his fingers, and you lick your lips, nod.

“Yeah. You can be a little rough; I like rough.” He pulls back to make eye contact, holds your gaze for a moment, and then unhooks your bra with the hand not on your neck, guides it off. Still looking into your eyes—your breath comes quick from arousal, not exertion—he slides your panties down, and then he moves both hands to your ass, lifts you up, and deposits you on the bed; you’re sitting up, but he pushes your arms so you’ll lay flat, holds you there a moment, and you moan again. Jesus.

“Can I eat your pussy?” he asks, low, leaning in to mouth at your throat, and you grip his shoulders, gasping softly when he nips at your neck.

“Fuck. Yes.” He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, kneels on the ground, and opens your thighs with strong hands, licks over you slowly with a flat tongue. “Mmm. Oh my god.”

Broad swipes turn to targeted slips of tongue between your lips, quick flicks over your clit, and when he presses closer you run your hand fondly over his head, grip his hair roughly at the roots. He groans against your skin, sucks hard at your clit, and brings his hands up to squeeze your breasts, and you can’t help rocking up against his face, whining and moaning and begging for release.

“Please, Aaron. I want to come for you.” He looks up at you, gliding his mouth over your soaked folds, and takes back a hand, slides one finger inside you and then curls his tongue around it. “Oh, yes, please. Yes.” Another thick finger pushes in, presses up, pumps quickly, and you tense, arch off the bed, a string of whimpers falling from your lips as you come.

“So good, sweetheart,” he breathes, and he lifts you and guides you up the bed, so your head rests against the pillows. Your chest is heaving, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, and he lays on top of you, moves his mouth to yours, gets you to open it for a soft, wet kiss. “Suck my fingers, baby.” He presses them into your mouth, and you hold his hand, suck them hard and messy until he pulls them out, kisses you again. “I’m going to get a condom, I’ll be right back. Just a second.” You nod, let your head fall lazily back against the pillows, and he comes back, pushes his boxers down, and climbs over you.

“Let me?” He hands you the packet, watches you carefully tear it open, slip it over him, and you run your hands along his body, lean up for kisses until he guides you back and opens your legs wider with his knees.

The second he’s inside you, you both grab at each other, your hands on his back and one of his on your face while the other presses against the bed for support. He fucks harder, faster than the first time, and you eagerly match his pace, slide your hands down to dig your fingertips into his ass.

“Oh, fuck. Aaron,” you pant, and he brushes his fingers over your lips, then moves that hand to the bed as well, so he can press deeper. You hitch your legs up high, squeeze them against his hips, hold on to his ass as he fills you so completely it’s almost too much. “Yeah, fuck me. Oh, god.”

“Yeah, just like that. There’s my good girl.” You whimper, and he pounds his hips against yours, lowers himself down to his elbows and slips an arm behind your shoulders, holds you close like an embrace, kisses you breathless.

It doesn’t take long for you to come, not with his body pressed to yours, his mouth on yours, his cock so thick and so deep inside you; you mumble his name, Aaron and Hotch like your brain can’t keep up, and then he comes too, brings a hand to your cheek and just stares into your eyes while he frantically thrusts, then slows, then stops.

You sigh, bring your hands up, one on his wrist where he cradles your face, the other brushing through his hair; he shifts off of you, to the side, but you just hold each other for a moment, catching your breath, kissing softly.

Eventually he leaves to dispose of the condom, comes back and pulls you against his chest; you slip your legs between his, run your hand up and down his arm.

“So what did he do?” he asks after a couple of minutes, his voice a little rough, and you tilt your head to look up at him.

“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact.

“What did Reid do? To get you so worked up?” You feel a hot rush of shame, press your cheek against his chest because you can’t bear to look at him.

“He said he loves her. That he’s waiting for the right moment to tell her.” He hums, just a thoughtful sound, no judgement, and you shift up, rest a hand on his cheek so he’ll look at you. Your own idiocy aside, he needs to see you say this. “But I thought about you all day. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, and that had nothing to do with him—nothing.” He looks you over like he can’t decide if you’re just saying it, or if it’s true, and you brush your lips softly over his, put as much feeling as you can into the gentle touch.

He closes his eyes, exhales, brings you close for another series of tender kisses, then punctuates them with a press of lips to your forehead.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asks, and then he smiles softly, and you kiss him again and dangle over the edge of the bed, grab your phone out of your pocket, and cuddle close to look over some menus.

You opt for Lebanese, eat way too much baba ganoush, and lay your head on his lap and read while he watches the news. About a month later, you wake up at Aaron’s after yet another night spent in his bed—your twelfth consecutive night together at one of your apartments. You leave early, head home to shower and change, only grumbling a little about how you won’t have time to stop for coffee; when you get to the office, there’s a coffee cup with a stopper in it sitting on your desk, and you smile, pluck the stopper out and take a sip. It’s a perfect latte, still piping hot, and it makes your chest warm in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature.

“Secret admirer?” JJ asks, walking down from her office. “I saw it there when I came in but didn’t see who left it.”

“It was just Hotch,” you say, but just Hotch doesn’t really mean what it used to. He’s been your friend for a while, that’s not a secret, even though your friends with benefits thing kind of is—you don’t actively hide anything from anyone, but neither of you have felt the need to clue anyone in—but you can feel yourself becoming a little more… possessive, of him. It’s ridiculous: just because you’re sleeping with him doesn’t mean he’s yours, or that he owes you anything, you know that, but you’re more aware than ever of when someone pays a little too much attention to him.

It’s painfully obvious when you are in Charlotte later that week, working out of the FBI field office there; it’s your second day on the case, and one of the agents assisting you flirts with him in the breakroom. Openly.

“The coffee here is horrible,” she begins, standing next to him at the coffee maker as he waits for a fresh pot. You came in for a refill too, but he beat you to it, and then she showed up and squirmed her way in between you as if you weren’t literally in the middle of a conversation. “If you want, I can take you to my favorite cafe across the street. They grind the beans every half hour, so it’s always very fresh.” She’s turned toward Aaron, can’t see you, so you roll your eyes; he catches it, tries to hide a smile, but the agent thinks it’s for her. “Is that a yes, Agent Hotchner?” She lays a hand on his arm, but he clears his throat and he takes a half step back, politely and effectively removing it.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m spoken for.” The woman turns to look at you—she’s clearly unhappy about being turned down, more so since you’re standing just inches away—and you smile your polite, fake, public servant smile until she takes the hint and leaves the break room. You move closer to Aaron like you were before she arrived, your arms crossed in irritation, and he pours you a cup of coffee, hands it to you, leans in to whisper in your ear. “Play nice, kitty.”

His words send heat throughout your body, and when he pulls back you just stare at him for a second. If you weren’t so exposed, you’d put down the coffee, grab him by his tie, and kiss him until you’re both stupid, but there are agents walking back and forth past the windows, the open door, so all you can do is look at him. You make it count, make sure to tell him with your eyes that you cannot wait to get him to get him naked; it must be effective, because he wets his lips, flicks his gaze over your body. It’s only when someone clears their throat in the doorway that you look away from each other, and even then it takes a moment.

“Hey you two,” Emily says, hands on the doorframe. “We’ve got a witness that just came forward, Morgan’s going to take him into interrogation now. You probably want to come see this.” Naturally, the witness only further complicates your investigation; you’re all glad your killer takes his time choosing a new victim, because it buys you a little more time, and you have a solid profile by the next morning. You split up to canvass the neighborhoods, to go door to door asking if anyone knows a man who fits your profile—you’re partnered with Spencer, who seems more anxious than usual, and that’s kind of saying something.

“Are you doing alright?” you ask him as you walk up to a red brick house, knock on the front door. He presses his lips together, nods, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” You look over at him, raise an eyebrow, and he rocks a little on his heels. “You’ve cancelled the last couple of movie nights; we haven’t spoken much.” You knock on the door again, but there’s still no answer.

“I’ve been busy; you’ve been busy too, you know how it is.” You gesture to the next house, pull out your phone to jot down this house number so you don’t forget it and head down the sidewalk. “How are things with Chelsea?” He hums noncommittally, and you shove him lightly with your shoulder. “Come on, it’s okay. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.” It hasn’t been exactly easy, the last month—hearing how close the two of them have grown, how he told her he loves her and she said it back, how he has a drawer at her apartment—but it’s been easier. (Aaron doesn’t have a drawer at yours, you think absently, hasn’t asked for one, but you figure that’s by design; it’s a good reminder of what your relationship is, and isn’t.)

“They’re good. She gets a little frustrated when I’m gone for a while, when I have to cancel plans.”

“Most people are like that; they don’t live the life, so they don’t really get it. That’s normal,” you assure him. You’re a little surprised that it comes so easily, just like it would have before your big confession. He takes the lead this time, opens the screen door of a light blue bungalow and knocks three times.

“Is that how your… boyfriend is?” You bring your hand up to your face like a visor, peer in through the small windows on either side of the door, avoid eye contact.

“He understands,” is all you say. It’s too complicated to try to explain your relationship with Aaron, and you’re both comfortable with how it is now, not exactly secret but not exactly public; you don’t want to jeopardize it any way. “And she might, too, eventually. Just give it time.” You pull back, smile softly. “Looks like no one’s home. Why did we decide to canvass at one o’clock on a Wednesday?” Spencer shrugs.

“Because Hotch said.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m going to text that dummy; you drive.” You hand him the keys, slide into your seat and buckle up, then tug your phone out of your pocket.

Canvassing was a bust—no one’s home. Whose bright idea was that again?

Excuse me? You grin, look out the window so Spencer won’t see it.

I think you may be getting past your prime. Time for a younger man to take your place?

You better watch your mouth, baby.

Or what, daddy?

You send it before you even realize what you said; it just sort of came out. The next several minutes pass by agonizingly slowly, and you’re about to send a panicked text, either backtracking or trying to play it off as a joke, when he replies.

You’ll just have to wait and see. Come back to the office. I’ll give you new instructions.

On the way.

Good girl. You almost whimper. He knows how those words affect you—torrential downpour in your panties—and he knows you’re in the car with Spencer. He’s playing a very naughty game, one you desperately want to participate in. You start to type...

“What did he say?” ...and then you drop your phone on your foot, turn to Spencer with a questioning frown.

“Hmm?”

“What did Hotch say? When you told him we didn’t have any luck.” You reach down to pick up your phone, and your seat belt tightens, restricting your movement. You huff, sit back in your seat.

“Uh. He said to head back to the office and he’d figure out something for us to do.” Spencer nods, and you blow out a breath, lean your head against the headrest and close your eyes.

Thankfully, the ride back to the office is short, and the two of you head for the room the team is set up in. Aaron stands when you enter, gives you a brief once over, and then rattles off new details the other groups have learned, gives you new assignments. Spencer leaves to meet up with JJ and Derek, but you hang back when Aaron softly says your name.

“Your text,” he begins carefully, and you take a deep breath. “What you called me. Is it okay if we continue that?”

“Yeah, it’s okay with me; more than. Is it okay with you?” He nods, moves a little closer; he glances up, like he’s looking toward the door behind you, then slides his hand to cover the back of your neck, squeezes it.

“It’s okay with me; more than. Be careful,” he murmurs, and then he releases you and you swallow hard, get back to your assignments.

The unsub is tracked, cornered, captured by nightfall, and you fly home despite the late hour. Everyone grumbles on the flight, about wanting to sleep in their own beds, or take a hot shower with better water pressure, but all you can think of is taking off Aaron’s clothes, maybe getting on your knees for him.

When you get back to the parking garage, you head for your car, but Aaron stops you with a hand on your arm. “Just come with me,” he says—he’s not asking, and you’re not about to argue. If anyone finds it strange that you leave with him, they don’t mention it, don’t even throw you a second glance.

You try to behave on the drive back to your place, but it’s so difficult. You squeeze his thighs when he comes to a stop at traffic lights, loosen his tie, run your fingers through his hair; he is just as turned on as you are, which is saying something, considering you’ve been nearly constantly horny since he called you kitty yesterday. He parks in your designated spot, turns off the car, and you release your seat belt, all but pounce on him. You push your hand past the open collar of his shirt, kiss his throat, curl your tongue around his ear, and he puts his hands on your face, kisses your mouth hard, then pulls you back.

“Inside; I need to fuck you.”

Yeah, you’re not going to argue with that either.

You get out of the car, try to help him with your bags, though he won’t let you; you fumble with the keys in the locks, you’re that turned on, but once you get upstairs, get the door to your apartment open, you’re both desperate again, pulling each other’s clothing off, kissing rough and deep. Shoes, socks, pants, and underwear are the first things to go, quickly removed, leaving you in a t-shirt and bra; you take Aaron’s dress shirt off, get him down to just the undershirt, but when you work your hands up his body he kisses you breathless, takes a step back.

“Stay there, right there; just like that,” he rasps, and you don’t move, just wait for him to walk to your bedroom, grab a condom, stand in front of you again. He says nothing, just looks you over, your heaving chest, wide eyes, spit slicked lips, and he rolls the condom on, walks you back against the wall; you gasp when you’re pressed against it, and he leans in, kisses your neck, nips at your jaw.

You moan softly, tip your head so he can reach more of your throat; one of his big hands comes down to rest on your pussy, rubbing easily, and then he pushes two fingers inside like it’s nothing. You’re already ready, so ready, and you wrap a hand around the back of his head, scratch over his scalp, whimper while he pumps his fingers a few more times before withdrawing them.

He wipes his fingers on his shirt, gets his hands under your thighs, and boosts you up, back against the wall, legs on either side of his waist. “Aaron, fuck,” you gasp, pushing up his shirt and wrapping your arms around his back, and he presses inside you, leans in for a messy, eager kiss and groans against your mouth.

“Hold on tight, kitten; I’m going to be rough,” he pants, lips hovering over yours, and you grip him, digging in with your nails. They aren’t long, or very sharp, but he loves when they scrape down his back as he fucks you into the mattress; you can’t imagine this will be any different. “That’s it; just let me use you, okay?”

“Okay, daddy,” you breathe, and he starts thrusting, pinning you up against the wall. You can feel his muscles flex beneath your hands, and he kisses and bites at your throat as his hips pump against yours; it’s almost overwhelming, and you’d close your eyes if he didn’t look so incredibly sexy, determined, slamming his cock into you, banging your body against the wall. “Oh, fuck.”

“Take it all like a good girl, like daddy’s good girl,” he says, eyes on yours, and he lifts one of your legs, swings it over his forearm so you’re spread further, so he can pound deeper inside you. All you can do is clutch him, try your best to bounce into his thrusts, and moan, and when he comes you move a hand to his hair, grab it roughly, grind down against him. “Oh, that’s it. God.” He tips his head back, exhales long and slow, and you lick your lips, keep moving until he tells you to stop.

He sets you on your feet, pulls out carefully and throws the condom in the trash, then crowds you up against the wall, wraps his hand around the back of your neck, kisses you deep and dirty and messy, lots of tongue and the occasional rough press of his teeth against your bottom lip. He pulls back, looks down at you, squeezes your neck, and you whimper.

“Daddy?”

“What is it?” You squirm a little; there’s no way he forgot, didn’t realize you didn’t get off. He’s always been very attentive, very good at making sure you’re satisfied. You wet your lips.

“I want to come.” He hums, takes his other hand and rubs it over your pussy, and you buck forward, whimper again.

“Can you think of a better way to ask for that, baby?” You move your hands over his back again, beneath his shirt, look up at him with soft, sensitive eyes.

“Can I please come, please?” It takes a moment, but he nods, moves his fingers to your clit and rubs them quickly, so quickly it’s dizzying. You moan, cling to him, and he leans close, presses his forehead to yours, looks down at you while he takes you apart with just his fingertips. “Oh, yes. Oh, fuck.”

“You like that, kitten? Then come for me.” You want to, so badly, you murmur it into the space between your mouths; when you finally climax, you whine, hold on to him, nearly go weak in the knees, and he lifts you up again and carries you to the bedroom, lays you gently back on the bed.

He moves toward you, and you curl yourself around him, hold him close; you wind up on your sides, one of your legs between his and the other slung over his waist, and he murmurs praise into your ear, pretty and perfect and so sweet and good. You pull his shirt over his head, and he removes yours, your bra, and you just lay there and hold each other, kiss, content.

Kissing turns to nibbling your throat again, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders, press a hand against his chest, moan softly while he mouths at your sensitive skin. Your hips move, you can’t help it, and then he’s hard against you, and you all but beg him to push inside.

“We’re good, I’m good,” you breathe, because you didn’t think to grab a condom and you don’t want to separate now, not when the moment is so thick and heavy and sultry, when you are well and truly wrapped up in each other. “I’m haven’t had sex with anyone else; have you?”

“No, it's just you. It’s just you.” He weaves a hand into your hair, pulls you closer for deep, slow kisses, and presses into you; his free hand resets on your hip, splays across it, broad and warm, and you rock together, kissing and panting, your hands moving over skin, clinging desperately to each other in a way that is so different but just as passionate as before.

“Aaron.” He pulls back, looks at you, squeezes your thigh, and says your name; he repeats it while you come, and you repeat his as he kisses your throat, hugs you close, and eventually spills inside you.

“You’re so incredible,” he says with a soft kiss, and you pull him closer, hug him tightly with your whole body, kiss his hair.

“You’re perfect. Addicting,” you say with a soft laugh, and he smiles, catches your mouth in a kiss.

You don’t want to separate any more than you did before, but you have to use the bathroom, and you could both use some water, so you get cleaned up together and then you stay in the bathroom while he heads for the kitchen. You throw on your robe, meet him out there, drink the better part of his glass of water; a knock on the door startles you both, and he walks over to where his clothes lay on the floor, pulls on his boxers.

“Who could that be this late?” he asks, and you shrug; you certainly weren’t expecting anyone at this hour, and definitely not with Aaron here. You walk toward the door, look out the peephole, take a deep breath and turn back to face him.

“It’s Spencer.”

“I’ll go in the bedroom,” he says, and you frown, but nod, give him one more kiss before he goes. You unlock the door and swing it open slightly, take in Spencer’s disheveled appearance, his teary eyes.

“Hey, what’s going on? It’s late.” He sighs, runs a hand through his hair.

“Chelsea broke up with me. We were supposed to go to a gallery opening for her friend tonight, and I missed it because we got back so late. She was upset, and we both said things, and she broke it off.” He moves forward, and you take a step back, which brings you both inside the apartment. He swallows, leans in and wraps his arms around you. “I didn’t know where else to go.” Taglist 🤍: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream @unicornprancing

[yslkook]

RAINBERRY (6)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you share a series of moments with jungkook, come to several realizations about sora. things shift...for the better or for worse? pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship, suggestive content (hooking up)

word count: 7305... yeah idk what happened lmao

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz

***

“You come here often?” A voice behind you murmurs in your ear. You nearly jump, but you already know who it is.

Jungkook. Ever since he had texted you letting you know that he was on his way, you’d been eagerly looking for him in the crowded, dim lights of the bar.

“No,” You say, unable to stop a giggle from pushing past your lips.

“Lucky for me then, huh?” Jungkook grins, his smile a little dark and a little seductive. It sends a thrill up your spine.

“It is,” You nod, “Really lucky for you. And for me-”

You internally cringe at yourself. Did you learn to flirt only yesterday? Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you in amusement before letting his hand rest on your lower back.

“C’mon, pretty, I’ll get you a drink,” Jungkook says, “Maybe then you’ll pick up a trick or two on the subject of flirting.”

You gasp and swat his chest, “Don’t be so rude.”

Jungkook stands in between your legs at the bar, one hand on your thigh and one hand gripping his drink. You’re laughing at something he said in your ear, something funny that happened at the tattoo parlor earlier in the day-

“Mina and Mei pretended to be the other to see how long it would take for Jin to notice, since he can never tell them apart-”

“You’re all terrible, and poor Jin, you always instigate with him!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jungkook nearly pouts at you.

“Oh? Why’s that? Maybe I like Jin more than I like you,” You reply, leaning closer to him.

“But you still like me, right?” Jungkook says, discreetly weaving his fingers through yours. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but even if someone was, you wouldn’t mind.

Or so you thought nobody was paying attention to either of you.

“Mmm… maybe a little bit,” You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Tell me how cool and pretty you think I am, and then I’ll decide.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. His bright, bunny smile makes you smile. “You already know how cool and pretty I think you are, baby.”

“You could stand to mention it a little more.”

“And what about me?” Jungkook says, leaning forward, “You never compliment me, baby…”

“That’s- that’s not true,” You whisper. He’s close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes, the ridges on his plump, pouty bottom lip, the mole below his lip.

“But I guess you don’t need to, not really,” Jungkook says airily, “Not when I can tell that you think about me. Because my girl’s dirty, huh?”

You squeeze his lithe fingers tightly and he smiles at you, sin painted in the curves of his wicked grin.

“Uh-” You stammer, your face feeling hot, “You’re really cute?”

He throws his head back once more and you grin bashfully at him. “And I like spending time with you,” You say softly, looking up at him as if you want him to hang the moon for you.

Jungkook curses under his breath. Because he would, he really would.

“How lucky for me,” Jungkook says, patting your head fondly.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes.

Before the night ends (and you endure the teasing of Mina and Mei), you manage to convince Jungkook into taking pictures with you. Mina is all too happy to take them. You don’t know how many candids she takes of you both- you get lost in his voice and the glint in his eyes.

And then he abruptly kisses your cheek, and your breath hitches with the feel of his lips against your skin leaving your heart sputtering helplessly in your chest.

Mei and Mina are both cooing in the background at their favorite couple who isn’t quite a couple just yet. Jungkook glares at both of them, only causing them both to laugh.

And then the moment is ruined by none other than Sora herself. Jungkook sighs, already knowing that you’re going to be pulled away from him. He doesn’t know why she’s even here when nobody here likes or knows her except for you. But you’re too nice to leave her out of things (mainly because you don’t want her to get upset at you for it). So Jungkook says nothing, only narrowing his eyes at her when she comes close.

She eyes his arm around your waist and how close you’re standing to him suspiciously.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sora groans, clutching her stomach. How dramatic, Jungkook scoffs. As if she’s never handled alcohol before. Jungkook looks for the blurriness that comes with alcohol in her eyes and is unsurprised to find nothing.

But perhaps his dislike for her is outweighing reality.

“Door’s right there,” Jungkook says bluntly, “And the bathroom's over there. Knock yourself out.”

He tightens his hand over your waist, ignoring your gentle swat of your hand against his chest.

“Can we go home?” Sora pouts at you, but not before sending Jungkook a glare. Jungkook already knows you’re nodding- it seems that Sora always gets what she wants.

He knows she’s faking it, and you’re too nice to see through her bullshit.

Well, Jungkook gets what he wants, too.

“I can take you both home?” Jungkook says, though the thought of being within five feet of her sends him recoiling.

“No! We can get home ourselves,” Sora nearly hisses.

“What about when she drops you off at your apartment? You gonna let her walk home alone?” Jungkook scoffs.

“She doesn’t live that far, and she can take care of herself. Or she can sleepover,” Sora answers heatedly, as if you’re not right there.

“She is right here. And I’m not sleeping over, I have an early morning tomorrow,” You say easily, feeling annoyance beginning to stir in your belly. It’s a lie, but Sora doesn’t need to know that. “Go wait at the door, Sora. I’ll be there in a minute.”

And for once, Sora listens to you.

“Jungkook,” You murmur with heated cheeks, “Maybe I can see you later tonight?”

Jungkook laughs in surprise. His girl isn’t just flirty and touchy, you’re a liar. And you’re a liar for him.

“Sure baby, whatever you want. Just please text me when you get home. Or call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Jungkook says, returning your tipsy smile. He wants to glare in Sora’s direction but refrains from doing so.

He can hear both Mira and Mei both giggling into their hands a few feet away, but you don’t seem to hear it. You don’t seem to hear anything but him.

“Okay,” You beam at him, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you get Sora in the safe hands of her roommates and tucked into bed with a glass of water, it’s nearly 1:30 AM.

“Promise me somethin’,” She says, her eyes half awake. But you can tell she’s alert and aware.

“Hmm?” You say distractedly, about to text Jungkook telling him you’re going home soon.

“You need to stay away from Jeon,” She mumbles, watching you like a hawk, “He’s not a good guy-”

“I think you’re tired, Sora,” You say, not meeting her gaze, “I’m pretty tired, too. So ‘m gonna go home. Sleep well.”

“I mean it, he’ll break your heart, you know. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sleep well,” You whisper easily, levelling her with an intense gaze. She feels herself being scrutinized as if she’s under a microscope, but the heat dissipates quickly as you turn on your heel.

Lying to her comes so easily, even with your heart pounding painfully in your ears. But you know that’s not Jungkook’s influence on you, as she might claim. Jungkook has never been a liar- apparently that’s reserved only for you.

Jungkook is only a few blocks away from Sora’s apartment building so you remain on the phone with him, giggling quietly, as you meet him halfway. He covers more ground quicker than you so he catches up to you quickly.

“Hi,” You laugh wildly, not sure what you’re even laughing at. You’re giddy just from the sight of him and you shyly take his hand in yours. He looks at you in surprise but says nothing, only rubbing your thumb with his own.

“Hey, baby,” He says smoothly. You only beam at him in response to how he is apparently unaffected by you. It’s so easy for you to push Sora’s words from your mind, when Jungkook is standing right by your side looking at you like that.

“I live kind of far from here,” You confess, “It’s like a fifteen or twenty minute drive.”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, pulling his phone out for an Uber. “I hate that you Uber home alone so often from here,” Jungkook says, “Don’t do that anymore. You’ve heard the stories right?”

“Yeah, I have,” You shrug, “I don’t really know who else I can call all the way from here-”

“Me,” Jungkook says sharply, “Yoongi. Hobi. Jin. Mei. Mina. Any of us, baby. Fuckin’ Sora should drive you home.”

“She’s drunk, she can’t drive!”

“Not this time, just in general,” Jungkook mutters, “Some best friend, letting you ride alone in a damn Uber for twenty minutes without even checking up on you-”

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You mumble abruptly, “I want to go home, Jungkook. Will you take me home?”

And who is he to deny you?

In hindsight, maybe you should have slowed down. Maybe he should have slowed down. But the minute you enter the threshold of your home, your hands are warm and welcoming on his chest. You want him, you need him, you need him to hold you the way you know he wants to.

Your lips are sweet against his, trembling and burning all at once.

It’s been about an hour since you both ended up falling into your bed together, and most of that hour has been filled with you both locking lips. It had been you who had pressed your hands to his firm chest with determined eyes and a deep furrow in your brow before pressing your lips to his.

As quickly as it happened, it feels right. You’re sitting on his lap as if you belong, hips slowly rocking into his as your hands pull his hair out of the ponytail that it’s in. You sigh happily when you card through his hair, fingertips gentle over his scalp.

Jungkook loves the soft, pretty noises he pulls from you with each slip of his tongue into your mouth. You’re hungry, impatient, nothing of what his initial first impression of you was. You always want more, more, more and he wants to give, give, give.

He should’ve been more surprised than he really was when you had tugged his hand into your bedroom, pushed him to your bed and climbed into his lap. Your eyes are hooded, as you duck your head to meet his lips.

He tastes like honey and mint and something sweet. He smells like fresh laundry. You could lose yourself in him, you think, as you bite his lower lip generously.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans into your mouth, missing the warmth of your lips immediately, “Wait.”

But he moans again when you nip his bottom lip gently, coaxing your way into his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to pull away, your honeyed lips too tempting for him. You complain vocally, deciding to press your lips to his neck instead.

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, a little firmly with a tight grip on your hips.

“Honey,” You say in the same tone, your lips pulled into a pretty pout.

“Slow down,” Jungkook murmurs, gently placing you on the bed, your back against your freshly washed sheets. You hum and wrap an arm around his shoulders, eyelashes fluttering as you just watch him. Jungkook looks so good above you, lips perfectly pink and pillowy… You’re tempted to lick the column of his neck, all along the swirls of ink, but you don’t.

“It’s late,” You muse, twirling his hair within your fingers. He won’t admit that he feels like putty in your arms, hovering above you.

“Great observation,” Jungkook says dryly, “Anything else you wanna share with the class?”

“Will you stay over,” You murmur, looking up at him as he lays in between your legs and dots your cheeks in soft kisses.

“You want that, baby? Pretty baby wants me to stay over?” Jungkook nearly coos at you, and you swat his hand away at his teasing.

“Shut up,” You mumble, “Only because it’s like, 3 in the morning and it would be shitty for you to go all the way across the city alone.”

“Yeah, right, only because it's three AM. Not because you want to cuddle,” Jungkook snorts.

“You’re only good for cuddling, anyway,” You shoot back, “I have some of my dad’s sweats and shirts if you want to change. Get off me, you big oaf.”

“My girl’s mean, huh?

“Oh, who said anything about your girl,” You mutter, embracing the heat in your face.

Jungkook peels his leather jacket off, but he catches your curious eyes before you turn away and all but run into the bathroom to change and take your makeup off. He’s waiting in your bed as if he lives there, waiting for you to join him.

“Why do you look so nervous in your own bedroom,” Jungkook asks bluntly, chuckling at your soft noise of offense.

“It’s not everyday I have you in my bed,” You mumble, peeling the covers back to slide into bed next to him.

“You want it to be everyday?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy,” You reply, pinching his waist. He yelps and grips your wrist loosely.

“You okay with this or what? I can sleep on the couch if you’re not,” Jungkook says, rubbing your wrist gently.

You hum, “I’m good. You good?”

“Got the prettiest girl right here. Of course I’m good,” Jungkook says, winking at you. You hide your face from him and swat his chest.

“Good night,” You mumble, “Go to sleep, stupid.”

“Who the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles into your hair, “The fuck is calling you this early, what the fuck-”

You groan, pushing your face into his chest as if that’ll push the jarring sound of your phone blaring out of your mind. Rubbing your eyes with an irritated sigh, you reach over to blindly feel for your phone on the nightstand but Jungkook reaches it first.

“Of course,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “She never misses a fucking beat does she? Even at 6:20 in the fucking morning...”

You catch a glimpse at the phone and see that it’s Sora calling you. You take the phone from his hands, letting him wrap himself around you with a pout. You run your hand over his back silently as you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You grumble raspily, voice filled with remnants of the morning.

“Hey, just checking that you were awake. You said you had an early morning today, right?” Sora's chipper voice booms into the receiver. You cringe. Has she always sounded like that?

“Yeah…” You reply, but you’re a little distracted by the way that Jungkook’s lips attach to the corner of your mouth. “Mmm…”

“You there? You falling asleep on me, or what?” Sora asks, “Always so distracted, you should seriously pay more attention-”

Jungkook hears her and glares at the phone. His eyes harden and he moves quickly, without warning you. He takes the phone from your hands swiftly as if it’s personally offended him.

“Leave us alone, Sora,” Jungkook says, steel and frustration clear in his voice, “It’s too early for this shit, go do something productive and leave us alone. ”

You watch him with gobsmacked eyes, knowing this won’t end well but unable to find it in yourself to care as much as you should.

At least not yet.

Sora’s flabbergasted screech pierces the previously quiet morning air through your phone and you wince. You knew she wouldn’t be happy, but you’ll deal with her later. When a sleepy, pouty Jungkook wasn’t in front of you already chasing your lips with his.

“Kook,” You sigh, turning your cheek to face him. He plants his lips on yours easily, pulling the words right off of your tongue and filling your mind with air.

“You embarrassed of me or something,” Jungkook teases.

“What? No,” You say sharply, eyes wide, “Why would you think that?”

“You lied to her last night and you lied to her just now. You don’t have an early morning,” Jungkook says, hands running over your cheek, “You only have me in your bed.”

“She keeps telling me I should stay away from you,” You confess, “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you, but I’ll talk to her about it later. I don’t want my best friend to not like you-”

“Is she? Your best friend?” Jungkook asks, cutting you off. Your eyes are round with confusion, head tilted to the side.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” You ask softly, “We’ve been close since college-”

“I know all the facts, baby,” Jungkook says, trying his best to not insult Sora to you the way he wants to, “I know she’s been your friend since college, you’ve seen each other at your worst, all of the usual bullshit-”

“Hey!”

“... Why do you think she doesn’t want you to have anything to do with me? If she was really your best friend, she wouldn’t be this fucking concerned or involved-”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” You shrug, “She’s just… protective of me.”

“She cares too fucking much in my opinion,” Jungkook says, “Fucking control freak. Would someone protective of you send you on a blind date with an asshole who stood you up and didn’t even reach out to you after?”

Jungkook has a lot more he wants to say about Sora and how she treats you, but he keeps it to himself for now.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Only looking at him with those disarming eyes. He hasn’t said much about it, but your gears are already turning. You’ve been growing more and more tired of Sora’s antics- mainly the way she never seems to take into account your feelings unless it benefits her. It was tolerable in college, but the more you fell for Jungkook, the more tiresome it was becoming.

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You say finally, a repeat of what you said last night.

Jungkook looks at you, something undecipherable in his eyes, before nodding and quietly meeting your warm, sleepy lips with his own.

It’s been a total of thirty-six hours since you kissed Jungkook and he had spent the night with you. You haven’t had any type of conversation with him about what your kiss with him meant, what him staying the night over meant. It doesn't’ stop you from feeling giddy at the thought of him, from replaying the last kiss he had given you. From leaving you wanting more.

You think nothing of it as you cheerily buy a dozen donuts to bring with you to the tattoo parlor to surprise Jungkook and your friends. Maybe you can sneak a kiss in.

But the minute you walk into the parlor, you know something is a little off. Jungkook’s shoulders are tense, a pensive look settled in his eyes. His jaw is clenched, tongue poking his cheek.

“Hi,” You murmur, offering him the box of donuts, “I come bearing treats.”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. He chews on his chapped bottom lip, deep in thought. You didn’t know what to expect after seeing him for the first time after he spent the night with you, but this isn’t what you expected.

He’s standing across from you with crossed arms over his broad chest. The air between you both feels cold and still, icy as you exhale. He’s upset about something, and after before you can ask him what’s wrong (before you can stop your own spiral downwards), he beats you to the punch-

“I don’t understand you,” Jungkook says, his voice perfectly calm and even. But it’s eerie.

Your heart drops to your stomach instantly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“What?” You hate how soft, how weak your voice sounds. But you can’t help it, not when disappointment coats his eyes and when he speaks to you like he’s disgusted by you. You don’t understand him either. The way he switches up on you with no warning.

Jungkook takes a deep breath to tell you what’s been on his mind. Instead of the practiced speech that sounded much calmer in his mind, what comes out is-

“You let Sora walk all over you,” Jungkook hisses, “You let her dictate almost every fucking decision! She has this inexplicable hold over you, and you don’t even know it!”

Jungkook hates confrontation, he really does. But he’s at his wit’s end with you and with Sora. Mostly with you, for not seeing a terrible friend in front of your eyes even when everyone tries telling you. How can you be this blinded by it? By her?

“She manipulates you at every turn, and you just let her! And you know what, I get it- it’s hard to recognize it when you’re in it. But we’ve all told you. She’s not a good friend to you, at all!”

Your face falls, heart sinking into a black hole that begins to swirl in your belly. You can’t stand it, the fire in his eyes despite the ice in his voice. You don’t like this. You don’t like this.

“I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on listening to her,” Jungkook seethes, getting angrier the more he thinks about Sora, “She treats you like shit- you have to know you deserve better than that, right? She sabotages you every chance she gets. She doesn’t like any of us, you know that? And forget that- why don’t you fucking ask yourself why she has the opposite opinion to everything when it comes to something you like? Your fucking car, your apartment, your job, your choice in decor. Even me.”

His words make you ache terribly and you desperately need something to hold on to to ground yourself. You shove your fists in the pockets of your jacket and surely, you’re clenching your fists tight enough that your nails are piercing through the skin of your palms.

“You never question her intentions. You’ve never even dreamed of questioning her,” Jungkook continues with a cruel sneer, lips twisting into something unfamiliar that cuts across you, “You should ask yourself why. You should ask yourself by you’re always defending her, walking on eggshells around her, afraid to be in disagreement with her, when she doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

But he doesn’t stop there, “You’re so fucking naive a-and fucking foolish. You can’t see how she always has to have you in the palm of her hand, how she makes sure she’s ahead of you in life, by whatever twisted definition of that she has. You deserve better than her. And I know I deserve better than to be hidden because you’re too scared to face your supposed best friend.”

You don’t have any words. Your brain seems to short circuit at his harsh truths, unable to formulate a single sentence. Instead your hands tremble and your eyes become wet.

You say nothing. As always, you say nothing.

“You’re not gonna say anything? Not even now?” Jungkook asks, tongue pressing against his cheek.

Another five seconds goes by before you open your mouth, “I d-don’t know what to say,” Your voice is quiet, unlike what Jungkook is used to, “It seems you’ve already made up your mind about me. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jungkook could scream in frustration. You still won’t say what’s on your mind, even when he insults you straight to your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking (mainly because you hardly ever say anything about it), despite being able to read you easily.

“I think I should go,” You say in the same soft, defeated voice, “I b-brought donuts, but umm… they’re over there. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

With that, you turn your back on him and on the tattoo parlor to head outside. He doesn’t see the trembling of your hands or of your shoulders. He doesn’t know that you somehow hold your tears back the whole way home, biting down harshly on your bottom lip enough to draw blood.

Jungkook doesn’t know that you barely make it into your apartment with his words ringing cruelly in your head. He doesn’t know that you collapse in your bed in a mess of sobs and the sound of your heart aching.

You’re alone.

It takes all of thirty seconds after your departure for Jungkook to realize the weight of his words and for your defeated, hunched over shoulders to replay in his mind like a movie. It takes another forty seconds for Mina and Mei to emerge from their respective offices (where he’s certain they heard the entire conversation) and scream at him for his callousness-

“I have never known you to speak to anyone like that, let alone the girl that you’ve liked for who knows how long! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mina says and smacks the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Mei continues with narrowed eyes, “You better apologize to her and kiss her fucking feet-”

“Who else was going to tell her about Sora? She hasn’t listened to-”

“There is a way to communicate these things!” Mei says angrily, “You yelling at her like that wasn’t the move and you know it. You’re so fucking stupid!”

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, equally as angry. He pulls away from both of them, not wanting to hear it from them anymore.

“That girl Sora is a fucking bitch but you’re no better for how you just behaved,” Mina hisses, “Get your shit together, Jeon.”

He knows that he was harsh, maybe too harsh with you. Looking back on the memory of your glossy eyes and sad, slumped shoulders… You hadn’t even fought him. You’d just accepted his barrage of words as fact, without even thinking to provide an explanation or a defense of yourself.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut in shame. Once the anger dissolves into hurt, he reaches a conclusion. He should’ve just talked to you rather than lash out at you like that.

You’re no delicate flower, but damn, he’d do anything to take away the broken look in your eyes.

You take exactly two days off from work to sort through your feelings and thoroughly comb through your previous memories with Sora, and subsequently, with all of your friends. You spend most of this time in your bed, under the covers and scrolling through old photos from college and post-grad life.

It’s funny- you don’t really know where your sense of self got away from you.

You’ve always approached people- relationships, friendships- logically and rationally. Or at least you thought you had. It seems like a lot of your reactions to things that may have upset you or bothered you (or lack thereof) was for the convenience of others- namely Sora.

You bury your head in your hands when she passes through your memory. How could you have let it escalate this far? Can you be so blind to someone treating you so horribly for this long? Can you excuse her behavior for the simple fact that she’s been your supposed friend for years?

You try to think back on a time when you felt like you could unabashedly be yourself around Sora without any consequence for simply existing.

You come up blank.

Logic comes easy to you. It’s easy for you to make the decision to finally speak to Sora and say what needs to be said. Especially when your other friends were hurt by her actions, and by extension, yours.

After about another thirty-six hours, you decide. It doesn’t surprise you, how easy it is to make the decision. You decide that this “friendship” with Sora isn’t worth it. Not when she’s made you feel like this for years and if she treats your friends this way, too.

You’ll give her a chance to explain, but most of your mind is set already. Considering how well you know her, you know how this conversation is going to go. You dread it, but it must be done. Even if it’s long overdue.

“I need you to be honest with me,” You say plainly, keeping your face neutral even as your heart hammers away in your chest. At least you’re in the safety and comfort of your own home, your pastel green throw pillow on your lap acting as an anchor.

Sora sits across from you, an eyebrow raised. Her mouth is twisted into something defensive, on the ready to eat you alive. How could you not notice it before?

“When am I ever not honest with you?” Sora scoffs.

“Then it should be easy for you to answer a few questions for me, and we can be on our merry ways,” You say breezily, your eyes hardened. She swallows. Good.

“The fuck you being so formal for?” Sora laughs, but her smile drops when she sees that you’re not joking.

“Why are you so mean to Jungkook and his friends? My friends?” You ask without missing a beat. You cross your arms over your chest and look at her expectantly. Your ears feel warm, but you press on.

Even if Jungkook is perhaps irreparably upset with you, you think this is his influence. Growing a spine and sticking up for yourself, for the people around you.

“Seriously? That’s what’s got your panties twisted?” Sora says, waving a dismissive hand at you, “Don’t worry about them, they don’t know you like I do- I mean who else was holding your hair back when you were throwing your guts up in college?”

“I don’t think the quality of a friendship should be assessed by how many drunken nights we had.”

“Who else was there for you when nobody else was?” Sora hisses, “I took you home when your parents left you for the holidays, I was the one who was there with you when your shitty ex’s ghosted you, god, your taste is the worst-I was the only one who ever saw you!”

You squeeze your pillow far too tightly.

“Stop holding that shit over my head,” You snap, “Those are just things that friends do. I never begged you for your support and I shouldn’t have to feel like I owe you something other than friendship just for being your only fucking friend who put up with your shit for this long.”

Before she can open her mouth to speak, you cut across her, “Stop talking about the past. College was years ago at this point. We graduated fucking almost six years ago. And even in college… you haven’t changed a bit,” You let out a mirthless laugh, “What do you have to say for our friendship right now? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have set me up with a loser who stood me up. You afraid of something, Sora? You afraid I’ve been around people who are friends with me because they actually like me, not because they get off on a weird power trip?

“Ever since the beginning, all you’ve done is push me away from myself,” You say with trembling lips, “E-everything, you’ve just… you just take everything I like and I want and completely dismiss it. It’s n-not right. A-and it took this long, for Jungkook to call it out for me to realize. This- this isn’t friendship-”

To your misery, her lips morph into a cruel sneer. “Jungkook? You went behind my back-”

“Behind your back? You don’t even have a good reason-”

“I told you, I’m only-”

“No! You’re gonna let me finish, for once,” You raise your voice, levelling her with a glare containing years worth of anger, “It’s clear, with or without Jungkook, that you’ve only kept me around to make yourself feel better. How twisted is that! You kept me down, made me doubt myself and everything just so you could feel better.”

You take a deep, deafening breath.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Even now, you can’t reassure me. Even now, you can’t call on our friendship as something fond to remember. You weaponized me for your own insecurities. Get out.”

“Get out? You’re kicking me out?” Sora’s sneer drops immediately. Maybe you’re being cruel, but you can’t take it anymore. Something passes across her face that makes you draw an ounce of sympathy for her but it evaporates immediately.

“Yup,” You say, popping the ‘p’, “We’re not friends, and I don’t think we ever were. So thanks, for bringing me back to my senses.”

And that’s that- she leaves with her tail between her legs, not pleading for your affection or your friendship. You’re grateful for that, because you feel like you might collapse in about two minutes.

***

It has been exactly nine days since you ended your friendship with Sora and exactly fourteen days since you stepped foot in the tattoo parlor. You’ve only just reached out to Mei and Mina, in between sporadic texts to Hobi and Yoongi.

It’s been exactly two weeks since you spoke to Jungkook. You miss him, you miss his crooked smirk, his bunny smile. Most of all, you miss the comfort and safety his presence brings. But you’re too nervous to reach out to him again, his harsh words and fiery eyes blinking back at you in your own mind. You’re nervous to even show your face at the tattoo parlor.

Jungkook has been receiving an earful from all of his friends since the last day he spoke to you. Hobi’s wrath, along with Mei and Mina’s wrath, is something he never wants to relive twice. Yoongi and Jin also lectured him, and he only looked at them with wide, doe eyes in understanding. Whatever anger he was holding on to has simmered down to hurt, and now he just misses you. And he very much regrets the way he spoke to you.

He winces when he recalls his cruel words, the sharp edge of his tongue that slipped out so easily. So quickly, to strike you right where it hurts. Jungkook can’t get your stricken expression out of his mind. Knowing he put that look on your face, it makes him ache. And he’s the coward, for still not reaching out to you to apologize.

He’s too nervous to face you, but he has to.

***

jeon jungkook : hi. can we talk sometime soon?

It takes you fifteen minutes to respond. What he doesn’t know is that you had panicked for ten of those fifteen minutes, nearly dropping your phone when you had seen his name pop up on your screen.

you 🧡 : hi. sure. Where?

***

You give yourself a pep talk the entire drive to the park. You’re glad he suggested a park, and a park close to your home- you’re grateful for the open area. You’re incredibly nervous to see him for the first time in a while, running through different scenarios in your head before scolding yourself.

It’s Jungkook. Even if he hurt you, it’s still Jungkook. You trust him. You want to trust him.

You spot Jungkook leaning on his motorcycle, looking like a vision in all black. As almost always a strand of black hair escapes his ponytail as he lights his cigarette. If you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice his nerves in the way he grips his lighter tightly.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Hi.”

You wring your hands together, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. You’re just as nervous as he is, he realizes. But still, you stand with your back straightened, eyes wary. You glow, and despite the fact that it’s only been two weeks, he senses something different about you.

“Hi,” Jungkook murmurs, the pet name on the tip of his tongue but he refrains, “Come here. Can I hug you?”

“Y-yeah,” You nod with a small smile and he envelopes you in his arms, holding you tightly. Inhaling every bit of you that he can. He wants to kiss you again, kiss you breathless, kiss you so that you forget his cruelty.

But he can’t erase it. So he doesn’t.

“I brought blankets for us,” Jungkook murmurs, pointing to the basket, “Let’s go sit?”

You nod and follow his lead.

***

“It was messed up,” You say forlornly, “We kissed, we kissed a lot, you slept in my bed and then you yelled at me. Insulted me in your tattoo parlor. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot.” There’s only a little malice in your voice, but he’ll take it.

You’re both sitting across from each other, knees touching with open and honest eyes. You feel vulnerable and exposed around him, especially considering how your last conversation with him went.

“You should’ve just talked to me,” You mumble.

“I know,” Jungkook says instantly, takes your much smaller hands in his and squeezes, “I fucked up. I’m so sorry I spoke to you like that. You didn’t deserve that from me. You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all from me. I’m sorry I let everything fester and took it out on you. I’m so fucking sorry. I made you cry, didn’t I?”

You look away from him for a millisecond before nodding, “You’d cry too, if the man you liked, the man you just spent the night with for the first time, spoke to you like that. In his own place of work. I only brought you donuts and you just- what the fuck? You just went off on me, I had no idea you were even feeling that intensely about Sora. About me-

“I’m not naive and I’m not stupid. Don’t take me for a fool,” You say pointedly, not letting go of his hands. Jungkook cringes before opening his mouth.

“You’re not naive or stupid, I’m sorry-”

“But… I understand, I think. You know when you kind of… know something but it takes another person for you to realize? I think I always knew how Sora was and didn’t want to face it. Or face her. For so long, it felt like she was all I had for some reason. Like even if there were others, it felt like her approval mattered the most. And I realized it was because she just always had this way of making me feel less than her. But mostly, I owe that realization to you. Even if you went about it the wrong way.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, “I’m so fucking sorry, I should’ve just talked to you about how I was feeling, rather than take it out on you. You deserve better than that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” You say, surprising him, “For allowing her to get in the way of us, for allowing her to run her mouth. For not having a spine-”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, “When someone is controlling and manipulative like that, it’s hard to see past it-”

“But is it an excuse?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head, “I let it hurt you, hurt Yoongi, Hobi, Mina, Mei…”

“Maybe not an excuse. But it makes it understandable,” Jungkook says, “All we can do is move forward right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” You nod, “I know it doesn’t really change much now, but… I told Sora I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. In fact, I kicked her out of my apartment. It was very dramatic and satisfying. Like something out of a movie.”

Jungkook laughs despite himself, pulling a small smile from you as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-”

“You just ended a friendship with someone who’s been around for a long time. That’s not easy.”

“It was easier than I thought it would be. Turns out telling someone to get out of your apartment after letting out about eight years of pent up frustration really is the most vindicating thing a girl can do,” You murmur with a soft laugh, “I think I’m just upset with myself that it took this long. That it took hurting you, the last person I’d ever want to hurt, to realize.”

Jungkook rubs your thumb gently, sending gentle ripples over your skin.

“I’m sorry I disrespected you like that,” Jungkook says, sincerity forming dotted diamonds in his eyes, “God, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I’m sorry I disrespected you, too. By ignoring all of the red flags, I let her get away with so much. I let her get away with her saying so much shit about you.”

There’s a comfortable pause between you both.

“I think we need to take time for ourselves,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes uncertain but earnest, “Before we start anything-”

“And who said I wanted to start anything with you,” You tease, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, “I agree… Maybe no more pet names, huh?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks in amusement.

“To break up, we’d have to be together to begin with,” You say softly. Despite his own words, his own insistence that he knows you both have some feelings to work through before starting anything romantic without lingering feelings of resentment… Jungkook just wants to pull you into his lap and kiss you, steal your breath, feel your hips in his hands. You look so pretty under the sunlight, the rays brushing over your hair warmly and casting a faint halo over your head.

He drinks you in with his eyes, not allowing a single inch of you to pass him. It’s only been two weeks, but he looks at you as if it’s been so much longer since he’s seen you.

You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions around him, and this time is no different. You look like you want to eat him alive, your eyes hooded and palms hot against his. Something in you wants him, wants him to hold you close, feel his hands over any and every inch of you that he can reach.

You want him to paint you with his hands, maybe share some of that sparkle that he seems to be made of.

Your eyes linger, a soft sigh escaping your lips without realizing it. Jungkook resists a smirk, keeping his observations to himself. He catches your gaze burning through his balmy skin, on his arms, his chest, his neck…

It’s too bad. It really is.

Memories of your night together flash behind your eyelids, the way you seemed to fit just perfectly on top of his strong thighs, the way his big hands felt ghosting over you.

You force your eyes away and touch your lips subconsciously, blinking away the ghost of his kiss. Pulling your hands away from him, you offer him a contrite smile.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook,” You murmur, standing up from the blanket. His first instinct is to help you up, but he remembers, he’s supposed to keep his hands to himself.

“Yeah. See you around.”

Jungkook’s dimples are the last thing you see when you turn your back and head to your car. You try your best not to look back at him, despite every neuron in your brain screaming at you to.

----

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

MoM Tags: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys as Bad Dad moments

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou and Numai

**These are ways they “failed” as fathers. I am not talking about ACTUALLY failing as fathers, just things dads have done that most of us either remember/get told about NOT TO BE TAKEN  S E R I O U S L Y  it is just for      f u n  I also gave them all at least 2 kids cause SibLiNgS**

A ‘*’ means it happened to me lol

TW- Mentions of giving too much medicine, accidental pain caused to child, these are things I either experienced/knew people who experienced them, allusion to cursing/a FEW bad words (but I substitute a letter for something else :)

*Akaashi Keiji: 

He had been working in his office when his son had come in.

You had been putting your newborn to sleep for a nap when your son decided he wanted to be with his dad.

His son was only 3, so when Akaashi was held up in his office editing his son, Kenji, would sometimes come in and plop himself in Akaashi’s lap.

His sons small feel padded on the floor while he made his way to his father, softly tugging on his pants as he stuck his arms up.

Akaashi smiled and softly chuckled before gently picking up his son from under his arms and placing him on his lap.

He got to work soon after, reading and revising the pages.

Other than having his son on his lap it wasn’t unusual for him to be drinking coffee while working.

Keep in mind, your son had inherited a lot from Akaashi, and not just his looks or personality.

But also his habits.

Because of this, your son was very fidgety, usually toying with a string or your fingers.

That meant he tended to move around a lot.

Akaashi had just lifted his not-so-cold coffee to his lips when his son had made a sudden movement, causing him to knock his arm and, “AHH” Akaashi’s eyes snapped open as his son started crying, cursing under his breath he stood up gently holding his son in his arms as he carried him to the bathroom.

Sitting him down on the counter he dried the coffee off of his son, luckily it hadn’t been hot enough to burn him, but it was still hot enough to hurt.

“What happened? I heard crying, is he okay?” Akaashi sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, he’s okay, he bumped my arm and I spilled my coffee on him. He’s okay! It didn’t burn him, but it did hurt...” Your frowned as you stood in front of your son, giving him a soft smile before kissing his arm, cause kisses always make it feel better~

You carefully picked him up from the counter, rocking him slowly side to side as he burrowed into your shoulder.

“Are you okay little man~” He nodded as he sniffled into your shoulder, little hands clutching onto the fabric of your t-shirt.

“You know daddy didn’t mean it, it was an accident.” He nodded again, lifting his head to rub his eyes and reach out for his dad.

Akaashi gave a wobbly smile before reaching over to grab him, kissing the top of his head as he carried him back to his office, making sure to have some iced coffee instead.

Washio Tatsuki: 

This would be the first time Washio was left alone with the twins.

5 months ago, you and your husband had had your first children, your adorable fraternal twins Natsuki and Tatsuo.

Today would be the first day you would be away from them, but with your mother being sick and you being the only one available to take care of her you had to go.

You weren’t too worried about your husband, he was already a good dad so you had no doubt they were in good hands.

But it was never an enjoyable experience to have to leave your kids, especially your babies, and for the first time. 

So, you decided to leave early in the morning, give them their good morning kisses and head over to your parents house.

Before you left you changed their diapers, letting them play in their little play pen while your husband tried to get up.

Rubbing his eyes Washio walked into the play room.

He had to go to the gym today for a meeting, fortunately EJP had a really good daycare system in the stadium, so he could leave his kids there while he attended the short meeting.

He stopped in his tracks as his face blanched and he felt his breath stop.

You had changed the twins’ diapers...but you hadn’t dressed them.

The twins were still young, so without looking at their, uh, biological differences you couldn’t tell them apart....

Now, usually when this happened you guys would just check the diapers, but you had just done them..

And he was already running a bit late.

So, he made his best guess, got them dressed (one in pink, the other in blue), fed and in the car driving them to the stadium.

Once he got there he quickly dropped them off, rushing to his meeting.

The meeting had been fairly simple, just some pre-season info he’d need.

After chatting with his coach/teammates, and stopping Suna and Komori from pulling a prank, he made his way back to the daycare.

He walked into the building when one of the younger care takers, Yui, walked up to him, One twin in each arm.

He smiled as he carefully put them into their carriers.

“Uhm, just a question...” He looked up to her and motioned for her to continue.

“...Were you aware that Tatsuo was wearing the dress?” Washio sighed as he ran a hand down his face shaking his head. Yui light heartedly smiled, “Don’t worry, we switched them.” Thanking them, he picked up his babies and went home.

He was not prepared for the way you cackled when he told you what happened.

*Konoha Akinori: 

You had gone away for a business trip, leaving your husband Konoha home with your 3 kids. (You guys have 2 girls and a boy)

Your middlest child, your son Akira, had recently come down with a cold making the poor thing miserable when he tried to sleep.

Being the good dad that he is, he gave his son some benadryl!

The next morning he woke up, and after letting his kids sleep in for a little bit he woke them up too.

...two of them.

He tried several times to get his son to leave his bed, but the little kid couldn’t so much as swing one foot over the side of his bed with out falling asleep again.

He didn’t think too much of it, the kid had a cold after all.

So he let him sleep for another hour or so before making him get up for real.

A day later you got home, and everything was pretty much normal.

Until you went to put your son to bed, and realized he had crashed on the couch.

“...Uhm, Akinori?” Your husband lifted his head at your voice, setting the dishes in the sink and drying his hands with a towel as he made his way over to you. 

“Yeah babe?” You took a look over towards your son before looking back to your husband.

“...Has Akira been like that all weekend?” Konoha ran his hand through his hair as he sighed. “No, only since Saturday. He wasn’t feeling good so I gave him some benadryl, he’s been dead to the world since.” You slowly nodded.

“Uhm, Akinori?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “How much benadryl did you give him?”

He left to grab the box, coming back with it in his hand as he continued to look at it.

He shook his head in confusion. “I gave him the amount the box said, 1 teasp-”- He paused.

Uh oh.

He in fact, had not given his son a teaspoon of benadryl.

He had given him a tablespoon.

*Kita Shinsuke: 

You had to leave early one morning for a doctors appointment; you were pregnant with you and Kita’s second child. 

Usually for these appointments Kita’s grandmother would watch your 3 year old daughter Kyoka.

But she had something to do that morning so Kita was the one responsible for getting her ready for preschool.

Kita was a good father so you weren’t worried.

You knew she would be put together, fed, and on time.

There was just one thing you couldn’t account for.

“Daddy?” Kita looked away from the mirror he was shaving in and down to his daughter, washing away the traces of shaving cream. “Yes sweetheart?”

She held out her small hand, 2 bright pink hair ties with little butterfly charms on them held out in her palm.

“Can you do my piggy tails please?” His eyes widened.

He hadn’t done hair...like...ever.

But from the puppy eyes his little princess was giving him, how could he not do it?!

Plus, it couldn’t be that hard...right? I mean, he had watched you do it plenty of times, and it was pretty straight forward.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed he had her stand on the ground in front of him.

He grabbed her brush and put the two hair ties she had given him on his wrist.

He brushed her hair and parted it as evenly as he could, trying to be gentle in the process.

Now time for the pig tails..

He pulled her hair back, trying to make it tight to it would stay.

...But he might have made it a little too tight.

He turned her around and realized he had made them way too tight.

Not only did her hair look like he had slicked it back with x4 strength hair gel, but it was so tight that her eyebrows had been stuck way up on her forehead.

He was quick to turn her back around, loosening the hair ties so she looks like a 3 year old again.

His face turned undeniably red as he told you what happened later that night, you light heartedly laughing at his misfortune.

Suna Rintaro: 

Suna had just gotten out of practice, and now he was on the way to his kids school. 

You and Suna had 4 kids, 2 boys and 2 girls. 

The youngest 2 had a doctor’s appointment earlier that day, which you had taken them too. Meaning Suna needed to pick the older 2 up from elementary school.

He had been listening to music, his music to be specific.

He had pulled into the parking lot, changing the playlist to a kid friendly one right before his children got in the car.

After they had told him about their days, and he had told about his, he switched back on the music.

It had been fine for a song.

Until he realized that he had a few songs qued.

The fun little song had just ended when the bass dropped, the color draining from his face as soon as the song started.

The mentioned song being “Big Bank” by YG, 2 Chainz, Big Sean and Nicki Minaj of course~.

He was quick to turn the radio off, waiting until he could pull over, empty the que, and turn on kid friendly music.

He told the kids to ‘forget what they heard’ and he continued on his drive home.

Now, you’ve got to remember, his daughter is in kindergarten and his son is in 2nd grade, so they’re still kind of at that “monkey see, monkey do” age range.

Or rather, “monkey hear, monkey repeat.”

He thought it was gonna be okay, they were good kids so he figured telling them to forget they even heard it, they would let it go.

There was just one thing about his children that he didn’t account for.

As obedient and well behaved as his children were, they were also very curious.

That night at dinner they had all been sat down at the table, eating dinner and talking about their days. 

You had been feeding your infant son while Suna had been watching the 3 year old, the other 2 older children happily eating their food. Until...

“Hey mommy?” You looked at your daughter with a smile, “Yes baby?” She continued to eat her dinner, “What’s a b!tch?” Your eyes widened as your husband choked on his food, your baby laughing at the scene before him.

Hitting his chest and taking a sip of water Suna tried to catch his breath.

“Nezuko we don’t say that, where did you hear that?!” She tilted her head as she looked at you confused before turning to look at Suna, pointing a small finger at him.

“It was on the radio, daddy told us to ‘forget’ but I didn’t know what it meant...What does it mean?” You sent a glare towards your husband as you sighed.

After explaining to your daughter why it was bad to say those things and not to repeat everything she heard you cleaned up your kids and put them to bed.

...You had quite the conversation with your husband later that night.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Ushijima had been on grocery duty this week since you had a meeting with a friend.

He had the Friday off, and since you weren’t home he took the kids with him.

Now, I would like you to know that you guys have 6 kids. S I X.

Growing up with no siblings and divorced parents, Ushijima wanted to make sure none of his kids were lonely.

Originally you guys had two, each kid had a buddy.

...but then you had a third, and you couldn’t just leave him alone...

so you had another...then another...

And now you guys have 6. But it’s okay cause you both love kids anyway~

He was doing his best, he truly was. He had his 2 youngest sitting in the little seat by the handle bar, 2 kids in the basket, 1 hanging onto the side and the oldest walking alongside him.

When they got to check out he had to take one of the kids out of the basket, so he opted for his 3rd oldest, his son Kazue, figuring he was older so it’d be a-okay.

He checked out his extensive amount of groceries before loading them up into his car, and his kids.

He pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and got on the road, his kids singing along to the radio and chatting amongst themselves.

They had been driving for 6 minutes when his oldest child, Ren, spoke up. “Uh, dad?” He hummed, briefly checking the rear view mirror before returning his gaze to the road. “When are we going back to get Kazue?” His face lost all color as his eyes widened.

As swiftly and safely as he could he pulled over to the side of the road, whipping around in his seat to take a head count. ‘1..2..3..4..5...oh sh-’ Turning back around he got back onto the road, taking the nearest u-turn and rushing back to the store. 

Unbuckling his kids from their carseats he hurried them back into the store, his oldest holding the 2nd borns hand, as he held all 3 of the younger ones in his arms.

He frantically entered the store, almost collapsing with relief when he saw his son sat at the customer service desk with the security guard, eating a lollipop before smiling when he saw his dad come to pick him up.

After giving proof that yes, he was his father, he took all of his kids back home after getting them some ice cream.

...this would be one conversation he was not excited to have with you....

Yahaba Shigeru: 

Yahaba and his 2 sons had been hanging out in the living room while you finished making some snacks in the kitchen.

Yahaba had been trying to set up a DVD player, you guys were going to watch some home-videos from your high school days but they were all on CD.

So, after borrowing one from his parents house, he set out to hook it up to the TV.

...Which was proving much more difficult then he first anticipated.

His two boys, Itsuki (6) and Hayato (8) were in there with him, ‘helping’ as they had called it.

Yahaba groaned as he sat back, a hand ruffling through his hair as he racked his brain to think of the problem.

You had finished preparing everything so you came in, with the food, and set it down on the coffee table.

You came up behind your husband, kneeling down behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders.

“How’s it going?” He sighed, leaning back into you.

“Well, I think I know what I need to do, I’m going to have to stick my hand back there though. Hey Hayato, can you help me out buddy?” The 8 year old excitedly nodded.

“Great, I need you to hold this flashlight here, hold it steady okay?” Hayato nodded with a ‘Yup!’ before Yahaba laid down on his side, maneuvering to where he could see the back of the TV.

All had been going well, he had just got it hooked up, and after having you test it, it worked!

He tried to get himself out from behind the TV, until a sharp edge caught his finger.

“Sh!t!” Your eyes widened, “Shigeru!” He hadn’t realized his slip up until he was out from behind the TV, faced directly with your glare.

“Kids, don’t say that.” His youngest blinked at him. “But why?”.

Kneeling down in front of him Yahaba tried to explain, but it was a little hard when you were glaring holes into the back of his head and his oldest was giggling at the situation.

*Iwaizumi Hajime: 

It was a weekend in summer vacation, and you and your husband were both off work.

This meant, you guys got a whole day to spend with your 3 boys, and one of the things you guys loved to do as a family was play games.

On this particular afternoon, your sons had chosen to play twister.

You were a little skeptical because you had 3 competitive, rambunctious boys. 

And an equally competitive rambunctious husband.

But after getting 4 identical pouts you couldn’t say no...

But, you elected to be the spinner. (..for your own safety)

“Left hand, green.” This put your middlest son in quite the predicament.

The only space available was the Green directly by his fathers hand, meaning he’d have to crawl under Iwaizumi.

“Okay Hajime, right hand, yellow.” Iwaizumi grimaced as he tried to reach it.

 This wasn’t good, the mat was slick, his hands were sweating-

“oOf” Before he could catch himself he had completely lost his balance, landing right on his son.

You gasped in horror as you saw the life get squeezed out of your 5 year old, scrambling from where you sat to check on your now pancaked son.

“...Hiro..are you okay..?” 

His small head shot up with a “I’m okay!” Before he, albeit wearily, stood up brushing off his godzilla t-shirt before continuing on with his life.

You took a deep breath as you sat back down, flashing a warning look towards your husband who sheepishly smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

And after checking that yes, your son really was okay, you guys continued on with some...safer games.

Futakuchi Kenji: 

You had left for a weekend visit to see your parents in your hometown, leaving your husband and Your 3 girls alone.

It was a friday night, so after having a less than healthy dinner, ice cream and a fair amount of other sweets, Futakuchi figured a movie before bed would be a good way to finish off the night.

He scrolled through netflix trying to find a movie he could watch with his girls.

“Daddy, can we watch snow white?!” Futakuchi looked down at his oldest, Hayami, before he shrugged. “Sure.”

He may be a guy, but he was not above watching princess movies if it meant his babies were happy. Besides, it was a disney movie, what bad could be in it!

Everything was going swell, until the witch showed up.

He felt the sick feeling of dread in his stomach as soon as he felt his middlest curl in tight to his side, his youngest hopping off of the couch and climbing into his lap.

...Disney SHOULD have been a safe bet, but with the way his 3 girls were clinging onto him for dear life, he probably should have previewed it first..

That night he put them to bed, reading them a quick story before giving them each a kiss on their forehead and tucking them into bed. 

15 minutes.

15 minutes of almost sleep when he heard you guys’ bedroom door creak open, 3 sets of little feet pad over to his side of the bed.

“...daddy..?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he opened them, brown eyes meeting the teary ones of his 3 children as they stood there. Speaking in as soft of a voice as he could he tried not to sound as tired as he knew he was.

“What is it munchkin?” His daughters all fidgeted where they stood, fiddling with the hems of their princess night gowns as they stood there.

“...We’re scared...can we sleep with you..?” Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get them to sleep like you could, and being incredibly tired himself he moved to the side, opening the covers and making room for all 3 of his princesses.

...This was going to be a long night for him.. 

Daishou Suguru: 

Daishou had been playing outside with his kids, his 2 year old son Kento and his 5 year old daughter Shizuko.

His son was sat on his shoulders, one of Daishou’s hands wrapped firmly around the boys ankles while the other pushed his daughter on the swing.

You had been inside getting dinner ready while they had been outside; smiling fondly at the smiles that were plastered on their faces.

When dinner had finished you walked to the sliding glass door, opening it and calling to them. “Dinners ready! Come inside and wash up so we can eat.” Your daughter and husband replied with ‘okay!’ as you went back to get plates. 

Slowing down the swing Daishou brought it to a stop so Skizuko could safely get off.

In all honesty, he was a good dad.

He was very mindful of his children and their surroundings, so they didn’t get hurt too often.

He was also very careful not to accidentally hurt them.

But accidents happen.

Walking to the back door, he, somehow either forgot or the thought didn’t register in his mind that his son was still perched on his shoulders.

He didn’t remember until a loud *whack!* was heard, and his sons cries sounded above him.

..He had tried going inside, through the door, with his son on his shoulders.

Bringing him down from his shoulders he quickly brought him inside to set him down on the counter, you almost screaming when you saw the bruise forming on his little forehead.

“Ah-wha-how- SUGURU! What happened?!”

Groaning Daishou gently put a small ice pack on his sons head, “...He whacked his head on the door frame...” You looked at him, “And how did he do that?”

Daishou sighed as he looked down, grimacing at the purple mark already present on his sons head.

...For the next few nights the couch became a good friend of his.

Numai Kazuma: 

Today was your son, Kazuya’s birthday. Today he would be turning 1.

Kazuya was the first, and so far only child you had with your husband of 3 years Kazuma Numai.

You and Numai were still learning how to be parents, and it had been an interesting journey to say the least, but you guys were doing good!

Your relatives and friends had just left, leaving you, Kazuma and your son.

It was pretty late so you started cleaning up in the kitchen and Numai started in the living room.

Kazuya had been pretty fussy, you both figuring he was tired, but when you tried to put him to sleep he wouldn’t even close his eyes.

So, deciding it’d be best to get it out of the way Numai held Kazuya as he was cleaning.

Things had been going just fine before Kazuya had reached out to grab at something on a nearby book shelf, causing the book shelf to start tipping over.

At that moment the only thing going through Numai’s mind was ‘stop the book shelf’, because at the moment, getting his son and him crushed by a bookshelf seemed like a very bad thing.

But what he hadn’t thought of was the fact that reflexively he had used both of his arms to stop said shelf (which didn’t even fall), the same two arms that had been holding his- “WAAAHH”

His eyes snapped down to the BABY he had just let go of, now crying on the floor.

You rushed into the living room, seeing your husband now cradling your still crying son, whispering apologies into his hair as he kissed the top of his head.

“Kazuma what happened?” 

He avoided eye contact. 

“...Kazuma...” Looking down he spoke.

“...I dropped him...”

...

“...you what?”

[kpopxx]

Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems

Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader

4579 words

Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic​, @nsfwtwicecatcher​, @nsfwflint​, and @ggidolsmuts​ in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work. 

One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.

As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!

***

“Coming up on the target now.” 

“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.

“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.

You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.

“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.

“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.

“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.

“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”

“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you. 

As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.

A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…

You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out. 

Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.

“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”

“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”

“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa. 

“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”

You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.

You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.

It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.

You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up. 

Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.

You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.

As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.

“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments. 

“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”

“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”

Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.

“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.

“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.

“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”

Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl. 

Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.

“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.

You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it. 

Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.

You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.

Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.

“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.

“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”

“Shut up and suck my cock.”

Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.

For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.

“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?

“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.

“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”

“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was. 

You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.

Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.

“I don’t have all night.”

More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is. 

“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.

You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.

With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.

As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.

You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.

“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.

Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.

You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.

Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.

Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.

“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.

Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.

You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.

“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”

“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”

Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.

“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”

Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.

Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.

Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.

“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”

“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.

“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.

“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.

After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.

“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”

You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night. 

After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.

“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.

“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”

“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”

There was no command in the world easier to follow.

Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.

“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”

“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”

A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.

And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.

“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”

Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.

“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.

“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.

“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.

“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”

“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”

“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”

***

A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.

You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear. 

“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”

“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”

“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”

“You did WHAT?!”

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | Part five

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: pregnancy, chronic illness, spencer's career chance - he's a high school teacher now, they have a 1-year-old, smut at the end but not graphic.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: I imagine this is in season 10, so they've been together at least 7 years-ish now, I just jumped well into the future because I wanted to! also, Cordelia's nickname is Edie and pronounced Ee-dee !!

P1 P2 P3 P4

“No.”

Spencer sighs, “are you going to like any of my suggestions?”

“When you give me a baby name that isn’t from some weird old male book character, then yes, I’ll take them into consideration,” she replies, hand on her stomach as she lays back against the pillows.

She was huge, 9 months pregnant and so, so close to the finish line. She was swollen and in pain and exhausted. Going off every single medication and recreational drugs to make a life was a commitment and a half, she was doing well but she was so ready to be done. To do a few more months of breastfeeding and then go back on her medications.

Spencer was terrific. He was googling and asking Penelope to research things, he had called doctors he knows and friends and did everything in his power to find a way to ease her pain even before they got pregnant. He’s taken the last 3 months off of work and he doesn’t know when he’ll go back. He has just been so, so incredible the whole time.

Naming a child was hard. You had to not only think about all the nicknames and what their initials spell, but you also had to think about how they’ll like it; if it’ll fit their personality and spirit. And most of all, is it going to get them bullied? There are some terrible kid names. Like Richard… how do you name a newborn Richard?

“I want something meaningful with a nice nickname and works with our names and her siblings,” she whispered towards him. “They need to all work together.”

“What are some of your favourites?” He asks, moving in closer and finding a way to cuddle in with her and her pregnancy pillow who has all but replaced him lately.

“I like earthy names, like Lennox, Juniper, Aspen, Elowen,” her voice is really soft, she bites her lip at the end as she thinks them over again. “And old things like Cordelia and Winnifred.”

“Which one sounds the best with Reid?”

“I like Cordelia Reid the most, and then we can call her Edie and I was thinking you can pick her middle name?” She’s been thinking about it for a while, but too afraid to know his opinions.

“Cordelia means core in Latin, which makes sense cause she already has my heart,” Spencer teased, he has made it very clear that their little girl is going to be spoiled, loved and a daddy's girl.

He took all his fears of being a bad dad and threw them out the window. He knew that just being there was all he wanted from his dad, and so that’s what he was going to do. He left the BAU for the time being, he was doing the odd lecture at the academy and answering calls for cases. They couldn’t just stop using his brain, there were some things too pressing to not ask the walking computer, but other than that, he was done.

He was looking into other jobs for when he finally decides to go back, he was unsure how long of a paternity leave he wanted. He was really content with just staying home all the time now, but he did miss going out and being useful during the days. The job he was most interested in, however, was a high school teacher.

A prep school in DC is looking into adding an Anthropology, Psychology and Sociology course to their curriculum, and they wanted Spencer. They thought he would be perfect for the seniors, he is fun and young and attentive, he can control a room and keep them entertained, and he’s probably the best teacher a kid could get.

It was going to make him a good dad too.

“I think Jade is a nice middle name,” he adds after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Cordelia Jade Reid,” she says the full name for the first time and it just feels right, like they already know her.

—

She was very calm for a newborn baby.

She liked to just look around and blink, she licked her lips a lot and she was constantly breaking out of her swaddle. She was always happy to have cuddles with her dad and she pooped every night at exactly at 3 am, without fail. She didn’t cry a lot, but when she did it was still wonderful to hear.

They were so in love with her, she was absolutely perfect for them. She fit right into their sleeping schedule and their life, she ate like a pro, she slept most of the night and she was growing way too fast for their liking.

One day they’re crying over the fact they made a life in a tiny little hospital room, and the next thing they know she’s about to turn 1.

She’s sitting in bed with Y/N, she’s sitting in her lap with two handfuls of hair and a story to tell. She’s been babbling so much lately, she hears them talking all the time and she wants to join so badly. They indulge her, asking her to continue her thoughts and gasping at her gossip.

“No way, and what did you do next?!” She asked the little one sat in her lap.

Edie babbled on once more, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pushed air past her vocal cords, humming and making the funniest sounds. She went on and on, she was so enthusiastic, like her father, as she waved her arms around to make her point.

“That is so fascinating, you are so cool, little Edie,” Y/N hyped her up, smiling at her as she leaned in close and pressed their noses together.

Cordelia laughed and it finally made Spencer giggle too, he had been watching from the doorway as his ‘wife’ and daughter talked in bed. They were best friends already, always talking and snuggling, learning or reading together. She was always happy when she was with one of them, she was needy and snuggly and very co-dependent but they didn’t mind, they preferred all the attention from her.

“Look who’s home,” Y/N whispered and Cordelia shot a glance towards the door, she smiled and screamed as she saw him.

“Hi Edie!” He waves at her with a smile, he takes his bag off and places it by the dresser followed by his blazer.

He gets into the bed and she instinctively reaches for a hug. He wraps her up and she snuggles right into his neck, with a fistful of his shirt, she just holds him there. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t home all day anymore, she missed him for lunch and at nap time but she loved the new routine of a snuggle when she woke up and he got home.

Spencer leans back against the pillows beside Y/N, turning his head to capture a kiss from her lips. They always just spend a quick second kissing when he gets home, even if it’s just a peck or a full-on passionate make-out, he always kisses her when he comes home. He smiles at the end of the kiss, pulling her into a hug too.

“I love Fridays,” he whispers, “Edie do you know what Fridays mean?”

She pulls away and sits up, she loves to listen to him. “Friday is the last day of the school week, which means I get to spend 2 whole days with my favourite people now.”

Edie smiled, almost like she understood what he meant, and then she was talking again, it was completely incomprehensible but they imagined she was telling him about her day.

“You forgot the part where we went to the park,” Y/N added.

Cordelia looked at her with wide eyes, “dada,” was the only word she said before babbling on again and they both stopped.

“Did she just?” Spencer was shocked and frozen still after asking.

Y/N sat up and looked right into Cordelia’s eyes, “who is that?” She pointed at Spencer.

“Dada!” She said it again and they were suddenly all squealing, even Cordelia was suddenly excited as she kept screaming dada over and over again.

“Can you say, mom? Or mama? Mummy?” Spencer tried his hardest to find an easy way for her to say it.

“Mumm,” she pushed her lips together to hum her M sound and Spencer was floored, he bounced her up and down a small amount as they cheered.

“Smartest girl in the world!” Spencer cheered her on before pulling her into another hug.

Y/N was crying softly, little tiny dreams that she didn’t even know she had were coming true every single day with them. She knew she wanted to be a mom when she was growing up, all those dreams died when her illness got worse and they all warned her that having kids would put her at risk of being moneyless and that working wasn’t an option to even support them. Let alone the threat of them taking them away just because of her autism or depression possibly being considered ‘too bad’ to care for them.

Spencer took all those fears and he kicked them out. Every day she got to experience the most precious gifts the world had to offer, her daughter was perfect and her husband was incredible. Together they were a perfect little family that ran on trust, love, and communication. Always talking, always hugging, always there for each other.

—

They crawl into bed much later than they expected to. Cordelia didn’t want to go to bed, she was trying her hardest to keep staying awake to spend time with them but eventually, sleep won. They finally placed her in her crib with her white noise and her complete darkness and closed her door for the next few hours of peace.

They both let out a deep sigh before rolling to face one another. “How was your day?” He asks, like always.

“Good,” she smiles, “I think having a kid and getting on her schedule was the best thing I’ve ever done actually, cause I’m sleeping on time, I’m eating when she does and I’m outside a lot more. She’s given me this purpose and it’s rewarding on my body.”

Spencer moves in so he can kiss her nose, “I love hearing that.”

“How was your class today?” She asks back, loving his little stories about all the 17 and 18-year-olds that were fascinated by him. As well as the kids who thought it was cool to try and pick on him before getting the shit verbally kicked out of them in front of the whole class.

It was interesting seeing him in a form of authority, he never really took charge at the BAU, she’s never seen him yell at his friends and he’s never really yelled at her either. He’s been incredibly calm, so to see him verbally tear someone apart by acknowledging their biggest flaws to make sense of why they feel the need to bully, it was pretty intense.

“They were a lot better today, they enjoyed the lesson and the kids that were giving me trouble skipped, I guess he really didn’t appreciate me calling him out that bad on Tuesday,” Spencer smirked, rolling his eyes like he cared.

“I still can’t believe that he thought it was okay to call you names in front of other students, where is the respect these days?”

“Well,” he’s about to do what he always does. He can never be truly mad at someone because he knows why everyone does what they do and that they can’t help it. “In his file, it says his parents are newly divorced, we get a list of all the kids information on the attendance like allergies and things, but also small info like life changes in case they act out.”

“Doesn’t mean he can call you the f slur,” she whispers, “all because you wore a purple shirt?”

“If I met his father I’d probably get an answer for that,” he adds, “if he’s afraid to show his emotions around his son, it’s probably why his son thinks colours are gay.”

It makes her laugh, “you look hot in purple too so I don’t see the problem?”

“Do I?” He teases, getting in even closer and pressing their bodies together.

She rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and leaning forward for a quick kiss, “I think you look sexy all the time.”

He kisses her as a thank you, “I think the same about you.”

“Even when I haven’t showered in 2 days because she cries if she can’t see me and she cries if she gets wet?” Y/N laughed, annoyed but in love with their little monster at the same time.

“Always,” he reminds her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kisses him again after.

There are probably a million more things to share from the day, but they spend their time kissing instead. It’s been too long since they’ve just rolled around in the sheets making out like they did in the beginning. Before they ever had sex, before they had kids and a house and a love as strong as they do now.

A part of them missed the early days when everything was new and exciting, but she also loved the fact that they knew each other so well that they didn’t have to communicate anymore. They ran like 1 unit, always completing the other person's thoughts, needs and wants. They were so unbelievably happy.

She wants him badly and he wants her just as much, and he’s about to take her when she pulls back. “Nope, as much as I love her I can’t get pregnant again for at least another year.”

It makes him laugh as he pulls away and rolls over to look through his nightstand for a condom, “it wouldn’t be that bad?”

“You carry it then, seahorse it up,” she teased. “I like being back on my medicine, I need some time to be okay before I go through all that again.”

Once he’s all situated in the latex and back between her legs, he hovers over her, so close that their lips are touching ever so slightly. “I am fine if it’s just the three of us forever.”

“I’m not,” she smiles, “there will be 4 of us one day, just not today.”

With that, she’s pulling him into another kiss as he pushing inside. It’s a feeling she’s accustomed to but will never be used to, it’s a stretch that shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is. She holds him closer as she plays with his tongue in her mouth.

He was so good at everything he did, especially the sex. He knew every single part of her body now and exactly how to push all her buttons the right way. She could live in the moment of his pumping in and out of her while his thumb circled her clit and his other hand groaned her breasts. Eventually, he kissed down her throat and she was a mess of breathy moans and low gasps.

Writing in the sheets, her legs wrap around him as she tried to pull him in even closer. It was impossible to get closer but he was still too far away, she wanted to absorb him and live in him forever. He was her safe place and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

As her orgasm bubbled, so did his. The both of them gasping and panting, she whined as she breached the edge and gripped his back, “Spence!”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered before fucking into her harder and faster, pushing her through it as he reached his own.

His movements on her clit never stopped and suddenly one felt like two and she wasn’t sure when the rush was going to stop and she didn’t care when it did. It was powerful, soothing and euphoric. A high she could live in for a while and return to it without problem as long as she had him.

He came with a small moan, trying to keep quiet as he muffled it into her neck, stilling his hips on his last thrust and dropping onto her more. Her hands were all over his back as she pressed kisses to his forehead, coming down but not wanting the love to stop there.

The love was never going to stop there for them. Their love was never-ending, and somehow as she held him there in her arms and felt his breath on his neck, she turned to see the baby monitor with their peaceful child sound asleep down the hall, she loved him even more now somehow.

Loving Spencer Reid was like falling down a bottomless pit. She never knew when she was going to reach the end, but she was content with falling.

smut taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[bokoutoe-retired]

#93 “people like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you”

characters; bakugou katsuki

synopsis; after overhearing a girls night conversation bakugou questions your relationship and a fight ensues.

total word count; 1398

warnings; some swearing, and a lil bit of angst with a fluffy ending

「a/n」 big thank you to @thisisgreatg for being my first dialogue propmt request 🥺 this turned out to be a lot longer than i thought it would be because i just kinda started word spewing. but after i went back and edited i think it turned out pretty good!! also i’ll put in a ‘keep reading’ once i’m back at my computer!

it’s widely known and all around accepted that every other saturday night is girls night in the heights alliance dorms. all the girls of 1-A gather in the common room to gossip, snack, and unwind after a long week packed full of hero course work. the seven of you throw yourselves across the two green couches and spare chairs. the coffee table stands in the center with a few snacks littered on top. the bigger of the two couches contains you, laid across the length of it with your head resting in minas lap. ochako sits curled up just past your feet, munching on a bag of chips.

“i guess mr. aizawa did say the test was going to be one of the hardest this year, but i still didn't expect todoroki to get one of the lowest grades!” momo is on the floor, leaned back between jirous legs, as she helps her brush out her freshly washed hair.

“but still, you and bakugou did really good as usual.” tsu nods at momo, leaning over from her place on one of the cushioned chairs to grab a leftover cookie.

“speaking of, y/n don’t you think bakugou is a little mean to you even though you're, you know, dating?” ochako stuffs a few more chips in her mouth as she looks over at you.

“i don’t think i’ve even seen him hold your hand,” jirou agrees without looking up from momo’s hair.

“y/n has he ever held your hand? or even ever given you a hug?!” mina seems to find the possibility that bakugou deprives you of affection quite absurd as she looks down at you, completely baffled.

“I haven’t really thought about it too much, but it’s not really that big of a deal…” you shrug up at mina and she continues to play with your hair, twirling a few strands around her fingers.

“it’s like you and him aren’t even dating if he treats you like that!” tooru says quite loudly. the long sleeves of her pajama shirt raise into the air and you assume she has her arms throw up in exasperation.

“well i wouldn't say-” you start.

“how are you supposed to be in a functioning relationship if he doesn’t even act like he likes you!?” toorus sleeves continue to flail around as she interrupts you.

“well i don’t really know, sometimes i do wish he was a little more affectionate, but that's just.. how he is, i guess.” you’re not really too sure what to say as you’ve never really put too much thought into it or even noticed.

“if that's how you feel y/n, i guess! but personally i’d want my partner to be…” minas words go in one ear and out the other, along with the rest of the conversations that night. the girls continue to talk grades and crushes, but you’re far too concerned with the previous conversation to be completely involved.

by the time the night is over, everythings cleaned up and you’re walking back to your dorm you’re left wondering, is there something wrong with your relationship?

~

normally, bakugou would be fast asleep by now, it’s well past 8:30pm. he tried to go back to sleep but after tossing and turning for nearly twenty minutes, he gave in. sleep was too far out of reach, but maybe a warm glass of water would help him settle back in for the night. bakugou was fully aware that tonight was ‘girls night’, but who were some shitty extras to tell him he couldn't get water. it’s his damn dorm building too! plus he’d be in and out. nobody would notice, so no harm no foul right? wrong. now he sits in his room almost a whole half an hour later, awake and replaying your conversation with the girls in his head.

he was walking back from the kitchen, glass of water in hand, and passed the common room at just the right moment. when he had walked by the first time, he had paid no mind to the topic of conversation being something about someone's muscles, nothing of interest to him. but hearing his name certainly was of interest. he stood in the hall, just out of sight line and listened as the girls (mostly mina and tooru) badger you with assumptions about your relationship with him. it left him thinking, did you think he wasn’t enough? did you want more for him? were you unhappy?

~

the next day was completely normal, most of your overthinking had ceased and you spent your sunday studying with bakugou in your room.

monday came and went for the most part, class had been long and tiring but you were excited to head back home. bakugou walked you from the main building back to heights alliance all the time and nothing was out of the ordinary until you felt a warm calloused hand slip into yours and grip just a little too tightly.

“what are you doing?” your head shoots over to look at him, you’re shocked to say the least.

“what does it look like i’m doing, idiot?” his head is turned away from you and he’s looking up but you can still see his furrowed brows and the cringe on his face.

“well, you just look really uncomfortable, and i don’t want you to-”

“make up your mind woman!” the warmth of his hand is replaced with empty air as he roughly rips his hand from yours, looking down at you angrily.

“katsuki, what are you talking about!” you stop walking and turn to face him.

“i said make up your mind! do you want me to touch you or do you not!” he flings his arms out in exasperation.

“of course i do! i’m dating you! but i’m not going to force you to!”

“if i can’t give you what you want, why are you even with me? people like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you!” it breaks your heart to hear him sound so broken and dejected. ”i heard you talking with your shitty friends about how you want me to be more affectionate”

“did you not hear me, stupid? i’m not going to force you to katsuki!” you feel yourself soften as you think of how guilty he must be feeling. “yes, it would be nice but if you’re not comfortable with it thats okay, it isn’t just about what i want”

“i just! i just don’t know how…” he trails off and averts his gaze from your face to the ground, his tense shoulders slump. you sigh, walk up to him, rest your hand on his arm, and guide him to start walking again.

“that’s okay, you don’t have to know. we can start off small, however you want, but we’ll work on it together if that's what you want?” your hand falls from his arm. you want to make sure he has his space until he’s ready.

“fine, but only because i want to!” he keeps walking, but he looks like he has more to say. “and because i love you and i want to try for you…” he mumbles, and you barely catch it but thank god you do. his words make your heart soar.

“i love you too, but you know you we’re doing a pretty good earlier, until you started yelling at me” you playful nudge him in the ribs with your elbow.

“tch, shut up woman.” he huffs out. you think that’s the end of it until you feel his knuckles brush yours, and then the weight of his fingers lacing with yours. you look up at him again but this time, instead of looking uncomfortable he has a faint blush dusting his cheeks. and maybe, just maybe the smallest hint of a smile gracing his lips.

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 8

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ; Part 6 ; Part 7

Masterlist

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

Part 8 –

49 days of summer camp left

Caroline sat in her bed, hugging her knees against her chest. Her and JJ had the afternoon off and despite his attempts to lure her into hanging out, and her infatuation with the boy, she’d turned him down, wanting to spend a few hours alone with herself to compose her thoughts. It had been exactly two weeks since the night Madison disappeared. No one had bothered to mess with the campers since then, the bonfire area hadn’t been touched and no dead animals were found in anyone’s suitcase. To the rest of the camp, this seemed like victory; to Caroline – it seemed like the calm before the storm.

During their first day at Camp Willowdale, all of the counselors had been given a Willowdale-branded set of items they’d have to use during their stay. It came with the obvious STAFF t-shirts, sweaters and hats, but it also consisted of other things – such as the thermoses Caroline and JJ were still using to sneak whiskey into their daily routines, and notebooks in which they were advised to plan out their group’s daily schedules. Caroline however had been using her notebook for other purposes. She’d become so obsessed with Madison’s case, that every little thing that happened on camp grounds and seemed even a little out of the ordinary, immediately became a clue to her, which she’d hastily scribble down in her notebook. It had only been two weeks since the disappearance of Madison Hague and Caroline had already filled about a quarter of the pages of her hefty notebook with potential clues and leads. She kept rereading her notes, trying to think of something – anything – that they could do to help them solve the mystery, however nothing was coming to her. Ever since the dress incident, Caroline and her friends hadn’t found anything else that could relate to Madison, though Caroline was glad that none of them had given up on their mission.

Caroline was so deep in her own thoughts, she nearly jumped at the sound of a sudden knock on the door. She quickly closed her notebook and tucked it under her mattress and went to open the door, revealing a panting JJ leaning on the doorframe.

“Hey, C,” he breathed.

“JJ, what’re you doing here? I told you I -”

JJ cut her off by pushing past her and walking into her cabin, “Yeah, yeah, you wanna be alone, I know,” he sat on her bed, taking his snapback off, “but I was thinking… you’ve been so busy with the kids and with the whole Madison thing, and believe me – I really appreciate you for being like that, but -”

Caroline crossed her arms, “Where are you going with this?”

JJ sighed, “You’ve just totally forgotten how to have fun, C,” he said, “The primary reason that we all came here was to have fun and look at you – you barely eat, or sleep, or do anything other than your counselor duties and this whole Madison investigation thing…” JJ sighed again, looking at the hat in his lap and playing with its adjustable strap, “All I’m saying, C, is what if Madison really did go home and you’ve just wasted all this energy on nothing…Thing is,” JJ looked up into her eyes, “I miss you, the old you, and I know that that you’s still somewhere in there, it’s just this whole Madison thing blocking it.” he placed the hat back on his head and stood up, walking towards Caroline, “Hang out with me now,” he said, stopping directly in front of her and lifting her chin up so that she was facing him, “And I promise we’ll think about Madison later,”

Caroline couldn’t really process what was going on. JJ was touching her and standing in such an intimate distance from her, that she could basically feel his breath on her face. For a second she forgot all about Madison, and the dead owl, and the bonfire area. All she could think about was JJ Maybank, who had just told her that he misses her and wants to “hang out with her”. Caroline stood there, lost in thought. What if he was right? What if Madison really did go home and that dress never even belonged to her? What if it was Jenna Kinley’s all along and Sarah had just gotten the perfume wrong? What if JJ really did miss her because he liked her as more than a friend? No, no, that couldn’t be it. But what if –

“Um, Carrie?” JJ’s voice suddenly broke her out of her trans, “So d’you wanna do something together or -”

“Yes!” she said, a little too excitedly for her own taste, of course I’d like to hang out with you, JJ, she thought, “What do you want to do?”

JJ’s face immediately lit up at her words, “Well I was thinking perhaps a picnic?”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, “Don’t picnics require food? We don’t have access to anything unless it’s mealtime,”

“Yeah, but we do have whiskey,” JJ winked with a mischievous look on his face, walking towards the storage room of the girls’ cabin where they still had a few bottles of alcohol left.

Caroline rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless – this was going to finally be her first date with JJ Maybank. Well, sort of.

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

The afternoon sun was low in the sky, casting a beautiful orange reflection onto the peaceful water of lake Willowdale. Caroline and JJ had taken a seat on the lakefront, drinking their whiskeys and admiring the sunset, reminiscing the days when they were kids again.

“D’you remember that one summer when Rafe Cameron got food poisoning and ended up barfing on stage at the Will-all-hail banquet?” JJ laughed at the memory.

Caroline frowned, thinking about it, “Beats having Rafe Cameron as your counselor by a mile,”

JJ turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, “Rafe was a counselor here?” his tone almost sounding amused.

Caroline nodded, “Oh yeah,” she smirked, “For the same reason as Sarah – too stuck up for his own good so their dad shipped him over here as a punishment,”

JJ snorted, “I mean that family is pretty far up their own ass,”

“They have a sister too,” said Caroline, “I haven’t seen her around here though, so we at least know that one of them must be doing something right,”

The pair laughed at the thought of their spoiled friend and her older brother.

“Man, I missed this place,” said JJ suddenly, leaning back on his elbows.

His tone sounded different as he looked at the horizon and Caroline could sense that something wasn’t right, “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask -”

“Parents got divorced,” JJ quickly explained, “And unfortunately for me, my dad got custody,” he sighed, “Somehow my mom was deemed ‘incapable’ of taking care of me because she couldn’t financially afford to. Load of bullshit, if you ask me,”

“But my mom -”

“Yeah, they still talk,” said JJ, knowing what Caroline was about to say, “I still see my mom every other weekend, you know, it’s not the end of the world,” he smiled at Caroline reassuringly, “It’s just living with my old man meant working for my cut at home, which also meant summer jobs back in Kildare,”

“So that’s where you’ve been all this time…” whispered Caroline, mostly to herself, however JJ heard her.

“Yeah,” he responded, “Now that I’m old enough to be a counselor here and actually get paid for coming to summer camp I thought why not? Besides, your mom did tip mine off that you’d be here too,” he winked at Caroline, making her blush.

“Yeah, about that,” she said apologetically, “My mom likes to yap a lot, I wouldn’t take most of what she says seriously,”

“Well you are here, aren’t you?” said JJ, his face slightly leaning in towards Caroline’s.

Holy shit, this was it. Caroline was about to kiss JJ Maybank after a decade of fawning over him. Shit, shit, shit, she hadn’t really kissed anyone since that idiot from her class planted one on her at prom. What if she was a bad kisser? What if she’d forgotten how to kiss? As JJ closed his eyes and leaned even closer, Caroline decided to push the doubtful thoughts to the side as she closed her eyes too, leaning in towards him too. Their faces were inches apart, hearts pounding in their chests and, just as their lips were finally about to meet –

“There you are!” Sarah’s loud voice came from the hill behind them, startling them and making them both jump and immediately pull apart and straighten up. John B stumbled after her.

Caroline coughed awkwardly, trying to cover up the shame and embarrassment she was currently feeling, “Sarah… what are you doing here?”

With a knowing smirk on her face, Sarah put both hands on her hips, “Nothing,” she sing-sang, obviously finding the whole situation hilarious, “I’m sure it can wait,” she winked down at Caroline, while John B was waving around frantically behind Sarah at JJ, mouthing the words “DID YOU BONE?!” quite obviously.

JJ groaned as he stood up, helping Caroline up as well, “We’re all yours now, Sarah, what’s up?”

“Well me and John B had the afternoon free as well, so we went out front to his van and you’ll never believe what was taped to the door,”

“Wait, why’d you go to his van in the first place?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “That’s beside the point now, Carrie, look” she shoved a piece of paper in the girl’s hands.

As Caroline unfolded the paper, the group gathered around her to look at what was written on it - 41° 56’ 54.3732” N, 87° 39’ 19.2024” W.

“I have no idea what that means though,” confessed Sarah.

“Looks like coordinates to me,” said JJ.

“Hey, that’s what I said!” gasped John B, “But Sarah didn’t want to believe me,”

“Does anyone know how to read geographical coordinates?” JJ looked at his friends.

“Do I look like Google Maps to you?” asked Sarah.

“You’re right,” Caroline said as an idea sparked in her mind, “We can’t read coordinates, but I know someone who can,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“I’m just saying, Miss P,” JJ spoke confidently once the group was inside Pricilla’s office, “Now’s about the best time to host the traditional yearly treasure hunt,”

Pricilla squinted up at JJ through her pink glasses from where she was sat at her desk, “Keep talking, Maybank,”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that it’s already been two weeks and none of these kids can read a compass yet?” continued JJ, earning a slow nod from the camp director, “Think about it, Miss P – Willowdale ain’t Willowdale without its treasure hunt,”

As JJ spoke, the rest of the group were silently praying behind him that his charismatic way with manipulating will work on Pricilla, giving them an excuse to ask her to decipher the mysterious coordinates they had gotten their hands onto. The old lady leaned back in her old leather chair and looked at JJ skeptically for a while, adding to the already built up tension.

“Give me a few days to map out the course and set up the coordinates,” she finally spoke, causing everyone in the group to silently cheer behind JJ. As they thanked her and turned to leave, she spoke up again, “Oh, and Maybank,” she called, everyone turning to look at her, “No funny business,”

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

A/N: Finally some normal camp activities. Thank you for reading so far, I would greatly appreciate you letting me know what you think about the story and the characters xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04 ; @dumbasscorn ; @thrown-off-her-rhythm