#now if I can teach them 'quiet' my ears would be ever so grateful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tobesolonely · 4 years ago

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kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen.

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here.

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.”

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard.

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day.

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod.

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up.

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were.

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions.

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.”

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee.

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids.

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up.

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.”

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard.

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time.

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him.

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures.

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin.

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate.

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous.

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face.

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.”

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.”

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne.

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out.

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?”

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?”

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library.

“You don’t know your address yet?”

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.”

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier.

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.”

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’”

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.”

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened.

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––”

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA.

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement.

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious.

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before.

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?”

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything.

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment.

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you.

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it.

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.”

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing.

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock.

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #teacher!h

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fandom-monium · 4 years ago

Note

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

Unrivaled

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

WC: 3.6k

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

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be?

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

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

With the new intern.

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

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

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

But he’s not jealous.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

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

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

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

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

"How is that relevant—"

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

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

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

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

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

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

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

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

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

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that.

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

That was the last straw.

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

"Hey, you good?"

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

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

"Did I? Weird."

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

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

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

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

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

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

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

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

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

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

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

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

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

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

"We'll talk about that later."

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

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

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

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

"You could just call me St―"

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

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

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

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

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

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's so in love with you.

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

"Pfft―"

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

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

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

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

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

"That's kinda hot."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

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

“I know, I’m sorry.”

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

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

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

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

―

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

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

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

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

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

#spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #mgg fic #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader

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talatomaz · 4 years ago

Text

lockdown | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i can’t believe that a year ago today, the last ever episode of criminal minds aired. i miss jj so much 🤧

this is sort of in line with my own experiences (to a certain extent). and there’s not as much jj x d!r as i’d intended but I hope you still like it.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by @ouat2017 : “could you do a jj x daughter where the daughter’s school is on lockdown and jj is worried or something like that?”

warnings: gun violence. blood

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 18 year old adopted daughter and suddenly finds herself on lockdown after someone brings a gun into her school

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Look, you’re the one that needs to be tutored so can you please focus?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.

You were currently in the tutoring centre trying to help a self-absorbed jock pass English so he could remain on the school’s football team.

Looking around you, you saw a handful of students giving both you and Cameron - the man-child you were tutoring - disparaging looks.

“You’re not supposed to be yelling at me. You’re meant to be telling me the answers.”

The aforementioned narcissist leaned against his chair, smirking at you in a way that made you fight to hide a shudder.

You could have easily wiped the grin off his face by mentioning who your mother was and who she worked for but instead, you decided to just continue ignoring his advances and carry on teaching him.

“That’s not how this works, Cameron. Now either you listen to me or you fail and get kicked off the team. And quite frankly, I’d rather the latter happen.”

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion. Sighing, you answered, “latter means the second thing of two things mentioned in a sentence. Now, for the love of God, just finish writing your paragraph on Heller's satire of capitalism in Catch-22.”

You let out a breath of relief when he finally relented and started to scribble on his sheet of paper. You glanced over at one of your friends, who was also tutoring for extra credit, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at Cameron’s actions.

Leaning against the large desk that stood at the front of the room, you relished in the long-awaited silence aside from hushed whispers that came from other students asking for help.

Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen to see that it was only midday and soon the lunch bell would be ringing.

You smiled softly at your lock screen.

It was a photo of you and JJ, your adoptive mother.

It was taken a few weeks prior at your 18th birthday party. You’d been living with JJ for almost 5 years now; her having fostered you before later adopting you when you were 14.

You still didn’t know what she saw in you on that day you’d first met her - you’d lost your family in a home invasion, barely surviving yourself - but whatever it was, you were grateful because you’d gotten a second chance at life.

Several minutes passed and you’d only broken from your train of thought when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your friend, the one who’d rolled her eyes earlier at Cameron, standing beside you.

“I see you finally got him to do his work.” She whispered, loud enough for your ears only.

“Barely. He still has an essay to write and hasn’t even finished a paragraph yet.”

“I would have smacked his sorry ass by now.”

You laughed before clamping your hand over your mouth, her comment having caught you off guard.

“Ally!” You whisper-shouted, playfully hitting her arm.

She looked at you with a raised eyebrow causing you to smirk, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it but-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a large bang rang out, shattering the silence the room had once held.

With wide eyes, your head whipped to the door where the gunshot had presumably come from and you listened as the hallways were filled with panicked screams.

Running to the door, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students behind you, you turned the lock on the door, pulled down the blinds, switched off the lights and jammed a chair under the handle.

Looking up, you saw everyone had the same look of panic in their eyes; a few were crying, including Ally, and others were pale with shock, Cameron was one of them.

“Guys, we’re gonna be okay but we have to be quiet.” You whispered harshly, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door, listening for any indication of the shooter coming your way.

Everyone stared at you, as if you were the leader of a camp and they were small children awaiting for further instruction.

You supposed it wasn’t far off.

By taking charge, you were the one who’d been unwillingly given the role of protector.

“First things first,” you walked over to the group of 10 students, “I need you all to make sure your phones are on silent. We can’t risk being caught.”

You watched as everyone followed your instructions.

“I know you all want to call your parents but that’s going to attract attention to us so for right now, we need to be quiet.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest and as you spoke, one thought repeated in your head. JJ.

Taking out your phone, you scrolled to find your mother’s name in your contacts. You watched as your thumb hovered over her name.

Just breathe, y/n. Breathe.

Tapping your mother’s name, you brought the phone to your ear.

“I thought you said we couldn’t call anyone.”

Your eyes locked onto Cameron’s, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror and a hint of anger.

“My Mum works for the FBI.” You whispered as the phone rang out.

Any other time and you probably would have laughed at the way his face grew paler, if that was even possible. But, in a situation this tense, it was going to be difficult to find any levity.

Your Mum picked up on the second ring and you let out a shaky breath when you heard her voice.

“Hi baby. A bit early for your lunch, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes at her soft tone, as if you were trying to engrave the way she spoke into your mind lest you would never hear it again.

From your lack of response, the blonde sensed there was something up, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

A single tear dropped down your cheek as you struggled to maintain a steady tone. Catching a glimpse of Ally staring at you, you steeled yourself and spoke.

“Mum, you need to come quick. Someone’s brought a gun into school.”

“Oh my-AARON.”

You winced when you heard her shout for her boss, listening as you could hear her run up stairs. You held your breath as she filled Hotch in on what was happening before telling Garcia to hack into your school’s security system.

“Are you okay? Stupid question. But are you hurt?”

“Mum,” you interrupted her rambling, “I’m fine. I’m in the tutoring centre with 10 other people. I don’t know how many people are injured. It just all happened so fast.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

Though you could hear the clear panic in her voice, her words did bring some form of reassurance to you.

“Penelope’s hacking into the system so hopefully she can have eyes soon.”

As she spoke, you could hear the clacking of keys in the background of the call; presumably Garcia doing exactly what JJ said.

“Mum?” You questioned when you heard Garcia swear.

Instead of JJ answering, the usually peppy tech analyst replied, her voice shaky and wet, as if she was crying.

“Y/N, thank God you’re okay.”

“What’s wrong, Garcia?”

“Someone’s disabled the cameras remotely. I can only get them back online if someone reprograms them from the inside.”

Grasping what she was explaining, you nodded, “I’ll fix them.”

“What? No!”

Your mother had taken the phone off of Garcia.

“You are not leaving that room, y/n. We’ll find another way in.”

“Mum, someone needs to fix the system from inside the school. I need to do it.”

Ignoring your mother’s worried shouts, you continued to speak, “Mum, I have to. I love you.”

You disconnected the phone and switched it off, preventing her from being able to call you back.

“Y/N, you are not leaving this room.”

You’d only just realised that everyone had been watching you intently during that entire interaction.

“Yes, I am.”

Moving away from the huddle, you rose to your feet and replied to your friend.

Cameron rose to his feet and towered over you as he challenged you, “No, you are not. You’re going to put us in danger.”

“Do you know how to hack into our school’s security system and then reconnect the transformer and enter the Mastercode?”

His face contorted to a look of confusion making you reply,

“Exactly.”

Turning to leave, you felt a large hand enclose around your arm.

“I said, you’re not leaving.”

Your eyes flickered from Cameron’s hand up to his face that dared you to take another step.

“Remove your hand from my arm before I remove your hand from your body. You may letter in football but I’ve been trained by some of the best FBI agents there are and unless you want to end up in a sleeper hold, I suggest you shut up and do what I say for once.”

His harsh grip almost immediately lessened as his hand returned to his side.

“Good. Now, have any of you been shot? No? I didn’t think so. Well, I have and whoever did get shot is probably bleeding out in the hallway. I can’t not do anything.”

No one dared to respond and instead, shook their head ‘no’ at your asking if anyone else would try to stop you.

Content that you weren’t going to deal with any more unnecessary distractions, you made your way to the door and gently removed the chair that was beneath the handle.

“Ally, you’re in charge. Lock the door when I leave. By my count, the FBI will be here soon. And Cameron, you do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Unlocking the door, you stepped out into the empty hallway and hastily made your way to where the main security hub was located.

Just a couple of hours ago, all you had wished for was silence but now that your wish had been granted, all you wanted was to hear the playful shouts and conversations between your friends and fellow students.

The silence that currently fell on your school was unnerving and unbearable. And with each step you took, you flinched at the sound your shoes made against the marble floor. Each noise practically acting as a beacon for the shooter to come find you.

You let out a sigh of relief when you found the Hub and you quickly worked to reconnect the security system. Typing on the laptop that rested atop one of the servers, you couldn’t help the smile that formed when all the cameras re-engaged.

Tapping on one of the keys, you navigated through the various cameras, looking for any indication of the shooter or of any injured people. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of someone.

Squinting at the screen, you saw, what appeared to be a freshman - since you didn’t recognise him as being a part of your year - laying on the ground, a hand clutching his stomach as blood coated his clothing.

Immediately knowing where he was, you cautiously made your way to the east hallway before running when you noticed him laying on the ground, his blood coating the once-white marble floor.

Falling to your knees, you pressed your hands against his wound, trying to stop the steady flow. He groaned out in pain, tears staining his face.

“H-Help me.” He choked out.

“What’s your name?”

“Jackson. But everyone c-calls me J-Jack.”

“Jack, you’re going to be okay. I just need you stay with me, okay? I’m-”

“Y/N.”

You failed to hide the surprise from your face making the younger teen smile despite his predicament.

“You’re t-tutoring Cameron. Everyone knows who you are. Y-You’re the one who doesn’t take any of his shit. I think h-he likes you.”

“Well, tough shit for him. I may be bi but he’s definitely not my type.”

Jack’s laugh quickly turned into another groan of pain.

Unzipping your jacket with one hand, you used the other to keep pressure on his wound. After removing the jacket, you harshly pressed it against his torso and watched as it barely absorbed the blood.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” You said, tears filling in your eyes as memories rushed back of when you tried to save your brother after he’d been shot.

“You’re going to be okay. I just need you to-”

You stilled when you heard footsteps come up behind you.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You didn’t recognise the voice and couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to face the person who’d caused all this pain.

You opened your mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for your inevitable death when a shot rang out and a body slumped to the ground beside you.

Jumping at the action, you turned around and almost collapsed in relief at what you saw. Your Mum and her team stood behind you with several SWAT members flanking them.

The tears that had once filled your eyes now spilled shamelessly down your cheeks.

Without saying a word, JJ holstered her gun and ran to your side, hugging you as best she could since your hands were still pressed against Jack’s wound.

Paramedics soon followed and after that it was all a blur. It was as if you were floating outside of your body. Logically, you knew it was the effects of an adrenaline crash but you felt so disconnected from your body.

You barely took note as your mother gently lifted you to your feet, allowing you to be briefly looked over by the paramedics. Nor as your mother escorted you to one of the school bathrooms where she rinsed the blood off your hands.

You didn’t even say a word until you’d arrived back at the BAU where a worried Penelope wrapped you in a tight hug which you returned.

“I’m gonna take her up to my old office, Hotch.”

The Unit Chief simply nodded as he and the rest of the team watched as JJ led you to the abandoned office that was still filled with random case files.

Closing the door, she sat you down on her sofa and stared at you, not touching you in fear that even a simple caress would cause you to shatter.

You exhaled a long breath before finally speaking, “I’m sorry.”

Her brows narrowed, “Sorry? Sweetheart, why?”

You looked at your hands that had been coated in blood less than an hour before and then up at your mother; her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern, love and confusion.

“You told me not to leave and I did. I’m sorry.”

And with that, you started to cry heart-wrenching sobs that made your shoulders shake.

JJ gathered you in her arms, gently rocking you as her long blonde hair draped over you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

Her arms wrapped tightly around you as she laid soft kisses on your head, her hand stroking your back.

That only served to make you burrow into her even more, seeking comfort in her motherly embrace.

You muttered your apologies as she continued to reassure you that you were okay.

JJ was afraid that if she stopped, you wouldn’t be here, safe in her arms.

Still rocking you in her arms, she whispered in your ear,

“I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

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flightlessangelwings · 4 years ago

Text

Grant a Name to a Buried and a Burning Flame ~ Chapter 1

Hades!Din Djarin x Persephone!Reader (gender neutral, no y/n)

Chapter 1/3

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Hades/Persephone retelling, historical setting, hints of soulmate AU, arranged marriage, slight angst, some fluff, mutual pining

Thank you to @ollypopp for letting me bounce ideas and talk my thoughts out and thank you to my wonderful partner @we-can-be-himbos for beta reading for me!

Moodboard made by me

“Persephone!”

You turned your head toward the voice that called your name. It wasn’t your birth name, but once you became of age you were assigned the name and your real name was never used in public anymore. No one remembered how or why it started, but it became tradition for every royal to assume the name of an Old God as a title and signifier of their status. Most took to it and even forgot their birth names, but you made sure that you used your real name when you were alone with yourself.

Some maybe wanted to forget and embrace their role in life, but you didn’t want to forget. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t even want this role. But, you were born into it and as soon as you were old enough, you were prepared for the day you would lead your kingdom. You were good at it for sure, and leading came naturally to you, but you didn’t feel like this was your calling. You didn’t even feel like this was truly a home to you, even as beautiful as the land was.

The voice belonged to your mother, Demeter, who found you in the garden again. It’s where she usually found you: alone in the peace and quiet, surrounded by your favorite flowers. Flowers always lined your chiton and served as decorative accents to the long robe you typically wore. Sometimes, you even tucked one behind your ear as well. The beauty of the harvest and forests were one of the only comforts to your kingdom. Otherwise, it all just felt lonely to you, and like you didn’t truly belong there.

“Yes mother?” you rolled your eyes before you turned to face her. You already knew what she came to see you about and you dreaded it.

“Persephone you know you can’t spend all your time out here. You have responsibilities,” she always pushed your royal duties on you and then some, and you hated it. She always seemed more concerned for what you could offer her than what you were as a person, and it got under your skin more than you liked to admit.

You felt trapped in your role, in your kingdom. With a defeated sigh, you decided not to argue with her this time, “Yes mother.”

It was another several days before you could sneak out to your garden again, and you felt smothered every minute you stayed within the walls of the palace. It was lavish and beautiful, and the sun always shone through the windows, but you still felt suffocated. With a deep breath, you took in the fresh air and plucked your favorite flower from a nearby bush. As you exhaled you whispered your name, a habit you got yourself into so that you would never forget it. At times, your mother had trouble remembering her birth name, and you didn’t want that for yourself.

As you gazed down the horizon, you suddenly felt a pull to run past the gate that separated your palace and garden from the rest of the kingdom. It was as if a voice inside your head screamed at you to get out, to leave and never look back. You had heard that voice before, and you almost gave in several times. But you always stopped yourself just before you stepped over the threshold. Before you even realized your movements, you moved forward until your body lined up with the border.

Beyond the lush of your own kingdom lay a more barren land, and you could see the darkness shadow in the distance. It should have scared you, you should have wanted to stay away from it. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel a pull towards it instead. The kingdom in the distance was the complete opposite of yours: where yours was sunny and colorful, the other land was dark and dull. It looked as if the land was lifeless, though you knew it had a daily large population.

You looked back over your shoulder, and when you didn’t see anyone, you finally took the next step.

Once you started, you couldn’t stop and you ran as fast as you could. For the first time in your adult life, you felt free. Some of your flowers fell off in your haste, but plenty more still decorated your figure. The one that you had tucked behind your ear stayed somehow, and since it was your favorite you were grateful for that little comfort. The weight of your royal title felt far away, and you could just be you. Even as the darkness and emptiness of the land surrounded you more and more, you embraced it.

It was a quiet land, and you stayed in the forests and away from any villages to stay hidden. The trees were so dark they were almost black, and hardly any vegetation grew on them. You became more aware of how much you stood out here; a lone flower among the dirt, a lone light in the darkness. Nevertheless, you kept on the move.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, and you spun around to find that you were no longer alone in the dark forest. A hooded figure emerged from the shadows, and though it didn’t seem to move quickly, it still somehow ended up in your space before you realized it. You let out a gasp as the figure reached out and grabbed your arm, and even this close, you couldn’t see a face. The flower that was securely tucked behind your ear fell to the ground from your sudden harsh movement.

“What are you doing here?” the hooded figure asked. His voice was deep and gruff, yet void of any malice. His hood completely covered his face, and from this close you could see that he also donned a mask for added anonymity. On his belt, he carried several weapons, and the deep black sword especially stood out. You could also see the armor he wore over his robes glisten in the low light. This was obviously someone you did not want to mess with.

“I…” you were at a loss for words. What could you say? It wasn’t like you wanted to divulge who you were or that you ran away from your kingdom. But you also didn’t want to seem like someone who had gotten lost in the woods either.

“Aren’t you a long way from home… Persephone?” you heard the slight smirk in his voice. He kept a grip on your arm, but it didn’t feel like a threat for some reason.

Your eyes went wide; how did he know who you were? Maybe you should have grabbed a cloak or something so that your features were hidden, but it was too late for that now. Strangely, you didn’t feel as scared as you should have been around him. It almost felt as if the voice in your head that pulled you forward led you right to him. Was that how he found you too? Was there a voice that pulled him as well?

In the distance, you could hear the howls of wolves: the Cerberus. Legend had it that a pack of black-fured wolves guarded the border to the kingdom. Some would even say that it wasn’t even an entire wolf pack, but just three unusually large dogs. Those who have glimpsed it say that they move as one, appearing as if they were one large beast with three heads.

The hooded stranger took your silence as an answer on its own and ushered you through the forest and away from the howls, “Come with me,” he spoke in a low tone. He left it unsaid, but he felt an immediate need to protect you and keep you safe, and that started with getting you out of the darkened woods.

It felt like a whirlwind, and you couldn’t even react as he led you to an unknown destination. As the outline of a dark castle came into view, realization dawned on you and you figured out who had found you, “Hades…” you breathed out.

He let out a single sharp laugh, “You’re smarter than you look,” he replied.

Hades was both well known and a complete mystery to everyone, even other royals. His kingdom was shrouded in shadow, the night to the day that was your own kingdom. He had a reputation for being a loner, and he was ruthless to any enemy who stood in his way. And no one had ever seen his face. You wondered if he even remembered his real name or if he was among those who had forgotten it.

Rumor was that he belonged to an ancient sect, the Mandalorians if you remembered correctly, and it was part of their teachings to never show their faces, but no one knew for sure. For the most part, Hades’ kingdom, the Underworld as it was nicknamed, was left alone. And that was how everyone preferred it.

You tried to struggle, but his grip was too strong, and though he did not hold you hard enough to hurt, you still failed to break yourself free. How did you find yourself so easily taken by Hades? Technically you did run away and into his territory, so were you really his prisoner? He did not seem interested in harming you, but he did not seem to want to release you so easily either.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he seemed to sense your hesitation and in his words he spoke the truth. He would never hurt you, not when he just found you.

His words took you off guard and you looked into the blackness of his hood, “Then why don’t you let me go?” you offered back in as confident a voice as you could muster.

At that, he said nothing. You let out a dramatic sigh as you decided not to struggle for the time being. As your eyes darted around, you became increasingly aware of how much you contrasted your new surroundings. Everything was dark and plain compared to the robe adorned with flowers you wore. And yet, something about Hades’ palace was almost comforting in a strange way. Maybe it was because nothing about the castle was exactly lavish. It seemed to exist only for utility and not for show like your own palace was. It was much smaller than your own as well.

“Stay here,” he broke the silence as he left you in a small room and disappeared through the doorway.

There wasn’t much to the room, just a table with a bowl of fruits on it and a couple of chairs. As you eyed the bowl, your stomach started to growl and it dawned on you that you hadn’t eaten in some time. You looked around as you wondered if you should eat some of the food on the table. He had left you in a room with the bowl, which had to be on purpose, and he didn’t explicitly say that you couldn’t.

With a shrug, you decided that a little snack couldn’t hurt anybody. Besides, who knew how long you would be here? You grabbed the brightest thing on the table: a handful of pomegranate seeds. They were surprisingly tasty, and you wondered how something this luscious grew in such an unforgiving land.

You had no idea how long you stayed in that little room. It was hard to tell the difference between night and day in this kingdom, but eventually you relaxed into one of the chairs and drifted off.

When you woke up again, you were in a different room and laid out in a soft bed. You furrowed your brown in confusion before you shot up to stand. The room was small; there was only space for a bed and a dresser with a small bathroom attached. One thing that did catch your eye, however, was there was a single flower laid out on the dresser. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was your favorite: similar to the one you had tucked behind your ear when you first encountered Hades. But, you could tell it was not the same one.

“What…?” you whispered to yourself as you picked up the flower and rolled it gently in your hands.

Your thoughts were interrupted, however, when the door to the room suddenly burst open and Hades’ hooded figure stepped into the room. The two of you just stared at each other in silence for several long minutes. Your mind went in a thousand directions as you looked into the abyss of his face and you wondered what was going through his mind. Faintly, you also realized that the pull you had felt for so long as stopped now that he was in front of you.

“You like the flower?” he finally asked in a raspy voice.

“I… Yes,” you fiddled with it as you stuttered, surprised that the gift was from him.

He let out a soft laugh that you wouldn’t have heard had the room not been so quiet. It was a nice laugh, and it made you wonder if the rumors about him were all wrong. Sure he was an intimidating figure when you first met, but he seemed to be nothing but kind to you, even if he was your captor. Is that what he was? Ever since you left home, everything felt so strange and so upside down that you weren’t even sure about your current predicament. And yet, you didn’t feel afraid. This man was armed head to toe, and yet you felt completely safe with him.

“Follow me,” he broke the silence again as he stepped just outside the door.

You blinked a few times before you set the flower down and did as you were told, “How long was I asleep?” you asked as you fell into line a few steps behind him.

“All night,” he replied shortly. Both of you were silent after that.

He led you down a hallway into a larger chamber that was beautifully lit with candles. Your mouth hung open at the sight, and the light was a welcome warmth after all the darkness that engulfed you since you were brought here. A man in a white robe stood at an altar at the end of the room and it took you a moment to recognize that your mother and father stood nearby. Demeter had a sullen look on her face while your father remained stoic.

“What is going on?” you asked, since no one wanted to break the tense silence in the room.

“We’re getting married,” Hades replied matter-of-factly. When you just stared at him, he continued, “Your father arranged it so that we can unite our kingdoms in peace.”

You were too dumbfounded to say anything and the ceremony went by in a blur. It was mostly a formality, nothing special or extravagant. It wasn’t that you were opposed to marriage, but you certainly did not think you would end up married like this. Sure it happened at times to unite kingdoms or bring peace to warring lands, but you had been groomed since childhood to take over the throne yourself, not get married off.

“Why did you have to do this, Persephone?” Demeter shook your shoulders once the vows were exchanged, “Why couldn’t you just listen to me and do your duty? Why did you have to eat the seeds?” she berated you with questions and you wanted nothing more than to run away again.

Truthfully, you didn’t even think of the consequences when you ate the pomegranate seeds, but Hades had argued that since you ate food from his kingdom and accepted his gift of the flower that you were bound to his land now. But, he struck a deal with your father that you could return home for half of the year if you ruled the Underworld at his side.

Rage burned within you as your mind caught up to your body. You felt used and tricked, which you expected from your parents, but not from your newly found companion. Why did you hold him in a higher regard than them? You didn’t think too much about it and shook the thought from your head. You ran away to escape the life that was expected of you, not to fall further into it. With a huff, you stormed out of the chamber and back into the room that you had woken up in.

You slammed the door shut behind you and leaned back against it with your eyes closed as tears of anger slowly fell down your cheeks. With a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you opened your eyes again and almost immediately they landed on the flower. What was once a beautiful gift now became an ugly reminder of your situation. You stomped over and grabbed the flower harshly and opened the window to throw it out.

Just as you were about to swing your arm, however, you froze. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You tightened your grip on the flower as you tried again to throw it out, and again you couldn’t do it. With a defeated huff, you tossed it onto the dresser instead and collapsed onto your bed.

Your bed?

You closed your eyes as you thought about what would happen next. A thousand questions ran through your mind. You could run away again, but where would you go? Was this any better than what you came from? Was it worse? Why did this Hades marry you so quickly after meeting once? Why were you more angry about not being consulted about this than being married to him? Why did you feel this pull to him? Did he feel that pull towards you?

Eventually your mind was able to quiet itself and you drifted off to sleep. Between your emotions and the way your mind raced, you found yourself exhausted already. And you just wanted to escape this realm for a little while and just dream. When you dreamed, you dreamed about him.

What you didn’t know, however, was that everything you had felt was reflected in the blank stare of Hades’ hood. He found you in the forest because he felt a pull towards you; a pull he had felt every time he looked in the direction of your kingdom. To finally see you in person was more than he could have asked for, and he was captivated by you immediately. You couldn’t see it, but underneath the hood, he had a look of pure adoration for you. And more nights than not, he dreamed of you. In those dreams too, you always used his real name: Din Djarin.

Notes: I hope y’all like what I came up with for this AU. I didn’t want to do a strait retelling and I took some creative liberties with this to make it unique. Chapters 2 and 3 are drafted and I’ll be updating this on Mondays so there won’t be a long wait for chapter 2. And I normally wouldn’t be specific about the pomegranates since not everyone likes them but since that’s a big part of the myth, I had to put it in here lol.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djaren x you

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nanasparadise · 3 years ago

Text

“Imprisonment” Yan!Jolyne x female reader

This blog was in dire need of some wlw content. In that sense, I hope you had a happy pride month and enjoy this piece!

Summary: You are the target of many inmates in Green Dolphin. That changes when Jolyne becomes your cellmate, for the better or worse.

TW: toxic relationship, prison, bullying, violence, insults, threats, slight gore (ear mutilation), noncon kiss, allusions to NSFW, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 2853

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

„Get your ass moving, girl!”

You truly hated it here. A day spent at Green Dolphin felt like being ten years in hell. The queue in the prison cafeteria moved forward quickly, since everyone got the same horrible food. As you hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d received rude comments. At this point, you didn’t care about the insults anymore. You were used to them, you had no affiliation with anyone here, meaning the other inmates saw you as fair game. In addition to your nature as a pushover, you weren’t surprised to be the target of many prisoner’s sadistic streak.

You took your tray containing your lunch – a portion of rather questionable meat and some mashed potatoes – and went to your solitary table. A blissful sigh escaped your lips when you finally were alone in your corner. No, worse than any insults or solitude were the threats, hidden under fake smiles. Not a single day went without them. You always were forced to do ‘voluntary tasks’ for the designated mean girls of Green Dolphin or ‘lend’ them money. It was humiliating, really, but you didn’t want to end up beaten to death in your cell, so you followed their instructions.

Once you completed the laundry task, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, hoping to find an interesting enough book to teleport you away for a couple hours from your harsh reality. You settled into the couch with a novel in your hands, enjoying this slight moment of calmness. Your peace was short-lived though as a blonde woman approached you, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Oh no, you knew where this would go.

“Hi! How are you doing today?”, she greeted you with a fake happiness swinging in her tone.

“Fine”, you mumbled quietly, not being able to assert yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that!,” she replied, though you knew she didn’t give a shit about your well-being, “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you again, but could you give me ten dollars? I need them for something very important and you’ll get them back in no time!” She batted her eyelashes at you, seemingly coming across as innocent.

“I would, but I forgot the money in my cell”, you countered, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Then stand up and get it.” Her voice had already shifted into a menacing tone, eyes gleaming like a predator.

“I don’t know if I-“

“Y/N, that was your name, right? Well, if you don’t get me my money, our friendship will be ruined and you’re aware of the consequences of that, aren’t you?”, your fellow inmate replied while pulling you by the collar of your uniform up from the couch.

“Right…,” you whispered, accepting your defeat, “I’ll get it for you.”

“Awesome!,” the blonde chirped, all sunshine and rainbows again, “I’ll wait for you here, just don’t take too long.”

That was how your life went. You didn’t complain too much, you knew it could be way worse than that. And it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice to change it anyway. You weren’t going to be released from prison in the next twenty five years. “So just accept it and move on, day by day”, you mused, repeating that thought every day.

Your life took a turn, however, when a new inmate joined Green Dolphin. She was a young woman around your age, dark buns adorning her head and a green fringe framing her face. You had been spared from a cellmate, but that all changed now, as she was your new roomie. “Great,” you thought bitterly, “now my last bit of peace has been stolen from me.”

She introduced herself as Jolyne Kujo. Jolyne seemed to be still quite naïve when it came to prison life, claiming she’d been conned and that her lawyer would certainly take her out from there. “It’s time to face the fact that no one cares if you’re here for a valid reason or not, trust me, I know it from experience”, you thought, though you didn’t dare voice that to her.

She actually turned out to be nice. And with that, you meant that she respected your private space and didn’t threaten you. In exchange, you offered her some advice on who to avoid in jail, which the woman gladly accepted.

At first, the change was barely noticeable. Jolyne kept herself quiet except for the occasional small talk in your cell or during a shared task. Instead, she chose to lounge around two other inmates you hardly knew, one with dark braids and the other with a weird-looking green cap. You were glad to see that at least she formed a group, being able to protect herself now better from potential harassers if needed.

Of course you were still exposed to them. You made your way to the shower as a woman with broad muscles approached you, face turned into a dark grimace. By her build and expression, you’d first assumed she was a guard until you’d noticed the familiar uniform.

“You there!”, she shouted at you, a finger pointing menacingly at you as she came closer, “Give me your money, now!”

You cowered back into the corner of the shower room, panic flooding your system. “I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I don’t have anything on me, I can give it to you after-“

“Don’t fucking play with me, bitch”, she brutely interjected, nostrils flaring up angrily due to exhaling. Your aggressor stood now in front of you, a strong hand wrapping itself around your throat and threatening to cut off your airflow. She yanked you up in the air as she continued her assault. “You think you can pick and choose? Does this place look like fucking Disneyland to you? You better give me my money now if you don’t wanna end up choking water and being beaten up like the dirty street mutt you are.” You were already flinching when the prisoner raised her fist to punch your face as a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“I think that’s enough”, Jolyne said in a firm tone, a fierce expression marking her face.

“And who the hell are you? Wanna join your little friend here?”, your tormentor commented, unimpressed by your cellmate’s entrance.

“Big words for someone who’ll soon be nothing but a bloody pulp”, Jolyne answered, not faltering under the inmate’s glare.

Your harasser proceeded to laugh out loud at her words, obviously not taking her seriously. She dropped you unceremoniously as she shifted all her attention to your saviour instead. Desperately, you panted for air, your hands moving to your hurting throat. You remained in your corner as you observed the scene unfolding in front of you.

“As if you weakling could do anything against me,” your tantaliser spit out, still chuckling at Jolyne’s words, “I’d kill you with my pinky finger.”

Jolyne remained strangely calm, choosing to smile at the threat. “We’ll see about that”, was the only thing she uttered before she lunged at her with incredible speed. Clearly, you weren’t the only one surprised as the inmate’s eyes widened as well. Jolyne turned the bully’s bewilderment into her advantage, her fist immediately connecting with the inmate’s nose. The latter let out a shrill scream, blood dripping out of her nostril. Clearly, she didn’t expect your roommate to do any real damage, let alone break her nose.

Jolyne shook the hand she punched her with, her knuckles reddened and slightly torn open from the assault. You kept staring at both of them, petrified and unsure about what to do now.

“I’ll kill you for that, you bitch,” your aggressor barked out angrily, “and your little friend will pay, too.”

You started trembling at the thought of her hand around your neck again.

“I’ll look for a guard, Jolyne”, you eventually said, the fear barely hidden in your voice. You decided this was enough and someone had to put an end to this.

“Stay here”, your cellmate replied authoritatively. For the first time, you were actually scared of her. “I’ll teach this woman that she needs to face consequences for her actions.”

With these words, Jolyne placed her fingers on your tormentor’s right ear. You wondered what she’d do next when a sudden yell disrupted your thoughts. The inmate’s cry was far worse than the previous one, emitting all of her pain and agony. You could hardly listen to it.

Then, with great horror, you finally noticed it. Her ear shell laid on the floor, blood coating the cut off organ. Your gaze travelled to Jolyne, waiting for an explanation to your unvoiced question, though she kept her eyes fixated on the prisoner’s pain-ridden face.

“You won’t touch Y/N or me ever again, did I make myself clear?”, she asked, her voice coated with barely concealed anger. Your bully only gave out a whimper, but the answer seemed to satisfy Jolyne. “Good. Now, if you see any guards, you keep our names out of your mouth, unless you want to lose another body part.”

The following weeks, Jolyne had become overly protective. She clung to you like a lost child, afraid that you’d be hurt or threatened again without her presence. You didn’t know if you should be grateful or terrified for her protection.

You’d asked her how she’d been able to cut that one prisoner’s ear off, but her explanation had been more confusing than enlightening. She’d talked about a Stand ability and how only so-called Stand users could see and wield it, but nothing made sense to you. You started to believe she’d just lost her mind.

Jolyne had also introduced you to her friend group. Ermes and Foo Fighters seemed nice enough, though they behaved in the same weird manner as your cellmate did. You felt awkward in their presence, not knowing why you were even there in the first place.

In the end, you decided to be thankful. With Jolyne and her friends by your side, no one bullied you anymore. And if your peace meant to spend some time with your cellmate, that was a small price to pay, right?

You didn’t notice the pair of chartreuse eyes observing every bit of your sleeping form. You never did.

Jolyne had been looking at you for many nights. This time, it wasn’t an exception. She tentatively brushed her hand over your cheek, marvelling at your slight reaction as you furrowed your brows at the touch.

“You’re really cute Y/N, do you know that?”, she whispered to you. Of course you were unable to answer.

Jolyne had been unusually shy around you. She was well aware of the fact that after her act of violence, you felt uncomfortable around her, possibly even scared. She tried so so hard to make you see that she was only protecting you! In fact, the young woman wondered how you could have even survived in Green Dolphin before her arrival.

She had a hard time picturing your life without her in it. At first, she’d been furious and crushed at the revelation that her ex-boyfriend had purposefully framed her for a crime she hadn’t committed. She had loved Romeo, so naturally, her heart had been broken.

But then, you entered her life. She saw now why she needed to be here. Who else could protect you, love you, like Jolyne? You were everything she had ever wanted.

Lovingly, she placed a small kiss on your cheek. You stirred slightly from the feathery peck. Nevertheless, you continued your slumber. Jolyne wished she could touch you more deliberately, more intensely. She’d grown tired of this little hiding game. The prisoner didn’t want to secretly let your brush run through her hair anymore, imagining it were your fingers instead or coo at you when you were sleeping. No, she wanted to feel you, to be touched and loved by you.

Sure, you might feel uncomfortable around her, but that was only because you didn’t see how much she cherished you. Maybe it was time to be bolder around you.

“Hey Y/N, could you give me my toothbrush, please?”

“Sure”, you replied casually as you handed the desired object over to her.

“Thanks, you truly are the sweetest.”

Your face heated up at her flirtatious tone. “She definitely didn’t mean it in that way”, you thought to calm your nerves.

“You still don’t want to join me showering? I’d hate for you to get attacked again”, your cellmate asked you, concern swinging in her voice.

“I’m good,” you mumbled, “I’ll just go next morning. And I doubt anyone’s gonna threaten me again after your lesson.” The thought of Jolyne mutilating another inmate terrified you, no matter how much your former aggressor deserved it.

“Come on, you’re just afraid to see me naked,” Jolyne teased while giving you a toothy grin, “it’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind.”

You didn’t think you could get more flustered. “That’s not it!”, you countered hastily, “I mean not that you're not a beautiful woman or anything, it’s just that…”

Jolyne stopped listening and straightened her back. You thought she was beautiful? Was this finally the moment she’d been waiting for? A dreamy expression marked her bright eyes.

“You think we could be a thing?”, Jolyne interjected your rambling.

“What?!”, you stuttered, unsure if you heard her correctly.

“I mean, I do really like you.” Suddenly, she stood up from her bed and moved over to you. You stared at her big-eyed, still not knowing what was going on. A hand came resting on your cheek as her gaze was locked on you. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally in love with you.” She softly traced her fingers over your skin, sending a chill down your spine.

“Jolyne”, you whispered quietly. You had no clue how to handle the situation, images of her brutal side flashing up in your mind again. You gulped harshly. “I didn’t know you felt this way, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” the young woman retorted, “we could just be more, you know?” Jolyne leaned into you, closing the space between you, as her lips landed on yours. She kissed you with gentleness and care, as if you were made of glass. When you felt her teeth slightly tugging at your bottom lip, begging for more, you eventually snapped out of your surprise and pushed her away from you.

“What was that?”, you asked her out of breath, unable to conceal your anger.

“I’ve kissed you, silly.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not interested in a relationship!”

Ah yes. That must have been when Jolyne had blended you out in favour of marvelling at your compliment.

“I think you should think about that again”, your cellmate replied, a dark edge manifesting in her voice.

“And why is that? Do you want to cut my ear off too?”, you asked, your iritateness making you feel reckless.

Jolyne huffed at your comment. She did that for you!

“At least you could be grateful for what I did,” she spit out, “but no, I’d never hurt you. I can’t guarantee the same thing about the other inmates though.”

You immediately caught onto the threat. Your anger easily transformed into fear again as you realised what impact your words had on the woman in front of you. When Jolyne noticed you wouldn’t counter, she put her hand on your body again, this time deciding to let it travel up and down your arm.

“If you keep saying mean things to me,” she said, her voice still sounding menacing despite her gentle hand movement, “I might just not talk to you anymore. Once the others see that we’re not hanging out anymore, they’ll just change their mind and choose you as their target again. And what do you do without my protection? You don’t want to be their punching bag again, do you, hm?”

“No”, you managed to utter silently, eyes cast onto the floor.

“Look sweetheart, I can make an exception for today. I’ll forget your behaviour and you reciprocate, right? Unless you want to go back to your initial position.”

“No!”, you answered a bit too fast, your eyes looking at her face again. You could only imagine what the inmate with the mutilated ear would do to you… “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jolyne took hold of chin, ensuring that your eyes were still trained at her. Then, she kissed you again. Despite your feelings, you gave in, much to her pleasure. When she eventually removed her lips from yours, she shot you another love-struck gaze.

You knew your life in Green Dolphin had been shitty before Jolyne, but now you only felt what it meant to be truly imprisoned.

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” the young woman said with a bedazzling smile on her face, “I’d suggest we finally take a shower, after all I can’t wait to see everything of my darling.”

Her grin gained a sinister note.

“And we’ll see how the night goes after that.”

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #stone ocean #yandere jolyne #yandere jolyne x reader #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #tw: threats #tw: toxic relationship #tw: noncon kiss #tw: slight gore #tw: ear mutilation #tw: bullying #tw: prison #tw: insults #tw: violence #minors dni

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bellakitse · 3 years ago

Text

Greener on the Other Side

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid."

Alex hasn't heard anything about TK Strand in over four years. That's about to change.

Alex Fletcher walks into Gramercy Tavern twenty minutes later than he agreed to meet his friends. He already dreads what is sure to be a lecture on his constant tardiness from the group, but more so, what he knows will be pointed looks when they see he’s come alone instead of with his boyfriend.

Spotting them to the left of the restaurant, he starts to make his way over to them. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts to say with a charming smile as all five of them look up at his voice, hoping to curb the scolding before it starts. “The 6 train was an absolute mess. It got the 33rd street and then refused to go forward.”

Liz and Becca share a look at his excuse, and Alex has to keep from rolling his eyes at them. He gets it. Being late is one of his less desirable character traits, and they find it annoying, but after over a decade of friendship, he thinks they should get over it by now.

“Yeah, the trains have been acting up all week,” Malcolm offers while his wife Patricia gives him a small smile, the two of them ever the peacemakers of the group. “Sit down, man.”

Alex offers his friends a more sincere smile, shaking hands with him and his other buddy Chris before giving all three women kisses on the cheek.

“Where is Dean?” Patricia asks politely, and Alex winces at her mistake. It’s been a while since he and Dean ended things, but it’s also been a while since Patricia has joined her husband at one of their dinners.

“We broke up a few months ago,” he tells her, his face feeling tight from his fake smile. “I’m dating someone new now. His name is Wallace.”

“Oh,” Patricia says softly, going a little red in the face at her blunder. “My apologies, Alex.”

He waves her off, wanting to move on from the embarrassing moment quickly. “No worries, Patty,” he says to her. “And Wallace wanted to come, but he had to work,” he explains, trailing off lamely, not believing the lie himself, but it’s not like he can tell his friends that Wallace simply didn’t want to come because he thought it would be boring.

His friends all give him understanding, if not quite believing looks, and Alex wonders just how pathetic his expression is that they don’t push for more.

The mood around the table is awkward and quiet, making his skin feel tight. Thankfully their waiter comes over to take their drink order, easing the moment, giving him something else to focus on.

He starts to loosen up once there is a vodka soda in his hand. He listens to Liz as she talks about her latest architecture project, laughs at the funny story Chris tells them about his 1st-grade class painting the class bunny with washable markers. He’s enjoying their company, forgetting for a moment that his boyfriend should be there with him getting to know his friends when Becca’s eyes light up as Chris wraps up another story about his students.

“You guys will never believe who I saw yesterday walking out of FAO Schwarz,” she starts, her brown eyes lighting up with the chance to share some juicy gossip.

Alex leans in, already intrigued by the look on her face.

“Who?” Liz asks with a grin, curious herself.

“TK Strand,” Becca answers, saying the name with emphasis, and Alex gets why even as he feels shock go through him. It’s been over four years since he has seen or heard from TK. Not since the night he stopped him from proposing, confessing he was in love with someone else.

Mitchell, he thinks bitterly as he takes a large gulp of his drink. In the end, he’d turned out to be Alex’s own personal karma for hurting TK.

Walking in on him and another guy from their gym eight months into their official relationship had been a kick in the teeth and a hard lesson to learn.

He shakes his head to clear it from the lousy memory just in time to hear Becca’s following comment, shocking him more than her first. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

Becca looks at him, hesitating as she bites down on her lip, looking remorseful for a moment, probably remembering that out of all of them, he’d be the one with the most invested interest.

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid. They were coming out of the toy store when I bumped into them, and he introduced them to me. His husband’s name is Carlos, and their little boy is Luca. Really cute kid – was talking a mile a minute about all the toys in the place, and given all the bags they had, they must have bought him half the store.”

“Wow,” Chris breathes out, his surprise evident. “I can’t believe he’s married and with a kid. How old do you think?”

“Four,” Becca answers instantly. “I asked Luca, and he held up his fingers.”

Alex shakes his head again. It’s been four years since he and TK were together, and he has a four-year-old son. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says mostly to himself.

“I get the feeling he’s adopted,” Becca answers. “Or maybe Carlos’ son,” she continues with a shrug. “But he called TK dad.”

“What was the husband like?” Liz questions, and Alex is grateful because he can’t bring himself to ask.

“He was polite and friendly,” Becca pauses, shooting him another look before continuing. “Ridiculously hot, and hopelessly in love with TK. I spent maybe ten minutes with them, and you guys should have seen the way he looked at him. It was like TK hung the moon.”

The table is quiet for a moment. For his benefit, he’s sure, as he tries to process everything he’s learned, when Liz speaks up again.

“Good for TK. He deserves that and more,” she says with a smile on her face that takes a hard edge when he shoots her a glare. “What?” she questions, her whole expression challenging him. “You didn’t take care of him when you guys were together, and he’s a great guy. I always liked him even though we lost touch after you broke up. I’m glad he’s found happiness.”

Alex bites down on the urge to lash out at his friend, not only is it a losing battle with Liz, but deep down in the parts of him where he has buried his guilt and shame at his past actions, he knows he can’t argue with the truth she just laid on him.

֎֎֎

The rest of the dinner is awkward to say the least. Even though they move on from TK, Alex can’t stop thinking about his ex and what he’s learned. He pulls Becca to the side as they’re leaving, grilling her for any more information she might have.

She finally tells him TK had mentioned they were staying with his mother and little brother – one of the few things he did know about TK and his family since Gwyneth and his father ran in the same legal circles. He’d learned about the woman’s surprise pregnancy almost three years ago.

Becca looks at him as he absorbs the information before letting out a heavy sigh, reminding him not to do anything stupid.

He’d given her an absent nod that even he didn’t believe. Which is probably why he’s outside of Gwyneth’s Park Avenue apartment in a hat and sunglasses like a stalker, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex and his husband.

Whether luck is on his side or karma wants to teach him another lesson, he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s been outside of the swanky apartment building for maybe 15 minutes, trying to decide what exactly he thinks he’s doing, when the front door opens and out walks the person he wants to see.

He ducks behind a tree just in time to not be spotted, peeking behind it to look at the small family.

TK, at 26-years-old, had been a beautiful man; Alex remembers that well. But now, at 30, he’s even more stunning if that’s even possible. He walks out of the building with a tall, muscular man Alex instantly recognizes as the ‘ridiculously hot’ mystery husband. Each of them with a little boy in their arms.

“So what are we doing today?” he hears TK ask with a grin on his face as the little boys instantly start to chant, ‘Park, park, park!’

“I wanna see the penguins, Dada,” exclaims the little boy in the arms of TK’s husband. Carlos and Luca, he remembers.

TK smiles softly at his son before looking at the child in his own arms. “What about you, little brother? Do you want to go to the Central Park Zoo and see the penguins?” he asks, tickling his chin, getting a happy giggle along with a nod from the little boy.

TK’s grin grows before he looks over at his husband, getting a nod from the man too.

“It’s unanimous then,” TK proclaims in an animated voice that has the boys lighting up. “To the park! To the penguins!”

The pair of boys let out a ‘yeah!’ leaning over at each other to share a clumsy high-five that has the adults laughing.

“You just had to rile them up, troublemaker,” Carlos scolds TK, and he might be a stranger to Alex, but he can tell it’s said with amused fondness.

“You love me,” TK teases his husband, going easily when the man reaches out to tug him in closer by his shirt, turning his face up as his husband leans in to kiss him, tilting to the side to keep the boys out of the way.

Alex swallows hard at the display. Even from where he’s hiding, he can see TK’s bright smile and dancing green eyes once he and his husband break the kiss.

“Always, my love,” Carlos tells TK as he kisses the side of his face adoringly.

“Dada, Papa,” Luca groans out. “Kissing later, park now,” he continues, much to the amusement of the two men.

“So demanding,” TK teases, leaning in to kiss the little boy’s cheek too, laughing at the face he makes. “Okay, let’s go.”

They start towards the park, and Alex hesitates for a moment. He’s seen and heard TK and his family with his own eyes and ears. It’s obvious his ex is happy and not at all thinking about him. He should turn around in the opposite direction and leave before his luck runs out and they spot him. It’s the reasonable thing to do, and yet he finds himself following them about half a block back, keeping his head down.

He can’t hear them from this distance, but he can watch them. He takes in the way the two men hold hands while each holding on to a child, listening and chatting with the two little ones. Everything about them screams family, and Alex can’t deny the dull ache it causes inside his chest.

Is this what he and TK could have had?

He follows them through the park until they come to a series of benches. He watches as TK hands over his little brother to his husband, the man easily carrying both kids. TK sits down, but no one else does. Instead, he waves at them as his husband walks away with the children, leaving TK alone.

Alex hesitates again. This is his chance to approach TK, and yet he’s frozen in place by indecision.

A moment later, his ex takes the choice out of his hand.

He startles as TK turns his head to look straight at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there?” he calls out to him casually, the picture of calm as he places his arms on the backrest of the bench. It’s different from the TK he remembers, who was always constantly bouncing his legs with nervous energy.

“How did you – “ he starts, feeling awkward and off-balance.

“I didn’t,” TK answers with a shrug as Alex gets closer to him. “It was Carlos who realized. He’s a cop. Noticing weirdos is kind of his job.”

Alex cringes at the descriptor as he comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi, TK,” he says lamely, wincing again at the high pitch sound of his voice.

TK raises an eyebrow at him again. “Hello, Alex. Any particular reason you’re following us in that get-up?” he questions, pointing at his hat and sunglasses.

Alex feels his face grow hot at the question. He reaches up, taking them off. “Becca said she saw you,” he says uncomfortably, getting a casual nod back from his ex. “And I got curious,” he continues weakly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“That sounds like poor impulse control,” TK mutters to himself. He moves to the side, leaving half the bench open for Alex to decide if he wants to take a seat or not.

Alex would be embarrassed by the speed with which he takes the offer, but the joy at being allowed to get closer overrides that. Neither says anything after he sits down, him because he’s nervous, TK it seems because he’s simply waiting him out.

“So,” he starts slowly. “You’re visiting?”

TK looks at him, seeming to study him before giving him a nod. “We try to see my mother and my little brother Robbie every few months. Sometimes they come to see us, but New York is always pretty in the spring, and Luca has never been.”

“That’s your son,” he blurts out, his face going hot again at the look TK shoots him.

“Becca shared everything, did she,” he questions with a dry smile, shaking his head to himself.

“The group had dinner,” he explains, not needing to add who exactly was there. There was a time when TK would have sat right next to him at one of those dinners, charming everyone with stories about fighting fires and daring rescues.

“Ah,” TK exhales softly. “It’s nice you all still do that. They’re good people. I liked them.”

“They liked you too,” Alex answers, giving TK a half-smile. “Liz was thrilled to hear that you’re married and have a kid. She’s happy you’re happy.”

TK smiles, this time more genuine. “That sounds like her,” he comments, looking nostalgic for the first time. “She was always kind to me,” he finishes, not adding anything else.

It goes quiet between them again, causing Alex’s nerves to fray at the edges. He’s not used to this TK. The one he remembers always filled the silence, even if it was just with nervous chatter.

“So, are you?” he can’t help but blurt out, swallowing nervously when TK gives him a curious look. “Are you happy?”

TK lets out a huff, and while he doesn’t smile or laugh, Alex can see a hint of amusement in his bottle-green eyes. “Is that why you’re here? You want to know if I’m happy?”

He feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand at the mocking he hears in TK’s voice. “Is that so crazy?” he questions defensively. “The last time we spoke wasn’t precisely the best encounter – “

“That’s because I was getting ready to propose to you and instead found out you were fucking around my back with a spin instructor,” TK interrupts him, surprising Alex with how calm he is. There is no anger or reproach in TK’s voice like Alex anticipated, just a simple fact. It hurts Alex more than he expected to witness how unaffected TK seems. “How is Mitchell by the way?”

Alex clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as embarrassment courses through him. He wants to stand up and walk away from this. He’s not sure what he’d hoped to accomplish by seeking TK out, but it’s clear now whatever it was, he isn’t going to get it.

He looks at TK to find a mild curiosity on his face, like Alex’s answer doesn’t really matter to him one way or another.

“We broke up,” he answers anyway, taking a breath to try to soothe the ache before his next words. “I found him in our bed with someone else less than a year after you and I broke up.”

“Well shit,” TK says quietly, letting out a breath of his own. He doesn’t look gloating the way he has a right to look. Instead, he looks at Alex with what can only be called compassion. “Karma didn’t just pay you back. It sucker-punched you in the face, huh?”

Alex lets out a startled laugh at the description. TK joins him with a chuckle of his own, and Alex welcomes it even if it’s at his own expense. They laugh for a few seconds before they let it trail off.

“To answer your question,” TK starts to say. He looks at him, bobbing his head softly. “Yes, I’m happy. I’m the kind of happy where I wake up in the morning, look at my husband sleeping, usually with our kid between us, and I can’t believe just how lucky I am.”

“You love him,” Alex whispers, not really needing an answer when he can see it clearly on his face.

TK answers anyway. “He’s my soulmate,” he says with a smile that isn’t directed at him at all. It’s directed at the man who walked away with two kids in his arms minutes before. “I used to think that was you,” he continues, his voice sounding far away, lost in the past while Alex aches in the present. “I was so sure of it once, and then I met Carlos. I was still a mess about you, and I wasn’t looking to fall in love at all, but there he was, and I fell. I fell so fast, Alex. Years later, I’m still falling in love with him every single day.”

“That sounds – “ Alex starts, exhaling through the dull throbbing in his chest. “Scary, honestly.”

TK smiles, bright and beautiful, just like Alex remembers. “It is,” he says with a short laugh. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also amazing, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.”

Alex nods quietly to himself.

“I’m sorry you haven’t found that yet,” TK continues softly because it seems that surprising Alex is the name of the game today. He gives TK a shocked look that has him giving Alex a compassionate look back. “I never wished you ill will. I was hurt and angry after everything went to hell between us, but in the end, I wanted you to find someone to love the way you couldn’t love me and for that person to love you back just the same.”

Alex swallows hard at TK’s words, feeling overwhelmed by them. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

TK looks away from him, and Alex follows his gaze to find that his husband and the kids are coming back with ice cream in their hands. “Thank you for saying that,” he says softly as he stands. He looks down at Alex, giving him a slight quirk of his mouth. “Goodbye, Alex. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Alex watches TK walk away from him, knowing it will be the last time he’ll see him. “Goodbye, TK,” he whispers at his back, feeling the loss more now than he did four years ago.

֎֎֎

“Dada, we got ice cream!” Luca exclaims happily as he slurps on his spiderman popsicle.

“I can see that. Can I have a taste of spidey?” he questions, leaning in when Luca sweetly offers him his treat. “Mmm, that’s yummy. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Luca smiles up at him, his face already a sticky red and blue mess. He looks at Robbie to see his face is yellow from his Spongebob popsicle. He smiles at them fondly as he turns his backpack to his front, searching for the wet wipes to clean their faces.

“We got you a cone with sprinkles,” Carlos says with a smile, though TK can see the worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

TK looks at his husband, taking in his concern for him along with his ever-present love, and smiles as he remembers what he just told Alex moments ago. The love he and Carlos share is so strong – it can be frightening at times to feel so much and so intensely for another person, but like he told Alex, he wouldn’t change it for the world when it means Carlos loves him back just as strongly.

“Yeah, baby,” he answers, reaching out to touch Carlos’ cheek. “Everything is okay,” he smiles at his husband before looking down at his son and little brother. “Better than okay because we’re going to go see some penguins!”

Luca and Robbie cheer happily.

“Let’s go, Robbie,” Luca says to his uncle, throwing an arm over the other little boy’s shoulder.

TK and Carlos watch them walk a few steps ahead of them, chatting away the way only little kids can.

“You sure you’re alright?” Carlos asks as he hands him a melting ice cream. TK takes it, giving it a few licks to keep it from dripping.

“I swear, babe,” he assures him as he wraps an arm around Carlos’ waist. “We talked, and then we said goodbye.”

“What did he want?” Carlos asks curiously.

TK shrugs. He’ll be honest even after talking to Alex; he’s still not entirely sure what the other man wanted out of the conversation. “I’m not even sure he knows,” he answers after a moment. “He apologized for the past and asked me if I was happy. Maybe he was feeling guilty.”

“What did you tell him?” Carlos questions, a smile playing on his mouth when TK shoots him a look. “What?” he asks innocently, and TK can’t help but chuckle at his fishing.

“I told him,” he starts to say, making sure that he’s holding Carlos’ gaze, as usual falling in love all over again as he gets lost in Carlos’ soulful brown eyes. “That every morning, I wake up amazed I got so lucky to love and be loved by you.”

Carlos pulls him to his side, pressing his face into his neck. “I’m the lucky one, Ty,” he whispers against his skin.

TK smiles at Carlos’ words, his smile growing as Luca shouts for them to keep up; the penguins are waiting. “We both are, my love.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #outsider POV #my writing

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

For the Past Four Years

You and Colson have been friends forever, but when you start getting lessons from a certain drummer, he gets a bit jealous.

Request: Sooo I was just wondering if a jealous!coulson whose your friend would be something you’d like to write? Maybe y/n and yungblud or rook or someone is getting a little too friendly and it makes him angry either fluff or smut would work tbh

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N I am so sorry this took so long! This is the one I was talking about when I said I got to the end and wasn’t feeling it so I rewrote it.

Word Count: 2019

You hated being the only one in the crew who couldn’t go on tour. The travel interfered with your job too much, so you were left alone for months out of the year. But that made it all the better when you could join the tour. You were grateful for the two weeks off you were given while Colson was on the Hotel Diablo tour.

You flew out to their show in Phoenix and planned to stay on the tour bus with them until they got back to LA. The boys were ecstatic to have you around, having known you for almost 4 years. Colson was probably the most excited to see you again, seeing as he had known you the longest.

You were in the green room for the fifth show since you’d join the tour, the energy through the roof. Colson was busy talking with Ashleigh about the show, so you found entertainment in Rook, who was currently tapping away on his practice kit. “Ok, guess this one.”

You were currently trying to figure out what songs he was playing, and you were doing pretty good. He started playing the intro to “You Could Be Mine” by Guns N’ Roses, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. ”Really? It’s like you’re trying to make this easy for me.”

“It’s not my fault you know literally every song ever made.”

“Yeah, but Guns N’ Roses? Obviously, I’m gonna know it.” You smirked and he squinted at you.

“Fine. You’re so good, why don’t you play something and make me guess.” He held out his drumsticks for you to take.

You pouted, “Rookie you know I don’t know how to play drums.”

“I can teach you.” He offered, making your eyes light up.

“Wait, actually?” He nodded, standing up and grabbing another stool.

“C’mere.” He led you around the kit and sat you down, sitting on the stool behind you. He put the drumsticks in your palms and then moved to hold the outside of your hand. “We’ll start with the basics.”

When Colson came back into the room, he saw you and Rook laughing. You were looking back at Rook as his hands were wrapped around yours, a smile on your face. He couldn’t help his heart sinking, and he tried his best to maintain his composure. Luckily, he only had to endure a few more minutes of you guys obviously flirting before everyone had to move to side stage.

You noticed Colson slumped on one of the couches across the room and you sent him a smile. “Rook is teaching me how to play.” You mouthed to him, and he nodded sarcastically.

“Good for you.” He mouthed back, obviously uninterested and upset about something. You raised your eyebrow and tilted your head, silently asking what was wrong. He just shook his head.

“Alright guys, backstage.” Ashleigh announced, and all the boys jumped up.

Rook stood up and you followed, handing him his drumsticks. “We shall continue this later, young grasshopper.” He joked, bowing dramatically. You rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the door of the green room.

“Don’t suck too much.” You smiled, and he turned back to stick his tongue out at you. Colson watched the interaction and it looked like steam would start blowing out of his ears. You bounded over to where he had just stood up. “Good luck hug?” You asked sweetly, a tradition you had started the first time you went backstage before a show.

Instead of answering, he walked right past you, leaving the room. You stared after him, confusion present on your face. You wanted to talk to him about it, but decided it was best to leave it for after the show.

Colson seemed to be in a better mood on stage and after the show, insisting on partying on the bus. You had no complaints; you loved the endless party that was touring with MGK. Once you got on the bus, however, his mood seemed to drop all over again. You didn’t really notice it at first, a bit distracted by the loud music and the other guys. You loved spending time with them, they were as much your family as Colson. But your good time was spoiled by Colson sitting on one of the couches scrolling through his phone with a drink in his hand.

You didn’t want to have fun without him, he was your best friend, after all. So, you walked over to him, reaching your hand out. “Come dance with me.” You smiled, which he did not return.

In fact, he barely looked at you, just took a sip of his drink and said, “why don’t you go dance with Rook since you like him so much.”

You were taken aback by his comment. “Umm, what?”

“You heard me. If you like Rook so much why don’t you go dance with him? Why don’t you just sleep with him while you’re at it?”

You took a step back, offended. “I don’t know what your problem is right now, but either talk to me like a grown up or get over it.”

Colson sighed, standing up and grabbing your hand to drag you to the back of the bus, away from the crowd. He opened the door that separated the bunks from the rest of the bus, leading you in and closing it behind you. You waited for an explanation from him, but he just stood there, glaring at you.

“Okay, what the fuck is your problem, Colson? I’ve been here for all of a week so I don’t exactly know what I could’ve done.” You tried to keep your voice quiet, but your tone was still sharp.

Colson’s tone stung just as bad. “Oh right, because you haven’t been flirting with Rook ever since you got here. I mean seriously could you make it any more obvious?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Okay, one, I’m not fucking flirting with anyone, much less Rook. Two, even if I was flirting with him, or anyone for that matter, it’s none of your fucking business.” Colson had a habit of doing this; anytime you started talking to a guy, or even just dancing with one at a club, he made sure it stopped immediately and you were fed up with it.

“It is my business. He’s my bandmate and you’re my best friend. If you two hook up or do anything, guess who’s caught in the middle? Me.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose that’s why you’ve run off every other guy I’ve tried to do anything with?”

He stepped towards you, eyes getting darker. “So you were trying to get with Rook?”

“Oh my god Colson, no!” You let out an exasperated groan, “I’m just saying you have a pattern of getting in between me and literally any member of the male species. Rook and I are just friends, you know that. And I would never put you in a situation like that.”

He stepped closer to you, standing over you now. "Maybe I just don’t think they’re good enough for you.” His voice got quieter, but you weren’t backing down.

“You’re supposed to think that. That’s what friends are for. But that doesn’t mean you get to get in the way of every potential relationship I have.”

“Stop saying that fucking word.” His voice got deeper, darker.

You furrowed your brows, confused and a bit nervous at his tone. “What word.” Your voice came out quieter than you expected it to.

Colson sighed and hung his head, backing away from you, “forget it.”

He turned so his back was facing you, running a hand through his hair. You watched him carefully, studying him. “What word, Colson?” You pushed him.

He rubbed his face with his hands, letting out another heavy sigh. “Did you ever stop to think about why I didn’t want you to get anywhere with those guys?” Your heart seemed to stop beating for a second, and your shoulders fell slightly.

“N-no.” You stuttered, walking towards the man, who was still turned away from you. “Colson, I’m really confused right now.” Your voice was soft. You reached out to touch his arm, but he spun around before you could.

His hand reached out to tilt your jaw up, so you were looking into his eyes. You expected him to be angry, but there was something else instead. His face was really close to yours, enough that you could feel his breath on your nose when he spoke. “There’s a reason I don’t want you to flirt with Rook, or with any other guy for that matter.” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and you took a sharp breath as your heart fluttered.

“Colson-“ You started, but he cut you off.

“Just let me finish, please. I have to say this or I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.” You stayed silent, your eyes begging him to continue. “I don’t want you to be with anyone else. Fuck, Y/N, it hurts like hell to see you flirting with other people because I want you to be flirting with me.”

You smile, trying not to giggle. “And I realized when I left for tour that I’m kind of really in love with you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips onto yours. His hands wrapped around your waist as his lips moved against yours. When you pulled away, he placed his forehead against yours, eyes closed. “I’ve kind of been flirting with you for the past 4 years, loser.”

His eyes flew open, head moving away from yours. “What?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I’ve kind of been really in love with you for a long time.” You mimicked his earlier words. “You never said anything about it so I just assumed you didn’t feel the same way.”

He let out a breath through his nose, “God I’m so dumb.” You giggled, shaking your head and pressing your lips against his.

“You are not, you’re just a little oblivious.” He rolled his eyes, pulling your hips closer to him and kissing you again, longer this time. He started leading you backwards, so your back pressed against the wall of bunks lightly. One of your hands moved to rest on his cheek and the other played with the hair at the base of his neck.

The kiss deepened, his tongue swiping against your lips. You granted him entrance, his tongue slowly exploring your mouth. His hands began to move down your waist. They were about to reach your butt when the door opened and Dre walked in. “Oh shit,” He paused, looking between you two and slowly smiling. “About time you fuckers got it on.”

You buried your head into Colson’s chest, a blush on your face. “Duuuude.” Colson groaned, his head falling backwards. “Get out.”

Dre chuckled, hands in surrender. “In my defense, you guys are the one making out in a tour bus full of people in the bunk room.”

If looks could kill, Dre would have been murdered by Colson by now. “Okay, I’m leaving. But just know I’m telling everyone about this.” He smiled, quickly leaving, and closing the door behind him before Colson could hurt him.

You laughed, pulling the man back to you and connecting your lips to his, a smile on your face. “I’m gonna kill him.” Colson mumbled against your lips.

You rolled your eyes, “As hot as that would be, society generally frowns upon killing your friends.” He chuckled and pressed another kiss to your lips, his hands reaching up to cup your face.

“Wait, would you still like me if I was a murderer?”

You giggled, “Depends on who you kill, but probably.”

He pecked your lips, “What if I killed Rook?” You glared at him, and he smiled. “What? I’m just asking in case it happens.”

“You’re not allowed to kill your band members.”

“So if I kicked him out of the band and then killed him, it would be okay?”

“Colson Baker!”

“Kidding!”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #jp cappelletty #rook cappelletty

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here4theheartbreak · 4 years ago

Text

Bewitched by Babysitter (NamKook)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationship: Jungkook x Namjoon

Genre: smut, fluff | Rating: Explicit | Word Count: ~6.9k

Summary: Namjoon is a young, single father who is set up on a blind date. He needs a babysitter, and his friend knows just the man to help.

Tags: smut, fluff, getting together, dad Namjoon, college student Jungkook, dirty talk, bareback, rough sex, coming untouched

Dating was hard as hell. Being a single parent made it exponentially more difficult. Which was mostly why Namjoon hadn’t bothered to try. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He was lonely, he missed intimacy both emotionally and physically… But he just couldn’t be bothered. That and, if directly asked, Namjoon would admit that the thought of leaving his girl alone to go on a date was far more stress than was worth it. She was his life, and had been since the day she was put in his arms.

But Mingi was beginning to get older, and Namjoon knew he’d need to loosen that grip eventually. She was due to go to school for the first time the next year, and he’d still not spent more than a few hours away from her, save for when his parents wrenched her away for a grandparent play date.

It was his best friend, Yoongi, that had suggested the blind date. And the babysitter. Jeon Jungkook was a handsome twenty-one-year-old college student. He was finishing up his junior year, and Yoongi knew him through his boyfriend; Hoseok, who was a frequent guest teacher in one of Jungkook’s dance classes. So, he was an adult, responsible, and came highly praised. The date, on the other hand, was simply someone Yoongi knew. Minimal information, but he figured they’d get along and didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Namjoon would have much rather spent the evening playing games with Mingi.

But, if anything to appease his friend, Namjoon begrudgingly prepped for the date, cleaning himself up and making himself look quite presentable. He worked from home, and often forgot what going out clothing looked like, but a quick photo to Yoongi and a thumbs up emoji response told him he’d managed to pull something off. He was just applying a touch of cologne when the doorbell rang.

“I get it!” Screamed Mingi, who had been excited about the prospect of a new friend all week since Namjoon had broken the news. He rushed out behind her, his heart pounding in his ears. Maybe he’d hate the guy. A bad gut feeling, a drug smell, something. Anything to cancel this date.

Namjoon came around the side of the door that Mingi had thrown open. His breath slammed from his chest, the oxygen seeming to leave the room. Standing on his doorstep was the most beautiful man Namjoon had ever seen. He wore an open leather jacket over a simple black t-shirt. His jeans were far too tight (they were just right, who was he kidding), and had a perfectly placed thigh rip, revealing musculature that any man of their age group would envy. Heavy, flat soled sneakers and a perfectly styled undercut topped off the look, the neon red strap of a backpack visible over one shoulder.

“You must be Kim Namjoon.”

The boy’s voice was just as heavenly as the rest of his body. He lowered his gaze and grinned, his nose crinkling to reveal large front teeth. “And you must be Kim Mingi. My name’s Jungkook. I heard you’re in charge tonight,” he said. There was no hint of baby talk in his voice – in fact it didn’t change one octave, something Namjoon appreciated. He abhorred baby talk. Jungkook crouched down and offered his hand to her. Mingi giggled and shook it, looking up at Namjoon.

“I’m in charge!”

“Always, princess,” Namjoon said. Jungkook rose once more and stuck his hand out over Mingi’s head.

“Pleased to meet you. Hobi-hyung’s told me a lot about you.”

“Not too much bad, I hope.”

“Not a thing.”

“Please, come in. I’ll show you around. You’re right on time.”

Jungkook entered, stepping around Mingi. He kicked off his sneakers at the door and followed Namjoon through the house.

“The kitchen, you’re welcome to anything except the beer, of course. Mingi insisted on ordering in, so there’s a few menus and a card you can use.”

Jungkook glanced over at it and nodded. Namjoon led him down the hall. “Bathroom, Mingi’s room, she doesn’t need a bath or anything tonight, so no need to worry about that. Just make sure she brushes her teeth. Bedtime is at seven sharp, but she’ll do all she can to stay up later with more stories.”

Jungkook laughed a little at that, a bright thing that had Namjoon’s heart skipping a few beats. (He should really consider getting that checked out if it kept happening).

He led Jungkook out of the room and into the living room. “So my room’s there – it’s pretty much the only place off limits for Min when I’m not at home, my work stuff is breakable, so I ask that you keep the door shut.”

Jungkook nodded. He glanced around the living room and smiled when his eyes landed on Mingi, sprawled out on the floor. She was holding a bright pink and yellow Pegasus stuffed animal, making quiet airplane noises as she moved it back and forth through the air.

Jungkook went over. He set his backpack down and laid on his back, watching her.

“Is that the noises she makes?” He asked.

“It’s a boy. His name is Min Yoongi, like my Uncle Yoongi.”

“Ohh,” Jungkook nodded, “I’m sure Yoongi would appreciate that.”

“You know my Uncle?”

Jungkook nodded. “I go to school with his…” Jungkook drifted off, looking to Namjoon.

“With Uncle Hobi,” Namjoon filled in. Jungkook seemed to relax visibly and smiled.

“Yeah, he teaches me dance.”

Mingi gasped. “You dance? Can you show me dances? I wanna dance.” She pouted. “But Daddy wants me to be older.”

Jungkook laughed a little. “Well when you’re older he might be able to put you into a class. We can dance tonight if you want. Do you know good music?”

“Uh-huh! I love Crayon Pop.”

“Wah, Crayon Pop, they’re awesome!” Jungkook cried. Mingi sat up.

“You like them?” She clapped excitedly. “Daddy! He likes Crayon Pop!”

Namjoon smiled helplessly. “What luck! You two can listen to them tonight.”

Jungkook sat up and then rose, brushing his jeans off. “Any limits on screens or anything?”

“Normally, yes, but not tonight,” Namjoon said. “Figured, special occasion. Just try to make sure she only watches… You know, child friendly stuff.”

“I’ll keep a close eye on it,” Jungkook assured him.

“I should be home no later than ten or eleven. Honestly, probably not even that long.”

Jungkook shook his head. “Hobi-hyung told me a little. You’ve not been out in a while. Take your time. We’ll be okay here.”

Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “How pathetic, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious. “You’re twenty-one, right?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Ridiculous. We’re only three years apart. And I’m pretty much an old miser.”

“You are far too handsome to be an old miser,” Jungkook said, grinning brightly. Namjoon’s heart did that dangerous stutter step once more.

“I—Uh—Oh.” Namjoon cleared his throat. He hurried over to a desk and scrawled on a notepad. “My number is here. Feel free to call or text if you need anything, I’ll answer.”

“Of course. When do you go?”

Namjoon glanced at his phone. “I should head off now… I don’t wanna get caught in traffic.”

Jungkook nodded. He shrugged off his jacket and laid it over the arm of the couch. Namjoon’s breathing, once again, cut off at the sight of the muscles in his forearms. He looked strong… And fit…

Jungkook cleared his throat, and Namjoon looked up, his eyes widening at being caught staring. He turned quickly and scooped Mingi up. “Daddy’s gonna go now, okay?”

“Can we really order takeout?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yep, just let Jungkook know when you’re hungry.” She wiggled a little in Namjoon’s arms to look at Jungkook.

“I’m hungry!”

Jungkook grinned. “As soon as your Daddy leaves we’ll order. Maybe you could talk me into dessert.” He winked in mock sneakiness, and Mingi’s eyes widened. She giggled behind her hands and did her best to wink back, blinking both eyes instead.

Namjoon’s heart squeezed. He was great with her. He kissed Mingi’s cheek and set her down. “Behave for Jungkook, okay?”

“I promise!”

Namjoon pulled on his jacket and hunted for his wallet. “Like I said, call if you need anything,” he said.

Jungkook rushed forward, grabbing it from a nearby table and passing it to Namjoon. “You look great. She’s gonna be blown away tonight,” Jungkook said, straightening the collar of Namjoon’s coat.

“Thank you. See you later.” He waved to Mingi as he tugged on his shoes. He took a moment to glance back before hurrying out, knowing that if he didn’t leave that moment, he wouldn’t go at all.

The thing about blind dates was that they always had the chance of failure. About a hundred things could potentially go wrong. The most glaring issue, of course, is simple lack of compatibility. Which, unfortunately for Namjoon, was becoming the apparent issue with this one.

Bora was a lovely woman, she honestly was. And Namjoon understood right away why Yoongi thought they’d work well together. Bora was as smart as a whip, and devastatingly funny. She was beautiful as well, and clearly had a good head on her shoulders. But something was off. Namjoon couldn’t put his finger on it. Their personalities worked, and he was sure they’d be great friends, but there was simply no spark there. More than once he found his mind wandering as she spoke, and he caught her wandering just as frequently. He was grateful when his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

“Oh, excuse me. This is likely my sitter. I need to use the restroom anyway.” he said. Once she nodded, looking just as grateful as he did for the break, Namjoon rose and headed toward the bathroom. Near to it, he tapped open his phone and clicked the text.

‘Miss Mingi insisted that I send you and Hobi-hyung this for your formal critique, Mr.Kim.’ Attached was a video. Namjoon’s brows furrowed as he pressed play. It was filmed in his living room, the phone propped up on his couch, if he wasn’t mistaken. Jungkook backed up and pressed play on the YouTube video paused on the television. Immediately a cheery song drifted from the speakers, one Namjoon knew well – Bar Bar Bar, from Crayon Pop. Mingi and Jungkook stood side by side, facing the camera. He looked at her and counted softly. On one, they began doing the choreography to the music. Jungkook’s moves were smooth and obviously practiced. Mingi was a little less cohesive, often losing her place and looking to Jungkook for guidance. He kept an eye on her, helping her catch up by exaggerating the moves when she’d get lost. Mingi’s laughter covered the sound of the music as she caught on, bouncing to the bright beat. Jungkook was grinning broadly, visible even from the distance of the camera.

When the video ended, Namjoon blinked, surprised to find his eyes had watered. He wasn’t an extremely emotional man – even with his daughter… But there was something about it. His heart clenched when he scrolled back in the video. He paused it at a perfect moment. Mingi was looking up at Jungkook, her eyes wide and adoring. Jungkook was looking down, his expression filled with an equal amount of adoration.

Namjoon blinked quickly to clear his vision, sniffing. He tapped out a response.

‘100 out of 100 for Miss Mingi. 90 out of 100 for Mr. Jeon – your form was off for 0.005 seconds ;)’

Namjoon slipped into the bathroom, taking a moment to collect himself before heading back out to the table with Bora.

On the way his phone buzzed once more, and he couldn’t resist checking it.

‘I call a biased judging! But she’s adorable, so it can slide :D’

Namjoon chuckled and slid his phone into his pocket as he sat down.

“Everything okay?” Bora asked.

“Yeah, just my sitter checking in.”

Bora sighed, folding her hands neatly over her nearly empty plate. “Tonight has been nice, Namjoon-ssi… But I think you and I both can sense it’s not going anywhere. At least not… Where we’d like it to go.”

Namjoon’s shoulders slumped. He nodded, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I feel bad, I wanted to make it work.”

Bora reached over, setting her hand over his. “It’s not your fault, or mine. Sometimes these things just don’t work. You are a lovely man, and your daughter sounds like an angel. Someone will be very lucky to finally call you theirs.”

“You too, Bora.” Namjoon squeezed her hand gently. “Yoongi was right, you are amazing. I would like to be friends, if you want.”

She beamed. “I’d enjoy that. So see, the night was not lost. We’ve made new friends.”

Namjoon nodded, smiling softly. “You are right.” He reached up, calling for the check. “Do you have a way home? We can share a car.”

“No, I have my roommate coming to pick me up in a while. I had a feeling we may end things early.”

“Understandable.”

“Do you want a ride?”

“No, I’ll take a car. I need to stop and get cash for Jungkook anyways.”

Namjoon took the bill gratefully and handed over his card to the server.

When it was returned, Namjoon rose, helping Bora into her jacket and standing out with her until her friend came. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He smiled softly and waved, watching as the car drove off. He called a car for himself, leaning against a nearby light pole. As he waited, he found himself watching the video Jungkook had sent a few more times, his heart seeming to clench uncomfortably each time.

The man was unbearably beautiful. And so good with Mingi, Namjoon had never seen someone so naturally good with children. And Mingi’s adoration was clear – she was quite fond of Jungkook already. He would need to have Jungkook over more often. Not even as a sitter, perhaps for dinner one night. He wanted to get to know the boy more himself, if he was being honest.

Namjoon let his mind wander, and it drifted almost naturally to Jungkook. His body – his smile.

He wondered what the boy’s story was, where he was from, why he wanted to dance. What he did for fun… If he had a partner… Namjoon knew it was a dangerous line of thinking, but he couldn’t help it. He climbed into the car once it arrived, gazing out the window as they wove through the traffic toward his part of the city.

The house was quiet when Namjoon entered, and only the hallway light was on. He scowled, looking around. The remains of dinner in the trash, a receipt on the counter… Jungkook’s bag unzipped on the couch, a few books sticking out. Namjoon resisted the urge to snoop. He walked quietly down the hall, peeking into Mingi’s room.

She was curled up in her bed, arms wrapped in a stranglehold around her little Pegasus as she slept. Jungkook was also in her room. He was sprawled out on the floor, using one of Mingi’s stuffed puppies as a pillow. A textbook and notebook were open to his right, a pencil rolled a few feet away. Chemistry, if Namjoon’s eyes served him correctly. One of Mingi’s storybooks was open to Jungkook’s left. His eyes were shut, plush lips parted as he snored softly.

Namjoon snuck in as quietly as he could, picking up the pencil and carefully shutting the text book. He scooped it up before reaching out and shaking Jungkook lightly.

Jungkook snorted and shifted, blinking tiredly. He looked up and his eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, bowing low.

“Sorry—” He whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Namjoon responded in a quiet voice He beckoned Jungkook out of the room and shut Mingi’s door.

“What time did she go down?” Namjoon asked, handing Jungkook’s school supplies back to him as they walked back into the living room.

“A little before I sent you that video. We were busy so I didn’t have a chance to send it before.”

Namjoon nodded. He flipped on the living room light and leaned on the wall, watching Jungkook pack up his backpack.

“You are great with her. Do you have siblings?”

“An older brother, none younger. I’ve just always really liked kids. I help out at the local dance studio when I can, working with five to seven year olds.”

“The one a few blocks away from the college?”

Jungkook nodded. “That’s the one Hoseok told me to enroll Mingi in.”

“Honestly, if I’m not speaking out of turn, the girl has a lot of natural talent. You’d do well to let her nurture it.”

“I’ve thought of it. I’m just…” Namjoon chuckled, “Over protective.”

Jungkook nodded, He sat down on the couch. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.” Namjoon sat down with him.

“Hobi-hyung told me you were young, and a single father. But you aren’t much older than me. Mingi is school age. What… Happened?”

Namjoon smiled. “When I was a sophomore in college, I hooked up with a kind freshman. She was pre-law, on a scholarship, had a bright future. I was a jackass rich kid who thought I owned the world. We had sex, and the condom broke.” He shrugged. “I knew it was my responsibility too. Having a baby and raising it would have ruined her life. She didn’t want that. So I took responsibility. I offered to help her through the pregnancy, and then when the child was born I’d take full custody.”

“So she’s not in the picture at all?”

“We’re still friends, and she does know Mingi. But she isn’t a mother. Some people just aren’t meant to be parents, and she is one of them, we both know it. I, on the other hand… Have always wanted to be a dad. I just got my wish a few years sooner than planned.”

“So you’re… Only what, Hobi-hyung’s age?”

Namjoon nodded. “We’re the same year, yeah. A few years older than you.”

“You’re so mature and put together.” Jungkook looked around. “I’d kill to be this set up when I’m in my early twenties.”

“It can happen. Just takes dedication.”

“So how did your date go?” Jungkook suddenly asked. He stretched out and lifted his arms, baring his tight stomach for a moment. Not that Namjoon was looking…

“Wh—” Namjoon looked back up to Jungkook’s face. “Oh, uh, yeah, it didn’t go well. She was nice, but…”

“Not compatible.”

“Right.”

Jungkook nodded. “That’s too bad,” he said softly, looking down at his lap.

“Why?” “Well… If it didn’t work out, there’s no more need for a babysitter. I was kinda hoping to come over more to watch Mingi and see… You.”

Jungkook met Namjoon’s gaze, smiling a little. “She must have been blind. You’re a stunning man.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Thank you for the praise, Jungkook. But it was just our personalities, really.”

“Well still. She’s missing out.”

“Just because I don’t have another date with her doesn’t mean I won’t need a sitter. Especially one as good with Mingi and as kind… Maybe I’ll find more time to go out.”

“Or you could stay in,” Jungkook offered. “And just have me over… To hang out.”

Namjoon remained silent. He met Jungkook’s gaze, a little surprised to see his expression had darkened to something far more… Primal. Namjoon’s stomach knotted.

“Jungkook—"

“I like you. I did the second you opened that door. You’re handsome and mature and a good parent. You seem like the kind of man that knows what he wants… And goes and gets it.”

The spit in Namjoon’s mouth seemed to dry up all at once. “I—I suppose that’s been said.”

“So why are you hesitating?”

Namjoon tilted his head a little, unsure what Jungkook was implying.

“It’s okay, you know,” Jungkook said softly.

“What is?”

Jungkook smirked. He leaned a little closer to Namjoon. “That you wanna fuck the babysitter.”

Namjoon yelped, jumping to his feet, his eyes widening. “What?!”

Jungkook covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughter to no avail. He looked pointedly at Namjoon’s crotch, not moving from the couch.

Namjoon scowled and looked down. Much to his surprise, he realized his slacks, which fit far too tightly anyways, were beginning to tent with the half-erection he’d gotten. Half hard just from sitting next to a handsome man, what was he, a teenager? Namjoon covered his crotch quickly. “That’s not— I mean, I’m not a pervert, I—“

“You what?” Jungkook pressed. “Weren’t picturing me naked?”

Namjoon’s silence seemed to give Jungkook the answer he needed. He rose, stepping toward Namjoon. “It’s a normal fantasy, I suppose. A single parent... A young, handsome man. A big empty bed...” He pushed Namjoon’s hands away from his crotch and cupped the bulge, a smirk on his pretty mouth.

Namjoon’s eyes rolled back. He could feel his cock hardening further, and Jungkook gave a tentative stroke, sending sparks up his spine.

“It’s big,” he cooed. “I’ll say it again, Mr.Kim...” He moved closer, pressing his lips against Namjoon’s neck before moving to his ear. “Do you wanna fuck your babysitter?”

Namjoon gave a strained groan before nodding quickly.

“I want you too, sir,” Jungkook responded. Namjoon’s cock twitched in Jungkook’s hand. The way he loved being called that.

“I don’t get many men to fuck me good and hard... They make me top, usually. Do you want to fuck my ass? Bend me over and make sure I remember you tomorrow?”

“Jungkook—“

“Take me to bed, Mr. Kim.”

“Call me Namjoon, please—“

“I will... But wouldn’t you prefer sir?”

Namjoon moaned brokenly. He grabbed Jungkook’s hair and yanked his head back, pressing their lips together hard. Jungkook sighed contentedly against Namjoon’s mouth. He twisted his hips forward, and Namjoon could feel Jungkook’s cock growing hard in his jeans. Namjoon broke the kiss quickly and dragged him toward the bedroom, kicking the door shut before shoving him onto his back onto the bed.

Jungkook giggled, biting his bottom lip. He looked up at Namjoon, reaching down to undo his jeans. Namjoon crawled over him, catching his mouth in another kiss. He pushed Jungkook’s hands out of the way and undid the zipper himself, reaching in to stroke Jungkook’s cock through his boxers.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Jungkook muttered against his mouth.

“Do you want it?” Namjoon worried, pressing kisses over his cheek and jaw.

“I do. I wanted to kiss you from the moment I met you,” Jungkook admitted. He slid his hands over Namjoon’s shoulders and then around, undoing the buttons on his shirt. “You looked so nice dressed up. You smelled so good. I was a bit jealous.”

Namjoon lifted his head, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Jealous?”

“Mhm… That I was the babysitter… And you were going out with someone else.” He pushed his shirt open and leaned up, kissing Namjoon’s bare chest. He bit down lightly on Namjoon’s nipple. The surprise pleasure-pain of it twisted Namjoon’s stomach into little knots, his balls drawing up as his cock twitched.

Jungkook laid back and bucked his hips, his eyelids fluttering shut when his bulge rubbed over Namjoon’s thigh.

“Get these clothes off before I rip them off,” Namjoon huffed. He rose and stripped out of his own clothing quickly, his hands shaking as he fought with his belt. Jungkook stripped far more slowly, taking his time to peel his clothing off. Namjoon knew it was on purpose – and it was working – each inch of skin the handsome man revealed had his brain that much closer to short circuiting.

When Jungkook was naked, he got up from the bed and then sank to his knees in front of Namjoon, reaching up to pull his boxers down. Namjoon’s vision blurred a little as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Jungkook’s breath was hot against the sensitive skin of his shaft. He grinned up at him.

“Want me to suck your cock, sir?” He purred. Namjoon may have forgotten how to swallow.

His throat clicked and he nodded, not trusting his voice.

Jungkook laughed a little. He stroked Namjoon gently a few times before wrapping his lips around his tip. His mouth was warm and soft. It sent all sorts of tingles through Namjoon’s body.

“Oh, Jungkook…” He sighed softly, letting his hand rest lightly on Jungkook’s head. His hair was silky smooth, and Namjoon couldn’t resist running his fingers through it. Jungkook rolled his eyes up, meeting Namjoon’s gaze as he moved forward, taking more of his cock into his mouth. He sucked almost cautiously, huffing a quiet laughing sound through his nose when Namjoon shivered. Another suck, a little harder, and his tongue slid flatly over the underside of the tip.

“Your mouth,” Namjoon groaned, reaching back to steady himself with the nightstand.

Jungkook pulled off with a pop.

“Maybe you should sit.”

“Maybe I should just fuck you,” Namjoon suggested instead, pulling Jungkook up and kissing him deeply. He reached around, squeezing his ass before spreading it, and letting his finger slide over Jungkook’s tight hole.

Jungkook giggled against his mouth, breaking the kiss and blinking at him with almost an innocence.

“You want to fuck me bad, huh?” He purred, sliding his hands over Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon nodded. Jungkook crawled onto the bed. “Do you have lube? I can give you a show...” He spread his legs open and slid his hands down his inner thighs.

“You know... Next time.”

Namjoon grabbed Jungkook’s ankles and twisted his legs over one another. Jungkook got the picture and flipped onto his belly. Namjoon lifted his hips as he crawled onto the bed, spreading his ass open.

Jungkook was shaved smooth and clean around his hole, the skin looking delectably soft.

Namjoon thumbed his hole. “God, you’re gonna be so tight on my dick...”

“I like it tight,” Jungkook panted against the pillow. “I like the stretch.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Namjoon held his ass open and spat. He leaned down, catching the spit with his tongue and lapping wetly over Jungkook’s hole. He tasted like fresh soap and something distinctly him. Namjoon could get addicted.

He immediately began to work his tongue against the tight rim, pausing to lick wet stripes over his ass and balls, massaging his rim with his fingers until it finally began to relax. He picked up a rhythm and pattern with his tongue and fingers, starting to slip more easily into Jungkook’s hole. Namjoon pulled back, scissoring his fingers. Jungkook was gripping the pillow moaning and gasping into it. His hips were raised just enough for the tip of his cock to bump the bed when he moved. A dark streak of precome told Namjoon his sweet new bed mate was trying desperately to hump the bed.

Endearing, really. Namjoon lifted Jungkook’s hips higher, removing the stimulation against his ruddy, hard cock tip.

Jungkook whimpered, looking back. His cheeks were pink, sweat dotting his forehead and plastering a few strands of hair down.

“Please—“

Namjoon reached between his legs, giving his cock a few firm tugs. As he did, he drove his tongue back up Jungkook’s ass, smirking as the inner muscle reluctantly gave way.

Jungkook grunted into the pillow, jerking forward.

“Please!” He sobbed, his voice muffled. Perfect.

Namjoon rose and laid over Jungkook, letting his cock nestle between Jungkook’s perky ass cheeks. He kissed over his shoulder as he reached out for the lube, tucked into his top drawer.

“I bet I could make you squirt from eating you out,” he whispered. Maybe I should have you ride my face. Come all over yourself with just my tongue up your tight little ass.”

Jungkook sobbed brokenly.

“No, please—“ He gasped. “Need your cock, sir, please.”

“I know you do, Jungkookie. Just relax. I’ll give it to you.”

Namjoon kissed his cheek and rose back on his knees. He added lube to Jungkook’s hole, and then his own cock. He lined his tip up, taking a moment to appreciate the scene. His babysitter - a young man he’d just met... So fucking handsome. So fucking eager to take his dick. He was definitely making the most of this.

Jungkook screamed into the pillow when Namjoon slid his cock in, stretching him open. He was impossibly tight, even with preparation. Jungkook reached back, holding his ass open. Namjoon took advantage, working more of his cock in. He could see the stretch of Jungkook’s rim, and the way his fingers bit into his plump ass cheeks. His cock was girthy all the way down as he pushed it into Jungkook, rock solid and throbbing against Jungkook’s sensitive rim.

“That’s it,” Jungkook gasped, turning his head so he could be heard. “Fuck my ass, sir. Pound the babysitter’s tight little hole—“ He cried out when Namjoon slammed in, burying himself to the hilt. He took a moment to let Jungkook relax around him - or maybe a moment to relax his own body, Namjoon wasn’t sure, before beginning to fuck into him.

Jungkook rose to his knees, wrapping his arms back around Namjoon’s shoulders as he moaned. His hard cock bounced with each thrust, dribbling precome onto the sheets.

“Fuck me,” he whined softly in Namjoon’s ear. “Wreck my tight little hole. I know you need it, you’re so hard in me. Oh—“ He let his head fall back when Namjoon’s teeth found purchase on his shoulder, a firm bite.

“Gonna mark me up?” He purred into Namjoon’s ear. “I came here for a simple job, and you’re violating my body in every way.”

Namjoon’s cock throbbed in his ass, and Jungkook smirked against his jaw. “You like that. You gonna come in me too? Fill me up? I bet there’s a lot - You’re so pent up, sir.”

Jungkook moaned in his ear. Namjoon’s speed increased. “Yes—“ he whined. “Fuck me and fill me up, send me home all full of you, please—“ he sobbed brokenly. Namjoon pulled out suddenly, and Jungkook’s hole gaped, flexing around nothing.

He cried out when Namjoon flipped him onto his back. Their gazes met for a moment and Namjoon smirked. He put Jungkook’s legs over his shoulders and lifted his hips, pulling his ass open.

Namjoon spat directly onto the tiny gape, watching as it dribbled into Jungkook’s ass. Jungkook whined softly. “Please—“

Namjoon obliged, lining his cock up and pushing back in. He laid over Jungkook, folding him up as he began to fuck him once more.

The new angle felt more intense, and the eye contact Namjoon now held seemed so much more intimate. Jungkook’s cheeks were a delightful pink, and growing redder. He moaned sweetly, reaching up to hold onto Namjoon’s shoulders.

“So quiet now,” Namjoon teased, his strokes long and deep, making Jungkook’s toes curl against his thighs as his cock slid over his prostate again and again. “Where’s that dirty mouth?”

“D— Do you like it when I talk dirty?” Jungkook panted.

Namjoon leaned down, kissing over his ear. “You were driving me wild, Jungkook,” he growled. “Do you still want my load, baby? Want me to send you home with an ass full of my come?”

Jungkook moaned, his fingers biting into Namjoon’s shoulders.

“Yes! Yes, please, sir— Give it to me—“ Jungkook’s eyes rolled back. “I’m so close—“

“Come then. Come from me wrecking your pretty little hole,” Namjoon demanded. He shifted, picking up speed and aggression with each thrust.

Jungkook clawed streaks down Namjoon’s back, slamming his head back into the pillow. The pleasure pain of it was nearly too much, but Namjoon struggled to hold on. Jungkook’s cock began to spurt onto his stomach, ass clenching around Namjoon’s cock as he came, choking out Namjoon’s name.

“That’s it.” Namjoon’s voice was smoky and thick, doing his best to drag Jungkook’s orgasm out. “Squeeze my cock, baby. Lemme know how good you’re squirting for me.” He groaned softly. “Such a tight little butt— Fuck— I’m not pulling out—“ he warned.

“Don’t!” Jungkook pleaded. He reached down, grabbing Namjoon’s hips. “Come deep— Oh fuck please, come up my ass, Namjoon, please— Deeper— Oh God!”

Namjoon swore softly. He buried himself to the hilt, and began to thrust shallowly as his body lit up, sparks of pleasure igniting his nerves. His cock began to jerk as he fucked into Jungkook’s relaxing body. Each twitch was hard and rhythmic as he came, spilling deep inside Jungkook. Jungkook began to clench and relax his rim, trying to milk as much from Namjoon’s cock as he could, even as Namjoon began to soften inside him.

Jungkook let his legs fall open, reaching up to wipe sweat from his brow. He smiled sleepily. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” Namjoon mumbled. He pulled out slowly, flopping onto the bed beside Jungkook. “You okay?”

“Mhm… Relaxed.”

Namjoon grabbed a tissue, carefully wiping Jungkook’s stomach, and then sitting up to clean the lube and mess left behind from their sex.

Jungkook smiled and nodded his thanks before sighing far more heavily. He opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon worried, lying next to him once more.

“I should go home.”

“Oh…” Namjoon hesitated. “Or, I mean… It’s late. You could just stay the night.”

Jungkook looked over, his brows furrowed and mouth in a soft pout. “You… Would want me to?”

“Well, I’m not kicking you out after we just made love. If you don’t wanna go…”

“What about Mingi?”

“Well, if she asks, where else would I have you sleep? You’re too big for the couch comfortably. And you couldn’t very well sleep in her room. And I wouldn’t want you driving late at night…”

Jungkook smiled softly.

“Aw, Mr. Kim… Sounds like you’re almost fond of me. This wasn’t just sex?”

Namjoon’s smile wavered. Jungkook – though teasing – did bring up a good point. Jungkook seemed to notice his shift, because he moved just enough to kiss Namjoon hard.

“If it was, I’m okay with that. But if it wasn’t… I think I’d be okay with that too,” he said softly. Instead of letting Namjoon answer, he kissed him once more, cupping his cheek.

Namjoon reached up, holding his wrist. He pulled away, pressing their foreheads together.

“I didn’t give much thought about it, honestly. You are so young, have a whole bright future. I’m already established… I have a kid. I’m not an easy person to have a relationship with, especially not someone in your shoes.”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.” Jungkook laid back down. “But let’s not talk about it tonight. We had amazing sex. I’m all loose and relaxed, and I am tired. Why don’t we get some sleep, and we can talk about it tomorrow, when we’re both fully rested and more aware.”

Namjoon nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” He kicked the blankets down and pulled them over them. Jungkook snuggled up to him, resting his head on his shoulder and slinging one arm across Namjoon’s middle. His body was warm and soft. It was so… Comforting, if Namjoon was being honest. He could get quite used to something like this, he thought as he wiggled a little closer to Jungkook. If Jungkook did want to date him… He could definitely get used to this.

Namjoon could faintly hear the television. It sounded like a children’s program. Mingi was probably up. He snuggled deeper under his blankets, Jungkook’s warm body still wrapped around him. The morning sunlight was streaming through his window, lightening his eyelids. Heaving a weak sigh, he opened his eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the light before looking over at Jungkook. He was just as beautiful in the daylight. His hair mussed from the pillow, soft lips parted as he slept, chest rising slow and steady. Namjoon’s heart clenched uncomfortably. He wanted Jungkook. As far more than a babysitter, or fuckbuddy, or friend. He truly wanted him. They’d need to talk today.

Namjoon frowned at the door, hearing what sounded like Mingi having a conversation with someone. He wasn’t expecting anyone today… And Mingi knew not to open the door for strangers. Before Namjoon could stand, his bedroom door creaked open.

Namjoon sat up a little, expecting his daughter. Instead, Yoongi stood in the doorway, a cup holder of coffee gripped in his hands. Hoseok stood behind him, a cardboard box. Namjoon’s eyes widened. He saw Yoongi and Hoseok both move their gaze from him, to Jungkook, and back to him.

“What the fuck,” Hoseok strained.

Jungkook sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “What’s – Oh…” He smiled sheepishly when he realized the company in the bedroom. “Morning, Hyung...”

Namjoon cleared his throat. “What brings you here this morning?”

“Bora...” Yoongi drifted off. “She told me you two didn’t work out. We came to... Can we speak to you outside for a second, Namjoon?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to smile sheepishly. “Sure. Wait for me? We need, ah...” he motioned to their pants and shirts strewn on the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi backed out, shutting the door.

Jungkook grimaced. “I feel like I’m about to get scolded by a parent.”

“Same,” Namjoon admitted. He rose, pulling on a pair of sweats and a shirt. “Do you wanna wear yesterday’s clothes? Something of mine might fit you...”

“I should wear yesterday’s.”

Namjoon nodded. He watched Jungkook rise, unable to hide the small smile that curved his mouth up.

“You’re so handsome.”

Jungkook grinned brightly, pulling on his clothes. “You’re just saying that.”

“Am not. Really, Jungkook... I like you.”

“I like you too, Namjoon.”

“We should talk. About that.”

Jungkook nodded. “I agree. After we talk to them,” he chuckled a little. He approached Namjoon, touching his upper arm. “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook closed the space between their mouths, giving Namjoon a chaste peck on the mouth. He pulled back, smiling.

Namjoon opened the door. Hoseok and Yoongi both rose from the couch.

“Jungkook, would you mind Mingi?” Hoseok asked. Jungkook nodded. He sat next to her, immediately drawing her bubbly attention.

Yoongi motioned with his head, and Namjoon followed the couple outside.

“What the fuck, Namjoon,” Hoseok said as soon as the door was shut.

“Why are you swearing at me?”

“I sent you a babysitter, not a fucking hooker.”

“Hey!” Namjoon snapped. “It wasn’t like that.”

“What about the date, Namjoon?”

Yoongi asked. “Why didn’t Bora work out? It wasn’t him...”

“No!” Namjoon shook his head. “Not at all. She’s great. I really enjoyed her company. But she’s not... For me. It has nothing to do with Jungkook.”

“I find that hard to believe since he was naked in your damn bed this morning,” Hoseok argued, crossing his arms.

“He’s not a child, Hobi,” Namjoon argued. “You act like I forced him.”

“You were his employer last night, Namjoon,” Yoongi said.

“He made the first move! I reciprocated! I like him, hyung.”

“He’s one of my best students.”

“And if he were to date another student? Would you throw a fit?” Namjoon sighed, letting his arms fall. “I really do like him. The sex was great but... He is so good with Mingi. She adores him. And I find him so easy to talk to. I want to try with him.”

“Hobi...” Yoongi said softly. He glanced over at Hoseok.

“He made the first move?” Hoseok clarified. Namjoon nodded, smiling a little.

“He’s quite brazen. I couldn’t say no.”

“Little brat’s gonna be cleaning the dance studio for a week,” Hoseok muttered without much venom.

Namjoon grinned at that. “Don’t be too hard on him; he’ll probably be sore for a few days.”

Hoseok blinked, then blinked again, before realization dawned on him. He made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a scream, and gave a dramatic full body shudder.

“That is my student, Kim Namjoon.”

“And hopefully my boyfriend... if I play my cards right.”

“I do hope it works out,” Yoongi said. “For what it’s worth. You two did look pretty cute together.”

“You should see him with Mingi, hyung. They’re already two peas in a pod.”

“I saw the video he sent Hoseok. They do seem to get along great.”

Namjoon’s smile grew almost painfully wide. “That made my whole night.”

“Come on, we should get in. We got you coffee, but didn’t expect a fourth...”

“I’m sure we’ll make due.”

Namjoon entered, smiling softly. Jungkook was folded up on the floor, coloring with Mingi in one of her books. She was babbling on about something, and Jungkook continued to nod and respond appropriately.

“Mingi, come get food,” Yoongi called.

She bounced up, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and tugging him toward the kitchen. Jungkook let himself be pulled, backtracking to Namjoon as Yoongi served Mingi.

“Get in too much trouble?” He worried.

“No. But even if I had... It’d be worth it,” Namjoon confessed. He reached up, brushing a lock of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Just studying.”

“Have enough free time to slip in a dinner date?”

Jungkook grinned. He stepped a little closer to Namjoon, setting his hands on his hips. “I think I could pull myself away for a few hours.” He pressed a kiss to Namjoon’s mouth. Namjoon grinned against his mouth, chuckling a little. He pulled back still smiling.

“You know what this means?” He walked to the table, grabbing the coffee Yoongi held out for him.

“What?” Jungkook asked.

“I’ll need to find a new babysitter.”

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